Brutus

Thus, then, under compulsion, he withdrew with a few followers to a lull overlooking the plain. But he himself could see nothing, or next to nothing, of the sacking of his camp, for his vision was weak; the horsemen about him, however, saw a great troop riding up which Brutus had sent.

But Cassius conjectured that they were enemies, and in pursuit of him. Nevertheless, he sent out one of those who were with him, Titinius, to reconnoitre.

The horsemen spied this man as he came towards them, and when they saw that he was a trusted friend of Cassius, his intimates, shouting for joy, leaped from their horses and embraced him warmly, while the rest rode round him with shouts and clashing of arms, thus, in their boundless joy, working the greatest mischief.

For Cassius thought that Titinius was actually taken by the enemy, and with the words My love of life has brought me to the pass of seeing a friend seized by the enemy, he withdrew into an empty tent, forcing along with him one of his freedmen, Pindarus, whom, after the disaster which befell Crassus,[*](Cassius had been quaestor for Crassus on the disastrous Parthian expedition in 53 B.C. (Crassus, xviii. 5).) he used to keep in readiness for this emergency.

From the Parthians, indeed, he had made his escape; but now, drawing his robes up over his face and laying bare his neck, he offered it to the sword. For his head was found severed from his body. Pindarus, however, no man saw after the bloody deed, and therefore some have thought that he slew his master unbidden.

A little later it became evident who the horsemen were, and Titinius, whom they had crowned with garlands, came up to report to Cassius. But when the lamentable cries of his distressed and weeping friends made known to him the grievous fate of his general and his error, he drew his sword, reproached himself bitterly for his slowness, and slew himself.