The Emperor Vespasian, sick of the disease that would kill him, still inquired after the state of the empire and from his bed despatched affairs of great consequence. His physician reproved him as harming his health. Vespasian answered that an emperor must die standing. Adrian later used the same words. Montaigne says kings should be often put in mind of them. The great office of commanding so many men is not an employment of ease. Nothing so justly disgusts a subject, and makes him unwilling to expose himself to labour and danger, as seeing the prince devoted to ease and frivolous amusement, solicitous of his own preservation while he neglects that of his people.
Whoever claims it is better for a prince to carry on his wars by others will find examples both ways, but no virtuous and valiant prince can endure so dishonourable a counsel. Under colour of saving his head like the statue of a saint, they degrade him from an office that is military throughout. Montaigne knows one who would rather be beaten than sleep whilst another fights for him, and who never without jealousy heard of a brave thing done by his own officers in his absence. Soliman said victories obtained without the master were never complete. The direction that deserves honour is given upon the spot, in the heat of the business. No pilot performs his office by standing still. Bajazet II and his son, spending their time in science and retired employments, gave great blows to their empire, and Amurath III, following them, begins to find the same. Edward III said of Charles V that there never was a king who so seldom put on his armour, and yet never a king who gave him so much to do. Let others reckon the Kings of Castile and Portugal among warlike conquerors because at twelve hundred leagues their captains made themselves masters of both Indies. The Emperor Julian said a philosopher and a brave man ought not so much as to breathe, allowing the body only what it cannot refuse. Seneca says the ancient Romans kept their youth always standing, and taught them nothing they were to learn sitting.
A generous desire to die usefully is one thing. The effect lies less in resolution than in fortune. A thousand have proposed to overcome or die and have failed both, wounds and imprisonment compelling them to live. Philistus, general of Dionysius the younger against the Syracusans, had the better at first, then, environed in his galley and hoping for no relief, took away with his own hand the life he had exposed in vain. Mule Moloch, king of Fez, extremely sick when Sebastian of Portugal entered his dominions, resigned only the pomp of entering camp to his brother. His body lay upon a couch. His judgment and courage stayed upright to his last gasp, and in some sort beyond it. He might have wasted the enemy without striking a blow, but for want of a little life or somebody to substitute, he was compelled to seek a doubtful and bloody victory already in his hands by a surer way. He arranged his battalions in a circle, closed the Portuguese in, and they were slain in heaps. Dying, he had himself carried where most need was. When a corner of his battalions broke, he tried to mount horseback with his sword in his hand, they holding him by the bridle, the robe, and the stirrups. Coming to himself with other faculties failing, he expired with his finger upon his mouth, the ordinary sign of keeping silence, so that his soldiers might not be discouraged. Who ever died so erect, or more like a man? The most natural courage is to continue the wonted course of life even into death, as Cato did, who entertained himself in study and went to sleep with a violent death in his heart and the weapon in his hand with which he was resolved to despatch himself.
Coming Up in Chapter 78
Montaigne says he has been none of the least able at posting, an exercise proper for a short, well-knit man of his pitch, but he gives it over because it shakes the body too much. He is reading how King Cyrus spaced horses across a vast empire so news could fly as fast as cranes.