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THE HARVARD CLASSICS
EDITED BY CHARLES W. ELIOT, LL.D.

Plutarch's Lives

of Themistocles • Pericles • Aristides

Alcibiades and Coriolanus

Demosthenes and Cicero

Caesar and Antony

IN THE TRANSLATION CALLED DRYDEn's

CORRECTED AND REVISED BY

ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH

With Introductions and No/«
\olume 12

P. F. Collier & Son Corporation

NEW YORK

Copyright, 1909
By P. F. Collier & Son

MANUFACTURED IN U. S. A.

CONTENTS

PACE

Themistocles 5

Pericles 35

Aristides 78

Alcibiades 106

coriolanus 147

Comparison of Alcibiades with Coriolanus 186

Demosthenes 191

Cicero 218

Comparison of Demosthenes and Cicero 260

Cesar 264

Antony 322

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

Plutarch, the great biographer of antiquity, had not the fortune him-
self to find a biographer. For the facts of his life we are dependent
wholly upon the fragmentary information that he scattered casually
throughout his writings. From these we learn that he was born in the
small Boeotian town of Chaeroneia in Greece, between 46 and 51 A. D.,
of a family of good standing and long residence there; that he married
a certain Timoxena, to whom he wrote a tender letter of consolation on
the death of their daughter; and that he had four sons, to two of whom
he dedicated one of his philosophical treatises. He began the study of
philosophy at Athens, travelled to Alexandria and in various parts of
Italy, and sojourned for a considerable period in Rome; but he seems to
have continued to regard Chaeroneia as his home, and here he did a
large part of his writing and took his share in public service. As a lecturer
and teacher of philosophy he achieved considerable repute, and the nature
of his doctrine may be gathered from the treatises in which the substance
of many of the lectures has been preserved. His death is placed between
120 and 130 A. D.

The ruling passion of Plutarch's life was ethical. His miscellaneous
writings are known collectively as his "Morals," and though they deal
with a great variety of themes, the prevailing interest is so strongly
centred on conduct that the tide is not unsuitable. Many of the subjects
of his biographies, even, are treated as models of virtue or warnings
against vice, and as a rule he was more concerned about portraying
character than about intricacies of political history.

The "Parallel Lives of Famous Greeks and Romans" have their name
from the author's plan of setting side by side a Greek statesman, soldier,
or orator, and a Roman of eminence in the same field, in order to gain
illumination from the comparison; and in this way he covered almost
the whole history of Greece and Rome from legendary times to his own
day. He collected his facts with care and at the expense of great labor,
and for many periods he is the chief, sometimes the only, source of
information now accessible. In general, the Greek lives are more learned
than the Roman, partly, no doubt, because of the greater difficulty of
getting information as to Roman affairs when he was writing in Greece,
partly because, as he tells us, his mastery of Latin was incomplete.

The biographical as distinct from the historical purpose was entirely
deliberate. "It must be borne in mind," he says in his life of Alexander

3

4 INTRODUCTORY NOTE

the Great, "that my design is not to write histories but lives. And the
most glorious exploits do not always furnish us with the clearest dis-
coveries of virtue or vice in men; sometimes a matter of less moment,
an expression or a jest, informs us better of their characters and inclina-
tions, than the most famous sieges, the greatest armaments, or the
bloodiest battles whatsoever. Therefore, as portrait-painters are more
exact in the lines and features of the face, in which the character is seen,
than in the other parts of the body, so I must be allowed to give my
more particular attention to the marks and indications of the souls of
men, and while I endeavor by these to portray their lives, may be free
to leave more weighty matters and great battles to be treated of by
others." Most of the critical comment passed upon the "Lives" is but an
elaboration of these statements of their author. The proportions and the
significance of political events were often hidden from him, but in his
portraiture of men he has laid the world under a perpetual debt.

The influence of these Lives it is almost impossible to exaggerate. All
classes of people have taken delight in them, from kings to shepherds,
and it is safe to say that the influence has always been wholesome. Not
only do they supply a mass of information, vividly and picturesquely
presented, regarding the leading personalities of some of the greatest
periods of the world's history, but they offer in concrete and inspiring
form the ideals of human character in the antique world incarnated in a
series of great heroic figures. Of few books can it be said with such
assurance that they will remain a permanent possession of the race.

The present translation is that made originally by a group of scholars
in the end of the seventeenth century and published with a life of
Plutarch by Dryden. This, usually called the Dryden translation, was
revised in 1859 by Arthur Hugh Clough, who corrected it by the stand-
ards of modern scholarship, so that it took the place which it still
occupies as the best version in English for the purposes of the general
reader.

THEMISTOCLES

THE birth of Themistocles was somewhat too obscure to
do him honor. His father, Neocles, was not of the distin-
guished people of Athens, but of the township of Phrearrhi,
and of the tribe Leontis; and by his mother's side, as it is reported,
he was base-born.

I am not of the noble Grecian race,
I'm poor Abrotonon, and born in Thrace;
Let the Greek women scorn me, if they please,
I was the mother of Themistocles.

Yet Phanias writes that the mother of Themistocles was not of
Thrace, but of Caria, and that her name was not Abrotonon, but
Euterpe; and Neanthes adds farther that she was of Halicarnassus
in Caria. And, as illegitimate children, including those that were
of the half-blood or had but one parent an Athenian, had to attend
at the Cynosarges (a wrestling-place outside the gates, dedicated
to Hercules, who was also of half-blood amongst the gods, having
had a mortal woman for his mother), Themistocles persuaded sev-
eral of the young men of high birth to accompany him to anoint
and exercise themselves together at Cynosarges; an ingenious device
for destroying the distinction between the noble and the base-born,
and between those of the whole and those of the half-blood of
Athens. However, it is certain that he was related to the house of
the Lycomedac; for Simonides records, that he rebuilt the chapel
of Phlya, belonging to that family, and beautified it with pictures
and other ornaments, after it had been burnt by the Persians.

It is confessed by all that from his youth he was of a vehement
and impetuous nature, of a quick apprehension, and a strong and
aspiring bent for action and great affairs. The holidays and inter-
vals in his studies he did not spend in play or idleness, as other
children, but would be always inventing or arranging some oration

5

6 PLUTARCH S LIVES

or declamation to himself, the subject of which was generally the
excusing or accusing his companions, so that his master would often
say to him, "You, my boy, will be nothing small, but great one
way or other, for good or else for bad." He received reluctantly and
carelessly instructions given him to improve his manners and be-
havior, or to teach him any pleasing or graceful accomplishment,
but whatever was said to improve him in sagacity, or in manage-
ment of affairs, he would give attention to, beyond one of his years,
from confidence in his natural capacities for such things. And thus
afterwards, when in company where people engaged themselves in
what are commonly thought the liberal and elegant amusements, he
was obliged to defend himself against the observations of those who
considered themselves highly accomplished, by the somewhat arro-
gant retort, that he certainly could not make use of any stringed
instrument, could only, were a small and obscure city put into his
hands, make it great and glorious. Notwithstanding this, Stesim-
brotus says that Themistocles was a hearer of Anaxagoras, and that
he studied natural philosophy under Melissus, contrary to chronol-
ogy; for Melissus commanded the Samians in their siege by Peri-
cles, who was much Themistocles's junior; and with Pericles, also,
Anaxagoras was intimate. They, therefore, might rather be credited,
who report, that Themistocles was an admirer of Mnesiphilus the
Phrearrhian, who was neither rhetorician nor natural philosopher,
but a professor of that which was then called wisdom, consisting
in a sort of political shrewdness and practical sagacity, which had
begun and continued, almost like a sect of philosophy, from Solon;
but those who came afterwards, and mixed it with pleadings and
legal artifices, and transformed the practical part of it into a mere
art of speaking and an exercise of words, were generally called
sophists. Themistocles resorted to Mnesiphilus when he had already
embarked in politics.

In the first essays of his youth he was not regular nor happily
balanced; he allowed himself to follow mere natural character,
which, without the control of reason and instruction, is apt to
hurry, upon either side, into sudden and violent courses, and very
often to break away and determine upon the worst; as he afterwards
owned himself, saying, that the wildest colts make the best horses,

THEMISTOCLES J

if they only get properly trained and broken in. But those who
upon this fasten stories of their own invention, as of his being dis-
owned by his father, and that his mother died for grief of her son's
ill fame, certainly calumniate him; and there are others who relate,
on the contrary, how that to deter him from public business, and
to let him see how the vulgar behave themselves towards their lead-
ers when they have at last no farther use of them, his father showed
him the old galleys as they lay forsaken and cast about upon the
sea-shore.

Yet it is evident that his mind was early imbued with the keenest
interest in public affairs, and the most passionate ambition for dis-
tinction. Eager from the first to obtain the highest place, he unhesi-
tatingly accepted the hatred of the most powerful and influential
leaders in the city, but more especially of Aristides, the son of Lysi-
machus, who always opposed him. And yet all this great enmity
between them arose, it appears, from a very boyish occasion, both
being attached to the beautiful Stesilaus of Ceos, as Ariston the
philosopher tells us; ever after which, they took opposite sides, and
were rivals in politics. Not but that the incompatibility of their lives
and manners may seem to have increased the difference, for Aristides
was of a mild nature, and of a nobler sort of character, and, in
public matters, acting always with a view, not to glory or popu-
larity, but to the best interests of the state consistendy with safety
and honesty, he was often forced to oppose Themistocles, and inter-
fere against the increase of his influence, seeing him stirring up the
people to all kinds of enterprises, and introducing various innova-
tions. For it is said that Themistocles was so transported with the
thoughts of glory, and so inflamed with the passion for great actions,
that, though he was still young when the battle of Marathon was
fought against the Persians, upon the skilful conduct of the general,
Miltiades, being everywhere talked about, he was observed to be
thoughtful, and reserved, alone by himself; he passed the nights
without sleep, and avoided all his usual places of recreation, and to
those who wondered at the change, and inquired the reason of it,
he gave the answer, that "the trophy of Miltiades would not let him
sleep." And when others were of opinion that the battle of Mara-
thon would be an end to the war, Themistocles thought that it was

8 plutarch's lives

but the beginning of far greater conflicts, and for these, to the bene-
fit of all Greece, he kept himself in continual readiness, and his city
also in proper training, foreseeing from far before what would
happen.

And, first of all, the Athenians being accustomed to divide
amongst themselves the revenue proceeding from the silver mines
at Laurium, he was the only man that durst propose to the people
that this distribution should cease, and that with the money ships
should be built to make war against the ^Eginetans, who were the
most flourishing people in all Greece, and by the number of their
ships held the sovereignty of the sea; and Themistocles thus was
more easily able to persuade them, avoiding all mention of danger
from Darius or the Persians who were at a great distance, and their
coming very uncertain, and at that time not much to be feared; but,
by a seasonable employment of the emulation and anger felt by the
Athenians against the jEginetans, he induced them to preparation.
So that with this money an hundred ships were built, with which
they afterwards fought against Xerxes. And, henceforward, little
by little, turning and drawing the city down towards the sea, in
the belief, that, whereas by land they were not a fit match for their
next neighbors, with their ships they might be able to repel the Per-
sians and command Greece, thus, as Plato says, from steady soldiers
he turned them into mariners and seamen tossed about the sea, and
gave occasion for the reproach against him, that he took away from
the Athenians the spear and the shield, and bound them to the bench
and the oar. These measures he carried in the assembly, against
the opposition, as Stesimbrotus relates, of Miltiades; and whether
or no he hereby injured the purity and true balance of government,
may be a question for philosophers, but that the deliverance of
Greece came at that time from the sea, and that these galleys re-
stored Athens again after it was destroyed, were others wanting,
Xerxes himself would be sufficient evidence, who, though his land-
forces were still entire, after his defeat at sea, fled away, and thought
himself no longer able to encounter the Greeks; and, as it seems to
me, left Mardonius behind him, not out of any hopes he could have
to bring them into subjection, but to hinder them from pursuing
him.

THEMISTOCLES 9

Themistocles is said to have been eager in the acquisition of riches,
according to some, that he might be the more liberal; for loving to
sacrifice often, and to be splendid in his entertainment of strangers,
he required a plentiful revenue; yet he is accused by others of
having been parsimonious and sordid to that degree that he would
sell provisions which were sent to him as a present. He desired
Diphilides, who was a breeder of horses, to give him a colt, and
when he refused it, threatened that in a short time he would turn
his house into a wooden 1 horse, intimating that he would stir up
dispute and litigation between him and some of his relations.

He went beyond all men in the passion for distinction. When
he was still young and unknown in the world, he entreated Epicles
of Hermione, who had a good hand at the lute and was much sought
after by the Athenians, to come and practise at home with him, being
ambitious of having people inquire after his house and frequent his
company. When he came to the Olympic games, and was so splen-
did in his equipage and entertainments, in his rich tents and fur-
niture, that he strove to outdo Cimon, he displeased the Greeks,
who thought that such magnificence might be allowed in one who
was a young man and of a great family but was a great piece of
insolence in one as yet undistinguished, and without title or means
for making any such display. In a dramatic contest, the play he paid
for won the prize, which was then a matter that excited much
emulation; he put up a tablet in record of it, with the inscription,
"Themistocles of Phrearrhi was at the charge of it; Phrynichus
made it; Adimantus was archon." He was well liked by the com-
mon people, would salute every particular citizen by his own name,
and always show himself a just judge in questions of business be-
tween private men; he said to Simonides, the poet of Ceos, who
desired something of him, when he was commander of the army,
that was not reasonable, "Simonides, you would be no good poet
if you wrote false measure, nor should I be a good magistrate if for
favor I made false law." And at another time, laughing at Simoni-
des, he said, that he was a man of little judgment to speak against
the Corinthians, who were inhabitants of a great city, and to have
his own picture drawn so often, having so ill-looking a face.
1 Full of people ready for fighting, like the Trojan horse.

10 PLUTARCH S LIVES

Gradually growing to be great, and winning the favor of the
people, he at last gained the day with his faction over that of Aristides,
and procured his banishment by ostracism. When the king of Persia
was now advancing against Greece, and the Athenians were in con-
sultation who should be general, and many withdrew themselves of
their own accord, being terrified with the greatness of the danger,
there was one Epicydes, a popular speaker, son to Euphemides, a man
of an eloquent tongue, but of a faint heart, and a slave to riches, who
was desirous of the command, and was looked upon to be in a fair
way to carry it by the number of votes; but Themistocles, fearing that,
if the command should fall into such hands, all would be lost, bought
off Epicydes and his pretensions, it is said, for a sum of money.

When the king of Persia sent messengers into Greece, with an
interpreter, to demand earth and water, as an acknowledgment of
subjection, Themistocles, by the consent of the people, seized upon
the interpreter, and put him to death, for presuming to publish the
barbarian orders and decrees in the Greek language; this is one of the
actions he is commended for, as also for what he did to Arthmius of
Zelea, who brought gold from the king of Persia to corrupt the
Greeks, and was, by an order from Themistocles, degraded and dis-
franchised, he and his children and his posterity; but that which most
of all redounded to his credit was, that he put an end to all the civil
wars of Greece, composed their differences, and persuaded them to
lay aside all enmity during the war with the Persians; and in this
great work, Chileus the Arcadian was, it is said, of great assistance
to him.

Having taken upon himself the command of the Athenian forces,
he immediately endeavored to persuade the citizens to leave the city,
and to embark upon their galleys, and meet with the Persians at a
great distance from Greece; but many being against this, he led a
large force, together with the Lacedaemonians, into Tempe, that in
this pass they might maintain the safety of Thessaly, which had not as
yet declared for the king; but when they returned without performing
any thing, and it was known that not only the Thessalians, but all as
far as Bceotia, were going over to Xerxes, then the Athenians more
willingly hearkened to the advice of Themistocles to fight by sea, and
sent him with a fleet to guard the straits of Artemisium.

THEMISTOCLES 1 1

When the contingents met here, the Greeks would have the
Lacedaemonians to command, and Eurybiades to be their admiral;
but the Athenians, who surpassed all the rest together in number of
vessels, would not submit to come after any other, till Themistocles,
perceiving the danger of this contest, yielded his own command to
Eurybiades, and got the Athenians to submit, extenuating the loss
by persuading them, that if in this war they behaved themselves like
men, he would answer for it after that, that the Greeks, of their own
will, would submit to their command. And by this moderation of
his, it is evident that he was the chief means of the deliverance of
Greece, and gained the Athenians the glory of alike surpassing their
enemies in valor, and their confederates in wisdom.

As soon as the Persian armada arrived at Aphetae, Eurybiades was
astonished to see such a vast number of vessels before him, and,
being informed that two hundred more were sailing round behind
the island of Sciathus, he immediately determined to retire farther
into Greece, and to sail back into some part of Peloponnesus, where
their land army and their fleet might join, for he looked upon the
Persian forces to be altogether unassailable by sea. But the Eubceans,
fearing that the Greeks would forsake them, and leave them to the
mercy of the enemy, sent Pelagon to confer privately with Themis-
tocles, taking with him a good sum of money, which, as Herodotus
reports, he accepted and gave to Eurybiades. In this affair none of
his own countrymen opposed him so much as Architeles, captain of
the sacred galley, who, having no money to supply his seamen, was
eager to go home; but Themistocles so incensed the Athenians
against him, that they set upon him and left him not so much as his
supper, at which Architeles was much surprised, and took it very
ill; but Themistocles immediately sent him in a chest a service of
provisions, and at the bottom of it a talent of silver, desiring him to
sup to-night, and to-morrow provide for his seamen; if not, he
would report it amongst the Athenians that he had received money
from the enemy. So Phanias the Lesbian tells the story.

Though the fights between the Greeks and Persians in the straits
of Eubcea were not so important as to make any final decision of the
war, yet the experience which the Greeks obtained in them was of
great advantage; for thus, by actual trial and in real danger, they

12 PLUTARCH S LIVES

found out, that neither number of ships, nor riches and ornaments,
nor boasting shouts, nor barbarous songs of victory, were any way
terrible to men that knew how to fight, and were resolved to come
hand to hand with their enemies; these things they were to despise,
and to come up close and grapple with their foes. This, Pindar
appears to have seen, and says justly enough of the fight at Arte-
misium, that

"There the sons of Athens set
The stone that freedom stands on yet."

For the first step towards victory undoubtedly is to gain courage.
Artemisium is in Euboea, beyond the city of Histiaca, a sea-beach
open to the north; most nearly opposite to it stands Olizon, in the
country which formerly was under Philoctetes; there is a small
temple there, dedicated to Diana, surnamed of the Dawn, and trees
about it, around which again stand pillars of white marble; and if
you rub them with your hand, they send forth both the smell and
color of saffron. On one of the pillars these verses are engraved, —

"With numerous tribes from Asia's regions brought
The sons of Athens on these waters fought;
Erecting, after they had quelled the Mede,
To Artemis this record of the deed."

There is a place still to be seen upon this shore, where, in the middle
of a great heap of sand, they take out from the bottom a dark
powder like ashes, or something that has passed the fire; and here,
it is supposed, the shipwrecks and bodies of the dead were burnt.

But when news came from Thermopylae to Artemisium, inform-
ing them that king Leonidas was slain, and that Xerxes had made
himself master of all the passages by land, they returned back to
the interior of Greece, the Athenians having the command of the
rear, the place of honor and danger, and much elated by what had
been done.

As Themistocles sailed along the coast, he took notice of the
harbors and fit places for the enemies' ships to come to land at, and
engraved large letters in such stones as he found there by chance,
as also in others which he set up on purpose near to the landing-
places, or where they were to water; in which inscriptions he called
upon the Ionians to forsake the Medes, if it were possible, and come

THEMISTOCLES 1 3

over to the Greeks, who were their proper founders and fathers,
and were now hazarding all for their liberties; but, if this could not
be done, at any rate to impede and disturb the Persians in all engage-
ments. He hoped that these writings would prevail with the Ionians
to revolt, or raise some trouble by making their fidelity doubtful to
the Persians.

Now, though Xerxes had already passed through Doris and in-
vaded the country of Phocis, and was burning and destroying the
cities of the Phocians, yet the Greeks sent them no relief; and,
though the Athenians earnestly desired them to meet the Persians
in Bceotia, before they could come into Attica, as they themselves had
come forward by sea at Artemisium, they gave no ear to their re-
quest, being wholly intent upon Peloponnesus, and resolved to
gather all their forces together within the Isthmus, and to build a
wall from sea to sea in that narrow neck of land; so that the Atheni-
ans were enraged to see themselves betrayed, and at the same time
afflicted and dejected at their own destitution. For to fight alone
against such a numerous army was to no purpose, and the only expe-
dient now left them was to leave their city and cling to their ships;
which the people were very unwilling to submit to, imagining that
it would signify little now to gain a victory, and not understand-
ing how there could be deliverance any longer after they had once
forsaken the temples of their gods and exposed the tombs and monu-
ments of their ancestors to the fury of their enemies.

Themistocles, being at a loss, and not able to draw the people over
to his opinion by any human reason, set his machines to work, as
in a theatre, and employed prodigies and oracles. The serpent of
Minerva, kept in the inner part of her temple, disappeared; the
priests gave it out to the people that the offerings which were set for
it were found untouched, and declared, by the suggestion of The-
mistocles, that the goddess had left the city, and taken her flight
before them towards the sea. And he often urged them with the
oracle 2 which bade them trust to walls of wood, showing them that

2 "While all things else are taken," said the oracle, "within the boundary of
Cecrops and the covert of divine Citharron, Zeus grants to Athena that the wall of
wood alone shall remain uncapturcd; that shall help thee and thy children. Stay not
for horsemen and an host of men on foot, coming from the mainland; retire turning
thy back; one day yet thou shalt show thy face. O divine Salamis, but thou shall slay
children of women, either at the scattering of Demeter or at the gathering."

THEMISTOCLES 1 5

came to the island of Salamis, where he fainted away and died, and
that spot in the island, which is still called the Dog's Grave, is said
to be his.

Among the great actions of Themistocles at this crisis, the recall
of Axistides was not the least, for, before the war, he had been ostra-
cized by the party which Themistocles headed, and was in banish-
ment; but now, perceiving that the people regretted his absence,
and were fearful that he might go over to the Persians to revenge
himself, and thereby ruin the affairs of Greece, Themistocles pro-
posed a decree that those who were banished for a time might return
again, to give assistance by word and deed to the cause of Greece
with the rest of their fellow-citizens.

Eurybiades, by reason of the greatness of Sparta, was admiral of
the Greek fleet, but yet was faint-hearted in time of danger, and
willing to weigh anchor and set sail for the isthmus of Corinth,
near which the land army lay encamped; which Themistocles re-
sisted; and this was the occasion of the well-known words, when
Eurybiades, to check his impatience, told him that at the Olympic
games they that start up before the rest are lashed; "And they,"
replied Themistocles, "that are left behind are not crowned." Again,
Eurybiades lifting up his staff as if he were going to strike, Themis-
tocles said, "Strike if you will, but hear"; Eurybiades, wondering
much at his moderation, desired him to speak, and Themistocles
now brought him to a better understanding. And when one who
stood by him told him that it did not become those who had neither
city nor house to lose, to persuade others to relinquish their habita-
tions and forsake their countries, Themistocles gave this reply : "We
have indeed left our houses and our walls, base fellow, not thinking
it fit to become slaves for the sake of things that have no life nor
soul; and yet our city is the greatest of all Greece, consisting of two
hundred galleys, which are here to defend you, if you please; but if
you run away and betray us, as you did once before, the Greeks
shall soon hear news of the Athenians possessing as fair a country,
and as large and free a city, as that they have lost." These expres-
sions of Themistocles made Eurybiades suspect that if he retreated
the Athenians would fall off from him. When one of Eretria began

1 6 plutarch's lives

to oppose him, he said, "Have you any thing to say of war, that are
like an ink-fish ? you have a sword, but no heart." ' Some say that
while Themistocles was thus speaking things upon the deck, an owl
was seen flying to the right hand of the fleet, which came and sate
upon the top of the mast; and this happy omen so far disposed the
Greeks to follow his advice, that they presently prepared to fight.
Yet, when the enemy's fleet was arrived at the haven of Phalerum,
upon the coast of Attica, and with the number of their ships con-
cealed all the shore, and when they saw the king himself in person
come down with his land army to the sea-side, with all his forces
united, then the good counsel of Themistocles was soon forgotten,
and the Peloponnesians cast their eyes again towards the Isthmus,
and took it very ill if any one spoke against their returning home;
and, resolving to depart that night, the pilots had order what course
to steer.

Themistocles, in great distress that the Greeks should retire, and
lose the advantage of the narrow seas and strait passage, and slip
home every one to his own city, considered with himself, and con-
trived that stratagem that was carried out by Sicinnus. This Sicin-
nus was a Persian captive, but a great lover of Themistocles, and
the attendant of his children. Upon this occasion, he sent him
privately to Xerxes, commanding him to tell the king, that Themis-
tocles, the admiral of the Athenians, having espoused his interest,
wished to be the first to inform him that the Greeks were ready to
make their escape, and that he counselled him to hinder their flight,
to set upon them while they were in this confusion and at a distance
from their land army, and hereby destroy all their forces by sea.
Xerxes was very joyful at this message, and received it as from one
who wished him all that was good, and immediately issued instruc-
tions to the commanders of his ships, that they should instantly set out
with two hundred galleys to encompass all the islands, and enclose
all the straits and passages, that none of the Greeks might escape,
and that they should afterwards follow with the rest of their fleet at
leisure. This being done, Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, was the
first man that perceived it, and went to the tent of Themistocles, not

' The Teuthis, loligo, or cuttlefish, is said to have a bone or cartilage shaped like a
sword, and was conceived to have no heart.

THEMISTOCLES 1 7

out of any friendship, for he had been formerly banished by his
means, as has been related, but to inform him how they were en-
compassed by their enemies. Themistocles, knowing the generosity
of Aristides, and much struck by his visit at that time, imparted to
him all that he had transacted by Sicinnus, and entreated him, that,
as he would be more readily believed among the Greeks, he would
make use of his credit to help to induce them to stay and fight their
enemies in the narrow seas. Aristides applauded Themistocles, and
went to the other commanders and captains of the galleys, and en-
couraged them to engage; yet they did not perfectly assent to him,
till a galley of Tenos, which deserted from the Persians, of which
Panaetius was commander, came in, while they were still doubting,
and confirmed the news that all the straits and passages were beset;
and then their rage and fury, as well as their necessity, provoked
them all to fight.

As soon as it was day, Xerxes placed himself high up, to view
his fleet, and how it was set in order. Phanodemus says, he sat upon
a promontory above the temple of Hercules, where the coast of
Attica is separated from the island by a narrow channel; but
Acestodorus writes, that it was in the confines of Megara, upon those
hills which are called the Horns, where he sat in a chair of gold,
with many secretaries about him to write down all that was done.

When Themistocles was about to sacrifice, close to the admiral's
galley, there were three prisoners brought to him, fine looking men,
and richly dressed in ornamented clothing and gold, said to be the
children of Artayctes and Sandauce, sister to Xerxes. As soon as
the prophet Euphrantides saw them, and observed that at the same
time the fire blazed out from the offerings with a more than ordi-
nary flame, and that a man sneezed on the right, which was an
intimation of a fortunate event, he took Themistocles by the hand,
and bade him consecrate the three young men for sacrifice, and offer
them up with prayers for victory to Bacchus the Devourer: so
should the Greeks not only save themselves, but also obtain victory.
Themistocles was much disturbed at this strange and terrible
prophecy, but the common people, who, in any difficult crisis and
great exigency, ever look for relief rather to strange and extrava-
gant than to reasonable means, calling upon Bacchus with one voice,

1 8 plutarch's lives

led the captives to the altar, and compelled the execution of the
sacrifice as the prophet had commanded. This is reported by Pha-
nias the Lesbian, a philosopher well read in history.

The number of the enemy's ships the poet ^Eschylus gives in his
tragedy called the Persians, as on his certain knowledge, in the
following words —

"Xerxes, I know, did into battle lead
One thousand ships; of more than usual speed
Seven and two hundred. So is it agreed."

The Athenians had a hundred and eighty; in every ship eighteen
men fought upon the deck, four of whom were archers and the rest
men-at-arms.

As Themistocles had fixed upon the most advantageous place, so,
with no less sagacity, he chose the best time of fighting; for he
would not run the prows of his galleys against the Persians, nor
begin the fight till the time of day was come, when there regularly
blows in a fresh breeze from the open sea, and brings in with it a
strong swell into the channel; which was no inconvenience to the
Greek ships, which were low-built, and little above the water, but
did much hurt to the Persians, which had high sterns and lofty
decks, and were heavy and cumbrous in their movements, as it pre-
sented them broadside to the quick charges of the Greeks, who
kept their eyes upon the motions of Themistocles, as their best ex-
ample, and more particularly because, opposed to his ship, Aria-
menes, admiral to Xerxes, a brave man, and by far the best and
worthiest of the king's brothers, was seen throwing darts and
shooting arrows from his huge galley, as from the walls of a castle.
Aminias the Decelean and Sosicles the Pedian, who sailed in the
same vessel, upon the ships meeting stem to stem, and transfixing
each the other with their brazen prows, so that they were fastened
together, when Ariamenes attempted to board theirs, ran at him
with their pikes, and thrust him into the sea; his body, as it floated
amongst other shipwrecks, was known to Artemisia, and carried to
Xerxes.

It is reported, that, in the middle of the fight, a great flame rose
into the air above the city of Eleusis, and that sounds and voices
were heard through all the Thriasian plain, as far as the sea, sound-

THEMISTOCLES 1 9

ing like a number of men accompanying and escorting the mystic
Iacchus, and that a mist seemed to form and rise from the place
from whence the sounds came, and, passing forward, fell upon the
galleys. Others believed that they saw apparitions, in the shape of
armed men, reaching out their hands from the island of ^Egina
before the Grecian galleys; and supposed they were the ^Eacidse,
whom they had invoked to their aid before the battle. The first
man that took a ship was Lycomedes the Athenian, captain of a
galley, who cut down its ensign, and dedicated it to Apollo, the
Laurel-crowned. And as the Persians fought in a narrow arm of
the sea, and could bring but part of their fleet to fight, and fell foul
of one another, the Greeks thus equalled them in strength, and
fought with them till the evening, forced them back, and obtained,
as says Simonides, that noble and famous victory, than which
neither amongst the Greeks nor barbarians was ever known more
glorious exploit on the seas; by the joint valor, indeed, and zeal of
all who fought, but by the wisdom and sagacity of Themistocles.

After this sea-fight, Xerxes, enraged at his ill-fortune, attempted,
by casting great heaps of earth and stones into the sea, to stop up
the channel and to make a dam, upon which he might lead his
land-forces over into the island of Salamis.

Themistocles, being desirous to try the opinion of Aristides, told
him that he proposed to set sail for the Hellespont, to break the
bridge of ships, so as to shut up, he said, Asia a prisoner within
Europe; but Aristides, disliking the design, said, "We have hitherto
fought with an enemy who has regarded little else but his pleasure
and luxury; but if we shut him up within Greece, and drive him to
necessity, he that is master of such great forces will no longer sit
quiedy with an umbrella of gold over his head, looking upon the
fight for his pleasure; but in such a strait will attempt all things;
he will be resolute, and appear himself in person upon all occasions,
he will soon correct his errors, and supply what he has formerly
omitted through remissness, and will be better advised in all things.
Therefore, it is noways our interest, Themistocles," he said, "to take
away the bridge that is already made, but rather to build another,
if it were possible, that he might make his retreat with the more
expedition." To which Themistocles answered, "If this be requi-

20 plutarch's lives

site, we must immediately use all diligence, art, and industry, to rid
ourselves of him as soon as may be;" and to this purpose he found
out among the captives one of the king of Persia's eunuchs, named
Arnaces, whom he sent to the king, to inform him that the Greeks,
being now victorious by sea, had decreed to sail to the Hellespont,
where the boats were fastened together, and destroy the bridge; but
that Themistocles, being concerned for the king, revealed this to
him, that he might hasten towards the Asiatic seas, and pass over
into his own dominions; and in the mean time would cause delays,
and hinder the confederates from pursuing him. Xerxes no sooner
heard this, but, being very much terrified, he proceeded to retreat
out of Greece with all speed. The prudence of Themistocles and
Aristides in this was afterwards more fully understood at the battle
of Plataea, where Mardonius, with a very small fraction of the
forces of Xerxes, put the Greeks in danger of losing all.

Herodotus writes, that, of all the cities of Greece, j£gina was
held to have performed the best service in the war; while all single
men yielded to Themistocles, though, out of envy, unwillingly; and
when they returned to the entrance of Peloponnesus, where the sev-
eral commanders delivered their suffrages at the altar, to determine
who was most worthy, every one gave the first vote for himself and
the second for Themistocles. The Lacedxmonians carried him with
them to Sparta, where, giving the rewards of valor to Eurybiades,
and of wisdom and conduct to Themistocles, they crowned him
with olive, presented him with the best chariot in the city, and
sent three hundred young men to accompany him to the confines
of their country. And at the next Olympic games, when Themis-
tocles entered the course, the spectators took no farther notice of
those who were contesting the prizes, but spent the whole day in
looking upon him, showing him to the strangers, admiring him,
and applauding him by clapping their hands, and other expressions
of joy, so that he himself, much gratified, confessed to his friends
that he then reaped the fruit of all his labors for the Greeks.

He was, indeed, by nature, a great lover of honor, as is evident
from the anecdotes recorded of him. When chosen admiral by the
Athenians, he would not quite conclude any single matter of busi-
ness, either public or private, but deferred all till the day they were

THEMISTOCLES 21

to set sail, that, by despatching a great quantity of business all at
once, and having to meet a great variety of people, he might make
an appearance of greatness and power. Viewing the dead bodies
cast up by the sea, he perceived bracelets and necklaces of gold
about them, yet passed on, only showing them to a friend that fol-
lowed him, saying, "Take you these things, for you are not Themis-
tocles." He said to Antiphates, a handsome young man, who had
formerly avoided, but now in his glory courted him, "Time, young
man, has taught us both a lesson." He said that the Athenians did
not honor him or admire him, but made, as it were, a sort of plane-
tree of him; sheltered themselves under him in bad weather, and,
as soon as it was fine, plucked his leaves and cut his branches. When
the Seriphian told him that he had not obtained this honor by
himself, but by the greatness of his city, he replied, "You speak
truth; I should never have been famous if I had been of Seriphus;
nor you, had you been of Athens." When another of the generals,
who thought he had performed considerable service for the Athe-
nians, boastingly compared his actions with those of Themistocles,
he told him that once upon a time the Day after the Festival found
fault with the Festival: "On you there is nothing but hurry and
trouble and preparation, but, when I come, everybody sits down
quietly and enjoys himself;" which the Festival admitted was true,
but "if I had not come first, you would not have come at all." "Even
so," he said, "if Themistocles had not come before, where had you
been now?" Laughing at his own son, who got his mother, and, by
his mother's means, his father also, to indulge him, he told him
that he had the most power of any one in Greece: "For the Athe-
nians command the rest of Greece, I command the Athenians, your
mother commands me, and you command your mother." Loving
to be singular in all things, when he had land to sell, he ordered
the crier to give notice that there were good neighbors near it. Of
two who made love to his daughter, he preferred the man of
worth to the one who was rich, saying he desired a man without
riches, rather than riches without a man. Such was the character
of his sayings.

After these things, he began to rebuild and fortify the city of
Athens, bribing, as Theopompus reports, the Lacedaemonian ephors

22 plutarch's lives

not to be against it, but, as most relate it, overreaching and deceiv-
ing them. For, under pretext of an embassy, he went to Sparta,
where, upon the Laceda:monians charging him with rebuilding the
walls, and Poliarchus coming on purpose from jtgina to denounce
it, he denied the fact, bidding them to send people to Athens to
see whether it was so or no; by which delay he got time for the
building of the wall, and also placed these ambassadors in the
hands of his countrymen as hostages for him; and so, when
the Lacedaemonians knew the truth, they did him no hurt, but,
suppressing all display of their anger for the present, sent him
away.

Next he proceeded to establish the harbor of Piraeus, observing
the great natural advantages of the locality and desirous to unite the
whole city with the sea, and to reverse, in a manner, the policy of
ancient Athenian kings, who, endeavoring to withdraw their sub-
jects from the sea, and to accustom them to live, not by sailing
about, but by planting and tilling the earth, spread the story of the
dispute between Minerva and Neptune for the sovereignty of Ath-
ens, in which Minerva, by producing to the judges an olive tree, was
declared to have won; whereas Themistocles did not only knead
up, as Aristophanes says, the port and the city into one, but made the
city absolutely the dependant and the adjunct of the port, and the
land of the sea, which increased the power and confidence of the
people against nobility; the authority coming into the hands of
sailors and boatswains and pilots. Thus it was one of the orders of
the thirty tyrants, that the hustings in the assembly, which had
faced towards the sea, should be turned round towards the land;
implying their opinion that the empire by sea had been the origin
of the democracy, and that the farming population were not so
much opposed to oligarchy.

Themistocles, however, formed yet higher designs with a view
to naval supremacy. For, after the departure of Xerxes, when the
Grecian fleet was arrived at Pagasa:, where they wintered, Themis-
tocles, in a public oration to the people of Athens, told them that
he had a design to perform something that would tend greatly to
their interests and safety, but was of such a nature, that it could
not be made generally public. The Athenians ordered him to im-

THEMISTOCLES 23

part it to Aristides only; and, if he approved of it, to put it in
practice. And when Themistocles had discovered to him that his
design was to burn the Grecian fleet in the haven of Pagasa?, Aris-
tides, coming out to the people, gave this report of the stratagem
contrived by Themistocles, that no proposal could be more politic,
or more dishonorable; on which the Athenians commanded Themis-
tocles to think no farther of it.

When the Lacedaemonians proposed, at the general council of the
Amphictyonians, that the representatives of those cities which were
not in the league, nor had fought against the Persians, should be
excluded, Themistocles, fearing that the Thessalians, with those of
Thebes, Argos, and others, being thrown out of the council, the Lace-
daemonians would become wholly masters of the votes, and do what
they pleased, supported the deputies of the cities, and prevailed with
the members then sitting to alter their opinion in this point, show-
ing them that there were but one and thirty cities which had par-
taken in the war, and that most of these, also, were very small; how
intolerable would it be, if the rest of Greece should be excluded, and
the general council should come to be ruled by two or three great
cities. By this, chiefly, he incurred the displeasure of the Lacedae-
monians, whose honors and favors were now shown to Cimon,
with a view to making him the opponent of the state policy of
Themistocles.

He was also burdensome to the confederates, sailing about the
islands and collecting money from them. Herodotus says, that,
requiring money of those of the island of Andros, he told them
that he had brought with him two goddesses, Persuasion and Force;
and they answered him that they had also two great goddesses,
which prohibited them from giving him any money, Poverty and
Impossibility. Timocreon, the Rhodian poet, reprehends him some-
what bitterly for being wrought upon by money to let some who
were banished return, while abandoning himself, who was his guest
and friend. The verses are these: —

"Pausanias you may praise, and Xanthippus he be for,
For Leutychidas, a third; Aristides, I proclaim,
From the sacred Athens came,
The one true man of all; for Themistocles Latona doth abhor,

24 PLUTARCH S LIVES

"The liar, traitor, cheat, who, to gain his filthy pay,
Timocreon, his friend, neglected to restore
To his native Rhodian shore;
Three silver talents took, and departed (curses with him) on his way,

"Restoring people here, expelling there, and killing here,
Filling evermore his purse: and at the Isthmus gave a treat,
To be laughed at, of cold meat,

Which they ate, and prayed the gods some one else might give the feast
another year."

But after the sentence and banishment of Themistocles, Timocreon
reviles him yet more immoderately and wildly in a poem which
begins thus: —

"Unto all the Greeks repair
O Muse, and tell these verses there,
As is fitting and is fair."

The story is, that it was put to the question whether Timocreon
should be banished for siding with the Persians, and Themistocles
gave his vote against him. So when Themistocles was accused of
intriguing with the Medes, Timocreon made these lines upon
him: —

"So now Timocreon, indeed, is not the sole friend of the Mede,
There are some knaves besides; nor is it only mine that fails,
But other foxes have lost tails. — "

When the citizens of Athens began to listen willingly to those who
traduced and reproached him, he was forced, with somewhat ob-
noxious frequency, to put them in mind of the great services he had
performed, and ask those who were offended with him whether
they were weary with receiving benefits often from the same per-
son, so rendering himself more odious. And he yet more provoked
the people by building a temple to Diana with the epithet of Aristo-
bule, or Diana of Best Counsel; intimating thereby, that he had
given the best counsel, not only to the Athenians, but to all Greece.
He built this temple near his own house, in the district called
Melite, where now the public officers carry out the bodies of such
as are executed, and throw the halters and clothes of those that are

THEMISTOCLES 25

strangled or otherwise put to death. There is to this day a small
figure of Themistocles in the temple of Diana of Best Counsel,
which represents him to be a person, not only of a noble mind, but
also of a most heroic aspect. At length the Athenians banished
him, making use of the ostracism to humble his eminence and au-
thority, as they ordinarily did with all whom they thought too pow-
erful, or, by their greatness, disproportionable to the equality
thought requisite in a popular government. For the ostracism was
instituted, not so much to punish the offender, as to mitigate and
pacify the violence of the envious, who delighted to humble emi-
nent men, and who, by fixing this disgrace upon them, might vent
some part of their rancor.

Themistocles being banished from Athens, while he stayed at
Argos the detection of Pausanias happened, which gave such ad-
vantage to his enemies, that Leobotes of Agraule, son of Alcmaron,
indicted him of treason, the Spartans supporting him in the accusa-
tion.

When Pausanias went about this treasonable design, he con-
cealed it at first from Themistocles, though he were his intimate
friend; but when he saw him expelled out of the commonwealth,
and how impatiently he took his banishment, he ventured to com-
municate it to him, and desired his assistance, showing him the
king of Persia's letters, and exasperating him against the Greeks,
as a villainous, ungrateful people. However, Themistocles imme-
diately rejected the proposals of Pausanias, and wholly refused to
be a party in the enterprise, though he never revealed his commu-
nications, nor disclosed the conspiracy to any man, either hoping
that Pausanias would desist from his intentions, or expecting that
so inconsiderate an attempt after such chimerical objects would be
discovered by other means.

After that Pausanias was put to death, letters and writings being
found concerning this matter, which rendered Themistocles sus-
pected, the Laceda?monians were clamorous against him, and his
enemies among the Athenians accused him; when, being absent
from Athens, he made his defence by letters, especially against the
points that had been previously alleged against him. In answer to
the malicious detractions of his enemies, he merely wrote to the

26 plutarch's lives

citizens, urging that he who was always ambitious to govern, and
not of a character or a disposition to serve, would never sell himself
and his country into slavery to a barbarous and hostile nation.

Notwithstanding this, the people, being persuaded by his ac-
cusers, sent officers to take him and bring him away to be tried
before a council of the Greeks, but, having timely notice of it, he
passed over into the island of Corcyra, where the state was under
obligations to him; for, being chosen as arbitrator in a difference
between them and the Corinthians, he decided the controversy by
ordering the Corinthians to pay down twenty talents, and declaring
the town and island of Leucas a joint colony from both cities. From
thence he fled into Epirus, and, the Athenians and Lacedaemonians
still pursuing him, he threw himself upon chances of safety that
seemed all but desperate. For he fled for refuge to Admetus, king
of the Molossians, who had formerly made some request to the Athe-
nians, when Themistocles was in the height of his authority, and had
been disdainfully used and insulted by him, and had let it appear
plain enough, that, could he lay hold of him, he would take his re-
venge. Yet in this misfortune, Themistocles^earing the recent hatred
of his neighbors and fellow-citizens more than the old displeasure of
the king, put himself at his mercy, and became an humble suppli-
ant to Admetus, after a peculiar manner, different from the custom
of other countries. For taking the king's son, who was then a
child, in his arms, he laid himself down at his hearth, this being
the most sacred and only manner of supplication, among the Mo-
lossians, which was not to be refused. And some say that his wife,
Phthia, intimated to Themistocles this way of petitioning, and
placed her young son with him before the hearth; others, that king
Admetus, that he might be under a religious obligation not to
deliver him up to his pursuers, prepared and enacted with him a
sort of stage-play to this effect. At this time, Epicrates of Acharnae
privately conveyed his wife and children out of Athens, and sent
them hither, for which afterwards Cimon condemned him and put
him to death as Stesimbrotus reports, and yet somehow, either for-
getting this himself, or making Themistocles to be little mindful of
it, says presendy that he sailed into Sicily, and desired in marriage
the daughter of Hiero, tyrant of Syracuse, promising to bring the

THEMISTOCLES VJ

Greeks under his power; and, on Hiero refusing him, departed
thence into Asia; but this is not probable.

For Theophrastus writes, in his work on Monarchy, that when
Hiero sent race-horses to the Olympian games, and erected a pa-
vilion sumptuously furnished, Themistocles made an oration to the
Greeks, inciting them to pull down the tyrant's tent, and not to
suffer his horses to run. Thucydides says, that, passing over land
to the jEgaean Sea, he took ship at Pydna in the bay of Therme, not
being known to any one in the ship, till, being terrified to see the ves-
sel driven by the winds near to Naxos, which was then besieged by
the Athenians, he made himself known to the master and pilot, and,
partly entreating them, partly threatening that if they went on shore
he would accuse them, and make the Athenians to believe that they
did not take him in out of ignorance, but that he had corrupted
them with money from the beginning, he compelled them to
bear off and stand out to sea, and sail forward towards the coast
of Asia.

A great part of his estate was privately conveyed away by his
friends, and sent after him by sea into Asia; besides which, there
was discovered and confiscated to the value of fourscore talents, as
Theophrastus writes; Theopompus says an hundred; though The-
mistocles was never worth three talents before he was concerned in
public affairs.

When he arrived at Cyme, and understood that all along the
coast there were many laid wait for him, and particularly Ergoteles
and Pythodorus (for the game was worth the hunting for such as
were thankful to make money by any means, the king of Persia
having offered by public proclamation two hundred talents to him
that should take him), he fled to jEgac, a small city of the ^olians,
where no one knew him but only his host Nicogenes, who was the
richest man in jEolia, and well known to the great men of Inner
Asia. While Themistocles lay hid for some days in his house, one
night, after a sacrifice and supper ensuing, Olbius, the attendant
upon Nicogenes's children, fell into a sort of frenzy and fit of
inspiration, and cried out in verse, —

"Night shall speak, and night instruct thee,
By the voice of night conduct thee."

28 plutarch's lives

After this, Themistocles, going to bed, dreamed that he saw a snake
coil itself up upon his belly, and so creep to his neck; then, as soon
as it touched his face, it turned into an eagle, which spread its
wings over him, and took him up and flew away with him a great
distance; then there appeared a herald's golden wand, and upon
this at last it set him down securely, after infinite terror and dis-
turbance.

His departure was effected by Nicogenes by the following artifice;
the barbarous nations, and amongst them the Persians especially,
are extremely jealous, severe, and suspicious about their women,
not only their wives, but also their bought slaves and concubines,
whom they keep so strictly that no one ever sees them abroad; they
spend their lives shut up within doors, and, when they take a jour-
ney, are carried in close tents, curtained in on all sides, and set upon
a wagon. Such a travelling carriage being prepared for Themis-
tocles, they hid him in it, and carried him on his journey, and told
those whom they met or spoke with upon the road that they were
conveying a young Greek woman out of Ionia to a nobleman at
court.

Thucydides and Charon of Lampsacus say that Xerxes was dead,
and that Themistocles had an interview with his son; but Ephorus,
Dinon, Clitarchus, Heraclides, and many others, write that he came
to Xerxes. The chronological tables better agree with the account
of Thucydides, and yet neither can their statements be said to be
quite set at rest.

When Themistocles was come to the critical point, he applied
himself first to Artabanus, commander of a thousand men, telling
him that he was a Greek, and desired to speak with the king about
important affairs concerning which the king was extremely solici-
tous. Artabanus answered him, "O stranger, the laws of men are
different, and one thing is honorable to one man, and to others
another; but it is honorable for all to honor and observe their own
laws. It is the habit of the Greeks, we are told, to honor, above all
things, liberty and equality; but amongst our many excellent laws,
we account this the most excellent, to honor the king, and to wor-
ship him, as the image of the great preserver of the universe; if,
then, you shall consent to our laws, and fall down before the king

THEMISTOCLES 29

and worship him, you may both see him and speak to him; but if
your mind be otherwise, you must make use of others to intercede
for you, for it is not the national custom here for the king to give
audience to any one that doth not fall down before him." Themis-
tocles, hearing this, replied, "Artabanus, I that come hither to in-
crease the power and glory of the king, will not only submit my-
self to his laws, since so it hath pleased the god who exalteth the
Persian empire to this greatness, but will also cause many more to
be worshippers and adorers of the king. Let not this, therefore, be
an impediment why I should not communicate to the king what I
have to impart." Artabanus asking him, "Who must we tell him
that you are? for your words signify you to be no ordinary person,"
Themistocles answered, "No man, O Artabanus, must be informed
of this before the king himself." Thus Phanias relates; to which
Eratosthenes, in his treatise on Riches, adds, that it was by the
means of a woman of Eretria, who was kept by Artabanus, that he
obtained this audience and interview with him.

When he was introduced to the king, and had paid his reverence
to him, he stood silent, till the king commanding the interpreter to
ask him who he was, he replied, "O king, I am Themistocles the
Athenian, driven into banishment by the Greeks. The evils that
I have done to the Persians are numerous; but my benefits to them
yet greater, in withholding the Greeks from pursuit, so soon as the
deliverance of my own country allowed me to show kindness also
to you. I come with a mind suited to my present calamities; pre-
pared alike for favors and for anger; to welcome your gracious
reconciliation, and to deprecate your wrath. Take my own country-
men for witnesses of the services I have done for Persia, and make
use of this occasion to show the world your virtue, rather than to
satisfy your indignation. If you save me, you will save your suppli-
ant; if otherwise, will destroy an enemy of the Greeks." He talked
also of divine admonition, such as the vision which he saw at Nico-
genes's house, and the direction given him by the oracle of Dodona,
where Jupiter commanded him to go to him that had a name
like his, by which he understood that he was sent from Jupiter to
him, seeing that they both were great, and had the name of kings.

The king heard him attentively, and, though he admired his tern-

30 PLUTARCH S LIVES

per and courage, gave him no answer at that time; but, when he
was with his intimate friends, rejoiced in his great good fortune,
and esteemed himself very happy in this, and prayed to his god
Arimanius, that all his enemies might be ever of the same mind
with the Greeks, to abuse and expel the bravest men amongst them.
Then he sacrificed to the gods, and presently fell to drinking, and
was so well pleased, that in the night, in the middle of his sleep, he
cried out for joy three times, "I have Themistocles the Athenian."
In the morning, calling together the chief of his court, he had
Themistocles brought before him, who expected no good of it,
when he saw, for example, the guards fiercely set against him as
soon as they learnt his name, and giving him ill language. As he
came forward towards the king, who was seated, the rest keeping
silence, passing by Roxanes, a commander of a thousand men, he
heard him, with a slight groan, say, without stirring out of his
place, "You subtle Greek serpent, the king's good genius hath
brought thee hither." Yet, when he came into the presence, and
again fell down, the king saluted him, and spake to him kindly,
telling him he was now indebted to him two hundred talents; for it
was just and reasonable that he should receive the reward which was
proposed to whosoever should bring Themistocles; and promising
much more, and encouraging him, he commanded him to speak
freely what he would concerning the affairs of Greece. Themis-
tocles replied, that a man's discourse was like to a rich Persian car-
pet, the beautiful figures and patterns of which can only be shown
by spreading and extending it out; when it is contracted and folded
up, they are obscured and lost; and, therefore, he desired time.
The king being pleased with the comparison, and bidding him
take what time he would, he desired a year; in which time, having
learnt the Persian language sufficiently, he spoke with the king by
himself without the help of an interpreter, it being supposed that he
discoursed only about the affairs of Greece; but there happening,
at the same time, great alterations at court, and removals of the
king's favorites, he drew upon himself the envy of the great people,
who imagined that he had taken the boldness to speak concerning
them. For the favors shown to other strangers were nothing in com-
parison with the honors conferred on him; the king invited him to

THEMISTOCLES 3 1

partake of his own pastimes and recreations both at home and
abroad, carrying him with him a-hunting, and made him his inti-
mate so far that he permitted him to see the queen-mother, and
converse frequently with her. By the king's command, he also
was made acquainted with the Magian learning.

When Demaratus the Lacedaemonian, being ordered by the king
to ask whatsoever he pleased, and it should immediately be granted
him, desired that he might make his public entrance, and be carried
in state through the city of Sardis, with the tiara set in the royal
manner upon his head, Mithropaustes, cousin to the king, touched
him on the head, and told him that he had no brains for the royal
tiara to cover, and if Jupiter should give him his lightning and thun-
der, he would not any the more be Jupiter for that; the king also re-
pulsed him with anger, resolving never to be reconciled to him, but
to be inexorable to all supplications on his behalf. Yet Themistocles
pacified him, and prevailed with him to forgive him. And it is re-
ported, that the succeeding kings, in whose reigns there was a
greater communication between the Greeks and Persians, when they
invited any considerable Greek into their service, to encourage him,
would write, and promise him that he should be as great with them
as Themistocles had been. They relate, also, how Themistocles,
when he was in great prosperity, and courted by many, seeing him-
self splendidly served at his table, turned to his children and said,
"Children, we had been undone if we had not been undone." Most
writers say that he had three cities given him, Magnesia, Myus, and
Lampsacus, to maintain him in bread, meat, and wine. Neanthes
of Cyzicus, and Phanias, add two more, the city of Palaescepsis, to
provide him with clothes, and Percote, with bedding and furni-
ture for his house.

As he was going down towards the sea-coast to take measures
against Greece, a Persian whose name was Epixyes, governor of the
upper Phrygia, laid wait to kill him, having for that purpose pro-
vided a long time before a number of Pisidians, who were to set
upon him when he should stop to rest at a city that is called Lion's-
head. But Themistocles, sleeping in the middle of the day, saw
the Mother of the gods appear to him in a dream and say unto him,
"Themistocles, keep back from the Lion's-head, for fear you fall

32 PLUTARCH S LIVES

into the lion's jaws; for this advice I expect that your daughter
Mnesiptolema should be my servant." Themistocles was much as-
tonished, and, when he had made his vows to the goddess, left the
broad road, and, making a circuit, went another way, changing his
intended station to avoid that place, and at night took up his rest
in the fields. But one of the sumpter-horses, which carried the furni-
ture for his tent, having fallen that day into the river, his servants
spread out the tapestry, which was wet, and hung it up to dry; in
the meantime the Pisidians made towards them with their swords
drawn, and, not discerning exactly by the moon what it was that
was stretched out, thought it to be the tent of Themistocles, and that
they should find him resting himself within it but when they came
near, and lifted up the hangings, those who watched there fell upon
them and took them. Themistocles, having escaped this great dan-
ger, in admiration of the goodness of the goddess that appeared to
him, built, in memory of it, a temple in the city of Magnesia, which
he dedicated to Dindymene, Mother of the gods, in which he con-
secrated and devoted his daughter Mnesiptolema to her service.

When he came to Sardis, he visited the temples of the gods, and
observing, at his leisure, their buildings, ornaments, and the num-
ber of their offerings, he saw in the temple of the Mother of the
gods the statue of a virgin in brass, two cubits high, called the
water-bringer. Themistocles had caused this to be made and set up
when he was surveyor of waters at Athens, out of the fines of those
whom he detected in drawing off and diverting the public water
by pipes for their private use; and whether he had some regret to
see this image in captivity, or was desirous to let the Athenians see
in what great credit and authority he was with the king, he entered
into a treaty with the governor of Lydia to persuade him to send
this statue back to Athens, which so enraged the Persian officer,
that he told him he would write the king word of it. Themistocles,
being affrighted hereat, got access to his wives and concubines, by
presents of money to whom, he appeased the fury of the governor;
and afterwards behaved with more reserve and circumspection,
fearing the envy of the Persians, and did not, as Theopompus
writes, continue to travel about Asia, but lived quietly in his own
house in Magnesia, where for a long time he passed his days in

THEMISTOCLES 33

great security, being courted by all, and enjoying rich presents, and
honored equally with the greatest persons in the Persian empire;
the king, at that time, not minding his concerns with Greece, being
taken up with the affairs of Inner Asia.

But when Egypt revolted, being assisted by the Athenians, and
the Greek galleys roved about as far as Cyprus and Cilicia, and
Cimon had made himself master of the seas, the king turned his
thoughts thither, and, bending his mind chiefly to resist the Greeks,
and to check the growth of their power against him, began to raise
forces, and send out commanders, and to despatch messengers to
Themistocles at Magnesia, to put him in mind of his promise, and
to summon him to act against the Greeks. Yet this did not increase
his hatred nor exasperate him against the Athenians, neither was
he any way elevated with the thoughts of the honor and powerful
command he was to have in this war; but judging, perhaps, that
the object would not be attained, the Greeks having at that time,
beside other great commanders, Cimon, in particular, who was
gaining wonderful military successes; but chiefly, being ashamed to
sully the glory of his former great actions, and of his many victories
and trophies, he determined to put a conclusion to his life, agreeable
to its previous course. He sacrificed to the gods, and invited his
friends; and, having entertained them and shaken hands with
them, drank bull's blood, as is the usual story; as others state, a
poison producing instant death; and ended his days in the city of
Magnesia, having lived sixty-five years, most of which he had spent
in politics and in the wars, in government and command. The
king, being informed of the cause and manner of his death, admired
him more than ever, and continued to show kindness to his friends
and relations.

Themistocles left three sons by Archippe, daughter to Lysander of
Alopece, — Archeptolis, Polyeuctus, and Cleophantus. Plato the phil-
osopher mentions the last as a most excellent horseman, but other-
wise insignificant person; of two sons yet older than these, Neocles
and Diodes, Neocles died when he was young by the bite of a
horse, and Diodes was adopted by his grandfather, Lysander. He
had many daughters, of whom Mnesiptolema, whom he had by a
second marriage, was wife to Archeptolis, her brother by another

34 PLUTARCH S LIVES

mother; Italia was married to Panthoides, of the island of Chios;
Sybaris to Nicomedes the Athenian. After the death of Themis-
tocles, his nephew, Phrasicles, went to Magnesia, and married, with
her brothers' consent, another daughter, Nicomache, and took
charge of her sister Asia, the youngest of all the children.

The Magnesians possess a splendid sepulchre of Themistocles,
placed in the middle of their market-place. It is not worth while
taking notice of what Andocides states in his Address to his Friends
concerning his remains, how the Athenians robbed his tomb, and
threw his ashes into the air; for he feigns this, to exasperate the oli-
garchical faction against the people; and there is no man living but
knows that Phylarchus simply invents in his history; where he
all but uses an actual stage machine, and brings in Neocles and
Demopolis as the sons of Themistocles, to incite or move compas-
sion, as if he were writing a tragedy. Diodorus the cosmographer
says, in his work on Tombs, but by conjecture rather than of certain
knowledge, that near to the heaven of Pirxus, where the land runs
out like an elbow from the promontory of Alcimus, when you have
doubled the cape and passed inward where the sea is always calm,
there is a large piece of masonry, and upon this the tomb of Themis-
tocles, in the shape of an altar; and Plato the comedian confirms
this, he believes, in these verses, —

"Thy tomb is fairly placed upon the strand,
Where merchants still shall greet it with the land;
Still in and out 't will see them come and go,
And watch the galleys as they race below."

Various honors also and privileges were granted to the kindred
of Themistocles at Magnesia, which were observed down to our
times, and were enjoyed by another Themistocles of Athens, with
whom I had an intimate acquaintance and friendship in the house
of Ammonius the philosopher.

PERICLES

CAESAR 1 once, seeing some wealthy strangers at Rome, carry-
ing up and down with them in their arms and bosoms
young puppy-dogs and monkeys, embracing and making
much of them, took occasion not unnaturally to ask whether the
women in their country were not used to bear children; by that
prince-like reprimand gravely reflecting upon persons who spend
and lavish upon brute beasts that affection and kindness which
nature has implanted in us to be bestowed on those of our own
kind. With like reason may we blame those who misuse that love
of inquiry and observation which nature has implanted in our
souls, by expending it on objects unworthy of the attention either
of their eyes or their ears, while they disregard such as are excellent
in themselves, and would do them good.

The mere outward sense, being passive in responding to the im-
pression of the objects that come in its way and strike upon it,
perhaps cannot help entertaining and taking notice of every thing
that addresses it, be it what it will, useful or unuseful; but, in the
exercise of his mental perception, every man, if he chooses, has a
natural power to turn himself upon all occasions, and to change and
shift with the greatest ease to what he shall himself judge desirable.
So that it becomes a man's duty to pursue and make after the best
and choicest of everything, that he may not only employ his con-
templation, but may also be improved by it. For as that color is
most suitable to the eye whose freshness and pleasantness stimu-
lates and strengthens the sight, so a man ought to apply his intel-
lectual perception to such objects as, with the sense of delight, are
apt to call it forth, and allure it to its own proper good and advan-
tage.

Such objects we find in the acts of virtue, which also produce
in the minds of mere readers about them, an emulation and eager-

1 Probably Augustus.
35

36 plutarch's lives

ness that may lead them on to imitation. In other things there does
not immediately follow upon the admiration and liking of the thing
done, any strong desire of doing the like. Nay, many times, on the
very contrary, when we are pleased with the work, we slight and
set litde by the workman or artist himself, as, for instance, in per-
fumes and purple dyes, we are taken with the things themselves
well enough, but do not think dyers and perfumers otherwise than
low and sordid people. It was not said amiss by Antisthenes, when
people told him that one Ismenias was an excellent piper, "It may
be so," said he, "but he is but a wretched human being, otherwise
he would not have been an excellent piper." And king Philip, to
the same purpose, told his son Alexander, who once at a merry-
meeting played a piece of music charmingly and skilfully, "Are you
not ashamed, son, to play so well?" For it is enough for a king or
prince to find leisure sometimes to hear others sing, and he does
the muses quite honor enough when he pleases to be but present,
while others engage in such exercises and trials of skill.

He who busies himself in mean occupations produces, in the very
pains he takes about things of little or no use, an evidence against
himself of his negligence and indisposition to what is really good.
Nor did any generous and ingenuous young man, at the sight of the
statue of Jupiter at Pisa, ever desire to be a Phidias, or, on seeing
that of Juno at Argos, long to be a Polycletus, or feel induced by his
pleasure in their poems to wish to be an Anacreon or Philetas or
Archilochus. For it does not necessarily follow, that, if a piece of
work please for its gracefulness, therefore he that wrought it de-
serves our admiration. Whence it is that neither do such things
really profit or advantage the beholders, upon the sight of which no
zeal arises for the imitation of them, nor any impulse or inclination,
which may prompt any desire or endeavor of doing the like. But
virtue, by the bare statement of its actions, can so affect men's
minds as to create at once both admiration of the things done and
desire to imitate the doers of them. The goods of fortune we would
possess and would enjoy; those of virtue we long to practise and
exercise; we are content to receive the former from others, the lat-
ter we wish others to experience from us. Moral good is a practical
stimulus; it is no sooner seen, than it inspires an impulse to prac-

PERICLES 37

tise; and influences the mind and character not by a mere imitation
which we look at, but, by the statement of the fact, creates a moral
purpose which we form.

And so we have thought fit to spend our time and pains in writ-
ing of the lives of famous persons; and have composed this tenth
book upon that subject, containing the life of Pericles, and that of
Fabius Maximus, who carried on the war against Hannibal, men
alike, as in their other virtues and good parts, so especially in their
mild and upright temper and demeanor, and in that capacity to
bear the cross-grained humors of their fellow-citizens and colleagues
in office which made them both most useful and serviceable to the
interests of their countries. Whether we take a right aim at our
intended purpose, it is left to the reader to judge by what he shall
here find.

Pericles was of the tribe Acamantis, and the township Cholargus,
of the noblest birth both on his father's and mother's side. Xan-
thippus, his father, who defeated the king of Persia's generals in the
batde at Mycale, took to wife Agariste, the grandchild of Clisthenes,
who drove out the sons of Pisistratus, and nobly put an end to their
tyrannical usurpation, and moreover made a body of laws, and
settled a model of government admirably tempered and suited for
the harmony and safety of the people.

His mother, being near her time, fancied in a dream that she
was brought to bed of a lion, and a few days after was delivered
of Pericles, in other respects perfectly formed, only his head was
somewhat longish and out of proportion. For which reason almost
all the images and statues that were made of him have the head
covered with a helmet, the workmen apparently being willing not
to expose him. The poets of Athens called him Schinocephalos, or
squill-head, from schinos, a squill, or sea-onion. One of the comic
poets, Cratinus, in the Chirons, tells us that —

"Old Chronos once took queen Sedition to wife;
Which two brought to life
That tyrant far-famed,
Whom the gods the supreme skull-compeller 2 have named."

* Kephalegeretes, a play on Nephelegeretes, the cloud-compeller.

38 plutarch's lives

And, in the Nemesis, addresses him —

"Come, Jove, thou head of gods."

And a second, Teleclides, says, that now, in embarrassment with
political difficulties, he sits in the city, —

"Fainting underneath the load
Of his own head; and now abroad,
From his huge galley of a pate,
Sends forth trouble to the state."

And a third, Eupolis, in the comedy called the Demi, in a series of
questions about each of the demagogues, whom he makes in the
play to come up from hell, upon Pericles being named last,
exclaims, —

"And here by way of summary, now we've done,
Behold, in brief, the heads of all in one."

The master that taught him music, most authors are agreed, was
Damon (whose name, they say, ought to be pronounced with the
first syllable short). Though Aristotle tells us that he was thor-
oughly practised in all accomplishments of this kind by Pythoclides.
Damon, it is not unlikely, being a sophist, out of policy, sheltered
himself under the profession of music to conceal from people in
general his skill in other things, and under this pretence attended
Pericles, the young athlete of politics, so to say, as his training-
master in these exercises. Damon's lyre, however, did not prove
altogether a successful blind; he was banished the country by ostra-
cism for ten years, as a dangerous inter-meddler and a favorer of
arbitrary power, and, by this means, gave the stage occasion to play
upon him. As, for instance, Plato, the comic poet, introduces a
character, who questions him —

"Tell me, if you please,
Since you're the Chiron who taught Pericles."

Pericles, also, was a hearer of Zeno, the Eleatic, who treated of
natural philosophy in the same manner as Parmenides did, but had
also perfected himself in an art of his own for refuting and silencing
opponents in argument; as Timon of Phlius describes it, —

PERICLES 39

"Also the two-edged tongue of mighty Zeno, who,
Say what one would, could argue it untrue."

But he that saw most of Pericles, and furnished him most espe-
cially with a weight and grandeur of sense, superior to all arts of
popularity, and in general gave him his elevation and sublimity of
purpose and of character, was Anaxagoras of Clazomena?; whom
the men of those times called by the name of Nous, that is, mind,
or intelligence, whether in admiration of the great and extraordi-
nary gift he displayed for the science of nature, or because that he
was the first of the philosophers who did not refer the first ordering
of the world to fortune or chance, nor to necessity or compulsion,
but to a pure, unadulterated intelligence, which in all other exist-
ing mixed and compound things acts as a principle of discrimina-
tion, and of combination of like with like.

For this man, Pericles entertained an extraordinary esteem and
admiration, and, filling himself with this lofty, and, as they call it,
up-in-the-air sort of thought, derived hence not merely, as was natu-
ral, elevation of purpose and dignity of language, raised far above
the base and dishonest buffooneries of mob-eloquence, but, besides
this, a composure of countenance, and a serenity and calmness in all
his movements, which no occurrence whilst he was speaking could
disturb, a sustained and even tone of voice, and various other ad-
vantages of a similar kind, which produced the greatest effect on
his hearers. Once, after being reviled and ill-spoken of all day long
in his own hearing by some vile and abandoned fellow in the open
market-place, where he was engaged in the despatch of some urgent
affair, he continued his business in perfect silence, and in the eve-
ning returned home composedly, the man still dogging him at the
heels, and pelting him all the way with abuse and foul language;
and stepping into his house, it being this time dark, he ordered
one of his servants to take a light, and to go along with the man
and see him safe home. Ion, it is true, the dramatic poet, says that
Pericles's manner in company was somewhat over-assuming and
pompous; and that into his high bearing there entered a good deal
of slightingness and scorn of others; he reserves his commendation
for Cimon's ease and pliancy and natural grace in society. Ion, how-
ever, who must needs make virtue, like a show of tragedies, include

40 PLUTARCH S LIVES

some comic scenes, 3 we shall not altogether rely upon; Zeno used to
bid those who called Pericles's gravity the affectation of a charlatan,
to go and affect the like themselves; inasmuch as this mere counter-
feiting might in time insensibly instil into them a real love and
knowledge of those noble qualities.

Nor were these the only advantages which Pericles derived from
Anaxagoras's acquaintance; he seems also to have become, by his
instructions, superior to that superstition with which an ignorant
wonder at appearances, for example, in the heavens possesses the
minds of people unacquainted with their causes, eager for the super-
natural, and excitable through an inexperience which the knowledge
of natural causes removes, replacing wild and timid superstition by
the good hope and assurance of an intelligent piety.

There is a story, that once Pericles had brought to him from a
country farm of his, a ram's head with one horn, and that Lampon,
the diviner, upon seeing the horn grow strong and solid out of the
midst of the forehead, gave it as his judgment, that, there being at
that time two potent factions, parties, or interests in the city, the
one of Thucydides and the other of Pericles, the government would
come about to that one of them in whose ground or estate this token
or indication of fate had shown itself. But that Anaxagoras, cleav-
ing the skull in sunder, showed to the bystanders that the brain
had not filled up its natural place, but being oblong, like an egg,
had collected from all parts of the vessel which contained it, in a
point to that place from whence the root of the horn took its rise.
And that, for that time, Anaxagoras was much admired for his
explanation by those that were present; and Lampon no less a little
while after, when Thucydides was overpowered, and the whole
affairs of the state and government came into the hands of Pericles.

And yet, in my opinion, it is no absurdity to say that they were
both in the right, both natural philosopher and diviner, one justly
detecting the cause of this event, by which it was produced, the other
the end for which it was designed. For it was the business of the
one to find out and give an account of what it was made, and in
what manner and by what means it grew as it did; and of the other

' Three tragedies represented in succession were followed by a burlesque, the so-
called satyric drama, which has no connection, it must be remembered, with the moral
satire of the Romans, but takes its name from the grotesque satyrs of the Greek woods.

PERICLES 41

to foretell to what end and purpose it was so made, and what it
might mean or portend. Those who say that to find out the cause
of a prodigy is in effect to destroy its supposed signification as such,
do not take notice that, at the same time, together with divine prodi-
gies, they also do away with signs and signals of human art and
concert, as, for instance, the clashings of quoits, fire-beacons, and
the shadows on sun-dials, every one of which things has its cause,
and by that cause and contrivance is a sign of something else. But
these are subjects, perhaps, that would better befit another place.

Pericles, while yet but a young man, stood in considerable appre-
hension of the people, as he was thought in face and figure to be
very like the tyrant Pisistratus, and those of great age remarked
upon the sweetness of his voice, and his volubility and rapidity in
speaking, and were struck with amazement at the resemblance.
Reflecting, too, that he had a considerable estate, and was descended
of a noble family, and had friends of great influence, he was fearful
all this might bring him to be banished as a dangerous person; and
for this reason meddled not at all with state affairs, but in military
service showed himself of a brave and intrepid nature. But when
Aristides was now dead, and Themistocles driven out, and Cimon
was for the most part kept abroad by the expeditions he made in
parts out of Greece, Pericles, seeing things in this posture, now
advanced and took his side, not with the rich and few, but with
the many and poor, contrary to his natural bent, which was far
from democratical; but, most likely, fearing he might fall under
suspicion of aiming at arbitrary power, and seeing Cimon on the
side of the aristocracy, and much beloved by the better and more
distinguished people, he joined the party of the people, with a view
at once both to secure himself and procure means against Cimon.

He immediately entered, also, on quite a new course of life and
management of his time. For he was never seen to walk in any
street but that which led to the market-place and the council-hall,
and he avoided invitations of friends to supper, and all friendly
visiting and intercourse whatever; in all the time he had to do with
the public, which was not a little, he was never known to have
gone to any of his friends to a supper, except that once when his
near kinsman Euryptolemus married, he remained present till the

42 PLUTARCH S LIVES

ceremony of the drink-offering, 4 and then immediately rose from
table and went his way. For these friendly meetings are very quick
to defeat any assumed superiority, and in intimate familiarity an
exterior of gravity is hard to maintain. Real excellence, indeed, is
most recognized when most openly looked into; and in really good
men, nothing which meets the eyes of external observers so truly
deserves their admiration, as their daily common life does that of
their nearer friends. Pericles, however, to avoid any feeling of com-
monness, or any satiety on the part of the people, presented himself
at intervals only, not speaking to every business, nor at all times
coming into the assembly, but, as Critolaus says, reserving himself,
like the Salaminian galley, 5 for great occasions, while matters of
lesser importance were despatched by friends or other speakers
under his direction. And of this number we are told Ephialtes
made one, who broke the power of the council of Areopagus, giving
the people, according to Plato's expression, so copious and so strong
a draught of liberty, that, growing wild and unruly, like an unman-
ageable horse, it, as the comic poets say, —

-got beyond all keeping in,

Champing at Euboea, and among the islands leaping in."

The style of speaking most consonant to his form of life and the
dignity of his views he found, so to say, in the tones of that instru-
ment with which Anaxagoras had furnished him; of his teaching
he continually availed himself, and deepened the colors of rhetoric
with the dye of natural science. For having, in addition to his great
natural genius, attained, by the study of nature, to use the words
of the divine Plato, this height of intelligence, and this universal
consummating power, and drawing hence whatever might be of
advantage to him in the art of speaking, he showed himself far
superior to all others. Upon which account, they say, he had his
nickname given him, though some are of opinion he was named
the Olympian from the public buildings with which he adorned the
city; and others again, from his great power in public affairs,

4 The spondai, or libations, which, like the modern grace, concluded the meal, and
were followed by the dessert.

* The Salaminia and the Paralus were the two sacred state-galleys of Athens, used
only on special missions.

PERICLES 43

whether of war or peace. Nor is it unlikely that the confluence of
many attributes may have conferred it on him. However, the come-
dies represented at the time, which, both in good earnest and in
merriment, let fly many hard words at him, plainly show that he
got that appellation especially from his speaking; they speak of his
"thundering and lightning" when he harangued the people, and of
his wielding a dreadful thunderbolt in his tongue.

A saying also of Thucydides, the son of Melesias, stands on rec-
ord, spoken by him by way of pleasantry upon Pericles's dexterity.
Thucydides was one of the noble and distinguished citizens, and
had been his greatest opponent; and, when Archidamus, the king
of the Lacedaemonians, asked him whether he or Pericles were the
better wrestler, he made this answer: "When I," said he, "have
thrown him and given him a fair fall, by persisting that he had
no fall, he gets the better of me, and makes the bystanders, in spite
of their own eyes, believe him." The truth, however, is, that Pericles
himself was very careful what and how he was to speak, insomuch
that, whenever he went up to the hustings, he prayed the gods that
no one word might unawares slip from him unsuitable to the matter
and the occasion.

He has left nothing in writing behind him, except some decrees;
and there are but very few of his sayings recorded; one, for exam-
ple, is, that he said iEgina must, like a gathering in a man's eye,
be removed from Piraeus; and another, that he said he saw already
war moving on its way towards them out of Peloponnesus. Again,
when on a time Sophocles, who was his fellow-commissioner in the
generalship, was going on board with him, and praised the beauty
of a youth they met with in the way to the ship, "Sophocles," said
he, "a general ought not only to have clean hands, but also clean
eyes." And Stesimbrotus tells us, that, in his encomium on those
who fell in battle at Samos, he said they were become immortal, as
the gods were. "For," said he, "we do not see them themselves,
but only by the honors we pay them, and by the benefits they do us,
attribute to them immortality; and the like attributes belong also
to those that die in the service of their country."

Since Thucydides describes the rule of Pericles as an aristocrati-
cal government, that went by the name of a democracy, but was, in-

44 plutarch's lives

deed, the supremacy of a single great man, while many others say, on
the contrary, that by him the common people were first encouraged
and led on to such evils as appropriations of subject territory; allow-
ances for attending theatres, payments for performing public duties,
and by these bad habits were, under the influence of his public meas-
ures, changed from a sober, thrifty people, that maintained them-
selves by their own labors, to lovers of expense, intemperance, and
license, let us examine the cause of this change by the actual matters
of fact.

At the first, as has been said, when he set himself against Cimon's
great authority, he did caress the people. Finding himself come
short of his competitor in wealth and money, by which advantages
the other was enabled to take care of the poor, inviting every day
some one or other of the citizens that was in want to supper, and
bestowing clothes on the aged people, and breaking down the
hedges and enclosures of his grounds, that all that would might freely
gather what fruit they pleased, Pericles, thus outdone in popular
arts, by the advice of one Damonides of CEa, as Aristotle states,
turned to the distribution of the public moneys; and in a short time
having bought the people over, what with moneys allowed for
shows and for service on juries, and what with other forms of pay
and largess, he made use of them against the council of Areopagus,
of which he himself was no member, as having never been ap-
pointed by lot either chief archon, or lawgiver, or king, or captain.'
For from of old these offices were conferred on persons by lot, and
they who had acquitted themselves duly in the discharge of them
were advanced to the court of Areopagus. And so Pericles, having
secured his power and interest with the populace, directed the exer-
tions of his party against this council with such success, that most
of those causes and matters which had been used to be tried there,
were, by the agency of Ephialtes, removed from its cognizance.
Cimon, also, was banished by ostracism as a favorer of the Lace-
daemonians and a hater of the people, though in wealth and noble

6 Eponymus, Thesmothetes, Basilcus, Polemarchus; titles of the different archons,
the chief civic dignitaries, who, after the period of the Persian wars, were appointed,
not by election, but simply by lot, from the whole body of citizens. Hence, at this time,
the importance of the board of the ten stralcgi, or generals who were elected, and were
always persons of real or supposed capacity.

PERICLES 45

birth he was among the first, and had won several most glorious
victories over the barbarians, and had rilled the city with money
and spoils of war; as is recorded in the history of his life. So vast
an authority had Pericles obtained among the people.

The ostracism was limited by law to ten years; but the Lacedaemo-
nians, in the mean time, entering with a great army into the terri-
tory of Tanagra, and the Athenians going out against them, Cimon,
coming from his banishment before his time was out, put himself
in arms and array with those of his fellow-citizens that were of his
own tribe, and desired by his deeds to wipe off the suspicion of his
favoring the Lacedaemonians, by venturing his own person along
with his countrymen. But Pericles's friends, gathering in a body,
forced him to retire as a banished man. For which cause also Peri-
cles seems to have exerted himself more in that than in any battle,
and to have been conspicuous above all for his exposure of himself
to danger. All Cimon's friends, also, to a man, fell together side
by side, whom Pericles had accused with him of taking part with
the Lacedaemonians. Defeated in this battle on their own fron-
tiers, and expecting a new and perilous attack with return of spring,
the Athenians now felt regret and sorrow for the loss of Cimon,
and repentance for their expulsion of him. Pericles, being sensible
of their feelings, did not hesitate or delay to gratify it, and himself
made the motion for recalling him home. He, upon his return, con-
cluded a peace betwixt the two cities; for the Lacedaemonians enter-
tained as kindly feelings towards him as they did the reverse towards
Pericles and the other popular leaders.

Yet some there are who say that Pericles did not propose the order
for Cimon's return till some private articles of agreement had been
made between them, and this by means of Elpinice, Cimon's sister;
that Cimon, namely, should go out to sea with a fleet of two hun-
dred ships, and be commander-in-chief abroad, with a design to
reduce the king of Persia's territories, and that Pericles should have
the power at home.

This Elpinice, it was thought, had before this time procured
some favor for her brother Cimon at Pericles's hands, and induced
him to be more remiss and gentle in urging the charge when Cimon
was tried for his life; for Pericles was one of the committee

46 plutarch's lives

appointed by the commons to plead against him. And when Elpinice
came and besought him in her brother's behalf, he answered, with
a smile, "O Elpinice, you are too old a woman to undertake such
business as this." But, when he appeared to impeach him, he stood
up but once to speak, merely to acquit himself of his commission,
and went out of court, having done Cimon the least prejudice of
any of his accusers.

How, then, can one believe Idomeneus, who charges Pericles as
if he had by treachery procured the murder of Ephialtes, the popu-
lar statesman, one who was his friend, and of his own party in all
his political course, out of jealousy, forsooth, and envy of his great
reputation? This historian, it seems, having raked up these stories,
I know not whence, has befouled with them a man who, perchance,
was not altogether free from fault or blame, but yet had a noble
spirit, and a soul that was bent on honor; and where such qualities
are, there can no such cruel and brutal passion find harbor or gain
admittance. As to Ephialtes, the truth of the story, as Aristotle has
told it, is this: that having made himself formidable to the oligarch-
ical party, by being an uncompromising asserter of the people's
rights in calling to account and prosecuting those who any way
wronged them, his enemies, lying in wait for him, by the means of
Aristodicus the Tanagrxan, privately despatched him.

Cimon, while he was admiral, ended his days in the Isle of
Cyprus. And the aristocratical party, seeing that Pericles was al-
ready before this grown to be the greatest and foremost man of all
the city, but nevertheless wishing there should be somebody set up
against him, to blunt and turn the edge of his power, that it might
not altogether prove a monarchy, put forward Thucydides of Alo-
pece, a discreet person, and a near kinsman of Cimon's, to conduct
the opposition against him; who, indeed, though less skilled in war-
like affairs than Cimon was, yet was better versed in speaking and
political business, and keeping close guard in the city, and engaging
with Pericles on the hustings, in a short time brought the govern-
ment to an equality of parties. For he would not suffer those who
were called the honest and good (persons of worth and distinction)
to be scattered up and down and mix themselves and be lost among
the populace, as formerly, diminishing and obscuring their supe-

PERICLES 47

riority amongst the masses; but taking them apart by themselves
and uniting them in one body, by their combined weight he was
able, as it were upon the balance, to make a counterpoise to the other
party.

For, indeed, there was from the beginning a sort of concealed
split, or seam, as it might be in a piece of iron, marking the different
popular and aristocratical tendencies; but the open rivalry and con-
tention of these two opponents made the gash deep, and severed the
city into the two parties of the people and the few. And so Peri-
cles, at that time more than at any other, let loose the reins to the
people, and made his policy subservient to their pleasure, contriving
continually to have some great public show or solemnity, some ban-
quet, or some procession or other in the town to please them, coax-
ing his countrymen like children, with such delights and pleasures
as were not, however, unedifying. Besides that every year he sent
out three-score galleys, on board of which there went numbers of
the citizens, who were in pay eight months, learning at the same
time and practising the art of seamanship.

He sent, moreover, a thousand of them into the Chersonese as
planters, to share the land among them by lot, and five hundred
more into the isle of Naxos, and half that number to Andros, a
thousand into Thrace to dwell among the Bisaltae, and others into
Italy, when the city Sybaris, which now was called Thurii, was to
be repeopled. And this he did to ease and discharge the city of an
idle, and, by reason of their idleness, a busy, meddling crowd of
people; and at the same time to meet the necessities and restore the
fortunes of the poor townsmen, and to intimidate, also, and check
their allies from attempting any change, by posting such garrisons,
as it were, in the midst of them.

That which gave most pleasure and ornament to the city of
Athens, and the greatest admiration and even astonishment to all
strangers, and that which now is Greece's only evidence that the
power she boasts of and her ancient wealth are no romance or idle
story, was his construction of the public and sacred buildings. Yet
this was that of all his actions in the government which his enemies
most looked askance upon and cavilled at in the popular assem-
blies, crying out how that the commonwealth of Athens had lost its

48 plutarch's lives

reputation and was ill-spoken of abroad for removing the common
treasure of the Greeks from the isle of Delos into their own cus-
tody; and how that their fairest excuse for so doing, namely, that
they took it away for fear the barbarians should seize it, and on
purpose to secure it in a safe place, this Pericles had made unavail-
able, and how that "Greece cannot but resent it as an insufferable
affront, and consider herself to be tyrannized over openly, when she
sees the treasure, which was contributed by her upon a necessity
for the war, wantonly lavished out by us upon our city, to gild her
all over, and to adorn and set her forth, as it were some vain
woman, hung round with precious stones and figures and temples,
which cost a world of money."

Pericles, on the other hand, informed the people, that they were
in no way obliged to give any account of those moneys to their
allies, so long as they maintained their defence, and kept off the
barbarians from attacking them; while in the meantime they did
not so much as supply one horse or man or ship, but only found
money for the service; "which money," said he, "is not theirs that
give it, but theirs that receive it, if so be they perform the conditions
upon which they receive it." And that it was good reason, that, now
the city was sufficiently provided and stored with all things necessary
for the war, they should convert the overplus of its wealth to such
undertakings, as would hereafter, when completed, give them
eternal honor, and, for the present, while in process, freely supply
all the inhabitants with plenty. With their variety of workmanship
and of occasions for service, which summon all arts and trades and
require all hands to be employed about them, they do actually put
the whole city, in a manner, into state-pay; while at the same time
she is both beautified and maintained by herself. For as those who
are of age and strength for war are provided for and maintained
in the armaments abroad by their pay out of the public stock, so,
it being his desire and design that the undisciplined mechanic multi-
tude that stayed at home should not go without their share of pub-
lic salaries, and yet should not have them given them for sitting
still and doing nothing, to that end he thought fit to bring in
among them, with the approbation of the people, these vast projects
of buildings and designs of works, that would be of some continu-

PERICLES 49

ance before they were finished, and would give employment to
numerous arts, so that the part of the people that stayed at home
might, no less than those that were at sea or in garrisons or on ex-
peditions, have a fair and just occasion of receiving the benefit and
having their share of the public moneys.

The materials were stone, brass, ivory, gold, ebony, cypress-wood;
and the arts or trades that wrought and fashioned them were smiths
and carpenters, moulders, founders and braziers, stone-cutters, dyers,
goldsmiths, ivory-workers, painters, embroiderers, turners; those
again that conveyed them to the town for use, merchants and mari-
ners and shipmasters by sea, and by land, cartwrights, cattle-breed-
ers, waggoners, rope-makers, flax-workers, shoe-makers and leather-
dressers, road-makers, miners. And every trade in the same nature,
as a captain in an army has his particular company of soldiers under
him, had its own hired company of journeymen and laborers be-
longing to it banded together as in array, to be as it were the instru-
ment and body for the performance of the service. Thus, to say all
in a word, the occasions and services of these public works distrib-
uted plenty through every age and condition.

As then grew the works up, no less stately in size than exquisite
in form, the workmen striving to outvie the material and the de-
sign with the beauty of their workmanship, yet the most wonder-
ful thing of all was the rapidity of their execution. Undertakings,
any one of which singly might have required, they thought, for
their completion, several successions and ages of men, were every
one of them accomplished in the height and prime of one man's
political service. Although they say, too, that Zeuxis once, having
heard Agatharchus the painter boast of despatching his work with
speed and ease, replied, "I take a long time." For ease and speed
in doing a thing do not give the work lasting solidity or exactness
of beauty; the expenditure of time allowed to a man's pains before-
hand for the production of a thing is repaid by way of interest with
a vital force for its preservation when once produced. For which
reason Pericles's works are especially admired, as having been
made quickly, to last long. For every particular piece of his work
was immediately, even at that time, for its beauty and elegance,
antique; and yet in its vigor and freshness looks to this day as if

50 plutarch's lives

it were just executed. There is a sort of bloom of newness upon
those works of his, preserving them from the touch of time, as if
they had some perennial spirit and undying vitality mingled in the
composition of them.

Phidias had the oversight of all the works, and was surveyor-
general, though upon the various portions other great masters and
workmen were employed. For Callicrates and Ictinus built the
Parthenon; the chapel at Eleusis, where the mysteries were cele-
brated, was begun by Corcebus, who erected the pillars that stand
upon the floor or pavement, and joined them to the architraves; and
after his death Metagenes of Xypete added the frieze and the upper
line of columns; Xenocles of Cholargus roofed or arched the lantern
on the top of the temple of Castor and Pollux; and the long wall,
which Socrates says he himself heard Pericles propose to the people,
was undertaken by Callicrates. This work Cratinus ridicules, as
long in finishing, —

" 'Tis long since Pericles, if words would do it,
Talk'd up the wall; yet adds not one mite to it."

The Odeum, or music-room, which in its interior was full of seats
and ranges of pillars, and outside had its roof made to slope and
descend from one single point at the top, was constructed, we are
told, in imitation of the king of Persia's Pavilion; this likewise by
Pericles's order; which Cratinus again, in his comedy called The
Thracian Women, made an occasion of raillery, —

"So, we see here,
Jupiter Long-pate Pericles appear,
Since ostracism time, he's laid aside his head,
And wears the new Odeum in its stead."

Pericles, also, eager for distinction, then first obtained the decree
for a contest in musical skill to be held yearly at the Panathensea,
and he himself, being chosen judge, arranged the order and method
in which the competitors should sing and play on the flute and on
the harp. And both at that time, and at other times also, they sat
in this music-room to see and hear all such trials of skill.

The propylxa, or entrances to the Acropolis, were finished in five
years' time, Mnesicles being the principal architect. A strange acci-

PERICLES 51

dent happened in the course of building, which showed that the
goddess was not averse to the work, but was aiding and cooperating
to bring it to perfection. One of the artificers, the quickest and the
handiest workman among them all, with a slip of his foot fell down
from a great height, and lay in a miserable condition, the physicians
having no hopes of his recovery. When Pericles was in distress
about this, Minerva appeared to him at night in a dream, and or-
dered a course of treatment, which he applied, and in a short time
and with great ease cured the man. And upon this occasion it was
that he set up a brass statue of Minerva, surnamed Health, in the
citadel near the altar, which they say was there before. But it was
Phidias who wrought the goddess's image in gold, and he has his
name inscribed on the pedestal as the workman of it; and indeed
the whole work in a manner was under his charge, and he had, as
we have said already, the oversight over all the artists and work-
men, through Pericles's friendship for him; and this, indeed, made
him much envied, and his patron shamefully slandered with stories,
as if Phidias were in the habit of receiving, for Pericles's use, free-
born women that came to see the works. The comic writers of the
town, when they had got hold of this story, made much of it, and
bespattered him with all the ribaldry they could invent, charging
him falsely with the wife of Menippus, one who was his friend and
served as lieutenant under him in the wars; and with the birds
kept by Pyrilampes, an acquaintance of Pericles, who, they pre-
tended, used to give presents of peacocks to Pericles's female friends.
And how can one wonder at any number of strange assertions from
men whose whole lives were devoted to mockery, and who were
ready at any time to sacrifice the reputation of their superiors to
vulgar envy and spite, as to some evil genius, when even Stesim-
brotus the Thasian has dared to lay to the charge of Pericles a
monstrous and fabulous piece of criminality with his son's wife?
So very difficult a matter is it to trace and find out the truth of any
thing by history, when, on the one hand, those who afterwards
write it find long periods of time intercepting their view, and, on
the other hand, the contemporary records of any actions and lives,
partly through envy and ill-will, pardy through favor and flattery,
pervert and distort truth.

52 PLUTARCH S LIVES

When the orators, who sided with Thucydides and his party,
were at one time crying out, as their custom was, against Pericles,
as one who squandered away the public money, and made havoc
of the state revenues, he rose in the open assembly and put the
question to the people, whether they thought that he had laid out
much; and they saying, "Too much, a great deal," "Then," said he,
"since it is so, let the cost not go to your account, but to mine; and
let the inscription upon the buildings stand in my name." When
they heard him say thus, whether it were out of a surprise to see
the greatness of his spirit, or out of emulation of the glory of the
works, they cried aloud, bidding him to spend on, and lay out what
he thought fit from the public purse, and to spare no cost, till all
were finished.

At length, coming to a final contest with Thucydides, which of
the two should ostracize the other out of the country, and having
gone through this peril, he drew his antagonist out, and broke up
the confederacy that had been organized against him. So that now
all schism and division being at an end, and the city brought to
evenness and unity, he got all Athens and all affairs that pertained
to the Athenians into his own hands, their tributes, their armies,
and their galleys, the islands, the sea, and their wide-extended power,
partly over other Greeks and partly over barbarians, and all that
empire, which they possessed, founded and fortified upon subject
nations and royal friendships and alliances.

After this he was no longer the same man he had been before,
nor as tame and gentle and familiar as formerly with the populace,
so as readily to yield to their pleasures and to comply with the de-
sires of the multitude, as a steersman shifts with the winds. Quit-
ting that loose, remiss, and, in some cases, licentious court of the
popular will, he turned those soft and flowery modulations to the
austerity of aristocratical and regal rule; and employing this up-
rightly and undeviatingly for the country's best interests, he was
able generally to lead the people along, with their own wills and
consents, by persuading and showing them what was to be done;
and sometimes, too, urging and pressing them forward extremely
against their will, he made them, whether they would or no, yield
submission to what was for their advantage. In which, to say the
truth, he did but like a skilful physician, who, in a complicated and

PERICLES 53

chronic disease, as he sees occasion, at one while allows his patient
the moderate use of such things as please him, at another while
gives him keen pains and drugs to work the cure. For there aris-
ing and growing up, as was natural, all manner of distempered
feelings among a people which had so vast a command and domin-
ion, he alone, as a great master, knowing how to handle and deal
fidy with each one of them, and, in an especial manner, making
that use of hopes and fears, as his two chief rudders, with the one to
check the career of their confidence at any time, with the other to
raise them up and cheer them when under any discouragement,
plainly showed by this, that rhetoric, or the art of speaking, is, in
Plato's language, the government of the souls of men, and that her
chief business is to address the affections and passions, which are
as it were the strings and keys to the soul, and require a skilful and
careful touch to be played on as they should be. The source of this
predominance was not barely his power of language, but, as Thucy-
dides assures us, the reputation of his life, and the confidence felt
in his character; his manifest freedom from every kind of corrup-
tion, and superiority to all considerations of money. Notwithstand-
ing he had made the city of Athens, which was great of itself, as
great and rich as can be imagined, and though he were himself
in power and interest more than equal to many kings and absolute
rulers, who some of them also bequeathed by will their power to
their children, he, for his part, did not make the patrimony his
father left him greater than it was by one drachma.

Thucydides, indeed, gives a plain statement of the greatness of
his power; and the comic poets, in their spiteful manner, more than
hint at it, styling his companions and friends the new Pisistratidae,
and calling on him to abjure any intention of usurpation, as one
whose eminence was too great to be any longer proportionable to
and compatible with a democracy or popular government. And
Teleclides says the Athenians had surrendered up to him —

"The tribute of the cities, and with them, the cities too, to do with them

as he pleases, and undo;
To build up, if he likes, stone walls around a town; and again, if so he

likes, to pull them down;
Their treaties and alliances, power, empire, peace, and war, their wealth

and their success forevermore."

54 PLUTARCH S LIVES

Nor was all this the luck of some happy occasion; nor was it the
mere bloom and grace of a policy that flourished for a season; but
having for forty years together maintained the first place among
statesmen such as Ephialtes and Leocrates and Myronides and Ci-
mon and Tolmides and Thucydides were, after the defeat and ban-
ishment of Thucydides, for no less than fifteen years longer, in the
exercise of one continuous unintermitted command in the office, to
which he was annually reelected, of General, he preserved his in-
tegrity unspotted; though otherwise he was not altogether idle or
careless in looking after his pecuniary advantage; his paternal es-
tate, which of right belonged to him, he so ordered that it might
neither through negligence be wasted or lessened, nor yet, being
so full of business as he was, cost him any great trouble or time with
taking care of it; and put it into such a way of management as he
thought to be the most easy for himself, and the most exact. All
his yearly products and profits he sold together in a lump, and sup-
plied his household needs afterward by buying every thing that he
or his family wanted out of the market. Upon which account, his
children, when they grew to age, were not well pleased with his
management, and the women that lived with him were treated
with little cost, and complained of his way of housekeeping, where
every thing was ordered and set down from day to day, and reduced
to the greatest exactness; since there was not there, as is usual in a
great family and a plentiful estate, any thing to spare, or over and
above; but all that went out or came in, all disbursements and all
receipts, proceeded as it were by number and measure. His manager
in all this was a single servant, Evangelus by name, a man either
naturally gifted or instructed by Pericles so as to excel every one
in this art of domestic economy.

All this, in truth, was very little in harmony with Anaxagoras's
wisdom; if, indeed, it be true that he, by a kind of divine impulse
and greatness of spirit, voluntarily quitted his house, and left his
land to lie fallow and to be grazed by sheep like a common. But
the life of a contemplative philosopher and that of an active states-
man are, I presume, not the same thing; for the one merely em-
ploys, upon great and good objects of thought, an intelligence that
requires no aid of instruments nor supply of any external mate-

PERICLES 55

rials; whereas the other, who tempers and applies his virtue to
human uses, may have occasion for affluence, not as a matter of mere
necessity, but as a noble thing; which was Pericles's case, who
relieved numerous poor citizens.

However, there is a story, that Anaxagoras himself, while Peri-
cles was taken up with public affairs, lay neglected, and that, now
being grown old, he wrapped himself up with a resolution to die
for want of food; which being by chance brought to Pericles's ear,
he was horror-struck, and instantly ran thither, and used all the
arguments and entreaties he could to him, lamenting not so much
Anaxagoras's condition as his own, should he lose such a coun-
sellor as he had found him to be; and that, upon this, Anaxagoras
unfolded his robe, and showing himself, made answer: "Pericles,"
said he, "even those who have occasion for a lamp supply it with
oil."

The Lacedarmonians beginning to show themselves troubled at
the growth of the Athenian power, Pericles, on the other hand, to
elevate the people's spirit yet more, and to raise them to the thought
of great actions, proposed a decree, to summon all the Greeks in
what part soever, whether of Europe or Asia, every city, little as
well as great, to send their deputies to Athens to a general assembly,
or convention, there to consult and advise concerning the Greek
temples which the barbarians had burnt down, and the sacrifices
which were due from them upon vows they had made to their gods
for the safety of Greece when they fought against the barbarians;
and also concerning the navigation of the sea, that they might
henceforward all of them pass to and fro and trade securely, and
be at peace among themselves.

Upon this errand, there were twenty men, of such as were above
fifty years of age, sent by commission; five to summon the Ionians
and Dorians in Asia, and the islanders as far as Lesbos and Rhodes;
five to visit all the places in the Hellespont and Thrace, up to
Byzantium; and other five besides these to go to Bceotia and Phocis
and Peloponnesus, and from hence to pass through the Locrians
over to the neighboring continent, as far as Acarnania and Am-
bracia; and the rest to take their course through Eubcea to the
CEtaeans and the Malian Gulf, and to the Achxans of Phthiotis and

56 plutarch's lives

the Thessalians; all of them to treat with the people as they passed,
and to persuade them to come and take their part in the debates for
settling the peace and jointly regulating the affairs of Greece.

Nothing was effected, nor did the cities meet by their deputies,
as was desired; the Lacedaemonians, as it is said, crossing the design
underhand, and the attempt being disappointed and baffled first
in Peloponnesus. I thought fit, however, to introduce the men-
tion of it, to show the spirit of the man and the greatness of his
thoughts.

In his military conduct, he gained a great reputation for wari-
ness; he would not by his good-will engage in any fight which had
much uncertainty or hazard; he did not envy the glory of generals
whose rash adventures fortune favored with brilliant success, how-
ever they were admired by others; nor did he think them worthy
his imitation, but always used to say to his citizens that, so far as
lay in his power, they should continue immortal, and live forever.
Seeing Tolmides, the son of Tolmarus, upon the confidence of his
former successes, and flushed with the honor his military actions
had procured him, making preparation to attack the Boeotians in
their own country, when there was no likely opportunity, and that
he had prevailed with the bravest and most enterprising of the
youth to enlist themselves as volunteers in the service, who besides
his other force made up a thousand, he endeavored to withhold
him and to advise him from it in the public assembly, telling him in a
memorable saying of his, which still goes about, that, if he would
not take Pericles's advice, yet he would not do amiss to wait and
be ruled by time, the wisest counsellor of all. This saying, at that
time, was but slightly commended; but within a few days after,
when news was brought that Tolmides himself had been defeated
and slain in battle near Coronea, and that many brave citizens had
fallen with him, it gained him great repute as well as good-will
among the people, for wisdom and for love of his countrymen.

But of all his expeditions, that to the Chersonese gave most sat-
isfaction and pleasure, having proved the safety of the Greeks who
inhabited there. For not only by carrying along with him a thou-
sand fresh citizens of Athens he gave new strength and vigor to the
cities, but also by belting the neck of land, which joins the penin-

PERICLES 57

sula to the continent, with bulwarks and forts from sea to sea, he
put a stop to the inroads of the Thracians, who lay all about the
Chersonese, and closed the door against a continual and grievous
war, with which that country had been long harassed, lying exposed
to the encroachments and influx of barbarous neighbors, and groan-
ing under the evils of a predatory population both upon and within
its borders.

Nor was he less admired and talked of abroad for his sailing
round the Peloponnesus, having set out from Pegac, or The Foun-
tains, the port of Megara, with a hundred galleys. For he not only
laid waste the sea-coast, as Tolmides had done before, but also, ad-
vancing far up into main land with the soldiers he had on board,
by the terror of his appearance drove many within their walls; and
at Nemea, with main force, routed and raised a trophy over the
Sicyonians, who stood their ground and joined battle with him.
And having taken on board a supply of soldiers into the galleys, out
of Achaia, then in league with Athens, he crossed with the fleet
to the opposite continent, and, sailing along by the mouth of the
river Achelous, overran Acarnania, and shut up the CEniada: within
their city walls, and having ravaged and wasted their country,
weighed anchor for home with the double advantage of having
shown himself formidable to his enemies, and at the same time
safe and energetic to his fellow-citizens; for there was not so much
as any chance-miscarriage that happened, the whole voyage through,
to those who were under his charge.

Entering also the Euxine Sea with a large and finely equipped
fleet, he obtained for the Greek cities any new arrangements they
wanted, and entered into friendly relations with them; and to the
barbarous nations, and kings and chiefs round about them, dis-
played the greatness of the power of the Athenians, their perfect
ability and confidence to sail wherever they had a mind, and to
bring the whole sea under their control. He left the Sinopians thir-
teen ships of war, with soldiers under the command of Lamachus,
to assist them against Timesileus the tyrant; and when he and his
accomplices had been thrown out, obtained a decree that six hun-
dred of the Athenians that were willing should sail to Sinope and
plant themselves there with the Sinopians, sharing among them

58 plutarch's lives

the houses and land which the tyrant and his party had previously
held.

But in other things he did not comply with the giddy impulses
of the citizens, nor quit his own resolutions to follow their fancies,
when, carried away with the thought of their strength and great suc-
cess, they were eager to interfere again in Egypt, and to disturb the
king of Persia's maritime dominions. Nay, there were a good many
who were, even then, possessed with that unblest and inauspicious
passion for Sicily, which afterward the orators of Alcibiades's party
blew up into a flame. There were some also who dreamt of Tuscany
and of Carthage, and not without plausible reason in their present
large dominion and the prosperous course of their affairs.

But Pericles curbed this passion for foreign conquest, and un-
sparingly pruned and cut down their ever busy fancies for a multi-
tude of undertakings; and directed their power for the most part to
securing and consolidating what they had already got, supposing it
would be quite enough for them to do, if they could keep the Lace-
daemonians in check; to whom he entertained all along a sense of
opposition; which, as upon many other occasions, so he particularly
showed by what he did in the time of the holy war. The Lacedae-
monians, having gone with an army to Delphi, restored Apollo's
temple, which the Phocians had got into their possession, to the
Delphians; immediately after their departure, Pericles, with another
army, came and restored the Phocians. And the Lacedaemonians
having engraven the record of their privilege of consulting the
oracle before others, which the Delphians gave them, upon the fore-
head of the brazen wolf which stands there, he, also, having received
from the Phocians the like privilege for the Athenians, had it cut
upon the same wolf of brass on his right side.

That he did well and wisely in thus restraining the exertions of
the Athenians within the compass of Greece, the events themselves
that happened afterward bore sufficient witness. For, in the first
place, the Eubceans revolted, against whom he passed over with
forces; and then, immediately after, news came that the Megarians
were turned their enemies, and a hostile army was upon the bor-
ders of Attica, under the conduct of Plistoanax, king of the Lace-
daemonians. Wherefore Pericles came with his army back again

PERICLES 59

in all haste out of Eubcea, to meet the war which threatened at
home; and did not venture to engage a numerous and brave army
eager for battle; but perceiving that Plistoanax was a very young
man, and governed himself mostly by the counsel and advice of
Cleandrides, whom the ephors had sent with him, by reason of
his youth, to be a kind of guardian and assistant to him, he privately
made trial of this man's integrity, and, in a short time, having cor-
rupted him with money, prevailed with him to withdraw the Pelo-
ponnesians out of Attica. When the army had retired and dispersed
into their several states, the Lacedaemonians in anger fined their
king in so large a sum of money, that, unable to pay it, he quitted
Lacedxmon; while Cleandrides fled, and had sentence of death
passed upon him in his absence. This was the father of Gylippus,
who overpowered the Athenians in Sicily. And it seems that this
covetousness was an hereditary disease transmitted from father to
son; for Gylippus also afterwards was caught in foul practices, and
expelled from Sparta for it. But this we have told at large in the
account of Lysander.

When Pericles, in giving up his accounts of this expedition,
stated a disbursement of ten talents, as laid out upon fit occasion,
the people, without any question, nor troubling themselves to in-
vestigate the mystery, freely allowed of it. And some historians,
in which number is Theophrastus the philosopher, have given it as
a truth that Pericles every year used to send privately the sum of
ten talents to Sparta, with which he complimented those in office,
to keep off the war; not to purchase peace neither, but time, that
he might prepare at leisure, and be the better able to carry on war
hereafter.

Immediately after this, turning his forces against the revolters,
and passing over into the island of Eubcea with fifty sail of ships
and five thousand men in arms, he reduced their cities, and drove
out the citizens of the Chalcidians, called Hippobota;, horse-feeders,
the chief persons for wealth and reputation among them; and re-
moving all the Histizans out of the country, brought in a planta-
tion of Athenians in their room; making them his one example of
severity, because they had captured an Attic ship and killed all on
board.

60 plutarch's lives

After this, having made a truce between the Athenians and Lace-
daemonians for thirty years, he ordered, by public decree, the expe-
dition against the Isle of Samos, on the ground, that, when they
were bid to leave off their war with the Milesians, they had not com-
plied. And as these measures against the Samians are thought to
have been taken to please Aspasia, this may be a fit point for inquiry
about the woman, what art or charming faculty she had that enabled
her to captivate, as she did, the greatest statesmen, and to give the
philosophers occasion to speak so much about her, and that, too,
not to her disparagement. That she was a Milesian by birth, the
daughter of Axiochus, is a thing acknowledged. And they say it
was in emulation of Thargelia, a courtesan of the old Ionian times,
that she made her addresses to men of great power. Thargelia was
a great beauty, extremely charming, and at the same time sagacious;
she had numerous suitors among the Greeks, and brought all who
had to do with her over to the Persian interest, and by their means,
being men of the greatest power and station, sowed the seeds of the
Median faction up and down in several cities. 7 Aspasia, some say,
was courted and caressed by Pericles upon account of her knowledge
and skill in politics. Socrates himself would sometimes go to visit
her, and some of his acquaintance with him; and those who fre-
quented her company would carry their wives with them to listen
to her. Her occupation was any thing but creditable, her house
being a home for young courtesans. jEschines tells us also, that
Lysicles, a sheep-dealer, a man of low birth and character, by keep-
ing Aspasia company after Pericles's death, came to be a chief man
in Athens. And in Plato's Menexenus, though we do not take the
introduction as quite serious, still thus much seems to be historical,
that she had the repute of being resorted to by many of the Atheni-
ans for instruction in the art of speaking. Pericles's inclination for
her seems, however, to have rather proceeded from the passion of
love. He had a wife that was near of kin to him, who had been
married first to Hipponicus, by whom she had Callias, sm named
the Rich; and also she brought Pericles, while she lived with him,
two sons, Xanthippus and Paralus. Afterwards, when they did not

7 She was married, says Athenzus, to fourteen husbands; a woman of great beauty
and intellect

PERICLES 6l

well agree nor like to live together, he parted with her, with her
own consent, to another man, and himself took Aspasia, and loved
her with wonderful affection; every day, both as he went out and
as he came in from the market-place, he saluted and kissed her.

In the comedies she goes by the nicknames of the new Omphale
and Deianira, and again is styled Juno. Cratinus, in downright
terms, calls her a harlot.

"To find him a Juno the goddess of lust
Bore that harlot past shame,
Aspasia by name."

It should seem, also, that he had a son by her; Eupolis, in his Demi,
introduced Pericles asking after his safety, and Myronides replying,

"My son?" "He lives; a man he had been long,
But that the harlot-mother did him wrong."

Aspasia, they say, became so celebrated and renowned, that Cyrus
also, who made war against Artaxerxes for the Persian monarchy,
gave her whom he loved the best of all his concubines the name of
Aspasia, who before that was called Milto. She was a Phocacan by
birth, the daughter of one Hermotimus, and, when Cyrus fell in
battle, was carried to the king, and had great influence at court.
These things coming into my memory as I am writing this story,
it would be unnatural for me to omit them.

Pericles, however, was particularly charged with having proposed
to the assembly the war against the Samians, from favor to the
Milesians, upon the entreaty of Aspasia. For the two states were at
war for the possession of Priene; and the Samians, getting the better,
refused to lay down their arms and to have the controversy betwixt
them decided by arbitration before the Athenians. Pericles, there-
fore, fitting out a fleet, went and broke up the oligarchical govern-
ment at Samos, and, taking fifty of the principal men of the town
as hostages, and as many of their children, sent them to the isle of
Lemnos, there to be kept, though he had offers, as some relate, of
a talent a piece for himself from each one of the hostages, and of
many other presents from those who were anxious not to have a
democracy. Moreover, Pissuthnes the Persian, one of the king's
lieutenants, bearing some good-will to the Samians, sent him ten

62 plutarch's lives

thousand pieces of gold to excuse the city. Pericles, however, would
receive none of all this; but after he had taken that course with the
Samians which he thought fit, and set up a democracy among them,
sailed back to Athens.

But they, however, immediately revolted, Pissuthnes having
privily got away their hostages for them, and provided them with
means for the war. Whereupon Pericles came out with a fleet a
second time against them, and found them not idle nor slinking
away, but manfully resolved to try for the dominion of the sea. The
issue was, that, after a sharp sea-fight about the island called Tragia,
Pericles obtained a decisive victory, having with forty-four ships
routed seventy of the enemy's, twenty of which were carrying
soldiers.

Together with his victory and pursuit, having made himself mas-
ter of the port, he laid siege to the Samians, and blocked them up,
who yet, one way or other, still ventured to make sallies, and fight
under the city walls. But after that another greater fleet from Athens
was arrived, and that the Samians were now shut up with a close
leaguer on every side, Pericles, taking with him sixty galleys, sailed
out into the main sea, with the intention, as most authors give the
account, to meet a squadron of Phoenician ships that were coming
for the Samians' relief, and to fight them at as great distance as
could be from the island; but, as Stesimbrotus says, with a design
of putting over to Cyprus; which does not seem to be probable. But
whichever of the two was his intent, it seems to have been a mis-
calculation. For on his departure, Melissus, the son of Ithagenes,
a philosopher, being at that time general in Samos, despising either
the small number of the ships that were left or the inexperience of
the commanders, prevailed with the citizens to attack the Athenians.
And the Samians having won the battle, and taken several of the
men prisoners, and disabled several of the ships, were masters of
the sea, and brought into port all necessaries they wanted for the
war, which they had not before. Aristotle says, too, that Pericles him-
self had been once before this worsted by this Melissus in a sea-fight.

The Samians, that they might requite an affront which had before
been put upon them, branded the Athenians, whom they took

PERICLES 63

prisoners, in their foreheads, with the figure of an owl. For so the
Athenians had marked them before with a Samaena, which is a sort
of ship, low and flat in the prow, so as to look snub-nosed, but wide
and large and well-spread in the hold, by which it both carries a
large cargo and sails well. And it was so called, because the first of
that kind was seen at Samos, having been built by order of Poly-
crates the tyrant. These brands upon the Samians' foreheads, they
say, are the allusion in the passage of Aristophanes, where he says, —

"For, oh, the Samians are a lettered people."

Pericles, as soon as news was brought him of the disaster that had
befallen his army, made all the haste he could to come in to their
relief, and having defeated Melissus, who bore up against him, and
put the enemy to flight, he immediately proceeded to hem them in
with a wall, resolving to master them and take the town, rather with
some cost and time, than with the wounds and hazards of his citi-
zens. But as it was a hard matter to keep back the Athenians, who
were vexed at the delay, and were eagerly bent to fight, he divided
the whole multitude into eight parts, and arranged by lot that that
part which had the white bean should have leave to feast and take
their ease, while the other seven were fighting. And this is the
reason, they say, that people, when at any time they have been merry,
and enjoyed themselves, call it white day, in allusion to this white
bean.

Ephorus the historian tells us besides, that Pericles made use of
engines of battery in this siege, being much taken with the curious-
ness of the invention, with the aid and presence of Artemon him-
self, the engineer, who, being lame, used to be carried about in a
litter, where the works required his attendance, and for that reason
was called Periphoretus. But Heraclides Ponticus disproves this out
of Anacreon's poems, where mention is made of this Artemon
Periphoretus several ages before the Samian war, or any of these
occurrences. And he says that Artemon, being a man who loved
his ease, and had a great apprehension of danger, for the most part
kept close within doors, having two of his servants to hold a brazen
shield over his head, that nothing might fall upon him from above;

64 plutarch's lives

and if he were at any time forced upon necessity to go abroad,
that he was carried about in a little hanging bed, close to the very
ground, and that for this reason he was called Periphoretus.

In the ninth month, the Samians surrendering themselves and
delivering up the town, Pericles pulled down their walls, and seized
their shipping, and set a fine of a large sum of money upon them,
part of which they paid down at once, and they agreed to bring
in the rest by a certain time, and gave hostages for security. Duris
the Samian makes a tragical drama out of these events, charging
the Athenians and Pericles with a great deal of cruelty, which
neither Thucydides, nor Ephorus, nor Aristotle have given any rela-
tion of, and probably with little regard to truth; how, for example,
he brought the captains and soldiers of the galleys into the market-
place at Miletus, and there having bound them fast to boards for
ten days, then, when they were already all but half dead, gave order
to have them killed by beating out their brains with clubs, and their
dead bodies to be flung out into the open streets and fields, unburied.
Duris, however, who even where he has no private feeling con-
cerned, is not wont to keep his narrative within the limits of truth,
is the more likely upon this occasion to have exaggerated the calami-
ties which befell his country, to create odium against the Athenians.
Pericles, however, after the reduction of Samos, returning back to
Athens, took care that those who died in the war should be hon-
orably buried, and made a funeral harangue, as the custom is, in
their commendation at their graves, for which he gained great
admiration. As he came down from the stage on which he spoke,
the rest of the women came and complimented him, taking him by
the hand, and crowning him with garlands and ribbons, like a vic-
torious athlete in the games; but Elpinice, coming near to him, said,
"These are brave deeds, Pericles, that you have done, and such as
deserve our chaplets; who have lost us many a worthy citizen, not in
a war with Phoenicians or Medes, like my brother Cimon, but for
the overthrow of an allied and kindred city." As Elpinice spoke
these words, he, smiling quietly, as it is said, returned her answer
with this verse, —

"Old women should not seek to be perfumed."

PERICLES 65

Ion says of him, that, upon this exploit of his, conquering the
Samians, he indulged very high and proud thoughts of himself:
whereas Agamemnon was ten years a-taking a barbarous city, he
had in nine months' time vanquished and taken the greatest and
most powerful of the Ionians. And indeed it was not without reason
that he assumed this glory to himself, for, in real truth, there was
much uncertainty and great hazard in this war, if so be, as Thucy-
dides tells us, the Samian state were within a very little of wresting
the whole power and dominion of the sea out of the Athenians'
hands.

After this was over, the Peloponnesian war beginning to break
out in full tide, he advised the people to send help to the Corcyraeans,
who were attacked by the Corinthians, and to secure to themselves an
island possessed of great naval resources, since the Peloponnesians
were already all but in actual hostilities against them. The people
readily consenting to the motion, and voting an aid and succor for
them, he despatched Lacedxmonius, Cimon's son, having only ten
ships with him, as it were out of a design to affront him; for there
was a great kindness and friendship betwixt Cimon's family and
the Lacedaemonians; so, in order that Lacedjemonius might lie the
more open to a charge, or suspicion at least, of favoring the Lace-
daemonians and playing false, if he performed no considerable ex-
ploit in this service, he allowed him a small number of ships, and
sent him out against his will; and indeed he made it somewhat his
business to hinder Cimon's sons from rising in the state, professing
that by their very names they were not to be looked upon as native
and true Athenians, but foreigners and strangers, one being called
Lacedarmonius, another Thessalus, and the third Eleus; and they
were all three of them, it was thought, born of an Arcadian woman.
Being, however, ill spoken of on account of these ten galleys, as
having afforded but a small supply to the people that were in need,
and yet given a great advantage to those who might complain of the
act of intervention, Pericles sent out a larger force afterward to
Corcyra, which arrived after the fight was over. And when now
the Corinthians, angry and indignant with the Athenians, accused
them publicly at Lacedaemon, the Megarians joined with them, com-

66 plutarch's lives

plaining that they were, contrary to common right and the articles
of peace sworn to among the Greeks, kept out and driven away
from every market and from all ports under the control of the
Athenians. The ^Eginetans, also, professing to be ill-used and treated
with violence, made supplications in private to the Lacedaemonians
for redress, though not daring openly to call the Athenians in ques-
tion. In the mean time, also, the city of Potidxa, under the dominion
of the Athenians, but a colony formerly of the Corinthians, had re-
volted, and was beset with a formal siege, and was a further occasion
of precipitating the war.

Yet notwithstanding all this, there being embassies sent to Athens,
and Archidamus, the king of the Lacedaemonians, endeavoring to
bring the greater part of the complaints and matters in dispute to
a fair determination, and to pacify and allay the heats of the allies,
it is very likely that the war would not upon any other grounds of
quarrel have fallen upon the Athenians, could they have been pre-
vailed with to repeal the ordinance against the Megarians, and to
be reconciled to them. Upon which account, since Pericles was the
man who mainly opposed it, and stirred up the people's passions to
persist in their contention with the Megarians, he was regarded as
the sole cause of the war.

They say, moreover, that ambassadors went, by order from Lace-
daemon to Athens about this very business, and that when Pericles
was urging a certain law which made it illegal to take down or
withdraw the tablet of the decree, one of the ambassadors, Polyalces
by name, said, "Well, do not take it down then, but turn it; there is
no law, I suppose, which forbids that"; 8 which, though prettily said,
did not move Pericles from his resolution. There may have been,
in all likelihood, something of a secret grudge and private animosity
which he had against the Megarians. Yet, upon a public and open
charge against them, that they had appropriated part of the sacred
land on the frontier, he proposed a decree that a herald should be
sent to them, and the same also to the Lacedaemonians, with an
accusation of the Megarians; an order which certainly shows equit-
able and friendly proceeding enough. And after that the herald

* The word for taking down, in the literal sense, is also the technical term for
revoking, or repealing; hence the Spartans play upon the two senses. "If you may
not take it down, turn it, with its face to the wall."

PERICLES 67

who was sent, by name Anthemocritus, died, and it was believed
that the Megarians had contrived his death, then Charinus pro-
posed a decree against them, that there should be an irreconcilable
and implacable enmity thenceforward betwixt the two common-
wealths; and that if any one of the Megarians should but set his
foot in Attica, he should be put to death; and that the commanders,
when they take the usual oath, should, over and above that, swear
that they will twice every year make an inroad into the Megarian
country; and that Anthemocritus should be buried near the Thri-
asian Gates, which are now called the Dipylon, or Double Gate.
On the other hand, the Megarians, utterly denying and disowning
the murder of Anthemocritus, throw the whole matter upon Aspasia
and Pericles, availing themselves of the famous verses in the Achar-
nians,

"To Megara some of our madcaps ran,
And stole Si mart ha thence, their courtesan.
Which exploit the Megarians to outdo,
Came to Aspasia's house, and took off two."

The true occasion of the quarrel is not so easy to find out. But of
inducing the refusal to annul the decree, all alike charge Pericles.
Some say he met the request with a positive refusal, out of high
spirit and a view of the state's best interests, accounting that the de-
mand made in those embassies was designed for a trial of their
compliance, and that a concession would be taken for a confession
of weakness, as if they durst not do otherwise; while other some
there are who say that it was rather out of arrogance and a wilful
spirit of contention, to show his own strength, that he took occasion
to slight the Lacedxmonians. The worst motive of all, which is
confirmed by most witnesses, is to the following effect. Phidias the
Moulder had, as has before been said, undertaken to make the
statue of Minerva. Now he, being admitted to friendship with
Pericles, and a great favorite of his, had many enemies upon this
account, who envied and maligned him; who also, to make trial in
a case of his, what kind of judges the commons would prove, should
there be occasion to bring Pericles himself before them, having
tampered with Menon, one who had been a workman with Phidias,
stationed him in the market-place, with a petition desiring public

68 plutarch's lives

security upon his discovery and impeachment of Phidias. The
people admitting the man to tell his story, and the prosecution pro-
ceeding in the assembly, there was nothing of theft or cheat proved
against him; for Phidias, from the very first beginning, by the advice
of Pericles, had so wrought and wrapt the gold that was used in
the work about the statue, that they might take it all off and make
out the just weight of it, which Pericles at that time bade the
accusers do. But the reputation of his works was what brought envy
upon Phidias, especially that where he represents the fight of the
Amazons upon the goddesses' shield, he had introduced a likeness
of himself as a bald old man holding up a great stone with both
hands, and had put in a very fine representation of Pericles fighting
with an Amazon. And the position of the hand, which holds out
the spear in front of the face, was ingeniously contrived to conceal
in some degree the likeness, which, meantime, showed itself on
either side.

Phidias then was carried away to prison, and there died of a
disease; but, as some say, of poison, administered by the enemies of
Pericles, to raise a slander, or a suspicion, at least, as though he had
procured it. The informer Menon, upon Glycon's proposal, the
people made free from payment of taxes and customs, and ordered
the generals to take care that nobody should do him any hurt. About
the same time, Aspasia was indicted of impiety, upon the complaint
of Hermippus the comedian, who also laid further to her charge that
she received into her house freeborn women for the uses of Pericles.
And Diopithes proposed a decree, that public accusation should be
laid against persons who neglected religion, or taught new doctrines
about things above," directing suspicion, by means of Anaxagoras,
against Pericles himself. The people receiving and admitting these
accusations and complaints, at length, by this means, they came to
enact a decree, at the motion of Dracontides, that Pericles should
bring in the accounts of the moneys he had expended, and lodge
them with the Prytanes; and that the judges, carrying their suffrage
from the altar in the Acropolis, should examine and determine the

8 "Supera ac ccelestia," as Cicero translates the words meleora and melarsia, whence
we have formed our meteorology. The whole Greek religion was based on certain con-
ceptions of such phenomena, any tampering with which was, therefore, quickly
resented.

PERICLES 69

business in the city. This last clause Hagnon took out of the decree,
and moved that the causes should be tried before fifteen hundred
jurors, whether they should be styled prosecutions for robbery, or
bribery, or any kind of malversation. Aspasia, Pericles begged off,
shedding, as iEschines says, many tears at the trial, and personally
entreating the jurors. But fearing how it might go with Anaxagoras,
he sent him out of the city. And finding that in Phidias's case he
had miscarried with the people, being afraid of impeachment, he
kindled the war, which hitherto had lingered and smothered, and
blew it up into a flame; hoping, by that means, to disperse and
scatter these complaints and charges, and to allay their jealousy; the
city usually throwing herself upon him alone, and trusting to his
sole conduct, upon the urgency of great affairs and public dangers,
by reason of his authority and the sway he bore.

These are given out to have been the reasons which induced
Pericles not to suffer the people of Athens to yield to the proposals
of the Lacedaemonians; but their truth is uncertain.

The Lacedxmonians, for their part, feeling sure that if they
could once remove him, they might be at what terms they pleased
with the Athenians, sent them word that they should expel the
"Pollution" with which Pericles on the mother's side was tainted,
as Thucydides tells us. But the issue proved quite contrary to what
those who sent the message expected; instead of bringing Pericles
under suspicion and reproach, they raised him into yet greater credit
and esteem with the citizens, as a man whom their enemies most
hated and feared. In the same way, also, before Archidamus, who
was at the head of the Peloponnesians, made his invasion into
Attica, he told the Athenians beforehand, that if Archidamus, while
he laid waste the rest of the country, should forbear and spare his
estate, either on the ground of friendship or right of hospitality that
was betwixt them, or on purpose to give his enemies an occasion of
traducing him, that then he did freely bestow upon the state all that
his land and the buildings upon it for the public use. The Lace-
daemonians, therefore, and their allies, with a great army, invaded
the Athenian territories, under the conduct of king Archidamus,
and laying waste the country, marched on as far as Acharnae, and
there pitched their camp, presuming that the Athenians would never

_»_

70 PLUTARCH S LIVES

endure that, but would come out and fight them for their country's
and their honor's sake. But Pericles looked upon it as dangerous
to engage in battle, to the risk o£ the city itself, against sixty thou-
sand men-at-arms of Peloponnesians and Boeotians; for so many
they were in number that made the inroad at first; and he endeav-
ored to appease those who were desirous to fight, and were grieved
and discontented to see how things went, and gave them good
words, saying, that "trees, when they are lopped and cut, grow up
again in a short time, but men, being once lost, cannot easily be
recovered." He did not convene the people into an assembly, for
fear lest they should force him to act against his judgment; but, like
a skilful steersman or pilot of a ship, who, when a sudden squall
comes on, out at sea, makes all his arrangements, sees that all is
tight and fast, and then follows the dictates of his skill, and minds
the business of the ship, taking no notice of the tears and entreaties
of the sea-sick and fearful passengers, so he, having shut up the
city gates, and placed guards at all posts for security, followed his
own reason and judgment, little regarding those that cried out
against him and were angry at his management, although there
were a great many of his friends that urged him with requests, and
many of his enemies threatened and accused him for doing as he did,
and many made songs and lampoons upon him, which were sung
about the town to his disgrace, reproaching him with the cowardly
exercise of his office of general, and the tame abandonment of every-
thing to the enemy's hands.

Cleon, also, already was among his assailants, making use of the
feeling against him as a step to the leadership of the people, as
appears in the anapaestic verses of Hermippus.

"Satyr-king, instead of swords,
Will you always handle words?
Very brave indeed we find them,
But a Teles 10 lurks behind them.

"Yet to gnash your teeth you're seen,
When the little dagger keen,
Whetted every day anew,
Of sharp Cleon touches you."

10 Apparently some notorious coward.

PERICLES 71

Pericles, however, was not at all moved by any attacks, but took
all patiently, and submitted in silence to the disgrace they threw
upon him and the ill-will they bore him; and, sending out a fleet of
a hundred galleys to Peloponnesus, he did not go along with it in
person, but stayed behind, that he might watch at home and keep
the city under his own control, till the Peloponnesians broke up their
camp and were gone. Yet to soothe the common people, jaded and
distressed with the war, he relieved them with distributions of pub-
lic moneys, and ordained new divisions of subject land. For having
turned out all the people of ^Egina, he parted the island among the
Athenians, according to lot. Some comfort, also, and ease in their
miseries, they might receive from what their enemies endured. For
the fleet, sailing round the Peloponnese, ravaged a great deal of the
country, and pillaged and plundered the towns and smaller cities;
and by land he himself entered with an army the Megarian country,
and made havoc of it all. Whence it is clear that the Peloponnesians,
though they did the Athenians much mischief by land, yet suffering
as much themselves from them by sea, would not have protracted
the war to such a length, but would quickly have given it over, as
Pericles at first foretold they would, had not some divine power
crossed human purposes.

In the first place, the pestilential disease, or plague, seized upon
the city, and ate up all the flower and prime of their youth and
strength. Upon occasion of which, the people, distempered and
afflicted in their souls, as well as in their bodies, were utterly enraged
like madmen against Pericles, and, like patients grown delirious,
sought to lay violent hands on their physician, or, as it were, their
father. They had been possessed, by his enemies, with the belief
that the occasion of the plague was the crowding of the country
people together into the town, forced as they were now, in the heat
of the summer-weather, to dwell many of them together even as
they could, in small tenements and stifling hovels, and to be tied to
a lazy course of life within doors, whereas before they lived in a
pure, open and free air. The cause and author of all this, said they,
is he who on account of the war has poured a multitude of people
from the country in upon us within the walls, and uses all these
many men that he has here upon no employ or service, but keeps

72 PLUTARCH S LIVES

them pent up like cattle, to be overrun with infection from one
another, affording them neither shift of quarters nor any refresh-
ments.

With the design to remedy these evils, and do the enemy some
inconvenience, Pericles got a hundred and fifty galleys ready, and
having embarked many tried soldiers, both foot and horse, was
about to sail out, giving great hope to his citizens, and no less alarm
to his enemies, upon the sight of so great a force. And now the
vessels having their complement of men, and Pericles being gone
aboard his own galley, it happened that the sun was eclipsed, and it
grew dark on a sudden, to the affright of all, for this was looked
upon as extremely ominous. Pericles, therefore, perceiving the steers-
man seized with fear and at a loss what to do, took his cloak and
held it up before the man's face, and, screening him with it so that
he could not see, asked him whether he imagined there was any
great hurt, or the sign of any great hurt in this, and he answering
No, "Why," said he, "and what does that differ from this, only that
what has caused that darkness there, is something greater than a
cloak?" This is a story which philosophers tell their scholars. Peri-
cles, however, after putting out to sea, seems not to have done any
other exploit befitting such preparations, and when he had laid
siege to the holy city Epidaurus, which gave him some hope of sur-
render, miscarried in his design by reason of the sickness. For it
not only seized upon the Athenians, but upon all others, too, that
held any sort of communication with the army. Finding after this
the Athenians ill affected and highly displeased with him, he tried
and endeavored what he could to appease and re-encourage them.
But he could not pacify or allay their anger, nor persuade or prevail
with them any way, till they freely passed their votes upon him,
resumed their power, took away his command from him, and fined
him in a sum of money; which, by their account that say least, was
fifteen talents, while they who reckon most, name fifty. The name
prefixed to the accusation was Cleon, as Idomeneus tells us; Sim-
mias, according to Theophrastus; and Heradides Ponticus gives it
as Lacratidas.

After this, public troubles were soon to leave him unmolested;
the people, so to say, discharged their passion in their stroke, and

PERICLES 73

lost their stings in the wound. But his domestic concerns were in
an unhappy condition, many of his friends and acquaintance having
died in the plague time, and those of his family having long since
been in disorder and in a kind of mutiny against him. For the
eldest of his lawfully begotten sons, Xanthippus by name, being
naturally prodigal, and marrying a young and expensive wife, the
daughter of Tisander, son of Epilycus, was highly offended at his
father's economy in making him but a scanty allowance, by little and
little at a time. He sent, therefore, to a friend one day, and borrowed
some money of him in his father Pericles's name, pretending it was
by his order. The man coming afterward to demand the debt, Peri-
cles was so far from yielding to pay it, that he entered an action
against him. Upon which the young man, Xanthippus, thought him-
self so ill used and disobliged, that he openly reviled his father; tell-
ing first, by way of ridicule, stories about his conversations at home,
and the discourses he had with the sophists and scholars that came
to his house. As for instance, how one who was a practiser of the
five games of skill," having with a dart or javelin unawares against
his will struck and killed Epitimus the Pharsalian, his father spent a
whole day with Protagoras in a serious dispute, whether the javelin,
or the man that threw it, or the masters of the games who appointed
these sports, were, according to the strictest and best reason, to be
accounted the cause of this mischance. Beside this, Stesimbrotus tells
us that it was Xanthippus who spread abroad among the people the
infamous story concerning his own wife; and in general that this
difference of the young man's with his father, and the breach be-
twixt them, continued never to be healed or made up till his death.
For Xanthippus died in the plague time of the sickness. At which
time Pericles also lost his sister, and the greatest part of his rela-
tions and friends, and those who had been most useful and service-
able to him in managing the affairs of state. However, he did not
shrink or give in upon these occasions, nor betray or lower his high
spirit and the greatness of his mind under all his misfortunes; he
was not even so much as seen to weep or to mourn, or even attend

" These are recorded in a pentameter verse by Simonidcs.

Halma, podokcicn, discon, aconta, palen.

Leaping, and swiftness of foot, wrestling, the discus, the dart.

»

74 PLUTARCH S LIVES

the burial of any of his friends or relations, till at last he lost his
only remaining legitimate son. Subdued by this blow, and yet
striving still, as far as he could, to maintain his principle, and to
preserve and keep up the greatness of his soul, when he came, how-
ever, to perform the ceremony of putting a garland of flowers upon
the head of the corpse, he was vanquished by his passion at the sight,
so that he burst into exclamations, and shed copious tears, having
never done any such thing in all his life before.

The city having made trial of other generals for the conduct of
war, and orators for business of state, when they found there was
no one who was of weight enough for such a charge, or of authority
sufficient to be trusted with so great a command, regretted the loss
of him, and invited him again to address and advise them, and to
reassume the office of general. He, however, lay at home in dejec-
tion and mourning; but was persuaded by Alcibiades and others of
his friends to come abroad and show himself to the people; who
having, upon his appearance, made their acknowledgments, and
apologized for their untowardly treatment of him, he undertook the
public affairs once more; and, being chosen general, requested that
the statute concerning base-born children, which he himself had
formerly caused to be made, might be suspended; that so the name
and race of his family might not, for absolute want of a lawful
heir to succeed, be wholly lost and extinguished. The case of the
statute was thus: Pericles, when long ago at the height of his power
in the state, having then, as has been said, children lawfully begot-
ten, proposed a law that those only should be reputed true citizens
of Athens who were born of such parents as were both Athenians.
After this, the king of Egypt having sent to the people, by way of
present, forty thousand bushels of wheat, which were to be shared
out among the citizens, a great many actions and suits about legiti-
macy occurred, by virtue of that edict; cases which, till that time,
had not been known nor taken notice of; and several persons suf-
fered by false accusations. There were little less than five thousand
who were convicted and sold for slaves; those who, enduring the
test, remained in the government and passed muster for true Athe-
nians were found upon the poll to be fourteen thousand and forty
persons in number.

PERICLES 75

It looked strange, that a law, which had been carried so far
against so many people, should be cancelled again by the same man
that made it; yet the present calamity and distress which Pericles
labored under in his family broke through all objections, and pre-
vailed with the Athenians to pity him, as one whose losses and
misfortunes had sufficiently punished his former arrogance and
haughtiness. His sufferings deserved, they thought, their pity, and
even indignation, and his request was such as became a man to ask
and men to grant; they gave him permission to enroll his son in the
register of his fraternity, giving him his own name. This son after-
ward, after having defeated the Peloponnesians at Arginusar, was,
with his fellow-generals, put to death by the people.

About the time when his son was enrolled, it should seem, the
plague seized Pericles, not with sharp and violent fits, as it did
others that had it, but with a dull and lingering distemper, attended
with various changes and alterations, leisurely, by little and little,
wasting the strength of his body, and undermining the noble facul-
ties of his soul. So that Theophrastus, in his Morals, when discussing
whether men's characters change with their circumstances, and
their moral habits, disturbed by the ailings of their bodies, start aside
from the rules of virtue, has left it upon record, that Pericles, when
he was sick, showed one of his friends that came to visit him, an
amulet or charm that the women had hung about his neck; as
much as to say, that he was very sick indeed when he would admit
of such a foolery as that was.

When he was now near his end, the best of the citizens and those
of his friends who were left alive, sitting about him, were speaking
of the greatness of his merit, and his power, and reckoning up his
famous actions and the number of his victories; for there were no
less than nine trophies, which, as their chief commander and con-
queror of their enemies, he had set up, for the honor of the city.
They talked thus together among themselves, as though he were
unable to understand or mind what they said, but had now lost his
consciousness. He had listened, however, all the while, and attended
to all, and speaking out among them, said, that he wondered they
should commend and take notice of things which were as much
owing to fortune as to any thing else, and had happened to many

j6 plutarch's lives

other commanders, and, at the same time, should not speak or make
mention of that which was the most excellent and greatest thing of
all. "For," said he, "no Athenian, through my means, ever wore
mourning."

He was indeed a character deserving our high admiration, not
only for his equitable and mild temper, which all along in the many
affairs of his life, and the great animosities which he incurred, he
constantly maintained; but also for the high spirit and feeling which
made him regard it the noblest of all his honors that, in the exercise
of such immense power, he never had gratified his envy or his pas-
sion, nor ever had treated any enemy as irreconcilably opposed to
him. And to me it appears that this one thing gives that otherwise
childish and arrogant title a fitting and becoming significance; so
dispassionate a temper, a life so pure and unblemished, in the height
of power and place, might well be called Olympian, in accordance
with our conceptions of the divine beings, to whom, as the natural
authors of all good and of nothing evil, we ascribe the rule and gov-
ernment of the world. Not as the poets represent, who, while con-
founding us with their ignorant fancies, are themselves confuted
by their own poems and fictions, and call the place, indeed, where
they say the gods make their abode, a secure and quiet seat, free
from all hazards and commotions, untroubled with winds or with
clouds, and equally through all time illumined with soft serenity
and a pure light, as though such were a home most agreeable for a
blessed and immortal nature; and yet, in the meanwhile, affirm
that the gods themselves are full of trouble and enmity and anger
and other passions, which no way become or belong to even men
that have any understanding. But this will, perhaps, seem a subject
fitter for some other consideration, and that ought to be treated of
in some other place.

The course of public affairs after his death produced a quick and
speedy sense of the loss of Pericles. Those who, while he lived, re-
sented his great authority, as that which eclipsed themselves, pres-
ently after his quitting the stage, making trial of other orators and
demagogues, readily acknowledged that there never had been in
nature such a disposition as his was, more moderate and reasonable
in the height of that state he took upon him, or more grave and

PERICLES 77

impressive in the mildness which he used. And that invidious,
arbitrary power, to which formerly they gave the name of monarchy
and tyranny, did then appear to have been the chief bulwark of
public safety; so great a corruption and such a flood of mischief and
vice followed, which he, by keeping weak and low, had withheld
from notice, and had prevented from attaining incurable height
through a licentious impunity.

ARISTIDES

ARISTIDES, the son of Lysimachus, was of the tribe Antiochis,
LJL and township of Alopece. As to his wealth, statements
A. JL. differ; some say he passed his life in extreme poverty, and
left behind him two daughters whose indigence long kept them un-
married: but Demetrius, the Phalerian, in opposition to this general
report, professes in his Socrates, to know a farm at Phalerum going
by Aristides's name, where he was interred; and, as marks of his
opulence, adduces first, the office of archon eponymus, which he
obtained by the lot of the bean; which was confined to the highest
assessed families, called the Pentacosiomedimni; second, the ostra-
cism, which was not usually inflicted on the poorer citizens, but on
those of great houses, whose station exposed them to envy; third
and last, that he left certain tripods in the temple of Bacchus, offer-
ings for his victory in conducting the representation of dramatic
performances, which were even in our age still to be seen, retaining
this inscription upon them, "The tribe Antiochis obtained the vic-
tory: Aristides defrayed the charges: Archestratus's play was acted."
But this argument, though in appearance the strongest, is of the
least moment of any. For Epaminondas, who all the world knows
was educated, and lived his whole life, in much poverty, and also
Plato, the philosopher, exhibited magnificent shows, the one an en-
tertainment of flute-players, the other of dithyrambic singers; Dion,
the Syracusan, supplying the expenses of the latter, and Pelopidas
those of Epaminondas. For good men do not allow themselves in
any inveterate and irreconcilable hostility to receiving presents from
their friends, but while looking upon those that are accepted to be
hoarded up and with avaricious intentions, as sordid and mean, they
do not refuse such as, apart from all profit, gratify the pure love of
honor and magnificence. Panaetius, again, shows that Demetrius was
deceived concerning the tripod by an identity of name. For, from

78

ARISTIDES 79

the Persian war to the end of the Peloponnesian, there are upon
record only two of the name of Aristides, who defrayed the expense
of representing plays and gained the prize, neither of which was the
same with the son of Lysimachus; but the father of the one was
Xenophilus, and the other lived at a much later time, as the way
of writing, which is that in use since the time of Eudides, and the
addition of the name of Archestratus prove, a name which, in the
time of the Persian war, no writer mentions, but which several, dur-
ing the Peloponnesian war, record as that of a dramatic poet. The
argument of Panactius requires to be more closely considered. But
as for the ostracism, every one was liable to it, whom his reputation,
birth, or eloquence raised above the common level; insomuch that
even Damon, preceptor to Pericles, was thus banished, because he
seemed a man of more than ordinary sense. And, moreover, Idome-
neus says, that Aristides was not made archon by the lot of the bean,
but the free election of the people. And if he held the office after
the batde of Plataea, as Demetrius himself has written, it is very
probable that his great reputation and success in the war, made him
be preferred for his virtue to an office which others received in con-
sideration of their wealth. But Demetrius manifesdy is eager not
only to exempt Aristides, but Socrates likewise, from poverty, as
from a great evil; telling us that the latter had not only a house of
his own, but also seventy minx put out at interest with Crito.

Aristides being the friend and supporter of that Clisthenes, who
setded the government after the expulsion of the tyrants, and emu-
lating and admiring Lycurgus the Lacedaemonian above all poli-
ticians, adhered to the aristocratical principles of government; and
had Themistocles, son of Neocles, his adversary on the side of the
populace. Some say that, being boys and bred up together from
their infancy, they were always at variance with each other in all
their words and actions as well serious as playful, and that in this
their early contention they soon made proof of their natural inclina-
tions; the one being ready, adventurous, and subtle, engaging readily
and eagerly in every thing; the other of a staid and settled temper,
intent on the exercise of justice, not admitting any degree of falsity,
indecorum, or trickery, no, not so much as at his play. Ariston of

8o plutarch's lives

Chios' says the first origin of the enmity which rose to so great a
height, was a love affair; they were rivals for the affection of the
beautiful Stesilaus of Ceos, and were passionate beyond all modera-
tion, and did not lay aside their animosity when the beauty that had
excited it passed away; but, as if it had only exercised them in it,
immediately carried their heats and differences into public busi-
ness.

Themistocles, therefore, joining an association of partisans, forti-
fied himself with considerable strength; insomuch that when some
one told him that were he impartial, he would make a good mag-
istrate; "I wish," replied he, "I may never sit on that tribunal
where my friends shall not plead a greater privilege than strangers."
But Aristides walked, so to say, alone on his own path in politics,
being unwilling, in the first place, to go along with his associates
in ill doing, or to cause them vexation by not gratifying their wishes;
and, secondly, observing that many were encouraged by the sup-
port they had in their friends to act injuriously, he was cautious;
being of opinion that the integrity of his words and actions was
the only right security for a good citizen.

However, Themistocles making many dangerous alterations, and
withstanding and interrupting him in the whole series of his actions,
Aristides also was necessitated to set himself against all Themistocles
did, partly in self-defence, and partly to impede his power from still
increasing by the favor of the multitude; esteeming it better to let
slip some public conveniences, rather than that he by prevailing
should become powerful in all things. In fine, when he once had
opposed Themistocles in some measures that were expedient, and
had got the better of him, he could not refrain from saying, when
he left the assembly, that unless they sent Themistocles and himself
to the barathrum, 2 there could be no safety for Athens. Another
time, when urging some proposal upon the people, though there
were much opposition and stirring against it, he yet was gaining

1 More correctly, perhaps, both here and elsewhere, Ariston of Ceos. There were
two philosophical writers of the name, Ariston of Chios, a stoic, and Ariston of Ceos,
a Peripatetic.

2 A pit into which the dead bodies of malefactors, or perhaps living malefactors
themselves, were thrown. "The gallows" perhaps is the English term most nearly
corresponding to the barathrum, as commonly spoken of in the Athenian popular
language.

ARISTIDES 8l

the day; but just as the president of the assembly was about to put
it to the vote, perceiving by what had been said in debate the inex-
pediency of his advice, he let it fall. Also he often brought in his bills
by other persons, lest Themistocles, through party spirit against
him, should be any hindrance to the good of the public.

In all the vicissitudes of public affairs, the constancy he showed
was admirable, not being elated with honors, and demeaning him-
self tranquilly and sedately in adversity; holding the opinion that
he ought to offer himself to the service of his country without mer-
cenary views and irrespectively of any reward, not only of riches,
but even of glory itself. Hence it came, probably, that at the recital
of these verses of iEschylus in the theatre, relating to Amphiaraus.

"For not at seeming just, but being so
He aims; and from his depth of soil below,
Harvests of wise and prudent counsels grow,"

the eyes of all the spectators turned on Aristides, as if this virtue,
in an especial manner, belonged to him.

He was a most determined champion for justice, not only against
feelings of friendship and favor, but wrath and malice. Thus it is
reported of him that when prosecuting the law against one who was
his enemy, on the judges after accusation refusing to hear the crimi-
nal, and proceeding immediately to pass sentence upon him, he rose
in haste from his seat and joined in petition with him for a hearing,
and that he might enjoy the privilege of the law. Another time,
when judging between two private persons, on the one declaring his
adversary had very much injured Aristides; "Tell me rather, good
friend," he said, "what wrong he has done you; for it is your cause,
not my own, which I now sit judge of." Being chosen to the charge
of the public revenue, he made it appear, that not only those of his
time, but the preceding officers, had alienated much treasure, and
especially Themistocles: —

"Well known he was an able man to be,
But with his fingers apt to be too free."

Therefore, Themistocles associating several persons against Aris-
tides, and impeaching him when he gave in his accounts, caused

82 plutarch's lives

him to be condemned of robbing the public; so Idomeneus states;
but the best and chiefest men of the city much resenting it, he was
not only exempted from the fine imposed upon him, but likewise
again called to the same employment. Pretending now to repent him
of his former practice, and carrying himself with more remissness, he
became acceptable to such as pillaged the treasury, by not detecting
or calling them to an exact account. So that those who had their
fill of the public money began highly to applaud Aristides, and sued
to the people, making interest to have him once more chosen treas-
urer. But when they were upon the point of election, he reproved
the Athenians. "When I discharged my office well and faithfully,"
said he, "I was insulted and abused; but now that I have allowed
the public thieves in a variety of malpractices, I am considered an
admirable patriot. I am more ashamed, therefore, of this present
honor than of the former sentence; and I commiserate your condi-
tion, with whom it is more praiseworthy to oblige ill men than to
conserve the revenue of the public." Saying thus, and proceeding to
expose the thefts that had been committed, he stopped the mouths
of those who cried him up and vouched for him, but gained real
and true commendation from the best men.

When Datis, being sent by Darius under pretence of punishing the
Athenians for their burning of Sardis, but in reality to reduce the
Greeks under his dominion, landed at Marathon and laid waste
the country, among the ten commanders appointed by the Athenians
for the war, Miltiades was of the greatest name; but the second
place, both for reputation and power, was possessed by Aristides:
and when his opinion to join battle was added to that of Miltiades,
it did much to incline the balance. Every leader by his day having
the command in chief, when it came to Aristides's turn, he deliv-
ered it into the hands of Miltiades, showing his fellow officers, that
it is not dishonorable to obey and follow wise and able men, but,
on the contrary, noble and prudent. So appeasing their rivalry, and
bringing them to acquiesce in one and the best advice, he confirmed
Miltiades in the strength of an undivided and unmolested authority.
For now every one, yielding his day of command, looked for orders
only to him. During the fight the main body of the Athenians
being the hardest put to it, the barbarians, for a long time, making

ARISTIDES 83

opposition there against the tribes Leontis and Antiochis, Themisto-
des and Aristides being ranged together, fought valiantly; the one
being of the tribe Leontis, the other of the Antiochis. But after they
had beaten the barbarians back to their ships, and perceived that
they sailed not for the isles, but were driven in by the force of sea
and wind towards the country of Attica; fearing lest they should
take the city, unprovided of defence, they hurried away thither with
nine tribes, and reached it the same day. Aristides, being left with
his tribe at Marathon to guard the plunder and prisoners, did not
disappoint the opinion they had of him. Amidst the profusion of
gold and silver, all sorts of apparel, and other property, more than
can be mentioned, that were in the tents and the vessels which they
had taken, he neither felt the desire to meddle with any thing him-
self, nor suffered others to do it; unless it might be some who took
away any thing unknown to him; as Callias, the torch-bearer, 3 did.
One of the barbarians, it seems, prostrated himself before this man,
supposing him to be a king by his hair and fillet; and, when he had
so done, taking him by the hand, showed him a great quantity of
gold hid in a ditch. But Callias, most cruel and impious of men,
took away the treasure, but slew the man, lest he should tell of him.
Hence, they say, the comic poets gave his family the name of Lacco-
pluti, or enriched by the ditch, alluding to the place where Callias
found the gold. Aristides, immediately after this, was archon; al-
though Demetrius, the Phalerian, says he held the office a litde
before he died, after the battle of Plata:a. But in the records of the
successors of Xanthippides, in whose year Mardonius was over-
thrown at Platxa, amongst very many there mentioned, there is
not so much as one of the same name as Aristides: while immedi-
ately after Phxnippus, during whose term of office they obtained the
victory of Marathon, Aristides is registered.

Of all his virtues, the common people were most affected with his
justice, because of its continual and common use; and thus, although
of mean fortune and ordinary birth, he possessed himself of the
most kingly and divine appellation of Just; which kings, however,
and tyrants have never sought after; but have taken delight to be
surnamed besiegers of cities, thunderers, conquerors, or eagles again,

'In the festivals of Eleusinian Ceres; an office hereditary in the family of Callias.

84 plutarch's lives

and hawks; 4 affecting, it seems, the reputation which proceeds from
power and violence, rather than that of virtue. Although the divin-
ity, to whom they desire to compare and assimilate themselves,
excels, it is supposed, in three things, immortality, power, and vir-
tue; of which three, the noblest and divinest is virtue. For the ele-
ments and vacuum have an everlasting existence; earthquakes,
thunders, storms, and torrents have great power; but in justice
and equity nothing participates except by means of reason and the
knowledge of that which is divine. And thus, taking the three vari-
eties of feeling commonly entertained towards the deity, the sense of
his happiness, fear, and honor of him, people would seem to think
him blest and happy for his exemption from death and corruption,
to fear and dread him for his power and dominion, but to love,
honor, and adore him for his justice. Yet though thus disposed, they
covet that immortality which our nature is not capable of, and that
power the greatest part of which is at the disposal of fortune; but
give virtue, the only divine good really in our reach, the last place,
most unwisely; since justice makes the life of such as are in pros-
perity, power, and authority the life of a god, and injustice turns it
to that of a beast.

Aristides, therefore, had at first the fortune to be beloved for this
surname, but at length envied. Especially when Themistocles spread
a rumor amongst the people, that, by determining and judging all
matters privately, he had destroyed the courts of judicature, and was
secretly making way for a monarchy in his own person, without the
assistance of guards. Moreover, the spirit of the people, now grown
high, and confident with their late victory, naturally entertained
feelings of dislike to all of more than common fame and reputation.
Coming together, therefore, from all parts into the city, they ban-
ished Aristides by the ostracism, giving their jealousy of his reputa-
tion the name of fear of tyranny. For ostracism was not the punish-
ment of any criminal act, but was speciously said to be the mere
depression and humiliation of excessive greatness and power; and
was in fact a gentle relief and mitigation of envious feeling, which
was thus allowed to vent itself in inflicting no intolerable injury,

* Demetrius Poliorcctes, or the besieger, Ptolemy Oraunus, or Thunder, and
Demetrius Nicator, the conqueror, are the probable examples alluded to; with Pyrrhus
who had the name of Aetus, the eagle, and Anuochus jurnamed Hierax, the hawk.

ARISTIDES 85

only a ten years' banishment. But after it came to be exercised upon
base and villainous fellows, they desisted from it; Hyperbolus, being
the last whom they banished by the ostracism.

The cause of Hyperbolus's banishment is said to have been this.
Alcibiades and Nicias, men that bore the greatest sway in the city,
were of different factions. As the people, therefore, were about to
vote the ostracism, and obviously to decree it against one of them,
consulting together and uniting their parties, they contrived the
banishment of Hyperbolus. Upon which the people, being offended,
as if some contempt or affront was put upon the thing, left off and
quite abolished it. It was performed, to be short, in this manner.
Every one taking an ostracon, a sherd, that is, or piece of earthen-
ware, wrote upon it the citizen's name he would have banished,
and carried it to a certain part of the market-place surrounded with
wooden rails. First, the magistrates numbered all the sherds in
gross (for if there were less than six thousand, the ostracism was im-
perfect); then, laying every name by itself, they pronounced him
whose name was written by the larger number, banished for ten
years, with the enjoyment of his estate. As, therefore, they were
writing the names on the sherds, it is reported that an illiterate
clownish fellow, giving Aristides his sherd, supposing him a com-
mon citizen, begged him to write Aristides upon it; and he being
surprised and asking if Aristides had ever done him any injury,
"None at all," said he, "neither know I the man; but I am tired of
hearing him everywhere called the Just." Aristides, hearing this, is
said to have made no reply, but returned the sherd with his own
name inscribed. At his departure from the city, lifting up his hands
to heaven, he made a prayer, (the reverse, it would seem, of that of
Achilles), that the Athenians might never have any occasion which
should constrain them to remember Aristides.

Nevertheless, three years after, when Xerxes marched through
Thessaly and Bceotia into the country of Attica, repealing the law,
they decreed the return of the banished; chiefly fearing Aristides,
lest, joining himself to the enemy, he should corrupt and bring over
many of his fellow-citizens to the party of the barbarians; much
mistaking the man, who, already before the decree, was exerting
himself to excite and encourage the Greeks to the defence of their

86 plutarch's lives

liberty. And afterwards, when Themistocles was general with abso-
lute power, he assisted him in all ways both in action and coun-
sel; rendering, in consideration of the common security, the greatest
enemy he had the most glorious of men. For when Eurybiades was
deliberating to desert the isle of Salamis, and the galleys of the bar-
barians putting out by night to sea surrounded and beset the narrow
passage and islands, and nobody was aware how they were en-
vironed, Aristides, with great hazard, sailed from /Egina through
the enemy's fleet; and coming by night to Themistocles's tent, and
calling him out by himself; "If we have any discretion," said he,
"Themistocles, laying aside at this time our vain and childish con-
tention, let us enter upon a safe and honorable dispute, vying with
each other for the preservation of Greece; you in the ruling and
commanding, I in the subservient and advising part; even, indeed,
as I now understand you to be alone adhering to the best advice, in
counselling without any delay to engage in the straits. And in this,
though our own party oppose, the enemy seems to assist you. For
the sea behind, and all around us, is covered with their fleet; so that
we are under a necessity of approving ourselves men of courage,
and fighting, whether we will or no; for there is no room left us
for flight." To which Themistocles answered, "I would not will-
ingly, Aristides, be overcome by you on this occasion; and shall
endeavor, in emulation of this good beginning, to outdo it in my
actions." Also relating to him the stratagem he had framed against
the barbarians, he entreated him to persuade Eurybiades and show
him, how it was impossible they should save themselves without
an engagement; as he was the more likely to be believed. Whence,
in the council of war, Cleocritus, the Corinthian, telling Themis-
tocles that Aristides did not like his advice, as he was present and
said nothing, Aristides answered, That he should not have held his
peace, if Themistocles had not been giving the best advice; and that
he was now silent not out of any good-will to the person, but in
approbation of his counsel.

Thus the Greek captains were employed. But Aristides perceiv-
ing Psyttalea, a small island that lies within the straits over against
Salamis, to be filled by a body of the enemy, put aboard his small
boats the most forward and courageous of his countrymen, and went

ARISTIDES 87

ashore upon it; and, joining battle with the barbarians, slew them
all, except such more remarkable persons as were taken alive.
Amongst these were three children of Sandauce, the king's sister,
whom he immediately sent away to Themistocles, and it is stated
that in accordance with a certain oracle, they were, by the command
of Euphrantides, the seer, sacrificed to Bacchus, called Omestes, or
the devourer. But Aristides, placing armed men all around the
island, lay in wait for such as were cast upon it, to the intent that
none of his friends should perish, nor any of his enemies escape.
For the closest engagement of the ships, and the main fury of the
whole batde, seems to have been about this place; for which reason
a trophy was erected in Psyttalea.

After the fight, Themistocles, to sound Aristides, told him they
had performed a good piece of service, but there was a better yet
to be done, the keeping Asia in Europe, by sailing forthwith to the
Hellespont, and cutting in sunder the bridge. But Aristides, with an
exclamation, bid him think no more of it, but deliberate and find out
means for removing the Mede, as quickly as possible, out of Greece;
lest being enclosed, through want of means to escape, necessity
should compel him to force his way with so great an army. So
Themistocles once more despatched Arnaces, the eunuch, his pris-
oner, giving him in command privately to advertise the king that
he had diverted the Greeks from their intention of setting sail for
the bridges, out of the desire he felt to preserve him.

Xerxes, being much terrified with this, immediately hasted to
the Hellespont. But Mardonius was left with the most serviceable
part of the army, about three hundred thousand men, and was a
formidable enemy, confident in his infantry, and writing messages
of defiance to the Greeks: "You have overcome by sea men accus-
tomed to fight on land, and unskilled at the oar; but there lies
now the open country of Thessaly; and the plains of Bceotia offer
a broad and worthy field for brave men, either horse or foot, to
contend in." But he sent privately to the Athenians, both by letter
and word of mouth from the king, promising to rebuild their city,
to give them a vast sum of money, and constitute them lords of all
Greece on condition they were not engaged in the war. The Lace-
daemonians, receiving news of this, and fearing, despatched an

88 plutarch's lives

embassy to the Athenians, entreating that they would send their
wives and children to Sparta, and receive support from them for
their superannuated. For, being despoiled both of their city and
country, the people were suffering extreme distress. Having given
audience to the ambassadors, they returned an answer, upon the
motion of Aristides, worthy of the highest admiration; declaring,
that they forgave their enemies if they thought all things purchas-
able by wealth, than which they knew nothing of greater value;
but that they felt offended at the Lacedaemonians, for looking only
to their present poverty and exigence, without any remembrance of
their valor and magnanimity, offering them their victuals, to fight
in the cause of Greece. Aristides, making this proposal and bring-
ing back the ambassadors into the assembly, charged them to tell
the Lacedaemonians, that all the treasure on the earth or under
it, was of less value with the people of Athens, than the liberty of
Greece. And, showing the sun to those who came from Mardonius,
"as long as that retains the same course, so long," said he, "shall
the citizens of Athens wage war with the Persians for the country
which has been wasted, and the temples that have been profaned
and burnt by them." Moreover, he proposed a decree, that the
priests should anathematize him who sent any herald to the Medes,
or deserted the alliance of Greece.

When Mardonius made a second incursion into the country of
Attica, the people passed over again into the isle of Salamis. Aris-
tides, being sent to Lacedxmon, reproved them for their delay and
neglect in abandoning Athens once more to the barbarians; and
demanded their assistance for that part of Greece which was not
yet lost. The Ephori, hearing this, made show of sporting all day,
and of carelessly keeping holy day, (for they were then celebrating
the Hyacinthian festival), but in the night, selecting five thousand
Spartans, each of whom was attended by seven Helots, they sent
them forth unknown to those from Athens. And when Aristides
again reprehended them, they told him in derision that he either
doted or dreamed, for the army was already at Oresteum, in their
march towards the strangers; as they called the Persians. Aristides
answered, that they jested unseasonably, deluding their friends, in-
stead of their enemies. Thus says Idomeneus. But in the decree of

ARISTIDES 89

Aristides, not himself, but Cimon, Xanthippus, and Myronides are
appointed ambassadors.

Being chosen general for the war, he repaired to Plataea, with
eight thousand Athenians, where Pausanias, generalissimo of all
Greece, joined him with the Spartans; and the forces of the other
Greeks came in to them. The whole encampment of the barbarians
extended all along the bank of the river Asopus, their numbers
being so great, there was no enclosing them all, but their baggage
and most valuable things were surrounded with a square bulwark,
each side of which was the length of ten furlongs.

Tisamenus, the Elean, had prophesied to Pausanias and all the
Greeks, and foretold them victory if they made no attempt upon
the enemy, but stood on their defence. But Aristides sending to
Delphi, the god answered, that the Athenians should overcome their
enemies, in case they made supplication to Jupiter and Juno of
Cithaeron, Pan, and the nymphs Sphragitides, and sacrificed to the
heroes Androcrates, Leucon, Pisander, Damocrates, Hypsion, Ac-
tion, and Polyidus; and if they fought within their own territories
in the plain of Ceres Eleusinia and Proserpine. Aristides was per-
plexed upon the tidings of this oracle: since the heroes to whom it
commanded him to sacrifice had been chieftains of the Plataeans,
and the cave of the nymphs Sphragitides was on the top of Mount
Cithaeron, on the side facing the setting sun of summer time; in
which place, as the story goes, there was formerly an oracle, and
many that lived in the district were inspired with it, whom they
called Nympholepti, possessed with the nymphs. But the plain of
Ceres Eleusinia, and the offer of victory to the Athenians, if they
fought in their own territories, recalled them again, and transferred
the war into the country of Attica. In this juncture, Arimnestus,
who commanded the Platseans, dreamed that Jupiter, the Saviour,
asked him what the Greeks had resolved upon; and that he an-
swered, "To-morrow, my Lord, we march our army to Eleusis,
and there give the barbarians battle according to the directions of
the oracle of Apollo." And that the god replied, they were utterly
mistaken, for that the places spoken of by the oracle were within the
bounds of Platxa, and if they sought there they should find them.
This manifest vision having appeared to Arimnestus, when he

90 PLUTARCH S LIVES

awoke he sent for the most aged and experienced of his country-
men, with whom communicating and examining the matter, he
found that near Hysia:, at the foot of Mount Cithjcron, there was a
very ancient temple called the temple of Ceres Eleusinia and Pro-
serpine. He therefore forthwith took Aristides to the place, which
was very convenient for drawing up an army of foot, because the
slopes at the bottom of the mountain Cithxron rendered the plain,
where it comes up to the temple, unfit for the movements of cavalry.
Also, in the same place, there was the fane of Androcrates, environed
with a thick shady grove. And that the oracle might be accom-
plished in all particulars for the hope of victory, Arimnestus pro-
posed, and the Platsans decreed, that the frontiers of their country
towards Attica should be removed, and the land given to the Atheni-
ans, that they might fight in defence of Greece in their own proper
territory. This zeal and liberality of the Platxans became so fa-
mous, that Alexander, many years after, when he had obtained the
dominion of all Asia, upon erecting the walls of Platsea, caused
proclamation to be made by the herald at the Olympic games, that
the king did the Platseans this favor in consideration of their noble-
ness and magnanimity, because, in the war with the Medes, they
freely gave up their land and zealously fought with the Greeks.
The Tegeatans, contesting the post of honor with the Athenians,
demanded, that, according to custom, the Lacedemonians being
ranged on the right wing of the battle, they might have the left,
alleging several matters in commendation of their ancestors. The
Athenians being indignant at the claim, Aristides came forward;
"To contend with the Tegeatans," said he, "for noble descent and
valor, the present time permits not: but this we say to you, O you
Spartans, and you the rest of the Greeks, that place neither takes
away nor contributes courage: we shall endeavor by crediting and
maintaining the post you assign us, to reflect no dishonor on our
former performances. For we are come, not to differ with our
friends, but to fight our enemies; not to extol our ancestors, but our-
selves to behave as valiant men. This battle will manifest how much
each city, captain, and private soldier is worth to Greece." The coun-
cil of war, upon this address, decided for the Athenians, and gave
them the other wing of the battle.

ARISTIDES 91

All Greece being in suspense, and especially the affairs of the
Athenians unsettled, certain persons of great families and posses-
sions having been impoverished by the war, and seeing all their
authority and reputation in the city vanished with their wealth, and
others in possession of their honors and places, convened privately
at a house in Platara, and conspired for the dissolution of the demo-
cratic government; and, if the plot should not succeed, to ruin the
cause and betray all to the barbarians. These matters being in agita-
tion in the camp, and many persons already corrupted, Aristides,
perceiving the design, and dreading the present juncture of time,
determined neither to let the business pass unanimadverted upon,
nor yet altogether to expose it; not knowing how many the accusa-
tion might reach, and willing to set bounds to his justice with a
view to the public convenience. Therefore, of many that were con-
cerned, he apprehended eight only, two of whom, who were first
proceeded against and most guilty, /Eschines of Lampra, and Agesias
of Acharnac, made their escape out of the camp. The rest he dis-
missed; giving opportunity to such as thought themselves concealed,
to take courage and repent; intimating that they had in the war a
great tribunal, where they might clear their guilt by manifesting
their sincere and good intentions towards their country.

After this, Mardonius made trial of the Grecian courage, by send-
ing his whole number of horse, in which he thought himself much
the stronger, against them, while they were all pitched at the foot
of Mount Citharron, in strong and rocky places, except the Megari-
ans. They, being three thousand in number, were encamped on the
plain, where they were damaged by the horse charging and making
inroads upon them on all hands. They sent, therefore, in haste to
Pausanias, demanding relief, as not being able alone to sustain the
great numbers of the barbarians. Pausanias, hearing this, and per-
ceiving the tents of the Megarians already hid by the multitude of
darts and arrows, and themselves driven together into a narrow
space, was at a loss himself how to aid them with his battalion of
heavy-armed Lacedaemonians. He proposed it, therefore, as a point
of emulation in valor and love of distinction, to the commanders
and captains who were around him, if any would voluntarily take
upon them the defence and succor of the Megarians. The rest being

92 PLUTARCH S LIVES

backward, Aristides undertook the enterprise for the Athenians,
and sent Olympiodorus, the most valiant of his inferior officers,
with three hundred chosen men and some archers under his com-
mand. These being soon in readiness, and running upon the enemy,
as soon as Masistius, who commanded the barbarians' horse, a man
of wonderful courage and of extraordinary bulk and comeliness of
person, perceived it, turning his steed he made towards them. And
they sustaining the shock and joining battle with him, there was a
sharp conflict, as though by this encounter they were to try the
success of the whole war. But after Masistius's horse received a
wound, and flung him, and he falling could hardly raise himself
through the weight of his armor, the Athenians, pressing upon him
with blows, could not easily get at his person, armed as he was, his
breast, his head, and his limbs all over, with gold and brass and iron;
but one of them at last, running him in at the visor of his helmet,
slew him; and the rest of the Persians, leaving the body, fled. The
greatness of the Greek success was known, not by the multitude of
the slain, (for an inconsiderable number were killed), but by the
sorrow the barbarians expressed. For they shaved themselves, their
horses, and mules for the death of Masistius, and filled the plain
with howling and lamentation; having lost a person, who, next to
Mardonius himself, was by many degrees the chief among them,
both for valor and authority.

After this skirmish of the horse, they kept from fighting a long
time; for the soothsayers, by the sacrifices, foretold the victory both
to Greeks and Persians, if they stood upon the defensive part only,
but if they became aggressors, the contrary. At length Mardonius,
when he had but a few days' provision, and the Greek forces in-
creased continually by some or other that came in to them, impatient
of delay, determined to lie still no longer, but, passing Asopus by
daybreak, to fall unexpectedly upon the Greeks; and signified the
same over night to the captains of his host. But about midnight, a
certain horseman stole into the Greek camp, and coming to the
watch, desired them to call Aristides, the Athenian, to him. He
coming speedily; "I am," said the stranger, "Alexander, king of the
Macedonians, and am arrived here through the greatest danger in
the world for the good-will I bear you, lest a sudden onset should

ARISTIDES 93

dismay you, so as to behave in the fight worse than usual. For
to-morrow Mardonius will give you battle, urged, not by any hope
of success or courage, but by want of victuals since, indeed, the
prophets prohibit him the battle, the sacrifices and oracles being un-
favorable; and the army is in despondency and consternation; but
necessity forces him to try his fortune, or sit still and endure the
last extremity of want." Alexander, thus saying, entreated Aristides
to take notice and remember him, but not to tell any other. But he
told him, it was not convenient to conceal the matter from Pausanias
(because he was general) ; as for any other, he would keep it secret
from them till the batde was fought; but if the Greeks obtained
the victory, that then no one should be ignorant of Alexander's good-
will and kindness towards them. After this, the king of the Mace-
donians rode back again, and Aristides went to Pausanias's tent and
told him; and they sent for the rest of the captains and gave orders
that the army should be in batde array.

Here, according to Herodotus, Pausanias spoke to Aristides, desir-
ing him to transfer the Athenians to the right wing of the army
opposite to the Persians, (as they would do better service against
them, having been experienced in their way of combat, and em-
boldened with former victories), and to give him the left, where the
Medizing Greeks were to make their assault. The rest of the
Athenian captains regarded this as an arrogant and interfering act
on the part of Pausanias; because, while permitting the rest of the
army to keep their stations, he removed them only from place to
place, like so many Helots, opposing them to the greatest strength
of the enemy. But Aristides said, they were altogether in the wrong.
If so short a time ago they contested the left wing with the Tege-
atans, and gloried in being preferred before them, now, when the
Lacedaemonians give them place in the right, and yield them in a
manner the leading of the army, how is it they are discontented with
the honor that is done them, and do not look upon it as an advan-
tage to have to fight, not against their countrymen and kindred, but
barbarians, and such as were by nature their enemies? After this,
the Athenians very readily changed places with the Lacedaemonians,
and there went words amongst them as they were encouraging each
other, that the enemy approached with no better arms or stouter

94 PLUTARCH S LIVES

hearts than those who fought the battle of Marathon; but had the
same bows and arrows, and the same embroidered coats and gold,
and the same delicate bodies and effeminate minds within; "while
we have the same weapons and bodies, and our courage augmented
by our victories; and fight not like others in defence of our country
only, but for the trophies of Salamis and Marathon; that they may
not be looked upon as due to Miltiades or fortune, but to the people
of Athens." Thus, therefore, were they making haste to change the
order of their battle. But the Thebans, understanding it by some
deserters, forthwith acquainted Mardonius; and he, either for fear
of the Athenians, or a desire to engage the Lacedaemonians, marched
over his Persians to the other wing, and commanded the Greeks of
his party to be posted opposite to the Athenians. But this change
was observed on the other side, and Pausanias, wheeling about again,
ranged himself on the right, and Mardonius, also at first, took the
left wing over against the Lacedaemonians. So the day passed with-
out action.

After this, the Greeks determined in council to remove their
camp some distance, to possess themselves of a place convenient for
watering; because the springs near them were polluted and de-
stroyed by the barbarian cavalry. But night being come, and the
captains setting out towards the place designed for their encamping,
the soldiers were not very ready to follow, and keep in a body, but,
as soon as they had quitted their first entrenchments, made towards
the city of Platara; and there was much tumult and disorder as they
dispersed to various quarters and proceeded to pitch their tents. The
Lacedaemonians, against their will, had the fortune to be left by the
rest. For Amompharetus, a brave and daring man, who had long
been burning with desire of the fight, and resented their many
lingerings and delays, calling the removal of the camp a mere run-
ning away and flight, protested he would not desert his post, but
would there remain with his company, and sustain the charge of
Mardonius. And when Pausanias came to him and told him he did
these things by the common vote and determination of the Greeks,
Amompharetus taking up a great stone and flinging it at Pausanias's
feet, and "by this token," said he, "do I give my suffrage for the
battle, nor have I any concern with the cowardly consultations and

ARISTIDES 95

decrees o£ other men." Pausanias, not knowing what to do in the
present juncture, sent to the Athenians, who were drawing off, to
stay to accompany him; and so he himself set off with the rest of
the army for Plataea, hoping thus to make Amompharetus move.

Meantime, day came upon them; and Mardonius (for he was not
ignorant of their deserting their camp) having his army in array,
fell upon the Lacedaemonians with great shouting and noise of
barbarous people, as if they were not about to join battle, but crush
the Greeks in their flight. Which within a very little came to pass.
For Pausanias, perceiving what was done, made a halt, and com-
manded every one to put themselves in order for the batde; but
either through his anger with Amompharetus, or the disturbance he
was in by reason of the sudden approach of the enemy, he forgot
to give the signal to the Greeks in general. Whence it was, that
they did not come in immediately, or in a body,to their assistance,
but by small companies and straggling, when the fight was already
begun. Pausanias, offering sacrifice, could not procure favorable
omens, and so commanded the Lacedaemonians, setting down their
shields at their feet to abide quietly and attend his directions, mak-
ing no resistance to any of their enemies. And, he sacrificing again
a second time, the horse charged, and some of the Lacedaemonians
were wounded. At this time, also, Callicrates, who, we are told,
was the most comely man in the army, being shot with an arrow
and upon the point of expiring, said, that he lamented not his death
(for he came from home to lay down his life in the defence of
Greece) but that he died without action. The case was indeed hard,
and the forbearance of the men wonderful; for they let the enemy
charge without repelling them; and, expecting their proper oppor-
tunity from the gods and their general, suffered themselves to be
wounded and slain in their ranks. And some say, that while Pau-
sanias was at sacrifice and prayers, some space out of the battle-
array, certain Lydians, falling suddenly upon him, plundered and
scattered the sacrifice; and that Pausanias and his company, having
no arms, beat them with staves and whips; and that in imitation
of this attack, the whipping the boys about the altar, and after it
the Lydian procession, are to this day practised in Sparta.

Pausanias, therefore, being troubled at these things, while the

g/6 plutarch's lives

priest went on offering one sacrifice after another, turns himself
towards the temple with tears in his eyes, and, lifting up his hands
to heaven, besought Juno of Cithaeron, and the other tutelar gods
of the Plataeans, if it were not in the fates for the Greeks to obtain
the victory, that they might not perish, without performing some
remarkable thing, and by their actions demonstrating to their ene-
mies, that they waged war with men of courage, and soldiers.
While Pausanias was thus in the act of supplication, the sacrifices
appeared propitious, and the soothsayers foretold victory. The word
being given, the Lacedaemonian battalion of foot seemed, on the
sudden, like some one fierce animal, setting up his bristles, and
betaking himself to the combat; and the barbarians perceived that
they encountered with men who would fight it to the death. There-
fore, holding their wicker-shields before them, they shot their ar-
rows amongst the Lacedaemonians. But they, keeping together in
the order of a phalanx, and falling upon the enemies, forced their
shields out of their hands, and, striking with their pikes at the
breasts and faces of the Persians, overthrew many of them; who,
however, fell not either unrevenged or without courage. For taking
hold of the spears with their bare hands, they broke many of them,
and betook themselves not without effect to the sword; and making
use of their falchions and scimitars, and wresting the Lacedaemo-
nians' shields from them, and grappling with them, it was a long
time that they made resistance.

Meanwhile, for some time, the Athenians stood still, waiting for
the Lacedaemonians to come up. But when they heard much noise
as of men engaged in fight, and a messenger, they say, came from
Pausanias, to advertise them of what was going on, they soon
hasted to their assistance. And as they passed through the plain
to the place where the noise was, the Greeks, who took part with
the enemy, came upon them. Aristides, as soon as he saw them,
going a considerable space before the rest, cried out to them, con-
juring them by the guardian gods of Greece to forbear the fight, and
be no impediment or stop to those, who were going to succor the
defenders of Greece. But when he perceived they gave no attention
to him, and had prepared themselves for the battle, then turning
from the present relief of the Lacedaemonians, he engaged them,

ARISTIDES 97

being five thousand in number. But the greatest part soon gave way
and retreated, as the barbarians also were put to flight. The sharp-
est conflict is said to have been against the Thebans, the chiefest
and most powerful persons among them at that time siding zeal-
ously with the Medes, and leading the multitude not according to
their own inclinations, but as being subjects of an oligarchy.

The batde being thus divided, the Lacedaemonians first beat off
the Persians; and a Spartan, named Arimnestus, slew Mardonius
by a blow on the head with a stone, as the oracle in the temple of
Amphiaraus had foretold to him. For Mardonius sent a Lydian
thither, and another person, a Carian, to the cave of Trophonius.
This latter, the priest of the oracle answered in his own language.
But the Lydian sleeping in the temple of Amphiaraus, it seemed
to him that a minister of the divinity stood before him and com-
manded him to be gone; and on his refusing to do it, flung a
great stone at his head, so that he thought himself slain with the
blow. Such is the story. — They drove the fliers within their walls
of wood; and, a little time after, the Athenians put the Thebans to
flight, killing three hundred of the chiefest and of greatest note
among them in the actual fight itself. For when they began to fly,
news came that the army of the barbarians was besieged within
their palisade: and so giving the Greeks opportunity to save them-
selves, they marched to assist at the fortifications; and coming in
to the Lacedxmonians, who were altogether unhandy and unex-
perienced in storming, they took the camp with great slaughter of
the enemy. For of three hundred thousand, forty thousand only are
said to have escaped with Artabazus; while on the Greeks' side
there perished in all thirteen hundred and sixty: of which fifty-two
were Athenians, all of the tribe Mantis, that fought, says Clidemus,
with the greatest courage of any; and for this reason the men of this
tribe used to offer sacrifice for the victory, as enjoined by the oracle,
to the nymphs Sphragitides at the expense of the public: ninety-one
were Lacedaemonians, and sixteen Tegeatans. It is strange, there-
fore, upon what grounds Herodotus can say, that they only, and
none other, encountered the enemy; for the number of the slain
and their monuments testify that the victory was obtained by all in
general; and if the rest had been standing still, while the inhabi-

98 plutarch's lives

tants of three cities only had been engaged in the fight, they would
not have set on the altar the inscription: —

"The Greeks, when by their courage and their might,
They had repelled the Persian in the fight,
The common altar of freed Greece to be,
Reared this to Jupiter who guards the free."

They fought this battle on the fourth day of the month Boedromion,
according to the Athenians, but according to the Boeotians, on the
twenty-seventh of Panemus; — on which day there is still a conven-
tion of the Greeks at Plata:a, and the Plataeans still offer sacrifice
for the victory to Jupiter of freedom. As for the difference of days,
it is not to be wondered at, since even at the present time, when
there is a far more accurate knowledge of astronomy, some begin
the month at one time, and some at another.

After this, the Athenians not yielding the honor of the day to the
Lacedaemonians, nor consenting they should erect a trophy, things
were not far from being ruined by dissension amongst the armed
Greeks; had not Aristides, by much soothing and counselling the
commanders, especially Leocrates and Myronides, pacified and per-
suaded them to leave the thing to the decision of the Greeks. And
on their proceeding to discuss the matter, Theogiton, the Megarian,
declared the honor of the victory was to be given some other city, if
they would prevent a civil war; after him Cleocritus of Corinth
rising up, made people think he would ask the palm for the Cor-
inthians, (for next to Sparta and Athens, Corinth was in greatest
estimation); but he delivered his opinion, to the general admira-
tion, in favor of the Platarans; and counselled to take away all
contention by giving them the reward and glory of the victory,
whose being honored could be distasteful to neither party. This
being said, first Aristides gave consent in the name of the Athe-
nians, and Pausanias, then, for the Lacedaemonians. So, being recon-
ciled, they set apart eighty talents for the Plataeans, with which they
built the temple and dedicated the image to Minerva, and adorned
the temple with pictures, which even to this day retain their lustre.
But the Lacedaemonians and Athenians, each erected a trophy apart
by themselves. On their consulting the oracle about offering sacri-
fice, Apollo answered, that they should dedicate an altar to Jupiter

ARISTIDES 99

of freedom, but should not sacrifice till they had extinguished the
fires throughout the country, as having been defiled by the bar-
barians, and had kindled unpolluted fire at the common altar at
Delphi. The magistrates of Greece, therefore, went forthwith and
compelled such as had fire to put it out; and Euchidas, a Plataean,
promising to fetch fire, with all possible speed, from the altar of
the god, went to Delphi, and having sprinkled and purified his
body, crowned himself with laurel; and taking the fire from the
altar ran back to Platxa, and got back there before sunset, perform-
ing in one day a journey of a thousand furlongs; and saluting his
fellow-citizens and delivering them the fire, he immediately fell
down, and in a short time after expired. But the Platacans, taking
him up, interred him in the temple of Diana Euclia, setting this
inscription over him: "Euchidas ran to Delphi and back again in
one day." Most people believe that Euclia is Diana, and call her
by that name. But some say she was the daughter of Hercules, by
Myrto, the daughter of Mencetius, and sister of Patroclus, and,
dying a virgin, was worshipped by the Boeotians and Locrians. Her
altar and image are set up in all their market-places, and those of
both sexes that are about marrying, sacrificed to her before the
nuptials.

A general assembly of all the Greeks being called, Aristides pro-
posed a decree, that the deputies and religious representatives of the
Greek states should assemble annually at Platxa, and every fifth
year celebrate the Eleutheria, or games of freedom. And that there
should be a levy upon all Greece, for the war against the bar-
barians, of ten thousand spearmen, one thousand horse, and a hun-
dred sail of ships; but the Platasans to be exempt, and sacred to the
service of the gods, offering sacrifice for the welfare of Greece.
These things being ratified, the Platseans undertook the perform-
ance of annual sacrifice to such as were slain and buried in that
place; which they still perform in the following manner. On the
sixteenth day of Msemacterion (which with the Boeotians is Alal-
comenus) they make their procession, which, beginning by break
of day, is led by a trumpeter sounding for onset; then follow certain
chariots loaded with myrrh and garlands; and then a black bull;
then come the young men of free birth carrying libations of wine

IOO PLUTARCH S LIVFS

and milk in large two-handed vessels, and jars of oil and precious
ointments, none of servile condition being permitted to have any
hand in this ministration, because the men died in defence of free-
dom; after all comes the chief magistrate of Plataea, (for whom it
is unlawful at other times either to touch iron, or wear any other
colored garment but white), at that time apparelled in a purple
robe; and, taking a water-pot out of the city record-office, he pro-
ceeds, bearing a sword in his hand, through the middle of the town
to the sepulchres. Then drawing water out of a spring, he washes
and anoints the monuments, and sacrificing the bull upon a pile
of wood, and making supplication to Jupiter and Mercury of the
earth, invites those valiant men who perished in the defence of
Greece, to the banquet and the libations of blood. After this, mixing
a bowl of wine, and pouring out for himself, he says, "I drink to
those who lost their lives for the liberty of Greece." These solem-
nities the Platxans observe to this day.

Aristides perceived that the Athenians, after their return into the
city, were eager for a democracy; and deeming the people to de-
serve consideration on account of their valiant behavior, as also that
it was a matter of difficulty, they being well armed, powerful, and
full of spirit with their victories, to oppose them by force, he brought
forward a decree, that every one might share in the government,
and the archons be chosen out of the whole body of the Athenians.
And on Themistocles telling the people in assembly that he had
some advice for them, which could not be given in public, but was
most important for the advantage and security of the city, they ap-
pointed Aristides alone to hear and consider it with him. And on
his acquainting Aristides that his intent was to set fire to the
arsenal of the Greeks, for by that means should the Athenians be-
come supreme masters of all Greece, Aristides, returning to the
assembly, told them, that nothing was more advantageous than
what Themistocles designed, and nothing more unjust. The Athe-
nians, hearing this, gave Themistocles order to desist; such was the
love of justice felt by the people, and such the credit and confidence
they reposed in Aristides.

Being sent in joint commission with Cimon to the war, he took
notice that Pausanias and the other Spartan captains made them-

ARISTIDES 101

selves offensive by imperiousness and harshness to the confederates;
and by being himself gentle and considerate with them and by the
courtesy and disinterested temper which Cimon after his example,
manifested in the expeditions, he stole away the chief command
from the Lacedaemonians, neither by weapons, ships, or horses, but
by equity and wise policy. For the Athenians being endeared to
the Greeks by the justice of Aristides and by Cimon's moderation,
the tyranny and selfishness of Pausanias rendered them yet more
desirable. He on all occasions treated the commanders of the con-
federates haughtily and roughly; and the common soldiers he pun-
ished with stripes, or standing under the iron anchor for a whole
day together; neither was it permitted for any to provide straw for
themselves to lie on, or forage for their horses, or to come near the
springs to water before the Spartans were furnished, but servants
with whips drove away such as approached. And when Aristides
once was about to complain and expostulate with Pausanias, he told
him, with an angry look, that he was not at leisure, and gave no
attention to him. The consequence was that the sea captains and
generals of the Greeks, in particular, the Chians, Samians, and Les-
bians, came to Aristides and requested him to be their general, and
to receive the confederates into his command, who had long de-
sired to relinquish the Spartans and come over to the Athenians.
But he answered, that he saw both equity and necessity in what
they said, but their fidelity required the test of some action, the com-
mission of which would make it impossible for the multitude to
change their minds again. Upon which Uliades, the Samian, and
Antagoras of Chios, conspiring together, ran in near Byzantium
on Pausanias's galley, getting her between them as she was sailing
before the rest. But when Pausanias, beholding them, rose up and
furiously threatened soon to make them know that they had been
endangering not his galley, but their own countries, they bid him
go his way, and thank Fortune that fought for him at Plataea; for
hitherto, in reverence to that, the Greeks had forborne from in-
flicting on him the punishment he deserved. In fine, they all went
off and joined the Athenians. And here the magnanimity of the
Lacedaemonians was wonderful. For when they perceived that
their generals were becoming corrupted by the greatness of their

102 PLUTARCH S LIVES

authority, they voluntarily laid down the chief command, and left off
sending any more of them to the wars, choosing rather to have citi-
zens of moderation and consistent in the observance of their cus-
toms, than to possess the dominion of all Greece.

Even during the command of the Lacedaemonians, the Greeks
paid a certain contribution towards the maintenance of the war;
and being desirous to be rated city by city in their due proportion,
they desired Aristides of the Athenians, and gave him command,
surveying the country and revenue, to assess every one according to
their ability and what they were worth. But he, being so largely
empowered, Greece as it were submitting all her affairs to his sole
management, went out poor, and returned poorer; laying the tax
not only without corruption and injustice, but to the satisfaction and
convenience of all. For as the ancients celebrated the age of Saturn,
so did the confederates of Athens Aristides's taxation, terming it
the happy time of Greece; and that more especially, as the sum
was in a short time doubled, and afterwards trebled. For the assess-
ment which Aristides made, was four hundred and sixty talents.
But to this Pericles added very near one third part more; for
Thucydides says, that in the beginning of the Peloponnesian war,
the Athenians had coming in from their confederates six hundred
talents. But after Pericles's death, the demagogues, increasing by
little and little, raised it to the sum of thirteen hundred talents; not
so much through the war's being so expensive and chargeable either
by its length or ill success, as by their alluring the people to spend
upon largesses and play-houses allowances, and in erecting statues
and temples. Aristides, therefore, having acquired a wonderful and
great reputation by this levy of the tribute, Themistocles is said to
have derided him, as if this had been not the commendation of a
man, but a money-bag; a retaliation, though not in the same kind,
for some free words which Aristides had used. For he, when The-
mistocles once was saying that he thought the highest virtue of a
general was to understand and foreknow the measures the enemy
would take, replied, "This, indeed, Themistocles, is simply neces-
sary, but the excellent thing in a general is to keep his hands from
taking money."

Aristides, moreover, made all the people of Greece swear to keep

ARISTIDES 103

the league, and himself took the oath in the name of the Athenians,
flinging wedges of redhot iron into the sea, after curses against
such as should make breach of their vow. But afterwards, it would
seem, when things were in such a state as constrained them to
govern with a stronger hand, he bade the Athenians to throw the
perjury upon him, and manage affairs as convenience required.
And, in general, Theophrastus tells us, that Aristides was, in his
own private affairs, and those of his fellow-citizens, rigorously just,
but that in public matters he acted often in accordance with his
country's policy, which demanded, sometimes, not a little injustice.
It is reported of him that he said in a debate, upon the motion of
the Samians for removing the treasure from Delos to Athens, con-
trary to the league, that the thing indeed was not just, but was
expedient.

In fine, having established the dominion of his city over so many
people, he himself remained indigent; and always delighted as
much in the glory of being poor, as in that of his trophies; as is
evident from the following story. Callias, the torchbearer, was re-
lated to him: and was prosecuted by his enemies in a capital cause,
in which, after they had slightly argued the matters on which they
indicted him, they proceeded, beside the point, to address the judges:
"You know," said they, "Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, who is
the admiration of all Greece. In what a condition do you think his
family is in at his house, when you see him appear in public in such
a threadbare cloak? Is it not probable that one who, out of doors,
goes thus exposed to the cold, must want food and other necessaries
at home? Callias, the wealthiest of the Athenians, does nothing to
relieve either him or his wife and children in their poverty, though
he is his own cousin, and has made use of him in many cases,
and often reaped advantage by his interest with you." But Callias,
perceiving the judges were moved more particularly by this, and
were exasperated against him, called in Aristides, requiring him to
testify that when he frequently offered him divers presents, and en-
treated him to accept them, he had refused, answering, that it be-
came him better to be proud of his poverty than Callias of his
wealth: since there are many to be seen that make a good, or a bad
use of riches, but it is difficult, comparatively, to meet with one who

104 PLUTARCH S LIVES

supports poverty in a noble spirit; those only should be ashamed of
it who incurred it against their wills. On Aristides deposing these
facts in favor of Callias, there was none who heard them, that went
not away desirous rather to be poor like Aristides, than rich as
Callias. Thus ^Eschines, the scholar of Socrates, writes. But Plato
declares, that of all the great and renowned men in the city of
Athens, he was the only one worthy of consideration; for Themis-
tocles, Cimon, and Pericles filled the city with porticoes, treasure,
and many other vain things, but Aristides guided his public life by
the rule of justice. He showed his moderation very plainly in his
conduct towards Themistocles himself. For though Themistocles
had been his adversary in all his undertakings, and was the cause
of his banishment, yet when he afforded a similar opportunity of
revenge, being accused to the city, Aristides bore him no malice;
but while Alcmxon, Cimon, and many others, were prosecuting and
impeaching him, Aristides alone, neither did, nor said any ill
against him, and no more triumphed over his enemy in his adver-
sity, than he had envied him his prosperity.

Some say Aristides died in Pontus, during a voyage upon the
affairs of the public. Others that he died of old age at Athens, being
in great honor and veneration amongst his fellow-citizens. But
Craterus, the Macedonian, relates his death as follows. After the
banishment of Themistocles, he says, the people growing insolent,
there sprung up a number of false and frivolous accusers, impeach-
ing the best and most influential men and exposing them to the
envy of the multitude, whom their good fortune and power had
filled with self-conceit. Amongst these, Aristides was condemned
of bribery, upon the accusation of Diophantus of Amphitrope, for
taking money from the Ionians when he was collector of the tribute;
and being unable to pay the fine, which was fifty minx, sailed to
Ionia, and died there. But of this Craterus brings no written proof,
neither the sentence of his condemnation, nor the decree of the
people; though in general it is tolerably usual with him to set down
such things and to cite his authors. Almost all others who have
spoken of the misdeeds of the people towards their generals, collect
them all together, and tell us of the banishment of Themistocles,
Miltiades's bonds, Pericles's fine, and the death of Paches in the

ARISTIDES IO5

judgment hall, who, upon receiving sentence, killed himself on the
hustings, with many things of the like nature. They add the ban-
ishment of Aristides; but of this his condemnation, they make no
mention.

Moreover, his monument is to be seen at Phalerum, which they
say was built him by the city, he not having left enough even to
defray funeral charges. And it is stated, that his two daughters
were publicly married out of the prytaneum, or state-house, by the
city, which decreed each of them three thousand drachmas for her
portion; and that upon his son Lysimachus, the people bestowed a
hundred minas of money, and as many acres of planted land, and
ordered him besides, upon the motion of Alcibiades, four drachmas
a day. Furthermore, Lysimachus leaving a daughter, named Poly-
crite, as Callisthenes says, the people voted her, also, the same allow-
ance for food with those that obtained the victory in the Olympic
Games. But Demetrius the Phalerian, Hieronymus the Rhodian,
Aristoxenus the musician, and Aristotle, (if the Treatise of No-
bility is to be reckoned among the genuine pieces of Aristode), say
that Myrto, Aristides's granddaughter, lived with Socrates the phil-
osopher, who indeed had another wife, but took her into his house,
being a widow, by reason of her indigence, and want of the necessa-
ries of life. But Panauius sufficiently confutes this in his books con-
cerning Socrates. Demetrius the Phalerian, in his Socrates, says
he knew one Lysimachus, son to the daughter of Aristides, ex-
tremely poor, who used to sit near what is called the Iaccheum, and
sustained himself by a table for interpreting dreams and that, upon
his proposal and representations, a decree was passed by the people,
to give the mother and aunt of this man half a drachma a day. The
same Demetrius, when he was legislating himself, decreed each of
these women a drachma per diem. And it is not to be wondered
at, that the people of Athens should take such care of people living
in the city, since hearing the granddaughter of Aristogiton was in
a low condition in the isle of Lemnos, and so poor nobody would
marry her, they brought her back to Athens, and, marrying her to
a man of good birth, gave a farm at Potamus as her marriage-
portion; and of similar humanity and bounty the city of Athens,
even in our age, has given numerous proofs, and is justly admired
and respected in consequence.

ALCIBIADES

ALCIBIADES, as it is supposed, was anciently descended from
L-\ Eurysaces, the son of Ajax, by his father's side; and by his
■a. A. mother's side from Alcmaron. Dinomache, his mother, was
the daughter of Megacles. His father, Clinias, having fitted out a
galley at his own expense, gained great honor in the sea-fight at
Artemisium, and was afterwards slain in the battle of Coronea,
fighting against the Boeotians. Pericles and Ariphron, the sons of
Xanthippus, nearly related to him, became the guardians of Alci-
biades. It has been said not untruly that the friendship which Soc-
rates felt for him has much contributed to his fame; and certain it
is, that, though we have no account from any writer concerning the
mother of Nicias or Demosthenes, of Lamachus or Phormion, of
Thrasybulus or Theramenes, notwithstanding these were all illus-
trious men of the same period, yet we know even the nurse of Alci-
biades, that her country was Lacedimon, and her name Amyda;
and that Zopyrus was his teacher and attendant; the one being
recorded by Antisthenes, and the other by Plato.

It is not, perhaps, material to say any thing of the beauty of
Alcibiades, only that it bloomed with him in all the ages of his life,
in his infancy, in his youth, and in his manhood; and, in the pe-
culiar character becoming to each of these periods, gave him, in
every one of them, a grace and a charm. What Euripides says, that

"Of all fair things the autumn, too, is fair,"

is by no means universally true. But it happened so with Alcibiades,
amongst few others, by reason of his happy constitution and natural
vigor of body. It is said that his lisping, when he spoke, became
him well, and gave a grace and persuasiveness to his rapid speech.
Aristophanes takes notice of it in the verses in which he jests at

1 06

ALCIBIADES 107

Theorus; "How like a colax he is," says Alcibiades, meaning a
corax, 1 on which it is remarked,

"How very happily he lisped the truth."

Archippus also alludes to it in a passage where he ridicules the son
of Alcibiades;

"That people may believe him like his father,
He walks like one dissolved in luxury,
Lets his robe trail behind him on the ground,
Carelessly leans his head, and in his talk
Affects to lisp."

His conduct displayed many great inconsistencies and variations,
not unnaturally, in accordance with the many and wonderful vicis-
situdes of his fortunes; but among the many strong passions of his
real character, the one most prevailing of all, was his ambition and
desire of superiority, which appears in several anecdotes told of his
sayings whilst he was a child. Once being hard pressed in wrestling,
and fearing to be thrown, he got the hand of his antagonist to his
mouth, and bit it with all his force; and when the other loosed his
hold presently, and said, "You bite, Alcibiades, like a woman."
"No," replied he, "like a lion." Another time as he played at dice
in the street, being then but a child, a loaded cart came that way,
when it was his turn to throw; at first he called to the driver to
stop, because he was to throw in the way over which the cart was
to pass; but the man giving him no attention and driving on, when
the rest of the boys divided and gave way, Alcibiades threw him-
self on his face before the cart, and, stretching himself out, bade
the carter pass on now if he would; which so startled the man, that
he put back his horses, while all that saw it were terrified, and,
crying out, ran to assist Alcibiades. When he began to study, he
obeyed all his other masters fairly well, but refused to learn upon
the flute, as a sordid thing, and not becoming a free citizen; saying,
that to play on the lute or the harp does not in any way disfigure a
man's body or face, but one is hardly to be known by the most inti-
mate friends, when playing on the flute. Besides, one who plays on

1 This fashionable Attic lisp, or slovenly articulation, turned the sound r into /.
Colax, a flatterer; Corax, a crow.

108 plutarch's lives

the harp may speak or sing at the same time; but the use of the flute
stops the mouth, intercepts the voice, and prevents all articulation.
"Therefore," said he, "let the Theban youths pipe, who do not know
how to speak, but we Athenians, as our ancestors have told us,
have Minerva for our patroness, and Apollo for our protector, one
of whom threw away the flute, and the other stripped the Flute-
player of his skin." Thus, between raillery and good earnest, Alci-
biades kept not only himself but others from learning, as it pres-
ently became the talk of the young boys, how Alcibiades despised
playing on the flute, and ridiculed those who studied it. In conse-
quence of which, it ceased to be reckoned amongst the liberal accom-
plishments, and became generally neglected.

It is stated in the invective which Antiphon wrote against Alci-
biades, that once, when he was a boy, he ran away to the house of
Democrates, one of those who made a favorite of him, and that
Ariphron had determined to cause proclamation to be made for
him, had not Pericles diverted him from it, by saying, that if he
were dead, the proclaiming of him could only cause it to be discov-
ered one day sooner, and if he were safe, it would be a reproach to
him as long as he lived. Antiphon also says, that he killed one of
his own servants with the blow of a staff in Sibyrtius's wrestling
ground. But it is unreasonable to give credit to all that is objected
by an enemy, who makes open profession of his design to defame
him.

It was manifest that the many well-born persons who were con-
tinually seeking his company, and making their court to him, were
attracted and captivated by his brilliant and extraordinary beauty
only. But the affection which Socrates entertained for him is a
great evidence of the natural noble qualities and good disposition
of the boy, which Socrates, indeed, detected both in and under his
personal beauty; and, fearing that his wealth and station, and the
great number both of strangers and Athenians who flattered and
caressed him, might at last corrupt him, resolved, if possible, to in-
terpose, and preserve so hopeful a plant from perishing in the
flower, before its fruit came to perfection. For never did fortune
surround and enclose a man with so many of those things which
we vulgarly call goods, or so protect him from every weapon of

ALCIBIADES IO9

philosophy, and fence him from every access of free and searching
words, as she did Alcibiades; who, from the beginning, was exposed
to the flatteries of those who sought merely his gratification, such
as might well unnerve him, and indispose him to listen to any real
adviser or instructor. Yet such was the happiness of his genius,
that he discerned Socrates from the rest, and admitted him, whilst
he drove away the wealthy and the noble who made court to him.
And, in a little time, they grew intimate, and Alcibiades, listening
now to language entirely free from every thought of unmanly fond-
ness and silly displays of affection, finding himself with one who
sought to lay open to him the deficiencies of his mind, and repress
his vain and foolish arrogance,

"Dropped like the craven cock his conquered wing."

He esteemed these endeavors of Socrates as most truly a means
which the gods made use of for the care and preservation of youth, 2
and began to think meanly of himself, and to admire him; to be
pleased with his kindness, and to stand in awe of his virtue; and,
unawares to himself, there became formed in his mind that reflex
image and reciprocation of Love, or Anteros, 3 that Plato talks of.
It was a matter of general wonder, when people saw him joining
Socrates in his meals and his exercises, living with him in the same
tent, whilst he was reserved and rough to all others who made their
addresses to him, and acted, indeed, with great insolence to some
of them. As in particular to Anytus, the son of Anthemion, one
who was very fond of him, and invited him to an entertainment
which he had prepared for some strangers. Alcibiades refused the
invitation; but, having drunk to excess at his own house with some
of his companions, went thither with them to play some frolic;
and, standing at the door of the room where the guests were en-
joying themselves, and seeing the tables covered with gold and
silver cups, he commanded his servants to take away the one half
of them, and carry them to his own house; and then, disdaining so
much as to enter into the room himself, as soon as he had done this,
went away. The company was indignant, and exclaimed at his

1 In allusion to the philosophical theory which he quoted in the life of Theseus, that
love is a divine provision for the care of the young.

' Eros and Anteros, Love and Love-again.

110 PLUTARCH S LIVES

rude and insulting conduct; Anytus, however, said, on the con-
trary he had shown great consideration and tenderness in taking
only a part, when he might have taken all.

He behaved in the same manner to all others who courted him,
except only one stranger, who, as the story is told, having but a
small estate, sold it all for about a hundred staters, which he pre-
sented to Alcibiades, and besought him to accept. Alcibiades, smil-
ing and well pleased at the thing, invited him to supper, and, after
a very kind entertainment, gave him his gold again, requiring him,
moreover, not to fail to be present the next day, when the public
revenue was offered to farm, and to outbid all others. The man
would have excused himself, because the contract was so large, and
would cost many talents; but Alcibiades, who had at that time a
private pique against the existing farmers of the revenue, threatened
to have him beaten if he refused. The next morning, the stranger,
coming to the market-place, offered a talent more than the exist-
ing rate; upon which the farmers, enraged and consulting together,
called upon him to name his sureties, concluding that he could find
none. The poor man, being startled at the proposal, began to re-
tire; but Alcibiades, standing at a distance, cried out to the magis-
trates, "Set my name down, he is a friend of mine; I will be security
for him." When the other bidders heard this, they perceived that
all their contrivance was defeated; for their way was, with the
profits of the second year to pay the rent for the year preceding;
so that, not seeing any other way to extricate themselves out of the
difficulty, they began to entreat the stranger, and offered him a sum
of money. Alcibiades would not surfer him to accept of less than
a talent; but when that was paid down, he commanded him to
relinquish the bargain, having by this device relieved his necessity.

Though Socrates had many and powerful rivals, yet the natural
good qualities of Alcibiades gave his affection the mastery. His
words overcame him so much, as to draw tears from his eyes, and
to disturb his very soul. Yet sometimes he would abandon himself
to flatterers, when they proposed to him varieties of pleasure, and
would desert Socrates; who, then, would pursue him, as if he had
been a fugitive slave. He despised every one else, and had no rev-
erence or awe for any but him. Cleanthes, the philosopher, speak-

ALCIBIADES III

ing of one to whom he was attached, says his only hold on him was
by his ears, while his rivals had all the others offered them; and
there is no question that Alcibiades was very easily caught by
pleasures; and the expression used by Thucydides about the excesses
of his habitual course of living gives occasion to believe so. But those
who endeavored to corrupt Alcibiades, took advantage chiefly of his
vanity and ambition, and thrust him on unseasonably to undertake
great enterprises, persuading him, that as soon as he began to con-
cern himself in public affairs, he would not only obscure the rest
of the generals and statesmen, but outdo the authority and the repu-
tation which Pericles himself had gained in Greece. But in the
same manner as iron which is softened by the fire grows hard with
the cold, and all its parts are closed again; so, as often as Socrates
observed Alcibiades to be misled by luxury or pride, he reduced and
corrected him by his addresses, and made him humble and modest,
by showing him in how many things he was deficient, and how very
far from perfection in virtue.

When he was past his childhood, he went once to a grammar-
school, and asked the master for one of Homer's books; and he
making answer that he had nothing of Homer's, Alcibiades gave
him a blow with his fist, and went away. Another schoolmaster
telling him that he had Homer corrected by himself; "How?" said
Alcibiades, "and do you employ your time in teaching children to
read? You, who are able to amend Homer, may well undertake to
instruct men." Being once desirous to speak with Pericles, he went
to his house, and was told there that he was not at leisure, but
busied in considering how to give up his accounts to the Athenians;
Alcibiades, as he went away, said, "It were better for him to con-
sider how he might avoid giving up his accounts at all."

Whilst he was very young, he was a soldier in the expedition
against Potida:a, where Socrates lodged in the same tent with him,
and stood next him in battle. Once there happened a sharp skir-
mish, in which they both behaved with signal bravery; but Alci-
biades receiving a wound, Socrates threw himself before him to
defend him, and beyond any question saved him and his arms
from the enemy, and so in all justice might have challenged the
prize of valor. But the generals appearing eager to adjudge the

ii2 plutarch's lives

honor to Alcibiades, because of his rank, Socrates, who desired to
increase his thirst after glory of a noble kind, was the first to give
evidence for him, and pressed them to crown him, and to decree
to him the complete suit of armor. Afterwards, in the battle of
Delium, when the Athenians were routed and Socrates with a few
others was retreating on foot, Alcibiades, who was on horseback,
observing it, would not pass on, but stayed to shelter him from the
danger, and brought him safe off, though the enemy pressed hard
upon them, and cut off many. But this happened some time after.
He gave a box on the ear to Hipponicus, the father of Callias,
whose birth and wealth made him a person of great influence and
repute. And this he did unprovoked by any passion or quarrel be-
tween them, but only because, in a frolic, he had agreed with his
companions to do it. People were justly offended at this insolence,
when it became known through the city; but early the next morn-
ing, Alcibiades went to his house and knocked at the door, and,
being admitted to him, took off his outer garment, and, presenting
his naked body, desired him to scourge and chastise him as he
pleased. Upon this Hipponicus forgot all his resentment, and not
only pardoned him, but soon after gave him his daughter Hip-
parete in marriage. Some say that it was not Hipponicus, but his
son Callias, who gave Hipparete to Alcibiades, together with a por-
tion of ten talents, and that after, when she had a child, Alcibiades
forced him to give ten talents more, upon pretence that such was
the agreement if she brought him any children. Afterwards, Callias,
for fear of coming to his death by his means, declared, in a full
assembly of the people, that if he should happen to die without
children, the state should inherit his house and all his goods. Hip-
parete was a virtuous and dutiful wife, but, at last, growing im-
patient of the outrages done to her by her husband's continual enter-
taining of courtesans, as well strangers as Athenians, she departed
from him and retired to her brother's house. Alcibiades seemed
not at all concerned at this, and lived on still in the same luxury;
but the law requiring that she should deliver to the archon in per-
son, and not by proxy, the instrument by which she claimed a di-
vorce, when, in obedience to the law, she presented herself before
him to perform this, Alcibiades came in, caught her up, and carried

ALCIBIADES 113

her home through the market-place, no one daring to oppose him,
nor to take her from him. She continued with him till her death,
which happened not long after, when Alcibiades had gone to Ephe-
sus. Nor is this violence to be thought so very enormous or un-
manly. For the law, in making her who desires to be divorced ap-
pear in public, seems to design to give her husband an opportunity
of treating with her, and of endeavoring to retain her.

Alcibiades had a dog which cost him seventy minas, and was a
very large one, and very handsome. His tail, which was his princi-
pal ornament, he caused to be cut off, and his acquaintance ex-
claiming at him for it, and telling him that all Athens was sorry
for the dog, and cried out upon him for this action, he laughed, and
said, "Just what I wanted has happened, then. I wished the Athe-
nians to talk about this, that they might not say something worse
of me."

It is said that the first time he came into the assembly was upon
occasion of a largess of money which he made to the people. This
was not done by design, but as he passed along he heard a shout,
and inquiring the cause, and having learned that there was a dona-
tive making to the people, he went in amongst them and gave
money also. The multitude thereupon applauding him, and shout-
ing, he was so transported at it, that he forgot a quail which
he had under his robe, and the bird, being frighted with the noise,
flew off; upon which the people made louder acclamations than
before, and many of them started up to pursue the bird; and one
Antiochus, a pilot, caught it and restored it to him, for which he
was ever after a favorite with Alcibiades.

He had great advantages for entering public life; his noble birth,
his riches, the personal courage he had shown in divers battles, and
the multitude of his friends and dependents, threw open, so to say,
folding doors for his admittance. But he did not consent to let his
power with the people rest on any thing, rather than on his own
gift of eloquence. That he was a master in the art of speaking, the
comic poets bear him witness; and the most eloquent of public
speakers, in his oration against Midias, allows that Alcibiades,
among other perfections, was a most accomplished orator. If, how-
ever, we give credit to Theophrastus, who of all philosophers was

1 14 PLUTARCH S LIVES

the most curious inquirer, and the greatest lover of history, we are
to understand that Alcibiades had the highest capacity for invent-
ing, for discerning what was the right thing to be said for any
purpose, and on any occasion; but, aiming not only at saying what
was required, but also at saying it well, in respect, that is, of words
and phrases, when these did not readily occur, he would often pause
in the middle of his discourse for want of the apt word, and would
be silent and stop till he could recollect himself, and had considered
what to say.

His expenses in horses kept for the public games, and in the num-
ber of his chariots, were matter of great observation; never did any
one but he, either private person or king, send seven chariots to
the Olympic games. And to have carried away at once the first, the
second, and the fourth prizes, as Thucydides says, or the third, as
Euripides relates it, outdoes far away every distinction that ever
was known or thought of in that kind. Euripides celebrates his
success in this manner:

" — But my song to you,
Son of Clinias, is due.
Victory is noble; how much more
To do as never Greek before;
To obtain in the great chariot race
The first, the second, and third place;
With easy step advanced to fame,
To bid the herald three times claim
The olive for one victor's name."

The emulation displayed by the deputations of various states, in the
presents which they made to him, rendered this success yet more
illustrious. The Ephesians erected a tent for him, adorned magnifi-
cently; the city of Chios furnished him with provender for his
horses and with great numbers of beasts for sacrifice; and the Les-
bians sent him wine and other provisions for the many great enter-
tainments which he made. Yet in the midst of all this he escaped
not without censure, occasioned either by the ill-nature of his ene-
mies or by his own misconduct. For it is said, that one Diomedes,
an Athenian, a worthy man and a friend to Alcibiades, passionately
desiring to obtain the victory at the Olympic games, and having

ALCIBIADES 115

heard much of a chariot which belonged to the state at Argos, where
he knew that Alcibiades had great power and many friends, pre-
vailed with him to undertake to buy the chariot. Alcibiades did
indeed buy it, but then claimed it for his own, leaving Diomedes
to rage at him, and to call upon the gods and men to bear witness
to the injustice. It would seem there was a suit at law commenced
upon this occasion, and there is yet extant an oration concerning
the chariot, written by Isocrates in defence of the son of Alcibiades.
But the plaintiff in this action is named Tisias, and not Diomedes.
As soon as he began to intermeddle in the government, which
was when he was very young, he quickly lessened the credit of all
who aspired to the confidence of the people, except Phiax, the son
of Erasistratus, and Nicias, the son of Niceratus, who alone could
contest it with him. Nicias was arrived at a mature age, and was
esteemed their first general. Phacax was but a rising statesman like
Alcibiades; he was descended from noble ancestors, but was his
inferior, as in many other things, so, principally in eloquence. He
possessed rather the art of persuading in private conversation than
of debate before the people, and was, as Eupolis said of him,

"The best of talkers, and of speakers worst."

There is extant an oration written by Phseax against Alcibiades, in
which, amongst other things, it is said that Alcibiades made daily
use at his table of many gold and silver vessels, which belonged to
the commonwealth, as if they had been his own.

There was a certain Hyperbolus, of the township of Perithcedac,
whom Thucydides also speaks of as a man of bad character, a gen-
eral butt for the mockery of all the comic writers of the time, but
quite unconcerned at the worst things they could say, and, being
careless of glory, also insensible of shame; a temper which some
people call boldness and courage, whereas it is indeed impudence
and recklessness. He was liked by nobody, yet the people made
frequent use of him, when they had a mind to disgrace or calumni-
ate any persons in authority. At this time, the people, by his per-
suasions, were ready to proceed to pronounce the sentence of ten
years' banishment, called ostracism. This they made use of to hu-
miliate and drive out of the city such citizens as outdid the rest in

n6 plutarch's lives

credit and power, indulging not so much perhaps their apprehen-
sions as their jealousies in this way. And when, at this time, there
was no doubt but that the ostracism would fall upon one of those
three, Alcibiades contrived to form a coalition of parties, and, com-
municating his project to Nicias, turned the sentence upon Hyper-
bolus himself. Others say, that it was not with Nicias, but Phxax,
that he consulted, and, by help of his party, procured the banishment
of Hyperbolus, when he suspected nothing less. For, before that
time, no mean or obscure person had ever fallen under that pun-
ishment, so that Plato, the comic poet, speaking of Hyperbolus,
might well say,

"The man deserved the fate; deny 't who can?
Yes, but the fate did not deserve the man;
Not for the like of him and his slave-brands
Did Athens put the sherd into our hands."

But we have given elsewhere a fuller statement of what is known
to us of the matter.

Alcibiades was not less disturbed at the distinctions which Nicias
gained amongst the enemies of Athens, than at the honors which
the Athenians themselves paid to him. For though Alcibiades was
the proper appointed person* to receive all Lacedaemonians when
they came to Athens, and had taken particular care of those that
were made prisoners at Pylos, yet, after they had obtained the peace
and restitution of the captives, by the procurement chiefly of Nicias,
they paid him very special attentions. And it was commonly said
in Greece, that the war was begun by Pericles, and that Nicias
made an end of it, and the peace was generally called the peace of
Nicias. Alcibiades was extremely annoyed at this, and, being full
of envy, set himself to break the league. First, therefore, observing
that the Argives, as well out of fear as hatred to the Lacedaemo-
nians, sought for protection against them, he gave them a secret
assurance of alliance with Athens. And communicating, as well in
person as by letters, with the chief advisers of the people there, he

* The Proxcnus, that is, who in the ancient cities exercised, in a private station,
and as a matter of private magnificence and splendid hospitality (he being always a
citizen of the state in which he resided) many of the duties of protection now officially
committed to consuls and resident ministers.

ALCIBIADES 117

encouraged them not to fear the Lacedaemonians, nor make con-
cessions to them, but to wait a little, and keep their eyes on the
Athenians, who, already, were all but sorry they had made peace,
and would soon give it up. And, afterwards, when the Lacedaemo-
nians had made a league with the Boeotians, and had not delivered
up Panactum entire, as they ought to have done by the treaty, but
only after first destroying it, which gave great offence to the people
of Athens, Alcibiades laid hold of that opportunity to exasperate
them more highly. He exclaimed fiercely against Nicias, and ac-
cused him of many things, which seemed probable enough: as that,
when he was general, he made no attempt himself to capture their
enemies that were shut up in the isle of Sphacteria, but, when they
were afterwards made prisoners by others, he procured their release
and sent them back to the Lacedaemonians, only to get favor with
them; that he would not make use of his credit with them, to pre-
vent their entering into this confederacy with the Boeotians and
Corinthians, and yet, on the other side, that he sought to stand in
the way of those Greeks who were inclined to make an alliance and
friendship with Athens, if the Lacedaemonians did not like it.

It happened, at the very time when Nicias was by these arts
brought into disgrace with the people, that ambassadors arrived
from Lacedaemon, who, at their first coming, said what seemed
very satisfactory, declaring that they had full powers to arrange all
matters in dispute upon fair and equal terms. The council received
their propositions, and the people was to assemble on the morrow
to give them audience. Alcibiades grew very apprehensive of this,
and contrived to gain a secret conference with the ambassadors.
When they were met, he said: "What is it you intend, you men of
Sparta? Can you be ignorant that the council always act with
moderation and respect towards ambassadors, but that the people
are full of ambition and great designs? So that, if you let them
know what full powers your commission gives you, they will urge
and press you to unreasonable conditions. Quit, therefore, this indis-
creet simplicity, if you expect to obtain equal terms from the Athe-
nians, and would not have things extorted from you contrary to
your inclinations, and begin to treat with the people upon some rea-
sonable articles, not avowing yourselves plenipotentiaries; and I will

n8 Plutarch's lives

be ready to assist you, out of good-will to the Lacedaemonians."
When he had said thus, he gave them his oath for the performance
of what he promised, and by this way drew them from Nicias to
rely entirely upon himself, and left them full of admiration of the
discernment and sagacity they had seen in him. The next day, when
the people were assembled and the ambassadors introduced, Alci-
biades, with great apparent courtesy, demanded of them, With what
powers they were come? They made answer that they were not
come as plenipotentiaries.

Instantly upon that, Alcibiades, with a loud voice, as though he
had received and not done the wrong, began to call them dishonest
prevaricators, and to urge that such men could not possibly come with
a purpose to say or do any thing that was sincere. The council was
incensed, the people were in a rage, and Nicias, who knew nothing
of the deceit and the imposture, was in the greatest confusion,
equally surprised and ashamed at such a change in the men. So
thus the Lacedaemonian ambassadors were utterly rejected, and Alci-
biades was declared general, who presently united the Argives, the
Eleans, and the people of Mantinea, into a confederacy with the
Athenians.

No man commended the method by which Alcibiades effected
all this, yet it was a great political feat thus to divide and shake
almost all Peloponnesus, and to combine so many men in arms
against the Lacedaemonians in one day before Mantinea; and, more-
over, to remove the war and the danger so far from the frontier of
the Athenians, that even success would profit the enemy but little,
should they be conquerors, whereas, if they were defeated, Sparta
itself was hardly safe.

After this battle at Mantinea, the select thousand of the army of
the Argives attempted to overthrow the government of the people
in Argos, and make themselves masters of the city; and the Lace-
daemonians came to their aid and abolished the democracy. But
the people took arms again, and gained the advantage, and Alcibi-
ades came in to their aid and completed the victory, and persuaded
them to build long walls, and by that means to join their city to the
sea, and so to bring it wholly within the reach of the Athenian
power. To this purpose, he procured them builders and masons

ALCIBIADES 119

from Athens, and displayed the greatest zeal for their service, and
gained no less honor and power to himself than to the common-
wealth of Athens. He also persuaded the people of Patrae to join
their city to the sea, by building long walls; and when some one told
them, by way of warning, that the Athenians would swallow them
up at last, Alcibiades made answer, "Possibly it may be so, but it
will be by little and little, and beginning at the feet, whereas the
Lacedaemonians will begin at the head and devour you all at once."
Nor did he neglect either to advise the Athenians to look to their
interests by land, and often put the young men in mind of the oath
which they had made at Agraulos to the effect that they would ac-
count wheat and barley, and vines and olives, to be the limits of
Attica by which they were taught to claim a tide to all land that
was cultivated and productive.

But with all these words and deeds, and with all this sagacity
and eloquence, he intermingled exorbitant luxury and wantonness
in his eating and drinking and dissolute living; wore long purple
robes like a woman, which dragged after him as he went through
the market-place; caused the planks of his galley to be cut away,
that so he might lie the softer, his bed not being placed on the
boards, but hanging upon girths. His shield, again, which was
richly gilded, had not the usual ensigns of the Athenians, but a
Cupid, holding a thunderbolt in his hand, was painted upon it. The
sight of all this made the people of good repute in the city feel dis-
gust and abhorrence, and apprehension also, at his free-living, and
his contempt of law, as things monstrous in themselves, and indicat-
ing designs of usurpation. Aristophanes has well expressed the peo-
ple's feeling towards him: —

"They love, and hate, and cannot do without him.
And still more strongly, under a figurative expression,

"Best rear no lion in your state, 't is true;
But treat him like a lion if you do."

The truth is, his liberalities, his public shows, and other munificence
to the people, which were such as nothing could exceed, the glory of
his ancestors, the force of his eloquence, the grace of his person, his

120 PLUTARCH S LIVES

strength of body, joined with his great courage and knowledge in
military affairs, prevailed upon the Athenians to endure patiently
his excesses, to indulge many things to him, and, according to their
habit, to give the softest names to his faults, attributing them to
youth and good nature. As, for example, he kept Agatharcus, the
painter, a prisoner till he had painted his whole house, but then
dismissed him with a reward. He publicly struck Taureas, who
exhibited certain shows in opposition to him and contended with
him for the prize. He selected for himself one of the captive Melian
women, and had a son by her, whom he took care to educate.
This the Athenians styled great humanity; and yet he was the prin-
cipal cause of the slaughter of all the inhabitants of the isle of
Melos who were of age to bear arms, having spoken in favor of
that decree. When Aristophon, the painter, had drawn Nemea sit-
ting and holding Alcibiades in her arms, the multitude seemed
pleased with the piece, and thronged to see it, but older people dis-
liked and disrelished it, and looked on these things as enormities,
and movements towards tyranny. So that it was not said amiss by
Archestratus, that Greece could not support a second Alcibiades.
Once, when Alcibiades succeeded well in an oration which he
made, and the whole assembly attended upon him to do him honor,
Timon the misanthrope did not pass slightly by him, nor avoid him,
as he did others, but purposely met him, and, taking him by the
hand, said, "Go on boldly, my son, and increase in credit with the
people, for thou wilt one day bring them calamities enough." Some
that were present laughed at the saying, and some reviled Timon;
but there were others upon whom it made a deep impression; so
various was the judgment which was made of him, and so irregular
his own character.

The Athenians, even in the lifetime of Pericles, had already cast
a longing eye upon Sicily; but did not attempt any thing till after
his death. Then, under pretence of aiding their confederates, they
sent succors upon all occasions to those who were oppressed by the
Syracusans, preparing the way for sending over a greater force. But
Alcibiades was the person who inflamed this desire of theirs to the
height, and prevailed with them no longer to proceed secretly, and
by litde and little, in their design, but to sail out with a great

ALCIBIADES 121

fleet, and undertake at once to make themselves masters of the
island. He possessed the people with great hopes, and he himself
entertained yet greater; and the conquest of Sicily, which was the
utmost bound of their ambition, was but the mere outset of his ex-
pectation. Nicias endeavored to divert the people from the expedi-
tion, by representing to them that the taking of Syracuse would be
a work of great difficulty; but Alcibiades dreamed of nothing less
than the conquest of Carthage and Libya, and by the accession of
these conceiving himself at once made master of Italy and of Pelo-
ponnesus, seemed to look upon Sicily as little more than a magazine
for the war. The young men were soon elevated with these hopes,
and listened gladly to those of riper years, who talked wonders of
the countries they were going to; so that you might see great num-
bers sitting in the wrestling grounds and public places, drawing on
the ground the figure of the island and the situation of Libya and
Carthage. Socrates the philosopher and Meton the astrologer are
said, however, never to have hoped for any good to the common-
wealth from this war; the one, it is to be supposed, presaging what
would ensue, by the intervention of his attendant Genius; and the
other, either upon rational consideration of the project, or by
use of the art of divination, conceived fears for its issue, and, feign-
ing madness, caught up a burning torch, and seemed as if he would
have set his own house on fire. Others report, that he did not take
upon him to act the madman, but secretly in the night set his
house on fire, and the next morning besought the people, that for
his comfort, after such a calamity, they would spare his son from
the expedition. By which artifice, he deceived his fellow-citizens,
and obtained of them what he desired.

Together with Alcibiades, Nicias, much against his will, was
appointed general: and he endeavored to avoid the command, not
the less on account of his colleague. But the Athenians thought the
war would proceed more prosperously, if they did not send Alci-
biades free from all restraint, but tempered his heat with the caution
of Nicias. This they chose the rather to do, because Lamachus, the
third general, though he was of mature years, yet in several batdes
had appeared no less hot and rash than Alcibiades himself. When
they began to deliberate of the number of forces, and of the manner

122 PLUTARCH S LIVES

of making the necessary provisions, Nicias made another attempt
to oppose the design, and to prevent the war; but Alcibiades con-
tradicted him, and carried his point with the people. And one
Demostratus, an orator, proposing to give the generals absolute
power over the preparations and the whole management of the
war, it was presently decreed so. When all things were fitted for
the voyage, many unlucky omens appeared. At that very time the
feast of Adonis happened, in which the women were used to expose,
in all parts of the city, images resembling dead men carried out to
their burial, and to represent funeral solemnities by lamentations
and mournful songs. The mutilation, however, of the images of
Mercury, most of which, in one night, had their faces all disfigured,
terrified many persons who were wont to despise most things of
that nature. It was given out that it was done by the Corinthians,
for the sake of the Syracusans, who were their colony, in hopes that
the Athenians, by such prodigies, might be induced to delay or
abandon the war. But the report gained no credit with the people,
nor yet the opinion of those who would not believe that there was
any thing ominous in the matter, but that it was only an extrava-
gant action, committed, in that sort of sport which runs into license,
by wild young men coming from a debauch. Alike enraged and
terrified at the thing, looking upon it to proceed from a conspiracy
of persons who designed some commotions in the state, the coun-
cil, as well as the assembly of the people, which was held frequently
in a few days' space, examined diligently every thing that might
administer ground for suspicion. During this examination, An-
drocles, one of the demagogues, produced certain slaves and stran-
gers before them, who accused Alcibiades and some of his friends
of defacing other images in the same manner, and of having pro-
fanely acted the sacred mysteries at a drunken meeting, where one
Theodorus represented the herald, Polytion the torch-bearer, and
Alcibiades the chief priest, while the rest of the party appeared as
candidates for initiation, and received the tide of Initiates. These
were the matters contained in the articles of information, 5 which
Thessalus, the son of Cimon, exhibited against Alcibiades, for his

s Eisangclia, the technical term for an indictment before the legislature for misde-
meanors not coming strictly under the letter of any written law.

ALCIBIADES 1 23

impious mockery of the goddesses, Ceres and Proserpine. The peo-
ple were highly exasperated and incensed against Alcibiades upon
this accusation, which, being aggravated by Androcles, the most
malicious of all his enemies, at first disturbed his friends exceed-
ingly. But when they perceived that all the seamen designed for
Sicily were for him, and the soldiers also, and when the Argive
and Mantinean auxiliaries, a thousand men at arms, openly declared
that they had undertaken this distant maritime expedition for the
sake of Alcibiades, and that, if he was ill-used, they would all go
home, they recovered their courage, and became eager to make use
of the present opportunity for justifying him. At this his enemies
were again discouraged, fearing lest the people should be more
gentle to him in their sentence, because of the occasion they had
for his service. Therefore, to obviate this, they contrived that some
other orators, who did not appear to be enemies to Alcibiades, but
really hated him no less than those who avowed it, should stand up
in the assembly and say, that it was a very absurd thing that one
who was created general of such an army with absolute power,
after his troops were assembled, and the confederates were come,
should lose the opportunity, whilst the people were choosing his
judges by lot, and appointing times for the hearing of the cause.
And, therefore, let him set sail at once; good fortune attend him; and
when the war should be at an end, he might then in person make
his defence according to the laws.

Alcibiades perceived the malice of this postponement, and, ap-
pearing in the assembly, represented that it was monstrous for him
to be sent with the command of so large an army, when he lay under
such accusations and calumnies; that he deserved to die, if he could
not clear himself of the crimes objected to him; but when he had
so done, and had proved his innocence, he should then cheerfully
apply himself to the war, as standing no longer in fear of false
accusers. But he could not prevail with the people who commanded
him to sail immediately. So he departed, together with the other
generals, having with them near 140 galleys, 5,100 men at arms, and
about 1,300 archers, slingers, and light-armed men, and all the other
provisions corresponding.

Arriving on the coast of Italy, he landed at Rhegium, and there

124 PLUTARCH S LIVES

stated his views of the manner in which they ought to conduct the
war. He was opposed by Nicias; but Lamachus being of his opin-
ion, they sailed for Sicily forthwith, and took Catana. This was
all that was done while he was there, for he was soon after recalled
by the Athenians to abide his trial. At first, as we before said, there
were only some slight suspicions advanced against Alcibiades, and
accusations by certain slaves and strangers. But afterwards, in his
absence, his enemies attacked him more violently, and confounded
together the breaking the images with the profanation of the mys-
teries, as though both had been committed in pursuance of the same
conspiracy for changing the government. The people proceeded
to imprison all that were accused, without distinction, and without
hearing them, and repented now, considering the importance of the
charge, that they had not immediately brought Alcibiades to his
trial, and given judgment against him. Any of his friends or ac-
quaintances who fell into the people's hands, whilst they were in
this fury, did not fail to meet with very severe usage. Thucydides
has omitted to name the informers, but others mention Dioclides
and Teucer. Amongst whom is Phrynichus, the comic poet, in
whom we find the following: —

"O dearest Hermes! only do take care,
And mind you do not miss your footing there;
Should you get hurt, occasion may arise
For a new Dioclides to tell lies."

To which he makes Mercury return this answer: —

"I will so, for I feel no inclination
To reward Teucer for more information.''

The truth is, his accusers alleged nothing that was certain or solid
against him. One of them, being asked how he knew the men who
defaced the images, replying, that he saw them by the light of the
moon, made a palpable misstatement, for it was just new moon
when the fact was committed. This made all men of understand-
ing cry out upon the thing; but the people were as eager as ever to
receive further accusations, nor was their first heat at all abated,
but they instantly seized and imprisoned every one that was ac-

ALCIBIADES 1 25

cused. Amongst those who were detained in prison for their trials
was Andocides the orator, whose descent the historian Hellanicus
deduces from Ulysses. He was always supposed to hate popular
government, and to support oligarchy. The chief ground of his
being suspected of defacing the images was because the great Mer-
cury, which stood near his house, and was an ancient monument
of the tribe jEge'is, was almost the only statue of all the remarkable
ones, which remained entire. For this cause, it is now called the
Mercury of Andocides, all men giving it that name, though the
inscription is evidence to the contrary. It happened that Andocides,
amongst the rest who were prisoners upon the same account, con-
tracted particular acquaintance and intimacy with one Timseus, a
person inferior to him in repute, but of remarkable dexterity and
boldness. He persuaded Andocides to accuse himself and some
few others of this crime, urging to him that, upon his confession,
he would be, by the decree of the people, secure of his pardon,
whereas the event of judgment is uncertain to all men, but to great
persons, such as he was, most formidable. So that it was better for
him, if he regarded himself, to save his life by a falsity, than to
suffer an infamous death, as really guilty of the crime. And if he
had regard to the public good, it was commendable to sacrifice a
few suspected men, by that means to rescue many excellent persons
from the fury of the people. Andocides was prevailed upon, and
accused himself and some others, and, by the terms of the decree,
obtained his pardon, while all the persons named by him, except
some few who had saved themselves by flight, suffered death. To
gain the greater credit to his information, he accused his own serv-
ants amongst others. But notwithstanding this, the people's anger
was not wholly appeased; and being now no longer diverted by the
mutilators, they were at leisure to pour out their whole rage upon
Alcibiades. And, in conclusion, they sent the galley named the
Salaminian, to recall him. But they expressly commanded those
that were sent, to use no violence, nor seize upon his person, but
address themselves to him in the mildest terms, requiring him to
follow them to Athens in order to abide his trial, and clear himself
before the people. For they feared mutiny and sedition in the army
in an enemy's country, which indeed it would have been easy for

126 plutarch's lives

Alcibiades to effect, if he had wished it. For the soldiers were dis-
pirited upon his departure, expecting for the future tedious delays,
and that the war would be drawn out into a lazy length by Nicias,
when Alcibiades, who was the spur to action, was taken away. For
though Lamachus was a soldier, and a man of courage, poverty de-
prived him of authority and respect in the army. Alcibiades, just
upon his departure, prevented Messena from falling into the hands
of the Athenians. There were some in that city who were upon the
point of delivering it up, but he, knowing the persons, gave informa-
tion to some friends of the Syracusans, and so defeated the whole
contrivance. When he arrived at Thurii, he went on shore, and,
concealing himself there, escaped those who searched after him.
But to one who knew him, and asked him if he durst not trust his
own native country, he made answer, "In every thing else, yes; but
in a matter that touches my life, I would not even my own mother,
lest she might by mistake throw in the black ball instead of the
white." When, afterwards, he was told that the assembly had pro-
nounced judgment of death against him, all he said was "I will
make them feel that I am alive."
The information against him was conceived in this form: —
"Thessalus, the son of Cimon, of the township of Lacia, lays in-
formation that Alcibiades, the son of Clinias, of the township of the
Scambonidx, has committed a crime against the goddesses Ceres
and Proserpine, by representing in derision the holy mysteries, and
showing them to his companions in his own house. Where, being
habited in such robes as are used by the chief priest when he shows
the holy things, he named himself the chief priest, Polytion the
torch-bearer, and Theodorus, of the township of Phegara, the her-
ald; and saluted the rest of his company as Initiates and Novices.
All which was done contrary to the laws and institutions of the
Eumolpidar, and the heralds and priests of the temple at Eleusis."

He was condemned as contumacious upon his not appearing,
his property confiscated, and it was decreed that all the priests and
priestesses should solemnly curse him. But one of them, Theano,
the daughter of Menon, of the township of Agraule, is said to have
opposed that part of the decree, saying that her holy office obliged
her to make prayers, but not execrations.

ALCIBIADES 127

Alcibiades, lying under these heavy decrees and sentences, when
first he fled from Thurii, passed over into Peloponnesus, and re-
mained some time at Argos. But being there in fear of his ene-
mies, and seeing himself utterly hopeless of return to his native
country, he sent to Sparta, desiring safe conduct, and assuring them
that he would make them amends by his future services for all the
mischief he had done them while he was their enemy. The Spartans
giving him the security he desired, he went eagerly, was well re-
ceived, and, at his very first coming, succeeded in inducing them,
without any further caution or delay, to send aid to the Syracusans;
and so roused and excited them, that they forthwith despatched
Gylippus into Sicily, to crush the forces which the Athenians had
in Sicily. A second point was to renew the war upon the Athenians
at home. But the third thing, and the most important of all, was
to make them fortify Decelea, which above every thing reduced
and wasted the resources of the Athenians.

The renown which he earned by these public services was
equalled by the admiration he attracted to his private life; he capti-
vated and won over everybody by his conformity to Spartan habits.
People who saw him wearing his hair close cut, bathing in cold
water, eating coarse meal, and dining on black broth, doubted, or
rather could not believe, that he ever had a cook in his house, or
had ever seen a perfumer, or had worn a mande of Milesian pur-
ple. For he had, as it was observed, this peculiar talent and artifice
for gaining men's affections, that he could at once comply with and
really embrace and enter into their habits and ways of life, and
change faster than the chameleon. One color, indeed, they say the
chameleon cannot assume; it cannot make itself appear white; but
Alcibiades, whether with good men or with bad, could adapt him-
self to his company, and equally wear the appearance of virtue or
vice. At Sparta, he was devoted to athletic exercises, was frugal
and reserved; in Ionia, luxurious, gay, and indolent; in Thrace, al-
ways drinking; in Thessaly, ever on horseback; and when he lived
with Tisaphernes, the Persian satrap, he exceeded the Persians them-
selves in magnificence and pomp. Not that his natural disposition
changed so easily, nor that his real character was so very variable,
but, whenever he was sensible that by pursuing his own inclina-

128 plutarch's lives

tions he might give offence to those with whom he had occasion
to converse, he transformed himself into any shape, and adopted
any fashion, that he observed to be the most agreeable to them.
So that to have seen him at Lacedarmon, a man, judging by the
outward appearance, would have said, " Tis not Achilles's son,
but he himself, the very man" that Lycurgus designed to form;
while his real feelings and acts would have rather provoked the
exclamation, " 'Tis the same woman still." For while king Agis
was absent, and abroad with the army, he corrupted his wife Ti-
ma?a, and had a child born by her. Nor did she even deny it, but
when she was brought to bed of a son, called him in public Leoty-
chides, but, amongst her confidants and attendants, would whisper
that his name was Alcibiades. To such a degree was she trans-
ported by her passion for him. He, on the other side, would say, in
his vain way, he had not done this thing out of mere wantonness
of insult, nor to gratify a passion, but that his race might one day be
kings over the Lacedaemonians.

There were many who told Agis that this was so, but time itself
gave the greatest confirmation to the story. For Agis, alarmed by
an earthquake, had quitted his wife, and, for ten months after, was
never with her; Leotychides, therefore, being born after those ten
months, he would not acknowledge him for his son; which was
the reason that afterwards he was not admitted to the succession.

After the defeat which the Athenians received in Sicily, ambassa-
dors were despatched to Sparta at once from Chios and Lesbos and
Cyzicus, to signify their purpose of revolting from the Athenians.
The Boeotians interposed in favor of the Lesbians, and Pharnabazus
of the Cyzicenes, but the Lacedarmonians, at the persuasion of Alci-
biades, chose to assist Chios before all others. He himself, also,
went instantly to sea, procured the immediate revolt of almost all
Ionia, and, cooperating with the Lacedaemonian generals, did great
mischief to the Athenians. But Agis was his enemy, hating him for
having dishonored his wife, and also impatient of his glory, as
almost every enterprise and every success was ascribed to Alcibi-
ades. Others, also, of the most powerful and ambitious amongst the
Spartans, were possessed with jealousy of him, and, at last, prevailed
with the magistrates in the city to send orders into Ionia that he

ALCIBIADES 1 29

should be killed. Alcibiades, however, had secret intelligence of
this, and, in apprehension of the result, while he communicated all
affairs to the Lacedaemonians, yet took care not to put himself into
their power. At last he retired to Tisaphernes, the king of Persia's
satrap, for his security, and immediately became the first and most
influential person about him. For this barbarian, not being himself
sincere, but a lover of guile and wickedness, admired his address
and wonderful subtlety. And, indeed, the charm of daily inter-
course with him was more than any character could resist or any
disposition escape. Even those who feared and envied him could
not but take delight, and have a sort of kindness for him, when
they saw him and were in his company. So that Tisaphernes,
otherwise a cruel character, and, above all other Persians, a hater of
the Greeks, was yet so won by the flatteries of Alcibiades, that he
set himself even to exceed him in responding to them. The most
beautiful of his parks, containing salubrious streams and meadows,
where he had built pavilions, and places of retirement royally and
exquisitely adorned, received by his direction the name of Alci-
biades, and was always so called and so spoken of.

Thus Alcibiades, quitting the interests of the Spartans, whom he
could no longer trust, because he stood in fear of Agis, endeavored
to do them ill offices, and render them odious to Tisaphernes, who,
by his means, was hindered from assisting them vigorously, and
from finally ruining the Athenians. For his advice was to furnish
them but sparingly with money, and so wear them out, and con-
sume them insensibly; when they had wasted their strength upon
one another, they would both become ready to submit to the king.
Tisaphernes readily pursued his counsel, and so openly expressed
the liking and admiration which he had for him, that Alcibiades
was looked up to by the Greeks of both parties, and the Athenians,
now in their misfortunes, repented them of their severe sentence
against him. And he, on the other side, began to be troubled for
them, and to fear lest, if that commonwealth were utterly destroyed,
he should fall into the hands of the Lacedaemonians, his enemies.

At that time the whole strength of the Athenians was in Samos.
Their fleet maintained itself here, and issued from these head-
quarters to reduce such as had revolted, and protect the rest of their

130 PLUTARCH S LIVES

territories; in one way or other still contriving to be a match for
their enemies at sea. What they stood in fear of, was Tisaphernes
and the Phoenician fleet of one hundred and fifty galleys, which
was said to be already under sail; if those came, there remained
then no hopes for the commonwealth of Athens. Understanding
this, Alcibiades sent secretly to the chief men of the Athenians, who
were then at Samos, giving them hopes that he would make Tisa-
phernes their friend; he was willing, he implied, to do some favor,
not to the people, nor in reliance upon them, but to the better citi-
zens, if only, like brave men, they would make the attempt to put
down the insolence of the people, and, by taking upon them the
government, would endeavor to save the city from ruin. All of
them gave a ready ear to the proposal made by Alcibiades, except
only Phrynichus, of the township of Dirades, one of the generals,
who suspected, as the truth was, that Alcibiades concerned not him-
self whether the government were in the people or the better citi-
zens, but only sought by any means to make way for his return
into his native country, and to that end inveighed against the peo-
ple, thereby to gain the others, and to insinuate himself into their
good opinion. But when Phrynichus found his counsel to be re-
jected, and that he was himself become a declared enemy of Alci-
biades, he gave secret intelligence to Astyochus, the enemy's ad-
miral, cautioning him to beware of Alcibiades, and to seize him as
a double dealer, unaware that one traitor was making discoveries
to another. For Astyochus, who was eager to gain the favor of
Tisaphernes, observing the credit Alcibiades had with him, revealed
to Alcibiades all that Phrynichus had said against him. Alcibiades
at once despatched messengers to Samos, to accuse Phrynichus of
the treachery. Upon this, all the commanders were enraged with
Phrynichus, and set themselves against him, and he, seeing no other
way to extricate himself from the present danger, attempted to
remedy one evil by a greater. He sent to Astyochus to reproach
him for betraying him, and to make an offer to him at the same
time, to deliver into his hands both the army and the navy of the
Athenians. This occasioned no damage to the Athenians, because
Astyochus repeated his treachery, and revealed also this proposal to
Alcibiades. But this again was foreseen by Phrynichus, who, expect-

ALCIBIADES I3I

ing a second accusation from Alcibiades, to anticipate him, adver-
tised the Athenians beforehand that the enemy was ready to sail in
order to surprise them, and therefore advised them to fortify their
camp, and to be in a readiness to go aboard their ships. While the
Athenians were intent upon doing these things, they received other
letters from Alcibiades, admonishing them to beware of Phrynichus,
as one who designed to betray their fleet to the enemy, to which
they then gave no credit at all, conceiving that Alcibiades, who
knew perfectly the counsels and preparations of the enemy, was
merely making use of that knowledge, in order to impose upon
them in this false accusation of Phrynichus. Yet, afterwards, when
Phrynichus was stabbed with a dagger in the market-place by
Hermon, one of the guard, the Athenians, entering into an exami-
nation of the cause, solemnly condemned Phrynichus of treason, and
decreed crowns to Hermon and his associates. And now the friends
of Alcibiades, carrying all before them at Samos, despatched Pisan-
der to Athens, to attempt a change of government, and to encour-
age the aristocratical citizens to take upon themselves the govern-
ment, and overthrow the democracy, representing to them, that,
upon these terms, Alcibiades would procure them the friendship
and alliance of Tisaphernes.

This was the color and pretence made use of by those who de-
sired to change the government of Athens to an oligarchy. But as
soon as they prevailed, and had got the administration of affairs
into their hands, under the name of the Five Thousand (whereas,
indeed, they were but four hundred), they slighted Alcibiades al-
together, and prosecuted the war with less vigor; partly because they
durst not yet trust the citizens, who secretly detested this change,
and partly because they thought the Lacedaemonians, who always
befriended the government of the few, would be inclined to give
them favorable terms.

The people in the city were terrified into submission, many of
those who had dared openly to oppose the four hundred having
been put to death. But those who were at Samos, indignant when
they heard this news, were eager to set sail instantly for the Piraeus;
and, sending for Alcibiades, they declared him general, requiring
him to lead them on to put down the tyrants. He, however, in that

132 plutarch's lives

juncture, did not, as it might have been thought a man would, on
being suddenly exalted by the favor of a multitude, think himself
under an obligation to gratify and submit to all the wishes of those
who, from a fugitive and an exile, had created him general of so
great an army, and given him the command of such a fleet. But,
as became a great captain, he opposed himself to the precipitate
resolutions which their rage led them to, and, by restraining them
from the great error they were about to commit, unequivocally
saved the commonwealth. For if they then had sailed to Athens, all
Ionia and the islands and the Hellespont would have fallen into
the enemies' hands without opposition, while the Athenians, in-
volved in civil war, would have been fighting with one another
within the circuit of their own walls. It was Alcibiades alone, or,
at least, principally, who prevented all this mischief; for he not only
used persuasion to the whole army, and showed them the danger,
but applied himself to them, one by one, entreating some, and con-
straining others. He was much assisted, however, by Thrasybulus
of Stiria, who, having the loudest voice, as we are told, of all the
Athenians, went along with him, and cried out to those who were
ready to be gone. A second great service which Alcibiades did for
them was, his undertaking that the Phoenician fleet, which the Lace-
daemonians expected to be sent to them by the king of Persia, should
either come in aid of the Athenians, or otherwise should not come
at all. He sailed off with all expedition in order to perform this,
and the ships, which had already been seen as near as Aspendus,
were not brought any further by Tisaphernes, who thus deceived
the Lacedaemonians; and it was by both sides believed that they
had been diverted by the procurement of Alcibiades. The Laceda:-
monians, in particular, accused him, that he had advised the Bar-
barian to stand still, and suffer the Greeks to waste and destroy
one another, as it was evident that the accession of so great a force
to either party would enable them to take away the entire dominion
of the sea from the other side.

Soon after this, the four hundred usurpers were driven out, the
friends of Alcibiades vigorously assisting those who were for the
popular government. And now the people in the city not only de-
sired, but commanded Alcibiades to return home from his exile.

ALCIBIADES I33

He, however, desired not to owe his return to the mere grace and
commiseration of the people, and resolved to come back, not with
empty hands, but with glory, and after some service done. To this
end, he sailed from Samos with a few ships, and cruised on the
sea of Cnidos, and about the isle of Cos; but receiving intelligence
there that Mindarus, the Spartan admiral, had sailed with his whole
army into the Hellespont, and that the Athenians had followed him,
he hurried back to succor the Athenian commanders, and, by good
fortune, arrived with eighteen galleys at a critical time. For both
the fleets having engaged near Abydos, the fight between them had
lasted till night, the one side having the advantage on one quarter,
and the other on another. Upon his first appearance, both sides
formed a false impression; the enemy was encouraged, and the
Athenians terrified. But Alcibiades suddenly raised the Athenian
ensign in the admiral ship, and fell upon those galleys of the Pelo-
ponnesians which had the advantage and were in pursuit. He soon
put these to flight, and followed them so close that he forced them
on shore, and broke the ships in pieces, the sailors abandoning them
and swimming away, in spite of all the efforts of Pharnabazus, who
had come down to their assistance by land, and did what he could
to protect them from the shore. In fine, the Athenians, having taken
thirty of the enemy's ships, and recovered all their own, erected a
trophy. After the gaining of so glorious a victory, his vanity made
him eager to show himself to Tisaphernes, and, having furnished
himself with gifts and presents, and an equipage suitable to his
dignity, he set out to visit him. But the thing did not succeed as he
had imagined, for Tisaphernes had been long suspected by the
Lacedarmonians, and was afraid to fall into disgrace with his king
upon that account, and therefore thought that Alcibiades arrived
very opportunely, and immediately caused him to be seized, and
sent away prisoner to Sardis; fancying, by this act of injustice, to
clear himself from all former imputations.

But about thirty days after, Alcibiades escaped from his keepers,
and, having got a horse, fled to Clazomenar, where he procured
Tisaphernes additional disgrace by professing he was a party to
his escape. From there he sailed to the Athenian camp, and, being
informed there that Mindarus and Pharnabazus were together at

134 PLUTARCH S LIVES

Cyzicus, he made a speech to the soldiers, telling them that sea-
fighting, land-fighting, and, by the gods, fighting against fortified
cities too, must be all one for them, as, unless they conquered every-
where, there was no money for them. As soon as ever he got them
on ship-board, he hasted to Proconnesus, and gave command to seize
all the small vessels they met, and guard them safely in the interior
of the fleet, that the enemy might have no notice of his coming;
and a great storm of rain, accompanied with thunder and darkness,
which happened at the same time, contributed much to the conceal-
ment of his enterprise. Indeed, it was not only undiscovered by the
enemy, but the Athenians themselves were ignorant of it, for he com-
manded them suddenly on board, and set sail when they had aban-
doned all intention of it. As the darkness presently passed away,
the Peloponnesian fleet were seen riding out at sea in front of the
harbor of Cyzicus. Fearing, if they discovered the number of his
ships, they might endeavor to save themselves by land, he com-
manded the rest of the captains to slacken, and follow him slowly,
whilst he, advancing with forty ships, showed himself to the enemy,
and provoked them to fight. The enemy, being deceived as to their
numbers, despised them, and, supposing they were to contend with
those only, made themselves ready and began the fight. But as
soon as they were engaged, they perceived the other part of the
fleet coming down upon them, at which they were so terrified that
they fled immediately. Upon that, Alcibiades, breaking through the
midst of them with twenty of his best ships, hastened to the shore,
disembarked, and pursued those who abandoned their ships and
fled to land, and made a great slaughter of them. Mindarus and
Pharnabazus, coming to their succor, were utterly defeated. Min-
darus was slain upon the place, fighting valiantly; Pharnabazus
saved himself by flight. The Athenians slew great numbers of their
enemies, won much spoil, and took all their ships. They also made
themselves masters of Cyzicus, which was deserted by Pharnabazus,
and destroyed its Peloponnesian garrison, and thereby not only se-
cured to themselves the Hellespont, but by force drove the Lace-
daemonians from out of all the rest of the sea. They intercepted
some letters written to the ephors, which gave an account of this
fatal overthrow, after their short laconic manner. "Our hopes are

ALCIBIADES 135

at an end. Mindarus is slain. The men starve. We know not
what to do."

The soldiers who followed Alcibiades in this last fight were so
exalted with their success, and felt that degree of pride, that, look-
ing on themselves as invincible, they disdained to mix with the other
soldiers, who had been often overcome. For it happened not long be-
fore, Thrasyllus had received a defeat near Ephesus, and, upon that
occasion, the Ephesians erected their brazen trophy to the disgrace of
the Athenians. The soldiers of Alcibiades reproached those who
were under the command of Thrasyllus with this misfortune, at the
same time magnifying themselves and their own commander, and
it went so far that they would not exercise with them, nor lodge
in the same quarters. But soon after, Pharnabazus, with a great
force of horse and foot, falling upon the soldiers of Thrasyllus, as
they were laying waste the territory of Abydos, Alcibiades came
to their aid, routed Pharnabazus, and, together with Thrasyllus,
pursued him till it was night; and in this action the troops united,
and returned together to the camp, rejoicing and congratulating
one another. The next day he erected a trophy, and then proceeded
to lay waste with fire and sword the whole province which was
under Pharnabazus, where none ventured to resist; and he took
divers priests and priestesses, but released them without ransom.
He prepared next to attack the Chalcedonians, who had revolted
from the Athenians, and had received a Lacedaemonian governor
and garrison. But having intelligence that they had removed their
corn and cattle out of the fields, and were conveying it all to the
Bithynians, who were their friends, he drew down his army to the
frontier of the Bithynians, and then sent a herald to charge them
with this proceeding. The Bithynians, terrified at his approach,
delivered up to him the booty, and entered into alliance with him.

Afterwards he proceeded to the siege of Chalcedon, and en-
closed it with a wall from sea to sea. Pharnabazus advanced with
his forces to raise the siege, and Hippocrates, the governor of the
town, at the same time, gathering together all the strength he
had, made a sally upon the Athenians. Alcibiades divided his
army so as to engage them both at once, and not only forced
Pharnabazus to a dishonorable flight, but defeated Hippocrates,

136 plutarch's lives

and killed him and a number of the soldiers with him. After this
he sailed into the Hellespont, in order to raise supplies of money, and
took the city of Selymbria, in which action, through his precipi-
tation, he exposed himself to great danger. For some within the
town had undertaken to betray it into his hands, and, by agreement,
were to give him a signal by a lighted torch about midnight. But
one of the conspirators beginning to repent himself of the design,
the rest, for fear of being discovered, were driven to give the sig-
nal before the appointed hour. Alcibiades, as soon as he saw the
torch lifted up in the air, though his army was not in readiness to
march, ran instantly towards the walls, taking with him about thirty
men only, and commanding the rest of the army to follow him with
all possible speed. When he came thither, he found the gate opened
for him, and entered with his thirty men, and about twenty more
light-armed men, who were come up to them. They were no sooner
in the city, but he perceived the Selymbrians all armed, coming down
upon him; so that there was no hope of escaping if he stayed to
receive them; and, on the other hand, having been always success-
ful till that day, wherever he commanded, he could not endure to
be defeated and fly. So, requiring silence by sound of a trumpet, he
commanded one of his men to make proclamation that the Selym-
brians should not take arms against the Athenians. This cooled
such of the inhabitants as were fiercest for the fight, for they sup-
posed that all their enemies were within the walls, and it raised
the hopes of others who were disposed to an accommodation.
Whilst they were parleying, and propositions making on one side
and the other, Alcibiades's whole army came up to the town. And
now, conjecturing rightly, that the Selymbrians were well inclined
to peace, and fearing lest the city might be sacked by the Thracians,
who came in great numbers to his army to serve as volunteers, out
of kindness for him, he commanded them all to retreat without
the walls. And upon the submission of the Selymbrians, he saved
them from being pillaged, only taking of them a sum of money,
and, after placing an Athenian garrison in the town, departed.

During this action, the Athenian captains who besieged Chalce-
don concluded a treaty with Pharnabazus upon these articles: That
he should give them a sum of money; that the Chalcedonians

ALCIBIADES I37

should return to the subjection of Athens; and that the Athenians
should make no inroad into the province whereof Pharnabazus was
governor; and Pharnabazus was also to provide safe conducts for
the Athenian ambassadors to the king of Persia. Afterwards, when
Alcibiades returned thither, Pharnabazus required that he also
should be sworn to the treaty; but he refused it, unless Pharnabazus
would swear at the same time. When the treaty was sworn to on
both sides Alcibiades went against the Byzantines, who had re-
volted from the Athenians, and drew a line of circumvallation about
the city. But Anaxilaus and Lycurgus, together with some others,
having undertaken to betray the city to him upon his engagement
to preserve the lives and property of the inhabitants, he caused a
report to be spread abroad, as if, by reason of some unexpected
movement in Ionia, he should be obliged to raise the siege. And,
accordingly, that day he made a show to depart with his whole
fleet; but returned the same night, and went ashore with all his
men at arms, and, silently and undiscovered, marched up to the
walls. At the same time, his ships rowed into the harbor with all
possible violence, coming on with much fury, and with great
shouts and outcries. The Byzantines, thus surprised and astonished,
while they all hurried to the defence of their port and shipping,
gave opportunity to those who favored the Athenians, securely to
receive Alcibiades into the city. Yet the enterprise was not accom-
plished without fighting, for the Peloponnesians, Boeotians, and
Megarians not only repulsed those who came out of the ships, and
forced them on board again, but, hearing that the Athenians were
entered on the other side, drew up in order, and went to meet
them. Alcibiades, however, gained the victory after some sharp
fighting, in which he himself had the command of the right wing,
and Theramenes of the left, and took about three hundred, who
survived of the enemy, prisoners of war. After the battle, not one
of the Byzantines was slain, or driven out of the city, according to
the terms upon which the city was put into his hands, that they
should receive no prejudice in life or property. And thus Anaxi-
laus, being afterwards accused at Lacedaemon for this treason,
neither disowned nor professed to be ashamed of the action; for he
urged that he was not a Lacedaemonian, but a Byzantine, and saw

138 plutarch's lives

not Sparta, by Byzantium, in extreme danger; the city so blockaded
that it was not possible to bring in any new provisions, and the
Peloponnesians and Boeotians, who were in garrison, devouring the
old stores, whilst the Byzantines, with their wives and children,
were starving; that he had not, therefore, betrayed his country to
enemies, but had delivered it from the calamities of war, and had
but followed the example of the most worthy Lacedaemonians, who
esteemed nothing to be honorable and just, but what was profitable
for their country. The Laceda:monians, upon hearing his defence,
respected it, and discharged all that were accused.

And now Alcibiades began to desire to see his native country
again, or rather to show his fellow-citizens a person who had gained
so many victories for them. He set sail for Athens, the ships that
accompanied him, being adorned with great numbers of shields
and other spoils, and towing after them many galleys taken from
the enemy, and the ensigns and ornaments of many others which he
had sunk and destroyed; all of them together amounting to two
hundred. Little credit, perhaps, can be given to what Duris the
Samian, who professed to be descended from Alcibiades, adds, that
Chrysogonus, who had gained a victory at the Pythian games,
played upon his flute for the galleys, whilst the oars kept time with
the music; and that Callippides, the tragedian, attired in his buskins,
his purple robes, and other ornaments used in the theatre, gave the
word to the rowers, and that the admiral galley entered into the
port with a purple sail. Neither Theopompus, nor Ephorus, nor
Xenophon, mentioned them. Nor, indeed, is it credible, that one
who returned from so long an exile, and such variety of misfor-
tunes, should come home to his countrymen in the style of revellers
breaking up from a drinking-party. On the contrary, he entered the
harbor full of fear, nor would he venture to go on shore, till, stand-
ing on the deck, he saw Euryptolemus, his cousin, and others of
his friends and acquaintance, who were ready to receive him, and
invited him to land. As soon as he was landed, the multitude who
came out to meet him scarcely seemed so much as to see any of
the other captains, but came in throngs about Alcibiades, and sa-
luted him with loud acclamations, and still followed him; those
who could press near him crowned him with garlands, and they

ALCIBIADES 1 39

who could not come up so close yet stayed to behold him afar off, and
the old men pointed him out, and showed him to the young ones.
Nevertheless, this public joy was mixed with some tears, and the
present happiness was allayed by the remembrance of the miseries
they had endured. They made reflections, that they could not have
so unfortunately miscarried in Sicily, or been defeated in any of
their other expectations, if they had left the management of their
affairs formerly, and the command of their forces, to Alcibiades,
since, upon his undertaking the administration, when they were in
a manner driven from the sea, and could scarce defend the suburbs
of their city by land, and, at the same time, were miserably dis-
tracted with intestine factions, he had raised them up from this low
and deplorable condition, and had not only restored them to their
ancient dominion of the sea, but had also made them everywhere
victorious over their enemies on land.

There had been a decree for recalling him from his banishment
already passed by the people, at the instance of Critias, the son of
Callaeschrus, as appears by his elegies, in which he puts Alcibi-
ades in mind of this service: —

"From my proposal did that edict come,
Which from your tedious exile brought you home,
The public vote at first was moved by me,
And my voice put the seal to the decree."

The people being summoned to an assembly, Alcibiades came in
amongst them, and first bewailed and lamented his own sufferings,
and, in gentle terms complaining of the usage he had received, im-
puted all to his hard fortune, and some ill genius that attended him:
then he spoke at large of their prospects, and exhorted them to cour-
age and good hope. The people crowned him with crowns of
gold, and created him general, both at land and sea, with absolute
power. They also made a decree that his estate should be restored
to him, and that the Eumolpida: and the holy heralds should ab-
solve him from the curses which they had solemnly pronounced
against him by sentence of the people. Which when all the rest
obeyed, Theodorus, the high-priest, excused himself, "For," said
he, "if he is innocent, I never cursed him."

140 plutarch's lives

But notwithstanding the affairs of Alcibiades went so prosperously,
and so much to his glory, yet many were still somewhat disturbed,
and looked upon the time of his arrival to be ominous. For on the
day that he came into the port, the feast of the goddess Minerva,
which they call the Plynteria, was kept. It is the twenty-fifth day of
Thargelion, when the Praxiergidar solemnize their secret rites, taking
all the ornaments from off her image, and keeping the part of the
temple where it stands close covered. Hence the Athenians esteem
this day most inauspicious, and never undertake any thing of im-
portance upon it; and, therefore, they imagined that the goddess
did not receive Alcibiades graciously and propitiously, thus hiding
her face and rejecting him. Yet, notwithstanding, every thing suc-
ceeded according to his wish. When the one hundred galleys, that
were to return with him, were fitted out and ready to sail, an honor-
able zeal detained him till the celebration of the mysteries was
over. For ever since Decelea had been occupied, as the enemy com-
manded the roads leading from Athens to Eleusis, the procession,
being conducted by sea, had not been performed with any proper
solemnity; they were forced to omit the sacrifices and dances and
other holy ceremonies, which had usually been performed in the
way, when they led forth Iacchus. Alcibiades, therefore, judged it
would be a glorious action, which would do honor to the gods and
gain him esteem with men, if he restored the ancient splendor to
these rites, escorting the procession again by land, and protecting it
with his army in the face of the enemy. For either, if Agis stood
still and did not oppose, it would very much diminish and obscure
his reputation, or, in the other alternative, Alcibiades would engage
in a holy war, in the cause of the gods, and in defence of the most
sacred and solemn ceremonies; and this in the sight of his country,
where he should have all his fellow-citizens witnesses of his valor.
As soon as he had resolved upon this design, and had communicated
it to the Eumolpidac and heralds, he placed sentinels on the tops
of the hills, and at the break of day sent forth his scouts. And then
taking with him the priests and Initiates 6 and the Initiators, and
encompassing them with his soldiers, he conducted them with great
order and profound silence; an august and venerable procession,
' Mystz and MysUgogi.

ALCIBIADES I4I

wherein all who did not envy him said, he performed at once the
office of a high-priest and of a general. The enemy did not dare to
attempt any thing against them, and thus he brought them back in
safety to the city. Upon which, as he was exalted in his own thought,
so the opinion which the people had of his conduct was raised to
that degree, that they looked upon their armies as irresistible and
invincible while he commanded them; and he so won, indeed, upon
the lower and meaner sort of people, that they passionately desired
to have him "tyrant" over them, and some of them did not scruple
to tell him so, and to advise him to put himself out of the reach of
envy, by abolishing the laws and ordinances of the people, and sup-
pressing the idle talkers that were ruining the state, that so he
might act and take upon him the management of affairs, without
standing in fear of being called to an account.

How far his own inclinations led him to usurp sovereign power,
is uncertain, but the most considerable persons in the city were so
much afraid of it, that they hastened him on ship-board as speedily
as they could, appointing the colleagues whom he chose, and allow-
ing him all other things as he desired. Thereupon he set sail with
a fleet of one hundred ships, and, arriving at Andros, he there
fought with and defeated as well the inhabitants as the Lace-
daemonians who assisted them. He did not, however, take the city;
which gave the first occasion to his enemies for all their accusations
against him. Certainly, if ever man was ruined by his own glory,
it was Alcibiades. For his continual success had produced such an
idea of his courage and conduct, that, if he failed in any thing he
undertook, it was imputed to his neglect, and no one would believe
it was through want of power. For they thought nothing was too
hard for him, if he went about it in good earnest. They fancied,
every day, that they should hear news of the reduction of Chios, and
of the rest of Ionia, and grew impatient that things were not ef-
fected as fast and as rapidly as they could wish for them. They
never considered how extremely money was wanting, and that,
having to carry on war with an enemy who had supplies of all
things from a great king, he was often forced to quit his armament,
in order to procure money and provisions for the subsistence of his
soldiers. This it was which gave occasion for the last accusation

I42 PLUTARCH'S LIVES

which was made against him. For Lysander, being sent from Lace-
darmon with a commission to be admiral of their fleet, and being
furnished by Cyrus with a great sum of money, gave every sailor
four obols a day, whereas before they had but three. Alcibiades
could hardly allow his men three obols, and therefore was con-
strained to go into Caria to furnish himself with money. He left
the care of the fleet, in his absence, to Antiochus, an experienced
seaman, but rash and inconsiderate, who had express orders from
Alcibiades not to engage, though the enemy provoked him. But
he slighted and disregarded these directions to that degree, that,
having made ready his own galley and another, he stood for Ephe-
sus, where the enemy lay, and, as he sailed before the heads of their
galleys, used every provocation possible, both in words and deeds.
Lysander at first manned out a few ships, and pursued him. But
all the Athenian ships coming in to his assistance, Lysander, also,
brought up his whole fleet, which gained an entire victory. He
slew Antiochus himself, took many men and ships, and erected
a trophy.

As soon as Alcibiades heard this news, he returned to Samos,
and loosing from thence with his whole fleet, came and offered
battle to Lysander. But Lysander, content with the victory he had
gained, would not stir. Amongst others in the army who hated
Alcibiades, Thrasybulus, the son of Thrason, was his particular
enemy, and went purposely to Athens to accuse him, and to exasper-
ate his enemies in the city against him. Addressing the people, he
represented that Alcibiades had ruined their affairs and lost their
ships by mere self-conceited neglect of his duties, committing the
government of the army, in his absence, to men who gained his
favor by drinking and scurrilous talking, whilst he wandered up
and down at pleasure to raise money, giving himself up to every sort
of luxury and excess amongst the courtesans of Abydos and Ionia, at
a time when the enemy's navy were on the watch close at hand. It
was also objected to him, that he had fortified a castle near Bisanthe
in Thrace, for a safe retreat for himself, as one that either could
not, or would not, live in his own country. The Athenians gave
credit to these informations, and showed the resentment and dis-

ALCIBIADES 143

pleasure which they had conceived against him, by choosing other
generals.

As soon as Alcibiades heard of this, he immediately forsook the
army, afraid of what might follow; and, collecting a body of mer-
cenary soldiers, made war upon his own account against those
Thracians who 'called themselves free, and acknowledged no king.
By this means he amassed to himself a considerable treasure, and,
at the same time, secured the bordering Greeks from the incursions
of the barbarians.

Tydeus, Menander, and Adimantus, the new-made generals, were
at that time posted at jEgospotami, with all the ships which the
Athenians had left. From whence they were used to go out to sea
every morning, and offer battle to Lysander, who lay near Lamp-
sacus; and when they had done so, returning back again, lay, all
the rest of the day, carelessly and without order, in contempt of the
enemy. Alcibiades, who was not far off, did not think so slightly
of their danger, nor neglect to let them know it, but, mounting his
horse, came to the generals, and represented to them that they had
chosen a very inconvenient station, where there was no safe harbor,
and where they were distant from any town; so that they were con-
strained to send for their necessary provisions as far as Sestos. He
also pointed out to them their carelessness in suffering the soldiers,
when they went ashore, to disperse and wander up and down at
their pleasure, while the enemy's fleet, under the command of one
general, and strictly obedient to discipline, lay so very near them.
He advised them to remove the fleet to Sestos. But the admirals not
only disregarded what he said, but Tydeus, with insulting expres-
sions, commanded him to be gone, saying, that now not he, but
others, had the command of the forces. Alcibiades, suspecting some-
thing of treachery in them, departed, and told his friends, who ac-
companied him out of the camp, that if the generals had not used
him with such insupportable contempt, he would within a few days
have forced the Lacedaemonians, however unwilling, either to have
fought the Athenians at sea, or to have deserted their ships. Some
looked upon this as a piece of ostentation only; others said, the
thing was probable, for that he might have brought down by land

144 PLUTARCH S LIVES

great numbers of the Thracian cavalry and archers, to assault and
disorder them in their camp. The event, however, soon made it
evident how rightly he had judged of the errors which the Atheni-
ans committed. For Lysander fell upon them on a sudden, when
they least suspected it, with such fury that Conon alone, with eight
galleys, escaped him; all the rest, which were about two hundred,
he took and carried away, together with three thousand prisoners,
whom he put to death. And within a short time after, he took
Athens itself, burnt all the ships which he found there, and demol-
ished their long walls.

After this Alcibiades, standing in dread of the Lacedemonians,
who were now masters both at sea and land, retired into Bithynia.
He sent thither great treasure before him, took much with him, but
left much more in the castle where he had before resided. But he
lost great part of his wealth in Bithynia, being robbed by some
Thracians who lived in those parts, and thereupon determined to go
to the court of Artaxerxes, not doubting but that the king, if he
would make trial of his abilities, would find him not inferior to
Themistocles, besides that he was recommended by a more honor-
able cause. For he went, not as Themistocles did, to offer his services
against his fellow-citizens, but against their enemies, and to implore
the king's aid for the defence of his country. He concluded that
Pharnabazus would most readily procure him a safe conduct, and
therefore went into Phrygia to him, and continued to dwell there
some time, paying him great respect, and being honorably treated
by him. The Athenians, in the mean time, were miserably afflicted
at their loss of empire, but when they were deprived of liberty also,
and Lysander set up thirty despotic rulers in the city, in their ruin
now they began to turn to those thoughts which, while safety was
yet possible, they would not entertain; they acknowledged and be-
wailed their former errors and follies, and judged this second ill-
usage of Alcibiades to be of all the most inexcusable. For he was
rejected, without any fault committed by himself; and only because
they were incensed against his subordinate for having shamefully
lost a few ships, they much more shamefully deprived the com-
monwealth of its most valiant and accomplished general. Yet in
this sad state of affairs, they had still some faint hopes left them,

ALCIBIADES 1 45

nor would they utterly despair of the Athenian commonwealth,
while Alcibiades was safe. For they persuaded themselves that if
before, when he was an exile, he could not content himself to live
idly and at ease, much less now, if he could find any favorable
opportunity, would he endure the insolence of the Lacedaemonians,
and the outrages of the Thirty. Nor was it an absurd thing in the
people to entertain such imaginations, when the Thirty themselves
were so very solicitous to be informed and to get intelligence of all
his actions and designs. In fine, Critias represented to Lysander that
the Lacedaemonians could never securely enjoy the dominion of
Greece, till the Athenian democracy was absolutely destroyed; and
though now the people of Athens seemed quietly and patiently to
submit to so small a number of governors, yet so long as Alcibiades
lived, the knowledge of this fact would never suffer them to acqui-
esce in their present circumstances.

Yet Lysander would not be prevailed upon by these representa-
tions, till at last he received secret orders from the magistrates of
Lacedaemon, expressly requiring him to get Alcibiades despatched:
whether it was that they feared his energy and boldness in enterpris-
ing what was hazardous, or that it was done to gratify king Agis.
Upon receipt of this order, Lysander sent away a messenger to
Pharnabazus, desiring him to put it in execution. Pharnabazus com-
mitted the affair to Magaeus, his brother, and to his uncle Susa-
mithres. Alcibiades resided at that time in a small village in Phrygia,
together with Timandra, a mistress of his. As he slept, he had this
dream: he thought himself attired in his mistress's habit, and that
she, holding him in her arms, dressed his head and painted his face
as if he had been a woman; others say, he dreamed that he saw
Magarus cut off his head and burn his body; at any rate, it was but
a little while before his death that he had these visions. Those who
were sent to assassinate him had not courage enough to enter the
house, but surrounded it first, and set it on fire. Alcibiades, as soon
as he perceived it, getting together great quantities of clothes and
furniture, threw them upon the fire to choke it, and, having wrapped
his cloak about his left arm, and holding his naked sword in his
right, he cast himself into the middle of the fire, and escaped se-
curely through it, before his clothes were burnt. The barbarians, as

146 plutarch's lives

soon as they saw him, retreated, and none of them durst stay to
expect him, or to engage with him, but, standing at a distance, they
slew him with their darts and arrows. When he was dead, the
barbarians departed, and Timandra took up his dead body, and,
covering and wrapping it up in her own robes, she buried it as
decently and as honorably as her circumstances would allow. It is
said, that the famous Lais, who was called the Corinthian, though
she was a native of Hyccara, a small town in Sicily, from whence
she was brought a captive, was the daughter of this Timandra.
There are some who agree with this account of Alcibiades's death
in all points, except that they impute the cause of it neither to Phar-
nabazus, nor Lysander, nor the Lacedaemonians: but, they say, he
was keeping with him a young lady of a noble house, whom he had
debauched, and that her brothers, not being able to endure the indig-
nity, set fire by night to the house where he was living, and, as he
endeavored to save himself from the flames, slew him with their
darts, in the manner just related.

CORIOLANUS

THE patrician house of the Marcii in Rome produced many
men of distinction, and among the rest, Ancus Marcius,
grandson to Numa by his daughter, and king after Tullus
Hostilius. Of the same family were also Publius and Quintus
Marcius, which two conveyed into the city the best and most abund-
ant supply of water they have at Rome. As likewise Censorinus,
who, having been twice chosen censor by the people, afterwards
himself induced them to make a law that nobody should bear that
office twice. But Caius Marcius, of whom I now write, being left
an orphan, and brought up under the widowhood of his mother, has
shown us by experience, that, although the early loss of a father may
be attended with other disadvantages, yet it can hinder none from
being either virtuous or eminent in the world, and that it is no
obstacle to true goodness and excellence; however bad men may be
pleased to lay the blame of their corruptions upon that misfortune
and the neglect of them in their minority. Nor is he less an evi-
dence to the truth of their opinion, who conceive that a generous
and worthy nature without proper discipline, like a rich soil with-
out culture, is apt, with its better fruits, to produce also much that
is bad and faulty. While the force and vigor of his soul, and a per-
severing constancy in all he undertook, led him successfully into
many noble achievements, yet, on the other side, also, by indulging
the vehemence of his passion, and through an obstinate reluctance
to yield or accommodate his humors and sentiments to those of
people about him, he rendered himself incapable of acting and asso-
ciating with others. Those who saw with admiration how proof
his nature was against all the softnesses of pleasure, the hardships
of service and the allurements of gain, while allowing to that uni-
versal firmness of his the respective names of temperance, fortitude,
and justice, yet, in the life of the citizen and the statesman, could not
choose but be disgusted at the severity and ruggedness of his deport-

•47

148 plutarch's lives

ment, and with his overbearing, haughty, and imperious temper.
Education and study, and the favors of the muses, confer no greater
benefit on those that seek them, than these humanizing and civiliz-
ing lessons, which teach our natural qualities to submit to the limita-
tions prescribed by reason, and to avoid the wildness of extremes.

Those were times at Rome in which that kind of worth was
most esteemed which displayed itself in military achievements; one
evidence of which we find in the Latin word for virtue, which is
properly equivalent to manly courage. As if valor and all virtue
had been the same thing, they used as the common term the name
of the particular excellence. But Marcius, having a more passionate
inclination than any of that age for feats of war, began at once,
from his very childhood, to handle arms; and feeling that adventi-
tious implements and artificial arms would effect little, and be of
small use to such as have not their native and natural weapons well
fixed and prepared for service, he so exercised and inured his body
to all sorts of activity and encounter, that, besides the lightness of
a racer, he had a weight in close seizures and wrestlings with an
enemy, from which it was hard for any to disengage himself; so
that his competitors at home in displays of bravery, loath to own
themselves inferior in that respect, were wont to ascribe their deficien-
cies to his strength of body, which they said no resistance and no
fatigue could exhaust.

The first time he went out to the wars, being yet a stripling, was
when Tarquinius Superbus, who had been king of Rome and was
afterwards expelled, after many unsuccessful attempts, now entered
upon his last effort, and proceeded to hazard all as it were upon a
single throw. A great number of the Latins and other people of
Italy joined their forces, and were marching with him toward the
city, to procure his restoration; not, however, so much out of a desire
to serve and oblige Tarquin, as to gratify their own fear and envy
at the increase of the Roman greatness, which they were anxious to
check and reduce. The armies met and engaged in a decisive battle,
in the vicissitudes of which, Marcius, while fighting bravely in the
dictator's presence, saw a Roman soldier struck down at a little dis-
tance, and immediately stepped in and stood before him, and slew
his assailant. The general, after having gained the victory, crowned

CORIOLANUS 149

him for this act, one of the first, with a garland of oaken branches;
it being the Roman custom thus to adorn those who had saved the
life of a citizen; whether that the law intended some special honor
to the oak, in memory of the Arcadians, a people the oracle had
made famous by the name of acorn-eaters; 1 or whether the reason
of it was because they might easily, and in all places where they
fought, have plenty of oak for that purpose; or, finally, whether
the oaken wreath, being sacred to Jupiter, the guardian of the city,
might, therefore, be thought a proper ornament for one who pre-
served a citizen. And the oak, in truth, is the tree which bears the
most and the prettiest fruit of any that grow wild, and is the strong-
est of all that are under cultivation; its acorns were the principal diet
of the first mortals, and the honey found in it gave them drink. I
may say, too, it furnished fowl and other creatures as dainties, in
producing mistletoe for birdlime to ensnare them. In this battle,
meantime, it is stated that Castor and Pollux appeared, and, imme-
diately after the battle, were seen at Rome just by the fountain where
their temple now stands, with their horses foaming with sweat, and
told the news of the victory to the people in the Forum. The fif-
teenth of July, being the day of this conquest, became consequently
a solemn holiday sacred to the Twin Brothers.

It may be observed, in general, that when young men arrive
early at fame and repute, if they are of a nature but slightly touched
with emulation, this early attainment is apt to extinguish their thirst
and satiate their small appetite; whereas the first distinctions of more
solid and weighty characters do but stimulate and quicken them and
take them away, like a wind, in the pursuit of honor; they look upon
these marks and testimonies to their virtue not as a recompense
received for what they have already done, but as a pledge given by
themselves of what they will perform hereafter, ashamed now to
forsake or underlive the credit they have won, or, rather, not to
exceed and obscure all that is gone before by the lustre of their fol-
lowing actions. Marcius, having a spirit of this noble make, was
ambitious always to surpass himself, and did nothing, how extraor-

1 "You ask me for Arcadia," said the oracle to the Spartans, when designing their
early invasion. "You ask a great thing, I will not grant it. There arc in Arcadia many
acorn-eaters ready to prevent you. I, however, grudge you nothing. I grant you to
dance about Tcgea, and measure out the fair plain by the line."

150 PLUTARCH S LIVES

dinary soever, but he thought he was bound to outdo it at the next
occasion; and ever desiring to give continual fresh instances of his
prowess, he added one exploit to another, and heaped up trophies
upon trophies, so as to make it matter of contest also among his
commanders, the later still vying with the earlier, which should pay
him the greatest honor and speak highest in his commendation. Of
all the numerous wars and conflicts in those days, there was not one
from which he returned without laurels and rewards. And, whereas
others made glory the end of their daring, the end of his glory was
his mother's gladness; the delight she took to hear him praised and
to see him crowned, and her weeping for joy in his embraces, ren-
dered him, in his own thoughts, the most honored and most happy
person in the world. Epaminondas is similarly said to have ac-
knowledged his feeling, that it was the greatest felicity of his whole
life that his father and mother survived to hear of his successful
generalship and his victory at Leuctra. And he had the advantage,
indeed, to have both his parents partake with him, and enjoy the
pleasure of his good fortune. But Marcius, believing himself bound
to pay his mother Volumnia all that gratitude and duty which would
have belonged to his father, had he also been alive, could never
satiate himself in his tenderness and respect to her. He took
a wife, also, at her request and wish, and continued, even after
he had children, to live still with his mother, without parting
families.

The repute of his integrity and courage had, by this time, gained
him a considerable influence and authority in Rome, when the
senate, favoring the wealthier citizens, began to be at variance with
the common people, who made sad complaints of the rigorous and
inhuman usage they received from the money-lenders. For as many
as were behind with them, and had any sort of property, they
stripped of all they had, by the way of pledges and sales; and such
as through former exactions were reduced already to extreme indi-
gence, and had nothing more to be deprived of, these they led away
in person and put their bodies under constraint, notwithstanding the
scars and wounds that they could show in attestation of their pub-
lic services in numerous campaigns; the last of which had been
against the Sabines, which they undertook upon a promise made by

CORIOLANUS 151

their rich creditors that they would treat them with more gentle-
ness for the future, Marcus Valerius, the consul, having, by order
from the senate, engaged also for the performance of it. But when,
after they had fought courageously and beaten the enemy, there
was, nevertheless, no moderation or forbearance used, and the sen-
ate also professed to remember nothing of that agreement, and sat
without testifying the least concern to see them dragged away like
slaves and their goods seized upon as formerly, there began now to
be open disorders and dangerous meetings in the city; and the
enemy, also, aware of the popular confusion, invaded and laid waste
the country. And when the consuls now gave notice, that all who
were of an age to bear arms should make their personal appearance,
but found no one regard the summons, the members of the govern-
ment, then coming to consult what course should be taken, were
themselves again divided in opinion: some thought it most advis-
able to comply a little in favor of the poor, by relaxing their over-
strained rights, and mitigating the extreme rigor of the law, while
others withstood this proposal; Marcius in particular, with more
vehemence than the rest, alleging that the business of money on
either side was not the main thing in question, urged that this dis-
orderly proceeding was but the first insolent step towards open revolt
against the laws, which it would become the wisdom of the gov-
ernment to check at the earliest moment.

There had been frequent assemblies of the whole senate, within
a small compass of time, about this difficulty, but without any certain
issue; the poor commonalty, therefore, perceiving there was likely
to be no redress of their grievances, on a sudden collected in a body,
and, encouraging each other in their resolution, forsook the city with
one accord, and seizing the hill which is now called the Holy
Mount, sat down by the river Anio, without committing any sort of
violence or seditious outrage, but merely exclaiming, as they went
along, that they had this long time past been, in fact, expelled and
excluded from the city by the cruelty of the rich; that Italy would
everywhere afford them the benefit of air and water and a place
of burial, which was all they could expect in the city, unless it were,
perhaps, the privilege of being wounded and killed in time of war
for the defence of their creditors. The senate, apprehending the con-

152 PLUTARCH S LIVES

sequences, sent the most moderate and popular men of their own
order to treat with them.

Menenius Agrippa, their chief spokesman, after much entreaty to
the people, and much plain speaking on behalf of the senate, con-
cluded, at length, with the celebrated fable. "It once happened," he
said, "that all the other members of a man mutinied against the
stomach, which they accused as the only idle, uncontributing part
in the whole body, while the rest were put to hardships and the
expense of much labor to supply and minister to its appetites. The
stomach, however, merely ridiculed the silliness of the members,
who appeared not to be aware that the stomach certainly does receive
the general nourishment, but only to return it again, and redistrib-
ute it amongst the rest. Such is the case," he said, "ye citizens,
between you and the senate. The counsels and plans that are there
duly digested, convey and secure to all of you, your proper benefit
and support."

A reconciliation ensued, the senate acceding to the request of the
people for the annual election of five protectors for those in need of
succor, the same that are now called the tribunes of the people; and
the first two they pitched upon were Junius Brutus and Sicinnius
Vellutus, their leaders in the secession.

The city being thus united, the commons stood presently to their
arms, and followed their commanders to the war with great alacrity.
As for Marcius, though he was not a little vexed himself to see the
populace prevail so far, and gain ground of the senators, and might
observe many other patricians have the same dislike of the late con-
cessions, he yet besought them not to yield at least to the common
people in the zeal and forwardness they now showed for their coun-
try's service, but to prove that they were superior to them, not so
much in power and riches, as in merit and worth.

The Romans were now at war with the Volscian nation, whose
principal city was Corioli; when, therefore, Cominius the consul
had invested this important place, the rest of the Volscians, fearing
it would be taken, mustered up whatever force they could from all
parts, to relieve it, designing to give the Romans battle before the
city, and so attack them on both sides. Cominius, to avoid this in-
convenience, divided his army, marching himself with one body to

CORIOLANUS 153

encounter the Volscians on their approach from without, and leav-
ing Titus Lartius, one of the bravest Romans of his time, to com-
mand the other and continue the siege. Those within Corioli, despis-
ing now the smallness of their number, made a sally upon them,
and prevailed at first, and pursued the Romans into their trenches.
Here it was that Marcius, flying out with a slender company, and
cutting those in pieces that first engaged him, obliged the other
assailants to slacken their speed; and then, with loud cries, called
upon the Romans to renew the battle. For he had, what Cato
thought a great point in a soldier, not only strength of hand and
stroke, but also a voice and look that of themselves were a terror
to an enemy. Divers of his own party now rallying and making up
to him, the enemies soon retreated; but Marcius, not content to see
them draw off and retire, pressed hard upon the rear, and drove
them, as they fled away in haste, to the very gates of their city;
where, perceiving the Romans to fall back from their pursuit, beaten
off by the multitude of darts poured in upon them from the walls,
and that none of his followers had the hardiness to think of falling
in pellmell among the fugitives and so entering a city full of enemies
in arms, he, nevertheless, stood and urged them to the attempt, cry-
ing out, that fortune had now set open Corioli, not so much to
shelter the vanquished, as to receive the conquerors. Seconded by
a few that were willing to venture with him, he bore along through
the crowd, made good his passage, and thrust himself into the gate
through the midst of them, nobody at first daring to resist him. But
when the citizens, on looking about, saw that a very small num-
ber had entered, they now took courage, and came up and attacked
them. A combat ensued of the most extraordinary description, in
which Marcius, by strength of hand, and swiftness of foot, and
daring of soul, overpowering every one that he assailed, succeeded
in driving the enemy to seek refuge, for the most part, in the inte-
rior of the town, while the remainder submitted, and threw down
their arms; thus affording Lartius abundant opportunity to bring
in the rest of the Romans with ease and safety.

Corioli being thus surprised and taken, the greater part of the
soldiers employed themselves in spoiling and pillaging it, while
Marcius indignandy reproached them, and exclaimed that it was a

154 PLUTARCH S LIVES

dishonorable and unworthy thing, when the consul and their fellow-
citizens had now perhaps encountered the other Volscians, and were
hazarding their lives in battle, basely to misspend the time in run-
ning up and down for booty, and, under a pretence of enriching
themselves, keep out of danger. Few paid him any attention, but,
putting himself at the head of these, he took the road by which
the consul's army had marched before him, encouraging his com-
panions, and beseeching them, as they went along, not to give up,
and praying often to the gods, too, that he might be so happy as to
arrive before the fight was over, and come seasonably up to assist
Cominius, and partake in the peril of the action.

It was customary with the Romans of that age, when they were
moving into battle array, and were on the point of taking up their
bucklers, and girding their coats about them, to make at the same
time an unwritten will, or verbal testament, and to name who should
be their heirs, in the hearing of three or four witnesses. In this
precise posture Marcius found them at his arrival, the enemy being
advanced within view.

They were not a little disturbed by his first appearance, seeing
him covered with blood and sweat, and attended with a small train;
but when he hastily made up to the consul with gladness in his
looks, giving him his hand, and recounting to him how the city had
been taken, and when they saw Cominius also embrace and salute
him, every one took fresh heart; those that were near enough hear-
ing, and those that were at a distance guessing, what had happened;
and all cried out to be led to battle. First, however, Marcius de-
sired to know of him how the Volscians had arrayed their army,
and where they had placed their best men, and on his answering that
he took the troops of the Antiates in the centre to be their prime
warriors, that would yield to none in bravery, "Let me then demand
and obtain of you," said Marcius, "that we may be posted against
them." The consul granted the request, with much admiration of
his gallantry. And when the conflict began by the soldiers darting
at each other, and Marcius sallied out before the rest, the Volscians
opposed to him were not able to make head against him; wherever
he fell in, he broke their ranks, and made a lane through them; but
the parties turning again, and enclosing him on each side with

CORIOLANUS 155

their weapons, the consul, who observed the danger he was in,
despatched some of the choicest men he had for his rescue. The
conflict then growing warm and sharp about Marcius, and many
falling dead in a little space, the Romans bore so hard upon the
enemies, and pressed them with such violence, that they forced them
at length to abandon their ground, and to quit the field. And, going
now to prosecute the victory, they besought Marcius, tired out with
his toils, and faint and heavy through the loss of blood, that he
would retire to the camp. He replied, however, that weariness was
not for conquerors, and joined with them in the pursuit. The rest
of the Volscian army was in like manner defeated, great numbers
killed, and no less taken captive.

The day after, when Marcius, with the rest of the army, presented
themselves at the consul's tent, Cominius rose, and having rendered
all due acknowledgment to the gods for the success of that enter-
prise, turned next to Marcius, and first of all delivered the strongest
encomium upon his rare exploits, which he had partly been an eye-
witness of himself, in the late battle, and had partly learned from
the testimony of Lartius. And then he required him to choose a
tenth part of all the treasure and horses and captives that had fallen
into their hands, before any division should be made to others; be-
sides which, he made him the special present of a horse with trap-
pings and ornaments, in honor of his actions. The whole army
applauded; Marcius, however, stepped forth, and declaring his
thankful acceptance of the horse, and his gratification at the praises
of his general, said, that all other things, which he could only regard
rather as mercenary advantages than any significations of honor, he
must waive, and should be content with the ordinary proportion
of such rewards. "I have only," said he, "one special grace to beg,
and this I hope you will not deny me. There was a certain hospitable
friend of mine among the Volscians, a man of probity and virtue,
who is become a prisoner, and from former wealth and freedom
is now reduced to servitude. Among his many misfortunes let my
intercession redeem him from the one of being sold as a common
slave." Such a refusal and such a request on the part of Marcius
were followed with yet louder acclamations; and he had many more
admirers of this generous superiority to avarice, than of the bravery

156 plutarch's lives

he had shown in battle. The very persons who conceived some envy
and despite to see him so specially honored, could not but acknowl-
edge, that one who so nobly could refuse reward, was beyond others
worthy to receive it; and were more charmed with that virtue
which made him despise advantage, than with any of those former
actions that had gained him his title to it. It is the higher accom-
plishment to use money well than to use arms; but not to need it
is more noble than to use it.

When the noise of approbation and applause ceased, Cominius,
resuming, said, "It is idle, fellow-soldiers, to force and obtrude those
other gifts of ours on one who is unwilling to accept them; let us,
therefore, give him one of such a kind that he cannot well reject it;
let us pass a vote, I mean, that he shall hereafter be called Coriolanus,
unless you think that his performance at Corioli has itself antici-
pated any such resolution." Hence, therefore, he had his third name
of Coriolanus, making it all the plainer that Caius was a personal
proper name, and the second, or surname, Marcius, one common
to his house and family; the third being a subsequent addition which
used to be imposed either from some particular act or fortune, bodily
characteristic, or good quality of the bearer. Just as the Greeks, too,
gave additional names in old time, in some cases from some achieve-
ment, Soter, for example, and Callinicus; or personal appearance,
as Physcon and Grypus; good qualities, Euergetes and Philadelphus;
good fortune, Eudarmon, the title of the second Battus. 1 Several
monarchs have also had names given them in mockery, as Antigo-
nus was called Doson, and Ptolemy, Lathyrus. This sort of title
was yet more common among the Romans. One of the Metelli was
surnamed Diadematus, because he walked about for a long time
with a bandage on his head, to conceal a scar; and another, of the
same family, got the name of Celer, from the rapidity he displayed
in giving a funeral entertainment of gladiators within a few days
after his father's death, his speed and energy in doing which was
thought extraordinary. There are some, too, who even at this day
take names from certain casual incidents at their nativity; a child
that is born when his father is away from home is called Proculus;

2 Soter, Saviour; Callinicus, Victorious: Physcon, Fat-paunch; Grypus, Hook-nose;
Euergetes, Benefactor; Philadelphus, Brotherly; Eudzmon, Fortunate; Doson, Going-
to-give; Lathyrus is not certain.

CORIOLANUS 157

or Postumus, if after his decease; and when twins come into the
world, and one dies at the birth, the survivor has the name of Vopis-
cus. From bodily peculiarities they derive not only their Syllas and
Nigers, but their Card and Claudii; wisely endeavoring to accustom
their people not to reckon either the loss of sight, or any other bodily
misfortune, as a matter of disgrace to them, but to answer to such
names without shame, as if they were really their own. But this
discussion better befits another place.

The war against the Volscians was no sooner at an end, than the
popular orators revived domestic troubles, and raised another sedi-
tion, without any new cause of complaint or just grievance to pro-
ceed upon, but merely turning the very mischiefs that unavoidably
ensued from their former contests into a pretext against the patri-
cians. The greatest part of their arable land had been left unsown
and without tillage, and the time of war allowing them no means or
leisure to import provision from other countries, there was an ex-
treme scarcity. The movers of the people then observing, that there
was no corn to be bought, and that, if there had been, they had no
money to buy it, began to calumniate the wealthy with false stories,
and whisper it about, as if they, out of malice, had purposely con-
trived the famine. Meanwhile, there came an embassy from the
Velitrani, proposing to deliver up their city to the Romans, and
desiring they would send some new inhabitants to people it, as a
late pestilential disease had swept away so many of the natives, that
there was hardly a tenth part remaining of their whole community.
This necessity of the Velitrani was considered by all more prudent
people as most opportune in the present state of affairs; since the
dearth made it needful to ease the city of its superfluous members,
and they were in hope also, at the same time, to dissipate the gather-
ing sedition by ridding themselves of the more violent and heated
partisans, and discharging, so to say, the elements of disease and
disorder in the state. The consuls, therefore, singled out such citizens
to supply the desolation at Velitra?, and gave notice to others, that
they should be ready to march against the Volscians, with the politic
design of preventing intestine broils by employment abroad, and in
the hope, that when rich as well as poor, plebeians and patricians,
should be mingled again in the same army and the same camp, and

158 plutarch's lives

engage in one common service for the public, it would mutually
dispose them to reconciliation and friendship.

But Sicinnius and Brutus, the popular orators, interposed, crying
out, that the consuls disguised the most cruel and barbarous action
in the world under that mild and plausible name of a colony, and
were simply precipitating so many poor citizens into a mere pit of
destruction, bidding them settle down in a country where the air
was charged with disease, and the ground covered with dead bodies,
and expose themselves to the evil influence of a strange and angered
deity. And then, as if it would not satisfy their hatred to destroy
some by hunger, and offer others to the mercy of a plague, they must
proceed to involve them also in a needless war of their own making,
that no calamity might be wanting to complete the punishment of
the citizens for refusing to submit to that of slavery to the rich.

By such addresses, the people were so possessed, that none of
them would appear upon the consular summons to be enlisted for
the war; and they showed entire aversion to the proposal for a new
plantation; so that the senate was at a loss what to say or do. But
Marcius, who began now to bear himself higher and to feel con-
fidence in his past actions, conscious, too, of the admiration of the
best and greatest men of Rome, openly took the lead in opposing
the favorers of the people. The colony was despatched to Velitrae,
those that were chosen by lot being compelled to depart upon high
penalties; and when they obstinately persisted in refusing to enroll
themselves for the Volscian service, he mustered up his own clients,
and as many others as could be wrought upon by persuasion, and
with these made an inroad into the territories of the Antiates, where,
finding a considerable quantity of corn, and collecting much booty,
both of cattle and prisoners, he reserved nothing for himself in
private, but returned safe to Rome, while those that ventured out
with him were seen laden with pillage, and driving their prey before
them. This sight filled those that had stayed at home with regret
for their perverseness, with envy at their fortunate fellow-citizens,
and with feelings of dislike to Marcius, and hostility to his grow-
ing reputation and power, which might probably be used against the
popular interest.

Not long after he stood for the consulship; when, however, the

CORIOLANUS 159

people began to relent and incline to favor him, being sensible what
a shame it would be to repulse and affront a man of his birth and
merit, after he had done them so many signal services. It was usual
for those who stood for offices among them to solicit and address
themselves personally to the citizens, presenting themselves in the
forum with the toga on alone, and no tunic under it; either to pro-
mote their supplications by the humility of their dress, or that such
as had received wounds might more readily display those marks of
their fortitude. Certainly, it was not out of suspicion of bribery and
corruption that they required all such petitioners for their favor to
appear ungirt and open, without any close garment; as it was much
later, and many ages after this, that buying and selling crept in at
their elections, and money became an ingredient in the public suf-
frages; proceeding thence to attempt their tribunals, and even attack
their camps, till, by hiring the valiant, and enslaving iron to silver,
it grew master of the state and turned their commonwealth into a
monarchy. For it was well and truly said that the first destroyer of
the liberties of a people is he who first gave them bounties and
largesses. At Rome the mischief seems to have stolen secretly in,
and by little and little, not being at once discerned and taken notice
of. It is not certainly known who the man was that did there first
either bribe the citizens, or corrupt the courts; whereas, in Athens,
Anytus, the son of Anthemion, is said to have been the first that
gave money to the judges, when on his trial, toward the latter end
of the Peloponnesian war, for letting the fort of Pylos fall into the
hands of the enemy; in a period while the pure and golden race of
men were still in possession of the Roman forum.

Marcius, therefore, as the fashion of candidates was showing the
scars and gashes that were still visible on his body, from the many
conflicts in which he had signalized himself during a service of
seventeen years together they were, so to say, put out of countenance
at this display of merit, and told one another that they ought in
common modesty to create him consul. But when the day of elec-
tion was now come, and Marcius appeared in the forum, with a
pompous train of senators attending him, and the patricians all
manifested greater concern, and seemed to be exerting greater efforts
than they had ever done before on the like occasion, the commons

160 plutarch's lives

then fell off again from the kindness they had conceived for him, and
in the place of their late benevolence, began to feel something of
indignation and envy; passions assisted by the fear they entertained,
that if a man of such aristocratic temper, and so influential among
the patricians, should be invested with the power which that office
would give him, he might employ it to deprive the people of all
that liberty which was yet left them. In conclusion, they rejected
Marcius. Two other names were announced, to the great mortifica-
tion of the senators, who felt as if the indignity reflected rather upon
themselves than on Marcius. He, for his part, could not bear the
affront with any patience. He had always indulged his temper, and
had regarded the proud and contentious element of human nature as
a sort of nobleness and magnanimity; reason and discipline had not
imbued him with that solidity and equanimity which enters so
largely into the virtues of the statesman. He had never learned how
essential it is for any one who undertakes public business, and de-
sires to deal with mankind, to avoid above all things that self-will,
which, as Plato says, belongs to the family of solitude; and to pur-
sue, above all things, that capacity so generally ridiculed, of sub-
mission to ill-treatment. Marcius, straightforward and direct, and
possessed with the idea that to vanquish and overbear all opposition
is the true part of bravery, and never imagining that it was the
weakness and womanishness of his nature that broke out, so to say,
in these ulcerations of anger, retired, full of fury and bitterness
against the people. The young patricians, too, all that were proud-
est and most conscious of their noble birth, had always been devoted
to his interest, and, adhering to him now, with a fidelity that did
him no good, aggravated his resentment with the expression of their
indignation and condolence. He had been their captain, and their
willing instructor in the arts of war, when out upon expeditions,
and their model in that true emulation and love of excellence which
makes men extol, without envy or jealousy, each other's brave
achievements.

In the midst of these distempers a large quantity of corn reached
Rome, a great part bought up in Italy, but an equal amount sent as
a present from Syracuse, from Gelo, then reigning there. Many
began now to hope well of their affairs, supposing the city, by this

CORIOLANUS l6l

means, would be delivered at once, both of its want and discord.
A council, therefore, being presently held, the people came flocking
about the senate-house, eagerly awaiting the issue of that delibera-
tion, expecting that the market-prices would now be less cruel, and
that what had come as a gift would be distributed as such. There
were some within who so advised the senate; but Marcius, standing
up, sharply inveighed against those who spoke in favor of the multi-
tude, calling them flatterers of the rabble, traitors to the nobility,
and alleging, that, by such gratifications, they did but cherish those
ill seeds of boldness and petulance that had been sown among the
people, to their own prejudice, which they should have done well
to observe and stifle at their first appearance, and not have suffered
the plebeians to grow so strong, by granting them magistrates of
such authority as the tribunes. They were, indeed, even now formid-
able to the state, since every thing they desired was granted them;
no constraint was put on their will; they refused obedience to the
consuls, and, overthrowing all law and magistracy, gave the title of
magistrate to their private factious leaders. "When things are come
to such a pass, for us to sit here and decree largesses and bounties
for them, like those Greeks where the populace is supreme and abso-
lute, what would it be else," said he, "but to take their disobedience
into pay, and maintain it for the common ruin of us all ? They cer-
tainly cannot look upon these liberalities as a reward of public
service, which they know they have so often deserted; nor yet of
those secessions, by which they openly renounced their country;
much less of the calumnies and slanders they have been always so
ready to entertain against the senate; but will rather conclude that
a bounty which seems to have no other visible cause or reason, must
needs be the effect of our fear and flattery; and will, therefore, set
no limit to their disobedience, nor ever cease from disturbances and
sedition. Concession is mere madness; if we have any wisdom and
resolution at all, we shall, on the contrary, never rest till we have
recovered from them that tribunician power they have extorted from
us; as being a plain subversion of the consulship, and a perpetual
ground of separation in our city, that is no longer one, as heretofore,
but has in this received such a wound and rupture, as is never likely
to close and unite again, or suffer us to be of one mind, and to give

1 62 plutarch's lives

over inflaming our distempers, and being a torment to each other."
Marcius, with much more to this purpose, succeeded, to an
extraordinary degree, in inspiring the younger men with the same
furious sentiments, and had almost all the wealthy on his side, who
cried him up as the only person their city had, superior alike to
force and flattery; some of the older men, however, opposed him,
suspecting the consequences. As, indeed, there came no good of it;
for the tribunes, who were present, perceiving how the proposal of
Marcius took, ran out into the crowd with exclamations, calling on
the plebeians to stand together, and come in to their assistance. The
assembly met and soon became tumultuous. The sum of what
Marcius had spoken, having been reported to the people, excited
them to such fury, that they were ready to break in upon the
senate. The tribunes prevented this, by laying all the blame on
Coriolanus, whom, therefore, they cited by their messengers to
come before them, and defend himself. And when he contemptu-
ously repulsed the officers who brought him the summons, they came
themselves, with the ^Ediles, or overseers of the market, proposing
to carry him away by force, and, accordingly, began to lay hold on
his person. The patricians, however, coming to his rescue, not only
thrust off the tribunes, but also beat the iEdiles, that were their sec-
onds in the quarrel; night, approaching, put an end to the contest.
But as soon as it was day, the consuls, observing the people to be
highly exasperated, and that they ran from all quarters and gathered
in the forum, were afraid for the whole city, so that, convening the
senate afresh, they desired them to advise how they might best com-
pose and pacify the incensed multitude by equitable language and
indulgent decrees; since, if they wisely considered the state of
things, they would find that it was no time to stand upon terms of
honor, and a mere point of glory; such a critical conjuncture called
for gentle methods, and for temperate and humane counsels. The
majority, therefore, of the senators giving way, the consuls proceeded
to pacify the people in the best manner they were able, answering
gently to such imputations and charges as had been cast upon the
senate, and using much tenderness and moderation in the admoni-
tions and reproofs they gave them. On the point of the price of
provisions, they said, there should be no difference at all between

CORIOLANUS 163

them. When a great part of the commonalty was grown cool, and
it appeared from their orderly and peaceful behavior that they had
been very much appeased by what they had heard, the tribunes,
standing up, declared, in the name of the people, that since the senate
was pleased to act soberly and do them reason, they, likewise, should
be ready to yield in all that was fair and equitable on their side;
they must insist, however, that Marcius should give in his answer
to the several charges as follows: first, could he deny that he insti-
gated the senate to overthrow the government and annul the privi-
leges of the people? and, in the next place, when called to account
for it, did he not disobey their summons? and, lastly, by the blows
and other public affronts to the jEdiles, had he not done all he
could to commence a civil war?

These articles were brought in against him, with a design either
to humble Marcius, and show his submission, if, contrary to his
nature, he should now court and sue the people; or, if he should
follow his natural disposition, which they rather expected from their
judgment of his character, then that he might thus make the breach
final between himself and the people.

He came, therefore, as it were, to make his apology, and clear
himself; in which belief the people kept silence, and gave him a
quiet hearing. But when, instead of the submissive and deprecatory
language expected from him, he began to use not only an offensive
kind of freedom, seeming rather to accuse than apologize, but, as
well by the tone of his voice as the air of his countenance, displayed
a security that was not far from disdain and contempt of them, the
whole multitude then became angry, and gave evident signs of
impatience and disgust; and Sicinnius, the most violent of the trib-
unes, after a little private conference with his colleagues, proceeded
solemnly to pronounce before them all, that Marcius was condemned
to die by the tribunes of the people, and bid the iEdiles take him to
the Tarpeian rock, and without delay throw him headlong from the
precipice. When they, however, in compliance with the order, came
to seize upon his body, many, even of the plebeian party, felt it to
be a horrible and extravagant act; the patricians, meantime, wholly
beside themselves with distress and horror, hurried up with cries
to the rescue; and while some made actual use of their hands to

164 plutarch's lives

hinder the arrest, and,surrounding Marcius, got him in among them,
others, as in so great a tumult no good could be done by words,
stretched out theirs, beseeching the multitude that they would not
proceed to such furious extremities; and at length, the friends and
acquaintance of the tribunes, wisely perceiving how impossible it
would be to carry off Marcius to punishment without much blood-
shed and slaughter of the nobility, persuaded them to forbear every
thing unusual and odious; not to despatch him by any sudden vio-
lence, or without regular process, but refer the cause to the general
suffrage of the people. Sicinnius then, after a little pause, turning
to the patricians, demanded what their meaning was, thus forcibly
to rescue Marcius out of the people's hands, as they were going to
punish him; when it was replied by them, on the other side, and
the question put, "Rather, how came it into your minds, and what
is it you design, thus to drag one of the worthiest men of Rome,
without trial, to a barbarous and illegal execution?" "Very well,"
said Sicinnius, "you shall have no ground in this respect for quarrel
or complaint against the people. The people grant your request, and
your partisan shall be tried. We appoint you, Marcius," directing
his speech to him, "the third market-day ensuing, to appear and
defend yourself, and to try if you can satisfy the Roman citizens of
your innocence, who will then judge your case by vote." The patri-
cians were content with such a truce and respite for that time, and
gladly returned home, having for the present brought off Marcius
in safety.

During the interval before the appointed time (for the Romans
hold their sessions every ninth day, which from that cause are called
nundince in Latin), a war fell out with the Antiates, likely to be of
some continuance, which gave them hope they might one way or
other elude the judgment. The people, they presumed, would be-
come tractable, and their indignation lessen and languish by degrees
in so long a space, if occupation and war did not wholly put it out
of their mind. But when, contrary to expectation, they made a
speedy agreement with the people of Antium, and the army came
back to Rome, the patricians were again in great perplexity, and
had frequent meetings to consider how things might be arranged,
without either abandoning Marcius, or yet giving occasion to the

CORIOLANUS 165

popular orators to create new disorders. Appius Claudius, whom
they counted among the senators most averse to the popular interest,
made a solemn declaration, and told them beforehand, that the
senate would utterly destroy itself and betray the government, if
they should once suffer the people to assume the authority of pro-
nouncing sentence upon any of the patricians; but the oldest sen-
ators and most favorable to the people maintained, on the other side,
that the people would not be so harsh and severe upon them, as
some were pleased to imagine, but rather become more gentle and
humane upon the concession of that power, since it was not con-
tempt of the senate, but the impression of being contemned by it,
which made them pretend to such a prerogative. Let that be once
allowed them as a mark of respect and kind feeling, and the mere
possession of this power of voting would at once dispossess them of
their animosity.

When, therefore, Marcius saw that the senate was in pain and
suspense upon his account, divided, as it were, betwixt their kind-
ness for him and their apprehensions from the people, he desired
to know of the tribunes what the crimes were they intended to
charge him with, and what the heads of the indictment they would
oblige him to plead to before the people; and being told by them
that he was to be impeached for attempting usurpation, and that
they would prove him guilty of designing to establish arbitrary gov-
ernment, stepping forth upon this, "Let me go then," he said, "to
clear myself from that imputation before an assembly of them; I
freely offer myself to any sort of trial, nor do I refuse any kind of
punishment whatsoever; only," he continued, "let what you now
mention be really made my accusation, and do not you play false
with the senate." On their consenting to these terms, he came to his
trial. But when the people met together, the tribunes, contrary to
all former practice, extorted first, that votes should be taken, not by
centuries, but tribes; a change, by which the indigent and factious
rabble, that had no respect for honesty and justice, would be sure
to carry it against those who were rich and well known, and accus-
tomed to serve the state in war. In the next place, whereas they had
engaged to prosecute Marcius upon no other head but that of
tyranny, which could never be made out against him, they relin-

1 66 plutarch's lives

quished this plea, and urged instead, his language in the senate
against an abatement of the price of corn, and for the overthrow
of the tribunician power; adding further, as a new impeachment
the distribution that was made by him of the spoil and booty he had
taken from the Antiates, when he overran their country, which he
had divided among those that had followed him, whereas it ought
rather to have been brought into the public treasury; which last
accusation did, they say, more discompose Marcius than all the rest,
as he had not anticipated he should ever be questioned on that sub-
ject, and, therefore, was less provided with any satisfactory answer
to it on the sudden. And when, by way of excuse, he began to mag-
nify the merits of those who had been partakers with him in the
action, those that had stayed at home, being more numerous than
the other, interrupted him with outcries. In conclusion, when they
came to vote, a majority of three tribes condemned him; the penalty
being perpetual banishment. The sentence of his condemnation
being pronounced, the people went away with greater triumph and
exultation than they had ever shown for any victory over enemies;
while the senate was in grief and deep dejection, repenting now
and vexed to the soul that they had not done and suffered all things
rather than give way to the insolence of the people, and permit them
to assume and abuse so great an authority. There was no need
then to look at men's dresses, or other marks of distinction,to know
one from another: any one who was glad was, beyond all doubt, a
plebeian; any one who looked sorrowful, a patrician.

Marcius alone, himself, was neither stunned nor humiliated. In
mien, carriage, and countenance, he bore the appearance of entire
composure, and while all his friends were full of distress, seemed
the only man that was not touched with his misfortune. Not that
either reflection taught him, or gentleness of temper made it natural
for him, to submit: he was wholly possessed, on the contrary, with
a profound and deep-seated fury, which passes with many for no
pain at all. And pain, it is true, transmuted, so to say, by its own
fiery heat into anger, loses every appearance of depression and feeble-
ness; the angry man makes a show of energy, as the man in a high
fever does of natural heat, while, in fact, all this action of the soul
is but mere diseased palpitation, distention, and inflammation. That

CORIOLANUS 167

such was his distempered state appeared presently plainly enough
in his actions. On his return home, after saluting his mother and
his wife, who were all in tears and full of loud lamentations, and
exhorting them to moderate the sense they had of his calamity, he
proceeded at once to the city gates, whither all the nobility came to
attend him; and so, not so much as taking any thing with him, or
making any request to the company, he departed from them, having
only three or four clients with him. He continued solitary for a few
days in a place in the country, distracted with a variety of counsels,
such as rage and indignation suggested to him; and proposing to
himself no honorable or useful end, but only how he might best
satisfy his revenge on the Romans, he resolved at length to raise up
a heavy war against them from their nearest neighbors. He deter-
mined, first to make trial of the Volscians, whom he knew to be still
vigorous and flourishing, both in men and treasure, and he imagined
their force and power was not so much abated, as their spite and
anger increased, by the late overthrows they had received from the
Romans.

There was a man of Antium, called Tullus Aufidius, who, for
his wealth and bravery and the splendor of his family, had the
respect and privilege of a king among the Volscians, but whom
Marcius knew to have a particular hostility to himself, above all
other Romans. Frequent menaces and challenges had passed in
battle between them, and those exchanges of defiance to which their
hot and eager emulation is apt to prompt young soldiers had added
private animosity to their national feelings of opposition. Yet for all
this, considering Tullus to have a certain generosity of temper, and
knowing that no Volscian, so much as he, desired an occasion to
requite upon the Romans the evils they had done, he did what
much confirms the saying, that

"Hard and unequal is with wrath the strife,
Which makes us buy its pleasure with our life."

Putting on such a dress as would make him appear to any whom he
might meet most unlike what he really was, thus, like Ulysses, —

"The town he entered of his mortal foes."

1 68 plutarch's lives

His arrival at Antium was about evening, and though several met
him in the streets, yet he passed along without being known to any,
and went directly to the house of Tullus, and, entering undiscovered,
went up to the fire-hearth, and seated himself there without speak-
ing a word, covering up his head. Those of the family could not
but wonder, and yet they were afraid either to raise or question
him, for there was a certain air of majesty both in his posture and
silence, but they recounted to Tullus, being then at supper, the
strangeness of this accident. He immediately rose from table and
came in, and asked him who he was, and for what business he came
thither; and then Marcius, unmuffling himself, and pausing awhile,
"If," said he, "you cannot yet call me to mind, Tullus, or do not
believe your eyes concerning me, I must of necessity be my own
accuser. I am Caius Marcius, the author of so much mischief to
the Volscians; of which, were I seeking to deny it, the surname of
Coriolanus I now bear would be sufficient evidence against me.
The one recompense I received for all the hardships and perils I
have gone through, was the title that proclaims my enmity to your
nation, and this is the only thing which is still left me. Of all other
advantages, I have been stripped and deprived by the envy and out-
rage of the Roman people, and the cowardice and treachery of the
magistrates and those of my own order. I am driven out as an exile,
and become an humble suppliant at your hearth, not so much for
safety and protection (should I have come hither, had I been afraid
to die?), as to seek vengeance against those that expelled me; which,
methinks, I have already obtained, by putting myself into your
hands. If, therefore, you have really a mind to attack your enemies,
come then, make use of that affliction you see me in to assist the
enterprise, and convert my personal infelicity into a common bless-
ing to the Volscians; as, indeed, I am likely to be more serviceable
in fighting for than against you, with the advantage, which I now
possess, of knowing all the secrets of the enemy that I am attacking.
But if you decline to make any further attempts, I am neither de-
sirous to live myself, nor will it be well in you to preserve a person
who has been your rival and adversary of old, and now, when he
offers you his service, appears unprofitable and useless to you."
Tullus on hearing this, was extremely rejoiced, and giving him his

CORIOLANUS 169

right hand, exclaimed, "Rise, Marcius, and be of good courage; it
is a great happiness you bring to Antium, in the present you make
us of yourself; expect every thing that is good from the Volscians."
He then proceeded to feast and entertain him with every display
of kindness, and for several days after they were in close delibera-
tion together on the prospects of a war.

While this design was forming, there were great troubles and
commotions at Rome, from the animosity of the senators against the
people, heightened just now by the late condemnation of Marcius.
Besides that, their soothsayers and priests, and even private persons,
reported signs and prodigies not to be neglected; one of which is
stated to have occurred as follows: Titus Latinus, 5 a man of ordi-
nary condition, but of a quiet and virtuous character, free from all
superstitious fancies, and yet more from vanity and exaggeration,
had an apparition in his sleep, as if Jupiter came and bade him tell
the senate, that it was with a bad and unacceptable dancer that they
had headed his procession. Having beheld the vision, he said, he
did not much attend to it at the first appearance; but after he had
seen and slighted it a second and third time, he had lost a hopeful
son, and was himself struck with a palsy. He was brought into the
senate on a litter to tell this, and the story goes, that he had no
sooner delivered his message there, but he at once felt his strength
return, and got upon his legs, and went home alone, without need
of any support. The senators, in wonder and surprise, made a
diligent search into the matter. That which his dream alluded to
was this: some citizen had, for some heinous offence, given up a
servant of his to the rest of his fellows, with charge to whip him
first through the market, and then to kill him; and while they were
executing this command, and scourging the wretch, who screwed
and turned himself into all manner of shapes and unseemly mo-
tions, through the pain he was in, the solemn procession in honor of
Jupiter chanced to follow at their heels. Several of the attendants
on which were, indeed, scandalized at the sight, yet no one of them
interfered, or acted further in the matter than merely to utter some
common reproaches and execrations on a master who inflicted so

3 The correct name is probably Titus Latinius, for which Tiberius Atinius, in Livy,
is merely a misreading.

170 PLUTARCH S LIVES

cruel a punishment. For the Romans treated their slaves with great
humanity in these times, when, working and laboring themselves
and living together among them they naturally were more gentle
and familiar with them. It was one of the severest punishments for
a slave who had committed a fault, to have to take the piece of
wood which supports the pole of a wagon, and carry it about
through the neighborhood; a slave who had once undergone the
shame of this, and been thus seen by the household and the neigh-
bors, had no longer any trust or credit among them, and had the
name of furcifer; furca being the Latin word for a prop, or support.
When, therefore, Latinus had related his dream, and the senators
were considering who this disagreeable and ungainly dancer could
be, some of the company, having been struck with the strangeness
of the punishment, called to mind and mentioned the miserable
slave who was lashed through the streets and afterward put to death.
The priests, when consulted confirmed the conjecture; the master
was punished; and orders given for a new celebration of the pro-
cession and the spectacles in honor of the god. Numa, in other
respects also a wise arranger of religious offices, would seem to have
been especially judicious in his direction, with a view to the attentive-
ness of the people, that, when the magistrates or priests performed
any divine worship, a herald should go before, and proclaim with
a loud voice, Hoc age. Do this you are about, and so warn them to
mind whatever sacred action they were engaged in, and not suffer
any business or worldly avocation to disturb and interrupt it; most
of the things which men do of this kind, being in a manner forced
from them, and effected by constraint. It is usual with the Romans
to recommence their sacrifices and processions and spectacles, not
only upon such a cause as this, but for any slighter reason. If but
one of the horses which drew the chariots called Tensx, upon which
the images of their gods were placed, happened to fail and falter,
or if the driver took hold of the reins with his left hand, they would
decree that the whole operation should commence anew; and, in
latter ages, one and the same sacrifice was performed thirty times
over, because of the occurrence of some defect or mistake or accident
in the service. Such was the Roman reverence and caution in
religious matters.

CORIOLANUS 171

Marcius and Tullus were now secretly discoursing of their project
with the chief men of Antium, advising them to invade the Romans
while they were at variance among themselves. And when shame
appeared to hinder them from embracing the motion, as they had
sworn to a truce and cessation of arms for the space of two years,
the Romans themselves soon furnished them with a pretence, by
making proclamation, out of some jealousy or slanderous report, in
the midst of the spectacles, that all the Volscians who had come to
see them should depart the city before sunset. Some affirm that
this was a contrivance of Marcius, who sent a man privately to the
consuls, falsely to accuse the Volscians of intending to fall upon
the Romans during the games, and to set the city on fire. This
public affront roused and inflamed their hostility to the Romans;
and Tullus, perceiving it, made his advantage of it, aggravating the
fact, and working on their indignation, till he persuaded them, at
last, to despatch ambassadors to Rome, requiring the Romans to
restore that part of their country and those towns which they had
taken from the Volscians in the late war. When the Romans heard
the message, they indignantly replied, that the Volscians were the
first that took up arms, but the Romans would be the last to lay
them down. This answer being brought back, Tullus called a gen-
eral assembly of the Volscians; and the vote passing for a war, he
then proposed that they should call in Marcius, laying aside the
remembrance of former grudges, and assuring themselves that the
services they should now receive from him as a friend and associate,
would abundantly outweigh any harm or damage he had done them
when he was their enemy. Marcius was accordingly summoned,
and having made his entrance, and spoken to the people, won their
good opinion of his capacity, his skill, counsel, and boldness, not less
by his present words than by his past actions. They joined him in
commission with Tullus, to have full power as general of their
forces in all that related to the war. And he, fearing lest the time
that would be requisite to bring all the Volscians together in full
preparation might be so long as to lose him the opportunity of
action, left order with the chief persons and magistrates of the city
to provide other things, while he himself, prevailing upon the most
forward to assemble and march out with him as volunteers

172 PLUTARCH S LIVES

without staying to be enrolled, made a sudden inroad into the
Roman confines, when nobody expected him, and possessed himself
of so much booty, that the Volscians found they had more than
they could either carry away or use in the camp. The abundance of
provision which he gained, and the waste and havoc of the country
which he made, were, however, of themselves and in his account, the
smallest results of that invasion; the great mischief he intended, and
his special object in all, was to increase at Rome the suspicions enter-
tained of the patricians, and to make them upon worse terms with
the people. With this view, while spoiling all the fields and destroy-
ing the property of other men, he took special care to preserve their
farms and lands untouched, and would not allow his soldiers to
ravage there, or seize upon any thing which belonged to them.
From hence their invectives and quarrels against one another broke
out afresh, and rose to a greater height than ever; the senators re-
proaching those of the commonalty with their late injustice to Mar-
cius; while the plebeians, on their side, did not hesitate to accuse
them of having, out of spite and revenge, solicited him to this enter-
prise, and thus, when others were involved in the miseries of a war
by their means, they sat like unconcerned spectators, as being fur-
nished with a guardian and protector abroad of their wealth and
fortunes, in the very person of the public enemy. After this incur-
sion and exploit, which was of great advantage to the Volscians, as
they learned by it to grow more hardy and to contemn their enemy,
Marcius drew them off, and returned in safety.

But when the whole strength of the Volscians was brought to-
gether into the field, with great expedition and alacrity, it appeared
so considerable a body, that they agreed to leave part in garrison,
for the security of their towns, and with the other part to march
against the Romans. Marcius now desired Tullus to choose which
of the two charges would be most agreeable to him. Tullus an-
swered, that since he knew Marcius to be equally valiant with him-
self, and far more fortunate, he would have him take the command
of those that were going out to the war, while he made it his care
to defend their cities at home, and provide all conveniences for the
army abroad. Marcius thus reinforced, and much stronger than
before, moved first towards the city called Circaeum, a Roman

CORIOLANUS 173

colony. He received its surrender, and did the inhabitants no injury;
passing thence, he entered and laid waste the country of the Latins,
where he expected the Romans would meet him, as the Latins were
their confederates and allies, and had often sent to demand succors
from them. The people, however, on their part, showing little incli-
nation for the service, and the consuls themselves being unwilling
to run the hazard of a battle, when the time of their office was almost
ready to expire, they dismissed the Latin ambassadors without any
effect; so that Marcius, finding no army to oppose him, marched
up to their cities, and, having taken by force Toleria, Lavici, Peda,
and Bola, all of which offered resistance, not only plundered their
houses, but made a prey likewise of their persons. Meantime, he
showed particular regard for all such as came over to his party, and,
for fear they might sustain any damage against his will, encamped
at the greatest distance he could, and wholly abstained from the
lands of their property.

After, however, that he had made himself master of Bola, a town
not above ten miles from Rome, where he found great treasure, and
put almost all the adults to the sword; and when, on this, the other
Volscians that were ordered to stay behind and protect their cities,
hearing of his achievements and success, had not patience to remain
any longer at home, but came hastening in their arms to Marcius,
saying that he alone was their general and the sole commander they
would own; with all this, his name and renown spread throughout
all Italy, and universal wonder prevailed at the sudden and mighty
revolution in the fortunes of two nations which the loss and the
accession of a single man had effected.

All at Rome was in great disorder; they were utterly averse from
fighting, and spent their whole time in cabals and disputes and
reproaches against each other; until news was brought that the
enemy had laid close siege to Lavinium, where were the images and
sacred things of their tutelar gods, and from whence they derived
the origin of their nation, that being the first city which .<Eneas
built in Italy. These tidings produced a change as universal as it
was extraordinary in the thoughts and inclinations of the people,
but occasioned a yet stranger revulsion of feeling among the patri-
cians. The people now were for repealing the sentence against

174 PLUTARCH S LIVES

Marcius, and calling him back into the city; whereas the senate,
being assembled to preconsider the decree, opposed and finally re-
jected the proposal, either out of the mere humor of contradicting
and withstanding the people in whatever they should desire, or
because they were unwilling, perhaps, that he should owe his resto-
ration to their kindness; or having now conceived a displeasure
against Marcius himself, who was bringing distress upon all alike,
though he had not been ill treated by all, and was become a declared
enemy to his whole country, though he knew well enough that the
principal and all the better men condoled with him, and suffered
in his injuries.

This resolution of theirs being made public, the people could
proceed no further, having no authority to pass any thing by suf-
frage, and enact it for a law, without a previous decree from the
senate. When Marcius heard of this, he was more exasperated than
ever, and, quitting the siege of Lavinium, marched furiously towards
Rome, and encamped at a place called the Cluilian ditches, about
five miles from the city. The nearness of his approach did, indeed,
create much terror and disturbance, yet it also ended their dissen-
sions for the present; as nobody now, whether consul or senator,
durst any longer contradict the people in their design of recalling
Marcius; but, seeing their women running affrighted up and down
the streets, and the old men at prayer in every temple with tears and
supplications, and that, in short, there was a general absence among
them both of courage and wisdom to provide for their own safety,
they came at last to be all of one mind, that the people had been
in the right to propose as they did a reconciliation with Marcius,
and that the senate was guilty of a fatal error to begin a quarrel
with him when it was a time to forget offences, and they should
have studied rather to appease him. It was therefore, unanimously
agreed by all parties, that ambassadors should be despatched, offer-
ing him return to his country, and desiring he would free them from
the terrors and distresses of the war. The persons sent by the senate
with this message were chosen out of his kindred and acquaintance,
who naturally expected a very kind reception at their first interview,
upon the score of that relation and their old familiarity and friend-
ship with him; in which, however, they were much mistaken. Being

CORIOLANUS 175

led through the enemy's camp, they found him sitting in state
amidst the chief men of the Volscians, looking insupportably proud
and arrogant. He bade them declare the cause of their coming,
which they did in the most gentle and tender terms, and with a
behavior suitable to their language. When they had made an end
of speaking, he returned them a sharp answer, full of bitterness and
angry resentment, as to what concerned himself, and the ill usage
he had received from them; but as general of the Volscians, he
demanded restitution of the cities and the lands which had been
seized upon during the late war, and that the same rights and
franchises should be granted them at Rome, which had been before
accorded to the Latins; since there could be no assurance that a
peace would be firm and lasting, without fair and just conditions on
both sides. He allowed them thirty days to consider and resolve.
The ambassadors being departed, he withdrew his forces out of
the Roman territory. This, those of the Volscians who had long
envied his reputation, and could not endure to see the influence he
had with the people, laid hold of, as the first matter of complaint
against him. Among them was also Tullus himself, not for any
wrong done him personally by Marcius, but through the weakness
incident to human nature. He could not help feeling mortified to
find his own glory thus totally obscured, and himself overlooked
and neglected now by the Volscians, who had so great an opinion
of their new leader, that he alone was all to them, while other cap-
tains, they thought, should be content with that share of power,
which he might think fit to accord. From hence the first seeds of
complaint and accusation were scattered about in secret, and the
malcontents met and heightened each other's indignation, saying,
that to retreat as he did, was in effect to betray and deliver up,
though not their cities and arms, yet what was as bad, the critical
times and opportunities for action, on which depend the preserva-
tion or the loss of every thing else; since in less than thirty days'
space, for which he had given a respite from the war, there might
happen the greatest changes in the world. Yet Marcius spent not
any part of the time idly, but attacked the confederates of the enemy,
ravaged their land, and took from them seven great and populous
cities in that interval. The Romans, in the meanwhile, durst not

176 plutarch's lives

venture out to their relief; but were utterly fearful, and showed no
more disposition or capacity for action, than if their bodies had been
struck with a palsy, and become destitute of sense and motion. But
when the thirty days were expired, and Marcius appeared again
with his whole army, they sent another embassy to beseech him
that he would moderate his displeasure, and would withdraw the
Volscian army, and then make any proposals he thought best for
both parties; the Romans would make no concessions to menaces,
but if it were his opinion that the Volscians ought to have any favor
shown them, upon laying down their arms they might obtain all
they could in reason desire.

The reply of Marcius was, that he should make no answer to this
as general of the Volscians, but, in the quality still of a Roman
citizen, he would advise and exhort them, as the case stood, not to
carry it so high, but think rather of just compliance, and return to
him, before three days were at an end, with a ratification of his
previous demands; otherwise, they must understand that they
could not have any further freedom of passing through his camp
upon idle errands.

When the ambassadors were come back, and had acquainted the
senate with the answer, seeing the whole state now threatened as it
were by a tempest, and the waves ready to overwhelm them, they
were forced, as we say in extreme perils, to let down the sacred
anchor. A decree was made, that the whole order of their priests,
those who initiated in the mysteries or had the custody of them,
and those who, according to the ancient practice of the country,
divined from birds, should all and every one of them go in full pro-
cession to Marcius with their pontifical array, and the dress and
habit which they respectively used in their several functions, and
should urge him, as before, to withdraw his forces, and then treat
with his countrymen in favor of the Volscians. He consented so
far, indeed, as to give the deputation an admittance into his camp,
but granted nothing at all, nor so much as expressed himself more
mildly; but, without capitulating or receding, bade them once for
all choose whether they would yield or fight, since the old terms
were the only terms of peace. When this solemn application proved
ineffectual, the priests, too, returning unsuccessful, they determined

CORIOLANUS 177

to sit still within the city, and keep watch about their walls, intend-
ing only to repulse the enemy, should he offer to attack them, and
placing their hopes chiefly in time and in extraordinary accidents
of fortune; as to themselves, they felt incapable of doing any thing
for their own deliverance; mere confusion and terror and ill-boding
reports possessed the whole city; till at last a thing happened not
unlike what we so often find represented, without, however, being
accepted as true by people in general, in Homer. On some great
and unusual occasion we find him say: —

"But him the blue-eyed goddess did inspire;"
and elsewhere: —

"But some immortal turned my mind away,
To think what others of the deed would say;"

and again: —

"Were 't his own thought or were 't a god's command."

People are apt, in such passages, to censure and disregard the poet,
as if, by the introduction of mere impossibilities and idle fictions,
he were denying the action of a man's own deliberate thought and
free choice; which is not, in the least, the case in Homer's repre-
sentation, where the ordinary, probable, and habitual conclusions
that common reason leads to are continually ascribed to our own
direct agency. He certainly says frequently enough: —

"But I consulted with my own great soul;"
or, as in another passage: —

"He spoke. Achilles, with quick pain possessed,
Revolved two purposes in his strong breast;"

and in a third: —

" — Yet never to her wishes won
The just mind of the brave Bellerophon."

But where the act is something out of the way and extraordinary,
and seems in a manner to demand some impulse of divine posses-
sion and sudden inspiration to account for it, here he does intro-
duce divine agency, not to destroy, but to prompt the human will;

178 plutarch's lives

not to create in us another agency, but offering images to stimulate
our own; images that in no sort or kind make our action involun-
tary, but give occasion rather to spontaneous action, aided and sus-
tained by feelings of confidence and hope. For either we must
totally dismiss and exclude divine influences from every kind of
causality and origination in what we do, or else what other way can
we conceive in which divine aid and cooperation can act? Certainly
we cannot suppose that the divine beings actually and literally turn
our bodies and direct our hands and our feet this way or that, to
do what is right: it is obvious that they must actuate the practical
and elective element of our nature, by certain initial occasions, by
images presented to the imagination, and thoughts suggested to the
mind, such either as to excite it to, or avert and withhold it from,
any particular course.

In the perplexity which I have described, the Roman women
went, some to other temples, but the greater part, and the ladies
of highest rank, to the altar of Jupiter Capitolinus. Among these
suppliants was Valeria, sister to the great Poplicola, who did the
Romans eminent service both in peace and war. Poplicola himself
was now deceased, as is told in the history of his life; but Valeria
lived still, and enjoyed great respect and honor at Rome, her life
and conduct no way disparaging her birth. She, suddenly seized
with the sort of instinct or emotion of mind which I have described,
and happily lighting, not without divine guidance, on the right
expedient, both rose herself, and bade the others rise, and went
directly with them to the house of Volumnia, the mother of Marcius.
And coming in and finding her sitting with her daughter-in-law,
and with her little grandchildren on her lap, Valeria, then sur-
rounded by her female companions, spoke in the name of them all: —

"We that now make our appearance, O Volumnia, and you,
Vergilia, are come as mere women to women, not by direction of
the senate, or an order from the consuls, or the appointment of any
other magistrate; but the divine being himself, as I conceive, moved
to compassion by our prayers, prompted us to visit you in a body,
and request a thing on which our own and the common safety de-
pends, and which, if you consent to it, will raise your glory above
that of the daughters of the Sabines, who won over their fathers

CORIOLANUS 179

and their husbands from mortal enmity to peace and friendship.
Arise and come with us to Marcius; join in our supplication, and
bear for your country this true and just testimony on her behalf:
that notwithstanding the many mischiefs that have been done her,
yet she has never outraged you, nor so much as thought of treating
you ill, in all her resentment, but does now restore you safe into his
hands, though there be small likelihood she should obtain from him
any equitable terms."

The words of Valeria were seconded by the acclamations of the
other women, to which Volumnia made answer: —

"I and Vergilia, my countrywomen, have an equal share with you
all in the common miseries, and we have the additional sorrow,
which is wholly ours, that we have lost the merit and good fame of
Marcius, and see his person confined, rather than protected, by the
arms of the enemy. Yet I account this the greatest of all misfortunes,
if indeed the affairs of Rome be sunk to so feeble a state as to have
their last dependence upon us. For it is hardly imaginable he should
have any consideration left for us, when he has no regard for the
country which he was wont to prefer before his mother and wife
and children. Make use, however, of our service; and lead us, if
you please, to him; we are able, if nothing more, at least to spend
our last breath in making suit to him for our country."

Having spoken thus, she took Vergilia by the hand, and the
young children, and so accompanied them to the Volscian camp.
So lamentable a sight much affected the enemies themselves, who
viewed them in respectful silence. Marcius was then sitting in his
place, with his chief officers about him, and, seeing the party of
women advance toward him, wondered what should be the matter;
but perceiving at length that his mother was at the head of them,
he would fain have hardened himself in his former inexorable
temper, but, overcome by his feelings, and confounded at what he
saw, he did not endure they should approach him sitting in state,
but came down hastily to meet them, saluting his mother first, and
embracing her a long time, and then his wife and children, sparing
neither tears nor caresses, but suffering himself to be borne away
and carried headlong, as it were, by the impetuous violence of his
passion.

180 plutarch's lives

When he had satisfied himself, and observed that his mother
Volumnia was desirous to say something, the Volscian council being
first called in, he heard her to the following effect: "Our dress and
our very persons, my son, might tell you, though we should say
nothing ourselves, in how forlorn a condition we have lived at home
since your banishment and absence from us; and now consider with
yourself, whether we may not pass for the most unfortunate of all
women, to have that sight, which should be the sweetest that we
could see, converted, through I know not what fatality, to one of
all others the most formidable and dreadful, — Volumnia to behold
her son, and Vergilia her husband, in arms against the walls of
Rome. Even prayer itself, whence others gain comfort and relief
in all manner of misfortunes, is that which most adds to our con-
fusion and distress; since our best wishes are inconsistent with
themselves, nor can we at the same time petition the gods for
Rome's victory and your preservation, but what the worst of our
enemies would imprecate as a curse, is the very object of our vows.
Your wife and children are under the sad necessity, that they must
either be deprived of you, or of their native soil. As for myself, I
am resolved not to wait till war shall determine this alternative for
me; but if I cannot prevail with you to prefer amity and concord to
quarrel and hostility, and to be the benefactor to both parties, rather
than the destroyer of one of them, be assured of this from me, and
reckon steadfastly upon it, that you shall not be able to reach your
country, unless you trample first upon the corpse of her that brought
you into life. For it will be ill in me to wait and loiter in the world
till the day come wherein I shall see a child of mine, either led in
triumph by his own countrymen, or triumphing over them. Did I
require you to save your country by ruining the Volscians, then, I
confess, my son, the case would be hard for you to solve. It is base
to bring destitution on our fellow-citizens; it is unjust to betray those
who have placed their confidence in us. But, as it is, we do but
desire a deliverance equally expedient for them and us: only more
glorious and honorable on the Volscian side, who as superior in
arms, will be thought freely to bestow the two greatest of blessings,
peace and friendship, even when they themselves receive the same.
If we obtain these, the common thanks will be chiefly due to you

CORIOLANUS l8l

as the principal cause; but if they be not granted, you alone must
expect to bear the blame from both nations. The chance of all war
is uncertain, yet thus much is certain in the present, that you, by
conquering Rome, will only get the reputation of having undone
your country; but if the Volscians happen to be defeated under your
conduct, then the world will say, that, to satisfy a revengeful humor,
you brought misery on your friends and patrons."

Marcius listened to his mother while she spoke, without answer-
ing her a word; and Volumnia, seeing him stand mute also for a
long time after she had ceased, resumed: "O my son," said she,
"what is the meaning of this silence ? Is it a duty to postpone every
thing to a sense of injuries, and wrong to gratify a mother in a
request like this? Is it the characteristic of a great man to remember
wrongs that have been done him, and not the part of a great and
good man to remember benefits such as those that children receive
from parents, and to requite them with honor and respect? You,
methinks, who are so relentless in the punishment of the ungrateful,
should not be more careless than others to be grateful yourself. You
have punished your country already; you have not yet paid your
debt to me. Nature and religion, surely, unattended by any con-
straint, should have won your consent to petitions so worthy and
so just as these; but if it must be so, I will even use my last resource."
Having said this, she threw herself down at his feet, as did also his
wife and children; upon which Marcius, crying out, "O, mother!
what is it you have done to me?" raised her up from the ground,
and pressing her right hand with more than ordinary vehemence,
"You have gained a victory," said he, "fortunate enough for the
Romans, but destructive to your son; whom you, though none else,
have defeated." After which, and a little private conference with his
mother and his wife, he sent them back again to Rome, as they
desired of him.

The next morning, he broke up his camp, and led the Volscians
homeward, variously affected with what he had done; some of them
complaining to him and condemning his act, others, who were
inclined to a peaceful conclusion, unfavorable to neither. A third
party, while much disliking his proceedings, yet could not look
upon Marcius as a treacherous person, but thought it pardonable in

1 82 plutarch's lives

him to be thus shaken and driven to surrender at last, under such
compulsion. None, however, opposed his commands; they all
obediently followed him, though rather from admiration of his vir-
tue, than any regard they now had to his authority. The Roman
people, meantime, more effectually manifested how much fear and
danger they had been in while the war lasted, by their deportment
after they were freed from it. Those that guarded the walls had no
sooner given notice that the Volscians were dislodged and drawn
off, but they set open all their temples in a moment, and began to
crown themselves with garlands and prepare for sacrifice, as they
were wont to do upon tidings brought of any signal victory. But
the joy and transport of the whole city was chiefly remarkable in
the honors and marks of affection paid to the women, as well by
the senate as the people in general; every one declaring that they
were, beyond all question, the instruments of the public safety. And
the senate having passed a decree that whatsoever they would ask
in the way of any favor or honor should be allowed and done for
them by the magistrates, they demanded simply that a temple might
be erected to Female Fortune, the expense of which they offered to
defray out of their own contributions, if the city would be at the
cost of sacrifices, and other matters pertaining to the due honor of
the gods, out of the common treasury. The senate, much com-
mending their public spirit, caused the temple to be built and a
statue set up in it at the public charge; they, however, made up a
sum among themselves, for a second image of Fortune, which
the Romans say uttered, as it was putting up, words to this effect,
"Blessed of the gods, O women, is your gift."

These words they profess were repeated a second time, expecting
our belief for what seems pretty nearly an impossibility. It may
be possible enough, that statues may seem to sweat, and to run with
tears, and to stand with certain dewy drops of a sanguine color;
for timber and stones are frequently known to contract a kind of
scurf and rottenness productive of moisture; and various tints may
form on the surfaces, both from within and from the action of the
air outside; and by these signs it is not absurd to imagine that the
deity may forewarn us. It may happen, also, that images and

CORIOLANUS 183

statues may sometimes make a noise not unlike that of a moan or
groan, through a rupture or violent internal separation of the parts;
but that an articulate voice and such express words, and language
so clear and exact and elaborate, should proceed from inanimate
things, is, in my judgment, a thing utterly out of possibility. For
it was never known that either the soul of man, or the deity him-
self, uttered vocal sounds and language, alone, without an organized
body and members fitted for speech. But where history seems in
a manner to force our assent by the concurrence of numerous and
credible witnesses, we are to conclude that an impression distinct
from sensation affects the imaginative part of our nature, and then
carries away the judgment, so as to believe it to be a sensation:
just as in sleep we fancy we see and hear, without really doing
either. Persons, however, whose strong feelings of reverence to the
deity, and tenderness for religion, will not allow them to deny or in-
validate any thing of this kind, have certainly a strong argument
for their faith, in the wonderful and transcendent character of the
divine power; which admits no manner of comparison with ours,
either in its nature or its action, the modes or the strength of its
operations It is no contradiction to reason that it should do things
that we cannot do, and effect what for us is impracticable: differing
from us in all respects, in its acts yet more than in other points we
may well believe it to be unlike us and remote from us. Knowledge
of divine things for the most part, as Heraclitus says, is lost to us
by incredulity.

When Marcius came back to Antium, Tullus, who thoroughly
hated and greatly feared him, proceeded at once to contrive how
he might immediately despatch him; as, if he escaped now, he was
never likely to give him such another advantage. Having, therefore,
got together and suborned several partisans against him, he re-
quired Marcius to resign his charge, and give the Volscians an ac-
count of his administration. He, apprehending the danger of a
private condition, while Tullus held the office of general and exer-
cised the greatest power among his fellow-citizens, made answer,
that he was ready to lay down his commission, whenever those
from whose common authority he had received it, should think fit

184 plutarch's lives

to recall it, and that in the mean time he was ready to give the
Antiates satisfaction, as to all particulars of his conduct, if they were
desirous of it.

An assembly was called, and popular speakers, as had been con-
certed, came forward to exasperate and incense the multitude; but
when Marcius stood up to answer, the more unruly and tumultuous
part of the people became quiet on a sudden, and out of reverence
allowed him to speak without the least disturbance; while all the
better people, and such as were satisfied with a peace, made it evi-
dent by their whole behavior, that they would give him a favor-
able hearing, and judge and pronounce according to equity.

Tullus, therefore, began to dread the issue of the defence he was
going to make for himself; for he was an admirable speaker, and
the former services he had done the Volscians had procured and
still preserved for him greater kindness than could be outweighed
by any blame for his late conduct. Indeed, the very accusation itself
was a proof and testimony of the greatness of his merits, since peo-
ple could never have complained or thought themselves wronged,
because Rome was not brought into their power, but that by his
means they had come so near to taking it. For these reasons, thei
conspirators judged it prudent not to make any further delays, nor
to test the general feeling; but the boldest of their faction, crying
out that they ought not to listen to a traitor, nor allow him still to
retain office and play the tyrant among them, fell upon Marcius in
a body, and slew him there, none of those that were present offering
to defend him. But it quickly appeared that the action was in no-
wise approved by the majority of the Volscians, who hurried out
of their several cities to show respect to his corpse; to which they
gave honorable interment, adorning his sepulchre with arms and
trophies, as the monument of a noble hero and a famous general.
When the Romans heard tidings of his death, they gave no other
signification either of honor or of anger towards him, but simply
granted the request of the women, that they might put themselves
into mourning and bewail him for ten months, as the usage was
upon the loss of a father or a son or a brother; that being the period
fixed for the longest lamentation by the laws of Numa Pompilius,
as is more amply told in the account of him.

CORIOLANUS 185

Marcius was no sooner deceased, but the Volscians felt the need
of his assistance. They quarrelled first with the /Equians, their con-
federates and their friends, about the appointment of the general of
their joint forces, and carried their dispute to the length of blood-
shed and slaughter; and were then defeated by the Romans in a
pitched battle, where not only Tullus lost his life, but the principal
flower of their whole army was cut in pieces; so that they were
forced to submit and accept of peace upon very dishonorable terms,
becoming subjects of Rome, and pledging themselves to submission.

COMPARISON OF ALCIBIADES
WITH CORIOLANUS

HAVING described all their actions that seem to deserve
commemoration, their military ones, we may say, incline
the balance very decidedly upon neither side. They both,
in pretty equal measure, displayed on numerous occasions the daring
and courage of the soldier, and the skill and foresight of the gen-
eral; unless, indeed, the fact that Alcibiades was victorious and
successful in many contests both by sea and land, ought to gain him
the title of a more complete commander. That so long as they
remained and held command in their respective countries, they
eminently sustained, and when they were driven into exile, yet more
eminently damaged the fortunes of those countries, is common to
both. All the sober citizens felt disgust at the petulance, the low
flattery, and base seductions which Alcibiades, in his public life,
allowed himself to employ with the view of winning the people's
favor; and the ungraciousness, pride, and oligarchical haughtiness
which Marcius, on the other hand, displayed in his, were the ab-
horrence of the Roman populace. Neither of these courses can be
called commendable; but a man who ingratiates himself by indul-
gence and flattery, is hardly so censurable as one who, to avoid
the appearance of flattering, insults. To seek power by servility to
the people is a disgrace, but to maintain it by terror, violence, and
oppression, is not a disgrace only, but an injustice.

Marcius, according to our common conceptions of his character,
was undoubtedly simple and straightforward; Alcibiades, unscrupu-
lous as a public man, and false. He is more especially blamed for
the dishonorable and treacherous way in which, as Thucydides re-
lates, he imposed upon the Lacedaemonian ambassadors, and dis-
turbed the continuance of the peace. Yet this policy, which engaged
the city again in war, nevertheless placed it in a powerful and

1 86

ALCIBIADES AND CORIOLANUS 187

formidable position, by the accession, which Alcibiades obtained for
it, of the alliance of Argos and Mantinea. And Coriolanus also,
Dionysius relates, used unfair means to excite war between the
Romans and the Volscians, in the false report which he spread
about the visitors at the Games; and the motive of this action seems
to make it the worse of the two; since it was not done, like the other,
out of ordinary political jealousy, strife, and competition. Simply
to gratify anger, from which, as Ion says, no one ever yet got any
return, he threw whole districts of Italy into confusion, and sacri-
ficed to his passion against his country numerous innocent cities. It
is true, indeed, that Alcibiades also, by his resentment, was the oc-
casion of great disasters to his country, but he relented as soon as
he found their feelings to be changed; and after he was driven out a
second time, so far from taking pleasure in the errors and inadver-
tencies of their commanders, or being indifferent to the danger
they were thus incurring, he did the very thing that Aristides is so
highly commended for doing to Themistodes: he came to the gen-
erals who were his enemies, and pointed out to them what they
ought to do. Coriolanus, on the other hand, first of all attacked
the whole body of his countrymen, though only one portion of them
had done him any wrong, while the other, the better and nobler por-
tion, had actually suffered, as well as sympathized, with him. And,
secondly, by the obduracy with which he resisted numerous em-
bassies and supplications, addressed in propitiation of his single
anger and offence, he showed that it had been to destroy and over-
throw, not to recover and regain his country, that he had excited
bitter and implacable hostilities against it. There is, indeed, one
distinction that may be drawn. Alcibiades, it may be said, was not
safe among the Spartans, and had the inducements at once of fear
and of hatred to lead him again to Athens; whereas Marcius could
not honorably have left the Volscians, when they were behaving
so well to him: he, in the command of their forces and the enjoy-
ment of their entire confidence, was in a very different position from
Alcibiades, whom the Lacedaemonians did not so much wish to
adopt into their service, as to use, and then abandon. Driven about
from house to house in the city, and from general to general in
the camp, the latter had no resort but to place himself in the hands

1 88 plutarch's lives

of Tisaphernes; unless, indeed, we are to suppose that his object in
courting favor with him was to avert the entire destruction of his
native city, whither he wished himself to return.

As regards money, Alcibiades, we are told, was often guilty of
procuring it by accepting bribes, and spent it ill in luxury and dissi-
pation. Coriolanus declined to receive it, even when pressed upon
him by his commanders as an honor; and one great reason for the
odium he incurred with the populace in the discussions about their
debts was, that he trampled upon the poor, not for money's sake, but
out of pride and insolence.

Antipater, in a letter written upon the death of Aristotle the
philosopher, observes, "Amongst his other gifts he had that of per-
suasiveness"; and the absence of this in the character of Marcius
made all his great actions and noble qualities unacceptable to those
whom they benefited: pride, and self-will, the consort, as Plato calls
it, of solitude, made him insufferable. With the skill which Alcibi-
ades, on the contrary, possessed to treat every one in the way most
agreeable to him, we cannot wonder that all his successes were at-
tended with the most exuberant favor and honor; his very errors, at
times, being accompanied by something of grace and felicity. And
so, in spite of great and frequent hurt that he had done the city,
he was repeatedly appointed to office and command; while Corio-
lanus stood in vain for a place which his great services had made
his due. The one, in spite of the harm he occasioned, could not
make himself hated, nor the other, with all the admiration he
attracted, succeed in being beloved by his countrymen.

Coriolanus, moreover, it should be said, did not as a general
obtain any successes for his country, but only for his enemies
against his country. Alcibiades was often of service to Athens, both
as a soldier and as a commander. So long as he was personally
present, he had the perfect mastery of his political adversaries;
calumny only succeeded in his absence. Coriolanus was condemned
in person at Rome; and in like manner killed by the Volscians, not
indeed with any right or justice, yet not without some pretext occa-
sioned by his own acts; since, after rejecting all conditions of peace
in public, in private he yielded to the solicitations of the women,
and, without establishing peace, threw up the favorable chances of

ALCIBIADES AND CORIOLANUS 189

war. He ought, before retiring, to have obtained the consent of
those who had placed their trust in him; if indeed he considered
their claims on him to be the strongest. Or, if we say that he did not
care about the Volscians, but merely had prosecuted the war, which
he now abandoned, for the satisfaction of his own resentment, then
the noble thing would have been, not to spare his country for his
mother's sake, but his mother in and with his country; since both
his mother and his wife were part and parcel of that endangered
country. After harshly repelling public supplications, the entreaties
of ambassadors, and the prayers of priests, to concede all as a private
favor to his mother was less an honor to her than a dishonor to the
city which thus escaped, in spite, it would seem, of its own demerits,
through the intercession of a single woman. Such a grace could,
indeed, seem merely invidious, ungracious, and unreasonable in
the eyes of both parties; he retreated without listening to the per-
suasions of his opponents, or asking the consent of his friends. The
origin of all lay in his unsociable, supercilious, and self-willed dis-
position, which, in all cases, is offensive to most people; and when
combined with a passion for distinction, passes into absolute sav-
ageness and mercilessness. Men decline to ask favors of the people,
professing not to need any honors from them; and then are indig-
nant if they do not obtain them. Metellus, Aristides, and Epami-
nondas certainly did not beg favors of the multitude; but that was
because they, in real truth, did not value the gifts which a popular
body can either confer or refuse; and when they were more than
once driven into exile, rejected at elections, and condemned in courts
of justice, they showed no resentment at the ill-humor of their
fellow-citizens, but were willing and contented to return and be
reconciled when the feeling altered and they were wished for. He
who least likes courting favor, ought also least to think of resenting
neglect: to feel wounded at being refused a distinction can only
arise from an overweening appetite to have it.

Alcibiades never professed to deny that it was pleasant to him to
be honored, and distasteful to him to be overlooked; and, accord-
ingly, he always tried to place himself upon good terms with all
that he met; Coriolanus's pride forbade him to pay attentions to
those who could have promoted his advancement, and yet his love

I90 PLUTARCH S LIVES

of distinction made him feel hurt and angry when he was disre-
garded. Such are the faulty parts of his character, which in all
other respects was a noble one. For his temperance, continence, and
probity, he might claim to be compared with the best and purest of
the Greeks; not in any sort or kind with Alcibiades, the least scrupu
lous and most entirely careless of human beings in all these points.

DEMOSTHENES

WHOEVER it was, Sosius, that wrote the poem in honor
of Alcibiades, upon his winning the chariot-race at the
Olympian Games, whether it were Euripides, as is most
commonly thought, or some other person, he tells us, that to a
man's being happy it is in the first place requisite he should be born
in "some famous city." But for him that would attain to true happi-
ness, which for the most part is placed in the qualities and disposi-
tion of the mind, it is, in my opinion, of no other disadvantage to
be of a mean, obscure country, than to be born of a small or plain-
looking woman. For it were ridiculous to think that Iulis, a little
part of Ceos, which itself is no great island, and iEgina, which an
Athenian once said ought to be removed, like a small eye-sore,
from the port of Pirarus, should breed good actors and poets, 1 and
yet should never be able to produce a just, temperate, wise, and
high-minded man. Other arts, whose end it is to acquire riches or
honor, are likely enough to wither and decay in poor and undis-
tinguished towns; but virtue, like a strong and durable plant, may
take root and thrive in any place where it can lay hold of an
ingenuous nature, and a mind that is industrious. I, for my part,
shall desire that for any deficiency of mine in right judgment or
action, I myself may be, as in fairness, held accountable, and shall
not attribute it to the obscurity of my birthplace.

But if any man undertake to write a history, that has to be col-
lected from materials gathered by observation and the reading of
works not easy to be got in all places, nor written always in his
own language, but many of them foreign and dispersed in other
hands, for him, undoubtedly, it is in the first place and above all
things most necessary, to reside in some city of good note, addicted
to liberal arts, and populous; where he may have plenty of all sorts

1 Simonidcs, the lyric poet, was born at Iulis in Ceos: and Polus, the celebrated
actor, who is mentioned in the account, further on, of Demosthenes's death, was a
native of y£gina.

191

192 PLUTARCH S LIVES

of books, and upon inquiry may hear and inform himself of such
particulars as, having escaped the pens of writers, are more faith-
fully preserved in the memories of men, lest his work be deficient
in many things, even those which it can least dispense with.

But for me, I live in a little town, where I am willing to con-
tinue, lest it should grow less; and having had no leisure, while I
was in Rome and other parts of Italy, to exercise myself in the
Roman language, on account of public business and of those who
came to be instructed by me in philosophy, it was very late, and in
the decline of my age, before I applied myself to the reading of
Latin authors. Upon which that which happened to me, may seem
strange, though it be true; for it was not so much by the knowl-
edge of words, that I came to the understanding of things, as by
my experience of things I was enabled to follow the meaning of
words. But to appreciate the graceful and ready pronunciation of
the Roman tongue, to understand the various figures and connec-
tion of words, and such other ornaments, in which the beauty of
speaking consists, is, I doubt not, an admirable and delightful ac-
complishment; but it requires a degree of practice and study which
is not easy, and will better suit those who have more leisure, and
time enough yet before them for the occupation.

And so in this fifth book of my Parallel Lives, in giving an ac-
count of Demosthenes and Cicero, my comparison of their natural
dispositions and their characters will be formed upon their actions
and their lives as statesmen, and I shall not pretend to criticize
their orations one against the other, to show which of the two was
the more charming or the more powerful speaker. For there, as
Ion says,

"We are but like a fish upon dry land;"

a proverb which Caecilius perhaps forgot, when he employed his
always adventurous talents in so ambitious an attempt as a com-
parison of Demosthenes and Cicero: and, possibly, if it were a thing
obvious and easy for every man to f^now himself, the precept had not
passed for an oracle.

The divine power seems originally to have designed Demosthenes
and Cicero upon the same plan, giving them many similarities in

DEMOSTHENES 1 93

their natural characters, as their passion for distinction and their
love of liberty in civil life, and their want of courage in dangers
and war, and at the same time also to have added many accidental
resemblances. I think there can hardly be found two other orators,
who, from small and obscure beginnings, became so great and
mighty; who both contested with kings and tyrants; both lost their
daughters, were driven out of their country, and returned with
honor; who, flying from thence again, were both seized upon by
their enemies, and at last ended their lives with the liberty of their
countrymen. So that if we were to suppose there had been a trial
of skill between nature and fortune, as there is sometimes between
artists, it would be hard to judge, whether that succeeded best in
making them alike in their dispositions and manners, or this, in the
coincidences of their lives. We will speak of the eldest first.

Demosthenes, the father of Demosthenes, was a citizen of good
rank and quality, as Theopompus informs us, surnamed the Sword-
maker, because he had a large work-house, and kept servants skil-
ful in that art at work. But of that which iEschines, the orator, said
of his mother, that she was descended of one Gylon, who fled his
country upon an accusation of treason, and of a barbarian woman,
I can affirm nothing, whether he spoke true, or slandered and ma-
ligned her. This is certain, that Demosthenes, being as yet but
seven years old, was left by his father in affluent circumstances, the
whole value of his estate being little short of fifteen talents, and
that he was wronged by his guardians, part of his fortune being em-
bezzled by them, and the rest neglected; insomuch that even his
teachers were defrauded of their salaries. This was the reason that
he did not obtain the liberal education that he should have had;
besides that on account of weakness and delicate health, his mother
would not let him exert himself, and his teachers forbore to urge
him. He was meagre and sickly from the first, and hence had his
nickname of Batalus, given him, it is said, by the boys, in derision
of his appearance; Batalus being, as some tell us, a certain ener-
vated flute-player, in ridicule of whom Antiphanes wrote a play.
Others speak of Batalus as a writer of wanton verses and drinking
songs. And it would seem that some part of the body, not decent
to be named, was at that time called batalus by the Athenians. But

194 plutarch's lives

the name of Argas, which also they say was a nickname of Demos-
thenes, was given him for his behavior, as being savage and spiteful,
argas being one of the poetical words for a snake; or for his dis-
agreeable way of speaking, Argas being the name of a poet, who
composed very harshly and disagreeably. So much, as Plato says,
for such matters.

The first occasion of his eager inclination to oratory, they say,
was this. Callistratus, the orator, being to plead in open court for
Oropus, the expectation of the issue of that cause was very great,
as well for the ability of the orator, who was then at the height of
his reputation, as also for the fame of the action itself. Therefore,
Demosthenes, having heard the tutors and schoolmasters agreeing
among themselves to be present at this trial, with much importunity
persuades his tutor to take him along with him to the hearing; who,
having some acquaintance with the door-keepers, procured a place
where the boy might sit unseen, and hear what was said. Callis-
tratus having got the day, and being much admired, the boy began
to look upon his glory with a kind of emulation, observing how he
was courted on all hands, and attended on his way by the multi-
tude; but his wonder was more than all excited by the power of his
eloquence, which seemed able to subdue and win over any thing.
From this time, therefore, bidding farewell to other sorts of learn-
ing and study, he now began to exercise himself, and to take pains
in declaiming, as one that meant to be himself also an orator. He
made use of Isxus as his guide to the art of speaking, though Iso-
crates at that time was giving lessons; whether, as some say, because
he was an orphan, and was not able to pay Isocrates his appointed
fee of ten minx, or because he preferred Isxus's speaking, as being
more business-like and effective in actual use. Hermippus says,
that he met with certain memoirs without any author's name, in
which it was written that Demosthenes was a scholar to Plato, and
learnt much of his eloquence from him; and he also mentions Ctesi-
bius, as reporting from Callias of Syracuse and some others, that
Demosthenes secretly obtained a knowledge of the systems of Iso-
crates and Alcidamas, and mastered them thoroughly.

As soon, therefore, as he was grown up to man's estate, he began
to go to law with his guardians, and to write orations against them;

DEMOSTHENES 195

who, in the mean time, had recourse to various subterfuges and
pleas for new trials, and Demosthenes, though he was thus, as Thu-
cydides says, taught his business in dangers, and by his own exer-
tions was successful in his suit, was yet unable for all this to recover
so much as a small fraction of his patrimony. He only attained some
degree of confidence in speaking, and some competent experience
in it. And having got a taste of the honor and power which are
acquired by pleadings, he now ventured to come forth, and to under-
take public business. And, as it is said of Laomedon, the Orcho-
menian, that by advice of his physician, he used to run long dis-
tances to keep off some disease of his spleen, and by that means
having, through labor and exercise, framed the habit of his body,
he betook himself to the great garland games, 2 and became one of
the best runners at the long race; so it happened to Demosthenes,
who, first venturing upon oratory for the recovery of his own pri-
vate property, by this acquired ability in speaking, and at length,
in public business, as it were in the great games, came to have the
preeminence of all competitors in the assembly. But when he first
addressed himself to the people, he met with great discouragements,
and was derided for his strange and uncouth style, which was cum-
bered with long sentences and tortured with formal arguments to a
most harsh and disagreeable excess. Besides, he had, it seems, a
weakness in his voice, a perplexed and indistinct utterance and a
shortness of breath, which, by breaking and disjointing his sen-
tences, much obscured the sense and meaning of what he spoke.
So that in the end, being quite disheartened, he forsook the assem-
bly; and as he was walking carelessly and sauntering about the
Pirseus, Eunomus, the Thriasian, then a very old man, seeing him,
upbraided him, saying that his diction was very much like that of
Pericles, and that he was wanting to himself through cowardice and
meanness of spirit, neither bearing up with courage against popular
outcry, nor fitting his body for action, but suffering it to languish
through mere sloth and negligence.

Another time, when the assembly had refused to hear him, and
he was going home with his head muffled up, taking it very heavily,

'The Olympic, Pythian, Isthmian and Nemean Games, where the victors were
crowned with garlands.

196 plutarch's lives

they relate that Satyrus, the actor, followed him, and being his fa-
miliar acquaintance, entered into conversation with him. To whom,
when Demosthenes bemoaned himself, that having been the most in-
dustrious of all the pleaders, and having almost spent the whole
strength and vigor of his body in that employment, he could not yet
find any acceptance with the people, that drunken sots, mariners, and
illiterate fellows were heard, and had the hustings for their own,
while he himself was despised. "You say true, Demosthenes," replies
Satyrus, "but I will quickly remedy the cause of all this, if you
will repeat to me some passage out of Euripides or Sophocles."
Which when Demosthenes had pronounced, Satyrus presently taking
it up after him, gave the same passage, in his rendering of it, such
a new form, by accompanying it with the proper mien and gesture,
that to Demosthenes it seemed quite another thing. By this being
convinced how much grace and ornament language acquires from
action, he began to esteem it a small matter, and as good as nothing
for a man to exercise himself in declaiming, if he neglected enuncia-
tion and delivery. Hereupon he built himself a place to study in
under ground, (which was still remaining in our time), and hither
he would come constantly every day to form his action, and to exer-
cise his voice; and here he would continue, oftentimes without inter-
mission, two or three months together, shaving one half of his head,
that so for shame he might not go abroad, though he desired it ever
so much.

Nor was this all, but he also made his conversation with people
abroad, his common speech, and his business, subservient to his
studies, taking from hence occasions and arguments as matter to
work upon. For as soon as he was parted from his company, down
he would go at once into his study, and run over every thing in
order that had passed, and the reasons that might be alleged for and
against it. Any speeches also, that he was present at, he would go
over again with himself, and reduce into periods; and whatever
others spoke to him, or he to them, he would correct, transform,
and vary several ways. Hence it was, that he was looked upon as a
person of no great natural genius, but one who owed all the power
and ability he had in speaking to labor and industry. Of the truth
of which it was thought to be no small sign, that he was very rarely

DEMOSTHENES 1 97

heard to speak upon the occasion, but though he were by name
frequently called upon by the people, as he sat in the assembly, yet
he would not rise unless he had previously considered the subject,
and came prepared for it. So that many of the popular pleaders
used to make it a jest against him; and Pytheas once, scoffing at
him, said that his arguments smelt of the lamp. To which Demos-
thenes gave the sharp answer, "It is true, indeed, Pytheas, that your
lamp and mine are not conscious of the same things." To others,
however, he would not much deny it, but would admit frankly
enough, that he neither entirely wrote his speeches beforehand, nor
yet spoke wholly extempore. And he would affirm, that it was the
more truly popular act to use premeditation, such preparation being
a kind of respect to the people; whereas, to slight and take no care
how what is said is likely to be received by the audience, shows
something of an oligarchical temper, and is the course of one that
intends force rather than persuasion. Of his want of courage and
assurance to speak offhand, they make it also another argument,
that when he was at a loss, and discomposed, Demades would often
rise up on the sudden to support him, but he was never observed
to do the same for Demades.

Whence then, may some say, was it, that jEschines speaks of him
as a person so much to be wondered at for his boldness in speaking?
Or, how could it be, when Python, the Byzantine, "with so much
confidence and such a torrent of words inveighed against"' the
Athenians, that Demosthenes alone stood up to oppose him? Or,
when Lamachus, the Myrina?an, had written a panegyric upon king
Philip and Alexander, in which he uttered many things in reproach
of the Thebans and Olynthians, and at the Olympic Games recited
it publicly, how was it, that he, rising up, and recounting histori-
cally and demonstratively what benefits and advantages all Greece
had received from the Thebans and Chalcidians, and on the con-
trary, what mischiefs the flatterers of the Macedonians had brought
upon it, so turned the minds of all that were present that the soph-
ist, in alarm at the outcry against him, secretly made his way out
of the assembly? But Demosthenes, it should seem, regarded other
points in the character of Pericles to be unsuited to him; but his

•These are his own words, quoted from the Oration on the Crown.

198 plutarch's lives

reserve and his sustained manner, and his forbearing to speak on
the sudden, or upon every occasion, as being the things to which
principally he owed his greatness, these he followed, and endeavored
to imitate, neither wholly neglecting the glory which present occa-
sion offered, nor yet willing too often to expose his faculty to the
mercy of chance. For, in fact, the orations which were spoken by
him had much more of boldness and confidence in them than those
that he wrote, if we may believe Eratosthenes, Demetrius the Pha-
lerian, and the Comedians. Eratosthenes says that often in his speak-
ing he would be transported into a kind of ecstasy, and Demetrius,
that he uttered the famous metrical adjuration to the people,

"By the earth, the springs, the rivers, and the streams,"

as a man inspired, and beside himself. One of the comedians calls
him a rhopoperperethras* and another scoffs at him for his use of
antithesis: —

"And what he took, took back; a phrase to please
The very fancy of Demosthenes."

Unless, indeed, this also is meant by Antiphanes for a jest upon the
speech on Halonesus, which Demosthenes advised the Athenians
not to ta/^e at Philip's hands, but to tafe backj

All, however, used to consider Demades, in the mere use of his
natural gifts, an orator impossible to surpass, and that in what he
spoke on the sudden, he excelled all the study and preparation of
Demosthenes. And Ariston, the Chian, has recorded a judgment
which Theophrastus passed upon the orators; for being asked what
kind of orator he accounted Demosthenes, he answered, "Worthy
of the city of Athens;" and then, what he thought of Demades, he
answered, "Above it." And the same philosopher reports, that Poly-
euctus, the Sphettian, one of the Athenian politicians about that

4 A loud declaimer about petty matters; from rhopos, small wares, and perperos, a
loud talker.

5 Halonesus had belonged to Athens, but had been seized by pirates, from whom
Philip took it. He was willing to make a present of it to the Athenians, but
Demosthenes warned them not on any account to tak.e it, unless it were expressly
understood that they took, it bac\; Philip had no right to give what it was his duty to
give back. The distinction thus put was apparently the subject of a great deal of
pleasantry. Athenxus quotes five other passages from the comic writers, playing upon
it in the same way.

DEMOSTHENES 1 99

time, was wont to say, that Demosthenes was the greatest orator,
but Phocion the ablest, as he expressed the most sense in the fewest
words. And, indeed, it is related, that Demosthenes himself, as
often as Phocion stood up to plead against him, would say to his
acquaintance, "Here comes the knife to my speech." Yet it does
not appear whether he had this feeling for his powers of speaking,
or for his life and character, and meant to say that one word or
nod from a man who was really trusted, would go further than a
thousand lengthy periods from others.

Demetrius, the Phalerian, tells us, that he was informed by De-
mosthenes himself, now grown old, that the ways he made use of
to remedy his natural bodily infirmities and defects were such as
these; his inarticulate and stammering pronunciation he overcame
and rendered more distinct by speaking with pebbles in his mouth;
his voice he disciplined by declaiming and reciting speeches or
verses when he was out of breath, while running or going up steep
places; and that in his house he had a large looking-glass, before
which he would stand and go through his exercises. It is told that
some one once came to request his assistance as a pleader, and
related how he had been assaulted and beaten. "Certainly," said
Demosthenes, "nothing of the kind can have happened to you."
Upon which the other, raising his voice, exclaimed loudly, "What,
Demosthenes, nothing has been done to me?" "Ah," replied De-
mosthenes, "now I hear the voice of one that has been injured and
beaten." Of so great consequence towards the gaining of belief did
he esteem the tone and action of the speaker. The action which
he used himself was wonderfully pleasing to the common people;
but by well-educated people, as, for example, by Demetrius, the
Phalerian, it was looked upon as mean, humiliating, and unmanly.
And Hermippus says of iEsion, that, being asked his opinion con-
cerning the ancient orators and those of his own time, he answered
that it was admirable to see with what composure and in what high
style they addressed themselves to the people; but that the orations
of Demosthenes, when they are read, certainly appear to be superior
in point of construction, and more effective. 6 His written speeches,

' ibion was a fellow scholar with Demosthenes. The comparison in his remarks
gives the superiority in manner to the old speakers, whom he remembered in his
youth, but in construction, to Demosthenes, his contemporary.

200 PLUTARCH S LIVES

beyond all question, are characterized by austere tone and by their
severity. In his extempore retorts and rejoinders, he allowed him-
self the use of jest and mockery. When Demades said, "Demos-
thenes teach me! So might the sow teach Minerva!" he replied,
"Was it this Minerva, that was lately found playing the harlot in
Collytus?" 7 When a thief, who had the nickname of the Brazen,
was attempting to upbraid him for sitting up late, and writing by
candlelight, "I know very well," said he, "that you had rather have
all lights out; and wonder not, O ye men of Athens, at the many
robberies which are committed, since we have thieves of brass and
walls of clay." But on these points, though we have much more
to mention, we will add nothing at present. We will proceed to
take an estimate of his character from his actions and his life as a
statesman.

His first entering into public business was much about the time
of the Phocian war, as himself affirms, and may be collected from
his Philippic orations. For of these, some were made after that
action was over, and the earliest of them refer to its concluding
events. It is certain that he engaged in the accusation of Midias
when he was but two and thirty years old, having as yet no interest
or reputation as a politician. And this it was, I consider, that in-
duced him to withdraw the action, and accept a sum of money as
a compromise. For of himself

"He was no easy or good-natured man,"

but of a determined disposition, and resolute to see himself righted;
however, finding it a hard matter and above his strength to deal
with Midias, a man so well secured on all sides with money, elo-
quence, and friends, he yielded to the entreaties of those who inter-
ceded for him. But had he seen any hopes or possibility of prevail-
ing, I cannot believe that three thousand drachmas could have
taken off the edge of his revenge. The object which he chose for
himself in the commonwealth was noble and just, the defence of
the Grecians against Philip; and in this he behaved himself so

' "Sus Minervam," the proverb. Collytus, together with Melite, formed the south-
west, and, apparently, the more agreeable part of Athens. Plutarch, consoling a friend
who was banished from his native city, tells him people cannot all live where they
like best; it is not every Athenian can live in Collytus, nor does a man consider himself
a miserable exile, who has to leave a house in Melite and take one in Diomea.

DEMOSTHENES 201

worthily that he soon grew famous, and excited attention every-
where for his eloquence and courage in speaking. He was admired
through all Greece, the king of Persia courted him, and by Philip
himself he was more esteemed than all the other orators. His very
enemies were forced to confess that they had to do with a man of
mark; for such a character even iEschines and Hyperides give him,
where they accuse and speak against him.

So that I cannot imagine what ground Theopompus had to say,
that Demosthenes was of a fickle, unsettled disposition, and could
not long continue firm either to the same men or the same affairs;
whereas the contrary is most apparent, for the same party and post
in politics which he held from the beginning, to these he kept con-
stant to the end; and was so far from leaving them while he lived,
that he chose rather to forsake his life than his purpose. He was
never heard to apologize for shifting sides like Demades, who
would say, he often spoke against himself, but never against the
city; nor as Melanopus, who, being generally against Callistratus,
but being often bribed off with money, was wont to tell the people,
"The man indeed is my enemy, but we must submit for the good
of our country;" nor again as Nicodemus, the Messenian, who
having first appeared on Cassander's side and afterwards taken
part with Demetrius, said the two things were not in themselves
contrary, it being always most advisable to obey the conqueror. We
have nothing of this kind to say against Demosthenes, as one who
would turn aside or prevaricate, either in word or deed. There
could not have been less variation in his public acts if they had all
been played, so to say, from first to last, from the same score.
Panaetius, the philosopher, said, that most of his orations are so
written, as if they were to prove this one conclusion, that what is
honest and virtuous is for itself only to be chosen; as that of the
Crown, that against Aristocrates, that for the Immunities, and the
Philippics; in all which he persuades his fellow<itizens to pursue
not that which seems most pleasant, easy, or profitable; but declares
over and over again, that they ought in the first place to prefer that
which is just and honorable, before their own safety and preservation.
So that if he had kept his hands clean, if his courage for the wars
had been answerable to the generosity of his principles, and the

202 plutarch's lives

dignity of his orations, he might deservedly have his name placed,
not in the number of such orators as Mcerocles, Polyeuctus, and
Hyperides, but in the highest rank with Cimon, Thucydides, and
Pericles.

Certainly amongst those who were contemporary with him, Pho-
cion, though he appeared on the less commendable side in the com-
monwealth, and was counted as one of the Macedonian party, never-
theless, by his courage and his honesty, procured himself a name
not inferior to those of Ephialtes, Aristides, and Cimon. But De-
mosthenes, being neither fit to be relied on for courage in arms, as
Demetrius says, nor on all sides inaccessible to bribery (for how
invincible soever he was against the gifts of Philip and the Mace-
donians, yet elsewhere he lay open to assault, and was overpowered
by the gold which came down from Susa and Ecbatana), was there-
fore esteemed better able to recommend than to imitate the virtues
of past times. And yet (excepting only Phocion), even in his life
and manners, he far surpassed the other orators of his time. None
of them addressed the people so boldly; he attacked the faults,
and opposed himself to the unreasonable desires of the multitude,
as may be seen in his orations. Theopompus writes, that the Athe-
nians having by name selected Demosthenes, and called upon him
to accuse a certain person, he refused to do it; upon which the as-
sembly being all in an uproar, he rose up and said, "Your coun-
sellor, whether you will or no, O ye men of Athens, you shall
always have me; but a sycophant or false accuser, though you would
have me, I shall never be." And his conduct in the case of Antiphon
was perfectly aristocratical; whom, after he had been acquitted in
the assembly, he took and brought before the court of Areopagus,
and, setting at naught the displeasure of the people, convicted him
there of having promised Philip to burn the arsenal; whereupon
the man was condemned by that court, and suffered for it. He
accused, also, Theoris, the priestess, amongst other mirdemeanors,
of having instructed and taught the slaves to deceive and cheat
their masters, for which the sentence of death passed upon her, and
she was executed.

The oration which Apollodorus made use of, and by it carried

DEMOSTHENES 203

the cause against Timotheus, the general, in an action of debt, it is
said was written for him by Demosthenes; as also those against
Phormion and Stephanus, in which latter case he was thought to
have acted dishonorably, for the speech which Phormion used
against Apollodorus was also of his making; he, as it were, having
simply furnished two adversaries out of the same shop with weapons
to wound one another. Of his orations addressed to the public
assemblies, that against Androtion, and those against Timocrates
and Aristocrates, were written for others, before he had come for-
ward himself as a politician. They were composed, it seems,
when he was but seven or eight and twenty years old. That against
Aristogiton, and that for the Immunities, he spoke himself, at the
request, as he says, of Ctesippus, the son of Chabrias, but, as some
say, out of courtship to the young man's mother. Though, in fact,
he did not marry her, for his wife was a woman of Samos, as
Demetrius, the Magnesian, writes, in his book on Persons of the
same Name. It is not certain whether his oration against jEschines,
for Misconduct as Ambassador, was ever spoken; although Idome-
neus says that iEschines wanted only thirty voices to condemn him.
But this seems not to be correct, at least so far as may be conjectured
from both their orations concerning the Crown; for in these, neither
of them speaks clearly or directly of it, as a cause that ever came to
trial. But let others decide this controversy.

It was evident, even in time of peace, what course Demosthenes
would steer in the commonwealth; for whatever was done by the
Macedonian, he criticized and found fault with, and upon all occa-
sions was stirring up the people of Athens, and inflaming them
against him. Therefore, in the court of Philip, no man was so
much talked of, or of so great account as he; and when he came
thither, one of the ten ambassadors who were sent into Macedonia,
though all had audience given them, yet his speech was answered
with most care and exactness. But in other respects, Philip enter-
tained him not so honorably as the rest, neither did he show him
the same kindness and civility with which he applied himself to
the party of iEschines and Philocrates. So that, when the others
commended Philip for his able speaking, his beautiful person, nay,

204 PLUTARCH S LIVES

and also for his good companionship in drinking, Demosthenes
could not refrain from cavilling at these praises; the first, he said,
was a quality which might well enough become a rhetorician, the
second a woman, and the last was only the property of a sponge;
no one of them was the proper commendation of a prince.

But when things came at last to war, Philip on the one side being
not able to live in peace, and the Athenians, on the other side,
being stirred up by Demosthenes, the first action he put them upon
was the reducing of Eubcea, which, by the treachery of the tyrants,
was brought under subjection to Philip. And on his proposition,
the decree was voted, and they crossed over thither and chased the
Macedonians out of the island. The next, was the relief of the By-
zantines and Perinthians, whom the Macedonians at that time
were attacking. He persuaded the people to lay aside their enmity
against these cities, to forget the offences committed by them in
the Confederate War, and to send them such succors as eventually
saved and secured them. Not long after, he undertook an embassy
through the States of Greece, which he solicited and so far in-
censed against Philip, that, a few only excepted, he brought them
all into a general league. So that, besides the forces composed of
the citizens themselves, there was an army consisting of fifteen
thousand foot and two thousand horse, and the money to pay these
strangers was levied and brought in with great cheerfulness. On
which occasion it was, says Theophrastus, on the allies requesting
that their contributions for the war might be ascertained and stated,
Crobylus, the orator, made use of the saying, "War can't be fed at
so much a day." Now was all Greece up in arms, and in great
expectation what would be the event. The Eubceans, the Achxans,
the Corinthians, the Megarians, the Leucadians, and Corcyracans,
their people and their cities, were all joined together in a league.
But the hardest task was yet behind, left for Demosthenes, to
draw the Thebans into this confederacy with the rest. Their coun-
try bordered next upon Attica, they had great forces for the war,
and at that time they were accounted the best soldiers of all Greece,
but it was no easy matter to make them break with Philip, who,
by many good offices, had so lately obliged them in the Phocian
war; especially considering how the subjects of dispute and vari-

DEMOSTHENES 205

ance between the two cities were continually renewed and exas-
perated by petty quarrels, arising out of the proximity of their
frontiers.

But after Philip, being now grown high and puffed up with his
good success at Amphissa, on a sudden surprised Elatea and pos-
sessed himself of Phocis, and the Athenians were in a great con-
sternation, none durst venture to rise up to speak, no one knew
what to say, all were at a loss, and the whole assembly in silence
and perplexity, in this extremity of affairs, Demosthenes was the
only man who appeared, his counsel to them being alliance with the
Thebans. And having in other ways encouraged the people, and,
as his manner was, raised their spirits up with hopes, he, with some
others, was sent ambassador to Thebes. To oppose him, as Marsyas
says, Philip also sent thither his envoys, Amyntas and Clearchus,
two Macedonians, besides Daochus, a Thessalian, and Thrasydacus.
Now the Thebans, in their consultations, were well enough aware
what suited best with their own interest, but every one had before
his eyes the terrors of war, and their losses in the Phocian troubles
were still recent; but such was the force and power of the orator,
fanning up, as Theopompus says, their courage, and firing their
emulation, that casting away every thought of prudence, fear, or
obligation, in a sort of divine possession, they chose the path of
honor, to which his words invited them. And this success, thus
accomplished by an orator, was thought to be so glorious and of
such consequence, that Philip immediately sent heralds to treat and
petition for a peace: all Greece was aroused, and up in arms to help.
And the commanders-in-chief, not only of Attica, but of Boeotia,
applied themselves to Demosthenes, and observed his directions.
He managed all the assemblies of the Thebans, no less than those
of the Athenians; he was beloved both by the one and by the other,
and exercised the same supreme authority with both; and that not
by unfair means, or without just cause, as Theopompus professes,
but indeed it was no more than was due to his merit.

But there was, it should seem, some divinely-ordered fortune,
commissioned, in the revolution of things, to put a period at this
time to the liberty of Greece, which opposed and thwarted all their
actions, and by many signs foretold what should happen. Such

206 plutarch's lives

were the sad predictions uttered by the Pythian priestess, and this
old oracle cited out of the Sibyl's verses, —

"The battle on Thermodon that shall be
Safe at a distance I desire to see,
Far, like an eagle, watching in the air.
Conquered shall weep, and conqueror perish there."

This Thermodon, they say, is a little rivulet here in our country
in Chaeronea, running into the Cephisus. But we know of none that
is so called at the present time; and can only conjecture that the
streamlet which is now called Hacmon, and runs by the Temple of
Hercules, where the Grecians were encamped, might perhaps in
those days be called Thermodon, and after the fight, being filled
with blood and dead bodies, upon this occasion, as we guess, might
change its old name for that which it now bears. Yet Duris says
that this Thermodon was no river, but that some of the soldiers,
as they were pitching their tents and digging trenches about them,
found a small stone statue, which, by the inscription, appeared to
be the figure of Thermodon, carrying a wounded Amazon in his
arms; and that there was another oracle current about it, as fol-
lows: —

"The batde on Thermodon that shall be,
Fail not, black raven, to attend and see;
The flesh of men shall there abound for thee."

In fine, it is not easy to determine what is the truth. But of
Demosthenes it is said, that he had such great confidence in the
Grecian forces, and was so excited by the sight of the courage and
resolution of so many brave men ready to engage the enemy, that
he would by no means endure they should give any heed to oracles,
or hearken to prophecies, but gave out that he suspected even the
prophetess herself, as if she had been tampered with to speak in
favor of Philip. The Thebans he put in mind of Epaminondas, the
Athenians, of Pericles who always took their own measures and
governed their actions by reason, looking upon things of this kind
as mere pretexts for cowardice. Thus far, therefore, Demosthenes
acquitted himself like a brave man. But in the fight he did nothing
-honorable, nor was his performance answerable to his speeches.

DEMOSTHENES 207

For he fled, deserting his place disgracefully, and throwing away
his arms, not ashamed, as Pytheas observed, to belie the inscription
written on his shield, in letters o£ gold, "With good fortune."

In the mean time Philip, in the first moment of victory, was so
transported with joy, that he grew extravagant, and going out, after
he had drunk largely, to visit the dead bodies, he chanted the first
words of the decree that had been passed on the motion of Demos-
thenes,

"The motion of Demosthenes, Demosthenes's son," 8

dividing it metrically into feet, and marking the beats.

But when he came to himself, and had well considered the dan-
ger he was lately under, he could not forbear from shuddering at
the wonderful ability and power of an orator who had made him
hazard his life and empire on the issue of a few brief hours. The
fame of it also reached even to the court of Persia, and the king
sent letters to his lieutenants, commanding them to supply Demos-
thenes with money, and to pay every attention to him, as the only
man of all the Grecians who was able to give Philip occupation
and find employment for his forces near home, in the troubles of
Greece. This afterwards came to the knowledge of Alexander, by
certain letters of Demosthenes which he found at Sardis, and by
other papers of the Persian officers, stating the large sums which
had been given him.

At this time, however, upon the ill success which now happened
to the Grecians, those of the contrary faction in the commonwealth
fell foul upon Demosthenes, and took the opportunity to frame sev-
eral informations and indictments against him. But the people not
only acquitted him of these accusations, but continued towards him
their former respect, and still invited him, as a man that meant well,
to take a part in public affairs. Insomuch that when the bones of
those who had been slain at Charronea were brought home to be sol-
emnly interred, Demosthenes was the man they chose to make the
funeral oration. They did not show, under the misfortunes which
befell them, a base or ignoble mind, as Theopompus writes in his

8 Demosthenes Demosthcnous, Paianieus, tad' eipen. "Demosthenes, the son of
Demosthenes, of the Paranian township, made this motion," — the usual form of the
commencement of the Votes of the Athenian Assembly.

208 plutarch's lives

exaggerated style, but, on the contrary, by the honor and respect
paid to their counsellor, they made it appear that they were noway
dissatisfied with the counsels he had given them. The speech, there-
fore, was spoken by Demosthenes. But the subsequent decrees he
would not allow to be passed in his own name, but made use of
those of his friends, one after another, looking upon his own as
unfortunate and inauspicious; till at length he took courage again
after the death of Philip, who did not long oudive his victory at
Chxronea. And this, it seems, was that which was foretold in the
last verse of the oracle,

"Conquered shall weep, and conqueror perish there."

Demosthenes had secret intelligence of the death of Philip, and
laying hold of this opportunity to prepossess the people with cour-
age and better hopes for the future, he came into the assembly with
a cheerful countenance pretending to have had a dream that pre-
saged some great good fortune for Athens; and, not long after,
arrived the messengers who brought the news of Philip's death. No
sooner had the people received it, but immediately they offered
sacrifice to the gods, and decreed that Pausanias should be pre-
sented with a crown. Demosthenes appeared publicly in a rich
dress, with a chaplet on his head, though it were but the seventh
day since the death of his daughter, as is said by ^Eschines, who
upbraids him upon this account, and rails at him as one void of
natural affection towards his children. Whereas, indeed, he rather
betrays himself to be of a poor, low spirit, and effeminate mind, if
he really means to make wailings and lamentation the only signs
of a gende and affectionate nature, and to condemn those who bear
such accidents with more temper and less passion. For my own
part, I cannot say that the behavior of the Athenians on this occa-
sion was wise or honorable, to crown themselves with garlands
and to sacrifice to the Gods for the death of a Prince who, in the
midst of his success and victories, when they were a conquered peo-
ple, had used them with so much clemency and humanity. For
besides provoking fortune, it was a base thing, and unworthy in
itself, to make him a citizen of Athens, and pay him honors while
he lived, and yet as soon as he fell by another's hand, to set no

DEMOSTHENES 200,

bounds to their jollity, to insult over him dead, and to sing tri-
umphant songs of victory, as if by their own valor they had van-
quished him. I must at the same time commend the behavior of
Demosthenes, who, leaving tears and lamentations and domestic
sorrows to the women, made it his business to attend to the interests
of the commonwealth. And I think it the duty of him who would
be accounted to have a soul truly valiant, and fit for government,
that, standing always firm to the common good, and letting private
griefs and troubles find their compensation in public blessings, he
should maintain the dignity of his character and station, much more
than actors who represent the persons of kings and tyrants, who, we
see, when they either laugh or weep on the stage, follow, not their
own private inclinations, but the course consistent with the subject
and with their position. And if, moreover, when our neighbor is in
misfortune, it is not our duty to forbear offering any consolation,
but rather to say whatever may tend to cheer him, and to invite
his attention to any agreeable objects, just as we tell people who
are troubled with sore eyes, to withdraw their sight from bright and
offensive colors to green, and those of a softer mixture, from whence
can a man seek, in his own case, better arguments of consolation for
afflictions in his family, than from the prosperity of his country, by
making public and domestic chances count, so to say, together, and
the better fortune of the state obscure and conceal the less happy
circumstances of the individual. I have been induced to say so
much, because I have known many readers melted by ^Eschines's
language into a soft and unmanly tenderness.

But now to return to my narrative. The cities of Greece were in-
spirited once more by the efforts of Demosthenes to form a league
together. The Thebans, whom he had provided with arms, set upon
their garrison, and slew many of them; the Athenians made prepara-
tions to join their forces with them; Demosthenes ruled supreme
in the popular assembly, and wrote letters to the Persian officers who
commanded under the king in Asia, inciting them to make war
upon the Macedonian, calling him child and simpleton.' But as
soon as Alexander had settled matters in his own country, and

* Margites, the name of the character held up to ridicule in an old poem ascribed to
Homer,— the boy, who, though fully grown up, has never attained the sense or wits of

210 PLUTARCH S LIVES

came in person with his army into Bceotia, down fell the courage
of the Athenians, and Demosthenes was hushed; the Thebans, de-
serted by them, fought by themselves, and lost their city. After
which, the people of Athens, all in distress and great perplexity,
resolved to send ambassadors to Alexander, and amongst others,
made choice of Demosthenes for one; but his heart failing him for
fear of the king's anger, he returned back from Cithxron, and left
the embassy. In the mean time, Alexander sent to Athens, requir-
ing ten of their orators to be delivered up to him, as Idomeneus
and Duris have reported, but as the most and best historians say,
he demanded these eight only, — Demosthenes, Polyeuctus, Ephi-
altes, Lycurgus, Mcerocles, Demon, Callisthenes, and Charidemus.
It was upon this occasion that Demosthenes related to them the
fable in which the sheep are said to deliver up their dogs to the
wolves; himself and those who with him contended for the people's
safety, being, in his comparison, the dogs that defended the flock, and
Alexander "the Macedonian arch wolf." He further told them, "As
we see corn-masters sell their whole stock but a few grains of wheat
which they carry about with them in a dish, as a sample of the rest, so
you, by delivering up us, who are but a few, do at the same time un-
awares surrender up yourselves all together with us;" so we find it
related in the history of Aristobulus, the Cassandrian. The Athe-
nians were deliberating, and at a loss what to do, when Demades,
having agreed with the persons whom Alexander had demanded, for
five talents, undertook to go ambassador, and to intercede with the
king for them; and, whether it was that he relied on his friendship
and kindness, or that he hoped to find him satiated, as a lion glutted
with slaughter, he certainly went, and prevailed with him both to
pardon the men, and to be reconciled to the city.

So he and his friends, when Alexander went away, were great
men, and Demosthenes was quite put aside. Yet when Agis, the
Spartan, made his insurrection, he also for a short time attempted
a movement in his favor; but he soon shrunk back again, as the
Athenians would not take any part in it, and, Agis being slain, the
Lacedaemonians were vanquished. During this time it was that the
indictment against Ctesiphon, concerning the Crown, was brought
to trial. The action was commenced a little before the batde in

DEMOSTHENES 211

Chaeronea, when Chaerondas was archon, but it was not proceeded
with till about ten years after, Aristophon being then archon. Never
was any public cause more celebrated than this, alike for the fame
of the orators, and for the generous courage of the judges, who,
though at that time the accusers of Demosthenes were in the height
of power, and supported by all the favor of the Macedonians, yet
would not give judgment against him, but acquitted him so honor-
ably, that jEschines did not obtain the fifth part of their suffrages
on his side, so that, immediately after, he left the city, and spent the
rest of his life in teaching rhetoric about the island of Rhodes,
and upon the continent in Ionia.

It was not long after that Harpalus fled from Alexander, and
came to Athens out of Asia; knowing himself guilty of many mis-
deeds into which his love of luxury had led him, and fearing the
king, who was now grown terrible even to his best friends. Yet
this man had no sooner addressed himself to the people, and de-
livered up his goods, his ships, and himself to their disposal, but the
other orators of the town had their eyes quickly fixed upon his
money, and came in to his assistance, persuading the Athenians to
receive and protect their suppliant. Demosthenes at first gave advice
to chase him out of the country, and to beware lest they involved
their city in a war upon an unnecessary and unjust occasion. But
some few days after, as they were taking an account of the treasure,
Harpalus, perceiving how much he was pleased with a cup o£
Persian manufacture, and how curiously he surveyed the sculpture
and fashion of it, desired him to poise it in his hand, and consider
the weight of the gold. Demosthenes, being amazed to feel how
heavy it was, asked him what weight it came to. "To you," said
Harpalus, smiling, "it shall come with twenty talents." And pres-
endy after, when night drew on, he sent him the cup with so many
talents. Harpalus, it seems, was a person of singular skill to dis-
cern a man's covetousness by the air of his countenance, and the
look and movements of his eyes. For Demosthenes could not re-
sist the temptation, but admitting the present, like an armed garri-
son, into the citadel of his house, he surrendered himself up to the
interest of Harpalus. The next day, he came into the assembly with
his neck swathed about with wool and rollers, and when they called

212 PLUTARCH S LIVES

on him to rise up and speak, he made signs as if he had lost his
voice. But the wits, turning the matter to ridicule, said that cer-
tainly the orator had been seized that night with no other than a
silver quinsy. And soon after, the people, becoming aware of the
bribery, grew angry, and would not suffer him to speak, or make
any apology for himself, but ran him down with noise; and one
man stood up, and cried out, "What, ye men of Athens, will you not
hear the cup-bearer?" So at length they banished Harpalus out of
the city; and fearing lest they should be called to account for the
treasure which the orators had purloined, they made a strict in-
quiry, going from house to house; only Callicles, the son of Arrhe-
nidas, who was newly married, they would not suffer to be searched,
out of respect, as Theopompus writes, to the bride, who was within.
Demosthenes resisted the inquisition, and proposed a decree to
refer the business to the court of Areopagus, and to punish those
whom that court should find guilty. But being himself one of the
first whom the court condemned, when he came to the bar, he was
fined fifty talents, and committed to prison; where, out of shame
of the crime for which he was condemned, and through the weak-
ness of his body, growing incapable of supporting the confinement,
he made his escape, by the carelessness of some and by the conniv-
ance of others of the citizens. We are told, at least, that he had not
fled far from the city, when, finding that he was pursued by some
of those who had been his adversaries, he endeavored to hide him-
self. But when they called him by name, and coming up nearer to
him, desired he would accept from them some money which they
had brought from home as a provision for his journey, and to that
purpose only had followed him, when they entreated him to take
courage, and to bear up against his misfortune, he burst out into
much greater lamentation, saying, "But how is it possible to sup-
port myself under so heavy an affliction, since I leave a city in
which I have such enemies, as in any other it is not easy to find
friends." He did not show much fortitude in his banishment,
spending his time for the most part in ^Egina and Troezen, and,
with tears in his eyes, looking towards the country of Attica. And
there remain upon record some sayings of his, little resembling
those sentiments of generosity and bravery which he used to ex-

DEMOSTHENES 213

press when he had the management of the commonwealth. For,
as he was departing out of the city, it is reported, he lifted up his
hands towards the Acropolis, and said, "O Lady Minerva, how is
it that thou takest delight in three such fierce untractable beasts,
the owl, the snake, and the people?" The young men that came to
visit and converse with him, he deterred from meddling with state
affairs, telling them, that if at first two ways had been proposed
to him, the one leading to the speaker's stand and the assembly, the
other going direct to destruction, and he could have foreseen the
many evils which attend those who deal in public business, such as
fears, envies, calumnies, and contentions, he would certainly have
taken that which led straight on to his death.

But now happened the death of Alexander, while Demosthenes
was in this banishment which we have been speaking of. And the
Grecians were once again up in arms, encouraged by the brave at-
tempts of Leosthenes, who was then drawing a circumvallation
about Antipater, whom he held close besieged in Lamia. Pytheas,
therefore, the orator, and Callimedon, called the Crab, fled from
Athens, and taking sides with Antipater, went about with his
friends and ambassadors to keep the Grecians from revolting and
taking part with the Athenians. But, on the other side, Demos-
thenes, associating himself with the ambassadors that came from
Athens, used his utmost endeavors and gave them his best assistance
in persuading the cities to fall unanimously upon the Macedonians,
and to drive them out of Greece. Phylarchus says that in Arcadia
there happened a rencounter between Pytheas and Demosthenes,
which came at last to downright railing, while the one pleaded
for the Macedonians, and the other for the Grecians. Pytheas said,
that as we always suppose there is some disease in the family to
which they bring asses' milk, so wherever there comes an embassy
from Athens, that city must needs be indisposed. And Demos-
thenes answered him, retorting the comparison: "Asses' milk is
brought to restore health, and the Athenians come for the safety
and recovery of the sick." With this conduct the people of Athens
were so well pleased, that they decreed the recall of Demosthenes
from banishment. The decree was brought in by Demon the Paea-
nian, cousin to Demosthenes. So they sent him a ship to JEgina,

214 PLUTARCH S LIVES

and he landed at the port of Piraeus, where he was met and joyfully
received by all the citizens, not so much as an Archon or a priest
staying behind. And Demetrius, the Magnesian, says, that he lifted
up his hands towards heaven, and blessed this day of his happy
return, as far more honorable than that of Alcibiades; since he was
recalled by his countrymen, not through any force or constraint
put upon them, but by their own good-will and free inclinations.
There remained only his pecuniary fine, which, according to law,
could not be remitted by the people. But they found out a way to
elude the law. It was a custom with them to allow a certain quan-
tity of silver to those who were to furnish and adorn the altar for
the sacrifice of Jupiter Soter. This office, for that turn, they be-
stowed on Demosthenes, and for the performance of it ordered him
fifty talents, the very sum in which he was condemned.

Yet it was no long time that he enjoyed his country after his
return, the attempts of the Greeks being soon all utterly defeated.
For the battle at Cranon happened in Metagitnion, in Boedromion
the garrison entered into Munychia, and in the Pyanepsion follow-
ing died Demosthenes after this manner.

Upon the report that Antipater and Craterus were coming to
Athens, Demosthenes with his party took their opportunity to
escape privily out of the city; but sentence of death was, upon the
motion of Demades, passed upon them by the people. They dis-
persed themselves, flying some to one place, some to another; and
Antipater sent about his soldiers into all quarters to apprehend
them. Archias was their captain, and was thence called the exile-
hunter. He was a Thurian born, and is reported to have been an
actor of tragedies, and they say that Polus, of iEgina, the best actor
of his time, was his scholar; but Hermippus reckons Archias
among the disciples of Lacritus, the orator, and Demetrius says, he
spent some time with Anaximenes. This Archias finding Hyperides
the orator, Aristonicus of Marathon, and Himerseus, the brother
of Demetrius the Phalerian, in yEgina, took them by force out of
the temple of iEacus, whither they were fled for safety, and sent
them to Antipater, then at Cleonac, where they were all put to death;
and Hyperides, they say, had his tongue cut out.

Demosthenes, he heard, had taken sanctuary at the temple of

DEMOSTHENES 215

Neptune in Calauria, and, crossing over thither in some light ves-
sels, as soon as he had landed himself, and the Thracian spear-men
that came with him, he endeavored to persuade Demosthenes to
accompany him to Antipater, as if he should meet with no hard
usage from him. But Demosthenes, in his sleep the night before,
had a strange dream. It seemed to him that he was acting a tragedy,
and contended with Archias for the victory; and though he ac-
quitted himself well, and gave good satisfaction to the spectators,
yet for want of better furniture and provision for the stage, he lost
the day. And so, while Archias was discoursing to him with many
expressions of kindness, he sate still in the same posture, and look-
ing up steadfastly upon him, "O Archias," said he, "I am as little
affected by your promises now as I used formerly to be by your
acting." Archias at this beginning to grow angry and to threaten
him, "Now," said Demosthenes, "you speak like the genuine Mace-
donian oracle; before you were but acting a part. Therefore forbear
only a little, while I write a word or two home to my family."
Having thus spoken, he withdrew into the temple, and taking a
scroll, as if he meant to write, he put the reed into his mouth, and
biting it, as he was wont to do when he was thoughtful or writing,
he held it there for some time. Then he bowed down his head and
covered it. The soldiers that stood at the door, supposing all this
to proceed from want of courage and fear of death, in derision
called him effeminate, and faint-hearted, and coward. And Archias,
drawing near, desired him to rise up, and repeating the same kind
things he had spoken before, he once more promised him to make
his peace with Antipater. But Demosthenes, perceiving that now
the poison had pierced and seized his vitals, uncovered his head,
and fixing his eyes upon Archias, "Now," said he, "as soon as you
please you may commence the part of Creon in the tragedy, and
cast out this body of mine unburied. But, O gracious Neptune, 1,
for my part, while I am yet alive, arise up and depart out of this
sacred place; though Antipater and the Macedonians have not left
so much as thy temple unpolluted." After he had thus spoken and
desired to be held up, because already he began to tremble and stag-
ger, as he was going forward, and passing by the altar, he fell down,
and with a groan gave up the ghost.

216 plutarch's lives

Ariston says that he took the poison out of a reed, as we have
shown before. But Pappus, a certain historian whose history was
recovered by Hermippus, says, that as he fell near the altar, there
was found in his scroll this beginning only of a letter, and nothing
more, "Demosthenes to Antipater." And that when his sudden
death was much wondered at, the Thracians who guarded the doors
reported that he took the poison into his hand out of a rag, and put it
into his mouth, and that they imagined it had been gold which he
swallowed; but the maid that served him, being examined by the
followers of Archias, affirmed that he had worn it in a bracelet for a
long time, as an amulet. And Eratosthenes also says that he kept
the poison in a hollow ring, and that that ring was the bracelet
which he wore about his arm. There are various other state-
ments made by the many authors who have related the story, but
there is no need to enter into their discrepancies; yet I must not
omit what is said by Demochares, the relation of Demosthenes, who
is of opinion, it was not by the help of poison that he met with
so sudden and so easy a death, but that by the singular favor and
providence of the gods he was thus rescued from the cruelty of the
Macedonians. He died on the sixteenth of Pyanepsion, the most
sad and solemn day of the Thesmophoria, which the women ob-
serve by fasting in the temple of the goddess.

Soon after his death, the people of Athens bestowed on him such
honors as he had deserved. They erected his statue of brass; they
decreed that the eldest of his family should be maintained in the
Prytaneum; and on the base of his statue was engraven the famous
inscription, —

"Had you for Greece been strong, as wise you were,
The Macedonian had not conquered her."

For it is simply ridiculous to say, as some have related, that Demos-
thenes made these verses himself in Calauria, as he was about to
take the poison.

A little before he went to Athens, the following incident was said
to have happened. A soldier, being summoned to appear before
his superior officer, and answer to an accusation brought against
him, put that little gold which he had into the hands of Demos-

DEMOSTHENES 217

thenes's statue. The fingers of this statue were folded one within
another, and near it grew a small plane-tree, from which many
leaves, either accidentally blown thither by the wind, or placed so
on purpose by the man himself, falling together, and lying round
about the gold, concealed it for a long time. In the end, the soldier
returned, and found his treasure entire, and the fame of this inci-
dent was spread abroad. And many ingenious persons of the city
competed with each other, on this occasion, to vindicate the integ-
rity of Demosthenes, in several epigrams which they made on the
subject.

As for Demades, he did not long enjoy the new honors he now
came in for, divine vengeance for the death of Demosthenes pursu-
ing him into Macedonia, where he was justly put to death by those
whom he had basely flattered. They were weary of him before, but
at this time the guilt he lay under was manifest and undeniable.
For some of his letters were intercepted, in which he had en-
couraged Perdiccas 10 to fall upon Macedonia, and to save the Gre-
cians, who, he said, hung only by an old rotten thread, meaning
Antipater. Of this he was accused by Dinarchus, the Corinthian,
and Cassander was so enraged, that he first slew his son in his
bosom, and then gave orders to execute him; who might now at
last, by his own extreme misfortunes, learn the lesson, that traitors,
who make sale of their country, sell themselves first; a truth which
Demosthenes had often foretold him, and he would never believe.
Thus, Sosius, you have the life of Demosthenes, from such accounts
as we have either read or heard concerning him.

10 This, apparently, is one of Plutarch's slips of memory. It was not Perdiccas, but
Antigonus; and so he tells the story himself in the life of Phocion.

CICERO

IT is generally said, that Helvia, the mother of Cicero, was both
well born and lived a fair life; but of his father nothing is
reported but in extremes. For whilst some would have him
the son of a fuller, and educated in that trade, others carry back
the origin of his family to Tullus Attius, an illustrious king of the
Volscians, who waged war not without honor against the Romans.
However, he who first of that house was surnamed Cicero seems
to have been a person worthy to be remembered; since those who
succeeded him not only did not reject, but were fond of the name,
though vulgarly made a matter of reproach. For the Latins call a
vetch Cicer, and a nick or dent at the tip of his nose, which resem-
bled the opening in a vetch, gave him the surname of Cicero.

Cicero, whose story I am writing, is said to have replied with
spirit to some of his friends, who recommended him to lay aside
or change the name when he first stood for office and engaged in
politics, that he would make it his endeavor to render the name of
Cicero more glorious than that of the Scauri and Catuli. And when
he was quaestor in Sicily, and was making an offering of silver
plate to the gods, and had inscribed his two names, Marcus and
Tullius, instead of the third he jestingly told the artificer to en-
grave the figure of a vetch by them. Thus much is told us about
his name.

Of his birth it is reported, that his mother was delivered without
pain or labor, on the third of the new Calends, 1 the same day on
which now the magistrates of Rome pray and sacrifice for the em-
peror. It is said, also, that a vision appeared to his nurse, and fore-
told the child she then suckled should afterwards become a great
benefit to the Roman States. To such presages, which might in
general be thought mere fancies and idle talk, he himself erelong
gave the credit of true prophecies. For as soon as he was of an age
1 The third of January.
218

CICERO 219

to begin to have lessons, he became so distinguished for his talent,
and got such a name and reputation amongst the boys, that their
fathers would often visit the school, that they might see young
Cicero, and might be able to say that they themselves had witnessed
the quickness and readiness in learning for which he was re-
nowned. And the more rude among them used to be angry with
their children, to see them, as they walked together, receiving Cicero
with respect into the middle place. And being, as Plato would have
the scholar-like and philosophical temper, eager for every kind of
learning, and indisposed to no description of knowledge or in-
struction, he showed, however, a more peculiar propensity to poetry;
and there is a poem now extant, made by him when a boy, in tet-
rameter verse, called Pontius Glaucus. And afterwards, when he
applied himself more curiously to these accomplishments, he had
the name of being not only the best orator, but also the best poet
of Rome. And the glory of his rhetoric still remains, notwithstand-
ing the many new modes in speaking since his time; but his verses
are forgotten and out of all repute, so many ingenious poets having
followed him.

Leaving his juvenile studies, he became an auditor of Philo the
Academic, whom the Romans, above all the other scholars of Clito-
machus, admired for his eloquence and loved for his character. He
also sought the company of the Mucii, who were eminent states-
men and leaders in the senate, and acquired from them a knowl-
edge of the laws. For some short time he served in arms under
Sylla, in the Marsian war. But perceiving the commonwealth run-
ning into factions, and from faction all things tending to an abso-
lute monarchy, he betook himself to a retired and contemplative
life, and conversing with the learned Greeks, devoted himself to
study, till Sylla had obtained the government, and the common-
wealth was in some kind of settlement.

At this time, Chrysogonus, Sylla's emancipated slave, having
laid an information about an estate belonging to one who was said
to have been put to death by proscription, had bought it himself
for two thousand drachmas. And when Roscius, the son and heir
of the dead, complained, and demonstrated the estate to be worth
two hundred and fifty talents, Sylla took it angrily to have his actions

220 PLUTARCH S LIVES

questioned, and preferred a process against Roscius for the murder
of his father, Chrysogonus managing the evidence. None of the
advocates durst assist him, but fearing the cruelty of Sylla, avoided
the cause. The young man, being thus deserted, came for refuge
to Cicero. Cicero's friends encouraged him, saying he was not
likely ever to have a fairer and more honorable introduction to pub-
lic life; he therefore undertook the defence, carried the cause, and
got much renown for it.

But fearing Sylla, he travelled into Greece, and gave it out that
he did so for the benefit of his health. And indeed he was lean and
meagre, and had such a weakness in his stomach, that he could
take nothing but a spare and thin diet, and that not till late in the
evening. His voice was loud and good, but so harsh and unman-
aged that in vehemence and heat of speaking he always raised it to
so high a tone, that there seemed to be reason to fear about his
health.

When he came to Athens, he was a hearer of Antiochus of
Ascalon, with whose fluency and elegance of diction he was much
taken, although he did not approve of his innovations in doctrine.
For Antiochus had now fallen off from the New Academy, as they
call it, and forsaken the sect of Carneades, whether that he was
moved by the argument of manifestness 2 and the senses, or, as some
say, had been led by feelings of rivalry and opposition to the follow-
ers of Clitomachus and Philo to change his opinions, and in most
things to embrace the doctrine of the Stoics. But Cicero rather
affected and adhered to the doctrines of the New Academy; and
purposed with himself, if he should be disappointed of any employ-
ment in the commonwealth, to retire hither from pleading and
political affairs, and to pass his life with quiet in the study of
philosophy.

But after he had received the news of Sylla's death, and his body,
strengthened again by exercise, was come to a vigorous habit, his
voice managed and rendered sweet and full to the ear and pretty
well brought into keeping with his general constitution, his friends

1 According to a proposed correction, "by the manifestness of the senses." But the
enargeia, or manifettness of things seen and felt, seems to be the recognized name of
the argument against the sceptical views of the New Academy as to the possibility of
certain knowledge. See Cicero's Academics, II. 6.

CICERO 221

at Rome earnestly soliciting him by letters, and Antiochus also urg-
ing him to return to public affairs, he again prepared for use his
orator's instrument of rhetoric, and summoned into action his po-
litical faculties, diligently exercising himself in declamations, and
attending the most celebrated rhetoricians of the time. He sailed
from Athens for Asia and Rhodes. Amongst the Asian masters, he
conversed with Xenocles of Adramyttium, Dionysius of Magnesia,
and Menippus of Caria; at Rhodes, he studied oratory with Apol-
lonius, the son of Molon, and philosophy with Posidonius. Apol-
lonius, we are told, not understanding Latin, requested Cicero to
declaim in Greek. He complied willingly, thinking that his faults
would thus be better pointed out to him. And after he finished,
all his other hearers were astonished, and contended who should
praise him most, but Apollonius, who had shown no signs of excite-
ment whilst he was hearing him, so also now, when it was over,
sate musing for some considerable time, without any remark. And
when Cicero was discomposed at this, he said, "You have my praise
and admiration, Cicero, and Greece my pity and commiseration,
since those arts and that eloquence which are the only glories that
remain to her, will now be transferred by you to Rome."

And now when Cicero, full of expectation, was again bent upon
political affairs, a certain oracle blunted the edge of his inclination;
for consulting the god of Delphi how he should attain most glory,
the Pythoness answered, by making his own genius and not the
opinion of the people the guide of his life; and therefore at first he
passed his time in Rome cautiously, and was very backward in pre-
tending to public offices, so that he was at that time in little esteem,
and had got the names, so readily given by low and ignorant people
in Rome, of Greek and Scholar. But when his own desire of fame
and the eagerness of his father and relations had made him take in
earnest to pleading, he made no slow or gentle advance to the first
place, but shone out in full lustre at once, and far surpassed all the
advocates of the bar. At first, it is said, he, as well as Demosthenes,
was defective in his delivery, and on that account paid much atten-
tion to the instructions, sometimes of Roscius the comedian, and
sometimes of ^sop the tragedian. They tell of this ^Esop, that
whilst he was representing on the theatre Atreus deliberating the

222 PLUTARCH S LIVES

revenge of Thyestes, he was so transported beyond himself in the
heat of action, that he struck with his sceptre one of the servants,
who was running across the stage, so violently, that he laid him
dead upon the place. And such afterwards was Cicero's delivery,
that it did not a little contribute to render his eloquence persuasive.
He used to ridicule loud speakers, saying that they shouted be-
cause they could not speak, like lame men who get on horseback
because they cannot walk. And his readiness and address in sar-
casm, and generally in witty sayings, was thought to suit a pleader
very well, and to be highly attractive, but his using it to excess
offended many, and gave him the repute of ill nature.

He was appointed quaestor in a great scarcity of corn, and had
Sicily for his province, where, though at first he displeased many,
by compelling them to send their provisions to Rome, yet after they
had had experience of his care, justice, and clemency, they honored
him more than ever they did any of their governors before. It hap-
pened, also, that some young Romans of good and noble families,
charged with neglect of discipline and misconduct in military service,
were brought before the prxtor in Sicily. Cicero undertook their
defence, which he conducted admirably, and got them acquitted.
So returning to Rome with a great opinion of himself for these
things, a ludicrous incident befell him, as he tells us himself. Meet-
ing an eminent citizen in Campania, whom he accounted his friend,
he asked him what the Romans said and thought of his actions, as
if the whole city had been filled with the glory of what he had done.
His friend asked him in reply, "Where is it you have been, Cicero?"
This for the time utterly mortified and cast him down, to perceive
that the report of his actions had sunk into the city of Rome as into
an immense ocean, without any visible effect or result in reputation.
And afterwards considering with himself that the glory he con-
tended for was an infinite thing, and that there was no fixed end
nor measure in its pursuit, he abated much of his ambitious thoughts.
Nevertheless, he was always excessively pleased with his own praise,
and continued to the very last to be passionately fond of glory;
which often interfered with the prosecution of his wisest resolutions.

On beginning to apply himself more resolutely to public business,
he remarked it as an unreasonable and absurd thing that artificers,

CICERO 223

using vessels and instruments inanimate, should know the name,
place, and use of every one of them, and yet the statesman, whose
instruments for carrying out public measures are men, should be
negligent and careless in the knowledge of persons. And so he not
only acquainted himself with the names, but also knew the particu-
lar place where every one of the more eminent citizens dwelt, what
lands he possessed, the friends he made use of, and those that were
of his neighborhood, and when he travelled on any road in Italy, he
could readily name and show the estates and seats of his friends
and acquaintances. Having so small an estate, though a sufficient
competency for his own expenses, it was much wondered at that
he took neither fees nor gifts from his clients, and more especially,
that he did not do so when he undertook the prosecution of Verres.
This Verres, who had been pranor of Sicily, and stood charged by
the Sicilians of many evil practices during his government there,
Cicero succeeded in getting condemned, not by speaking, but in a
manner by holding his tongue. For the prxtors, favoring Verres,
had deferred the trial by several adjournments to the last day, in
which it was evident there could not be sufficient time for the advo-
cates to be heard, and the cause brought to an issue. Cicero, there-
fore, came forward, and said there was no need of speeches; and
after producing and examining witnesses, he required the judges to
proceed to sentence. However, many witty sayings are on record,
as having been used by Cicero on the occasion. When a man named
Carcilius, one of the freed slaves, who was said to be given to Jewish
practices, would have put by the Sicilians, and undertaken the prose-
cution of Verres himself, Cicero asked, "What has a Jew to do with
swine?" verres being the Roman word for boar. And when Verres
began to reproach Cicero with effeminate living, "You ought," re-
plied he, "to use this language at home, to your sons;" Verres having
a son who had fallen into disgraceful courses. Hortensius the orator,
not daring directly to undertake the defence of Verres, was yet per-
suaded to appear for him at the laying on of the fine, and received
an ivory sphinx for his reward; and when Cicero, in some passage
of his speech, obliquely reflected on him, and Hortensius told him
he was not skilful in solving riddles, "No," said Cicero, "and yet
you have the Sphinx in your house!"

224 PLUTARCH S LIVES

Verres was thus convicted; though Cicero, who set the fine at
seventy-five myriads,* lay under the suspicion of being corrupted by
bribery to lessen the sum. But the Sicilians, in testimony of their
gratitude, came and brought him all sorts of presents from the island,
when he was ardile; of which he made no private profit himself, but
used their generosity only to reduce the public price of provisions.

He had a very pleasant seat at Arpi, 4 he had also a farm near
Naples, and another about Pompeii, but neither of any great value.
The portion of his wife, Terentia, amounted to ten myriads, and
he had a bequest valued at nine myriads of denarii; upon these he
lived in a liberal but temperate style, with the learned Greeks and
Romans that were his familiars. He rarely, if at any time, sat down
to meat till sunset, and that not so much on account of business, as
for his health and the weakness of his stomach. He was otherwise in
the care of his body nice and delicate, appointing himself, for ex-
ample, a set number of walks and rubbings. And after this manner
managing the habit of his body, he brought it in time to be health-
ful, and capable of supporting many great fatigues and trials. His
father's house he made over to his brother, living himself near the
Palatine hill, that he might not give the trouble of long journeys
to those that made suit to him. And, indeed, there were not fewer
daily appearing at his door, to do their court to him, than there
were that came to Crassus for his riches, or to Pompey for his power
amongst the soldiers, these being at that time the two men of the
greatest repute and influence in Rome. Nay, even Pompey himself
used to pay court to Cicero, and Cicero's public actions did much to
establish Pompey 's authority and reputation in the state.

Numerous distinguished competitors stood with him for the
praetor's office; but he was chosen before them all, and managed the
decision of causes with justice and integrity. It is related that
Licinius Macer, a man himself of great power in the city, and sup-
ported also by the assistance of Crassus, was accused before him of
extortion, and that, in confidence on his own interest and the dili-

' Seventy-five ten thousands, i. e. 750,000 drachmas; Plutarch most likely counting
the drachma as equivalent to the denarius. But the sum docs not agree with the figures
given in Cicero's own orations, and must be regarded as quite uncertain.

4 Plutarch calls it Arpi, which is far from Rome, in Apulia, but it is, of course,
Arpinum, Cicero's native place.

CICERO 225

gence of his friends, whilst the judges were debating about the sen-
tence, he went to his house, where hastily trimming his hair and
putting on a clean gown, as already acquitted, he was setting of]
again to go to the Forum; but at his hall door meeting Crassus, who
told him that he was condemned by all the votes, he went in again,
threw himself upon his bed, and died immediately. This verdict
was considered very creditable to Cicero, as showing his careful
management of the courts of justice. On another occasion, Vatinius.
a man of rude manners and often insolent in court to the magistrates,
who had large swellings on his neck, came before his tribunal and
made some request, and on Cicero's desiring further time to con-
sider it, told him that he himself would have made no question
about it, had he been pranor. Cicero, turning quickly upon him,
answered, "But I, you see, have not the neck that you have." *

When there were but two or three days remaining in his office.
Manilius was brought before him, and charged with peculation.
Manilius had the good opinion and favor of the common people,
and was thought to be prosecuted only for Pompey's sake, whose
particular friend he was. And therefore, when he asked a space
of time before his trial, and Cicero allowed him but one day, and
that the next only, the common people grew highly offended, be-
cause it had been the custom of the praetors to allow ten days at
least to the accused: and the tribunes of the people having called
him before the people, and accused him, he, desiring to be heard,
said, that as he had always treated the accused with equity and hu-
manity, as far as the law allowed, so he thought it hard to deny
the same to Manilius, and that he had studiously appointed that day
of which alone, as prartor, he was master, and that it was not the
part of those that were desirous to help him, to cast the judgment
of his cause upon another praetor. These things being said made
a wonderful change in the people, and, commending him much for
it, they desired that he himself would undertake the defence of
Manilius; which he willingly consented to, and that principally for
the sake of Pompey, who was absent. And, accordingly, taking

•The strong, thick neck was both in Greek and Latin the sign of the pushing,
unscrupulous man, who would take no refusal and stick at no doubt or difficulty. So
in the life of Marius.

226 plutarch's lives

his place before the people again, he delivered a bold invective upon
the oligarchical party and on those who were jealous of Pompey.

Yet he was preferred to the consulship no less by the nobles than
the common people, for the good of the city; and both parties
jointly assisted his promotion, upon the following reasons. The
change of government made by Sylla, which at first seemed a sense-
less one, by time and usage had now come to be considered by the
people no unsatisfactory setdement. But there were some that en-
deavored to alter and subvert the whole present state of affairs, not
from any good motives, but for their own private gain; and Pompey
being at this time employed in the wars with the kings of Pontus
and Armenia, there was no sufficient force at Rome to suppress any
attempts at a revolution. These people had for their head a man of
bold, daring, and restless character, Lucius Catiline, who was ac-
cused, besides other great offences, of deflouring his virgin daughter,
and killing his own brother; for which latter crime, fearing to be
prosecuted at law, he persuaded Sylla to set him down, as though he
were yet alive, amongst those that were to be put to death by pro-
scription. This man the profligate citizens choosing for their cap-
tain, gave faith to one another, amongst other pledges, by sacrificing
a man and eating of his flesh; and a great part of the young men
of the city were corrupted by him, he providing for every one
pleasures, drink, and women, and profusely supplying the expense
of these debauches. Etruria, moreover, had all been excited to re-
volt, as well as a great part of Gaul within the Alps. But Rome
itself was in the most dangerous inclination to change, on account
of the unequal distribution of wealth and property, those of highest
rank and greatest spirit having impoverished themselves by shows,
entertainments, ambition of offices, and sumptuous buildings, and
the riches of the city having thus fallen into the hands of mean and
low-born persons. So that there wanted but a slight impetus to set
all in motion, it being in the power of every daring man to overturn
a sickly commonwealth.

Catiline, however, being desirous of procuring a strong position
to carry out his designs, stood for the consulship, and had great hopes
of success, thinking he should be appointed, with Caius Antonius
as his colleague, who was a man fit to lead neither in a good cause nor

CICERO 227

in a bad one, but might be a valuable accession to another's power.
These things the greatest part of the good and honest citizens appre-
hending, put Cicero upon standing for the consulship; whom the
people readily receiving, Catiline was put by, so that he and Caius
Antonius were chosen, although amongst the competitors he was
the only man descended from a father of the equestrian, and not
of the senatorial order.

Though the designs of Catiline were not yet publicly known, yet
considerable preliminary troubles immediately followed upon the
consulship. For, on the one side, those who were disqualified by the
laws of Sylla from holding any public offices, being neither incon-
siderable in power nor in number, came forward as candidates and
caressed the people for them; speaking many things truly and justly
against the tyranny of Sylla, only that they disturbed the government
at an improper and unseasonable time; on the other hand, the
tribunes of the people proposed laws to the same purpose, consti-
tuting a commission of ten persons, with unlimited powers, in whom
as supreme governors should be vested the right of selling the pub-
lic lands of Italy and Syria and Pompey's new conquests, of judging
and banishing whom they pleased, of planting colonies, of taking
moneys out of the treasury, and of levying and paying what soldiers
should be thought needful. And several of the nobility favored this
law, but especially Caius Antonius, Cicero's colleague, in hopes of
being one of the ten. But what gave the greatest fear to the nobles
was, that he was thought privy to the conspiracy of Catiline, and
not to dislike it, because of his great debts.

Cicero, endeavoring in the first place to provide a remedy against
this danger, procured a decree assigning to him the province of
Macedonia, he himself declining that of Gaul, which was offered to
him. And this piece of favor so completely won over Antonius, that
he was ready to second and respond to, like a hired player, what-
ever Cicero said for the good of the country. And now, having made
his colleague thus tame and tractable, he could with greater courage
attack the conspirators. And, therefore, in the senate, making an
oration against the law of the ten commissioners, he so confounded
those who proposed it, that they had nothing to reply. And when
they again endeavored, and, having prepared things beforehand,

228 plutarch's lives

had called the consuls before the assembly of the people, Cicero,
fearing nothing, went first out, and commanded the senate to follow
him, and not only succeeded in throwing out the law, but so entirely
overpowered the tribunes by his oratory, that they abandoned all
thought of their other projects.

For Cicero, it may be said, was the one man above all others,
who made the Romans feel how great a charm eloquence lends
to what is good, and how invincible justice is, if it be well spoken;
and that it is necessary for him who would dexterously govern a
commonwealth, in action, always to prefer that which is honest
before that which is popular, and in speaking, to free the right and
useful measure from every thing that may occasion offence. An in-
cident occurred in the theatre, during his consulship, which showed
what his speaking could do. For whereas formerly the knights of
Rome were mingled in the theatre with the common people, and
took their places amongst them as it happened, Marcus Otho, when
he was praetor, was the first who distinguished them from the other
citizens, and appointed them a proper seat, which they still enjoy
as their special place in the theatre. This the common people took
as an indignity done to them, and, therefore, when Otho appeared
in the theatre, they hissed him; the knights, on the contrary, re-
ceived him with loud clapping. The people repeated and increased
their hissing; the knights continued their clapping. Upon this, turn-
ing upon one another, they broke out into insulting words, so that
the theatre was in great disorder. Cicero, being informed of it, came
himself to the theatre, and summoning the people into the temple of
Bellona, he so effectually chid and chastised them for it, that, again
returning into the theatre, they received Otho with loud applause,
contending with the knights who should give him the greatest
demonstrations of honor and respect.

The conspirators with Catiline, at first cowed and disheartened,
began presently to take courage again. And assembling themselves
together, they exhorted one another boldly to undertake the design
before Pompey's return, who, as it was said, was now on his march
with his forces for Rome. But the old soldiers of Sylla were Catiline's
chief stimulus to action. They had been disbanded all about Italy,
but the greatest number and the fiercest of them lay scattered among

CICERO 229

the cities of Etruria, entertaining themselves with dreams of new
plunder and rapine amongst the hoarded riches of Italy. These,
having for their leader Manlius, who had served with distinction
in the wars under Sylla, joined themselves to Catiline, and came to
Rome to assist him with their suffrages at the election. For he again
pretended to the consulship, having resolved to kill Cicero in a
tumult at the elections. Also, the divine powers seemed to give
intimation of the coming troubles, by earthquakes, thunderbolts,
and strange appearances. Nor was human evidence wanting, certain
enough in itself, though not sufficient for the conviction of the noble
and powerful Catiline. Therefore Cicero, deferring the day of elec-
tion, summoned Catiline into the senate, and questioned him as to
the charges made against him. Catiline, believing there were many
in the senate desirous of change, and to give a specimen of him-
self to the conspirators present, returned an audacious answer, "What
harm," said he, "when I see two bodies, the one lean and consump-
tive with a head, the other great and strong without one, if I put
a head to that body which wants one?" This covert representation
of the senate and the people excited yet greater apprehensions in
Cicero. He put on armor, and was attended from his house by the
noble citizens in a body; and a number of the young men went
with him into the Plain. Here, designedly letting his tunic slip
partly off from his shoulders, he showed his armor underneath, and
discovered his danger to the spectators; who, being much moved at
it, gathered round about him for his defence. At length, Catiline
was by a general suffrage again put by, and Silanus and Murena
chosen consuls.

Not long after this, Catiline's soldiers got together in a body in
Etruria, and began to form themselves into companies, the day ap-
pointed for the design being near at hand. About midnight, some
of the principal and most powerful citizens of Rome, Marcus Cras-
sus, Marcus Marcellus, and Scipio Mettellus went to Cicero's house,
where, knocking at the gate, and calling up the porter, they com-
manded him to awake Cicero, and tell him they were there. The
business was this: Crassus's porter after supper had delivered to
him letters brought by an unknown person. Some of them were
directed to others, but one to Crassus, without a name; this only

23O PLUTARCH S LIVES

Crassus read, which informed him that there was a great slaughter
intended by Catiline, and advised him to leave the city. The others
he did not open, but went with them immediately by Cicero, being
affrighted at the danger, and to free himself of the suspicion he lay
under for his familiarity with Catiline. Cicero, considering the mat-
ter, summoned the senate at break of day. The letters he brought
with him, and delivered them to those to whom they were directed,
commanding them to read them publicly; they all alike contained
an account of the conspiracy. And when Quintus Arrius, a man
of praetorian dignity, recounted to them, how soldiers were collect-
ing in companies in Etruria, and Manlius stated to be in motion with
a large force, hovering about those cities, in expectation of intelli-
gence from Rome, the senate made a decree, to place all in the hands
of the consuls, who should undertake the conduct of every thing,
and do their best to save the state. 6 This was not a common thing,
but only done by the senate in case of imminent danger.

After Cicero had received this power, he committed all affairs
outside to Quintus Metellus, but the management of the city he
kept in his own hands. Such a numerous attendance guarded him
every day when he went abroad, that the greatest part of the market-
place 7 was filled with his train when he entered it. Catiline, impatient
of further delay, resolved himself to break forth and go to Manlius,
but he commanded Marcius and Cethegus to take their swords,
and go early in the morning to Cicero's gates, as if only intending
to salute him, and then to fall upon him and slay him. This a noble
lady, Fulvia, coming by night, discovered to Cicero, bidding him
beware of Cethegus and Marcius. They came by break of day, and
being denied entrance, made an outcry and disturbance at the gates,
which excited all the more suspicion. But Cicero, going forth, sum-
moned the senate into the temple of Jupiter Stator, which stands at
the end of the Sacred Street, going up to the Palatine. And when
Catiline with others of his party also came, as intending to make
his defence, none of the senators would sit by him, but all of them
left the bench where he had placed himself. And when he began

1 Dent operam consules ne quid rcspublica dctrimenti capiat," the usual form for
suspending other authority, and arming the consuls with discretionary power; much
the same as placing the town in a state of siege.

' The Forum.

CICERO 231

to speak, they interrupted him with outcries. At length Cicero,
standing up, commanded him to leave the city, for since one gov-
erned the commonwealth with words, the other with arms, it was
necessary there should be a wall betwixt them. Catiline, therefore,
immediately left the town, with three hundred armed men; and
assuming, as if he had been a magistrate, the rods, axes, and military
ensigns, he went to Manlius, and having got together a body of near
twenty thousand men, with these he marched to the several cities,
endeavoring to persuade or force them to revolt. So it being now
come to open war, Antonius was sent forth to fight him.

The remainder of those in the city whom he had corrupted,
Cornelius Lent ul us kept together and encouraged. He had the sur-
name Sura, and was a man of a noble family, but a dissolute liver,
who for his debauchery was formerly turned out of the senate, and
was now holding the office of prauor for the second time, as the
custom is with those who desire to regain the dignity of senator. It
is said that he got the surname Sura upon this occasion; being
quxstor in the time of Sylla, he had lavished away and consumed a
great quantity of the public moneys, at which Sylla being provoked,
called him to give an account in the senate; he appeared with great
coolness and contempt, and said he had no account to give, but they
might take this, holding up the calf of his leg, as boys do at ball,
when they have missed. Upon which he was surnamed Sura, sura
being the Roman word for the calf of the leg. Being at another
time prosecuted at law, and having bribed some of the judges, he
escaped only by two votes, and complained of the needless expense
he had gone to in paying for a second, as one would have sufficed
to acquit him. This man, such in his own nature, and now inflamed
by Catiline, false prophets and fortune-tellers had also corrupted
with vain hopes, quoting to him fictitious verses and oracles, and
proving from the Sibylline prophecies that there were three of the
name Cornelius designed by fate to be monarchs of Rome; two of
whom, Cinna and Sylla, had already fulfilled the decree, and that
divine fortune was now advancing with the gift of monarchy for
the remaining third Cornelius; and that therefore he ought by all
means to accept it, and not lose opportunity by delay, as Catiline
had done.

232 plutarch's lives

Lentulus, therefore, designed no mean or trivial matter, for he
had resolved to kill the whole senate, and as many other citizens
as he could, to fire the city, and spare nobody, except only Pompey's
children, intending to seize and keep them as pledges of his recon-
ciliation with Pompey. For there was then a common and strong
report that Pompey was on his way homeward from his great expe-
dition. The night appointed for the design was one of the Satur-
nalia; swords, flax, and sulphur they carried and hid in the house
of Cethegus; and providing one hundred men, and dividing the city
into as many parts, they had allotted to every one singly his proper
place, so that in a moment many kindling the fire, the city might be
in a flame all together. Others were appointed to stop up the aque-
ducts, and to kill those who should endeavor to carry water to put
it out. Whilst these plans were preparing, it happened there were
two ambassadors from the Allobroges staying in Rome; a nation
at that time in a distressed condition, and very uneasy under the
Roman government. These Lentulus and his party judging useful
instruments to move and seduce Gaul to revolt, admitted into the
conspiracy, and they gave them letters to their own magistrates, and
letters to Catiline; in those they promised liberty, in these they ex-
horted Catiline to set all slaves free, and to bring them along with
him to Rome. They sent also to accompany them to Catiline, one
Titus, a native of Croton, who was to carry those letters to him.

These counsels of inconsidering men, who conversed together
over wine and with women, Cicero watched with sober industry
and forethought, and with most admirable sagacity, having several
emissaries abroad, who observed and traced with him all that was
done, and keeping also a secret correspondence with many who pre-
tended to join in the conspiracy. He thus knew all the discourse
which passed betwixt them and the strangers; and lying in wait
for them by night, he took the Crotonian with his letters, the
ambassadors of the Allobroges acting secretly in concert with him.

By break of day, he summoned the senate into the temple of
Concord, where he read the letters and examined the informers.
Junius Silanus further stated, that several persons had heard Cethe-
gus say, that three consuls and four praetors were to be slain; Piso,
also, a person of consular dignity testified other matters of the like

CICERO 233

nature; and Caius Sulpicius, one of the prauors, being sent to Cethe-
gus's house, found there a quantity of darts and of armor, and a
still greater number of swords and daggers, all recently whetted.
At length, the senate decreeing indemnity to the Crotonian upon his
confession of the whole matter, Lentulus was convicted, abjured his
office (for he was then prastor), and put off his robe edged with
purple in the senate, changing it for another garment more agree-
able to his present circumstances. He, thereupon, with the rest of
his confederates present, was committed to the charge of the prxtors
in free custody.

It being evening, and the common people in crowds expecting
without, Cicero went forth to them, and told them what was done,
and then, attended by them, went to the house of a friend and
near neighbor; for his own was taken up by the women, who were
celebrating with secret rites the feast of the goddess whom the
Romans call the Good, and the Greeks, the Women's goddess. For
a sacrifice is annually performed to her in the consul's house, either
by his wife or mother, in the presence of the vestal virgins. And
having got into his friend's house privately, a few only being present,
he began to deliberate how he should treat these men. The sever-
est, and the only punishment fit for such heinous crimes, he was
somewhat shy and fearful of inflicting, as well from the clemency
of his nature, as also lest he should be thought to exercise his author-
ity too insolently, and to treat too harshly men of the noblest birth
and most powerful friendships in the city; and yet, if he should use
them more mildly, he had a dreadful prospect of danger from them.
For there was no likelihood, if they suffered less than death, they
would be reconciled, but rather, adding new rage to their former
wickedness, they would rush into every kind of audacity, while he
himself, whose character for courage already did not stand very high
with the multitude, would be thought guilty of the greatest coward-
ice and want of manliness.

Whilst Cicero was doubting what course to take, a portent hap-
pened to the women in their sacrificing. For on the altar, where the
fire seemed wholly extinguished, a great and bright flame issued
forth from the ashes of the burnt wood; at which others were
affrighted, but the holy virgins called to Terentia, Cicero's wife, and

234 PLUTARCH S LIVES

bade her haste to her husband, and command him to execute what
he had resolved for the good of his country, for the goddess had
sent a great light to the increase of his safety and glory. Terentia,
therefore, as she was otherwise in her own nature neither tender-
hearted nor timorous, but a woman eager for distinction (who, as
Cicero himself says, would rather thrust herself into his public
affairs, than communicate her domestic matters to him), told him
these things, and excited him against the conspirators. So also did
Quintus his brother, and Publius Nigidius, one of his philosophical
friends, whom he often made use of in his greatest and most weighty
affairs of state.

The next day, a debate arising in the senate about the punishment
of the men, Silanus, being the first who was asked his opinion,
said, it was fit they should be all sent to the prison, and there suffer
the utmost penalty. To him all consented in order till it came to
Caius Caesar, who was afterwards dictator. He was then but a
young man, and only at the outset of his career, but had already
directed his hopes and policy to that course by which he afterwards
changed the Roman state into a monarchy. Of this others foresaw
nothing; but Cicero had seen reason for strong suspicion, though
without obtaining any sufficient means of proof. And there were
some indeed that said that he was very near being discovered, and
only just escaped him; others are of opinion that Cicero voluntarily
overlooked and neglected the evidence against him, for fear of his
friends and power; for it was very evident to everybody, that if
Caesar was to be accused with the conspirators, they were more likely
to be saved with him, than he to be punished with them.

When, therefore, it came to Caesar's turn to give his opinion, he
stood up and proposed that the conspirators should not be put to
death, but their estates confiscated, and their persons confined in
such cities in Italy as Cicero should approve, there to be kept in
custody till Catiline was conquered. To this sentence, as it was the
most moderate, and he that delivered it a most powerful speaker,
Cicero himself gave no small weight, for he stood up and, turning
the scale on either side, spoke in favor partly of the former, partly
of Caesar's sentence. And all Cicero's friends, judging Caesar's sen-
tence most expedient for Cicero, because he would incur the less

CICERO 235

blame if the conspirators were not put to death, chose rather the
latter; so that Silanus, also, changing his mind, retracted his opinion,
and said he had not declared for capital, but only the utmost pun-
ishment, which to a Roman senator is imprisonment. The first man
who spoke against Caesar's motion was Catulus Lutatius. Cato fol-
lowed, and so vehemently urged in his speech the strong suspicion
about Caesar himself, and so filled the senate with anger and resolu-
tion, that a decree was passed for the execution of the conspirators.
But Caesar opposed the confiscation of their goods, not thinking it
fair that those who had rejected the mildest part of his sentence
should avail themselves of the severest. And when many insisted
upon it, he appealed to the tribunes, but they would do nothing;
till Cicero himself yielding, remitted that part of the sentence.

After this, Cicero went out with the senate to the conspirators;
they were not all together in one place, but the several praetors had
then, some one, some another, in custody. And first he took Len-
tulus from the Palatine, and brought him by the Sacred Street,
through the middle of the market-place, a circle of the most emi-
nent citizens encompassing and protecting him. The people, af-
frighted at what was doing, passed along in silence, especially the
young men; as if, with fear and trembling, they were undergoing a
rite of initiation into some ancient, sacred mysteries of aristocratic
power. Thus passing from the market-place, and coming to the gaol,
he delivered Lentulus to the officer, and commanded him to execute
him; and after him Cethegus, and so all the rest in order, he brought
and delivered up to execution. And when he saw many of the con-
spirators in the market-place, still standing together in companies,
ignorant of what was done, and waiting for the night, supposing the
men were still alive and in a possibility of being rescued, he called
out in a loud voice, and said, "They did live"; for so the Romans,
to avoid inauspicious language, name those that are dead.

It was now evening, when he returned from the market-place
to his own house, the citizens no longer attending him with silence,
nor in order, but receiving him, as he passed, with acclamations and
applauses, and saluting him as the saviour and founder of his coun-
try. A bright light shone through the streets from the lamps and
torches set up at the doors, and the women showed lights from the

236 plutarch's lives

tops of the houses, to honor Cicero, and to behold him returning
home with a splendid train of the most principal citizens; amongst
whom were many who had conducted great wars, celebrated tri-
umphs, and added to the possessions of the Roman empire, both by
sea and land. These, as they passed along with him, acknowledged
to one another, that though the Roman people were indebted to
several officers and commanders of that age for riches, spoils, and
power, yet to Cicero alone they owed the safety and security of all
these, for delivering them from so great and imminent a danger.
For though it might seem no wonderful thing to prevent the design,
and punish the conspirators, yet to defeat the greatest of all conspira-
cies with so little disturbance, trouble, and commotion, was very
extraordinary. For the greater part of those who had flocked in to
Catiline, as soon as they heard the fate of Lentulus and Cethegus,
left and forsook him, and he himself, with his remaining forces,
joining battle with Antonius, was destroyed with his army.

And yet there were some who were very ready both to speak ill
of Cicero, and to do him hurt for these actions; and they had for
their leaders some of the magistrates of the ensuing year, as Carsar,
who was one of the prators, and Metellus and Bestia, the tribunes.
These, entering upon their office some few days before Cicero's con-
sulate expired, would not permit him to make any address to the
people, but, throwing the benches before the Rostra, hindered his
speaking, telling him he might, if he pleased, make the oath of with-
drawal from office, and then come down again. Cicero, accordingly,
accepting the conditions, came forward to make his withdrawal; and
silence being made, he recited his oath, not in the usual, but in a
new and peculiar form, namely, that he had saved his country, and
preserved the empire; the truth of which oath all the people con-
firmed with theirs. Caesar and the tribunes, all the more exasper-
ated by this, endeavored to create him further trouble, and for this
purpose proposed a law for calling Pompey home with his army, to
put an end to Cicero's usurpation. But it was a very great advan-
tage for Cicero and the whole commonwealth that Cato was at that
time one of the tribunes. For he, being of equal power with the rest,
and of greater reputation, could oppose their designs. He easily de-
feated their other projects, and, in an oration to the people, so highly

CICERO 237

extolled Cicero's consulate, that the greatest honors were decreed
him, and he was publicly declared the Father of his Country, which
title he seems to have obtained, the first man who did so, when Cato
gave it him in this address to the people.

At this time, therefore, his authority was very great in the city;
but he created himself much envy, and offended very many, not
by any evil action, but because he was always lauding and magni-
fying himself. For neither senate, nor assembly of the people, nor
court of judicature could meet, in which he was not heard to talk of
Catiline and Lentulus. Indeed, he also filled his books and writings
with his own praises, to such an excess as to render a style, in itself
most pleasant and delightful, nauseous and irksome to his hearers;
this ungrateful humor, like a disease, always cleaving to him. Never-
theless, though he was intemperately fond of his own glory, he was
very free from envying others, and was, on the contrary, most lib-
erally profuse in commending both the ancients and his contempo-
raries, as any one may see in his writings. And many such sayings
of his are also remembered; as that he called Aristotle a river of
flowing gold, and said of Plato's Dialogues, that if Jupiter were to
speak, it would be in language like theirs. He used to call Theo-
phrastus his special luxury. And being asked which of Demos-
thenes's orations he liked best, he answered, the longest. And yet
some affected imitators of Demosthenes have complained of some
words that occur in one of his letters, to the effect that Demosthenes
sometimes falls asleep in his speeches; forgetting the many high
encomiums he continually passes upon him, and the compliment he
paid him when he named the most elaborate of all his orations,
those he wrote against Antony, Philippics. And as for the eminent
men of his own time, either in eloquence or philosophy, there was
not one of them whom he did not, by writing or speaking favorably
of him, render more illustrious. He obtained of Caesar, when in
power, the Roman citizenship for Cratippus, the Peripatetic, and got
the court of Areopagus, by public decree, to request his stay at
Athens, for the instruction of their youth, and the honor of their
city. There are letters extant from Cicero to Herodes, and others to
his son, in which he recommends the study of philosophy under
Cratippus. There is one in which he blames Gorgias, the rhetorician,

238 plutarch's lives

for enticing his son into luxury and drinking, and, therefore, forbids
him his company. And this, and one other to Pelops, the Byzantine,
are the only two of his Greek epistles which seem to be written in
anger. In the first, he justly reflects on Gorgias, if he were what he
was thought to be, a dissolute and profligate character; but in the
other, he rather meanly expostulates and complains with Pelops, for
neglecting to procure him a decree of certain honors from the
Byzantines.

Another illustration of his love of praise is the way in which
sometimes, to make his orations more striking, he neglected de-
corum and dignity. When Munatius, who had escaped conviction
by his advocacy, immediately prosecuted his friend Sabinus, he said
in the warmth of his resentment, "Do you suppose you were ac-
quitted for your own merits, Munatius, and was it not that I so dark-
ened the case, that the court could not see your guilt?" When from
the Rostra he had made an eulogy on Marcus Crassus, with much ap-
plause, and within a few days after again as publicly reproached
him, Crassus called to him, and said, "Did not you yourself two
days ago, in this same place, commend me?" "Yes," said Cicero, "I
exercised my eloquence in declaiming upon a bad subject." At an-
other time, Crassus had said that no one of his family had ever lived
beyond sixty years of age, and afterwards denied it, and asked,
"What should put it into my head to say so?" "It was to gain the
people's favor," answered Cicero; "you knew how glad they would
be to hear it." When Crassus expressed admiration of the Stoic
doctrine, that the good man is always rich, "Do you not mean,"
said Cicero, "their doctrine that all things belong to the wise?"
Crassus being generally accused of covetousness. One of Crassus's
sons, who was thought so exceedingly like a man of the name of
Axius as to throw some suspicion on his mother's honor, made a
successful speech in the senate. Cicero on being asked how he liked
it, replied with the Greek words, Axios Crassou.*

When Crassus was about to go into Syria, he desired to leave

* Which may mean, cither worthy of Crassus, or Crassus's son Axius. The jest on
the Stoic doctrines is also rather obscure. Crassus appears to have praised the first
dictum in its proper philosophical sense; that the only truly rich man is he who is
virtuous; Cicero suggests, that a text which is more to Crassus's purpose is the other,
that the wise man is the possessor of all things, that is, may make himself as rich as he
pleases.

CICERO 239

Cicero rather his friend than his enemy, and, therefore, one day
saluting him, told him he would come and sup with him, which the
other as courteously received. Within a few days after, on some of
Cicero's acquaintances interceding for Vatinius, as desirous of rec-
onciliation and friendship, for he was then his enemy, "What," he
replied, "does Vatinius also wish to come and sup with me?" Such
was his way with Crassus. When Vatinius, who had swellings in his
neck, was pleading a cause, he called him the tumid orator; and
having been told by some one that Vatinius was dead, on hearing
presently after that he was alive, "May the rascal perish," said he,
"for his news not being true."

Upon Caesar's bringing forward a law for the division of the
lands in Campania amongst the soldiers, many in the senate opposed
it; amongst the rest, Lucius Gellius, one of the oldest men in the
house, said it should never pass whilst he lived. "Let us postpone
it," said Cicero, "Gellius does not ask us to wait long." There was a
man of the name of Octavius, suspected to be of African descent.
He once said, when Cicero was pleading that he could not hear him;
"Yet there are holes," said Cicero, "in your ears." * When Metellus
Nepos told him, that he had ruined more as a witness, than he had
saved as an advocate, "I admit," said Cicero, "that I have more
truth than eloquence." To a young man who was suspected of
having given a poisoned cake to his father, and who talked largely
of the invectives he meant to deliver against Cicero, "Better these,"
replied he, "than your cakes." Publius Sextius, having amongst
others retained Cicero as his advocate in a certain cause, was yet
desirous to say all for himself, and would not allow anybody to
speak for him; when he was about to receive his acquittal from the
judges, and the ballots were passing, Cicero called to him, "Make
haste, Sextius, and use your time; to-morrow you will be nobody."
He cited Publius Cotta to bear testimony in a certain cause, one who
affected to be thought a lawyer, though ignorant and unlearned; to
whom, when he had said, "I know nothing of the matter," he
answered, "You think, perhaps, we ask you about a point of law."
To Metellus Nepos, who, in a dispute between them, repeated sev-

*The marks of the cars having been bored for ear-rings would be considered proof
of his being of barbarian origin.

24O PLUTARCH S LIVES

eral times, "Who was your father, Cicero?" he replied, "Your mother
has made the answer to such a question in your case more difficult;"
Nepos's mother having been of ill repute. The son, also, was of a
giddy, uncertain temper. At one time, he suddenly threw up his
office of tribune, and sailed off into Syria to Pompey; and imme-
diately after, with as little reason, came back again. He gave his
tutor, Philagrus, a funeral with more than necessary attention, and
then set up the stone figure of a crow over his tomb. "This," said
Cicero, "is really appropriate; as he did not teach you to speak, but
to fly about." When Marcus Appius, in the opening of some speech
in a court of justice, said that his friend had desired him to employ
industry, eloquence, and fidelity in that cause, Cicero answered,
"And how have you had the heart not to accede to any one of his
requests?"

To use this sharp raillery against opponents and antagonists in
judicial pleading seems allowable rhetoric. But he excited much ill
feeling by his readiness to attack any one for the sake of a jest. A
few anecdotes of this kind may be added. Marcus Aquinius, who
had two sons-in-law in exile, received from him the name of king
Adrastus. 10 Lucius Cotta, an intemperate lover of wine, was censor
when Cicero stood for the consulship. Cicero, being thirsty at the
election, his friends stood round about him while he was drinking.
"You have reason to be afraid," he said, "lest the censor should be
angry with me for drinking water." Meeting one day Voconius
with his three very ugly daughters, he quoted the verse,

"He reared a race without Apollo's leave."
When Marcus Gellius, who was reputed the son of a slave, had read
several letters in the senate with a very shrill, and loud voice, "Won-
der not," said Cicero, "he comes of the criers." When Faustus Sylla,
the son of Sylla the dictator, who had during his dictatorship, by
public bills proscribed and condemned so many citizens, had so far
wasted his estate, and got into debt, that he was forced to publish
his bills of sale, Cicero told him that he liked these bills much better

10 Adrastus, king of Argos, married his daughters to the exiles, Tydeus and Polynices.
The verse below, quoted from a tragedy, must refer to Laius and his son, born
against the warning of the oracle, CEdipus. "Without Apollo's leave" would be a
phrase like "invita Minerva" applied to any unsuccessful, or infelicitous, or injudicious
proceeding.

CICERO 24I

than those of his father. By this habit he made himself odious with
many people.

But Clodius's faction conspired against him upon the following
occasion. Clodius was a member of a noble family, in the flower of
his youth, and of a bold and resolute temper. He, being in love with
Pompeia, Cxsar's wife, got privately into his house in the dress and
attire of a music-girl ; the women being at that time offering there the
sacrifice which must not be seen by men, and there was no man pres-
ent. Clodius, being a youth and beardless, hoped to get to Pompeia
among the women without being taken notice of. But coming into
a great house by night, he missed his way in the passages, and a
servant belonging to Aurelia, Caesar's mother, spying him wander-
ing up and down, inquired his name. Thus being necessitated to
speak, he told her he was seeking for one of Pompeia's maids, Abra
by name; and she, perceiving it not to be a woman's voice, shrieked
out, and called in the women; who, shutting the gates, and search-
ing every place, at length found Clodius hidden in the chamber of
the maid with whom he had come in. This matter being much
talked about, Carsar put away his wife, Pompeia, and Clodius was
prosecuted for profaning the holy rites.

Cicero was at this time his friend, for he had been useful to him
in the conspiracy of Catiline, as one of his forwardest assistants and
protectors. But when Clodius rested his defence upon this point,
that he was not then at Rome, but at a distance in the country,
Cicero testified that he had come to his house that day, and con-
versed with him on several matters; which thing was indeed true,
although Cicero was thought to testify it not so much for the
truth's sake as to preserve his quiet with Terentia his wife. For she
bore a grudge against Clodius on account of his sister Clodia's wish-
ing, as it was alleged, to marry Cicero, and having employed for
this purpose the intervention of Tullus, a very intimate friend of
Cicero's; and his frequent visits to Clodia, who lived in their neigh-
borhood, and the attentions he paid to her had excited Terentia's
suspicions, and, being a woman of a violent temper, and having the
ascendant over Cicero, she urged him on to taking a part against
Clodius, and delivering his testimony. Many other good and honest
citizens also gave evidence against him, for perjuries, disorders, brib-

242 PLUTARCH S LIVES

ing the people, and debauching women. Lucullus proved, by his
women-servants, that he had debauched his youngest sister when she
was Lucullus's wife; and there was a general belief that he had done
the same with his two other sisters, Tenia, whom Marcius Rex, and
Clodia, whom Metellus Celer had married; the latter of whom was
called Quadrantia, because one of her lovers had deceived her with
a purse of small copper money instead of silver, the smallest copper
coin being called a quadrant. Upon this sister's account, in particu-
lar, Clodius's character was attacked. Notwithstanding all this,
when the common people united against the accusers and witnesses
and the whole party, the judges were affrighted, and a guard was
placed about them for their defence; and most of them wrote their
sentences on the tablets in such a way, that they could not well be
read. It was decided, however, that there was a majority for his
acquittal, and bribery was reported to have been employed; in ref-
erence to which Catulus remarked, when he next met the judges,
"You were very right to ask for a guard, to prevent your money
being taken from you." And when Clodius upbraided Cicero that
the judges had not believed his testimony, "Yes," said he, "five and
twenty of them trusted me, and condemned you, and the other
thirty did not trust you, for they did not acquit you till they had
got your money."

Cxsar, though cited, did not give his testimony against Clodius,
and declared himself not convinced of his wife's adultery, but that
he had put her away because it was fit that Caesar's house should
not be only free of the evil fact, but of the fame too.

Clodius, having escaped this danger, and having got himself
chosen one of the tribunes, immediately attacked Cicero, heaping up
all matters and inciting all persons against him. The common
people he gained over with popular laws; to each of the consuls he
decreed large provinces, to Piso, Macedonia, and to Gabinius, Syria;
he made a strong party among the indigent citizens, to support him
in his proceedings, and had always a body of armed slaves about
him. Of the three men then in greatest power, Crassus was Cicero's
open enemy, Pompey indifferently made advances to both, and
Caesar was going with an army into Gaul. To him, though not his
friend (what had occurred in the time of the conspiracy having

CICERO 243

created suspicions between them), Cicero applied, requesting an
appointment as one of his lieutenants in the province. Caesar accepted
him, and Clodius, perceiving that Cicero would thus escape his
tribunician authority, professed to be inclinable to a reconciliation,
laid the greatest fault upon Terentia, made always a favorable men-
tion of him, and addressed him with kind expressions, as one who
felt no hatred or ill-will, but who merely wished to urge his com-
plaints in a moderate and friendly way. By these artifices, he so
freed Cicero of all his fears, that he resigned his appointment to
Caesar, and betook himself again to political affairs. At which Caesar
being exasperated, joined the party of Clodius against him, and
wholly alienated Pompey from him; he also himself declared in a
public assembly of the people, that he did not think Lentulus and
Cethegus, with their accomplices, were fairly and legally put to
death without being brought to trial. And this, indeed, was the
crime charged upon Cicero, and this impeachment he was sum-
moned to answer. And so, as an accused man, and in danger for
the result, he changed his dress, and went round with his hair un-
trimmed, in the attire of a suppliant, to beg the people's grace. But
Clodius met him in every corner, having a band of abusive and
daring fellows about him, who derided Cicero for his change of dress
and his humiliation, and often, by throwing dirt and stones at him,
interrupted his supplication to the people.

However, first of all, almost the whole equestrian order changed
their dress with him, and no less than twenty thousand young
gendemen followed him with their hair untrimmed, and suppli-
cating with him to the people. And then the senate met, to pass a
decree that the people should change their dress as in time of pub-
lic sorrow. But the consuls opposing it, and Clodius with armed
men besetting the senate-house, many of the senators ran out, cry-
ing out and tearing their clothes. But this sight moved neither
shame nor pity; Cicero must either fly or determine it by the sword
with Clodius. He entreated Pompey to aid him, who was on pur-
pose gone out of the way, and was staying at his country-house in
the Alban hills; and first he sent his son-in-law Piso to intercede
with him, and afterwards set out to go himself. Of which Pompey
being informed, would not stay to see him, being ashamed at the

244 PLUTARCH S LIVES

remembrance of the many conflicts in the commonwealth which
Cicero had undergone in his behalf, and how much of his policy he
had directed for his advantage. But being now Caesar's son-in-law,
at his instance he had set aside all former kindness, and, slipping
out at another door, avoided the interview. Thus being forsaken
by Pompey, and left alone to himself, he fled to the consuls. Gabi-
nius was rough with him, as usual, but Piso spoke more courteously,
desiring him to yield and give place for a while to the fury of
Clodius, and await a change of times, and to be now, as before, his
country's savior from the peril of these troubles and commotions
which Clodius was exciting.

Cicero, receiving this answer, consulted with his friends. Lucul-
lus advised him to stay, as being sure to prevail at last; others to fly,
because the people would soon desire him again, when they should
have enough of the rage and madness of Clodius. This last Cicero
approved. But first he took a statue of Minerva, which had been
long set up and greatly honored in his house, and carrying it to the
capitol, there dedicated it, with the inscription, "To Minerva, Pa-
troness of Rome." And receiving an escort from his friends, about
the middle of the night he left the city, and went by land through
Lucania, intending to reach Sicily.

But as soon as it was publicly known that he was fled, Clodius
proposed to the people a decree of exile, and by his own order inter-
dicted him fire and water, prohibiting any within five hundred miles
in Italy to receive him into their houses. Most people, out of respect
for Cicero, paid no regard to this edict, offering him every atten-
tion, and escorting him on his way. But at Hipponium, a city of
Lucania, now called Vibo, one Vibius, a Sicilian by birth, who,
amongst many other instances of Cicero's friendship, had been made
head of the state engineers when he was consul, would not receive
him into his house, sending him word he would appoint a place in
the country for his reception. Caius Vergilius, the praetor of Sicily,
who had been on the most intimate terms with him, wrote to him to
forbear coming into Sicily. At these things Cicero being disheart-
ened, went to Brundusium, whence putting forth with a prosperous
wind, a contrary gale blowing from the sea carried him back to Italy
the next day. He put again to sea, and having reached Dyrrachium,

CICERO 245

on his coming to shore there, it is reported that an earthquake and
a convulsion in the sea happened at the same time, signs which the
diviners said intimated that his exile would not be long, for these
were prognostics of change. Although many visited him with respect,
and the cities of Greece contended which should honor him most,
he yet continued disheartened and disconsolate, like an unfortunate
lover, often casting his looks back upon Italy; and, indeed, he was
become so poor-spirited, so humiliated and dejected by his misfor-
tunes, as none could have expected in a man who had devoted so
much of his life to study and learning. And yet he often desired his
friends not to call him orator, but philosopher, because he had made
philosophy his business, and had only used rhetoric as an instru-
ment for attaining his objects in public life. But the desire of glory"
has great power in washing the tinctures of philosophy out of the
souls of men, and in imprinting the passions of the common people,
by custom and conversation, in the minds of those that take a part
in governing them, unless the politician be very careful so to engage
in public affairs as to interest himself only in the affairs themselves,
but not participate in the passions that are consequent to them.

Clodius, having thus driven away Cicero, fell to burning his
farms and villas, and afterwards his city house, and built on the site
of it a temple to Liberty. The rest of his property he exposed to sale
by daily proclamation, but nobody came to buy. By these courses he
became formidable to the noble citizens, and, being followed by the
commonalty, whom he had filled with insolence and licentiousness,
he began at last to try his strength against Pompey, some of whose
arrangements in the countries he conquered, he attacked. The dis-
grace of this made Pompey begin to reproach himself for his cow-
ardice in deserting Cicero, and, changing his mind, he now wholly
set himself with his friends to contrive his return. And when
Clodius opposed it, the senate made a vote that no public measure

" Doxa, the Greek word for "the desire of glory," should, perhaps, be translated
"opinion." It is, in its original sense, "what people think," and is commonly used for
people's good opinion, "glory," or "reputation." On the other hand, the philosophers
employ it to express opinion, which may be false, as opposed to knowledge, which
must be of the truth. If a philosopher, engaged in politics, does not confine his atten-
tion strictly to definite objects and acts, but lets himself be affected by the results, by
people's good or bad opinion about them, his real convictions and knowledge will soon
be overpowered.

246 plutarch's lives

should be ratified or passed by them till Cicero was recalled. But
when Lentulus was consul, the commotions grew so high upon this
matter, that the tribunes were wounded in the Forum, and Quintus,
Cicero's brother, was left as dead, lying unobserved amongst the
slain. The people began to change in their feelings; and Annius
Milo, one of their tribunes, was the first who took confidence to
summon Clodius to trial for acts of violence. Many of the common
people and out of the neighboring cities formed a party with Pom-
pey, and he went with them, and drove Clodius out of the Forum,
and summoned the people to pass their vote. And, it is said, the
people never passed any suffrage more unanimously than this. The
senate, also, striving to outdo the people, sent letters of thanks to
those cities which had received Cicero with respect in his exile, and
decreed that his house and his country-places, which Clodius had
destroyed, should be rebuilt at the public charge.

Thus Cicero returned sixteen months after his exile, and the
cities were so glad, and people so zealous to meet him, that what he
boasted of afterwards, that Italy had brought him on her shoulders
home to Rome, was rather less than the truth. And Crassus himself,
who had been his enemy before his exile, went then voluntarily to
meet him, and was reconciled, to please his son Publius, as he said,
who was Cicero's affectionate admirer.

Cicero had not been long at Rome, when, taking the opportunity
of Clodius's absence, he went, with a great company, to the capitol,
and there tore and defaced the tribunician tables, in which were
recorded the acts done in the time of Clodius. And on Clodius
calling him in question for this, he answered, that he, being of the
patrician order, had obtained the office of tribune against law, and,
therefore, nothing done by him was valid. Cato was displeased at
this, and opposed Cicero, not that he commended Clodius, but rather
disapproved of his whole administration; yet, he contended, it was
an irregular and violent course for the senate to vote the illegality
of so many decrees and acts, including those of Cato's own govern-
ment in Cyprus and at Byzantium. This occasioned a breach be-
tween Cato and Cicero, which though it came not to open enmity,
yet made a more reserved friendship between them.

After this, Milo killed Clodius, and, being arraigned for the mur-

CICERO 247

der, he procured Cicero as his advocate. The senate, fearing lest the
questioning of so eminent and high-spirited a citizen as Milo might
disturb the peace of the city, committed the superintendence of this
and of the other trials to Pompey, who should undertake to main-
tain the security alike of the city and of the courts of justice. Pom-
pey, therefore, went in the night, and occupying the high grounds
about it, surrounded the Forum with soldiers. Milo, fearing lest
Cicero, being disturbed by such an unusual sight, should conduct his
cause the less successfully, persuaded him to come in a litter into the
Forum, and there repose himself till the judges were set, and the
court filled. For Cicero, it seems, not only wanted courage in arms,
but, in his speaking also, began with timidity, and in many cases
scarcely left off trembling and shaking when he had got thoroughly
into the current and substance of his speech. Being to defend
Licinius Murena against the prosecution of Cato, and being eager to
outdo Hortensius, who had made his plea with great applause,
he took so little rest that night, and was so disordered with thought
and over-watching, that he spoke much worse than usual. And so
now, on quitting his litter to commence the cause of Milo, at the
sight of Pompey, posted, as it were, and encamped with his troops
above, and seeing arms shining round about the Forum, he was so
confounded, that he could hardly begin his speech, for the trembling
of his body, and hesitance of his tongue; whereas Milo, meantime,
was bold and intrepid in his demeanor, disdaining either to let his
hair grow, or to put on the mourning habit. And this, indeed, seems
to have been one principal cause of his condemnation. Cicero, how-
ever, was thought not so much to have shown timidity for himself,
as anxiety about his friend.

He was made one of the priests, whom the Romans call Augurs,
in the room of Crassus the younger, dead in Parthia. Then he was
appointed by lot, to the province of Cilicia, and set sail thither with
twelve thousand foot and two thousand six hundred horse. He had
orders to bring back Cappadocia to its allegiance to Ariobarzanes, its
king; which settlement he effected very completely without recourse
to arms. And perceiving the Cilicians, by the great loss the Romans
had suffered in Parthia, and the commotions in Syria, to have be-
come disposed to attempt a revolt, by a gentle course of government

248 plutarch's lives

he soothed them back into fidelity. He would accept none of the
presents that were offered him by the kings; he remitted the charge
of public entertainments, but daily, at his own house, received the
ingenious and accomplished persons of the province, not sumptu-
ously, but liberally. His house had no porter, nor was he ever found
in bed by any man, but early in the morning, standing or walking
before his door, he received those who came to offer their salutations.
He is said never once to have ordered any of those under his com-
mand to be beaten with rods, or to have their garments rent. He
never gave contumelious language in his anger, nor inflicted punish-
ment with reproach. He detected an embezzlement, to a large
amount, in the public money, and thus relieved the cities from their
burdens, and at the same time that he allowed those who made resti-
tution, to retain without further punishment their rights as citizens.
He engaged too, in war, so far as to give a defeat to the banditti who
infested Mount Amanus, for which he was saluted by his army
Imperator. To Caecilius 12 the orator, who asked him to send him
some panthers from Cilicia, to be exhibited on the theatre at Rome,
he wrote, in commendation of his own actions, that there were no
panthers in Cilicia, for they were all fled to Caria, in anger that
in so general a peace they had become the sole objects of attack.
On leaving his province, he touched at Rhodes, and tarried for
some length at Athens, longing much to renew his old studies. He
visited the eminent men of learning, and saw his former friends and
companions; and after receiving in Greece the honors that were
due to him, returned to the city, where every thing was now just
as it were in a flame, breaking out into a civil war.

When the senate would have decreed him a triumph, he told
them he had rather, so differences were accommodated, follow the
triumphal chariot of Caesar. In private, he gave advice to both,
writing many letters to Carsar, and personally entreating Pompey;
doing his best to soothe and bring to reason both the one and the
other. But when matters became incurable, and Caesar was ap-
proaching Rome, and Pompey durst not abide it, but, with many
honest citizens, left the city, Cicero, as yet, did not join in the flight,
and was reputed to adhere to Caesar. And it is very evident he was

12 Probably Cxlius.

CICERO 249

in his thoughts much divided, and wavered painfully between both,
for he writes in his epistles, "To which side should I turn? Pom-
pey has the fair and honorable plea for war; and Caesar, on the other
hand, has managed his affairs better, and is more able to secure
himself and his friends. So that I know whom I should fly, not
whom I should fly to." But when Trebatius, one of Caesar's friends,
by letter signified to him that Carsar thought it was his most desirable
course to join his party, and partake his hopes, but if he considered
himself too old a man for this, then he should retire into Greece,
and stay quietly there, out of the way of either party, Cicero, won-
dering that Caesar had not written himself, gave an angry reply
that he should not do any thing unbecoming his past life. Such is
the account to be collected from his letters.

But as soon as Caesar was marched into Spain, he immediately
sailed away to join Pompey. And he was welcomed by all but Cato;
who, taking him privately, chid him for coming to Pompey. As for
himself, he said, it had been indecent to forsake that part in the
commonwealth which he had chosen from the beginning; but
Cicero might have been more useful to his country and friends, if,
remaining neuter, he had attended and used his influence to moder-
ate the result, instead of coming hither to make himself, without
reason or necessity, an enemy to Caesar, and a partner in such great
dangers. By this language, partly, Cicero's feelings were altered, and
partly, also, because Pompey made no great use of him. Although,
indeed, he was himself the cause of it by his not denying that he was
sorry he had come, by his depreciating Pompey's resources, finding
fault underhand with his counsels, and continually indulging in
jests and sarcastic remarks on his fellow-soldiers. Though he went
about in the camp with a gloomy and melancholy face himself, he
was always trying to raise a laugh in others, whether they wished
it or not. It may not be amiss to mention a few instances. To
Domitius, on his preferring to a command one who was no soldier,
and saying, in his defence, that he was a modest and prudent person,
he replied, "Why did not you keep him for a tutor for your chil-
dren?" On hearing Theophanes, the Lesbian, who was master of
the engineers in the army, praised for the admirable way in which
he had consoled the Rhodians for the loss of their fleet, "What a

250 plutarch's lives

thing it is," he said, "to have a Greek in command!" When Caesar
had been acting successfully, and in a manner blockading Pompey,
Lentulus was saying it was reported that Caesar's friends were out of
heart; "Because," said Cicero, "they do not wish Caesar well." To one
Marcius, who had just come from Italy, and told them that there was
a strong report at Rome that Pompey was blocked up, he said, "And
you sailed hither to see it with your own eyes." To Nonius, encour-
aging them after a defeat to be of good hope, because there were
seven eagles still left in Pompey's camp, "Good reason for encour-
agement," said Cicero, "if we were going to fight with jack-daws."
Labienus insisted on some prophecies to the effect that Pompey
would gain the victory; "Yes," said Cicero, "and the first step in
the campaign has been losing our camp."

After the battle of Pharsalia was over, at which he was not pres-
ent for want of health, and Pompey was fled, Cato, having con-
siderable forces and a great fleet at Dyrrachium, would have had
Cicero commander-in-chief, according to law, and the precedence
of his consular dignity. And on his refusing the command, and
wholly declining to take part in their plans for continuing the war,
he was in the greatest danger of being killed, young Pompey and
his friends calling him traitor, and drawing their swords upon him;
only that Cato interposed, and hardly rescued and brought him out
of the camp.

Afterwards, arriving at Brundusium, he tarried there sometime
in expectation of Caesar, who was delayed by his affairs in Asia and
Egypt. And when it was told him that he was arrived at Tarentum,
and was coming thence by land to Brundusium, he hastened towards
him, not altogether without hope, and yet in some fear of making
experiment of the temper of an enemy and conqueror in the pres-
ence of many witnesses. But there was no necessity for him either
to speak or do anything unworthy of himself; for Caesar, as soon
as he saw him coming a good way before the rest of the company,
came down to meet him, saluted him, and, leading the way, con-
versed with him alone for some furlongs. And from that time
forward he continued to treat him with honor and respect; so that,
when Cicero wrote an oration in praise of Cato, Caesar, in writing

CICERO 251

an answer to it, took occasion to commend Cicero's own life and elo-
quence, comparing him to Pericles and Theramenes. Cicero's oration
was called Cato; Carsar's, anti-Cato.

So also, it is related that when Quintus Ligarius was prosecuted
for having been in arms against Caesar, and Cicero had undertaken
his defence, Caesar said to his friends, "Why might we not as well
once more hear a speech from Cicero? Ligarius, there is no question,
is a wicked man and an enemy." But when Cicero began to speak,
he wonderfully moved him, and proceeded in his speech with such
varied pathos, and such a charm of language, that the color of
Caesar's countenance often changed, and it was evident that all the
passions of his soul were in commotion. At length, the orator touch-
ing upon the Pharsalian battle, he was so affected that his body
trembled, and some of the papers he held dropped out of his hands.
And thus he was overpowered, and acquitted Ligarius.

Henceforth, the commonwealth being changed into a monarchy,
Cicero withdrew himself from public affairs, and employed his
leisure in instructing those young men that would, in philosophy;
and by the near intercourse he thus had with some of the noblest
and highest in rank, he again began to possess great influence in the
city. The work and object which he set himself was to compose
and translate philosophical dialogues and to render logical and
physical terms into the Roman idiom. For he it was, as it is said,
who first or principally gave Latin names to phantasia, syncatathesis,
epoh\he, catalepsis" atomon, ameres, f^enon, and other such technical
terms, which, either by metaphors or other means of accommoda-
tion, he succeeded in making intelligible and expressible to the

13 Phantasia, sensation excited by some external object, "impulsione oblata extrinse-
cus," Cicero renders by visum; syncatathesis, the act of acceptance on our part, he calls
assensio or assenstis; epol^he is the suspension of assent, "suspensio assensionis";
catalepsis, or comprehensio, is the next step in perception after assensio; atomon has
been turned, but not by Cicero, into insecabile; he calls atoms ind'widua corpora, or
individua, using the same word also for ameres; /(enon is inane or vacuum. Most of
these terms are introduced in the Academics, see I. 11, II. 6 and 18, and the curious
illustration from Zeno in 47. Pointing with his left hand to his right, as it lay open
and outspread. Here, said he, is sensation, visum, phantasia; letting the fingers begin
to close, this, he proceeded, is assent, syncatathesis; by closing his hand he exemplified
comprehension or catalepsis; and, at last, seizing it with his left, such, he said, is
knowledge. Phantasia, of course, is etymologically our fancy, and epok.he, in the sense
of a point in time to pause at, our epoch.

252 PLUTARCH S LIVES

Romans. For his recreation, he exercised his dexterity in poetry, and
when he was set to it, would make five hundred verses in a night.
He spent the greatest part of his time at his country house near
Tusculum. He wrote to his friends that he led the life of Laertes, 14
either jestingly, as his custom was, or rather from a feeling of ambi-
tion for public employment, which made him impatient under the
present state of affairs. He rarely went to the city, unless to pay his
court to Caesar. He was commonly the first amongst those who
voted him honors, and sought out new terms of praise for himself and
for his actions. As, for example, what he said of the statues of Pom-
pey, which had been thrown down, and were afterwards by Caesar's
orders set up again: that Caesar, by this act of humanity, had indeed
set up Pompey's statues, but he had fixed and established his own.
He had a design, it is said, of writing the history of his country,
combining with it much of that of Greece, and incorporating in it
all the stories and legends of the past that he had collected. But his
purposes were interfered with by various public and various private
unhappy occurrences and misfortunes; for most of which he was
himself in fault. For first of all, he put away his wife Terentia, by
whom he had been neglected in the time of the war, and sent away
destitute of necessaries for his journey; neither did he find her kind
when he returned from Italy, for she did not join him at Brun-
dusium, where he staid a long time, nor would allow her young
daughter, who undertook so long a journey, decent attendance, or
the requisite expenses; besides, she left him a naked and empty
house, and yet had involved him in many and great debts. These
were alleged as the fairest reasons for the divorce. But Terentia, who
denied them all, had the most unmistakable defence furnished her
by her husband himself, who not long after married a young maiden
for the love of her beauty, as Terentia upbraided him; or as Tiro,
his emancipated slave, has written, for her riches to discharge his
debts. For the young woman was very rich, and Cicero had the
custody of her estate, being left guardian in trust; and being in-
debted many myriads of money, he was persuaded by his friends

14 "Who," says the description in the first book of the Odyssey, "comes no more to
the city, but lives away in pain and grief on his land, with one old woman to feed
him, when he tires himself with tottering about his vineyard." So, also, when Ulysses
goes to see him, in the last book.

CICERO 253

and relations to marry her, notwithstanding his disparity of age,
and to use her money to satisfy his creditors. Antony, who mentions
this marriage in his answer to the Philippics, reproaches him for
putting away a wife with whom he had lived to old age; adding
some happy strokes of sarcasm on Cicero's domestic, inactive, un-
soldier-like habits. Not long after this marriage, his daughter died
in child-bed at Lentulus's house, to whom she had been married
after the death of Piso, her former husband. The philosophers from
all parts came to comfort Cicero; for his grief was so excessive,
that he put away his new-married wife, because she seemed to be
pleased at the death of Tullia. And thus stood Cicero's domestic
affairs at this time.

He had no concern in the design that was now forming against
Caesar, although, in general, he was Brutus's most principal confi-
dant, and one who was as aggrieved at the present, and as desirous
of the former state of public affairs, as any other whatsoever. But
they feared his temper, as wanting courage, and his old age, in which
the most daring dispositions are apt to be timorous.

As soon, therefore, as the act was committed by Brutus and Cas-
sius, and the friends of Caesar were got together, so that there was
fear the city would again be involved in a civil war, Antony, being
consul, convened the senate, and made a short address recommend-
ing concord. And Cicero, following with various remarks such as
the occasion called for, persuaded the senate to imitate the Atheni-
ans, and decree an amnesty for what had been done in Caesar's case,
and to bestow provinces on Brutus and Cassius. But neither of these
things took effect. For as soon as the common people, of themselves
inclined to pity, saw the dead body of Carsar borne through the
market-place, and Antony showing his clothes filled with blood, and
pierced through in every part with swords, enraged to a degree of
frenzy, they made a search for the murderers, and with firebrands
in their hands ran to their houses to burn them. They, however,
being forewarned, avoided this danger; and expecting many more
and greater to come, they left the city.

Antony on this was at once in exultation, and every one was in
alarm with the prospect that he would make himself sole ruler,
and Cicero in more alarm than any one. For Antony, seeing his

254 PLUTARCH'S LIVES

influence reviving in the commonwealth, and knowing how closely
he was connected with Brutus, was ill-pleased to have him in the
city. Besides, there had been some former jealousy between them,
occasioned by the difference of their manners. Cicero, fearing the
event, was inclined to go as lieutenant with Dolabella into Syria.
But Hirtius and Pansa, consuls elect as successors of Antony, good
men and lovers of Cicero, entreated him not to leave them, under-
taking to put down Antony if he would stay in Rome. And he,
neither distrusting wholly, nor trusting them, let Dolabella go
without him, promising Hirtius that he would go and spend his
summer at Athens, and return again when he entered upon his
office. So he set out on his journey; but some delay occurring in his
passage, new intelligence, as often happens, came suddenly from
Rome, that Antony had made an astonishing change, and was doing
all things and managing all public affairs at the will of the senate,
and that there wanted nothing but his presence to bring things to a
happy settlement. And therefore, blaming himself for his cowardice,
he returned again to Rome, and was not deceived in his hopes at
the beginning. For such multitudes flocked out to meet him, that
the compliments and civilities which were paid him at the gates,
and at his entrance into the city, took up almost one whole day's
time.

On the morrow, Antony convened the senate, and summoned
Cicero thither. He came not, but kept his bed, pretending to be ill
with his journey; but the true reason seemed the fear of some design
against him, upon a suspicion and intimation given him on his way
to Rome. Antony, however, showed great offence at the affront,
and sent soldiers, commanding them to bring him or burn his house;
but many interceding and supplicating for him, he was contented
to accept sureties. Ever after, when they met, they passed one an-
other with silence, and continued on their guard, till Cxsar, the
younger, 15 coming from Apollonia, entered on the first Cxsar's inher-
itance, and was engaged in a dispute with Antony about two thou-
sand five hundred myriads of money, which Antony detained from
the estate.

Upon this, Philippus, who married the mother, and Marcellus,

15 Augustus.

CICERO 255

who married the sister of young Caesar, came with the young man
to Cicero, and agreed with him that Cicero should give them the
aid of his eloquence and political influence with the senate and
people, and Caesar give Cicero the defence of his riches and arms.
For the young man had already a great party of the soldiers of
Caesar about him. And Cicero's readiness to join him was founded,
it is said, on some yet stronger motives; for it seems, while Pompey
and Caesar were yet alive, Cicero, in his sleep, had fancied him-
self engaged in calling some of the sons of the senators into the
capitol, Jupiter being about, according to the dream, to declare one
of them the chief ruler of Rome. The citizens, running up with
curiosity, stood about the temple, and the youths, sitting in their
purple-bordered robes, kept silence. On a sudden the doors opened,
and the youths, arising one by one in order, passed round the god,
who reviewed them all, and, to their sorrow, dismissed them; but
when this one was passing by, the god stretched forth his right
hand and said, "O ye Romans, this young man, when he shall be
lord of Rome, shall put an end to all your civil wars." It is said that
Cicero formed from his dream a distinct image of the youth, and
retained it afterwards perfectly, but did not know who it was. The
next day, going down into the Campus Martius, he met the boys
returning from their gymnastic exercises, and the first was he, just
as he had appeared to him in his dream. Being astonished at it, he
asked him who were his parents. And it proved to be this young
Caesar, whose father was a man of no great eminence, Octavius,
and his mother, Attia, Caesar's sister's daughter; for which reason,
Caesar, who had no children, made him by will the heir of his house
and property. From that time, it is said that Cicero studiously
noticed the youth whenever he met him, and he as kindly received
the civility; and by fortune he happened to be born when Cicero
was consul.

These were the reasons spoken of; but it was principally Cicero's
hatred of Antony, and a temper unable to resist honor, which
fastened him to Caesar, with the purpose of getting the support of
Caesar's power for his own public designs. For the young man went
so far in his court to him, that he called him Father; at which
Brutus was so highly displeased that, in his epistles to Atticus he

256 plutarch's lives

reflected on Cicero, saying, it was manifest, by his courting Caesar
for fear of Antony, he did not intend liberty to his country, but an
indulgent master to himself. Notwithstanding, Brutus took Cicero's
son, then studying philosophy at Athens, gave him a command, and
employed him in various ways, with a good result. Cicero's own
power at this time was at the greatest height in the city, and he
did whatsoever he pleased; he completely overpowered and drove
out Antony, and sent the two consuls, Hirtius and Pansa, with an
army, to reduce him; and, on the other hand, persuaded the senate
to allow Caesar the lictors and ensigns of a praetor, as though he were
his country's defender. But after Antony was defeated in battle,
and the two consuls slain, the armies united, and ranged them-
selves with Caesar. And the senate, fearing the young man, and his
extraordinary fortune, endeavored, by honors and gifts, to call off
the soldiers from him, and to lessen his power; professing there was
no further need of arms, now Antony was put to flight.

This giving Caesar an affright, he privately sends some friends to
entreat and persuade Cicero to procure the consular dignity for
them both together; saying he should manage the affairs as he
pleased, should have the supreme power, and govern the young man
who was only desirous of name and glory. And Caesar himself con-
fessed, that in fear of ruin, and in danger of being deserted, he had
seasonably made use of Cicero's ambition, persuading him to stand
with him, and to accept the offer of his aid and interest for the
consulship.

And now, more than at any other time, Cicero let himself be
carried away and deceived, though an old man, by the persuasions
of a boy. He joined him in soliciting votes, and procured the good-
will of the senate, not without blame at the time on the part of
his friends; and he, too, soon enough after, saw that he had ruined
himself, and betrayed the liberty of his country. For the young
man, once established, and possessed of the office of consul, bade
Cicero farewell; and, reconciling himself to Antony and Lepidus,
joined his power with theirs, and divided the government, like a
piece of property, with them. Thus united, they made a schedule of
above two hundred persons who were to be put to death. But the
greatest contention in all their debates was on the question of

CICERO 257

Cicero's case. Antony would come to no conditions, unless he should
be the first man to be killed. Lepidus held with Antony, and Csesar
opposed them both. They met secretly and by themselves, for three
days together, near the town of Bononia. The spot was not far from
the camp, with a river surrounding it. Caesar, it is said, contended
earnestly for Cicero the first two days; but on the third day he
yielded, and gave him up. The terms of their mutual concessions
were these: that Caesar should desert Cicero, Lepidus his brother
Paulus, and Antony, Lucius Carsar, his uncle by his mother's side.
Thus they let their anger and fury take from them the sense of
humanity, and demonstrated that no beast is more savage than man,
when possessed with power answerable to his rage.

Whilst these things were contriving, Cicero was with his brother
at his country-house near Tusculum; whence, hearing of the pro-
scriptions, they determined to pass to Astura, a villa of Cicero's
near the sea, and to take shipping from thence for Macedonia to
Brutus, of whose strength in that province news had already been
heard. They travelled together in their separate litters, overwhelmed
with sorrow; and often stopping on the way till their litters came
together, condoled with one another. But Quintus was the more dis-
heartened, when he reflected on his want of means for his journey;
for, as he said, he had brought nothing with him from home. And
even Cicero himself had but a slender provision. It was judged,
therefore, most expedient that Cicero should make what haste he
could to fly, and Quintus return home to provide necessaries, and
thus resolved, they mutually embraced, and parted with many tears.

Quintus, within a few days after, betrayed by his servants to those
who came to search for him, was slain, together with his young son.
But Cicero was carried to Astura, where, finding a vessel, he imme-
diately went on board her, and sailed as far as Circaeum with a pros-
perous gale; but when the pilots resolved immediately to set sail
from thence, whether fearing the sea, or not wholly distrusting the
faith of Caesar, he went on shore, and passed by land a hundred
furlongs, as if he was going for Rome. But losing resolution and
changing his mind, he again returned to the sea, and there spent
the night in fearful and perplexed thoughts. Sometimes he resolved
to go into Caesar's house privately, and there kill himself upon the

258 plutarch's lives

altar of his household gods, to bring divine vengeance upon him;
but the fear of torture put him off this course. And after passing
through a variety of confused and uncertain counsels, at last he let
his servants carry him by sea to Capita?, 16 where he had a house, an
agreeable place to retire to in the heat of summer, when the Etesian
winds are so pleasant.

There was at that place a chapel of Apollo, not far from the
sea-side, from which a flight of crows rose with a great noise, and
made toward Cicero's vessel as it rowed to land, and lighting on
both sides of the yard, some croaked, others pecked the ends of the
ropes. This was looked upon by all as an ill omen; and, therefore,
Cicero went again ashore, and entering his house, lay down upon
his bed to compose himself to rest. Many of the crows settled about
the window, making a dismal cawing; but one of them alighted
upon the bed where Cicero lay covered up, and with its bill by little
and little pecked off the clothes from his face. His servants, seeing
this, blamed themselves that they should stay to be spectators of
their master's murder, and do nothing in his defence, whilst the
brute creatures came to assist and take care of him in his undeserved
affliction; and, therefore, partly by entreaty, partly by force, they
took him up, and carried him in his litter towards the sea-side.

But in the mean time the assassins were come with a band of
soldiers, Herennius, a centurion, and Popillius, a tribune, whom
Cicero had formerly defended when prosecuted for the murder of
his father. Finding the doors shut, they broke them open, and
Cicero not appearing, and those within saying they knew not where
he was, it is stated that a youth, who had been educated by Cicero
in the liberal arts and sciences, an emancipated slave of his brother
Quintus, Philologus by name, informed the tribune that the litter
was on its way to the sea through the close and shady walks. The
tribune, taking a few with him, ran to the place where he was to
come out. And Cicero, perceiving Herennius running in the walks,
commanded his servants to set down the litter; and stroking his
chin, as he used to do, with his left hand, he looked steadfastly upon
his murderers, his person covered with dust, his beard and hair

'• This, as we find from other authority, means Caieta, the present Gaeta. Nothing
is known of any such place as Capitz. Formiz, the present Mola di Gaeta, is close
by; and here Cicero is known to have had a villa, the Formianum.

CICERO 259

untrimmed, and his face worn with his troubles. So that the greatest
part of those that stood by covered their faces whilst Herennius
slew him. And thus was he murdered, stretching forth his neck
out of the litter, being now in his sixty-fourth year. Herennius
cut off his head, and, by Antony's command, his hands also, by
which his Philippics were written; for so Cicero styled those orations
he wrote against Antony, and so they are called to this day.

When these members of Cicero were brought to Rome, Antony
was holding an assembly for the choice of public officers; and when
he heard it, and saw them, he cried out, "Now let there be an end
of our proscriptions." He commanded his head and hands to be
fastened up over the Rostra, where the orators spoke; a sight which
the Roman people shuddered to behold, and they believed they saw
there not the face of Cicero, but the image of Antony's own soul.
And yet amidst these actions he did justice in one thing, by deliver-
ing up Philologus to Pomponia, the wife of Quintus, who, having
got his body into her power, besides other grievous punishments,
made him cut off his own flesh by pieces, and roast and eat it; for
so some writers have related. But Tiro, Cicero's emancipated slave,
has not so much as mentioned the treachery of Philologus.

Some long time after, Carsar, I have been told, visiting one of his
daughter's sons, found him with a book of Cicero's in his hand.
The boy for fear endeavored to hide it under his gown; which
Caesar perceiving, took it from him, and turning over a great part
of the book standing, gave it him again, and said, "My child, this
was a learned man, and a lover of his country." " And immediately
after he had vanquished Antony, being then consul, he made Cice-
ro's son his colleague in the office; and under that consulship, the
senate took down all the statues of Antony, and abolished all the
other honors that had been given him, and decreed that none of
that family should thereafter bear the name of Marcus; and thus the
final acts of the punishment of Antony were, by the divine powers,
devolved upon the family of Cicero.

"It is not easy to find any projwr equivalent for the word here translated by
"learned." Logios, derived from logos, which is indifferently speech and reason
(thinking and speaking being both powers of articulating), may be one who tut
thought much and well, one who has much to say, and one who can say it well.

COMPARISON OF
DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO

THESE are the most memorable circumstances recorded in
history of Demosthenes and Cicero which have come to
our knowledge. But omitting an exact comparison of their
respective faculties in speaking, yet thus much seems fit to be said;
that Demosthenes, to make himself a master in rhetoric, applied all
the faculties he had, natural or acquired, wholly that way; that he
far surpassed in force and strength of eloquence all his contempo-
raries in political and judicial speaking, in grandeur and majesty
all the panegyrical orators, and in accuracy and science all the logi-
cians and rhetoricians of his day; 1 that Cicero was highly educated,
and by his diligent study became a most accomplished general
scholar in all these branches, having left behind him numerous
philosophical treatises of his own on Academic principles; as, indeed,
even in his written speeches, both political and judicial, we see
him continually trying to show his learning by the way. And one
may discover the different temper of each of them in their speeches.
For Demosthenes's oratory was without all embellishment and jest-
ing, wholly composed for real effect and seriousness; not smelling of
the lamp, as Pytheas scoffingly said, but of the temperance, thought-
fulness, austerity, and grave earnestness of his temper. Whereas
Cicero's love of mockery often ran him into scurrility; and in his
love of laughing away serious arguments in judicial cases by jests
and facetious remarks, with a view to the advantage of his clients,
he paid too little regard to what was decent; saying, for example, in
his defence of Cxlius, that he had done no absurd thing in such
plenty and affluence to indulge himself in pleasures, it being a kind
of madness not to enjoy the things we possess, especially since
the most eminent philosophers have asserted pleasure to be the

1 The political, the judicial, and the panegyrical departments were the three varieties
of oratory. To the practitioners in these are added the sophistic, the logic and rhetoric
masters.

260

DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO 26 1

chiefest good. So also we are told, that when Cicero, being consul,
undertook the defence of Murena against Cato's prosecution, by
way of bantering Cato, he made a long series of jokes upon the
absurd paradoxes, as they are called, of the Stoic sect; so that a loud
laughter passing from the crowd to the judges, Cato, with a quiet
smile, said to those that sat next to him, "My friends, what an amus-
ing consul we have."

And, indeed, Cicero was by natural temper very much disposed
to mirth and pleasantry, and always appeared with a smiling and
serene countenance. But Demosthenes had constant care and
thoughtfulness in his look, and a serious anxiety, which he seldom,
if ever, laid aside; and, therefore, was accounted by his enemies, as
he himself confessed, morose and ill-mannered.

Also, it is very evident, out of their several writings, that Demos-
thenes never touched upon his own praises but decently and with-
out offence when there was need of it, and for some weightier end;
but, upon other occasions modestly and sparingly. But Cicero's im-
measurable boasting of himself in his orations argues him guilty of
an uncontrollable appetite for distinction, his cry being evermore
that arms should give place to the gown, and the soldier's laurel
to the tongue. 2 And at last we find him extolling not only his deeds
and actions, but his orations also, as well those that were only
spoken, as those that were published; as if he were engaged in a
boyish trial of skill, who should speak best, with the rhetoricians,
Isocrates and Anaximenes, not as one who could claim the task to
guide and instruct the Roman nation, the

"Soldier full-armed, terrific to the foe."

It is necessary, indeed, for a political leader to be an able speaker;
but it is an ignoble thing for any man to admire and relish the
glory of his own eloquence. And, in this matter, Demosthenes had
a more than ordinary gravity and magnificence of mind, account-
ing his talent in speaking nothing more than a mere accomplish-
ment and matter of practice, the success of which must depend
gready on the good-will and candor of his hearers, and regarding

* Translating Cicero's famous verse upon himself —

Cedanc arma togz, concedat laurea linguae

262 plutarch's lives

those who pride themselves on such accounts to be men of a low
and petty disposition.

The power of persuading and governing the people did, indeed,
equally belong to both, so that those who had armies and camps at
command stood in need of their assistance; as Chares, Diopithes,
and Leosthenes of Demosthenes's, Pompey and young Cxsar of
Cicero's, as the latter himself admits in his Memoirs addressed to
Agrippa and Maecenas. But what are thought and commonly said
most to demonstrate and try the tempers of men, namely, author-
ity, and place, by moving every passion, and discovering every
frailty, these are things which Demosthenes never received; nor
was he ever in a position to give such proof of himself, having never
obtained any eminent office, nor led any of those armies into the
field against Philip which he raised by his eloquence. Cicero, on
the other hand, was sent quaestor into Sicily, and proconsul into
Cilicia and Cappadocia, at a time when avarice was at the height,
and the commanders and governors who were employed abroad,
as though they thought it a mean thing to steal, set themselves to
seize by open force; so that it seemed no heinous matter to take
bribes, but he that did it most moderately was in good esteem. And
yet he, at this time, gave the most abundant proofs alike of his
contempt of riches and of his humanity and good-nature. And at
Rome, when he was created consul in name, but indeed received
sovereign and dictatorial authority against Catiline and his con-
spirators, he attested the truth of Plato's prediction, that then the
miseries of states would be at an end, when by a happy fortune
supreme power, wisdom, and justice should be united in one. 5

It is said, to the reproach of Demosthenes, that his eloquence was
mercenary; that he privately made orations for Phormion and
Apollodorus, though adversaries in the same cause; that he was
charged with moneys received from the king of Persia, and con-
demned for bribes from Harpalus. And should we grant that all
those (and they are not few) who have made these statements
against him have spoken what is untrue, yet that Demosthenes was
not the character to look without desire on the presents offered him
out of respect and gratitude by royal persons, and that one who lent

* Or, as the dictum is in his Republic, "When the philosopher should be king."

DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO 263

money on maritime usury was likely to be thus indifferent, is what
we cannot assert. But that Cicero refused, from the Sicilians when
he was quxstor, from the king of Cappadocia when he was pro-
consul, and from his friends at Rome when he was in exile, many
presents, though urged to receive them, has been said already.

Moreover, Demosthenes's banishment was infamous, upon con-
viction for bribery; Cicero's very honorable, for ridding his coun-
try of a set of villains. Therefore, when Demosthenes fled his coun-
try, no man regarded it; for Cicero's sake the senate changed their
habit, and put on mourning, and would not be persuaded to make
any act before Cicero's return was decreed. Cicero, however, passed
his exile idly in Macedonia. But the very exile of Demosthenes
made up a great part of the services he did for his country; for he
went through the cities of Greece, and everywhere, as we have said,
joined in the conflict on behalf of the Grecians, driving out the
Macedonian ambassadors, and approving himself a much better
citizen than Themistocles and Alcibiades did in the like fortune.
And, after his return, he again devoted himself to the same pub-
lic service, and continued firm to his opposition to Antipater and
the Macedonians. Whereas Lxlius reproached Cicero in the senate
for sitting silent when Caesar, a beardless youth, asked leave to come
forward, contrary to the law, as a candidate for the consulship; and
Brutus, in his epistles, charges him with nursing and rearing a
greater and more heavy tyranny than that they had removed.

Finally, Cicero's death excites our pity; for an old man to be
miserably carried up and down by his servants, flying and hiding
himself from that death which was, in the course of nature, so near
at hand; and yet at last to be murdered. Demosthenes, though he
seemed at first a little to supplicate, yet, by his preparing and keep-
ing the poison by him, demands our admiration; and still more
admirable was his using it. When the temple of the god no longer
afforded him a sanctuary, he took refuge, as it were, at a mightier
altar, freeing himself from arms and soldiers, and laughing to scorn
the cruelty of Antipater.

CESAR

A FTER Sylla became master of Rome, he wished to make
L.\ Caesar put away his wife Cornelia, daughter of Cinna, the
■L. .m. late sole ruler of the commonwealth, but was unable to
effect it either by promises or intimidation, and so contented him-
self with confiscating her dowry. The ground of Sylla's hostility
to Caesar, was the relationship between him and Marius; for Marius,
the elder, married Julia, the sister of Caesar's father, and had by her
the younger Marius, who consequently was Caesar's first cousin.
And though at the beginning, while so many were to be put to
death and there was so much to do, Caesar was overlooked by
Sylla, yet he would not keep quiet, but presented himself to the
people as a candidate for the priesthood, though he was yet a mere
boy. Sylla, without any open opposition, took measures to have him
rejected, and in consultation whether he should be put to death,
when it was urged by some that it was not worth his while to con-
trive the death of a boy, he answered, that they knew little who
did not see more than one Marius in that boy. Caesar, on being in-
formed of this saying, concealed himself, and for a considerable
time kept out of the way in the country of the Sabines, often chang-
ing his quarters, till one night, as he was removing from one
house to another on account of his health, he fell into the hands of
Sylla's soldiers, who were searching those parts in order to appre-
hend any who had absconded. Caesar, by a bribe of two talents,
prevailed with Cornelius, their captain, to let him go, and was
no sooner dismissed but he put to sea, and made for Bithynia. After
a short stay there with Nicomedes, the king, in his passage back he
was taken near the island Pharmacusa by some of the pirates, who,
at that time, with large fleets of ships and innumerable smaller
vessels infested the seas everywhere.

When these men at first demanded of him twenty talents for his
ransom, he laughed at them for not understanding the value of

264

CESAR 265

their prisoner, and voluntarily engaged to give them fifty. He
presently despatched those about him to several places to raise the
money, till at last he was left among a set of the most bloodthirsty
people in the world, the Cilicians, only with one friend and two
attendants. Yet he made so little of them, that when he had a mind
to sleep, he would send to them, and order them to make no noise.
For thirty-eight days, with all the freedom in the world, he amused
himself with joining in their exercises and games, as if they had
not been his keepers, but his guards. He wrote verses and speeches,
and made them his auditors, and those who did not admire them,
he called to their faces illiterate and barbarous, and would often,
in raillery, threaten to hang them. They were greatly taken with
this, and attributed his free talking to a kind of simplicity and
boyish playfulness. As soon as his ransom was come from Miletus,
he paid it, and was discharged, and proceeded at once to man
some ships at the port of Miletus, and went in pursuit of the pirates,
whom he surprised with their ships still stationed at the island, and
took most of them. Their money he made his prize, and the men
he secured in prison at Pergamus, and made application to Junius,
who was then governor of Asia, to whose office it belonged, as
praetor, to determine their punishment. Junius, having his eye upon
the money, for the sum was considerable, said he would think at
his leisure what to do with the prisoners, upon which Ca?sar took
his leave of him, and went off to Pergamus, where he ordered the
pirates to be brought forth and crucified; the punishment he had
often threatened them with whilst he was in their hands, and they
little dreamed he was in earnest.

In the mean time Sylla's power being now on the decline, Cjesar's
friends advised him to return to Rome, but he went to Rhodes, and
entered himself in the school of Apollonius, Molon's son, a famous
rhetorician, one who had the reputation of a worthy man, and had
Cicero for one of his scholars. Caesar is said to have been admirably
fitted by nature to make a great statesman and orator, and to have
taken such pains to improve his genius this way, that without dis-
pute he might challenge the second place. More he did not aim at,
as choosing to be first rather amongst men of arms and power, and,
therefore, never rose to that height of eloquence to which nature

266 plutarch's lives

would have carried him, his attention being diverted to those ex-
peditions and designs which at length gained him the empire. And
he himself, in his answer to Cicero's panegyric on Cato, desires his
reader not to compare the plain discourse of a soldier with the
harangues of an orator who had not only fine parts, but had em-
ployed his life in this study.

When he was returned to Rome, he accused Dolabella of mal-
administration, and many cities of Greece came in to attest it. Dola-
bella was acquitted, and Caesar, in return for the support he had
received from the Greeks, assisted them in their prosecution of
Publius Antonius for corrupt practices, before Marcus Lucullus,
praetor of Macedonia. In this cause he so far succeeded, that An-
tonius was forced to appeal to the tribunes at Rome, alleging that in
Greece he could not have fair play against Grecians. In his plead-
ings at Rome, his eloquence soon obtained him great credit and
favor, and he won no less upon the affections of the people by the
affability of his manners and address, in which he showed a tact
and consideration beyond what could have been expected at his
age; and the open house he kept, the entertainments he gave, and
the general splendor of his manner of life contributed little by
little to create and increase his political influence. His enemies
slighted the growth of it at first, presuming it would soon fail when
his money was gone; whilst in the mean time it was growing up
and flourishing among the common people. When his power at
last was established and not to be overthrown, and now openly
tended to the altering of the whole constitution, they were aware
too late, that there is no beginning so mean, which continued appli-
cation will not make considerable, and that despising a danger at
first, will make it at last irresistible. Cicero was the first who
had any suspicions of his designs upon the government, and, as
a good pilot is apprehensive of a storm when the sea is most
smiling, saw the designing temper of the man through this dis-
guise of good-humor and affability, and said, that in general, in
all he did and undertook, he detected the ambition for absolute
power, "but when I see his hair so carefully arranged, and observe
him adjusting it with one finger, I cannot imagine it should enter

CJESAR 267

into such a man's thoughts to subvert the Roman state." But of this
more hereafter.

The first proof he had of the people's good-will to him, was when
he received by their suffrages a tribuneship in the army, and came
out on the list with a higher place than Caius Popilius. A second
and clearer instance of their favor appeared upon his making a mag-
nificent oration in praise of his aunt Julia, wife to Marius, publicly
in the forum, at whose funeral he was so bold as to bring forth the
images of Marius, which nobody had dared to produce since the
government came into Sylla's hands, Marius's party having from
that time been declared enemies of the State. When some who were
present had begun to raise a cry against Caesar, the people an-
swered with loud shouts and clapping in his favor, expressing their
joyful surprise and satisfaction at his having, as it were, brought
up again from the grave those honors of Marius, which for so
long a time had been lost to the city. It had always been the cus-
tom at Rome to make funeral orations in praise of elderly matrons,
but there was no precedent of any upon young women till Caesar
first made one upon the death of his own wife. This also procured
him favor, and by this show of affection he won upon the feelings
of the people, who looked upon him as a man of great tenderness
and kindness of heart. After he had buried his wife, he went as
quarstor into Spain under one of the prauors, named Vetus, whom
he honored ever after, and made his son his own quxstor, when he
himself came to be prztor. After this employment was ended, he
married Pompeia, his third wife, having then a daughter by Cor-
nelia, his first wife, whom he afterwards married to Pompey the
Great. He was so profuse in his expenses, that before he had any
public employment, he was in debt thirteen hundred talents, and
many thought that by incurring such expense to be popular, he
changed a solid good for what would prove but a short and un-
certain return; but in truth he was purchasing what was of the
greatest value at an inconsiderable rate. When he was made sur-
veyor of the Appian Way, he disbursed, besides the public money,
a great sum out of his private purse; and when he was xdile, he
provided such a number of gladiators, that he entertained the people

268 plutarch's lives

with three hundred and twenty single combats, and by his great
liberality and magnificence in theatrical shows, in processions, and
public feastings, he threw into the shade all the attempts that had
been made before him, and gained so much upon the people, that
every one was eager to find out new offices and new honors for him
in return for his munificence.

There being two factions in the city, one that of Sylla, which
was very powerful, the other that of Marius, which was then broken
and in a very low condition, he undertook to revive this and to
make it his own. And to this end, whilst he was in the height of
his repute with the people for the magnificent shows he gave as
aedile, he ordered images of Marius, and figures of Victory, with
trophies in their hands, to be carried privately in the night and
placed in the capitol. Next morning, when some saw them bright
with gold and beautifully made, with inscriptions upon them, re-
ferring to Marius's exploits over the Cimbrians, they were surprised
at the boldness of him who had set them up, nor was it difficult to
guess who it was. The fame of this soon spread and brought to-
gether a great concourse of people. Some cried out that it was an
open attempt against the established government thus to revive
those honors which had been buried by the laws and decrees of the
senate; that Caesar had done it to sound the temper of the people
whom he had prepared before, and to try whether they were tame
enough to bear his humor, and would quietly give way to his in-
novations. On the other hand, Marius's party took courage, and it
was incredible how numerous they were suddenly seen to be, and
what a multitude of them appeared and came shouting into the
capitol. Many, when they saw Marius's likeness, cried for joy, and
Caesar was highly extolled as the one man, in the place of all others,
who was a relation worthy of Marius. Upon this the senate met,
and Catulus Lutatius, one of the most eminent Romans of that
time, stood up and inveighed against Caesar, closing his speech
with the remarkable saying, that Caesar was now not working
mines, but planting batteries to overthrow the state. But when
Caesar had made an apology for himself, and satisfied the senate, his
admirers were very much animated, and advised him not to depart
from his own thoughts for any one, since with the people's good

CiESAR 269

favor he would erelong get the better of them all, and be the first
man in the commonwealth.

At this time, Metellus, the High-Priest, died, and Catulus and
Isauricus, persons of the highest reputation, and who had great in-
fluence in the senate, were competitors for the office; yet Caesar
would not give way to them, but presented himself to the people as
a candidate against them. The several parties seeming very equal,
Catulus, who, because he had the most honor to lose, was the most
apprehensive of the event, sent to Cxsar to buy him off, with offers
of a great sum of money. But his answer was, that he was ready
to borrow a larger sum than that, to carry on the contest. Upon the
day of election, as his mother conducted him out of doors with
tears, after embracing her, "My mother," he said, "to-day you will
see me either High-Priest, or an exile." When the votes were taken,
after a great struggle, he carried it, and excited among the senate
and nobility great alarm lest he might now urge on the people to
every kind of insolence. And Piso and Catulus found fault with
Cicero for having let Csesar escape, when in the conspiracy of
Catiline he had given the government such advantage against him.
For Catiline, who had designed not only to change the present
state of affairs, but to subvert the whole empire and confound all,
had himself taken to flight, while the evidence was yet incomplete
against him, before his ultimate purposes had been properly dis-
covered. But he had left Lentulus and Cethegus in the city to
supply his place in the conspiracy, and whether they received any
secret encouragement and assistance from Caesar is uncertain; all
that is certain is, that they were fully convicted in the senate, and
when Cicero, the consul, asked the several opinions of the senators,
how they would have them punished, all who spoke before Csesar
sentenced them to death; but Caesar stood up and made a set speech,
in which he told them, that he thought it without precedent and
not just to take away the lives of persons of their birth and distinc-
tion before they were fairly tried, unless there was an absolute ne-
cessity for it; but that if they were kept confined in any towns of
Italy Cicero himself should choose, till Catiline was defeated, then
the senate might in peace and at their leisure determine what was
best to be done.

27O PLUTARCH S LIVES

This sentence of his carried so much appearance of humanity,
and he gave it such advantage by the eloquence with which he
urged it, that not only those who spoke after him closed with it,
but even they who had before given a contrary opinion, now came
over to his, till it came about to Catulus's and Cato's turn to speak.
They warmly opposed it, and Cato intimated in his speech the sus-
picion of Caesar himself, and pressed the matter so strongly, that
the criminals were given up to suffer execution. As Caesar was
going out of the senate, many of the young men who at that time
acted as guards to Cicero, ran in with their naked swords to assault
him. But Curio, it is said, threw his gown over him, and conveyed
him away, and Cicero himself, when the young men looked up to see
his wishes, gave a sign not to kill him, either for fear of the people, or
because he thought the murder unjust and illegal. If this be true, I
wonder how Cicero came to omit all mention of it in his book about
his consulship. He was blamed, however, afterwards, for not having
made use of so fortunate an opportunity against Caesar, as if he
had let it escape him out of fear of the populace, who, indeed,
showed remarkable solicitude about Caesar, and some time after,
when he went into the senate to clear himself of the suspicions he
lay under, and found great clamors raised against him, upon the
senate in consequence sitting longer than ordinary, they went up
to the house in a tumult, and beset it, demanding Caesar, and re-
quiring them to dismiss him. Upon this, Cato, much fearing some
movement among the poor citizens, who were always the first to
kindle the flame among the people, and placed all their hopes
in Caesar, persuaded the senate to give them a monthly allowance of
corn, an expedient which put the commonwealth to the extraordi-
nary charge of seven million five hundred thousand drachmas in
the year, but quite succeeded in removing the great cause of terror
for the present, and very much weakened Caesar's power, who at
that time was just going to be made praetor, and consequently would
have been more formidable by his office.

But there was no disturbance during his praetorship, only what
misfortune he met with in his own domestic affairs. Publius Clo-
dius was a patrician by descent, eminent both for his riches and
eloquence, but in licentiousness of life and audacity exceeded the

CiCSAR 271

most noted profligates of the day. He was in love with Pompeia,
Caesar's wife, and she had no aversion to him. But there was strict
watch kept on her apartment, and Caesar's mother, Aurelia, who
was a discreet woman, being continually about her, made any inter-
view very dangerous and difficult. The Romans have a goddess
whom they call Bona, the same whom the Greeks call Gynaccea.
The Phrygians, who claim a peculiar title to her, say she was
mother to Midas. The Romans profess she was one of the Dryads,
and married to Faun us. The Grecians affirm that she is the mother
of Bacchus whose name is not to be uttered, and, for this reason,
the women who celebrate her festival, cover the tents with vine-
branches, and, in accordance with the fable, a consecrated serpent
is placed by the goddess. It is not lawful for a man to be by, nor
so much as in the house, whilst the rites are celebrated, but the
women by themselves perform the sacred offices, which are said to
be much the same with those used in the solemnities of Orpheus.
When the festival comes, the husband, who is either consul or
prxtor, and with him every male creature, quits the house. The
wife then taking it under her care, sets it in order, and the principal
ceremonies are performed during the night, the women playing
together amongst themselves as they keep watch, and music of
various kinds going on.

As Pompeia was at that time celebrating this feast, Clodius, who
as yet had no beard, and so thought to pass undiscovered, took upon
him the dress and ornaments of a singing woman, and so came
thither, having the air of a young girl. Finding the doors open, he
was without any stop introduced by the maid, who was in the in-
trigue. She presently ran to tell Pompeia, but as she was away a
long time, he grew uneasy waiting for her, and left his post and
traversed the house from one room to another, still taking care to
avoid the lights, till at last Aurelia's woman met him, and invited
him to play with her, as the women did among themselves. He
refused to comply, and she presently pulled him forward, and asked
him who he was, and whence he came. Clodius told her he was
waiting for Pompeia's own maid, Abra, 1 being in fact her own

1 Abra was the Greek word for the favorite waiting-maid; and was, also, this girl's
own proper name. Clodius said he was waiting for Pompeia's Abra, that being, also,
as it happened, her name.

272 PLUTARCH S LIVES

name also, and as he said so, betrayed himself by his voice. Upon
which the woman shrieking, ran into the company where there
were lights, and cried out, she had discovered a man. The women
were all in a fright. Aurelia covered up the sacred things and
stopped the proceedings, and having ordered the doors to be shut,
went about with lights to find Clodius, who was got in the maid's
room that he had come in with, and was seized there. The women
knew him, and drove him out of doors, and at once, that same
night, went home and told their husbands the story. In the morn-
ing, it was all about the town, what an impious attempt Clodius
had made, and how he ought to be punished as an offender, not
only against those whom he had affronted, but also against the
public and the gods. Upon which one of the tribunes impeached
him for profaning the holy rites, and some of the principal senators
combined together and gave evidence against him, that besides
many other horrible crimes, he had been guilty of incest with his
own sister, who was married to Lucullus. But the people set them-
selves against this combination of the nobility, and defended Clo-
dius, which was of great service to him with the judges, who took
alarm and were afraid to provoke the multitude. Caesar at once dis-
missed Pompeia, but being summoned as a witness against Clodius,
said he had nothing to charge him with. This looking like a para-
dox, the accuser asked him why he parted with his wife. Caesar re-
plied, "I wished my wife to be not so much as suspected." Some
say that Caesar spoke this as his real thought; others, that he did it
to gratify the people, who were earnest to save Clodius. Clodius, at
any rate, escaped; most of the judges giving their opinions so writ-
ten as to be illegible, that they might not be in danger from the
people by condemning him, nor in disgrace with the nobility by
acquitting him.

Caesar, in the mean time, being out of his pranorship, had got
the province of Spain, but was in great embarrassment with his
creditors, who, as he was going off, came upon him, and were very
pressing and importunate. This led him to apply himself to Cras-
sus, who was the richest man in Rome, but wanted Caesar's youth-
ful vigor and heat to sustain the opposition against Pompey. Cras-
sus took upon him to satisfy those creditors who were not uneasy

CiESAR 273

to him, and would not be put off any longer, and engaged himself
to the amount of eight hundred and thirty talents, upon which
Caesar was now at liberty to go to his province. In his journey, as
he was crossing the Alps, and passing by a small village of the
barbarians with but few inhabitants and those wretchedly poor,
his companions asked the question among themselves by way of
mockery, if there were any canvassing for offices there; any con-
tention which should be uppermost, or feuds of great men one
against another. To which Caesar made answer seriously, "For my
part, I had rather be the first man among these fellows, than the
second man in Rome." It is said that another time, when free from
business in Spain, after reading some part of the history of Alexan-
der, he sat a great while very thoughtful, and at last burst out into
tears. His friends were surprised, and asked him the reason of it.
"Do you think," said he, "I have not just cause to weep, when I
consider that Alexander at my age had conquered so many nations,
and I have all this time done nothing that is memorable?" As soon
as he came into Spain he was very active, and in a few days had
got together ten new cohorts of foot in addition to the twenty which
were there before. With these he marched against the Calaici and
Lusitani and conquered them, and advancing as far as the ocean,
subdued the tribes which never before had been subject to the Ro-
mans. Having managed his military affairs with good success, he
was equally happy in the course of his civil government. He took
pains to establish a good understanding amongst the several states,
and no less care to heal the differences between debtors and credi-
tors. He ordered that the creditor should receive two parts of the
debtor's yearly income, and that the other part should be managed
by the debtor himself, till by this method the whole debt was at last
discharged. This conduct made him leave his province with a fair
reputation; being rich himself, and having enriched his soldiers, and
having received from them the honorable name of Imperator.

There is a law among the Romans, that whoever desires the honor
of a triumph must stay without the city and expect his answer. And
another, that those who stand for the consulship shall appear per-
sonally upon the place. Caesar was come home at the very time of
choosing consuls, and being in a difficulty between these two op-

274 plutarch's lives

posite laws, sent to the senate a desire that since he was obliged to
be absent, he might sue for the consulship by his friends. Cato,
being backed by the law, at first opposed his request; afterwards
perceiving that Caesar had prevailed with a great part of the senate
to comply with it, he made it his business to gain time, and went on
wasting the whole day in speaking. Upon which Caesar thought fit
to let the triumph fall, and pursued the consulship. Entering the
town and coming forward immediately, he had recourse to a piece
of state-policy by which everybody was deceived but Cato. This
was the reconciling of Crassus and Pompey, the two men who then
were most powerful in Rome. There had been a quarrel between
them, which he now succeeded in making up, and by this means
strengthened himself by the united power of both, and so under
the cover of an action which carried all the appearance of a piece
of kindness and good-nature, caused what was in effect a revolution
in the government. For it was not the quarrel between Pompey
and Caesar, as most men imagine, which was the origin of the civil
wars, but their union, their conspiring together at first to subvert
the aristocracy, and so quarreling afterwards between themselves.
Cato, who often foretold what the consequence of this alliance
would be, had then the character of a sullen, interfering man, but
in the end the reputation of a wise but unsuccessful counsellor.

Thus Caesar being doubly supported by the interests of Crassus
and Pompey, was promoted to the consulship, and triumphantly
proclaimed with Calpurnius Bibulus. When he entered on his
office, he brought in bills which would have been preferred with
better grace by the most audacious of the tribunes than by a con-
sul, in which he proposed the plantation of colonies and division of
lands, simply to please the commonalty. The best and most honor-
able of the senators opposed it, upon which, as he had long wished
for nothing more than for such a colorable pretext, he loudly pro-
tested how much against his will it was to be driven to seek sup-
port from the people, and how the senate's insulting and harsh con-
duct left no other course possible for him, than to devote himself
henceforth to the popular cause and interest. And so he hurried
out of the senate, and presenting himself to the people, and there
placing Crassus and Pompey, one on each side of him, he asked

CESAR 275

them whether they consented to the bills he had proposed. They
owned their assent, upon which he desired them to assist him
against those who had threatened to oppose him with their swords.
They engaged they would, and Pompey added further, that he
would meet their swords with a sword and buckler too. These
words the nobles much resented, as neither suitable to his own dig-
nity, nor becoming the reverence due to the senate, but resembling
rather the vehemence of a boy, or the fury of a madman. But the
people were pleased with it. In order to get a yet firmer hold upon
Pompey, Caesar having a daughter, Julia, who had been before
contracted to Servilius Caepio, now betrothed her to Pompey, and
told Servilius he should have Pompey's daughter, who was not un-
engaged either, but promised to Sylla's son, Faustus. A little time
after, Caesar married Calpurnia, the daughter of Piso, and got Piso
made consul for the year following. Cato exclaimed loudly against
this, and protested with a great deal of warmth, that it was intoler-
able the government should be prostituted by marriages, and that
they should advance one another to the commands of armies, prov-
inces, and other great posts, by means of women. Bibulus, Caesar's
colleague, finding it was to no purpose to oppose his bills, but that
he was in danger of being murdered in the forum, as also was Cato,
confined himself to his house, and there let the remaining part of
his consulship expire. Pompey, when he was married, at once filled
the forum with soldiers, and gave the people his help in passing
the new laws, and secured Caesar the government of all Gaul, both
on this and the other side of the Alps, together with Illyricum and
the command of four legions for five years. Cato made some at-
tempts against these proceedings, but was seized and led off on the
way to prison by Caesar, who expected he would appeal to the trib-
unes. But when he saw that Cato went along without speaking
a word, and not only the nobility were indignant, but that the peo-
ple, also, out of respect for Cato's virtue, were following in silence,
and with dejected looks, he himself privately desired one of the
tribunes to rescue Cato. As for the other senators, some few of
them attended the house, the rest being disgusted, absented them-
selves. Hence Considius, a very old man, took occasion one day
to tell Caesar, that the senators did not meet because they were

276 plutarch's lives

afraid of his soldiers. Cxsar asked, "Why don't you then, out of
the same fear, keep at home?" To which Considius replied, that
age was his guard against fear, and that the small remains of his
life were not worth much caution. But the most disgraceful thing
that was done in Caesar's consulship, was his assisting to gain the
tribuneship for the same Clodius who had made the attempt upon
his wife's chastity, and intruded upon the secret vigils. He was
elected on purpose to effect Cicero's downfall; nor did Cxsar leave
the city to join his army, till they two had overpowered Cicero, and
driven him out of Italy.

Thus far we have followed Caesar's actions before the wars of
Gaul. After this, he seems to begin his course afresh, and to enter
upon a new life and scene of action. And the period of those wars
which he now fought, and those many expeditions in which he sub-
dued Gaul, showed him to be a soldier and general not in the
least inferior to any of the greatest and most admired commanders
who had ever appeared at the head of armies. For if we compare
him with the Fabii, the Metelli, the Scipios, and with those who
were his contemporaries, or not long before him, Sylla Marius, the
two Luculli, or even Pompey himself, whose glory, it may be said,
went up at that time to heaven for every excellence in war, we shall
find Caesar's actions to have surpassed them all. One he may be
held to have outdone in consideration of the difficulty of the coun-
try in which he fought, another in the extent of territory which he
conquered; some, in the number and strength of the enemies whom
he defeated; one man, because of the wildness and perfidiousness
of the tribes whose good-will he conciliated, another in his human-
ity and clemency to those he overpowered; others, again in his gifts
and kindnesses to his soldiers; all alike in the number of the battles
which he fought and the enemies whom he killed. For he had not
pursued the wars in Gaul full ten years, when he had taken by
storm above eight hundred towns, subdued three hundred states,
and of the three millions of men, who made up the gross sum of
those with whom at several times he engaged, he had killed one
million, and taken captive a second.

He was so much master of the good-will and hearty service of his
soldiers, that those who in other expeditions were but ordinary men,

CESAR 277

displayed a courage past defeating or withstanding when they went
upon any danger where Caesar's glory was concerned. Such a one
was Acilius, who, in the sea-fight before Marseilles, had his right
hand struck off with a sword, yet did not quit his buckler out of his
left, but struck the enemies in the face with it, till he drove them
off, and made himself master of the vessel. Such another was Cas-
sius Scaeva, who, in a battle near Dyrrhachium, had one of his eyes
shot out with an arrow, his shoulder pierced with one javelin, and
his thigh with another; and having received one hundred and thirty
darts upon his target, called to the enemy, as though he would sur-
render himself. But when two of them came up to him, he cut off
the shoulder of one with a sword, and by a blow over the face
forced the other to retire, and so with the assistance of his friends,
who now came up, made his escape. Again, in Britain, when some
of the foremost officers had accidentally got into a morass full of
water, and there were assaulted by the enemy, a common soldier,
whilst Caesar stood and looked on, threw himself into the midst
of them, and after many signal demonstrations of his valor, rescued
the officers, and beat off the barbarians. He himself, in the end, took
to the water, and with much difficulty, pardy by swimming, pardy
by wading, passed it, but in the passage lost his shield. Caesar and
his officers saw it and admired, and went to meet him with joy and
acclamation. But the soldier, much dejected and in tears, threw him-
self down at Caesar's feet, and begged his pardon for having let
go his buckler. Another time in Africa, Scipio having taken a ship
of Caesar's in which Granius Petro, lately appointed quaestor, was
sailing, gave the other passengers as free prize to his soldiers, but
thought fit to offer the quaestor his life. But he said it was not usual
for Caesar's soldiers to take, but give mercy, and having said so, fell
upon his sword and killed himself.

This love of honor and passion for distinction were inspired into
them and cherished in them by Caesar himself, who, by his unspar-
ing distribution of money and honors, showed them that he did
not heap up wealth from the wars for his own luxury, or the
gratifying his private pleasures, but that all he received was but a
public fund laid by for the reward and encouragement of valor, and
that he looked upon all he gave to deserving soldiers as so much

278 Plutarch's lives

increase to his own riches. Added to this, also, there was no danger
to which he did not willingly expose himself, no labor from which
he pleaded an exemption. His contempt of danger was not so much
wondered at by his soldiers, because they knew how much he cov-
eted honor. But his enduring so much hardship, which he did to
all appearance beyond his natural strength, very much astonished
them. For he was a spare man, had a soft and white skin, was dis-
tempered in the head, and subject to an epilepsy, which, it is said,
first seized him at Corduba. But he did not make the weakness
of his constitution a pretext for his ease, but rather used war as the
best physic against his indispositions; whilst by indefatigable jour-
neys, coarse diet, frequent lodging in the field, and continual la-
borious exercise, he struggled with his diseases, and fortified his
body against all attacks. He slept generally in his chariots or lit-
ters, employing even his rest in pursuit of action. In the day he
was thus carried to the forts, garrisons, and camps, one servant
sitting with him, who used to write down what he dictated as he
went, and a soldier attending behind with his sword drawn. He
drove so rapidly, that when he first left Rome, he arrived at the
river Rhone within eight days. He had been an expert rider from
his childhood; for it was usual with him to sit with his hands joined
together behind his back, and so to put his horse to its full speed.
And in this war he disciplined himself so far as to be able to dic-
tate letters from on horseback, and to give directions to two who
took notes at the same time, or, as Oppius says, to more. And it is
thought that he was the first who contrived means for communicat-
ing with friends by cipher, when either press of business, or the
large extent of the city, left him no time for a personal conference
about matters that required despatch. How little nice he was in
his diet, may be seen in the following instance. When at the table
of Valerius Leo, who entertained him at supper at Milan, a dish of
asparagus was put before him, on which his host instead of oil had
poured sweet ointment. Caesar partook of it without any disgust,
and reprimanded his friends for finding fault with it. "For it was
enough," said he, "not to eat what you did not like; but he who
reflects on another man's want of breeding, shows he wants it as
much himself." Another time upon the road he was driven by a

CiESAR 279

storm into a poor man's cottage, where he found but one room, and
that such as would afford but a mean reception to a single person,
and therefore told his companions, places of honor should be given
up to the greater men, and necessary accommodations to the weaker,
and accordingly ordered that Oppius, who was in bad health, should
lodge within, whilst he and the rest slept under a shed at the door.

His first war in Gaul was against the Helvetians and Tigurini,
who having burnt their own towns, twelve in number, and four
hundred villages, would have marched forward through that part
of Gaul which was included in the Roman province, as the Cim-
brians and Teutons formerly had done. Nor were they inferior to
these in courage; and in numbers they were equal, being in all
three hundred thousand, of which one hundred and ninety thou-
sand were fighting men. Carsar did not engage the Tigurini in
person, but Labienus, under his directions, routed them near the
river Arar. The Helvetians surprised Caesar, and unexpectedly set
upon him as he was conducting his army to a confederate town. He
succeeded, however, in making his retreat into a strong position,
where, when he had mustered and marshalled his men, his horse
was brought to him; upon which he said, "When I have won the
battle, I will use my horse for the chase, but at present let us go
against the enemy," and accordingly charged them on foot. After a
long and severe combat, he drove the main army out of the field,
but found the hardest work at their carriages and ramparts, where
not only the men stood and fought but the women also and children
defended themselves, till they were cut to pieces; insomuch that the
fight was scarcely ended till midnight. This action, glorious in it-
self, Carsar crowned with another yet more noble, by gathering in a
body all the barbarians that had escaped out of the battle, above
one hundred thousand in number, and obliging them to reoccupy
the country which they had deserted, and the cities which they had
burnt. This he did for fear the Germans should pass in and possess
themselves of the land whilst it lay uninhabited.

His second war was in defence of the Gauls against the Germans,
though some time before he had made Ariovistus, their king, recog-
nized at Rome as an ally. But they were very insufferable neigh-
bours to those under his government; and it was probable, when

280 plutarch's lives

occasion offered, they would renounce the present arrangements,
and march on to occupy Gaul. But finding his officers timorous,
and especially those of the young nobility who came along with him
in hopes of turning their campaigns with him into a means for their
own pleasure or profit, he called them together, and advised them
to march off, and not run the hazard of a battle against their inclina-
tions, since they had such weak and unmanly feelings; telling them
that he would take only the tenth legion, and march against the
barbarians, whom he did not expect to find an enemy more for-
midable than the Cimbri, nor, he added, should they find him a
general inferior to Marius. Upon this, the tenth legion deputed
some of their body to pay him their acknowledgments and thanks,
and the other legions blamed their officers, and all, with great vigor
and zeal, followed him many days' journey till they encamped
within two hundred furlongs of the enemy. Ariovistus's courage
to some extent was cooled upon their very approach; for never ex-
pecting the Romans would attack the Germans, whom he had
thought it more likely they would not venture to withstand even
in defence of their own subjects, he was the more surprised at Cae-
sar's conduct, and saw his army to be in consternation. They were
still more discouraged by the prophecies of their holy women, who
foretell the future by observing the eddies of rivers, and taking
signs from the windings and noise of streams, and who now warned
them not to engage before the next new moon appeared. Caesar
having had intimation of this, and seeing the Germans lie still,
thought it expedient to attack them whilst they were under these
apprehensions, rather than sit still and wait their time. Accordingly
he made his approaches to the strongholds and hills on which they
lay encamped, and so galled and fretted them, that at last they
came down with great fury to engage. But he gained a signal vic-
tory, and pursued them for four hundred furlongs, as far as the
Rhine; all which space was covered with spoils and bodies of the
slain. Ariovistus made shift to pass the Rhine with the small re-
mains of an army, for it is said the number of the slain amounted
to eighty thousand.

After this action, Caesar left his army at their winter-quarters in
the country of the Sequani, and in order to attend to affairs at Rome,

CESAR 28l

went into that part of Gaul which lies on the Po, and was part of
his province; for the river Rubicon divides Gaul, which is on this
side the Alps, from the rest of Italy. There he sat down and em-
ployed himself in courting people's favor; great numbers coming
to him continually, and always finding their requests answered;
for he never failed to dismiss all with present pledges of his kind-
ness in hand, and further hopes for the future. And during all this
time of the war in Gaul, Pompey never observed how Caesar was
on the one hand using the arms of Rome to effect his conquests, and
on the other was gaining over and securing to himself the favor of
the Romans, with the wealth which those conquests obtained him.
But when he heard that the Belgae, who were the most powerful of
all the Gauls, and inhabited a third part of the country, were re-
volted, and had got together a great many thousand men in arms,
he immediately set out and took his way thither with great expedi-
tion, and falling upon the enemy as they were ravaging the Gauls,
his allies, he soon defeated and put to flight the largest and least
scattered division of them. For though their numbers were great,
yet they made but a slender defence, and the marshes and deep
rivers were made passable to the Roman foot by the vast quantity
of dead bodies. Of those who revolted, all the tribes that lived near
the ocean came over without fighting, and he, therefore, led his
army against the Nervii, the fiercest and most warlike people of
all in those parts. These live in a country covered with continuous
woods, and having lodged their children and property out of the
way in the depth of the forest, fell upon Caesar with a body of sixty
thousand men, before he was prepared for them, while he was mak-
ing his encampment. They soon routed his cavalry, and having sur-
rounded the twelfth and seventh legions, killed all the officers, and
had not Carsar himself snatched up a buckler, and forced his way
through his own men to come up to the barbarians, or had not the
tenth legion, when they saw him in danger, run in from the tops of
the hills, where they lay, and broken through the enemy's ranks
to rescue him, in all probability not a Roman would have been
saved. But now, under the influence of Caesar's bold example, they
fought a battle, as the phrase is, of more than human courage, and
yet with their utmost efforts they were not able to drive the enemy

282 plutarch's lives

out of the field, but cut them down fighting in their defence. For
out of sixty thousand men, it is stated that not above five hundred
survived the battle, and of four hundred of their senators not above
three.

When the Roman senate had received news of this, they voted
sacrifices and festivals to the gods, to be strictly observed for the
space of fifteen days, a longer space than ever was observed for any
victory before. The danger to which they had been exposed by the
joint outbreak of such a number of nations was felt to have been
great; and the people's fondness for Caesar gave additional lustre to
successes achieved by him. He now, after settling everything in
Gaul, came back again, and spent the winter by the Po, in order
to carry on the designs he had in hand at Rome. All who were
candidates for offices used his assistance, and were supplied with
money from him to corrupt the people and buy their votes, in return
of which, when they were chosen, they did all things to advance his
power. But what was more considerable, the most eminent and
powerful men in Rome in great numbers came to visit him at Lucca,
Pompey, and Crassus, and Appius, the governor of Sardinia, and
Nepos, the proconsul of Spain, so that there were in the place at
one time one hundred and twenty lictors, and more than two hun-
dred senators. In deliberation here held, it was determined that
Pompey and Crassus should be consuls again for the following
year; that Caesar should have a fresh supply of money, and that his
command should be renewed to him for five years more. It seemed
very extravagant to all thinking men, that those very persons who
had received so much money from Caesar should persuade the sen-
ate to grant him more, as if he were in want. Though in truth it
was not so much upon persuasion as compulsion, that, with sor-
row and groans for their own acts, they passed the measure. Cato
was not present, for they had sent him seasonably out of the way
into Cyprus; but Favonius, who was a zealous imitator of Cato,
when he found he could do no good by opposing it, broke out of
the house, and loudly declaimed against these proceedings to the
people, but none gave him any hearing; some slighting him out of
respect to Crassus and Pompey, and the greater part to gratify
Caesar, on whom depended their hopes.

CJESAX. 283

After this, Ca»sar returned again to his forces in Gaul, where he
found that country involved in a dangerous war, two strong na-
tions of the Germans having lately passed the Rhine, to conquer it;
one of them called the Usipes, the other the Tenteritac. 2 Of the war
with this people, Caesar himself has given this account in his com-
mentaries, that the barbarians, having sent ambassadors to treat
with him, did, during the treaty, set upon him in his march, by
which means with eight hundred men they routed five thousand
of his horse, who did not suspect their coming; that afterwards they
sent other ambassadors to renew the same fraudulent practices,
whom he kept in custody, and led on his army against the barba-
rians, as judging it mere simplicity to keep faith with those who
had so faithlessly broken the terms they had agreed to. But Tanu-
sius states, that when the senate decreed festivals and sacrifices for
this victory, Cato declared it to be his opinion that Caesar ought to
be given into the hands of the barbarians, that so the guilt which
this breach of faith might otherwise bring upon the state, might
be expiated by transferring the curse on him, who was the occa-
sion of it. Of those who passed the Rhine, there were four hundred
thousand cut off; those few who escaped were sheltered by the
Sugambri, a people of Germany. Caesar took hold of this pretence
to invade the Germans, being at the same time ambitious of the
honor of being the first man that should pass the Rhine with an
army. He carried a bridge across it, though it was very wide, and
the current at that particular point very full, strong, and violent,
bringing down with its waters trunks of trees, and other lumber,
which much shook and weakened the foundations of his bridge.
But he drove great piles of wood into the bottom of the river above
the passage, to catch and stop these as they floated down, and thus
fixing his bridle upon the stream, successfully finished his bridge,
which no one who saw could believe to be the work but of ten
days.

In the passage of his army over it, he met with no opposition;
the Suevi themselves, who are the most warlike people of all Ger-

1 The Usipetcs and Tenctcri of Cxsar's own narrative. The Sugambri below are
the same as the Sigambri or Sicambri in the neighborhood of the river Sicg. Tanusius
was an historical writer, and is quoted by Suetonius. The bridge was probably a little
below Coolenz.

284 plutarch's lives

many, flying with their effects into the deepest and most densely
wooded valleys. When he had burnt all the enemy's country, and
encouraged those who embraced the Roman interest, he went back
into Gaul, after eighteen days' stay in Germany. But his expedition
into Britain was the most famous testimony of his courage. For
he was the first who brought a navy into the western ocean, or who
sailed into the Atlantic with an army to make war; and by invading
an island, the reported extent of which had made its existence a
matter of controversy among historians, many of whom questioned
whether it were not a mere name and fiction, not a real place, he
might be said to have carried the Roman empire beyond the limits
of the known world. He passed thither twice from that part of
Gaul which lies over against it, and in several battles which he
fought, did more hurt to the enemy than service to himself, for the
islanders were so miserably poor, that they had nothing worth being
plundered of. When he found himself unable to put such an end
to the war as he wished, he was content to take hostages from the
king, and to impose a tribute, and then quitted the island. At his
arrival in Gaul, he found letters which lay ready to be conveyed
over the water to him from his friends at Rome, announcing his
daughter's death, who died in labor of a child by Pompey. Csesar
and Pompey both were much afflicted with her death, nor were
their friends less disturbed, believing that the alliance was now
broken, which had hitherto kept the sickly commonwealth in peace,
for the child also died within a few days after the mother. The
people took the body of Julia, in spite of the opposition of the
tribunes, and carried it into the field of Mars, and there her funeral
rites were performed, and her remains are laid.

Caesar's army was now grown very numerous, so that he was
forced to disperse them into various camps for their winter-quarters,
and he having gone himself to Italy, as he used to do, in his ab-
sence a general outbreak throughout the whole of Gaul com-
menced, and large armies marched about the country, and attacked
the Roman quarters, and attempted to make themselves masters of
the forts where they lay. The greatest and strongest party of the
rebels, under the command of Abriorix, cut off Cotta and Titurius
with all their men, while a force of sixty thousand strong besieged

CiESAR 285

the legion under the command of Cicero,' and had almost taken
it by storm, the Roman soldiers being all wounded, and having
quite spent themselves by a defence beyond their natural strength.
But Caesar, who was at a great distance, having received the news,
quickly got together seven thousand men, and hastened to relieve
Cicero. The besiegers were aware of it, and went to meet him,
with great confidence that they should easily overpower such an
handful of men. Caesar, to increase their presumption, seemed to
avoid fighting, and still marched off, till he found a place conveni-
ently situated for a few to engage against many, where he en-
camped. He kept his soldiers from making any attack upon the
enemy, and commanded them to raise the ramparts higher, and
barricade the gates, that by show of fear, they might heighten the
enemy's contempt of them. Till at last they came without any order
in great security to make an assault, when he issued forth, and put
them to flight with the loss of many men.

This quieted the greater part of the commotions in these parts of
Gaul and Caesar, in the course of the winter, visited every part of
the country, and with great vigilance took precautions against all
innovations. For there were three legions now come to him to
supply the place of the men he had lost, of which Pompey furnished
him with two, out of those under his command; the other was
newly raised in the part of Gaul by the Po. But in a while the seeds
of war, which had long since been secretly sown and scattered by
the most powerful men in those warlike nations, broke forth into
the greatest and most dangerous war that ever was in those parts,
both as regards the number of men in the vigor of their youth who
were gathered and armed from all quarters, the vast funds of money
collected to maintain it, the strength of the towns, and the difficulty
of the country where it was carried on. It being winter, the rivers
were frozen, the woods covered with snow, and the level country
flooded, so that in some places the ways were lost through the depth
of the snow; in others, the overflowing of marshes and streams made
every kind of passage uncertain. All which difficulties made it seem
impracticable for Caesar to make any attempt upon the insurgents.
Many tribes had revolted together, the chief of them being the Ar-

* Quiutus Cicero, the orator's brother. Abriorix is Ambiorix of the Commentaries.

286 plutarch's lives

verni and Carnutini; 4 the general who had the supreme command
in war was Vergentorix, whose father the Gauls had put to death
on suspicion of his aiming at absolute government.

He having disposed his army in several bodies, and set officers
over them, drew over to him all the country round about as far as
those that lie upon the Arar, and having intelligence of the opposi-
tion which Caesar now experienced at Rome, thought to engage all
Gaul in the war. Which if he had done a little later, when Caesar
was taken up with the civil wars, Italy had been put into as great
a terror as before it was by the Cimbri. But Carsar, who above all
men was gifted with the faculty of making the right use of every
thing in war, and most especially of seizing the right moment, as
soon as he heard of the revolt, returned immediately the same way
he went, and showed the barbarians, by the quickness of his march
in such a severe season, that an army was advancing against them
which was invincible. For in the time that one would have thought
it scarce credible that a courier or express should have come with
a message from him, he himself appeared with all his army, ravag-
ing the country, reducing their posts, subduing their towns, receiv-
ing into his protection those who declared for him. Till at last the
Edui, who hitherto had styled themselves brethren to the Romans,
and had been much honored by them, declared against him, and
joined the rebels, to the great discouragement of his army. Accord-
ingly he removed thence, and passed the country of the Lingones,
desiring to reach the territories of the Sequani, who were his
friends, and who lay like a bulwark in front of Italy against the
other tribes of Gaul. There the enemy came upon him, and sur-
rounded him with many myriads, whom he also was eager to engage;
and at last, after some time and with much slaughter, gained on
the whole a complete victory; though at first he appears to have
met with some reverse, and the Aruveni show you a small sword
hanging up in a temple, which they say was taken from Caesar.
Caesar saw this afterwards himself, and smiled, and when his friends

* The Arverni, the same people whom he presently calls (he Aruveni, of the moun-
tains of Auvergne, and the Carnutes of the country around Orleans. Vergentorix
appears to be a Greek abbreviation of Vercingctorix, the full name given by Czsar,
which is itself conceived to have been not a proper name, but a tide.

CiESAR 287

advised it should be taken down, would not permit it, because he
looked upon it as consecrated.

After the defeat, a great part of those who had escaped, fled with
their king into a town called Alesia, which Carsar besieged, though
the height of the walls, and number of those who defended them,
made it appear impregnable; and meantime, from without the
walls, he was assailed by a greater danger than can be expressed.
For the choice men of Gaul, picked out of each nation, and well
armed, came to relieve Alesia, to the number of three hundred
thousand; nor were there in the town less than one hundred and
seventy thousand. So that Caesar being shut betwixt two such
forces, was compelled to protect himself by two walls, one towards
the town, the other against the relieving army, as knowing if these
forces should join, his affairs would be entirely ruined. The danger
that he underwent before Alesia, 5 justly gained him great honor on
many accounts, and gave him an opportunity of showing greater
instances of his valor and conduct than any other contest had done.
One wonders much how he should be able to engage and defeat
so many thousands of men without the town, and not be perceived
by those within, but yet more, that the Romans themselves, who
guarded their wall which was next the town, should be strangers to
it. For even they knew nothing of the victory, till they heard the
cries of the men and lamentations of the women who were in the
town, and had from thence seen the Romans at a distance carrying
into their camp a great quantity of bucklers, adorned with gold and
silver, many breastplates stained with blood, besides cups and tents
made in the Gallic fashion. So soon did so vast an army dissolve
and vanish like a ghost or dream, the greatest part of them being
killed upon the spot. Those who were in Alesia, having given
themselves and Csesar much trouble, surrendered at last; and Ver-
gentorix, who was the chief spring of all the war, putting his best
armor on, and adorning his horse, rode out of the gates, and made

5 Alesia is identified with Alise, or with the summit of Mount Auxois, near Flavifjny,
not far from Dijon. The course of Roman occupation, interposing between Central
Gaul and the German competitors for its possession, seems to follow the line of the
Rhone and Saone upwards, and the Meuse and Moselle downwards, from Marseilles
and Lyons to Treves and the Rhine. Alesia is near the head waters of the Saone,

288 plutarch's lives

a turn about Caesar as he was sitting, then quitted his horse, threw
off his armor, and remained seated quietly at Caesar's feet until he
was led away to be reserved for the triumph.

Caesar had long ago resolved upon the overthrow of Pompey, as
had Pompey, for that matter, upon his. For Crassus, the fear of
whom had hitherto kept them in peace, having now been killed in
Parthia, if the one of them wished to make himself the greatest
man in Rome, he had only to overthrow the other; and if he again
wished to prevent his own fall, he had nothing for it but to be
beforehand with him whom he feared. Pompey had not been long
under any such apprehensions, having till lately despised Caesar,
as thinking it no difficult matter to put down him whom he him-
self had advanced. But Caesar had entertained this design from the
beginning against his rivals, and had retired, like an expert wrestler,
to prepare himself apart for the combat. Making the Gallic wars
his exercise-ground, he had at once improved the strength of his
soldiery, and had heightened his own glory by his great actions,
so that he was looked on as one who might challenge comparison
with Pompey. Nor did he let go any of those advantages which
were now given him both by Pompey himself and the times, and
the ill government of Rome, where all who were candidates for
offices publicly gave money, and without any shame bribed the peo-
ple, who having received their pay, did not contend for their bene-
factors with their bare suffrages, but with bows, swords, and slings.
So that after having many times stained the place of election with
the blood of men killed upon the spot, they left the city at last
without a government at all, to be carried about like a ship with-
out a pilot to steer her; while all who had any wisdom could only
be thankful if a course of such wild and stormy disorder and mad-
ness might end no worse than in a monarchy. Some were so bold
as to declare openly, that the government was incurable but by a
monarchy, and that they ought to take that remedy from the hands
of the gentlest physician, meaning Pompey, who, though in words
he pretended to decline it, yet in reality made his utmost efforts to
be declared dictator. Cato perceiving his design, prevailed with the
senate to make him sole consul, that with the offer of a more legal
sort of monarchy he might be withheld from demanding the die-

CJESAK 289

tatorship. They over and above voted him the continuance of his
provinces, for he had two, Spain and all Africa, which he governed
by his lieutenants, and maintained armies under him, at the yearly
charge of a thousand talents out of the public treasury.

Upon this Caesar also sent and petitioned for the consulship, and
the continuance of his provinces. Pompey at first did not stir in it,
but Marcellus and Lentulus opposed it, who had always hated
Caesar, and now did every thing, whether fit or unfit, which might
disgrace and affront him. For they took away the privilege of Ro-
man citizens from the people of New Comum, who were a colony
that Caesar had lately planted in Gaul; and Marcellus, who was then
consul, ordered one of the senators of that town, then at Rome, to
be whipped, and told him he laid that mark upon him to signify
he was no citizen of Rome, bidding him, when he went back again,
to show it to Caesar. After Marcellus's consulship, Caesar began to
lavish gifts upon all the public men out of the riches he had taken
from the Gauls; discharged Curio, the tribune, from his great debts;
gave Paulus, then consul, fifteen hundred talents, with which he
built the noble court of justice 6 adjoining the forum, to supply the
place of that called the Fulvian. Pompey, alarmed at these prepara-
tions, now openly took steps, both by himself and his friends, to
have a successor appointed in Caesar's room, and sent to demand
back the soldiers whom he had lent him to carry on the wars in
Gaul. Caesar returned them, and made each soldier a present of
two hundred and fifty drachmas. The officer who brought them
home to Pompey, spread amongst the people .no very fair or favor-
able report of Caesar, and flattered Pompey himself with false sug-
gestions that he was wished for by Caesar's army; and though his
affairs here were in some embarrassment through the envy of some,
and the ill state of the government, yet there the army was at his
command, and if they once crossed into Italy, would presently de-
clare for him; so weary were they of Caesar's endless expeditions,
and so suspicious of his designs for a monarchy. Upon this Pom-
pey grew presumptuous, and neglected all warlike preparations, as
fearing no danger, and used no other means against him than mere
speeches and votes, for which Caesar cared nothing. And one of

'Or basilica.

290 PLUTARCH S LIVES

his captains, it is said, who was sent by him to Rome, standing
before the senate-house one day, and being told that the senate
would not give Caesar a longer time in his government, clapped his
hand on the hilt of his sword, and said, "But this shall."

Yet the demands which Caesar made had the fairest colors of
equity imaginable. For he proposed to lay down his arms, and that
Pompey should do the same, and both together should become pri-
vate men, and each expect a reward of his services from the public.
For that those who proposed to disarm him, and at the same time
to confirm Pompey in all the power he held, were simply establish-
ing the one in the tyranny which they accused the other of aiming
at. When Curio made these proposals to the people in Caesar's
name, he was loudly applauded, and some threw garlands towards
him, and dismissed him as they do successful wrestlers, crowned
with flowers. Antony, being tribune, produced a letter sent from
Caesar on this occasion, and read it, though the consuls did what they
could to oppose it. But Scipio, Pompey 's father-in-law, proposed in
the senate, that if Caesar did not lay down his arms within such a
time, he should be voted an enemy; and the consuls putting it to the
question, whether Pompey should dismiss his soldiers, and again,
whether Caesar should disband his, very few assented to the first,
but almost all to the latter. But Antony proposing again, that both
should lay down their commissions, all but a very few agreed to it.
Scipio was upon this very violent, and Lentulus the consul cried
aloud, that they had need of arms, and not of suffrages, against a
robber; so that the senators for the present adjourned, and appeared
in mourning as a mark of their grief for the dissension.

Afterwards there came other letters from Caesar, which seemed
yet more moderate, for he proposed to quit every thing else, and
only to retain Gaul within the Alps, Illyricum, and two legions, till
he should stand a second time for consul. Cicero, the orator, who
was lately returned from Cilicia, endeavored to reconcile differences,
and softened Pompey, who was willing to comply in other things,
but not to allow him the soldiers. At last Cicero used his persua-
sions with Caesar's friends to accept of the provinces, and six thou-
sand soldiers only, and so to make up the quarrel. And Pompey
was inclined to give way to this, but Lentulus, the consul, would

OiESAR 29I

not hearken to it, but drove Antony and Curio out of the senate-
house with insults, by which he afforded Caesar the most plausible
pretence that could be, and one which he could readily use to in-
flame the soldiers, by showing them two persons of such repute and
authority, who were forced to escape in a hired carriage in the
dress of slaves. For so they were glad to disguise themselves, when
they fled out of Rome.

There were not about him at that time above three hundred
horse, and five thousand foot; for the rest of his army, which was
left behind the Alps, was to be brought after him by officers who
had received orders for that purpose. But he thought the first mo-
tion towards the design which he had on foot did not require large
forces at present, and that what was wanted was to make this first
step suddenly, and so as to astound his enemies with the boldness
of it; as it would be easier, he thought, to throw them into con-
sternation by doing what they never anticipated, than fairly to
conquer them, if he had alarmed them by his preparations. And
therefore, he commanded his captains and other officers to go only
with their swords in their hands, without any other arms, and
make themselves masters of Ariminum, a large city of Gaul, with as
little disturbance and bloodshed as possible. He committed the
care of these forces to Hortensius, and himself spent the day in
public as a stander-by and spectator of the gladiators, who exercised
before him. A little before night he attended to his person, and then
went into the hall, and conversed for some time with those he had
invited to supper, till it began to grow dusk, when he rose from
table, and made his excuses to the company, begging them to stay
till he came back, having already given private directions to a few
immediate friends, that they should follow him, not all the same
way, but some one way, some another. He himself got into one of
the hired carriages, and drove at first another way, but presently
turned towards Ariminum. When he came to the river Rubicon,
which parts Gaul within the Alps from the rest of Italy, his thoughts
began to work, now he was just entering upon the danger, and he
wavered much in his mind, when he considered the greatness of
the enterprise into which he was throwing himself. He checked his
course, and ordered a halt, while he revolved with himself, and

292 PLUTARCH S LIVES

often changed his opinion one way and the other, without speak-
ing a word. This was when his purposes fluctuated most; pres-
ently he also discussed the matter with his friends who were about
him, (of which number Asinius Pollio was one), computing how
many calamities his passing that river would bring upon mankind,
and what a relation of it would be transmitted to posterity. At
last, in a sort of passion, casting aside calculation, and abandoning
himself to what might come, and using the proverb frequently in
their mouths who enter upon dangerous and bold attempts, "The
die is cast," with these words he took the river. Once over, he used
all expedition possible, and before it was day reached Ariminum,
and took it. It is said that the night before he passed the river, he
had an impious dream, that he was unnaturally familiar with his
own mother.

As soon as Ariminum was taken, wide gates, so to say, were
thrown open, to let in war upon every land alike and sea, and with
the limits of the province, the boundaries of the laws were trans-
gressed. Nor would one have thought that, as at other times, the
mere men and women fled from one town of Italy to another in
their consternation, but that the very towns themselves left their
sites, and fled for succor to each other. The city of Rome was over-
run as it were with a deluge, by the conflux of people flying in from
all the neighboring places. Magistrates could no longer govern,
nor the eloquence of any orator quiet it; it was all but suffering
shipwreck by the violence of its own tempestuous agitation. The
most vehement contrary passions and impulses were at work every
where. Nor did those who rejoiced at the prospect of the change
altogether conceal their feelings, but when they met, as in so great
a city they frequently must, with the alarmed and dejected of the
other party, they provoked quarrels by their bold expressions of
confidence in the event. Pompey, sufficiently disturbed of himself,
was yet more perplexed by the clamors of others; some telling him
that he justly suffered for having armed Caesar against himself and
the government; others blaming him for permitting Carsar to be
insolently used by Lentulus, when he made such ample conces-
sions, and offered such reasonable proposals towards an accommo-
dation. Favonius bade him now stamp upon the ground; for once
talking big in the senate, he desired them not to trouble themselves

CAESAR. 293

about making any preparations for the war, for that he himself,
with one stamp of his foot, would fill all Italy with soldiers. Yet
still Pompey at that time had more forces than Caesar; but he was
not permitted to pursue his own thoughts, but being continually
disturbed with false reports and alarms, as if the enemy was close
upon him and carrying all before him, he gave way, and let
himself be borne down by the general cry. He put forth an
edict declaring the city to be in a state of anarchy, and left it
with orders that the senate should follow him, and that no one
should stay behind who did not prefer tyranny to their country
and liberty.

The consuls at once fled, without making even the usual sacri-
fices; so did most of the senators, carrying off their own goods in as
much haste as if they had been robbing their neighbors. Some,
who had formerly much favored Caesar's cause, in the prevailing
alarm, quitted their own sentiments, and without any prospect of
good to themselves, were carried along by the common stream. It
was a melancholy thing to see the city tossed in these tumults, like
a ship given up by her pilots, and left to run, as chance guides her,
upon any rock in her way. Yet, in spite of their sad condition, peo-
ple still esteemed the place of their exile to be their country for
Pompey 's sake, and fled from Rome, as if it had been Caesar's camp.
Labienus even, who had been one of Caesar's nearest friends, and
his lieutenant, and who had fought by him zealously in the Gallic
wars, now deserted him, and went over to Pompey. Caesar sent
all his money and equipage after him, and then sat down before
Corfinium, which was garrisoned with thirty cohorts under the
command of Domitius. He, in despair of maintaining the de-
fence, requested a physician, whom he had among his attendants,
to give him poison; and taking the dose, drank it, in hopes of
being dispatched by it. But soon after, when he was told that
Caesar showed the utmost clemency towards those he took pris-
oners, he lamented his misfortune, and blamed the hastiness of his
resolution. His physician consoled him, by informing him that
he had taken a sleeping draught, not a poison; upon which, much
rejoiced, and rising from his bed, he went presently to Caesar, and
gave him the pledge of his hand, yet afterwards again went over
to Pompey. The report of these actions at Rome, quieted those

294 PLUTARCH S LIVES

who were there, and some who had fled thence returned. Caesar
took into his army Domitius's soldiers, as he did all those whom
he found in any town enlisted for Pompey's service. Being now
strong and formidable enough, he advanced against Pompey him-
self, who did not stay to receive him, but fled to Brundisium, having
sent the consuls before with a body of troops to Dyrrhachium. Soon
after, upon Caesar's approach, he set to sea, as shall be more par-
ticularly related in his Life. Caesar would have immediately pur-
sued him, but wanted shipping, and therefore went back to Rome,
having made himself master of all Italy without bloodshed in the
space of sixty days. When he came thither, he found the city more
quiet than he expected, and many senators present, to whom he
addressed himself with courtesy and deference, desiring them to
send to Pompey about any reasonable accommodations towards a
peace. But nobody complied with this proposal; whether out of
fear of Pompey, whom they had deserted, or that they thought
Caesar did not mean what he said, but thought it his interest to talk
plausibly. Afterwards, when Metellus, the tribune, would have
hindered him from taking money out of the public treasure, and
adduced some laws against it, Caesar replied, that arms and laws
had each their own time; "If what I do displeases you, leave the
place; war allows no free talking. When I have laid down my
arms, and made peace, come back and make what speeches you
please. And this," he added, "I will tell you in diminution of my
own just right, as indeed you and all others who have appeared
against me and are now in my power, may be treated as I please."
Having said this to Metellus, he went to the doors of the treasury, and
the keys being not to be found, sent for smiths to force them open.
Metellus again making resistance, and some encouraging him in it,
Caesar, in a louder tone, told him he would put him to death, if he
gave him any further disturbance. "And this," said he, "you know,
young man, is more disagreeable for me to say, than to do." These
words made Metellus withdraw for fear, and obtained speedy exe-
cution henceforth for all orders that Caesar gave for procuring
necessaries for the war.

He was now proceeding to Spain, with the determination of first
crushing Afranius and Varro, Pompey's lieutenants, and making

CjEsar 295

himself master of the armies and provinces under them, that he
might then more securely advance against Pompey, when he had
no enemy left behind him. In this expedition his person was often
in danger from ambuscades, and his army by want of provisions,
yet he did not desist from pursuing the enemy, provoking them to
fight, and hemming them with his fortifications, till by main force
he made himself master of their camps and their forces. Only the
generals got off, and fled to Pompey.

When Carsar came back to Rome, Piso, his father-in-law, advised
him to send men to Pompey, to treat of a peace; but Isauricus, to
ingratiate himself with Cxsar, spoke against it. After this, being
created dictator by the senate, he called home the exiles, and gave
back their rights as citizens to the children of those who had suf-
fered under Sylla; he relieved the debtors by an act remitting some
part of the interest on their debts, and passed some other measures
of the same sort, but not many. For within eleven days he resigned
his dictatorship, and having declared himself consul, with Servilius
Isauricus, hastened again to the war. He marched so fast, that he
left all his army behind him, except six hundred chosen horse, and
five legions, with which he put to sea in the very middle of win-
ter, about the beginning of the month January, (which corresponds
pretty nearly with the Athenian month Posideon), and having past
the Ionian Sea, took Oricum and Apollonia, and then sent back
the ships to Brundisium, to bring over the soldiers who were left
behind in the march. They, while yet on the march, their bodies
now no longer in the full vigor of youth, and they themselves
weary with such a multitude of wars, could not but exclaim against
Caesar, "When at last, and where, will this Carsar let us be quiet?
He carries us from place to place, and uses us as if we were not to
be worn out, and had no sense of labor. Even our iron itself is
spent by blows, and we ought to have some pity on our bucklers
and breastplates, which have been used so long. Our wounds, if
nothing else, should make him see that we are mortal men, whom
he commands, subject to the same pains and sufferings as other
human beings. The very gods themselves cannot force the winter
season, or hinder the storms in their time; yet he pushes forward,
as if he were not pursuing, but flying from an enemy." So they

296 plutarch's lives

talked as they marched leisurely towards Brundisium. But when
they came thither, and found Caesar gone off before them, their
feelings changed, and they blamed themselves as traitors to their
general. They now railed at their officers for marching so slowly,
and placing themselves on the heights overlooking the sea towards
Epirus, they kept watch to see if they could espy the vessels which
were to transport them to Caesar.

He in the mean time was posted in Apollonia, but had not an
army with him able to fight the enemy, the forces from Brundisium
being so long in coming, which put him to great suspense and
embarrassment what to do. At last he resolved upon a most haz-
ardous experiment, and embarked, without any one's knowledge,
in a boat of twelve oars, to cross over to Brundisium, though the sea
was at that time covered with a vast fleet of the enemies. He got on
board in the night time, in the dress of a slave, and throwing him-
self down like a person of no consequence, lay along at the bottom
of the vessel. The river Anius 7 was to carry them down to sea, and
there used to blow a gentle gale every morning from the land,
which made it calm at the mouth of the river, by driving the waves
forward; but this night there had blown a strong wind from the
sea, which overpowered that from the land, so that where the
river met the influx of the sea-water and the opposition of the
waves, it was extremely rough and angry; and the current was
beaten back with such a violent swell, that the master of the boat
could not make good his passage, but ordered his sailors to tack
about and return. Caesar, upon this, discovers himself, and taking
the man by the hand, who was surprised to see him there, said, "Go
on, my friend, and fear nothing; you carry Caesar and his fortune
in your boat." The mariners, when they heard that, forgot the
storm, and laying all their strength to their oars, did what they could
to force their way down the river. But when it was to no purpose,
and the vessel now took in much water, Caesar finding himself in
such danger in the very mouth of the river, much against his will
permitted the master to turn back. When he was come to land, his
soldiers ran to him in a multitude, reproaching him for what he
had done, and indignant that he should think himself not strong

'The Aous or iCas.

CESAR 297

enough to get a victory by their sole assistance, but must disturb
himself, and expose his life for those who were absent, as if he
could not trust those who were with him.

After this, Antony came over with the forces from Brundisium,
which encouraged Caesar to give Pompey battle, though he was en-
camped very advantageously, and furnished with plenty of provi-
sions both by sea and land, whilst he himself was at the beginning
but ill-supplied, and before the end was extremely pinched for want
of necessaries, so that his soldiers were forced to dig up a kind of
root which grew there, and tempering it with milk, to feed on it.
Sometimes they made a kind of bread of it, and advancing up to
the enemy's outposts, would throw in these loaves, telling them,
that as long as the earth produced such roots they would not give up
blockading Pompey. But Pompey took what care he could, that
neither the loaves nor the words should reach his men, who were
out of heart and despondent, through terror at the fierceness and
hardiness of their enemies, whom they looked upon as a sort of
wild beasts. There were continual skirmishes about Pompey's out-
works, in all which Caesar had the better, except one, when his
men were forced to fly in such a manner that he had like to have
lost his camp. For Pompey made such a vigorous sally on them
that not a man stood his ground; the trenches were filled with the
slaughter, many fell upon their own ramparts and bulwarks,
whither they were driven in flight by the enemy. Carsar met them,
and would have turned them back, but could not. When he went
to lay hold of the ensigns, those who carried them threw them
down, so that the enemies took thirty-two of them. He himself
narrowly escaped; for taking hold of one of his soldiers, a big and
strong man, that was flying by him, he bade him stand and face
about; but the fellow, full of apprehensions from the danger he was
in, laid hold of his sword, as if he would strike Caesar, but Caesar's
armor-bearer cut off his arm. Caesar's affairs were so desperate at
that time, that when Pompey, either through over-cautiousness, or
his ill fortune, did not give the finishing stroke to that great suc-
cess, but retreated after he had driven the routed enemy within their
camp, Caesar, upon seeing his withdrawal, said to his friends, "The
victory to-day had been on the enemies' side, if they had had a gen-

298 plutakch's lives

eral who knew how to gain it." When he was retired into his tent,
he laid himself down to sleep, but spent that night as miserably
as ever he did any, in perplexity and consideration with himself,
coming to the conclusion that he had conducted the war amiss. For
when he had a fertile country before him, and all the wealthy cities
of Macedonia and Thessaly, he had neglected to carry the war
thither, and had sat down by the seaside, where his enemies had
such a powerful fleet, so that he was in fact rather besieged by the
want of necessaries, than besieging others with his arms. Being
thus distracted in his thoughts with the view of the difficulty and
distress he was in, he raised his camp, with the intention of ad-
vancing towards Scipio, who lay in Macedonia; hoping either to
entice Pompey into a country where he should fight without the
advantage he now had of supplies from the sea, or to overpower
Scipio, if not assisted.

This set all Pompey's army and officers on fire to hasten and
pursue Caesar, whom they concluded to be beaten and flying. But
Pompey was afraid to hazard a battle on which so much depended,
and being himself provided with all necessaries for any length of
time, thought to tire out and waste the vigor of Caesar's army, which
could not last long. For the best part of his men, though they had
great experience, and showed an irresistible courage in all engage-
ments, yet by their frequent marches, changing their camps," at-
tacking fortifications, and keeping long night-watches, were getting
worn-out and broken; they being now old, their bodies less fit for
labor, and their courage, also, beginning to give way with the failure
of their strength. Besides, it was said that an infectious disease, oc-
casioned by their irregular diet, was prevailing in Caesar's army,
and what was of greatest moment, he was neither furnished with
money nor provisions, so that in a little time he must needs fall
of himself.

For these reasons Pompey had no mind to fight him, but was
thanked for it by none but Cato, who rejoiced at the prospect of
sparing his fellow-citizens. For he when he saw the dead bodies of
those who had fallen in the last batde on Caesar's side, to the num-

' Or, perhaps more probably, "raising fortifications," which had been very much
their occupation latterly. Up to this point the campaign had been a war of intrench-

ments.

CESAR 299

ber of a thousand, turned away, covered his face, and shed tears.
But every one else upbraided Pompey for being reluctant to fight,
and tried to goad him on by such nicknames as Agamemnon, and
king of kings, as if he were in no hurry to lay down his sovereign
authority, but was pleased to see so many commanders attending
on him, and paying their attendance at his tent. Favonius, who
affected Cato's free way of speaking his mind, complained bit-
terly that they should eat no figs even this year at Tusculum, be-
cause of Pompey 's love of command. Afranius, who was lately
returned out of Spain, and on account of his ill success there, la-
bored under the suspicion of having been bribed to betray the army,
asked why they did not fight this purchaser of provinces. Pompey
was driven, against his own will, by this kind of language, into
offering battle, and proceeded to follow Caesar. Csesar had found
great difficulties in his march, for no country would supply him
with provisions, his reputation being very much fallen since his
late defeat. But after he took Gomphi, a town of Thessaly, he not
only found provisions for his army, but physic too. For there they
met with plenty of wine, which they took very freely, and heated
with this, sporting and revelling on their march in bacchanalian
fashion, they shook off the disease, and their whole constitution
was relieved and changed into another habit.

When the two armies were come into Pharsalia,' and both en-
camped there, Pompey's thoughts ran the same way as they had
done before, against fighting, and the more because of some un-
lucky presages, and a vision he had in a dream. 10 But those who
were about him were so confident of success, that Domitius, and
Spinther, and Scipio, as if they had already conquered, quarrelled
which should succeed Czsar in the pontificate. And many sent to
Rome to take houses fit to accommodate consuls and prxtors, as
being sure of entering upon those offices, as soon as the battle was
over. The cavalry especially were obstinate for fighting, being splen-

' "Into Pharsalia," is properly "into the territory of the town of Pharsalus," and in
other passages where the battle is mentioned in the translation by the name, as the
Romans use it, of Pharsalia, the Greek is Pharsalus.

10 Here follows the words, "He fancied he saw himself in the theatre, receiving the
plaudits of the people." Either the text is incomplete, and the remainder of the
description has been lost, or else it is the imperfect explanation added in the margin
by an annotator. The full account is given in the Life of Pompey.

300 plutarch's lives

didly armed and bravely mounted, and valuing themselves upon
the fine horses they kept, and upon their own handsome persons;
as also upon the advantage of their numbers, for they were five
thousand against one thousand of Caesar's. Nor were the numbers
of the infantry less disproportionate, there being forty-five thousand
of Pompey's, against twenty-two thousand of the enemy.

Caesar, collecting his soldiers together, told them that Corfinius 11
was coming up to them with two legions, and that fifteen cohorts
more under Calenus were posted at Megara and Athens; he then
asked them whether they would stay till these joined them, or would
hazard the battle by themselves. They all cried out to him not to
wait, but on the contrary to do whatever he could to bring about an
engagement as soon as possible. When he sacrificed to the gods
for the lustration of his army, upon the death of the first victim, the
augur told him, within three days he should come to a decisive
action. Caesar asked him whether he saw any thing in the entrails,
which promised an happy event. "That," said the priest, "you can
best answer yourself; for the gods signify a great alteration from
the present posture of affairs. If, therefore, you think yourself well
off now, expect worse fortune; if unhappy, hope for better." The
night before the battle, as he walked the rounds about midnight,
there was a light seen in the heaven, very bright and flaming, which
seemed to pass over Caesar's camp, and fall into Pompey's. And
when Caesar's soldiers came to relieve the watch in the morning,
they perceived a panic disorder among the enemies. However, he
did not expect to fight that day, but set about raising his camp
with the intention of marching towards Scotussa.

But when the tents were now taken down, his scouts rode up to
him, and told him the enemy would give him battle. With this
news he was extremely pleased, and having performed his devotions
to the gods, set his army in battle array, dividing them into three
bodies. Over the middlemost he placed Domitius Calvinus; An-
tony commanded the left wing, and he himself the right, being
resolved to fight at the head of the tenth legion. But when he saw
the enemy's cavalry taking position against him, being struck with
their fine appearance and their number, he gave private orders that

11 Cornificius.

CJESAS. 301

six cohorts from the rear of the army should come round and join
him, whom he posted behind the right wing, and instructed them
what they should do, when the enemy's horse came to charge. On
the other side, Pompey commanded the right wing, Domitius the
left, and Scipio, Pompey's father-in-law, the centre. The whole
weight of the cavalry was collected on the left wing, with the intent
that they should outflank the right wing of the enemy, and rout
that part where the general himself commanded. For they thought
no phalanx of infantry could be solid enough to sustain such a
shock, but that they must necessarily be broken and shattered all to
pieces upon the onset of so immense a force of cavalry. When they
were ready on both sides to give the signal for battle, Pompey com-
manded his foot who were in the front, to stand their ground, and
without breaking their order, receive quietly the enemy's first at-
tack, till they came within javelin's cast. Cxsar, in this respect, also,
blames Pompey's generalship, as if he had not been aware how the
first encounter, when made with an impetus and upon the run,
gives weight and force to the strokes, and fires the men's spirits into
a flame, which the general concurrence fans to full heat. He himself
was just putting the troops into motion and advancing to the action,
when he found one of his captains, a trusty and experienced soldier,
encouraging his men to exert their utmost. Caesar called him by
his name, and said, "What hopes, Caius Crassinius, and what
grounds for encouragement?" Crassinius stretched out his hand,
and cried in a loud voice, "We shall conquer nobly, Caesar; and I
this day will deserve your praises, either alive or dead." So he said,
and was the first man to run in upon the enemy, followed by the
hundred and twenty soldiers about him, and breaking through the
first rank, still pressed on forwards with much slaughter of the
enemy, till at last he was struck back by the wound of a sword,
which went in at his mouth with such force that it came out at his
neck behind.

Whilst the foot was thus sharply engaged in the main battle, on
the flank Pompey's horse rode up confidently, and opened their
ranks very wide, that they might surround the right wing of Caesar.
But before they engaged, Caesar's cohorts rushed out and attacked
them, and did not dart their javelins at a distance, nor strike

302 PLUTARCH S LIVES

at the thighs and legs, as they usually did in close battle, but aimed
at their faces. For thus Caesar had instructed them, in hopes that
young gentlemen, who had not known much of battles and wounds,
but came wearing their hair long, in the flower of their age and
height of their beauty, would be more apprehensive of such blows,
and not care for hazarding both a danger at present and a blemish
for the future. And so it proved, for they were so far from bearing
the stroke of the javelins, that they could not stand the sight of
them, but turned about, and covered their faces to secure them.
Once in disorder, presently they turned about to fly; and so most
shamefully ruined all. For those who had beat them back, at once
outflanked the infantry, and falling on their rear, cut them to pieces.
Pompey, who commanded the other wing of the army, when he
saw his cavalry thus broken and flying, was no longer himself, nor
did he now remember that he was Pompey the Great, but like one
whom some god had deprived of his senses, retired to his tent
without speaking a word, and there sat to expect the event, till the
whole army was routed, and the enemy appeared upon the works
which were thrown up before the camp, where they closely engaged
with his men, who were posted there to defend it. Then first he
seemed to have recovered his senses, and uttering, it is said, only
these words, "What, into the camp too?" he laid aside his general's
habit, and putting on such clothes as might best favor his flight,
stole off. What fortune he met with afterwards, how he took shelter
in Egypt, and was murdered there, we tell you in his Life.

Carsar, when he came to view Pompey 's camp, and saw some of
his opponents dead upon the ground, others dying, said, with a
groan, "This they would have; they brought me to this necessity.
I, Caius Carsar, after succeeding in so many wars, had been con-
demned, had I dismissed my army." 12 These words, Pollio says,
Carsar spoke in Latin at that time, and that he himself wrote them
in Greek; adding, that those who were killed at the taking of the
camp, were most of them servants; and that not above six thousand
soldiers fell. Carsar incorporated most of the foot whom he took
prisoners, with his own legions, and gave a free pardon to many

" "Hoc volucrunt; tantis rebus jjcstis C. Cxsar condom natus cssem, nisi ab exercltu
auxilium petissem," quoted from Asinius Pollio, by Suetonius.

CESAR 303

of the distinguished persons, and amongst the rest, to Brutus, who
afterwards killed him. He did not immediately appear after the
battle was over, which put Caesar, it is said, into great anxiety for
him; nor was his pleasure less when he saw him present himself
alive.

There were many prodigies that foreshowed this victory, but the
most remarkable that we are told of, was that at Tralles. In the
temple of Victory stood Carsar's statue. The ground on which it
stood was naturally hard and solid, and the stone with which it
was paved still harder; yet it is said that a palm-tree shot itself up
near the pedestal of this statue. In the city of Padua, one Caius
Cornelius, who had the character of a good augur, the fellow-
citizen and acquaintance of Livy, the historian, happened to be
making some augural observations that very day when the battle
was fought. And first, as Livy tells us, he pointed out the time of
the fight, and said to those who were by him, that just then the
battle was begun, and the men engaged. When he looked a second
time, and observed the omens, he leaped up as if he had been in-
spired, and cried out, "Ca?sar, you are victorious." This much sur-
prised the standers by, but he took the garland which he had on
from his head, and swore he would never wear it again till the
event should give authority to his art. This Livy positively states
for a truth.

Carsar, as a memorial of his victory, gave the Thessalians their
freedom, and then went in pursuit of Pompey. When he was come
into Asia, to gratify Theopompus, the author of the collection of
fables, he enfranchised the Cnidians, and remitted one third of their
tribute to all the people of the province of Asia. When he came to
Alexandria, where Pompey was already murdered, he would look
upon Theodotus, who presented him with his head, but taking only
his signet, shed tears. Those of Pompey's friends who had been
arrested by the king of Egypt, as they were wandering in those parts,
he relieved, and offered them his own friendship. In his letter to
his friends at Rome, he told them that the greatest and most signal
pleasure his victory had given him, was to be able continually to
save the lives of fellow-citizens who had fought against him. As to
the war in Egypt, some say it was at once dangerous and dishonor-

304 PLUTARCH S LIVES

able, and noways necessary, but occasioned only by his passion for
Cleopatra. Others blame the ministers of the king, and especially
the eunuch Pothinus, who was the chief favorite, and had lately
killed Pompey, who had banished Cleopatra, and was now secretly
plotting Caesar's destruction, (to prevent which, Caesar from that
time began to sit up whole nights, under pretence of drinking, for
the security of his person), while openly he was intolerable in his
affronts to Caesar, both by his words and actions. For when Caesar's
soldiers had musty and unwholesome corn measured out to them,
Pothinus told them they must be content with it, since they were
fed at another's cost. He ordered that his table should be served
with wooden and earthen dishes, and said Caesar had carried off
all the gold and silver plate, under pretence of arrears of debt. For
the present king's father owed Caesar one thousand seven hundred
and fifty myriads of money; Caesar had formerly remitted to his
children the rest, but thought fit to demand the thousand myriads
at that time, to maintain his army. Pothinus told him that he had
better go now and attend to his other affairs of greater conse-
quence, and that he should receive his money at another time with
thanks. Caesar replied that he did not want Egyptians to be his
counsellors, and soon after privately sent for Cleopatra from her
retirement.

She took a small boat, and one only of her confidents, Apollo-
dorus, the Sicilian, along with her, and in the dusk of the evening
landed near the palace. She was at a loss how to get in undiscov-
ered, till she thought of putting herself into the coverlet of a bed
and lying at length, whilst Apollodorus tied up the bedding and
carried it on his back through the gates to Caesar's apartment. Cae-
sar was first captivated by this proof of Cleopatra's bold wit, and
was afterwards so overcome by the charm of her society, that he
made a reconciliation between her and her brother, on condition
that she should rule as his colleague in the kingdom. A festival was
kept to celebrate this reconciliation, where Caesar's barber, a busy,
listening fellow, whose excessive timidity made him inquisitive into
every thing, discovered that there was a plot carrying on against
Caesar by Achillas, general of the king's forces, and Pothinus, the
eunuch. Caesar, upon the first intelligence of it, set a guard upon

C^SAR 305

the hall where the feast was kept, and killed Pothinus. Achillas
escaped to the army, and raised a troublesome and embarrassing war
against Ca?sar, which it was not easy for him to manage with his
few soldiers against so powerful a city and so large an army. The
first difficulty he met with was want of water, for the enemies had
turned the canals." Another was, when the enemy endeavored to
cut off his communication by sea, he was forced to divert that dan-
ger by setting fire to his own ships, which, after burning the docks,
thence spread on and destroyed the great library. A third was, when
in an engagement near Pharos, he leaped from the mole into a small
boat, to assist his soldiers who were in danger, and when the Egyp-
tians pressed him on every side, he threw himself into the sea, and
with much difficulty swam off. This was the time when, according
to the story, he had a number of manuscripts in his hand, which,
though he was continually darted at, and forced to keep his head
often under water, yet he did not let go, but held them up safe
from wetting in one hand, whilst he swam with the other. His
boat, in the mean time, was quickly sunk. At last, the king having
gone off to Achillas and his party, Ca:sar engaged and conquered
them. Many fell in that battle, and the king himself was never
seen after. Upon this, he left Cleopatra queen of Egypt, who soon
after had a son by him, whom the Alexandrians called Carsarion,
and then departed for Syria.

Thence he passed to Asia, where he heard that Domitius was
beaten by Pharnaces, son of Mithridates, and had fled out of Pontus
with a handful of men; and that Pharnaces pursued the victory
so eagerly, that though he was already master of Bithynia and
Cappadocia, he had a further design of attempting the Lesser Ar-
menia, and was inviting all the kings and tetrarchs there to rise.
Ca*sar immediately marched against him with three legions, fought
him near Zela, drove him out of Pontus, and totally defeated his
army. When he gave Amantius, a friend of his at Rome, an account
of this action, to express the promptness and rapidity of it, he used
three words, I came, saw, and conquered, which in Latin 14 having

" By which Alexandria, there being no springs, was wholly supplied.

14 Vcni, Vidi, Vici. A tablet with this inscription was displayed in the triumph which
was afterwards celebrated for this war. Amantius does not seem to be a true Roman
name. It has been corrected into Caius Matius, a well-known friend of Cisar's.

306 plutarch's lives

all the same cadence, carry with them a very suitable air of brevity.

Hence he crossed into Italy, and come to Rome at the end of that
year, for which he had been a second time chosen dictator, though
that office had never before lasted a whole year, and was elected
consul for the next. He was ill spoken of, because upon a mutiny of
some soldiers, who killed Cosconius and Galba, who had been
praetors, he gave them only the slight reprimand of calling them
Citizens, instead of Fellow-Soldiers, and afterwards assigned to each
man a thousand drachmas, besides a share of lands in Italy. He
was also reflected on for Dolabella's extravagance, Amantius's cov-
etousness, Antony's debauchery, and Corfinius's profuseness, who
pulled down Pompey's house, and rebuilt it, as not magnificent
enough; for the Romans were much displeased with all these. But
Caesar, for the prosecution of his own scheme of government,
though he knew their characters and disapproved them, was forced
to make use of those who would serve him.

After the battle of Pharsalia, Cato and Scipio fled into Africa,
and there, with the assistance of king Juba, got together a con-
siderable force, which Cisar resolved to engage. He, accordingly,
passed into Sicily about the winter-solstice, and to remove from his
officers' minds all hopes of delay there, encamped by the sea-shore,
and as soon as ever he had a fair wind, put to sea with three thou-
sand foot and a few horse. When he had landed them, he went back
secretly, under some apprehensions for the larger part of his army,
but met them upon the sea, and brought them all to the same
camp. There he was informed that the enemies relied much upon an
ancient oracle, that the family of the Scipios should be always vic-
torious in Africa. There was in his army a man, otherwise mean and
contemptible, but of the house of the Africani, and his name Scipio
Sallutio. This man Caesar, (whether in raillery, to ridicule Scipio,
who commanded the enemy, or seriously to bring over the omen to
his side, it were hard to say), put at the head of his troops, as if he
were general, in all the frequent battles which he was compelled to
fight. For he was in such want both of victualling for his men,
and forage for his horses, that he was forced to feed the horses
with sea-weed, which he washed thoroughly to take off its saltness,
and mixed with a little grass, to give it a more agreeable taste. The

CESAR 307

Numidians, in great numbers, and well horsed, whenever he went,
came up and commanded the country. Cscsar's cavalry being one
day unemployed, diverted themselves with seeing an African, who
entertained them with dancing and at the same time playing upon
the pipe to admiration. They were so taken with this, that they
alighted, and gave their horses to some boys, when on a sudden the
enemy surrounded them, killed some, pursued the rest, and fell in
with them into their camp; and had not Caesar himself and Asinius
Pollio come to their assistance, and put a stop to their flight, the
war had been then at an end. In another engagement, also, the
enemy had again the better, when Caesar, it is said, seized a standard-
bearer, who was running away, by the neck, and forcing him to face
about, said, "Look, that is the way to the enemy."

Scipio, flushed with this success at first, had a mind to come to
one decisive action. He therefore left Afranius and Juba in two dis-
tinct bodies not far distant, and marched himself towards Thapsus,
where he proceeded to build a fortified camp above a lake, to serve
as a centre-point for their operations, and also as a place of refuge.
Whilst Scipio was thus employed, Cxsar with incredible despatch
made his way through thick woods, and a country supposed to be
impassable, cut off one party of the enemy, and attacked another in
the front. Having routed these, he followed up his opportunity and
the current of his good fortune, and on the first onset carried
Afranius's camp, and ravaged that of the Numidians, Juba, their
king, being glad to save himself by flight; so that in a small part of
a single day he made himself master of three camps, and killed fifty
thousand of the enemy, with the loss only of fifty of his own men.
This is the account some give of that fight. Others say, he was not
in the action, but that he was taken with his usual distemper just
as he was setting his army in order. He perceived the approaches of
it, and before it had too far disordered his senses, when he was
already beginning to shake under its influence, withdrew into a
neighboring fort, where he reposed himself. Of the men of consular
and prartorian dignity that were taken after the fight, several Caesar
put to death, others anticipated him by killing themselves.

Cato had undertaken to defend Utica, and for that reason was
not in the batde. The desire which Caesar had to take him alive,

308 plutarch's lives

made him hasten thither; and upon the intelligence that he had
despatched himself, he was much discomposed, for what reason is
not so well agreed. He certainly said, "Cato, I must grudge you your
death, as you grudged me the honor of saving your life." Yet the
discourse he wrote against Cato after his death, is no great sign of
his kindness, or that he was inclined to be reconciled to him. For
how is it probable that he would have been tender of his life, when
he was so bitter against his memory? But from his clemency to
Cicero, Brutus, and many others who fought against him, it may be
divined that Caesar's book was not written so much out of animosity
to Cato, as in his own vindication. Cicero had written an encomium
upon Cato, and called it by his name. A composition by so great a
master upon so excellent a subject, was sure to be in every one's
hands. This touched Carsar, who looked upon a panegyric on his
enemy, as no better than an invective against himself; and therefore
he made in his Anti-Cato, a collection of whatever could be said in
his derogation. The two compositions, like Cato and Caesar them-
selves, have each of them their several admirers.

Caesar, upon his return to Rome, did not omit to pronounce before
the people a magnificent account of his victory, telling them that
he had subdued a country which would supply the public every
year with two hundred thousand attic bushels of corn, and three
million pounds weight of oil. He then led three triumphs for Egypt,
Pontus, and Africa, the last for the victory over, not Scipio, but king
Juba, as it was professed, whose little son was then carried in the tri-
umph, the happiest captive that ever was, who of a barbarian Nu-
midian, came by this means to obtain a place among the most
learned historians of Greece. After the triumphs, he distributed re-
wards to his soldiers, and treated the people with feasting and shows.
He entertained the whole people together at one feast, where twenty-
two thousand dining couches were laid out; and he made a display
of gladiators, and of battles by sea, in honor, as he said, of his
daughter Julia, though she had been long since dead. When these
shows were over, an account was taken of the people, who, from
three hundred and twenty thousand, were now reduced to one hun-
dred and fifty thousand. So great a waste had the civil war made in

CESAR 309

Rome alone, not to mention what the other parts of Italy and the
provinces suffered.

He was now chosen a fourth time consul, and went into Spain
against Pompey's sons. They were but young, yet had gathered to-
gether a very numerous army, and showed they had courage and
conduct to command it, so that Caesar was in extreme danger. The
great battle was near the town of Munda, in which Caesar seeing his
men hard pressed, and making but a weak resistance, ran through
the ranks among the soldiers, and crying out, asked them whether
they were not ashamed to deliver him into the hands of boys?
At last, with great difficulty, and the best efforts he could make, he
forced back the enemy, killing thirty thousand of them, though with
the loss of one thousand of his best men. When he came back from
the fight, he told his friends that he had often fought for victory,
but this was the first time that he had ever fought for life. This
battle was won on the feast of Bacchus, the very day in which
Pompey, four years before, had set out for the war. The younger
of Pompey's sons escaped; but Didius, some days after the fight,
brought the head of the elder to Carsar. This was the last war he
was engaged in. The triumph which he celebrated for this victory,
displeased the Romans beyond any thing. For he had not defeated
foreign generals, or barbarian kings, but had destroyed the chil-
dren and family of one of the greatest men of Rome, though un-
fortunate; and it did not look well to lead a procession in celebration
of the calamities of his country, and to rejoice in those things for
which no other apology could be made either to gods or men, than
their being absolutely necessary. Besides that, hitherto he had never
sent letters or messengers to announce any victory over his fellow-
citizens, but had seemed rather to be ashamed of the action, than
to expect honor from it.

Nevertheless his countrymen, conceding all to his fortune, and
accepting the bit, in the hope that the government of a single per-
son would give them time to breathe after so many civil wars and
calamities, made him dictator for life. This was indeed a tyranny
avowed, since his power now was not only absolute, but perpetual
too. Cicero made the first proposals to the senate for conferring

310 PLUTARCH'S LIVES

honors upon him, which might in some sort be said not to exceed the
limits of ordinary human moderation. But others, striving which
should deserve most, carried them so excessively high, that they
made Caesar odious to the most indifferent and moderate sort of
men, by the pretension and the extravagance of the titles which
they decreed him. His enemies, too, are thought to have had some
share in this, as well as his flatterers. It gave them advantage against
him, and would be their justification for any attempt they should
make upon him; for since the civil wars were ended, he had nothing
else that he could be charged with. And they had good reason to
decree a temple to Clemency, in token of their thanks for the mild
use he made of his victory. For he not only pardoned many of those
who fought against him, but, further, to some gave honors and
offices; as particularly to Brutus and Cassius, who both of them
were praetors. Pompey's images that were thrown down, he set up
again, upon which Cicero also said that by raising Pompey's statues
he had fixed his own. When his friends advised him to have a guard,
and several offered their service, he would not hear of it; but said
it was better to suffer death once, than always to live in fear of it. He
looked upon the affections of the people to be the best and surest
guard, and entertained them again with public feasting, and general
distributions of corn; and to gratify his army, he sent out colonies
to several places, of which the most remarkable were Carthage and
Corinth; which as before they had been ruined at the same time, so
now were restored and repeopled together.

As for the men of high rank, he promised to some of them future
consulships and praetorships, some he consoled with other offices and
honors, and to all held out hopes of favor by the solicitude he showed
to rule with the general goodwill; insomuch that upon the death
of Maximus one day before his consulship was ended, he made
Caninius Revilius consul for that day. And when many went to
pay the usual compliments and attentions to the new consul, "Let
us make haste," said Cicero, "lest the man be gone out of his office
before we come."

Caesar was born to do great things, and had a passion after honor,
and the many noble exploits he had done did not now serve as an
inducement to him to sit still and reap the fruit of his past labors,

CESAR 311

but were incentives and encouragements to go on, and raised in him
ideas of still greater actions, and a desire of new glory, as if the
present were all spent. It was in fact a sort of emulous struggle with
himself, as it had been with another, how he might outdo his past
actions by his future. In pursuit of these thoughts, he resolved to
make war upon the Parthians, and when he had subdued them, to
pass through Hyrcania; thence to march along by the Caspian Sea to
Mount Caucasus, and so on about Pontus, till he came into Scythia;
then to overrun all the countries bordering upon Germany, and
Germany itself; and so to return through Gaul into Italy, after
completing the whole circle of his intended empire, and bounding it
on every side by the ocean. While preparations were making for
this expedition, he proposed to dig through the isthmus on which
Corinth stands; and appointed Anienus to superintend the work.
He had also a design of diverting the Tiber, and carrying it by a
deep channel directly from Rome to Circeii, and so into the sea near
Tarracina, that there might be a safe and easy passage for all mer-
chants who traded to Rome. Besides this, he intended to drain all the
marshes by Pomentium and Setia, and gain ground enough from
the water to employ many thousands of men in tillage. He pro-
posed further to make great mounds on the shore nearest Rome, to
hinder the sea from breaking in upon the land, to clear the coast
at Ostia of all the hidden rocks and shoals that made it unsafe for
shipping, and to form ports and harbors fit to receive the large
number of vessels that would frequent them.

These things were designed without being carried into effect;
but his reformation of the calendar, in order to rectify the irregu-
larity of time, was not only projected with great scientific ingenuity,
but was brought to its completion, and proved of very great use.
For it was not only in ancient times that the Romans had wanted a
certain rule to make the revolutions of their months fall in with the
course of the year, so that their festivals and solemn days for sacri-
fice were removed by little and little, till at last they came to be kept
at seasons quite the contrary to what was at first intended, but even
at this time the people had no way of computing the solar year;
only the priests could say the time, and they, at their pleasure, with-
out giving any notice, slipped in the intercalary month, which they

312 plutarch's lives

called Mercedonius. Numa was the first who put in this month, but
his expedient was but a poor one and quite inadequate to correct all
the errors that arose in the returns of the annual cycles, as we have
shown in his Life. Caesar called in the best philosophers and mathe-
maticians of his time to settle the point, and out of the systems he
had before him, formed a new and more exact method of correcting
the calendar, which the Romans use to this day, and seem to suc-
ceed better than any nation in avoiding the errors occasioned by
the inequality of the cycles. Yet even this gave offence to those
who looked with an evil eye on his position, and felt oppressed
by his power. Cicero, the orator, when some one in his company
chanced to say, the next morning Lyra would rise, replied, "Yes,
in accordance with the edict," as if even this were a matter of com-
pulsion.

But that which brought upon him the most apparent and mortal
hatred, was his desire of being king; which gave the common people
the first occasion to quarrel with him, and proved the most specious
pretence to those who had been his secret enemies all along. Those,
who would have procured him that title, gave it out, that it was
foretold in the Sybils' books that the Romans should conquer the
Parthians when they fought against them under the conduct of a
king, but not before. And one day, as Caesar was coming down from
Alba to Rome, some were so bold as to salute him by the name of
king; but he finding the people disrelish it, seemed to resent it
himself, and said his name was Caesar, not king. Upon this, there
was a general silence, and he passed on looking not very well
pleased or contented. Another time, when the senate had conferred
on him some extravagant honors, he chanced to receive the message
as he was sitting on the rostra, where, though the consuls and praetors
themselves waited on him, attended by the whole body of the senate,
he did not rise, but behaved himself to them as if they had been
private men, and told them his honors wanted rather to be re-
trenched than increased. This treatment offended not only the
senate, but the commonalty, too, as if they thought the affront upon
the senate equally reflected upon the whole republic; so that all who
could decently leave him went off, looking much discomposed.
Caesar, perceiving the false step he had made, immediately retired

CESAR 313

home; and laying his throat bare, told his friends that he was ready
to offer this to any one who would give the stroke. But afterwards
he made the malady from which he suffered, the excuse for his
sitting, saying that those who are attacked by it, lose their presence
of mind, if they talk much standing; that they presently grow giddy,
fall into convulsions, and quite lose their reason. But this was not
the reality, for he would willingly have stood up to the senate, had
not Cornelius Balbus, one of his friends, or rather flatterers, hin-
dered him. "Will you not remember," said he, "you are Caesar,
and claim the honor which is due to your merit?"

He gave a fresh occasion of resentment by his affront to the trib-
unes. The Lupercalia were then celebrated, a feast at the first insti-
tution belonging, as some writers say, to the shepherds, and having
some connection with the Arcadian Lycaea. Many young noblemen
and magistrates run up and down the city with their upper gar-
ments off, striking all they meet with thongs of hide, by way of
sport; and many women, even of the highest rank, place themselves
in the way, and hold out their hands to the lash, as boys in a school
do to the master, out of a belief that it procures an easy labor to
those who are with child, and makes those conceive who are bar-
ren. Caesar, dressed in a triumphal robe, seated himself in a golden
chair at the rostra, to view this ceremony. Antony, as consul, was
one of those who ran this course, and when he came into the forum,
and the people made way for him, he went up and reached to Caesar
a diadem wreathed with laurel. Upon this, there was a shout, but
only a slight one, made by the few who were planted there for that
purpose; but when Caesar refused it, there was universal applause.
Upon the second offer, very few, and upon the second refusal, all
again applauded. Caesar finding it would not take, rose up, and
ordered the crown to be carried into the capitol. Caesar's statues
were afterwards found with royal diadems on their heads. Flavius
and Marullus, two tribunes of the people, went presently and pulled
them off, and having apprehended those who first saluted Caesar
as king, committed them to prison. The people followed them with
acclamations, and called them by the name of Brutus, because Bru-
tus was the first who ended the succession of kings, and transferred
the power which before was lodged in one man into the hands of

314 plutarch's lives

the senate and people. Ca-sar so far resented this, that he displaced
Marullus and Flavius; and in urging his charges against them, at
the same time ridiculed the people, by himself giving the men more
than once the names of Bruti, and Cumsei. 15

This made the multitude turn their thoughts to Marcus Brutus,
who, by his father's side, was thought to be descended from that
first Brutus, and by his mother's side from the Servilii, another
noble family, being besides nephew and son-in-law to Cato. But the
honors and favors he had received from Carsar, took off the edge
from the desires he might himself have felt for overthrowing the
new monarchy. For he had not only been pardoned himself after
Pompey's defeat at Pharsalia, and had procured the same grace for
many of his friends, but was one in whom Carsar had a particular
confidence. He had at that time the most honorable prartorship of
the year, and was named for the consulship four years after, being
preferred before Cassius, his competitor. Upon the question as to
the choice, Caesar, it is related, said that Cassius had the fairer pre-
tensions, but that he could not pass by Brutus. Nor would he after-
wards listen to some who spoke against Brutus, when the conspir-
acy against him was already afoot, but laying his hand on his body,
said to the informers, "Brutus will wait for this skin of mine," inti-
mating that he was worthy to bear rule on account of his virtue,
but would not be base and ungrateful to gain it. Those who desired
a change, and looked on him as the only, or at least the most proper,
person to effect it, did not venture to speak with him; but in the
night-time laid papers about his chair of state, where he used to sit
and determine causes, with such sentences in them as, "You are
asleep, Brutus," "You are no longer Brutus." Cassius, when he per-
ceived his ambition a little raised upon this, was more instant than
before to work him yet further, having himself a private grudge
against Caesar, for some reasons that we have mentioned in the Life
of Brutus. Nor was Carsar without suspicions of him, and said
once to his friends, "What do you think Cassius is aiming at? I
don't like him, he looks so pale." And when it was told him that
Antony and Dolabella were in a plot against him, he said he did not

15 Brutus, in Latin, means heavy, stupid; and the Cumzans were for one reason or
other proverbial for dulncss.

CiESAR 315

fear such fat, luxurious men, but rather the pale, lean fellows, mean-
ing Cassius and Brutus.

Fate, however, is to all appearances more unavoidable than unex-
pected. For many strange prodigies and apparitions are said to have
been observed shortly before the event. As to the lights in the heav-
ens, the noises heard in the night, and the wild birds which perched
in the forum, these are not perhaps worth taking notice of in so
great a case as this. Strabo, the philosopher, tells us that a number
of men were seen, looking as if they were heated through with fire,
contending with each other; that a quantity of flame issued from
the hand of a soldier's servant, so that they who saw it thought he
must be burnt, but that after all he had no hurt. As Caesar was sacri-
ficing, the victim's heart was missing, a very bad omen, because
no living creature can subsist without a heart. One finds it also
related by many, that a soothsayer bade him prepare for some great
danger on the ides of March. When the day was come, Caesar, as
he went to the senate, met this soothsayer, and said to him by way
of raillery, "The ides of March are come;" who answered him
calmly, "Yes, they are come, but they are not past." The day before
this assassination, he supped with Marcus Lepidus; and as he was
signing some letters, according to his custom, as he reclined at
table, there arose a question what sort of death was the best. At
which he immediately, before any one could speak, said, "A sudden
one."

After this, as he was in bed with his wife, all the doors and
windows of the house flew open together; he was starded at the
noise, and the light which broke into the room, and sat up in his
bed, where by the moonshine he perceived Calpurnia fast asleep,
but heard her utter in her dream some indistinct words and in-
articulate groans. She fancied at that time she was weeping over
Carsar, and holding him butchered in her arms. Others say this
was not her dream, but that she dreamed that a pinnacle which the
senate, as Livy relates, had ordered to be raised on Caesar's house by
way of ornament and grandeur, was tumbling down, which was the
occasion of her tears and ejaculations. When it was day, she begged
of Caesar, if it were possible, not to stir out, but to adjourn the sen-
ate to another time; and if he slighted her dreams, that he would

316 plutarch's lives

be pleased to consult his fate by sacrifices, and other kinds of divina-
tion. Nor was he himself without some suspicion and fears; for he
never before discovered any womanish superstition in Calpurnia,
whom he now saw in such great alarm. Upon the report which the
priests made to him, that they had killed several sacrifices, and
still found them inauspicious, he resolved to send Antony to dis-
miss the senate.

In this juncture, Decimus Brutus, surnamed Albinus, one whom
Caesar had such confidence in that he made him his second heir,
who nevertheless was engaged in the conspiracy with the other
Brutus and Cassius, fearing lest if Caesar should put off the senate
to another day, the business might get wind, spoke scoffingly and in
mockery of the diviners, and blamed Caesar for giving the senate so
fair an occasion of saying he had put a slight upon them, for that
they were met upon his summons, and were ready to vote unani-
mously, that he should be declared king of all the provinces out of
Italy, and might wear a diadem in any other place but Italy, by
sea or land. If any one should be sent to tell them they might break
up for the present, and meet again when Calpurnia should chance
to have better dreams, what would his enemies say? Or who would
with any patience hear his friends, if they should presume to defend
his government as not arbitrary and tyrannical? But if he was pos-
sessed so far as to think this day unfortunate, yet it were more decent
to go himself to the senate, and to adjourn it in his own person.
Brutus, as he spoke these words, took Caesar by the hand, and con-
ducted him forth. He was not gone far from the door, when a
servant of some other person's made towards him, but not being able
to come up to him, on account of the crowd of those who pressed
about him, he made his way into the house, and committed him-
self to Calpurnia, begging of her to secure him till Caesar returned,
because he had matters of great importance to communicate to him.

Artemidorus, a Cnidian, a teacher of Greek logic, and by that
means so far acquainted with Brutus and his friends as to have got
into the secret, brought Caesar in a small written memorial, the heads
of what he had to depose. He had observed that Caesar, as he re-
ceived any papers, presently gave them to the servants who attended
on him; and therefore came as near to him as he could, and said,

CESAR 317

"Read this, Caesar, alone, and quickly, for it contains matter of great
importance which nearly concerns you." Caesar received it, and tried
several times to read it, but was still hindered by the crowd of
those who came to speak to him. However, he kept it in his hand
by itself till he came into the senate. Some say it was another who
gave Caesar this note, and that Artemidorus could not get to him,
being all along kept off by the crowd.

All these things might happen by chance. But the place which
was destined for the scene of this murder, in which the senate met
that day, was the same in which Pompey's statue stood and was one
of the edifices which Pompey had raised and dedicated with his
theatre to the use of the public, plainly showing that there was
something of a supernatural influence which guided the action, and
ordered it to that particular place. Cassius, just before the act, is
said to have looked towards Pompey's statue, and silently implored
his assistance, though he had been inclined to the doctrines of
Epicurus. But this occasion and the instant danger, carried him
away out of all his reasonings, and filled him for the time with a
sort of inspiration. As for Antony, who was firm to Caesar, and a
strong man, Brutus Albinus kept him outside the house, and delayed
him with a long conversation contrived on purpose. When Caesar
entered, the senate stood up to show their respect to him, and of
Brutus's confederates, some came about his chair and stood behind
it, others met him, pretending to add their petitions to those of
Tillius Cimber, in behalf of his brother, who was in exile; and they
followed him with their joint supplications till he came to his seat.
When he was sat down, he refused to comply with their requests,
and upon their urging him further, began to reproach them sev-
erally for their importunities, when Tillius, laying hold of his robe
with both his hands, pulled it down from his neck, which was the sig-
nal for the assault. Casca gave him the first cut, in the neck, which
was not mortal nor dangerous, as coming from one who at the
beginning of such a bold action was probably very much disturbed.
Caesar immediately turned about, and laid his hand upon the dag-
ger and kept hold of it. And both of them at the same time cried
out, he that received the blow, in Latin, "Vile Casca, what does
this mean?" and he that gave it, in Greek, to his brother, "Brother,

318 plutarch's lives

help!" Upon this first onset, those who were not privy to the design
were astonished, and their horror and amazement at what they saw
were so great, that they durst not fly nor assist Cxsar, nor so much
as speak a word. But those who came prepared for the business in-
closed him on every side, with their naked daggers in their hands.
Which way soever he turned, he met with blows, and saw their
swords levelled at his face and eyes, and was encompassed, like a
wild beast in the toils, on every side. For it had been agreed they
should each of them make a thrust at him, and flesh themselves with
his blood; for which reason Brutus also gave him one stab in the
groin. Some say that he fought and resisted all the rest, shifting
his body to avoid the blows, and calling out for help, but that when
he saw Brutus's sword drawn, he covered his face with his robe
and submitted, letting himself fall, whether it were by chance, or
that he was pushed in that direction by his murderers, at the foot
of the pedestal on which Pompey's statue stood, and which was thus
wetted with his blood. So that Pompey himself seemed to have pre-
sided, as it were, over the revenge done upon his adversary, who lay
here at his feet, and breathed out his soul through his multitude of
wounds, for they say he received three and twenty. And the con-
spirators themselves were many of them wounded by each other,
whilst they all levelled their blows at the same person.

When Caesar was dispatched, Brutus stood forth to give a reason
for what they had done, but the senate would not hear him, but
flew out of doors in all haste, and filled the people with so much
alarm and distraction that some shut up their houses, others left
their counters and shops. All ran one way or the other, some to
the place to see the sad spectacle, others back again after they had
seen it. Antony and Lepidus, Caesar's most faithful friends, got off
privately, and hid themselves in some friends' houses. Brutus and
his followers, being yet hot from the deed, marched in a body
from the senate-house to the capitol with their drawn swords, not
like persons who thought of escaping, but with an air of confidence
and assurance, and as they went along, called to the people to resume
their liberty, and invited the company of any more distinguished
people whom they met. And some of these joined the procession
and went up along with them, as if they also had been of the con-

CESAR 319

spiracy, and could claim a share in the honor of what had been done.
As, for example, Caius Octavius and Lentulus Spinther, who suf-
fered afterwards for their vanity, being taken off by Antony and the
young Caesar, and lost the honor they desired, as well as their lives,
which it cost them, since no one believed they had any share in the
action. For neither did those who punished them profess to revenge
the fact, but the ill-will. The day after, Brutus with the rest came
down from the capitol, and made a speech to the people, who
listened without expressing either any pleasure or resentment, but
showed by their silence that they pitied Cxsar, and respected Brutus.
The senate passed acts of oblivion for what was past, and took
measures to reconcile all parties. They ordered that Carsar should
be worshipped as a divinity, and nothing, even of the slightest con-
sequence, should be revoked, which he had enacted during his gov-
ernment. At the same time they gave Brutus and his followers the
command of provinces, and other considerable posts. So that all
people now thought things were well settled, and brought to the
happiest adjustment.

But when Caesar's will was opened, and it was found that he had
left a considerable legacy to each one of the Roman citizens, and
when his body was seen carried through the market-place all man-
gled with wounds, the multitude could no longer contain themselves
within the bounds of tranquillity and order, but heaped together a
pile of benches, bars, and tables, which they placed the corpse on,
and setting fire to it, burnt it on them. Then they took brands from
the pile, and ran some to fire the houses of the conspirators, others
up and down the city, to find out the men and tear them to pieces,
but met, however, with none of them, they having taken effectual
care to secure themselves.

One Cinna, a friend of Cisar's, chanced the night before to have
an odd dream. He fancied that Caesar invited him to supper, and
that upon his refusal to go with him, Caesar took him by the hand
and forced him, though he hung back. Upon hearing the report
that Ca?sar's body was burning in the market-place, he got up and
went thither, out of respect to his memory, though his dream gave
him some ill apprehensions, and though he was suffering from a
fever. One of the crowd who saw him there, asked another who that

320 PLUTARCH S LIVES

was, and having learned his name, told it to his next neighbor. It
presently passed for a certainty that he was one of Carsar's murder-
ers, as, indeed, there was another Cinna, a conspirator, and they,
taking this to be the man, immediately seized him, and tore him
limb from limb upon the spot.

Brutus and Cassius, frightened at this, within a few days retired
out of the city. What they afterwards did and suffered, and how
they died, is written in the Life of Brutus. Caesar died in his fifty-
sixth year, not having survived Pompey above four years. That
empire and power which he had pursued through the whole course
of his life with so much hazard, he did at last with much difficulty
compass, but reaped no other fruits from it than the empty name
and invidious glory. But the great genius which attended him
through his lifetime, even after his death remained as the avenger
of his murder, pursuing through every sea and land all those who
were concerned in it, and suffering none to escape, but reaching all
who in any sort or kind were either actually engaged in the fact, or
by their counsels any way promoted it.

The most remarkable of mere human coincidences was that which
befell Cassius, who, when he was defeated at Philippi, killed him-
self with the same dagger which he had made use of against Cxsar.
The most signal preternatural appearances were the great comet,
which shone very bright for seven nights after Carsar's death, and
then disappeared, and the dimness of the sun," whose orb continued
pale and dull for the whole of that year, never showing its ordinary
radiance at its rising, and giving but a weak and feeble heat. The
air consequently was damp and gross, for want of stronger rays to
open and rarify it. The fruits, for that reason, never properly
ripened, and began to wither and fall off for want of heat, before
they were fully formed. But above all, the phantom which appeared
to Brutus showed the murder was not pleasing to the gods. The
story of it is this.

-Solcm quis dicere falsum

Audcat? illc etiam czcos insure tumultus
Sarpe monet, fraudemque ct opcrta tumescere bclla.
Ille etiam exstincto miscratus Cxsarc Romam;
Cum caput obscura nitidum fcrrupne texit,
Impiaque xternam timuerunt szcula noctem.

Virg. Georg. 1. 463.

CAESAR 321

Brutus, being to pass his army from Abydos to the continent on
the other side, laid himself down one night, as he used to do, in his
tent, and was not asleep, but thinking of his affairs, and what events
he might expect. For he is related to have been the least inclined
to sleep of all men who have commanded armies, and to have had
the greatest natural capacity for continuing awake, and employ-
ing himself without need of rest. He thought he heard a noise at
the door of his tent, and looking that way, by the light of his lamp,
which was almost out, saw a terrible figure, like that of a man, but
of unusual stature and severe countenance. He was somewhat
frightened at first, but seeing it neither did nor spoke any thing to
him, only stood silently by his bedside, he asked who it was. The
spectre answered him, "Thy evil genius, Brutus, thou shalt see me
at Philippi." Brutus answered courageously, "Well, I shall see you,"
and immediately the appearance vanished. When the time was
come, he drew up his army near Philippi against Antony and Caesar,
and in the first battle won the day, routed the enemy, and plun-
dered Carsar's camp. The night before the second battle, the same
phantom appeared to him again, but spoke not a word. He pres-
ently understood his destiny was at hand, and exposed himself to
all the danger of the battle. Yet he did not die in the fight, but
seeing his men defeated, got up to the top of a rock, and there
presenting his sword to his naked breast, and assisted, as they say,
by a friend, who helped him to give the thrust, met his death.

ANTONY

THE grandfather of Antony was the famous pleader, whom
Marius put to death for having taken part with Sylla. His
father was Antony, surnamed of Crete, not very famous
or distinguished in public life, but a worthy, good man, and par-
ticularly remarkable for his liberality, as may appear from a single
example. He was not very rich, and was for that reason checked in
the exercise of his good-nature by his wife. A friend that stood in
need of money came to borrow of him. Money he had none, but
he bade a servant bring him water in a silver basin, with which,
when it was brought, he wetted his face, as if he meant to shave;
and, sending away the servant upon another errand, gave his friend
the basin, desiring him to turn it to his purpose. And when there
was, afterwards, a great inquiry for it in the house, and his wife
was in a very ill humor, and was going to put the servants one by
one to the search, he acknowledged what he had done, and begged
her pardon.

His wife was Julia, of the family of the Caesars, who, for her
discretion and fair behavior, was not inferior to any of her time.
Under her, Antony received his education, she being, after the death
of his father, remarried to Cornelius Lentulus, who was put to death
by Cicero for having been of Catiline's conspiracy. This, probably,
was the first ground and occasion of that mortal grudge that An-
tony bore Cicero. He says, even, that the body of Lentulus was
denied burial, till, by application made to Cicero's wife, it was
granted to Julia. But this seems to be a manifest error, for none
of those that suffered in the consulate of Cicero had the right of
burial denied them. Antony grew up a very beautiful youth, but, by
the worst of misfortunes, he fell into the acquaintance and friendship
of Curio, a man abandoned to his pleasures; who, to make Antony's
dependence upon him a matter of greater necessity, plunged him
into a life of drinking and dissipation, and led him through a course

3"

ANTONY 323

of such extravagance, that he ran, at that early age, into debt to
the amount of two hundred and fifty talents. For this sum, Curio
became his surety; on hearing which, the elder Curio, his father,
drove Antony out of his house. After this, for some short time, he
took part with Clodius, the most insolent and outrageous dema-
gogue of the time, in his course of violence and disorder; but,
getting weary, before long, of his madness, and apprehensive of the
powerful party forming against him, he left Italy, and travelled into
Greece, where he spent his time in military exercises and in the study
of eloquence. He took most to what was called the Asiatic taste in
speaking, which was then at its height, and was, in many ways,
suitable to his ostentatious, vaunting temper, full of empty flour-
ishes and unsteady efforts for glory.

After some stay in Greece, he was invited by Gabinius, who had
been consul, to make a campaign with him in Syria, which at first
he refused, not being willing to serve in a private character, but,
receiving a commission to command the horse, he went along with
him. His first service was against Aristobulus, who had prevailed
with the Jews to rebel. Here he was himself the first man to scale
the largest of the works, and beat Aristobulus out of all of them;
after which he routed, in a pitched battle, an army many times over
the number of his, killed almost all of them, and took Aristobulus
and his son prisoners. This war ended, Gabinius was solicited by
Ptolemy to restore him to his kingdom of Egypt, and a promise
made of ten thousand talents reward. Most of the officers were
against this enterprise, and Gabinius himself did not much like it,
though sorely tempted by the ten thousand talents. But Antony,
desirous of brave actions, and willing to please Ptolemy, joined in
persuading Gabinius to go. And whereas all were of opinion that
the most dangerous thing before them was the march to Pelusium,
in which they would have to pass over a deep sand, where no fresh
water was to be hoped for, along the Ecregma and the Serbonian
marsh (which the Egyptians call Typhon's breathing-hole, and
which is, in probability, water left behind by, or making its way
through from, the Red Sea, which is here divided from the Mediter-
ranean by a narrow isthmus), Antony, being ordered thither with
the horse, not only made himself master of the passes, but won

324 PLUTARCH S LIVES

Pelusium itself, a great city, took the garrison prisoners, and, by this
means, rendered the march secure to the army, and the way to vic-
tory not difficult for the general to pursue. The enemy, also, reaped
some benefit of his eagerness for honor. For when Ptolemy, after
he had entered Pelusium, in his rage and spite against the Egyptians,
designed to put them to the sword, Antony withstood him, and
hindered the execution. In all the great and frequent skirmishes and
battles, he gave continual proofs of his personal valor and military
conduct; and once in particular, by wheeling about and attacking
the rear of the enemy, he gave the victory to the assailants in the
front, and received for this service signal marks of distinction. Nor
was his humanity towards the deceased Archelaus less taken notice
of. He had been formerly his guest and acquaintance, and, as he
was now compelled, he fought him bravely while alive, but, on his
death, sought out his body and buried it with royal honors. The
consequence was that he left behind him a great name among the
Alexandrians, and all who were serving in the Roman army looked
upon him as a most gallant soldier.

He had also a very good and noble appearance; his beard was
well grown, his forehead large, and his nose aquiline, giving him al-
together a bold, masculine look, that reminded people of the faces
of Hercules in paintings and sculptures. It was, moreover, an ancient
tradition, that the Antonys were descended from Hercules, by a son
of his called Anton; and this opinion he thought to give credit to,
by the similarity of his person just mentioned, and also by the
fashion of his dress. For, whenever he had to appear before large
numbers, he wore his tunic girt low about the hips, a broadsword on
his side, and over all a large, coarse mantle. What might seem to
some very insupportable, his vaunting, his raillery, his drinking in
public, sitting down by the men as they were taking their food,
and eating, as he stood, off the common soldiers' tables, made him
the delight and pleasure of the army. In love affairs, also, he was
very agreeable; he gained many friends by the assistance he gave
them in theirs, and took other people's raillery upon his own with
good-humor. And his generous ways, his open and lavish hand in
gifts and favors to his friends and fellow-soldiers, did a great deal
for him in his first advance to power, and, after he had become

ANTONY 325

great, long maintained his fortunes, when a thousand follies were
hastening their overthrow. One instance of his liberality I must re-
late. He had ordered payment to one of his friends of twenty-five
myriads of money, or decies, as the Romans call it, and his steward,
wondering at the extravagance of the sum, laid all the silver in a
heap, as he should pass by. Antony, seeing the heap, asked what it
meant; his steward replied, "The money you have ordered to be
given to your friend." So, perceiving the man's malice, said he,
"I thought the decies had been much more; 't is too little; let it be
doubled." This, however, was at a later time.

When the Roman state finally broke up into two hostile factions,
the aristocratical party joining Pompey, who was in the city, and
the popular side seeking help from Caesar, who was at the head of
an army in Gaul, Curio, the friend of Antony, having changed his
party and devoted himself to Cxsar, brought over Antony also to
his service. And the influence which he gained with the people by his
eloquence and by the money which was supplied by Caesar enabled
him to make Antony, first, tribune of the people, and then, augur.
And Antony's accession to office was at once of the greatest advan-
tage to Caesar. In the first place, he resisted the consul Marcellus,
who was putting under Pompey's orders the troops who were already
collected, and was giving him power to raise new levies; he, on the
other hand, making an order that they should be sent into Syria
to reinforce Bibulus, who was making war with the Parthians, and
that no one should give in his name to serve under Pompey. Next,
when the senators would not suffer Caesar's letters to be received
or read in the senate, by virtue of his office he read them publicly,
and succeeded so well, that many were brought to change their
mind; Carsar's demands, as they appeared in what he wrote, being
but just and reasonable. At length, two questions being put in the
senate, the one, whether Pompey should dismiss his army, the other,
if Caesar his, some were for the former, for the latter all, except
some few, when Antony stood up and put the question, if it would
be agreeable to them that both Pompey and Caesar should dismiss
their armies. This proposal met with the greatest approval, they
gave him loud acclamations, and called for it to be put to the vote.
But when the consuls would not have it so, Caesar's friends again

326 plutarch's lives

made some new offers, very fair and equitable, but were strongly op-
posed by Cato, and Antony himself was commanded to leave the
senate by the consul Lentulus. So, leaving them with execrations,
and disguising himself in a servant's dress, hiring a carriage with
Quintus Cassius, he went straight away to Caesar, declaring at once,
when they reached the camp, that affairs at Rome were conducted
without any order or justice, that the privilege of speaking in the
senate was denied the tribunes, and that he who spoke for common
fair dealing was driven out and in danger of his life.

Upon this, Caesar set his army in motion, and marched into Italy;
and for this reason it is that Cicero writes in his Philippics, that
Antony was as much the cause of the civil war, as Helen was of the
Trojan. But this is but a calumny. For Caesar was not of so slight or
weak a temper as to suffer himself to be carried away, by the indig-
nation of the moment, into a civil war with his country, upon the
sight of Antony and Cassius seeking refuge in his camp, meanly
dressed and in a hired carriage, without ever having thought of it
or taken any such resolution long before. This was to him, who
wanted a pretence of declaring war, a fair and plausible occasion;
but the true motive that led him was the same that formerly led
Alexander and Cyrus against all mankind, the unquenchable thirst
of empire, and the distracted ambition of being the greatest man in
the world, which was impracticable for him, unless Pompey were
put down. So soon, then, as he had advanced and occupied Rome,
and driven Pompey out of Italy, he purposed first to go against the
legions that Pompey had in Spain, and then cross over and follow
him with the fleet that should be prepared during his absence, in
the mean time leaving the government of Rome to Lepidus, as
praetor, and the command of the troops and of Italy to Antony, as
tribune of the people. Antony was not long in getting the hearts
of the soldiers, joining with them in their exercises, and for the most
part living amongst them, and making them presents to the utmost
of his abilities; but with all others he was unpopular enough. He
was too lazy to pay attention to the complaints of persons who were
injured; he listened impatiently to petitions; and he had an ill name
for familiarity with other people's wives. In short, the government
of Caesar (which, so far as he was concerned himself, had the appear-

ANTONY 327

ance of any thing rather than a tyranny), got a bad repute through
his friends. And of these friends, Antony, as he had the largest
trust, and committed the greatest errors, was thought the most
deeply in fault.

Ca?sar, however, at his return from Spain, overlooked the charges
against him, and had no reason ever to complain, in the employ-
ments he gave him in the war, of any want of courage, energy, or
military skill. He himself, going aboard at Brundusium, sailed over
the Ionian Sea with a few troops, and sent back the vessels with
orders to Antony and Gabinius to embark the army, and come over
with all speed into Macedonia. Gabinius, having no mind to put
to sea in the rough, dangerous weather of the winter season, was
for marching the army round by the long land route; but Antony,
being more afraid lest Caesar might suffer from the number of his
enemies, who pressed him hard, beat back Libo, who was watching
with a fleet at the mouth of the haven of Brundusium, by attacking
his galleys with a number of small boats, and, gaining thus an op-
portunity, put on board twenty thousand foot and eight hundred
horse, and so set out to sea. And, being espied by the enemy and
pursued, from this danger he was rescued by a strong south wind,
which sprang up and raised so high a sea, that the enemy's galleys
could make little way. But his own ships were driving before it
upon a lee shore of cliffs and rocks running sheer to the water,
where there was no hope of escape, when all of a sudden the wind
turned about to south-west, and blew from land to the main sea,
where Antony, now sailing in security, saw the coast all covered
with the wreck of the enemy's fleet. For hither the galleys in pur-
suit had been carried by the gale, and not a few of them dashed
to pieces. Many men and much property fell into Antony's hands;
he took also the town of Lissus, and, by the seasonable arrival of so
large a reinforcement, gave Caesar great encouragement.

There was not one of the many engagements that now took place
one after another in which he did not signalize himself; twice he
stopped the army in its full flight, led them back to a charge, and
gained the victory. So that not without reason his reputation, next
to Caesar's, was greatest in the army. And what opinion Caesar him-
self had of him well appeared when for the final battle in Pharsalia,

328 plutarch's lives

which was to determine every thing, he himself chose to lead the
right wing, committing the charge of the left to Antony, as to the
best officer of all that served under him. After the battle, Caesar,
being created dictator, went in pursuit of Pompey, and sent Antony
to Rome, with the character of Master of the Horse, who is in office
and power next to the dictator, when present, and in his absence
is the first, and pretty nearly indeed the sole magistrate. For on the
appointment of a dictator, with the one exception of the tribunes,
all other magistrates cease to exercise any authority in Rome.

Dolabella, however, who was tribune, being a young man and
eager for change, was now for bringing in a general measure for
cancelling debts, and wanted Antony, who was his friend, and for-
ward enough to promote any popular project, to take part with him
in this step. Asinius and Trebellius were of the contrary opinion,
and it so happened at the same time, Antony was crossed by a ter-
rible suspicion that Dolabella was too familiar with his wife; and in
great trouble at this, he parted with her (she being his cousin, and
daughter to Caius Antonius, the colleague of Cicero), and, taking
part with Asinius, came to open hostilities with Dolabella, who had
seized on the forum, intending to pass his law by force. Antony,
backed by a vote of the senate that Dolabella should be put down
by force of arms, went down and attacked him, killing some of his,
and losing some of his own men; and by this action lost his favor
with the commonalty, while with the better class and with all well
conducted people his general course of life made him, as Cicero
says, absolutely odious, utter disgust being excited by his drinking
bouts at all hours, his wild expenses, his gross amours, the day spent
in sleeping or walking off his debauches, and the night in banquets
and at theatres, and in celebrating the nuptials of some comedian or
buffoon. It is related that, drinking all night at the wedding of
Hippias, the comedian, on the morning, having to harangue the
people, he came forward, overcharged as he was, and vomited be-
fore them all, one of his friends holding his gown for him. Sergius,
the player, was one of the friends who could do most with him; also
Cytheris, a woman of the same trade, whom he made much of,
and who, when he went his progress, accompanied him in a litter,
and had her equipage, not in any thing inferior to his mother's;

ANTONY 329

while every one, moreover, was scandalized at the sight of the
golden cups that he took with him, fitter for the ornaments of a
procession than the uses of a journey, at his having pavilions set up,
and sumptuous morning repasts laid out by river sides and in groves,
at his having chariots drawn by lions, and common women and
singing girls quartered upon the houses of serious fathers and
mothers of families. And it seemed very unreasonable that Caesar,
out of Italy, should lodge in the open field, and, with great fatigue
and danger, pursue the remainder of a hazardous war, whilst others,
by favor of his authority, should insult the citizens with their
impudent luxury.

All this appears to have aggravated party quarrels in Rome, and
to have encouraged the soldiers in acts of license and rapacity. And,
accordingly, when Carsar came home, he acquitted Dolabella, and,
being created the third time consul, took, not Antony, but Lepidus,
for his colleague. Pompey's house being offered for sale, Antony
bought it, and, when the price was demanded of him, loudly com-
plained. This, he tells us himself, and because he thought his former
services had not been recompensed as they deserved, made him not
follow Csesar with the army into Libya. However, Carsar, by deal-
ing gently with his errors, seems to have succeeded in curing him
of a good deal of his folly and extravagance. He gave up his former
courses, and took a wife, Fulvia, the widow of Clodius the dema-
gogue, a woman not born for spinning or housewifery, nor one that
could be content with ruling a private husband, but prepared to
govern a first magistrate, or give orders to a commander-in-chief.
So that Cleopatra had great obligations to her for having taught
Antony to be so good a servant, he coming to her hands tame and
broken into entire obedience to the commands of a mistress. He
used to play all sorts of sportive, boyish tricks, to keep Fulvia in good-
humor. As, for example, when Caesar, after his victory in Spain,
was on his return, Antony, among the rest, went out to meet him;
and, a rumor being spread that Ca:sar was killed and the enemy
marching into Italy, he returned to Rome, and, disguising himself,
came to her by night muffled up as a servant that brought letters
from Antony. She, with great impatience, before she received the
letter, asks if Antony were well, and instead of an answer he gives

330 PLUTARCH S LIVES

her the letter; and, as she was opening it, took her about the neck
and kissed her. This little story of many of the same nature, I give
as a specimen.

There was nobody of any rank in Rome that did not go some
days' journey to meet Caesar on his return from Spain; but Antony
was the best received of any, admitted to ride the whole journey
with him in his carriage, while behind came Brutus Albinus, and
Octavian, his niece's son, who afterwards bore his name and reigned
so long over the Romans. Carsar being created, the fifth time, con-
sul, without delay chose Antony for his colleague, but, designing
himself to give up his own consulate to Dolabella, he acquainted
the senate with his resolution. But Antony opposed it with all his
might, saying much that was bad against Dolabella, and receiving
the like language in return, till Caesar could bear with the indecency
no longer, and deferred the matter to another time. Afterwards,
when he came before the people to proclaim Dolabella, Antony cried
out that the auspices were unfavorable, so that at last Carsar, much
to Dolabella's vexation, yielded and gave it up. And it is credible
that Carsar was about as much disgusted with the one as the other.
When some one was accusing them both to him, "It is not," said he,
"these well-fed, long-haired men that I fear, but the pale and the
hungry looking;" meaning Brutus and Cassius, by whose conspiracy
he afterwards fell.

And the fairest pretext for that conspiracy was furnished, with-
out his meaning it, by Antony himself. The Romans were cele-
brating their festival, called the Lupercalia, when Caesar, in his tri-
umphal habit, and seated above the Rostra in the market-place, was
a spectator of the sports. The custom is, that many young noble-
men and of the magistracy, anointed with oil and having straps of
hide in their hands, run about and strike, in sport, at every one they
meet. Antony was running with the rest; but, omitting the old
ceremony, twining a garland of bay round a diadem, he ran up to
the Rostra, and, being lifted up by his companions, would have put
it upon the head of Caesar, as if by that ceremony he were declared
king. Caesar seemingly refused, and drew aside to avoid it, and
was applauded by the people with great shouts. Again Antony
pressed it, and again he declined its acceptance. And so the dispute

ANTONY 331

between them went on for some time, Antony's solicitations receiv-
ing but little encouragement from the shouts of a few friends, and
Caesar's refusal being accompanied with the general applause of
the people; a curious thing enough, that they should submit with
patience to the fact, and yet at the same time dread the name as the
destruction of their liberty. Caesar, very much discomposed at what
had past, got up from his seat, and, laying bare his neck, said, he
was ready to receive the stroke, if any one of them desired to give it.
The crown was at last put on one of his statues, but was taken down
by some of the tribunes, who were followed home by the people
with shouts of applause. Caesar, however, resented it, and deposed
them.

These passages gave great encouragement to Brutus and Cassius,
who, in making choice of trusty friends for such an enterprise, were
thinking to engage Antony. The rest approved, except Trebonius,
who told them that Antony and he had lodged and travelled to-
gether in the last journey they took to meet Caesar, and that he had
let fall several words, in a cautious way, on purpose to sound him;
that Antony very well understood him, but did not encourage it;
however, he had said nothing of it to Caesar, but had kept the secret
faithfully. The conspirators then proposed that Antony should die
with him, which Brutus would not consent to, insisting that an
action undertaken in defence of right and the laws must be main-
tained unsullied, and pure of injustice. It was setded that Antony,
whose bodily strength and high office made him formidable, should,
at Caesar's entrance into the senate, when the deed was to be done,
be amused outside by some of the party in a conversation about some
pretended business.

So when all was proceeded with, according to their plan, and
Caesar had fallen in the senate-house, Antony, at the first moment,
took a servant's dress, and hid himself. But, understanding that the
conspirators had assembled in the Capitol, and had no further de-
sign upon any one, he persuaded them to come down, giving them
his son as a hostage. That night Cassius supped at Antony's house,
and Brutus with Lepidus. Antony then convened the senate, and
spoke in favor of an act of oblivion, and the appointment of Brutus
and Cassius to provinces. These measures the senate passed; and

332 PLUTARCH S LIVES

resolved that all Caesar's acts should remain in force. Thus Antony
went out of the senate with the highest possible reputation and
esteem; for it was apparent that he had prevented a civil war, and
had composed, in the wisest and most statesmanlike way, questions
of the greatest difficulty and embarrassment. But these temperate
counsels were soon swept away by the tide of popular applause,
and the prospects, if Brutus were overthrown, of being without
doubt the ruler-in-chief. As Caesar's body was conveying to the
tomb, Antony, according to the custom, was making his funeral
oration in the market-place, and, perceiving the people to be infinitely
affected with what he had said, he began to mingle with his praises
language of commiseration, and horror at what had happened, and,
as he was ending his speech, he took the under-clothes of the dead,
and held them up, shewing them stains of blood and the holes of
the many stabs, calling those that had done this act villains and
bloody murderers. All which excited the people to such indignation,
that they would not defer the funeral, but, making a pile of tables
and forms in the very market-place, set fire to it; and every one,
taking a brand, ran to the conspirators' houses, to attack them.

Upon this, Brutus and his whole party left the city, and Caesar's
friends joined themselves to Antony. Calpurnia, Carsar's wife,
lodged with him the best part of the property, to the value of four
thousand talents; he got also into his hands all Caesar's papers,
wherein were contained journals of all he had done, and draughts
of what he designed to do, which Antony made good use of; for by
this means he appointed what magistrates he pleased, brought whom
he would into the senate, recalled some from exile, freed others out
of prison, and all this as ordered so by Carsar. The Romans, in
mockery, gave those who were thus benefited the name of Charon-
ites, 1 since, if put to prove their patents, they must have recourse to
the papers of the dead. In short, Antony's behavior in Rome was
very absolute, he himself being consul, and his two brothers in great
place; Caius, the one, being praetor, and Lucius, the other, tribune
of the people.

1 Suetonius says Orcini; which was the common name given, even in the law-books,
to slaves manumitted by their owner, after his death, by his will. Charonitcr, freedmen
of Charon, may have been a Greek translation of the Latin Orcini, freedmen of Orcus,
or the world below; or it was perhaps a more familiar word for the same thing.

ANTONY 333

While matters went thus in Rome, the young Caesar, Caesar's
niece's son, and by testament left his heir, arrived at Rome from
Apollonia, where he was when his uncle was killed. The first thing
he did was to visit Antony, as his father's friend. He spoke to him
concerning the money that was in his hands, and reminded him of
the legacy Ca?sar had made of seventy-five drachmas to every
Roman citizen. Antony, at first, laughing at such discourse from so
young a man, told him he wished he were in his health, and that
he wanted good counsel and good friends, to tell him the burden
of being executor to Caesar would sit very uneasily upon his young
shoulders. This was no answer to him; and, when he persisted in
demanding the property, Antony went on treating him injuriously
both in word and deed, opposed him when he stood for the tribune's
office, and, when he was taking steps for the dedication of his father's
golden chair, as had been enacted, he threatened to send him to
prison if he did not give over soliciting the people. This made the
young Caesar apply himself to Cicero, and all those that hated
Antony; by them he was recommended to the senate, while he him-
self courted the people, and drew together the soldiers from their
setdements, till Antony got alarmed, and gave him a meeting in the
Capitol, where, after some words, they came to an accommodation.

That night Antony had a very unlucky dream, fancying that his
right hand was thunderstruck. And, some few days after, he was
informed that Caesar was plotting to take his life. Caesar explained,
but was not believed, so that the breach was now made as wide as
ever; each of them hurried about all through Italy to engage, by
great offers, the old soldiers that lay scattered in their settlements,
and to be the first to secure the troops that still remained undis-
charged.

Cicero was at this time the man of greatest influence in Rome.
He made use of all his art to exasperate people against Antony, and
at length persuaded the senate to declare him a public enemy, to
send Caesar the rods and axes and other marks of honor usually
given to praetors, and to issue orders to Hirtius and Pansa, who were
the consuls, to drive Antony out of Italy. The armies engaged near
Modena, and Caesar himself was present and took part in the battle.
Antony was defeated, but both the consuls were slain. Antony, in

334 PLUTARCH S LIVES

his flight, was overtaken by distresses of every kind, and the worst of
all of them was famine. But it was his character in calamities to be
better than at any other time. Antony, in misfortune, was most nearly
a virtuous man. It is common enough for people, when they fall
into great disasters, to discern what is right, and what they ought
to do; but there are but few who in such extremities have the
strength to obey their judgment, either in doing what it approves
or avoiding what it condemns; and a good many are so weak as to
give way to their habits all the more, and are incapable of using
their minds. Antony, on this occasion, was a most wonderful ex-
ample to his soldiers. He, who had just quitted so much luxury
and sumptuous living, made no difficulty now of drinking foul
water and feeding on wild fruits and roots. Nay, it is related they
ate the very bark of trees, and, in passing over the Alps, lived upon
creatures that no one before had ever been willing to touch.

The design was to join the army on the other side the Alps, com-
manded by Lepidus, who he imagined would stand his friend, he
having done him many good offices with Ca?sar. On coming up and
encamping near at hand, finding he had no sort of encouragement
offered him, he resolved to push his fortune and venture all. His
hair was long and disordered, nor had he shaved his beard since his
defeat; in this guise, and with a dark colored cloak flung over him,
he came into the trenches of Lepidus, and began to address the
army. Some were moved at his habit, others at his words, so that
Lepidus, not liking it, ordered the trumpets to sound, that he might
be heard no longer. This raised in the soldiers yet a greater pity, so
that they resolved to confer secredy with him, and dressed Lzlius
and Clodius in women's clothes, and sent them to see him. They
advised him without delay to attack Lepidus's trenches, assuring him
that a strong party would receive him, and, if he wished it, would
kill Lepidus. Antony, however, had no wish for this, but next morn-
ing marched his army to pass over the river that parted the two
camps. He was himself the first man that stepped in, and, as he went
through towards the other bank, he saw Lepidus's soldiers in great
numbers reaching out their hands to help him, and beating down
the works to make him way. Being entered into the camp, and
finding himself absolute master, he nevertheless treated Lepidus

ANTONY 335

with the greatest civility, and gave him the title of Father, when he
spoke to him, and, though he had everything at his own command,
he left him the honor of being called the general. This fair usage
brought over to him Munatius Plancus, who was not far off with
a considerable force. Thus in great strength he repassed the Alps,
leading with him into Italy seventeen legions and ten thousand
horse, besides six legions which he left in garrison under the com-
mand of Varius, one of his familiar friends and boon companions,
whom they used to call by the nickname of Cotylon. 2

Caesar, perceiving that Cicero's wishes were for liberty, had ceased
to pay any further regard to him, and was now employing the
mediation of his friends to come to a good understanding with
Antony. They both met together with Lepidus in a small island,
where the conference lasted three days. The empire was soon deter-
mined of, it being divided amongst them as if it had been their
paternal inheritance. That which gave them all the trouble was to
agree who should be put to death, each of them desiring to destroy
his enemies and to save his friends. But, in the end, animosity to
those they hated carried the day against respect for relations and
affection for friends; and Caesar sacrificed Cicero to Antony, Antony
gave up his uncle Lucius Caesar, and Lepidus received permission to
murder his brother Paulus, or, as others say, yielded his brother to
them. I do not believe anything ever took place more truly savage
or barbarous than this composition, for, in this exchange of blood for
blood, they were equally guilty of the lives they surrendered and of
those they took; or, indeed more guilty in the case of their
friends, for whose deaths they had not even the justification of
hatred. To complete the reconciliation, the soldiery, coming about
them, demanded that confirmation should be given to it by some
alliance of marriage; Caesar should marry Clodia, the daughter of
Fulvia, wife to Antony. This also being agreed to, three hundred
persons were put to death by proscription. Antony gave orders to
those that were to kill Cicero, to cut off his head and right hand,
with which he had written his invectives against him; and, when
they were brought before him, he regarded them joyfully, actually
bursting out more than once into laughter, and, when he had satiated
'From Cotyle, a cup.

336 plutarch's lives

himself with the sight of them, ordered them to be hung up above
the speaker's place in the forum, thinking thus to insult the dead,
while in fact he only exposed his own wanton arrogance, and his
unworthiness to hold the power that fortune had given him. His
uncle Lucius Caesar, being closely pursued, took refuge with his
sister, who, when the murderers had broken into her house and were
pressing into her chamber, met them at the door, and, spreading out
her hands, cried out several times, "You shall not kill Lucius Caesar
till you first dispatch me, who gave your general his birth;" and in
this manner she succeeded in getting her brother out of the way,
and saving his life.

This triumvirate was very hateful to the Romans, and Antony
most of all bore the blame, because he was older than Caesar, and
had greater authority than Lepidus, and withal he was no sooner
settled in his affairs, but he returned to his luxurious and dissolute
way of living. Besides the ill reputation he gained by his general
behavior, it was some considerable disadvantage to him his living in
the house of Pompey the Great, who had been as much admired for
his temperance and his sober, citizen-like habits of life, as ever he was
for having triumphed three times. They could not without anger
see the doors of that house shut against magistrates, officers, and
envoys, who were shamefully refused admittance, while it was filled
inside with players, jugglers, and drunken flatterers, upon whom
were spent the greatest part of the wealth which violence and cruelty
procured. For they did not limit themselves to the forfeiture of the
estates of such as were proscribed, defrauding the widows and fami-
lies, nor were they contented with laying on every possible kind of
tax and imposition; but, hearing that several sums of money were, as
well by strangers as citizens of Rome, deposited in the hands of the
vestal virgins, they went and took the money away by force. When it
was manifest that nothing would ever be enough for Antony, Caesar
at last called for a division of property. The army was also divided
between them, upon their march into Macedonia to make war with
Brutus and Cassius, Lepidus being left with the command of the
city.

However, after they had crossed the sea and engaged in opera-
tions of war, encamping in front of the enemy, Antony opposite

ANTONY 337

Cassius, and Caesar opposite Brutus, Caesar did nothing worth relat-
ing, and all the success and victory were Antony's. In the first battle,
Caesar was completely routed by Brutus, his camp taken, he himself
very narrowly escaping by flight. As he himself writes in his Me-
moirs, he retired before the battle, on account of a dream which
one of his friends had. But Antony, on the other hand, defeated
Cassius; though some have written that he was not actually present
in the engagement, and only joined afterwards in the pursuit. Cas-
sius was killed, at his own entreaty and order, by one of his most
trusted freedmen, Pindarus, not being aware of Brutus's victory.
After a few days' interval, they fought another battle, in which
Brutus lost the day, and slew himself; and Caesar being sick, Antony
had almost all the honor of the victory. Standing over Brutus's dead
body, he uttered a few words of reproach upon him for the death
of his brother Caius, who had been executed by Brutus's order in
Macedonia in revenge of Cicero; but, saying presently that Hor-
tensius was most to blame for it, he gave order for his being slain
upon his brother's tomb, and, throwing his own scarlet mande,
which was of great value, upon the body of Brutus, he gave charge
to one of his own freedmen to take care of his funeral. This man, as
Antony came to understand, did not leave the mantle with the
corpse, but kept both it and a good part of the money that should
have been spent in the funeral for himself; for which he had him
put to death.

But Caesar was conveyed to Rome, no one expecting that he would
long survive. Antony, proposing to go to the eastern provinces to
lay them under contribution, entered Greece with a large force. The
promise had been made that every common soldier should receive
for his pay five thousand drachmas; so it was likely there would be
need of pretty severe taxing and levying to raise money. However, to
the Greeks he showed at first reason and moderation enough; he
gratified his love of amusement by hearing the learned men dispute,
by seeing the games, and undergoing initiation; and in judicial mat-
ters he was equitable, taking pleasure in being styled a lover of
Greece, but, above all, in being called a lover of Athens, to which city
he made very considerable presents. The people of Megara wished
to let him know that they also had something to show him, and in-

338 plutarch's lives

vited him to come and see their senate-house. So he went and exam-
ined it, and on their asking him how he liked it, told them it was
"not very large, but extremely ruinous." At the same time, he had
a survey made of the temple of the Pythian Apollo, as if he had
designed to repair it, and indeed he had declared to the senate his
intention so to do.

However, leaving Lucius Censorinus in Greece, he crossed over
into Asia, and there laid his hands on the stores of accumulated
wealth, while kings waited at his door, and queens were rivalling
one another, who should make him the greatest presents or appear
most charming in his eyes. Thus, whilst Caesar in Rome was wear-
ing out his strength amidst seditions and wars, Antony, with noth-
ing to do amidst the enjoyments of peace, let his passions carry him
easily back to the old course of life that was familiar to him. A set
of harpers and pipers, Anaxenor and Xuthus, the dancing-man
Metrodorus, and a whole Bacchic rout of the like Asiatic exhibitors,
far outdoing in license and buffoonery the pests that had followed
out of Italy, came in and possessed the court; the thing was past
patience, wealth of all kinds being wasted on objects like these. The
whole of Asia was like the city in Sophocles, loaded, at one time,

" with incense in the air,

Jubilant songs, and outcries of despair."

When he made his entry into Ephesus, the women met him
dressed up like Bacchantes, and the men and boys like Satyrs and
Fauns, and throughout the town nothing was to be seen but spears
wreathed about with ivy, harps, flutes, and psaltries, while Antony in
their songs was Bacchus the Giver of Joy and the Gende. And
so indeed he was to some, but to far more the Devourer and the Sav-
age, 3 for he would deprive persons of worth and quality of their for-
tunes to gratify villains and flatterers, who would sometimes beg the
estates of men yet living, pretending they were dead, and, obtaining
a grant, take possession. He gave his cook the house of a Magnesian
citizen, as a reward for a single highly successful supper, and, at last,

3 "Charidotes and Mrilichius in their songs, but too often, in reality, Omestet and
Agrionius." These are all epithets applied in various forms of worship to the Greek
Dionysus or Bacchus. It was to Bacchus Omestcs, the Devourer, that the Greeks, is
the battle of Salamis, offered the Persian princes. See the story in the lives of
Themistocles and Aristides.

ANTONY 339

when he was proceeding to lay a second whole tribute on Asia,
Hybreas, speaking on behalf of the cities, took courage, and told him
broadly, but aptly enough for Antony's taste, "If you can take two
yearly tributes, you can doubtless give us a couple of summers, and
a double harvest time;" and put it to him in the plainest and boldest
way, that Asia had raised two hundred thousand talents for his
service: "If this has not been paid to you, ask your collectors for it;
if it has, and is all gone, we are ruined men." These words touched
Antony to the quick, who was simply ignorant of most things that
were done in his name; not that he was so indolent, as he was
prone to trust frankly in all about him. For there was much sim-
plicity in his character; he was slow to see his faults, but, when he
did see them, was extremely repentant, and ready to ask pardon of
those he had injured; prodigal in his acts of reparation, and severe
in his punishments, but his generosity was much more extravagant
than his severity; his raillery was sharp and insulting, but the edge of
it was taken off by his readiness to submit to any kind of repartee;
for he was as well contented to be rallied, as he was pleased to rally
others. And this freedom of speech was, indeed, the cause of many of
his disasters. He never imagined that those who used so much lib-
erty in their mirth would flatter or deceive him in business of conse-
quence, not knowing how common it is with parasites to mix their
flattery with boldness, as confectioners do their sweetmeats with
something biting, to prevent the sense of satiety. Their freedoms and
impertinences at table were designed expressly to give to their obse-
quiousness in council the air of being not complaisance, but con-
viction.

Such being his temper, the last and crowning mischief that could
befall him came in the love of Cleopatra, to awaken and kindle to
fury passions that as yet lay still and dormant in his nature, and to
stifle and finally corrupt any elements that yet made resistance in him,
of goodness and a sound judgment. He fell into the snare thus. When
making preparation for the Parthian war, he sent to command her to
make her personal appearance in Cilicia, to answer an accusation,
that she had given great assistance, in the late wars, to Cassius. Del-
lius, who was sent on this message, had no sooner seen her face, and
remarked her adroitness and subdety in speech, but he felt con-

340 PLUTARCH S LIVES

vinced that Antony would not so much as think of giving any mo-
lestation to a woman like this; on the contrary, she would be the
first in favor with him. So he set himself at once to pay his court to
the Egyptian, and gave her his advice, "to go," in the Homeric style,
to Cilicia, "in her best attire," 4 and bade her fear nothing from An-
tony, the gentlest and kindest of soldiers. She had some faith in
the words of Dellius, but more in her own attractions, which, hav-
ing formerly recommended her to Caesar and the young Cnzus
Pompey, she did not doubt might prove yet more successful with
Antony. Their acquaintance was with her when a girl, young, and
ignorant of the world, but she was to meet Antony in the time of
life when women's beauty is most splendid, and their intellects are
in full maturity. 5 She made great preparation for her journey, of
money, gifts, and ornaments of value, such as so wealthy a kingdom
might afford, but she brought with her her surest hopes in her own
magic arts and charms.

She received several letters, both from Antony and from his
friends, to summon her, but she took no account of these orders; and
at last, as if in mockery of them, she came sailing up the river Cyd-
nus, in a barge with gilded stern and outspread sails of purple, while
oars of silver beat time to the music of flutes and fifes and harps. She
herself lay all along, under a canopy of cloth of gold, dressed as
Venus in a picture, and beautiful young boys, like painted Cupids,
stood on each side to fan her. Her maids were dressed like Sea
Nymphs and Graces, some steering at the rudder, some working
at the ropes. The perfumes diffused themselves from the vessel to
the shore, which was covered with multitudes, part following the
galley up the river on either bank, part running out of the city to see
the sight. The market-place was quite emptied, and Antony at last
was left alone sitting upon the tribunal; while the word went
through all the multitude, that Venus was come to feast with Bac-
chus, for the common good of Asia. On her arrival, Antony sent to
invite her to supper. She thought it fitter he should come to her; so,

* "To go to Ida in her best attire" is the verse, in which Plutarch merely substitutes
Cilicia for Ida. See the Iliad Book, XIV. 162, where Juno is described as setting forth
to beguile Jupiter from bis watch on Mount Ida, while Neptune shall check the
Trojans.

5 She was now about twenty-eight years old.

ANTONY 341

willing to show his good-humor and courtesy, he complied, and
went. He found the preparation to receive him magnificent beyond
expression, but nothing so admirable as the great number of lights;
for on a sudden there was let down altogether so great a number of
branches with lights in them so ingeniously disposed, some in
squares, and some in circles, that the whole thing was a spectacle that
has seldom been equalled for beauty.

The next day, Antony invited her to supper, and was very desirous
to outdo her as well in magnificence as contrivance; but he found he
was altogether beaten in both, and was so well convinced of it,
that he was himself the first to jest and mock at his poverty of wit,
and his rustic awkwardness. She, perceiving that his raillery was
broad and gross, and savored more of the soldier than the courtier,
rejoined in the same taste, and fell into it at once, without any sort
of reluctance or reserve. For her actual beauty, it is said, was not
in itself so remarkable that none could be compared with her, or
that no one could see her without being struck by it, but the con-
tact of her presence, if you lived with her, was irresistible; the attrac-
tion of her person, joining with the charm of her conversation, and
the character that attended all she said or did, was something be-
witching. It was a pleasure merely to hear the sound of her voice,
with which, like an instrument of many strings, she could pass from
one language to another; so that there were few of the barbarian
nations that she answered by an interpreter; to most of them she
spoke herself, as to the Ethiopians, Troglodytes, Hebrews, Arabians,
Syrians, Medes, Parthians, and many others, whose language she
had learnt; which was all the more surprising, because most of the
kings her predecessors scarcely gave themselves the trouble to ac-
quire the Egyptian tongue, and several of them quite abandoned the
Macedonian.

Antony was so captivated by her, that, while Fulvia his wife
maintained his quarrels in Rome against Caesar by actual force of
arms, and the Parthian troops, commanded by Labienus (the king's
generals having made him commander-in-chief), were assembled in
Mesopotamia, and ready to enter Syria, he could yet suffer himself
to be carried away by her to Alexandria, there to keep holiday, like
a boy, in play and diversion, squandering and fooling away in enjoy-

»

342 PLUTARCH S LIVES

ments that most costly, as Antiphon says, of all valuables, time.
They had a sort of company, to which they gave a particular name,
calling it that of the Inimitable Livers. The members entertained
one another daily in turn, with an extravagance of expenditure be-
yond measure or belief. Philotas, a physician of Amphissa, who was
at that time a student of medicine in Alexandria, used to tell my
grandfather Lamprias, that, having some acquaintance with one of
the royal cooks, he was invited by him, being a young man, to come
and see the sumptuous preparations for supper. So he was taken
into the kitchen, where he admired the prodigious variety of all
things; but particularly, seeing eight wild boars roasting whole, says
he, "Surely you have a great number of guests." The cook laughed
at his simplicity, and told him there were not above twelve to sup,
but that every dish was to be served up just roasted to a turn, and
if any thing was but one minute ill-timed, it was spoiled; "And,"
said he, "maybe Antony will sup just now, maybe not this hour,
maybe he will call for wine, or begin to talk, and will put it off. So
that," he continued, "it is not one, but many suppers must be had
in readiness, as it is impossible to guess at his hour." This was
Philotas's story; who related besides, that he afterwards came to be
one of the medical attendants of Antony's eldest son by Fulvia, and
used to be invited pretty often, among other companions, to his table,
when he was not supping with his father. One day another physician
had talked loudly, and given great disturbance to the company,
whose mouth Philotas stopped with this sophistical syllogism: "In
some states of fever the patient should take cold water; every one
who has a fever is in some state of fever; therefore in a fever cold
water should always be taken." The man was quite struck dumb,
and Antony's son, very much pleased, laughed aloud, and said,
"Philotas, I make you a present of all you see there," pointing to a
sideboard covered with plate. Philotas thanked him much, but was
far enough from ever imagining that a boy of his age could dispose
of things of that value. Soon after, however, the plate was all
brought to him, and he was desired to set his mark upon it; and
when he put it away from him, and was afraid to accept the present,
"What ails the man?" said he that brought it; "do you know that he
who gives you this is Antony's son, who is free to give it, if it were

ANTONY 343

all gold? but if you will be advised by me, I would counsel you to
accept of the value in money from us; for there may be amongst the
rest some antique or famous piece of workmanship, which Antony
would be sorry to part with." These anecdotes my grandfather told
us Philotas used frequently to relate.

To return to Cleopatra; Plato admits four sorts of flattery, 6 but
she had a thousand. Were Antony serious or disposed to mirth, she
had at any moment some new delight or charm to meet his wishes;
at every turn she was upon him, and let him escape her neither by
day nor by night. She played at dice with him, drank with him,
hunted with him; and when he exercised in arms, she was there to
see. At night she would go rambling with him to disturb and tor-
ment people at their doors and windows, dressed like a servant-
woman, for Antony also went in servant's disguise, and from these
expeditions he often came home very scurvily answered, and some-
times even beaten severely, though most people guessed who it was.
However, the Alexandrians in general liked it all well enough, and
joined good humoredly and kindly in his frolic and play, saying
they were much obliged to Antony for acting his tragic parts at
Rome, and keeping his comedy for them. It would be trifling with-
out end to be particular in his follies, but his fishing must not be
forgotten. He went out one day to angle with Cleopatra, and, being
so unfortunate as to catch nothing in the presence of his mistress, he
gave secret orders to the fishermen to dive under water, and put
fishes that had been already taken upon his hooks; and these he
drew so fast that the Egyptian perceived it. But, feigning great ad-
miration, she told everybody how dexterous Antony was, and in-
vited them next day to come and see him again. So, when a num-
ber of them had come on board the fishing boats, as soon as he had
let down his hook, one of her servants was beforehand with his
divers, and fixed upon his hook a salted fish from Pontus. Antony,

* See the Gorgias, chapter 1 9. The four Flatteries are the four Counterfeit Arts,
which profess to do good to men's bodies and souls, and in reality only gratify their
pleasures. The legislator's place is thus usurped by the sophist, the false rcasoncr, in
deliberative assemblies; that of the judge by the rhetorician or pleader; the medical
adviser is supplanted by the purveyor of luxuries, and the gymnastic teacher by the
adorner of the person. The four genuine Arts are nomothetic, dicaniC iatrik.c, and
gymnastike; the four corresponding Flatteries are sophistike, rhetorikji, opsopoiiks. and
kommotike.

344 plutarch's lives

feeling his line give, drew up the prey, and when, as may be imag-
ined, great laughter ensued, "Leave," said Cleopatra, "the fishing-
rod, general, to us poor sovereigns of Pharos and Canopus; your
game is cities, provinces, and kingdoms."

Whilst he was thus diverting himself and engaged in this boys'
play, two despatches arrived; one from Rome, that his brother Lucius
and his wife Fulvia, after many quarrels among themselves, had
joined in war against Carsar, and, having lost all, had fled out of
Italy; the other bringing little better news, that Labienus, at the
head of the Parthians, was overrunning Asia, from Euphrates and
Syria as far as Lydia and Ionia. So, scarcely at last rousing himself
from sleep, and shaking off the fumes of wine, he set out to attack
the Parthians, and went as far as Phoenicia; but, upon the receipt of
lamentable letters from Fulvia, turned his course with two hundred
ships to Italy. And, in his way, receiving such of his friends as fled
from Italy, he was given to understand that Fulvia was the sole
cause of the war, a woman of a restless spirit and very bold, and
withal her hopes were that commotions in Italy would force Antony
from Cleopatra. But it happened that Fulvia, as she was coming to
meet her husband, fell sick by the way, and died at Sicyon, so that
an accommodation was the more easily made. For when he reached
Italy, and Carsar showed no intention of laying any thing to his
charge, and he on his part shifted the blame of every thing on Fulvia,
those that were friends to them would not surfer that the time should
be spent in looking narrowly into the plea, but made a reconcili-
ation first, and then a partition of the empire between them, taking
as their boundary the Ionian Sea, the eastern provinces falling to
Antony, to Caesar the western, and Africa being left to Lepidus. And
an agreement was made, that every one in their turn, as they thought
fit, should make their friends consuls, when they did not choose to
take the offices themselves.

These terms were well approved of, but yet it was thought some
closer tie would be desirable; and for this, fortune offered occasion.
Caesar had an elder sister, not of the whole blood, for Attia was his
mother's name, hers Ancharia. This sister, Octavia, he was ex-
tremely attached to, as, indeed, she was, it is said, quite a wonder of
a woman. Her husband, Caius Marcellus, had died not long before,

ANTONY 345

and Antony was now a widower by the death of Fulvia; for, though
he did not disavow the passion he had for Cleopatra, yet he disowned
any thing of marriage, reason, as yet, upon this point, still maintain-
ing the debate against the charms of the Egyptian. Everybody con-
curred in promoting this new alliance, fully expecting that with the
beauty, honor, and prudence of Octavia, when her company should,
as it was certain it would, have engaged his affections, all would be
kept in the safe and happy course of friendship. So, both parties
being agreed, they went to Rome to celebrate the nuptials, the senate
dispensing with the law by which a widow was not permitted to
marry till ten months after the death of her husband.

Sextus Pompeius was in possession of Sicily, and with his ships,
under the command of Menas, the pirate, and Menecrates, so in-
fested the Italian coast, that no vessels durst venture into those seas.
Sextus had behaved with much humanity towards Antony, having
received his mother when she fled with Fulvia, and it was therefore
judged fit that he also should be received into the peace. They met
near the promontory of Misenum, by the mole of the port, Pompey
having his fleet at anchor close by, and Antony and Caesar their
troops drawn up all along the shore. There it was concluded that
Sextus should quietly enjoy the government of Sicily and Sardinia,
he conditioning to scour the seas of all pirates, and to send so much
corn every year to Rome.

This agreed on, they invited one another to supper, and by lot it
fell to Pompey's turn to give the first entertainment, and Antony,
asking where it was to be, "There," said he, pointing to the admiral-
galley, a ship of six banks of oars, "that is the only house that Pom-
pey is heir to of his father's." 7 And this he said, reflecting upon
Antony, who was then in possession of his father's house. Having
fixed the ship on her anchors, and formed a bridgeway from the
promontory to conduct on board of her, he gave them a cordial wel-
come. And when they began to grow warm, and jests were passing
freely on Antony and Cleopatra's loves, Menas, the pirate, whispered
Pompey in the ear, "Shall I," said he, "cut the cables, and make you
master not of Sicily only and Sardinia, but of the whole Roman

7 "In Carinis," according to Dion Cassius, was the answer. "In the Carina:," which
might mean either the ships, or the quarter called the Carina:, at Rome, in which
stood his father's house.

346 plutarch's lives

empire?" Pompey, having considered a little while, returned him
answer, "Menas, this might have been done without acquainting me;
now we must rest content; I do not break my word." And so, having
been entertained by the other two in their turns, he set sail for
Sicily.

After the treaty was completed, Antony despatched Ventidius
into Asia, to check the advance of the Parthians, while he, as a com-
pliment to Caesar, accepted the office of priest to the deceased Caesar.
And in any state affair and matter of consequence, they both be-
haved themselves with much consideration and friendliness for each
other. But it annoyed Antony, that in all their amusements, on any
trial of skill or fortune, Caesar should be constantly victorious. He
had with him an Egyptian diviner, one of those who calculate nativ-
ities, who, either to make his court to Cleopatra, or that by the rules
of his art he found it to be so, openly declared to him, that though
the fortune that attended him was bright and glorious, yet it was
overshadowed by Cxsar's; and advised him to keep himself as far
distant as he could from that young man; "for your Genius," said
he, "dreads his; when absent from him yours is proud and brave,
but in his presence unmanly and dejected;" and incidents that oc-
curred appeared to show that the Egyptian spoke truth. For when-
ever they cast lots for any playful purpose, or threw dice, Antony
was still the loser; and repeatedly, when they fought game-cocks
or quails, Caesar's had the victory. This gave Antony a secret dis-
pleasure, and made him put the more confidence in the skill of his
Egyptian. So, leaving the management of his home affairs to
Caesar, he left Italy, and took Octavia, who had lately borne him a
daughter, along with him into Greece.

Here, whilst he wintered in Athens, he received the first news of
Ventidius's successes over the Parthians, of his having defeated
them in a battle, having slain Labienus and Pharnapates, the best
general their king, Hyrodes, possessed. For the celebrating of which
he made a public feast through Greece, and for the prizes which
were contested at Athens he himself acted as steward, and, leaving
at home the ensigns that are carried before the general, he made his
public appearance in a gown and white shoes, with the steward's
wands marching before; and he performed his duty in taking the

ANTONY 347

combatants by the neck, to part them, when they had fought enough.
When the time came for him to set out for the war, he took a
garland from the sacred olive, and, in obedience to some oracle, he
filled a vessel with the water of the Clepsydra, 8 to carry along with
him. In this interval, Pacorus, the Parthian king's son, who was
marching into Syria with a large army, was met by Ventidius, who
gave him battle in the country of Cyrrhestica, slew a large number
of his men, and Pacorus among the first. This victory was one of the
most renowned achievements of the Romans, and fully avenged their
defeats under Crassus, the Parthians being obliged, after the loss of
three battles successively, to keep themselves within the bounds of
Media and Mesopotamia. Ventidius was not willing to push his
good fortune further, for fear of raising some jealousy in Antony,
but, turning his arms against those that had quitted the Roman
interest, he reduced them to their former obedience. Among the rest,
he besieged Antiochus, king of Commagene, in the city of Samosata,
who made an offer of a thousand talents for his pardon, and a
promise of submission to Antony's commands. But Ventidius told
him that he must send to Antony, who was already on his march,
and had sent word to Ventidius to make no terms with Antiochus,
wishing that at any rate this one exploit might be ascribed to him,
and that people might not think that all his successes were won by
his lieutenants. The siege, however, was long protracted; for when
those within found their offers refused, they defended themselves
stoutly, till, at last, Antony, finding he was doing nothing, in shame
and regret for having refused the first offer, was glad to make an
accommodation with Antiochus for three hundred talents. And,
having given some orders for the affairs of Syria, he returned to
Athens; and, paying Ventidius the honors he well deserved, dis-
missed him to receive his triumph. He is the only man that has
ever yet triumphed for victories obtained over the Parthians; he
was of obscure birth, but, by means of Antony's friendship, obtained
an opportunity of showing his capacity, and doing great things; and
his making such glorious use of it gave new credit to the current
observation about Qesar and Antony, that they were more fortu-

1 The Clepsydra was a sacred spring, still to be found, inclosed in a chapel in the
rock, on the north side of the Acropolis, near the cave of Apollo and Pan.

348 plutarch's lives

nate in what they did by their lieutenants than in their own per-
sons. For Sossius, also, had great success, and Canidius, whom he
left in Armenia, defeated the people there, and also the kings of
the Albanians and Iberians, and marched victorious as far as Cau-
casus, by which means the fame of Antony's arms had become great
among the barbarous nations.

He, however, once more, upon some unfavorable stories, taking
offence against Caesar, set sail with three hundred ships for Italy,
and, being refused admittance to the port of Brundusium, made for
Tarentum. There his wife Octavia, who came from Greece with
him, obtained leave to visit her brother, she being then great with
child, having already borne her husband a second daughter; and as
she was on her way, she met Caesar, with his two friends Agrippa
and Maecenas, and, taking these two aside, with great entreaties
and lamentations she told them, that of the most fortunate woman
upon earth, she was in danger of becoming the most unhappy; for
as yet every one's eyes were fixed upon her as the wife and sister of
the two great commanders, but, if rash counsels should prevail, and
war ensue, "I shall be miserable," said she, "without redress; for on
what side soever victory falls, I shall be sure to be a loser." Caesar was
overcome by these entreaties, and advanced in a peaceable temper
to Tarentum, where those that were present beheld a most stately
spectacle; a vast army drawn up by the shore, and as great a fleet
in the harbor, all without the occurrence of any act of hostility;
nothing but the salutations of friends, and other expressions of joy
and kindness, passing from one armament to the other. Antony first
entertained Caesar, this also being a concession on Caesar's part to
his sister; and when at length an agreement was made between
them, that Caesar should give Antony two of his legions to serve
him in the Parthian war, and that Antony should in return leave
with him a hundred armed galleys, Octavia further obtained of her
husband, besides this, twenty light ships for her brother, and
of her brother, a thousand foot for her husband. So, having parted
good friends, Caesar went immediately to make war with Pompey
to conquer Sicily. And Antony, leaving in Caesar's charge his wife
and children, and his children by his former wife Fulvia, set sail
for Asia.

ANTONY 349

But the mischief that thus long had lain still, the passion for
Cleopatra, which better thoughts had seemed to have lulled and
charmed into oblivion, upon his approach to Syria, gathered strength
again, and broke out into a flame. And, in fine, like Plato's restive
and rebellious horse of the human soul, 9 flinging off all good and
wholesome counsel, and breaking fairly loose, he sends Fonteius
Capito to bring Cleopatra into Syria. To whom at her arrival he
made no small or trifling present, Phoenicia, Coele-Syria, Cyprus,
great part of Cilicia, that side of Judara which produces balm, that
part of Arabia where the Nabatharans extend to the outer sea; pro-
fuse gifts, which much displeased the Romans. For, although he
had invested several private persons in great governments and king-
doms, and bereaved many kings of theirs, as Antigonus of Judaea,
whose head he caused to be struck off (the first example of that
punishment being inflicted on a king), yet nothing stung the
Romans like the shame of these honors paid to Cleopatra. Their dis-
satisfaction was augmented also by his acknowledging as his own
the twin children he had by her, giving them the name of Alex-
ander and Cleopatra, and adding, as their surnames, the titles of
Sun and Moon. But he, who knew how to put a good color on
the most dishonest action, would say, that the greatness of the
Roman empire consisted more in giving than in taking kingdoms,
and that the way to carry noble blood through the world was by
begetting in every place a new line and series of kings; his own
ancestor had thus been born of Hercules; Hercules had not limited
his hopes of progeny to a single womb, nor feared any law like
Solon's, or any audit of procreation, but had freely let nature take
her will in the foundation and first commencement of many families.

After Phraates had killed his father Hyrodes, and taken posses-
sion of his kingdom, many of the Parthians left their country;
among the rest, Monacses, a man of great distinction and authority,
sought refuge with Antony, who, looking on his case as similar to
that of Themistocles, and likening his own opulence and magnanim-

•The soul of man has in it a driver and two horses, the one strong and willing,
quick to obey, and eager for applause and for honorable praise; the other unruly and
ill-conditioned, greedy and violent, whom only flogging and the goad can control. Do
what the driver within us will, our better horse may be seduced at times from his
duty, his evil yoke-fellow may obtain the mastery, and bear away all to destruction.

350 PLUTARCH S LIVES

ity to those of the former Persian kings, gave him three cities,
Larissa, Arethusa, and Hierapolis, which was formerly called Bam-
byce. But when the king of Parthia soon recalled him, giving him
his word and honor for his safety, Antony was not unwilling to give
him leave to return, hoping thereby to surprise Phraates, who would
believe that peace would continue; for he only made the demand of
him, that he should send back the Roman ensigns which were taken
when Crassus was slain, and the prisoners that remained yet alive.
This done, he sent Cleopatra into Egypt, and marched through
Arabia and Armenia; and, when his forces came together, and were
joined by those of his confederate kings (of whom there were very
many, and the most considerable, Artavasdes, king of Armenia,
who came at the head of six thousand horse and seven thousand
foot), he made a general muster. There appeared sixty thousand
Roman foot, ten thousand horse, Spaniards and Gauls, who counted
as Romans; and, of other nations, horse and foot, thirty thousand.
And these great preparations, that put the Indians beyond Bactria
into alarm, and made all Asia shake, were all, we are told, rendered
useless to him because of Cleopatra. For, in order to pass the winter
with her, the war was pushed on before its due time; and all he did
was done without perfect consideration, as by a man who had no
proper control over his faculties, who, under the effects of some drug
or magic, was still looking back elsewhere, and whose object was
much more to hasten his return than to conquer his enemies.

For, first of all, when he should have taken up his winter-quarters
in Armenia, to refresh his men, who were tired with long marches,
having come at least eight thousand furlongs, and then have taken
the advantage in the beginning of the spring to invade Media, before
the Parthians were out of winter-quarters, he had not patience to
expect his time, but marched into the province of Atropatene, leaving
Armenia on the left hand, and laid waste all that country. Secondly,
his haste was so great, that he left behind the engines absolutely
required for any siege, which followed the camp in three hundred
wagons, and, among the rest, a ram eighty feet long; none of which
was it possible, if lost or damaged, to repair or to make the like, as
the provinces of the upper Asia produce no trees long or hard
enough for such uses. Nevertheless, he left them all behind, as a

ANTONY 351

mere impediment to his speed, in the charge of a detachment under
the command of Statianus, the wagon-officer. He himself laid siege
to Phraata, a principal city of the king of Media, wherein were that
king's wife and children. And when actual need proved the great-
ness of his error in leaving the siege train behind him, he had noth-
ing for it but to come up and raise a mound against the walls, with
infinite labor and great loss of time. Meantime Phraates, coming
down with a large army, and hearing that the wagons were left
behind with the battering engines, sent a strong party of horse, by
which Statianus was surprised, he himself and ten thousand of his
men slain, the engines all broken in pieces, many taken prisoners,
and, among the rest, king Polemon.

This great miscarriage in the opening of the campaign much
discouraged Antony's army, and Artavasdes, king of Armenia,
deciding that the Roman prospects were bad, withdrew with all his
forces from the camp, although he had been the chief promoter of
the war. The Parthians, encouraged by their success, came up to
the Romans at the siege, and gave them many affronts; upon which
Antony, fearing that the despondency and alarm of his soldiers
would only grow worse if he let them lie idle, taking all the horse,
ten legions, and three prauorian cohorts of heavy infantry, resolved
to go out and forage, designing by this means to draw the enemy
with more advantage to a battle. To effect this, he marched a day's
journey from his camp, and, finding the Parthians hovering about,
in readiness to attack him while he was in motion, he gave orders
for the signal of battle to be hung out in the encampment, but, at
the same time, pulled down the tents, as if he meant not to fight,
but to lead his men home again; and so he proceeded to lead them
past the enemy, who were drawn up in a half-moon, his orders being
that the horse should charge as soon as the legions were come up
near enough to second them. The Parthians, standing still while
the Romans marched by them, were in great admiration of their
army, and of the exact discipline it observed, rank after rank passing
on at equal distances in perfect order and silence, their pikes all
ready in their hands. But when the signal was given, and the horse
turned short upon the Parthians, and with loud cries charged them,
they bravely received them, though they were at once too near for

352 plutarch's lives

bowshot; but the legions, coming up with loud shouts and rattling
of their arms, so frightened their horses and indeed the men them-
selves, that they kept their ground no longer. Antony pressed them
hard, in great hopes that this victory should put an end to the war;
the foot had them in pursuit for fifty furlongs, and the horse for
thrice that distance, and yet, the advantage summed up, they had but
thirty prisoners, and there were but fourscore slain. So that they
were all filled with dejection and discouragement, to consider, that
when they were victorious, their advantage was so small, and that
when they were beaten, they lost so great a number of men as they
had done when the carriages were taken.

The next day, having put the baggage in order, they marched
back to the camp before Phraata, in the way meeting with some
scattering troops of the enemy, and, as they marched further, with
greater parties, at length with the body of the enemy's army, fresh
and in good order, who defied them to battle, and charged them on
every side, and it was not without great difficulty that they reached
the camp. There Antony, finding that his men had in a panic
deserted the defence of the mound, upon a sally of the Medes, re-
solved to proceed against them by decimation, as it is called, which
is done by dividing the soldiers into tens, and, out of every ten, put-
ting one to death, as it happens by lot. The rest he gave orders should
have, instead of wheat, their rations of corn and barley.

The war was now become grievous to both parties, and the pros-
pect of its continuance yet more fearful to Antony, in respect that
he was threatened with famine; for he could no longer forage with-
out wounds and slaughter. And Phraates, on the other side, was
full of apprehension that, if the Romans were to persist in carrying
on the siege, the autumnal equinox being past and the air already
closing in for cold, he should be deserted by his soldiers, who would
suffer any thing rather than wintering in open field. To prevent
which, he had recourse to the following deceit: he gave orders to
those of his men who had made most acquaintance among the
Roman soldiers, not to pursue too close when they met them for-
aging, but to suffer them to carry off some provision; moreover,
that they should praise their valor, and declare that it was not with-
out just reason that their king looked upon the Romans as the

ANTONY 353

bravest men in the world. This done, upon further opportunity
they rode nearer in, and, drawing up their horses by the men, began
to revile Antony for his obstinacy; that whereas Phraates desired
nothing more than peace, and an occasion to show how ready he was
to save the lives of so many brave soldiers, he, on the contrary, gave
no opening to any friendly offers, but sat awaiting the arrival of the
two fiercest and worst enemies, winter and famine, from whom it
would be hard for them to make their escape, even with all the
good-will of the Parthians to help them. Antony, having these re-
ports from many hands, began to indulge the hope; nevertheless, he
would not send any message to the Parthian till he had put the
question to these friendly talkers, whether what they said was said
by orders of their king. Receiving answer that it was, together
with new encouragement to believe them, he sent some of his friends
to demand once more the standards and prisoners, lest, if he should
ask nothing, he might be supposed to be too thankful to have leave
to retreat in quiet. The Parthian king made answer, that as for
the standards and prisoners, he need not trouble himself; but if he
thought fit to retreat, he might do it when he pleased, in peace and
safety. Some few days, therefore, being spent in collecting the bag-
gage, he set out upon his march. On which occasion, though there
was no man of his time like him for addressing a multitude, or
for carrying soldiers with him by the force of words, out of shame
and sadness he could not find in his heart to speak himself, but
employed Domitius jEnobarbus. And some of the soldiers resented
it, as an undervaluing of them; but the greater number saw the
true cause, and pitied it, and thought it rather a reason why they
on their side should treat their general with more respect and
obedience than ordinary.

Antony had resolved to return by the same way he came, which
was through a level country clear of all trees; but a certain Mardian
came to him (one that was very conversant with the manners of the
Parthians, and whose fidelity to the Romans had been tried at the
battle where the machines were lost), and advised him to keep the
mountains close on his right hand, and not to expose his men,
heavily armed, in a broad, open, riding country, to the attacks of a
numerous army of light-horse and archers; that Phraates with fair

354 plutarch's lives

promises had persuaded him from the siege on purpose that he
might with more ease cut him off in his retreat; but, if so he pleased,
he would conduct him by a nearer route, on which moreover he
should find the necessaries for his army in greater abundance.
Antony upon this began to consider what was best to be done; he
was unwilling to seem to have any mistrust of the Parthians after
their treaty; but, holding it to be really best to march his army the
shorter and more inhabited way, he demanded of the Mardian some
assurance of his faith, who offered himself to be bound until the
army came safe into Armenia. Two days he conducted the army
bound, and, on the third, when Antony had given up all thought
of the enemy, and was marching at his ease in no very good order,
the Mardian, perceiving the bank of a river broken down, and the
water let out and overflowing the road by which they were to pass,
saw at once that this was the handiwork of the Parthians, done out
of mischief, and to hinder their march; so he advised Antony to
be upon his guard, for that the enemy was nigh at hand. And no
sooner had he begun to put his men in order, disposing the slingers
and dart-men in convenient intervals for sallying out, but the Parthi-
ans came pouring in on all sides, fully expecting to encompass them,
and throw the whole army into disorder. They were at once at-
tacked by the light troops, whom they galled a good deal with their
arrows; but, being themselves as warmly entertained with the slings
and darts, and many wounded, they made their retreat. Soon after,
rallying up afresh, they were beat back by a battalion of Gallic horse,
and appeared no more that day.

By their manner of attack Antony seeing what to do, not only
placed the slings and darts as a rear guard, but also lined both
flanks with them, and so marched in a square battle, giving order
to the horse to charge and beat off the enemy, but not to follow them
far as they retired. So that the Parthians, not doing more mischief
for the four ensuing days than they received, began to abate in their
zeal, and, complaining that the winter season was much advanced,
pressed for returning home.

But, on the fifth day, Flavius Gallus, a brave and active officer,
who had a considerable command in the army, came to Antony,
desiring of him some light-infantry out of the rear, and some horse

ANTONY 355

out of the front, with which he would undertake to do some con-
siderable service. Which when he had obtained, he beat the enemy
back, not withdrawing, as was usual, at the same time, and retreat-
ing upon the mass of the heavy infantry, but maintaining his own
ground, and engaging boldly. The officers who commanded in the
rear, perceiving how far he was getting from the body of the army,
sent to warn him back, but he took no notice of them. It is said
that Titius the quxstor snatched the standards and turned them
round, upbraiding Gallus with thus leading so many brave men to
destruction. But when he on the other side reviled him again, and
commanded the men that were about him to stand firm, Titius
made his retreat, and Gallus, charging the enemies in the front,
was encompassed by a party that fell upon his rear, which at length
perceiving, he sent a messenger to demand succor. But the com-
manders of the heavy infantry, Canidius amongst others, a particu-
lar favorite of Antony's, seem here to have committed a great over-
sight. For, instead of facing about with the whole body, they sent
small parties, and, when they were defeated, they still sent out small
parties, so that by their bad management the rout would have spread
through the whole army, if Antony himself had not marched from
the van at the head of the third legion, and, passing this through
among the fugitives, faced the enemies, and hindered them from any
further pursuit.

In this engagement were killed three thousand, five thousand
were carried back to the camp wounded, amongst the rest Gallus,
shot through the body with four arrows, of which wounds he died.
Antony went from tent to tent to visit and comfort the rest of them,
and was not able to see his men without tears and a passion of grief.
They, however, seized his hand with joyful faces, bidding him go
and see to himself and not be concerned about them, calling him
their emperor and their general, and saying that if he did well they
were safe. For in short, never in all these times can history make
mention of a general at the head of a more splendid army; whether
you consider strength and youth, or patience and sufferance in labors
and fatigues; but as for the obedience and affectionate respect they
bore their general, and the unanimous feeling amongst small and
great alike, officers and common soldiers, to prefer his good opinion

356 plutarch's lives

of them to their very lives and being, in this part of military excel-
lence it was not possible that they could have been surpassed by the
very Romans of old. For this devotion, as I have said before, there
were many reasons, as the nobility of his family, his eloquence, his
frank and open manners, his liberal and magnificent habits, his
familiarity in talking with everybody, and, at this time particularly,
his kindness in assisting and pitying the sick, joining in all their
pains, and furnishing them with all things necessary, so that the sick
and wounded were even more eager to serve than those that were
whole and strong.

Nevertheless, this last victory had so encouraged the enemy, that,
instead of their former impatience and weariness, they began soon
to feel contempt for the Romans, staying all night near the camp,
in expectation of plundering their tents and baggage, which they
concluded they must abandon; and in the morning new forces
arrived in large masses, so that their number was grown to be not
less, it is said, than forty thousand horse; and the king had sent
the very guards that attended upon his own person, as to a sure and
unquestioned victory. For he himself was never present in any fight.
Antony, designing to harangue the soldiers, called for a mourning
habit, that he might move them the more, but was dissuaded by his
friends; so he came forward in the general's scarlet cloak, and ad-
dressed them, praising those that had gained the victory, and
reproaching those that had fled, the former answering him with
promises of success, and the latter excusing themselves, and telling
him they were ready to undergo decimation, or any other punish-
ment he should please to inflict upon them, only entreating that he
would forget and not discompose himself with their faults. At
which he lifted up his hands to heaven, and prayed the gods, that
if to balance the great favors he had received of them any judgment
lay in store, they would pour it upon his head alone, and grant his
soldiers victory.

The next day they took better order for their march, and the
Parthians, who thought they were marching rather to plunder than
to fight, were much taken aback, when they came up and were re-
ceived with a shower of missiles, to find the enemy not disheartened,
but fresh and resolute. So that they themselves began to lose courage.

ANTONY 357

But at the descent of a hill where the Romans were obliged to pass,
they got together, and let fly their arrows upon them as they moved
slowly down. But the full-armed infantry, facing round, received
the light troops within; and those in the first rank knelt on one
knee, holding their shields before them, the next rank holding theirs
over the first, and so again others over these, much like the tiling
of a house, or the rows of seats in a theatre, the whole affording
sure defence against arrows, which glance upon them without doing
any harm. The Parthians, seeing the Romans down upon their
knees, could not imagine but that it must proceed from weariness;
so that they laid down their bows, and taking their spears, made
a fierce onset, when the Romans, with a great cry, leapt upon their
feet, striking hand to hand with their javelins, slew the foremost, and
put the rest to flight. After this rate it was every day, and the trouble
they gave made the marches short; in addition to which famine
began to be felt in the camp, for they could get but little corn, and
that which they got they were forced to fight for; and, besides this,
they were in want of implements to grind it and make bread. For
they had left almost all behind, the baggage horses being dead or
otherwise employed in carrying the sick and wounded. Provision
was so scarce in the army that an Attic quart of wheat sold for fifty
drachmas, and barley loaves for their weight in silver. And when
they tried vegetables and roots, they found such as are commonly
eaten very scarce, so that they were constrained to venture upon
any they could get, and, among others, they chanced upon an herb
that was mortal, first taking away all sense, and understanding. He
that had eaten of it remembered nothing in the world, and employed
himself only in moving great stones from one place to another,
which he did with as much earnestness and industry as if it had been
a business of the greatest consequence. Through all the camp there
was nothing to be seen but men grubbing upon the ground at
stones, which they carried from place to place. But in the end they
threw up bile and died, as wine, moreover, which was the one anti-
dote, failed. When Antony saw them die so fast, and the Parthian
still in pursuit, he was heard to exclaim several times over, "O, the
Ten Thousand!" as if in admiration of the retreat of the Greeks
with Xenophon, who, when they had a longer journey to make from

358 plutarch's lives

Babylonia, and a more powerful enemy to deal with, nevertheless
came home safe.

The Parthians, finding that they could not divide the Roman
army, nor break the order of their battle, and that withal they had
been so often worsted, once more began to treat the foragers with
professions of humanity; they came up to them with their bows
unbended, telling them that they were going home to their houses;
that this was the end of their retaliation, and that only some Median
troops would follow for two or three days, not with any design to
annoy them, but for the defence of some of the villages further on.
And, saying this, they saluted them and embraced them with a
great show of friendship. This made the Romans full of confidence
again, and Antony, on hearing of it, was more disposed to take the
road through the level country, being told that no water was to be
hoped for on that through the mountains. But while he was pre-
paring thus to do, Mithridates came into the camp, a cousin to
Monxses, of whom we related that he sought refuge with the Ro-
mans, and received in gift from Antony the three cities. Upon his
arrival, he desired somebody might be brought to him that could
speak Syriac or Parthian. One Alexander, of Antioch, a friend of
Antony's was brought to him, to whom the stranger, giving his
name, and mentioning Mona?ses as the person who desired to do
the kindness, put the question, did he see that high range of hills,
pointing at some distance. He told him yes. "It is there," said he,
"the whole Parthian army lie in wait for your passage; for the great
plains come immediately up to them, and they expect that, confiding
in their promises, you will leave the way of the mountains, and take
the level route. It is true that in passing over the mountains you
will suffer the want of water, and the fatigue to which you have
become familiar, but if you pass through the plains, Antony must
expect the fortune of Crassus."

This said, he departed. Antony, in alarm, calling his friends in
council, sent for the Mardian guide, who was of the same opinion.
He told them that, with or without enemies, the want of any certain
track in the plain, and the likelihood of their losing their way, were
quite objection enough; the other route was rough and without
water, but then it was but for a day. Antony, therefore, changing

ANTONY 359

his mind, marched away upon this road that night, commanding
that every one should carry water sufficient for his own use; but
most of them being unprovided with vessels, they made shift with
their helmets, and some with skins. As soon as they started, the
news of it was carried to the Parthians, who followed them, con-
trary to their custom, through the night, and at sunrise attacked
the rear, which was tired with marching and want of sleep, and not
in condition to make any considerable defence. For they had got
through two hundred and forty furlongs that night, and at the end
of such a march to find the enemy at their heels, put them out of
heart. Besides, having to fight for every step of the way increased
their distress from thirst. Those that were in the van came up to a
river, the water of which was extremely cool and clear, but brackish
and medicinal, and, on being drunk, produced immediate pains in
the bowels and a renewed thirst. Of this the Mardian had fore-
warned them, but they could not forbear, and, beating back those
that opposed them, they drank of it. Antony ran from one place
to another, begging they would have a litde patience, that not far
off there was a river of wholesome water, and that the rest of the
way was so difficult for the horse, that the enemy could pursue them
no further; and, saying this, he ordered to sound a retreat to call
those back that were engaged, and commanded the tents should be
set up, that the soldiers might at any rate refresh themselves in
the shade.

But the tents were scarce well put up, and the Parthians begin-
ning, according to their custom, to withdraw, when Mithridates
came again to them, and informed Alexander, with whom he had
before spoken, that he would do well to advise Antony to stay where
he was no longer than needs he must, that, after having refreshed
his troops, he should endeavor with all diligence to gain the next
river, that the Parthians would not cross it, but so far they were
resolved to follow them. Alexander made his report to Antony, who
ordered a quantity of gold plate to be carried to Mithridates, who,
taking as much as he could well hide under his clothes, went his
way. And, upon this advice, Antony, while it was yet day, broke
up his camp, and the whole army marched forward without receiv-
ing any molestation from the Parthians, though that night by their

360 plutarch's lives

own doing was in effect the most wretched and terrible that they
passed. For some of the men began to kill and plunder those whom
they suspected to have any money, ransacked the baggage, and
seized the money there. In the end, they laid hands on Antony's
own equipage, and broke all his rich tables and cups, dividing the
fragments amongst them. Antony, hearing such a noise and such
a stirring to and fro all through the army, the belief prevailing that
the enemy had routed and cut off a portion of the troops, called
for one of his freedmen, then serving as one of his guards, Rhamnus
by name, and made him take an oath that, whenever he should give
him orders, he would run his sword through his body and cut off
his head, that he might not fall alive into the hands of the Parthians,
nor, when dead, be recognized as the general. While he was in this
consternation, and all his friends about him in tears, the Mardian
came up, and gave them all new life. He convinced them, by the
coolness and humidity of the air, which they could feel in breathing
it, that the river which he had spoken of was now not far off, and
the calculation of the time that had been required to reach it came,
he said, to the same result, for the night was almost spent. And,
at the same time, others came with information that all the con-
fusion in the camp proceeded only from their own violence and
robbery among themselves. To compose this tumult, and bring
them again into some order after their distraction, he commanded
the signal to be given for a halt.

Day began to break, and quiet and regularity were just reappear-
ing, when the Parthian arrows began to fly among the rear, and
the light armed troops were ordered out to battle. And, being sec-
onded by the heavy infantry, who covered one another as before
described with their shields, they bravely received the enemy, who
did not think convenient to advance any further, while the van of
the army, marching forward leisurely in this manner came in sight
of the river, and Antony, drawing up the cavalry on the banks to
confront the enemy, first passed over the sick and wounded. And,
by this time, even those who were engaged with the enemy had
opportunity to drink at their ease; for the Parthians, on seeing the
river, unbent their bows, and told the Romans they might pass

ANTONY 361

over freely, and made them great compliments in praise of their
valor. Having crossed without molestation, they rested themselves
awhile, and presently went forward, not giving perfect credit to the
fair words of their enemies. Six days after this last battle, they
arrived at the river Araxes, which divides Media and Armenia, and
seemed, both by its deepness and the violence of the current, to be
very dangerous to pass. A report, also, had crept in amongst them,
that the enemy was in ambush, ready to set upon them as soon as
they should be occupied with their passage. But when they were got
over on the other side, and found themselves in Armenia, just as if
land was now sighted after a storm at sea, they kissed the ground
for joy, shedding tears and embracing each other in their delight.
But taking their journey through a land that abounded in all sorts
of plenty, they ate, after their long want, with that excess of every
thing they met with, that they suffered from dropsies and dysen-
teries.

Here Antony, making a review of his army, found that he had lost
twenty thousand foot and four thousand horse, of which the better
half perished, not by the enemy, but by diseases. Their march was
of twenty-seven days from Phraata, during which they had beaten
the Parthians in eighteen batdes, though with little effect or lasting
result, because of their being so unable to pursue. By which it is
manifest that it was Artavasdes who lost Antony the benefit of the
expedition. For had the sixteen thousand horsemen whom he led
away out of Media, armed in the same style as the Parthians and
accustomed to their manner of fight, been there to follow the pursuit
when the Romans put them to flight, it is impossible they could have
rallied so often after their defeats, and reappeared again as they
did to renew their attacks. For this reason, the whole army was very
earnest with Antony to march into Armenia to take revenge. But
he, with more reflection, forbore to notice the desertion, and con-
tinued all his former courtesies, feeling that the army was wearied
out, and in want of all manner of necessaries. Afterwards, however,
entering Armenia, with invitations and fair promises he prevailed
upon Artavasdes to meet him, when he seized him, bound him, and
carried him to Alexandria, and there led him in a triumph; one of

362 plutarch's lives

the things which most offended the Romans, who felt as if all the
honors and solemn observances of their country were, for Cleo-
patra's sake, handed over to the Egyptians.

This, however, was at an after time. For the present, marching
his army in great haste in the depth of winter through continual
storms of snow, he lost eight thousand of his men, and came with
much diminished numbers to a place called the White Village,
between Sidon and Berytus, on the sea-coast, where he waited for
the arrival of Cleopatra. And, being impatient of the delay she made,
he bethought himself of shortening the time in wine and drunk-
enness, and yet could not endure the tediousness of a meal, but
would start from table and run to see if she were coming. Till at
last she came into port, and brought with her clothes and money
for the soldiers. Though some say that Antony only received the
clothes from her and distributed his own money in her name.

A quarrel presently happened between the king of Media and
Phraates of Parthia, beginning, it is said, about the division of the
booty that was taken from the Romans, and creating great appre-
hension in the Median lest he should lose his kingdom. He sent,
therefore, ambassadors to Antony, with offers of entering into a
confederate war against Phraates. And Antony, full of hopes at
being thus asked, as a favor, to accept that one thing, horse and
archers, the want of which had hindered his beating the Parthians
before, began at once to prepare for a return to Armenia, there to
join the Medes on the Araxes, and begin the war afresh. But Oc-
tavia, in Rome, being desirous to see Antony, asked Caesar's leave to
go to him; which he gave her, not so much, say most authors, to
gratify his sister, as to obtain a fair pretence to begin the war upon
her dishonorable reception. She no sooner arrived at Athens, but by
letters from Antony she was informed of his new expedition, and his
will that she should await him there. And, though she were much
displeased, not being ignorant of the real reason of this usage, yet
she wrote to him to know to what place he would be pleased she
should send the things she had brought with her for his use; for
she had brought clothes for his soldiers, baggage, catde, money, and
presents for his friends and officers, and two thousand chosen sol-
diers sumptuously armed, to form praetorian cohorts. This message

ANTONY 363

was brought from Octavia to Antony by Niger, one of his friends,
who added to it the praises she deserved so well. Cleopatra, feeling
her rival already, as it were, at hand, was seized with fear, lest if
to her noble life and her high alliance, she once could add the charm
of daily habit and affectionate intercourse, she should become irre-
sistible, and be his absolute mistress for ever. So she feigned to be
dying for love of Antony, bringing her body down by slender diet;
when he entered the room, she fixed her eyes upon him in a rapture,
and when he left, seemed to languish and half faint away. She took
great pains that he should see her in tears, and, as soon as he noticed
it, hastily dried them up and turned away, as if it were her wish
that he should know nothing of it. All this was acting while he
prepared for Media; and Cleopatra's creatures were not slow to
forward the design, upbraiding Antony with his unfeeling, hard-
hearted temper, thus letting a woman perish whose soul depended
upon him and him alone. Octavia, it was true, was his wife, and had
been married to him because it was found convenient for the affairs
of her brother that it should be so, and she had the honor of the
title; but Cleopatra, the sovereign queen of many nations, had been
contented with the name of his mistress, nor did she shun or despise
the character whilst she might see him, might live with him, and
enjoy him; if she were bereaved of this, she would not survive the
loss. In fine, they so melted and unmanned him, that, fully believ-
ing she would die if he forsook her, he put of? the war and returned
to Alexandria, deferring his Median expedition until next summer,
though news came of the Parthians being all in confusion with
intestine disputes. Nevertheless, he did some time after go into that
country, and made an alliance with the king of Media, by marriage
of a son of his by Cleopatra to the king's daughter, who was yet
very young; and so returned, with his thoughts taken up about
the civil war.

When Octavia returned from Athens, Caesar, who considered she
had been injuriously treated, commanded her to live in a separate
house; but she refused to leave the house of her husband, and en-
treated him, unless he had already resolved, upon other motives,
to make war with Antony, that he would on her account let it alone;
it would be intolerable to have it said of the two greatest commanders

364 plutarch's lives

in the world, that they had involved the Roman people in a civil
war, the one out of passion for, the other out of resentment about, a
woman. And her behavior proved her words to be sincere. She
remained in Antony's house as if he were at home in it, and took
the noblest and most generous care, not only of his children by her,
but of those by Fulvia also. She received all the friends of Antony
that came to Rome to seek office or upon any business, and did her
utmost to prefer their requests to Caesar; yet this her honorable
deportment did but, without her meaning it, damage the reputa-
tion of Antony; the wrong he did to such a woman made him hated.
Nor was the division he made among his sons at Alexandria less
unpopular; it seemed a theatrical piece of insolence and contempt
of his country. For, assembling the people in the exercise ground,
and causing two golden thrones to be placed on a platform of silver,
the one for him and the other for Cleopatra, and at their feet lower
thrones for their children, he proclaimed Cleopatra queen of Egypt,
Cyprus, Libya, and Ccele-Syria, and with her conjointly Carsarion,
the reputed son of the former Ca?sar, who left Cleopatra with child.
His own sons by Cleopatra were to have the style of kings of kings;
to Alexander he gave Armenia and Media, with Parthia, so soon
as it should be overcome; to Ptolemy, Phoenicia, Syria, and Cilicia.
Alexander was brought out before the people in the Median cos-
tume, the tiara and upright peak, and Ptolemy, in boots and mantle
and Macedonian cap done about with the diadem; for this was the
habit of the successors of Alexander, as the other was of the Medes
and Armenians. And, as soon as they had saluted their parents, the
one was received by a guard of Macedonians, the other by one of
Armenians. Cleopatra was then, as at other times when she ap-
peared in public, dressed in the habit of the goddess Isis, and gave
audience to the people under the name of the New Isis.

Caesar, relating these things in the senate, and often complaining
to the people, excited men's minds against Antony. And Antony
also sent messages of accusation against Caesar. The principal of
his charges were these: first, that he had not made any division with
him of Sicily, which was lately taken from Pompey; secondly, that
he had retained the ships he had lent him for the war; thirdly, that
after deposing Lepidus, their colleague, he had taken for himself

ANTONY 365

the army, governments, and revenues formerly appropriated to him;
and, lastly, that he had parcelled out almost all Italy amongst his
own soldiers, and left nothing for his. Caesar's answer was as fol-
lows: that he had put Lepidus out of government because of his
own misconduct; that what he had got in war he would divide
with Antony, so soon as Antony gave him a share of Armenia; that
Antony's soldiers had no claims in Italy, being in possession of
Media and Parthia, the acquisitions which their brave actions under
their general had added to the Roman empire.

Antony was in Armenia when this answer came to him, and im-
mediately sent Canidius with sixteen legions towards the sea; but
he, in the company of Cleopatra, went to Ephesus, whither ships
were coming in from all quarters to form the navy, consisting, ves-
sels of burden included, of eight hundred vessels, of which Cleo-
patra furnished two hundred, together with twenty thousand talents,
and provision for the whole army during the war. Antony, on the
advice of Domitius and some others, bade Cleopatra return into
Egypt, there to expect the event of the war; but she, dreading some
new reconciliation by Octavia's means, prevailed with Canidius, by
a large sum of money, to speak in her favor with Antony, pointing
out to him that it was not just that one that bore so great a part
in the charge of the war should be robbed of her share of glory in
the carrying it on; nor would it be politic to disoblige the Egyptians,
who were so considerable a part of his naval forces; nor did he see
how she was inferior in prudence to any one of the kings that were
serving with him; she had long governed a great kingdom by her-
self alone, and long lived with him, and gained experience in public
affairs. These arguments (so the fate that destined all to Caesar
would have it), prevailed; and when all their forces had met, they
sailed together to Samos, and held high festivities. For, as it was
ordered that all kings, princes, and governors, all nations and cities
within the limits of Syria, the Maeotid Lake, Armenia, and Illyria,
should bring or cause to be brought all munitions necessary for war,
so was it also proclaimed that all stage-players should make their
appearance at Samos; so that, while pretty nearly the whole world
was filled with groans and lamentations, this one island for some
days resounded with piping and harping, theatres filling, and chor-

366 plutarch's lives

uses playing. Every city sent an ox as its contribution to the sacrifice,
and the kings that accompanied Antony competed who should make
the most magnificent feasts and the greatest presents; and men
began to ask themselves, what would be done to celebrate the vic-
tory, when they went to such an expense of festivity at the opening
of the war.

This over, he gave Priene to his players for a habitation, 10 and set
sail for Athens, where fresh sports and play-acting employed him.
Cleopatra, jealous of the honors Octavia had received at Athens (for
Octavia was much beloved by the Athenians), courted the favor
of the people with all sorts of attentions. The Athenians, in requital,
having decreed her public honors, deputed several of the citizens to
wait upon her at her house; amongst whom went Antony as one, he
being an Athenian citizen, and he it was that made the speech. He
sent orders to Rome to have Octavia removed out of his house. She
left it, we are told, accompanied by all his children, except the eldest
by Fulvia, who was then with his father, weeping and grieving that
she must be looked upon as one of the causes of the war. But the
Romans pitied, not so much her, as Antony himself, and more par-
ticularly those who had seen Cleopatra, whom they could report
to have no way the advantage of Octavia either in youth or in beauty.

The speed and extent of Antony's preparations alarmed Cisar,
who feared he might be forced to fight the decisive battle that sum-
mer. For he wanted many necessaries, and the people grudged very
much to pay the taxes; freemen being called upon to pay a fourth
part of their incomes, and freed slaves an eighth of their property,
so that there were loud outcries against him, and disturbances
throughout all Italy. And this is looked upon as one of the greatest
of Antony's oversights, that he did not then press the war. For he
allowed time at once for Caesar to make his preparations, and for
the commotions to pass over. For while people were having their
money called for, they were mutinous and violent; but, having paid

10 It seems to have been usual for the guild or company of performers in this part
of Asia ("Ionia, as far as the Hellespont"), to have a city of their own, a sort of
headquarters, whence they went out, and where once a year they held a festival of
their own. Formerly, says Strabo, it had been Teos; intestine troubles drove them
thence to Ephesus; king Attalus gave them Myonnesus; and afterwards Lebedus, in
Roman times, a half abandoned town, "Gabiis desertior atque Fidenis vicus" was only
too glad to receive them. Sec Strabo, XIV., 29.

ANTONY 367

it, they held their peace. Titius and Plancus, men of consular dig-
nity and friends to Antony, having been ill used by Cleopatra, whom
they had most resisted in her design of being present in the war,
came over to Ca?sar, and gave information of the contents of An-
tony's will, with which they were acquainted. It was deposited in
the hands of the vestal virgins, who refused to deliver it up, and
sent Carsar word, if he pleased, he should come and seize it himself,
which he did. And, reading it over to himself, he noted those places
that were most for his purpose, and, having summoned the senate,
read them publicly. Many were scandalized at the proceeding, think-
ing it out of reason and equity to call a man to account for what was
not to be until after his death. Caesar specially pressed what Antony
said in his will about his burial; for he had ordered that even if he
died in the city of Rome, his body, after being carried in state
through the forum, should be sent to Cleopatra at Alexandria.
Calvisius, a dependant of Caesar's, urged other charges in connection
with Cleopatra against Antony; that he had given her the library
of Pergamus, containing two hundred thousand distinct volumes;
that at a great banquet, in the presence of many guests, he had risen
up and rubbed her feet, to fulfil some wager or promise; that he had
suffered the Ephesians to salute her as their queen; that he had fre-
quently at the public audience of kings and princes received amor-
ous messages written in tablets made of onyx and crystal, and read
them openly on the tribunal; that when Furnius, a man of great au-
thority and eloquence among the Romans, was pleading, Cleopatra
happening to pass by in her chair, Antony started up and left them in
the middle of their cause, to follow at her side and attend her home.
Calvisius, however, was looked upon as the inventor of most of
these stories. Antony's friends went up and down the city to gain
him credit, and sent one of themselves, Geminius, to him to beg
him to take heed, and not allow himself to be deprived by vote of
his authority, and proclaimed a public enemy to the Roman state.
But Geminius no sooner arrived in Greece but he was looked upon
as one of Octavia's spies; at their suppers he was made a continual
butt for mockery, and was put to sit in the least honorable places;
all which he bore very well, seeking only an occasion of speaking
with Antony. So, at supper, being told to say what business he came

368 plutarch's lives

about, he answered he would keep the rest for a soberer hour, but
one thing he had to say, whether full or fasting, that all would go
well if Cleopatra would return to Egypt. And on Antony show-
ing his anger at it, "You have done well, Geminius," said Cleopatra,
"to tell your secret without being put to the rack." So Geminius,
after a few days, took occasion to make his escape and go to Rome.
Many more of Antony's friends were driven from him by the inso-
lent usage they had from Cleopatra's flatterers, amongst whom were
Marcus Silanus and Dellius the historian. And Dellius says he was
afraid of his life, and that Glaucus, the physician, informed him of
Cleopatra's design against him. She was angry with him for having
said that Antony's friends were served with sour wine, while at
Rome Sarmentus, Caesar's little page (his delicia, as the Romans call
it), drank Falernian."

As soon as Caesar had completed his preparations, he had a decree
made, declaring war on Cleopatra, and depriving Antony of the
authority which he had let a woman exercise in his place. Caesar
added that he had drunk potions that had bereaved him of his
senses, and that the generals they would have to fight with would be
Mardion the eunuch, Pothinus, Iras, Cleopatra's hair-dressing girl,
and Charmion, who were Antony's chief state-councillors.

These prodigies are said to have announced the war. Pisaurum,
where Antony had setded a colony, on the Adriatic sea, was swal-
lowed up by an earthquake; sweat ran from one of the marble
statues of Antony at Alba for many days together, and, though fre-
quently wiped off, did not stop. When he himself was in the city
of Patrae, the temple of Hercules was struck by lightning, and, at
Athens, the figure of Bacchus was torn by a violent wind out of the
Batde of the Giants, and laid flat upon the theatre;" with both which
deities Antony claimed connection, professing to be descended from
Hercules, and from his imitating Bacchus in his way of living hav-

11 Suetonius tells us that it was one of the habitual amusements of Augustus to play
and talk with children of this kind, who were sought out for him chiefly in Syria and
Mauritania. They were specially selected for their smallness; but he had no liking
for dwarfs or deformed children, who were often kept by other great people in Rome
as their playthings, so called, delicto or delicitt, much in the same sense as the pet-
bird of Catullus's mistress, "Passer, delicia- mear puellar."

11 The Battle of the Giants with the Gods was a piece of sculpture in the south wall
of the Acropolis, just above the Dionysiac theatre in the side of the rock underneath.

ANTONY 369

ing received the name of Young Bacchus. The same whirlwind at
Athens also brought down, from amongst many others which were
not disturbed, the colossal statues of Eumenes and Attalus, which
were inscribed with Antony's name. And in Cleopatra's admiral-
galley, which was called the Antonias, a most inauspicious omen
occurred. Some swallows had built in the stern of the galley, but
other swallows came, beat the first away, and destroyed their nests.

When the armaments gathered for the war, Antony had no less
than five hundred ships of war, including numerous galleys of eight
and ten banks of oars, as richly ornamented as if they were meant
for a triumph. He had a hundred thousand foot and twelve thou-
sand horse. He had vassal kings attending, Bocchus of Libya, Tar-
condemus of the Upper Cilicia, Archelaus of Cappadocia, Phila-
delphus of Paphlagonia, Mithridates of Commagene, and Sadalas
of Thrace; all these were with him in person. Out of Pontus Pole-
mon sent him considerable forces, as did also Malchus from Arabia,
Herod the Jew, and Amyntas, king of Lycaonia and Galatia; also
the Median king sent some troops to join him. Cxsar had two
hundred and fifty galleys of war, eighty thousand foot, and horse
about equal to the enemy. Antony's empire extended from Eu-
phrates and Armenia to the Ionian sea and the Illyrians; Carsar's
from Illyria to the westward ocean, and from the ocean all along
the Tuscan and Sicilian sea. Of Africa, Csesar had all the coast
opposite to Italy, Gaul, and Spain, as far as the Pillars of Hercules,
and Antony the provinces from Cyrene to Ethiopia.

But so wholly was he now the mere appendage to the person of
Cleopatra, that, although he was much superior to the enemy in
land-forces, yet, out of complaisance to his mistress, he wished the
victory to be gained by sea, and that, too, when he could not but
see how, for want of sailors, his captains, all through unhappy
Greece, were pressing every description of men, common travellers
and ass-drivers, harvest laborers, and boys, and for all this the vessels
had not their complements, but remained, most of them, ill-manned
and badly rowed. Caesar, on the other side, had ships that were
built not for size or show, but for service, not pompous galleys, but
light, swift, and perfectly manned; and from his headquarters at
Tarentum and Brundusium he sent messages to Antony not to

370 PLUTARCH S LIVES

protract the war, but come out with his forces; he would give him
secure roadsteads and ports for his fleet, and, for his land army to
disembark and pitch their camp, he would leave him as much
ground in Italy, inland from the sea, as a horse could traverse in a
single course. Antony, on the other side, with the like bold language,
challenged him to a single combat, though he were much the older;
and, that being refused, proposed to meet him in the Pharsalian
fields, where Caesar and Pompey had fought before. But whilst
Antony lay with his fleet near Actium, where now stands Nicopolis,
Caesar seized his opportunity and crossed the Ionian sea, securing
himself at a place in Epirus called the Ladle." And when those about
Antony were much disturbed, their land-forces being a good way
off, "Indeed," said Cleopatra, in mockery, "we may well be fright-
ened if Caesar has got hold of the Ladle!"

On the morrow, Antony, seeing the enemy sailing up, and fear-
ing lest his ships might be taken for want of the soldiers to go on
board of them, armed all the rowers, and made a show upon the decks
of being in readiness to fight; the oars were mounted as if waiting
to be put in motion, and the vessels themselves drawn up to face
the enemy on either side of the channel of Actium, as though they
were properly manned, and ready for an engagement. And Caesar,
deceived by this stratagem, retired. He was also thought to have
shown considerable skill in cutting off the water from the enemy
by some lines of trenches and forts, water not being plentiful any-
where else, nor very good. And again, his conduct to Domitius was
generous, much against the will of Cleopatra. For when he had
made his escape in a little boat to Caesar, having then a fever upon
him, although Antony could not but resent it highly, yet he sent
after him his whole equipage, with his friends and servants; and
Domitius, as if he would give a testimony to the world how repent-
ant he had become on his desertion and treachery being thus mani-
fest, died soon after. Among the kings also, Amyntas and Deiotarus
went over to Caesar. And the fleet was so unfortunate in every thing
that was undertaken, and so unready on every occasion, that Antony
was driven again to put his confidence in the land-forces. Canidius,
too, who commanded the legions, when he saw how things stood,
13 Toryne is the name which has this meaning.

ANTONY 371

changed his opinion, and now was of advice that Cleopatra should
be sent back, and that, retiring into Thrace or Macedonia, the quar-
rel should be decided in a land fight. For Dicomes, also, the king
of the Getac, promised to come and join him with a great army,
and it would not be any kind of disparagement to him to yield the
sea to Csesar, who, in the Sicilian wars, had had such long practice
in ship-fighting; on the contrary, it would be simply ridiculous for
Antony, who was by land the most experienced commander living,
to make no use of his well-disciplined and numerous infantry, scatter-
ing and wasting his forces by parcelling them out in the ships. But
for all this, Cleopatra prevailed that a sea-fight should determine all,
having already an eye to flight, and ordering all her affairs, not so
as to assist in gaining a victory, but to escape with the greatest safety
from the first commencement of a defeat.

There were two long walls, extending from the camp to the sta-
tion of the ships, between which Antony used to pass to and fro
without suspecting any danger. But Caesar, upon the suggestion of
a servant that it would not be difficult to surprise him, laid an am-
bush, which, rising up somewhat too hastily, seized the man that
came just before him, he himself escaping narrowly by flight.

When it was resolved to stand to a fight at sea, they set fire to all
the Egyptian ships except sixty; and of these the best and largest,
from ten banks down to three, he manned with twenty thousand
full-armed men, and two thousand archers. Here it is related that
a foot captain, one that had fought often under Antony, and had
his body all mangled with wounds, exclaimed, "O, my general,
what have our wounds and swords done to displease you, that you
should give your confidence to rotten timbers? Let Egyptians and
Phoenicians contend at sea, give us the land, where we know well
how to die upon the spot or gain the victory." To which he
answered nothing, but, by his look and motion of his hand seem-
ing to bid him be of good courage, passed forwards, having already,
it would seem, no very sure hopes, since when the masters proposed
leaving the sails behind them, he commanded they should be put
aboard, "For we must not," said he, "let one enemy escape."

That day and the three following the sea was so rough they could
not engage. But on the fifth there was a calm, and they fought;

372 plutarch's lives

Antony commanding with Publicola the right, and Ccelius the left
squadron, Marcus Octavius and Marcus Instelus the centre. Caesar
gave the charge of the left to Agrippa, commanding in person on
the right. As for the land-forces, Canidius was general for Antony,
Taurus for Caesar; both armies remaining drawn up in order along
the shore. Antony in a small boat went from one ship to another,
encouraging his soldiers, and bidding them stand firm, and fight as
steadily on their large ships as if they were on land. The masters
he ordered that they should receive the enemy lying still as if they
were at anchor, and maintain the entrance of the port, which was a
narrow and difficult passage. Of Caesar they relate, that, leaving his
tent and going round, while it was yet dark, to visit the ships, he
met a man driving an ass, and asked him his name. He answered
him that his own name was "Fortunate, and my ass," says he, "is
called Conquerer." u And afterwards, when he disposed the beaks
of the ships in that place in token of his victory, the statue of this
man and his ass in bronze were placed amongst them. After exam-
ining the rest of his fleet, he went in a boat to the right wing, and
looked with much admiration at the enemy lying perfectly still in
the straits, in all appearance as if they had been at anchor. For
some considerable length of time he actually thought they were so,
and kept his own ships at rest, at a distance of about eight furlongs
from them. But about noon a breeze sprang up from the sea, and
Antony's men, weary of expecting the enemy so long, and trusting
to their large tall vessels, as if they had been invincible, began to ad-
vance the left squadron. Caesar was overjoyed to see them move, and
ordered his own right squadron to retire, that he might entice them
out to sea as far as he could, his design being to sail round and
round, and so with his light and well-manned galleys to attack
these huge vessels, which their size and their want of men made
slow to move and difficult to manage.

When they engaged, there was no charging or striking of one
ship by another, because Antony's, by reason of their great bulk,
were incapable of the rapidity required to make the stroke effectual,
and, on the other side, Caesar's durst not charge head to head on
Antony's, which were all armed with solid masses and spikes of
14 Eutychus the name of the man, and Nicon that of the ass.

ANTONY 373

brass; nor did they like even to run in on their sides, which were so
strongly built with great squared pieces of timber, fastened together
with iron bolts, that their vessels' beaks would easily have been
shattered upon them. So that the engagement resembled a land
fight, or, to speak yet more properly, the attack and defence of a
fortified place; for there were always three or four vessels of Caesar's
about one of Antony's, pressing them with spears, javelins, poles,
and several inventions of fire, which they flung among them, An-
tony's men using catapults also, to pour down missiles from wooden
towers. Agrippa drawing out the squadron under his command to
outflank the enemy, Publicola was obliged to observe his motions,
and gradually to break off from the middle squadron, where some
confusion and alarm ensued, while Arruntius 15 engaged them. But
the fortune of the day was still undecided, and the battle equal,
when on a sudden Cleopatra's sixty ships were seen hoisting sail and
making out to sea in full flight, right through the ships that were
engaged. For they were placed behind the great ships, which, in
breaking through, they put into disorder. The enemy was aston-
ished to see them sailing off with a fair wind towards Peloponnesus.
Here it was that Antony showed to all the world that he was no
longer actuated by the thoughts and motives of a commander or a
man, or indeed by his own judgment at all, and what was once said
as a jest, that the soul of a lover lives in some one else's body, he
proved to be a serious truth. For, as if he had been born part of
her, and must move with her wheresoever she went, as soon as he
saw her ship sailing away, he abandoned all that were fighting and
spending their lives for him, and put himself aboard a galley of
five ranks of oars, taking with him only Alexander of Syria and
Scellias, to follow her that had so well begun his ruin and would
hereafter accomplish it.

She, perceiving him to follow, gave the signal to come aboard.
So, as soon as he came up with them, he was taken into the ship.
But without seeing her or letting himself be seen by her, he went
forward by himself, and sat alone, without a word, in the ship's
prow, covering his face with his two hands. In the meanwhile,
some of Catsar's light Liburnian ships, that were in pursuit, came

15 Arruntius commanded in Czsar's centre.

374 PLUTARCH S LIVES

in sight. But on Antony's commanding to face about, they all gave
back except Eurycles the Laconian, who pressed on, shaking a
lance from the deck, as if he meant to hurl it at him. Antony, stand-
ing at the prow, demanded of him, "Who is this that pursues An-
tony?" "I am," said he, "Eurycles, the son of Lachares, armed with
Caesar's fortune to revenge my father's death." Lachares had been
condemned for a robbery, and beheaded by Antony's orders. How-
ever, Eurycles did not attack Antony, but ran with his full force
upon the other admiral-galley (for there were two of them), and
with the blow turned her round, and took both her and another
ship, in which was a quantity of rich plate and furniture. So soon
as Eurycles was gone, Antony returned to his posture, and sate
silent, and thus he remained for three days, either in anger with
Cleopatra, or wishing not to upbraid her, at the end of which they
touched at Taenarus. Here the women of their company succeeded
first in bringing them to speak, and afterwards to eat and sleep to-
gether. And, by this time, several of the ships of burden and some
of his friends began to come in to him from the rout, bringing news
of his fleet's being quite destroyed, but that the land-forces, they
thought, still stood firm. So that he sent messengers to Canidius to
march the army with all speed through Macedonia into Asia. And,
designing himself to go from Taenarus into Africa, he gave one of
the merchant ships, laden with a large sum of money, and vessels of
silver and gold of great value, belonging to the royal collections, to
his friends, desiring them to share it amongst them, and provide for
their own safety. They refusing his kindness with tears in their
eyes, he comforted them with all the goodness and humanity
imaginable, entreating them to leave him, and wrote letters in their
behalf to Theophilus, his steward, at Corinth, that he would pro-
vide for their security, and keep them concealed till such time as
they could make their peace with Caesar. This Theophilus was the
father of Hipparchus, who had such interest with Antony, who was
the first of all his freedmen that went over to Caesar, and who settled
afterwards at Corinth. In this posture were affairs with Antony.

But at Actium, his fleet, after a long resistance to Caesar, and suf-
fering the most damage from a heavy sea that set in right ahead,

ANTONY 375

scarcely, at four in the afternoon, gave up the contest, with the loss
of not more than five thousand men killed, but of three hundred
ships taken, as Carsar himself has recorded. Only few had known
of Antony's flight; and those who were told of it could not at first
give any belief to so incredible a thing, as that a general who had
nineteen entire legions and twelve thousand horse upon the sea-
shore, could abandon all and fly away; and he, above all, who had
so often experienced both good and evil fortune, and had in a thou-
sand wars and battles been inured to changes. His soldiers, how-
ever, would not give up their desires and expectations, still fancying
he would appear from some part or other, and showed such a gen-
erous fidelity to his service, that, when they were thoroughly assured
that he was fled in earnest, they kept themselves in a body seven
days, making no account of the messages that Caesar sent to them.
But at last, seeing that Canidius himself, who commanded them,
was fled from the camp by night, and that all their officers had quite
abandoned them, they gave way, and made their submission to the
conqueror. After this, Caesar set sail for Athens, where he made
a settlement with Greece, and distributed what remained of the
provision of corn that Antony had made for his army among the
cities, which were in a miserable condition, despoiled of their
money, their slaves, their horses, and beasts of service. My great-
grandfather Nicarchus used to relate, that the whole body of the
people of our city were put in requisition to carry each one a cer-
tain measure of corn upon their shoulders to the sea-side near Anti-
cyra, men standing by to quicken them with the lash. They had
made one journey of the kind, but when they had just measured out
the corn and were putting it on their backs for a second, news came
of Antony's defeat, and so saved Chaeronea, for all Antony's pur-
veyors and soldiers fled upon the news, and left them to divide the
corn among themselves.

When Antony came into Africa, he sent on Cleopatra from Parae-
tonium into Egypt, and staid himself in the most entire solitude that
he could desire, roaming and wandering about with only two
friends, one a Greek, Aristocrates, a rhetorician, and the other a
Roman, Lucilius, of whom we have elsewhere spoken, how, at

376 Plutarch's lives

Philippi, to give Brutus time to escape, he suffered himself to be
taken by the pursuers, pretending he was Brutus. Antony gave him
his life, and on this account he remained true and faithful to him
to the last.

But when also the officer who commanded for him in Africa, to
whose care he had committed all his forces there, took them over to
Caesar, he resolved to kill himself, but was hindered by his friends.
And coming to Alexandria, he found Cleopatra busied in a most
bold and wonderful enterprise. Over the small space of land which
divides the Red Sea from the sea near Egypt, which may be con-
sidered also the boundary between Asia and Africa, and in the nar-
rowest place is not much above three hundred furlongs across, over
this neck of land Cleopatra had formed a project of dragging her
fleet, and setting it afloat in the Arabian Gulf, thus with her soldiers
and her treasure to secure herself a home on the other side, where
she might live in peace, far away from war and slavery. But the
first galleys which were carried over being burnt by the Arabians
of Petra, and Antony not knowing but that the army before Actium
still held together, she desisted from her enterprise, and gave orders
for the fortifying all the approaches to Egypt. But Antony, leaving
the city and the conversation of his friends, built him a dwelling-
place in the water, near Pharos, upon a little mole which he cast
up in the sea, and there, secluding himself from the company of
mankind, said he desired nothing but to live the life of Timon; as,
indeed, his case was the same, and the ingratitude and injuries
which he suffered from those he had esteemed his friends, made him
hate and mistrust all mankind.

This Timon was a citizen of Athens, and lived much about the
Peloponnesian war, as may be seen by the comedies of Aristophanes
and Plato, in which he is ridiculed as the hater and enemy of man-
kind. He avoided and repelled the approaches of every one, but
embraced with kisses and the greatest show of affection Alcibiades,
then in his hot youth. And when Apemantus was astonished, and
demanded the reason, he replied that he knew this young man
would one day do infinite mischief to the Athenians. He never ad-
mitted any one into his company, except at times this Apemantus,
who was of the same sort of temper, and was an imitator of his way

ANTONY 377

of life. At the celebration of the festival of flagons, 16 these two kept
the feast together, and Apemantus saying to him, "What a pleasant
party, Timon!" "It would be," he answered, "if you were away."
One day he got up in a full assembly on the speaker's place, and
when there was a dead silence and great wonder at so unusual a
sight, he said, "Ye men of Athens, I have a little plot of ground,
and in it grows a fig-tree, on which many citizens have been pleased
to hang themselves; and now, having resolved to build in that place,
I wished to announce it publicly, that any of you who may be de-
sirous may go and hang yourselves before I cut it down." He died
and was buried at Halac, near the sea, where it so happened that,
after his burial, a land-slip took place on the point of the shore, and
the sea, flowing in, surrounded his tomb, and made it inaccessible
to the foot of man. It bore this inscription: —

"Here am I laid, my life of misery done.
Ask not my name, I curse you every one."

And this epitaph was made by himself while yet alive; that which
is more generally known is by Callimachus: —

"Timon, the misanthrope, am I below.
Go, and revile me, traveller, only go."

Thus much of Timon, of whom much more might be said.
Canidius now came, bringing word in person of the loss of the
army before Actium. Then he received news that Herod of Judaea
was gone over to Carsar with some legions and cohorts, and that the
other kings and princes were in like manner deserting him, and
that, out of Egypt, nothing stood by him. All this, however, seemed
not to disturb him, but as if he were glad to put away all hope, that
with it he might be rid of care, and leaving his habitation by the
sea, which he called the Timoneum, he was received by Cleopatra in
the palace, and set the whole city in to a course of feasting, drink-
ing, and presents. The son of Caesar and Cleopatra was registered
among the youths, and Antyllus, his own son by Fulvia, received the
gown without the purple border, given to those that are come of

16 "The Flapons," or Choes, was the second day of the Anthcsterian feast of Bac-
chus, and was observed by the Athenians as a special day of conviviality, when they
met in parties, and drank together.

378 plutarch's lives

age; in honor of which the citizens of Alexandria did nothing but
feast and revel for many days. They themselves broke up the Order
of the Inimitable Livers, and constituted another in its place, not
inferior in splendor, luxury, and sumptuosity, calling it that of the
Diers together." For all those that said they would die with Antony
and Cleopatra gave in their names, for the present passing their
time in all manner of pleasures, and a regular succession of banquets.
But Cleopatra was busied in making a collection of all varieties of
poisonous drugs, and, in order to see which of them were the least
painful in the operation, she had them tried upon prisoners con-
demned to die. But, finding that the quick poisons always worked
with sharp pains, and that the less painful were slow, she next tried
venomous animals, and watched with her own eyes whilst they
were applied,one creature to the body of another. This was her daily
practice, and she pretty well satisfied herself that nothing was com-
parable to the bite of the asp, which, without convulsion or groaning,
brought on a heavy drowsiness and lethargy, with a gende sweat on
the face, the senses being stupefied by degrees; the patient, in appear-
ance, being sensible of no pain, but rather troubled to be disturbed
or awakened, like those that are in a profound natural sleep.

At the same time, they sent ambassadors to Caesar into Asia,
Cleopatra asking for the kingdom of Egypt for her children, and
Antony, that he might have leave to live as a private man in Egypt,
or, if that were thought too much, that he might retire to Athens.
In lack of friends, so many having deserted, and others not being
trusted, Euphronius, his son's tutor, was sent on this embassy. For
Alexas of Laodicea, who, by the recommendation of Timagenes,
became acquainted with Antony at Rome, and had been more
powerful with him than any Greek, and was, of all the instruments
which Cleopatra made use of to persuade Antony, the most violent,
and the chief subverted of any good thoughts that, from time to
time, might rise in his mind in Octavia's favor, had been sent before
to dissuade Herod from desertion; but, betraying his master, stayed
with him, and, confiding in Herod's interest, had the boldness to
come into Caesar's presence. Herod, however, was not able to help

17 It was a name well known on the stage. There were two, if not three, comedies,
called the Synapothneskpntcs, and one of them had been translated into Latin by
Plautus, as the Commorients.

ANTONY 379

him, for he was immediately put in chains, and sent into his own
country, where, by Carsar's order, he was put to death. This reward
of his treason Alexas received while Antony was yet alive.

Cxsar would not listen to any proposals for Antony, but he made
answer to Cleopatra, that there was no reasonable favor which she
might not expect, if she put Antony to death, or expelled him from
Egypt. He sent back with the ambassadors his own freedman
Thyrsus, a man of understanding, and not at all ill-qualified for
conveying the messages of a youthful general to a woman so proud
of her charms and possessed with the opinion of the power of her
beauty. But by the long audiences he received from her, and the
special honors which she paid him, Antony's jealousy began to be
awakened; he had him seized, whipped, and sent back; writing
Cxsar word that the man's busy, impertinent ways had provoked
him; in his circumstances he could not be expected to be very
patient: "But if it offend you," he added, "you have got my freed-
man, Hipparchus, with you; hang him up and scourge him to
make us even." But Cleopatra, after this, to clear herself, and to
allay his jealousies, paid him all the attentions imaginable. When
her own birthday came, she kept it as was suitable to their fallen
fortunes; but his was observed with the utmost prodigality of
splendor and magnificence, so that many of the guests sate down in
want, and went home wealthy men. Meantime, continual letters
came to Cxsar from Agrippa, telling him his presence was extremely
required at Rome.

And so the war was deferred for a season. But, the winter being
over, he began his march; he himself by Syria, and his captains
through Africa. Pelusium being taken, there went a report as if it
had been delivered up to Caesar by Seleucus, not without the con-
sent of Cleopatra; but she, to justify herself, gave up into Antony's
hands the wife and children of Seleucus to be put to death. She had
caused to be built, joining to the temple of Isis, several tombs and
monuments of wonderful height, and very remarkable for the work-
manship; thither she removed her treasure, her gold, silver, emeralds,
pearls, ebony, ivory, cinnamon, and, after all, a great quantity of
torchwood and tow. Upon which Caesar began to fear lest she
should, in a desperate fit, set all these riches on fire; and, therefore,

380 plutarch's lives

while he was marching towards the city with his army, he omitted
no occasion of giving her new assurances of his good intentions.
He took up his position in the Hippodrome, where Antony made a
fierce sally upon him, routed his horse, and beat them back into
their trenches, and so returned with great satisfaction to the palace,
where, meeting Cleopatra, armed as he was, he kissed her, and
commended to her favor one of his men, who had most signalized
himself in the fight, to whom she made a present of a breastplate
and helmet of gold; which he having received, went that very night
and deserted to Caesar.

After this, Antony sent a new challenge to Caesar, to fight him
hand to hand; who made him answer that he might find several
other ways to end his life; and he, considering with himself that
he could not die more honorably than in battle, resolved to make an
effort both by land and sea. At supper, it is said, he bade his servants
help him freely, and pour him out wine plentifully, since to-morrow,
perhaps, they should not do the same, but be servants to a new
master, whilst he should lie on the ground, a dead corpse, and
nothing. His friends that were about him wept to hear him talk so;
which he perceiving, told them he would not lead them to a batde
in which he expected rather an honorable death than either safety
or victory. That night, it is related, about the middle of it, when
the whole city was in a deep silence and general sadness, expecting
the event of the next day, on a sudden was heard the sound of all
sorts of instruments, and voices singing in tune, and the cry of a
crowd of people shouting and dancing, like a troop of bacchanals
on its way. This tumultuous procession seemed to take its course
right through the middle of the city to the gate nearest the enemy;
here it became loudest, and suddenly passed out. People who
reflected considered this to signify that Bacchus, the god whom
Antony had always made it his study to copy and imitate, had now
forsaken him.

As soon as it was light, he marched his infantry out of the city,
and posted them upon a rising ground, from whence he saw his
fleet make up to the enemy. There he stood in expectation of the
event; but as soon as the fleets came near to one another, his men
saluted Caesar's with their oars; and, on their responding, the whole

ANTONY 381

body of the ships, forming into a single fleet, rowed up direct to the
city. Antony had no sooner seen this, but the horse deserted him,
and went over to Caesar; and his foot being defeated, he retired into
the city, crying out that Cleopatra had betrayed him to the enemies
he had made for her sake. She, being afraid lest in his fury and
despair he might do her a mischief, fled to her monument, and
letting down the falling doors, which were strong with bars and
bolts, she sent messengers who should tell Antony she was dead.
He, believing it, cried out, "Now, Antony, why delay longer? Fate
has snatched away the only pretext for which you could say you
desired yet to live." Going into his chamber, and there loosening
and opening his coat of armor, "I am not," said he, "troubled, Cleo-
patra, to be at present bereaved of you, for I shall soon be with you;
but it distresses me that so great a general should be found of a
tardier courage than a woman." He had a faithful servant, whose
name was Eros; he had engaged him formerly to kill him when he
should think it necessary, and now he put him to his promise. Eros
drew his sword, as designing to kill him, but, suddenly turning
round, he slew himself. And as he fell dead at his feet, "It is well
done, Eros," said Antony; "you show your master how to do what
you had not the heart to do yourself;" and so he ran himself into
the belly, and laid himself upon the couch. The wound, however,
was not immediately mortal; and the flow of blood ceasing when
he lay down, presently he came to himself, and entreated those that
were about him to put him out of his pain; but they all fled out of
the chamber, and left him crying out and struggling, until Diomede,
Cleopatra's secretary, came to him, having orders from her to bring
him into the monument.

When he understood she was alive, he eagerly gave order to the
servants to take him up, and in their arms was carried to the door
of the building. Cleopatra would not open the door, but, looking
from a sort of window, she let down ropes and cords, to which
Antony was fastened; and she and her two women, the only persons
she had allowed to enter the monument, drew him up. Those that
were present say that nothing was ever more sad than this spectacle,
to see Antony, covered all over with blood and just expiring, thus
drawn up, still holding up his hands to her, and lifting up his body

382 plutarch's lives

with the little force he had left. As, indeed, it was no easy task for
the women; and Cleopatra, with all her force, clinging to the rope,
and straining with her head to the ground, with difficulty pulled him
up, while those below encouraged her with their cries, and joined
in all her effort and anxiety. When she had got him up, she laid
him on the bed, tearing all her clothes, which she spread upon him;
and beating her breasts with her hands, lacerating herself, and
disfiguring her own face with the blood from his wounds, she called
him her lord, her husband, her emperor, and seemed to have pretty
nearly forgotten all her own evils, she was so intent upon his mis-
fortunes. Antony, stopping her lamentations as well as he could,
called for wine to drink, either that he was thirsty, or that he
imagined that it might put him the sooner out of pain. When he
had drunk, he advised her to bring her own affairs, so far as might
be honorably done, to a safe conclusion, and that, among all the
friends of Caesar, she should rely on Proculeius; that she should not
pity him in this last turn of fate, but rather rejoice for him in remem-
brance of his past happiness, who had been of all men the most
illustrious and powerful, and, in the end, had fallen not ignobly, a
Roman by a Roman overcome.

Just as he breathed his last, Proculeius arrived from Caesar; for
when Antony gave himself his wound, and was carried in to Cleo-
patra, one of his guards, Dercetaeus, took up Antony's sword and
hid it; and, when he saw his opportunity, stole away to Caesar, and
brought him the first news of Antony's death, and withal showed
him the bloody sword. Caesar, upon this, retired into the inner part
of his tent, and giving some tears to the death of one that had been
nearly allied to him in marriage, his colleague in empire, and com-
panion in so many wars and dangers, he came out to his friends, and,
bringing with him many letters, he read to them with how much
reason and moderation he had always addressed himself to Antony,
and in return what overbearing and arrogant answers he received.
Then he sent Proculeius to use his utmost endeavors to get Cleopatra
alive into his power; for he was afraid of losing a great treasure,
and, besides, she would be no small addition to the glory of his
triumph. She, however, was careful not to put herself in Proculeius's
power; but from within her monument, he standing on the outside

ANTONY 383

of a door, on the level of the ground, which was strongly barred, but
so that they might well enough hear one another's voice, she held
a conference with him; she demanding that her kingdom might be
given to her children, and he bidding her be of good courage, and
trust Caesar for every thing.

Having taken particular notice of the place, he returned to Caesar,
and Gallus was sent to parley with her the second time; who, being
come to the door, on purpose prolonged the conference, while Pro-
culeius fixed his scaling-ladders in the window through which the
women had pulled up Antony. And so entering, with two men to fol-
low him, he went straight down to the door where Cleopatra was dis-
coursing with Gallus. One of the two women who were shut up in
the monument with her cried, out, "Miserable Cleopatra, you are
taken prisoner!" Upon which she turned quick, and, looking at
Proculeius, drew out her dagger, which she had with her to stab her-
self. But Proculeius ran up quickly, and, seizing her with both his
hands, "For shame," said he, "Cleopatra; you wrong yourself and
Caesar much, who would rob him of so fair an occasion of showing
his clemency, and would make the world believe the most gentle of
commanders to be a faithless and implacable enemy." And so,
taking the dagger out of her hand, he also shook her dress to see if
there were any poison hid in it. After this, Caesar sent Epaphroditus,
one of his freedmen, with orders to treat her with all the gentleness
and civility possible, but to take the strictest precautions to keep
her alive.

In the meanwhile, Caesar made his entry into Alexandria with
Areius the philosopher at his side, holding him by the hand and
talking with him; desiring that all his fellow-citizens should see
what honor was paid to him, and should look up to him accordingly
from the very first moment. Then, entering the exercise-ground, he
mounted a platform erected for the purpose, and from thence com-
manded the citizens (who, in great fear and consternation, fell
prostrate at his feet) to stand up, and told them, that he freely ac-
quitted the people of all blame, first, for the sake of Alexander, who
built their city; then, for the city's sake itself, which was so large and
beautiful; and, thirdly, to gratify his friend Areius.

Such great honor did Areius receive from Caesar; and by his inter-

384 plutarch's lives

cession many lives were saved, amongst the rest that of Philostratus,
a man, of all the professors of logic that ever were, the most ready
in extempore speaking, but quite destitute of any right to call him-
self one of the philosophers of the Academy. Caesar, out of disgust
at his character, refused all attention to his entreaties. So, growing
a long, white beard, and dressing himself in black, he followed
behind Areius, shouting out the verse,

"The wise, if they are wise, will save the wise."

Which Caesar hearing, gave him his pardon, to prevent rather any
odium that might attach to Areius, than any harm that Philostratus
might suffer.

Of Antony's children, Antyllus, his son by Fulvia, being betrayed
by his tutor, Theodorus, was put to death; and while the soldiers
were cutting off his head, his tutor contrived to steal a precious
jewel which he wore about his neck, and put it into his pocket,
and afterwards denied the fact, but was convicted and crucified.
Cleopatra's children, with their attendants, had a guard set on them,
and were treated very honorably. Caesarion, who was reputed to be
the son of Caesar the Dictator, was sent by his mother, with a great
sum of money, through ./Ethiopia, to pass into India; but his tutor,
a man named Rhodon, about as honest as Theodorus, persuaded
him to turn back, for that Caesar designed to make him king. Caesar
consulting what was best to be done with him, Areius, we are told
said,

"Too many Ccesars are not well." J*

So, afterwards, when Cleopatra was dead, he was killed.

Many kings and great commanders made petition to Caesar for
the body of Antony, to give him his funeral rites; but he would not
take away his corpse from Cleopatra, by whose hands he was buried
with royal splendor and magnificence, it being granted to her to
employ what she pleased on his funeral. In this extremity of grief

18 A parody on Homer's famous words,

Too many leaders are not well; the way
Is to have one commander to obey,
One king, of Zeus appointed for the tway.

ou\ agathon po/ukaisar;> being a slight variation upon ou\ agathon polukovwic.
Kaisar is the Greek form of Czsar; and Koiran, or Koiranos is a captain or chief.

ANTONY 385

and sorrow, and having inflamed and ulcerated her breasts with
beating them, she fell into a high fever, and was very glad of the
occasion, hoping, under this pretext, to abstain from food, and so to
die in quiet without interference. She had her own physician,
Olympus, to whom she told the truth, and asked his advice and
help to put an end to herself, as Olympus himself has told us, in a
narrative which he wrote of these events. But Carsar, suspecting her
purpose, took to menacing language about her children, and ex-
cited her fears for them, before which engines her purpose shook
and gave way, so that she suffered those about her to give her what
meat or medicine they pleased.

Some few days after, Cxsar himself came to make her a visit and
comfort her. She lay then upon her pallet-bed in undress, and, on
his entering in, sprang up from off her bed, having nothing on but
the one garment next her body, and flung herself at his feet, her
hair and face looking wild and disfigured, her voice quivering, and
her eyes sunk in her head. The marks of the blows she had given
herself were visible about her bosom, and altogether her whole per-
son seemed no less afflicted than her soul. But, for all this, her old
charm, and the boldness of her youthful beauty had not wholly left
her, and, in spite of her present condition, still sparkled from
within, and let itself appear in all the movements of her counte-
nance. Caesar, desiring her to repose herself, sat down by her; and,
on this opportunity, she said something to justify her actions, at-
tributing what she had done to the necessity she was under, and to
her fear of Antony; and when Carsar, on each point, made his ob-
jections, and she found herself confuted, she broke off at once into
language of entreaty and deprecation, as if she desired nothing
more than to prolong her life. And at last, having by her a list of her
treasure, she gave it into his hands; and when Seleucus, one of her
stewards, who was by, pointed out that various articles were omitted,
and charged her with secreting them, she flew up and caught him
by the hair, and struck him several blows on the face. Carsar smiling
and withholding her, "Is it not very hard, Cassar," said she, "when
you do me the honor to visit me in this condition I am in, that I
should be accused by one of my own servants of laying by some
women's toys, not meant to adorn, be sure, my unhappy self, but

386 plutarch's lives

that I might have some little present by me to make your Octavia
and your Livia, that by their intercession I might hope to find you
in some measure disposed to mercy?" Caesar was pleased to hear
her talk thus, being now assured that she was desirous to live. And,
therefore, letting her know that the things she had laid by she
might dispose of as she pleased, and his usage of her should be
honorable above her expectation, he went away, well satisfied that
he had overreached her, but, in fact, was himself deceived.

There was a young man of distinction among Caesar's compan-
ions, named Cornelius Dolabella. He was not without a certain
tenderness for Cleopatra, and sent her word privately, as she had
besought him to do, that Caesar was about to return through Syria,
and that she and her children were to be sent on within three days.
When she understood this, she made her request to Caesar that he
would be pleased to permit her to make oblations to the departed
Antony; which being granted, she ordered herself to be carried to
the place where he was buried, and there, accompanied by her
women, she embraced his tomb with tears in her eyes, and spoke
in this manner: "O, dearest Antony," said she, "it is not long since
that with these hands I buried you; then they were free, now I am
a captive, and pay these last duties to you with a guard upon me, for
fear that my just griefs and sorrows should impair my servile body,
and make it less fit to appear in their triumph over you. No further
offerings or libations expect from me; these are the last honors
that Cleopatra can pay your memory, for she is to be hurried away
far from you. Nothing could part us whilst we lived, but death
seems to threaten to divide us. You, a Roman born, have found a
grave in Egypt; I, an Egyptian, am to seek that favor, and none
but that, in your country. But if the gods below, with whom you
now are, either can or will do any thing (since those above have
betrayed us), suffer not your living wife to be abandoned; let me
not be led in triumph to your shame, but hide me and bury me
here with you, since, amongst all my bitter misfortunes, nothing has
afflicted me like this brief time that I have lived away from you."

Having made these lamentations, crowning the tomb with gar-
lands and kissing it, she gave orders to prepare her a bath, and,

ANTONY 387

coming out of the bath, she lay down and made a sumptuous meal.
And a country fellow brought her a little basket, which the guards
intercepting and asking what it was, the fellow put the leaves which
lay uppermost aside, and showed them it was full of figs; and on
their admiring the largeness and beauty of the figs, he laughed, and
invited them to take some, which they refused, and, suspecting noth-
ing, bade him carry them in. After her repast, Cleopatra sent to
Carsar a letter which she had written and sealed; and, putting every-
body out of the monument but her two women, she shut the doors.
Cxsar, opening her letter, and finding pathetic prayers and en-
treaties that she might be buried in the same tomb with Antony,
soon guessed what was doing. At first he was going himself in all
haste, but, changing his mind, he sent others to see. The thing
had been quickly done. The messengers came at full speed, and
found the guards apprehensive of nothing; but on opening the
doors, they saw her stone-dead, lying upon a bed of gold, set out
in all her royal ornaments. Iras, one of her women, lay dying at
her feet, and Charmion, just ready to fall, scarce able to hold up
her head, was adjusting her mistress's diadem. And when one that
came in said angrily, "Was this well done of your lady, Charmion?"
"Extremely well," she answered, "and as became the descendant of
so many kings"; and as she said this, she fell down dead by the
bedside.

Some relate that an asp was brought in amongst those figs and
covered with the leaves, and that Cleopatra had arranged that it
might settle on her before she knew, but, when she took away some
of the figs and saw it, she said, "So here it is," and held out her bare
arm to be bitten. Others say that it was kept in a vase, and that
she vexed and pricked it with a golden spindle till it seized her
arm. But what really took place is known to no one. Since it was
also said that she carried poison in a hollow bodkin, about which
she wound her hair; yet there was not so much as a spot found,
or any symptom of poison upon her body, nor was the asp seen
within the monument; only something like the trail of it was said
to have been noticed on the sand by the sea, on the part towards
which the building faced and where the windows were. Some relate

388 plutarch's lives

that two faint puncture-marks were found on Cleopatra's arm, and
to this account Caesar seems to have given credit; for in his triumph
there was carried a figure of Cleopatra, with an asp clinging to her.
Such are the various accounts. But Caesar, though much disappointed
by her death, yet could not but admire the greatness of her spirit,
and gave order that her body should be buried by Antony with
royal splendor and magnificence. Her women, also, received honor-
able burial by his directions. Cleopatra had lived nine and thirty
years, during twenty-two of which she had reigned as queen, and
for fourteen had been Antony's partner in his empire. Antony, ac-
cording to some authorities, was fifty-three, according to others,
fifty-six years old. His statues were all thrown down, but those of
Cleopatra were left untouched; for Archibius, one of her friends,
gave Caesar two thousand talents to save them from the fate of
Antony's.

Antony left by his three wives seven children, of whom only
Antyllus, the eldest, was put to death by Caesar; Octavia took the
rest, and brought them up with her own. Cleopatra, his daughter
by Cleopatra, was given in marriage to Juba, the most accomplished
of kings; and Antony, his son by Fulvia, attained such high favor,
that whereas Agrippa was considered to hold the first place with
Caesar, and the sons of Livia the second, the third, without dispute,
was possessed by Antony. Octavia, also, having had by her first
husband, Marcellus, two daughters, and one son named Marcellus,
this son Caesar adopted, and gave him his daughter in marriage;
as did Octavia one of the daughters to Agrippa. But Marcellus
dying almost immediately after his marriage, she, perceiving that
her brother was at a loss to find elsewhere any sure friend to be his
son-in-law, was the first to recommend that Agrippa should put
away her daughter and marry Julia. To this Caesar first, and then
Agrippa himself, gave assent; so Agrippa married Julia, and Oc-
tavia, receiving her daughter, married her to the young Antony.
Of the two daughters whom Octavia had borne to Antony, the one
was married to Domitius Ahenobarbus; and the other, Antonia,
famous for her beauty and discretion, was married to Drusus, the
son of Livia, and step-son to Caesar. Of these parents were born
Germanicus and Claudius. Claudius reigned later; and of the chil-

ANTONY 389

dren of Germanicus, Caius, after a reign of distinction, was killed
with his wife and child; Agrippina, after bearing a son, Lucius
Domitius, to Ahenobarbus, was married to Claudius Caesar, who
adopted Domitius, giving him the name of Nero Germanicus. He
was emperor in our time, and put his mother to death, and with his
madness and folly came not far from ruining the Roman empire,
being Antony's descendant in the fifth generation.