Plutarch: Lives of the noble Grecians and Romans
him, in gentle terms, that he had not acted wisely or well to
quarrel with him upon a punctilio of honor, at a time when the
least false step might be the ruin of all; and then, calling a
fresh assembly of the people, he there named Heraclides admiral,
and prevailed with the citizens to allow him a life-guard, as he
himself had.
Heraclides openly professed the highest respect for Dion, and
made him great acknowledgments for this favor, attending him
with all deference, as ready to receive his commands; but
underhand he kept up his dealings with the populace and the
unrulier citizens, unsettling their minds and disturbing them
with his complaints, and putting Dion into the utmost perplexity
and disquiet. For if he advised to give Dionysius leave to quit
the castle, he would be exposed to the imputation of sparing and
protecting him; if, to avoid giving offense or suspicion, he
simply continued the siege, they would say he protracted the
war, to keep his office of general the longer, and overawe the
citizens.
There was one Sosis, notorious in the city for his bad conduct
and his impudence, yet a favorite with the people, for the very
reason that they liked to see it made a part of popular
privileges to carry free speech to this excess of license. This
man, out of a design against Dion, stood up one day in an
assembly, and, having sufficiently railed at the citizens as a
set of fools, that could not see how they had made an exchange
of a dissolute and drunken for a sober and watchful despotism,
and thus having publicly declared himself Dion's enemy, took his
leave. The next day, he was seen running through the streets,
as if he fled from some that pursued him, almost naked, wounded
in the head, and bloody all over. In this condition, getting
people about him in the marketplace, he told them that he had
been assaulted by Dion's men; and, to confirm what he said,
showed them the wounds he had received in his head. And a good
many took his part, exclaiming loudly against Dion for his cruel
and tyrannical conduct, stopping the mouths of the people by
bloodshed and peril of life. Just as an assembly was gathering
in this unsettled and tumultuous state of mind, Dion came before
them, and made it appear how this Sosis was brother to one of
Dionysius's guard, and that he was set on by him to embroil the
city in tumult and confusion; Dionysius having now no way left
for his security but to make his advantage of their dissensions
and distractions. The surgeons, also, having searched the
wound, found it was rather razed, than cut with a downright
blow; for the wounds made with a sword are, from their mere
weight, most commonly deepest in the middle, but this was very
slight, and all along of an equal depth; and it was not one
continued wound, as if cut at once, but several incisions, in
all probability made at several times, as he was able to endure
the pain. There were credible persons, also, who brought a
razor, and showed it in the assembly, stating that they met
Sosis running in the street, all bloody, who told them that he
was flying from Dion's soldiers, who had just attacked and
wounded him; they ran at once to look after them, and met no
one, but spied this razor lying under a hollow stone near the
place from which they observed he came.
Sosis was now likely to come by the worst of it. But when, to
back all this, his own servants came in, and gave evidence that
he had left his house alone before break of day, with the razor
in his hand, Dion's accusers withdrew themselves, and the people
by a general vote condemned Sosis to die, being once again well
satisfied with Dion and his proceedings.
Yet they were still as jealous as before of his soldiers, and
the rather, because the war was now carried on principally by
sea; Philistus being come from Iapygia with a great fleet to
Dionysius's assistance. They supposed, therefore, that there
would be no longer need of the soldiers, who were all landsmen
and armed accordingly: these were rather, indeed, they thought,
in a condition to be protected by themselves, who were seamen,
and had their power in their shipping. Their good opinion of
themselves was also much enhanced by an advantage they got in an
engagement by sea, in which they took Philistus prisoner, and
used him in a barbarous and cruel manner. Ephorus relates that
when he saw his ship was taken he slew himself. But Timonides,
who was with Dion from the very first, and was present at all
the events as they occurred, writing to Speusippus the
philosopher, relates the story thus: that Philistus's galley
running aground, he was taken prisoner alive, and first
disarmed, then stripped of his corslet, and exposed naked, being
now an old man, to every kind of contumely; after which they cut
off his head, and gave his body to the boys of the town, bidding
them drag it through the Achradina, and then throw it into the
Quarries. Timaeus, to increase the mockery, adds further, that
the boys tied him by his lame leg, and so drew him through the
streets, while the Syracusans stood by laughing and jesting at
the sight of that very man thus tied and dragged about by the
leg, who had told Dionysius, that, so far from flying on
horseback from Syracuse, he ought to wait till he should be
dragged out by the heels. Philistus, however, has stated, that
this was said to Dionysius by another, and not by himself.
Timaeus avails himself of this advantage, which Philistus truly
enough affords against himself in his zealous and constant
adherence to the tyranny, to vent his own spleen and malice
against him. They, indeed, who were injured by him at the time
are perhaps excusable, if they carried their resentment to the
length of indignities to his dead body; but they who write
history afterwards, and were noway wronged by him in his
lifetime, and have received assistance from his writings, in
honor should not with opprobrious and scurrilous language
upbraid him for those misfortunes, which may well enough befall
even the best of men. On the other side, Ephorus is as much out
of the way in his encomiums. For, however ingenious he is in
supplying unjust acts and wicked conduct with fair and worthy
motives, and in selecting decorous and honorable terms, yet when
he does his best, he does not himself stand clear of the charge
of being the greatest lover of tyrants, and the fondest admirer
of luxury and power and rich estates and alliances of marriage
with absolute princes. He that neither praises Philistus for
his conduct, nor insults over his misfortunes, seems to me to
take the fittest course.
After Philistus's death, Dionysius sent to Dion, offering to
surrender the castle, all the arms, provisions, and
garrison-soldiers, with full pay for them for five months,
demanding in return that he might have safe conduct to go
unmolested into Italy, and there to continue, and also to enjoy
the revenues of Gyarta, a large and fruitful territory belonging
to Syracuse, reaching from the sea-side to the middle of the
country. Dion rejected these proposals, and referred him to the
Syracusans. They, hoping in a short time to take Dionysius
alive, dismissed his ambassadors summarily. But he, leaving his
eldest son, Apollocrates, to defend the castle, and putting on
board his ships the persons and the property that he set most
value upon, took the opportunity of a fair wind, and made his
escape, undiscovered by the admiral Heraclides and his fleet.
The citizens loudly exclaimed against Heraclides for this
neglect; but he got one of their public speakers, Hippo by name,
to go among them, and make proposals to the assembly for a
redivision of lands, alleging that the first beginning of
liberty was equality, and that poverty and slavery were
inseparable companions. In support of this, Heraclides spoke,
and used the faction in favor of it to overpower Dion, who
opposed it; and, in fine, he persuaded the people to ratify it
by their vote, and further to decree, that the foreign soldiers
should receive no pay, and that they would elect new commanders,
and so be rid of Dion's oppression. The people, attempting, as
it were, after their long sickness of despotism, all at once to
stand on their legs, and to do the part, for which they were yet
unfit, of freemen, stumbled in all their actions; and yet hated
Dion, who, like a good physician, endeavored to keep the city to
a strict and temperate regimen.
When they met in the assembly to choose their commanders, about
the middle of summer, unusual and terrible thunders, with other
inauspicious appearances, for fifteen days together, dispersed
the people, deterring them, on grounds of religious fear, from
creating new generals. But, at last, the popular leaders,
having found a fair and clear day, and having got their party
together, were proceeding to an election, when a draught-ox, who
was used to the crowd and noise of the streets, but for some
reason or other grew unruly to his driver, breaking from his
yoke, ran furiously into the theater where they were assembled,
and set the people flying and running in all directions before
him in the greatest disorder and confusion; and from thence went
on, leaping and rushing about, over all that part of the city
which the enemies afterwards made themselves masters of.
However, the Syracusans, not regarding all this, elected five
and twenty captains, and, among the rest, Heraclides; and
underhand tampered with Dion's men, promising, if they would
desert him, and enlist themselves in their service, to make them
citizens of Syracuse, with all the privileges of natives. But
they would not hear the proposals, but, to show their fidelity
and courage, with their swords in their hands, placing Dion for
his security in the midst of their battalion, conveyed him out
of the city, not offering violence to anyone, but upbraiding
those they met with their baseness and ingratitude. The
citizens, seeing they were but few, and did not offer any
violence, despised them; and, supposing that with their large
numbers they might with ease overpower and cut them off before
they got out of the city, fell upon them in the rear.
Here Dion was in a great strait, being necessitated either to
fight against his own countrymen, or tamely suffer himself and
his faithful soldiers to be cut in pieces. He used many
entreaties to the Syracusans, stretching out his hands towards
the castle, that was full of their enemies, and showing them the
soldiers, who in great numbers appeared on the walls and watched
what was doing. But when no persuasions could divert the
impulse of the multitude, and the whole mass, like the sea in a
storm, seemed to be driven before the breath of the demagogues,
he commanded his men, not to charge them, but to advance with
shouts and clashing of their arms; which being done, not a man
of them stood his ground; all fled at once through the streets,
though none pursued them. For Dion immediately commanded his
men to face about, and led them towards the city of the
Leontines.
The very women laughed at the new captains for this retreat; so
to redeem their credit, they bid the citizens arm themselves
again, and followed after Dion, and came up with him as he was
passing a river. Some of the light-horse rode up and began to
skirmish. But when they saw Dion no more tame and calm, and no
signs in his face of any fatherly tenderness towards his
countrymen, but with an angry countenance, as resolved not to
suffer their indignities any longer, bidding his men face round
and form in their ranks for the onset, they presently turned
their backs more basely than before, and fled to the city, with
the loss of some few of their men.
The Leontines received Dion very honorably, gave money to his