Cato the Younger

Plutarch

Plutarch. Plutarch's Lives, Vol. VIII. Perrin, Bernadotte, translator. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann Ltd., 1919.

On learning that Athenodorus, surnamed Cordylion, who had a large acquaintance with the Stoic philosophy, was living at Pergamum, being now in his old age and having most sturdily resisted all intimacies and friendships with governors and kings, Cato thought it would be useless to send messengers or write letters to him. Instead of this, since he had a furlough of two months allowed him by law, he sailed to Asia to visit the man, relying upon his own good qualities to make him successful in the chase.

He held converse with the philosopher, conquered his objections, drew him from his fixed purpose, and took him back to the camp with him. He was overjoyed and in high spirits, feeling that he had made a most noble capture, and one more illustrious than the nations and kingdoms which Pompey and Lucullus at that time were subduing with their marching armies.

While Cato was still in military service, his brother, who was on his way to Asia, fell sick at Aenus in Thrace, and a letter came at once to Cato advising him of this. A heavy storm was raging at sea and no ship of sufficient size was at hand, but nevertheless, taking only two friends and three servants with him in a small trading-vessel, he put to sea from Thessalonica.

He narrowly escaped drowning, and by some unaccountable good fortune came safe to land, but Caepio had just died. In bearing this affliction Cato was thought to have shown more passion than philosophy, considering not only his lamentations, his embracings of the dead, and the heaviness of his grief, but also his expenditure upon the burial, and the pains that he took to have incense and costly raiment burned with the body, and a monument of polished Thasian marble costing eight talents constructed in the market-place of Aenus.

For some people cavilled at these things as inconsistent with Cato’s usual freedom from ostentation, not observing how much tenderness and affection was mingled with the man’s inflexibility and firmness against pleasures, fears, and shameless entreaties. For the funeral rites, moreover, both cities and dynasts sent him many things for the honour of the dead, from none of whom would he accept money; he did, however, take incense and ornaments, and paid the value of them to the senders.