At this news Cornelia threw herself upon the ground, where she lay a long time insensible and speechless. At last, coming to herself, she perceived there was no time to be lost in tears and lamentations, and therefore hastened through the town to the sea. Pompey ran to meet her, and received her to his arms as she was just going to fall. While she hung upon his neck, she thus addressed him: "I see, my dear husband, your present unhappy condition is the effect of my ill fortune, and not yours. Alas! how are you reduced to one poor vessel, who, before your marriage with Cornelia, traversed the sea with 500 galleys! Why did you come to see me, and not rather leave me to my evil destiny, who have loaded you, too, with such a weight of calamities? How happy had it been for me to have died before I heard that Publius, my first husband, was killed by the Parthians! How wise, had I followed him to the grave, as I once intended! What have I lived for since, but to bring misfortunes upon Pompey the Great?"
Such, we are assured, was the speech of Cornelia; and Pompey answered: "Till this moment, Cornelia, you have experienced nothing but the smiles of fortune; and it was she who deceived you, because she stayed with me longer than she commonly does with her favorites. But, fated as we are, we must bear this reverse, and make another trial of her. For it is no more improbable that we may emerge from this poor condition and rise to great things again, than it was that we should fall from great things into this poor condition."
Cornelia then sent to the city for her most valuable movables and her servants.
As soon as his wife and his friends were embarked, he set sail, and continued his course without touching at any port, except for water and provisions, till he came to Attalia, a city of Pamphylia. There he was joined by some Cilician galleys; and beside picking up a number of soldiers, he found in a little time sixty senators about him. When he was informed that his fleet was still entire, and that Cato was gone to Africa with a considerable body of men which he had collected after their flight, he lamented to his friends his great error, in suffering himself to be forced into an engagement on land, and making no use of those forces, in which he was confessedly stronger; nor even taking care to fight near his fleet, that, in case of his meeting with a check on land, he might have been supplied from the sea with another army, capable of making head against the enemy. Indeed, we find no greater mistake in Pompey's whole conduct, nor a more remarkable instance of Caesar's generalship, than in removing the scene of action to such a distance from the naval force.
However, as it was necessary to undertake something with the small means he had left, he sent to some cities, and sailed to others himself, to raise money, and to get a supply of men for his ships. But knowing the extraordinary celerity of the enemy's motions, he was afraid he might be beforehand with him, and seize all that he was preparing. He, therefore, began to think of retiring to some asylum, and proposed the matter in council. They could not think of any province in the Roman empire that would afford a safe retreat; and when they cast their eyes on the foreign kingdoms, Pompey mentioned Parthia as the most likely to receive and protect them in their present weak condition, and afterwards to send them back with a force sufficient to retrieve their affairs. Others were of opinion it was proper to apply to Africa, and to Juba in particular. But Theophanes of Lesbos observed it was madness to leave Egypt, which was distant but three days' sail. Besides, Ptolemy, who was growing towards manhood, had particular obligations to Pompey on his father's account. As so it was determined that they should seek for refuge in Egypt. Being informed that Ptolemy was with his army at Pelusium, where he was engaged in war with his sister, he proceeded thither, and sent a messenger before him to announce his arrival, and to entreat the king's protection.
Ptolemy was very young, fourteen years of age, and Photinus, his prime minister, called a council of his ablest officers; though their advice had no more weight than he was pleased to allow it. He ordered each, however, to give his opinion. But who can, without indignation, consider that the fate of Pompey the Great was to be determined by the wretch Photinus, by Theodotus, a man of Chios, who was hired to teach the prince rhetoric, and by Achillas, an Egyptian? For among the king's chamberlains and tutors these had the greatest influence over him and were the persons he most consulted. Pompey lay at anchor at some distance from the place waiting the determination of this respectable board; while he thought it beneath him to be indebted to Caesar for his safety. The council were divided in their opinions, some advising the prince to give him an honorable reception, and others to send him an order to depart. But Theodotus, to display his eloquence, insisted that both were wrong. "If you receive him," said he, "you will have Caesar for your enemy, and Pompey for your master. If you order him off, Pompey may one day revenge the affront and Caesar resent your not having put him in his hands: the best method, therefore, is to send for him and put him to death. By this means you will do Caesar a favor, and have nothing to fear from Pompey." He added with a smile, "Dead men do not bite."
This advice being approved of, the execution of it was committed to Achillas. In consequence of which he took with him Septimius, who had formerly been one of Pompey's officers, and Salvius, who had also acted under him as a centurion, with three or four assistants, and made up to Pompey's ship, where his principal friends and officers had assembled to see how the affair went on. When they perceived there was nothing magnificent in their reception, nor suitable to the hopes which Theophanes had conceived, but that a few men only in a fishing-boat came to wait upon them, such want of respect appeared a suspicious circumstance, and they advised Pompey, while he was out of the reach of missive weapons, to get out to the main sea.
Meantime, the boat approaching, Septimius spoke first, addressing Pompey in Latin by the title of Imperator. Then Achillas saluted him in Greek, and desired him to come into the boat, because the water was very shallow towards the shore, and a galley must strike upon the sands. At the same time they saw several of the king's ships getting ready, and the shore covered with troops, so that if they would have changed their minds it was then too late; besides, their distrust would have furnished the assassins with a pretence for their injustice. He therefore embraced Cornelia, who lamented his sad exit before it happened; and ordered two centurions, one of his enfranchised slaves, named Philip, and a servant called Scenes, to get into the boat before him. When Achillas had hold of his hand, and he was going to step in himself, he turned to his wife and son, and repeated that verse of Sophocles—
Seek'st thou a tyrant's door?
Then farewell freedom!
Though FREE as air before.
These were the last words he spoke to them.