Mulierum virtutes

Plutarch

Plutarch. Moralia, Vol. III. Babbitt, Frank Cole, translator. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann Ltd., 1931 (printing).

When Hannibal, the son of Barea, before[*](Probably about 220 b.c. Cf. Polybius, iii. 14 and Livy, xxi. 5.) making his campaign against the Romans, attacked a great city in Spain, Salmantica, at first the besieged were terrified, and agreed to do what was ordered by giving him six thousand pounds and three hundred hostages. But when he raised the siege, they changed their minds and did nothing of what they had agreed to do.

So he returned and ordered his soldiers, with the promise of plunder, to attack the city. At this the barbarians were panic-stricken, and carne to terms, agreeing that the free inhabitants should depart clad in one civilian garment, and should leave behind weapons, property, slaves, and their city. The women, thinking that the enemy would search each man as he came out, but would not touch the women, took swords, and, hiding them, hastened out with the men. When all had come out, Hannibal set over them a guard of Masaesylian soldiers in a place near the city, and kept them there under constraint. The rest of the soldiers rushed into the city in disorder and set to plundering. As much booty was being carried off, the Masaesylians could not bear to be merely spectators, nor did they keep their mind on their watching, but were much aggrieved and started to move away as if to have their share of the spoils. At this juncture the women, calling upon the men, handed them the swords, and some of the women of themselves attacked their guards. One of them snatched away the spear of Banon the interpreter, and smote the man himself; but he happened to have on his breast-plate. Of the others, the men struck down some, routed the rest, and forced a way out in a body, accompanied by the women. Hannibal, learning of this, sent in pursuit of them, and caught those who could not keep up. The others gained the mountains, and, for the time, escaped. Afterwards, however, they sent a petition to him, and were restored to their city, and received immunity and humane treatment.

Once upon a time a dire and strange trouble took possession of the young women in Miletus for some unknown cause. The most popular conjecture was that the air had acquired a distracting and infectious constitution, and that this operated to produce in them an alteration and derangement of mind. At any rate, a yearning for death and an insane impulse toward hanging suddenly fell upon all of them, and many managed to steal away and hang themselves. Arguments and tears of parents and comforting words of friends availed nothing, but they circumvented every device and cunning effort of their watchers in making away with themselves. The malady seemed to be of divine origin and beyond human help, until, on the advice of a man of sense, an ordinance was proposed that the women who hanged themselves should be carried naked through the market-place to their burial. And when this ordinance was passed it not only checked, but stopped completely, the young women from killing themselves. Plainly a high testimony to natural goodness and to virtue is the desire to guard against ill repute, and the fact that the women who had no deterrent sense of shame when facing the most terrible of all things in the world, death and pain, yet could not abide nor bear the thought of disgrace which would come after death.

It was a custom for the maidens of Ceos to go in a company to the public shrines and spend the day

together, and their suitors watched their sports and dances. At evening they went by turns to each one’s home and waited upon one another’s parents and brothers even to washing their feet. Very often more than one youth would be in love with one maid, but their love was so orderly and so controlled by custom, that when the girl became engaged to one, the others ceased their attentions at once. The net result of this orderly behaviour on the part of the women was that there was no memory of a case of adultery or seduction in that country for the space of seven hundred years.

When the despots in Phocis had seized Delphi, and the Thebans were waging war against them in what has been called the Sacred War, the women devotees of Dionysus, to whom they give the name of Thy ads, in Bacchic frenzy wandering at night unwittingly arrived at Amphissa. As they were tired out, and sober reason had not yet returned to them, they flung themselves down in the market-place, and were lying asleep, some here, some there. The wives of the men of Amphissa, fearing, because their city had become allied with the Phocians, and numerous soldiers of the despots were present there, that the Thyads might be treated with indignity, all ran out into the market-place, and, taking their stand round about in silence, did not go up to them while they were sleeping, but when they arose from their slumber, one devoted herself to one of the strangers and another to another, bestowing attentions on them and offering them food. Finally, the

women of Amphissa, after winning the consent of their husbands, accompanied the strangers, who were safely escorted as far as the frontier.

The two things that brought about the expulsion of Tarquinius Superbus, seventh king of Rome from Romulus, were arrogance and the virtue of Lucretia, a woman married to a distinguished man of royal lineage. For she was outraged by one of Tarquini sons who had been welcomed as a guest at her home. She told her friends and family what had been done to her, and immediately slew herself. Deposed from power, Tarquin waged various wars in his endeavours to regain his sovereignty. Finally he persuaded Porsena, ruler of the Etruscans, to march against Rome with a great force.[*](Cf. Livy, ii. 9.) At the same time with the war famine also attacked[*](Ibid. 11.) the Romans, and they, learning that Porsena was not merely a great soldier but a just and fair man as well, wished to make him judge in their case against Tarquin. But Tarquin was stubborn, saying that Porsena, if he did not remain faithful as an ally, would not be a just judge either; and so Porsena renounced him and made it his endeavour that when he went away he should be a friend of the Romans, and should get back such part of the land as they had cut off from the Etruscans, and also the prisoners of war. To confirm these

terms hostages were given to him, ten youths and ten maidens, among whom was Valeria, the daughter of Publicola the consul, whereupon Porsena at once remitted all his preparation for the war, although the agreement was not yet consummated.

The maidens went down to the river as if to bathe, a short distance away from the camp. At the instigation of one of them, Cloelia, they fastened their clothes to their heads, and took the risk of breasting a swift current and deep-whirling eddies, and by swimming close together they reached the other side by dint of a hard struggle, and with many a chance of failure. There are those who say that Cloelia procured a horse and, mounting it, swam it across slowly, acting as guide for the others, and encouraging and helping them as they were swimming. The argument with which they support this I will mention in a moment.

When the Romans saw them safe and sound, they admired the maidens’ bravery and daring, yet did not like their coming back, nor could endure to prove themselves less honourable than one man in keeping faith. Accordingly they commanded the girls to go back again, and sent men with them to see that they got there. Tarquin set an ambush for these when they had crossed the river,[*](His purpose, according to other accounts, was to prevent the return of the hostages, and so to make it appear that the Romans had not kept faith.) and came very near getting the maidens in his power. But Valeria, daughter of the consul, Publicola, with three servants succeeded in escaping to the camp of Porsena, and the others Porsena’s son, Aruns, rescued from the enemy by hastening with all speed to their assistance.

When they were brought to the camp, Porsena, with a look at them, bade them say which one of them was the instigator and leader in the plan. The others, for fear regarding Cloelia, said not a word; but Cloelia of her own accord said that it was herself, and Porsena, in admiration of her, ordered a horse to be brought, fittingly caparisoned, and presented it to her, and then sent them all back kindly and humanely. Many make of this an indication that Cloelia rode across the river on a horse. Others, however, say this is not so, but that Porsena, because he admired her strength and daring as above that of a woman, deemed her worthy of a gift fitting for a warrior. At all events, there stood an equestrian statue of a woman[*](Cf. Plutarch’s Life of Publicola, chap. xix. (107 c); Livy, ii. 13, who gives a slightly different explanation of the virgo insidens equo Pliny, Natural History, xxxiv. 13 (28-29).) close beside the Sacred Way, as it is called, and some say that this is the statue of Cloelia, others of Valeria.

Aristotimus, having succeeded in becoming despot over the people of Elis, was able to prevail through the support of Antigonus[*](Antigonus Gonatas, king of Macedonia, 283-239 b.c.) the king, but he used his power for no seemly or moderate purpose. He was himself brutal by nature, and he was led by fear to be subservient to a band of mixed barbarians who kept guard over his person and his sovereignty, and he overlooked many arrogant and cruel deeds done to the citizens by them. An example is what happened to Philodemus. This man had a beautiful daughter named Micca, and this girl one of the

officers of the despot’s mercenaries named Lucius, to show his arrogance, rather than for love of her, undertook to make his paramour, and sent a summons for her. Her parents, seeing the necessity, advised her to go, but the girl, being noble and high-minded, begged her father, embracing and beseeching him, that he would rather bear to see her dead than robbed of her maidenhood in such a shameful and lawless way. There was some delay, and Lucius himself, lustful and drunk, started forth in the midst of his drinking in a passion. Finding Micca with her head on her father’s knees, he commanded her to follow with him. But, as she was not willing, he tore off her clothes and whipped her naked body, while she bravely bore the painful blows in silence. Her father and mother, effecting nothing by their intreaties and tears, resorted to calling upon gods and men to witness their frightful and lawless treatment. But the barbarian, utterly crazed by rage and drink, killed the maiden, as she lay with her face in her father’s bosom.

The despot, however, was not moved even by things like this, but he made away with many, and forced even more into exile. At any rate, it is said that eight hundred men fled for safety to the Aetolians, asking for rescue of their wives and youngest children from the despot. A little later he himself caused proclamation to be made that the women who wished might go away to their husbands, taking along as much as they wished of their feminine possessions. When he learned that they all received the proclamation with gladness (and their number was over six hundred), he issued orders that all

should proceed in a company on a specified day, as if purposing himself to assure their safety. When the day arrived, the women gathered at the gates with their possessions which they had packed up, and some of their children they carried in their arms, and others they had in wagons, and they were waiting there for one another. Suddenly many of the despot’s men bore down upon them, calling out to them, while still a long way off, to wait. And when these came near, they ordered the women to move back, and then turned the teams about and rode them at the women, driving them through their midst mercilessly, and giving the women no chance either to follow or to stay or to come to the help of their little ones who were being killed, some of whom perished by being thrown from the wagons, others by falling under foot. The mercenaries urged them on like a flock of sheep, with shouts and whips, while the women tripped over one another, until the soldiers had cast them all into prison. Their possessions were carried off to Aristotimus.

The people of Elis being highly indignant over this affair, the holy women devoted to Dionysus, whom they call the Sixteen, taking suppliant branches and fillets from those sacred to the god, went to meet Aristotimus close by the market-place. His bodyguard made way out of respect, and the priestesses silently halted, first of all reverently holding out their suppliant branches. But when it became clear that they were petitioning in behalf of the women, and trying by intreaty to mollify his anger, he, greatly exasperated with his guards, screamed out that they had permitted the priestesses to come into his presence, and he made them drive these from the

market-place by pushing or striking one or another, and he fined each woman four hundred pounds.

After these events, Hellanicus started a concerted activity against the despot. He was a man who, owing to his advanced years and the death of two sons, was not thought of by the despot as likely to be active in any way. The exiles crossed over from Aetolia and occupied Amymone, a stronghold in Elis, well adapted to serve as a base for warlike operations, and there they received a great addition to their numbers from the citizens who managed to escape from Elis. Aristotimus, alarmed at this, went to see the imprisoned women, and, thinking that he should accomplish his purpose better by fear than by favour, he gave orders to them to write and send letters to their husbands so that the men should leave the country; and if they would not write, he threatened to put them all to death after torturing them and making away with their children first. As he stood there a long time and urged them to say whether they would carry out any part of this programme, most of the women made no answer to him, but looked at one another in silence, and showed by nods that all their minds were made up not to be frightened or perturbed at the threat. Megisto, the wife of Timoleon, who, on account of her husband and her own virtues as well, held the position of leader, did not think it meet to rise, nor would she allow the other women to do so; but, keeping her seat, she made answer to him: If you were a sensible man, you would not be talking to women about husbands, but you would send to them, as to those having authority over us, finding better words to say to them than those by which you tricked us. But if you despair

of persuading them yourself, and are attempting to use us to mislead them, do not expect to deceive us again, and I pray that they may never entertain such a base thought that, to spare their wives and little children, they should forsake the cause of their country’s freedom. In truth, it is not so bad a thing for them to lose us, whom they have not at present, as it is a good thing to rescue the citizens from your cruelty and overbearing insolence.

As Megisto spoke thus, Aristotimus could not brook her words, and ordered her young child to be brought, as if intending to kill him in her sight. As the servants sought for him mingled among the other children playing and wrestling, his mother, calling him by name, said, Come here, child, and before you can realize and think, be delivered from this bitter despotism; since for me it is more grievous to look upon your undeserved slavery than upon your death.

At this, Aristotimus drew his sword upon the mother herself, but as he was rushing at her in a rage, one of his intimate associates, Cylon[*](See the inscription in honour of Cylon found at Delphi, Dittenberger, Sylloge Inscript. Graec. 3 no. 423 (no. 920 in the second edition).) by name, who was thought to be loyal to him, but really hated him, and was in the consipracy with Hellanicus and the rest, intervened and turned him from his purpose by intreating him and saying that such action was ignoble and womanish, not that of a manly ruler who had learned to meet any situation. The result was that Aristotimus, with difficulty regaining his senses, came away.

An ominous thing, however, happened to him.

It was midday, and he was resting, and his wife was with him. While preparations for dinner were going on, an eagle was seen high in air circling over the house; then, as if with intent and design, it let fall a good-sized stone on that part of the roof under which was the room where Aristotimus happened to be lying. At the same moment there was a great crash above and shouting outside by those who saw the bird. Aristotimus was seized with consternation, and when he learned what had happened, he sent for a seer whom he constantly consulted in the marketplace, and, much perturbed, questioned him about the ominous happening. The seer encouraged him to believe that Zeus was rousing him and aiding him, but, on the other hand, told those citizens in whom he trusted that judgement was hovering over the despot’s head, and was all but ready to fall on him. Wherefore it seemed best to Hellanicus and his friends not to delay but to make their attack on the next day.

That night Hellanicus in his sleep dreamed that one of his dead sons stood beside him and said, What has happened to you, father, that you are asleep? To-morrow you must be commander of the city. So he, having gained good courage because of the vision, urged on his associates, while on the other hand, Aristotimus also having learned that Craterus was coming to his aid with a numerous force and was encamped at Olympia, became so extremely bold that without his bodyguard he went forth into the market-place in the company of Cylon. When, therefore, Hellanicus realized the opportunity, he did not give the signal which had been agreed upon between himself and those who were to make the attempt, but with clear

voice, stretching out both arms at the words, he said, Why delay, brave men ? Fair is this place on the soil of your own native land to stage your contest! So then Cylon first, drawing his sword, smote one of the men following with Aristotimus, but, as Thrasybulus and Lampis rushed at him from the opposite side, Aristotimus forestalled the conspirators by taking refuge in the temple of Zeus. There they slew him, and, exposing his corpse in the market-place, they sounded for the citizens the call to freedom. As a matter of fact, they were not much ahead of the women, for these at once ran forth with joyful acclamations and, surrounding the men, adorned them with ribbons and garlands. Then the crowd surged towards the house of the despot, but his wife, bolting the doors of her chamber, hanged herself. He had two daughters, still unwedded, most beautiful to look upon, of marriageable age. These they seized and dragged out, having resolved to do away with them, but to torture and insult them first. But Megisto, with the rest of the women, meeting them, cried out that they were committing a frightful crime if they who deemed themselves worthy to be a democratic people were, in this matter, showing recklessness and wanton violence like despots. As many had respect for the high worth of the woman who spoke so boldly amid her tears, they decided to omit the violence, and permit the daughters to die by their own hand.

When, therefore, they had returned the maidens to the house and ordered their death immediately, the elder, Myro, loosing her girdle and making a noose of it, bade farewell to her sister and urged

her to take note and do exactly what she saw her do, so that, she said, we may not end our lives in any humiliating way, unworthy of ourselves. But when the younger sister wanted the other to concede to her the privilege of dying first, and seized hold of the girdle, the elder said, I have never denied you anything else that you wanted; and so you may receive this favour also, and I will patiently endure and bear what is more grievous than death, and that is, dearest, to see you die first. Thereupon she instructed her sister how to put the noose around her neck, and when she saw that she was dead she took her down and covered her. She herself begged Megisto to take care of her and not to suffer her to be laid in any ignominious way when she should be dead. In consequence no one there was so bitter or such a hater of despots as not to shed tears and commiserate the nobility of the maidens.

Of the deeds, countless in number, done by women acting together these may suffice as examples. But cases of individual bravery I will put down as they come to me, not in any order, because I think that the record of the present subject does not at all require a chronological arrangement.

Some of the lonians who came to Miletus, owing to lively disagreements with the sons of Neileus, went away to Myus and settled there, suffering many ills at the hands of the Milesians; for these made war upon

them because of their defection. However, the war was not without truce or intercourse, but at certain festivals the women commonly went to Miletus from My us. There was among the people of Myus a prominent man named Pythes, who had a wife named Iapygia and a daughter Pieria. As there was a festival in honour of Artemis, and a sacrifice, which they call Neleis,[*](Cf. Roscher, Lexikon der griech. und röm. Mythologie, i. p. 572, line 63.) he sent his wife, and daughter, who had asked that they might participate in the festival. The most influential of Neileus’s sons, Phrygius by name, fell in love with Pieria, and tried to think what could be done on his part that would be most pleasing to her. And when she said, If only you could make it possible for me to come here often and many with me, Phrygius was quick to understand that she wanted friendship and peace for the citizens, and stopped the war. There was, consequently, in both cities repute and honour for Pieria, so that the women of Miletus pray even to this day that their husbands may love them as Phrygius loved Pieria.

A war arose between the Naxians and Milesians on account of Neaera the wife of Hypsicreon of Miletus. It was because she fell in love with Promedon of Naxos and sailed away with him. He was a friend and guest of Hypsicreon, but yielded to Neaera’s ardent advances, and then, as she was in fear of her husband, he took her away to Naxos, and placed her as a suppliant at the shrine of Hestia.

When the Naxians, as a favour to Promedon, refused to give her up, though they advanced another excuse, her position as suppliant, the war arose. Besides the many others who fought on the side of the Milesians the Erythraeans were the most zealous among the lonians; and the war dragged on and on, and brought great calamities. Then it came to an end through a woman’s bravery, as it had arisen through a woman’s badness.

Diognetus, the general of the Erythraeans, entrusted with the command of a stronghold, its natural advantages reinforced by fortification to menace the city of the Naxians, gathered much spoil from the Naxians, and captured some free women and maidens; with one of these, Polycrite, he fell in love and kept her, not as a captive, but in the status of a wedded wife. Now when a festival which the Milesians celebrate came due in the army, and all turned to drinking and social gatherings, Polycrite asked Diognetus if there were any reason why she should not send some bits of pastry to her brothers. And when he not only gave her permission but urged her to do so, she slipped into a cake a note written on a sheet of lead, and bade the bearer tell her brothers that they themselves and no others should consume what she had sent. The brothers came upon the piece of lead and read the words of Polycrite, advising them to attack the enemy that night, as they were all in a state of carelessness from drink on account of the festival. Her brothers took this message to their generals and strongly urged them to set forth with themselves. When the place had been taken and many slain, Polycrite begged for the life of Diognetus from her citizens, and saved him. When

she herself arrived at the gates, and found herself confronting the citizens who came to meet her, welcoming her with joy and garlands and giving expression to their admiration for her, she could not bear the immensity of her joy, but fell down dead beside the gate; and there she is buried, and her tomb is called the Tomb of Envy, as though by some envious fortune Polycrite was begrudged the enjoyment of her honours.

This is the story which the Naxian writers record. Aristotle,[*](Frag. 559 (ed. Rose) = Aulus Gellius, iii. 15.) however, says that Polycrite was not taken captive, but that Diognetus, in some other way, saw her and fell in love with her, and stood ready to give or to do anything; and she agreed to come to him, if she might obtain just one thing, for which, as the philosopher asserts, she required an oath of Diognetus. And when he had given the required oath, she demanded in fulfilment that Delium be given to her (the place was called by this name), otherwise she would have nothing to do with him. He, because of his love and his oath, was carried quite away, and handed over the spot to Polycrite, and she in turn to the citizens. Following this, the Naxians were again put on an equal footing, and effected a reconciliation with the Milesians on such terms as they desired.

There came from Phocaea twin brothers Phobus and Blepsus of the family of the Codridae, of whom Phobus was the first to throw himself into the sea from the Leucadian Rocks,[*](As a remedy for love, at least in later times.) as Charon of Lampsacus

has recorded.[*](Cf. Müller, Frag. Histor. Graec. i. p. 33.) Phobus, having influence and princely rank, sailed to Parium on some business of his own, and having become the friend and guest of Mandron, who was king of the Bebrycians who are called the Pityoessenians, he aided them by fighting on their side when they were being harassed by their neighbours. When Phobus took his departure Mandron expressed the utmost regard for him, and, in particular, promised to give him a part of their land and city if Phobus wished to come to Pityoessa with Phocaean colonists. So Phobus prevailed on his citizens and sent out his brother with the colonists. And what Mandron had promised was at their disposal, as they expected.[*](Cf. Strabo, xiii. (589), and Stephanus of Byzantium under Lampsacus.) But they, inasmuch as they made great gains for themselves through the spoils and booty which they took from the neighbouring barbarians, were first an object of envy, and later an object of fear also, to the Bebrycians, who, desiring to be rid of them, could not prevail on Mandron, who was a fair and just man in his treatment of the Greeks; but when he had gone away on a journey, they prepared to destroy the Phocians by treachery. But the daughter of Mandron, Lampsace, a young girl, learned of the plot beforehand, and tried first to dissuade her friends and relatives and to point out to them that they were undertaking to carry out a frightful and wicked deed in murdering men who were their benefactors and allies and now also their fellow-citizens. But when she could not prevail on them, she secretly told the Greeks what was afoot, and warned them to be on their guard. And they,

having made ready a sacrifice and banquet, invited the Pityoessenians to come to it just outside the city; then, dividing themselves into two parties, with the one they took possession of the walls, and with the other made away with the men. Having gained control of the city in this manner, they sent for Mandron, and bade him be king jointly with one or another of their own number. Lampsace died as the result of an illness, and they buried her within the city most magnificently, and called the city Lampsacus after her name.[*](Cf. Strabo, xiii. (589), and Stephanus of Byzantium under Lampsacus.) When Mandron, endeavouring to avoid any suspicion of treachery, asked to be released from dwelling with them, but asked as his right to take away with him the children and wives of the slain, they sent them forth, doing them no wrong. They rendered heroic honours to Lampsace at first; later they voted to offer sacrifice to her as to a goddess, and so they continue to do.