A SCHOOL FOR PRINCES.  
OR, Political Reflections upon three Conspiracies preceding the Death of Alexander the Great.  
Translated out of French by A. O.  
TF   printers device 
●ONDON, Printed for Thomas Fabian, at the Bible in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1680.   

Preface.  
A Preface being no more than a Door giving entrance to a Tractate, I shall here only just follow that Notion, and briefly present to view the Subject of the ensuing Treatise.  
Three Conspiracies preceding the Death of Alexander the Great, are here at large represented; with Political Reflections upon every remarkable Occurrence.  
The chief of the first Conspiracy, is Philotas, a Favourite of his Prince, and General of the Cavalry; his Ambition gives Birth to his Disloyalty; and Dymnus (a Confederate) his Affection towards Nicomachus (a Youth of his Acquaintance) discovers him.  
The Author of the second Conspiracy is Hermolaus, a Youth, one of the King's Pages: The Occasion, His receiving Blows for killing a Wild Boar the King was going to encounter with his Spear: His Design ready to take effect, is strangely prevented by the intervening of a Woman, inspired with a Prophetic Spirit, and totally disclosed by Epimenes (one of his Associates) either out of Fear towards their Gods, or purely for Avarice.  
The third and last Conspiracy is promoted by Antipater, for being at the instances of Olympias (the King's Mother) removed from his Government of Macedonia.  
None are engaged in this Conspiracy but Antipater and his three Sons, Cassander, Jollas, and Philip: And Jollas, Alexander' s chief Cupbearer, taking the opportunity of a Feast at Babylon, poisons Hercules his Cup; of which Alexander drinks, and in a miserable manner breathes out the remaining minutes of his Life.  
A. O.   

A SCHOOL FOR PRINCES.  
HE that writes the Life and Death of Princes, may be likened to a Painter that has drawn a Picture sideways, representing two several things, according as it is viewed on either side. The Life of great Ones considered on the one side by Philosophers, appears to them full of Troubles, and a Happiness not to be desired. On the other side, Politicians admire in it Sovereign Power, and laughing at those false Sages that never knew the worth of it; reverence in a Monarch the inestimable Act of ruling Men. So likewise at the death of a Prince, the Cynique exagerates the vanity of great Ones; but the true Sage contemplates their End as the Limits of Glory, and the birth of a new Grandeur.  
'Tis not my design to write the Lives of Princes; we read in divers Authors, both Ancient and Modern, all that the most expert can imagine upon the Art of Governing. I shall only tie myself to the consideration of divers Events commonly preceding, accompanying, or following their Death. History is like a Theatre, on which is represented the inconstancy of Fortune, there shall we find Subject's Parricides of their Sovereigns, and Sovereigns precipitating themselves from a Throne, to an Abyss of Misery. Sometimes there's more Bloodshed at the death of Kings than Tears; their Funerals are disturbed by the noise of Trumpets, and the clashing of glittering Arms, dissipates in a moment the cloudy preparations of a Funeral-pomp; so that the memory of him, whom but a little before, environed with Glory and Majesty, every one adored, becomes then an abomination.  
It may not therefore be unseasonable to draw this two-sided Portraiture; Policy and Morality shall work together; the latter, austere and rough, shall cover the Heavens with Clouds, and dart down Thunderbolts on the Heads of Princes; the former, more clear and dextrous, shall avert the Storm, and show them a Sanctuary: So that when one shall frighten a Prince with an imminent Danger, the other shall presently give him the Hand; and it shall be easy for him to avoid the Danger, if he make but good use of Political Precepts.  
All that we can imagine most exquisite in Policy, the subtlest Discourses upon the Art of Governing, the acutest Precepts, cannot make an Impression strong enough upon the Spirit; an example of what is past, prevails upon it farther than the fear of what's to come; Experience persuades with greater ease than meditation; and we are more inclined to imitate great Actions that have been already executed, than to be the first Enterprisers of them; the Event is not at all feared, where others have been prosperous; but where they have been successless, there the Sage avoids falling into the same misfortune.  
'Tis for this Reason I have chosen for the Subject of my Work the History of a Prince, whom Fortune, Merit, and Reputation, have advanced above all others, and whose Actions ought to be of more Authority: Never was there Prince more happy all his Life, nor more constantly favoured by Fortune; but after he had finished his course, he might be reckoned the unhappiest of all Princes, if there be after Death any sentiment of earthly things.  
I speak of Alexander the Great. King's ought to imitate his Virtues, which none more eminently possessed; and at the same time abominate the Vices he plunged himself into, without any respect to his Rank, or consideration for the esteem of Men. The Discreet will admire his judicious and clear Conduct, and cannot but be transported at the irregularity of his Manners. Never was there any had a better Birth, greater Grandeur, or truer Merit; nor was there ever any with such notorious Vices so contrary to such a Merit, Birth and Grandeur. Was there ever seen a Prince more glorious, more admired by Strangers; or more often outraged by his Friends, in whom he most confided. When Fortune made him Master of the Universe, hardly could he secure himself from Domestic Treasons; 'tis true, he ran headlong to his own ruin, and I find not in any History, an example of such Heroic Virtue, and such a prostitution to all sorts of Vices. If then the remembrance of a Recompense is capable to engage the Spirit of a Man to perform Actions full of Virtue and Glory; and if a sight of the Miseries that accompany Vice can frighten and deter, without doubt there's no History more clear than this, to direct Princes in their Conduct.  
Alexander's Death was preceded by three Conspiracies, accompanied with a jealousy for Superiority among his Captains, and followed with the ruin of that great Empire. The different Events that compose this History, the general Desolation of several Kingdoms, the malignity of Fortune, and the unexpected dismal Accidents, will furnish Princes with most necessary Precepts, both Moral and Politic; and though it may seem that all things are absolutely subject to the Order of Fate, yet 'tis very much for a Monarch's Glory when the Revolution of his States cannot be imputed unto him, but only to that fatal and inevitable necessity that the prudence of Man cannot alter. As for the rest, though the Macedonians, and all those other Nations conquered by Alexander, had Laws and Customs quite different from ours, they excelled in the Art of Government. Policy is from all Ages.  
I come therefore now to examine, in this Conqueror's Conduct, all that's most remarkable, that Princes may form themselves according to so excellent a Model. The Actions of Alexander, and the Intrigues of the Conspirators, will teach them to defend themselves from Domestic Treasons, and to elevate themselves by Justice, Clemency, and Liberality, as much above the Vulgar, as they exceed them in Grandeur, and the advantages of Birth. I will begin with the Conspiracy of Philotas, so much the more , for conspiring the Death of his Master, and his King, as he was indebted to him for his Fortune.  

THE CONSPIRACY OF PHILOTAS.  
ALexander was arrived to the highest pitch of Grandeur; Darius was dead, and his Army vanquished; Asia had changed her Master, who seeing himself in the Persian Throne, and finding nothing more on Earth to satisfy his Ambition, would have had his Subjects given him Divine Worship. The lustre of too great Majesty, is so far from attracting Respect and Fear, that it excites great Ones to Envy, and makes them aspire to wear the Diadem; and whosoever equals himself to the Gods, is unworthy to live among Men. And hence it came that Philotas, one in Alexander's Army, that could not support his Pride, endeavoured to dispatch him.  
Of all Vices, Ambition is the most dangerous, because it bears a resemblance of Virtue; it has apparently the same end; the desire of Glory is inseparable to them both; and of this Philotas was as greedy as Alexander. Virtue and Ambition have their original from the same Source, from grandeur of Courage, from a noble, bold, and undertaking Spirit; the difference I find between them is this, Justice limits bounds to Virtue; Ambition knows none, has no Faith, no Friendship, no Honesty: it dares all things; neither the fear of Danger, nor the power of Justice can detain it: it generates those criminal thoughts that strike at Royalty, the hatred, jealousy, and revenge of great Ones.  
Three sorts of Persons commonly conspire the Death of Princes. Certain melancholy People, who at any price whatsoever, though it be at the expense of their Lives, enterprise extraordinary Actions to eternise their Memory to Posterity, not much caring whether it be honourable, or held in abomination; such was he that burned the Temple of Diana; the Jacobin that killed Henry III, and many others. Some transported with an abominable desire of Revenge, care not to survive an Injury received, as he that stabbed Henry IU. And almost all great Ones, in the Revolution of a State, hope for some change of Fortune.  
For this last reason the common People are to be feared, when a Government is changed from a Democracy to a Monarchy; the Nobility, when it has been an Aristocracy; the Princes of the Blood, if a Kingdom be Hereditary; the Ministers and Favourites, if Elective.  
The Kingdom of Macedonia descended for several Ages from Father to Son; and whilst there were Successors, no one dared enterprise any thing against his King's Life. Alexander laboured to secure himself immortality by Actions of an Heroic Courage, by the grandeur of his Erterprises; he was inflamed with a desire of Glory, little minding the preservation of his Life, and less the leaving a Successor to his Empire. He preferred Bagoas before Barsine; Roxane known to be great with Child at his Death, could not keep the Macedonian Captains from dividing among themselves, those vast and lovely Provinces, into as many Kingdoms. The Sceptre of Alexander therefore being to fall into strange Hands, his Nobles pretended to his Crown: which there was no appearance of their arriving to, the King being young and vigorous; therefore they were to hasten their Expectations by the means of Ingratitude, of Treachery, of a Crime horrid and detestable. Nothing retains Ambition, but the fear of a lawful Successor, in which consists the security of a Prince; for there's none will form any Design contrary to his Faith and Duty, unless he be supported by more than ordinary hopes. Alexander's Death would have made almost as many Kings as were Macedonian Captains; what wonder then if he were continually exposed to the murmuring of his Soldiers, to the Infidelity of his Friends, to Domestic Treacheries?  
I am much mistaken if it were not this that first gave Philotas' thoughts of advancing himself to Royalty: Parmenios' Valour, Merit, and Esteem, who commanded a puissant Army in Media, confirmed him in his Design, and his own Grandeur finished his Resolve.  
'Tis dangerous to suffer any to approach too near to that whose Possession can make them happy; that Husband may blame himself, that shows his Wife to another, who after falls in love with her. Royalty has greater Charms; 'tis like a polished Glass, dulled with the least Breath of those are near it; or like the Fountain of Narcissus, the transcendent Beauty appearing in it is so charming, that there's none can see it, and live without the enjoyment. A Prince that gives too great preferment to a Favourite, a Minister, or a great Captain, nourishes a Rival, a cruel Enemy, a Competitor for his Empire; that has but one step to mount into his Throne. We read in the Histories of all Ages, of several King's Favourites, of an obscure Birth, incapable of great Matters, who coming into an entire possession of their Master's Favours, oftentimes, by ways shameful and wicked, have dared to aspire to their Crowns. What may we not then expect from a great Captain, Generous, Liberal, Ambitious, of an illustrious Birth, Head of a powerful Army, beloved of the Soldiers, and the common People?  
I own it pleasant for a Monarch to discharge himself of the weighty Burden of State-Affairs, on the capacity of some Minister; to repose himself from the Glory of his Armies, upon the valour of a great Captain; to intrust his most secret Thoughts with the Wisdom and Discretion of a Favourite: But this Favourite, this Minister, this Captain should be only Executors, and not Masters of their Prince's Will; and this Prince should as far exceed them in discerning Merit, in understanding of Affairs, in judicious Foresight, in eminency of Capacity, as in Power and Grandeur. Such exquisite Parts are to be feared in a Favourite, his Fidelity is shaken by so great Advantages, and we have seen in this Age a King, formidable to his Enemies, implore the Assistance of another King against his Favourite. If a Prince must needs spend his Generosity, if he must needs heap up Favours upon his Subjects, let him take heed not to bestow them all in one Place, or on several Persons united in Friendship or Blood, who may have the same Desires, the same Will.  
Be a Minister never so powerful, if he have but one Employ, one Charge in an Empire, he can have no more Creatures than his Authority reaches: Should he meditate any Design destructive to the State, he would meet with a thousand Obstacles. A General of an Army, who is neither Master of the Treasury, nor has Intelligence with a Superintendent, is not at all to be feared: He that commands the Land-Forces is opposed to the Admiral, the Affection of the People to the Soldiers Rebellion; but if a Minister be General of an Army, Superintendent of the Treasury, Admiral; or if these Charges are at his disposal, what is there that he cannot do? if faithful, he is formidable; if unfaithful, he is King.  
Parmenio and Philotas were Masters of the Empire, one General of the Cavalry, the other of a whole Army; the former Governor of several Provinces, Superintendent of the Treasury, having in all Battles the command of one Wing; the latter awing the great Ones, a Favourite, and Arbiter of his Prince's Life. The immense Riches of Philotas, the great number of Creatures of all sorts and conditions inseparably linked to his Fortune; his Authority in the Armies almost equalling the King's, might well induce him young as he was, cruel, full of delicacy and pride, to conspire the death of Alexander, the only Let to him in his way to the highest pitch of Grandeur. Add to these the Love of a Woman, the true cause of his destruction.  
Antigone, of a noble Birth; an excellent Beauty; a sweet Nature; a lively, pleasant, charming Spirit; was one of those illustrious Prisoners that the Governor of Damascus delivered to Permenio, with all the Treasures Darius had committed to his disloyal custody. This fair Slave made herself Mistress of Philotas his Liberty; he forgot that he had all power over her, and shamefully submitted himself to her Laws. That pride, that contempt, that made him but a little before despise Darius his Nobles, the chiefest of the Macedonians, and equal himself to his King, changed itself immediately into submissions to his own Captive; he became fearful, (as are the greatest part of Lovers) and thought himself unworthy of her, because he was not Alexander.  
The violence of his Passion, rouzes in his Heart a vehement desire of making himself King: impatient of enjoying Antigone, he despairs of possessing her, unless he share the Empire with her. At the Wars, egged on with great Love and Courage, he exposes himself to dangers more than ordinary; he is liberal to prodigality, gentle, affable, gains the Hearts of his Soldiers,  himself like them, accommodates himself to their Manners, protects them, is beloved, and reigns already over the whole Army. But so many good Qualities were produced by Love, which being blind, can never guide Lovers in their Conduct; and in his, Reason and Prudence had no share.  
At Table, in his Bed, in the midst of good Cheer and Embracements, he gins to celebrate his Actions. Alexander could not recompense them with a Kingdom large enough, for his Ambition. Philotas' looks on him no longer as his Benefactor; accuses him of Injustice; speaks insolently of him; debases this great Monarch; ascribes all his Conquests to Parmenio; let's scape some injurious Language: the most clearsighted penetrate into his Designs, and suspect his Loyalty.  
Perhaps he might think that he discharged his Heart into the Bosom of a Woman amorous and discreet. A strange thing; that so many Examples of Infidelity cannot make Lovers suspicious of the usual Inconstancy of their Mistresses. Fickle Antigone ceases to love Philotas, and betrays him. She must destroy him to preserve her new Lover; She thinks it her securest way to acquaint Alexander with the imminent danger threatening him. Craterus, whom the King honoured particularly with his Favour, jealous of Philotas his Glory, and an Enemy to his Grandeur, seeks occasion to ruin him: which Antigone proffers him, and tells him all that miserable Wretch had discovered to her of his Mind, during the most tender moments of their privacy.  
As it is impossible that the Dust cast into the Wind should not be scattered, so it is very difficult for a Secret entrusted with a Woman, young, handsome, and amorous, not to be divulged. She longs to know that that's kept from her, and when she knows it, desires as much to publish it. She is ardent in her Pursuit, treacherous after Enjoyment, cruel in her new Love. No kindness can retain her, the remembrance of a Man she has loved tenderly, and amorously embraced, affects her not, like the Earth that darkens the Sun, from whence it receives its warmth. But if there be any thing firm in the tenderness of her Sentiments, happy is the Man that has her, she is an inexhaustible Source of Pleasures.  
Craterus glad to destroy his Enemy, by preserving the Life of his King, runs to Alexander, and gives him an account of what he had heard. Antigone is called, and is not ashamed to publish her own Infamy, and the secret of a Man that so entirely loved her. The King nevertheless dissembles, whether it were that the consideration of Parmenio's great Services, his unbyass'd Friendship, his incorrupted Loyalty, inclined him to Clemency; or whether it were that he thought Philotas innocent, or feared too lightly to condemn, upon the bare testimony of a slave, the fidelity of an ancient Servant, most passionate for his Glory, one of his chief Captains and Confidents, adored by the Soldiers for his Liberality and Magnificence. But Fortune, that took a particular care of Alexander, and prepared for him new Conquests, discovered the whole Intreigue of a most horrid Plot. Dymnus, one in no great Authority at Court, but of a stout Heart, and great Spirit, was one of those that had conspired the King's Death; he was so in love with a young Youth called Nicomachus, that he could not but intrust him with a Secret, upon which depended his own safety; and that of so many Persons of Quality who were concerned in the Enterprise. He declares it to him, and endeavours to persuade him to make one, as well from the consideration of their Friendship, as from that of his future Grandeur after the Attempt. He Weeps, Caresses, Threatens, Urges, and sometimes promising him a Kingdom; sometimes setting the Image of Death before his Eyes, if he refuse to hold with them; Wouldst thou have (says he) my dear Nichomachus, a greater Testimony of my Affection? I trust my Life to thy Faith, and I call thee to be a sharer in the Empire of all Asia.  
This young Youth bearing a great love towards his King, was seized with horror at a Crime so full of cruelty; he protests he'll never be wanting to his Duty, to the Loyalty he owes his Master; that all he can do for his Friend, is not to ruin him, if he'll repent of so great a wickedness.  
Dymnus stood wavering between Love and Fear; at length setting his Sword at his Friend's Breast, calling him sometimes Coward, sometimes Traitor, he was going to begin with him the execution of his Design, but that the young Man in a fright promised more than he was asked. He feigned therefore a resolution to execute the Enterprise, and desired to know the number and quality of the Conspirators. Dymnus, full of joy that he had gained him, names Peucolaus, Nicanor, Aphaebetus, Loceus, Demetrius, Dioxenus, Archepolis and Amyntas. 'Tis certain he made no mention of Philotas, who, I am ready to think, according to the custom of great Ones, lay expecting the issue of the Conspiracy, and left others to carry it on, that if it were discovered, he might cast the whole Design on them.  
Nicomachus transported with joy, that it lay in his power to show his King a proof of his Fidelity, runs to his Brother Ceballinus, and acquaints him with the whole Matter. 'Tis a wonder that the greatest Conspiracies mentioned in History, have been always discovered by the most wicked of those that have enterprised them. Intemperance of speech is the inseparable Companion of Villainy, and incompatible with Prudence, which chief consists in hearing all, in distrusting even Reason itself, and in keeping silence.  
It was not convenient for Nicomachus to go to the King in Person, the Conspirators might have suspected his Fidelity; they doubted nothing of Ceballinus, who was usually in the Palace: And he not losing a minute of time, endeavoured to speak with Alexander. At first there was none to introduce him, but afterwards there appeared Philotas, to whom in a great fright he relates what he had heard of the Conspiracy, and prays him to advertise the King.  
Philotas' his silence, is for certain a most convincing proof of his disloyalty. He is not troubled at this Relation, the danger he sees himself exposed to concerns him not, the Interest of his own preservation cannot abate his Courage, fierce and cruel towards himself: he praises Ceballinus his Loyalty, and is himself disloyal; he returns again to the King (for he could not well do otherwise without giving suspicion) but discourses with him all the while of other Matters.  
The Night came on, Ceballinus wondered there was no stir made, the King being in so imminent danger; and meeting with Philotas, asked him if he had informed Alexander of what he had told him? His answer was, That he had not the opportunity. Ceballinus grew more mistrustful, when he saw the Conspirators the next day walking freely in the Palace, Alexander having done nothing to them, suitable to the resolution his resentment should have made him take: and addressing himself again to Philotas, he entreated him not to neglect an Affair of that Consequence, that concerned the King's Life. He answered him again, He would be mindful of it.  
Several Historians have thought Philotas innocent; because, say they, there's no likelihood that a Man of his Courage and Reputation, should have been two days without provideing for his safety, either by dispatching Ceballinus and his Brother, or by an ingenuous acknowledgement of his perfidious Crime. Plutarch, a great stickler for the Glory of the Grecians, endeavours to justify him; but that Learned Man, as innocent as he makes Philotas, did not well consider, that his silence could not but be esteemed a Crime, in the judgement of all Politicians. 'Twas for his security to hold his peace; in speaking there was danger, either of losing his Life, or his Reputation. It may be the King might have pardoned him: Can a Man of Spirit survive an Infamy? His Authority might have sheltered him from the storm, and have made the cloud break over others heads. What likelihood? Do those that are drawn to Execution, fear after Death the disgrace of great Ones? What then? tell the Conspirators that their Plot was discovered? He, who was the Head of the Conspiracy, cared not to frighten those that were to execute it. There's no Resolution but staggers at the fear of Punishment; Constancy shakes at the apprehension of being called in question; there must be then a recourse to new Measures, Philotas must rather animate his Confederates, than terrify them: What if he had made away with Ceballinus in the King's Palace, in the Camp, in the very Arms of his Companions, what would Nicomachus have said, whom 'twas impossible for him to find as he had hid himself? All these Precautions were destructive. Philotas did like a great Politician, to say nothing to the King, to say nothing to the Conspirators, and to make no noise. He entertained Ceballinus with fair words, the day for the Enterprise was come, and according to all appearance Ceballinus should have relied on the fidelity of Philotas, a Favourite of Alexander's, and one who had greater Interest than any in his preservation.  
But Ceballinus not believing that the King would slight his Information, began to be mistrustful. He goes to Metron, a young Gentleman that kept the King's Wardrobe, and discovers the Enterprise to him: who presently causing him to be hid, acquaints the King with it as he was bathing himself. Alexander immediately gives order to apprehend Dymnus; he enters his Wardrobe, Ceballinus cries out, I see, Sir, you are delivered from the hands of Traitors.  
The King afterwards enquiring touching the Circumstances of the Conspiracy, he told him every thing that Dymnus had declared. But having confessed that it was three days since his Brother gave him notice, Alexander doubted not but that he was one of the Confederates, since he had so long deferred his Information. And therefore he caused him presently to be shackled. Ceballinus, who expected a recompense for his fidelity; feeling the weight of his Chains, cries out in an astonishment, That the very first moment he knew of the Conspiracy, he ran and gave notice of it to Philotas, the only cause of this delay.  
Then Alexander, pierced with grief to see himself so basely betrayed by a Man loaded with his Favours, and so particularly honoured with his Friendship, lifted up his hands towards Heaven; and, as it were, seized with horror, detested with Tears so hideous an Ingratitude.  
Without doubt there's no Grief equals that of having passionately loved one that proves ingrateful and perfidious. When we call to mind, that after all the pains we have taken, after all the proofs we have given of a true Affection and great Trust, we are paid with Ingratitude, we can blame none but ourselves, we must condemn our own Judgements. One would think Nature declares herself against us, since she has endued the meanest Plant with acknowledgement, and seems to rob us of it. This example of Ingratitude will teach an honest Man not to expect returns from a Person he obliges. Favours should only proceed from our inclination to do good; the Heart of a Man's the more noble the less 'tis interessed, and the pleasure of venting his Generosity, is to the honest Man recompense enough.  
Dymnus' seeing himself environed with Guards, troubled at the enormity of his Crime, and the Image of a Death, accompanied with a thousand pains, ran himself through with his own Sword, and would have made an end of himself upon the Spot, had not the Soldiers interrupted him.  
To kill one's self, is in my opinion the basest and the unworthiest of all Actions. Let Antiquity drain its Eloquence, to praise the resolution of Cato or Lucretia; as for me, I cannot but blame Antiquity for calling Cowardice, Valour; Folly, Wisdom; Despair, Virtue. He has no Heart that kills himself, because he will not survive a misfortune more terrible than Death. I call Grandeur of Courage, that constancy with which the wise Man boldly expects the last moment of his Life, as the end of all things, not of misery. For than Death's a favour, it sets at liberty, and makes those happy, that are swept from a dark train of Miseries accompanying Life. Cato could die, but he could not support Caesar's hatred. His Misfortunes cast him into despair, because his Wisdom abandoned him in his Misfortunes. The desire of Life is more vehement than any; to vanquish this may seem a complete Victory; true Wisdom, absolute Government over the Passions: but in reality, 'tis Fear that is victorious, occasioned by some present dislike, sight of Torments, or apprehension of worse to come.  
Dymnus thus wounded, was dragged to the Palace, Alexander, as soon as he saw him, How comes it villain (says he in a passion) that thou hast judged Philotas more worthy of the Empire of the Universe than me? This miserable Wretch was already speechless, and turning his Face from the King's, he fetched a deep sigh (a proof as it were of his Crime) and yielded up the Ghost.  
'Tis a weakness to show any signs of Repentance. A Man that is any thing dextrous, though he be suspected, accused, condemned, 〈…〉 him. Dymnus' pressed with remorse of Conscience, is troubled, stabs himself, sighs, and becomes his own Accuser, Judge, and Executioner. Can he have expected a greater Punishment? Why then not endure the Face of Alexander? Why then avouch his Perfidy, and declare himself a Villain?  
Ceballinus' could not have desired a greater proof as to the truth of what he had said; and Philotas justified him to his own condemnation, losing him from his Chains to put them on himself. The King, who whilst Philotas was absent, had complained of his Ingratitude with tears, could not dissemble his resentment when he saw him. Wherefore with anger in his looks he spoke thus; Ceballinus deserves extreme punishment, if he has been three days without making me acquainted with a Conspiracy against my Person; but if he gave you information as soon as ever he knew it, your silence is yet more inexcusable, considering the great Testimonies of my Trust and Affection. I cannot imagine what should induce you to so horrid a Treason. I have yet some sentiments of Affection for you; If you are innocent, Ceballinus deserves to die; if guilty, make an ingenuous confession, I am not inexorable.  
It concerns the prudence of a Criminal to be throughly acquainted with the quality of his Crime, and not to confess it, if of so heinous a nature, as to exceed his Prince's Clemency. An ingenuous acknowledgement of a Fault, committed through a desire of Revenge, or by the instigation of Choler or Envy, may meet with favour; but for Ingratitude and Disloyalty in a Favourite, there's no hopes of Pardon.  
Nevertheless Philotas ingenuously confesses that Ceballinus informed him two days since that Alexander was in danger of his Life, and that he told him the whole order of the Conspiracy. But what likelihood, said he, that I should give credit to the relation of an infamous Person, and in reporting it to the King, expose myself to the laughter of the whole Court? He added, That if the thing had been found false, he should have sacrificed himself to the hatred of those Nobles named among the Conspirators: that nevertheless Dymnus' Death did sufficiently declare what he had thought fittest to conceal. And then embracing the King's knees, he humbly besought him to pardon a Man he had so much loved, and who had hitherto given a thousand proofs of an untainted Loyalty; since the only Crime that could be imputed to him, was, that he had neglected an Information, that he could not believe true.  
As for me, I am ready to think, that if Philotas had disowned his Fault, the King would never have suspected the fidelity of such a Friend, upon the bare Testimony of a young debauched Youth. The Grandeur of his Services, the Merit of Parmenio, his Birth, Alexander's Affection, Esteem, and Fortune, which made him think himself beyond the reach of Ambushes, would have pleaded his Cause. Dymnus was dead, Ceballinus had given him his Information in private; What had this unfortunate Man to fear, but the remorse of his Conscience, which compelled him to confess his Fault? Such force has Gild to blind the Guilty.  
As Philotas was free and ingenuous, so Alexander was close and counterfeit. He gave him the Hand, seeming to believe him, and stayed him to sup with him, with such amity and freedom, that Philotas, assured of his Reconciliation, thought himself more in favour with his Prince than ever. But he was not well acquainted with the Heart of Man, Fortune makes it as changeable as Proteus; the Manners and Customs of the Persians, a new Grandeur, the Empire of the Universe had altered for the worse a disposition formerly sweet, gentle, and inclined to Good more than any; and Philotas should have been persuaded, by the alteration Ambition had made in himself, that when Fortune smiles, we are like her, inconstant, disloyal, and quite a different thing from what we appear to be. The Wine, and good Cheer warmed Alexander's Revenge. The Feast was no sooner ended, but he called a Council of his Friends; who having heard the Relation of Nicomachus, and the King's Sentiment thereupon, judged Philotas his destruction as good, as resolved upon. Craterus, his Enemy, and one of Alexander's Favourites, lays hold on this Occasion to exercise his particular Vengeance, under pretext of zeal and love for his Master; says he,  
Sir, Why did not you acquaint us presently with Philotas his Infidelity? We would have counselled you to have pardoned this Traitor, without showing him that he was indebted to you for his Life. After an attempt upon yours, and a Pardon for that most abominable Crime, what will he not dare? What may he not expect from your Clemency? Think not, Sir, that the danger he has seen himself in, will render him more loyal for the future. It will not be always in your power to prevent this Parricide. He'll observe other Measures, and lay such Snares, as 'twill be impossible for you to escape. For fear the least Fault of his should waken your Indignation, he'll endeavour again to deprive you of your Life. And though Philotas his Heart be entirely changed, the news of his Crime, and your Clemency, will provoke Parmenio's. Will he, in the Authority he is in, loaded with Honour and Glory, at the Head of a great Army, be willing to acknowledge that he has any Obligation to you for his Son's Life? Some Favours are looked upon as Injuries. Without doubt he'll accuse you of Ingratitude and Injustice, and will rather take away your Life, than have it thought that Philotas has deserved Death. Pray, Sir, consider the imminent danger you are threatened with; We have done our Duty, there's none can impute your Destruction to us, after the counsel we have given you to provide for your Safety.  
There's no Eloquence more persuasive, than that of a Courtier; He's a vehement and pathetic Orator, who knows his Prince's Genius, his Weakness, his Inclination, the Intrigues of the Court and all its Policies. Craterus his Speech, though artificial, appeared full of Zeal, and prevailed in Council. You see how cunningly he could conceal under a profound dissimulation, the jealousy he had a long time had of Philotas his Grandeur. Of the whole Company, there was not one that undertook this miserable Man's defence; all concluded upon his Death.  
The resolution they had taken required secrecy; which Alexander recommended to them; and to avoid giving suspicion, he ordered all his Captains to get ready to march on the morrow. In the mean while Caenus and Erigyus, Leonatus and Perdiccas, received order to send out a detachment of Cavalry, to seize all the Passages that led into Media, that Parmenio might have no intelligence given him. And about midnight Attarras commanding three-hundred Men, went out to secure Philotas his House. Fifty of the boldest of them forced the Door; and whether it were that he relied on his reconciliation with the King, or that his Disquiets had overtired his Spirits, Attarras loaded him with Irons whilst he lay fast a-sleep. The rustling of Arms, and the weight of his Chains wakening him at the same time, he cried out, starting; Ah! Sir, the malice of my Enemies has prevailed with your bounty. They carried him afterwards to the Palace, neither his Fetters, nor the consideration of his Misery, being able to extract from him so much as one word, or one groan.  
The Authority of the Kings of Macedonia was limited, during Peace by the common People, and in time of War by the Souldery; both the one and the other were Judges of Capital Crimes; so that Alexander, Emperor as he was, and Master of all the East, was forced by the Laws to plead his own Cause, and be the Accuser of Philotas.  
Alexander having caused the Macedonians to be assembled in the Palace, and exposed the Body of Dymnus to their view, spoke to them in manner following: Soldiers, a handful of Conspirators had almost robbed you of Alexander. I own my safety to the Gods. I have lived to see you; and your presence animates me the more against my Parricides. I cannot bear it, that these wicked villains would have frustrated me of my Intentions, and the Fruit of my Labours, which can be no other than to honour your Valour, and to recompense your Services. Here his Speech was interrupted by the sighing of his Soldiers, who all wept bitterly; from whence he took occasion to prosecute in these terms. How will you behave yourselves then, when I show you who these Traitors are? I scarce dare yet name them, I expel them as far as I am able from my memory, as if this could save them from their Punishment. But I must stifle the remembrance of former friendship, and discover this abominable Plot. And how indeed can I well conceal it? Parmenio, our Friend of a longer standing than any, on whom both my Father and I have liberally heaped up Favours, has, in his old Age, made himself the Head of this Attempt. Philotas' his Son, the chief Instrument of his Treachery, has suborned Peucolaus, Demetrius, this wretched Dymnus whose Body lies before you, and as many others as he could find capable of so great a madness. At these words arose a great noise, and confused murmur, such as is common to great Assemblies, especially of Soldiers seized with anger and amazement. Nicomachus, Metron, and Ceballinus are introduced. Each of them gives in what he had already declared; but none charges Philotas. So that the whole Army, hearing no Evidence against him, immediately laid aside their Anger, and there was a general silence. The King pursued thus: What can you imagine the Design of a Man, who informed of this Conspiracy, kept it secret? Dymnus' by killing himself declared the Information true. Ceballinus chose rather to expose himself to Tortures, than to conceal a thing of such Importance, though he was not certain of it. Metron was so disquieted, that to discharge himself soon enough, he rushed into the Chamber where I was bathing. Only Philotas believes nothing, fears nothing. A most excellent Courage! when his King's in greatest danger, he changes not his Countenance! he slights the Information. Ah! doubtless this silence was not without Design. The desire of reigning animated Philotas to the perpetration of the highest Crime. His Father commands all Media, and he relying on the credit he has in my Army, and imagining himself Master of my Forces, aspires to more than he is capable of, to more than he deserves. It may be he despises me because I have no Children; but he's mistaken, you are my Family; as long as you live, I am not without Children. Then he rehearsed the Letter that had been intercepted, written from Parmenio to his two Sons Nicanor and Philotas. There was nothing charged them more home of so capital an Enterprise. The substance of it was this; In the first place take care of yourselves, then of those that are under you, and we need not fear accomplishing our Designs. The King added, That 'twas conceived in these terms, for fear of being intercepted, that none but the Confederates might understand it. But you'll say, Dymnus, when he told Nicomachus the Names of the Conspirators, said nothing of Philotas. That's nothing at all, Soldiers, to his Innocency, but rather an effect of his Power. He is so dreaded by those that can accuse him, that when they confess their own Crime, they conceal his. We may judge of Philotas by the Actions of his Life. He was a Confederate in the Conspiracy of my Cousin Amyntas in Macedonia. He gave his Sister in Marriage to Attalus, the greatest of my Enemies. And when I wrote to him in a familiar Letter, what the Oracle of Jupiter Ammon had spoken in my favour, he had the confidence to answer me, That he was glad to hear I was received into the number of the Gods; but that he pitied those that were to live under the Government of a Man that could not contain himself within the bounds of Humane Nature. Are not these sufficient Marks of the alienation of his Spirit, and of the envy he had for my Glory? All this I kept to myself as long as possibly I could. For I looked on it as a ripping up of my own Bowels, to disgrace those to whom I had been so favourable. But now they are not Words that are to be chastised. From liberty of Speech, he has proceeded to that of Action, from wounds of Words, to those of Swords. Philotas (you may believe it) has designed to assassinate me; and if he be capable to perform it, Soldiers, Where shall I seek for safety? Whom shall I trust my Life with? I have made him the only General of the Cavalry, which composes the greatest part of the Army, and the Flower of the young Macedonian Nobility. I have committed to his trust my Safety, Hopes, and Victories. I have advanced his Father to the same degree you advanced me: I have given him the Government of Media, the Richest of our Provinces, with an absolute command over thousands of our Citizens and Allies. In fine, those from whom I expected most defence, have been the forwardest to ruin me. Far better is it to fall at the Head of an Army by valiant Enemies, than to be butchered in a Camp by treacherous Subjects. Preserved from Perils, I had reason to be afraid of, I am now fallen into those I never feared. Soldiers, you have oftentimes desired me to have a care of my Life; have a care of it now yourselves. I put myself into your hands, I have recourse to your Arms; I will not live except you desire it, which if you do, show it in avenging me. Then Philotas was introduced in Chains, his Head covered with an old Cloth. 'Twas observed he was in that condition looked on with pity, by even those who not long before had envied him. They had seen him the day before General of the Cavalry; they knew he Supped the same Evening with the King, and now they saw him at the same time Guilty, Condemned, and loaded with Chains. They considered likewise the strange Fortune of Parmenio that great Captain, who lately had lost two of his Sons, Hector and Nicanor, and would then shortly hear the sad News of his only remaining Son's Condemnation, and of his own Process being made in his absence. These Reflections made the Assembly incline to pity. But Amyntas exasperated them afresh against Philotas; telling them, That they were betrayed to the Barbarians; that they were in danger of never seeing their own Country, their Relations, their Wives; that they were like to be a Body without a Head, without Life, without a Name, exposed in a strange Country to the derision of their Enemies. This Speech, though it prevailed against Philotas, was not very pleasing to the King, who liked not that his Soldiers should be discouraged by the remembrance of their Country, and their Wives. Caenus, Brother-in-Law to Philotas, inveighed against him more violently than any; He called him Traitor to his King, to his Country, to the Army, and took up a great Stone to throw at his Head, (some have thought this was only to free him from those Torments that were prepared for him); but the King holding his hand, told him, That the Prisoner should have liberty to speak for himself, and that he would not otherwise suffer him to be condemned. Philotas therefore is ordered to plead his own Cause. But whether it were remorse of Conscience, or fear of Death, he dared not so much as look up, or open his Mouth. He shed Tears in abundance, and fainted away in the Arms of him that held him. They wiped his Eyes, brought him to himself, and he was going to speak; which the King perceiving, The Macedonians, said he, shall be thy Judges, tell me whether thou intendest to use the Language of thy own Country?  
There are here, answered Philotas, many that are not Macedonians, who will understand me better if I use the same Language you have done; without doubt on purpose to be understood of most.  
Observe (says Alexander) Philotas his arrogance; he disdains to speak our Language, as if he were ashamed of being born a Macedonian. No matter, let him speak how he will; only remember, Soldiers, that our Customs and Manners are an abomination to him, those of the Barbarians very agreeable.  
Men are equally inclined to oppress the Great, and to pity the miserable. A strange thing! if you are happy, you are persecuted by envy; if you are unhappy, you are pitied by every one, but none comforts you. Caenus, who had greater Interest than any to preserve the Honour and Life of Philotas, whose Sister he had married, is the first that rises up against him; 'tis not enough to call him Traitor to his King, to his Country, to the Army, he is the first that takes up a Stone to throw at his Head. Many have believed that it was then his intention to have him stoned, that so he might escape more cruel Tortures. But the more expert, who have tried the Treachery and Inhumanity of the greatest part of Relations, doubted not but that Caenus would have stifled the Compassion Philotas his Misfortune had bred in the Hearts of the Soldiers, which taking force through the Grandeur of his Merit, and the power of his Oration, might at last cause him to be declared Innocent.  
Caenus was one of the Council, when Philotas his Death was resolved upon, and spoke not one word to justify him; neither acquainted he him of this Consult, for fear, it may be, he should suspect him, or others look on him as a Traitor to his King; thus far he is worthier of Praise than Censure. He should have detested the Crime, but not condemned the Criminal; he should have executed Alexander's Orders, but not inflamed his Choler and Revenge. As fo● me, I am ready to think that th● ambition of augmenting his Fortune from the ruins of Philotus', the Inheritance of the immense Riches of his Brother-in-Law, a Grandeur o'retopping his, induced him to press his Execution. Thus does Interest triumph in base Spirits over Duty and Friendship; thus is private hatred covered with the Veil of Justice; thus are the Sacred Laws of Equity made Instruments of Wrath and Vengeance.  
Certainly Alexander merits eternal Praise for withholding Caenus his Hand. Though he ardently desired Philotas his Death, he defers it till the Army, that might have declared him innocent, has had perfect intelligence of his Crime. He rather chooses to rescue Philotas from being tortured, and to deliver him over to be judged by the Macedonians, than to oppress him by his own Authority.  
Alexander having ended his Accusation, withdrew from the Assembly. A Prince should never be present at the condemnation of a Criminal, nor at any thing else that may make him be esteemed cruel and insensible. So that leaving to the Judges the liberty of Condemning or Absolving, he will acquire himself in the Hearts of the People, the reputation of being Just. He will avoid likewise showing favour to the Criminal, which 'tis dangerous to refuse, being requested by an Assembly touched with Compassion. Tho severity in a Prince, when it proceeds not to cruelty, as in my Opinion more proper than Clemency, to attract the Fear and Love of his Subjects; it concerns nevertheless the Policy of a great Monarch seldom to refuse these sorts of Favours, which are a great proof of his Power and Bounty. But it concerns his Prudence too, to avoid the persecution of the Criminal's Friends or Relations, by a prompt execution of the Sentence passed by the Judges.  
Philotas having liberty to speak, said thus:  
As naked Truth, without disguise, has much more force than an Eloquent and Elaborate Discourse, so Innocence ought not to seek out words for its Defence. I should have held my peace, had not the King, who was forestalled, incensed you against me; his Speech is a Sentence of Death, which now to endeavour to make him revoke, is to call him Cruel and Unjust. So that considering I must condemn Alexander's Judgement, I cannot resolve to ask for Absolution. His absence declares that my destruction is resolved upon; and what can I hope for, if the best of my Judges be inexorable? However Philotas shall not die without clearing himself of the Crime he stands charged with. What Proof have they? Am I of the number of the Conspirators? Did Nicomachus name me to his Brother, or Dymnus to Nicomachus? Who enquiring after the Names of those that had conspired the Death of Alexander, and the Order of the Conspiracy; the other engages in it through the consideration of their Birth and Merit: How could Dymnus then forget me, that am thought their Head? Did he fear destroying me? He that had so great a confidence in Nicomachus; he, I say, that ventured with him his own Life, and the Lives of his best Friends? Ceballinus the only Witness against me, is not of the Conspiracy, can he believe that I am? he that discovered it to me? Dymnus is dead, he never named me. His Confederates surviving him, may hope for Pardon, if they can cast their Crime on me. Yet there's none accuses me. What! cannot Tortures wrest the Truth from them, to whom, as 'tis common to the Miserable, the engaging others in their Misfortunes, would be some comfort? Do they believe, in the condition I am in, abandoned, condemned, I am able to deliver them from their Tortures? So you see, Fellow-soldiers, the truth of the first Crime I am accused of. I come now to the second; The King says, I daigned not to advertise him of the imminent Peril that threatened him; I was not at all troubled at it. 'Tis true, Sir, I was to blame, but you have pardoned me. You invited me to Sup with you in token of a Reconciliation. At least you ought not to condemn me without hearing my Defence. What new Crime have I committed? Whence comes my Disgrace since yesterday-evening? I expected nothing less than this dismal change. The Wicked are continually troubled with the Image of their Crime. Their Souls agitated with a thousand different Thoughts, keep them perpetually alarmed, pressed with remorse of Conscience, they seek for their security. The ease Attarras found in apprehending me, discovers the little care I took of my preservation. When he bond me with Chains, I was in a deep sleep; I relied upon the credit of your word; I feared not that the malice of my Enemies should prevail with your Clemency. Further, Sir, could I fear any thing as to your Life, upon the bare report of a Youth of no Reputation, who destitute of all proof, could do nothing but make a vain Alarm. I suspected him too, because he came not to me himself; and looked on it as some private revenge, not fit for me to meddle with. I feared likewise, that he might deny what he had told Ceballinus, and that I might have nothing but regret, for so lightly committing the chief Officers of the Court. But for all these Precautions, I am sacrificed to those I have spared. 'Tis objected, Dymnus anticipated his Punishment by a voluntary Death. Knew I that he would kill himself? If Ceballinus his Relation have no other ground but this, what does it prove against me? Again, had I been a Confederate, how could I have been so quiet two days after the Conspiracy was detected? I could easily have dispatched Ceballinus, or hastened the stroke. I was alone with the King in his Chamber; who could have hindered me? Did I want Dymnus his presence? 'Twas he than that was the Head of the Conspiracy, and yet 'tis I, as is said, that would have made myself King of Macedonia. Whom among you, Fellow-soldiers, have I endeavoured to corrupt? On whom have I bestowed Presents? What Officers are there more than ordinary sensible of my Favours? I am reproached for despising the Language of Macedonians: What likelihood is there of it, if I intent to make myself their King. You know very well, that since we have left our own Country, and have learned strange Tongues, 'tis to all of us some trouble to speak our own. Alexander himself uses it not; therefore he despises the Macedonians. In truth, all these Reproaches are but light, as well as that of being a Friend to Amyntas, who conspired against Alexander. If it be a Crime to be a Friend to a King's Brother, I am guilty; but if his Birth engaged me in those Sentiments for him, can I not be innocent, because I did not divine? What justice is there, that the Frieds of the Guilty should be punished with them? I ought to have died long since had this Friendship been a Crime: and if it be not, Why is it brought in for my destruction? But I pitied the condition of those that were to live under the Government of a Man that equalled himself to the Gods. 'Tis true, I wrote thus to Alexander; but told I it any else? Gave he me not the liberty to discover my Sentiments to him? Had I not reason to fear that his Vanity might render him odious to his People? If he have such Faith in the Oracle, let him consult it touching my Crime: Jupiter will never conceal a Secret of such consequence to his Son's Life. And if you'll rather trust to Tortures, I am ready to undergo them. My misfortunes dispense with my introducing my Relations. I had two Brothers, they both died in Battle for Alexander's and Your Glory. I have only a Father left, accused of the same Crime with me; neither the Grandeur of his Services, the consideration of his Age, nor his passion for the King, prevailing against the cruelty of those that envy him. Miserable Wretch! must I then, dear Father, be the cause of your Death? Did you give me Life to deprive you of yours? Is this the Recompense of so many Battles gained? of so much Blood spilt in your Family? Is this the Comfort you expected from me in your last days? Nature was ready to redemand your Life full of Glory; in the next Battle, the Grandeur of your Courage would have laid you bleeding in the midst of your Trophies; but your Enemies not contented to deprive you of an only Son, envy you the glory of a Death that would have rendered you immortal. But, tell me, was Parmenio himself believed, when he wrote to Alexander, how that Philip his Physician, corrupted by Darius his Gifts and Promises, had engaged to poison him? The King gave so little credit to his Letter, that he gave it Philip to read whilst he took his Physic, to mock, as it were, at my Father's credulity. I have made myself too the Subject of Raillery, for having too lightly believed things more probable than what Ceballinus informed me. If I give Information, I make myself ridiculous; if I hold my Peace, I am looked on as a Criminal; what should I do them?  
Presently one of the Company cried out; Not conspire against the Life of your Prince and Benefactor. Whosoever thou art, thou hast spoken wisely, (answered Philotas) and if I am guilty of that Crime, I condemn myself to the worst of punishments. And here I make an end, since you seem unmoved at the consideration of my Misfortunes, and my last words have kindled your Choler.  
Philotas' his last words seemed neither to proceed from a Man that was innocent, nor from one that had that courage he should have in the worst of Fortunes. A good Conscience never despairs in bad Fortune; had but Philotas, guilty as he was, had the confidence to answer with more vigour, his Innocence would not have been doubted, the Soldiers would have been incited to compassion. A bold and resolute word, uttered in the midst of the horrors of Death, has preserved many a Criminal's Life. Nothing so easily persuades a multitude, as the constancy of a great courage. Without doubt Philotas his Tears and Fainting were Testimonies of his Crime, as they were tokens of his Despair or Repentance.  
His Guards had no sooner conveyed him from the Assembly, but Belon, a stern Man, and of a base Extract, who had raised himself to several Charges by his Valour, spoke to the Soldiers with greater animosity against Philotas, than had been observed in Alexander, in manner following.  
Is it possible that Macedonians, who have always abhorred Treachery, should be touched with compassion for a Traitor to his King and Country? What has he done to deserve your Clemency? Have you not had sufficient proof of his Pride, of his Cruelty, of the Impudence of his Domestics? How often, when we have been tired, has he interrupted our repose, by the noise of a number of Slaves following at his Heels? He that drove the Macedonians from his Tent, because he would have no noise? Which of you could ever speak to him without an Interpreter, as if he only were born in Macedonia, and all of us Barbarians? Did he ever make you sensible of his Favours? He that after Battle always loaded his Wagons with the Fruit of our Labours, and our Conquests? May we not be ashamed that we have hitherto continued his Slaves, who has so long abused the King's Favour, and our Patience? He would have Hammon tell the truth, and yet he reckoned him an Impostor for owning Alexander for his Son. Did this Traitor consult Jupiter, when he conspired against the Life of his King? He would only gain ●im● to give his Father Intelligence, that he may come down upon us with all the Forces he can raise in Media. Let us send to the Oracle, not to search a Truth we are already sufficiently informed of, but to return thanks for Alexander's being preserved from the Snares of this Traitor.  
There needed not all this to incense the Assembly; there was none appeared concerned for Philotas his misery; they all unanimously breathed Revenge; the King's Guard cried out, They should let them tear the Parricide in pieces. But his Enemies reserved him for more cruel Tortures. The King having referred his Sentence till the next day, called a Council, to advise whether it were better to have him first tortured, or immediately delivered over to be Stoned. This last Opinion was most humane, and had been followed, but that the cruelty of Hephaestion, Craterus, and Caenus was more prevalent. They were for having him tortured, and charged themselves with the execution. All the Instruments of Torture were set before Philotas his Eyes; at which the miserable Wretch shaking for fear, cried out, That Rack was needless, since he confessed his Crime; that he had conspired against the Life of Alexander; that he would have taken it from him if he could; that they should therefore speedily give him the Death he deserved.  
But Craterus, glad of an opportunity to exercise his private revenge, persisted in it, that they must extort from him who were his Confederates. In vain did he implore the Gods of his Country, and the King's Mercy. He was put to the Rack; his Judges were his Enemies and Tormentors; Scourges and Fire could hardly satisfy their fury. A strange thing! Philotas but a little before despairing at the sight of his Punishment, was, as it were, insensible in the midst of Torment. The pain he endured, could not wrest one word from him; and he suffered all that cruelty and vengeance could invent, till such time, as mangled all over, he promised to discover what he knew. His Tormentors were ordered to retire; Then addressing himself to Craterus, Tell me, says he, what thou wouldst have me say.  
There's no greater trouble, than that of being exposed to the vengeance of Enemies; the Soul feels greater pain, than the Body groaning under the cruelty of Tortures. Philotas, who endured the Rack without giving one groan, could not refrain his Choler. Craterus not well brooking this derision, calls again for his Tormentors. Then Philotas, vanquished by the rigour of his Stripes, and enfeebled by the great quantity of Blood he had lost, demanded respite, and began afterwards to tell them, how that Hegelochus, a Man of courage, and ambitious, who died at the last Battle, not enduring to worship Alexander as the Son of Jupiter, resolved to take away his Life; and not being able, continued he, to accomplish so great a Design himself, he endeavoured to engage my Father and me it. What, said Hegelochus, shall we live under the tyranny of a Monster? Who, though he is the wickedest of Men, is not ashamed to trace his Original from the Gods? If he have the confidence to abuse Jupiter himself, then what can we expect from his Vanity? His Pride was insupportable to us before the Oracle's ananswer; and since, 'tis grown to that height of insolence, that not content with our Blood and Lives, he requires from us a base complaisance, nothing l●ss than adoration. Parmenio, pursued Philota, was very much astonished at this Discourse; the next day he talked with me about it, and not knowing whether Hegelochus had been transported with Choler, or warmed with Wine, he sent a Messenger to desire him to come to him. Being come, he said the same he had done the Evening before, and as it seemed, with more resolution, adding, That if we would be the chief of the Conspiracy, he would undertake to execute it. Parmenio and I having given him our Faith, thought it best to wait till the death of Darius, that all the Orient might be the reward of that Enterprise. As for that of Dymnus, I swear by the Life of Alexander, I never knew any thing of it: And why should I disown an Attempt, that would be no greater Crime than the other.  
His Judges thought he had not said enough yet. They had him tortured afresh; and Craterus, who had not fully satisfied his revenge, was glad of having further time to exercise his fury against him. In fine, Philotas finding himself no longer able to undergo the violence of his Tortures, confessed, That he was the Head of that last Conspiracy, that his Father's Age and Authority had equally induced him to it; that seeing him Head of a powerful Army, Master of Media, and the King's Treasury; and fearing further, that if he did not make haste, Parmenio's Death might deprive him of the opportunity of making himself King, he had conceived this execrable Design: As for the rest, that Parmenio was no ways guilty; that he never had communicated his Intention to him; for proof of which, they might, if they would, put him again to the Rack.  
His Judges fearing he might expire in his Tortures, were obliged to let them cease, to reserve him for a death more ignominious, as it was public. They returned therefore to the King, and acquainted him with the Criminal's Confession. Alexander commanded them to bring him the next day to the Assembly, desiring that he might own what he had said in the presence of the Macedonians. Philotas' his Deposition was then publicly read, and acknowledged by him; and Demetrius, one of his principal Confederates, was introduced. Never did the most Innocent Man appear more concerned for a Reproach cast upon him, than Demetrius, guilty as he was, seemed offended at the Examination made into his Crime: which he disowned with all the confidence of a good Conscience, and proffered himself to be racked to show his Innocence. His impudence stirred up Philotas his Choler, who looking round about him, spied a young Man called Calis, and asked him, How he could suffer Demetrius to stand so impudently in a Lie? Calis, whose imprudence brought him thither, knew not what to answer: and the Macedonians believed that Philotas accused as well the Innocent as Guilty. But as soon as the Youth saw himself encompassed with Guards, he confessed his Crime, and charged Demetrius.  
Calis his Confession, shows how false it is what some Authors have written touching Philotas his Innocence; For how could he know that this young Man was of the Conspiracy, if he were not in it himself, since neither Ceballinus, nor Nicomachus named him?  
Pholotas and all his Confederates, according to the custom of Macedonia, were immediately slain with Stones, whilst this miserable Wretch had the power to disown so detestable a Crime. The Soldiers were touched with his Misfortune. A little more constancy would have saved him from Death. 'Tis most certain Alexander ran the risk of losing his Life, and of seeing all his Soldier's revolt. They were inclined to Sedition; they pitied the deplorable Condition of Parmenio, whom they loved as their Father; and his Son had never been sacrificed to the fury of his Enemies, had he but continued firm. But when they saw that he confessed Conspiracy upon Conspiracy, Crime upon Crime, their Pity was converted into Rage, and they all massacred him as a Parricide.  
The Macedonians had a cruel custom; When any of them was convicted for conspiring the Death of their King, that attempt was not only punished in the Person of the Criminal, but his Relations received the same Punishment. Almost all the Persons of Quality, and brave Soldiers in Alexander's Army, were either Philotas his Relations, Friends, or Confederates. For fear of meeting with the same Entertainment, some of them provided for their security by flight; and others despairing of theirs, killed themselves. Without doubt the misfortune of so many brave Men would have raised a tumult in the Camp, had not Alexander proclaimed a Pardon to all the Conspirators Relations.  
Amyntas and Simmias were excepted. The flight of Polemon, their younger Brother, was the pretext of their disgrace; the true cause, the strict friendship they had always had with Philotas. The King on his account bestowed several Favours on them; and the care this unfortunate Man took to raise his Friends, brought them into the same misery with himself. Alexander persuading himself that they were of the Conspiracy, endeavoured to have them condemned as well as the rest. He represented therefore to his Soldiers, That he had reason long since to suspect the fidelity of Amyntas and his Brothers; that his Mother Olympias had given him notice of their evil Intentions; that the private Conferences between them and Philotas increased his suspicion; that the flight of their Brother was the effect of a bad Conscience; that they had been all three not long since with him, had dismissed the rest of their Company, and would have executed their Design, but that the Guards coming in prevented them; that the day before Philotas was taken; Antiphanes, Commissary of the Horse, having demanded Horses from Amyntas for those that wanted them, he had insolently refused them, and threatened him besides; that this arrogancy could proceed from nothing else but their conspiring his Death, and the hopes they had of accomplishing their Design on the Morrow. That in fine, after so many proofs of their perfidiousness, there was no place left for Doubts.  
Amyntas was brought forth into the presence of the Army, and having obtained liberty to defend himself, he desired that his Chains might be taken off, and a Javelin given him; which was done accordingly as a sure presage of favour; for these badges of Honour give encouragement to speak, whereas a Criminal groaning under the weight of his Chains, commonly makes but a languishing harangue, of little efficacy to stir up the compassion of his Judges.  
Amyntas, full of hopes, represented, That the friendship he had with Philotas, could not with justice be imputed to him as a Crime; that after that manner the chiefest of the Court would be found guilty; that from that height of Fortune the favour of Alexander had seated him in, he had attracted the respect or envy of every one; that none being able to purchase the King's Favour, if he were not supported by the friendship and protection of Philotas, 'twas no strange thing that every one should court him; that they had with Alexander esteemed his Zeal, his Courage, the Grandeur of his Services, his Father's Merit, but that they detested his Crime; that they had had private Conferences with him, but that this had been all along their custom. In fine, That they had hated Philotas when they knew him a Parricide and disloyal, as much as they had loved him whilst a happy Favourite, and Arbiter of the Fortune of the Macedonians. He added, That if he were guilty for refusing Horses to Antiphanes, the other was no less for demanding them; that he had but two, which Antiphanes would have taken away by force, though he could not spare them without being reduced to the necessity of fight on foot among the Cavalry. For the rest, that the suspicions of Olympias were to be suspected, for that being sent into Macedonia, he had, by Alexander's Order, drawn out Troops thence, contrary to the Queen's pleasure; that from his Obedience and Services, sprang the resentment of Olympias, that they should therefore punish him for having faithfully served his King, and obeyed his Orders.  
Amyntas was interrupted by the noise of those that brought back his Brother Polemon bound in Chains. The Multitude seeing him in the condition of a Criminal, could hardly forbear stoning him. But the young Man, for despair of having thus exposed his Brothers, proffered to die, on condition their Lives might be preserved. As he was extreme beautiful, and had committed no other Fault but flying, all the Soldiers were so moved at his Repentance, that they unanimously cried out, These brave Men deserved their Pardon. Alexander was prevailed with, but Amyntas was inexorable; the King commanded him at last to forgive Polemon, as he had done, and so dismissed the Assembly.  
Polydamus was Parmenio's chiefest Friend; in Battle he had him always at his side, to make him, as it were, participant of his Glory; he had enriched him with his Favours, and had more confidence in him than any. Alexander causing him to be called, commanded him to bring in his Brothers, whom he kept as Hostages, and spoke to him in manner following.  
Parmenio's attempt has wronged you more than any, for under shadow of Justice and Zeal for my Service, he has particularly obliged you to his Interests. All his Favours, all his Friendship tended to no other end than to corrupt you, and to render you a Complice to his Treachery. 'Tis you therefore that must revenge his Infidelity, and the Ingratitude he has shown towards me. See what confidence I have in you, that I have chosen you to carry these Letters to my Lieutenants in Media. You shall present two to Parmenio, one from me, and one from his Son, for I have his Seal; he will not doubt of any thing when he sees you. In the mean time I will keep your Brothers, as Pledges to assure me of your Faith; and when you have executed my Orders, your fidelity shall be rewarded.  
Polydamas was so alarmed when the King caused him to be called, and commanded him to bring in his Brothers, that he utterly despaired of Life, because of the intimate friendship between him and Parmenio. Thinking therefore on nothing more than the danger he had escaped, and forgetting what he owed his Friend, he promised Alexander more than he required. Here you may observe the Frailty of Court-friendship. Interest gives it its Original, and Fortune changes it every moment: If you are happy, you are adored; if you are miserable, you are insulted over.  
Polydamus employs all diligence, arrives in Media by Night, and instantly delivers the King's Letters to his Lieutenants. Upon which they immediately assemble in Cleander's Apartment, and deliberate on means to take away Parmenio's Life. They resolved therefore to go to him the next day all in Company, to execute Alexander's Orders.  
Unfortunate Parmenio was walking with them in a Park, when Polydamus, whom he had sent for, was brought unto him. He runs presently to embrace him, and being glad to hear from his King, and to see his Friend, he receives him with extreme joy. Polydamas having given him Alexander's Letter, Parmenio after he had read it, told them, That he could not but admire that the King, after so many Conquests, should yet think of subduing the Arachosians; That it was now time for him to return into Macedonia, there in quiet to enjoy his Victories, and the Glory he had acquired. After which, as he was reading Philotas his Letter with great pleasure, Cleander thrust him into the Bosom with his Poniard and gave him another stab in the Throat.  
Thus expired Parmenio and Philotas, both of great credit in the Army, both intimate Friends of Alexander, the most puissant of all the Nobility of the Empire; the bravest of Captains; the most illustrious among the Macedonians. The death of Philotas was miserable, full of pain and infamy; that of Parmenio more cruel, unjust, and ominous to Alexander's Life, who afterwards could find no Captain of that valour and experience in his whole Empire, nor found he afterwards the same zeal and affection from his Soldiers, and the chief of his Nobility.  
We all die alike, but Death is not equally grievous to us all. If it be the end of our Miseries, we desire it, we seek it, we run to it; but if it terminate a Life full of Happiness, Grandeur, Glory, and Delights, it fills us with despair. Parmenio had lived seventy Years in all prosperity, he had exposed himself to several Dangers in his King's Service; he had been the Companion of his Victories, and had done many glorious Actions worthy the envy of Kings; illustrious both in Peace and War: he died assassined by his Confidents, upon Suspicions not well cleared, and by Alexander's Order, who was indebted to him for his Empire.  
There's nothing more fit to compare the Courts of Princes to than the Sea. There's no greater pleasure than to fail on this Element during a Calm. Some Voyages by Sea are as pleasant as profitable; but 'tis dangerous to make them a Profession, since early or late one must perish in them. You'll say there's this difference, That it is not in the power of Man to lay a Storm, but that the Sage can in Princes Courts moderate his Passions, and not suffer himself to be carried away with too much Ambition. Teach us this Lesson yourself, and show us how to curb Envy.  
Some small reflection upon Philotas his Conspiracy, will easily inform us how much more difficult it is for a Courtier, elevated to the highest pitch of Favour, to moderate his Ambition, than for another who has every thing yet to wish for. Nevertheless the latter has but one step to the accomplishment of Grandeur, and the former is infinitely distant from it. The highest fortune of a Minister differs as far from Royalty, as Supreme Power from the obedience of Subjects. 'Tis therefore a folly to think the ascent to a Throne easy for being near it.   

THE CONSPIRACY OF HERMOLAUS.  
THe consideration of a Danger happily avoided, renders the Sage more moderate and cautious; whereas all the effect it has on a Savage Spirit, is to make it more extravagant, rash, and arrogant. The fear Alexander had of the last Conspiracy, was like that of those who see the falling of a Thunder-Bolt without receiving any damage. They fear just at that moment, and presently forget the Danger; like those that come to themselves from Swooning, incapable to make reflection on an evil they have not felt. Add to this that Confidence more dangerous than the Peril itself, and so common to Man, whereby he fears not a Danger past, though when imminent it narrowly concerned his Life. Some yet more irrational, are so forestalled with their good Fortune, that they imagine themselves above Fate, and such are oftentimes reserved for a tragical and miserable Catastrophe.  
Alexander grew so outrageous after the death of Parmenio, that he knew no Limits; the risk he ran in the last Conspiracy, rendered him less provident, he thought he might for the future freely injure the Macedonians. The facility wherewith he had quelled Parmenio and Philotas, made him more bold and insolent; he thought himself King indeed, when he saw that he was Arbiter of his Subjects Lives, and that there was nothing more to be done to place himself beyond the reach of Envy, than to shed the best Blood in Macedonia. The more you commend the vanity of great Ones, the more are they in love with it; the more Blood a Tyrant sheds, the more is he desirous of shedding it.  
Lyncestes Alexander had been imprisoned three Years, upon an Accusation of two Witnesses, for conspiring against the Life of Alexander; the Reason his Punishment had been so long deferred was, because he was the first that saluted Alexander King after the death of Philip. Antipater, Lyncestes his Father-in-Law, was Governor of Macedonia; and it seemed very probable, that the intercession of one that was Master of so flourishing a Kingdom, should have suspended his execution a far longer time. But Alexander would no longer hearken to Policy: an insatiable desire of revenge carried him on towards his own ruin. He caused therefore the Criminal to be brought forth, accused only by two Persons, and had him dispatched according to their custom.  
The Chief of the Macedonians perceived presently that Alexander grew more cruel from day to day, and began to fear for themselves. They were ready to think, that the Heavens provoked by the King's vanity, who dared equal himself to the Gods, had inspired Philotas with the desire of taking away his Life. However they spread this Rumour through the Army, the easier to engage the Soldiers to a revolt.  
The remembrance of Parmenio's Merit, and Philotas his Misfortune, who died in the flower of his Age, had already excited pity in the Macedonians. In the one they thought they had lost the Protector of their Liberty, the Avenger of the Gods and of their Country; in the other a Captain of rare Valour, without whom Alexander could do nothing that was great. These seditious Discourses would have forged a Rebellion, had not the King caused his Army to march against the Arachosians. Without doubt that was the only means to dissipate all ill Designs. Idleness spoils the Soldier's Spirits, but all these murmurs vanish at the first sound of the Trumpet.  
Nevertheless Alexander's Conduct might well have made such brave Men desperate. For having known that several highly resented Parmenio's Death, he formed them into a Body, and made Leonidas their Captain, ordering them to incamp separately from the rest, as it were, out of ignominy. It was not to be feared that their seditious Discourses should have corrupted the rest of the Macedonians; for, as is the custom of Soldiers, Martial Liberty, and the joy of new Conquests, would have laid their Anger and their Malice.  
In the mean while Alexander abandoned himself to all sorts of Vices. The irregularity of his Manners increased with his Victories, and his Ambition no longer curbed by Virtue, carried him to that excess of Pride, as to require from the Macedonians and Persians Divine Honours. I cannot but pity the weakness and vanity of this Prince. Can he think the Macedonians would worship as a God, one born of Philip and Olympias, subject to the same Infirmities with other Men? These Heroës, whom Antiquity has placed in the Heavens, lived in such sort, that Posterity reckoned them in the number of the Gods after their Death; and if during their Life they should have required from Men Adoration and Divine Worship, without doubt they would have rendered themselves despicable and ridiculous to the whole World. The Sages forbore not to scoff at those false Divinities; and the more enlightened Pagans have themselves laughed at their own Religion.  
Alexander presumed too much upon the Grandeur of his Actions: the Persians, and other strange Nations, might well admire them; but the Macedonians could do no more than praise his Conduct and his Courage. Those that run the same danger, are willing to participate with the General in the Glory of the Conflict, and suffer with regret that any one should attribute to himself the honour of the Victory. But if he were so intent to elevate himself above the condition of Men, why was he not more diligent to gain respect from his People? It is not for the Majesty of a Prince to make himself too public: if he will be adored, he must separate himself from the Commerce of the World.  
The old Macedonian Captains taking it ill that Alexander should publicly debase his Father's Glory, scoffed at his Pride and pretended Divinity. Which so incensed him, that he killed Clitus, his Nurses Son, with a Javelin. This great Warrior, who had saved his Life at the Battle of Granicus, suffered with regret his so outrageously attacking the Memory of Philip, and abhorred his Vanity, and the enormity of his Crimes. Neither was he without a Second; Calisthenes, who made profession of Wisdom, declared himself more openly: for as Cleo one day, at Table with the chief of the Macedonians and Persians, propounded to render Divine Honour to Alexander; This Philosopher answered him with his usual freedom, That it was not in the power of Men to make a God, that they could hardly make a King; and that the Persians would be their Conquerors, if they followed them in their barbarous Customs. The freedom that Polypercon took was yet greater, who seeing a Persian worshipping the King, began to laugh, and throwing him upon his Face, bade him bow lower.  
All these Scoffs tended to the diminution of Alexander's Glory: How then could he expect Divine Honour from those that so much contemned him? For this he must have changed the form of Government; have made himself absolute Monarch of the Empire; have usurped the Macedonian Freedom; have been Arbiter of their Lives and Fortunes; have dispatched his Nobles; and have kept such a distance between himself and his Subjects, as might have made him seem quite different from what he was. But if the horror of so great an Impiety, or the necessity he then had for his Captains, permitted him not to arrive to that excess of Cruelty; it concerned his prudence and wisdom to moderate his Ambition; and the friendship of his Nobility would have been far more glorious, than the adoration of the Persians, proceeding from the base complaisance of that Nation.  
'Twas this unreasonable Pride which made him again run the risk of losing his Life, which at last precipitated him to his ruin, and has rendered his Memory odious to all Ages. The Death of Calisthenes is certainly deplorable, and a great proof of Alexander's Wickedness, who could not suffer an honest Man in his sight. In fine, he fell on a sudden from that moderation that had made him admired and loved of every one, to so violent Extravagancies, and to so great profusion of Vice, that 'tis no wonder that Hermolaus should have the boldness to conspire his Death.  
The Nobleman's Children of Macedonia, according to custom, were obliged to enter into the King's Service at fifteen Years of Age. After some Years the Prince promoted them to the highest Charges; of them came Favourites, and the greatest Captains. According to all appearance, these young Nobles were more likely than any to tolerate their Prince's Defects and Government, as having been for a long time accustomed to his Humour, and brought up in his Court as Sons. But as it is impossible entirely to bereave Lions of their natural fierceness; so there is in humane Nature something so fierce and indomitable, that though it may for some time be kept under, it can never be extinguished; there is a self-love which is, as it were, the measure and first mover of all our Affections; there is a Liberty which the weight of Chains cannot bow.  
Who could have thought that these young Nobles, having contrived a Conspiracy against Alexander, (so much the more dangerous, as they were driven by a desire of Glory, and an implacable hatred) and given each other their Faith, should neither by the caresses of their Prince, nor the inconstancy of their Age, be induced to violate the same for a long time; all but one observing it entirely, which is rare in Traitors.  
Alexander being one day a Hunting, Hermolaus, one of his Pages, threw his Dart at a Wild Boar and killed him. The King, who was running in to present the Beast with his Spear, conceiving indignation against Hermolaus, caused him to be whipped according to the custom of the Macedonians. But this young Nobleman not brooking the Affront, showed, that those who are so far advanced in Years, as to be able to take up Resolutions beseeming Men of courage, are not to be dealt withal as Children. Nothing is more capable to incite a resolute and ambitious Spirit to revenge, than the receiving shameful Punishment for a bold and generous Action, worthy of a Prince's Applause. Virtue has its Venom; 'tis dangerous to provoke it; we see daily Pity converted into Fury.  
Hermolaus in despair seeks out Calisthenes, that wise Philosopher, and enemy to Flattery, famous for his Learning, and the austerity of his Manners. Presently he complains to him with tears of the outrage he has received; and 'tis reported, that Calisthenes, whether it were to incite him to revenge, or to comfort him, said to him; Consider, Hermolaus, that thou art now no Child. These words gave him such courage, that from that very instant he conspired the death of Alexander.  
The Counsel of great Men is held in a Commonwealth as an Oracle and a Law; whence it comes that a Man esteemed wise by the Vulgar, can easily raise a Multitude, and cause a great disorder in a State. The more powerful therefore a Man is in Counsel, the more moderate should he be in giving it. Calisthenes, whom every one heard with pleasure, aught to have taken heed to his words more than any, under the reign of a Prince who punished the intemperance of the Tongue with the severest Punishment. He had done like a Man of great Wisdom, if he had only comforted Hermolaus in his disgrace, and not set him on revenge, a young Man apparently incapable of such kind of Erterprises. One must be certain of the Event; destroy one's Enemy, or not attack him.  
Hermolaus inflamed with a desire of Revenge, and not being able to accomplish it himself, assembles his Companions, and speaks to them in this manner.  
If the Affront I received only concerned me, I would only lament my disgrace, and impute it to my bad Fortune. But all the Macedonians have part in my Infamy, and it concerns their Glory to take a memorable Revenge. Doubtless the Gods, jealous of their own Grandeur, have suffered Alexander, who dares equal himself to them, to deal with us so unworthily, that they might inspire us with a just resentment, and courage to free ourselves from this Monster of Pride. Be not deceived, my Companions, I have not been punished according to Law: Alexander could not suffer that I should rob him of the Glory of killing a Wild Boar; he has exercised his private Indignation; Envy is the only cause of this outrage. I have done a bold Exploit for my Age, fit to be admired, and he has treated me like a Slave. What recompense can you now expect for your great Services, if Ingratitude and Ignominy be the Reward of Courage? What avails it you, Macedonians, that you have gained by the price of your Blood, the Empire of the Universe? Were it not better to be in bondage to the Persians? A generous Action gives a Slave his Liberty, which we lose in the midst of Victories. Happier the Vanquished than the Vanquishers, under the Government of a Tyrant? He cannot suffer the Glory of the latter, they are incessantly the Object of his Fury, whereas the former come not within the reach of Envy. I scruple not to say that Alexander is a Tyrant. What fit name can be given to one that is so greedy of his own Citizen's Blood? How shall I find words to express his Impiety, his Cruelty, his Arrogance? Is he not a Monster, to make himself Arbiter of men's Lives, and the Glory of the Gods? who would be Master of our Bodies, and Tyrant o'er our Hearts? who not content to reign on Earth, would have command in Heaven? He is not ashamed to require Honours that another would refuse; and because we free Macedonians, laugh at the base complaisance of the Persians, he hates us, he lays Snares for us, he oppresses us. See how he recompenses those to whom he is indebted for the Empire of the East, his Glory and his Life. His insolence ascends to that degree of impiety, as to make us own for the Son of Jupiter, a wicked perfidious Desertor, who forsakes the Laws of his Country to follow the Customs of Barbarians; whom we have known born of Olympias; who is jealous of his Father's Glory, and assassinates his best Friends. What do you expect, O generous Souls, a Death as cruel as that of Parmenio and Clitus? Shall we yet sprinkle Alexander's Laurels with our Blood, to be at last like those great Men sacrificed to his fury? Consider that there is nothing dearer to miserable Mortals than their Lives; shall we suffer them freely to be taken from us? Why should we not rather secure them by Alexander's Death? So memorable an Action will eternize our glorious Memory to posterity. This Tyrant's Life is in our Hands, the Heavens have given him over to our Vengeance; in us, whom he has cruelly injured, he reposes all his confidence; would you have a more convincing proof of the Will and Anger of the Gods? Without doubt 'tis their pleasure to make use of our tender Youth in so bold an Enterprise, to make it known to the World that they are the Authors, we only their Instruments. Is there any of you so ill advised as to oppose the Gods? Incited by the Heavens, Alexander's insupportable Pride and Cruelty, a●m'd, greedy of Glory, and full of firm Resolution, shall we not dare attack a Man without Guards, unarmed, oppressed with Crimes, in a deep sleep? I have chosen you, my Companions, from all others, to participate in a Glory that shall never die. Provide for your security, rescue the Liberty of your Country; shake off a Yoke full of Infamy and Pain. Revenge the Gods, revenge yourselves, join with me, and put an end to our Calamities.  
This invective of Hermolaus made such an Impression upon the Spirits of those young Nobles, that they presently resolved to take away Alexander's Life. Sostratus, one of them, who loved Hermolaus entirely, could not behold the Marks of his Stripes but with extreme grief, and exagerating the King's Cruelty, his Friend's Merit, the Macedonians Disgrace, the injury done the Gods, the necessity of revenging that Affront; he so inflamed those young Spirits, already disposed for revenge, that they promised interchangeably to be faithful one to another, and became unfaithful to Alexander.  
So powerful is Religion, that it has an absolute dominion over the Spirits. The Fealty Subjects usually swear to their Sovereign, is for the most part inviolable, the People are seized with a Religious Horror when any one breaks his Faith. But we must not mistake, there are two sorts of Religions; the one draws its Original from Heaven, and being wholly Divine, has a secret force to make us do good; the other is founded on humane fear and frailty: almost all our inward Motions have no other Rule but this imperfect Religion; our obedience to the Laws and Magistrates, proceeds from the fear we have of Magistrates and of the Laws. When this Fear ceases in the Heart of Man, Religion ceases too. You see Hermolaus and Sostratus persuade their Companions that the Gods approve of their Revenge, and conspire together with them, and upon that account they banish from their Hearts that fear which the Power of the Laws had till then maintained in them; they are no longer restrained by that Religion that is wholly Celestial; the Gods in their Opinion are offended at the Affront given them, they think to revenge them in revenging themselves.  
Confederates with Hermolaus and Sostratus were, Nicostratus, Antipater, Asclepiodorus, Philotas, Articles, Elaptonius, and Epimenes. At the very first they met with an Obstacle in their way. They foresaw, because they could not be all on the Guard at once, that it would be difficult for them to execute their Design. But at last, by changing the order of the Guards, they brought it about that they were one Night altogether alone in the Palace. 'Tis a wonder that in two and thirty days, (the time they employed in taking their Measures) not one of them should reveal a Secret entrusted to so many.  
Souls truly generous, which act only out of a desire of Glory, are most capable of silence. 'Twas only their Animosity against the King, and the Honour they thought would redound to them from that Action, that induced them to their Revenge. Ambition, and Interest, had no share in it; for then likewise when Riches, or some alteration in Affairs are expected, the fear of losing what is already possessed, enjoins secrecy. Those act with great courage, their desires increase with the danger, and every moment seems to them an Age. These act nothing without Fear, at the point of Execution they tremble, and the dread of Punishment makes them think of their own and their Prince's preservation.  
The Night came, in which the Conspirators intended, by treachery, to spoil Alexander of his Life; they stood waiting at the Door, whilst the King was at Supper, for his coming out to go to Bed. On the one hand they were glad to see him sit at Table longer than ordinary, imagining that it would be easier for them to dispatch him, charged with Wine and Sleep. On the other, they feared that the pleasure of the Repast might retain him till it were day, and that other Guards taking their places, they might be forced to defer the execution of their Design eight days longer, which put them into strange disquiets. In fine, Alexander retires, and the Conspirators think themselves certain of their Enterprise. Let a prudent and wise Man order things with the exactest diligence and greatest caution, neither his caution nor his diligence shall be able to change the course of Fortune. Fortune in my opinion is no vain imaginary thing; 'tis an assembling of certain Circumstances, which neither our Wisdom can unite or separate; and 'tis great rashness to presume to change the order of Fate.  
Just as Alexander was going to Bed, a Woman, accounted Foolish, who used to foretell things to come, came and told him, that he was threatened with some danger, and that he should return and spend the rest of the Night at Table. Whether it were that the King was troubled at this Discourse, or that his own Inclination persuaded him to debauch, he said, 'twas good to follow the Counsel of the Gods, and caused his Company to be called back.  
I know not why the Law forbids to give credit to those that pretend to foretell things to come. A number of Events foreseen several Ages before they happened, may persuade us that this Science is not altogether vain. Yet notwithstanding we must be subject to the Law, as it is the emanation of the Wisdom of God, and not believe Histories, which are oftentimes no other than mere humane Fictions.  
As soon as it was day, the Guards, according to custom, were relieved; which notwithstanding the Conspirators, whom a vehement desire of revenge pushed on to the execution of their Design, would continue still. The King persuaded that they were willing to give him a proof of their Obedience and Affection, praised their Zeal, and sending them to take their Rest, ordered fifty thousand Sesterces a Man to be given them.  
What cannot a generous Action work upon the Spirit of Man? What cannot the Favours of a King effect with a Soul never so passionate? An insatiable desire of Avarice causes daily a thousand base Actions, a thousand Treacheries; how much greater is the force of Liberality, that excites acknowledgement from the most ingrate, that reclaims the cruelty of Tyrants, that appeases the Anger of the Gods. If Riches in the corruption of the Age we live in serve to cover the infamy of the wicked, will not Virtue, think you, accompanied with the Goods of Fortune, appear with greater lustre? What wonder then if it be of greater force to attract the Hearts of Men? Without doubt Vice would not reign on Earth, if Virtue were but recompensed. Here Princes should bestow their Favours; this is the true means to secure themselves the Fidelity of their Subjects. The desire of Man having no other Object than Honour and Riches, there's no one but had rather merit them by faithful Services, then acquire them treacherously. Who is he that would prefer Ignominy before Glory, punishment before a Reward, that that is uncertain, and to come, before the enjoyment of a certain and present good? Two things render a Prince odious, and incline his Subjects to revolt. When he rewards the Services of the Upright with Ingratitude, and vents his Favours on the Wicked and Vicious. The Honest, if they are in misery, seek not to get out of it by ways of Honesty; they esteem them useless; they take the shortest way, and endeavour to invest themselves in charges through dissimulation, malice, and base complaisance; when flattery and such other indirect means fail them, their Spirits corrupted by new Maxims, and imagining that the Wicked cannot be without a Recompense, prompt them to Violence, Injustice, Treachery, and oftentimes to conspire their Prince's Death. Prince's therefore should seek their security in the Hearts of those that live under their Dominion. They should extend their 〈…〉 erosity to all their Subjects. Not that a Monarch is obliged to bestow his Favours equally on all sorts of Persons. Such a magnificence would rather attract Contempt, than Love and Gratitude. Presents, like Meats, disgust, if they are not seasoned with justice and distinction of Merit. That Prince cannot be esteemed liberal, that gives indifferently to every one. That's a prodigality, proceeding neither from esteem nor friendship, the only ingredients to gain Hearts in bestowing Benefits. We have no acknowledgement barely upon the account of a Benefit, our Gratitude has a more noble and worthy Object, it considers principally the good Will and Affection of the Giver. But on the other hand, a Prince should avoid being so inconsiderately profuse, as to give so largely to his Favourites, Ministers, or Friends, as to deprive himself of the means to show them further Favours; nor indeed should he remove them from the necessity of desiring them; for than they grow insolent in their good Fortune, they look on their Prince as an exhausted Source, they contemn his Affection grown barren, they fly their Benefactor, they hate him. When a Man is elevated to the highest degree of his Ambition, Ingratitude, and Avarice, are the inseparable Companions of his Pride. A Prince should therefore comfort the Miserable, but not make them happy; do good, but not all the good he can; promote some many degrees above others, but never to the highest.  
Epimenes, one of the Conspirators, whether vanquished by Alexander's Liberality, as considering that he might expect both a Pardon for his Crime, and an extraordinary Recompense besides if he saved his King's Life; who for a service of little consideration, had given him fifty thousand Sesterces; or whether fearing the Anger of the Gods, revealed the Conspiracy to his Brother Eurylochus. Who presently carries him to the Palace, and asks to speak with the King. Ptolomaeus and Leonatus, who guarded his Chamber-dore, having learned from him, that he had something to tell the King that concerned his Life, warned by Philotas his Example, gave them entrance; though the King after his debauch had need of rest. Presently Epimenes relates the whole Order of the Conspiracy; and Alexander, though frightened at the danger he had run, was glad of finding this Pretext to ruin Calisthenes. Touching whom he asked Eurylochus several times, if he were not a Confederate or Friend to the Conspirators? But Eurylochus could give him no other Answer, than that Calisthenes gave ear to the Invectives of those that spoke boldly concerning his Conduct and Behaviour. Alexander nevertheless treated him as a Confederate; and calling to mind the freedom of that Philosopher, who had refused to render him Divine Honour, he ordered him to be shut up close Prisoner with the Conspirators.  
As Alexander was severe to the Conspirators, so he was liberal and grateful to Eurylochus and Epimenes. To the latter he gave his Life, to the former fifty Talents, and the confiscation of Tiridates his Goods, who was very rich.  
So great Interest has a Prince in recompensing the fidelity of his Subjects, that his Favours proceed rather from his Justice than his Liberality. As many Favours as he confers, so many Sentinels has he to watch for him. Rewards have greater force than Punishments; and the expectation of Good, than the fear of Evil. The custom of pardoning those, that reveal Crimes themselves are guilty of, is no less ancient than necessary. Impunity rouses the Conscience, causes it to reveal the Treason, and preserves the Life of the Prince. However such Traitors are not to be confided in: and 'tis dangerous to seem to mistrust them; they are like those Animals that are tamed only for a time, early or late, they return to their first fierceness.  
The next day Alexander caused the Conspirators, all but Calisthenes, to be brought forth into the Assembly. The Criminals Relations were called, and in their presence the King asked those Traitors, What he had done to them to induce them to conspire his Death? They as resolute, as if they had been upon the point of executing their Design, answered him boldly, That they were sorry they could not yet take away his Life. These words stirred up the Soldier's indignation; and they demanded those Parricides to be delivered to them.  
A Crime, if acknowledged with some Tokens of Repentance, excites compassion; if with impudent Confidence, it creates Horror. The Offence itself deserves pardon, the vanity of boasting in it is insufferable. For in this there is malice; the other is a weakness that may be born with.  
The King admiring the boldness and contumacy of these Youths, represented to them, That he had loved them all as his Children, that not long since they had been sensible of the effects of his Affection; that they should therefore freely declare the occasion that led them to conceive so detestable a Design.  
At these words they began to relent; only Hermolaus, with more constancy than a good Conscience could furnish, took the word, and addressing himself to Alexander, Know you not, said he, that we are born free? how comes it then that you handle us like Slaves? A Tyrant, as you are, does not deserve to live. To whom Alexander said, Continue boldly what thou hast learned of thy Master Calisthenes.  
I accept of thy favour, answered Hermolaus; and in giving me leave to speak, thou sufficiently declarest thy impiety. Setting aside all thy other Actions, Can there be a greater proof of thy licentiousness, than the opinion thou hast of the Grandeur of thy Merit? after having rendered thyself unworthy of protection from the Gods, or the esteem of Men, thou askest, What induced us to conspire thy Death? Does there any thing represent itself to my Eyes, or Memory, that does not mind me of thy intolerable Vanity, of thy Cruelty, worthy not of one, but a thousand deaths? If I look on thee, I see a Monster of Pride, who disowns great Philip for his Father, and has the insolence to call himself the Son of Jupiter. Nay, such is thy impudence, that thou requirest Worship from us, as if thou were't really in the number of the Gods, and not the Object of their Fury. If I look upon the Army, I find I am first to make reflection on myself; thou hast used me unworthily for courageously killing of a Wild Boar. After this I must pity the misfortune of so many brave Men, and valiant Captains; thou hast through a cruel Ingratitude inflicted Death on those that have preserved thy Life. Was there ever such a Tyranny heard of? Was ever the Virtue, Valour, and Love of Subjects thus rewarded? If I consider the many Provinces we have conquered, this great Empire of the Persians, worthy of a better Prince, I must own that we ourselves are vanquished; Strangers are our Masters, thou thyself yieldest to their Laws; their Customs, their Habits, their Manners, their Alliances, their Friendship and Religion, which thou preferrest before our Laws, sufficiently discover that they are Victors, and thou their Slave. O wretched, O deplorable condition of the Macedonians! Dost thou see now what is the Subject of our Animosity? The only Obligation we have from thee is, That thou wilt this day free us from a Servitude a thousand times more ignominious and cruel than Death to generous Spirits. Happy those whom thou hast caused barbarously to be massacred, Attalus, Lyncestes, Clitus, Parmenio, and Philotas. Had they lived, they would yet have groaned under thy Tyranny; the God's were pleased to withdraw them from a dismal train of miseries that thou inflictest on thy best Friends. It may be thy Affection is seated in the Soldiers, and the common People. O Heavens! thirty thousand Mules loaden with Gold, and the riches, spoils of the Enemy, follow in the rear of thy Army, when thy wretched Soldiers, of all their Conquests, retain nothing but Scars, illustrious Marks of their Courage and thy Ingratitude. In fine, thou art no longer King of Macedonia; thou art a Slave to the Persians. Their delicacy pleases thee more than the Macedonian temperance. We justly therefore pursue thee as a Desertor; and at most, it was not the King of Macedonia, but the King of Persia that we would have killed. And you, Macedonians, base Souls, unworthy the Glory of your Ancestors, miserable Slaves to a Tyrant's Pride, Have you not the Hearts to shake off so infamous a Yoke? And you, my Father, that hold your Sword at my Breast, deserve not to have given Life to such a Son. This day will you acquire by my death a glorious and eternal reputation; suffer me then to speak, and oppose not the liberty granted me from your God. 'Tis because he fears not the words of a Child. Why hearest thou not, Calisthenes? To arrive to the highest pitch of Tyranny, I see thou intendest to suppress in him all the freedom of the Greeks. Think not that he is of the Conspiracy, he never knew any thing of it; and for proof of this we all proffer ourselves to be racked. Seek some other Pretext to satisfy thy revenge, cut off the only true Macedonian, in whom resides all the virtue of our Ancestors. For thou hatest the looks of an honest Man. For the rest, pardon the miserable old Age of our Fathers, and confound not the Innocent with the Guilty. As for us, we die with regret, only for leaving thee alive.  
These Invectives so incensed the Assembly, that the Soldiers would a hundred times have torn Hermolaus in pieces. His own Father, called Sopolis, sometimes stopped his Mouth, sometimes presented his Sword to his Breast to make him hold his peace; but Alexander commanded him to retire. Sopolis his Indignation could not be too great; Men are born Subjects before they are Fathers. The tender affection of a Father towards a Son is natural, and cannot be stifled without doing himself extreme violence; however, the safety of his Prince is to be preferred before that of his Children; and the Voice of God to be obeyed rather than the Voice of Nature.  
Alexander with admirable patience bore all that Hermolaus had said against him, and having seated himself where he might be heard, he answered in this manner.  
Haddit what this Impostor has said been true, I could let you have torn him in pieces, and not have heard his Invectives; and were I guilty of those Cruelties he charges me with, I own it I were unworthy to be King of the Macedonians. But what occasion have I given Hermolaus to speak thus of me? Some time since he committed an insolence, and I caused him to be chastised according to our ancient Custom; to hear him speak, you would say, I had cruelly tormented him. What would not his Revenge have done, since for being beaten with a Whip, he could resolve upon a Parricide? 'Tis no wonder he should have an horror for the Punishment of Parmenio, of Philotas, of Aitalus, and Lyncestes; in defending them he defends himself; he would not be guilty, if those who have committed the same Crime, were declared Innocent. And as for Clitus, I wish I had not been constrained to punish the Intemperance of his Tongue. It is not always in our power to use Moderation; the clemency of Kings is often times surmounted by the audacity of Subjects; there are certain Injuries that cannot be pardoned. When Kings are injured, they must be appeased by Submission, and not provoked through Obstinacy and Pride. I wonder not at all that Hermolaus accuses me of Cruelty, since he has the impudence to accuse me of Avarice. I know Princes ought not to bear in mind the Favours they have bestowed on their Subjects, but only the Services they have received from them. I shall not therefore represent unto you, that there are none of you but what are sensible of my Donatives, that would diminish the price of my Liberality, and the Acknowledgement you own me. But pray consider whence you had your Beds of Gold and Silver, your Troops of Slaves, your sumptuous Spoils, and rich Booty. As for the Persians, I confess, that coming into Asia to conquer, not to lay desolate, I cannot resolve to handle as Slaves, a People whose Affection secures my Empire and your Glory; and in this I think I give sufficient proof of my Moderation, that I govern them in that manner, that they can have no regret at my Victories. Would you be continually employed to subdue Provinces already conquered, which under an Imperious Dominion would be always revolting? Would you be stopped in the midst of your Victories by Insurrections, better restrained by kind usage than by force of Arms? We should then extirpate whole Nations, and make ourselves feared more for our Cruelty, than our Courage. What glory would it be to the Macedonians to change the Name of Conquerors, for that of Thiefs and Murderers? And after all, what have you to say against those that sight for you? In sine, is not Hermolaus wicked, to scoff at the Oracle for owning me a God? Should I refuse a Name so glorious, and oppose the Will of Jupiter? as if the grandeur of my Actions did not elevate me above Men. Further, in War Reputation is worth an Army; and I could wish for your Glory, that the Indians would believe me a God. But I see very well, this insolent Youth hath said nothing but what he has learned from his Master Calisthenes, and he would have been glad to have heard him vent the same Injuries against me in your presence. He is an Olynthian, and therefore I had him not brought in, because the Macedonians only have the Privilege to be tried by the Army. As for the Criminals Relations, they shall live and enjoy their Charges; though I should not have let these Parricides know this, that if they had any sentiment of Affection for them, they might die with more regret.  
Alexander is worthy of praise for pardoning the Criminals Relations. It concerned his Prudence, as well as his Bounty, so to do. And I am ready to think that this Law of the Macedonians, inveloping the Innocent with the Guilty, was only made to give terror, without any design of putting it in execution. For what likelihood was there of massacring a number of brave Men, highly necessary to the State for their Valour and Experience? I suppose too, in a great Army, it would have been more dangerous than easy to have condemned them. Laws are to be applied as Medicines, which not rightly used, work a contrary effect, and bring Death instead of curing.  
After the King had dismissed the Assembly, the Conspirators were delivered over to their Companions; who, to testify their fidelity, and the horror they had for the Treachery of Parricides, executed them in a cruel manner.  
We can learn nothing certain from History concerning the Death of Calisthenes. Some writ that he died upon the Rack; others, that he endured the Rack, and was afterwards Crucified; all agree that either he lived a most miserable Life, or died a most cruel Death. Certain 'tis, that he was no ways Confederate in the Conspiracy; but he was of a morose humour, inflexible, and very unproper for the Court. He would treat with the King upon equal terms, and speak at Court as in the Schools; whence Aristotle said of him, That he had all the Austerity of a Philosopher, all the Eloquence of an Orator, but very little Conduct and Judgement. Whatsoever may be said, the memory of Alexander will be odious to all Ages, for causing to be executed a Man of an incorruptible probity, excellent in Wisdom and Knowledge, the fairest Ornament of Greece.   

THE CONSPIRACY OF ANTIPATER.  
NOw are we arrived to the triumph of Perfidy; hitherto have been but vain endeavours. Fortune was vigilant in Alexander's preservation; but at last she delivers him over to a Traitor, who by Poison hurries him out of the World, that had made himself Master of it.  
Antipater is the Man, the more blame-worthy, as Alexander had entrusted him with the Kingdom of Macedonia. This Prince when he went for Asia, left behind him his Mother Olympias, a Woman haughty, ambitious, cruel; and if we may believe History, Adulterous, and skilled in Magic. He left her all the Authority and State of a great Princess, and commanded Antipater to observe all her Motions; but to do nothing that might show distrust. The jealousy of supreme Authority presently divided these ambitious Spirits, and the affection of the People. Antipater was the Image of their Prince, Olympias his Mother; the Laws of the Kingdom defended Him, Nature protected Her.  
Had Alexander foreseen these Discords, he had done like a great Prince, to leave in Macedonia these two Spirits jealous one of another. This was the only means in his absence to preserve himself the Kingdom of his Ancestors. To leave his Mother in absolute Authority was dangerous; the Macedonians doubtless would never have yielded Obedience to a Woman; the Grecian Provinces would have revolted; and all the Neighbour Princes, jealous of Alexander's Grandeur, would have taken up Arms, and have made use of his absence. On the other hand, it was to be feared, that if Antipater were established sole Governor of so powerful a Kingdom, Olympias, as the Prince's Mother, might make a Party sufficient to effect the ruin of the State. But the choice Alexander made of these two Persons was not the effect of his Providence. For Antipater having written a Letter to him full of Invectives against Olympias, he laughed at the reading of it, and said to those then present, That one Tear from his Mother was able to efface all the evil Impressions that could be given of her Conduct; that Antipater was a very bad Politician to oppose the Queen's Desires; and that all Greece could not make him suspect her. And Antipater having added, That Cleopater, Alexander's Sister, prostituted herself shamefully, and led a very dissolute Life; he answered, That she might make use of her Royal Privilege. On the other hand, Olympias accused Antipater of Tyranny. Her Policy was to set Alexander against him, and to persuade him, that she had an entire motherly Affection for him, a true Zeal and Passion for his Service.  
Alexander desiring to please his Mother, and suspecting, upon the Advice she had given him, Antipater's Fidelity, takes from him the Government of Macedonia, and confers it on Craterus.  
Alexander having therefore taken from Antipater the Government of Macedonia, should either have secured a Man of so great Credit, or have recompensed his Services. He, on the contrary, instead of sending him away, calls him into the Army, and prefers his Sons, Jollas and Philip, to Charges, not to be entrusted but with those on whom a Prince has showered Favours. In the mean while he continues disaffected towards their Father, irritating his Courage, already not well brooking the Affront given him.  
Alexander glorying in his Conquests, meditated vast Designs; the extent of so great an Empire not satisfying his Ambition, he aspired to the Monarchy of the Universe. In the mean while Antipater receiving the news of his Disgrace, presently conspires the Death of his King. And remembering the unfortunate Success of the Conspiracies, both of Philotas and Hermolaus, he avoided the Precipice into which they fell. He took other measures, and thought Poison an infallible means to dispatch Alexander. Some writ that Aristotle gave him this Advice. But as for me, I cannot imagine that Philosopher capable of so great a Villainy against his Pupil, and his King, who had loaded him with Favours. The Example of Seneca, who according to all appearance conspired the Death of Nero, proves nothing against Aristotle; he only made profession of Wisdom; the other aspired to an Empire.  
Alexander's Death being resolved upon, Antipater sent his Son Cassander to the Army, intending speedily to follow him; and charged him to acquaint the King how false and malicious Olympias her Accusations were. Coming to the Army near Babylon, and seeing the Persians prostrate themselves at the King's feet, he began openly to scoff at them, and could not forbear laughing; which so offended the King, that he took him by the Hair of his Head, dragged him on the Ground, and trampled on him. Some days after Cassander having undertaken his Father's Defence against those that were come to accuse him, the King commanded him to hold his peace; saying, 'Twas very unlikely Men should come so far to tell him Lies. Cassander would continue, but Alexander told him in choler, That he would make him repent of his Disobedience; that his Reasons were no other than Aristotle ' s Fallacies; and that he would not suffer Antipater, vain and treacherous as he was, to go unpunished.  
Not long after this Antipater arrived. He saw the Storm hover over his Head, and thought how he might prevent the Danger. Wherefore he called his Sons, Cassander, Jollas, and Philip; and with all the authority and tenderness of a Father, represents unto them, That in vain he had given them Being, if he did not endeavour to procure them a Life full of Happiness and Pleasure; and that he should be himself very unhappy if he did not live after his Death in his Children, succeeding him in his Revenues and Employments. Those, said he, have no reason to applaud Nature, that are born of an Illustrious Race, and live unfortunately; the more splendid their Birth, the more heavy and insupportable is their Misery. As Man is a part of the Universe, through the qualities of his Temperaments and his Spirits; so he is no part of the World Politic, without Riches and Promotions. To be without these, is not to live, but to die, nay, to die every day as long as ones Life lasts. These Thoughts, my dear Children, disturb me only upon your account. You know what great Glory I have acquired in the Armies, which gained me a large share in Philip's Affection. You have seen me raised to the highest degree of Grandeur, Arbiter of a flourishing Kingdom; caressed by Alexander, till such time as his mind of late, as much corrupted by the effeminacy of the Persians, as it was formerly well instructed by the Precepts of Divine Aristotle, induced him to depose me from governing Macedonia; and upon the Report of my Enemies to suspect my Fidelity, always incorruptible. So that 'tis impossible to support our Grandeur, unless we take off the Head of this Monster. Can you be of so base a Spirit, as to resolve to live unhappy, without Wealth, without Honour? Can you be so unnatural as to survive my Misfortune? What say I? Can you think to escape Death, after they have taken away my Life? Cassander, thou hast had experience of this Tyrant's Cruelty, thou hast heard his Threats; Canst thou doubt of suddenly seeing the Effects? Olympias, infamous as she is, has prevailed against our Merit; shall we wait, like Clitus and Parmenio, to be sacrificed to Alexander's Fury? No; I can never think that the Offspring of Antipater will degenerate from his Glory, and that of his Ancestors. Be not daunted at the Death of Philotas and Hermolaus: like a good Pilot I have learned to avoid those Rocks where others have been Shipwrecked. Those were forced to have several Associates, to intrust a Secret to many Persons; we ourselves can execute the Design I meditate. They would have killed Alexander in the midst of his Guards, in the sight of the the Army; We will take him off by Poison at Table, in the midst of good Cheer. His Sickness and his Death will be imputed to his debauching. Jollas is his chief Cupbearer, what is there more easy, than to convey the Poison into his Wine, or into his Water? My dear Children, 'tis now no longer time to deliberate, we must speedily kill Alexander, or he will kill us.  
Cassander, Jollas, and Philip, presently resolved upon that great Villainy, and expected only the conveniency of some Feast, that they might execute their Design.  
In the mean while Alexander hastens towards Babylon, where Ambassadors from all parts of the World attended his coming, to congratulate with him for his Conquests. Nearchus, one of his chief Officers, advertised him of a Prediction of the Chaldeans, threatening him with inevitable peril if he entered the City Babylon. Though he was as much given to Superstition as any one, yet nothing could stop his Journey. In appearance he went thither as to the Diet of the Universe, to impose Laws on all the Earth; but in reality his Destiny drew him, thither he went to his own destruction.  
As he drew near the Walls of Babylon, several Presages troubled him, and he remembered the counsel of Nearchus. Nevertheless he would not return back, but entered the City, foreseeing, as it were, his Misfortune. Not long after a Thessalian Physician made a Feast, and invited Alexander and the chief of his Courtiers thither. He failed not to be there, and having drank of Hercules his Cup, he felt such violent pain, that he desired them to kill him with his Sword. It was presently given out, that drinking too much Wine had occasioned his Distemper; and thus Antipater's Authority stifled the Infamy of his Treason.  
Plutarch writes, that Alexander died of a violent Fever; and reports for proof of what he alleages, that his Body continued for several days as fresh and sound, as at the moment of his expiring. I wonder that so Learned a Man should be ignorant of the nature of some Poisons, that preserve from corrupting, and leave no marks of their effect. Whatsoever may be said, 'tis certain that perfidious Jollas poisoned the King's Water, and then mixed it with his Wine.  
Thus expired great Alexander, quelled by Domestic Treason, after he had conquered all the East. The eminent Qualities appearing in him at the beginning of his Reign, made every one admire him; the enormity of his Vices, proceeding from his Fortune, rendered him odious to all the World. He continued a long time magnificent, liberal, of a sweet and gentle disposition, inclined to Justice and Clemency; he became at once unjust, cruel, extravagant, mistrustful, superstitious, and so addicted to all sorts of Vice, that there was no hopes of his returning.  
So Illustious an Example as this, may serve to instruct all Princes, that there is no Power stronger than a resolute Heart; that there is no Prudence but may be o'erreached by Malice; and that the Dispair of one Man is more to be feared than an Army.   
FINIS.