Book 1, Chapter 35

85 “Suppose, then, a man has no troubles and has received no wound from fortune: the famous Metellus with his four sons loaded with honors, or Priam with his fifty, seventeen of them born to his lawful wife. Fortune had the same power over both, but exercised it against one. For Metellus was laid on the pyre by many sons and daughters, grandsons and granddaughters; Priam, robbed of so great a family, was killed by an enemy’s hand after fleeing to an altar. Had he died while his sons were alive and his kingdom intact,

“‘With foreign might standing by,“‘Beneath carved and coffered roofs,’

“would he, after all, have departed from good things or from evils? At the time, certainly, he would have seemed to leave good things. Yet surely his fate would have been better, and those verses would not be sung so tearfully:

“‘All this I saw given to the flames,“‘Priam’s life torn from him by force,“‘Jupiter’s altar fouled with blood.’

“As though anything better could have happened to him then than that violence! If he had died earlier, he would have escaped that outcome altogether; dying when he did, he lost the awareness of his sufferings.

86 “Our friend Pompey recovered when he was gravely ill at Naples. The Neapolitans put on garlands, as of course did the people of Puteoli; congratulations came from the towns in public celebrations everywhere. A decidedly foolish business, in the petty Greek manner, yet a happy one. If he had died then, would he have left good things or evils? From miseries, certainly. He would not have fought a war against his father-in-law, taken up arms unprepared, left his home, fled from Italy, or, after losing his army, fallen defenseless into the hands and swords of slaves; †his children would not have been mourned, nor all his property possessed by his conquerors. A man who, had he died then, would have died at the height of his prosperity—how many calamities, how great, how incredible, he swallowed by prolonging his life!”

85 “Let’s imagine a man untouched by misfortune, with no trouble at all. Think of Metellus, father of four sons who reached high office. Or think of Priam, father of fifty, seventeen born to his lawful wife. Fortune could treat either man as she pleased; she exercised that power against only one. Sons and daughters, grandsons and granddaughters, in great numbers carried Metellus onto his pyre. Priam lost that great family and sought refuge at an altar, where an enemy killed him. Suppose he’d died with his children living and his kingdom unharmed, “‘With his foreign army at hand, “‘In halls with carved and coffered ceilings.’ “Would death have removed him from blessings or evils? From blessings, it would then have seemed. Yet he would surely have been better off. There would be less cause for tears in the song: “‘I watched the whole place burn, “‘Watched Priam’s life violently ended, “‘Watched blood defile Jupiter’s altar.’ “As though that violent end weren’t the best thing that could happen to him at that point! An earlier death would have spared him the entire disaster. Death when it came spared him the feeling of his sufferings.

86 “When our friend Pompey fell dangerously sick at Naples, he got better. Naples celebrated with garlands, as did Puteoli, naturally. Towns everywhere sent official congratulations. A foolish affair, in that petty Greek way, but happy all the same. Had he died on that occasion, what would death have removed him from—blessings or evils? From terrible evils, without question. There would have been no war with his father-in-law, no taking up arms before he was ready, no abandoning his house, no flight out of Italy. He would not have lost his army and then, stripped of protection, met slaves’ swords and hands. †There would have been no mourning of his children, no seizure of his entire fortune by the victors. At that earlier moment he would have died a man enjoying the highest prosperity. Instead, extra years made him swallow disaster after disaster, immense and almost beyond belief!”