The Boys' and Girls' Plutarch / Being Parts of the "Lives" of Plutarch, Edited for Boys and Girls

Pompey, in the course of his voyage, sailed by Amphipolis, and from thence steered for Mitylene, to take up Cornelia and his son. As soon as he reached the island, he sent a messenger to the town with news far different from what Cornelia expected. For, by the flattering accounts which many officious persons had given her, she understood that the dispute was decided at Dyrrhachium, and that nothing but the pursuit of Caesar remained to be attended to. The messenger, finding her possessed with such hopes, had not power to make the usual salutations; but expressing the greatness of Pompey's misfortunes by his tears rather than words, only told her she must make haste if she had a mind to see Pompey with one ship only, and that not his own.

At this news Cornelia threw herself upon the ground, where she lay a long time insensible and speechless. At last, coming to herself, she perceived there was no time to be lost in tears and lamentations, and therefore hastened through the town to the sea. Pompey ran to meet her, and received her to his arms as she was just going to fall. While she hung upon his neck, she thus addressed him: "I see, my dear husband, your present unhappy condition is the effect of my ill fortune, and not yours. Alas! how are you reduced to one poor vessel, who, before your marriage with Cornelia, traversed the sea with 500 galleys! Why did you come to see me, and not rather leave me to my evil destiny, who have loaded you, too, with such a weight of calamities? How happy had it been for me to have died before I heard that Publius, my first husband, was killed by the Parthians! How wise, had I followed him to the grave, as I once intended! What have I lived for since, but to bring misfortunes upon Pompey the Great?"

Such, we are assured, was the speech of Cornelia; and Pompey answered: "Till this moment, Cornelia, you have experienced nothing but the smiles of fortune; and it was she who deceived you, because she stayed with me longer than she commonly does with her favorites. But, fated as we are, we must bear this reverse, and make another trial of her. For it is no more improbable that we may emerge from this poor condition and rise to great things again, than it was that we should fall from great things into this poor condition."

Cornelia then sent to the city for her most valuable movables and her servants.

As soon as his wife and his friends were embarked, he set sail, and continued his course without touching at any port, except for water and provisions, till he came to Attalia, a city of Pamphylia. There he was joined by some Cilician galleys; and beside picking up a number of soldiers, he found in a little time sixty senators about him. When he was informed that his fleet was still entire, and that Cato was gone to Africa with a considerable body of men which he had collected after their flight, he lamented to his friends his great error, in suffering himself to be forced into an engagement on land, and making no use of those forces, in which he was confessedly stronger; nor even taking care to fight near his fleet, that, in case of his meeting with a check on land, he might have been supplied from the sea with another army, capable of making head against the enemy. Indeed, we find no greater mistake in Pompey's whole conduct, nor a more remarkable instance of Caesar's generalship, than in removing the scene of action to such a distance from the naval force.

However, as it was necessary to undertake something with the small means he had left, he sent to some cities, and sailed to others himself, to raise money, and to get a supply of men for his ships. But knowing the extraordinary celerity of the enemy's motions, he was afraid he might be beforehand with him, and seize all that he was preparing. He, therefore, began to think of retiring to some asylum, and proposed the matter in council. They could not think of any province in the Roman empire that would afford a safe retreat; and when they cast their eyes on the foreign kingdoms, Pompey mentioned Parthia as the most likely to receive and protect them in their present weak condition, and afterwards to send them back with a force sufficient to retrieve their affairs. Others were of opinion it was proper to apply to Africa, and to Juba in particular. But Theophanes of Lesbos observed it was madness to leave Egypt, which was distant but three days' sail. Besides, Ptolemy, who was growing towards manhood, had particular obligations to Pompey on his father's account. As so it was determined that they should seek for refuge in Egypt. Being informed that Ptolemy was with his army at Pelusium, where he was engaged in war with his sister, he proceeded thither, and sent a messenger before him to announce his arrival, and to entreat the king's protection.

Ptolemy was very young, fourteen years of age, and Photinus, his prime minister, called a council of his ablest officers; though their advice had no more weight than he was pleased to allow it. He ordered each, however, to give his opinion. But who can, without indignation, consider that the fate of Pompey the Great was to be determined by the wretch Photinus, by Theodotus, a man of Chios, who was hired to teach the prince rhetoric, and by Achillas, an Egyptian? For among the king's chamberlains and tutors these had the greatest influence over him and were the persons he most consulted. Pompey lay at anchor at some distance from the place waiting the determination of this respectable board; while he thought it beneath him to be indebted to Caesar for his safety. The council were divided in their opinions, some advising the prince to give him an honorable reception, and others to send him an order to depart. But Theodotus, to display his eloquence, insisted that both were wrong. "If you receive him," said he, "you will have Caesar for your enemy, and Pompey for your master. If you order him off, Pompey may one day revenge the affront and Caesar resent your not having put him in his hands: the best method, therefore, is to send for him and put him to death. By this means you will do Caesar a favor, and have nothing to fear from Pompey." He added with a smile, "Dead men do not bite."

This advice being approved of, the execution of it was committed to Achillas. In consequence of which he took with him Septimius, who had formerly been one of Pompey's officers, and Salvius, who had also acted under him as a centurion, with three or four assistants, and made up to Pompey's ship, where his principal friends and officers had assembled to see how the affair went on. When they perceived there was nothing magnificent in their reception, nor suitable to the hopes which Theophanes had conceived, but that a few men only in a fishing-boat came to wait upon them, such want of respect appeared a suspicious circumstance, and they advised Pompey, while he was out of the reach of missive weapons, to get out to the main sea.

Meantime, the boat approaching, Septimius spoke first, addressing Pompey in Latin by the title of Imperator. Then Achillas saluted him in Greek, and desired him to come into the boat, because the water was very shallow towards the shore, and a galley must strike upon the sands. At the same time they saw several of the king's ships getting ready, and the shore covered with troops, so that if they would have changed their minds it was then too late; besides, their distrust would have furnished the assassins with a pretence for their injustice. He therefore embraced Cornelia, who lamented his sad exit before it happened; and ordered two centurions, one of his enfranchised slaves, named Philip, and a servant called Scenes, to get into the boat before him. When Achillas had hold of his hand, and he was going to step in himself, he turned to his wife and son, and repeated that verse of Sophocles—

These were the last words he spoke to them.

As there was a considerable distance between the galley and the shore, and he observed that not a man in the boat showed him the least civility, or even spoke to him, he looked at Septimius, and said, "Methinks, I remember you to have been my fellow-soldier;" but he answered only with a nod, without testifying any regard or friendship. A profound silence again taking place, Pompey took out a paper, in which he had written a speech in Greek that he designed to make to Ptolemy, and amused himself with reading it.

When they approached the shore, Cornelia, with her friends in the galley, watched the event with great anxiety. She was a little encouraged, when she saw a number of the king's great officers coming down to the strand, in all appearance to receive her husband and do him honor. But the moment Pompey was taking hold of Philip's hand, to raise him with more ease, Septimius came behind, and ran him through the body; after which Salvius and Achillas also drew their swords. Pompey took his robe in both hands and covered his face, and without saying or doing the least thing unworthy of him, submitted to his fate, only uttering a groan, while they despatched him with many blows. He was then just fifty-nine years old, for he was killed the day after his birthday.

Cornelia, and her friends in the galley, upon seeing him murdered, gave a shriek that was heard to the shore, and weighed anchor immediately. Their flight was assisted by a brisk gale, as they got out more to sea; so that the Egyptians gave up their design of pursuing them. The murderers having cut off Pompey's head, threw the body out of the boat naked, and left it exposed to all who were desirous of such a sight. Philip stayed till their curiosity was satisfied, and then washed the body with sea-water, and wrapped it in one of his own garments, because he had nothing else at hand. The next thing was to look out for wood for the funeral pile; and casting his eyes over the shore, he spied the old remains of a fishing-boat; which, though not large, would make a sufficient pile for a poor naked body that was not quite entire.

While he was collecting the pieces of plank and putting them together, an old Roman, who had made some of his first campaigns under Pompey, came up and said to Philip, "Who are you that are preparing the funeral of Pompey the Great?" Philip answered, "I am his freedman." "But you shall not," said the old Roman, "have this honor entirely to yourself. As a work of piety offers itself, let me have a share in it; that I may not absolutely repent my having passed so many years in a foreign country; but, to compensate many misfortunes, may have the consolation of doing some of the last honors to the greatest general Rome ever produced." In this manner was the funeral of Pompey conducted.

Such was the end of Pompey the Great. As for Caesar, he arrived not long after in Egypt, which he found in great disorder. When they came to present the head, he turned from it, and the person that brought it, as a sight of horror. He received the seal, but it was with tears. The device was a lion holding a sword. The two assassins, Achillas and Photinus, he put to death; and the king, being defeated in battle, perished in the river. Theodotus, the rhetorician, escaped the vengeance of Caesar, by leaving Egypt; but he wandered about a miserable fugitive, and was hated wherever he went. At last, Marcus Brutus, who killed Caesar, found the wretch, in his province of Asia, and put him to death, after having made him suffer the most exquisite tortures. The ashes of Pompey were carried to Cornelia, who buried them in his lands near Alba. (Langhorne has well remarked that Pompey has, in all appearance, and in all consideration of his character, had less justice done him by historians than any other man of his time. His popular humanity, his military and political skills, his prudence (which he sometimes unfortunately gave up), his natural bravery and generosity, his conjugal virtues, which (though sometimes impeached) were both naturally and morally great; his cause, which was certainly, in its original interests, the cause of Rome; all these circumstances entitled him to a more distinguished and more respectable character than any of his historians have thought proper to afford him.)

THE ENGINES OF ARCHIMEDES FROM THE LIFE OF MARCELLUS

Marcellus now moved with his whole army to Syracuse, and, camping near the wall, proceeded to attack the city both by land and by sea. The land forces were conducted by Appius: Marcellus, with sixty galleys, each with five rows of oars, furnished with all sorts of arms and missiles, and a huge bridge of planks laid upon eight ships chained together, upon which was carried the engine to cast stones and darts, assaulted the walls, relying on the abundance and magnificence of his preparations, and on his own previous glory; all which, however, were, it would seem, but trifles for Archimedes and his machines.

These machines he had designed and contrived, not as matters of any importance, but as mere amusements in geometry; in compliance with King Hiero's desire and request, some little time before, that he should reduce to practice some part of his admirable speculations in science, and by accommodating the theoretical truth to sensation and ordinary use, bring it more within the appreciation of people in general. Eudoxus and Archytas had been the originators of this far-famed and highly prized art of mechanics, which they employed as an elegant illustration of geometrical truths, and as a means of sustaining experimentally, to the satisfaction of the senses, conclusions too intricate for proof by words and diagrams. As, for example, to solve the problem, so often required in constructing geometrical figures, given the two extreme, to find the two mean lines of a proportion, both these mathematicians had recourse to the aid of instruments, adapting to their purpose certain curves and sections of lines. (The 'mesolabes or mesalabium, was the name by which this instrument was commonly known.) But what with Plato's indignation at it, and his invectives against it as the mere corruption and annihilation of the one good of geometry,—which was thus shamefully turning its back upon the unembodied objects of pure intelligence to recur to sensation, and to ask help (not to be obtained without haste subservience and depravation) from matter; so it was that mechanics came to be separated from geometry, and, being repudiated and neglected by philosophers, took its place as a military art. Archimedes, however, in writing to King Hiero, whose friend and near relation he was, had stated, that given the force, any weight might be moved, and even boasted, we are told, relying on the strength of demonstration, that if there were another earth, by going into it he could remove this. Hiero being struck with amazement at this, and entreating him to make good this problem by actual experiment, and show some great weight moved by a small engine, he fixed accordingly upon a ship of burden out of the king's arsenal, which could not be drawn out of the dock without great labor and many men; and, loading her with many passengers and a full freight, sitting himself the while far off, with no great endeavor, but only holding the head of the pulley in his hand and drawing the cord by degrees, he drew the ship in a straight line, as smoothly and evenly as if she had been in the sea. The king, astonished at this, and convinced of the power of the art, prevailed upon Archimedes to make him engines accommodated to all the purposes, offensive and defensive, of a siege. These the king himself never made use of, because he spent almost all his life in a profound quiet, and the highest influence. But the apparatus was, in a most opportune time, ready at hand for the Syracusans, and with it also the engineer himself.

When, therefore, the Romans assaulted the walls in two places at once, fear and consternation stupefied the Syracusans, believing that nothing was able to resist that violence and those forces. But when Archimedes began to ply his engines, he at once shot against the land forces all sorts of missile weapons, and immense masses of stone that came down with incredible noise and violence, against which no man could stand; for they knocked down those upon whom they fell, in heaps, breaking all their ranks and files. In the mean time huge poles thrust out from the walls over the ships, sunk some by the great weights which they let down from on high upon them; others they lifted up into the air by an iron hand or beak like a crane's beak, and, when they had drawn them up by the prow, and set them on end upon the poop, they plunged them to the bottom of the sea; or else the ships, drawn by engines within, and whirled about, were dashed against steep rocks that stood jutting out under the walls, with great destruction of the soldiers that were aboard them. A ship was frequently lifted up to a great height in the air (a dreadful thing to behold), and was rolled to and fro, and kept swinging, until the mariners were all thrown out, when at length it was dashed against the rocks, or let fall. In the meantime, Marcellus himself brought up his engine upon the bridge of ships, which was called "Sambuca," from some resemblance it had to an instrument of music, but while it was as yet approaching the wall, there was discharged at it a piece of rock of ten talents' weight, then a second and a third, which, striking upon it with immense force and with a noise like thunder, broke all its foundations to pieces, shook out all its fastenings, and completely dislodged it from the bridge. So Marcellus, doubtful what counsel to pursue, drew off his ships to a safer distance, and sounded a retreat to his forces on land. They then took a resolution of coming up under the walls, if it were possible, in the night; thinking that as Archimedes used ropes stretched at length in playing his engines, the soldiers would now be under the shot, and the darts would, for want of sufficient distance to throw them, fly over their heads without effect. But he, it appeared, had long before framed for such occasion engines accommodated to any distance, and shorter weapons; and had made numerous small openings in the walls, through which, with engines of a shorter range, unexpected blows were inflicted on the assailants. Thus, when they who thought to deceive the defenders came close up to the walls, instantly a shower of darts and other missile weapons was again cast upon them. And when stones came tumbling down perpendicularly upon their heads, and, as it were, the whole wall shot out arrows at them, they retired. And now, again, as they were going off, arrows and darts of a longer range inflicted a great slaughter among them, and their ships were driven one against another; while they themselves were not able to retaliate in any way; for Archimedes had fixed most of his engines immediately under the wall. The Romans, seeing that infinite mischiefs overwhelmed them from no visible means, began to think they were fighting with the gods.

Yet Marcellus escaped unhurt, and, deriding his own artificers and engineers, exclaimed "What! Must we give up fighting with this geometrical Briareus, who plays pitch and toss with our ships, and, with the multitude of darts which he showers at a single moment upon us, really outdoes the hundred-handed giants of mythology?" The rest of the Syracusans were but the body of Archimedes' designs, one soul moving and governing all; for, laying aside all other arms, with his alone they infested the Romans, and protected themselves. In fine, when such terror had seized upon the Romans, that, if they did but see a little rope or a piece of wood from the wall, they instantly cried out, "There it is again! Archimedes is about to let fly another engine at us," and turned their backs and fled, Marcellus desisted from conflicts and assaults, putting all his hope in a long siege. Yet Archimedes possessed so high a spirit, so profound a soul, and such treasures of scientific knowledge, that though these inventions had now obtained him the renown of more than human sagacity, he yet would not deign to leave behind him any commentary or writing on such subjects; but, repudiating as sordid and ignoble the whole trade of engineering, and every sort of art that lends itself to mere use and profit, he placed his whole affection and ambition in those purer speculations where there can be no reference to the vulgar needs of life; studies, the superiority of which to all others is unquestioned, and in which the only doubt can be, whether the beauty and grandeur of the subjects examined, or the precision and cogency of the methods and means of proof, most deserve our admiration. It is not possible to find in all geometry more difficult and intricate questions, or more simple and lucid explanations. Some ascribe this to his natural genius; while others think that incredible effort and toil produced these apparently easy and unlabored results. No amount of investigation of yours would succeed in attaining the proof, and yet, once seen, you immediately believe you would have discovered it; by so smooth and so rapid a path he leads you to the conclusion required. And thus it ceases to be incredible that (as is commonly told of him), the charm of his familiar and domestic Siren made him forget his food and neglect his person, to such a degree that when he was occasionally carried by absolute violence to bathe, or have his body anointed, he used to trace geometrical figures in the ashes of the fire, and diagrams in the oil on his body, being in a state of entire preoccupation, and, in the truest sense, divinely possessed with his love and delight in science. His discoveries were numerous and admirable; and he is said to have requested his friends and relations that when he was dead, they would place over his tomb a cylinder containing a sphere, inscribing it with the ratio of three to two which the containing solid bears to the contained.

DESCRIPTION OF CLEOPATRA FROM THE LIFE OF ANTONY

When Antony was making preparation for the Parthian war, he sent to command Cleopatra to make her personal appearance in Cilicia, to answer the accusation, that she had given great assistance, in the late wars, to Cassius. Dellius, who was sent on this message, had no sooner seen her face, and remarked her adroitness and subtlety in speech, than he felt convinced that Antony would not so much as think of giving any molestation to a woman like this; on the contrary, she would be the first in favor with him. So he set himself at once to pay his court to the Egyptia, and gave her his advice, "to go," in the Homeric style, to Cilicia, "in her best attire," and bade her fear nothing from Antony, the gentlest and the kindest of soldiers. She had some faith in the words of Dellius, but more in her own attractions, which, having formerly recommended her to Caesar and the young Gnaeus 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, for she was now about twenty-eight years of age. 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 paid no attention to these orders; and at last, as if in mockery of them, she came sailing up the river Cydnus, in a barge with gilded stern and outspread sails of purple, while oars of silver beat time to the music of flutes and fifes and harps. She herself lay stretched 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 had come to feast with Bacchus, for the common good of Asia. On her arrival, Antony sent to invite her to supper. She thought it fitter he should come to her; so, willing to show his good-humor and courtesy, he complied, and went. He found the preparations to receive him magnificent beyond expression, but nothing so admirable as the great number of lights; for on a sudden there were let down all together so great numbers of branches with lights in them so ingeniously disposed, some in squares, and some in circles, that the whole thing was a spectacle that has seldom been equaled for beauty.

The next day, Antony invited her to supper, and was very desirous to outdo her as well in magnificence as contrivance; but he found he was altogether beaten in both, and was so well convinced of it, that he was himself the first to jest and mock at his poverty of wit, and his rustic awkwardness. She, perceiving that his raillery was broad and gross, and savored more of the soldier than the courtier, rejoined in the same taste, and fell into it at once, without any sort of reluctance or reserve. For her actual beauty, it is said, was not in itself so remarkable that none could be compared with her, or that no one could see her without being struck by it, but the contact of her presence, if you lived with her, was irresistible; the attraction of her person, joining with the charm of her conversation, and the character that attended all she said or did, was something bewitching. It was a pleasure merely to hear the sound of her voice, with which, like an instrument of many strings, she could pass from one language to another; so that there were few of the barbarian nations that she answered by an interpreter; to most of them she spoke herself, as to the Aethiopians, Troglodytes, Hebrews, Arabians, Syrians, Medes, Parthians, and many others, whose language she had learnt; which was all the more surprising, because most of the kings her predecessors scarcely gave themselves the trouble to acquire the Egyptian tongue, and several of them quite abandoned the Macedonian.

Antony was so captivated by her that, leaving his troops assembled in Mesopotamia, and ready to enter Syria, he suffered himself to be carried away by her to Alexandria, there to keep holiday, like a boy, in play and diversion, squandering and fooling away in enjoyments that most costly, as Antiphon says, of all valuable, time. They had a sort of company, to which they gave a particular name, calling it that of the "Inimitable Livers." The members entertained one another daily in turn, with an extravagance of expenditure beyond measure or belief. Philotas, a physician of Amphissa, who was at that time a student of medicine in Alexandria, used to tell my grandfather, Lamprias, that, having some acquaintance with one of the royal cooks, he was invited by him, being a young man, to come and see the sumptuous preparations for supper. So he was taken into the kitchen, where he admired the prodigious variety of all things; but particularly, seeing eight wild boars roasting whole, he exclaimed, "Surely you have a great number of guests." The cook laughed at his simplicity, and told him there were not more than twelve to sup, but that every dish was to be served up just roasted to a turn, and if anything was but one minute ill-timed, it was spoiled; "And," said he, "maybe Antony will sup just now, maybe not this hour, maybe he will call for wine, or begin to talk, and will put it off. So that," he continued, "not one, but many suppers must be had in readiness, as it impossible to guess at his hour."

Plato admits four sorts of flattery, but Cleopatra had a thousand. Were Antony serious or disposed to mirth, she had at any moment some new delight or charm to meet his wishes. She played at dice with him, drank with him, hunted with him; and when he exercised in arms, she was there to see. At night she would go rambling with him to disturb and torment people at their doors and windows, dressed like a servant-woman, for Antony also went in servant's disguise, and from these expeditions he often came home very scurvily answered, and sometimes even beaten severely, though most people guessed who it was. It would be trifling without end to be particular in his follies, but his fishing must not be forgotten. He went out one day to angle with Cleopatra, and, being so unfortunate as to catch nothing in the presence of the queen, he gave secret orders to the fishermen to dive under water, and put fishes that had been already taken upon his hooks; and these he drew so fast that the Egyptian perceived it. But, feigning great admiration, she told everybody how dexterous Antony was, and invited them next day to come and see him again. So, when a number of them had come on board the fishing boats, as soon as he had let down his hook, one of her servants was beforehand with his divers, and fixed upon his hook a salted fish from Pontus. Antony, feeling his line give, drew up the prey, and when, as may be imagined, great laughter ensued, Cleopatra said, "Leave the fishing-rod, general, to us poor sovereigns of Pharos and Canopus; your game is cities, provinces, and kingdoms."

ANECDOTES FROM THE LIFE OF AGESILAUS, KING OF SPARTA

Agesilaus is said to have been a little man, of a contemptible presence; but the goodness of his humor, and his constant cheerfulness and playfulness of temper, always free from anything of moroseness or haughtiness, made him more attractive, even to his old age, than the most beautiful and youthful men of the nation. Theophrastus writes, that the Ephors laid a fine upon Archidamus for marrying a little wife, "For," said they, "she will bring us a race of kinglets, instead of kings."

Agesilaus was excessively fond of his children; and it is to him the story belongs, that when they were little ones, he used to make a horse of a stick, and ride with them; and being caught at this sport by a friend, he desired him not to mention it, till he himself should be the father of children.

When the Mantineans revolted from Thebes to Sparta, and Epaminondas understood that Agesilaus had come to their assistance with a powerful army, he privately in the night quitted his quarters at Tegea, and unknown to the Mantineans, passing by Agesilaus, marched toward Sparta, insomuch that he failed very little of taking it empty and unarmed. Agesilaus had intelligence sent him by Euthynus, the Thespian, as Callisthenes says, but Xenophon says by a Cretan, and immediately despatched a horseman to Lacedaemon, to apprise them of it, and to let them know that he was hastening to them. Shortly after his arrival the Thebans crossed the Eurotas. They made an assault upon the town, and were received by Agesilaus with great courage, and with exertions beyond what was to be expected at his years. For he did not now fight with that caution and cunning which he formerly made use of, but put all upon a desperate push; which, though not his usual method, succeeded so well, that he rescued the city out of the very hands of Epaminondas, and forced him to retire, and, at the erection of a trophy, was able, in the presence of their wives and children, to declare that the Lacedaemonians had nobly paid their debt to their country, and particularly his son Archidamus, who had that day made himself illustrious, both by his courage and agility of body, rapidly passing about by the short lanes to every endangered point, and everywhere maintaining the town against the enemy with but few to help him. Isadas, too, the son of Phoebidas, must have been, I think, the admiration of the enemy as well as of his friends. He was a youth of remarkable beauty and stature, in the very flower of the most attractive time of life, when the boy is just rising into the man. He had no arms upon him, and scarcely clothes; he had just anointed himself at home, when, upon the alarm, without further waiting, in that undress, he snatched a spear in one hand, and a sword in the other, and broke his way through the combatants to the enemies, striking at all he met. He received no wound, whether it were that a special divine care rewarded his valor with an extraordinary protection, or whether his shape being so large and beautiful, and his dress so unusual, they thought him more than a man. The Ephors gave him a garland; but as soon as they had done so, they fined him a thousand drachma, for going out to battle unarmed.

THE BROTHERS FROM THE LIFE OF TIMOLEON

Timoleon had an older brother, whose name was Timophanes, who was every way unlike him, being indiscreet and rash and infected by the suggestions of some friends and foreign soldiers, whom he kept always about him, with a passion for absolute power. He seemed to have a certain force and vehemence in all military service, and even to delight in dangers, and thus he took much with the people, and was advanced to the highest charges as a vigorous and effective warrior; in the obtaining of which offices and promotions Timoleon much assisted him, helping to conceal or at least to extenuate his errors, embellishing by his praise whatever was commendable in him, and setting off his good qualities to the best advantage.

It happened once in the battle fought by the Corinthians against the forces of Argos and Cleonae, that Timoleon served among the infantry, when Timophanes, commanding their cavalry, was brought into extreme danger; for his horse being wounded fell forward, and threw him headlong amidst the enemies, while part of his companions dispersed at once in a panic, and the small number that remained, bearing up against a great multitude, had much ado to maintain any resistance. As soon, therefore, as Timoleon was aware of the accident, he ran hastily to his brother's rescue, and covering the fallen Timophanes with his buckler, after having received an abundance of darts and several strokes by the sword upon his body and his armor, he at length with much difficulty obliged the enemies to retire, and brought off his brother alive and safe. But when the Corinthians, for fear of losing their city a second time, as they had once before, by admitting their allies, made a decree to maintain four hundred mercenaries for its security, and gave Timophanes the command over them, he, abandoning all regard for honor and equity, at once proceeded to put into execution his plans for making himself absolute, and bringing the place under his own power; and having cut off many principal citizens, uncondemned and without trial, who were most likely to hinder his design, he declared himself tyrant of Corinth; a procedure that infinitely afflicted Timoleon, to whom the wickedness of such a brother appeared to be his own reproach and calamity. He undertook to persuade him by reasoning to desist from that wild and unhappy ambition, and bethink himself how he could make the Corinthians some amends, and find out an expedient to remedy the evils he had done them. When his single admonition was rejected and contemned by him, he made a second attempt, taking with him Aeschylus his kinsman, brother to the wife of Timophanes, and a certain diviner, that was his friend, whom Theopompus in his history calls Satyrus. This company coming to his brother, all three of them surrounded and earnestly importuned him upon the same subject, that now at length he would listen to reason and be of another mind. But when Timophanes began first to laugh at the men's simplicity, and presently broke out into rage and indignation against them, Timoleon stepped aside from him and stood weeping with his face covered, while the other two, drawing out their swords, despatched him in a moment.

When the rumor of this act was spread about, the better and more generous of the Corinthians highly applauded Timoleon for the hatred of wrong and the greatness of soul that had made him, though of a gentle disposition and full of love and kindness for his family, think the obligations to his country stronger than the ties of consanguinity, and prefer that which is good and just before gain and interest and his own particular advantage. For the same brother, who with so much bravery had been saved by him when he fought valiantly in the cause of Corinth, he had now as nobly sacrificed for enslaving her afterward by a base and treacherous usurpation. But when he came to understand how heavily his mother took it, and that she likewise uttered the saddest complaints and most terrible imprecations against him, he went to satisfy and comfort her, but he found that she would not endure so much as to look upon him, but caused her doors to be shut that he might have no admission into her presence, and with grief at this he grew so disordered in mind and disconsolate, that he determined to put an end to his perplexity with his life, by abstaining from all manner of sustenance. But through the care and diligence of his friends, who were very persistent with him, and added force to their entreaties, he promised at last that he would endure living, provided it might be in solitude, and remote from company; so that, quitting all civil transactions and commerce with the world, for a long while after his first retirement he never came into Corinth, but wandered up and down the fields, full of anxious and tormenting thoughts, and for almost twenty years did not offer to concern himself in any honorable or public action.

THE WOUND OF PHILOPOEMEN

Cleomenes, king of the Lacedaemonians, surprised Megalopolis by night, forced the guards, broke in, and seized the market-place.

Awhile after, king Antigonus coming down to succor the Achaeans, they marched with their united forces against Cleomenes; who, having seized the avenues, lay advantageously posted on the hills of Sellasia. Antigonus drew up close by him, with a resolution to force him in his strength. Philopoemen, with his citizens, was that day placed among the horse, next to the Illyrian foot, a numerous body of bold fighters, who completed the line of battle, forming, together with the Achaeans, the reserve. Their orders were to keep their ground, and not engage till they should see a red coat lifted up on the point of a spear from the other wing, where the king fought in person. The Achaeans obeyed their order and stood fast; but the Illyrians were led on by their commanders to the attack. Euclidas, the brother of Cleomenes; seeing the foot thus severed from the horse, detached the best of his light-armed men, commanding them to wheel about and charge the unprotected Illyrians in the rear. This charge put things into confusion, and Philopoemen, considering that those light-armed men could be easily repelled, went first to the king's officers to make them sensible of what the occasion required. But when they did not mind what he said, slighting him as a hare-brained fellow (as indeed he was not yet of any repute sufficient to give credit to a proposal of such importance). he charged with his own citizens, and at the first encounter disordered, and soon after put the troops to flight with great slaughter. Then, to encourage the king's army further, to bring them all upon the enemy while he was in confusion, he quitted his horse, and fighting with extreme difficulty in his heavy horseman's dress, in rough, uneven ground, full of water-courses and hollows, had both his thighs struck through with a thonged javelin. It was thrown with great force, so that the head came out on the other side, and made a severe though not a mortal wound. There he stood awhile, as if he had been shackled, unable to move. The fastening which joined the thong to the javelin made it difficult to get it drawn out, nor would anybody about him venture to do it. But the fight being now at the hottest, and likely to be quickly decided, he was transported with the desire of partaking in it, and struggled and strained so violently, setting one leg forward, the other back, that at last he broke the shaft in two, and thus got the pieces pulled out. Being in this manner set at liberty he caught up his sword, and running through the midst of those who were fighting in the first ranks, animated his men, and set them afire with emulation. Antigonus, after the victory, asked the Macedonians, to try them, how it happened that the cavalry had charged without orders before the signal? and when they answered that they were forced to it against their wills by a young man of Megalopolis, who had fallen in before it was time, Antigonus replied, smiling, "That young man acted like an experienced commander."

A ROMAN TRIUMPH FROM THE LIFE OF PAULUS AEMILIUS

Paulus Aemilius, advanced in years, being nearly threescore, yet vigorous in his own person, and rich in valiant sons and sons-in-law, besides a great number of influential relations and friends, all of whom joined in urging him to yield to the desires of the people, who called him to the consulship. He at first manifested some shyness of the people, and withdrew himself from their importunity, professing reluctance to hold office; but, when they daily came to his doors, urging him to come forth to the place of election, and pressing him with noise and clamor, he acceded to their request. When he appeared amongst the candidates, it did not look as if it were to sue for the consulship, but to bring victory and success, that he came down into the Campus; with such hopes and such gladness did they all receive him there, unanimously choosing him a second time consul; nor would they suffer the lots to be cast, as was usual, to determine which province should fall to his share, but immediately decreed him the command of the Macedonian war. It is told, that when he had been proclaimed general against Perseus, and was honorably accompanied home by great numbers of people, he found his daughter Tertia, a very little girl, weeping, and taking her to him asked her why she was crying. She, catching him about the neck and kissing him, said, "O father, do you not know that Perseus is dead?" meaning a little dog of that name who had been brought up in the house with her; to which Aemilius replied, "Good fortune, my daughter; I embrace the omen." Thus Cicero, the orator, relates in his book on divination.

The triumph of Aemilius over Perseus was performed in this manner.

The people erected scaffolds in the Forum, in the circuses, as they call their buildings, for horse-races, and in all other parts of the city where they could best behold the show. The spectators were clad in white garments; all the temples were open, and full of garlands and perfumes; the ways were cleared and kept open by numerous officers, who drove back all who crowded into or ran across the main avenue. This triumph lasted three days. On the first, which was scarcely long enough for the sight, were to be seen the statues, pictures, and colossal images, which were taken from the enemy, drawn upon two hundred and fifty chariots. On the second, was carried in a great many wagons the finest and richest armor of the Macedonians, both of brass and steel, all newly polished and glittering; the pieces of which were piled up and arranged purposely with the greatest art, so as to seem to be tumbled in heaps carelessly and by chance; helmets were thrown upon shields, coats of mail upon greaves; Cretan targets, and Thracian bucklers and quivers of arrows, lay huddled amongst horses' bits, and through these there appeared the points of naked swords, intermixed with long Macedonian sarissas. All these arms were fastened together with just so much looseness that they struck against one another as they were drawn along, and made a harsh and alarming noise, so that, even as spoils of a conquered enemy, they could not be beheld without dread. After these wagons loaded with armor, there followed three thousand men who carried the silver that was coined, in seven hundred and fifty vessels, each of which weighed three talents, and was carried by four men. Others brought silver bowls and goblets and cups, all disposed in such order as to make the best show, and all curious as well for their size as the solidity of their embossed work.

On the third day, early in the morning, first came the trumpeters, who did not sound as they were wont in a procession or solemn entry, but such a charge as the Romans use when they encourage the soldiers to fight. Next followed young men wearing frocks with ornamented borders, who led to the sacrifice a hundred and twenty stalled oxen, with their horns gilded, and their heads adorned with ribbons and garlands; and with these were boys that carried basins for libation, of silver and gold. After this was brought the gold coin, which was divided into vessels that weighed three talents, like those that contained the silver; they were in number seventy-seven. These were followed by those that brought the consecrated bowl which Aemilius had caused to be made, that weighed ten talents, and was set with precious stones. Then were exposed to view the cups of Antigonus and Seleucus, and those of the Thericlean make (Thericles, according to the more probable supposition, was a Corinthian potter: the first maker of a particular kind of cup, which long continued to bear his name.) and all the gold plate that was used at Perseus' table. Next to these came Perseus' chariot, in which his armor was placed, and on that his diadem. And, after a little intermission, the king's children were led captives, and with them a train of their attendants, masters, and teachers, all shedding tears, and stretching out their hands to the spectators, and making the children themselves also beg and entreat their compassion. There were two sons and a daughter whose tender age made them but little sensible of the greatness of their misery, which very insensibility of their condition rendered it the more deplorable; insomuch that Perseus himself was scarcely regarded as he went along, whilst pity fixed the eyes of the Romans upon the infants; many of them could not forbear tears, and all beheld the sight with a mixture of sorrow and pleasure, until the children had passed.

After his children and their attendants came Perseus himself, clad all in black, and wearing the boots of his country; and looking like one altogether stunned and deprived of reason, through the greatness of his misfortunes. Next followed a great company of his friends and familiars, whose countenances were disfigured with grief, and who let the spectators see, by their tears and their continual looking upon Perseus, that it was his fortune they so much lamented, and that they were regardless of their own. Perseus sent to Aemilius to entreat that he might not be led in pomp, but be left out of the triumph; who, deriding, as was but just, his cowardice and fondness of life, sent him this answer, that as for that, it had been before, and was now, in his own power; giving him to understand that the disgrace could be avoided by death; which the faint-hearted man not having the spirit for, and made effeminate by I know not what hopes, allowed himself to appear as a part of his own spoils. After these were carried four hundred crowns, all made of gold, sent from the cities by their respective deputations to Aemilius, in honor of his victory. Then he himself came, seated on a chariot magnificently adorned (a man well worthy to be looked at, even without these ensigns of power), dressed in a robe of purple, interwoven with gold, and holding a laurel branch in his right hand. All the army, in like manner, with boughs of laurel in their hands, divided into their bands and companies, followed the chariot of their commander; some singing verses, according to the usual custom, mingled with raillery; others, songs of triumph, and the praise of Aemilius's deeds; who, indeed, was admired and accounted happy by all men, and unenvied by every one that was good; except so far as it seems the province of some god to lessen that happiness which is too great and inordinate, and so to mingle the affairs of human life that no one should be entirely free from calamities; but, as we read in Homer*, only those should think themselves truly blessed to whom fortune has given an equal share of good and evil.