Both Theseus and Romulus were by nature meant for governors; yet neither
lived up to the true character of a king, but fell off, and ran, the
one into popularity, the other into tyranny, falling both into the same
fault out of different passions. For a ruler's first end is to maintain
his office, which is done no less by avoiding what is unfit than by
observing what is suitable. Whoever is either too remiss or too strict
is no more a king or a governor, but either a demagogue or a despot,
and so becomes either odious or contemptible to his subjects. Though
certainly the one seems to be the fault of easiness and good-nature, the
other of pride and severity.
But Romulus has, first of all, one great plea, that his performances
proceeded from very small beginnings; for both the brothers, being
thought servants and the sons of swineherds, before becoming freemen
themselves gave liberty to almost all the Latins, obtaining at once all
the most honorable titles, as, destroyers of their country's enemies,
preservers of their friends and kindred, princes of the people, founders
of cities; not removers, like Theseus, who raised and compiled only one
house out of many, demolishing many cities bearing the names of ancient
kings and heroes. Romulus, indeed, did the same afterwards, forcing
his enemies to deface and ruin their own dwellings, and to sojourn
with their conquerors; but at first, not by removal, or increase of
an existing city, but by foundation of a new one, he obtained himself
lands, a country, a kingdom, wives, children, and relations. And, in so
doing, he killed or destroyed nobody, but benefited those that wanted
houses and homes, and were willing to be of a society and become
citizens. Robbers and malefactors he slew not; but he subdued nations,
he overthrew cities, he triumphed over kings and commanders. As to
Remus, it is doubtful by whose hand he fell; it is generally imputed
to others. His mother he clearly retrieved from death, and placed his
grandfather, who was brought under base and dishonorable vassalage,
on the ancient throne of Aeneas, to whom he did voluntarily many good
offices, but never did him harm even inadvertently. But Theseus, in
his forgetfulness and neglect of the command concerning the flag, can
scarcely, methinks, by any excuses, or before the most indulgent
judges, avoid the imputation of parricide. And, indeed, one of the
Attic writers, perceiving it to be very hard to make an excuse for this,
feigns that Aegeus, at the approach of the ship, running hastily to the
Acropolis to see what news there was, slipped and fell down; as if he
had no servants, or none would attend him on his way to the shore.