L. After this the Syracusans disbanded their navy, which was quite useless; besides being very expensive to the crews, and giving opportunities for the formation of plots against the government; but they continued the siege of the citadel, and thoroughly completed the wall across the isthmus. As no assistance arrived for the besieged, while their provisions began to fail, and their troops became inclined to mutiny, the son of Dionysius despaired of success, arranged terms of capitulation with Dion, handed over the citadel to him together with all the arms and other war material which it contained, and himself, taking his mother and sisters and their property on board of five triremes, sailed away to his father. Dion, permitted him to leave in safety, and his departure was witnessed by every one of the Syracusans, who even called upon the names of those who were absent, and were unable to see this day when the sun rose upon a free Syracuse. Indeed the downfall of Dionysius is one of the most remarkable instances of the vicissitudes of fortune known in history; and what then must we suppose was the joy and pride of the Syracusans, when they reflected that with such slender means they had overthrown the most powerful dynasty at that time existing in the world?
LI. After Apollokrates had sailed away and Dion had entered the citadel, the women could endure no longer to wait indoors till he came to them, but ran to the gates, Aristomache leading Dion’s son, and Arete following behind her in tears, and at a loss to know how she should greet her husband after she had been married to another. After Dion had embraced his sister and his child, Aristomache led Arete forward, and said, “Dion, we were unhappy while you were an exile; but now that you have returned and conquered you have taken away our reproach from all but Arete here, whom I have had the misery to see forced to accept another husband while you were yet alive. Now, therefore, since fortune has placed us in your power, how do you propose to settle this difficulty? Is she to embrace you as her uncle or as her husband also?” Dion shed tears at these words of Aristomache, and affectionately embraced his wife. He placed his son in her hands, and bade her go to his own house, where he himself also continued to live; for he delivered up the citadel to the people of Syracuse.
LII. After he had thus accomplished his enterprise, he reaped no advantage from his success, except that he conferred favours on his friends and rewarded his allies; while he bestowed upon his own companions, both Syracusan and Peloponnesian, such signal marks of his gratitude that his generosity even outran his means. He himself continued to live simply and frugally, while not only Sicily and Carthage, but all Greece viewed with admiration the manner in which he bore his prosperity, considering his achievements to be the greatest, and himself to be the most splendid instance of successful daring known to that age. He remained as modest in his dress, his household, and his table, as though he were still the guest of Plato in the Academy, and not living among mercenary soldiers, who recompense themselves for the hardships and dangers of their lives by daily indulgence in sensual pleasures. Plato wrote a letter to him, in which he informed him that the eyes of all the world were fixed upon him; but Plato probably only alluded to one place in one city, namely the Academy, and meant that the critics and judges of Dion therein assembled did not admire his exertions or his victory, but only considered whether he bore himself discreetly and modestly in his success, and showed moderation now that he was all-powerful, Dion made a point of maintaining the same haughty demeanour in society, and of treating the people with the same severity as before, although the times demanded that he should unbend, and though Plato, as we have said before, wrote to him bidding him remember that an arrogant temper is the consort of a lonely life. However, Dion appears to have been naturally inclined to harshness, and besides was desirous of reforming the manners of the Syracusans, who were excessively licentious and corrupt.
LIII. Now Herakleides again opposed him. When Dion sent for him to attend at the council, he refused to come, declaring that he was a mere private man, and would go only to the public assembly with the other citizens. Next he reproached Dion for not having demolished the citadel, for having restrained the people when they wished to break open the tomb of Dionysius (the elder) and cast out his body, and for having insulted his own fellow-countrymen by sending to Corinth for counsellors and colleagues. Indeed, Dion had sent to Corinth for some commissioners from that city, hoping that their presence would assist him in effecting the reforms which he meditated. Like Plato, he regarded a pure democracy as not being a government at all, but rather a warehouse of all forms of government: and his intention was to establish a constitution, somewhat on the Lacedæmonian or Cretan model, by a judicious combination of monarchy and oligarchy: and he saw that the government of Corinth was more of an oligarchy than a democracy, and that few important measures were submitted to the people. As Dion expected that Herakleides would most vehemently oppose these projects, and was moreover a turbulent, fickle, and facetious personage, he gave him up to those who had long before desired to kill him, but whom he had formerly restrained from doing so. These men broke into the house of Herakleides and killed him. The Syracusans were deeply grieved at his death; yet, as Dion gave him a splendid funeral, followed the corpse at the head of his army, and afterwards made a speech to the people, they forgave him, reflecting that their city could never have obtained rest while Dion and Herakleides were both engaged in political life.
LIV. One of Dion’s companions was an Athenian named Kallippus, who, we are told by Plato, became intimate with him, not because of his learning, but because he happened to have initiated Dion into some religious mysteries. This man took part in Dion’s expedition, and received especial honours, being the first of all Dion’s comrades who marched into Syracuse with him, wearing a garland on his head, and he had always distinguished himself in the combats which took place since that time. Now, seeing that the noblest and best of Dion’s friends had fallen in the war, and that by the death of Herakleides the Syracusan people were deprived of their leader, while he had greater influence than any one else with Dion’s mercenary soldiers, Kallippus conceived a scheme of detestable villainy. No doubt he hoped to obtain the whole of Sicily as his reward for murdering Dion, though some writers state that he received a bribe of twenty talents from Dion’s personal enemies. He now drew several of the mercenary soldiers into a conspiracy against Dion, conducting his plot in a most ingenious and treacherous manner. He was in the habit of informing Dion of any treasonable speeches, whether true or invented by himself, which he said that he had heard from the mercenary troops, and by this means gained such entire confidence with him, that he was able to hold secret meetings and plot against Dion with whichever of the soldiers he pleased, having Dion’s express command to do so, in order that none of the disaffected party might escape his notice. By this means Kallippus was easily enabled to find out all the worst and most discontented of the mercenaries, and to organise a conspiracy amongst them; while, if any man refused to listen to his proposals and denounced him to Dion, he took no heed of it and showed no anger, believing that Kallippus was merely carrying out his own instructions.
LV. When the plot was formed, Dion beheld a great and portentous vision. Late in the evening he was sitting alone in the hall[495] of his house, plunged in thought. Suddenly he heard a noise on the other side of the court, and, looking up, as it was not quite dark, saw a tall woman, with the face and dress of a Fury as represented upon the stage, sweeping the house with a kind of broom. He was terribly startled, and became so much alarmed that he sent for his friends, described the vision to them, and besought them to remain with him during the night, as he was beside himself with fright, and dreaded lest if he were alone the apparition might return. This, however, did not take place. A few days after this his son, now almost grown up, took offence at some trifling affront, and destroyed himself by throwing himself headlong from the roof of the house.
LVI. While Dion was thus alarmed and distressed, Kallippus all the more eagerly carried out his plot. He spread a rumour among the Syracusans that Dion, being childless, had determined to recall Apollokrates, the son of Dionysius, and to make him his heir, since he was his wife’s nephew, and his sister’s grandson. By this time Dion and the women of his household began to entertain some suspicion of the plot, and information of it reached them from all quarters. Dion, however, grieved at the murder of Herakleides, as though that crime had stained his glory, had become low-spirited and miserable, and frequently said that he was willing to die, and would let any man cut his throat, if he were obliged to live amidst constant precautions against his friends as well as his enemies. Kallippus, who perceived that the women had discovered the whole plot, came to them in great alarm, denying that he had any share in it, shedding tears, and offering to give any pledge of his loyalty which they chose to ask for. They demanded that he should swear the great oath, which is as follows:—The person who is about to swear enters the precinct of the temple of Demeter and Persephone, and after certain religious ceremonies puts on the purple robe of the goddess Persephone, and swears, holding a lighted torch in his hand. All this was done by Kallippus, and after swearing the oath he was impious enough to wait for the festival of the goddess whose name he had taken in vain, and to commit the murder on the day which was specially dedicated to her, although, perhaps, he thought nothing about the profanation of that particular day, but considered that it would be wickedness enough to murder the man whom he had himself initiated into the mysteries, on whatever day he might do it.
LVII. Many were now in the plot; and when Dion was sitting with his friends in a room furnished with several couches, some of the conspirators surrounded the house, while others stood at the doors and windows. Those who intended to do the deed were Zakynthians, and entered the house in their tunics, without swords. Those who remained outside made fast the doors, while those within rushed upon Dion, and endeavoured to strangle him. As, however, they could not accomplish this, they asked for a sword; but no one ventured to open the doors, because within the house were many of Dion’s friends, but as each of these imagined that, if he gave up Dion, he himself might get away safe, no one would help him. After some delay, a Syracusan, named Lykon, handed a dagger through a window to the Zakynthians, with which, as if sacrificing a victim, they cut the throat of Dion, who had long before been overpowered and had given himself up for lost. His sister and his wife, who was pregnant, were at once cast into prison, where the unhappy woman was delivered of a male child. The women prevailed upon the keepers of the prison to spare the child’s life, and obtained their request the more readily because Kallippus was already in difficulties.
LVIII. After Kallippus had murdered Dion, he at once became a person of importance, and had the entire government of Syracuse in his hands. He even sent despatches to Athens, a city which, next to the gods, he ought, especially to have dreaded, after having brought such pollution and sacrilege upon himself. However, the saying appears to be true, that that city produces both the best of good and the worst of wicked men, just as the territory of Athens produces both the sweetest honey and the most poisonous hemlock. Kallippus did not long survive to mock the justice of heaven, lest the gods might have been thought to disregard a man who, by such a crime, had obtained so great wealth and power; but he soon paid the penalty of his wickedness. He set out to capture Katana, and in doing so lost Syracuse; upon which he is said to have remarked, that he had lost a city and gained a cheese-scraper. In an attack upon Messenia he lost most of his soldiers, among whom were the murderers of Dion. As no city in Sicily would receive him, but all hated him and attacked him, he proceeded to Rhegium, where, as he was quite ruined and could no longer maintain his mercenary soldiers, he was murdered by Leptines and Polyperchon, who chanced to use the self-same dagger with which Dion is said to have been slain. It was recognised by being very short, after the Laconian fashion, and by its workmanship, for it was admirably carved with figures in high relief. Such was the retribution which befel Kallippus; while Aristomache and Arete, when they were released from prison, fell into the power of Hiketes, a Syracusan, who had been one of Dion’s friends, and who treated them at first loyally and honourably, but afterwards, at the instigation of some of the enemies of Dion, sent them on board of a ship, on the pretext of sending them to Peloponnesus, and gave orders to the people of the ship to put them to death and throw their bodies into the sea. They, however, are said to have thrown them alive into the sea, and the child with them. This man also paid a fitting penalty for his crimes, for he was taken and put to death by Timoleon, and the Syracusans put to death his two daughters to avenge the murder of Dion. All of this I have already described at length in the Life of Timoleon.