The Rise of Rome (Penguin Classics)

  The Latin for to bind was once ligare, but it is now alligare. Consequently, the attendants who carry these staffs are called lictores,142 and the staffs themselves are called bacila,143 because in those days the Romans used rods.144 At the same time, there is another plausible explanation: the c in the word lictores, as they are now called, could be an addition, and originally these attendants were called litores, which is the same as leitourgoi, the Greek word for public servants. In fact the Greeks still call a public building a leïton, and refer to the public with the word laos.145

  27. When Romulus’ grandfather, Numitor, died in Alba Longa, the royal succession fell to him. However, in order to win over its people, he put the city’s government in their hands and appointed a chief magistrate whose term of office would last only one year. In so doing, he taught the leading men of Rome to desire for themselves a state that could also govern itself without a king, one in which they would be subjects and rulers in their turn. For by this point not even the so-called patricians played a part in public affairs. Instead, they merely enjoyed a prestigious title and dignified dress, and it was simply owing to custom – and not in order to give advice – that they attended the senate. There they listened in silence to the king’s commands, and, when they had departed, their sole advantage over the common people lay in having learned of his decrees before they did. The senate suffered numerous affronts, but each of them seemed minor next to this one. Romulus distributed the lands that Rome had taken by conquest and restored to Veii the hostages this city had handed over to Rome – all on his own authority and without any consent or approval by the senate. This was deemed an outrageous insult, which is why, when Romulus unaccountably disappeared a short time afterwards, a cloud of suspicion and calumny hung over the patricians.146 He vanished on the Nones of July,147 as the month is now called, or Quintilis, as it was called then.148 Nothing about the matter is certain, nor is there any widely accepted tradition concerning the circumstances of his death apart from its date, which I have just reported. For even now that day is marked by many ceremonies that recall what took place then.149

  This uncertainty need occasion no surprise. After all, although Scipio Africanus150 died after dinner in his own home, the manner of his death remains unexplained to everyone’s satisfaction. Some say he died a natural death, the fault of his unhealthy constitution, others that he poisoned himself. Still others claim that he was stifled by his enemies, who broke into his house during the night. Furthermore, the body of Scipio was exposed to public view, which allowed everyone who inspected it to form his own suspicions and draw his own conclusions as to what had happened. By contrast, Romulus vanished suddenly, nor did a single part of his body or clothing remain to be seen. Some have conjectured that the senators fell upon him in the temple of Vulcan151 and, after they had killed him, cut his body into pieces small enough for each of them to conceal a part in the folds of his toga and thus carry it away. Others, however, do not believe that he disappeared in the temple of Vulcan or that only the senators were present at the time. Instead, they maintain, Romulus was conducting a public assembly outside the city near the so-called Goat’s Marsh152 when suddenly the air was filled with bewildering and inexplicable phenomena and unfathomable transformations. The light of the sun was eclipsed, and the day was turned into night, not a gentle or quiet night, moreover, but one disturbed by terrible thundering and furious gales driving rain in all directions. At this, the multitude dispersed and fled, but the leading men drew close to one another. When the storm had ceased and the sun again shone, the multitude returned to this same place. Noticing his absence, they began to look for their king, but the senators refused to allow them to seek their king or even to concern themselves with his disappearance. They urged them to honour Romulus and to venerate him, for he had been taken up to join the gods and now, instead of being their king, had become a propitious divinity. Most of the people believed these things and so went away with joy and gladness to offer him worship. There were some, however, who rejected this claim and in a bitter and hostile temper provoked the patricians by accusing them of having beguiled the public with a silly story while in reality they had murdered their king.

  28. At this very moment, one of the patricians, Julius Proculus, a man of excellent birth who was highly esteemed for his character, a close and trusted friend of Romulus and a man who had joined him when first he left Alba Longa to found Rome, entered the forum.153 In the presence of all the people he placed his hand on the city’s most sacred objects and swore a solemn oath that, as he was making his way along the road, he had seen Romulus coming to meet him. He appeared grand and handsome, more so than ever he had done before, and he wore armour as brilliant as fire. Proculus confessed that he was astonished by the sight and asked: ‘Why, my king, and for what purpose have you forsaken us, so that we patricians are objects of unjust and wicked accusations while the entire city is bereft and plunged into deep sorrow?’ To this Romulus replied: ‘It was the will of the gods, Proculus, that I should be among mortals for only a fixed time, for I came to you from the gods and I have founded a city that is destined to be the greatest of all in its power and glory. Now I must again dwell in heaven. Farewell, and tell the Romans that if they cultivate self-restraint together with valour they will not fail to attain the utmost degree of human power.154 As for me, I shall hereafter be the god Quirinus,155 and I shall favour you always.’ This report seemed credible to the Romans owing to the character of the man who gave it and to the nature of the oath he had sworn. But these were not the only reasons they believed Proculus. They were touched by some kind of divine influence, not unlike holy inspiration, for not a single man contradicted him. Instead, everyone cast aside his suspicions and detractions alike and, offering up prayers to Quirinus, invoked him as a god.

  Now this account is like the myths told by the Greeks about Aristaeus156 of Proconnesus and Cleomedes157 of Astypaleia. For they say that Aristaeus died in a fuller’s workshop but when his friends came to collect his body it had vanished. Soon afterwards, however, certain men, returning from abroad, reported that they had met Aristaeus as he was making his way towards Croton. As for Cleomedes, he was a man of enormous size and strength, but his disposition was impulsive and even wild, and as a consequence he committed many acts of violence. At last, in a schoolhouse, he struck with his fist a pillar that supported its roof. The pillar was broken and the building fell in, killing the children within. Cleomedes was then pursued, but he took refuge in a chest, the lid of which he shut and held so fast that even a large number of men was unable to force it open. So they broke the chest into pieces, but, when they did so, could not find the man, alive or dead. Bewildered by this, they sent a delegation to consult the oracle at Delphi,158 where the Pythian priestess gave them this response: ‘Last of the heroes is Cleomedes the Astypalaean.’ There is also the story that the body of Alcmene159 vanished as it was being carried forth for burial and a stone was found in its place on the bier. To put it simply, many myths of this kind are recorded by writers who seek to ascribe divinity not only to the gods but also to that which is mortal by its nature. Admittedly, there is something impious and base about rejecting the divine essence of human virtue. At the same time, it is silly to unite earth with heaven. If one wishes for certainty in this matter, then let him agree with Pindar that

  The body of every man yields to an incontestable death,

  But yet there remains still living an image of his life,

  For this alone is from the gods.160

  Indeed, this comes from the gods and returns to them – not, however, together with its physical body but only when it is entirely released and separated from its body and has become completely purified, incorporeal and undefiled. For ‘a dry soul is best’,161 as Heracleitus puts it, which flies from the body like a flash of lightning from a cloud, whereas a soul which is suffused throughout a physical body, and is thus defiled by its physical body, remains difficult to release and slow to ascend, like a thick
and cloudy vapour.

  29. The name Quirinus, which was given to Romulus, is explained by some as meaning Enyalius.162 Others think its meaning is citizen on the grounds that the Romans called their citizens Quirites. Still others, however, observe how the ancients called the tip of a spear, or a spear itself, by the word curis,163 and described the statue of Juno leaning on a spear as Juno Curitis.164 Furthermore, they note, there is a spear in the Regia that is consecrated to Mars,165 and it was a Roman practice to honour men who distinguished themselves in warfare with a spear as their prize. Consequently, they maintain that Romulus was called Quirinus because he was a martial god, or a god armed with a spear. His temple was built on the hill that, on account of his name, is called Quirinalis,166 and the day on which he vanished is known as the Flight of the People167 and the Capratine Nones,168 because they make sacrifice outside the city at the Goat’s Marsh and capra is the Latin word for she-goat. On this occasion, as the Romans leave the city for the sacrifice, they cry out many of their native names, like Marcus, Lucius or Gaius, imitating thereby the manner in which they called to one another in fear and perturbation at the time of Romulus’ disappearance.

  According to other authorities, however, this practice does not imitate the people’s flight at that time but instead, they explain, originates in their haste and hurry on a different occasion. After the Celts who had captured Rome169 had been expelled from the city by Camillus, while Rome was still too weak to arrive at a full recovery from its destruction, a large force of Latins, under the command of Livius Postumius, marched against the city. The general set up his camp near Rome and sent a herald who announced that the Latins wished to revive their ancient, but now obsolete, affinity with the Romans by contracting new marriage ties between the two peoples; if the Romans should send them a large number of virgins and widows, they would enjoy peace and friendship with the Latins on terms similar to the ones that had existed in the past between Romans and Sabines. When the Romans heard this, although they were afraid to fight, they nevertheless felt that handing over their women in this way would render them little better off than captives seized in war. Thus the Romans were at a loss as to how to proceed, when a servant girl named Philotis,170 or, in some versions, Tutula, advised them not to choose either of these actions but by resorting to a ruse avoid both war and surrendering hostages. And this was the ruse. They should hand Philotis herself over to the enemy, along with other servant girls who were beautiful and dressed like freeborn women. Then, during the night, Philotis would raise up a torch as a signal for the Romans to come forth in arms and deal with their enemies while they lay asleep. This is exactly what was done and the Latins were deceived, and, from a certain wild fig tree, Philotis held up a torch, which she hid from behind with curtains and draperies, so that its light could not be seen by the enemy but was distinctly visible to the Romans. As soon as the Romans saw it, they rushed through the gates in a great hurry and, because of their haste, called out to one another again and again. They fell upon their enemies unexpectedly and defeated them, a victory commemorated in this festival. The day on which it is celebrated is called the Capratine Nones because the Latin word for a wild fig tree is caprificus, and on this day the women of Rome are honoured with a feast outside the city during which they are shaded by the branches of a fig tree. The maidservants gather together and run about playfully, after which they strike and throw stones at one another, recalling how on that day they aided the Romans and joined with them in battle.

  Many historians agree on this account of the origin of this festival. Still, the practice of calling out to one another by name when it is daylight and of walking out to the Goat’s Marsh in order to make sacrifice seems to favour a commemoration of Romulus’ disappearance, unless of course both events took place on the same day although in different periods of time.171 Romulus is said to have been fifty-four years old, and in the thirty-eighth year of his reign, when he vanished from the sight of mortals.

  Comparison of Theseus and Romulus

  1 (30). These, then, are the memorable facts that I have been able to learn about Romulus and Theseus. The first point to be made, and it is an obvious one, is that Theseus, although he was heir to a splendid kingdom at Troezen,1 where he could have reigned as king in complete serenity, nevertheless took it upon himself, in the absence of any compulsion, to strive for even greater things. Romulus, by contrast, in order to escape his condition as a slave and evade the baleful prospect of punishment, became, to put it neatly, ‘brave on account of his fear’,2 to employ Plato’s phrase, and, because he was frightened of suffering the worst of penalties, was driven to do great deeds. The second point is this: Romulus’ greatest exploit came when he cut down a single tyrant in Alba,3 whereas, in the case of Theseus, when he slew Sciron, Sinis, Procrustes and Corynetes,4 these actions were little more than sidelines and a prelude to his real career; indeed, he freed Greece from these terrible tyrants before he was even known to those whom his adventures had liberated. Theseus, to press the point, could have made his way to Athens by sea,5 safely and unmolested by brigands such as these, while in the case of Romulus, so long as Amulius lived, he could not avoid danger. Of this assertion there is a compelling proof. Theseus attacked these wicked men on behalf of others, when he had not himself been wronged by any of them, whereas Romulus and Remus, so long as they were unharmed by the tyrant, left him free to abuse others.

  And if it was a great thing for Romulus to be wounded when fighting against the Sabines, and to slay Acron, and to conquer many enemies in battle, one can set these deeds alongside Theseus’ clash with the Centaurs and his campaign against the Amazons.6 However, if one considers Theseus’ daring in regard to the Cretan tribute, when he voluntarily sailed off with the virgins and young boys, whether it was to become food for some monster or a sacrifice on the tomb of Androgeus or to suffer what of all versions of this story involved the least dangerous fate for him, namely, vile and degrading slavery at the hands of insolent and cruel masters,7 in each case words fail to express his boldness, his high-mindedness or his sense of universal justice – or his desire for glory and virtue. This is why I am convinced that philosophers have done well in defining love as ‘a labour of the gods in the care and salvation of the young’.8 For it looks as if Ariadne’s love was, more than anything else, the work of a god and a means to this hero’s salvation. And it would be wrong to fault her for falling in love with Theseus; on the contrary, we must be astonished that he was not held in the same affection by all men and all women. And if it was she alone who felt such a passion for him, then, in my view, she was indeed worthy of a god’s love, for she was a lover of nobility and of goodness and of the finest qualities.9

  2 (31). Theseus and Romulus were each of them natural statesmen, but neither succeeded in maintaining himself as a true monarch and instead each made constitutional alterations, Theseus by inclining towards democracy, Romulus towards tyranny. In this way, each leader, though influenced by different dispositions, committed the same error, for the first duty of a ruler is to preserve the very constitution by which he governs, and this is accomplished as much by avoiding unseemly practices as it is by embracing attractive ones. If, however, he too greatly surrenders or extends his authority, then he is no longer a king or a ruler but becomes instead either a demagogue or a despot and inspires hatred or contempt in his subjects. Still, the one error seems to arise from a sense of fairness and humane sensibilities, whereas the other is the result of self-centred arrogance and harshness.

  3 (32). If we can agree that men’s misfortunes are not always attributable to the agency of the gods but in fact are sometimes best explained on the basis of their differing characters and emotions, then it is impossible to pardon Romulus for his treatment of his brother or Theseus for his actions against his son,10 for each of them was guilty of irrational anger and precipitate and uncontrollable rage. However, if we consider the circumstances of each one’s anger, we are likely to be more understanding of the man who wa
s overcome by the more grievous provocation, as if he had been struck a heavier blow. Now Romulus was involved in deliberation and in making plans for the welfare of the state when he quarrelled with his brother, and it is unimaginable that, under those conditions, anyone could suddenly become so furious. By contrast, Theseus was induced to wrong his son by influences that hardly any man could escape: love, jealousy and a woman’s lies. More importantly, Romulus’ wrath realized itself in an action and a deed the outcome of which was truly terrible, whereas Theseus’ fury remained confined to words – insults and an old man’s curse – for what befell his son afterwards seems to owe itself to misfortune. For all these reasons, then, one could give one’s vote of preference to Theseus.

  4 (33). Turning to Romulus, however, the first point in his favour is the fact that, despite his base origins, he elevated himself to a position of great power. He and his brother are said to have been slaves and the sons of a swineherd, and yet not only did they gain their own freedom, they also liberated nearly all the Latin people, acquiring in a single moment the most honorific of titles: slayers of their enemies, saviours of their family and friends, kings of nations and founders of cities. They were not simply consolidators of existing communities, as was Theseus. He joined numerous peoples into one, but in so doing eliminated many cities that bore the names of ancient kings and heroes.11 Admittedly, Romulus did these things too, but at a later time, when he forced his enemies to demolish and abandon their homes and become citizens in the same city as their conqueror. In the beginning, however, Romulus neither resettled nor enlarged an existing city but instead created a new one from nothing, acquiring along with this territory a homeland, a kingdom, families, wives and alliances. In the founding of his city, he neither subjugated nor killed anyone. On the contrary, he was a benefactor to men lacking home or hearth and longing to become citizens in a recognized community. He did not slay brigands and criminals,12 but he annexed to Rome the nations he conquered in warfare, he subdued cities and he triumphed over kings and generals.