_Alexander. Hannibal. Minos. Scipio_
_Alex_. Libyan, I claim precedence of you. I am the better man.
_Han_. Pardon me.
_Alex_. Then let Minos decide.
_Mi_. Who are you both?
_Alex_. This is Hannibal, the Carthaginian: I am Alexander, the son of
Philip.
_Mi_. Bless me, a distinguished pair! And what is the quarrel about?
_Alex_. It is a question of precedence. He says he is the better
general: and I maintain that neither Hannibal nor (I might almost add)
any of my predecessors was my equal in strategy; all the world knows
that.
_Mi_. Well, you shall each have your say in turn: the Libyan first.
_Han_. Fortunately for me, Minos, I have mastered Greek since I have
been here; so that my adversary will not have even that advantage of
me. Now I hold that the highest praise is due to those who have won
their way to greatness from obscurity; who have clothed themselves in
power, and shown themselves fit for dominion. I myself entered Spain
with a handful of men, took service under my brother, and was found
worthy of the supreme command. I conquered the Celtiberians, subdued
Western Gaul, crossed the Alps, overran the valley of the Po, sacked
town after town, made myself master of the plains, approached the
bulwarks of the capital, and in one day slew such a host, that their
finger-rings were measured by bushels, and the rivers were bridged by
their bodies. And this I did, though I had never been called a son of
Ammon; I never pretended to be a god, never related visions of my
mother; I made no secret of the fact that I was mere flesh and blood.
My rivals were the ablest generals in the world, commanding the best
soldiers in the world; I warred not with Medes or Assyrians, who fly
before they are pursued, and yield the victory to him that dares take
it.
Alexander, on the other hand, in increasing and extending as he did the
dominion which he had inherited from his father, was but following the
impetus given to him by Fortune. And this conqueror had no sooner
crushed his puny adversary by the victories of Issus and Arbela, than
he forsook the traditions of his country, and lived the life of a
Persian; accepting the prostrations of his subjects, assassinating his
friends at his own table, or handing them over to the executioner. I in
my command respected the freedom of my country, delayed not to obey her
summons, when the enemy with their huge armament invaded Libya, laid
aside the privileges of my office, and submitted to my sentence without
a murmur. Yet I was a barbarian all unskilled in Greek culture; I could
not recite Homer, nor had I enjoyed the advantages of Aristotle's
instruction; I had to make a shift with such qualities as were mine by
nature.—It is on these grounds that I claim the pre-eminence. My rival
has indeed all the lustre that attaches to the wearing of a diadem,
and—I know not—for Macedonians such things may have charms: but I
cannot think that this circumstance constitutes a higher claim than the
courage and genius of one who owed nothing to Fortune, and everything
to his own resolution.
_Mi_. Not bad, for a Libyan.—Well, Alexander, what do you say to that?
_Alex_. Silence, Minos, would be the best answer to such confident
self-assertion. The tongue of Fame will suffice of itself to convince
you that I was a great prince, and my opponent a petty adventurer. But
I would have you consider the distance between us. Called to the throne
while I was yet a boy, I quelled the disorders of my kingdom, and
avenged my father's murder. By the destruction of Thebes, I inspired
the Greeks with such awe, that they appointed me their
commander-in-chief; and from that moment, scorning to confine myself to
the kingdom that I inherited from my father, I extended my gaze over
the entire face of the earth, and thought it shame if I should govern
less than the whole. With a small force I invaded Asia, gained a great
victory on the Granicus, took Lydia, lonia, Phrygia,—in short, subdued
all that was within my reach, before I commenced my march for Issus,
where Darius was waiting for me at the head of his myriads. You know
the sequel: yourselves can best say what was the number of the dead
whom on one day I dispatched hither. The ferryman tells me that his
boat would not hold them; most of them had to come across on rafts of
their own construction. In these enterprises, I was ever at the head of
my troops, ever courted danger. To say nothing of Tyre and Arbela, I
penetrated into India, and carried my empire to the shores of Ocean; I
captured elephants; I conquered Porus; I crossed the Tanais, and
worsted the Scythians—no mean enemies—in a tremendous cavalry
engagement. I heaped benefits upon my friends: I made my enemies taste
my resentment. If men took me for a god, I cannot blame them; the
vastness of my undertakings might excuse such a belief. But to
conclude. I died a king: Hannibal, a fugitive at the court of the
Bithynian Prusias—fitting end for villany and cruelty. Of his Italian
victories I say nothing; they were the fruit not of honest legitimate
warfare, but of treachery, craft, and dissimulation. He taunts me with
self-indulgence: my illustrious friend has surely forgotten the
pleasant time he spent in Capua among the ladies, while the precious
moments fleeted by. Had I not scorned the Western world, and turned my
attention to the East, what would it have cost me to make the bloodless
conquest of Italy, and Libya, and all, as far West as Gades? But
nations that already cowered beneath a master were unworthy of my
sword.—I have finished, Minos, and await your decision; of the many
arguments I might have used, these shall suffice.
_Sci_. First, Minos, let me speak.
_Mi_. And who are you, friend? and where do you come from?
_Sci_. I am Scipio, the Roman general, who destroyed Carthage, and
gained great victories over the Libyans.
_Mi_. Well, and what have you to say?
_Sci_. That Alexander is my superior, and I am Hannibal's, having
defeated him, and driven him to ignominious flight. What impudence is
this, to contend with Alexander, to whom I, your conqueror, would not
presume to compare myself!
_Mi_. Honestly spoken, Scipio, on my word! Very well, then: Alexander
comes first, and you next; and I think we must say Hannibal third. And
a very creditable third, too.