Aemilius Paulus

Plutarch

Plutarch. Plutarch's Lives, Vol. VI. Perrin, Bernadotte, translator. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann Ltd., 1918.

He said, namely, that he had never dreaded any human agency, but among agencies that were divine he had ever feared Fortune, believing her to be a most untrustworthy and variable thing; and since in this war particularly she had attended his undertakings like a prosperous gale, as it were, he had never ceased to expect some change and some reversal of the current of affairs.

For in one day, said he, I crossed the Ionian Sea from Brundisium and put in at Corcyra; thence, in five days, I came to Delphi and sacrificed to the god; and again, in other five days, I took command of the forces in Macedonia, and after the usual lustration and review of them I proceeded at once to action, and in other fifteen days brought the war to the most glorious issue.

But I distrusted Fortune because the current of my affairs ran so smoothly, and now that there was complete immunity and nothing to fear from hostile attacks, it was particularly during my voyage home that I feared the reversal of the Deity’s favour after all my good fortune, since I was bringing home so large a victorious army, such spoils, and captured kings.

Nay more, even when I had reached you safely and beheld the city full of delight and gratulation and sacrifices, I was still suspicious of Fortune, knowing that she bestows upon men no great boon that is without alloy or free from divine displeasure.

Indeed, my soul was in travail with this fear and could not dismiss it and cease anxiously forecasting the city’s future, until I was smitten with this great misfortune in my own house, and in days consecrated to rejoicing had carried two most noble sons, who alone remained to be my heirs, one after the other to their graves.

Now, therefore, I am in no peril of what most concerned me, and am confident, and I think that Fortune will remain constant to our city and do her no harm.

For that deity has sufficiently used me and my afflictions to satisfy the divine displeasure at our successes, and she makes the hero of the triumph as clear an example of human weakness as the victim of the triumph; except that Perseus, even though conquered, has his children, while Aemilius, though conqueror, has lost his.

With such noble and lofty words, we are told, did Aemilius, from an unfeigned and sincere spirit, address the people.

But for Perseus, although he pitied him for his changed lot and was very eager to help him, he could obtain no other favour than a removal from the prison which the Romans called carcer to a clean place and kindlier treatment; and there, being closely watched, according to most writers the king starved himself to death. But some tell of a very unusual and peculiar way in which he died, as follows.

The soldiers who guarded his person found some fault with him and got angry at him, and since they could not vex and injure him in any other way, they prevented him from sleeping, disturbing his repose by their assiduous attentions and keeping him awake by every possible artifice, until in this way he was worn out and died.