Book 12

Aspasia, the daughter of Hermotimus, the Phocaean, was reared in orphanhood, her mother having died in childbirth. So Aspasia was brought up in poverty, yet temperately and with endurance. A dream came to her often and foretold good things, hinting at her future fortune, that she would live with a man of nobility and worth. While she was still a child, there appeared on her face, just below the chin, a tumour, ugly to see, and it grieved both her father and the girl. So her father showed her to a physician; and he promised to heal it if he received three staters. The father said he had not the money, and the physician said that he himself had no remedy at hand. Aspasia was distressed, as was natural, at this, and going out of doors she wept; and holding a mirror on her knees and seeing herself in it, she was greatly pained. As she had eaten no dinner because of her grief, a very timely sleep came upon her, and with the sleep a dove appeared, and turning into a woman it said: "Take heart, and bid a long farewell to physicians and their remedies; take of the rose-garlands of Aphrodite, however dry they may now be, and rubbing them fine sprinkle them on the tumour." When the girl had heard this and done it, the tumour vanished; and Aspasia was again the fairest of her companions, having received back her beauty from the fairest of the goddesses. And she had an abundance of graces, as no other maiden of that time; her hair was golden and lightly curling, her eyes were very large, her nose a little hooked, and her ears very small. Her skin was tender, and the colour of her face was like roses. For this reason the Phocaeans, while she was still a child, called her Milto. Her lips too showed red, and her teeth were whiter than snow. Her ankles were fine, of the kind that Homer, in his own speech, gives to the most beautiful women, calling them "fair-ankled." Her voice was sweet and tender: one would have said, hearing her speak, that he was hearing a Siren. From all the busyness and fussiness of women she was free. For wealth tends to supply such things; but she, being poor and reared by a father who was himself poor, contributed nothing fussy or superfluous to her appearance. Now Aspasia once came to Cyrus, the son of Darius and Parysatis, the brother of Artaxerxes — not willingly, nor with her father's consent, but by force, such as often befalls when cities are captured or tyrants or satraps use violence. One of Cyrus's satraps, then, brought her up to Cyrus along with other maidens, and very quickly she was preferred above the other concubines for the simplicity of her character and the modesty of her manner and because she was beautiful without artifice. There helped her too, toward being loved beyond measure, the fact that she had understanding. Often, indeed, Cyrus used her as an adviser even in pressing matters, and when persuaded he did not repent of it. When Aspasia first came to Cyrus, he happened to have just risen from dinner and was about to drink in the Persian manner; for after they have eaten their fill, the Persians give themselves up zealously to wine and to toasts, as though stripping for a contest with the drink as their rival. In the middle of the drinking, then, four Greek maidens were brought before Cyrus, among them Aspasia of Phocaea. They were most finely got up; for three of them had had their hair plaited and their faces painted with cosmetics and pigments by their own attendant women, who happened to have come up with them. They had also been taught by their nurses how they must approach Cyrus and how to flatter him, and not to turn away when he came near, nor to be displeased at his touch, nor to refuse his kiss — courtesan's lessons indeed, and the practices of women who trade hucksterishly on their beauty. So they vied with one another to surpass each other in beauty. But Aspasia would not put on a costly tunic, nor consented to wrap herself in an embroidered robe, nor would she submit to bathe, but calling on all the Greek and Liberating gods, she cried aloud her father's name, and cursed herself and her father, believing that the dress and elaborate adornment of her body, contrary to her habit, was a plain and confessed slavery. When struck, she put it on by compulsion, and yielded to the orders, grieving nonetheless that she was forced to do not maidenly but courtesan's things. So the others, coming forward, looked Cyrus in the face and smiled and assumed a cheerful air; but Aspasia looked down, and her face was filled with deep flushes of fiery red, and her eyes brimmed with tears, and in every way she was plainly ashamed. When he bade the women sit near him, the rest obeyed quite readily, but the Phocaean paid no heed to the command, until the satrap who had brought her sat her down by force. And when Cyrus touched them and examined their eyes and their cheeks and their fingers, the others bore it, but she would not endure it; for when Cyrus merely touched her with the tip of his hand, she cried out and said he would weep for doing such things. Cyrus was greatly delighted at this. And when she rose up and tried to flee, because he had touched her breasts, then indeed the son of Darius admired her nobility in a manner not Persian, and looking at the man who had bought her he said: "This one alone you have brought me free and undefiled; the rest are hucksterish both in appearance and still more in manner." From this Cyrus loved her more than any human being with whom he had ever consorted. Some time later Cyrus was deeply in love with her, and was loved in return by her, and their love advanced to such a point that it was near to equality of honour, and not out of tune with the concord and temperance of a Greek marriage. So the fame of his love for Aspasia spread even to Ionia and to all Greece. The Peloponnese too was filled with talk about Cyrus and her, and the report came even to the Great King; for it was believed that Cyrus, after her, would not deign to make trial of any other woman. From this there came back to Aspasia the memory of the old visions, of that dove and of its words and of all that the goddess had foretold; and she believed that the goddess had been her guardian from the beginning, and she offered to Aphrodite rites of initiation and thank-offerings. First, then, she had an image of gold made for her, of sufficient size. She supposed this image to be Aphrodite, and she set beside it a dove studded with jewels; and every day she propitiated the goddess with sacrifices and words of good omen. She sent also to her father Hermotimus many fine gifts, and made him rich. And she lived in temperance, as the Greek and Persian women say. A necklace was once brought to Cyrus from Thessaly, the younger Scopas having sent it; and the gift had been brought to Scopas from Sicily, and the necklace seemed wrought with marvellous art and intricacy. So when all to whom Cyrus showed it were full of wonder, he, greatly pleased with the treasure, went at once to Aspasia's, at midday, and finding her asleep, he slipped under her cloak and lay quietly beside her, and waited without a sound, keeping still himself; and she slept on. When she awoke and saw Cyrus, she embraced him in her wonted way and showed him affection. He, taking the necklace from its little box, showed it, saying that it was worthy either of a king's daughter or of a king's mother. When she agreed, he said: "See, then, I give it to you to have as your own; and put it on, as you are, and show me your neck." But she was not overcome by the gift, but answered very wisely and learnedly: "And how," she said, "shall I dare to put on myself a gift worthy of Parysatis, your mother? Rather send it to her, Cyrus; and I will provide you a fair neck even without it." So Aspasia, high-mindedly and in a manner royal beyond what women do, acted the opposite of what women are wont to do; for they are terribly fond of finery. But Cyrus, pleased with the answer, kissed Aspasia, and writing down each thing that had been done and said in a letter, he sent it to his mother together with the necklace. And Parysatis, receiving the gift, was no less pleased with what was written than with the gold; and in return for this she rewarded Aspasia with great and royal gifts. For this above all delighted her, that although Aspasia stood in very high favour with her son, yet in being loved by Cyrus she wished to be surpassed by Cyrus's mother. So Aspasia praised the gifts, but said she did not need them, since money too had come to her with the gifts, very much of it; and she sent it to Cyrus, saying: "To you, who feed many men, this might be useful; but to me you suffice, being loved, and you are my adornment." By this, as was natural, she astonished Cyrus, and beyond dispute this woman was admired both for the beauty of her body and still more for the nobility of her soul. When Cyrus was killed in the battle against his brother, and Cyrus's camp was taken, she too was captured along with the other spoils — not falling into the enemy's hands at random and by chance, but King Artaxerxes sought her out with much care; for he knew her fame and her excellence. When they brought her to him in bonds, he was indignant, and threw those who had done this into prison, and ordered that costly adornment be given her. But she, unwilling and lamenting and weeping over many things, was forced to put on the king's dress; for she mourned bitterly for Cyrus. Having put it on, she appeared the fairest of women, and at once Artaxerxes was inflamed and consumed, and held her first of his women, and honoured her beyond measure by his eagerness to please her, trusting that he would persuade her to forget Cyrus and would teach her to love him no less than that man. And he attained his hope, but late and slowly; for the goodwill toward Cyrus that had melted into Aspasia had wrought in her, more than anything, a love-charm hard to wash away. Some time later Tiridates the eunuch died, the fairest and most beautiful youth in Asia; he ended his life while still in his bloom and just emerging from boyhood, and the king was said to love him most ardently. From this the king mourned most grievously and grieved most bitterly, and there was public mourning throughout all Asia, all men gratifying the king in this. And no one dared approach him or console him; for they believed that he was incurably affected by what had happened. When three days had passed, Aspasia, putting on a mourning dress, as the king was going off to his bath, stood weeping and looking at the ground; and he, seeing her, was astonished and asked the reason of her coming. And she said: "I have come, O king, to console you in your grief and pain, if it is your wish; but if you are angry, I will go back again." The Persian was greatly pleased at her care, and bade her go up to the chamber and await him; and she did so. When he returned, he put the eunuch's robe over Aspasia's black dress; and somehow the youth's garb suited her, and her beauty shone out all the more to her lover. When once he was won over by this, he begged her, until the keenness of his grief should fade, to come to him dressed thus. And she, to please him, was persuaded; and she alone of all in Asia — not of the women only, they say, but of the king's sons and kinsmen — consoled Artaxerxes and healed the affliction of his grief, the king yielding to her care and wisely persuaded by her consolation.

Epaminondas, when he was mortally wounded at Mantinea, was carried to his tent still breathing, and called for Daiphantus, that he might appoint him general; but they said the man was dead. Then he asked that Iolaidas be called quickly. When he too was said to be dead, he advised them to make terms with the enemy and form a friendship, since no general was left in Thebes.

The Egyptians say that Sesostris was instructed in the laws by Hermes.

Lais the courtesan, as Aristophanes of Byzantium says, was also called "the Axe." This surname convicted her of the savagery of her character.

One may laugh at those who are proud because of their fathers, seeing that among the Romans we do not know the father of Marius, yet we admire him for his deeds; and of Cato the Elder too the father must be sought out.

Alexander crowned the tomb of Achilles, and Hephaestion that of Patroclus, hinting that he too was the beloved of Alexander, as Patroclus was of Achilles.

Cleomenes the Laconian, taking Archonides as a partner from among his companions, made him a sharer in his affairs. So he swore that, if he gained power, he would do everything with his head. Having gained the rule, then, he killed his companion and cut off his head and put it in honey, and whenever he was about to do anything, he would stoop over the vessel and tell all that he was doing, saying that he was not breaking faith nor perjuring himself, but taking counsel with the head of Archonides.

Timesias of Clazomenae governed the Clazomenians well; for he was one of the good men. But envy, which is wont to prevail against such men, prevailed against Timesias too. At first he cared little for being envied, but the following thing, they say, drove him from his country. He was passing by a school; and the boys, having been let out by their teacher, were playing. A dispute arose between two boys over a line, and one of them swore: "So may I dash out the brains of Timesias!" Hearing this, and supposing that envy of him was unrestrained and that he was terribly hated by his citizens, since even the boys hated him — let alone the men — he willingly departed from his country.

The Aeginetans once were the most powerful among the Greeks, having obtained a certain abundance of wealth and good fortune; for they had a naval force and were very great. In the Persian wars too they proved brave, and for this were judged worthy of the prizes of valour. And they first struck coinage, the coin called after them the Aeginetan.

The Romans, beneath the Palatine hill, set up a temple and an altar to Fever.

An adulterer caught in Gortyn was brought before the magistrates; then, convicted, he was crowned with wool. This crowning signified that he was unmanly and womanish and lustful after women. And he was sold publicly and was most dishonoured and had no share in public affairs.

There came from the Hellespont to the Attic courtesan Gnathaena a man as a lover, drawn by her fame. So over the wine he talked much, and seemed tiresome. Gnathaena, taking him up, said to him: "So you say you have come from the Hellespont?" When he agreed, she said: "And how is it you do not know the first of the cities there?" When he said, "And which is this?" she answered, "Sigeum." And by means of the name she fittingly silenced him.

The most beautiful and lovable of men, they say, were, among the Greeks Alcibiades, and among the Romans Scipio. They say too that Demetrius Poliorcetes laid claim to beauty. And Alexander son of Philip, they say, was beautiful without effort; for his hair was swept back and was golden, and there shone forth from his appearance, they say, something awe-inspiring in Alexander.

They say that Heracles rested his labours in the contests with play. The son of Zeus and Alcmene was very fond of playing with children. This Euripides too hints at to us, making this same god say: "I play; for I ever love changes from toil." He says this while holding a child. And Socrates was once caught by Alcibiades playing with Lamprocles, who was still an infant. And Agesilaus, bestriding a reed, rode it with his son, who was a boy, and to the one who laughed he said: "For now be silent, but when you become a father yourself, then you will tell of it." And Archytas of Tarentum too, a statesman and a philosopher, having many household slaves, took great delight in playing with their children, the home-bred slaves; and most of all he liked to delight in them at his banquets.

Alexander son of Philip is said to have been most jealously disposed toward his companions, and to have envied them all, though not for the same reasons. For he was vexed with Perdiccas because he was warlike, with Lysimachus because he seemed a good general, with Seleucus because he was brave; Antigonus's ambition pained him, with Antipater he was vexed for his capacity to command, Ptolemy's cleverness he viewed with suspicion, Tarrias's unruliness he feared, and Pithon's revolutionary spirit.

Demetrius, though he ruled over so many nations, used to go to Lamia the courtesan with his arms and wearing his diadem. It was shameful enough for him even to send for the woman to his house; but he would go to her openly. For my part, I would prefer Theodorus the flute-player to Demetrius, since when Lamia sent for Theodorus, he disdained the summons.

Phaon, who was the fairest of men, Aphrodite hid among the lettuces. Another tale is that he was a ferryman and had this occupation. Aphrodite once came, wishing to cross over, and he received her gladly, not knowing who she was, and with much care brought her wherever she wished. In return the goddess gave him an alabaster jar, and it held an ointment, with which Phaon, anointing himself, became the fairest of men; and the women of Mytilene fell in love with him. At the last, however, he was slain, caught in adultery.

The poetess Sappho, daughter of Scamandronymus — her even Plato son of Ariston records as wise. I learn that there was also another Sappho in Lesbos, a courtesan, not a poetess.

Hesiod says that the nightingale alone of birds has no share in sleep and is wakeful throughout; but that the swallow does not keep wholly wakeful even she, but has lost half her sleep. They pay this penalty for the suffering committed in Thrace, that lawless dinner.

The mothers of the Lacedaemonians, all who learned that their sons lay slain in battle, came and inspected their wounds, both those in front and those behind. And if the wounds in front were more, they, exulting and looking at once proud and stern, carried their sons off to the ancestral tombs; but if it was otherwise with the wounds, then, ashamed and lamenting and eager to escape notice as much as possible, they went away, leaving the dead to be buried in the common grave, or carried them secretly to the family tombs.

They say that Milo of Croton, who was proud because of his bodily strength, met Titormus the cowherd. Seeing, then, that Titormus was great of body to look upon, he wished to make trial of his strength. But Titormus said that he had no great strength, and going down to the Evenus and stripping off his cloak, he took a very large stone, and first drew it toward himself, then pushed it away, and did this twice and three times, and after that raised it as far as his knees, and finally lifting it onto his shoulders carried it some eight fathoms and threw it; but Milo of Croton could barely move the stone. Then Titormus went to the herd, and standing in the midst he took the largest bull, which was wild, by the foot; and the bull was eager to escape, but could not. And as another passed by, he seized it likewise by the foot with his other hand and held it. Milo, seeing this, stretched his hands to heaven and said: "O Zeus, have you not begotten for us a second Heracles in this man?" From this, they say, the proverb arose: "This is another Heracles."

Of men I hear that the Celts are the fondest of danger. At any rate they make the subjects of their songs the men who have died nobly in war. They fight crowned with garlands, and they raise trophies too, at once taking pride in their deeds and leaving behind memorials of their valour in the Greek manner. So shameful do they think it to flee, that they will not run away even from their houses when these are sliding and collapsing, nor even when they are on fire and they are surrounded by the flames. Many even stand fast against the flooding sea. There are some too who, taking up their arms, fall upon the waves and receive their onset, brandishing their naked swords and spears, as though they could either frighten or wound them.

They say that Smindyrides the Sybarite ran aground in such luxury that he came to Sicyon as a suitor of Agariste the daughter of Cleisthenes, and brought with him a thousand cooks, as many fowlers, and a thousand fishermen.

Odysseus profited from Alcinous, and Achilles from Chiron, and Patroclus from Achilles, and Agamemnon from Nestor, and Telemachus from Menelaus, and Hector from Polydamas, in the matters in which he gave heed to him, and the Trojans from Antenor. And the Pythagoreans, the disciples of Pythagoras, profited, and the Democriteans, having associated with Democritus, enjoyed many benefits. And if the Athenians had given heed to Socrates, they would all have become happy. Hiero son of Deinomenes profited from Simonides of Ceos, and Polycrates from Anacreon, and Proxenus from Xenophon, and Antigonus from Zeno. And that I may make mention of those who belong to me no less than the Greeks belong — for this concerns me too, since I am a Roman — Lucullus profited something from Antiochus of Ascalon, and Maecenas from Areius, and Cicero from Apollonius, and Augustus from Athenodorus. And Plato, though wiser than I, says that even Zeus had a counsellor; who, and how, let us learn from him.

The hardest drinkers, they say, have been Xenagoras of Rhodes, whom they called "the Amphora," and Heracleides the boxer, and Proteas the son of Lanice, the foster-brother of King Alexander. And Alexander himself is said to have drunk the most of men.

They say that Heracles behaved most humanely toward his own enemies; for he was the first from the beginning of time to give back the dead under truce to be buried, whereas the men of that time were wont to neglect the slain and leave them to be a meal for dogs.

The Leocorion at Athens was the name of the precinct of the daughters of Leos — Praxithea and Theope and Euboule. The story is that these were put to death for the city of the Athenians, Leos having given them up at the bidding of the Delphic oracle. For it said that the city could not otherwise be saved, unless they were sacrificed.

Plato son of Ariston, seeing the people of Acragas both building lavishly and likewise dining, said that the Acragantines build as though they would live forever, but dine as though they would die tomorrow. Timaeus says that they used silver oil-flasks and strigils and had whole couches of ivory.

The Tarentines had the custom of drinking from early morning and being drunk about the time the marketplace is full. And the Cyrenaeans ran aground in such luxury that they invited Plato to be their lawgiver. But he refused, they say, because of their inveterate indolence. Eupolis too agrees, in the Maricas, that the cheapest of them had signet-rings worth ten minae. And the engravers of the rings were also admired.

Come, let me recite to you the names of the Greek wines that were sought after in old times. One they called Pramnian, and this was sacred to Demeter. And there was Chian wine from the island, and another Thasian, and Lesbian. Besides these there was one called "Sweet," fitting its name in taste, and another Cretan. And in Syracuse there was Pollian; it was named after a certain local king. They drank Coan wine too, and so called it; and Rhodian, naming it in the same way. And what of this? Was it not a proof of luxury among the Greeks? For they mixed wine with myrrh and so drank it, and greatly delighted in such a mixture; and the wine was called "Myrrhine." Philippides the comic poet mentions it.

Pythagoras of Samos wore white clothing, and a golden crown, and trousers. Empedocles of Acragas used purple and bronze sandals. And the report goes that Hippias and Gorgias went about in purple robes.

Cineas, the physician of Pyrrhus, they say, wrote secretly to the council of the Romans, and asked for money, and promised to kill Pyrrhus by poisons. But they did not accept the offer; for the Romans know how to be good through virtue, not to overcome their enemies through craft and villainy and treachery. They even revealed to Pyrrhus himself the design of Cineas.

Many loves of the ancients have been handed down to our memory, and these not least. Pausanias loved his own wife, and Apelles the concubine of Alexander, whose name was Pancaste, and who was Larissaean by birth. With her, they say, Alexander first consorted.

There were two Perianders, the one a wise man, the other a tyrant. And three Miltiadeses: the one who founded the Chersonese, and the son of Cypselus, and the son of Cimon. Four Sibyls: the Erythraean, the Samian, the Egyptian, the Sardian. Some say there were six others, so that there were ten in all, of whom were the Cumaean and the Jewish. Three Bacides: the one of Eleon, the one of Athens, the one of Arcadia.

The ancients seem not to agree with one another about the number of Niobe's children. Homer says six sons and as many daughters; Lasus says twice seven; Hesiod nineteen — unless indeed the verses are not Hesiod's, but, as many other things, are falsely ascribed to him. Alcman says ten; Mimnermus twenty; and Pindar as many.

Alexander, when he was pursuing Bessus, finding himself in want of food, took to eating the camels and other beasts of burden, both he and those with him. And when their firewood failed them, they ate the meat raw. The silphium, which was plentiful, helped them, so as to digest the flesh. And in Bactria the soldiers found the villages, learning that they were inhabited by the smoke, and clearing the snow away from the doors.

The horses of the Sacae, if one throws his master, stand still for him to mount again. If anyone wishes to marry a maiden, he fights in single combat with the girl. And if she wins, she leads him captive and has power and rule over him; but if she is beaten, she is ruled. They fight in single combat to victory, not to death. The Sacae, when they mourn, hide themselves in certain caverned and shady houses.

Perdiccas the Macedonian, who campaigned with Alexander, was so daring that he once went alone into a cave where a lioness had her lair; and the lioness he did not find, but he came out carrying her cubs, and for this Perdiccas was thought to be admired. It is believed, not only among the Greeks but also among the barbarians, that the lioness is the boldest and hardest to fight of beasts. They say, at any rate, that Semiramis the Assyrian was not proud if ever she took a lion or killed a leopard or any such thing, but only if she got the better of a lioness.

Among the other supplies that followed Xerxes, full of extravagance and ostentation, there followed also water from the Choaspes. And when in some desert place he was thirsty, his attendants not yet having come, it was proclaimed to the army that, if anyone had water from the Choaspes, he should give the king to drink. And someone was found who had a little, and that putrid. So Xerxes drank it, and considered the giver his benefactor, because he would have perished of thirst, had not that man been found.

Protogenes the painter, they say, completed his Ialysus, painting it over seven years. When Apelles saw it, at first he stood speechless, astounded at the marvellous sight, then said: "Great is the labour and great the craftsman; yet his handiwork lacks the grace which, if the man should attain it, his labour would touch heaven itself."

Cyrus, the son of Mandane, was reared, they say, by a dog; Telephus, the son of Auge and Heracles, by a hind; Pelias, the son of Poseidon and Tyro, by a horse, and so too the son of Alope. Alexander son of Priam, they say, was reared by a bear, and Aegisthus, the son of Thyestes and Pelopia, by a goat.

I hear that Darius the son of Hystaspes was a quiver-bearer of Cyrus. And the last Darius, who was defeated by Alexander, was a slave. Archelaus the king of the Macedonians was the son of a slave-woman, Simiche. Menelaus the grandfather of Philip was reckoned among the bastards. His son Amyntas was believed to be the servant and slave of Aeropus. Perseus, whom Paulus the Roman overthrew, was Argive by birth, the son of some obscure man. Eumenes is believed to have been the son of a poor father and a grave-flute-player. Antigonus son of Philip, who had but one eye and was therefore called Cyclops, was a man who worked with his own hands. Polysperchon was a brigand. Themistocles, who defeated the barbarians at sea and alone understood the voices of the gods in the oracles, was the son of a Thracian woman, and his mother was called Abrotonon. Phocion, surnamed the Good, was the son of a man who made pestles, and Demetrius of Phalerum, they say, was a home-bred slave from the house of Timotheus and Conon. As for Hyperbolus and Cleophon and Demades, although they became leaders of the Athenian people, no one could easily say who their fathers were. Callicratidas and Gylippus and Lysander in Lacedaemon were called Mothakes. This was the name for the slaves of the wealthy, whom their fathers sent out with their sons to share their training in the gymnasia. And Lycurgus, who allowed this, granted a share in the Laconian citizenship to those who kept to the rearing of children. And Epaminondas was the son of an obscure father. And Cleon the tyrant of the Sicyonians was a pirate who threw men into the sea.

The quarries in Sicily were near Epipolae, a stade in length and two plethra in breadth. And there were men who had spent so much time in them that they had even married there and begotten children. And some of those children, never having seen a city, when they came to Syracuse and saw horses yoked and oxen being driven, fled crying out; so astonished were they. The fairest of the caverns there was named after Philoxenus the poet, in which, they say, he composed, while spending time there, the fairest of his songs, the Cyclops, setting at nothing the vengeance and condemnation of Dionysius, but making music, Philoxenus, in the very midst of his misfortune.

The Phrygian tales sing these things too. That while Midas the Phrygian was still an infant sleeping, ants crept into his mouth, and most laboriously and industriously carried in grains of wheat. And that bees made a honeycomb in the mouth of Plato. And to Pindar, exposed from his father's house, bees became nurses, providing honey in place of milk.

Dionysius the son of Hermocrates, they say, was crossing a river; a horse was carrying him. And the horse slipped into the mire, and he leaped off and caught hold of the bank and went away, leaving the horse as though it were no longer his. But the horse followed and, with a whinny, turned him back. And he caught hold of its mane and was about to mount, when a swarm of bees fell upon his hand. The Galeotae, then, when Dionysius asked them about this, said that these things signified monarchy.

Dionysius drove Dion out of Sicily, but kept his wife Arete and his son by him under guard. Later he gave the wife, against her will, in marriage to Timocrates, his bodyguard, who was of all men his greatest attendant; he was a Syracusan by birth. But Dion, when he took over Syracuse, Dionysius having fled to the Locrians, then Aristomache the sister of Dion greeted him. And Arete followed, veiling herself for shame and not daring to greet him as her husband, since, forced, she had not kept faith with the bed she shared with him. When Aristomache had pleaded for her, recounting the compulsion laid on her by Dionysius, Dion took back his wife and child and sent them to his house.

The Indians, having translated the verses of Homer into their own native tongue, sing them — not they alone, but also the kings of the Persians, if one is to believe at all those who relate these things.

Phocion the son of Phocus, who had often been general, was condemned to death, and was in prison and about to drink the hemlock. When the executioner held out the cup, his kinsmen asked if he had anything to say to his son. And he said: "I charge him to bear the Athenians no grudge for this loving-cup which I now drink." Whoever does not praise and greatly admire this man seems to me to have no great thought in him.

The Lacedaemonians had no experience of music; for their care was for gymnastics and arms. But if ever they needed help from the Muses, whether falling sick or going mad or suffering some other such thing publicly, they would send for foreign men, like physicians or purifiers, according to the Pythian oracle. They sent, indeed, for Terpander and Thales and Tyrtaeus and Nymphaeus of Cydonia and Alcman. And Thucydides too admits that they were not zealous for culture, where he speaks of Brasidas. For he says that he was not even incapable of speaking, for a Lacedaemonian.

Menecrates the physician advanced to such a pitch of conceit that he called himself Zeus. He once sent to Philip the king of the Macedonians a letter of this kind: "Menecrates Zeus to Philip, greeting." And Philip wrote back: "Philip to Menecrates, health. I advise you to take yourself off to the regions about Anticyra." He hinted by this that the man was mad. Philip once gave a magnificent feast, and indeed invited this man to the banquet, and ordered a separate couch to be prepared for him, and when he had reclined, set before him a censer and burned incense to him; while the rest feasted, and the dinner was magnificent. So Menecrates at first held out, and rejoiced in the honour; but when little by little hunger came over him, and he was shown to be a man, and a foolish one at that, he rose up and went off, and said he had been insulted — Philip having very fittingly uncovered his folly.

Isocrates the orator used to say of the city of the Athenians that it was like the courtesans. For those who are captivated by their beauty wish to be with them, yet no one is so cheaply foolish as to endure to live with one of them. And so the city of the Athenians is most pleasant to visit, and in this surpasses all the cities in Greece; but to dwell in is no longer safe. He hinted by this at the informers who haunted it and the plots of the demagogues.

It has not escaped me that the beginnings of the greatest wars seem somehow to have been contemptible. For they say that the Persian war took its beginning from the quarrel of Maeandrius of Samos with the Athenians, and the Peloponnesian from the decree against the Megarians, and the one called Sacred from the exaction of fines by the Amphictyons, and the war at Chaeronea from the Athenians' contention with Philip and their refusal to come to terms.

Aristotle, wishing to soothe Alexander when he was angry and to stop him from being harsh with many, wrote thus to him: "Wrath and anger arise not against inferiors, but against superiors; and to you no one is equal." Aristotle, by giving Alexander the needful counsel, became a benefactor to many, by which means he restored his native city, which had been razed by Philip.

Those who are killed by elephants, whether in the hunts or in the battles, the Libyans bury with distinction, and sing certain hymns. The burden of the hymns is this: it says that they were brave men who fought against so great a beast; for they say that a glorious death is a burial-honour for the one buried.

Diogenes of Sinope said many things in disparagement of the ignorance and lack of culture of the Megarians, and said he would rather be a Megarian man's ram than his son. He hinted that the Megarians take thought for their flocks, but not for their children.

When Alexander son of Philip was leading his force against Thebes, the gods sent them signs and portents, foreshadowing the fortunes that all but immediately awaited them; but they, thinking that Alexander had died among the Illyrians, cast many blasphemies against him. For the lake at Onchestus gave forth a fearful and continuous sound, and was like the bellowing of a bull; and the spring called Dirce, flowing by the Ismenium and the very walls, which all the time before had flowed with clear and sweet water, suddenly and beyond expectation was filled with blood. The Thebans believed that the divine power was threatening the Macedonians. And in the temple of Demeter in the city a spider wove its web over the face of the statue. And the statue of Athena called Alalcomeneis was burned of itself, no fire being applied; and many other things.

Dioxippus the Olympic victor, the athlete, the Athenian, was riding into Athens according to the custom of athletes. So the crowds streamed together, and people, hanging from this place and that, gazed at him; and among them a woman of outstanding beauty met the spectacle. Dioxippus, seeing her, was at once overcome by her beauty, and kept gazing at the woman and turning round and changing his face to many colours. From this it became plain to many that he had not looked at the woman idly. Above all Diogenes of Sinope marked his condition, and said to those near him: "See your great athlete thrown by a slip of a girl."

Pythagoras used to say that these two finest things were given to men by the gods: to speak the truth and to do good; and he added that each of them resembled the works of the gods.

There was once a meeting between Dionysius the Second and Philip the son of Amyntas. Many other topics, as was natural, came up; and among them Philip asked Dionysius how it was that, having received so great a rule from his father, he then did not preserve it. And he answered, not out of tune: "My father left me everything else, but the fortune by which he gained and kept these things, that he left me no longer."

Dionysius sailed against Thurii, and brought against them three hundred ships filled with soldiers; but a north wind blowing against him shattered the vessels and destroyed his naval force. From this the Thurians sacrificed to the North Wind, and decreed that the wind should be a citizen, and allotted him a house and a portion of land, and every year performed rites to him. So not only did the Athenians consider him their kinsman by marriage, but the Thurians too inscribed him as their benefactor. And Pausanias says that the Megalopolitans did so too.

This too is a Persian law. If anyone is about to advise the king on some secret and disputed matter, he stands upon a golden brick. And if he seems to advise what is needful, he takes the brick and goes away with it as a reward for his counsel; but he is nonetheless flogged, because he has contradicted the king. To a free man, in my judgment, the insult is no fit counterweight to the reward.

A certain Archedice fell in love with the courtesan in Naucratis. But she was haughty and terribly tiresome and demanded heavy fees, and having taken them she would consort for a little while with the giver, then turn away. So the young man, in love with her, and unable to win her because he was not very rich, consorted with her in a dream, and at once ceased from his desire.

Alexander, the son of Philip and Olympias, having ended his life in Babylon, lay a corpse — he who said he was the son of Zeus. And while those about him quarrelled over the kingdom, he was without a share in burial, which even the very poor obtain, since the common nature of things demands that one no longer living be hidden away. But he was left uncared-for for thirty days, until Aristander of Telmessus, possessed by a god or held by some other chance, came into the midst of the Macedonians and said to them that Alexander had been the most fortunate of all the kings from the beginning of time, both living and dead; for the gods told him that the land that received the body, in which his soul had formerly dwelt, would be wholly blessed and unravaged through all time. Hearing this, they were filled with great rivalry, each desiring to carry off this precious freight to his own kingdom, that he might have a treasure and a pledge of secure and unshaken rule. But Ptolemy, if one is to believe it, stole the body away, and with haste carried it to the city of Alexander in Egypt. And the other Macedonians kept quiet, but Perdiccas set about pursuing him. It was not so much that he cared for the honour of Alexander and the rites due to the dead, as that the words spoken beforehand by Aristander inflamed and kindled him. When he overtook Ptolemy, a most fierce battle arose over the corpse, sister in a way to that over the phantom at Troy, which Homer sings, telling how Apollo cast a phantom of Aeneas into the midst of the heroes. But Ptolemy checked the onset of Perdiccas; for making a phantom like Alexander, he adorned it with royal dress and enviable burial-trappings. Then setting this up upon one of the Persian wagons, he furnished the bier upon it magnificently with silver and gold and ivory; and the real body of Alexander he sent forward plainly and as it chanced, by hidden and untrodden roads. And Perdiccas, overtaking the phantom of the corpse and the decked-out wagon, was checked in his course, thinking he had the prize; but too late he learned that he had been deceived, when he could not pursue."