The Project Gutenberg eBook of Plutarch's Lives, Translated from the Greek by Aubrey Stewart and George Long.

Wise save the wise, if wise indeed they be.

Cæsar hearing of this, pardoned Philostratus, wishing rather to release Areius from odium than Philostratus from fear.

LXXXI. Of the children of Antonius, Antyllus,474 the son of Fulvia, was given up by his pædagogus Theodorus and put to death; and when the soldiers had cut off his head, the pædagogus took the most precious stone which he wore about his neck and sewed it in his belt; and though he denied the fact, he was convicted of it and crucified. The children of Cleopatra were guarded together with those who had charge of them, and they had a liberal treatment; but as to Cæsarion, who was said to be Cleopatra’s son by Cæsar, her mother sent him to India with much treasure by way of Ethiopia; but another pædagogus like Theodorus, named Rhodon, persuaded him to return, saying that Cæsar invited him to take the kingdom. While Cæsar was deliberating about Cæsarion, it is said that Areius observed: “Tis no good thing, a multitude of Cæsars.”475

LXXXII. Now Cæsar put Cæsarion to death after the death of Cleopatra. Though many asked for the body of Antonius to bury it, both kings and commanders, Cæsar did not take it from Cleopatra, but it was interred by her own hands sumptuously and royally, and she received for that purpose all that she wished. In consequence of so much grief and pain, for her breasts were inflamed by the blows that she had inflicted and were sore, and a fever coming on, she gladly availed herself of this pretext for abstaining from food and with the design of releasing herself from life without hindrance. There was a physician with whom she was familiar, Olympus, to whom she told the truth, and she had him for her adviser and assistant in accomplishing her death, as Olympus said in a history of these transactions which he published. Cæsar suspecting her design, plied her with threats and alarms about her children, by which Cleopatra was thrown down as by engines of war, and she gave up her body to be treated and nourished as it was wished.

LXXXIII. Cæsar himself came a few days after to see her and pacify her.476 Cleopatra happened to be lying on a mattress meanly dressed, and as he entered she sprang up in a single vest and fell at his feet with her head and face in the greatest disorder, her voice trembling and her eyes weakened by weeping. There were also visible many marks of the blows inflicted on her breast; and in fine her body seemed in no respect to be in better plight than her mind. Yet that charm and that saucy confidence in her beauty were not completely extinguished, but, though she was in such a condition, shone forth from within and showed themselves in the expression of her countenance. When Cæsar had bid her lie down and had seated himself near her, she began to touch upon a kind of justification, and endeavoured to turn all that had happened upon necessity and fear of Antonius; but as Cæsar on each point met her with an answer, being confuted, she all at once changed her manner to move him by pity and by prayers, as a person would do who clung most closely to life. Finally she handed to him a list of all the treasures that she had; and when Seleukus, one of her stewards, declared that she was hiding and secreting some things, she sprang up and laying hold of his hair, belaboured him with many blows on the face. As Cæsar smiled and stopped her, she said, “But is it not scandalous, Cæsar, that you have condescended to come to me and speak to me in my wretched condition, and my slaves make it a matter of charge against me if I have reserved some female ornaments, not for myself forsooth, wretch that I am, but that I may give a few things to Octavia and your wife Livia, and so through their means make you more favourable to me and more mild.” Cæsar was pleased with these words, being fully assured that she wished to live. Accordingly, after saying that he left these matters to her care and that in everything else he would behave to her better than she expected, he went away, thinking that he had deceived her; but he had deceived himself.

LXXXIV. Now there was Cornelius Dolabella,477 a youth of rank, and one of the companions478 of Cæsar. He was not without a certain liking towards Cleopatra; and now, in order to gratify her request, he secretly sent and informed her that Cæsar himself was going to march with his troops through Syria, and that he had determined to send off her with her children on the third day. On hearing this, Cleopatra first entreated Cæsar to permit her to pour libations on the tomb of Antonius; and when Cæsar permitted it, she went to the tomb, and embracing the coffin in company with the women who were usually about her, said, “Dear Antonius, I buried thee recently with hands still free, but now I pour out libations as a captive and so watched that I cannot either with blows or sorrow disfigure this body of mine now made a slave and preserved to form a part in the triumph over thee. But expect not other honours or libations, for these are the last which Cleopatra brings. Living, nothing kept us asunder, but there is a risk of our changing places in death; thou a Roman, lying buried here, and I, wretched woman, in Italy, getting only as much of thy country as will make me a grave. But if indeed there is any help and power in the gods there (for the gods of this country have deserted us), do not deliver thy wife up alive, and let not thyself be triumphed over in me, but hide me here with thee and bury thee with me; for though I have ten thousand ills, not one of them is so great and grievous as this short time which I have lived apart from thee!”

LXXXV. After making this lamentation and crowning and embracing the coffin, she ordered a bath to be prepared for her. After bathing, she lay down and enjoyed a splendid banquet. And there came one from the country bringing a basket; and on the guards asking what he brought, the man opened it, and taking off the leaves showed the vessel full of figs. The soldiers admiring their beauty and size, the man smiled and told them to take some, whereon, without having any suspicion, they bade him carry them in. After feasting, Cleopatra took a tablet, which was already written, and sent it sealed to Cæsar, and, causing all the rest of her attendants to withdraw except those two women, she closed the door. As soon as Cæsar479 opened the tablet and found in it the prayers and lamentations of Cleopatra, who begged him to bury her with Antonius, he saw what had taken place. At first he was for setting out himself to give help, but the next thing that he did was to send persons with all speed to inquire. But the tragedy had been speedy; for, though they ran thither and found the guards quite ignorant of everything, as soon as they opened the door they saw Cleopatra lying dead on a golden couch in royal attire. Of her two women, Eiras was dying at her feet, and Charmion, already staggering and drooping her head, was arranging the diadem on the forehead of Cleopatra. One of them saying in passion, “A good deed this, Charmion;” “Yes, most goodly,” she replied, “and befitting the descendant of so many kings.” She spake not another word, but fell there by the side of the couch.

LXXXVI. Now it is said that the asp was brought with those figs and leaves, and was covered with them; for that Cleopatra had so ordered, that the reptile might fasten on her body without her being aware of it. But when she had taken up some of the figs and saw it, she said, “Here then it is,” and baring her arm, she offered it to the serpent to bite. Others say that the asp was kept in a water-pitcher, and that Cleopatra drew it out with a golden distaff and irritated it till the reptile sprang upon her arm and clung to it. But the real truth nobody knows; for it was also said that she carried poison about her in a hollow comb, which she concealed in her hair; however, no spots broke out on her body, nor any other sign of poison. Nor yet was the reptile seen within the palace; but some said that they observed certain marks of its trail near the sea, in that part towards which the chamber looked and the windows were. Some also say that the arm of Cleopatra was observed to have two small indistinct punctures; and it seems that Cæsar believed this, for in the triumph a figure of Cleopatra was carried with the asp clinging to her. Such is the way in which these events are told. Though Cæsar was vexed at the death of Cleopatra, he admired her nobleness of mind, and he ordered the body to be interred with that of Antonius in splendid and royal style. The women of Cleopatra also received honourable interment by his orders. Cleopatra at the time of her death was forty years of age save one, and she had reigned as queen two-and-twenty years, and governed together with Antonius more than fourteen. Antonius, according to some, was six years, according to others, three years above fifty. Now the statues of Antonius were thrown down, but those of Cleopatra remained standing, for Archibius, one of her friends, gave Cæsar two thousand talents that they might not share the same fate as those of Antonius.

LXXXVII. Antonius by his three wives left seven children, of whom Antyllus, the eldest, was the only one[Pg 346]

[Pg 347] who was put to death by Cæsar; the rest Octavia480 took and brought them up with her own children. Cleopatra, the daughter of Cleopatra, she married to Juba, the most accomplished of kings; and Antonius, the son of Fulvia, she raised so high that, while Agrippa held the first place in Cæsar’s estimation, and the sons of Livia the second, Antonius had and was considered to have the third. Octavia had by Marcellus two daughters, and one son, Marcellus, whom Cæsar made both his son and son-in-law, and he gave one of the daughters to Agrippa. But as Marcellus died very soon after his marriage, and it was not easy for Cæsar to choose from the rest of his friends a son-in-law whom he could trust, Octavia proposed to him that Agrippa should take Cæsar’s daughter and put away her daughter. Cæsar was first persuaded and then Agrippa, whereupon Octavia took her own daughter back and married her to Antonius; and Agrippa married Cæsar’s daughter. There were two daughters of Antonius and Octavia, of whom Domitius Ænobarbus took one to wife; and the other, who was famed for her virtues and her beauty, Antonia, was married to Drusus, the son of Livia, and step-son of Cæsar. From the marriage of Drusus and Antonia came Germanicus and Claudius, of whom Claudius afterwards ruled; and of the children of Germanicus, Caius, who ruled with distinction for no long time, was destroyed together with his child and wife; and Agrippina, who had by Ænobarbus a son, Lucius Domitius, married Claudius Cæsar; and Claudius adopting her son, named him Nero Germanicus. Nero, who ruled in my time, slew his mother, and through his violence and madness came very near subverting the supremacy of Rome, being the fifth from Antonius in the order of succession.

COMPARISON OF DEMETRIUS AND ANTONIUS.

I. Since, then, great changes of fortune took place in each of their lives, let us first consider their power and renown. The position of Demetrius was inherited and already made for him, as Antigonus was the most powerful of the successors of Alexander, and, before Demetrius came of age, had overrun and conquered the greater part of Asia: while Antonius, whose father, though an excellent man, was no soldier, and left him no renown, yet dared to seize upon the empire of Cæsar, with which he was in no way connected, and constituted himself the heir of what Cæsar had won by the sword. Starting as a mere private person, he raised himself to such a height of power as to be able to divide the world into two, and to select and obtain the fairer half for his own, while, without his being even present, his lieutenants and agents inflicted several defeats upon the Parthians, and conquered all the nations of Asia as far as the Caspian Sea. Even that for which he is especially reproached proves the greatness of his power. Demetrius’s father was well pleased at getting Phila, the daughter of Antipater, as a wife for his son, in spite of the disparity of their ages, because he regarded her as his son’s superior; while it was thought to be a disgrace for Antonius to ally himself with Cleopatra, a woman who excelled in power and renown all the Kings of her age, except Arsakes himself. Antonius had made himself so great that men thought him entitled to more even than he himself desired.

II. Demetrius, however, cannot be blamed for attempting to make himself king over a people accustomed to servitude, while it appeared harsh and tyrannical for Antonius to try to enslave the people of Rome just after they had been set free from the rule of Cæsar: and the greatest of his exploits, the war against Brutus and Cassius, was waged with the intention of depriving his countrymen of their liberty. Demetrius, before he became involved in difficulties, used always to act as a liberator towards Greece, and to drive out the foreign garrisons from her cities, and did not act like Antonius, who boasted that he had slain the would-be liberators of Rome in Macedonia. And though Antonius is especially commended for his magnificent generosity, yet Demetrius so far surpassed him as to bestow more upon his enemies than Antonius would upon his friends. It is true that Antonius gained great credit for having caused Brutus to be honourably buried; but Demetrius buried all his enemy’s slain, gave money and presents to his prisoners, and sent them back to Ptolemy.

III. Both were arrogant when in prosperity, and set no bounds to their luxury and pleasures. Yet it cannot be said that Demetrius was ever so immersed in enjoyments as to let slip the time for action, but he only dedicated the superfluity of his leisure to enjoyment, and used his Lamia, like the mythical nightmare, only when he was half asleep or at play. When he was preparing for war, no ivy wreathed his spear, no perfume scented his helmet, nor did he go forth from his bed-chamber to battle covered with finery, but, as Euripides says, he laid the Bacchic wand aside, and served the unhallowed god of war, and, indeed, never suffered any reverse through his own carelessness or love of pleasure. But just as in pictures we often see Omphale stealing the club and stripping off the lion’s skin from Herakles, so Cleopatra frequently would disarm Antonius and turn his mind to pleasure, persuading him to give up mighty enterprises and even necessary campaigns to wander and sport with her on the shores of Canopus and beside the tomb of Osiris. At last, like Paris, he fled from battle to nestle on her breast, though Paris only took refuge in his chamber after he had been defeated in battle, while Antonius, by his pursuit of Cleopatra, gave up his chance of victory.

IV. Moreover, in marrying several wives, Demetrius did not break through any custom, for he only did what had been usual for the kings of Macedonia since the days of Philip and Alexander, and what was done by Lysimachus and Ptolemy in his own time; and he showed due respect to all his wives; while Antonius, in the first place, married two wives at the same time, which no Roman had ever dared to do before, and then drove away his own countrywoman and his legitimate wife to please a foreigner, and one to whom he was not legally married. Yet with all his excesses Antonius was never led by his vices into such sacrilegious impiety as is recorded of Demetrius. We are told that no dogs are allowed to enter the Acropolis,481 because these animals copulate more openly than any others; but Demetrius consorted with harlots in the very temple of the virgin goddess, and debauched many of the Athenian citizens, while, although one would have imagined that a man of such a temperament would be especially averse to cruelty, Demetrius must be charged with this in allowing, or rather compelling, the most beautiful and modest of the Athenians to suffer death in order to avoid outrage. To sum up, the vices of Antonius were ruinous to himself, while those of Demetrius were ruinous to others.

V. Yet Demetrius always behaved well to his parents, whereas Antonius allowed his mother’s brother to perish in order that he might compass the death of Cicero, which was of itself so odious a crime that we should scarcely think Antonius justified if by Cicero’s death he had saved his uncle’s life. With regard to the perjuries and breaking of their words which they both committed, the one in seizing Artabazus, and the other in murdering Alexander, Antonius has a satisfactory defence; for he himself was first deserted and betrayed by Artabazus in Media: while many writers say that Demetrius himself invented false pretexts for his treatment of Alexander, and accused a man whom he had wronged with a design on his life, instead of defending himself against one who was already his enemy. Again, the exploits of Demetrius were all accomplished by himself in person; while, on the other hand, Antonius won some of his most important battles by his lieutenants, without himself being present.

VI. The ruin of both was due to themselves, though in a different manner, for the Macedonians deserted from Demetrius, while Antonious deserted his own troops when they were risking their lives in his defence; so that we must blame the former for having rendered his army so hostile to him, and the latter for betraying so much loyalty and devotion. In their manner of death neither can be praised, but that of Demetrius seems the less creditable of the two, for he endured to be taken prisoner, and when in confinement willingly spent three years in drinking and gluttony, like a wild beast that has been tamed; while Antonius, though he killed himself like a coward, and in a piteous and dishonourable fashion, nevertheless died before he fell into the hands of his enemy.

LIFE OF DION.

I. We are told by the poet Simonides, Sossius Senecio, that the Trojans bore no malice against the Corinthians for joining the rest of the Greeks in the siege of Troy, because Glaukus, who was himself of Corinthian extraction, fought heartily on their side. In the same manner we may expect that neither Greeks nor Romans will be able to blame the doctrines of the academy, as each nation derives equal credit from their practice in this book of mine, which contains the lives of Brutus and Dion, of whom the latter was Plato’s intimate friend, while the former was educated by his writings: so that they were both, as it were, sent forth from the same school to contend for the greatest prizes. It is not surprising, therefore, that there should be a great similarity between their respective achievements, or that they should have proved the truth of that maxim of their teacher, that nothing great or noble can be effected in politics except when a wise and just man is possessed of absolute power combined with good fortune. Just as Hippomachus the gymnastic trainer used to declare that he could always tell by their carriage those who had been his pupils, even though he only saw them from a distance when they were carrying meat home for their dinner, so we may imagine that philosophy accompanies those who have been brought up in its precepts in every action of their lives, adding a happy grace and fitness to all that they do.

II. Their lives resemble one another even more in their misfortunes than in the objects at which they aimed. Both of them perished by an untimely fate, unable, with all their mighty efforts, to accomplish the object which they had in view. The most remarkable point of all is that they both received a supernatural warning of their death by the appearance to them of an evil spirit in a dream. Yet it is a common argument with those who deny the truth of such matters that no man of sense ever could see a ghost or spirit but that it is only children and women and men who are wandering in their mind through sickness, who through disorder of the brain or distemperature of the body are subject to these vain and ominous fancies, which really arise from the evil spirit of superstition within themselves. If, however, Dion and Brutus, both of whom were serious and philosophic men, not at all liable to be mistaken or easy to be deceived about such matters, did really experience a supernatural visitation so distinctly that they told other persons about it, I do not know whether we may not be obliged to adopt that strangest of all the theories of the ancients that evil and malignant spirits feel a spite against good men, and try to oppose their actions, throwing confusion and terror in their way in order to shake them in their allegiance to virtue; because they fear lest if they passed their lives entirely pure and without spot of sin, they might after death obtain a higher place than themselves. This, however, I must reserve for discussion in another place; and now, in this my twelfth book of parallel lives, I will first proceed to deal with the elder man of the two.

III. Dionysius the elder, as soon as he had raised himself to the throne, married the daughter of Hermokrates of Syracuse. However, as his power was not yet firmly established, the people of Syracuse rose in revolt, and committed such shocking outrages upon the person of Dionysius’s wife, that she voluntarily put herself to death. Dionysius, after recovering and confirming his power, now married two wives at the same time, one of whom was a Lokrian, named Doris, and the other a native of Syracuse, named Aristomache, the daughter of Hipparinus, one of the first men in Syracuse, who had acted as colleague with Dionysius himself when he was appointed to the command of the army with unlimited powers. It is said that he married them both upon the same day, and that no man knew which he visited first; and of the remainder of his life he spent an equal share of his time with each, as he always supped in company with both of them, and spent the night with each in turn. The populace of Syracuse would fain have hoped that their countrywoman would be preferred to the stranger; but it was the stranger who first bore a son and heir to Dionysius, to counterbalance her foreign parentage; while Aristomache remained childless for a long time, although Dionysius was anxious to have a family by her, and even put to death the mother of his Lokrian wife on a charge of having bewitched her.

IV. Dion was the brother of Aristomache, and at first was treated with respect for the sake of his sister, but afterwards, when he had given proofs of his ability, he gained the favour of the despot by his own good qualities. Besides many other privileges, Dionysius ordered his treasurers to give Dion anything that he might ask for, letting him know on the same day what they had given him. He was naturally of a high minded and manly disposition, and he was greatly encouraged in the path of virtue by the providential accident of Plato’s visit to Sicily. This never could have been calculated upon according to human ideas of probability; but it seems as though some divinity, who had long been meditating how to put liberty within the reach of the Syracusans and to free them from despotism, must have brought Plato from Italy to Syracuse, and caused Dion to become his disciple. Dion at this time was very young, but was by far the most apt of Plato’s scholars, and the readiest to follow out his master’s instructions in virtue. This we learn from Plato’s own account of him, and from the circumstances of the case. Brought up as Dion had been in the humble position of a subject under a despotic ruler, his life had been full of sudden alarms and violent alternations of fortune; yet, though he was at this time accustomed to live in a state of parvenu splendour, and to regard pleasure and power as the only objects of desire, he, as soon as he had become acquainted with philosophic reasoning and exhortation to virtue, became passionately interested in it. With the guileless innocence of youth he imagined that the discourses which he had heard would produce an equally deep impression upon the mind of Dionysius, and took considerable pains to bring Dionysius to meet Plato and listen to his arguments.

V. When the meeting took place, Plato chose for his subject human virtue, and discussed more particularly the virtue of manly courage, proving that despots are the most cowardly of men. From this he went on to speak of justice, and as he pointed out that the life of the just is happy, and that of the unjust miserable, Dionysius, who considered the lecture as a reproach to himself, was much exasperated, especially when he observed how all the audience admired Plato and were enchanted by his rhetoric. At last in a rage he asked him why he had come to Sicily: and when Plato answered that he had come in order to find a good man, Dionysius caught up his words, and said, “You seem hitherto not to have found one.”

Dion and his friends imagined that this outburst marked the end of Dionysius’s indignation; and as Plato was now anxious to leave Sicily they obtained a passage for him on board of a trireme which was about to convey home Pollis, the Lacedæmonian envoy. Dionysius however secretly besought Pollis to put Plato to death during the voyage, or at any rate to sell him for a slave, because, he said, Plato, according to his own showing, would be none the worse off for being a slave, but would be just as happy, provided that he was just. In consequence of this we are told that Pollis took Plato to Ægina and there sold him, because the people of Ægina were at that time at war with the Athenians, and had passed a decree that any Athenian found in Ægina should be sold for a slave.482 Yet Dion was no less honoured and trusted by Dionysius in consequence of this, but was entrusted with the management of the most important negotiations, and was himself sent as ambassador to Carthage, in which capacity he gained great credit. Indeed he was almost the only person whom Dionysius allowed freely to speak his mind, as is proved by the reproof which he gave Dionysius about Gelon. It appeals that Dionysius was sneering at Gelon and his kingdom, and saying that he was the laughing-stock of Sicily. All the other courtiers pretended to approve of this jest, but Dion harshly answered, “Yet you have been allowed to become our despot because of the good example set by Gelon; but your example will not encourage any state to imitate us.” In truth Gelon’s conduct as an absolute monarch seems to have been just as admirable as that of Dionysius was detestable.

VI. Dionysius had three children by his Lokrian wife, and four by Aristomache. Of his two daughters, Sophrosyne married her half-brother, and Arete married Thearides, the brother of Dionysius, but on the death of Thearides Dion took Arete, who was his own niece, for his wife. In Dionysius’s last illness, when his life was despaired of, Dion wished to ask him what was to become of the children of Aristomache, but the physicians, who wished to pay their court to the heir to the throne, would not allow Dion an opportunity of doing so. Timæus even states that when Dionysius asked for a sleeping draught they gave him one which rendered him completely insensible, so that he passed from sleep into death. However, as soon as the young Dionysius assembled his friends in council, Dion made such an admirable speech upon the political situation that all the others appeared by his side to be mere children in intellect, and their words seemed to be those of slaves and grovelling flatterers of the despot when compared with his bold and fearless utterances. He impressed upon their minds the greatness of the danger by which they were menaced by Carthage, and promised that if Dionysius wished for peace he himself would at once set sail for Africa and obtain the best terms he could; or that, if he preferred to fight, he would place at his disposal a force of fifty triremes, which he would maintain at his own expense.

VII. Dionysius greatly admired his magnanimity and approved of his zeal; but the others, who thought that they were eclipsed by Dion, and were jealous of his power, at once set to work to effect his ruin, and lost no opportunity of exasperating the young despot against him by pointing out that he was plotting to obtain the supreme throne by means of the fleet, and that his object in making the offer of the ships was to place all real power in the hands of the children of Aristomache. Their hate and jealousy of Dion was chiefly owing to the proud reserve of his life, so different to their own: for they at once began to court the friendship of their young and ill-trained monarch by offering him all kinds of flatteries and pleasures, endeavouring to amuse his leisure by vagrant amours, drinking parties, and the like dissolute pastimes, which blunted the excessive sharpness of his tyranny, and made his subjects regard it as milder and less ferocious than before, although the alteration was due only to the laziness and not to the real goodness of their ruler. By slow degrees the extravagance and licentious life of the young monarch relaxed and broke those “chains of adamant” by which the elder Dionysius boasted that he had secured his power. We are told that he once continued drinking for ninety days in succession, and that during the whole of this time his court was a place which no respectable person could enter, and where no business could be transacted, as it was a constant scene of singing, jesting, dancing, drunkenness and debauchery.

VIII. As may easily be imagined, Dion soon lost the favour of the monarch, as he never relaxed the austerity of his life. For this reason the calumnies of infamous men were more easily believed by Dionysius, when they attacked the virtues of Dion, calling his pride arrogance, and his boldness of speech churlishness. When he gave good advice he was thought to reproach them, and because he refused to join in their excesses, he seemed to despise them. Indeed, his disposition was naturally inclined to haughtiness, and his manners harsh and forbidding. It was not only to a young man whose ears were accustomed to flatteries that he appeared so ungracious and harsh-tempered, but even those who were sincerely attached to him, and who admired the noble simplicity of his character, used to blame his discourtesy and rudeness towards those with whom he was brought in contact upon political business. Indeed, not long after this, Plato, as if prophetically, wrote to him, warning him against a stubborn and arrogant temper, the consort of a lonely life. Yet, even at that time, though Dion was regarded as the most able man in the state, and was thought to be the only person who could save the kingdom from the dangers by which it was menaced, he knew well that his honourable and powerful position was not due to any love which the monarch bore him, but merely to the fact that he could not do without him.

IX. As Dion imagined that this must be caused by Dionysius’s want of education, he endeavoured to interest him in literature, and to form his character by the study of philosophy and science. Indeed Dionysius was far from being a stupid ruler, but his father, fearing that if he were educated, and frequented the society of intellectual men, he would certainly plot against him and seize his throne, used to keep him shut up at home, where, through want of companionship and ignorance, he was forced, we are told, to amuse himself by making little waggons and lamps, and wooden chairs and tables; for the elder Dionysius was so distrustful and suspicious of all men, and was driven by his fears to take such precautions against assassination, that he would not even allow his hair to be cut with a barber’s tools, but a workman used to come and singe his hair with a live coal. Neither his brother nor his son was allowed to enter his house in their ordinary dress, but were obliged to take off their clothes and put on others, so that they might be seen naked by the guard. Once when his brother Leptines, describing the situation of some place, took a spear from one of the life-guards and with it drew a map upon the floor, Dionysius was furiously angry with him, and put to death the man who gave him the spear. He used to say that he suspected all his friends, because he knew that they were sensible men, who would prefer to be despots themselves rather than live under the rule of a despot. He put to death one Marsyas, whom he had himself promoted to a responsible post, because he dreamed that he was killing him; for Dionysius argued that his dream must have been suggested by some thoughts or talk in his waking hours. To such a condition of terror and misery was he reduced by his cowardice, although he was angry with Plato for not declaring him to be the bravest of men.

X. Dion, perceiving, as has been said before, that the character of the young Dionysius had been ruined by his want of education, begged him to educate himself, to offer all possible inducements to the first of philosophers to visit Sicily, and when he came, to place himself in his hands, in order that his character might be exalted by the contemplation of virtue, and formed upon the noblest of models, which alone can produce order out of chaos; by which means he would not only gain great happiness for himself, but would bestow great happiness upon the citizens by his mild and just paternal rule, thus becoming a true king instead of a despot. He pointed out that the “adamantine chains” by which Dionysius’s father boasted that his dominion was secured, were not terror and force, the numbers of his ships of war, or the thousands of his barbarian mercenaries, but rather the goodwill, loyalty, and gratitude engendered by virtue and justice, which, though softer than those rough defences, would nevertheless establish his rule far more securely than they. Besides these considerations he urged that it was a sorry thing, and showed a want of proper ambition for a ruler to be splendidly dressed and luxuriously lodged, but yet to be no more intellectual in his conversation and arguments than any ordinary man, and to neglect to adorn the palace of his soul as became a king.

XI. As Dion frequently urged these considerations, and quoted several of Plato’s discourses, Dionysius became passionately desirous of seeing and conversing with Plato. Many letters were at once sent to Athens by Dionysius, while Plato also received many injunctions from Dion and from several of the Pythagorean philosophers in Italy, bidding him go to Syracuse, undertake the guidance of the mind of this young and powerful ruler, and fill it with serious thoughts. Plato obeyed their invitation, chiefly, he tells us, because he feared to appear a mere man of words, unwilling to take in hand any real work, and also because he hoped that if he could purify the mind of the chief, he might through him influence for good the whole of the corrupt people of Sicily. The opponents of Dion, who feared the results of any change in the character of Dionysius, prevailed upon him to recall from exile Philistus, a man of intellectual culture and an experienced courtier, in order to make use of him as a counterpoise to Plato and his philosophy. Indeed, Philistus had zealously assisted in the establishment of the despotism, and for a long time had acted as chief of the garrison of the citadel. There was also a report that he had been the favoured lover of the mother of the elder Dionysius, and that, too, not altogether without the knowledge of the despot; for when Leptines, without telling Dionysius of it, gave Philistus for his wife one of the two daughters which had been born to him by a woman whom he had seduced while she was married to another man, and who afterwards lived with him, Dionysius was very angry, caused the wife of Leptines to be imprisoned in chains, and forced Philistus to leave Sicily and take refuge with some friends of his at Adria, where he is thought to have found leisure to write the greater part of his history; for he never returned to Syracuse during the life of the elder Dionysius, but it was after that prince’s death, as has been told, that the opposition to Dion brought him back as being a person more likely to agree with their views and more likely to support the monarchy.

XII. Philistus on his return at once became closely connected with the monarchy; while Dion was assailed by misrepresentations and slanders reported by others to the despot, charging him with having discussed the extinction of despotism with Theodotes and Herakleides. Dion appears to have hoped by the influence of Plato to remove from Dionysius all the arbitrary harshness of a despot, and to make him into an orderly constitutional ruler. If he resisted, and refused to be thus softened and refined, Dion had determined to set him aside, and to restore to the Syracusans their free constitution; not that he was an admirer of democracy, but because he thought that at any rate it was better than a despotism for states which were not ruled by a wise and stable oligarchy.

XIII. While affairs were in this posture, Plato arrived at Sicily and received a most kindly and magnificent welcome. One of the royal carriages, splendidly equipped, stood ready to receive him as he landed, and Dionysius offered sacrifice, as though some great good fortune had befallen his rule. The sobriety of the royal banquets, the refined tone of the court and the gentle manners of Dionysius himself in transacting business, all inspired the Syracusans with great hope of a change for the better. It became the fashion to take interest in philosophical matters, and it is said that so many began to study geometry that the palace was filled with the dust in which they drew their figures. In a few days’ time a hereditary sacrifice was celebrated in the palace; and when the herald, according to custom, prayed that the despotism might remain unshaken for many years, it is said that Dionysius, who stood near him, exclaimed: “Will you not cease from imprecating curses upon us?” This greatly grieved the party of Philistus, who feared that Plato’s power over Dionysius would become unassailable, if he were allowed time to become intimate with him, if after so short an acquaintance he had already wrought so great a change in the young man’s ideas.

XIV. They now no longer singly and in secret, but in a body openly assailed Dion, declaring that they could easily see through his motives in bewitching Dionysius with the eloquence of Plato, in order that Dionysius might be induced to voluntarily abdicate his throne, and hand it over to the children of Aristomache, whose uncle Dion was. Some of them even pretended to be angry that, though in former times a great Athenian naval and military force sailed thither and perished before it could effect the conquest of Syracuse, yet now the Athenians should be able, by means of one single sophist, to destroy the throne of Dionysius, and persuade him to desert his ten thousand life-guards, leave his four hundred ships of war, his ten thousand cavalry and many thousands more of infantry soldiers, in order to seek in the Academy for the ineffable good, and find real pleasure in geometry, leaving the pleasures of power, wealth and luxury to be enjoyed by Dion and Dion’s nephews. This led at first to Dion’s being regarded with suspicion, and then, when Dionysius began to show his dislike openly, he received a letter which Dion had secretly despatched to the Carthaginian commanders, warning them, when they came to treat for peace with Dionysius, not to conduct the interview without his being present, as he would see that the whole matter was permanently settled. We are told by Timaeus that Dionysius, after reading this letter to Philistus and having taken counsel with him, deceived Dion by making false offers of reconciliation with him. After much friendly talk, he declared that their differences were at an end, and then, leading him alone towards the sea-shore under the walls of the citadel, showed him the letter, and upbraided him with plotting with the Carthaginians against himself. He would not listen to Dion when he tried to excuse himself, but at once placed him on board of a small vessel and ordered the sailors to land him on the coast of Italy.

XV. Upon this, as Dionysius appeared to have acted very harshly, the whole palace was plunged in grief by the women, while the city of Syracuse became much excited, expecting that the exile of Dion and the mistrust with which others regarded the despot would soon lead to some revolution. Dionysius, perceiving and fearing this, encouraged the women and friends of Dion, speaking of Dion as though he were not banished, but had left the country of his own free will, for fear that if he remained at home his quick temper might betray him into some violent collision with himself. He placed two ships at the disposal of Dion’s relatives, and bade them embark with as much of his property and servants as they pleased and go to rejoin him in Peloponnesus. Dion’s property was very extensive, and his whole household was on a magnificent, almost a royal, scale. Everything was now carried away by his friends, and much more was sent to him by his female relatives and his friends, so that his wealth and magnificence became famous throughout Greece, and the power of the despot became enhanced by the sight of the riches of the exile.

XVI. Dionysius at once removed Plato into the citadel, where, under pretence of showing him kindly respect, he was kept in an honourable captivity, in order that he might not sail away with Dion, a witness of his unjust treatment. By degrees, like a wild animal who gradually becomes used to the touch of human beings, so Dionysius accustomed himself to the society and discourses of Plato, and, after the manner of despots, conceived a violent passion for him. He was especially anxious that Plato should return his affection and should approve of his acts, and was even willing to entrust the government and the crown itself to him if he would only not prefer Dion’s friendship to his own. This passion of his caused great annoyance to Plato, for like all true lovers he was furiously jealous and had frequent quarrels and reconciliations with him, being very eager to hear his discourses, and engage in the study of philosophy, and yet being influenced by those who advised him to keep away from Plato, as he would be corrupted by his teaching. Meanwhile, as some war broke out, he sent Plato away, promising that in a year’s time he would recall Dion. This promise he broke at once, but he remitted to Dion the revenues of his estate, and besought Plato to pardon his breach of faith about the time, because of the war; for, as soon as peace should be made, he promised that he would at once send for Dion. He also asked Plato to beg Dion to remain quiet, and not to engage in any revolutionary schemes, and not to traduce his character to the Greeks.

XVII. Plato endeavoured to effect this, and turned Dion’s attention to philosophy, and kept him in the Academy. Dion lived at this time in the city of Athens, in the house of Kallippus, one of his friends, though he also bought an estate in the country for recreation, which, when he subsequently set sail for Sicily, he presented to Speusippus, who, of all the Athenians, was his most intimate friend. This intimacy was brought about by Plato, who hoped that the harshness of Dion’s character might be somewhat softened by the society of a well-bred and cheerful man. Such a person as this was Speusippus, whom we find spoken of in Timon’s Silli as being “good at a jest.” When Plato himself exhibited a chorus of boys, Dion both trained the chorus and defrayed all the expenses, and Plato permitted him to gain this distinction although it was likely to obtain popularity for Dion at his own expense. Dion also visited other cities, where he associated with the best and most statesmanlike of the citizens, and attended their solemn festivals, without ever betraying anything repulsive, affected, or imperious in his manner, but acting with manliness and discretion, and discoursing with elegance on philosophy as well as ordinary topics. By this conduct he everywhere gained good opinions, and public honours were decreed to him by various cities, The Lacedæmonians even adopted him as a Spartan, disregarding the anger of Dionysius, though he at the time was zealously assisting them in a war against the Thebans. We are told that once Dion wished to see Ptoiodorus, of Megara, and went to his house. Ptoiodorus, it seems, was a rich and powerful man; and when Dion observed the crowds at his door and the busy throng and saw how hard it was to gain an audience of him, he turned to his friends, who were vexed at this, and said: “Why should we find fault with this man? for we ourselves used to do just the same thing at Syracuse?”

XVIII. As time went on, Dionysius, feeling jealous of Dion, and fearing the popularity which he was obtaining among the Greeks, left off forwarding his revenues to him and confiscated his property. Being desirous of effacing the bad impression which he had made upon all philosophers by his treatment of Plato, he collected round him many men who had a reputation for learning. As he wished to surpass them all in argument, he was forced to make use, often improperly, of what he had very imperfectly learned from Plato. He now again began to wish for Plato, and blamed himself for not having made use of him when he was present, and for not having listened to all his noble language. Frantic in his desires, and impatient to obtain whatever he wished, as despots are, he at once set his heart upon Plato and tried every means to attract him. He induced Archytas and the other successors of the original Pythagorean philosophers to invite Plato; for it was by means of Plato that Dionysius had at first become their friend. They sent Archedemus to Plato, and Dionysius also despatched a trireme and several of his friends to entreat Plato to come: while he himself wrote a letter in which he distinctly stated that Dion would never get his rights if Plato refused to come to Sicily, but that if he would, Dion should receive them all. Many letters also reached Dion from his sister and his wife, urging him to beg Plato to accede to the request of Dionysius, and not afford him grounds for ill-treating them. Thus, they say, it was that Plato came to sail a third time into the straits of Scylla.