Tiberius and Caius Gracchus

Plutarch

Plutarch. Plutarch's Lives, Vol. X. Perrin, Bernadotte, translator. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann Ltd., 1921.

Many of those who saw this were moved to pity Caius; they reproached themselves for abandoning and betraying him, and went to his house, and spent the night at his door, though not in the same manner as those who were guarding Fulvius. For these passed the whole time in noise and shouting, drinking, and boasting of what they would do, Fulvius himself being the first to get drunk, and saying and doing much that was unseemly for a man of his years;

but the followers of Caius, feeling that they faced a public calamity, kept quiet and were full of concern for the future, and passed the night sleeping and keeping watch by turns.

When day came, Fulvius was with difficulty roused from his drunken sleep by his partisans, who armed themselves with the spoils of war about his house, which he had taken after a victory over the Gauls during his consulship, and with much threatening and shouting went to seize the Aventine hill. Caius, on the other hand, was unwilling to arm himself, but went forth in his toga, as though on his way to the forum, with only a short dagger on his person.

As he was going out at the door, his wife threw herself in his way, and with one arm round her husband and the other round their little son, said: Not to the rostra, O Caius, do I now send thee forth, as formerly, to serve as tribune and law-giver, nor yet to a glorious war, where, shouldst thou die (and all men must die), thou wouldst at all events leave me an honoured sorrow; but thou art exposing thyself to the murderers of Tiberius, and thou doest well to go unarmed, that thou mayest suffer rather than inflict wrong; but thy death will do the state no good.