[1] And now Dion, seeing that fortune compelled him either to fight against his fellow citizens or perish with his mercenaries, fervently besought the Syracusans, stretching out his hands to them, and pointing out to them the acropolis, which was full of enemies peering over the walls and watching what was going on below;
[2] but since no entreaties could stay the onset of the multitudes, and the city, like a ship at sea, was at the mercy of the blasts of its demagogues, he ordered his mercenaries not to make a charge, but simply to run towards their assailants with loud cries and brandishing of weapons; which being done, not a Syracusan stood his ground, but all promptly took to flight along the streets, where none pursued them. For Dion immediately ordered his men to wheel about, and led them forth to Leontini.
[3]
But the leaders of the Syracusans, now that they were become a laughing-stock for the women, sought to redeem their disgrace, armed the citizens again, and pursued after Dion.
But the leaders of the Syracusans, now that they were become a laughing-stock for the women, sought to redeem their disgrace, armed the citizens again, and pursued after Dion.
[4] They came upon him as he was crossing a river, and their horsemen rode up for a skirmish; but when they saw that he no longer bore with their faults in a mild and paternal spirit, but was angrily wheeling his mercenaries about and putting them in battle array, they broke into a more disgraceful flight than before, and retired into the city, with the loss of a few men.
Dion. Plutarch. Bernadotte Perrin (Translator). Cambridge, MA. 1918.
Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.
Funding provided by Tufts University.