Nicias

Many were the fearful scenes in the camp, but the most pitiful sight of all was Nicias himself, undone by his sickness, and reduced, as he little deserved, to a scanty diet, and to the smallest supply of those personal comforts whereof he stood so much in need because of his disease. And yet, for all his weakness, he persisted in doing what many of the strong could barely endure, and all saw plainly that it was not for his own sake or for any mere love of life that he was faithful to his tasks, but for their sakes he would not give up hope.

The rest, for very fear and distress, had recourse to lamentations and tears; but whenever he was driven to this pass, it was plainly because he was contrasting the shameful dishonor to which his expedition had now come with the great and glorious successes which he had hoped to achieve.

Besides, it was not merely the sight of him now, but also the memory of the arguments and exhortations with which he had once tried to prevent the sailing of the expedition, that led men to think him all the more unworthy to suffer such hardships now; and they had no courage to hope for aid from the gods when they reflected that a man so devout as he, and one who had performed so many great and splendid religious services, now met with no seemlier fortune than the basest and most obscure man in his army.