The people of Rome appear, from the first, to have been affected towards Pompey, much in the same manner as Prometheus, in Aeschylus, was towards Hercules, when after that hero had delivered him from his chains, he says—

For never did the Romans entertain a stronger and more rancorous hatred for any general than for Strabo, the father of Pompey. While he lived, indeed, they were afraid of his abilities as a soldier, for he had great talents for war; but upon his death, which happened by a stroke of lightning, they dragged his corpse from the bier, on the way to the funeral pile, and treated it with the greatest indignity. On the other hand, no man ever experienced from the same Romans an attachment more early begun, more disinterested in all the stages of his prosperity, or more constant and faithful in the decline of his fortune, than Pompey.

The sole cause of their aversion to the father was his insatiable avarice; but there were many causes of their affection for the son; his temperate way of living, his application to martial exercises, his eloquent and persuasive address, his strict honor and fidelity, and the easiness of access to him upon all occasions; for no man was ever less importunate in asking favors, or more gracious in conferring them. When he gave, it was without arrogance; and when he received, it was with dignity.

In his youth he had a very engaging countenance, which spoke for him before he opened his lips. Yet that grace of aspect was not attended with dignity, and amidst his youthful bloom there was a venerable and princely air. His hair naturally curled a little before; which, together with the shining moisture and quick turn of his eye, produced a stronger likeness to Alexander the Great than that which appeared in the statues of that prince.

As to the simplicity of his diet, there is a remarkable saying of his upon record. In a great illness, when his appetite was almost gone, the physician ordered him a thrush. His servants, upon inquiry, found there was not one to be had for money, for the season was passed. They were informed, however, that Lucullus had them all the year in his menageries. This being reported to Pompey, he said, "Does Pompey's life depend upon the luxury of Lucullus?" Then, without any regard to the physician, he ate something that was easy to be had.

After the death of Cinna, Carbo, a tyrant still more savage, took the reins of government. It was not long, however, before Sylla returned to Italy, to the great satisfaction of most of the Romans, who, in their present unhappy circumstances, thought the change of their master no small advantage.

Pompey, at the age of twenty-three, without a commission from any superior authority, erected himself into a general; and having placed his tribunal in the most public part of the great city of Auximum, enlisted soldiers and appointed tribunes, centurions, and other officers, according to the established custom. He did the same in all the neighboring cities; for the partisans of Carbo retired and gave place to him; and the rest were glad to range themselves under his banners. So that in a little time he raised three complete legions, and furnished himself with provisions, beasts of burden, carriages; in short, with the whole apparatus of war.

In this form he moved towards Sylla, not by hasty marches, nor as if he wanted to conceal himself; for he stopped by the way to harass the enemy; and attempted to draw off from Carbo all the parts of Italy through which he passed. At last, three generals of the opposite party, Carinna, Caelius, and Brutus, came against him all at once, not in front, or in one body, but they hemmed him in with their three armies, in hopes to demolish him entirely.

Pompey, far from being terrified, assembled all his forces, and charged the army of Brutus at the head of his cavalry. The Gaulish horse on the enemy's side sustained the first shock; but Pompey attacked the foremost of them, who was a man of prodigious strength, and brought him down with a push of his spear. The rest immediately fled and threw the infantry into such disorder that the whole was soon put to flight. This produced so great a quarrel among the three generals, that they parted and took separate routes. In consequence of which, the cities, concluding that the fears of the enemy had made them part, adopted the interest of Pompey.

Not long after, Scipio the consul advanced to engage him. But before the infantry were near enough to discharge their lances, Scipio's soldiers saluted those of Pompey, and came over to them. Scipio, therefore, was forced to fly. At last, Carbo sent a large body of cavalry against Pompey, near the river Arsis. He gave them so warm a reception, that they were soon broken, and in the pursuit drove them upon impracticable ground; so that finding it impossible to escape, they surrendered themselves with their arms and horses.

Sylla had not yet been informed of these transactions; but upon the first news of Pompey's being engaged with so many adversaries, and such respectable generals, he dreaded the consequence, and marched with all expedition to his assistance. Pompey, having intelligence of his approach, ordered his officers to see that the troops were armed and drawn up in such a manner as to make the handsomest and most gallant appearance before the commander-in-chief. For he expected great honours from him, and he obtained greater. Sylla no sooner saw Pompey advancing to meet him, with an army in excellent condition, both as to age and size of the men, and the spirits which success had given them, than he alighted; and upon being saluted of course by Pompey as Imperator, he returned his salutation with the same title: though no one imagined that he would have honoured a young man not yet admitted into the senate with a title for which he was contending with the Scipios and the Marii. The rest of his behavior was as respectable as that in the first interview. He used to rise up and uncover his head, whenever Pompey came to him; which he was rarely observed to do for any other, though he had a number of persons of distinction about him.

While Pompey was in Sicily, he received a decree of the senate, and letters from Sylla, in which he was commanded to cross over to Africa and to carry on the war with the utmost vigor against Domitius, who had assembled a much more powerful army than that which Marius carried not long before from Africa to Italy, when he made himself master of Rome, and from a fugitive became a tyrant. Pompey soon finished his preparation for this expedition; and leaving the command in Sicily to Memmius, his sister's husband, he set sail with one hundred and twenty armed vessels, and eight hundred store-ships, laden with provisions, arms, money, and machines of war. Part of his fleet landed at Utica, and part at Carthage: immediately after which seven thousand of the enemy came over to him; and he had brought with him six legions complete.

On his arrival he met with a whimsical adventure. Some of his soldiers, it seems, found a treasure, and rest of the troops concluded that the place was full of money, which the Carthaginians had hid there in some time of public distress. Pompey, therefore could make no use of them for several days, as they were searching for treasures; and he had nothing to do but walk about and amuse himself with the sight of so many thousands digging and turning up the ground. At last, they gave up the point, and bade him lead them wherever be pleased, for they were sufficiently punished for their folly.

Domitius advanced to meet him, and put his troops in order of battle. There happened to be a channel between them, craggy and difficult to pass. Moreover, in the morning it began to rain, and the wind blew violently; insomuch that Domitius, not imagining there would be any action that day, ordered his army to retire. But Pompey looked upon this as his opportunity, and he passed the defile with the utmost expedition. The enemy stood upon their defence, but it was in a disorderly and tumultuous manner, and the resistance they made was neither general nor uniform. Besides the wind and rain beat in their faces. The storm incommoded the Romans, too, for they could not well distinguish each other. Nay, Pompey himself was in danger of being killed by a soldier, who asked him the pass-word, and did not receive a speedy answer. At length, however, he routed the enemy with great slaughter; not above three thousand of them escaping out of twenty thousand. The soldiers then saluted Pompey, Imperator, but he said he would not accept that title while the enemy's camp stood untouched; therefore, if they chose to confer such an honor upon him, they must first make themselves masters of the intrenchments.

At that instant they advanced with great fury against them. Pompey fought without his helmet, for fear of such an accident as he had just escaped. The camp was taken, and Domitius slain; in consequence of which most of the cities immediately submitted, and rest were taken by assault. He took Iarbas, one of the confederates of Domitius, prisoner, and bestowed his crown on Hiempsal. Advancing with the same tide of fortune, and while his army had all the spirits inspired by success, he entered Numidia, in which he continued his march for several days, and subdued all that came in his way. Thus he revived the terror of the Roman name, which the barbarians had begun to disregard. Nay, he chose not to leave the savage beasts in the deserts without giving them a specimen of the Roman valor and success. Accordingly he spent a few days in hunting lions and elephants. The whole time he passed in Africa, they tell us, was not above forty days; in which he defeated the enemy, reduced the whole country, and brought the affairs of its kings under proper regulations, though he was only in his twenty-fourth year.

Upon his return to Utica, he received letters from Sylla, in which he was ordered to send home the rest of his army, and to wait there with one legion only for a successor. This gave him a great deal of uneasiness, which he kept to himself, but the army expressed their indignation aloud; insomuch that when he entreated them to return to Italy, they launched out into abusive terms against Sylla, and declared they would never abandon Pompey, or suffer him to trust a tyrant. At first, he endeavored to pacify them with mild representations; and when he found those had no effect, he descended from the tribunal, and retired to his tent in tears. However, they went and took him thence, and paced him again upon the tribunal, where they spent a great part of the day; they insisting that he should stay and keep the command, and he in persuading them to obey Sylla's orders, and to form no new faction. At last, seeing no end of their clamors and importunity, he assured them, with an oath, that he would kill himself, if they attempted to force him. And even this hardly brought them to desist.

The first news that Sylla heard was, that Pompey had revolted; upon which he said to his friends, "Then it is my fate to have to contend with boys in my old age." This he said, because Marius, who was very young, had brought him into so much trouble and danger. But when he received true information of the affair, and observed that all the people flocked out to receive Pompey to conduct him home with marks of great regard, he resolved to exceed them in his regards, if possible. He, therefore, hastened to meet him, and embracing him in the most affectionate manner, saluted him aloud by the surname of Magnus, or The Great; at the same time he ordered all about him to give him the same appellation. Others say, it was given him by the whole army in Africa, but did not generally obtain till it was authorized by Sylla. It is certain, he was the last to take it himself, and he did not make use of it till a long time after, when he was sent into Spain with the dignity of pro-consul against Sertorius. Then he began to write himself in his letters in all his edicts, Pompey the Great; for the world was accustomed to the name, and it was no longer invidious. In this respect we may justly admire the wisdom of the ancient Romans, who bestowed on their great men such honorable names and titles, not only for military achievements, but for the great qualities and arts which adorn civil life.

When Pompey arrived at Rome, he demanded a triumph, in which he was opposed by Sylla. The latter alleged that the laws did not allow that honor to any person who was not either consul or praetor. Hence it was that the first Scipio, when he returned victorious from greater wars and conflicts with the Carthaginians in Spain, did not demand a triumph; for he was neither consul nor praetor. He added, that if Pompey, who was yet little better than a beardless youth, and who was not of age to be admitted into the senate, should enter the city in triumph, it would bring an odium both upon the dictator's power, and those honors of his friend. These arguments Sylla insisted on, to show him that he would not allow of his triumph, and that, in case he persisted, he would chastise his obstinacy.

Pompey, not in the least intimidated, bade him consider, that more worshiped the rising than the setting sun; intimating that his power was increasing, and Sylla's upon the decline. Sylla did not hear well what he said, but perceiving by the looks and gestures of the company that they were struck with the expression, he asked what it was. When he was told it, he admired the spirit of Pompey and cried, "Let him triumph! Let him triumph!"

There is no doubt that he might then have been easily admitted a senator, if he had desired it; but his ambition was to pursue honor in a more uncommon track. It would have been nothing strange, if Pompey had been a senator before the age fixed for it; but it was a very extraordinary instance of honor to lead up a triumph before he was a senator. And it contributed not a little to gain him the affections of the multitude; the people were delighted to see him, after his triumph, class with the equestrian order.

The power of the pirates had its foundation in Cilicia. Their progress was the more dangerous, because at first it was little taken notice of. In the Mithridatic war they assumed new confidence and courage, on account of some services they had rendered the king. After this, the Romans being engaged in civil wars at the very gates of their capital, the sea was left unguarded, and the pirates by degrees attempted higher things; they not only attacked ships, but islands, and maritime towns. Many persons, distinguished for their wealth, their birth, and their capacity, embarked with them, and assisted in the depredations, as if their employment had been worthy the ambition of men of honor. They had in various places arsenals, ports, and watch-towers, all strongly fortified. Their fleets were not only extremely well manned, supplied with skillful pilots, and fitted for their business by their lightness and celerity; but there was a parade of vanity about them more mortifying than their strength, in gilded sterns, purpose canopies, and plated oars; as if they took a pride and triumphed in their villainy. Music resounded, and drunken revels were exhibited on every coast. Here generals were made prisoners; there the cities the pirates had taken were paying their ransom; all to the great disgrace of the Roman power. The number of their galleys amounted to one thousand, and the cities they were masters of to four hundred.

Temples which had stood inviolably sacred till that time, they plundered. They ruined the temple of Apollo at Claros, that of the Cabiri in Samothrace, of Ceres at Hermione, of Aesculapius at Epidaurus, those of Neptune in the Isthmus, at Taenarus and in Calauria, those of Apollo at Actium and in the isle of Leucas, those of Juno at Samos, Argos, and the promontory of Lacinium.

They likewise offered strange sacrifices; those of Olympus I mean; and they celebrated certain secret mysteries, among which those of Mithra continue to this day, being originally instituted by them. They not only insulted the Romans at sea but infested the great roads, and plundered the villas near the coast; they carried off Sextilius and Bellinus, two praetors, in their purple robes, which all their servants and lictors. They seized the daughter of Antony, a man who had been honored with a triumph, as she was going to her country house, and he was forced to pay a large ransom for her.

But the most contemptible circumstance of all was, that when they had taken a prisoner, and he cried out that he was a Roman, and told them his name, they pretended to be struck with terror, smote their thighs, and fell upon their knees to ask him pardon. The poor man, seeing them thus humble themselves before him, thought them in earnest, and said he would forgive them; for some were so officious as to put on his shoes, and others to help him on with his gown, that his quality might no more be mistaken. When they had carried on this farce, and enjoyed it for some time, they let a ladder down into the sea, and bade him go in peace; and if he refused to do it, they pushed him off the deck, and drowned him.

Their power extended over the whole Tuscan sea, so that the Romans found their trade and navigation entirely cut off. The consequence of which was, that their markets were not supplied, and they had reason to apprehend a famine. This at last led them to send Pompey to clear the sea of pirates. Gabinius, one of Pompey's intimate friends, proposed the decree, which created him not admiral, but monarch, and invested him with absolute power. The decree gave him the empire of the sea as far as the Pillars of Hercules, and of the land for 400 furlongs from the coasts. There were few parts of the Roman empire which this commission did not take in; and the most considerable of the barbarous nations, and most powerful kings, were moreover comprehended in it. Besides this he was empowered to choose out of the senators fifteen lieutenants, to act under him in such districts, and with such authority as he should appoint. He was to take from the quaestors, and other public receivers, what money he pleased, and equip a fleet of two hundred sail. The number of marine forces, of mariners and rowers, was left entirely to his discretion.

When this decree was read in the assembly, the people received it with inconceivable pleasure. The most respectable part of the senate saw, indeed, that such an absolute and unlimited power was above envy, but they considered it as a real object of fear. They therefore all, except Caesar, opposed its passing into a law. He was for it, not out of regard for Pompey, but to insinuate himself into the good graces of the people, which he had long been courting. The rest were very severe in the expressions against Pompey; and one of the consuls venturing to say, "If he imitates Romulus, he will not escape his fate," was in danger of being pulled in pieces by the populace.

It is true, when Catulus rose up to speak against the law, out of reverence for his person they listened to him with great attention. After he had freely given Pompey the honor that was his due, and said much in his praise, he advised them to spare him, and not to expose such a man to so many dangers; "for where will you find another," said he, "if you lose him?" They answered with one voice, "Yourself." Finding his arguments had no effect, he retired. Then Roscius mounted the rostrum, but not a man would give ear to him. However he made signs to them with his fingers, that they should not appoint Pompey alone, but give him a colleague. Incensed at the proposal, they set up such a shout, that a crow, which was flying over the forum, was stunned with the force of it, and fell down among the crowd. Hence we may conclude, that when birds fall on such occasions, it is not because the air is so divided with the shock as to leave a vacuum, but rather because the sound strikes them like a blow, when it ascends with force, and produces so violent an agitation.

The assembly broke up that day without coming to any resolution. When the day came that they were to give their suffrages, Pompey retired into the country; and, on receiving information that the decree was passed, he returned to the city by night, to prevent the envy which the multitudes of people coming to meet him would have excited. Next morning at break of day he made his appearance, and attended the sacrifice. After which, he summoned an assembly, and obtained a grant of almost as much more as the first decree had given him. He was empowered to fit out 500 galleys, and to raise an army of 120,000 foot, and 5,000 horse. Twenty-four senators were selected, who had all been generals or praetors, and were appointed his lieutenants; and he had two quaestors given him. As the price of provisions fell immediately, the people were greatly pleased, and it gave them occasion to say that the very name of Pompey had terminated the war.

However, in pursuance of his charge, he divided the whole Mediterranean into thirteen parts, appointing a lieutenant for each, and assigning him a squadron. By thus stationing his fleet in all quarters, he enclosed the pirates as it were in a net, took great numbers of them, and brought them into harbor. Such of their vessels as had dispersed and made off in time, or could escape the general chase, retired to Cilicia, like so many bees into a hive. Against these he proposed to go himself, with sixty of his best galleys; but first he resolved to clear the Tuscan sea, and the coasts of Africa, Sardinia, Corsica, and Sicily, of all piratical adventurers; which he effected in forty days, by his own indefatigable endeavors and those of his lieutenants. But, as the consul Piso was indulging his malignity at home, in wasting his stores and discharging his seamen, he sent his fleet round to Brundusium, and went himself by land through Tuscany to Rome.

As soon as the people were informed of his approach, they went in crowds to receive him, in the same manner as they had done a few days before, to conduct him on his way. Their extraordinary joy was owing to the speed with which he had executed his commission, so far beyond all expectation, and to the superabundant plenty which reigned in the markets. For this reason Piso was in danger of being deposed from the consulship, and Gabinius had a decree ready drawn up for that purpose; but Pompey would not suffer him to propose it. On the contrary, his speech to the people was full of candor and moderation; and when he had provided such things as he wanted, he went to Brundusium, and put to sea again. Though he was straightened for time, and in his haste sailed by many cities without calling, yet he stopped at Athens. He entered the town and sacrificed to the gods; after which he addressed the people, and then prepared to reembark immediately. As he went out of the gate he observed two inscriptions, each comprised in one line.

That within the gate was:

That without:

Some of the pirates, who yet traversed the seas, made their submission; and as he treated them in a humane manner, when he had them and their ships in his power, others entertained hope of mercy, and avoiding the other officers, surrendered themselves to Pompey, together with their wives and children. He spared them all; and it was principally by their means that he found out and took a number who were guilty of unpardonable crimes, and therefore had concealed themselves.

Still, however, there remained a great number, and indeed the most powerful part of these corsairs, who sent their families, treasures, and all useless hands, into castles and fortified towns upon Mount Taurus. Then they manned their ships, and waited for Pompey at Coracesium, in Cilicia. A battle ensued, and the pirates were defeated; after which they retired into the fort. But they had not been long besieged before they capitulated, and surrendered themselves, together with the cities and islands which they had conquered and fortified, and which by their works as well as situation were almost impregnable. Thus the war was finished, and whole force of the pirates destroyed, within three months at the farthest.

Besides the other vessels, Pompey took ninety ships with beaks of brass; and the prisoners amounted to 20,000. He did not choose to put them to death, and at the same time he thought it wrong to suffer them to disperse, because they were not only numerous, but warlike and necessitous, and therefore would probably knit again and give future trouble. He reflected, that man by nature is neither a savage nor an unsocial creature; and when he becomes so, it is by vices contrary to nature; yet even then he may be humanized by changing his place of abode, and accustoming him to a new manner of life; as beasts that are naturally wild put off their fierceness when they are kept in a domestic way. For this reason he determined to remove the pirates to a great distance from the sea, and bring them to taste the sweets of civil life, by living in cities, and by the culture of the ground. He placed some of them in the little towns of Cilicia, which were almost desolate, and which received them with pleasure, because at the same time he gave them an additional proportion of lands. He repaired the city of Soli, which had lately been dismantled and deprived of its inhabitants by Tigranes, king of Armenia, and peopled it with a number of these corsairs. The remainder, which was a considerable body, he planted in Dyma, a city of Achaia, which, though it had a large and fruitful territory, was in want of inhabitants.

Pompey, having secured the sea from Phoenicia to the Bosphorus, marched in quest of Mithridates, who had an army of 30,000 foot and 2,000 horse, but durst not stand an engagement. That prince was in possession of a strong and secure post upon a mountain, which he quitted upon Pompey's approach, because it was destitute of water. Pompey encamped in the same place; and conjecturing, from the nature of the plants and the crevices in the mountain, that springs might be found, he ordered a number of wells to be dug, and the camp was in a short time plentifully supplied with water. He was not a little surprised that this did not occur to Mithridates during the whole time of his encampment there.

After this, Pompey followed him to his new camp, and drew a line of circumvallation round him. Mithridates stood a siege of forty-five days, after which he found means to steal off with his best troops, having first killed all the sick, and such as could be of no service. Pompey overtook him near the Euphrates, and encamped over against him; but fearing he might pass the river unperceived, he drew out his troops at midnight. At that time Mithridates is said to have had a dream prefigurative of what was to befall him. He thought he was upon the Pontic Sea, sailing with a favorable wind, and in sight of the Bosphorus; so that he felicitated his friends in the ship, like a man perfectly safe, and already in harbor. But suddenly he beheld himself in the most destitute condition, swimming upon a piece of wreck. While he was in all the agitation which this dream produced, his friends awaked him, and told him that Pompey was at hand. He was now under a necessity of fighting for his camp, and his generals drew up the forces with all possible expedition.

Pompey, seeing them prepared, was loth to risk a battle in the dark. He thought it sufficient to surround them, so as to prevent their flight; and what inclined him still more to wait for daylight, was the consideration that his troops were much better than the enemy's. However, the oldest of his officers entreated him to proceed immediately to the attack, and at last prevailed. It was not indeed very dark; for the moon, though near her setting, gave light enough to distinguish objects. But it was a great disadvantage to the king's troops, that the moon was so low, and on the backs of the Romans; because she projected their shadows so far before them, that the enemy could form no just estimate of the distances, but thinking them at hand, threw their javelins before they could do the least execution.

The Romans, perceiving their mistake, advanced to the charge with all the alarm of voices. The enemy were in such a consternation, that they made not the least stand, and, in their flight, vast numbers were slain. They lost above 10,000 men, and their camp was taken. As for Mithridates, he broke through the Romans with 800 horses, in the beginning of the engagement. That corps, however, did not follow him far before they dispersed, and left him with only three of his people.

The pursuit of Mithridates was attended with great difficulties; for he concealed himself among the nations settled about the Bosphorus and the Palus Maeotis. Besides, news was brought to Pompey that the Albanians had revolted, and taken up arms again. The desire of revenge determined him to march back, and chastise them. But it was with infinite trouble and danger that he passed the Cyrnus again, the barbarians having fenced it on their side with palisades all along the banks. And when he was over, he had a large country to traverse, which afforded no water. This last difficulty he provided against by filling 10,000 bottles; and pursuing his march, he found the enemy drawn up on the banks of the river Abas, to the number of 60,000 foot and 12,000 horse, but many of them ill-armed, and provided with nothing of the defensive kind but skins of beasts.

They were commanded by the king's brother, named Cosis; who, at the beginning of the battle, singled out Pompey, and rushing in upon him, struck his javelin into the joints of his breastplate. Pompey in return run him through with his spear, and laid him dead on the spot. It is said that the Amazons came to the assistance of the barbarians from the mountains near the river Thermodon, and fought in this battle. The Romans, among the plunder of the field, did, indeed, meet with bucklers in the form of a half-moon, and such buskins as the Amazons wore; but there was not the body of a woman found among the dead. They inhabit that part of Mount Caucasus which stretches toward the Hyrcanian Sea, and are not next neighbors to the Albanians; for Gelae and Leges lie between; but they meet that people, and spend two months with them every year on the banks of the Thermodon; after which they retire to their own country.

Pompey had advanced near to Petra, and encamped, and was taking some exercise on horseback without the trenches, when messengers arrived from Pontus; and it was plain they brought good news, because the points of their spears were crowned with laurel. The soldiers seeing this, gathered about Pompey, who was inclined to finish his exercise before he opened the packet; but they were so earnest in their entreaties, that they prevailed upon him to alight and take it. He entered the camp with it in his hand; and as there was no tribunal ready, and the soldiers were too impatient to raise one of turf, which the common method, they piled a number of pack-saddles one upon the other, upon which Pompey mounted, and gave them this information: "Mithridates is dead. He killed himself upon the revolt of his son Pharnaces. And Pharnaces has seized all that belonged to his father; which he declares he has done for himself and Romans."

At this news the army, as might be expected, gave a loose rein to their joy, which they expressed in sacrifices to the gods, and in reciprocal entertainments, as if 10,000 of their enemies had been slain in Mithridates. Pompey having thus brought the campaign and the whole war to a conclusion so happy, and so far beyond his hopes, immediately quitted Arabia, traverses the provinces between that and Galatia with great rapidity, and soon arrived at Amisus. There he found many presents from Pharnaces, and several corpses of the royal family, among which was that of Mithridates. As for Pompey, he would not see the body, but to propitiate the avenging Nemesis, sent it to Sinope. However, he looked upon and admired the magnificence of his habit, and the size and beauty of his arms. The scabbard of his sword cost four hundred talents, and the diadem was of most exquisite workmanship.

Pompey having thoroughly settled the affairs of Asia, hoped to return to Italy the greatest and happiest of men.

People talked variously at Rome concerning his intentions. Many disturbed themselves at the thought that he would march with his army immediately to Rome and make himself sole and absolute master there. Crassus took his children and money, and withdrew; whether it was that he had some real apprehensions, or rather that he chose to countenance the calumny, and add force to the sting of envy; the latter seems the more probable. But Pompey had no sooner set foot in Italy, than he called an assembly of his soldiers, and, after a kind and suitable address, ordered them to disperse in their respective cities, and attend to their own affairs till his triumph, on which occasion they were to repair to him again.

Pompey's triumph was so great, that though it was divided into two days, the time was far from being sufficient for displaying what was prepared to be carried in procession; there remained still enough to adorn another triumph. At the head of the show appeared the titles of the conquered nations: Pontus, Armenia, Cappadocia, Paphlagonia, Media, Colchis, the Iberians, the Albanians, Syria, Cilicia, Mesopotamia, Phoenicia, Palestine, Judaea, Arabia, the pirates subdued both by sea and land. In these countries, it was mentioned that there were not less than 1,000 castles and 900 cities captured, 800 galleys taken from the pirates, and 39 desolate cities repeopled. On the face of the tablets it appeared besides, that whereas the revenues of the Roman empire before these conquests amounted but to 50,000,000 drachmas, by the new acquisitions they were advanced to 85,000,000; and that Pompey had brought into the public treasury in money, and in gold and silver vessels, the value of 20,000 talents; besides what he had distributed among the soldiers, of whom he that received least had 1,500 drachmas to his share. The captives who walked in the procession (not the mention the chiefs of the pirates) were the son of Tigranes, king of Armenia, together with his wife and daughter; Zosima, the wife of Tigranes himself; Aristobulus, king of Judaea; the sister of Mithridates, with her five sons, and some Scythian women. The hostages of the Albanians and Iberians, and of the king of Commagene also appeared in the train; and as many trophies were exhibited as Pompey had gained victories, either in person or by his lieutenants, the number of which was not small.

But the most honorable circumstance, and what no other Roman could boast, was that his third triumph was over the third quarter of the world, after his former triumphs had been over the other two. Others before him had been honored with three triumphs; but his first triumph was over Africa, his second over Europe, and his third over Asia; so that the three seemed to declare him conqueror of the world.

Those who desire to make the parallel between him and Alexander agree in all respects, tell us he was at this time not quite thirty-four, whereas, in fact, he was entering upon his fortieth year. (It should be the forty-sixth year. Pompey was born in the beginning of the month of August, in the year of Rome 647, and his triumph was in the same month in the year of Rome 692.) Happy it had been for him, if he had ended his days while he was blessed with Alexander's good fortune! The rest of his life, every instance of success brought its proportion of envy, and every misfortune was irretrievable.

In the meantime the wars in Gaul lifted Caesar to the first sphere of greatness. The scene of action was at a great distance from Rome, and he seemed to be wholly engaged with the Belgae, the Suevi, and the Britons; but his genius all the while was privately at work among the people of Rome, and he was undermining Pompey in his most essential interests. His war with the barbarians was not his principal object. He exercised his army, indeed, in those expeditions, as he would have done his own body, in hunting and other diversions of the field, by which he prepared them for higher conflicts, and rendered them not only formidable but invincible.

The gold and silver, and other rich spoils which he took from the enemy in great abundance, he sent to Rome; and by distributing them freely among the aediles, praetors, consuls, and their wives, he gained a great party. Consequently when he passed the Alps and wintered at Lucca, among the crowd of men and women, who hastened to pay their respects to him, there were two hundred senators, Pompey and Crassus of the number; and there were no fewer than one hundred and twenty proconsuls and praetors, whose faces were to be seen at the gates of Caesar. He made it his business in general to give them hopes of great things, and his money was at their devotion; but he entered into a treaty with Crassus and Pompey, by which it was agreed that they should apply for the consulship, and that Caesar should assist them, by sending a great number of his soldiers to vote at the election. As soon as they were chosen, they were to share the provinces, and take the command of armies, according to their pleasure, only confirming Caesar in the possession of what he had for five years more.

Crassus, upon the expiration of his consulship, repaired to his province. Pompey remaining at Rome, opened his theatre; and to make the dedication more magnificent, exhibited a variety of gymnastic games, entertainments of music, and battles with wild beasts, in which were killed 500 lions; but the battle of elephants afforded the most astonishing spectacle. (Dio says the elephants fought with armed men. There were no less than eighteen of them; and he adds, that some of them seemed to appeal, with piteous cries to the people; who, in compassion, saved their lives. If we may believe him, an oath had been taken before they left Africa, that no injury should be done them.) These things gained him the love and admiration of the public; but he incurred their displeasure again, by leaving his provinces and armies entirely to his friends and lieutenants, and roving about Italy with his wife from one villa to another. The strong attachment of Julia appeared on the occasion of an election of aediles. The people came to blows, and some were killed so near Pompey that he was covered with blood, and forced to change his clothes. There was a great crowd and tumult about his door, when his servants went home with a bloody robe; and Julia, happening to see it, fainted away and was with difficulty restored. Shortly after Julia died, and the alliance which had rather covered than restrained the ambition of the two great competitors for power was now no more. To add to the misfortune, news was brought soon after that Crassus was slain by the Parthians; and in him another great obstacle to a civil war was removed. Out of fear of him, they had both kept some measures with each other. But when fortune had carried off the champion who could take up the conqueror, we may say with the comic poet—

So little able is fortune to fill the capacities of the human mind; when such a weight of power, and extent of command, could not satisfy the ambition of two men. They had heard and read that the gods had divided the universe into three shares,

(Plutarch alludes here to a passage in the fifteenth book of the Iliad, where Neptune says to Iris—

and each was content with that which fell to his lot, and yet these men could not think the Roman empire sufficient for two of them. Such anarchy and confusion took place that numbers began to talk boldly of setting up a dictator. Cato, now fearing he should be overborne, was of opinion that it were better to give Pompey some office whose authority was limited by law, than to intrust him with absolute power. Bibulus, though Pompey's declared enemy, moved in full senate, that he should be appointed sole consul. "For by that means," said he, "the commonwealth will either recover from her disorder, or, if she must serve, will serve a man of the greatest merit." The whole house was surprised at the motion; and when Cato rose up, it was expected he would oppose it. A profound silence ensued, and he said, he should never have been the first to propose such an expedient, but as it was proposed by another, he thought it advisable to embrace it; for he thought any kind of government better than anarchy, and knew no man fitter to rule than Pompey, in a time of so much trouble. The senate came into his opinion, and a decree was issued, that Pompey should be appointed sole consul, and that if he should have need of a colleague, he might choose one himself, provided it were not before the expiration of two months.

Pompey being declared sole consul by the Interrex Sulpitius, made his compliments to Cato, acknowledged himself much indebted to his support, and desired his advice and assistance in the cabinet, as to the measures to be pursued in his administration. Cato made answer, that Pompey was not under the least obligation to him; for what he had said was not out of regard to him, but to his country. "If you apply to me," continued he, "I shall give you my advice in private; if not, I shall inform you of my sentiments in public." Such was Cato, and the same on all occasions.

Pompey then went into the city, and married Cornelia, the daughter of Metellus Scipio. She was a widow, having been married, when very young, to Publius the son of Crassus, who was lately killed in the Parthian expedition. This woman had many charms beside her beauty. She was well versed in polite literature; she played upon the lyre, and understood geometry; and she had made considerable improvements by the precepts of philosophy. What is more, she had nothing of that petulance and affectation which such studies are apt to produce in women of her age. And her father's family and reputation were unexceptionable.

Pompey's confidence made him so extremely negligent, that he laughed at those who seemed to fear the war. And when they said if Caesar should advance in a hostile manner to Rome, they did not see what forces they had to oppose him, he bade them, with an open and smiling countenance, give themselves no pain: "For, if in Italy," said he, "I do but stamp upon the ground, an army will appear."

Meantime Caesar was exerting himself greatly. He was now at no great distance from Italy, and not only sent his soldiers to vote in the elections, but by private pecuniary applications, corrupted many of the magistrates. Paulus the consul was of the number, and he had one thousand five hundred talents for changing sides. So also was Curio, one of the tribunes of the people, for whom he paid off an immense debt, and Mark Antony, who, out of friendship for Curio, had stood engaged with him for the debt.

It is said, that when one of Caesar's officers, who stood before the senate-house, waiting the issue of the debates, was informed that they would not give Caesar a longer term in his command, he laid his hand on his sword, and said, "But this shall give it." Indeed, all the preparations of his general tended that way; though Curio's demands in behalf of Caesar seemed more plausible. He proposed, that either Pompey should likewise be obliged to dismiss his forces, or Caesar suffered to keep his. "If they are both reduced to a private station," said he, "they will agree upon reasonable terms; or, if each retains his respective power, they will be satisfied. But he who weakens the one, without doing the same by the other, must double that force which he fears will subvert the government."

But now news was brought that Caesar was marching directly towards Rome with all his forces. The last circumstance, indeed, was not true. He advanced with only three hundred horse and five thousand foot; the rest of his forces were on the other side of the Alps, and he would not wait for them, choosing rather to put his adversaries in confusion by a sudden and unexpected attack, than to fight them when better prepared. When he came to the river Rubicon, which was the boundary of his province, he stood silent a long time, weighing with himself the greatness of his enterprise. At last, like one who plunges down from the top of a precipice into a gulf of immense depth, he silenced his reason, and shut his eyes against the danger; and crying out in the Greek language, "The die is cast," he marched over with his army.

Upon the first report of this at Rome, the city was in greater disorder and astonishment than had ever been known.

All Italy was in motion, with the stir of the coming storm. Those who lived out of Rome fled to it from all quarters, and those who lived in it abandoned it as fast. These saw, that in such a tempestuous and disorderly state of affairs, the well disposed part of the city wanted strength, and that the ill disposed were so refractory that they could not be managed by the magistrates. The terrors of the people could not be removed, and no one would suffer Pompey to lay a plan of action for himself. According to the passion wherewith each was actuated, whether fear, sorrow, or doubt, they endeavored to inspire him with the same; insomuch that he adopted different measures the same day. He could gain no certain intelligence of the enemy's motions, because every man brought him the report he happened to take up, and was angry if it did not meet with credit.

Pompey at last caused it to be declared by a formal edict, that the commonwealth was in danger, and no peace was to be expected. After which, he signified that he should look upon those who remained in the city as the partisans of Caesar; and then quitted it in the dusk of the evening. The consuls also fled, without offering the sacrifices which their customs required before a war. However, in this great extremity, Pompey could not but be considered as happy in the affections of his countrymen. Though many blamed the war, there was not a man who hated the general. Nay, the number of those who followed him, out of attachment to his person, was greater than that of the adventurers in the cause of liberty.

A few days after, Caesar arrived at Rome. When he was in possession of the city, he behaved with great moderation in many respects, and composed in a good measure the minds of its remaining inhabitants.

Pompey, who was the master of Brundusium, and had a sufficient number of transports, desired the consuls to embark without loss of time, and sent them before him with thirty cohorts to Dyrrhachium. But at the same time he sent his father-in-law Scipio and his son Cnaeus into Syria, to provide ships of war. He had well secured the gates of the city, and planted the lightest of his slingers and archers upon the walls; and having now ordered the Brundusians to keep within doors, he caused a number of trenches to be cut, and sharp stakes to be driven into them, and then covered with earth, in all the streets, except two which led down to the sea. In three days all his other troops were embarked without interruption; and then he suddenly gave the signal to those who guarded the walls; in consequence of which, they ran swiftly down to the harbor, and got on board. Thus having his whole complement, he set sail, and crossed the sea to Dyrrhachium.

When Caesar came and saw the walls left destitute of defence, he concluded that Pompey had taken to flight, and in his eagerness to pursue, would certainly have fallen upon the sharp stakes in the trenches, had not the Brundusians informed him of them. He then avoided the streets, and took a circuit round the town, by which he discovered that all the vessels had weighed anchor, except two that had not many soldiers aboard.

This manoeuvre of Pompey was commonly reckoned among the greatest act of generalship. Caesar, however, could not help wondering, that his adversary, who was in possession of a fortified town, and expected his forces from Spain, and at the same time was master of them, should give up Italy in such a manner.

Caesar thus made himself master of all Italy in sixty days without the least bloodshed, and he would have been glad to have gone immediately in pursuit of Pompey. But as he was in want of shipping, he gave up that design for the present, and marched to Spain, with an intent to gain Pompey's forces there.

In the meantime Pompey assembled a great army; and at sea he was altogether invincible. For he had five hundred ships of war, and the number of his lighter vessels was still greater. As for his land forces, he had seven thousand horse, the flower of Rome and Italy, all men of family, fortune, and courage. His infantry, though numerous, was a mixture of raw, undisciplined soldiers; he therefore exercised them during his stay at Beroea, where he was by no means idle, but went through the exercises of a soldier, as if he had been in the flower of his age. It inspired his troops with new courage, when they saw Pompey the Great, at the age of fifty-eight, going through the whole military discipline, in heavy armor, on foot; and then mounting his horse, drawing his sword with ease when at full speed, and as dexterously sheathing it again. As to the javelin, he threw it not only with great exactness, but with such force that few of the young men could dart it to a greater distance.

Many kings and princes repaired to his camp; and the number of Roman officers who had commanded armies was so great, that it was sufficient to make up a complete senate. Labienus, who had been honored with Caesar's friendship, and served under him in Gaul, now joined Pompey.

Caesar had now made himself master of Pompey's forces in Spain, and though it was not without a battle, he dismissed the officers, and incorporated the troops with his own. After this, he passed the Alps again, and marched through Italy to Brundusium, where he arrived at the time of the winter solstice. There he crossed the sea, and landed at Oricum; from whence he dispatched Vibullius, one of Pompey's friends, whom he had brought prisoner thither, with proposals of a conference between him and Pompey, in which they should agree to disband their armies within three days, renew their friendship, confirm it with solemn oath, and then both return to Italy. Pompey took this overture for another snare, and therefore drew down in haste to the sea, and secured all the forts and places of strength for land forces, as well as all the ports and other commodious stations for shipping; so that there was not a wind that blew, which did not bring him either provisions, or troops, or money. On the other hand, Caesar was reduced to such straits, both by sea and land, that he was under the necessity of seeking a battle. Accordingly, he attacked Pompey's intrenchments, and bade him defiance daily. In most of these attacks and skirmishes he had the advantage; but one day was in danger of losing his whole army. Pompey fought with so much valor, that he put Caesar's whole detachment to flight, after having killed two thousand men upon the spot; but was either unable or afraid to pursue his blow, and enter their camp with them. Caesar said to his friends on this occasion, "This day the victory had been the enemy's had their general known how to conquer."

Pompey's troops, elated with this success, were in great haste to come to a decisive battle. Nay, Pompey himself seemed to give in to their opinions by writing to the kings, the generals, and cities, in his interest, in the style of a conqueror. Yet all this while he dreaded the issue of a general action, believing it much better, by length of time, by famine and fatigue, to tire out men who had been ever invincible in arms, and long accustomed to conquer when they fought together. Besides, he knew the infirmities of age had made them unfit for the other operations of war, for long marches and countermarches, for digging trenches and building forts, and that, therefore, they wished for nothing so much as a battle. Pompey, with all these arguments, found it no easy matter to keep his army quiet.

After this last engagement, Caesar was in such want of provisions, that he was forced to decamp, and he took his way through Athamania into Thessaly. This added so much to the high opinion Pompey's soldiers had of themselves, that it was impossible to keep them within bounds. They cried out with one voice, "Caesar is fled." Some called upon the general to pursue; some to pass over into Italy. Others sent their friends and servants to Rome, to engage homes near the forum, for the convenience of soliciting the great offices of state. And not a few went of their own accord to Cornelia, who had been privately lodged in Lesbos, to congratulate her upon the conclusion of the war.

While he thus softly followed the enemy's steps, a complaint was raised against him, and urged with much clamor, that he was not exercising his generalship upon Caesar, but upon the Senate and the whole commonwealth, in order that he might forever keep the command in his hands, and have those for his guards and servants who had a right to govern the world. Domitius Aenobarbus, to increase the odium, always called him Agamemnon, or king of kings. Favonius piqued him no less with a jest, than others by their unseasonable severity; he went about crying, "My friends, we shall eat no figs in Tusculum this year."

These and many other like sallies of ridicule had such an effect upon Pompey, who was ambitious of being spoken well of by the world, and had too much deference for the opinions of his friends, that he gave up his own better judgment, to follow them in the career of their false hopes and prospects. A thing which would have been unpardonable in the pilot or master of a ship, much more in the commander-in-chief of so many nations and such numerous armies. He had often commended the physician who gives no indulgence to the whimsical longings of his patients, and yet he humored the sickly cravings of his army, and was afraid to give them pain, though necessary for the preservation of their life and being. For who can say that army was in a sound and healthy state, when some of the officers went about the camp canvassing for the offices of consul and praetor; and others, namely, Spinther, Domitius, and Scipio, were engaged in quarrels and cabals about Caesar's high-priesthood, as if their adversary had been only a Tigranes, a king of Armenia, or a prince of the Nabathaeans; and not that Caesar and that army who had stormed one thousand cities, subdued above three hundred nations, gained numberless battles of the Germans and Gauls, taken one million prisoners, and killed as many fairly in the field. Notwithstanding all this, they continued loud and tumultuous in their demands of a battle; and when they came to the plains of Pharsalia, forced Pompey to call a council of war. Lebienus, who had the command of the cavalry, rose up first, and took an oath, that he would not return from the battle, till he had put the enemy to flight. All the other officers swore the same.

The night following, Pompey had this dream. He thought he entered his own theatre, and was received with loud plaudits; after which, he adorned the temple of Venus the Victorious with many spoils. This vision, on one side, encouraged him, and on the other alarmed him. He was afraid that Caesar, who was a descendant of Venus, would be aggrandized at his expense. Besides, a panic (A Panic was so called, from the terror which the god Pan is said to have struck the enemies of Greece with, at the battle of Marathon.) fear ran through the camp, the noise of which awakened him. And about the morning watch, over Caesar's camp, where everything was perfectly quiet, there suddenly appeared a great light, from which a stream of fire issued in the form of a torch, and fell upon that of Pompey. Caesar himself says he saw it as he was going his rounds.

Caesar was preparing, at break of day, to march to Scotusa; his soldiers were striking their tents, and the servants and beasts of burden were already in motion, when his scouts brought intelligence that they had seen arms handed about in the enemy's camp, and perceived a noise and bustle, which indicated an approaching battle. After these, others came and assured him that the first ranks were drawn up.

Upon this Caesar said: "The long-wished day is come, on which we shall fight with men, and not with want and famine." Then he immediately ordered the red mantle to be put up before his pavilion, which, among the Romans, is the signal of a battle. The soldiers no sooner beheld it, than they left their tents as they were, and ran to arms with loud shouts, and every expression of joy. And when the officers began to put them in order of battle, each man fell into his proper rank as quietly, and with as much skill and ease, as a chorus in a tragedy.

Pompey placed himself in his right wing over against Antony, and his father-in-law, Scipio, in the centre, opposite Domitius Calvinus. His left wing was commanded by Lucius Domitius, and supported by the cavalry; for they were almost all ranged on that side, in order to break in upon Caesar, and cut off the tenth legion, which was accounted the bravest in his army, and in which he used to fight in person. Caesar, seeing the enemy's left wing so well guarded with horse, and fearing the excellence of their armor, sent for a detachment of six cohorts from the body of the reserve, and placed them behind the tenth legion, with orders not to stir before the attack, lest they should be discovered by the enemy; but when the enemy's cavalry had charged, to make up through the foremost ranks, and then not to discharge their javelins at a distance, as brave men generally do in their eagerness to come to sword in hand, but to reserve them till they came to close fighting, and to push them forward into the eyes and faces of the enemy. "For those fair young dancers," said he, "will never stand the steel aimed at their eyes, but will fly to save their handsome faces."

While Caesar was thus employed, Pompey took a view on horseback of the order of both armies; and finding that they enemy kept their ranks with the utmost exactness, and quietly waited for the signal of battle, while his own men, for want of experience, were fluctuating and unsteady, he was afraid they would be broken up on the first onset. He therefore commanded the vanguard to stand firm in their ranks, and in that close order to receive the enemy's charge. Caesar condemned this measure, as not only tending to lessen the vigor of the blows, which is always greatest in the assailants, but also to damp the fire and spirit of the men; whereas those who advance with impetuosity, and animate each other with shouts, are filled with an enthusiastic valor and superior ardor.

Caesar's army consisted of twenty-two thousand men, and Pompey's was something more than twice that number. When the signal was given on both sides, and the trumpets sounded a charge, each common man attended only to his own concern. But some of the principal Romans and Greeks, who only stood and looked on, when the dreadful moment of action approached, could not help considering to what the avarice and ambition of two men had brought the Roman Empire. The same arms on both sides, the troops marshalled in the same manner, the same standards; in short, the strength and flower of one and the same city turned upon itself! What could be a stronger proof of the blindness and infatuation of human nature, when carried away by its passions? Had they been willing to enjoy the fruits of their labors in peace and tranquillity, the greatest and best part of the world was their own. Or, if they must have indulged their thirst of victories and triumphs, the Parthians and Germans were yet to be subdued. Scythia and India yet remained; together with a very plausible color for their lust of new acquisitions, the pretence of civilizing barbarians. And what Scythian horse, what Parthian arrows, what Indian treasures, could have resisted seventy thousand Romans, led on by Pompey and Caesar, with whose names those nations had long been acquainted! Into such a variety of wild and savage countries had these two generals carried their victorious arms! Whereas now they stood threatening each other with destruction; not sparing even their own glory, though to it they sacrificed their country, but prepared, one of them, to lose the reputation of being invincible, which hitherto they had both maintained. So that the alliance which they had contracted by Pompey's marriage to Julia, was from the first only an artful expedient; and her charms were to form a self-interested compact, instead of being the pledge of a sincere friendship.

The plain of Pharsalia was now covered with men, and horses and arms; and the signal of battle being given on both sides, the first on Caesar's side who advanced to the charge was Caius Crastinus, who commanded a corps of one hundred and twenty men, and was determined to make good his promise to his general. He was the first man Caesar saw when he went out of the trenches in the morning; and upon Caesar's asking him what he thought of the battle, he stretched out his hand, and answered in a cheerful tone, "You will gain a glorious victory, and I shall have your praise this day, either alive or dead." In pursuance of this promise, he advanced the foremost, and many following to support him, he charged into the midst of the enemy. They soon took to their swords, and numbers were slain; but as Crastinus was making his way forward, and cutting down all before him, one of Pompey's men stood to receive him, and pushed his sword in at his mouth with such force, that it went through the nape of his neck. Crastinus thus killed, the fight was maintained with equal advantage on both sides.

Pompey did not immediately lead on his right wing, but often directed his eyes to the left, and lost time in waiting to see what execution his cavalry would do there. Meanwhile they had extended their squadrons to surround Caesar, and prepared to drive the few horse he had placed in front, back upon the foot. At that instant Caesar gave the signal; upon which his cavalry retreated a little; and the six cohorts, which consisted of 3000 men, and had been placed behind the tenth legion, advanced to surround Pompey's cavalry; and coming close up to them, raised the points of their javelins, as they had been taught, and aimed them at the face. Their adversaries, who were not experienced in any kind of fighting, and had not the least previous idea of this, could not parry or endure the blows upon their faces, but turned their backs, or covered their eyes with their hands, and soon fled with great dishonor. Caesar's men took no care to pursue them, but turned their force upon the enemy's infantry, particularly upon that wing, which, now stripped of its horse, lay open to the attack on all sides. The six cohorts, therefore, took them in flank, while the tenth legion charged them in front; and they, who had hoped to surround the enemy, and now, instead of that, saw themselves surrounded, made but a short resistance, and then took to a precipitate flight.

By the great dust that was raised, Pompey conjectured the fate of his cavalry; and it is hard to say what passed in his mind at that moment. He appeared like a man moonstruck and distracted; and without considering that he was Pompey the Great, or speaking to any one, he quitted the ranks, and retired step by step toward his camp—a scene which cannot be better painted than in these verses of Homer: (In the eleventh book of the Iliad, where he is speaking of the flight of Ajax before Hector.)

In this condition he entered his tent, where he sat down, and uttered not a word, till at last, upon finding that some of the enemy entered the camp with the fugitives, he said, "What! Into my camp, too!" After this short exclamation, he rose up, and dressing himself in a manner suitable to his fortune, privately withdrew. All the other legions fled; and a great slaughter was made in the camp, of the servants and others who had the care of the tents. But Asinius Pollio, who then fought on Caesar's side, assures us, that of the regular troops there were not above six thousand men killed. (Caesar says, that in all there were fifteen thousand killed, and twenty-four thousand taken prisoners.)

Upon the taking of the camp, there was a spectacle which showed, in strong colors, the vanity and folly of Pompey's troops. All the tents were crowned with myrtle; the beds were strewn with flowers; the tables covered with cups, and bowls of wine set out. In short, everything had the appearance of preparations for feasts and sacrifices, rather than for men going out to battle. To such a degree had their vain hopes corrupted them, and with such a senseless confidence they took to the field!

When Pompey had got at a little distance from the camp, he quitted his horse. He had very few people about him; and, as he saw he was not pursued, he went softly on, wrapped up in such thoughts as we may suppose a man to have, who had been used for thirty-four years to conquer and carry all before him, and now in his old age first came to know what it was to be defeated and to fly. We may easily conjecture what his thoughts must be, when in one short hour he had lost the glory and the power which had been growing up amidst so many wars and conflicts; and he who was lately guarded with such armies of horse and foot, and such great and powerful fleets, was reduced to so mean and contemptible an equipage, that his enemies, who were in search of him, could not know him.

He passed by Larissa, and came to Tempe, where, burning with thirst, he threw himself upon his face, and drank out of the river; after which, he passed through the valley, and went down to the sea-coast. There he spent the remainder of the night in a poor fisherman's cabin. Next morning, about break of day, he went on board a small river-boat, taking with him such of his company as were freemen. The slaves he dismissed, bidding them go to Caesar, and fear nothing.

As he was coasting along, he saw a whip of burden just ready to sail; the master of which was Peticius, a Roman citizen, who, though not acquainted with Pompey, knew him by sight. Therefore, without waiting for any further application, he took him up, and such of his companions as he thought proper, and then hoisted sail. The persons Pompey took with him, were the two Lentuli and Favonius; and a little after, they saw king Deiotarus beckoning to them with great earnestness from the shore, and took him up likewise. The master of the ship provided them with the best supper he could, and when it was almost ready, Pompey, for want of a servant, was going to wash himself, but Favonius, seeing it, stepped up, and both washed and anointed him. All the time he was on board, he continued to wait upon him in all the offices of a servant, even to the washing of his feet and providing his supper; insomuch, that one who saw the unaffected simplicity and sincere attachment with which Favonius performed these offices, cried out—

Pompey, in the course of his voyage, sailed by Amphipolis, and from thence steered for Mitylene, to take up Cornelia and his son. As soon as he reached the island, he sent a messenger to the town with news far different from what Cornelia expected. For, by the flattering accounts which many officious persons had given her, she understood that the dispute was decided at Dyrrhachium, and that nothing but the pursuit of Caesar remained to be attended to. The messenger, finding her possessed with such hopes, had not power to make the usual salutations; but expressing the greatness of Pompey's misfortunes by his tears rather than words, only told her she must make haste if she had a mind to see Pompey with one ship only, and that not his own.

At this news Cornelia threw herself upon the ground, where she lay a long time insensible and speechless. At last, coming to herself, she perceived there was no time to be lost in tears and lamentations, and therefore hastened through the town to the sea. Pompey ran to meet her, and received her to his arms as she was just going to fall. While she hung upon his neck, she thus addressed him: "I see, my dear husband, your present unhappy condition is the effect of my ill fortune, and not yours. Alas! how are you reduced to one poor vessel, who, before your marriage with Cornelia, traversed the sea with 500 galleys! Why did you come to see me, and not rather leave me to my evil destiny, who have loaded you, too, with such a weight of calamities? How happy had it been for me to have died before I heard that Publius, my first husband, was killed by the Parthians! How wise, had I followed him to the grave, as I once intended! What have I lived for since, but to bring misfortunes upon Pompey the Great?"

Such, we are assured, was the speech of Cornelia; and Pompey answered: "Till this moment, Cornelia, you have experienced nothing but the smiles of fortune; and it was she who deceived you, because she stayed with me longer than she commonly does with her favorites. But, fated as we are, we must bear this reverse, and make another trial of her. For it is no more improbable that we may emerge from this poor condition and rise to great things again, than it was that we should fall from great things into this poor condition."

Cornelia then sent to the city for her most valuable movables and her servants.

As soon as his wife and his friends were embarked, he set sail, and continued his course without touching at any port, except for water and provisions, till he came to Attalia, a city of Pamphylia. There he was joined by some Cilician galleys; and beside picking up a number of soldiers, he found in a little time sixty senators about him. When he was informed that his fleet was still entire, and that Cato was gone to Africa with a considerable body of men which he had collected after their flight, he lamented to his friends his great error, in suffering himself to be forced into an engagement on land, and making no use of those forces, in which he was confessedly stronger; nor even taking care to fight near his fleet, that, in case of his meeting with a check on land, he might have been supplied from the sea with another army, capable of making head against the enemy. Indeed, we find no greater mistake in Pompey's whole conduct, nor a more remarkable instance of Caesar's generalship, than in removing the scene of action to such a distance from the naval force.

However, as it was necessary to undertake something with the small means he had left, he sent to some cities, and sailed to others himself, to raise money, and to get a supply of men for his ships. But knowing the extraordinary celerity of the enemy's motions, he was afraid he might be beforehand with him, and seize all that he was preparing. He, therefore, began to think of retiring to some asylum, and proposed the matter in council. They could not think of any province in the Roman empire that would afford a safe retreat; and when they cast their eyes on the foreign kingdoms, Pompey mentioned Parthia as the most likely to receive and protect them in their present weak condition, and afterwards to send them back with a force sufficient to retrieve their affairs. Others were of opinion it was proper to apply to Africa, and to Juba in particular. But Theophanes of Lesbos observed it was madness to leave Egypt, which was distant but three days' sail. Besides, Ptolemy, who was growing towards manhood, had particular obligations to Pompey on his father's account. As so it was determined that they should seek for refuge in Egypt. Being informed that Ptolemy was with his army at Pelusium, where he was engaged in war with his sister, he proceeded thither, and sent a messenger before him to announce his arrival, and to entreat the king's protection.

Ptolemy was very young, fourteen years of age, and Photinus, his prime minister, called a council of his ablest officers; though their advice had no more weight than he was pleased to allow it. He ordered each, however, to give his opinion. But who can, without indignation, consider that the fate of Pompey the Great was to be determined by the wretch Photinus, by Theodotus, a man of Chios, who was hired to teach the prince rhetoric, and by Achillas, an Egyptian? For among the king's chamberlains and tutors these had the greatest influence over him and were the persons he most consulted. Pompey lay at anchor at some distance from the place waiting the determination of this respectable board; while he thought it beneath him to be indebted to Caesar for his safety. The council were divided in their opinions, some advising the prince to give him an honorable reception, and others to send him an order to depart. But Theodotus, to display his eloquence, insisted that both were wrong. "If you receive him," said he, "you will have Caesar for your enemy, and Pompey for your master. If you order him off, Pompey may one day revenge the affront and Caesar resent your not having put him in his hands: the best method, therefore, is to send for him and put him to death. By this means you will do Caesar a favor, and have nothing to fear from Pompey." He added with a smile, "Dead men do not bite."

This advice being approved of, the execution of it was committed to Achillas. In consequence of which he took with him Septimius, who had formerly been one of Pompey's officers, and Salvius, who had also acted under him as a centurion, with three or four assistants, and made up to Pompey's ship, where his principal friends and officers had assembled to see how the affair went on. When they perceived there was nothing magnificent in their reception, nor suitable to the hopes which Theophanes had conceived, but that a few men only in a fishing-boat came to wait upon them, such want of respect appeared a suspicious circumstance, and they advised Pompey, while he was out of the reach of missive weapons, to get out to the main sea.

Meantime, the boat approaching, Septimius spoke first, addressing Pompey in Latin by the title of Imperator. Then Achillas saluted him in Greek, and desired him to come into the boat, because the water was very shallow towards the shore, and a galley must strike upon the sands. At the same time they saw several of the king's ships getting ready, and the shore covered with troops, so that if they would have changed their minds it was then too late; besides, their distrust would have furnished the assassins with a pretence for their injustice. He therefore embraced Cornelia, who lamented his sad exit before it happened; and ordered two centurions, one of his enfranchised slaves, named Philip, and a servant called Scenes, to get into the boat before him. When Achillas had hold of his hand, and he was going to step in himself, he turned to his wife and son, and repeated that verse of Sophocles—

These were the last words he spoke to them.

As there was a considerable distance between the galley and the shore, and he observed that not a man in the boat showed him the least civility, or even spoke to him, he looked at Septimius, and said, "Methinks, I remember you to have been my fellow-soldier;" but he answered only with a nod, without testifying any regard or friendship. A profound silence again taking place, Pompey took out a paper, in which he had written a speech in Greek that he designed to make to Ptolemy, and amused himself with reading it.

When they approached the shore, Cornelia, with her friends in the galley, watched the event with great anxiety. She was a little encouraged, when she saw a number of the king's great officers coming down to the strand, in all appearance to receive her husband and do him honor. But the moment Pompey was taking hold of Philip's hand, to raise him with more ease, Septimius came behind, and ran him through the body; after which Salvius and Achillas also drew their swords. Pompey took his robe in both hands and covered his face, and without saying or doing the least thing unworthy of him, submitted to his fate, only uttering a groan, while they despatched him with many blows. He was then just fifty-nine years old, for he was killed the day after his birthday.

Cornelia, and her friends in the galley, upon seeing him murdered, gave a shriek that was heard to the shore, and weighed anchor immediately. Their flight was assisted by a brisk gale, as they got out more to sea; so that the Egyptians gave up their design of pursuing them. The murderers having cut off Pompey's head, threw the body out of the boat naked, and left it exposed to all who were desirous of such a sight. Philip stayed till their curiosity was satisfied, and then washed the body with sea-water, and wrapped it in one of his own garments, because he had nothing else at hand. The next thing was to look out for wood for the funeral pile; and casting his eyes over the shore, he spied the old remains of a fishing-boat; which, though not large, would make a sufficient pile for a poor naked body that was not quite entire.

While he was collecting the pieces of plank and putting them together, an old Roman, who had made some of his first campaigns under Pompey, came up and said to Philip, "Who are you that are preparing the funeral of Pompey the Great?" Philip answered, "I am his freedman." "But you shall not," said the old Roman, "have this honor entirely to yourself. As a work of piety offers itself, let me have a share in it; that I may not absolutely repent my having passed so many years in a foreign country; but, to compensate many misfortunes, may have the consolation of doing some of the last honors to the greatest general Rome ever produced." In this manner was the funeral of Pompey conducted.

Such was the end of Pompey the Great. As for Caesar, he arrived not long after in Egypt, which he found in great disorder. When they came to present the head, he turned from it, and the person that brought it, as a sight of horror. He received the seal, but it was with tears. The device was a lion holding a sword. The two assassins, Achillas and Photinus, he put to death; and the king, being defeated in battle, perished in the river. Theodotus, the rhetorician, escaped the vengeance of Caesar, by leaving Egypt; but he wandered about a miserable fugitive, and was hated wherever he went. At last, Marcus Brutus, who killed Caesar, found the wretch, in his province of Asia, and put him to death, after having made him suffer the most exquisite tortures. The ashes of Pompey were carried to Cornelia, who buried them in his lands near Alba. (Langhorne has well remarked that Pompey has, in all appearance, and in all consideration of his character, had less justice done him by historians than any other man of his time. His popular humanity, his military and political skills, his prudence (which he sometimes unfortunately gave up), his natural bravery and generosity, his conjugal virtues, which (though sometimes impeached) were both naturally and morally great; his cause, which was certainly, in its original interests, the cause of Rome; all these circumstances entitled him to a more distinguished and more respectable character than any of his historians have thought proper to afford him.)