7
This, however, did not frighten me; I did not draw back when I estimated the difficulty of the achievement, nor play the coward in the face of danger. Alone, alone, I climbed the hill to front the tyranny that was so strong and many-headed—yet, not alone but with my sword that shared the fray with me and in its turn was tyrant-slayer too. I had my death in prospect, but sought to purchase our common liberty with the shedding of my own blood. I met the first guard-post, routed the guardsmen with no little difficulty, slew whomsoever I encountered, destroyed whatsoever blocked my path. Then I assailed the very forefront of my tasks, the sole strength of the tyranny, the cause of our calamities. I came upon the warden of the citadel, I saw him offer a brave defence and hold out against many wounds; and yet I slew him.
8
The tyranny, therefore, had at last been overthrown, my undertaking had attained fulfilment, and from that moment we all were free. Only an old man still remained, unarmed, his guards lost, that mighty henchman of his gone, deserted, no longer even worthy of a valiant arm.
8
Thereupon, gentlemen of the jury, I thus reasoned with myself; “All has gone well for me, everything is accomplished, my success is complete. How shall the survivor be punished? Of me and my right hand he is unworthy, particularly if his slaying were to follow a glorious, daring, valiant deed, dishonouring that other mortal thrust. He must seek a fitting executioner, a change of fate, and not profit by having the same one. Let him behold, suffer his punishment, have the sword lying at hand; I commit the rest to him.” This plan formed, I myself withdrew, and he, as I had presaged, carried through with it, slew the tyrant, supplied the ending to my lay.
