Antiquities — Book 18

Josephus · a new plain-English translation from the Greek

How Quirinius was sent by Caesar as assessor of Syria and Judea, and to dispose of Archelaus's estate. How Coponius, of the equestrian order, was sent as prefect of Judea. How Judas the Galilean persuaded the people not to register their property, until Joazar the high priest persuaded them instead to submit to the Romans. What sects there were among the Jewish philosophers, and how many, and what their laws were. How Herod and Philip the tetrarchs founded cities in honor of Caesar. How the Samaritans defiled the people for seven days by scattering the bones of the dead in the Temple. How Salome, the sister of Herod, on her death left her estate to Julia, the wife of Caesar. How Pontius Pilate wished to bring the busts of Caesar secretly into Jerusalem, and the people rioted and would not accept it. What happened to the Jews in Rome at this time because of the Samaritans. The accusation brought against Pilate by the Samaritans before Vitellius, and how Vitellius forced him to go up to Rome to answer for his conduct. The war of Herod the tetrarch against Aretas, king of the Arabs, and his defeat. How Tiberius Caesar wrote to Vitellius to persuade Artabanus the Parthian to send him hostages, and to make war on Aretas. The death of Philip, and how his tetrarchy became a province. The voyage of Agrippa to Rome, and how, accused by his own freedman, he was put in chains. How he was released by Gaius after the death of Tiberius, and became king of Philip's tetrarchy. How Herod, having gone up to Rome, was exiled, and how Gaius gave his tetrarchy to Agrippa. The strife between the Jews and Greeks in Alexandria, and the embassy sent by each side to Gaius. The accusation of the Jews by Apion and his fellow envoys, on the ground that they had no statue of Caesar. The disaster that befell the Jews in Babylon because of the brothers Asinaeus and Anilaeus. This book covers a period of thirty-two years.

Quirinius, a man of senatorial rank who had held the other offices of state and passed through all of them on his way to the consulship, a man great in other respects too in his standing, arrived in Syria with a small retinue, sent out by Caesar to be judge of the nation and to assess its properties. Coponius, of the equestrian order, was sent with him to hold full authority over the Jews. Quirinius also came into Judea, now added to Syria as an appendage, to assess their properties and dispose of Archelaus's money.

The Jews, though at first indignant at the very idea of the census, gave way and did not resist any further, persuaded by the high priest Joazar, son of Boethus. Submitting to Joazar's arguments, they assessed their properties without further hesitation. But Judas, a Gaulanite from a city called Gamala, taking with him Saddok, a Pharisee, pressed hard for revolt, saying that the assessment meant nothing less than outright slavery, and calling on the nation to defend its freedom. If they succeeded, he said, they would win prosperity for the possession they had gained; and if they failed of that good, they would still win honor and glory for their high resolve—and God himself would join eagerly in bringing their plans to success, if only they, setting their hearts on great things, did not shrink from the labor it required. And since the people received their words with such pleasure, the enterprise made great headway; there is no evil that did not spring from these two men and fill the nation to overflowing, beyond all telling: wars brought on by their teaching, which knew no cessation of violence; the loss of friends who might have lightened the burden; the raids of great bands of brigands; the murder of leading men, under the pretense of the public good but in reality from hope of private gain; the factions that grew out of this and political bloodshed—some of it inflicted by men slaughtering their own kinsmen in a madness that would not let them fall short of their rivals, some by the hand of the enemy; famine reduced at last to the extremity of shamelessness; the storming and razing of cities—until this same faction spread even to burning the very Temple of God with the fire of our enemies. So true is it that the innovation and alteration of ancestral ways carries great weight toward the ruin of those who combine to bring it about, since Judas and Saddok, by raising up among us a fourth philosophy never known before, and finding no shortage of enthusiasts for it, filled the state at once with turmoil and planted the roots of the troubles that followed, all through a philosophy till then unfamiliar to us. About this I wish to say a little, especially since the passion of the younger generation for it coincided with the ruin of our affairs.

The Jews had, from the most ancient of their traditions, three philosophies: that of the Essenes, that of the Sadducees, and a third followed by those called Pharisees. I have already spoken of these in the second book of the Jewish War, but I will nonetheless recall them briefly again now.

The Pharisees make their way of life simple, conceding nothing to soft living, and they follow the guidance of whatever their reasoned tradition has judged and handed down as good, holding that the observance of its precepts is a thing worth fighting for. They yield honor to their elders, and those who are puffed up with boldness do not presume to contradict what their elders have proposed. Holding that all things are brought about by fate, they nonetheless do not strip from human beings the will to act on their own impulse, since it has pleased God that there should be a mingling, and that the will of man, with its virtue or its vice, should join in the deliberation of fate's council. They believe that souls have an immortal power, and that beneath the earth there are rewards and punishments for those whose practice of virtue or vice has occurred in life—perpetual imprisonment for the latter, but for the former an easy path back to life. Because of these beliefs they are extremely persuasive with the common people, and whatever is done in the way of divine worship, prayers, and the performance of sacrifices, is carried out under their direction. To such a degree have the cities borne witness to their virtue, by their pursuit of what is best in all things, both in their manner of life and in their speech.

The Sadducees, on the other hand, hold that the soul perishes along with the body, and they own no observance at all beyond the laws; indeed they count it a virtue to dispute with the teachers of the school of wisdom that they follow. This doctrine has reached only a few men, though these are the foremost in rank; and practically nothing is ever accomplished by them, for whenever they come to office, they submit, unwillingly and under compulsion, to what the Pharisee says, since otherwise the populace would not tolerate them.

Among the Essenes the tradition is to leave everything in God's hands, but they too hold the soul immortal, counting the attainment of what is just a thing worth contending for. They send offerings to the Temple, but perform their sacrifices according to a purity distinct from that of others, by which they are kept apart from the common precinct, and so offer their sacrifices among themselves. Otherwise they are men of the best character, wholly devoted to farming. What deserves admiration in them above all others who lay claim to virtue is a practice found among no Greeks or barbarians, indeed not even briefly—one that has been with them from ancient times without interruption: their property is held in common, and the rich man enjoys no more of his own wealth than the man who possesses nothing at all. Those who follow this way of life number more than four thousand. They take no wives and have no desire to own slaves, believing the latter leads to injustice and the former opens the way to strife; instead, living by themselves, they render service to one another. They elect collectors of their revenues, good men chosen from among whatever the land produces, and priests to prepare bread and other food. They live in no way differently from most others, except that they most closely resemble the customs of the Dacians.

Of the fourth of the philosophies, Judas the Galilean set himself up as leader. In everything else it agrees with the opinion of the Pharisees, but they have an unconquerable passion for freedom, since they hold that God alone is their leader and master. They think little of enduring the strangest forms of death, or the punishment of kinsmen and friends, for the sake of never calling any man master. Since most people have seen for themselves how unshakable they are in holding to this position, I have let the matter drop without going further into it; for I have no fear that anything said about them might be met with disbelief—rather my fear is that my account might fall short of the contempt with which they actually receive suffering and pain. It was from this madness that the nation began to sicken, when Gessius Florus, who was then governor, drove them by his abuse of power to desperation and revolt from Rome. So much for the philosophical schools among the Jews.

Quirinius, having now sold off Archelaus's property, and the assessments—which took place in the thirty-seventh year after Caesar's defeat of Antony at Actium—now complete, deposed Joazar the high priest, who had lost the confidence of the populace, and appointed Ananus, son of Seth, high priest in his place. Herod and Philip, each having received his own tetrarchy, settled into their rule. Herod fortified Sepphoris, to be the ornament of all Galilee, and named it Autocratoris; and Bethramphtha, likewise a city, he surrounded with a wall and named Julias, after the emperor's wife. Philip built up Panias, by the springs of the Jordan, and named it Caesarea; and the village of Bethsaida, on the Lake of Gennesaret, he raised to the rank of a city, both by the size of its population and by other means, and named it Julias, after the emperor's daughter.

While Coponius, whom I said had been sent out along with Quirinius, was governing Judea, the following took place. During the feast of unleavened bread, which we call Passover, it was the custom for the priests to open the gates of the Temple from the middle of the night. So on that occasion, as soon as the gates were first opened, some Samaritans, who had come secretly into Jerusalem, began scattering human bones about the porticoes and throughout the whole Temple, an act unheard of before then. Because of this the priests kept the Temple under still stricter guard than before. Not long after, Coponius returned to Rome, and Marcus Ambivulus arrived to succeed him in office.

Under his term Salome, the sister of King Herod, died, leaving to Julia the town of Jamnia and its whole toparchy, together with Phasaelis and Archelais in the plain, where the plantations of palm trees are most abundant and their fruit is excellent. Annius Rufus succeeded him in turn, and it was under his term that Caesar died, having been the second man to rule Rome as emperor, for fifty-seven years, six months, and more than two days, of which time Antony shared rule with him for fourteen years; he lived to the age of seventy-seven. Tiberius Nero, the son of Caesar's wife Julia, succeeded him in the principate, being now the third emperor, and it was he who sent Valerius Gratus to the Jews as prefect, in succession to Annius Rufus.

Gratus, having removed Ananus from the priesthood, declared Ismael, son of Phabi, high priest; and not long after, removing him too, he appointed Eleazar, son of the high priest Ananus, high priest. A year having passed, he removed this man as well, and handed the high priesthood over to Simon, son of Camithus. This man too held the office no more than a year before Gratus removed him, and Joseph, also called Caiaphas, succeeded him. Having done all this, Gratus returned to Rome, after spending eleven years in Judea; Pontius Pilate came to succeed him.

Herod the tetrarch, who had by now advanced far in Tiberius's friendship, built a city named Tiberias after him, settling it with the best people of Galilee, on the Lake of Gennesaret. There are hot springs not far off, in a village called Ammathus. Settlers of mixed origin flocked there, no small number of them Galileans; and there were those brought from the territory under his rule by compulsion and force to inhabit the place, and some, too, of the ruling class. He took in as fellow settlers even destitute men gathered from every quarter, some of them not even certainly free, and in many ways he freed and benefited them, imposing on them the obligation not to abandon the city; for their houses he built at his own expense, and he made them a grant of land, knowing that the settlement was contrary to the law and to Jewish tradition, since many tombs had to be removed to make room for the founding of Tiberias—and our law declares that those who dwell on such a site are unclean for seven days.

About this same time Phraates, king of the Parthians, died, the victim of a plot laid against him by his son Phraatakes, for the following reason. Phraates, having had legitimate children, had also an Italian slave girl, named Thermusa, sent to him among other gifts by Caesar; he made use of her at first as a concubine, but, struck by her great beauty as time went on, and once she had borne him a son, Phraatakes, he made her his lawful wife and held her in honor. Having, in everything she might say, gained the king's confidence, and eager that the rule of the Parthians should pass to her own son, she saw that this could not come about unless the legitimate sons of Phraates were somehow removed. She therefore persuaded him to send his legitimate sons to Rome as hostages. And since it was not easy for anyone to oppose Thermusa's commands to Phraates, these sons were duly sent off to Rome. Phraatakes, now being raised alone to share in the government, thought it a hard thing, and at the same time a long wait, for his father to hand over the rule to him in due course; and so he plotted against his father, with the collusion of his mother, with whom, rumor had it, he was also intimate. Hated on both these accounts—his subjects reckoning his mother's incestuous love no less monstrous a pollution than the murder of his father—he was driven out by a rebellion before he could grow great in power, and fell from his position, and so died. The noblest of the Parthians, taking counsel together—since it was impossible for a people to be governed without a king, and yet it was not lawful for anyone but one of the royal line of the Arsacids to rule, and it was intolerable for the royal dignity to go on being insulted in this way, as had already happened many times even down to now, from

By an Italian concubine's marriage and their offspring they called him Orodes, sending envoys to fetch him -- a man otherwise resented by the populace and open to blame for the extremity of his cruelty, for he was thoroughly perverse and quick to violent anger, but he was one of the royal line. Him they conspired together and killed: some say at a truce and at table, since it was the custom for all to carry daggers; but as the more common account has it, they lured him out to a hunt.

They then sent envoys to Rome asking for a king from among the hostages there, and Vonones was dispatched, chosen ahead of his brothers; for it seemed that fortune was inclining toward him, since two of the greatest realms under the sun, his own and a foreign one, were being offered to him. But barbarians are quick to overturn what they have set up, being by nature prone to instability, and disposed to resent any indignity -- for they thought it beneath them to do the bidding of a king reared as another people's slave, calling his time as a hostage "slavery" instead and holding the very title in contempt. It could not be, they said, that the man who would rule Parthia should have been handed over by right of war -- and, worse still by far, by the insolence of peace.

At once they summoned Artabanus, king of Media and himself of the Arsacid line. Artabanus was persuaded and advanced with an army. Vonones went out to meet him, and at first, with the mass of the Parthians rallying to his side, he drew up his forces and won, and Artabanus fled to the borders of Media. But not long after, gathering his strength again, Artabanus engaged Vonones and won, and Vonones rode off to Seleucia with the few men around him. Artabanus, having wrought great slaughter in the rout to strike terror into the barbarians, withdrew to Ctesiphon with his forces and was now king of the Parthians.

Vonones fled into Armenia, and at first he set his hopes on that country and sent envoys to the Romans. But when Tiberius rejected him, both for his want of manly resolve and because of the threats of the Parthian king -- who was renewing his embassies with threats of war, there being no other way to secure a second kingdom, since the powerful men around Niphates in Armenia were now going over to Artabanus -- Vonones gave himself up to Silanus, the governor of Syria. Silanus, out of respect for his rank, kept him under guard in Syria, while Artabanus gave Armenia to Orodes, one of his own sons.

About this time Antiochus, king of Commagene, also died, and his people split into two factions over the notable men of the country, embassies coming from each side: the powerful wished to change the form of government into a province, while the common people wished to be ruled as a kingdom, according to their ancestral custom. The Senate voted to send Germanicus to set affairs in the east in order, fortune arranging for him the opportunity of his death; for once he had come to the east and set everything right, he was killed by poison at the hand of Piso, as has been related elsewhere.

Pilate, the governor of Judea, brought an army from Caesarea and stationed it in winter quarters at Jerusalem, with the intention of abolishing the laws of the Jews: he introduced into the city the busts of Caesar that were mounted on the military standards, though our law forbids the making of images. For this reason the earlier governors had always entered the city with standards that carried no such ornament. Pilate was the first to set up the images, bringing them into Jerusalem, and this he did without the people's knowledge, because it was done by night.

When they learned of it, they came in crowds to Caesarea and pleaded with him for many days to have the images removed. He would not yield, since to do so seemed to him an affront to Caesar; but as they would not give up their entreaty, on the sixth day he secretly stationed his soldiers under arms around the stadium where he held audience, and came out himself to his tribunal. The stadium had been arranged so as to conceal the waiting troops.

When the Jews again pressed their petition, at a given signal he had the soldiers surround them and threatened to inflict death upon them at once if they did not stop their clamor and go home. But they threw themselves face down on the ground, bared their throats, and declared they would gladly accept death rather than dare to transgress the wisdom of their laws. Pilate, astonished at the firmness of their devotion to the laws, at once had the images carried back from Jerusalem to Caesarea.

Pilate also brought a supply of water into Jerusalem, at the expense of the sacred funds, by drawing off the source of the stream from a distance of some two hundred stadia. The people were displeased at what was being done regarding the water, and many tens of thousands of them gathered and cried out against him, demanding that he stop the work he was so intent upon. Some also used abuse and heaped insults on the man, as a crowd is apt to do. He, however, had dressed a large number of soldiers in the Jews' own clothing, arming them with clubs concealed beneath their garments, and sent them out to surround the people; he then ordered the crowd itself to disperse. When they turned to hurling abuse, he gave his soldiers the signal that had been agreed upon beforehand.

They set upon them with blows far heavier than Pilate had ordered, striking without distinction those who were rioting and those who were not; and the people, bringing nothing to defend themselves, were caught unarmed by men who had come prepared, so that many of them died on the spot from this, and others withdrew wounded. And so the uprising came to an end.

About this time there lived Jesus, a wise man, if indeed one ought to call him a man; for he was a doer of astonishing deeds, a teacher of people who receive the truth with pleasure, and he won over many Jews and many of the Greeks as well. He was the Christ. And when, on the indictment of the leading men among us, Pilate had condemned him to the cross, those who had loved him from the first did not cease to do so; for he appeared to them on the third day, alive again, the divine prophets having foretold this and countless other marvels about him. And to this day the tribe of the Christians, so named after him, has not disappeared.

About the same time another terrible thing threw the Jews into an uproar, and events took place concerning the temple of Isis at Rome that were not free from disgraceful conduct. Having first made mention of the crime committed regarding the rites of Isis, I will then turn my account to what happened among the Jews.

Paulina was a woman of Rome, of ancestry no less distinguished for its rank than for the discipline of virtue she practiced beyond others of her time; her name stood high, she had great wealth, and she was, moreover, beautiful in form and at that age of life in which women take the greatest pride, while her whole manner of living was devoted to modesty. She was married to Saturninus, a man in every way to be compared with her for his own standing.

Decius Mundus, a man of great rank among the knights of that day, fell in love with her, and since her greater worth made her not to be won by gifts -- for even when he had sent presents amounting to a great sum, he saw them disregarded, and this only inflamed him the more -- he went so far as to promise two hundred thousand Attic drachmas for a single night with her. And when even this failed to bend her,

unable to bear the misfortune of his passion, he judged it best to end his life by starving himself, to put a stop to the evil that had seized him, and he had resolved on death of this kind and was proceeding to carry it out. Now Mundus had a freedwoman of his father's, named Ide, versed in every kind of wickedness, who was deeply distressed at the young man's decision to die -- for it was no secret that he would perish --

and she went to him and roused him with her words, holding out the promise of certain hopes, namely that meetings with Paulina could be arranged for him. He received her plea with delight, and she told him that she would need only fifty thousand for the winning over of the woman. Having thus revived the young man's spirits and taken the money he asked for, she did not proceed by the same means as those who had served him before,

since she saw that the woman could not be won by money at all; but knowing that she was deeply devoted to the worship of Isis, she devised the following scheme. She went to certain of the priests and, with great assurances -- and above all with a gift of money, two and a half myriads at once, and as much again should the affair succeed -- she revealed to them the young man's passion, urging them by every means

to see that the woman was won for the one who would have her. They, led on by the prospect of the gold, promised their help. And the eldest of them, having pressed his way in to see Paulina once he had gained admittance, asked to speak with her alone. When this was granted, he told her he had come sent by Anubis, who, overcome by love of her, bade her come to him. This message was welcome to her, and she

boasted to her friends of being thus honored by the claim of Anubis, and told her husband that a dinner and a night with Anubis had been announced to her; he consented, knowing well his wife's virtue. So she went to the temple, and after dining, when it was time for sleep, the doors were shut by the priest, the lamps within the shrine were put out, and

Mundus, who had hidden himself there beforehand, did not fail to have intercourse with her, and served her the whole night through, she supposing him to be the god. And when he had departed, before the priests who knew of the plot had begun to stir, Paulina went early to her husband and told him of the epiphany of Anubis, and boasted of it in glowing words to her friends. They,

looking at the nature of the thing, disbelieved it in part, while in part they were struck with wonder, not knowing how they could judge it incredible, when they considered her modesty and her rank. On the third day after the deed Mundus met her and said, "Paulina, you have saved me two hundred thousand drachmas, though you might have added that sum to your own house, and yet you did not fail to render the service

for which I first solicited you. As for the insult you sought to inflict on Mundus, I care nothing for names, but only for the pleasure got from the affair -- I gave myself the name of Anubis." With these words he departed, and she, coming only then to understand the enormity of what had been done to her, tore her garment and, telling her husband the full extent of the whole plot, begged him not

to overlook it, but to see that she got redress. He reported the affair to the emperor. Tiberius, once he had made careful inquiry, examined the priests under torture, crucified them along with Ide, who had caused the ruin and had contrived the whole scheme to the woman's dishonor, tore down the temple, and ordered the statue of Isis thrown into the Tiber river. Mundus he punished only

with exile, judging that his offense, having been committed out of passion, was reason enough not to punish him more severely. Such were the outrages committed against the priests in connection with the temple of Isis. I return now to the account of what befell the Jews at Rome at this same time, as my narrative had already indicated it would. There was a Jewish man, a fugitive from his own country on a charge

of transgressing certain laws and from fear of the punishment due for them, thoroughly wicked in every way. At that time, living in Rome, he professed to expound the wisdom of the laws of Moses, and having gained three men wholly like himself in every respect, when Fulvia, a woman of high rank who had come over to the Jewish observances, began to frequent them, they persuaded her to send purple and gold to the

temple in Jerusalem; and having received these, they used them for their own expenses, which had been the very purpose for which the request was made in the first place. Tiberius -- for Saturninus, a friend of his and Fulvia's husband, informed him of it at his wife's urging -- ordered the whole Jewish population expelled from Rome. The consuls conscripted four thousand of them into the army and sent them to Sardinia,

the island, while they punished many more who refused military service out of regard for their ancestral laws. So it was that because of the wickedness of four men the Jews were driven out of the city. Nor was the nation of the Samaritans free of disturbance: a man stirred them up who made light of falsehood and, to please the crowd, contrived every kind of scheme, calling on them to gather with him on Mount Gerizim,

which they hold to be the most sacred of mountains, and he assured those who came that he would show them the sacred vessels buried there, which Moses had deposited in that very place. They believed the story plausible and came armed, and encamping in a certain village called Tirathana, they took in those who kept joining them, intending to make the ascent of the mountain with a great multitude. But Pilate got ahead of their ascent by occupying the position beforehand

with a column of cavalry and infantry, who engaged those who had already assembled in the village; in the battle that followed some they killed, others they put to flight, and many they took captive alive, of whom Pilate put to death the ringleaders and the most influential among those who had fled. When the disturbance had been put down, the council of the Samaritans went to Vitellius, a man of consular rank who held the governorship of Syria, and

accused Pilate of the slaughter of those who had died; for they said they had come to Tirathana not to revolt from Rome but to escape the outrage of Pilate. Vitellius sent Marcellus, one of his friends, to take charge of affairs for the Jews, and ordered Pilate to go to Rome to answer to the emperor for the charges the Samaritans were bringing. So Pilate, after spending ten years in Judea, hastened to Rome,

obeying the orders of Vitellius, which he could not refuse. But before he could reach Rome, Tiberius had already passed away. Vitellius, coming to Judea, went up to Jerusalem; and since it was their ancestral feast, called Passover, Vitellius was received with great magnificence. He remitted the taxes on the produce that was bought and sold, for all the inhabitants of the region, and he also granted that the vestments of the

high priest, together with all his adornment, which was kept in the temple, should remain in the charge of the priests, just as had been their right before. At that time it was kept in the Antonia, as the fortress there is called, its deposit there having come about for the following reason: one of the priests, Hyrcanus -- there having been many who bore that name, this being the first -- once he

had built a residence close to the temple, spent most of his time there and kept the vestments with him, for he was its guardian, since he alone had been granted the right to wear it; there he kept it stored away, and whenever he went down into the city he would resume his ordinary dress. And his sons practiced the same custom, as did their children after them. But when Herod became king, he took over that residence

This vestment, finding it conveniently placed, Herod had rebuilt at great expense and named Antonia, in honor of his friendship with Antony, and he kept the robe stored there just as he had received it, confident that the people would attempt no revolution against him because of it. Archelaus, the king who succeeded him, his son, did the same, and after him the Romans, once they had taken over the government, kept the high priest's robe stored in a stone chamber, sealed by the priests and the treasurers, while the captain of the guard lit a lamp there every day. Seven days before a festival it was handed over to them by the captain of the guard, and after the high priest had used it in the purification rite, on the day following the festival he put it away again in the chamber where it had lain before. This was done at each of the three festivals every year, and also at the fast.

Vitellius, however, out of regard for our ancestral custom, made the robe available, instructing the captain of the guard not to concern himself with where it lay or when it might be needed. Having done this as a benefit to the nation, he also removed the high priest Joseph, called Caiaphas, from the priesthood and appointed Jonathan, son of Ananus the high priest, in his place. He then set out again for Antioch.

Tiberius also sent a letter to Vitellius ordering him to make friendship with Artabanus, king of the Parthians, for Artabanus, being hostile and having seized Armenia, alarmed him, and he feared he might do further harm. Tiberius said he could trust in the friendship only if hostages were given him, above all the son of Artabanus. Writing this to Vitellius, Tiberius also persuaded, with large gifts of money, the king of the Iberians and the king of the Albanians not to hesitate to make war on Artabanus.

They themselves held back, but the Alani, granting the Iberians and Albanians passage through their territory and opening the Caspian Gates, brought them in against Artabanus. Armenia was seized from him again, and as the land of the Parthians was filled with wars, the foremost of the men there were killed, and everything was thrown into ruin for them, and the king's own son fell in these battles along with many tens of thousands of the army.

Vitellius, by a lavish distribution of money to the king's relatives and friends, was on the point of having Artabanus himself killed through those who had taken the bribes. But Artabanus, perceiving the plot, and recognizing that it could not be escaped since it had been formed by many, including the foremost men, and that it would not be dropped until it was carried through, and believing that even those who still seemed to stand by him faithfully were either already corrupted and only feigning goodwill through deceit, or would go over to the rebels once tested, saved himself by fleeing to one of the upper satrapies. After this he gathered a large army of the Dahae and the Sacae, made war on those who opposed him, and recovered his kingdom.

When Tiberius heard this, he desired that friendship be made with Artabanus after all, and since Artabanus too, when invited, gladly accepted the proposal concerning it, Artabanus and Vitellius came to the Euphrates. A bridge was thrown across the river, and each met the other at its very center, each with his own guard. When words of agreement had passed between them, Herod the tetrarch entertained them, having had a costly pavilion set up in the middle of the crossing.

Artabanus then sent Tiberius his son Darius as a hostage, along with many gifts, among them a man seven cubits tall, a Jew by birth named Eleazar, who because of his size was called the Giant. After this Vitellius went off to Antioch and Artabanus to Babylonia.

Herod, wishing to be the first to bring word to Caesar of the receiving of the hostages, sent off couriers, having written everything precisely in a letter, leaving nothing out for the consul to report. But when letters arrived from Vitellius as well, and Caesar signified to him that word of the matter had already reached him earlier, since Herod had sent notice of it first, Vitellius was greatly disturbed, and, supposing he had suffered a greater slight than had actually been done to him, concealed his anger against Herod, keeping it hidden, until he took his revenge after Gaius had succeeded to the rule of the Romans.

At that time Philip, Herod's brother, died, in the twentieth year of Tiberius's reign, having himself governed Trachonitis, Gaulanitis, and the nation of the Batanaeans in addition for thirty-seven years, and having shown himself moderate and unconcerned with trouble in his rule. He spent his whole life in the territory subject to him, and when he made his rounds he was accompanied by only a few chosen men, and had his throne, on which he used to sit in judgment, carried with him on the roads, so that whenever someone met him in need of assistance, there was no delay: the throne was set up on the spot, wherever it happened to be, and sitting there he heard the case at once, imposed penalties on the guilty, and released those unjustly caught up in accusations. He died at Julias, and after his body was brought to the tomb which he himself had built earlier, a costly funeral was held. Since he left no children, Tiberius took over his rule and made it an addition to the province of Syria, though he ordered that the taxes collected in what had been his tetrarchy be kept apart and deposited there.

At this time a quarrel broke out between Aretas, king of Petra, and Herod, for the following reason. Herod the tetrarch had married the daughter of Aretas and had lived with her for a long time already. Setting out for Rome, he lodged with Herod, his brother by a different mother, for this Herod was the son of the daughter of Simon the high priest. There he fell in love with Herodias, the wife of this brother.

She was the daughter of Aristobulus, who was also their brother, and sister of Agrippa the Great, and Herod ventured to speak with her of marriage. She accepted, and an agreement was made that she would move in with him once he returned from Rome; part of the agreement was that he would put away the daughter of Aretas. Having made these arrangements, he sailed for Rome. But when he was returning, having accomplished in Rome the business for which he had gone, his wife, having learned of the agreement with Herodias, before it became known to him that she knew everything, asked to be sent to Machaerus, which lies on the border between the territory of Aretas and that of Herod, without revealing her intention. Herod sent her off, not suspecting that the woman had perceived anything.

She, however, had already sent word ahead to Machaerus, which was subject to her father, and with everything prepared for the journey by the governor, she arrived and at once set out for Arabia, passing from one governor's escort to the next in succession, and came to her father as quickly as possible and told him of Herod's intention. He took this as the beginning of hostility, which was joined also by a dispute over borders in the territory of Gamala.

Each side gathered forces for war and appointed generals to command in their place, and when the battle took place, Herod's entire army was destroyed, betrayed by men who were deserters from Philip's tetrarchy and had campaigned alongside Herod. Herod wrote of this to Tiberius, who, angered at Aretas's aggression, wrote to Vitellius to make war on him, and either bring him back alive in chains, or, if he were killed, send his head to him. This is what Tiberius directed the governor of Syria to do.

Some of the Jews thought that the destruction of Herod's army came from God, and quite justly, in punishment for what he had done to John, called the Baptist. For Herod had put him to death, though he was a good man, one who urged the Jews to practice virtue, to act with justice toward one another and with piety toward God, and so to come together in baptism. For only in this way, he taught, would the baptism itself appear acceptable to God, not as employed to beg pardon for certain sins, but as a purification of the body, seeing that the soul too had already been thoroughly cleansed beforehand by righteousness.

When others too began to gather around him, since they were extremely stirred by the hearing of his words, Herod grew afraid that persuasion of this degree over men might lead to some uprising, since they seemed likely to do everything on his advice, and thought it far better to act first and put him to death, before any change came about through him, than to fall into difficulties and then have to regret it once the revolt had actually happened. So John, a prisoner sent to Machaerus, the fortress mentioned above, on suspicion born of Herod, was put to death there. The Jews believed that the destruction of the army came about as vengeance on Herod's behalf, God wishing to do him harm.

Vitellius, having prepared for the war against Aretas with two legions of heavy infantry along with their light troops and cavalry drawn as allies from the kingdoms subject to Rome, hastened toward Petra and reached Ptolemais. As he was setting out to lead the army through Judea, the leading men met him and asked that he not take that route through their country, for it was not their ancestral custom to permit standards to be carried through it, since many images were mounted on them. Persuaded, he changed the plan he had previously formed on this point, and ordering the army to march through the great plain, he himself went up to Jerusalem with Herod the tetrarch and his friends to sacrifice to God, since a festival of the ancestral kind for the Jews was then in progress.

There he was met and received magnificently by the multitude of the Jews, and spent three days in the city; during this time he removed Jonathan from the high priesthood and handed it over to his brother Theophilus. On the fourth day, letters arrived informing him of the death of Tiberius, and he made the people swear allegiance to Gaius. He also recalled the army to its several winter quarters, no longer being able to press the war in the same way, since affairs had now passed into the hands of Gaius.

It was also said that Aretas, on receiving report of Vitellius's soldiers, consulted the omens and declared that it was not possible for the army to make its way against Petra, for one of the leaders would die, either the one who had ordered the war, or the one who had set out to carry out his intention, or the one against whom the expedition had been prepared. And so Vitellius withdrew to Antioch.

Agrippa, the son of Aristobulus, went up to Rome a year before Tiberius's death, to transact some business with the emperor, once he had come into possession of some means. I wish, then, to speak at greater length about Herod and his family, both because the account belongs to this history, and because it affords a demonstration of the divine, showing that neither numbers nor any other strength that men achieve avails anything apart from piety toward the divine -- seeing that within a hundred years of his death, but for a few, and there were many of them, Herod's descendants perished. This might also contribute something to the correction of the human race, to learn of their misfortune, and at the same time it allows the story of Agrippa to be told, a man most deserving of wonder, who from being an utterly private citizen, and beyond all expectation of those who knew him, rose to such a degree of power. I have spoken of these matters before, but I will now set them out again in precise detail.

Herod the Great had two daughters by Mariamme, the daughter of Hyrcanus: Salampsio, the one, who was married to Phasael her own cousin, son of Herod's brother Phasael, her father having given her to him; and Cypros, likewise married to her cousin Antipater, son of Herod's sister Salome. To Phasael, Salampsio bore five children: Antipater, Alexander, Herod, and daughters Alexandra and Cypros, whom Agrippa, son of Aristobulus, married. Alexandra was married to Timius of Cyprus, a man of distinction, and died childless in his house. To Cypros, by Agrippa, were born two sons and three daughters, Berenice, Mariamme, and Drusilla, the sons being named Agrippa and Drusus, of whom Drusus died before reaching manhood. Their father Agrippa was raised together with his other brothers, Herod and Aristobulus, and Berenice, and these were the children of Herod, son of the Great. Berenice was the daughter of Costobarus and Salome, Herod's sister. Aristobulus, when he died at his father's hand, left these as infants, along with his brother Alexander, as we have said before. Having grown to manhood, this Herod, brother of Agrippa, married Mariamme, daughter of Olympias, daughter of King Herod, and of Joseph, son of Joseph, this Joseph being brother of King Herod; and he had by her a son, Aristobulus. The third brother of Agrippa, Aristobulus, married Jotape, daughter of Sampsigeramus, king of Emesa, and a daughter was born to them who was deaf; her name too was Jotape. These, then, were the children of the male line.

Herodias, their sister, was married to Herod, a son of Herod the Great by Mariamme, daughter of Simon the high priest, and they had a daughter, Salome; after her birth, Herodias, resolving upon a confusion of ancestral custom, left her husband while he was still alive and married Herod, his brother by the same father, who held the tetrarchy of Galilee. Her daughter Salome was married to Philip, son of Herod the tetrarch of Trachonitis, and when he died childless, Aristobulus, son of Herod, Agrippa's brother, married her. Three sons were born to them: Herod, Agrippa, and Aristobulus. This, then, is the line of Phasael and Salampsio.

To Cypros, by Antipater, a daughter was born, Cypros, whom Alexas, son of Elcias the son of Alexas, married, and her daughter too was named Cypros. Herod and Alexander, whom I said were Antipater's brothers, died childless. To Alexander, Herod the king's son, who was put to death by his father, sons were born, Alexander and Tigranes, by the daughter of Archelaus, king of Cappadocia. Tigranes, who became king of Armenia, died childless after being accused before the Romans. Alexander, his namesake and Tigranes' brother, had a son who became king of Armenia under Nero, and he too had a son, Alexander. This Alexander married Jotape, daughter of Antiochus, king of Commagene, and Vespasian set him up as king over a part of Cilicia. The line of Alexander, as soon as it was born, abandoned the observances proper to the Jews and went over to Greek custom, while it fell to the remaining daughters of King Herod to die childless. Of the descendants of Herod whom I have listed, those who remained were still living when

...at the time when Agrippa the Great took over the kingdom. Now that I have set out the family in advance, I will go on to relate all the turns of fortune that came Agrippa's way, and how, after escaping them, he rose to the very height of both rank and power. A little before King Herod's death, Agrippa was living in Rome. He had grown up alongside Drusus, the son of the emperor Tiberius, and through their close familiarity and long companionship he had also won the friendship of Antonia, the wife of Drusus the elder, since Berenice, Agrippa's mother, was held in honor by her and had asked her to advance her son.

Agrippa was naturally inclined to grandeur and lavish in his giving. While his mother was alive he did not reveal what his heart wanted, since he thought it right to escape her anger at such things; but once Berenice died, he gave free rein to his own temperament. He spent his money partly on the extravagance of his daily living and partly on gifts given without measure, and the greatest part of it went to Caesar's freedmen, in hope of what their influence might do for him, so that in a short time he was reduced to poverty. This was what kept him from living any longer in Rome. Tiberius, moreover, since his son had died, had forbidden his son's friends to come into his sight, because seeing them stirred up his grief by reminding him of the boy.

For these reasons, then, Agrippa set sail for Judea, in low spirits and humbled, having lost his fortune and having no way to pay off his debts to his many creditors, who allowed him no relief whatsoever. So, at a loss what to do and ashamed before them, he withdrew to a certain tower at Malatha in Idumea, where he was of a mind to end his own life. His wife Cypros perceived his intention and did everything she could to turn him from such plans. She also sent letters to his sister Herodias, who was living with Herod the tetrarch, explaining the straits Agrippa had fallen into and the necessity that had driven him to such a plan, and asking her, as a kinswoman, to look on and help, showing in every way how she might relieve her husband, especially since their circumstances had once been so similar.

Herod and Herodias sent for him, appointed Tiberias as his residence, granted him a sum of money for his upkeep, and honored him with the market-inspectorship of Tiberias. Herod, however, did not long abide by these arrangements, insufficient as they already were. At a drinking party in Tyre, words were exchanged between them under the influence of wine, and Agrippa, unable to bear it after Herod had reproached him with his poverty and with having to be given the necessities of life, went to Flaccus, the man of consular rank, who had earlier been a particular friend of his in Rome and who was at that time governing Syria.

Flaccus received him, and Agrippa was staying with him there, along with Aristobulus, who, although Agrippa's brother, was at odds with him. Their mutual enmity did no harm to either, so that the ordinary marks of the consular's friendship were shown to both alike. Aristobulus, however, did not relax his hostility toward Agrippa in the least, and eventually brought him into conflict with Flaccus as well, taking as his occasion for this ill will the following affair.

The people of Damascus were at odds with those of Sidon over a boundary dispute, and when Flaccus was about to hear the case, they learned that Agrippa carried great weight with him and asked that some part of their cause be entrusted to him, promising him a very large sum of money for it. He, for his part, set about doing everything he could to help the Damascenes. But Aristobulus, since the agreement about the money had not escaped his notice, denounced him to Flaccus.

When the matter was investigated and found to be true, Flaccus drove Agrippa from his friendship. Reduced to the utmost want, Agrippa came to Ptolemais, and since he had no means of living anywhere else, he resolved to sail for Italy. But being shut out by lack of funds, he asked Marsyas, his own freedman, to raise money for such purposes for him by borrowing from someone.

Marsyas accordingly asked Peter, a freedman of Berenice, Agrippa's mother, who by the terms of her will was under obligation to Antonia, to advance the sum himself on a note of hand and his own credit. Peter, since he had a claim against Agrippa for money owed him, forced Marsyas to draw up a bond for twenty thousand Attic drachmas, taking two thousand five hundred less than that amount. Marsyas agreed to this, since there was no other way to manage it.

Once this sum had been secured, Agrippa went to Anthedon, took ship, and was on the point of putting to sea. But Herennius Capito, the procurator of Jamnia, learning of it, sent soldiers to collect from him three hundred thousand drachmas of silver owed to Caesar's treasury from his time in Rome, and pressed him to stay. Agrippa at the time pretended he would comply with the order,

but when night came he cut his moorings and made for Alexandria, sailing on. There he asked Alexander the alabarch to lend him two hundred thousand drachmas. Alexander said he would not give it to him, but he did not refuse Cypros, being struck by her devotion to her husband and by all her other virtues besides. She gave her pledge, and Alexander, having given them five talents at Alexandria,

promised to provide the rest once they reached Puteoli, being wary of how ready Agrippa was to spend. So Cypros, having set her husband on his way to Italy, herself returned with the children to Judea. Agrippa, putting in at Puteoli, wrote a letter to Tiberius Caesar, who was residing at Capri, announcing his arrival and asking to pay his respects and see him,

and requesting permission to cross over to Capri. Tiberius, without any hesitation, wrote back to him in the most gracious terms, and when Agrippa duly arrived at Capri, showing nothing lacking in the warmth of his letter, he welcomed him and entertained him. But the next day a letter reached Caesar from Herennius Capito,

stating that Agrippa, having taken a loan of three hundred thousand drachmas and let the agreed time for repayment lapse, had fled the province the moment repayment was demanded, thereby putting himself beyond his power to collect it. Reading this letter, Caesar was greatly displeased and ordered that Agrippa be barred from his presence until he had paid the debt.

Agrippa, not in the least daunted by Caesar's anger, appealed to Antonia, mother of Germanicus and of Claudius, who later became Caesar, asking her to lend him the three hundred thousand drachmas, so that he might not forfeit his friendship with Tiberius. She, remembering his mother Berenice — for the two women had been very close to each other — and because of the intimacy that had grown up between Agrippa and Claudius's circle, gave him

the money, and once he had paid off the debt, his friendship with Tiberius stood unimpeded. Tiberius Caesar afterward assigned him to his grandson, instructing him to accompany the boy on all his outings. Agrippa, received into Antonia's friendship, then turned his attentions to Gaius, who was her grandson and, out of regard for his father, held in the highest honor. There was

also another man, a Samaritan by birth, a freedman of Caesar's. From him Agrippa raised a loan of a million drachmas, with which he repaid the debt owed to Antonia, and with the rest, spent in courting Gaius, he rose all the higher in his esteem. As Agrippa's friendship with Gaius grew to great importance, the two of them, talking together one day, fell into conversation about Tiberius, and Agrippa,

turning the talk into a wish, since they were alone together, said he prayed that Tiberius, the old man, might soon step down from power and hand it over to Gaius, who was in every way more worthy of it, for then Tiberius's own grandson would be no obstacle to them, since he would die at Gaius's hand. Eutychus, a freedman of Agrippa's and his charioteer, overheard these words and at the time kept silent about them. But afterward, accused by Agrippa of stealing some garments of his — and indeed he had truly stolen them — he fled, was caught, and was brought before Piso, who was the

prefect of the city. When Piso asked the reason for his flight, he said he had secret words to speak to Caesar, bearing on Caesar's own safety; so Piso had him bound and sent to Capri. There Tiberius, true to his own character, kept him in chains, being as much given to delay as any king or tyrant who ever lived. He never gave prompt audience to embassies,

nor was any successor appointed for governors or procurators he had sent out, unless they happened to die first; hence he was equally indifferent about hearing the cases of prisoners. So when his friends asked him the reason for this way of dragging things out, he said that he put off embassies so that, once they had been given prompt dismissal, other envoys freshly appointed would come in their place, and he would be burdened with receiving and escorting them over and over again;

and that he left governorships to those who had once been appointed to them, out of consideration for their subjects — for it is the nature of every position of authority to be inclined toward greed, and those that are not held permanently, but only briefly and uncertainly, until the moment they are taken away, only spur those who hold them on to plunder all the more. If, then, they remained in office longer, they would in time have their fill of plundering, since the sheer volume of what they had already gained would make them use their position more sluggishly thereafter;

whereas if a successor came quickly, those subject to greedy governors would never gain any relief, since the time allowed would not be enough for those already sated to relax their eagerness to take, precisely because they were removed before they had had their fill in due time. And he told them this story to illustrate the point: a wounded man lay

with flies swarming in great numbers around his wounds. Someone who happened by, pitying his misfortune and supposing that he lacked the strength to help himself, came up and set about driving the flies away. When the wounded man asked him to stop doing this, the man was puzzled and asked him why he showed no concern to escape the evil that beset him. "You would do me a greater wrong," he said, "by driving them off.

These flies here, now that they are already gorged with my blood, no longer press me so hard, but in a way even ease off. But if fresh ones came together, driven by unspent hunger, and found me already worn down, they would finish me off entirely." For this reason, he said, he himself, mindful that his subjects had already been ruined by so much plundering, thought it prudent not to keep sending out new governors one after another, who would harry them in the manner of these flies,

since men naturally bent on gain, once they took office, would have as their ally the expectation that their pleasure in it would soon be taken away. Tiberius's own conduct will bear out what I say about his character in such matters: for in the twenty-two years he was emperor, he sent out only two men in all to govern the Jewish nation and administer its affairs, Gratus and Pilate, who succeeded him in the office. And he was not

only such toward the Jews, but different toward the rest of his subjects as well. Even in the case of prisoners, he made plain how far his reluctance to give them a hearing went, in that for men condemned to death, execution would have brought relief from the evils pressing upon them, since it is not for any virtue of theirs that such a fate comes upon them by chance, while for those left to be worn down, the lingering weight upon them only made their misfortune the greater. It was for these reasons, then, that Eutychus too

failed to obtain a hearing and remained bound in chains. But as time passed, Tiberius came from Capri to Tusculum, about a hundred stadia from Rome, and Agrippa asked Antonia to arrange a hearing for Eutychus on the charges he was bringing against him. Antonia was held in the highest honor by Tiberius, both for the dignity of her kinship — for she

was the wife of his brother Drusus — and for her virtue and self-restraint; for though still young when widowed, she remained so, and refused to marry another, even though Augustus himself had urged her to marry someone, and she kept her life free of scandal. She had also, in her own right, been of the greatest service to Tiberius personally: for when a great conspiracy was formed against him by Sejanus, a man who was both his friend and at that time held the greatest power, because he

commanded the armies, and most of the senate as well as many of the freedmen had gone over to him, and the soldiery had been corrupted, and the conspiracy was making great headway and might well have succeeded, had not Antonia met Sejanus's villainy with a boldness wiser than his cunning. For when she learned what had been contrived against Tiberius, she wrote to him

setting out everything in detail, and giving the letter to Pallas, the most trustworthy of her slaves, sent it off to Tiberius at Capri. He, on learning of it, put Sejanus and his fellow conspirators to death, and held Antonia, whom even before he had regarded highly, in still greater honor thereafter, and trusted her in all things. It was at the urging of this same Antonia that Tiberius, though reluctant,

agreed to examine Eutychus. "If Eutychus has spoken falsely," said Tiberius, "about what Agrippa is said to have said, he will receive from me punishment enough, which I myself have already imposed on him. But if, under torture, what he has said proves true, let Agrippa take care that in his eagerness to punish his freedman he does not call down the trial on his own head instead." When Antonia reported this to him, Agrippa pressed all the more insistently for the matter to be examined,

and Antonia, since Agrippa would not let up in his entreaties on this score, seized an occasion of the following kind. Tiberius was being carried along on a litter, with Gaius, her grandson, and Agrippa walking alongside; they had just come from lunch. Walking beside the litter, she urged that Eutychus be summoned and examined. Tiberius said, "Antonia, let the gods be my witness that it is not

of my own will, but drawn out by the necessity of your entreaty, that I do what I am about to do." So saying, he ordered Macro, who was Sejanus's successor, to bring Eutychus. He came without any delay. Tiberius asked him what he had to say against a man who had given him his freedom. Eutychus said, "Master, Gaius here and Agrippa with him were riding along in a carriage,

and I was sitting at their feet, and as much talk went round, Agrippa said to Gaius: 'If only the day would come when this old man stepped aside and appointed you ruler of the world; for then Tiberius, his grandson, would be no obstacle to us at all, since he would die at your hands, and the world would be blessed, and I along with

Tiberius took what had been said as trustworthy, and it also recalled to him an old grudge against Agrippa: when he had ordered Agrippa to pay court to Tiberius his grandson, the son of Drusus, Agrippa had treated him with contempt, ignoring the summons and going over entirely to Gaius's side. "This man," he said, "Macro, put him in chains." Macro did not clearly understand whom he had been ordered to bind, and besides, he did not expect any such order to concern Agrippa, so he held back to make sure he had understood correctly. But when Caesar, having made a circuit of the hippodrome, found Agrippa standing there, he said, "Macro, it is indeed this man I said should be bound." When Macro asked again which man, he said, "Agrippa, of course."

Agrippa turned to entreaty, invoking the memory of the boy with whom he had been raised and of Tiberius's own upbringing, but it did him no good at all — they led him off in his purple robes, a prisoner. The heat was fierce, and since he had not drunk much wine with his meal, thirst burned in him; his anguish was made worse by the indignity of it all. Seeing one of Gaius's slaves, a boy named Thaumastus, carrying water in a vessel, he asked to drink.

When the boy readily held it out and Agrippa had drunk, he said, "Boy, if this service of yours turns out well for you, once I am free of these chains I will lose no time in securing your freedom from Gaius, since he showed no less regard for me now, a prisoner, than when I held my former rank."

And he did not fail to make good on this word — indeed he repaid it more than in kind. For later, when he had become king, he had Thaumastus freed — Gaius Caesar by then having granted this — and set him over his estate; and when he died, in that same office of honor, an old man, he left him behind still in service to his son Agrippa and his daughter Berenice on the same terms. But that all belongs to a later time. Agrippa, then, stood there in chains before the palace, leaning against a tree out of despondency, along with many others who were likewise bound.

A bird settled on the tree against which Agrippa was leaning — the Romans call this bird an owl — and one of the prisoners, a German, saw it and asked the soldier who the man in the purple robe was. On learning that his name was Agrippa, that he was a Jew by birth, and one of the most eminent men of that nation, he asked the soldier chained beside him if he might come near and speak with him, saying he wished to ask him something concerning his ancestral customs. Given leave, he came close and, through an interpreter, said:

"Young man, the suddenness of this change that has come upon you, bringing with it so great and abrupt a reversal of fortune, no doubt shakes you, and you distrust any words that promise deliverance from the trouble now upon you, thinking them to deny the workings of divine providence. But know this: by the gods of my own fathers and the gods native to this place, who have set this iron upon us, I swear I will tell you everything, giving no license to an idle, glib tongue, nor seeking merely to cheer you with empty words. For predictions of this kind, when the event that should confirm them is delayed, only add a harsher grief than if one had never heard them at all. Still, I judge it right, even at risk to myself, to disclose to you the gods' foretelling. There is no way that you will not be released from these bonds very soon, and advanced to the very height of rank and power; you will become the envy of all who now pity your misfortune, and you will make a happy end for the children you will leave behind you in life. But remember, when you next see this bird, that your death will follow five days after. This will come to pass exactly as this bird, sent forth by God, signifies. I did not think it right to withhold from you the understanding that has come to me by foreknowledge of these things, so that, knowing that good is to come, you might set the grief of your present state at a lighter weight. And remember, once the good fortune has come into your hands, the misfortune we now share together as well, so that you may free me from it."

So much did the German foretell, and he earned from Agrippa such laughter at the time as, by later events, proved him worthy of wonder instead. Antonia, distressed at Agrippa's misfortune, saw that speaking to Tiberius about him would be a difficult matter and in any case likely to come to nothing; but she did secure from Macro that a moderate number of soldiers be assigned to watch over him with care, and a centurion to be set over them and to share his confinement, that he be allowed a daily bath, and visits from his freedmen and friends, and every other comfort that could be given his body.

So his friend Silas and his freedmen Marsyas and Stoichus came in to him, bringing food he enjoyed and attending to him with every care, and bringing garments too, under pretense of selling them, which at nightfall, with the soldiers' connivance — Macro having arranged it beforehand — they spread beneath him. This went on for six months. Such was Agrippa's situation. Meanwhile Tiberius, having returned to Capri, fell ill — at first only moderately.

But as the sickness grew worse, and he had little hope for himself, he summoned Euodus, who was most honored among his freedmen, and ordered him to bring the children to him, for he wished to speak with them before he died. He had no legitimate children left of his own — Drusus, his only son, had died — but Drusus had left a son, Tiberius, called Gemellus, and there was also Gaius, son of Germanicus, his brother's son, already a young man who had completed his education to the fullest, and who was honored by the goodwill of the people on account of the virtue of his father Germanicus. For Germanicus had risen to the very greatest honor among the common people, through the steadiness of his character and his graciousness in dealing with others, being unassuming and winning esteem by his wish to be equal to all.

Because of this, not only did the people and the senate hold him in the highest regard, but so did every one of the subject nations — some who had dealt with him directly, won over by the charm of meeting him, others who had heard of it from report and took it up in turn. When he died, mourning was proclaimed for him among all, not out of any pretended grief in deference to the government, but from genuine sorrow, since each felt his death as a loss peculiarly their own — so unassumingly had he dealt with people. From this a great advantage was left to his son as well among everyone, and especially the army was devoted to him, counting it a point of honor that the succession should fall to him, and being ready to die for it if need be.

Tiberius gave Euodus instructions that on the following day, at dawn, he should bring the children in to him; and he prayed to his ancestral gods to show him some clear sign as to who should succeed to the rule. He was eager to leave it to his grandson, but he trusted more to what God would reveal on the matter than to his own judgment or wish. The omen he set for himself was this: that the rule should go to whichever of the two came to him first the next morning. Having resolved this, he sent to the tutor of his grandson, telling him to bring the boy to him at the first hour, believing that God would take care of the matter of succession himself; but God voted against his choice.

Having settled on this plan, as soon as day came he ordered Euodus to call in whichever of the boys was present first. Going out, Euodus found Gaius before the chamber — Tiberius the grandson was not there, his nurse having kept him occupied, and Euodus knew nothing of what his master intended — and said, "Your father calls you," and brought him in. When Tiberius saw Gaius, he came for the first time to a full realization of the divine power at work, and that the succession had been entirely taken out of his hands, that whatever he might decree would need confirming by another authority not granted to him from that quarter.

He lamented at length, that the power to ratify his own deliberations had been taken from him, and that Tiberius his grandson would lose both the rule of Rome and his own safety, since he would have to live alongside one who could not bear the presence of a rival close to him in rank, and who, moved by fear and hatred toward one standing so near the throne, would use every means against him — partly as against a claimant to power, partly to forestall any counterplot — and would not let go until he had secured both his own safety and full possession of affairs. Tiberius was also greatly devoted to astrology, and, from its having proved true for him more than for others given to it, he had come to stake his whole life upon it. So once, seeing Galba approaching, he said to those closest to him that a man was coming who would one day contend for the rule of Rome. Regarding all such predictions as reliable, he above all men in power relied on them once their truth was borne out by events. And now he was in great distress at what had happened, grieving bitterly as though his grandson were already dead, and reproaching himself for his own foresight in reading the omens —

for he might have died free of grief, in ignorance of what was to come, but instead had to go on living with the foreknowledge of the coming misfortune of those dearest to him. Yet, troubled as he was by this unwelcome turn of the succession toward one he had not wished, unwillingly and reluctantly he nonetheless said to Gaius:

"My boy, though Tiberius is nearer kin to me than you are, by my own judgment, and by the concurring will of the gods in the matter, I hand over to you the rule of Rome. I ask that in exercising it you forget neither my goodwill toward you, in setting you up to so great a height of honor, nor your kinship with Tiberius, but understand that it is through the gods, and after them through me, that I have made you the giver of such great goods, and that you repay my eagerness on your behalf, and at the same time have regard for Tiberius because of your kinship — knowing besides that Tiberius, if he survives, would be a bulwark to you both for your rule and for your own safety, but would become, if put out of the way, the beginning of misfortune. For isolation is dangerous for those set at the height of such great affairs, and the gods do not leave unpunished whatever is done against justice, in violation of the law that calls for acting otherwise."

So Tiberius spoke, but he did not persuade Gaius, even though Gaius made promises; rather, once established in power, Gaius did away with Tiberius through the very arts of divination that had raised him up, and not long after, having himself become the object of a conspiracy, he too died. Tiberius, having declared Gaius his successor in the rule, lived only a few more days and died, having held the empire himself for twenty-two years, five months, and three days. Gaius was the fourth emperor.

When word of Tiberius's death reached the Romans, they rejoiced at the good news, but they did not dare to believe it — not from any unwillingness, for they would have paid a great sum of money for the report to be confirmed true — but from fear that, if the report proved false, having risen up too soon to show their joy, they would then be destroyed once informed against. For this one man had done more terrible things to the Roman nobility than any other, being quick to anger against everyone and, once set on a course of action, impossible to appease, even taking up a cause for hatred without any reason at all, and being naturally savage in whatever he judged, imposing death as the penalty even for the lightest offenses. And so, though the pleasure of hearing such news drew them to enjoy it as much as they wished, they were held back by the dread of the harm that would follow should their hopes prove false.

But Marsyas, Agrippa's freedman, on learning of Tiberius's death, rushed off at a run to bring Agrippa the good news, and finding him coming out on his way to the bath, he leaned toward him and said in the Hebrew tongue, "The lion is dead."

Agrippa, grasping the sense of the words and overcome with joy at them, said, "May every kind of thanks be yours, for all things and for this good news besides, if only what is said is true." The centurion set to guard Agrippa, seeing the haste with which Marsyas had come and the joy that had come over Agrippa at his words, suspected that some new report had arrived, and asked them about the matter at hand. At first they turned the question aside, but when he pressed, Agrippa disclosed it — he was by now a friend — hiding nothing. The centurion, since the news brought good to Agrippa, shared in his pleasure at it, and set out a dinner for him.

While they were feasting and the drinking was going on, someone came in saying that Tiberius was alive and would return to the city within a few days. The centurion, terribly alarmed at this report, since he had done things that carried a death penalty — dining in comfort and joy with a prisoner over a report of the emperor's death — thrust Agrippa off his couch and said, "Do you suppose you can hide from me that you have deceived me with a false report of the emperor's death, at the cost of your own head, when this comes to light?" So saying, he ordered Agrippa bound — having earlier released him — and set a stricter guard over him than before. That night Agrippa remained in such distress.

The next day, however, the report grew stronger throughout the city, confirming Tiberius's death, and people now dared openly to speak of it freely, and some even offered sacrifices. Letters also arrived from Gaius — one to the senate, announcing Tiberius's death and his own succession to the rule, the other to Piso, the prefect of the city, saying the same, and ordering that Agrippa be moved out of the camp to the house where he had lived before he was bound.

From then on he conducted his affairs there with confidence; there was still guard and watch kept over him, but with relief now as to his manner of living. When Gaius arrived at Rome bringing Tiberius's body, he gave it a costly funeral according to ancestral custom, and that same day Agrippa —

Antonia was eager to free him but was blocked — not out of any hatred for the prisoner, but from concern for Gaius's dignity: it would look bad if a man Tiberius himself had imprisoned were released the moment word of his death arrived, as though out of sheer pleasure at the news. Still, not many days passed before Gaius sent for Agrippa, brought him into the palace, had him shaved and dressed in fresh clothes, and then set a diadem on his head, making him king over the tetrarchy of Philip and granting him the tetrarchy of Lysanias besides, and exchanging his iron chain for a gold one of equal weight. He also sent Marullus out as commander of cavalry over Judea.

In the second year of Gaius Caesar's reign, Agrippa asked leave to sail out, settle his kingdom in order, and then return once he had arranged everything else as it should be. The emperor granted it, and Agrippa arrived beyond anyone's hope, appearing to all as a king, and displaying to onlookers, who could reckon his former poverty against his present prosperity, how great a power fortune holds over men. Some counted him blessed for a fate that had not betrayed his hopes; others could not believe what had happened. But Herodias, Agrippa's sister, who lived with Herod — the tetrarch of Galilee and Perea — took his elevation as an injury, seeing her own husband raised to so much lesser a rank than a man who, forced to flee because he could not pay his debts, had now come home with such standing and such wealth.

So it galled her, and she bore it bitterly whenever she saw him going about among the crowds with the royal insignia now customary to him; she could not bear to hide her jealousy and misery, but goaded her husband, urging him to sail to Rome and press for equal honors — for life itself, she said, was unbearable to her if Agrippa, son of an Aristobulus condemned to death by his own father, and once reduced to such helpless poverty that his daily needs were barely met, and who had fled his creditors by sea, should now come home a king, while Herod himself, son of a king, and with his kinship to the throne calling him to claim the same, should sit content to live out his days as a private citizen.

"Even if before now, Herod, it never troubled you to hold a lesser rank than the father you were born to, seek now at least the honor that belongs to your family, and do not consent to being outdone by a man who has courted your wealth in place of honor. Do not let his poverty be shown to have made better use of our prosperity than we have, and do not think it beneath your shame to rank second to men who until yesterday and the day before lived only by our charity. Let us go to Rome, and let us spare neither effort nor expense of money and gold, since keeping watch over it serves no better purpose than being spent to secure a kingdom."

For a time he resisted, content with quiet and suspicious of the crowds of Rome, and tried to talk her out of it; but the more she saw him drawing back, the more fiercely she pressed him, insisting he do everything possible for the kingship, and in the end she did not relent until she had won him over, against his will, to share her purpose — since there was no other way to escape her decree on the matter. So, outfitting himself as lavishly as he could and sparing nothing, he set sail for Rome, taking Herodias with him. When Agrippa learned of their intent and their preparations, he too made ready, and once he heard they had put to sea, he sent his own freedman Fortunatus to Rome as well, carrying gifts to the emperor and letters against Herod, and also briefed to inform Gaius, when the moment was right, of what was needed.

Fortunatus, once he had put to sea, and having favorable sailing, so outstripped Herod's party that Fortunatus reached Gaius first, while Herod's ship was only then coming into harbor and delivering its letters. Both parties in the end put in at Dicaearchia and found Gaius at Baiae — itself a small town of Campania about five stadia from Dicaearchia, where there are royal residences built with great luxury, each emperor having vied to outdo his predecessors, and where the place provides hot baths, springing naturally from the earth, good both for the healing of those who use them and otherwise beneficial to a relaxed regimen.

Gaius, as he greeted Herod — for Herod was the first he met with — was at the same time going over Agrippa's letters, composed as an accusation against Herod. He charged him with having conspired with Sejanus against Tiberius's rule, and now with Artabanus the Parthian against the rule of Gaius, and as proof of this claim he cited the store of weapons kept in Herod's armories, sufficient to equip seventy thousand men. Gaius was shaken by these charges and asked Herod whether the report about the weapons was true. Herod, having no other answer to give — for the truth spoke against him — admitted that the weapons existed. Gaius, taking this as confirmation of the accusations of revolt, stripped him of his tetrarchy and added it to Agrippa's kingdom, and likewise gave Agrippa his money, while punishing Herod himself with permanent exile, appointing Lugdunum, a city of Gaul, as his place of residence.

When Gaius learned that Herodias was Agrippa's sister, he offered to let her keep whatever money was her own, and, thinking she should not share her husband's misfortune, told her that her brother would be her shelter. But she said, "You speak, Emperor, with the generosity and the dignity that befit you, but what stands in the way of my accepting the favor of your gift is my devotion to the man I married. Having shared his prosperity, it would not be right for me to abandon him now that fortune has turned against him." Angered at her nobility of spirit, Gaius banished her along with Herod, and gave her property to Agrippa. So it was that God punished Herodias for her jealousy of her brother, and Herod for having listened to a woman's foolish talk.

For his first year, and the one following, Gaius conducted affairs with great magnanimity, presenting himself with moderation, and won great goodwill both among the Romans themselves and among their subjects. But as time went on he abandoned human ways of thinking, and, carried away by the greatness of his power, began to deify himself and to conduct all his affairs to the dishonor of the divine.

When strife broke out in Alexandria between the Jews living there and the Greeks, three envoys were chosen from each faction and came before Gaius. One of the Alexandrian envoys was Apion, who heaped much abuse on the Jews, among other things charging that they neglected the honors due Caesar: for while everyone else subject to Roman rule had set up altars and temples to Gaius and received him in every other way as they did the gods, the Jews alone thought it disgraceful to honor him with statues or to swear by his name. After Apion had said much that was harsh, by which he hoped — and reasonably so — to inflame Gaius against them, Philo, the leader of the Jewish delegation, a man distinguished in every respect, brother of Alexander the alabarch and no stranger to philosophy, was prepared to answer the charges in their defense. But Gaius cut him off, ordering him out of the way, and it was plain he was furiously angry and meant to do them some harm.

Philo left, thoroughly humiliated, and said to the Jews around him that they should take courage, since Gaius was raging against them only in word, but in deed was already setting God in array against himself. Gaius, deeply offended at being alone slighted by the Jews, sent Petronius as governor of Syria in Vitellius's place, ordering him to march into Judea with a strong force, and, if the people received the statue willingly, to set it up in the temple of God, but if they resisted, to subdue them by war and do it regardless. Petronius, taking over Syria, hurried to carry out the emperor's instructions, gathering as large an allied force as he could and bringing two legions of the Roman army to Ptolemais, where he arrived intending to winter there before renewing operations toward spring, and he wrote to Gaius about what he had learned. Gaius commended his zeal and urged him not to relent, but to make war forcefully on any who refused compliance.

Many tens of thousands of Jews came to Petronius at Ptolemais, begging him not to force them into lawlessness and transgression of their ancestral law. "But if you are absolutely determined to bring the statue and set it up, deal with us first, and only then carry out your orders — for we cannot bear to live and see done to us things forbidden by the dignity of our lawgiver and of our ancestors, who by their virtue established these prohibitions." Petronius, angered, said: "If I were acting on my own authority as emperor and had conceived this plan myself, your argument against me would be just. But as it is, Caesar has given the order, and I am utterly bound to carry out what he has already decreed, since disobeying it would bring a far worse penalty on me."

"Since you feel this way, Petronius," the Jews replied, "and would not disregard Gaius's letters, neither would we transgress the decree of our law's God — persuaded by virtue and by the labors of our ancestors, we have remained faithful to it until now, nor would we dare fall so low as to break, for fear of death, whatever he has decreed that we should not do that would bring us any good. We will endure whatever fortune brings in defense of our ancestral customs, knowing that even in the danger we choose to face there remains hope of survival, because God will stand with us to His own honor as we accept these terrors, and because fortune, favoring both sides equally, may attend our affairs as well — whereas obeying you would bring us much reproach for cowardice, as men who pretend to break the law only for that reason, and at the same time bring down much anger of God, who would prove a better judge over you than Gaius."

Petronius, seeing from these words how unyielding their resolve was, and that he could not carry out the dedication of the statue for Gaius without a fight, and that there would be great bloodshed, took his friends and the retinue that attended him and hurried to Tiberias, wanting to learn firsthand how matters stood among the Jews. The Jews, reckoning the danger of war with Rome great, but judging far greater the danger of transgressing their law, again came out in many tens of thousands to meet Petronius when he arrived at Tiberias, and pleaded with him not to force them into such straits nor defile the city by setting up the statue. "Will you then make war on Caesar," Petronius said, "without reckoning either his strength or your own weakness?" "We will not make war at all," they replied, "but we will die first rather than transgress our laws." And falling on their faces and baring their throats, they declared themselves ready to be killed.

This went on for forty days, and in the meantime they gave no thought to farming, even though it was the season for sowing; such was their resolve, and such their desire and readiness to die rather than see the statue set up. While matters stood thus, Aristobulus, brother of King Agrippa, and Helcias the Great, and the other leading men of that household, together with the foremost citizens, went in to Petronius and urged him, since he saw the people's determination, not to provoke them further to desperation, but instead to write to Gaius describing the intransigence of the people over accepting the statue, and how they had abandoned farming and taken their stand against it — not because they wished to fight, since they knew they could not, but because they were glad to die rather than transgress their laws — so that the land would go unsown, and banditry would arise from the people's inability to pay their taxes. Perhaps Gaius, once softened, would think of nothing cruel and would not resolve on the nation's destruction; but if he persisted in his original intent to make war, then Petronius himself could take up the matter at that point. With these arguments Aristobulus and his companions pleaded with Petronius.

Petronius, moved on the one hand by the persistent urgency of Aristobulus's party, who pressed their plea for so great a cause and used every device in their entreaties, and on the other by his own observation of the Jews' unyielding conviction, and thinking it a terrible thing to bring death upon so many tens of thousands of people for the sake of Gaius's madness, and to live out the rest of his own life burdened by a guilty conscience for having brought about the killing of men on account of their reverence toward God, judged it far better to write to Gaius of their intransigence, angering him though it would, than to have acted rashly on his instructions in dispatching them at once — for perhaps he might yet persuade him; but if Gaius persisted in his original madness, then Petronius would take up the war against them; and if, in the event, some part of his anger should turn instead against himself, he judged it well, for men who lay claim to virtue, to die on behalf of so great a multitude of people. So he judged the petitioners' argument persuasive.

He summoned the Jews to Tiberias — and they came, many tens of thousands of them — and, standing before them, declared that the present expedition was not undertaken by his own judgment but by the emperor's command, and that Caesar's anger allowed no delay, but was brought at once against any business in which men showed the boldness to disobey; and that it would be fitting for a man who had attained such honor to do nothing contrary to Caesar's authorization. "Yet I do not think it right," he said, "that my own safety and honor should not be spent on behalf of your preservation, when so many of you are at stake, in service of the virtue of the law, which you regard as ancestral and worth fighting for, and of the majesty and power of God over all things, whose temple I would not dare allow to fall victim to the outrage of ruling power. I am sending word to Gaius, laying out your views, and in some measure pleading your case as well, that what you have proposed may, against expectation, prevail with him."

May God act with us — for his power over Caesar's decisions is stronger than any human contrivance or authority — securing for you the preservation of your ancestral customs and for Caesar himself the avoidance of any error in the honors he is accustomed to receive, brought on by human designs contrary to his own judgment. But if Gaius, embittered, turns the full weight of his anger against me, I will endure every danger and every hardship that falls upon my body and fortune, rather than watch so great a multitude of you perish while engaged in such honorable pursuits. Go, then, each to his own work, and labor the land. I myself will send word to Rome, and through my own efforts and those of my friends I will not cease to act on your behalf.

With these words he dismissed the assembly of the Jews, and urged the officials to see to the farming and to encourage the people with good hopes. He himself worked to keep the crowd cheerful. But God now displayed to Petronius openly his own presence and his care for the whole matter: for scarcely had Petronius finished the speech he had given to the Jews when at once, beyond all expectation, a great rain fell upon the people — this though that very day had dawned clear, with nothing in the sky foretelling rain, and the whole year had been gripped by a great drought, so that people had given up hope of any rain from above even when they saw a cloud in the sky. So it was that when so much rain arrived then, contrary to custom and contrary to what anyone else expected, the Jews came to hope that Petronius would fail in nothing he asked on their behalf, and Petronius himself was struck with still greater awe, seeing clearly that the God of the Jews was watching over them and had shown so plain a sign of his presence that not even those set on the opposite course could find any strength left for argument.

And when he wrote to Gaius, along with everything else, all that he wrote was persuasive, urging in every way that he not drive so many tens of thousands of people to desperation — for if he killed them, he would not gain their land without a war fought over their ancestral religion, and he would lose the revenue that came from them, and would burden the age to come with the monument of a curse. And besides, he declared that the divine power set over them showed itself unmixed and left no doubt as to the strength it could display. Such was Petronius's situation.

King Agrippa, meanwhile, who happened to be residing at Rome, was advancing further and further in Gaius's friendship. Once, when he gave a banquet for him and took care to outdo everyone else, both in the expense laid out for the dinner and in the preparation of everything that could give pleasure, he did it so thoroughly that not only could none of the rest believe it possible to equal him, but Gaius himself could not believe anyone would even wish to try to equal it, let alone surpass it — so far did the man exceed everyone in his preparations and in providing everything, sparing no thought even beyond what Caesar himself might have provided. Gaius, astonished at his intention and his magnificence, feeling compelled, out of regard for him, to make use of his wealth beyond what his own resources allowed, and wishing to imitate Agrippa's lavish generosity for his own pleasure,

being relaxed by wine and turned in mind toward greater cheerfulness, said at the banquet, urging him to drink: "Agrippa, even before now I was well aware of the honor you showed me and the great goodwill you displayed, even at the risk you ran under Tiberius on my account, and you fall short in nothing, but use a devotion toward me beyond your means. For this reason — for it would be shameful for me to be outdone by your zeal — I wish to make up what I have so far left undone. For all that I have granted you as gifts so far amounts to little. Whatever might add weight to your prosperity shall be provided you, with all my eagerness and power." He said this expecting that Agrippa would ask for a large tract of land yielding revenue, or perhaps the revenues of certain cities.

But Agrippa, though he had prepared in advance everything he meant to ask for, did not reveal his intention, but answered Gaius sharply on the spot: neither before, he said, watching for gain from him, had he courted his favor against Tiberius's wishes, nor now would he act, for the sake of gains pleasing to Gaius, as though seeking some private benefit. What had already been given him was great, and beyond what a man who used his hopes so boldly could expect — for even if it fell short of Gaius's own greatness, it exceeded the intention and worth of himself, the one who had received it. Gaius, astonished at his virtue, pressed him all the more to say what gift he would accept from him. Agrippa replied: "Since, my lord, you declare by your own eagerness that I am worthy of gifts, I will ask for nothing that leads to wealth, since I am already conspicuously provided for by what you have already given me. But whatever might bring you a reputation for piety, and call the divine to your aid in whatever you might wish, and bring me honor among those who hear of it, in the knowledge that I have never lacked anything I sought at your hands — I ask you this: give up your intention of ordering Petronius to set up the dedication of the statue in the temple of the Jews."

Though Agrippa judged this request a dangerous one — for if Gaius decided it was not persuasive, it would bring on nothing less than death — still, because he thought the stakes so great, he considered it worth the throw of the dice. But Gaius, both because he was bound by his devotion to Agrippa and because he thought it unseemly to be shown false before so many witnesses regarding what he had so eagerly pressed Agrippa to ask for, quickly regretted his promise, yet also, marveling at Agrippa's virtue, and thinking he could enlarge his own power in a short time either by revenue in money or by other means, while caring for the public's peace of mind by upholding the laws and the divine — he yielded, and wrote to Petronius,

praising him both for the gathering of the army and for having written to him about it. "Now, then," he wrote, "if you have already set up the statue, let it stand; but if you have not yet made the dedication, trouble yourself no further, but disband the army and go yourself to the tasks I first sent you to do. For I no longer need the setting up of the statue, since I am granting this favor to Agrippa, a man I honor more than to refuse him and what he asks of me."

So Gaius wrote this to Petronius before he received word — for he had supposed, from the gathering, that the Jews were hastening toward revolt, since their intention seemed to signal nothing else than open war against the Romans. Deeply angered, as though at men who had dared to test his rule, a man who fell short of shame yet also fell short of the best, and who, whenever he judged it right to give way to anger against anyone, pursued it more urgently than anyone else, adding no discipline to it whatever, but making pleasure the standard of his judgment of what was good, he wrote to Petronius: "Since you have valued more highly the gifts the Jews gave you than my commands, carrying out everything for their pleasure

rather than mine, and have been swept up into transgressing my orders, I command you to become your own judge and to determine for yourself what you must do, once you have incurred my anger — since you shall be made an example to all now living and to as many as shall come after, that they must never dare to nullify the commands of their emperor." This was the letter he wrote to Petronius. But Petronius did not receive it while Gaius still lived, for the voyage of those carrying it was delayed so long that letters reached Petronius before it, informing him of Gaius's death.

God, it seems, was not going to forget the dangers Petronius had taken on himself for the sake of the Jews and for the honor due to God, but having disposed of Gaius in anger for what he had dared to attempt against his own worship, chose to pay off the debt and reward Petronius together — Rome and the whole empire rejoiced, and especially those of highest rank in the Senate, because Gaius had vented unrestrained anger against them. He died not long after writing the letter that condemned Petronius to death; the cause of his death and the manner of the plot against him I will relate as my account proceeds.

For Petronius, the letter announcing Gaius's death arrived first, and not long after came the one ordering him to take his own life. He rejoiced at the coincidence of the disaster that had overtaken Gaius, and marveled at God's providence, which without any delay, but at once, had rewarded him for the honor he had shown the temple and the help he had given toward the safety of the Jews. And so Petronius, though he had not expected it, easily escaped the danger of death.

A terrible disaster also befell the Jews living in Mesopotamia, and especially those settled in Babylonia — a slaughter of them, great and unequaled by any recorded before. Concerning this I will now give a full and accurate account, along with the causes from which their suffering arose.

Neerda is a city of Babylonia, populous and possessed of good and extensive territory, and, along with other advantages, full of people. It is also not easily assailable by enemies, since the Euphrates encircles it entirely on its course, and it is further protected by fortified walls. There is also the city of Nisibis, situated on the same river's circuit,

from which the Jews, trusting in the natural strength of these places, used to deposit the half-shekel that custom required each of them to pay to God, and whatever other offerings they made, using these two cities as a kind of treasury. From there the funds were sent up to Jerusalem at the proper time, and many tens of thousands of people undertook the conveyance of the money, fearing the raids of the Parthians, since Babylonia was subject to them.

Now there were two men, Asinaeus and Anilaeus, natives of Neerda and brothers to one another. Being orphaned of their father, their mother set them to learn the weaver's trade, since it was not considered unseemly among the local people for men to work at weaving wool. The man in charge of the workshop, in which they had indeed learned their craft, once accused them of coming late and punished them with blows.

They, however, judged the punishment an outrage, and taking down whatever weapons were kept in the house, went off to a certain place called the Break of the Rivers, a place suited by nature to provide good pasture and fodder for those who might store it up for winter. There the most destitute of the young men gathered to them, and arming these men, the brothers became their commanders and were not prevented from becoming leaders in wrongdoing.

Advancing to a position beyond assault and building a stronghold, they sent to those who pastured flocks nearby, ordering them to pay a tribute of livestock sufficient to support them, offering in return friendship to those who complied and protection against enemies from any other quarter, but threatening the slaughter of their flocks to those who refused. The herdsmen, having no other choice, obeyed and sent as many sheep as were demanded,

so that a greater force gathered around the brothers, and they had full power to do whatever they decided, driving on quickly to work mischief. Everyone they encountered began to court their favor, and they became feared even by those who might try to oppose them, so that talk of them was already advancing even as far as the king of the Parthians. The satrap of Babylonia, learning of this and wishing to check them while they were still growing before some greater evil should arise from them,

gathered as large an army as he could of both Parthians and Babylonians and marched against them, wishing to strike first and destroy them before his preparations against them could be reported. He encamped around the marsh and kept quiet, and on the following day — it was the Sabbath, a day of rest from all labor for the Jews — supposing that the enemy would not dare resist him, but that he would take them bound without a fight, he advanced little by little, wanting to make his assault sudden.

Asinaeus happened to be sitting with his companions, their weapons lying beside them, when he said: "Men, a neighing of horses has reached me — not of grazing horses, but such as would come from horses with men mounted on them, since I also perceive a certain drawing back of bridles. I fear the enemy may have surrounded us without our knowing it.

Let someone go ahead as a scout to bring us a clear report of what is happening. May what I have said prove false." So he spoke, and some went off to reconnoiter what was happening, and returned as quickly as possible, reporting that he had not been a false and clear judge of what the enemy was doing, nor would the enemy allow them to commit outrage any longer — "we have been surrounded by a trick, no different from cattle: such a multitude of cavalry is bearing down on us while we lie helpless, our hands idle, because we are restrained by the command of our ancestral law to rest." But Asinaeus was not, after all, going to let the scout's opinion decide what should be done; rather, judging it more lawful, if he must incur punishment for transgressing in the necessity into which he had fallen, to receive it for having shown courage than to end helplessly and give the enemy cause for rejoicing, he himself took up his weapons and instilled courage in his companions to match his own.

They went to meet the enemy, and killing many of them — because their enemies, full of contempt, advanced as though toward an easy victory — put the rest to flight. When word of the battle reached the king of the Parthians, he was astonished at the daring of the brothers

and desired to meet them face to face and in conversation, and sent the most trusted of his bodyguards to say that King Artabanus, though wronged by their attack upon his rule, valued his own anger at them less than their courage, and had sent him to give them his right hand and his pledge, granting them safe and unmolested passage, wishing them to come to him in friendship, without deceit or trickery, and promising to give them gifts and honor which, added to the standing they now had, would in time benefit them through his own power. Asinaeus himself declined to make the journey there, but sent his brother Anilaeus with such gifts as could be gathered. Anilaeus went, and gained an audience with the king. And Artabanus...

When Artabanus saw Anilaeus arriving alone, he asked the reason why Asinaeus had also been delayed. On learning that fear had kept him waiting in the marsh, the king swore by his ancestral gods that he would do no harm to men who had come to him trusting his word, and he gave his right hand on it—among all the barbarians of that region the greatest pledge there is, one that gives those who deal with a man confidence to approach him.

No one would ever lie once his right hand had been given in this way, nor would anyone hesitate to trust it, when such a guarantee of safety is offered even by men who are under suspicion of meaning harm. Having done this, Artabanus sent Anilaeus off to persuade his brother to come back, and the king did this because he wanted to use the courage of the Jewish brothers as a check on the satrapies that were in revolt, intending to march against them himself once he judged the moment right. He was afraid that if he became tied down in a war there to subdue the rebels, Asinaeus and his men would grow to great strength in Babylonia and either combine forces against him when he was weakest to resist, or, failing in that, would not fall short of doing him serious harm in some other way. With this in mind he sent Anilaeus off,

and Anilaeus succeeded in persuading his brother, laying before him the king's goodwill and the oath that had been sworn, so that the two of them hastened to Artabanus. The king received them with pleasure when they arrived, and admired Asinaeus's boldness in action, seeing that he was altogether short in stature and gave those meeting him for the first time, at first sight, every occasion to despise him, judging him by nothing remarkable to look at. The king remarked to his friends that in this comparison the man's spirit clearly outweighed his body, and over wine he pointed Asinaeus out to Abdagases, his camp commander, telling him the man's name and the full extent of the courage he showed in war. When Abdagases urged that he be allowed to kill him and collect a reward for the wrongs he had done to the Parthian kingdom,

the king said, "I could not grant leave against a man who trusted me enough to come, who moreover sent his right hand and took pains to win my confidence by oaths sworn on the gods. If you are in truth a good man in war, without asking me to break my oath, avenge the Parthian kingdom's outraged honor yourself: attack him as he withdraws and overpower him by your own strength, without my knowledge." At dawn he summoned Asinaeus and said, "Young man, it is time for you to go to your own affairs, so that you do not provoke the anger of more of the generals here to attempt your murder without my consent. I entrust to you as a deposit the land of Babylonia, that it remain free of plunder and untouched by harm through your care.

It is fitting that I find you honorable in return, since I have offered you my trust without reservation, not over trifles but over matters bound up with your safety." Having said this and given gifts, he then sent Asinaeus off. On reaching his own territory Asinaeus built forts and strengthened whatever defenses he had made before; in a short time he had become great, unlike anyone before him who had laid hold of such power from so bold a beginning, and the Parthian generals sent down to that region courted his favor, since the honor coming to them from the Babylonians seemed slight compared with the standing he had won for himself. He was held in dignity and power, and all affairs in Mesopotamia now turned on him; their prosperity advanced for fifteen years.

But while their fortunes were at their height, the beginning of misfortunes overtook them, from the following cause. Since they turned the very courage by which they had risen to such power into outrage, falling, through desire and pleasure, into transgression of their ancestral ways, one of them—a Parthian general arrived in charge of that district—brought with him a wife who, besides everything else, surpassed all women in the praise she received, and who gained an even greater hold on him through admiration of her beauty. Anilaeus, the brother of Asinaeus, having learned of her beauty either by report or by having seen her himself, became her lover and her husband's enemy—partly because he had no other hope of gaining access to the woman except by taking control over her as one acquired for himself, and partly because he judged his desire too strong to argue against.

So the man became marked out as an enemy on her account, and was killed; a skirmish was brought on, he fell slain, and once she was taken captive she was married to her lover. Yet the woman did not come into the household of Anilaeus and Asinaeus without great misfortunes attending, and for this reason: when, after her husband's death, she was led off as a captive, she brought with her the images of the gods that had belonged to both her husband and herself—since it is the custom among all the people of that region to keep such objects of worship in the house and to carry them along when going abroad. In observing this she kept up, along with everything else, the ancestral custom concerning them, and at first practiced her worship secretly; but once she had been made a wife, she went on serving them in the manner and with the rites she had been accustomed to under her former husband.

The most honored of their companions at first said nothing at all, since he had married a foreign woman who did not follow the Hebrew practices, or anything suited to their own laws, and who was violating the strictness of the sacrifices and worship they were used to; but they thought they should watch, lest by yielding too much to bodily pleasure he destroy the foundation of his good standing and the power that had, until now, come to him from God. When they made no headway, but he even killed the most honored of them because he had spoken with too much frankness, that man, as he watched, called down a curse—in the name of the laws' goodwill and in vengeance for his own killing—that Anilaeus and Asinaeus and all their companions alike meet an end brought on by enemies:

on the one hand as leaders who had become lawbreakers, on the other because they did not come to his aid when he suffered such things for upholding the laws. The rest were troubled but bore with it, remembering that it was for no other reason than the brothers' strength that they had joined their fortunes to theirs. But when they also heard of the worship being paid to the gods honored among the Parthians, they no longer considered Anilaeus's outrage against the laws tolerable, and going to Asinaeus, now more of them cried out against Anilaeus, saying it would be well, if he had not seen before where his own advantage lay, at least now to take notice of what had happened, before the wrongdoing brought ruin on him and on everyone else besides—saying that the woman's marriage had not been made according to their laws or customs,

and that the worship she practiced was carried on to the dishonor of the God they revered. Asinaeus himself knew that his brother's wrongdoing was and would be the cause of great evils, yet he did not restrain him, being overcome by affection for his kinsman and granting him pardon on the ground that he was overcome by a desire stronger than himself. But when more and more men kept gathering to protest, and the outcry grew louder, at that point he spoke to Anilaeus about it, rebuking him for what had already happened and ordering him to put a stop to it going forward by sending the woman away to her own kin. Nothing came of these words. The woman, meanwhile, aware of the disturbance holding the people because of her, and fearing for Anilaeus, lest something happen to him out of his passion for her,

gave Asinaeus poison in his food and did away with the man, now free of anyone to judge what would be done concerning her, since she had become the beloved of Anilaeus. Anilaeus, now sole commander, led out an army against the villages of Mithridates, a leading man in Parthia and husband of King Artabanus's daughter, and carried them off as plunder, seizing much money and many slaves, many flocks, and much else of the kind that helps toward the increase of prosperity for those who hold it. Mithridates, who happened to be in the region, on hearing of the sacking of the villages took it hard, since Anilaeus had begun the wrong unprovoked and had shown contempt even for his rank; he gathered as many horsemen as he could, along with most of the men of military age he had at hand,

and set out to engage Anilaeus's forces, and having taken up quarters in a village of his own he rested there, intending to give battle the next day, since that day was the Sabbath, which the Jews spend in rest. Anilaeus, learning this from a Syrian, a foreigner from another village, who reported everything accurately, including the very place where Mithridates was going to dine, had supper at the usual hour and then rode through the night, wanting to fall upon the Parthians while they were unaware of what was afoot. Falling on them around the fourth watch, he killed those still asleep and put the rest to flight, and took Mithridates himself alive, carrying him off mounted naked on a donkey—the greatest disgrace known among the Parthians. Having brought him down to the woods under this humiliation,

and though his friends urged him to kill Mithridates, he argued them out of it, himself pressing hard the opposite course: that it was not right to kill a man of the very first rank among the Parthians, held in even greater honor through his marriage tie to the king. What had been done so far, he said, could still be tolerated; even though Mithridates had been outrageously humiliated, still, being benefited with the safety of his life, he would remember gratitude toward those who had granted him such things—whereas if he suffered anything fatal, the king would not sit still without making a great slaughter of the Jews in Babylon, whom it would be well to spare, both for the sake of kinship and because, should any mishap befall them, there would be no fallback for the brothers, given how much they relied on that community's strength at its full numbers. Having reasoned this out and put it before the assembled men, he carried the point, and Mithridates was released.

When he came home, his wife reproached him, saying that if he were the king's son-in-law he ought to look out for himself, and, avenging this insult, see to it that those who had outraged him were themselves punished—rather than settling for his life after being taken captive by Jewish men. "Now go and recover your honor," she said, "or I swear by the royal gods that I will indeed break off my marriage-partnership with you." He, unable to bear the daily sting of her reproaches, and also afraid of his wife's high spirit—that she might in fact break off the marriage—unwillingly and against his own wishes nonetheless gathered as large an army as he could and marched out, thinking his own survival unbearable too, if, being a Parthian, he were pushed aside by a Jew fighting against him. When Anilaeus

learned that Mithridates was advancing with a large force, he judged it dishonorable to stay in the marshes rather than go out to meet the enemy first, and hoping to repeat his earlier good fortune, and that courage attends those who dare and are used to being bold, he led out his forces. Many had joined his own army besides, eager to turn to plundering others' property and to overawe the enemy by sheer numbers at the sight of them. When they had advanced ninety stadia, through waterless country, and it was now midday, thirst overcame them badly on top of everything else, and Mithridates appeared and fell upon them while they were worn out by lack of water and, because of it and the heat, unable to carry their weapons. So Anilaeus's men were routed, since they met fresh troops while already exhausted,

and there was great slaughter—many tens of thousands of men fell. Anilaeus, with whatever forces held together around him, withdrew in flight to the woods, having given Mithridates great joy in his victory over them. To Anilaeus there now flocked a helpless crowd of wicked men, seeking their safety for the moment through the ease his company offered, so that the numbers coming to him matched the numbers of those who had been lost—though they were nothing like the fallen in experience for want of training. Even so, he descended upon the villages of the Babylonians, and all of that region was thrown into upheaval by Anilaeus's violence. The Babylonians and those engaged in the war sent to Neerda, to the Jews there, demanding Anilaeus be handed over, and when they refused

this demand—being in fact unable to hand him over even had they wished—they proposed peace instead; the Babylonians said that they too wanted terms of peace, and sent men along with the Babylonians to negotiate with Anilaeus. But the Babylonians, once they had gained knowledge of the ground through a reconnaissance and learned the place where Anilaeus was encamped, fell upon it secretly by night while the men were drunk and lying overcome by sleep, and killed without mercy everyone they caught there, Anilaeus himself included. The Babylonians, once rid of Anilaeus's oppressive rule—for it had served as a check on them only through their hatred of the Jews, since the two peoples had always for the most part been at odds because their laws opposed one another, and whichever side found itself with the advantage was the first to move against the other—now that Anilaeus's men had perished, turned on the Jews.

The Jews, finding the outrage from the Babylonians hard to bear, and being able neither to stand against them in battle nor to think it tolerable to go on living alongside them, went off to Seleucia, the most notable city of that region, founded by Seleucus Nicator. Many Macedonians live there, and even more Greeks, and there is no small number of Syrians as well among its citizens. To this city the Jews fled, and for five years they suffered no harm; but in the sixth year after their first calamity in Babylon, followed now by these fresh troubles and their flight to Seleucia on account of them, a still greater disaster awaited them, whose cause I will now relate. Among the Greeks of Seleucia, life with the Syrians was for the most part one of factional strife and discord, and the Greeks held the upper hand.

At that time, once the Jews had come to live among them, the two other groups fell into strife, and the Syrians proved the stronger, because the Jews had sided with them, being men fond of danger and eager for war. The Greeks, hard pressed by the faction fighting and seeing one avenue open to them for recovering their former standing, if they could manage to stop the two sides from speaking with one voice,

each of them approached the Syrians who had been friendly with them before, promising peace and friendship. The Syrians gladly accepted. Proposals passed between the two sides, and since the leading men on each side pressed for reconciliation, an agreement was reached very quickly. Having come to this accord, each side thought it right to offer the other, as a great proof of goodwill, their shared hostility toward the Jews.

Falling upon the Jews without warning, they killed more than fifty thousand men. All of them perished except for those who, through the pity of friends or neighbors, were allowed to escape. These found refuge in Ctesiphon, a Greek city lying near Seleucia, where the king winters every year and where most of his baggage is kept in storage. But it was senseless of them to have settled there, given their regard for the kingdom of the Seleucids, who had brought this disaster about.

The whole Jewish nation in that region now feared both the Babylonians and the people of Seleucia, since all the Syrians who lived as citizens in those places agreed with the people of Seleucia about making war on the Jews. So they gathered in great numbers at Nehardea and Nisibis, relying on the strength of those cities for their safety, and besides, the entire population there consisted of men fit for war. Such, then, was the state of affairs among the Jews settled in Babylonia.

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