A search for Josephus was then instituted by the Romans, instigated both by their own resentment and by the earnest wish of their general, since his capture would constitute a turning-point in the war. So the bodies of the slain and the men in hiding[[275]] were closely examined. Now Josephus, when the city was on the point of being taken, had, with the aid of some divine providence, stolen out of the enemy’s midst and leapt into a deep pit, giving access on one side to a broad cavern, invisible to those above. There he found forty persons of distinction in hiding, with a supply of provisions sufficient to last for a considerable time. During the day he lay hid, the enemy occupying every quarter of the city, but at night he would come up and look for some loophole for escape and reconnoitre the sentries; but, finding every spot guarded on his account and no means of eluding detection, he descended again into the cave. So for two days he continued in hiding. On the third, his secret was betrayed by a woman of the party, who was captured, whereupon Vespasian at once in eager haste despatched two tribunes,[[276]] Paulinus and Gallicanus, with orders to offer Josephus security[[277]] and to exhort him to come up.
Josephus Parleys with the Roman Officers
So they came and urged him, giving pledges that his life would not be endangered. Their persuasion, however, was unavailing. His suspicions were based not on the natural clemency of those who invited him, but on the penalties which so active an opponent was likely to incur; and the presentiment that he was being summoned to punishment persisted, until Vespasian sent a third tribune, Nicanor, known to, and formerly an intimate associate of, Josephus. He, on his arrival, dwelt on the innate generosity of the Romans to those whom they had once subdued,[[278]] assuring him that his valour made him an object rather of admiration, than of hatred, to the commanding officers, and that the general was anxious to bring him up from his retreat, not for punishment—that he could inflict though he refused to come forth—but from a desire to save a brave man. He added that Vespasian, had he intended to entrap him, would never have sent a friend as his emissary, using the noblest of relationships as a cloak for the basest—friendship as a mask for perfidy; nor would he himself have consented to come in order to deceive a friend.
While Josephus was still hesitating even at Nicanor’s persuasions, the soldiers in their rage made a rush to set the cave on fire, but were restrained by the officer,[[279]] who was anxious to take the Jewish leader alive. And as Nicanor urgently pressed his proposals, Josephus heard the threats of the hostile crowd; and there came back into his mind those nightly dreams, in which God had foretold to him the impending fate of the Jews and the destinies of the Roman sovereigns. As an interpreter of dreams he had the capacity of extracting a coherent meaning from the ambiguous utterances of the Deity;[[280]] a priest himself and of priestly descent, he was, moreover, not ignorant of the prophecies in the sacred books. At that hour he was inspired to read their meaning, and, recalling the dreadful images of his recent dreams, he offered up a secret prayer to God. “Since it pleases Thee” (so it ran), “who didst create the Jewish nation, that it should now sink into the dust, and fortune has wholly passed to the Romans, and since Thou hast made choice of my spirit to announce the things that are to come, I willingly surrender to the Romans and consent to live; but I appeal to Thee to witness that I go as no traitor, but as Thy minister.”
Josephus’s Life Threatened by his Men
With these words he was about to surrender to Nicanor. But when the Jews who had sought refuge along with him understood that Josephus was yielding to entreaty, they came round him in a body, crying out, “Ah! well might the laws of our fathers groan aloud and God Himself, who implanted in Jewish breasts souls that make light of death, hide His face for shame! Is life so dear to you, Josephus, that you will endure to see the light in slavery? How soon have you forgotten yourself! How many have you persuaded to die for liberty! False, then, was that reputation for bravery, false that renown for sagacity, if you look for security from those against whom you have fought so bitterly or deign to accept the gift of your life at their hands, even were it sure. Nay, if the fortune of the Romans has cast over you some strange forgetfulness of yourself, the care of our country’s honour devolves on us. We will lend you a right hand and sword. If you die of your own free will, you shall die as general of the Jews; if involuntarily, as a traitor.” With these words they pointed their swords at him and threatened to kill him if he surrendered to the Romans.
Josephus, fearing an assault, and holding that it would be a betrayal of God’s commands, should he die before delivering his message, began to reason with them philosophically upon the emergency.[[281]]...
There follows a rhetorical speech, which one can hardly believe that Josephus’s companions would have tolerated, on the iniquity of suicide. One sentence will suffice.
“Know you not that they who depart this life in the order of nature and repay the loan which they received from God, when the Giver is pleased to recover it, enjoy eternal renown; that their houses and families are secure; that their souls remain unspotted and attentive to prayer, being allotted the most holy place in heaven, from whence, in the revolution of the ages, they again find a new habitation in saintly bodies;[[282]] while the souls of those who have laid mad hands upon themselves are received into the darkest region[[283]] of the underworld,[[284]] and God, who is their father, visits upon the children their fathers outrageous actions?”[[285]]...
With many such words did Josephus attempt to deter them from self-slaughter. But desperation stopped their ears, for they had long since devoted themselves to death; and, infuriated with him, they rushed upon him from every side, sword in hand, upbraiding him as a coward, and one and all manifestly prepared at once to strike. But he, addressing one by name, fixing his general’s eye of command upon another, clasping the hand of a third, and shaming a fourth by entreaty, distracted as he was by conflicting passions at this critical moment, yet succeeded in staving off the blades of all, always turning, like a wild beast surrounded (by the hunters), upon his last assailant. Even in his extremities, they still held their general in reverence; their hands were paralyzed, their daggers glanced aside, and many, in the act of thrusting at him, of their own impulse dropped their swords.