[48] Then truly Ptolemy and Perdiccas threw themselves at his knees and besought him not to persist in such unrestrained anger, but rather to take time for reflection; that to-morrow he would manage the [49] whole matter with more justice. But his ears were closed, deafened by wrath; and so, beside himself, he rushed into the vestibule of the royal quarters, and snatching a lance from the sentinel on guard, stood at the entrance where those who had dined with [50] him must pass out. The rest had gone, and Clitus was coming out last without a light, when the king asked who it was. Even his voice clearly indicated [51] the ferocity of the crime which he meditated. And Clitus, no longer mindful of his own anger, but remembering that of the king, replied that it was Clitus [52] and that he was leaving the banquet. As he was saying this the king ran the lance into his side, and bespattered with the blood of the dying man, cried: “Go now to Philip and Parmenion and Attalus!”
II. Nature has dealt ill with men’s minds, in that we generally weigh acts, not beforehand, but after they are done. For the king, after anger had left his mind and even his intoxication had been dispelled, clearly perceived, but too late, the enormity [2] of his crime. He saw then that he had killed a man who had indeed immoderately abused freedom of speech, but who in any case was eminent in warfare, and if he was not ashamed to admit it, the saviour of his life. A king had usurped the detestable function of an executioner, and had punished licence in language, which might have been imputed to wine, [3] by an abominable murder. The whole vestibule swam with the blood of one who but now had been his guest, the sentinels stood aloof from him, amazed and as if stupefied, and solitude gave freer opportunity [4] for repentance. Therefore, tearing the lance from the body of the prostrate man, he turned it upon himself. And he had already brought it against his breast, when the sentinels flew to him, and in spite of his resistance wrested it from his hand, lifted him up, [6] and carried him into his tent. He had thrown himself on the ground, while all the whole royal quarters rang with his groans and piteous wailing. Then he tore his face with his nails, begging those who stood around him not to suffer him to survive such a disgrace.
[6] Amid prayers like these the whole night was spent. And while he was considering whether he had been driven to commit such a great crime by the anger of the gods, it occurred to him that he had not paid the annual sacrifice to Father Liber at the appointed time. Hence it was evident that the murder committed amid wine and feasting was a manifestation [7] of the anger of that god. But the king was still more disturbed because he saw that the minds of all his friends were terror-stricken, that no one would dare hereafter to converse with him, but he must live in solitude like a savage beast which now inspires terror in other beasts and at other times is itself in fear [8] of them. Later, at dawn, he ordered the body to be taken into his tent, all bloody as it still was. When it was placed before him, he said with eyes filled with tears: “This is my requital to my nurse, whose two sons met death at Miletus for my glory, this her brother, the sole comfort of her [9] bereavement, I have slain at a banquet. Where will the poor woman turn now? Of all her kindred I alone am living, and I am the only one whom she will not be able to look upon with kindly eyes. And I, the assassin of my preservers, shall return to my native land without being able even to offer my hand to my nurse without reminding her of her bereavement!
[10] And since he did not put an end to his tears and laments, by order of his friends the body was removed.
[11] The king lay in seclusion for three days. When his attendants and body-guards knew that he was resolved upon dying, they all burst into the tent, and although for a long time he resisted their entreaties, they with difficulty prevailed upon him to take food.
[12] And in order that he might feel less shame for the murder, the Macedonians decreed that Clitus had been justly put to death, and that they would even have deprived him of funeral rites, if the king had not ordered that he be buried.
[13] Then, after having spent ten days near Maracanda, chiefly that he might recover from his shame, he sent Hephaestion with a part of the army into the region [14] of Bactriana to prepare supplies for the winter. The province which he previously had intended for Clitus he gave to Amyntas. He himself came to Xenippa; this is a place bordering on Scythia, and it is occupied by many populous villages, since the fertility of the soil not only holds the natives but also attracts [15] newcomers. It had been the refuge of the Bactrian exiles who had revolted from Alexander; but after it was learned that the king was coming, these were driven out by the natives and were gathered together [16] to the number of about 2500. They were all horsemen, accustomed to brigandage even in time of peace; at that time too their proud natures had been made more reckless, not only by the war, but also by despair of pardon. Hence they made an unlooked-for attack upon Amyntas, a general of Alexander, and for a long time had held the contest in balance; [17] finally, after having lost 700 of their number, of whom the enemy took 300 prisoners, they turned their backs to the victors, but by no means unavenged: for they killed eighty of the Macedonians, and 350 [18] besides those suffered wounds. Yet they received pardon even after a second revolt.
[19] After these had been received in surrender, the king with his whole army came into the region which they call Nautaca. The satrap was Sisimithres, who had two sons born of his own mother; for among those people it is lawful for parents to cohabit with [20] their children. He, having armed his subjects, had blocked the narrowest part of the entrance to the region with a strong fortification. Near by flowed a torrential river, which a crag in its rear protected; [21] through this the natives had made artificially a road; but whereas at either entrance a cave receives light, the inner parts are dark unless a light has been carried in. A continuous passage, known only [22] to the natives, gives access to the plains. Although the barbarians with a strong force were guarding the pass, which was protected by its natural situation, nevertheless Alexander, bringing up his battering-rams, shattered the fortifications which had been artificially added, and laid low many of the defenders with slings and arrows.
When he had scattered these and put them to flight, passing over the ruins of the fortifications, he [23] brought his army to the crag. But the river intervened, where the waters from the summit came together and flowed into the valley, and it seemed a task of great labour to fill up so vast an abyss; nevertheless he ordered trees to be felled and rocks to be brought together. And great panic had struck the barbarians, who were unfamiliar with such works, [25] when they saw a dam quickly raised. As a result the king, thinking that they could be forced by fear to surrender, sent Oxartes, of that same nation but under his sway, to persuade their leader to deliver [26] over the crag. Meanwhile, to increase the dread, at the same time towers were brought up and bolts hurled from artillery leapt about. Accordingly, the enemy made for the top of the crag, disapproving all [27] other defence. But Oxartes began to urge Sisimithres, who was fearful and distrustful of his affairs, to try the faith rather than the strength of the Macedonians, and not to delay the haste of a victorious army which was on its way to India; for anyone who opposed it would bring upon his own head the disaster aimed at others.
[28] And Sisimithres for his part was not disinclined to surrender, but his mother, who was also his wife, declaring that she would die rather than come into the power of any other, turned the mind of the barbarian to what was more honourable than safe, and he felt ashamed that freedom was more highly valued among the women than among the [29] men. Accordingly, dismissing the intermediary for peace, he had decided to stand a siege. But when he had repeatedly measured the strength of the enemy against his own, he began to regret having followed the advice of the woman, which seemed to [30] be rash rather than necessary, and quickly recalling Oxartes, he replied that he would surrender to the king, begging only this one thing, that he would not betray the advice and wish of his mother, in order that he might more easily obtain pardon for her also.
[31] Therefore, sending Oxartes ahead, he followed with his mothe
r and children and with a band of all his kindred not even waiting for the pledge of parole which [32] Oxartes had promised. The king, after sending on a horseman to order them to return and await his presence, came up, and having sacrificed victims to Minerva Victoria, restored his rule to Sisimithres, giving him hope of a still greater province if he cultivated his friendship with loyalty. He ordered Sisimithres’ two sons, whom their father had delivered to him, to follow, in order to serve as soldiers with him.
Then, having left the phalanx to subdue those [34] who had revolted, he went on with the cavalry. The road, which was steep and impeded by rocks, they endured at first as well as they could; presently, when not only were the hooves of the horses worn down, but their bodies also were wearied, many were unable to follow and the line became thinner from time to time, the excessive toil overcoming 36 their shame, as usually happens. Yet the king, from time to time changing horses, pursued the fugitives without interruption. The young nobles who were accustomed to attend him had given out except Philipp us; he was a brother of Lysimachus, and had just arrived at manhood, and, as was readily apparent, [36] a youth of a rare character. He, incredible to relate, on foot for 500 stadia accompanied the mounted king, and although Lysimachus often offered him his horse, yet he could not be induced to leave Alexander’s side, although he wore a cuirass and was carrying his arms.
[37] This same youth, when they had come to the wood in which the barbarians had hidden, made a splendid fight and protected the king as he fought hand to [38] hand with the enemy. But after the barbarians left the wood in scattered flight, the spirit which had the wood in scattered flight, the spirit which had sustained the youngman’s body in the ardour of battle left him, and suddenly a sweat broke out on all his body and he leaned against the nearest tree trunk. Then, when he was not sustained even by that support, he was taken in the king’s arm’s, and there swooned and died. In the midst of his sorrow another severe grief came to the king. Erigyius had been one of his illustrious generals; and he learned, a little before his return to the camp, that he had died. The funeral of each was performed with every splendour and honour.
III. Next he had decided to attack the Dahae; for he had learned that Spitamenes was there. But this affair, like many others, Fortune, never wearied in indulging him, finished for him in his absence.
Spitamenes burned with immoderate love for his wife whom he dragged with him as his companion into every danger, although she could hardly endure the toil of flight and constant changes of exile. She, worn out by hardships, from time to time made use of a woman’s blandishments to persuade her husband at last to cease his flight, and having experienced Alexander’s clemency, to placate one whom he could not escape. She had borne him three children, who were now grown to manhood; having put these in their father’s arms, she begged him to consent at least to pity them: and it gave greater effect to her [4] prayers that Alexander was not far off. Spitamenes, thinking that he was being betrayed, not advised, and that undoubtedly through confidence in her beauty his wife desired as soon as possible to be surrendered to Alexander, drew his scimitar and would have slain her if he had not been prevented by the hurried invention of her brothers. However he ordered her to quit his sight, adding a threat of death if she should show herself before his eyes, and to satisfy his longing he began to pass his nights with concubines. But his deep seated love was flamed through disgust with his present assosiates. Therefore, again devoted to his wife alone, he did not cease to beg her to refrain from giving such advice; and to endure whatever lot Fortune should offer them saying that to him death was a lighter thing than surrender. But she excused herself for having advised what she thought expedient, perhaps with feminine weakness, but yet in a loyal sprit, saying that for the future she would submit to her husband’s authority. Spitamenes, won by this feigned compliance, ordered a prolonged banquet to be prepared, from which he was carried to his chamber heavy with wine and half asleep. As soon as his wife saw that he was sunk in a deep and heavy slumber, she drew a sword which she had hidden under her robe, cut off his head, and, bespattered with blood, handed it to a slave who had been her accomplice in the crime. Attended by the slave, with her robe all blood stained as it was, she came into the camp of the Macedonians and ordered it to be announced to Alexander that there was something that he ought to hear from her own lips. He at once ordered the barbarian woman to be admitted. When he saw her bespattered with blood, thinking that she had come to complain or some outrage, he bade her tell him what she wished. But she desired that the slave whom she had ordered to stand in the vestibule should be bought in.
Because the slave had the head of Spitamenes hidden under his robe, he was suspected, and when some men searched him, he showed them what he was hiding. A pallor had made the features of the blood-less face [13] unrecognizable, and it could not be known who it was; therefore the king, being informed that the slave was bringing a man’s head, came out of his tent and upon inquiring what had happened, learned [14] the truth from the slave’s confession. Thereupon, as he considered the varied aspects of the case, his mind was moved by conflicting thoughts. He believed that it was a great service to him that a deserter and a traitor, who, if he had lived, would have caused delay to his important affairs, had been killed; on the other hand, he was repelled by the great crime, in that the woman had treacherously killed a husband who deserved well of her, the father of their common [15] children. Yet the atrocity of the deed prevailed over gratitude for the service, and he ordered notice to be given her to leave the camp, lest by this example o barbarian lawlessness she might affect the character and mild dispositions of the Greeks.
[16] The Dahae, learning of the murder of Spitamenes, bound Dataphernes, his partner in the revolt, and surrendered him and themselves to Alexander. He, thus freed from the greatest part of his present cares, turned his attention to avenging the wrongs of those who were being ruled greedily and tyrannically by his [17] governors. As a result, he made over to Phrataphernes Hyrcania and the Mardi with the Tapuri, and commanded him to send him under a guar Phradates, whose successor he was. For Arsames, governor of the Drangae, Stasanor was substituted, while Arsaces was sent to Media, in order that Oxy dates might be recalled from there. In place of Mazaeus, who had died, Stamenes was made governor of Babylonia.
After these matters had been arranged, he withdrew the army from winter quarters after two months’ stay, intending to go to the region which is [2] called Gazaca. The first day allowed a quiet march, the following day was, it is true, not yet stormy and gloomy, yet it was darker than the preceding one, and did not pass without threat of growing trouble, [3] on the third, lightning flickered from every quarter of the heavens, and the light which now shone through and now was hidden, began, not only to dazzle the eyes of the advancing army, but even to [4] terrify them. There were almost continual peals of thunder, and bolts of lightning striking everywhere were seen, so that the army, stunned and deafened, [5] dared neither to halt nor to advance; then suddenly a rain-storm bombarding them with hail poured upon them like a torrent. At first indeed they had received the hail successfully on the cover afforded by their shields, but finally their stiffened hands could no longer hold their slippery weapons,’ nor could they themselves determine in what direction to turn their bodies, since on every side greater violence of the storm met them than that which they were trying to [6] avoid. Hence, having broken ranks, the army went wandering all through the woods, and many, worn out by fear (not yet by toil), had thrown themselves upon the ground, although the extreme cold had [7] hardened the rain and hail into solid ice. Others had leaned against the trunks of trees; this served as a [8] support and refuge for very many. But it did not escape them that they were choosing a place to die, since when they ceased to move, the vital heat left them; but inactivity of body was welcome to them in their weariness, nor did they shrink from dying as the price of resting. As a matter of fact, the force of the disastrous storm was not only violent but also persistent, and the light,
that natural solace, in addition to the tempest, which was like night, was obscured also by the shade of the woods.
Delphi Complete Works of Quintus Curtius Rufus Page 32