Pompey

But though Lucullus was thus robbed of the glory of his achievements, and was receiving a successor who would enjoy his triumph rather than prosecute the war,[*](Cf. the Lucullus, xxxv. 7. ) this was of less concern to the aristocratic party, although they did think that the man was unjustly and thanklessly treated; they were, however, displeased at the power given to Pompey, which they regarded as establishing a tyranny, and privately exhorted and encouraged one another to attack the law, and not to surrender their freedom.

But when the time came, their hearts failed them through fear of the people, and all held their peace except Catulus; he denounced the law at great length and the tribune who proposed it, and when none of the people would listen to him, he called out in loud tones from the rostra urging the senate again and again to seek out a mountain, as their forefathers had done,[*](In the reference to secession of the plebs to Mons Sacer. See the Coriolanus, chapter vi. ) or a lofty rock, whither they might fly for refuge and preserve their freedom.

But still the law was passed by all the tribes, as we are told, and Pompey, in his absence, was proclaimed master of almost all the powers which Sulla had exercised after subduing the city in armed warfare. Pompey himself, however, on receiving his letters and learning what had been decreed, while his friends surrounded him with their congratulations, frowned, we are told, smote his thigh, and said, in the tone of one who was already oppressed and burdened with command: Alas for my endless tasks!

How much better it were to be an unknown man, if I am never to cease from military service, and cannot lay aside this load of envy and spend my time in the country with my wife! As he said this, even his intimate friends could not abide his dissimulation; they knew that his enmity towards Lucullus gave fuel to his innate ambition and love of power, and made him all the more delighted.

And certainly his actions soon unmasked him. For he sent out edicts in all directions calling the soldiers to his standard, and summoned the subject potentates and kings into his presence. Moreover, as he traversed the country, he left nothing undisturbed that Lucullus had done, but remitted punishments in many cases, and took away rewards, and did everything, in a word, with an eager desire to show the admirers of that general that he was wholly without power.

Lucullus expostulated through his friends, and it was decided that they should have a meeting; they met, therefore, in Galatia. And since both were very great and very successful generals, their lictors had their rods alike wreathed with laurel when they met; but Lucullus was advancing from green and shady regions, while Pompey chanced to have made a long march through a parched and treeless country.

Accordingly, when the lictors of Lucullus saw that Pompey’s laurels were withered and altogether faded, they took some of their own, which were fresh, and with them wreathed and decorated his rods. This was held to be a sign that Pompey was coming to rob Lucullus of the fruits of his victories and of his glory.