[1] With Cassius matters had gone as follows. He had been disturbed to see the first sally of the troops of Brutus, which was made without watch-word or command, and when, being victorious, they rushed at once after booty and spoil, with no thought for the envelopment of the enemy, he was vexed at the way things were going.
[2] Besides, exercising his command with hesitation and delay rather than with readiness and decision, he was enveloped by the enemy’s right wing. His horsemen at once broke away in flight towards the sea, and seeing his infantry also around he tried to rally them.
[3] He snatched the standard from a standard-bearer who was in flight, and planted it in the ground before him, although not even his body-guard were inclined to hold together any more.
[4] Thus, then, under compulsion, he withdrew with a few followers to a lull overlooking the plain. But he himself could see nothing, or next to nothing, of the sacking of his camp, for his vision was weak; the horsemen about him, however, saw a great troop riding up which Brutus had sent.
[5] But Cassius conjectured that they were enemies, and in pursuit of him. Nevertheless, he sent out one of those who were with him, Titinius, to reconnoitre.
[6] The horsemen spied this man as he came towards them, and when they saw that he was a trusted friend of Cassius, his intimates, shouting for joy, leaped from their horses and embraced him warmly, while the rest rode round him with shouts and clashing of arms, thus, in their boundless joy, working the greatest mischief.
[7]
For Cassius thought that Titinius was actually taken by the enemy, and with the words My love of life has brought me to the pass of seeing a friend seized by the enemy, he withdrew into an empty tent, forcing along with him one of his freedmen, Pindarus, whom, after the disaster which befell Crassus, 1 he used to keep in readiness for this emergency.
For Cassius thought that Titinius was actually taken by the enemy, and with the words My love of life has brought me to the pass of seeing a friend seized by the enemy, he withdrew into an empty tent, forcing along with him one of his freedmen, Pindarus, whom, after the disaster which befell Crassus, 1 he used to keep in readiness for this emergency.
[8] From the Parthians, indeed, he had made his escape; but now, drawing his robes up over his face and laying bare his neck, he offered it to the sword. For his head was found severed from his body. Pindarus, however, no man saw after the bloody deed, and therefore some have thought that he slew his master unbidden.
[9] A little later it became evident who the horsemen were, and Titinius, whom they had crowned with garlands, came up to report to Cassius. But when the lamentable cries of his distressed and weeping friends made known to him the grievous fate of his general and his error, he drew his sword, reproached himself bitterly for his slowness, and slew himself.
Brutus. Plutarch. Cambridge, MA. 1918.
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