Pelopidas

Through the rear ranks he forced his way to the front, and filled all his men with such vigour and ardour that the enemy also thought them changed men, advancing to the attack with other bodies and spirits. Two or three of their onsets the enemy repulsed, but, seeing that these too were now attacking with vigour, and that the cavalry was coming back from its pursuit, they gave way and retreated step by step.

Then Pelopidas, looking down from the heights and seeing that the whole army of the enemy, though not yet put to flight, was already becoming full of tumult and confusion, stood and looked about him in search of Alexander. And when he saw him on the right wing, marshalling and encouraging his mercenaries, he could not subject his anger to his judgement,

but, inflamed at the sight, and surrendering himself and his conduct of the enterprise to his passion, he sprang out far in front of the rest and rushed with challenging cries upon the tyrant. He, however, did not receive nor await the onset, but fled back to his guards and hid himself among them. The foremost of the mercenaries, coming to close quarters with Pelopidas, were beaten back by him; some also were smitten and slain;

but most of them fought at longer range, thrusting their spears through his armour and covering him with wounds, until the Thessalians, in distress for his safety, ran down from the hills, when he had already fallen, and the cavalry, charging up, routed the entire phalanx of the enemy, and, following on a great distance in pursuit, filled the country with their dead bodies, slaying more than three thousand of them.

Now, that the Thebans who were present at the death of Pelopidas should be disconsolate, calling him their father and saviour and teacher of the greatest and fairest blessings, was not so much to be wondered at; but the Thessalians and allies also, after exceeding in their decrees every honour that can fitly be paid to human excellence, showed still more by their grief how grateful they were to him.

For it is said that those who were in the action neither took off their breastplates nor unbridled their horses nor bound up their wounds, when they learned of his death, but, still heated and in full armour, came first to the body, and as if it still had life and sense, heaped round it the spoils of the enemy, sheared their horses’ manes, and cut off their own hair;

and when they had gone to their tents, many neither kindled a fire nor took supper, but silence and dejection reigned through all the camp, as if they had not won a great and most brilliant victory, but had been defeated by the tyrant and made his slaves.