man; and that,
if Alexander would give him the order, he would form Athos into the
most magnificent and durable monument of him that the world had ever
seen, as he would represent him as holding in his left hand the city
of Myriandrus, and with his right pouring, as a libation, a copious
river into the sea. Alexander would not, indeed, adopt this
suggestion, but was fond of discussing much more wonderful and costly
designs than this with his engineers.
LXXIII. Just as Alexander was on the point of starting for Babylon,
Nearchus, who had returned with his fleet up the Euphrates, met him,
and informed him that some Chaldaeans had warned Alexander to avoid
Babylon. He took no heed of this warning, but went his way. When he
drew near the walls he saw many crows flying about and pecking at one
another, some of whom fell to the ground close beside him. After this,
as he heard that Apollodorus, the governor of Babylon, had sacrificed
to the gods to know what would happen to Alexander, he sent for
Pythagoras, the soothsayer, who had conducted the sacrifice, to know
if this were true. The soothsayer admitted that it was, on which
Alexander inquired what signs he had observed in the sacrifice.
Pythagoras answered that the victim's liver wanted one lobe. "Indeed!"
exclaimed Alexander, "that is a terrible omen." He did Pythagoras no
hurt, but regretted that he had not listened to the warning of
Nearchus, and spent most of his time in his camp outside the walls of
Babylon, or in boats on the river Euphrates. Many unfavourable omens
now depressed his spirit. A tame ass attacked and kicked to death the
finest and largest lion that he kept; and one day, as he stripped to
play at tennis, the young man with whom he played, when it was time to
dress again, saw a man sitting on the king's throne, wearing his
diadem and royal robe. For a long time this man refused to speak, but
at length said that he was a citizen of Messene, named Dionysius, who
had been brought to Babylon and imprisoned on some charge or other,
and that now the god Serapis had appeared to him, loosed his chains,
and had brought him thither, where he had bidden him to put on the
king's diadem and robe, seat himself on his throne, and remain silent.
LXXIV. When Alexander heard this, he caused the man to be put to
death, according to the advice of his soothsayers; but he himself was
much cast down, and feared that the gods had forsaken him: he also
grew suspicious of his
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