Hercules (the Straits of Gibraltar), and the coast
for fifty miles inland, and who should be furnished
with two hundred ships, as many soldiers and sailors
as he wanted, and more than a million pounds in money.
The nobles were furious in their opposition, and prepared
to prevent by force the passing of this law. The
proposer narrowly escaped with his life, and Pompey
himself was threatened. “If you will be
another Romulus, like Romulus you shall die”
(one form of the legend of Rome’s first king
represented him as having been torn to pieces by the
senators.) But all resistance was unavailing.
The new command was created, and of course bestowed
upon Pompey. The price of corn, which had risen
to a famine height in Rome, fell immediately the appointment
was made. The result, indeed, amply justified
the choice. The new general made short work of
the task that had been set him. Not satisfied
with the force put under his command, he collected
five hundred ships and one hundred and twenty thousand
men. With these he swept the pirates from the
seas and stormed their strongholds, and all in less
than three months. Twenty thousand prisoners fell
into his hands. With unusual humanity he spared
their lives, and thinking that man was the creature
of circumstances, determined to change their manner
of life. They were to be removed from the sea,
should cease to be sailors, and become farmers.
It is possible that the old man of Corycus, whose
skill in gardening Virgil celebrates in one of his
Georgics, was one of the pirates whom the judicious
mercy of Pompey changed into a useful citizen.
A still greater success remained to be won. For
more than twenty years war, occasionally intercepted
by periods of doubtful peace, had been carried on
between Rome and Mithridates, king of Pontus.
This prince, though reduced more than once to the
greatest extremities, had contrived with extraordinary
skill and courage to retrieve his fortunes, and now
in 67 B.C. was in possession of the greater part of
his original dominion. Lucullus, a general of
the greatest ability, was in command of the forces
of Rome, but he had lost the confidence of his troops,
and affairs were at a standstill. Pompey’s
friends proposed that the supreme command should be
transferred to him, and the law, which Cicero supported
in what is perhaps the most perfect of his political
speeches[6], was passed. Pompey at once proceeded
to the East. For four years Mithridates held
out, but with little hope of ultimate success or even
of escape. In 64, after vainly attempting to poison
himself, such was the power of the antidotes by which
he had fortified himself against domestic treachery
(for so the story runs), he perished by the sword of
one of his mercenaries. For two years more Pompey
was busied in settling the affairs of the East.
At last, in 61, he returned to Rome to enjoy a third
triumph, and that the most splendid which the city
had ever witnessed. It lasted for two days, but