The Historians' History of the World 04

So saying, he addressed a short prayer to the gods, embraced his associates, and departed. Before he arrived at the treasury, he was met by Archias and Phyllidas. The former asked him, in the presence of the other magistrates, whose anxiety had brought them from table, “Who are those strangers said to have arrived the other day, and to be now entertained in your family?” Charon had composed his countenance so artfully, and retorted the question with such well-dissembled surprise, as considerably quieted the solicitude of the tyrants, which was totally removed by a whisper of Phyllidas, “that the absurd rumour had doubtless been spread for no other purpose but that of disturbing their pleasures.”

They had scarcely returned to the banquet, when Fortune, as if she had taken pleasure to confound the dexterity of Phyllidas, raised up a new and most alarming danger. A courier arrived from Athens with every mark of haste and trepidation, desiring to see Archias, to whom he delivered a letter from an Athenian magistrate of the same name, his ancient friend and guest. This letter revealed the conspiracy; a secret not entrusted to the messenger, who had orders, however, to request Archias to read the despatch immediately, as containing matters of the utmost importance. But that careless voluptuary, whose thoughts were totally absorbed in the expected scene of pleasure, replied with a smile, “Business to-morrow;” deposited the letter under the pillow of the couch, on which, according to ancient custom, he lay at the entertainment; and resumed his conversation with Phyllidas.

Matters were now come to a crisis; Phyllidas retired for a moment; the conspirators were put in motion; their weapons concealed under the flowing swell of female attire, and their countenances overshadowed and hid by a load of crowns and garlands. In this disguise they were presented to the magistrates intoxicated with wine and folly. At a given signal they drew their daggers, and effected their purpose. Charon and Mellon were the principal actors in this bloody scene, which was entirely directed by Phyllidas. But a more difficult task remained. Leontiades, with other abettors of the tyranny, still lived, to avenge the murder of their associates. The conspirators, encouraged by their first success, and conducted by Phyllidas, gained admission into their houses successively, by means of the unsuspected secretary. On the appearance of disorder and tumult, Leontiades seized his sword, and boldly prepared for his defence. Pelopidas had the merit of destroying the principal author of the Theban servitude and disgrace. His associates perished without resistance; men whose names may be consigned to just oblivion, since they were distinguished by nothing memorable but their cruel and oppressive tyranny.

The measures of the conspirators were equally vigorous and prudent. Before alarming the city, they proceeded to the different prisons, which were crowded with the unfortunate victims of arbitrary power. Every door was open to Phyllidas. The captives, transported with joy and gratitude, increased the strength of their deliverers. They broke open the arsenals, and provided themselves with arms. The streets of Thebes now resounded with alarm and terror; every house and family were filled with confusion and uproar; the inhabitants were universally in motion; some providing lights, others running in wild disorder to the public places, and all anxiously wishing the return of day, that they might discover the unknown cause of this nocturnal tumult.

During a moment of dreadful silence, which interrupted the noise of sedition, a herald proclaimed, with a clear and loud voice, the death of the tyrants, and summoned to arms the friends of liberty and the republic. Among others who obeyed the welcome invitation was Epaminondas, the son of Polymnis, a youth of the most illustrious merit; who united the wisdom of the sage and the magnanimity of the hero, with the practice of every mild and gentle virtue; unrivalled in knowledge and in eloquence; in birth, valour, and patriotism, not inferior to Pelopidas, with whom he had contracted an early friendship. The principles of the Pythagorean philosophy, which he had diligently studied under Lysis of Tarentum, rendered Epaminondas averse to engage in the conspiracy, lest he might imbrue his hands in civil blood. But when the sword was once drawn, he appeared with ardour in defence of his friends and country; and his example was followed by many brave and generous youths who had reluctantly endured the double yoke of domestic and foreign tyranny.