On the Destruction of Jerusalem 5.24–5.31

While she lamented, behold, at his mother's voice Josephus came forward and began to grieve that he had escaped, he for whom it would have been sweet to die before his homeland and to fall for his homeland while urging what was for its safety. But now, he said, he was not contending for the safety of his parents, who, worn out with age, were spending the last end of their life in prison and would be set free if they died; but he was trembling for the altar, for the temple, for the still half-ruined walls of the city. He had offered himself to wounds so as not to see his homeland overthrown. Roused by this complaint, many, thinking they should go over to the Romans by whatever way they could, slipped out from the ambushes of the robbers and the guard of the sentries. To these Titus kept the mercy he had promised, but another, heavier misfortune befell them. For when a supply of food was given, the food that before had been a help began to be a burden, and, unused to the work of eating, the ministry of the body was idle. There was no strength in the teeth to chew food, no firmness in the gullet; they could in no way gnaw bread. If indeed they had swallowed any softer nourishment, they were choked, the passages of the throat being already shut. The inner parts of the entrails had stiffened; the ducts of food were blocked. The veins of the liver, which draw in food, had dried up. The use had perished, the greed was heaped up; the strength had failed, the appetite remained. The wretches fell upon the food and practiced feeble bites like infants. Many, at the sight of food, fainted from sheer joy and died amid the food they had longed for, comforting their misery that they had fulfilled their wish. But it was a tearful procession, since more rose from food to danger than to safety, so that even nourishment did harm. For their bodies were swollen by the unaccustomed food rather than refreshed, and as though by a kind of dropsy they paid the penalty with distended skin. And if any still had some strength for eating, greed knowing no measure crammed in beyond measure what they could not bear, and, stuffed with sudden food, they burst. For what was not heavy to those for whom even feeling alone was heavy, so that it did harm to have seen what they had desired? For, incapable of feelings through long famine, even the sense of nature oppressed them, and the very motion of joy weighed on them. It is no wonder, then, if food is a danger to the exhausted. Indeed after a two days' fast, if you take something too greedily, it at once turns crude in the stomach. Hence it is the custom of many to pour the juice of milk into weak entrails and, mixing it with honey, to temper the imbalance of humors made sharp by fasting, and to nourish the weakness of the body with softer food, as in a kind of infancy. In this way, then, some of the Jews who had fled to the Romans could escape, weighing the measure of their food with a certain skill, until the flesh, unused to eating, returned to its own functions. Yet even this did not profit the wretches, but became the cause of a greater destruction. For when many of them, having taken food, relieved their bowels, some had passed gold coins which they had swallowed when they were preparing their flight, lest, if caught, since the lurking men searched everything, they should suffer not only loss but also danger: for it was counted a crime for anyone but the robbers to have gold. So afterward the Jews, a pitiable sight, gathered gold among the filth of their bowels. A certain Syrian found this out, and from one the opinion spread to all. That race of men is headlong to avarice and ready for craftiness, so that nothing is so atrocious that they shrink from it, nothing so shameful that they blush at it, out of zeal for money. From the Syrians the report spread to the Arabs, whose avarice is no less and whose fierceness is nearer to barbaric savagery, that the Jews were stuffed with gold. They tore apart whomever they met as they came, against right, against the laws of surrender, against Caesar's promise that it was not lawful to kill them; they cut them open while still alive, and with bloody hands disemboweled the secret parts of the belly. They searched the bowels and looked for gold among its flowing filth, no less shamefully than those whom hunger drove, and with savage cruelty besides. Many bitter things were done in that war; nothing more bitter than this one thing. In one night about two thousand men were torn apart by such an outrage, and with their entrails divided, Syria counted its gains, Arabia reckoned the profits of its trade, which, without the dangers of crossing the sea, they had turned to the use of gain by a new invention of cruelty, and thought it merchandise. This is found even now in this kind of men, and often in some of the Egyptians, who make a trade of caring for funerals and sell the duties of humanity for the profits of commerce. Wretched hunger for gold! It thinks nothing worth pursuing except what is profitable for the moment, nothing honorable that is empty of money. Heavy long since, heavy has grown in human hearts the desire of gain, and the life of men has become a trade: men live by selling and buying. So the vice has crept into countless people, so that now an exchange of goods is more tolerable than an exchange of morals and minds. The avarice of the Syrians infected even the Roman army. For nothing passes more easily into another than the love of money and the desire of having, especially wealth close at hand, with which a neighbor has abounded. Nor is there any passion that more unmans the strength of the mind than the desire of riches. Indeed craftiness is praised, poverty held a disgrace. This hindered the severity of punishment, because countless men were found guilty of such madness; and therefore Titus, who had proposed to surround the Syrians and Arabs with his army, revoked his decision in view of their number, so as to pardon the earlier offense, and threatened punishment so that it would not be committed afterward. And with graver severity of words he rebuked his own men, because, girt with gold and silver and shining in precious weapons, they did not blush for their arms and dishonor themselves with such disgrace. But he upbraided the Syrians and Arabs because, forgetful of the Roman name, they had devised things horrible even to speak of: they had come to share in the war, not to practice crimes. In the Roman army not only strength of body but also of mind was required, and not only courage against the enemy but also the rule of discipline was looked for: that the soldier should not be cruel, nor impious, nor insolent, nor intent on plunder rather than victory. These were held grave crimes of soldiering and were punished severely. Even amid arms laws prevailed: wars were better waged with good faith, which is kept even with enemies. If, then, it is owed even to armed men, how much more to suppliants! Therefore let them beware of such crimes, lest they become shut out from both victory and safety. Nor would he suffer any longer that their wicked crimes be ascribed to the Romans, who were more a burden than a help. So he restrained the avarice of the Syrians a little; he did not cut it out, so that they fled the judge but did not cherish the command. Indeed, having first made sure whether the presence of a Roman soldier was lacking, they drew out accursed gain from the entrails of the wretched; and yet the result of plunder did not follow in all, but in few, which made the savagery crueler, because very many were killed not only for their wealth but for the hope of gain, whereas even robbers themselves, and pirates more savage than robbers, refrain from robbery where they have sensed no plunder. For it belongs to barbaric savagery alone to do harm for nothing. Even the wild beasts kill in pursuit of prey. So outside there were bitter punishments, and inside a more savage John.

In the end, although such things were done by the Syrians, and although others were held back once the matter became known, still others did not cease to desert. Among them was Mannaeus son of Lazarus, who declared that through the one gate entrusted to him one hundred fifteen thousand eight hundred eighty dead had been carried out, because he himself had taken over the charge of that duty; and that this was reckoned from the number only of those who had been buried at public expense, apart from those whom their own families had buried. And what tombs were these, except that the corpses were thrown down from the wall? After him many men of some note, fleeing to Titus, related that there had been six hundred thousand dead counted as they were carried out through the gates; but the number of the corpses that could not be carried out because of the infinite multitude of the poor, and were heaped up in the largest houses and in the spaces of various buildings, was beyond reckoning. And still the evils went on, which had already surpassed belief in all that went before. Still the siege was savage, the war heavy; yet the Jews' spirit was now greater than their strength. Above all the famine was more horrible, which lay in wait for beasts of burden relieving their bowels and rummaged in old cattle dung, so that what was horrible to see became food for the starving. Pitiable was the heap of unburied bodies, and over a long circuit the very ground was covered with corpses; everything before the walls was filled: a terrible sight, a heavy horror, a pestilent smell, which did not distinguish victors from vanquished, harmful to both alike, and a greater hindrance to the Romans, who had to trample the remains lying there with bloodied foot. The land itself lay uncultivated, everything having been cut down that had necessarily to be brought for the use of the soldiers and the engines. For about thirteen miles around the city the ground was laid waste far and wide, and the soil bare of growth. That whole orchard country, in which before green groves, gardens breathing with flowers, various orchards and suburban estates had given a pleasing appearance, any stranger who saw it afterward groaned; the native did not recognize it, and returning to his birthplace, though present there, looked for his homeland.

So when the earthworks and sheds and the other siege engines had been repaired, the fury of war was renewed, as though both sides had united their zeal for the final touch of the work. For the issue was decided with the danger of the whole contest: the Romans would have to raise the siege if the earthworks and rams were burned, since through lack of woods they had no means of repair; and destruction of their homeland hung over the Jews if they gave way in the fight, since the shaken walls were being loosened by the repeated blows of the rams. So the Jews came out with torches, so fierce that, as if the Roman army would give way to them, they scattered fire on the engines and tried to raise the siege. But their strength, now exhausted by famine, and their broken fortunes denied them their former successes; their substance had failed, their daring remained. On the other hand, the Romans felt the greater shame if victory were snatched from their hands by those who were drawing their last breath from hunger. So battle was joined, and the leaders of the sedition, driven back, ran back to the protection of the walls, unequal to the war. But when the walls had become doubtful from the repeated blows of the rams, John, not careless of a last defense, looked about and drew an inner wall, as if in the shape of the letter C. So the next day, when part of the wall had been torn down, the crash of the falling structure and the shout of the Roman army rang out together, as though the destruction had been accomplished by the fall of the wall. But when the sound of the city's doom rang out, the tables were turned: the sight of a new wall checked the unforeseen joy of the Romans, and the daring of the Jews took its place, because the danger was postponed. Then Caesar began to exhort the army to think that new wall must be attacked without any delay, since its recent construction showed it to be weak and easily broken down; let them only dare to advance in spirit; the fragments of the wall would give an easy ascent, so that the Romans in fighting would be put on a level with the Jews fighting from higher ground. And because he saw them hesitating at the difficulty of the task, gathering all the strongest men around him, he kindled them for battle with this speech:

“It is unknown to no one, bravest fellow soldiers, that the end of every undertaking has more trouble than its beginning, because the completion of a task undertaken requires greater labor. For a ship runs free over the whole sea; even if the breezes of the winds do not always blow from the stern, still the helmsman slants the bellying sails, and the strait is cut without resistance. But when one comes to harbor, a favorable temper of the breezes is needed, and the entry of ships is confined within a narrow limit. So the care of danger is greater where hope is near. For builders too the beginnings of the foundations are level, but the works of the lofty roofs are steep; and often, at the very end of finishing the work, the pitiable workman is cheated of the reward of his wage, either buried by the fall of the roof or deceived by an unsteady footing so that he falls to the bottom. What shall I say of the farmer, whose equipment is more laborious for the harvest than for the sowing, for the vintage than for the pruning, and for whom, when the fruits are grown, heavier dangers are always to be feared? It is nothing new, then, if danger still awaits us in the very harbor of completing our course: because we must climb to the Antonia by the narrower ways; so that, having thrown down our adversaries from there and seized the higher place, set above the enemy's heads, we may, as it were, shut off their very breath. But this seems difficult to us, fellow soldiers, as though we had come together for a game and not for war, in which one must either conquer or die like men. You should have made your excuses then, when you were coming to battle, to avenge the disaster of the Roman army and wash away the disgrace of a stained soldiering. If in Nero's time you thought the injury to the Roman name must be avenged, what ought you to wish under Vespasian as emperor? Let us wash away the stain of the earlier reign, lest it cling to ours: the stain which Nero was thought likely to remove through Vespasian, Vespasian will have transferred through Titus to himself, unless we conquer. Our father has left us only the finishing touches of victory to carry out. Shall we, then, after pouring out such labors in vain, retreat disgraced and unavenged, leaving victory behind? As though it were not a lesser crime to leave military service than to desert victory: for the one is of fear, the other of treachery. But you think it dangerous to go down against the enemy and make the wall ring with arms; as though nature itself asked of us the works of women and not of men, nature which poured the breath of life into us so that we might gladly pour it back for glory. To what, then, should a warrior be exhorted by his general, if not to all the greatest things? For exhortation to an ordinary task brings shame not only on those addressed but on those who come together, that you should demand what is owed of one's own accord: for that the soldier ought to supply from himself. And yet what immoderate thing do I demand of you? Is it not better to die by valor than to live for disgrace? Does not the Jew often run out into the middle of the Roman lines and pour himself fearlessly into the enemy's wedges, not in hope of victory, but as a proof of courage and a display of glory? Are you, whom no one by land or sea has yet resisted unpunished, for whom it is not new to conquer and a crime not to have conquered, when you have such supports for conquering, not ashamed never once to have rushed upon the enemy? But to keep leisure in arms and, girt for battle, to wait with holiday minds for famine to fight for us, and for them, overthrown by their own starvation rather than by our swords, to turn triumphs into a reproach for us that we must blush at? Are you not ashamed, I say, vigorous fellow soldiers, conquerors of all nations, to hope nothing from arms, nothing from strength, but from the siege alone, and to wait until the enemy grows old with disease and dies in his own bed? And what victory can there be without war? Everything is full of corpses; ugly remains lie about, the bloodless remnants of the dead, except those whom they themselves have butchered with their own hands among themselves. Why do we fear those whom famine, fire, robbery and sedition have already destroyed? Why do we forsake the divine favors? By whose nod but God's have they been dashed against their own arms? They are also bereft of supplies of food, and there is no end to their domestic fury. I fear we may already seem rebels against religion, who have so long preserved men faithless both to our religion and to their own. But grant that the war is atrocious and fearful. For why should I soothe you with the ease of war? Let victory be uncertain, danger certain. Am I not speaking to men who know by human prudence that the courage of all living things is readier in dangers than in milder contests? Wild beasts themselves, when they see themselves surrounded by arms, rush upon them with greater force, to open a way for themselves by violence. And a serpent driven from its lair pours out more deadly venom. There are also creatures, harmless by nature, which in their own dangers are stronger to do harm. Stags have their own weapons if anyone meets them, and repel death with their horns. Even little bees, when hurt, have their stings. And what shall I say of fighting men among the Romans? When the famous Leonidas, born at Lacedaemon, about to fight against the innumerable army of the Persians, said: ‘Let us lunch on earth, since we shall dine among the dead.’ This saying had such power among the Greeks that not only of the three hundred Lacedaemonian men whom he commanded did no one withdraw except one alone, whom afterward no one received as a survivor, but also of the others who had gone out to fight together with them, none withdrew except those whom Leonidas rejected as unworthy of so great a war. What shall I say of whole legions of the Romans, of whom Cato, the champion of Roman eloquence and a sincere interpreter of truth, declared that they went out exultantly to war to a place from which they thought they would not return, and that all fell gladly, so as not to change their resolve? Blessed are they of whom none announced the enemy's victory to his own by flight. Of the three hundred Lacedaemonians, however, one man slipped away; they fought in a narrow pass so as not to be surrounded. Of the Roman legions no one chose life, but all the inheritance of death, whose descendants you are, if, by contempt of dangers, as of a glorious nature, you do not deny the lineage of courage. For who among brave men does not know that he is mortal, and that an end of living is set for all? How much better, then, to spend on the homeland what you owe to nature, and to exchange necessity for glory; not to cast away a life subject to the panting sighs of old age, nor to dread the chances of burning sickness, when those worn out with age have daily weariness! Of those who waste away in languor, their strength and their senses failing together, it is the opinion of many that their souls are consigned to the tomb together with the body. But of warriors and the most vigorous men, who have devoted themselves to death for their homeland, for their children, for religion, no one doubts that their souls, released by the sword from the bonds of this body, are received by that pure ethereal element, shining with the light of the stars, in heavenly dwellings, in a kind of lodging of supernal rest; and that on earth too there remains some mark of favor or of injury, so that oblivion hides those worn out by languor, while glory follows those who bear their breast against the enemy, if death comes. To these rewards I invite you, fellow soldiers: that we go against the enemy, whom we hold shut in; let us climb the wall by the ruin of the stronger wall, which offers us as it were an earthwork and is level with the lower wall. Whoever, carrying the banner of valor, climbs the wall first, or second, or third, or as a companion of more, shall by no means go away from me without a rich reward; though there is no greater recompense than the glory of courage, which is often safer. For as soon as someone most confident in spirit and strength has climbed up, those who were resisting will flee, either taking themselves to the lower parts or hiding in lurking places; so that what is now of the greatest danger, if we seek them in the lower places, will follow without great labor, so that with the enemy thrown down the war is finished.”

Titus had scarcely ended his speech when Sabinus, one of the men from Syria, an outstanding warrior, offered himself and, standing before Caesar, said that he obeyed his commands and was ready for the ascent: if success attended him, so as to please Caesar; if he were destroyed amid success, nothing would happen to him beyond his hope, since by his own judgment he had chosen to die for Caesar. With these words, stretching out his left hand, he raised his shield over his head, and brandishing his sword in his right, he rose up in arms to an astonishing degree, so that anyone would not have recognized him whom a little before he had thought contemptible for the appearance of his slight body, when he suddenly saw him advance against the enemy and stretch himself out, threatening the enemy and the walls alike, as though, grown taller, he were fighting against those below him and shaking the wall with his hand. Eleven men followed him, eager to imitate him but unequal to keeping up. The Jews fought back from the wall with spears, stones and arrows, and whatever weapon each man's hand had found was hurled down on Sabinus. But he, undaunted, with a swift run leapt onto the heap of rubble and, placed on the top, turned back the enemy, while each man nearest him feared the danger. But while he was poising himself to rise onto the wall and, sure of victory, was bearing down on the enemy, he slipped and fell on his face with a very great noise. Called back by this, the Jews began to press him with missiles as he lay. He, propped on his knee and protecting himself with his shield as long as he could, kept off wounds, and left no one unscathed whom he found nearest. At last, however, covered with wounds, he laid down his breath before he laid down the fight; he was neither thrown from his position nor cast off the wall except in death. Three others were also killed, and eight half dead, though they were rescued from destruction by the rest.

Nor was Sabinus's death a terror to the rest; it was rather a spur. For the Roman men who were keeping the duties of the watch, eager to make up by the effect of their work for having been forestalled by Sabinus's zeal, twenty in number, formed a great and memorable plan: having called the standard-bearer of the fifth legion, and two men of the cavalry whom they thought readier, and one trumpeter, at the fifth hour of the night they climbed in silence up over the heaps of the broken wall to the higher parts and, having killed the guards, seized the wall of the Antonia. When this was done, the trumpet sounded more terribly than usual, so that the Jews, tired with labor and relaxed in sleep, were thrown into confusion unexpectedly, believing that everything was full of enemies. So they began to flee before the truth was plain. For the hazard of the danger and the darkness of the gloomy night did not allow it to be known how many there were. And Caesar, hearing the blast of the trumpet, ordered the army to arm; he himself with chosen men was the first to climb the wall, a help to his own and a hindrance to the enemy. Day dawned, and now Caesar, conspicuous on the wall, was encouraging his men: some were lifted onto the wall by the hands of their comrades, others let themselves down into the city through the mine that John had dug to undermine the Romans' earthworks. Their own defenses were turned to the ruin of the faithless; shut out on every side, they betook themselves into the temple. The Romans, wishing to break in there too, were held back by the narrow ways and driven back by arms. A heavy battle took place in the forecourt, no longer waged with spears or arrows but with swords at close quarters: hand to wound, sword upon sword, blow upon blow; the slayer was drenched with the blood of the slain, so that he himself was rather thought to be the one struck. In the temple itself the fury of war ruled. The pavements swam with blood; the groans of the dying and the shouts of the victors resounded without order or measure. Hope of finishing the contest had kindled the Romans; the final destruction of their homeland had taken away from the Jews the fear of death. The former fed their courage with the reward of glory; the latter, in despair of safety, poured out every provision of courage and kept nothing back.

A most splendid deed too was attempted by Julianus, a centurion, a man very great in arms, who came from the province of Bithynia but was accustomed to Roman discipline, trained in wars and distinguished by the campaigns of an honored service. As he stood near Caesar, when he saw the Romans in difficulty, because the Jews were superior in number and the Romans present were still fewer, he suddenly rushed out from the Antonia and turned back those who were pursuing; nor did they dare to resist, at the very sight of a most excellent man and a kind of proud authority of courage beyond human measure, so that Caesar himself was amazed. O varied and uncertain throw of the dice, as it were, of wars! Which, as by a throw, so by a kind of chance rather than by courage, often plays with unexpected outcomes, supplying new ends. For there too are throws, not indeed of dice, but of arrows and many weapons and stones too, by which the victor is often laid low by another's wound; and while he seizes others' spoils, he is himself despoiled. So it was with this Julianus, who was pressing on the backs of the enemy; while he killed some and hemmed them in their enclosure, made more careless by his very eagerness, wearing shoes fixed with nails, as is the custom of military men, he did not consider that the ground was paved with polished stone, which he should beware of; but as if fighting securely in a field, he slipped and made a great noise in his fall. Nor could he rise, thrown down on the slippery ground; yet, holding himself up on his knee, he drove back the enemy who had returned, so as to cut down those who approached and guard as much as he could against those throwing weapons. But, worn out and overwhelmed by the multitude, alone though he was, because no one dared to put himself in such danger, yet not contemptible nor unavenged, he fell vigorously. Not indeed, as I think, was he worthy of such an end, that the great courage of the man should be so cheated. But in war prudence is of very great value, which, always cautious and clear-sighted, foresees the chances of uncertain things. Alone he rushed out from the Antonia, alone he charged into the enemy's columns, alone he mixed with armed men, alone he forced the Jews back into the temple. I fear that this was rather what harmed him: because those unfaithful to God had to be driven out of the temple, therefore his fall found no remedy. Titus watched him with joy as he conquered, with great grief as he was in danger; he wished to help him, but he was far away. He was held back by his own men, because in a soldier the lot of one is at stake, in a general the danger of all; the example taught what Caesar ought rather to beware of than to follow. In the end the allies were so dismayed, and the adversaries so elated, that Julianus's body came into the power of the enemy, as though they still feared him even dead if he were given back to the Romans. When Julianus was slain, the rest easily gave way. For they had not yet come up in numbers, and the occasion of his death had increased the courage of the Jews. Most ready in that battle to repel the Romans were Alexas and Gyphthaeus of John's sworn band, who were champions of his faction; of Simon's side, Malachias and James, the leader of the Idumaeans, outstanding warriors; and the sons of Ari, and Judas, men of the third faction, striving together, who with joined forces drove the Romans back and shut them within the Antonia.

Titus, on the other hand, judging the narrow spaces of the Antonia not a protection but a hindrance to himself, ordered its fortification to be razed to the ground, so that a way against the enemy would be opened for those about to engage. And learning that the solemnity of the Jews' feast days was approaching, he ordered Josephus to interpret in the Hebrew language what he himself would say: What reason, curse it, persuaded John to provoke the Romans? If he had confidence in his courage, let him choose another place for battle and go there, provided he spared the city; let him not defile the temple, nor hinder the sacrifices of the feast days; let him leave those he judged suitable for the ministry of the sacrifices; let him give proof of his courage wherever he wished, apart from the city and the temple; Caesar's soldiers would not be lacking for an engagement; he was being forced unwillingly to the overthrow of the whole city, whose remains he wished to preserve if John would allow it; torches hung over the temple, not because the Romans were hastening to burn the temple, but to lead the instigators of war out of the temple. If they believed themselves conquered, let them surrender; but if they hoped to be victors, let them not withdraw within their barriers but defend themselves in the open field, so that the temple, with the fires now creeping on, might be snatched away and be free for its purifications. And when Josephus interpreted this to the Jews, it was heard in silence; the common people approved it silently but were afraid to reveal their opinion. John answered them that no sacrifice was more acceptable to God than for men consecrated to God to lay down their lives for the altars, for the hearths, for the temple; and therefore, if necessary, they would gladly fall for liberty; yet he hoped that the city of God could not suffer destruction. Titus to this: “Is it rightly, then, that you keep the city pure for God and the sanctuary unstained, by killing citizens, murdering the innocent, destroying priests? By such crimes divine things are not appeased but offended. You have deprived your God of the rites of sacrifices. If someone denied you food, John, you would complain of it: to your God his victims are not offered, his gifts are not rendered, men are butchered, and do you still think God helps you? Truly the deeds themselves teach it; the heap of the slain and the mounds of your calamities bear witness. Who, seeing these things, would not groan? Nor would I blame you for fighting for your homeland, if I did not wish to spare, if I did not wish to preserve your homeland or the temple. For Carthage was not so worthy, nor is a Hebrew to be feared like Hannibal, who had subdued the middle part of the Roman world; and yet Carthage too was restored, which bore the rebellious spirits of its citizens up to its own destruction. On my word, I pledge that all these things will be safe for you; I promise you pardon and safety, not as a reward for crime, but for the redemption of the city, so that I may redeem from you the standing of roofs that are about to perish. I warn you to cease disturbing the purpose of Roman mercy with your robberies. Jerusalem will not be feared so as to be destroyed, when Antioch, superior in strength, was preserved. Certainly your Jeconiah trusted even the Persians and, going out of the city, committed himself with his nearest kin to barbarian fury, so that the city would not be overthrown on his account. His memory is celebrated by you, as your own people assert; that is, Josephus vouches for him and is witness of the celebration by which you honor the man who offered himself to captivity for his homeland. Even the barbarian Persian preserved him, and I promise you impunity. Certainly Josephus too bore arms against the Romans: believe a promise of which we have already given an example. We give you Josephus as surety of our pledge; indeed we have already given him, since we preserved him. Let him speak to you in your native language, let him bind himself by the rite you are accustomed to: I am not ashamed to seek a surety and to give a guarantor, so as not to show myself a destroyer when I wish to spare.” At this Josephus wept, entreated John, lamented the state of the homeland, implored him with tearful words, called on him as a citizen, though more stubborn than the rest; he called to witness the grace of almighty God that he would be safe with his own, if only he would stop rousing the Roman soldiers to the overthrow of the city. When he could not bind him, he said: “It is no wonder, John, if you persist to the destruction of the homeland, since the divine protections have already left it. But it is a wonder that you do not believe it will perish, though you have read the prophetic books, in which the destruction of our homeland was announced to us, and that the restored buildings must again be torn down by a Roman army. For what else does Daniel cry out? For he prophesied not what had already happened but what was to come afterward: what is the abomination of desolation, which he proclaimed would come when the Romans came, if not this which now hangs over us? What is that oracle, often recalled by us, announced by the most high God: that the city would perish utterly when a fellow tribesman of theirs had been put to death by the hands of the citizens, if not what we now see fulfilled? And perhaps, since it no longer pleases God that the temple be defended, stained with forbidden blood, it pleases him that it be purified by fire.”