XXI. This, Pheidolaus, is what has occurred to me to think about the Divine Sign of Socrates, in his lifetime and since his death, dismissing with contempt those who have suggested voices or sneezings or anything of that sort. But what I have heard Timarchus of Chaeroneia relate on this head it may perhaps be better to pass over in silence, as more like myth than history. ‘Not at all;’ said Theocritus, ‘let us have it all. Even myth touches truth, not too closely, perhaps, but it does touch it at points. But first, who was this Timarchus? Explain, for I do not know him.’ ‘Naturally, Theocritus,’|590|said Simmias, ‘for he died quite young, having begged that he might be buried near Lamprocles, the son of Socrates, who had died a few days before, his own friend and contemporary. He then greatly wished to know what was really meant by the Divine Sign of Socrates, and so, like a generous youth fresh to the taste of Philosophy, having taken no one but Cebes and myself into his plan, went down into the cave of Trophonius, after performing the usual rites of the oracle. Two nights and one day he remained below; and when most people had given him up, and his family was mourning for|B|him, at early dawn he came up very radiant. He knelt to the God, then made his way at once through the crowd, and related to us many wonderful things which he had seen and heard.
XXII. ‘He said that, when he descended into the oracularchamber, he first found himself in a great darkness; then, after a prayer, lay a long while not very clearly conscious whether he was awake or dreaming; only he fancied that his head received a blow, while a dull noise fell on his ears, and then the sutures parted and allowed his soul to issue forth. As it passed upwards, rejoicing to mingle with the pure transparent air, it appeared|C|first to draw a long deep breath, after its narrow compression, and to become larger than before, like a sail as it is filled out. Then he heard dimly a whirring noise overhead out of which came a sweet voice. He looked up and saw land nowhere, only islands shining with lambent fire, from time to time changing colour with one another, as though it were a coat of dye, while the light became spangled in the transition. They appeared to be countless in number and in size enormous, not all equal but all alike circular. He thought that as these moved around there was an answering hum of the air, for the gentleness of|D|that voice which was harmonized out of all corresponded to the smoothness of the motion. Through the midst of the islands a sea or lake was interfused, all shining with the colours as they were commingled over its grey surface. Some few islands floated in a straight course and were conveyed across the current; many others were drawn on by the flood, being almost submerged. The sea was of great depth in some parts towards the south, but [northwards[43]] there were very shallow reaches, and it often swept over places and then left them dry, having no strong|E|ebb. The colour was in places pure as that of the open sea, in others turbid and marsh-like. As the islands passed through the surf they never came round to their starting-point again or described a circle, but slightly varied the points of impact, thus describing a continuous spiral as they went round. The sea was inclined to the approximate middle and highest part of the encompassing firmament by a little less than eight-ninthsof the whole, as it appeared to him. It had two openings which|F|received rivers of fire pouring in from opposite sides, so that it was lashed into foam, and its grey surface was turned to white. This he saw, delighted at the spectacle; but as he turned his eyes downwards, there appeared a chasm, vast and round as though hewn out of a sphere; it was strangely terrible and deep and full of utter darkness, not in repose but often agitated and surging up; from which were heard roarings innumerable and groanings of beasts, and wailings of innumerable infants, and with these mingled cries of men and women, dim sounds of all sorts, and turmoils sent up indistinctly from the distant depth,|591|to his no small consternation. Time passed, and an unseen person said to him, “Timarchus, what do you wish to learn?” “Everything,” he replied, “for all is wonderful.” “We”, the voice said, “have little to do with the regions above, they belong to other Gods; but the province of Persephone which we administer, being one of the four which Styx bounds, you may survey if you will.” To his question, “What is Styx?” “A way to Hades,” was the reply, “and it passes right opposite, parting the light at its very vertex, but reaching up, as you see, from Hades below; where it touches the light in its revolution|B|it marks off the remotest region of all. Now, there are four first principles of all things, the first of life, the second of motion, the third of birth, the fourth of death. The first is linked to the second by Unity, in the Unseen: the second to the third by Mind, in the sun: the third to the fourth by Nature, in the moon. Over each of these combinations a Fate, daughter of Necessity, presides, and holds the keys; of the first Atropus, of the second, Clotho, of the one belonging to the moon Lachesis, and the turning-point of birth is there. For the other islands contain Gods, but the moon, which belongs to|C|earthly spirits, only avoids Styx by a slight elevation, and is caught once in one hundred and seventy-seven secondarymeasures[44]. As Styx moves upon her, the souls cry aloud in terror; for many slip from off her and are caught by Hades. Others the moon bears upwards from below, as they turn towards her; and for these death coincides with the moment of birth, those excepted which are guilty and impure, and which are not allowed to approach her while she lightens and bellows fearfully; mourning for their own fate they slip away and are borne downwards for another birth, as you see.” “But I see|D|nothing,” said Timarchus, “save many stars quivering around the gulf, others sinking into it, others, again, darting up from below.” “Then you see the spirits themselves,” the voice said, “though you do not know it. It is thus: every soul partakes of mind, there is none irrational or mindless; but so much of soul as is mingled with flesh and with affections is altered and turned towards the irrational by its sense of pleasures and pains. But the mode of mingling is not the same for every soul. Some are merged entirely into body, and are disturbed by passions throughout their whole being during life. Others|E|are in part mixed up with it, but leave outside their purest part, which is not drawn in, but is like a life-buoy which floats on the surface, and touches the head of one who has sunk into the depth, the soul clinging around it and being kept upright, while so much of it is supported as obeys and is not overmastered by the affections. The part which is borne below the surface within the body is called soul. That which is left free from dissolution most persons call mind, taking it to be something inside themselves, resembling the reflected images in mirrors; but those who are rightly informed know that it is outside themselves and address it as spirit. The stars, Timarchus,” the voice went on, “which you see extinguished, you are to|F|think of as souls entirely merged in bodies; those which give light again and shine from below upwards, shaking off, as though it were mud, a sort of gloom and dimness, are thosewhich sail up again out of their bodies after death; those which are parted upwards are spirits, and belong to men who are said to have understanding. Try to see clearly in each the bond by which it coheres with soul.” Hearing this, he paid closer attention himself, and saw the stars tossing about, some less, some more, as we see the corks which mark out nets in the sea move over its surface; but some, like the shuttles used in|592|weaving, in entangled and irregular figures, not able to settle the motion into a straight line. The voice said that those who kept a straight and orderly movement were men whose souls had been well broken in by fair nurture and training, and did not allow their irrational part to be too harsh and rough. Those which often inclined upwards and downwards in an irregular and confused manner, like horses plunging off from a halter, were|B|fighting against the yoke with tempers disobedient and ill-trained for want of education; sometimes getting the mastery and swerving round to the right; again bent by passions and drawn on to share in sins, then again resisting and putting force upon them. The coupling bond, like a curb set on the irrational part of the soul whenever it resists, brings on repentance, as we call it, for sins, and shame for all lawless and intemperate pleasures, being really a pain and a stroke inflicted by it on the soul when it is bitted by that which masters and rules it, until at length, being thus punished, it becomes obedient to the rein|C|and familiar with it, and then, like a tame creature, without blow or pain, understands the spirit quickly by signs and hints. These then are led, late in the day and by slow degrees, to their duty. Out of those who are docile and obedient to their spirit from the first birth, is formed the prophetic and inspired class, to which belonged the soul of Hermodorus[45]of Clazomenae, of which you have surely heard; how it would leave the body entirely and wander over a wide range by night and by day, and|D|then come back again, having been present where many things were said and done far off, until the enemy found the body, which his wife had betrayed, left at home deserted by its soul, and burnt it. Now this part is not true; the soul used not to go out from the body; but by always yielding to the spirit, and slackening the coupling-band, he gave it constant liberty to range around, so that it saw and heard and reported many things from the world outside. But those who destroyed the body while he was asleep are paying the penalty in Tartarus unto|E|this day. All this, young man, you shall know more clearly in the third month from this; now begone!” When the voice ceased, Timarchus wished to turn round, he said, and see who the speaker was; but his head again ached violently, as though forcibly compressed, and he could no longer hear or perceive anything passing about him; afterwards, however, he came to|F|by degrees, and saw that he was lying in the cave of Trophonius, near the entrance where he had originally sunk down.
XXIII. ‘Such was the tale of Timarchus. When he died, having returned to Athens in the third month after hearing the voice, and when, in our wonder, we told Socrates of the story, he blamed us for not reporting it while Timarchus was still alive, since he would gladly have heard it more clearly from himself, and have questioned him further. There, Theocritus, you have all, tale and theory both. But perhaps we ought to invite the stranger to join our inquiry; the subject comes nearly home to inspired men.’ ‘Well, but’, the stranger answered, ‘Epaminondas, who puts out from the same port, is not contributing his opinion.’ Our father smiled: ‘That is just his character, Sir. Silent and cautious in speaking, but a glutton for learning and listening. That is why Spintharus of Tarentum, after spending no little time with him here, is always saying, as you know, that he never met|593|any man of his own standing who knew more or who spoke less. So pray let us have all your own thoughts on the subject.’
XXIV. ‘Then, for my part,’ said Theanor, ‘I think that the story of Timarchus ought to be dedicated to the God, as holy and inviolable. But it will be strange to me if any shall be found to discredit what Simmias tells us about the matter; thus, while they designate swans, serpents, dogs and horses as sacred, refusing to believe that men may be godlike and friends of God, yet holding that God is not a friend of birds but a friend of man. As, then, a man who loves horses does not care equally for all individuals which make the class, but always picks out and separates|B|some excellent member of the class, and trains him by himself and feeds him and loves him beyond others; so it is with ourselves; the higher powers extract, if the word may pass, the best out of the herd, and deem them worthy of a very special training, directing their course, not by reins nor by halters, but by reason, through signs utterly incomprehensible to the general herd. Why, most dogs do not understand the signals used in hunting, nor most horses those used in the manège; but those who have learned know at once from a whistle or a chirrup what they are required to do, and easily take the right position. Homer clearly knows the distinction|C|to which I refer. Some of his prophets he calls “readers of dreams” and “priests”, others understand the conversation of the Gods themselves, he thinks, by sympathy, and signify the future to us. For instance:
Thus they conferred: but Helenus, Priam’s son,That scheme, which pleased them, in his heart divined.[46]
Thus they conferred: but Helenus, Priam’s son,That scheme, which pleased them, in his heart divined.[46]
Thus they conferred: but Helenus, Priam’s son,That scheme, which pleased them, in his heart divined.[46]
Thus they conferred: but Helenus, Priam’s son,
That scheme, which pleased them, in his heart divined.[46]
And again:
So the everlasting voice I have heard and known.[47]
So the everlasting voice I have heard and known.[47]
So the everlasting voice I have heard and known.[47]
So the everlasting voice I have heard and known.[47]
The mind of kings and generals is made known to outsiders through the senses, by special beacons or proclamation, or calls on the trumpet; and so the divine message reaches few of us in and|D|through itself, and that rarely; for ordinary men signals are employed and these are the groundwork of what we call divination.The Gods, then, regulate life only for a few, for those whom they wish to make blessed in a single degree, and truly divine; but souls released from coming to the birth, and now for ever at rest from a body, and dismissed into freedom, are spirits who care for men, in Hesiod’s sense. For as athletes, when age has brought them an end of training, do not wholly lose the spirit of competition or of care for the body, but delight to see others in practice, and cheer them on and run beside them, so|E|those who have ceased from the struggles of life, made spirits because of the excellence of their soul, do not utterly despise our earthly affairs, our discussions and our interests: they have a kindly feeling for those training with the same end before them, they share their eagerness for virtue, encourage them, and join them in their bursts, whenever they see them running with hope near at hand and already within touch. For the spirit does not help|F|all men as they come. It is as with swimmers upon the sea; spectators on the shore merely gaze in silence on those who are out in the open, drifting far from land; whereas they run along the beach towards those who are already nearing it, they dash in to meet them, and with hand, and voice, and endeavour, hasten to the rescue. Such, Simmias, is the way of a spirit; while we are dipped beneath the tides of life, changing body for body, like relays on a road, he allows us to struggle out for ourselves, to be brave and patient, to try by our own virtue to reach the harbour in safety. But when any soul through a myriad of births has striven once and again a long-drawn strife well and stoutly, and when, with the cycle now wellnigh complete, it|594|takes the risks, and sets its hope high, as it nears the landing-place, and presses upwards with sweat and endeavour, the God thinks it no wrong that its own spirit should go to the help of such a soul, but lets zeal go free, and the Gods are zealous to encourage and to save, one this soul and one that. The soul hearkens because it is so near, and it is saved; but if it does not hearken the spirit leaves it, and its happy chance is gone.’
XXV. As he finished, Epaminondas looked at me. ‘It is nearly your time, Capheisias, to go to the gymnasium and not fail your comrades; we will take care of Theanor, and break up|B|our conference whenever he likes.’ ‘Let us do so,’ I said, ‘but I think Theocritus here wants a few words with you while Galaxidorus and I are present.’ ‘By all means’, said he; he rose and led the way to the angle of the portico. We stood round and tried to encourage him to join the scheme. He answered that he perfectly well knew the day of the return of the exiles, and had arranged with Gorgidas as to all that was necessary for our friends, but that he refused to take the life of any citizen without trial, unless there were an urgent necessity; also, looking to the body of the Thebans, it was specially convenient that there should be some person with hands clean|C|and beyond suspicion, when the time should come to advise the people for the best. We agreed, and he returned at once to Simmias and his party. We went down to the gymnasium and met our friends, and, pairing off for wrestling matches, exchanged information and plans for action. We saw also Archias and Philippus, anointed and starting for the supper. For Phyllidas,|D|fearing that they might put Amphitheus to death first, called on Archias immediately after he had escorted Lysanoridas, and by suggesting hopes that the lady he desired to meet would come to the place, persuaded him to turn his mind to having a good time with the usual companions of his revels.
XXVI. It was now getting late, and the cold was intense, as the wind had got up. Most people had therefore made for their homes more quickly than usual. We had fallen in with Damocleidas, Pelopidas, and Theopompus, and were taking them with us, as others took others of the exiles. For the party had broken up immediately after crossing Cithaeron; and the bitter|E|weather allowed them to muffle up their faces and pass through the city in security. Some of them were met by alightning flash on the right without thunder, as they entered through the gates; and the sign seemed favourable for safety and glory, with a bright issue to follow and no danger.
XXVII. So when we were all inside, two short of fifty, while Theocritus was sacrificing by himself in an outbuilding, there was a loud knocking at the door; and presently some one came in to say that two servants of Archias, sent on an urgent message to Charon, were knocking at the courtyard gate and calling for it to|F|be opened, and were angry at the slowness of the response. Charon was much disturbed, and gave orders to open to them at once, while he himself went to meet them, the crown on his head showing that he had sacrificed and was at his wine, and asked the messengers what they wanted. One of them replied: ‘Archias and Philippus sent us, you are to come to them as quickly as you can.’ When Charon asked, ‘What is the reason of this hasty summons, and is there anything new?’ ‘We know nothing further,’ answered the messenger, ‘but what shall we tell them?’ ‘This, by Zeus,’ said Charon, ‘that as soon as I have put off this crown and got my cloak, I will follow you. For, if I go straight off with you, there will be an alarm; people will think that I am in|595|custody.’ ‘Do so,’ they said, ‘for we too have orders to convey from the magistrates to the guard of the lower city.’ So they went off. When Charon came in and told us this, we were all aghast, thinking we had been betrayed. Most of us were inclined to suspect Hippostheneidas; he had tried to hinder the return by sending Chlidon, and when that failed and the dread moment was upon us, he had used his plausible tongue to betray the scheme, out of fear; for he did not come with the rest into the house, but the whole impression he gave us was of a coward and turncoat. However, we all thought that Charon ought to go, and obey the|B|summons of the magistrates. He ordered his son to come in, the handsomest boy in Thebes, Archidamus, and the most painstaking in his gymnastics; barely fifteen, but in strength and sizefar above others of his age. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘he is my only one, and, as you know, I love him dearly; I place him in your hands, and charge you in the name of the Gods, and in the name of the spirits, if I should appear a traitor to your cause, slay him, and spare us not. For the rest, my gallant friends, set yourselves to meet the event; do not give in like shabby cowards, or allow this scum to slay your bodies; defend yourselves, keep your souls|C|above defeat, they are our country’s!’ As Charon said this, we were wondering at his spirit and noble heart, though indignant at his idea of suspicion on our part, and bade him take the boy away. ‘More than that, Charon,’ said Pelopidas, ‘we think that you have not been well advised in that you have not already removed your son to another house. What need for him to run our risks if taken with us? You must send him away even now, so that, if anything happen to us, one noble nursling may be left to be our avenger on the tyrants.’ ‘Not so;’ said Charon, ‘here he shall stay and share your risks; for, even in his interest, it is not|D|good that he should fall into the enemy’s hands. But you, my boy, be daring beyond your years, taste the struggles which must come, take risks with our many brave countrymen in the cause of freedom and valour; much hope still is left, and I think that a God is surely watching over us in our contest for the right.’
XXVIII. Tears came to many of us, Archidamus, at the words of Charon. Dry-eyed himself and unmoved, he placed his son in the hands of Pelopidas, and made his way through the doors with a word of greeting and encouragement for each of us. Even more would you have admired the bright and fearless bearing of the boy himself in the peril. Like Neoptolemus,[48]he showed no|E|paleness or alarm, but drew the sword of Pelopidas and seemed to study it. In the meantime, Diotonus, a friend of Cephisodorus, came in to us, sword in hand, and wearing a steel breastplateunder his clothes; and when we told him of Charon being sent for by Archias, blamed us for losing time, and implored us to go straight to the houses, where we should be upon them before they were ready; failing that, it would be better, he said, to go out into the open and form our parties there out of the scattered and uncombined units, rather than shut ourselves up in a chamber|F|and wait like a swarm of bees to be cut out by the enemy. The prophet Theocritus added his urgent appeal; his victims showed a clear and good result, and assured him of safety.
XXIX. While we were arming and making arrangements, Charon reappeared, his face radiant. Smiling as he looked at us, he bade us take heart; there was no danger and the business was moving on. ‘Archias’, he said, ‘and Philippus, when they heard|596|that I had obeyed their summons, were already heavy with drink, sodden alike in body and mind; it was all they could do to stand upon their feet and move out towards the door. When Archias said: “Charon, we hear that exiles have passed into the city and are being concealed”, I was not a little troubled. “Where are they said to be?” I asked, “and who are they?” “We do not know,” replied Archias, “and therefore ordered you to come, on the chance that you might have heard something more certain.” I took a moment to recover my senses, as if after a blow, and began to put things together. The information given could be no substantial story; the plot had not been betrayed by any of those privy to it; for the tyrants could not be in ignorance as to|B|the house if their information came from any person with real knowledge; it must be merely a suspicion or some indefinite rumour circulating in the city which had reached them. So I answered: “I remember that in the lifetime of Androcleidas there were often reports of the kind floating idly about and causing us annoyance. But at the present time, Archias,” I went on, “I have heard nothing of the sort; however, I will inquire into the story, if you so desire, and, if I hearanything worth attention, you shall not fail to know.” “By all means,” said Phyllidas, “look well into this matter and leave no stone unturned. What is to prevent us? We must think nothing beneath our notice, but must take all precautions and pay attention. Forethought is good; safety is good!” As he said|C|this, he took Archias by the arm and led him off into the house where they are drinking. ‘Now, friends,’ he went on, ‘no delay for us, a prayer to the Gods, and forth we go!’ When Charon had said this, we spent a while in prayer and mutual encouragement.
XXX. It was now the hour at which people are mostly at supper; the wind was still rising and drove beneath it snow with drizzle, so that the narrow streets were quite empty as we made our way through them. The party told off against Leontides and Hypates, who lived near one another, went out cloaked and carrying no arms but a sword apiece (among|D|these were Pelopidas, Damocleidas, and Cephisodorus). Charon, Melon, and the rest who were to attack Archias, wore half-cuirasses, and thick wreaths, some of firwood, some of pine. Some were in women’s tunics, which gave the effect of a drinking procession with women. But our ill-fortune, Archidamus, which set all the weakness and ignorance of the enemy on a level with all our daring and preparation, and chequered our action from the outset with perilous episodes like a stage play, met us at|E|the moment of action, and sharp and terrible was the crisis with its dramatic surprise. Charon, having satisfied Archias and Philippus, had returned home and was putting us through our parts, when there came a letter from this city; it was from Archias the priest to Archias of Thebes, an old friend and guest, it would seem, with full news of the return and plot of the exiles, of the house|F|to which they had repaired, and of those who were acting with them. Archias was by this time drenched with wine, and excited about the expected arrival of the ladies; he took the letter, but when the bearer said that it was addressed to him about certainurgent business: “Then urgent business to-morrow!” he said, and thrust the letter under his head cushion; then he asked for a cup, kept calling for wine, the whole time ordering Phyllidas to go out to the door and see whether the women were near.
XXXI. As they had beguiled their drinking with this hope, we joined the company, and pushing our way through the servants to the banqueting hall stood a short time at the door looking|597|at each of the party. Our crowns and dress and make-up, while apologizing for our presence, caused a silence: but as soon as Melon rushed first up the hall, his hand upon his sword-hilt, Cabirichus, the appointed president, plucked him by the arm as he passed, and shouted out, ‘Phyllidas, is not this Melon?’ Melon shook off his grasp, drawing his sword as he did so, then, rushing upon Archias as with difficulty he found his feet, struck and struck till he had killed him. Philippus received a neck wound from Charon; he tried to defend himself with the drinking-cups|B|which were near his hand, but Lysitheus threw him off the couch to the ground and slew him. We tried to pacify Cabirichus, imploring him not to assist the tyrants, but to join in our country’s deliverance, remembering that he was a holy person and consecrated to the Gods for her sake. As, however, from the wine he had taken, it was not easy to carry his thoughts to the proper course, while he stood excited and confused, and kept presenting the point of his spear (customarily worn by our magistrates at all times), I myself seized it at the middle and swung it over his head, crying to him to let go and save himself, or he would be wounded. But Theopompus, standing near him|C|on the right, struck him with his sword, and said: ‘Lie there with those whom thou hast been flattering; never mayest thou wear a crown in a free Thebes, nor sacrifice any longer to the Gods, in whose names thou hast often called down curses on our country, and prayers for her enemies!’ When Cabirichus wasdown, Theocritus, who was with us, snatched the sacred spear out of the wound; and we slew a few of the servants who ventured on resistance, while we shut up in the hall those who behaved quietly, not wishing them to slip away and spread news of what had happened, before we knew whether things had gone|D|well with our comrades also.
XXXII. Their history was this. Pelopidas and his party quietly approached the courtyard door of Leontides, and told the servant who answered their knock that they had come from Athens with letters for Leontides from Callistratus. When he had given the message and received orders to open, and had removed the bar and set the door a little ajar, they burst in in a body, upset the man, and charged on through the court to the bedroom of Leontides. His suspicions carrying him at once to the truth he drew his dagger and rushed to defend himself; an unjust and tyrannical man he was, but of sturdy courage and a|E|powerful fighter. However, he did not make up his mind to throw down the torch and close with the attacking party in the dark; but in the light, and in their full view, as soon as they began to open the door, he smote Cephisodorus on the groin, and closed with Pelopidas next, shouting loudly all the time to call the attendants. These were held in check by Samidas’ party, not venturing to come to blows with some of the best known and bravest men in Thebes. Pelopidas and Leontides had to fight it|F|out; it was a sword duel in the doorway of the chamber, a narrow one, in the middle of which lay Cephisodorus, fallen and dying, so that the others could not come in to the rescue. At last our man, having received a slight wound in the head and having given many, and thrown Leontides down, ran him through over the still warm body of Cephisodorus. The latter saw the enemy falling, and placed his hand in that of Pelopidas, saluted the others, and cheerfully breathed his last. Leaving them, they turned against Hypates, and the door having beenopened to them there, in the same way, they cut him down while trying to escape over a roof to the neighbours.
|598|XXXIII. Thence they hastened towards us, joining us outside, near the Polystyle. After mutual greetings and talk, we proceeded to the prison. Phyllidas called the head jailer out and said: ‘Archias and Philippus order you to bring Amphitheus to them at once.’ He, remarking the strangeness of the hour, and that Phyllidas did not seem composed as he spoke to him, but hot from the struggle and excited, saw through our artifice: ‘When did the Polemarchs send for a prisoner at such an hour,|B|Phyllidas,’ he asked, ‘and when by you? What password do you bring?’ As he was speaking, Phyllidas, who carried a cavalry lance, drove it through his ribs and brought the scoundrel to the ground, where he was trampled and spat upon the next day by a number of women. We burst open the doors of the prison, and called on the prisoners by name; first Amphitheus, then our acquaintances among the others. As they recognized the voices they leapt up from their pallet beds, dragging their chains, while those whose feet were fast in the stocks stretched out their hands, shouting and imploring us not to leave them behind. As these were being released, many of those who lived near came up, perceiving|C|what was going on and delighting in it. The women, as soon as each heard about her own relation, dropped Boeotian habits, and ran out to one another, asking questions from the men who met them. Those who found their own fathers or husbands followed, and no one tried to hinder them, for all who met them were deeply affected by pity for the men, and by the tears and prayers of modest women.
XXXIV. While things were thus, learning that Epaminondas|D|and Gorgidas were already forgathering with our friends near the temple of Athena, I took my way to join them. Many loyal citizens had already arrived, and more kept pouring in. When I had told them in detail the story of what had happened, andwhile I was imploring them to rally to the market-place, all agreed to summon the citizens at once ‘For Liberty!’ The crowds now forming up found arms to their hand in the warehouses full of spoils from all lands and in the factories of the swordmakers living near. Hippostheneidas had also arrived with friends and servants, bringing the trumpeters, who had, as it happened, been quartered in the town for the feast of Hercules. All at once they began to sound calls, some in the market-place,|E|others elsewhere, from every direction, to cause a panic among the other side, and make them think that the rising was general. Some lighted smoky fires[49]and so escaped to the Cadmeia, drawing with them also the aristocrats, so called, who were accustomed to pass the night on the low ground near the fortress. Those who were above, seeing this disorderly and confused stream of incomers, and ourselves about the market-place, no quiet anywhere, but indistinct noise and bustle rising up to them from all quarters, never made up their minds to come down, though there were some five thousand of them. They|F|thoroughly lost their heads in the danger, and Lysanoridas was a mere excuse: they professed to wait for his return, which was due that day. In consequence, he was afterwards sentenced to a heavy fine by the Lacedaemonian senate. Herippidas and Arcesus were arrested at Corinth later on and put to death. The Cadmeia was evacuated by them and surrendered to us under treaty, and the garrison withdrawn.