Delphi Complete Works of Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics Book 79)

by Dionysius of Halicarnassus

  [16.1] Tullius, accordingly, approved of this advice and made a truce for ten days, in order to have time to deliberate and give his answer after learning the disposition of the Horatii; and thereupon he returned to the city. During the following days he consulted with the most important men, and when the greater part of them favoured accepting the proposals of Fufetius, he sent for the three brothers and said to them:

  [2] Horatii, Fufetius the Alban informed me at a conference the last time we met at the camp that by divine providence three brave champions were at hand for each city, the noblest and most suitable of any we could hope to find — the Curiatii among the Albans and you among the Romans. He added that upon learning of this he had himself first inquired whether your cousins were willing to give their lives to their country, and that, finding them very eager to undertake the combat on behalf of all their people, he could now bring forward this proposal with confidence; and he asked me also to sound you out, to learn whether you would be willing to risk your lives for your country by engaging with the Curiatii, or whether you choose to yield this honour to others. [3] I, in view of your valour and your gallantry in action, which are not concealed from public notice, assumed that you of all others would embrace this danger for the sake of winning the prize of valour; but fearing lest your kinship with the three Alban brothers might prove an obstacle to your zeal, I requested time for deliberation and made a truce for ten days. And when I came here I assembled the senate and laid the matter before them for their consideration. It was the opinion of the majority that if you of your own free will accepted the combat, which is a noble one and worthy of you and which I myself was eager to wage alone on behalf of all our people, they should praise your resolution and accept the favour from you; but if, to avoid the pollution of kindred blood — for surely it would be no admission of cowardice on your part — you felt that those who are not related to them ought to be called upon to undertake the combat, they should bring no compulsion to bear upon you. This, then, being the vote of the senate, which will neither be offended with you if you show a reluctance to undertake the task nor feel itself under any slight obligation to you if you rate your country more highly than your kinship, deliberate carefully and well.”

  [17.1] The youths upon hearing these words withdrew to one side, and after a short conference together returned to give their answer; and the eldest on behalf of them all spoke as follows: “If we were free and sole masters of our own decisions, Tullius, and you had given us the opportunity to deliberate concerning the combat with our cousins, we should without further delay have given your our thoughts upon it. But since our father is still living, without whose advice we do not think it proper to say or do the least thing, we ask you to wait a short time for our answer till we have talked with him.” [2] Tullius having commended their filial devotion and told them to do as they proposed, they went home to their father. And acquainting him with the proposals of Fufetius and with what Tullius had said to them and, last of all, with their own answer, they desired his advice. [3] And he answered and said: “But indeed this is dutiful conduct on your part, my sons, when you live for your father and do nothing without my advice. But it is time for you to show that you yourselves now have discretion in such matters at least. Assume, therefore, that my life is now over, and let me know what you yourselves would have chosen to do if you had deliberated without your father upon your own affairs.” [4] And the eldest answered him thus: “Father, we would have accepted this combat for the supremacy and would have been ready to suffer whatever should be the will of Heaven; for we had rather be dead than to live unworthy both of you and of our ancestors. As for the bond of kinship with our cousins, we shall not be the first to break it, but since it has already been broken by fate, we shall acquiesce therein. [5] For if the Curiatii esteem kinship less than honour, the Horatii also will not value the ties of blood more highly than valour.” Their father, upon learning their disposition, rejoiced exceedingly, and lifting his hands to Heaven, said he rendered thanks to the gods for having given him noble sons. Then, throwing his arms about each in turn and giving the tenderest of embraces and kisses, he said: “You have my opinion also, my brave sons. Go, then, to Tullius and give him the answer that is both dutiful and honourable.” [6] The youths went away pleased with the exhortation of their father, and going to the king, they accepted the combat; and he, after assembling the senate and sounding the praises of the youths, sent ambassadors to the Alban to inform him that the Romans accepted his proposal and would offer the Horatii to fight for the sovereignty.

  [18.1] As my subject requires not only that a full account of the way the battle was fought should be given, but also that the subsequent tragic events, which resemble the sudden reversals of fortune seen upon the stage, should be related in no perfunctory manner, I shall endeavour, as far as I am able, to give an accurate account of every incident. When the time came, then, for giving effect to the terms of the agreement, the Roman forces marched out in full strength, and afterwards the youths, when they had offered up their prayers to the gods of their fathers; they advanced accompanied by the king, while the entire throng that filed the city acclaimed them and strewed flowers upon their heads. By this time the Albans’ army also had marched out. [2] And when the armies had encamped near one another, leaving as an interval between their camps the boundary that separated the Roman territory from that of the Albans, each side occupying the site of its previous camp, they first offered sacrifice and swore over the burnt offerings that they would acquiesce in whatever fate the event of the combat between the cousins should allot to each city and that they would keep inviolate their agreement, neither they nor their posterity making use of any deceit. Then, after performing the rites which religion required, both the Romans and Albans laid aside their arms and came out in front of their camps to be spectators of the combat, leaving an interval of three or four stades for the champions. And presently appeared the Alban general conducting the Curiatii and the Roman king escorting the Horatii, all of them armed in the most splendid fashion and withal dressed like men about to die. [3] When they came near to one another they gave their swords to their armour-bearers, and running to one another, embraced, weeping and calling each other by the tenderest names, so that all the spectators were moved to tears and accused both themselves and their leaders of great heartlessness, in that, when it was possible to decide the battle by other champions, they had limited the combat on behalf of the cities to men of kindred blood and compelled the pollution of fratricide. The youths, after their embraces were over, received their swords from their armour-bearers, and the bystanders having retired, they took their places according to age and began the combat.

  [19.1] For a time quiet and silence prevailed in both armies, and then there was shouting by both sides together and alternate exhortations to the combatants; and there were vows and lamentations and continual expressions of every other emotion experienced in battle, some of them caused by what was either being enacted or witnessed by each side, and others by their apprehensions of the outcome; and the things they imagined outnumbered those which actually were happening. [2] For it was impossible to see very clearly, owing to the great distance, and the partiality of each side for their own champions interpreted everything that passed to match their desire; then, too, the frequent advances and retreats of the combatants and their many sudden countercharges rendered any accurate judgment out of the question; and this situation lasted a considerable time. [3] For the champions on both sides not only were alike in strength of body but were well matched also in nobility of spirit, and they had their entire bodies protected by the choicest armour, leaving no part exposed which if wounded would bring on swift death. So that many, both of the Romans and of the Albans, from their eager rivalry and from their partiality for their own champions, were unconsciously putting themselves in the position of the combatants and desired rather to be actors in the drama that was being enacted than spectators. [4] At last the eldest of the Albans,
closing with his adversary and giving and receiving blow after blow, happened somehow to run his sword thru the Roman’s groin. The latter was already stupefied from his other wounds, and now receiving this final low, a mortal one, he fell down dead, his limbs no longer supporting him. [5] When the spectators of the combat saw this they all cried out together, the Albans as already victorious, the Romans as vanquished; for they concluded that their two champions would be easily dispatched by the three Albans. In the meantime, the Roman who had fought by the side of the fallen champion, seeing the Alban rejoicing in his success, quickly rushed upon him, and after inflicting many wounds and receiving many himself, happened to plunge his sword into his neck and killed him. [6] After Fortune had thus in a short time made a great alteration both in the state of the combatants and in the feelings of the spectators, and the Romans had now recovered from their former dejection while the Albans had had their joy snatched away, another shift of Fortune, by giving a check to the success of the Romans, sunk their hopes and raised the confidence of their enemies. For when Alban fell, his brother who stood next to him closed with the Roman who had struck him down; and each, as it chanced, gave the other a dangerous wound at the same time, the Alban plunging his sword down through the Roman’s back into his bowels, and the Roman throwing himself under the shield of his adversary and slashing one of his thighs.

  [20.1] The one who had received the mortal wound died instantly, and the other, who had been wounded in the thigh, was scarcely able to stand, but limped and frequently leaned upon his shield. Nevertheless, he still made a show of resistance and with his surviving brother advanced against the Roman, who stood his ground; and they surrounded him, one coming up to him from in front and the other from behind. [2] The Roman, fearing that, being thus surrounded by them and obliged to fight with two adversaries attacking him from two sides, he might easily be overcome — he was still uninjured — hit upon the plan of separating his enemies and fighting each one singly. He thought he could most easily separate them by feigning flight; for then he would not be pursued by both the Albans, but only by one of them, since he saw that the other no longer had control of his limbs. With this thought in mind he fled as fast as he could; and it was his good fortune not to be disappointed in his expectation. [3] For the Alban who was not mortally wounded followed at his heels, while the other, being unable to keep going was falling altogether too far behind. Then indeed the Albans encouraged their men and the Romans reproached their champion with cowardice, the former singing songs of triumph and crowning themselves with garlands as if the contest were already won, and the others lamenting as if Fortune would never raise them up again. But the Roman, having carefully waited for his opportunity, turned quickly and, before the Alban could put himself on his guard, struck him a blow on the arm with his sword and clove his elbow in twain, [4] and when his hand fell to the ground together with his sword, he struck one more blow, a mortal one, and dispatched the Alban; then, rushing from him to the last of his adversaries, who was half dead and fainting, he slew him also. And taking the spoils from the bodies of his cousins, he hastened to the city, wishing to give his father the first news of his victory.

  [21.1] But it was ordained after all that even he, as he was but a mortal, should not be fortunate in everything, but should feel some stroke of the envious god who, having from an insignificant man made him great in a brief moment of time and raised him to wonderful and unexpected distinction, plunged him the same day into the unhappy state of being his sister’s murderer. [2] For when he arrived near the gates he saw a multitude of people of all conditions pouring out from the city and among them his sister running to meet him. At the first sight of her he was distressed that a virgin ripe for marriage should have deserted her household tasks at her mother’s side and joined a crowd of strangers. And though he indulged in many absurd reflections, he was at last inclining to those which were honourable and generous, feeling that in her yearning to be the first to embrace her surviving brother and in her desire to receive an account from him of the gallant behaviour of her dead brothers she had disregarded decorum in a moment of feminine weakness. [3] However, it was not, after all, her yearning for her brothers that had led her to venture forth in this unusual manner, but it was because she was overpowered by love for one of her cousins to whom her father had promised her in marriage, a passion which she had till then kept secret; and when she had overheard a man who came from the camp relating the details of the combat, she could no longer contain herself, but leaving the house, rushed to the city gates like a maenad, without paying any heed to her nurse who called her and ran to bring her back. [4] But when she got outside the city and saw her brother exulting and wearing the garlands of victory with which the king had crowned him, and his friends carrying the spoils of the slain, among which was an embroidered robe which she herself with the assistance of her mother had woven and sent as a present to her betrothed against their nuptial day (for it is the custom of the Latins to array themselves in embroidered robes when they go to fetch their brides), when, therefore, she saw this robe stained with blood, she rent her garment, and beating her breast with both hands, fell to lamenting and calling upon her cousin by name, so that great astonishment came upon all who were present there. [5] After she had bewailed the death of her betrothed she stared with fixed gaze at her brother and said: “Most abominable wretch, so you rejoice in having slain your cousins and deprived your most unhappy sister of wedlock! Miserable fellow! Why, you are not even touched with pity for your slain kinsmen, whom you were wont to call your brothers, but instead, as if you had performed some noble deed, you are beside yourself with joy and wear garlands in honour of such calamities. Of what wild beast, then, have you the heart?” [6] And he, answering her, said: “The heart of a citizen who loves his country and punishes those who wish her ill, whether they happen to be foreigners or his own people. And among such I count even you; for though you know that the greatest of blessings and of woes have happened to us at one and the same time — I mean the victory of your country, which I, your brother, am bringing home with me, and the death of your brothers — you neither rejoice in the public happiness of your country, wicked wretch, nor grieve at the private calamities of your own family, but, overlooking your own brothers, you lament the fate of your betrothed, and this, too, not after taking yourself off somewhere alone under cover of darkness, curse you! but before the eyes of the whole world; and you reproach me for my valour and my crowns of victory, you pretender to virginity, you hater of your brothers and disgrace to your ancestors! Since, therefore, you mourn, not for your brothers, but for your cousins, and since, though your body is with the living, your soul is with him who is dead, go to him on whom you call and cease to dishonour either your father or your brothers.”

  [7] After these words, being unable in his hatred of baseness to observe moderation, but yielding to the anger which swayed him, he ran his sword through her side; and having slain his sister, he went to his father. But so averse to baseness and so stern were the manners and thoughts of the Romans of that day and, to compare them with the actions and lives of those of our age, so cruel and harsh and so little removed from the savagery of wild beasts, that the father, upon being informed of this terrible calamity, far from resenting it, looked upon it as a glorious and becoming action. [8] In fact, he would neither permit his daughter’s body to be brought into the house nor allow her to be buried in the tomb of her ancestors or given any funeral or burial robe or other customary rites; but as she lay there where she had been cast, in the place where she was slain, the passers-by, bringing stones and earth, buried her like any corpse which had none to give it proper burial. [9] Besides these instances of the father’s severity there were still others that I shall mention. Thus, as if in gratitude for some glorious and fortunate achievements, he offered that very day to the gods of his ancestors the sacrifices he had vowed, and entertained his relations at a splendid banquet, just as upon the greatest festivals, making less account of
his private calamities than of the public advantages of his country. [10] This not only Horatius but many other prominent Romans after him are said to have done; I refer to their offering sacrifice and wearing crowns and celebrating triumphs immediately after the death of their sons when through them the commonwealth had met with good fortune. Of these I shall make mention in the proper places.

  [22.1] After the combat between the triplets, the Romans who were then in the camp buried the slain brothers in a splendid manner in the places where they had fallen, and having offered to the gods the customary sacrifices for victory, were passing their time in rejoicings. On the other side, the Albans were grieving over what had happened and blaming their leader for bad generalship; and the greatest part of them spent that night without food and without any other care for their bodies. [2] The next day the king of the Romans called them to an assembly and consoled them with many assurances that he would lay no command upon them that was either dishonourable, grievous or unbecoming to kinsmen, but that with impartial judgment he would take thought for what was best and most advantageous for both cities; and having continued Fufetius, their ruler, in the same office and made no other change in the government, he led his army home.