POMPEY

The people of Rome seem to have entertained for Pompey from his

childhood, the same affection that Prometheus in the tragedy of

Aeschylus expresses for Hercules, speaking of him as the author

of his deliverance, in these words,

Ah cruel Sire! how dear thy son to me!

The generous offspring of my enemy!

For on the one hand, never did the Romans give such

demonstrations of a vehement and fierce hatred against any of

their generals, as they did against Strabo, the father of

Pompey; during whose lifetime, it is true, they stood in awe of

his military power, as indeed he was a formidable warrior, but

immediately upon his death, which happened by a stroke of

thunder, they treated him with the utmost contumely, dragging

his corpse from the bier, as it was carried to his funeral. On

the other side, never had any Roman the people's good-will and

devotion more zealous throughout all the changes of fortune,

more early in its first springing up, or more steadily rising

with his prosperity, or more constant in his adversity, than

Pompey had. In Strabo, there was one great cause of their

hatred, his insatiable covetousness; in Pompey, there were many

that helped to make him the object of their love; his

temperance, his skill, and exercise in war, his eloquence of

speech, integrity of mind and affability in conversation and

address; insomuch that no man ever asked a favor with less

offense, or conferred one with a better grace. When he gave,

it was without assumption, when he received, it was with

dignity and honor.

In his youth, his countenance pleaded for him, seeming to

anticipate his eloquence, and win upon the affections of the

people before he spoke. His beauty even in his bloom of youth

had something in it at once of gentleness and dignity; and

when his prime of manhood came, the majesty kingliness of his

character at once became visible in it. His hair sat somewhat

hollow or rising a little; and this, with the languishing

motion of his eyes, seemed to form a resemblance in his face,

though perhaps more talked of than really apparent, to the

statues of king Alexander. And because many applied that name

to him in his youth, Pompey himself did not decline it,

insomuch that some called him so in derision. And Lucius

Philippus, a man of consular dignity, when he was pleading in

favor of him, thought it not unfit to say, that people could

not be surprised if Philip was a lover of Alexander.

It is related of Flora, the courtesan, that when she was now

pretty old; she took great delight in speaking of her early

familiarity with Pompey, and was wont to say, that she could

never part after being with him without a bite. She would

further tell, that Geminius, a companion of Pompey's, fell in

love with her, and made his court with great importunity; and

on her refusing, and telling him, however her inclinations

were, yet she could not gratify his desires for Pompey's sake,

he therefore made his request to Pompey, and Pompey frankly

gave his consent, but never afterwards would have any converse

with her, notwithstanding, that he seemed to have a great

passion for her; and Flora, on this occasion, showed none of

the levity that might have been expected of her, but languished

for some time after under a sickness brought on by grief and

desire. This Flora, we are told, was such a celebrated beauty,

that Caecilius Metellus, when he adorned the temple of Castor

and Pollux with paintings and statues, among the rest dedicated

hers for her singular beauty. In his conduct also to the wife

of Demetrius, his freed servant, (who had great influence with

him in his lifetime, and left an estate of four thousand

talents,) Pompey acted contrary to his usual habits, not quite

fairly or generously, fearing lest he should fall under the

common censure of being enamored and charmed with her beauty,

which was irresistible, and became famous everywhere.

Nevertheless, though he seemed to be so extremely circumspect

and cautious, yet even in matters of this nature, he could not

avoid the calumnies of his enemies, but upon the score of

married women, they accused him, as if he had connived at many

things, and embezzled the public revenue to gratify their

luxury.

Of his easiness of temper and plainness, in what related to

eating and drinking, the story is told, that once in a

sickness, when his stomach nauseated common meats, his

physician prescribed him a thrush to eat; but upon search,

there was none to be bought, for they were not then in season,

and one telling him they were to be had at Lucullus's, who kept

them all the year round, "So then," said he, "if it were not

for Lucullus's luxury, Pompey should not live;" and thereupon

not minding the prescription of the physician, he contented

himself with such meat as could easily be procured. But this

was at a later time.

Being as yet a very young man, and upon an expedition in which

his father was commanding against Cinna, he had in his tent

with him one Lucius Terentius, as his companion and comrade,

who, being corrupted by Cinna, entered into an engagement to

kill Pompey, as others had done, to set the general's tent on

fire. This conspiracy being discovered to Pompey at supper, he

showed no discomposure at it, but on the contrary drank more

liberally than usual, and expressed great kindness to

Terentius; but about bedtime, pretending to go to his repose,

he stole away secretly out of the tent, and setting a guard

about his father, quietly expected the event. Terentius, when

he thought the proper time come, rose with his naked sword, and

coming to Pompey's bedside, stabbed several strokes through the

bedclothes, as if he were lying there. Immediately after this

there was a great uproar throughout all the camp, arising from

the hatred they bore to the general, and a universal movement

of the soldiers to revolt, all tearing down their tents, and

betaking themselves to their arms. The general himself all

this while durst not venture out because of the tumult; but

Pompey, going about in the midst of them, besought them with

tears; and at last threw himself prostrate upon his face before

the gate of the camp, and lay there in the passage at their

feet, shedding tears, and bidding those that were marching off,

if they would go, trample upon him. Upon which, none could

help going back again, and all, except eight hundred, either

through shame or compassion, repented, and were reconciled to

the general.

Immediately upon the death of Strabo, there was an action

commenced against Pompey, as his heir, for that his father had

embezzled the public treasure. But Pompey, having traced the

principal thefts, charged them upon one Alexander, a freed

slave of his father's, and proved before the judges that he

had been the appropriator. But he himself was accused of

having in his possession some hunting tackle, and books, that

were taken at Asculum. To this he confessed thus far, that he

received them from his father when he took Asculum, but pleaded

further, that he had lost them since, upon Cinna's return to

Rome when his home was broken open and plundered by Cinna's

guards. In this cause he had a great many preparatory

pleadings against his accuser, in which he showed an activity

and steadfastness beyond his years, and gained great reputation

and favor; insomuch that Antistius, the praetor and judge of

the cause, took a great liking to him, and offered him his

daughter in marriage, having had some communications with his

friends about it. Pompey accepted the proposal, and they were

privately contracted; however, the secret was not so closely

kept as to escape the multitude, but it was discernible enough

from the favor shown him by Antistius in his cause. And at

last, when Antistius pronounced the absolutory sentence of the

judges, the people, as if it had been upon a signal given, made

the acclamation used according to ancient custom, at marriages,

Talasio. The origin of which custom is related to be this. At

the time when the daughters of the Sabines came to Rome, to see

the shows and sports there, and were violently seized upon by

the most distinguished and bravest of the Romans for wives, it

happened that some goatswains and herdsmen of the meaner rank

were carrying off a beautiful and tall maiden; and lest any of

their betters should meet them, and take her away, as they ran,

they cried out with one voice, Talasio, Talasius being a

well-known and popular person among them, insomuch that all

that heard the name, clapped their hands for joy, and joined

with them in the shout, as applauding and congratulating the

chance. Now, say they, because this proved a fortunate match

to Talasius, hence it is that this acclamation is sportively

used as a nuptial cry at all weddings. This is the most

credible of the accounts that are given of the Talasio. And

some few days after this judgment, Pompey married Antistia.

After this he went to Cinna's camp, where finding some false

suggestions and calumnies prevailing against him, he began to

be afraid and presently withdrew himself secretly; which sudden

disappearance occasioned great suspicion. And there went a

rumor and speech through all the camp, that Cinna had murdered

the young man; upon which all that had been anyways disobliged,

and bore any malice to him, resolved to make an assault upon

him. He, endeavoring to make his escape, was seized by a

centurion, who pursued him with his naked sword. Cinna, in

this distress, fell upon his knees, and offered him his

seal-ring, of great value, for his ransom; but the centurion

repulsed him insolently, saying, "I did not come to seal a

covenant, but to be revenged upon a lawless and wicked tyrant;"

and so dispatched him immediately.

Thus Cinna being slain, Carbo, a tyrant yet more senseless than

he, took the command and exercised it, while Sylla meantime was

approaching, much to the joy and satisfaction of most people,

who in their present evils were ready to find some comfort if

it were but in the exchange of a master. For the city was

brought to that pass by oppression and calamities, that being

utterly in despair of liberty, men were only anxious for the

mildest and most tolerable bondage. At that time Pompey was in

Picenum in Italy, where he spent some time amusing himself, as

he had estates in the country there, though the chief motive of

his stay was the liking he felt for the towns of that district,

which all regarded him with hereditary feelings of kindness and

attachment. But when he now saw that the noblest and best of

the city began to forsake their homes and property, and fly

from all quarters to Sylla's camp, as to their haven, he

likewise was desirous to go; not, however, as a fugitive, alone

and with nothing to offer, but as a friend rather than a

suppliant, in a way that would gain him honor, bringing help

along with him, and at the head of a body of troops.

Accordingly he solicited the Picentines for their assistance,

who as cordially embraced his motion, and rejected the

messengers sent from Carbo; insomuch that a certain Vindius

taking upon him to say, that Pompey was come from the

school-room to put himself at the head of the people, they

were so incensed that they fell forthwith upon this Vindius and

killed him. From henceforward Pompey, finding a spirit of

government upon him, though not above twenty-three years of

age, nor deriving, an authority by commission from any man,

took the privilege to grant himself full power, and causing a

tribunal to be erected in the market-place of Auximum, a

populous city, expelled two of their principal men, brothers,

of the name of Ventidius, who were acting against him in

Carbo's interest, commanding them by a public edict to depart

the city; and then proceeded to levy soldiers, issuing out

commissions to centurions, and other officers, according to the

form of military discipline. And in this manner he went round

all the rest of the cities in the district. So that those of

Carbo's faction flying, and all others cheerfully submitting to

his command, in a little time he mustered three entire legions,

having supplied himself beside with all manner of provisions,

beasts of burden, carriages, and other necessaries of war. And

with this equipage he set forward on his march towards Sylla,

not as if he were in haste, or desirous of escaping

observation, but by small journeys, making several halts upon

the road, to distress and annoy the enemy, and exerting himself

to detach from Carbo's interest every part of Italy that he

passed through.

Three commanders of the enemy encountered him at once, Carinna,

Cloelius, and Brutus, and drew up their forces, not all in the

front, nor yet together on any one part, but encamping three

several armies in a circle about him, they resolved to

encompass and overpower him. Pompey was no way alarmed at

this, but collecting all his troops into one body, and placing

his horse in the front of the battle, where he himself was in

person, he singled out and bent all his forces against Brutus,

and when the Celtic horsemen from the enemy's side rode out to

meet him, Pompey himself encountering hand to hand with the

foremost and stoutest among them, killed him with his spear.

The rest seeing this turned their backs, and fled, and breaking

the ranks of their own foot, presently caused a general rout;

whereupon the commanders fell out among themselves, and marched

off, some one way, some another, as their fortunes led them,

and the towns round about came in and surrendered themselves to

Pompey, concluding that the enemy was dispersed for fear. Next

after these, Scipio, the consul, came to attack him, and with

as little success; for before the armies could join, or be

within the throw of their javelins, Scipio's soldiers saluted

Pompey's, and came over to them, while Scipio made his escape

by flight. Last of all, Carbo himself sent down several troops

of horse against him by the river Arsis, which Pompey assailed

with the same courage and success as before; and having routed

and put them to flight, he forced them in the pursuit into

difficult ground, unpassable for horse, where seeing no hopes

of escape, they yielded themselves with their horses and armor,

all to his mercy.

Sylla was hitherto unacquainted with all these actions; and on

the first intelligence he received of his movements was in

great anxiety about him, fearing lest he should be cut off

among so many and such experienced commanders of the enemy, and

marched therefore with all speed to his aid. Now Pompey,

having advice of his approach, sent out orders to his officers,

to marshal and draw up all his forces in full array, that they

might make the finest and noblest appearance before the

commander-in-chief; for he expected indeed great honors from

him, but met with even greater. For as soon as Sylla saw him

thus advancing, his army so well appointed, his men so young

and strong, and their spirits so high and hopeful with their

successes, he alighted from his horse, and being first, as was

his due, saluted by them with the title of Imperator, he

returned the salutation upon Pompey, in the same term and style

of Imperator, which might well cause surprise, as none could

have ever anticipated that he would have imparted, to one so

young in years and not yet a senator, a title which was the

object of contention between him and the Scipios and Marii.

And indeed all the rest of his deportment was agreeable to this

first compliment; whenever Pompey came into his presence, he

paid some sort of respect to him, either in rising and being

uncovered, or the like, which he was rarely seen to do to

anyone else, notwithstanding that there were many about him of

great rank and honor. Yet Pompey was not puffed up at all, or

exalted with these favors. And when Sylla would have sent him

with all expedition into Gaul, a province in which it was

thought Metellus who commanded in it had done nothing worthy of

the large forces at his disposal, Pompey urged, that it could

not be fair or honorable for him, to take a province out of the

hands of his senior in command and superior in reputation;

however, if Metellus were willing, and should request his

service, he should be very ready to accompany and assist him in

the war. Which when Metellus came to understand, he approved

of the proposal, and invited him over by letter. And on this

Pompey fell immediately into Gaul, where he not only achieved

wonderful exploits of himself, but also fired up and kindled

again that bold and warlike spirit, which old age had in a

manner extinguished in Metellus, into a new heat; just as

molten copper, they say, when poured upon that which is cold

and solid, will dissolve and melt it faster than fire itself.

But as when a famous wrestler has gained the first place among

men, and borne away the prizes at all the games, it is not

usual to take account of his victories as a boy, or to enter

them upon record among the rest; so with the exploits of Pompey

in his youth, though they were extraordinary in themselves, yet

because they were obscured and buried in the multitude and

greatness of his later wars and conquests, I dare not be

particular in them, lest, by trifling away time in the lesser

moments of his youth, we should be driven to omit those greater

actions and fortunes which best illustrate his character.

Now, when Sylla had brought all Italy under his dominion, and

was proclaimed dictator, he began to reward the rest of his

followers, by giving them wealth, appointing them to offices in

the State, and granting them freely and without restriction any

favors they asked for. But as for Pompey, admiring his valor

and conduct, and thinking that he might prove a great stay and

support to him hereafter in his affairs, he sought means to

attach him to himself by some personal alliance, and his wife

Metella joining in his wishes, they two persuaded Pompey to put

away Antistia, and marry Aemilia, the step-daughter of Sylla,

borne by Metella to Scaurus her former husband, she being at

that very time the wife of another man, living with him, and

with child by him. These were the very tyrannies of marriage,

and much more agreeable to the times under Sylla, than to the

nature and habits of Pompey; that Aemilia great with child

should be, as it were, ravished from the embraces of another

for him, and that Antistia should be divorced with dishonor and

misery by him, for whose sake she had been but just before

bereft of her father. For Antistius was murdered in the

senate, because he was suspected to be a favorer of Sylla for

Pompey's sake; and her mother, likewise, after she had seen all

these indignities, made away with herself; a new calamity to be

added to the tragic accompaniments of this marriage, and that

there might be nothing wanting to complete them, Aemilia

herself died, almost immediately after entering Pompey's house,

in childbed.

About this time news came to Sylla, that Perpenna was

fortifying himself in Sicily, that the island was now become a

refuge and receptacle for the relics of the adverse party; that

Carbo was hovering about those seas with a navy, that Domitius

had fallen in upon Africa and that many of the exiled men of

note who had escaped from the proscriptions were daily flocking

into those parts. Against these, therefore, Pompey was sent

with a large force; and no sooner was he arrived in Sicily but

Perpenna immediately departed, leaving the whole island to him.

Pompey received the distressed cities into favor, and treated

all with great humanity, except the Mamertines in Messena; for

when they protested against his court and jurisdiction,

alleging their privilege and exemption founded upon an ancient

charter or grant of the Romans, he replied sharply, "What!

will you never cease prating of laws to us that have swords by

our sides?" It was thought, likewise, that he showed some

inhumanity to Carbo, seeming rather to insult over his

misfortunes, than to chastise his crimes. For if there had

been a necessity, as perhaps there was, that he should be taken

off, that might have been done at first, as soon as he was

taken prisoner, for then it would have been the act of him that

commanded it. But here Pompey commended a man that had been

thrice consul of Rome, to be brought in fetters to stand at the

bar, he himself sitting upon the bench in judgment, examining

the cause with the formalities of law, to the offense and

indignation of all that were present, and afterwards ordered

him to be taken away and put to death. It is related, by the

way, of Carbo, that as soon as he was brought to the place, and

saw the sword drawn for execution, he was suddenly seized with

a looseness or pain in his bowels, and desired a little

respite of the executioner, and a convenient place to relieve

himself. And yet further, Caius Oppius, the friend of Caesar,

tells us, that Pompey dealt cruelly with Quintus Valerius, a

man of singular learning and science. For when he was brought

to him, he walked aside, and drew him into conversation, and

after putting a variety of questions to him, and receiving

answers from him, he ordered his officers to take him away, and

put him to death. But we must not be too credulous in the case

of narratives told by Oppius, especially when he undertakes to

relate anything touching the friends or foes of Caesar. This

is certain, that there lay a necessity upon Pompey to be severe

upon many of Sylla's enemies, those at least that were eminent

persons in themselves, and notoriously known to be taken; but

for the rest, he acted with all the clemency possible for him,

conniving at the concealment of some, and himself being the

instrument in the escape of others. So in the case of the

Himeraeans; for when Pompey had determined on severely

punishing their city, as they had been abettors of the enemy,

Sthenis, the leader of the people there, craving liberty of

speech, told him, that what he was about to do was not at all

consistent with justice, for that he would pass by the guilty,

and destroy the innocent; and on Pompey demanding, who that

guilty person was that would assume the offenses of them all,

Sthenis replied, it was himself, who had engaged his friends by

persuasion to what they had done, and his enemies by force;

whereupon Pompey being much taken with the frank speech and

noble spirit of the man, first forgave his crime, and then

pardoned all the rest of the Himeraeans. Hearing, likewise,

that his soldiers were very disorderly their march, doing

violence upon the roads, he ordered their swords to be sealed

up in their scabbards, and whosoever kept them not so, were

severely punished.

Whilst Pompey was thus busy in the affairs and government of

Sicily, he received a decree of the senate, and a commission

from Sylla, commanding him forthwith to sail into Africa, and

make war upon Domitius with all his forces: for Domitius had

rallied up a far greater army than Marius had had not long

since, when he sailed out of Africa into Italy, and caused a

revolution in Rome, and himself, of a fugitive outlaw, became a

tyrant. Pompey, therefore, having prepared everything with the

utmost speed, left Memmius, his sister's husband, governor of

Sicily, and set sail with one hundred and twenty galleys, and

eight hundred other vessels laden with provisions, money,

ammunition, and engines of battery. He arrived with his fleet,

part at the port of Utica, part at Carthage; and no sooner was

he landed, but seven thousand of the enemy revolted and came

over to him, while his own forces that he brought with him

consisted of six entire legions. Here they tell us of a

pleasant incident that happened to him at his first arrival.

For some of his soldiers having by accident stumbled upon a

treasure, by which they got a good sum of money, the rest of

the army hearing this, began to fancy that the field was full of

gold and silver, which had been hid there of old by the

Carthaginians in the time of their calamities, and thereupon

fell to work, so that the army was useless to Pompey for many

days, being totally engaged in digging for the fancied

treasure, he himself all the while walking up and down only,

and laughing to see so many thousands together, digging and

turning up the earth. Until at last, growing weary and

hopeless, they came to themselves, and returned to their

general, begging him to lead them where he pleased, for that

they had already received the punishment of their folly. By

this time Domitius had prepared himself; and drawn out his army

in array against Pompey; but there was a watercourse betwixt

them, craggy, and difficult to pass over; and this, together

with a great storm of wind and rain pouring down even from

break of day, seemed to leave but little possibility of their

coming together, so that Domitius, not expecting any engagement

that day, commanded his forces to draw off and retire to the

camp. Now Pompey, who was watchful upon every occasion, making

use of the opportunity, ordered a march forthwith, and having

passed over the torrent, fell in immediately upon their

quarters. The enemy was in a great disorder and tumult, and in

that confusion attempted a resistance; but they neither were

all there, nor supported one another; besides, the wind having

veered about, beat the rain full in their faces. Neither

indeed was the storm less troublesome to the Romans, for that

they could not clearly discern one another, insomuch that even

Pompey himself, being unknown, escaped narrowly; for when one

of his soldiers demanded of him the word of battle, it happened

that he was somewhat slow in his answer, which might have cost

him his life.

The enemy being routed with a great slaughter, (for it is said,

that of twenty thousand there escaped but three thousand,) the

army saluted Pompey by the name of Imperator; but he declined

it, telling them, that he could not by any means accept of that

title, as long as he saw the camp of the enemy standing; but if

they designed to make him worthy of the honor, they must first

demolish that. The soldiers on hearing this, went at once and

made an assault upon the works and trenches, and there Pompey

fought without his helmet, in memory of his former danger, and

to avoid the like. The camp was thus taken by storm, and among

the rest, Domitius was slain. After that overthrow, the cities

of the country thereabouts were all either secured by

surrender, or taken by storm. King Iarbas, likewise, a

confederate and auxiliary of Domitius, was taken prisoner, and

his kingdom was given to Hiempsal.

Pompey could not rest here, but being ambitious to follow the

good fortune and use the valor of his army, entered Numidia;

and marching forward many days' journey up into the country, he

conquered all wherever he came. And having revived the terror

of the Roman power, which was now almost obliterated among the

barbarous nations, he said likewise, that the wild beasts of

Africa ought not to be left without some experience of the

courage and success of the Romans; and therefore he bestowed

some few days in hunting lions and elephants. And it is said,

that it was not above the space of forty days at the utmost, in

which he gave a total overthrow to the enemy, reduced Africa,

and established the affairs of the kings and kingdoms of all

that country, being then in the twenty-fourth year of his age.

When Pompey returned back to the city of Utica, there were

presented to him letters and orders from Sylla, commanding him

to disband the rest of his army, and himself with one legion

only to wait there the coming of another general, to succeed

him in the government. This, inwardly, was extremely grievous

to Pompey, though he made no show of it. But the army resented

it openly, and when Pompey besought them to depart and go home

before him, they began to revile Sylla, and declared broadly,

that they were resolved not to forsake him, neither did they

think it safe for him to trust the tyrant. Pompey at first

endeavored to appease and pacify them by fair speeches; but

when he saw that his persuasions were vain, he left the bench,

and retired to his tent with tears in his eyes. But the

soldiers followed him, and seizing upon him, by force brought

him again, and placed him in his tribunal; where great part of

that day was spent in dispute, they on their part persuading

him to stay and command them, he, on the other side, pressing

upon them obedience, and the danger of mutiny. At last, when

they grew yet more importunate and clamorous, he swore that he

would kill himself if they attempted to force him; and scarcely

even thus appeased them. Nevertheless, the first tidings

brought to Sylla were, that Pompey was up in rebellion; on

which he remarked to some of his friends, "I see, then, it is

my destiny to contend with children in my old age;" alluding at

the same time to Marius, who, being but a mere youth, had given

him great trouble, and brought him into extreme danger. But

being undeceived afterwards by better intelligence, and finding

the whole city prepared to meet Pompey, and receive him with

every display of kindness and honor, he resolved to exceed them

all. And, therefore, going out foremost to meet him, and

embracing him with great cordiality, he gave him his welcome

aloud in the title of Magnus, or the Great, and bade all that

were present call him by that name. Others say that he had

this title first given him by a general acclamation of all the

army in Africa, but that it was fixed upon him by this

ratification of Sylla. It is certain that he himself was the

last that owned the title; for it was a long time after, when

he was sent proconsul into Spain against Sertorius, that he

began to write himself in his letters and commissions by the

name of Pompeius Magnus; common and familiar use having then

worn off the invidiousness of the title. And one cannot but

accord respect and admiration to the ancient Romans, who did

not reward the successes of action and conduct in war alone

with such honorable titles, but adorned likewise the virtues

and services of eminent men in civil government with the same

distinctions and marks of honor. Two persons received from the

people the name of Maximus, or the Greatest, Valerius, for

reconciling the senate and people, and Fabius Rullus, because

he put out of the senate certain sons of freed slaves who had

been admitted into it because of their wealth.

Pompey now desired the honor of a triumph, which Sylla opposed,

alleging that the law allowed that honor to none but consuls

and praetors, and therefore Scipio the elder, who subdued the

Carthaginians in Spain in far greater and nobler conflicts,

never petitioned for a triumph, because he had never been

consul or praetor; and if Pompey, who had scarcely yet fully

grown a beard, and was not of age to be a senator, should enter

the city in triumph, what a weight of envy would it bring, he

said, at once upon his government and Pompey's honor. This was

his language to Pompey, intimating that he could not by any

means yield to his request, but if he would persist in his

ambition, that he was resolved to interpose his power to humble

him. Pompey, however, was not daunted; but bade Sylla

recollect, that more worshiped the rising than the setting sun;

as if to tell him that his power was increasing, and Sylla's in

the wane. Sylla did not perfectly hear the words, but

observing a sort of amazement and wonder in the looks and

gestures of those that did hear them, he asked what it was that

he said. When it was told him, he seemed astounded at Pompey's

boldness, and cried out twice together, "Let him triumph," and

when others began to show their disapprobation and offense at

it, Pompey, it is said, to gall and vex them the more, designed

to have his triumphant chariot drawn with four elephants,

(having brought over several which belonged to the African

kings,) but the gates of the city being too narrow, he was

forced to desist from that project, and be content with horses.

And when his soldiers, who had not received as large rewards as

they had expected, began to clamor, and interrupt the triumph,

Pompey regarded these as little as the rest, and plainly told

them that he had rather lose the honor of his triumph, than

flatter them. Upon which Servilius, a man of great

distinction, and at first one of the chief opposers of Pompey's

triumph, said, he now perceived that Pompey was truly great and

worthy of a triumph. It is clear that he might easily have

been a senator, also, if he had wished, but he did not sue for

that, being ambitious, it seems, only of unusual honors. For

what wonder had it been for Pompey, to sit in the senate before

his time? But to triumph before he was in the senate, was

really an excess of glory.

And moreover, it did not a little ingratiate him with the

people; who were much pleased to see him after his triumph take

his place again among the Roman knights. On the other side, it

was no less distasteful to Sylla to see how fast he came on,

and to what a height of glory and power he was advancing; yet

being ashamed to hinder him, he kept quiet. But when, against

his direct wishes, Pompey got Lepidus made consul, having

openly joined in the canvass and, by the good-will the people

felt for himself, conciliated their favor for Lepidus, Sylla

could forbear no longer; but when he saw him coming away from

the election through the forum with a great train after him,

cried out to him, "Well, young man, I see you rejoice in your

victory. And, indeed, is it not a most generous and worthy

act, that the consulship should be given to Lepidus, the vilest

of men, in preference to Catulus, the best and most deserving

in the city, and all by your influence with the people? It

will be well, however, for you to be wakeful and look to your

interests; as you have been making your enemy stronger than

yourself." But that which gave the clearest demonstration of

Sylla's ill-will to Pompey, was his last will and testament;

for whereas he had bequeathed several legacies to all the rest

of his friends, and appointed some of them guardians to his

eon, he passed by Pompey without the least remembrance.

However, Pompey bore this with great moderation and temper; and

when Lepidus and others were disposed to obstruct his interment

in the Campus Martius, and to prevent any public funeral taking

place, came forward in support of it, and saw his obsequies

performed with all honor and security.

Shortly after the death of Sylla, his prophetic words were

fulfilled; and Lepidus proposing to be the successor to all his

power and authority, without any ambiguities or pretences,

immediately appeared in arms, rousing once more and gathering

about him all the long dangerous remains of the old factions,

which had escaped the hand of Sylla. Catulus, his colleague,

who was followed by the sounder part of the senate and people,

was a man of the greatest esteem among the Romans for wisdom

and justice; but his talent lay in the government of the city

rather than the camp, whereas the exigency required the skill

of Pompey. Pompey, therefore, was not long in suspense which

way to dispose of himself, but joining with the nobility, was

presently appointed general of the army against Lepidus, who

had already raised up war in great part of Italy, and held

Cisalpine Gaul in subjection with an army under Brutus. As for

the rest of his garrisons, Pompey subdued them with ease in his

march, but Mutina in Gaul resisted in a formal siege, and he

lay here a long time encamped against Brutus. In the meantime

Lepidus marched in all haste against Rome, and sitting down

before it with a crowd of followers, to the terror of those

within, demanded a second consulship. But that fear quickly

vanished upon letters sent from Pompey, announcing that he had

ended the war without a battle; for Brutus, either betraying

his army, or being betrayed by their revolt, surrendered

himself to Pompey, and receiving a guard of horse, was

conducted to a little town upon the river Po; where he was

slain the next day by Geminius, in execution of Pompey's

commands. And for this Pompey was much censured; for, having

at the beginning of the revolt written to the senate that

Brutus had voluntarily surrendered himself, immediately

afterward he sent other letters, with matter of accusation

against the man, after he was taken off. Brutus, who with

Cassius slew Caesar, was son to this Brutus; neither in war nor

in his death like his father, as appears at large in his life.

Lepidus upon this being driven out of Italy, fled to Sardinia,

where he fell sick and died of sorrow, not for his public

misfortunes, as they say, but, upon the discovery of a letter,

proving his wife to have been unfaithful to him.

There yet remained Sertorius, a very different general from

Lepidus, in possession of Spain, and making himself formidable

to Rome; the final disease, as it were, in which the scattered

evils of the civil wars had now collected. He had already cut

off various inferior commanders, and was at this time coping

with Metellus Pius, a man of repute and a good soldier, though

perhaps he might now seem too slow, by reason of his age, to

second and improve the happier moments of war, and might be

sometimes wanting to those advantages which Sertorius by his

quickness and dexterity would wrest out of his hands. For

Sertorius was always hovering about, and coming upon him

unawares, like a captain of thieves rather than soldiers,

disturbing him perpetually with ambuscades and light

skirmishes; whereas Metellus was accustomed to regular conduct,

and fighting in battle array with full-armed soldiers. Pompey,

therefore, keeping his army in readiness, made it his object to

be sent in aid to Metellus; neither would he be induced to

disband his forces, notwithstanding that Catulus called upon

him to do so, but by some colorable device or other he still

kept them in arms about the city, until the senate at last

thought fit, upon the report of Lucius Philippus, to decree him

that government. At that time, they say, one of the senators

there expressing his wonder and demanding of Philippus whether

his meaning was that Pompey should be sent into Spain as

proconsul, "No," replied Philippus, "but as proconsuls," as if

both consuls for that year were in his opinion wholly useless.

When Pompey was arrived in Spain, as is usual upon the fame of

a new leader, men began to be inspired with new hopes, and

those nations that had not entered into a very strict alliance

with Sertorius, began to waver and revolt; whereupon Sertorius

uttered various arrogant and scornful speeches against Pompey,

saying in derision, that he should want no other weapon but a

ferula and rod to chastise this boy with, if he were not afraid

of that old woman, meaning Metellus. Yet in deed and reality

he stood in awe of Pompey, and kept on his guard against him,

as appeared by his whole management of the war, which he was

observed to conduct much more warily than before; for Metellus,

which one would not have imagined, was grown excessively

luxurious in his habits having given himself over to

self-indulgence and pleasure, and from a moderate and

temperate, became suddenly a sumptuous and ostentatious liver,

so that this very thing gained Pompey great reputation and

goodwill, as he made himself somewhat specially an example of

frugality, although that virtue was habitual in him, and

required no great industry to exercise it, as he was naturally

inclined to temperance, and no ways inordinate in his desires.

The fortune of the war was very various; nothing however

annoyed Pompey so much as the taking of the town of Lauron by

Sertorius. For when Pompey thought he had him safe inclosed,

and had boasted somewhat largely of raising the siege, he found

himself all of a sudden encompassed; insomuch that he durst not

move out of his camp, but was forced to sit still whilst the

city was taken and burnt before his face. However, afterwards

in a battle near Valentia, he gave great defeat to Herennius

and Perpenna, two commanders among the refugees who had fled to

Sertorius, and now lieutenants under him, in which he slew

above ten thousand men.

Pompey, being elated and filled with confidence by this

victory, made all haste to engage Sertorius himself, and the

rather lest Metellus should come in for a share in the honor of

the victory. Late in the day, towards sunset, they joined

battle near the river Sucro, both being in fear lest Metellus

should come; Pompey, that he might engage alone, Sertorius,

that he might have one alone to engage with. The issue of the

battle proved doubtful, for a wing of each side had the better;

but of the generals, Sertorius had the greater honor, for that

he maintained his post, having put to flight the entire

division that was opposed to him, whereas Pompey was himself

almost made a prisoner; for being set upon by a strong man at

arms that fought on foot, (he being on horseback,) as they were

closely engaged hand to hand, the strokes of their swords

chanced to light upon their hands, but with a different

success; for Pompey's was a slight wound only, whereas he cut

off the other's hand. However, it happened so, that many now

falling upon Pompey together, and his own forces there being

put to the rout, he made his escape beyond expectation, by

quitting his horse, and turning him out among the enemy. For

the horse being richly adorned with golden trappings, and

having a caparison of great value, the soldiers quarreled among

themselves for the booty, so that while they were fighting with

one another, and dividing the spoil, Pompey made his escape.

By break of day the next morning, each drew out his forces into

the field to claim the victory; but Metellus coming up,

Sertorius vanished, having broken up and dispersed his army.

For this was the way in which he used to raise and disband his

armies, so that sometimes he would be wandering up and down all

alone, and at other times again he would come pouring into the

field at the head of no less than one hundred and fifty

thousand fighting-men, swelling of a sudden like a winter

torrent.

When Pompey was going after the battle to meet and welcome

Metellus, and when they were near one another, he commanded his

attendants to lower their rods in honor of Metellus, as his

senior and superior. But Metellus on the other side forbade

it, and behaved himself in general very obligingly to him, not

claiming any prerogative either in respect of his consular rank

or seniority; excepting only that when they encamped together,

the watchword was given to the whole camp by Metellus. But

generally they had their camps asunder, being divided and

distracted by the enemy, who took all shapes, and being always

in motion, would by some skillful artifice appear in a variety

of places almost in the same instant, drawing them from one

attack to another, and at last keeping them from foraging,

wasting the country, and holding the dominion of the sea,

Sertorius drove them both out of that part of Spain which was

under his control, and forced them for want of necessaries to

retreat into provinces that did not belong to them.

Pompey, having made use of and expended the greatest part of

his own private revenues upon the war, sent and demanded moneys

of the senate, adding, that in case they did not furnish him

speedily, he should be forced to return into Italy with his

army. Lucullus being consul at that time, though at variance

with Pompey, yet in consideration that he himself was a

candidate for the command against Mithridates, procured and

hastened these supplies, fearing lest there should be any

presence or occasion given to Pompey of returning home, who of

himself was no less desirous of leaving Sertorius, and of

undertaking the war against Mithridates, as an enterprise which

by all appearance would prove much more honorable and not so

dangerous. In the meantime Sertorius died, being

treacherously murdered by some of his own party; and Perpenna,

the chief among them, took the command, and attempted to carry

on the same enterprises with Sertorius, having indeed the same

forces and the same means, only wanting the same skill and

conduct in the use of them. Pompey therefore marched directly

against, Perpenna, and finding him acting merely at random in

his affairs, had a decoy ready for him, and sent out a

detachment of ten cohorts into the level country with orders to

range up and down and disperse themselves abroad. The bait

took accordingly, and no sooner had Perpenna turned upon the

prey and had them in chase, but Pompey appeared suddenly with

all his army and joining battle, gave him a total overthrow.

Most of his officers were slain in the field, and he himself

being brought prisoner to Pompey, was by his order put to

death. Neither was Pompey guilty in this of ingratitude or

unmindfulness of what had occurred in Sicily, which some have

laid to his charge, but was guided by a high minded policy and

a deliberate counsel for the security of his country. For

Perpenna, having in his custody all Sertorius's papers, offered

to produce several letters from the greatest men in Rome, who,

desirous of a change and subversion of the government, had

invited Sertorius into Italy. And Pompey, fearing that these

might be the occasion of worse wars than those which were now

ended, thought it advisable to put Perpenna to death, and burnt

the letters without reading them.

Pompey continued in Spain after this so long a time as was

necessary for the suppression of all the greatest disorders in

the province; and after moderating and allaying the more

violent heats of affairs there, returned with his army into

Italy, where he arrived, as chance would have it, in the height

of the servile war. Accordingly, upon his arrival, Crassus,

the commander in that war, at some hazard precipitated a

battle, in which he had great success, and slew upon the place

twelve thousand three hundred of the insurgents. Nor yet was

he so quick, but that fortune reserved to Pompey some share of

honor in the success of this war, for five thousand of those

that had escaped out of the battle fell into his hands; and

when he had totally cut them off, he wrote to the senate, that

Crassus had overthrown the slaves in battle, but that he had

plucked up the whole war by the roots. And it was agreeable to

the people in Rome both thus to say, and thus to hear said,

because of the general favor of Pompey. But of the Spanish war

and the conquest of Sertorius, no one, even in jest, could have

ascribed the honor to anyone else. Nevertheless, all this

high respect for him, and this desire to see him come home,

were not unmixed with apprehensions and suspicions that he

might perhaps not disband his army, but take his way by the

force of arms and a supreme command to the seat of Sylla. And

so in the number of all those that ran out to meet him and

congratulate his return, as many went out of fear as affection.

But after Pompey had removed this alarm, by declaring

beforehand that he would discharge the army after his triumph,

those that envied him could now only complain that he affected

popularity, courting the common people more than the nobility,

and that whereas Sylla had abolished the tribuneship of the

people, he designed to gratify the people by restoring that

office, which was indeed the fact. For there was not any one

thing that the people of Rome were more wildly eager for, or

more passionately desired, than the restoration of that office,

insomuch that Pompey thought himself extremely fortunate in

this opportunity, despairing (if he were anticipated by

someone else in this) of ever meeting with any other sufficient

means of expressing his gratitude for the favors which he had

received from the people.

Though a second triumph was decreed him, and he was declared

consul, yet all these honors did not seem so great an evidence

of his power and glory, as the ascendant which he had over

Crassus; for he, the wealthiest among all the statesmen of his

time, and the most eloquent and greatest too, who had looked

down on Pompey himself, and on all others as beneath him, durst

not appear a candidate for the consulship before he had applied

to Pompey. The request was made accordingly, and was eagerly

embraced by Pompey, who had long sought an occasion to oblige

him in some friendly office; so that he solicited for Crassus,

and entreated the people heartily, declaring, that their favor

would be no less to him in choosing Crassus his colleague, than

in making himself consul. Yet for all this, when they were

created consuls, they were always at variance, and opposing one

another. Crassus prevailed most in the senate, and Pompey's

power was no less with the people, he having restored to them

the office of tribune, and having allowed the courts of

judicature to be transferred back to the knights by a new law.

He himself in person, too, afforded them a most grateful

spectacle, when he appeared and craved his discharge from the

military service. For it is an ancient custom among the

Romans, that the knights, when they had served out their legal

time in the wars, should lead their horses into the

market-place before the two officers, called censors, and

having given an account of the commanders and generals under

whom they served, as also of the places and actions of their

service, should be discharged, every man with honor or

disgrace, according to his deserts. There were then sitting in

state upon the bench two censors, Gellius and Lentulus,

inspecting the knights, who were passing by in muster before

them, when Pompey was seen coming down into the forum, with all

the ensigns of a consul, but leading his horse in his hand.

When he came up, he bade his lictors make way for him, and so

he led his horse to the bench; the people being all this while

in a sort of amaze, and all in silence, and the censors

themselves regarding the sight with a mixture of respect and

gratification. Then the senior censor examined him: "Pompeius

Magnus, I demand of you whether you have served the full time

in the wars that is prescribed by the law?" "Yes," replied

Pompey with a loud voice, "I have served all, and all under

myself as general." The people hearing this gave a great

shout, and made such an outcry for delight, that there was no

appeasing it; and the censors rising from their judgment-seat,

accompanied him home to gratify the multitude, who followed

after, clapping their hands and shouting.

Pompey's consulship was now expiring, and yet his difference

with Crassus increasing, when one Caius Aurelius, a knight, a

man who had declined public business all his lifetime, mounted

the hustings, and addressed himself in an oration to the

assembly, declaring that Jupiter had appeared to him in a

dream, commanding him to tell the consuls, that they should not

give up office until they were friends. After this was said,

Pompey stood silent, but Crassus took him by the hand, and

spoke in this manner: "I do not think, fellow-citizens, that I

shall do anything mean or dishonorable, in yielding first to

Pompey, whom you were pleased to ennoble with the title of

Great, when as yet he scarce had a hair on his face; and

granted the honor of two triumphs, before he had a place in the

senate." Hereupon they were reconciled and laid down their

office. Crassus resumed the manner of life which he had always

pursued before; but Pompey in the great generality of causes

for judgment declined appearing on either side, and by degrees

withdrew himself totally from the forum, showing himself but

seldom in public; and whenever he did, it was with a great

train after him. Neither was it easy to meet or visit him

without a crowd of people about him; he was most pleased to

make his appearance before large numbers at once, as though he

wished to maintain in this way his state and majesty, and as if

he held himself bound to preserve his dignity from contact with

the addresses and conversation of common people. And life in

the robe of peace is only too apt to lower the reputation of

men that have grown great by arms, who naturally find

difficulty in adapting themselves to the habits of civil

equality. They expect to be treated as the first in the city,

even as they were in the camp; and on the other hand, men who

in war were nobody, think it intolerable if in the city at any

rate they are not to take the lead. And so, when a warrior

renowned for victories and triumphs shall turn advocate and

appear among them in the forum, they endeavor their utmost to

obscure and depress him; whereas, if he gives up any

pretensions here and retires, they will maintain his military

honor and authority beyond the reach of envy. Events

themselves not long after showed the truth of this.

The power of the pirates first commenced in Cilicia, having in

truth but a precarious and obscure beginning, but gained life

and boldness afterwards in the wars of Mithridates, where they

hired themselves out, and took employment in the king's

service. Afterwards, whilst the Romans were embroiled in their

civil wars, being engaged against one another even before the

very gates of Rome, the seas lay waste and unguarded, and by

degrees enticed and drew them on not only to seize upon and

spoil the merchants and ships upon the seas, but also to lay

waste the islands and seaport towns. So that now there

embarked with these pirates men of wealth and noble birth and

superior abilities, as if it had been a natural occupation to

gain distinction in. They had divers arsenals, or piratic

harbors, as likewise watch towers and beacons, all along the

sea-coast; and fleets were here received that were well manned

with the finest mariners, and well served with the expertest

pilots, and composed of swift sailing and light-built vessels

adapted for their special purpose. Nor was it merely their

being thus formidable that excited indignation; they were even

more odious for their ostentation than they were feared for

their force. Their ships had gilded masts at their stems; the

sails woven of purple, and the oars plated with silver, as if

their delight were to glory in their iniquity. There was

nothing but music and dancing, banqueting and revels, all along

the shore. Officers in command were taken prisoners, and

cities put under contribution, to the reproach and dishonor of

the Roman supremacy. There were of these corsairs above one

thousand sail, and they had taken no less than four hundred

cities, committing sacrilege upon the temples of the gods, and

enriching themselves with the spoils of many never violated

before, such as were those of Claros, Didyma, and Samothrace;

and the temple of the Earth in Hermione, and that of

Aesculapius in Epidaurus, those of Neptune at the Isthmus, at

Taenarus, and at Calauria; those of Apollo at Actium and

Leucas, and those of Juno, in Samos, at Argos, and at Lacinium.

They themselves offered strange sacrifices upon Mount Olympus,

and performed certain secret rites or religious mysteries,

among which those of Mithras have been preserved to our own

time, having received their previous institution from them.

But besides these insolencies by sea, they were also injurious

to the Romans by land; for they would often go inland up the

roads, plundering and destroying their villages and

country-houses. And once they seized upon two Roman praetors,

Sextilius and Bellinus, in their purple-edged robes, and

carried them off together with their officers and lictors. The

daughter also of Antonius, a man that had had the honor of a

triumph, taking a journey into the country, was seized, and

redeemed upon payment of a large ransom. But it was most

abusive of all, that when any of the captives declared himself

to be a Roman and told his name, they affected to be surprised,

and feigning fear, smote their thighs and fell down at his

feet, humbly beseeching him to be gracious and forgive them.

The captive seeing them so humble and suppliant, believed them

to be in earnest; and some of them now would proceed to put

Roman shoes on his feet, and to dress him in a Roman gown, to

prevent, they said, his being mistaken another time. After all

this pageantry, when they had thus deluded and mocked him long

enough, at last putting out a ship's ladder, when they were in

the midst of the sea, they told him he was free to go, and

wished him a pleasant journey; and if he resisted, they

themselves threw him overboard, and drowned him.

This piratic power having got the dominion and control of all

the Mediterranean, there was left no place for navigation or

commerce. And this it was which most of all made the Romans,

finding themselves to be extremely straitened in their markets,

and considering that if it should continue, there would be a

dearth and famine in the land, determine at last to send out

Pompey to recover the seas from the pirates. Gabinius, one of

Pompey's friends, preferred a law, whereby there was granted to

him, not only the government of the seas as admiral, but in

direct words, sole and irresponsible sovereignty over all men.

For the decree gave him absolute power and authority in all the

seas within the pillars of Hercules, and in the adjacent

mainland for the space of four hundred furlongs from the sea.

Now there were but few regions in the Roman empire out of that

compass; and the greatest of the nations and most powerful of

the kings were included in the limit. Moreover by this decree

he had a power of selecting fifteen lieutenants out of the

senate, and of assigning to each his province in charge; then

he might take likewise out of the treasury and out of the hands

of the revenue-farmers what moneys he pleased; as also two

hundred sail of ships, with a power to press and levy what

soldiers and seamen he thought fit. When this law was read,

the common people approved of it exceedingly, but the chief men

and most important among the senators looked upon it as an

exorbitant power, even beyond the reach of envy, but well

deserving their fears. Therefore concluding with themselves

that such unlimited authority was dangerous, they agreed

unanimously to oppose the bill, and all went against it, except

Caesar, who gave his vote for the law, not to gratify Pompey,

but the people, whose favor he had courted underhand from the

beginning, and hoped to compass for himself. The rest

inveighed bitterly against Pompey, insomuch that one of the

consuls told him, that if he was ambitious of the place of

Romulus, he would scarce avoid his end, but he was in danger of

being torn in pieces by the multitude for his speech. Yet when

Catulus stood up to speak against the law, the people in

reverence to him were silent and attentive. And when, after

saying much in the most honorable terms in favor of Pompey, he

proceeded to advise the people in kindness to spare him, and

not to expose a man of his value to such a succession of

dangers and wars, "For," said he, "where could you find another

Pompey, or whom would you have in case you should chance to

lose him?" they all cried out with one voice, "Yourself." And

so Catulus, finding all his rhetoric ineffectual, desisted.

Then Roscius attempted to speak, but could obtain no hearing,

and made signs with his fingers, intimating, "Not him alone,"

but that there might be a second Pompey or colleague in

authority with him. Upon this, it is said, the multitude being

extremely incensed, made such a loud outcry, that a crow flying

over the market-place at that instant was struck, and drops

down among the crowd; whence it would appear that the cause of

birds falling down to the ground, is not any rupture or

division of the air causing a vacuum, but purely the actual

stroke of the voice, which when carried up in a great mass and

with violence, raises a sort of tempest and billow, as it were,

in the air.

The assembly broke up for that day; and when the day was come,

on which the bill was to pass by suffrage into a decree, Pompey

went privately into the country; but hearing that it was passed

and confirmed, he resumed again into the city by night, to

avoid the envy that might be occasioned by the concourse of

people that would meet and congratulate him. The next morning

he came abroad and sacrificed to the gods, and having audience

at an open assembly, so handled the matter that they enlarged

his power, giving him many things besides what was already

granted, and almost doubling the preparation appointed in the

former decree. Five hundred ships were manned for him, and an

army raised of one hundred and twenty thousand foot, and five

thousand horse. Twenty-four senators that had been generals of

armies were appointed to serve as lieutenants under him, and to

these were added two quaestors. Now it happened within this

time that the prices of provisions were much reduced, which

gave an occasion to the joyful people of saying, that the very

name of Pompey had ended the war. However, Pompey in pursuance

of his charge divided all the seas, and the whole Mediterranean

into thirteen parts, allotting a squadron to each, under the

command of his officers; and having thus dispersed his power

into all quarters, and encompassed the pirates everywhere, they

began to fall into his hands by whole shoals, which he seized

and brought into his harbors. As for those that withdrew

themselves betimes, or otherwise escaped his general chase,

they all made to Cilicia, where they hid themselves as in their

hive; against whom Pompey now proceeded in person with sixty of

his best ships, not however until he had first scoured and

cleared all the seas near Rome, the Tyrrhenian, and the

African, and all the waters of Sardinia, Corsica, and Sicily;

all which he performed in the space of forty days, by his own

indefatigable industry and the zeal of his lieutenants.

Pompey met with some interruption in Rome, through the malice

and envy of Piso, the consul, who had given some check to his

proceedings, by withholding his stores and discharging his

seamen; whereupon he sent his fleet round to Brundusium,

himself going the nearest way by land through Tuscany to Rome;

which was no sooner known by the people, than they all flocked

out to meet him upon the way, as if they had not sent him out

but few days before. What chiefly excited their joy, was the

unexpectedly rapid change in the markets, which abounded now

with the greatest plenty, so that Piso was in great danger to

have been deprived of his consulship, Gabinius having a law

ready prepared for that purpose; but Pompey forbade it,

behaving himself as in that, so in all things else, with great

moderation, and when he had made sure of all that he wanted or

desired, he departed for Brundusium, whence he set sail in

pursuit of the pirates. And though he was straitened in time,

and his hasty voyage forced him to sail by several cities

without touching, yet he would not pass by the city of Athens

unsaluted; but landing there, after he had sacrificed to the

gods, and made an address to the people, as he was returning

out of the city, he read at the gates two epigrams, each in a

single line, written in his own praise; one within the gate: --

Thy humbler thoughts make thee a god the more;

the other without: --

Adieu we bid, who welcome bade before.

Now because Pompey had shown himself merciful to some of these

pirates that were yet roving in bodies about the seas, having

upon their supplication ordered a seizure of their ships and

persons only, without any further process or severity,

therefore the rest of their comrades in hopes of mercy too,

made their escape from his other commanders, and surrendered

themselves with their wives and children into his protection.

He continued to pardon all that came in, and the rather because

by them he might make discovery of those who fled from his

justice, as conscious that their crimes were beyond an act of

indemnity. The most numerous and important part of these

conveyed their families and treasures, with all their people

that were unfit for war, into castles and strong forts about

Mount Taurus; but they themselves having well manned their

galleys, embarked for Coracesium in Cilicia, where they

received Pompey and gave him battle. Here they had a final

overthrow, and retired to the land, where they were besieged.

At last, having dispatched their heralds to him with a

submission, they delivered up to his mercy themselves, their

towns, islands, and strong-holds, all which they had so

fortified that they were almost impregnable, and scarcely even

accessible.

Thus was this war ended, and the whole power of the pirates at

sea dissolved everywhere in the space of three months, wherein,

besides a great number of other vessels, he took ninety

men-of-war with brazen beaks; and likewise prisoners of war to

the number of no less than twenty thousand.

As regarded the disposal of these prisoners, he never so much

as entertained the thought of putting them to death; and yet it

might be no less dangerous on the other hand to disperse them,

as they might reunite and make head again, being numerous,

poor, and warlike. Therefore wisely weighing with himself,

that man by nature is not a wild or unsocial creature, neither

was he born so, but makes himself what he naturally is not, by

vicious habit; and that again on the other side, he is

civilized and grows gentle by a change of place, occupation,

and manner of life, as beasts themselves that are wild by

nature, become tame and tractable by housing and gentler usage,

upon this consideration he determined to translate these

pirates from sea to land, and give them a taste of an honest

and innocent course of life, by living in towns, and tilling

the ground. Some therefore were admitted into the small and

half-peopled towns of the Cilicians, who for an enlargement of

their territories, were willing to receive them. Others he

planted in the city of the Solians, which had been lately laid

waste by Tigranes, king of Armenia, and which he now restored.

But the largest number were settled in Dyme, the town of

Achaea, at that time extremely depopulated, and possessing an

abundance of good land.

However, these proceedings could not escape the envy and

censure of his enemies; and the course he took against Metellus

in Crete was disapproved of even by the chiefest of his

friends. For Metellus, a relation of Pompey's former colleague

in Spain, had been sent praetor into Crete, before this

province of the seas was assigned to Pompey. Now Crete was the

second source of pirates next to Cilicia, and Metellus having

shut up a number of them in their strong-holds there, was

engaged in reducing and extirpating them. Those that were yet

remaining and besieged sent their supplications to Pompey, and

invited him into the island as a part of his province, alleging

it to fall, every part of it, within the distance from the sea

specified in his commission, and so within the precincts of his

charge. Pompey receiving the submission, sent letters to

Metellus, commanding him to leave off the war; and others in

like manner to the cities, in which he charged them not to

yield any obedience to the commands of Metellus. And after

these, he sent Lucius Octavius, one of his lieutenants, to act

as general, who entering the besieged fortifications, and

fighting in defense of the pirates, rendered Pompey not odious

only, but even ridiculous too; that he should lend his name as

a guard to a nest of thieves, that knew neither god nor law,

and make his reputation serve as a sanctuary to them, only out

of pure envy and emulation to Metellus. For neither was

Achilles thought to act the part of a man, but rather of a mere

boy, mad after glory, when by signs he forbade the rest of the

Greeks to strike at Hector: --

"for fear

Some other hand should give the blow, and he

Lose the first honor of the victory."

Whereas Pompey even sought to preserve the common enemies of

the world, only that he might deprive a Roman praetor, after

all his labors, of the honor of a triumph. Metellus however

was not daunted, but prosecuted the war against the pirates,

expelled them from their strongholds and punished them; and

dismissed Octavius with the insults and reproaches of the whole

camp.

When the news came to Rome that the war with the pirates was at

an end, and that Pompey was unoccupied, diverting himself in

visits to the cities for want of employment, one Manlius, a

tribune of the people, preferred a law that Pompey should have

all the forces of Lucullus, and the provinces under his

government, together with Bithynia, which was under the command

of Glabrio; and that he should forthwith conduct the war

against the two kings, Mithridates and Tigranes, retaining

still the same naval forces and the sovereignty of the seas as

before. But this was nothing less than to constitute one

absolute monarch of all the Roman empire. For the provinces

which seemed to be exempt from his commission by the former

decree, such as were Phrygia, Lycaonia, Galatia, Cappadocia,

Cilicia, the upper Colchis, and Armenia, were all added in by

this latter law, together with all the troops and forces with

which Lucullus had defeated Mithridates and Tigranes. And

though Lucullus was thus simply robbed of the glory of his

achievements in having a successor assigned him, rather to the

honor of his triumph, than the danger of the war; yet this was

of less moment in the eyes of the aristocratical party, though

they could not but admit the injustice and ingratitude to

Lucullus. But their great grievance was, that the power of

Pompey should be converted into a manifest tyranny; and they

therefore exhorted and encouraged one another privately to bend

all their forces in opposition to this law, and not tamely to

cast away their liberty; yet when the day came on which it was

to pass into a decree, their hearts failed them for fear of the

people, and all were silent except Catulus, who boldly

inveighed against the law and its proposer, and when he found

that he could do nothing with the people, turned to the senate,

crying out and bidding them seek out some mountain as their

forefathers had done, and fly to the rocks where they might

preserve their liberty. The law passed into a decree, as it is

said, by the suffrages of all the tribes. And Pompey in his

absence was made lord of almost all that power, which Sylla

only obtained by force of arms, after a conquest of the very

city itself. When Pompey had advice by letters of the decree,

it is said that in the presence of his friends, who came to

give him joy of his honor, he seemed displeased, frowning and

smiting his thigh, and exclaimed as one overburdened, and weary

of government, "Alas, what a series of labors upon labors! If

I am never to end my service as a soldier, nor to escape from

this invidious greatness, and live at home in the country with

my wife, I had better have been an unknown man." But all this

was looked upon as mere trifling, neither indeed could the best

of his friends call it anything else, well knowing that his

enmity with Lucullus, setting a flame just now to his natural

passion for glory and empire, made him feel more than usually

gratified.

As indeed appeared not long afterwards by his actions, which

clearly unmasked him; for in the first place, he sent out his

proclamations into all quarters, commanding the soldiers to

join him, and summoned all the tributary kings and princes

within his charge; and in short, as soon as he had entered upon

his province, he left nothing unaltered that had been done and

established by Lucullus. To some he remitted their penalties,

and deprived others of their rewards, and acted in all respects

as if with the express design that the admirers of Lucullus

might know that all his authority was at an end. Lucullus

expostulated by friends, and it was thought fitting that there

should be a meeting betwixt them; and accordingly they met in

the country of Galatia. As they were both great and successful

generals, their officers bore their rods before them all

wreathed with branches of laurel; Lucullus came through a

country full of green trees and shady woods, but Pompey's march

was through a cold and barren district. Therefore the lictors

of Lucullus, perceiving that Pompey's laurels were withered and

dry, helped him to some of their own, and adorned and crowned

his rods with fresh laurels. This was thought ominous, and

looked as if Pompey came to take away the reward and honor of

Lucullus's victories. Lucullus had the priority in the order

of consulships, and also in age; but Pompey's two triumphs made

him the greater man. Their first addresses in this interview

were dignified and friendly, each magnifying the other's

actions, and offering congratulations upon his success. But

when they came to the matter of their conference or treaty,

they could agree on no fair or equitable terms of any kind, but

even came to harsh words against each other, Pompey upbraiding

Lucullus with avarice, and Lucullus retorting ambition upon

Pompey, so that their friends could hardly part them.

Lucullus, remaining in Galatia, made a distribution of the

lands within his conquests, and gave presents to whom he

pleased; and Pompey encamping not far distant from him, sent

out his prohibitions, forbidding the execution of any of the

orders of Lucullus, and commanded away all his soldiers, except

sixteen hundred, whom he thought likely to be unserviceable to

himself, being disorderly and mutinous, and whom he knew to be

hostile to Lucullus; and to these acts he added satirical

speeches, detracting openly from the glory of his actions, and

giving out, that the battles of Lucullus had been but with the

mere stage-shows and idle pictures of royal pomp, whereas the

real war against a genuine army, disciplined by defeat, was

reserved to him, Mithridates having now begun to be in earnest,

and having betaken himself to his shields, swords, and horses.

Lucullus, on the other side, to be even with him, replied, that

Pompey came to fight with the mere image and shadow of war, it

being his usual practice, like a lazy bird of prey, to come

upon the carcass, when others had slain the dead, and to tear

in pieces the relics of a war. Thus he had appropriated to

himself the victories over Sertorius, over Lepidus, and over

the insurgents under Spartacus; whereas this last had been

achieved by Crassus, that obtained by Catulus, and the first

won by Metellus. And therefore it was no great wonder, that

the glory of the Pontic and Armenian war should be usurped by a

man who had condescended to any artifices to work himself into

the honor of a triumph over a few runaway slaves.

After this Lucullus went away, and Pompey having placed his

whole navy in guard upon the seas betwixt Phoenicia and

Bosporus, himself marched against Mithridates, who had a

phalanx of thirty thousand foot, with two thousand horse, yet

durst not bid him battle. He had encamped upon a strong

mountain where it would have been hard to attack him, but

abandoned it in no long time, as destitute of water. No sooner

was he gone but Pompey occupied it, and observing the plants

that were thriving there, together with the hollows which he

found in several places, conjectured that such a plot could not

be without springs, and therefore ordered his men to sink wells

in every corner. After which there was, in a little time,

great plenty of water throughout all the camp, insomuch that he

wondered how it was possible for Mithridates to be ignorant of

this, during all that time of his encampment there. After this

Pompey followed him to his next camp, and there drawing lines

round about him, shut him in. But he, after having endured a

siege of forty-five days, made his escape secretly, and fled

away with all the best part of his army, having first put to

death all the sick and unserviceable. Not long after Pompey

overtook him again near the banks of the river Euphrates, and

encamped close by him; but fearing lest he should pass over the

river and give him the slip there too, he drew up his army to

attack him at midnight. And at that very time Mithridates, it

is said, saw a vision in his dream foreshowing what should come

to pass. For he seemed to be under sail in the Euxine Sea with

a prosperous gale, and just in view of Bosporus, discoursing

pleasantly with the ship's company, as one overjoyed for his

past danger and present security, when on a sudden he found

himself deserted of all, and floating upon a broken plank of

the ship at the mercy of the sea. Whilst he was thus laboring

under these passions and phantasms, his friends came and awaked

him with the news of Pompey's approach; who was now indeed so

near at hand, that the fight must be for the camp itself, and

the commanders accordingly drew up the forces in battle array.

Pompey perceiving how ready they were and well prepared for

defense, began to doubt with himself whether he should put it

to the hazard of a fight in the dark, judging it more prudent

to encompass them only at present, lest they should fly, and to

give them battle with the advantage of numbers the next day.

But his oldest officers were of another opinion, and by

entreaties and encouragements obtained permission that they

might charge them immediately. Neither was the night so very

dark, but that, though the moon was going down, it yet gave

light enough to discern a body. And indeed this was one

especial disadvantage to the king's army. For the Romans

coming upon them with the moon on their backs, the moon, being

very low, and just upon setting, cast the shadows a long way

before their bodies, reaching almost to the enemy, whose eyes

were thus so much deceived that not exactly discerning the

distance, but imagining them to be near at hand, they threw

their darts at the shadows, without the least execution. The

Romans therefore perceiving this, ran in upon them with a great

shout; but the barbarians, all in a panic, unable to endure the

charge, turned and fled, and were put to great slaughter, above

ten thousand being slain; the camp also was taken. As for

Mithridates himself, he at the beginning of the onset, with a

body of eight hundred horse charged through the Roman army, and

made his escape. But before long all the rest dispersed, some

one way, some another, and he was left only with three persons,

among whom was his concubine, Hypsicratia, a girl always of a

manly and daring spirit, and the king called her on that

account Hypsicrates. She being attired and mounted like a

Persian horseman, accompanied the king in all his flight, never

weary even in the longest journey, nor ever failing to attend

the king in person, and look after his horse too, until they

came to Inora, a castle of the king's, well stored with gold

and treasure. From thence Mithridates took his richest

apparel, and gave it among those that had resorted to him in

their flight; and to every one of his friends he gave a deadly

poison, that they might not fall into the power of the enemy

against their wills. From thence he designed to have gone to

Tigranes in Armenia, but being prohibited by Tigranes, who put

out a proclamation with a reward of one hundred talents to any

one that should apprehend him, he passed by the head-waters of

the river Euphrates, and fled through the country of Colchis.

Pompey in the meantime made an invasion into Armenia, upon the

invitation of young Tigranes, who was now in rebellion against

his father, and gave Pompey a meeting about the river Araxes,

which rises near the head of Euphrates, but turning its course

and bending towards the east, falls into the Caspian Sea. They

two, therefore, marched together through the country, taking in

all the cities by the way, and receiving their submission. But

king Tigranes, having lately suffered much in the war with

Lucullus, and understanding that Pompey was of a kind and

gentle disposition, admitted Roman troops into his royal

palaces, and taking along with him his friends and relations,

went in person to surrender himself into the hands of Pompey.

He came as far as the trenches on horseback, but there he was

met by two of Pompey's lictors, who commanded him to alight and

walk on foot, for no man ever was seen on horseback within a

Roman camp. Tigranes submitted to this immediately, and not

only so, but loosing his sword, delivered up that too; and last

of all, as soon as he appeared before Pompey, he pulled off his

royal turban, and attempted to have laid it at his feet. Nay,

worst of all, even he himself had fallen prostrate as an humble

suppliant at his knees, had not Pompey prevented it, taking him

by the hand and placing him near him, Tigranes himself on one

side of him and his son upon the other. Pompey now told him

that the rest of his losses were chargeable upon Lucullus, by

whom he had been dispossessed of Syria, Phoenicia, Cilicia,

Galatia, and Sophene; but all that he had preserved to himself

entire till that time he should peaceably enjoy, paying the sum

of six thousand talents as a fine or penalty for injuries done

to the Romans, and that his son should have the kingdom of

Sophene. Tigranes himself was well pleased with these

conditions of peace, and when the Romans saluted him king,

seemed to be overjoyed, and promised to every common soldier

half a mina of silver, to every centurion ten minas, and to

every tribune a talent; but the son was displeased, insomuch

that when he was invited to supper, he replied, that he did not

stand in need of Pompey for that sort of honor, for he would

find out some other Roman to sup with. Upon this he was put

into close arrest, and reserved for the triumph.

Not long after this Phraates, king of Parthia, sent to Pompey,

and demanded to have young Tigranes, as his son-in-law, given

up to him, and that the river Euphrates should be the boundary

of the empires. Pompey replied, that for Tigranes, he belonged

more to his own natural father than his father-in-law, and for

the boundaries, he would take care that they should be

according to right and justice.

So Pompey, leaving Armenia in the custody of Afranius, went

himself in chase of Mithridates; to do which he was forced of

necessity to march through several nations inhabiting about

Mount Caucasus. Of these the Albanians and Iberians were the

two chiefest. The Iberians stretch out as far as the Moschian

mountains and the Pontus; the Albanians lie more eastwardly,

and towards the Caspian Sea. These Albanians at first

permitted Pompey, upon his request, to pass through the

country; but when winter had stolen upon the Romans whilst they

were still in the country, and they were busy celebrating the

festival of Saturn, they mustered a body of no less than forty

thousand fighting men, and set upon them, having passed over

the river Cyrnus, which rising from the mountains of Iberia,

and receiving the river Araxes in its course from Armenia,

discharges itself by twelve mouths into the Caspian. Or,

according to others, the Araxes does not fall into it, but they

flow near one another, and so discharge themselves as neighbors

into the same sea. It was in the power of Pompey to have

obstructed the enemy's passage over the river, but he suffered

them to pass over quietly; and then leading on his forces and

giving battle, he routed them, and slew great numbers of them

in the field. The king sent ambassadors with his submission,

and Pompey upon his supplication pardoned the offense, and

making a treaty with him, he marched directly against the

Iberians, a nation no less in number than the other, but much

more warlike, and extremely desirous of gratifying Mithridates,

and driving out Pompey. These Iberians were never subject to

the Medes or Persians, and they happened likewise to escape the

dominion of the Macedonians, because Alexander was so quick in

his march through Hyrcania. But these also Pompey subdued in a

great battle, where there were slain nine thousand upon the

spot, and more than ten thousand taken prisoners. From thence

he entered into the country of Colchis, where Servilius met him

by the river Phasis, bringing the fleet with which he was

guarding the Pontus.

The pursuit of Mithridates, who had thrown himself among the

tribes inhabiting Bosporus and the shores of the Maeotian Sea,

presented great difficulties. News was also brought to Pompey

that the Albanians had again revolted. This made him turn

back, out of anger and determination not to be beaten by them,

and with difficulty and great danger he passed back over the

Cyrnus, which the barbarous people had fortified a great way

down the banks with palisadoes. And after this, having a

tedious march to make through a waterless and difficult

country, he ordered ten thousand skins to be filled with water,

and so advanced towards the enemy; whom he found drawn up in

order of battle near the river Abas, to the number of sixty

thousand horse, and twelve thousand foot, ill armed generally,

and most of them covered only with the skins of wild beasts.

Their general was Cosis, the king's brother, who as soon as the

battle was begun, singled out Pompey, and rushing in upon him,

darted his javelin into the joints of his breastplate; while

Pompey, in return, struck him through the body with his lance,

and slew him. It is related that in this battle there were

Amazons fighting as auxiliaries with the barbarians, and that

they came down from the mountains by the river Thermodon. For

that after the battle, when the Romans were taking the spoil

and plunder of the field, they met with several targets and

buskins of the Amazons; but no woman's body was found among the

dead. They inhabit the parts of Mount Caucasus that reach down

to the Hyrcanian Sea, not immediately bordering upon the

Albanians, for the Gelae and the Leges lie betwixt; and they

keep company with these people yearly, for two months only,

near the river Thermodon; after which they retire to their own

habitations, and live alone all the rest of the year.

After this engagement, Pompey was eager to advance with his

forces upon the Hyrcanian and Caspian Sea, but was forced to

retreat at a distance of three days' march from it, by the

number of venomous serpents, and so he retreated into Armenia

the Less. Whilst he was there, kings of the Elymaeans and Medes

sent ambassadors to him, to whom he gave friendly answer by

letter; and sent against the king of Parthia, who had made

incursions upon Gordyene, and despoiled the subjects of

Tigranes, an army under the command of Afranius, who put him to

the rout, and followed him in chase as far as the district of

Arbela.

Of the concubines of king Mithridates that were brought before

Pompey, he took none to himself, but sent them all away to

their parents and relations; most of them being either the

daughters or wives of princes and great commanders.

Stratonice, however, who had the greatest power and influence

with him, and to whom he had committed the custody of his best

and richest fortress, had been, it seems, the daughter of a

musician, an old man, and of no great fortune, and happening to

sing one night before Mithridates at a banquet, she struck his

fancy so, that immediately he took her with him, and sent away

the old man much dissatisfied, the king having not so much as

said one kind word to himself. But when he rose in the

morning, and saw tables in his house richly covered with gold

and silver plate, a great retinue of servants, eunuchs, and

pages, bringing him rich garments, and a horse standing before

the door richly caparisoned, in all respects as was usual with

the king's favorites, he looked upon it all as a piece of

mockery, and thinking himself trifled with, attempted to make

off and run away. But the servants laying hold upon him, and

informing him really that the king had bestowed on him the

house and furniture of a rich man lately deceased, and that

these were but the first-fruits or earnests of greater riches

and possessions that were to come, he was persuaded at last

with much difficulty to believe them. And so putting on his

purple robes, and mounting his horse, he rode through the city,

crying out, "All this is mine;" and to those that laughed at

him, he said, there was no such wonder in this, but it was a

wonder rather that he did not throw stones at all he met, he

was so transported with joy. Such was the parentage and blood

of Stratonice. She now delivered up this castle into the hands

of Pompey, and offered him many presents of great value, of

which he accepted only such as he thought might serve to adorn

the temples of the gods, and add to the splendor of his

triumph; the rest he left to Stratonice's disposal, bidding her

please herself in the enjoyment of them.

And in the same manner he dealt with the presents offered him

by the king of Iberia, who sent him a bedstead, table, and a

chair of state, all of gold, desiring him to accept of them;

but he delivered them all into the custody of the public

treasurers, for the use of the Commonwealth.

In another castle called Caenum, Pompey found and read with

pleasure several secret writings of Mithridates, containing

much that threw light on his character. For there were memoirs

by which it appeared that besides others, he had made away with

his son Ariarathes by poison, as also with Alcaeus the Sardian,

for having robbed him of the first honors in a horse-race.

There were several judgments upon the interpretation of dreams,

which either he himself or some of his mistresses had had; and

besides these, there was a series of wanton letters to and from

his concubine Monime. Theophanes tells us that there was found

also an address by Rutilius, in which he attempted to

exasperate him to the laughter of all the Romans in Asia;

though most men justly conjecture this to be a malicious

invention of Theophanes, who probably hated Rutilius because he

was a man in nothing like himself; or perhaps it might be to

gratify Pompey, whose father is described by Rutilius in his

history, as the vilest man alive.

From thence Pompey came to the city of Amisus, where his

passion for glory put him into a position which might be called

a punishment on himself. For whereas he had often sharply

reproached Lucullus, in that while the enemy was still living,

he had taken upon him to issue decrees, and distribute rewards

and honors, as conquerors usually do only when the war is

brought to an end, yet now was he himself, while Mithridates

was paramount in the kingdom of Bosporus, and at the head of a

powerful army, as if all were ended, just doing the same thing,

regulating the provinces, and distributing rewards, many great

commanders and princes having flocked to him, together with no

less than twelve barbarian kings; insomuch that to gratify

these other kings, when he wrote to the king of Parthia, he

would not condescend, as others used to do, in the

superscription of his letter, to give him his title of king of

kings.

Moreover, he had a great desire and emulation to occupy Syria,

and to march through Arabia to the Red Sea, that he might thus

extend his conquests every way to the great ocean that

encompasses the habitable earth; as in Africa he was the first

Roman that advanced his victories to the ocean; and again in

Spain he made the Atlantic Sea the limit of the empire; and

then thirdly, in his late pursuit of the Albanians, he had

wanted but little of reaching the Hyrcanian Sea. Accordingly

he raised his camp, designing to bring the Red Sea within the

circuit of his expedition, especially as he saw how difficult

it was to hunt after Mithridates with an army, and that he

would prove a worse enemy flying than fighting. But yet he

declared, that he would leave a sharper enemy behind him than

himself, namely, famine; and therefore he appointed a guard

of ships to lie in wait for the merchants that sailed to

Bosporus, death being the penalty for any who should attempt to

carry provisions thither.

Then he set forward with the greatest part of his army, and in

his march casually fell in with several dead bodies still

uninterred, of those soldiers who were slain with Triarius in

his unfortunate engagement with Mithridates; these he buried

splendidly and honorably. The neglect of whom, it is thought,

caused, as much as anything, the hatred that was felt against

Lucullus, and alienated the affections of the soldiers from

him. Pompey having now by his forces under the command of

Afranius, subdued the Arabians about the mountain Amanus,

himself entered Syria, and finding it destitute of any natural

and lawful prince, reduced it into the form of a province, as a

possession of the people of Rome. He conquered also Judaea,

and took its king, Aristobulus, captive. Some cities he built

anew, and to others he gave their liberty, chastising their

tyrants. Most part of the time that he spent there was

employed in the administration of justice, In deciding

controversies of kings and States; and where he himself could

not be present in person, he gave commissions to his friends,

and sent them. Thus when there arose a difference betwixt the

Armenians and Parthians about some territory, and the judgment

was referred to him, he gave a power by commission to three

judges and arbiters to hear and determine the controversy. For

the reputation of his power was great; nor was the fame of his

justice and clemency inferior to that of his power, and served

indeed as a veil for a multitude of faults committed by his

friends and familiars. For although it was not in his nature

to check or chastise wrongdoers, yet he himself always treated

those that had to do with him in such a manner, that they

submitted to endure with patience the acts of covetousness and

oppression done by others.

Among these friends of his, there was one Demetrius who had the

greatest influence with him of all; he was a freed slave, a

youth of good understanding, but somewhat too insolent in his

good fortune, of whom there goes this story. Cato, the

philosopher, being as yet a very young man, but of great repute

and a noble mind, took a journey of pleasure to Antioch, at a

time when Pompey was not there, having a great desire to see

the city. He, as his custom was, walked on foot, and his

friends accompanied him on horseback; and seeing before the

gates of the city a multitude dressed in white, the young men

on one side of the road, and the boys on the other, he was

somewhat offended at it, imagining that it was officiously done

in honor of him, which was more than he had any wish for.

However, he desired his companions to alight and walk with him;

but when they drew near, the master of the ceremonies in this

procession came out with a garland and a rod in his hand, and

met them, inquiring, where they had left Demetrius, and when he

would come? Upon which Cato's companions burst out into

laughter, but Cato said only, "Alas, poor city!" and passed by

without any other answer. However, Pompey rendered Demetrius

less odious to others by enduring his presumption and

impertinence to himself. For it is reported how that Pompey,

when he had invited his friends to an entertainment, would be

very ceremonious in waiting, till they all came and were

placed, while Demetrius would be already stretched upon the

couch as if he cared for no one, with his dress over his ears,

hanging down from his head. Before his return into Italy, he

had purchased the pleasantest country-seat about Rome, with the

finest walks and places for exercise, and there were sumptuous

gardens, called by the name of Demetrius, while Pompey his

master, up to his third triumph, was contented with an ordinary

and simple habitation. Afterwards, it is true, when he had

erected his famous and stately theater for the people of Rome,

he built as a sort of appendix to it, a house for himself, much

more splendid than his former, and yet no object even this to

excite men's envy, since he who came to be master of it after

Pompey could not but express wonder and inquire where Pompey

the Great used to sup. Such is the story told us.