V. Yet Demetrius always behaved well to his parents, whereas Antonius allowed his mother’s brother to perish in order that he might compass the death of Cicero, which was of itself so odious a crime that we should scarcely think Antonius justified if by Cicero’s death he had saved his uncle’s life. With regard to the perjuries and breaking of their words which they both committed, the one in seizing Artabazus, and the other in murdering Alexander, Antonius has a satisfactory defence; for he himself was first deserted and betrayed by Artabazus in Media: while many writers say that Demetrius himself invented false pretexts for his treatment of Alexander, and accused a man whom he had wronged with a design on his life, instead of defending himself against one who was already his enemy. Again, the exploits of Demetrius were all accomplished by himself in person; while, on the other hand, Antonius won some of his most important battles by his lieutenants, without himself being present.
VI. The ruin of both was due to themselves, though in a different manner, for the Macedonians deserted from Demetrius, while Antonious deserted his own troops when they were risking their lives in his defence; so that we must blame the former for having rendered his army so hostile to him, and the latter for betraying so much loyalty and devotion. In their manner of death neither can be praised, but that of Demetrius seems the less creditable of the two, for he endured to be taken prisoner, and when in confinement willingly spent three years in drinking and gluttony, like a wild beast that has been tamed; while Antonius, though he killed himself like a coward, and in a piteous and dishonourable fashion, nevertheless died before he fell into the hands of his enemy.
LIFE OF DION.
I. We are told by the poet Simonides, Sossius Senecio, that the Trojans bore no malice against the Corinthians for joining the rest of the Greeks in the siege of Troy, because Glaukus, who was himself of Corinthian extraction, fought heartily on their side. In the same manner we may expect that neither Greeks nor Romans will be able to blame the doctrines of the academy, as each nation derives equal credit from their practice in this book of mine, which contains the lives of Brutus and Dion, of whom the latter was Plato’s intimate friend, while the former was educated by his writings: so that they were both, as it were, sent forth from the same school to contend for the greatest prizes. It is not surprising, therefore, that there should be a great similarity between their respective achievements, or that they should have proved the truth of that maxim of their teacher, that nothing great or noble can be effected in politics except when a wise and just man is possessed of absolute power combined with good fortune. Just as Hippomachus the gymnastic trainer used to declare that he could always tell by their carriage those who had been his pupils, even though he only saw them from a distance when they were carrying meat home for their dinner, so we may imagine that philosophy accompanies those who have been brought up in its precepts in every action of their lives, adding a happy grace and fitness to all that they do.
II. Their lives resemble one another even more in their misfortunes than in the objects at which they aimed. Both of them perished by an untimely fate, unable, with all their mighty efforts, to accomplish the object which they had in view. The most remarkable point of all is that they both received a supernatural warning of their death by the appearance to them of an evil spirit in a dream. Yet it is a common argument with those who deny the truth of such matters that no man of sense ever could see a ghost or spirit but that it is only children and women and men who are wandering in their mind through sickness, who through disorder of the brain or distemperature of the body are subject to these vain and ominous fancies, which really arise from the evil spirit of superstition within themselves. If, however, Dion and Brutus, both of whom were serious and philosophic men, not at all liable to be mistaken or easy to be deceived about such matters, did really experience a supernatural visitation so distinctly that they told other persons about it, I do not know whether we may not be obliged to adopt that strangest of all the theories of the ancients that evil and malignant spirits feel a spite against good men, and try to oppose their actions, throwing confusion and terror in their way in order to shake them in their allegiance to virtue; because they fear lest if they passed their lives entirely pure and without spot of sin, they might after death obtain a higher place than themselves. This, however, I must reserve for discussion in another place; and now, in this my twelfth book of parallel lives, I will first proceed to deal with the elder man of the two.
III. Dionysius the elder, as soon as he had raised himself to the throne, married the daughter of Hermokrates of Syracuse. However, as his power was not yet firmly established, the people of Syracuse rose in revolt, and committed such shocking outrages upon the person of Dionysius’s wife, that she voluntarily put herself to death. Dionysius, after recovering and confirming his power, now married two wives at the same time, one of whom was a Lokrian, named Doris, and the other a native of Syracuse, named Aristomache, the daughter of Hipparinus, one of the first men in Syracuse, who had acted as colleague with Dionysius himself when he was appointed to the command of the army with unlimited powers. It is said that he married them both upon the same day, and that no man knew which he visited first; and of the remainder of his life he spent an equal share of his time with each, as he always supped in company with both of them, and spent the night with each in turn. The populace of Syracuse would fain have hoped that their countrywoman would be preferred to the stranger; but it was the stranger who first bore a son and heir to Dionysius, to counterbalance her foreign parentage; while Aristomache remained childless for a long time, although Dionysius was anxious to have a family by her, and even put to death the mother of his Lokrian wife on a charge of having bewitched her.
IV. Dion was the brother of Aristomache, and at first was treated with respect for the sake of his sister, but afterwards, when he had given proofs of his ability, he gained the favour of the despot by his own good qualities. Besides many other privileges, Dionysius ordered his treasurers to give Dion anything that he might ask for, letting him know on the same day what they had given him. He was naturally of a high minded and manly disposition, and he was greatly encouraged in the path of virtue by the providential accident of Plato’s visit to Sicily. This never could have been calculated upon according to human ideas of probability; but it seems as though some divinity, who had long been meditating how to put liberty within the reach of the Syracusans and to free them from despotism, must have brought Plato from Italy to Syracuse, and caused Dion to become his disciple. Dion at this time was very young, but was by far the most apt of Plato’s scholars, and the readiest to follow out his master’s instructions in virtue. This we learn from Plato’s own account of him, and from the circumstances of the case. Brought up as Dion had been in the humble position of a subject under a despotic ruler, his life had been full of sudden alarms and violent alternations of fortune; yet, though he was at this time accustomed to live in a state of parvenu splendour, and to regard pleasure and power as the only objects of desire, he, as soon as he had become acquainted with philosophic reasoning and exhortation to virtue, became passionately interested in it. With the guileless innocence of youth he imagined that the discourses which he had heard would produce an equally deep impression upon the mind of Dionysius, and took considerable pains to bring Dionysius to meet Plato and listen to his arguments.