Cato the Younger

After his conference with Lucius on this matter, he presented his son and his companions to him as he was going away; and after escorting him on his way and bidding him farewell, he came back home, called together his son and his friends, and discoursed with them on many subjects. In particular, he forbade the young man to engage in political matters; for to do so worthily of a Cato was no longer possible, as things were going, and to do so otherwise would be disgraceful. And presently, towards evening, he betook himself to the bath.

But while he was bathing he bethought himself of Statyllius, and called out in loud tones, saying: Apollonides, didst thou send off Statyllius? And didst thou bring him down from that lofty purpose of his? And has the man set sail without even bidding me good-bye? By no means, said Apollonides although we reasoned much with him; but he is lofty and unbending, and says he will remain and do whatever thou doest. At this, we are told, Cato smiled, and said: Well, we shall see about that presently.

After his bath, he took supper with a large company, sitting at table, as was his wont after Pharsalus; indeed, he lay down only when he slept;[*](Cf. chapter lvi. 4.) and there were at supper with him all his companions, and the magistrates of Utica. After supper, there was much literary and genial discourse over the wine, and one philosophical tenet after another made the rounds, until there came up the enquiry into what were called the paradoxes of the Stoics, namely, that the good man alone is free, and that the bad are all slaves.

Here, as was to be expected, the Peripatetic made objections, whereupon Cato broke in with vehemence, and in loud and harsh tones maintained his argument at greatest length and with astonishing earnestness, so that everyone perceived that he had made up his mind to put an end to his life and free himself from his present troubles. Therefore, as all were dejected and silent after his discourse, Cato tried to revive their spirits and remove their suspicions by once more putting questions and expressing anxiety about what was going on, implying that he feared for those who were going away by sea, and feared, too, for those whose path lay through a barbarous and waterless desert.

Thus the supper came to an end, and after walking about with his friends as he usually did after supper, he gave the officers of the watch the proper orders, and then retired to his chamber, but not until he had embraced his son and each of his friends with more than his wonted kindness, and thus awakened anew their suspicions of what was to come.

After entering his chamber and lying down, he took up Plato’s dialogue On the Soul,[*](The Phaedo.) and when he had gone through the greater part of the treatise, he looked up above his head, and not seeing his sword hanging there (for his son had taken it away while Cato was still at supper), called a servant and asked him who had taken the weapon. The servant made no answer, and Cato returned to his book; and a little while after, as if in no haste or hurry, but merely looking for his sword, he bade the servant fetch it.