[Marcius,] general of [the] Romans.[1] This man was banished by the populace. "There was lamentation and tears from those who were escorting and pitying [sc. Marcius]. But Marcius was observed as neither having burst into tears nor having bewailed his own fortune nor having said or done any other thing whatsoever unworthy of his own greatness of mind. He evinced yet more fortitude and nobility of purpose when, having arrived home, he saw his wife and mother tearing their robes into pieces, beating their breasts, and uttering such things as are likely in these circumstances, when women are being torn away from their closest kinsfolk by death or banishment, crying out loud in grief. Not by the tears of the children[2] was he affected, one son being ten years old, but one [sc. an infant son] clasped in arms.[3] With haste, nonetheless, he went out through the gates [sc. of the city], divulging to no one[4] where he would make his escape. He was a true man, best in battle, against all indulgences in control of himself,[5] and promulgating customs not from law compulsory to everyone, but being earnest and also quite forthright regarding them. And not only being zealous to keep himself pure from all injustice, but considering it right to compel others as well, [being] both magnanimous, generous, and most ready to redress. But as it was indeed impossible for all of a man's virtues to have arisen by nature, neither was anyone, generally good, brought forth by nurture from dead and waxed-over seed. However, in this very man, a spirit--having imbued each and every virtue--also bestowed fatal flaws and reckless impulses, for mildness and cheerfulness did not apply to his tendencies, nor helpfulness in close salutations and in greeting,[6] nor any ease of accommodation and conciliation when he might have lost temper with someone, nor the grace that decorates all things human; he was always but sharp and hard. And these things did tarnish him to many people, and most of all [sc. that he was] indiscriminate[7] and intransigent concerning rules and defense of the laws, and giving nothing at all to the deserving. It seems to be true, what was said by the ancient philosophers, that moral virtues--and above all lawfulness--are means, not extremes.[8] For not only has falling short of the law been his nature, but also exceeding its bounds; it is not paying to others their due, but the imposition[9] of enormous penalties. Harsh lawgiving thus tarnished Marcius, and he was exiled from his country, because with all his injustices he aroused an opposing hatred. So, if when bodies perish,[10] it is at the same time characteristic of the soul--that is, whenever it has indeed been completely abolished and no longer exists anywhere--I do not know how I am to understand as blessed those enjoying nothing good from a virtue, yet perishing by this [sc. virtue] itself. But also if, as according to many, our souls happen to be ineradicable, or for a time after release from their bodies persevere, those of the good men the longest, while those of the wicked the least, it might seem a sufficient honor to those making a practice of virtue, after having set oneself against one's fate; for the living, it is a eulogy and a resilient memorial for the longest time. It fell too to this man's lot. For not only the Volscians mourned this man--he used to be their leader[11]--but the Romans too observed a mourning in private and in public, the women also taking off gold and other adornment and, dressing in black wraps, commemorating and mourning for a year's time; and, five hundred years to this having elapsed, the memory of this man has not begun fading."