Antipater on Trial

The next day the king assembled a council of his relatives and friends, and invited Antipater’s friends as well. He presided himself, together with Varus, and ordered all the informers to be brought in. Among them were some household slaves of Antipater’s mother, who had been caught not long before carrying a letter from her to her son. It read: “Since all those things have been discovered by your father, do not come to him unless you can obtain some backing from Caesar.” When these had been brought in with the rest, Antipater entered. He fell on his face before his father’s feet and said, “Father, I beg you not to condemn me in advance, but to lend your ears without prejudice to my defense. For if you are willing, I will show that I am innocent.” [a]

Herod shouted at him to be silent, and said to Varus, “That you, Varus, and every upright judge will find Antipater an utter villain, I am fully convinced. What I fear is that you will loathe my fortune as well, and judge me myself deserving of every disaster for having fathered such sons. Yet for that very reason I ought rather to be pitied, because I was a most loving father to such wicked sons. My earlier sons I counted worthy of the throne while they were still young; besides their upbringing in Rome I made them friends of Caesar and the envy of other kings; and I found them plotting against me. They are dead — chiefly for Antipater’s sake, for since he was young and my successor, it was his safety above all that I was securing. [b]

“But this filthy beast, gorged on my forbearance, has turned his surfeit against me. I seemed to him to be living too long; my old age weighed on him; he could not bear to become king except by killing his father. And I suppose he had good reason to plot it, since I brought him back from the countryside where he had been cast off, pushed aside the sons a queen had borne me, and named him heir to my throne. I confess my madness to you, Varus. I provoked those sons against me by cutting off their just hopes for Antipater’s sake. What did I ever do for them as great as what I did for him? While I was still living I all but handed him my authority. I openly wrote him into my will as heir to my throne. I assigned him a private income of fifty talents and supplied him freely from my own wealth. Just now, when he was sailing for Rome, I gave him three hundred talents, and of my whole family I commended him alone to Caesar, as his father’s savior. What crime did those others commit like Antipater’s? What proof was brought against them as strong as the proof that shows this man a plotter? Yet this father-murderer has dared to open his mouth, and hopes once again to cover the truth with his tricks. Varus, you must be on your guard. I know this beast. I foresee the plausible show he will put on, and his counterfeit wailing. This is the man who once urged me to beware of Alexander while he lived, and not to trust my person to everyone. This is the one who escorted me right to my bed and looked around in case anyone lay in wait for me. This was the steward of my sleep and the provider of my peace of mind, who consoled my grief for the sons I had put to death and weighed the loyalty of the brothers still living — my protector, my bodyguard! When I remember, Varus, his cunning in every one of these things, and his playacting, I can hardly believe I am alive, and I wonder how I escaped so deep a plotter. But since some evil power keeps emptying my house and always raises up those dearest to me against me, I will weep over my unjust fate and groan to myself over my loneliness. Yet no one who has thirsted for my blood will escape, even if the proof should run through every one of my children.”

As he said this, his confusion cut him short, and he signaled to Nicolaus, one of his friends, to present the proofs. Meanwhile Antipater raised his head — for he was still lying before his father’s feet — and cried out, “You yourself, father, have made my defense for me. How can I be a father-murderer, when you admit that you have always had me as your guardian? You call my devotion to you a sham and playacting. But how could I, so cunning in everything else, be so senseless as not to realize that a crime so foul is not easy to hide even from men while it is being prepared, and impossible to hide from the Judge in heaven, who sees all things and is present everywhere? Or did I not know what end my brothers came to, whom God punished so for their evil designs against you? And what could have provoked me against you? Hope of the kingdom? But I was reigning already. Suspicion of your hatred? Was I not loved? Some other fear of you? But by guarding you I made others fear me. Lack of money? Who was freer to spend than I? Father, even had I been the most abandoned of all men and had the soul of a savage beast, would I not have been overcome by your kindnesses? You brought me back, as you said yourself; you preferred me to so many sons; you proclaimed me king in your own lifetime; and by the abundance of your other gifts you made me the object of envy. How wretched I am for that bitter journey abroad! What a long opportunity I gave to envy, and what a wide margin to those plotting against me! Yet it was for you, father, and for your lawsuits that I was away, so that Syllaeus would not treat your old age with contempt. Rome is witness to my devotion, and so is Caesar, the protector of the whole world, who often called me ‘Philopator.’ Take his letters, father. These are more trustworthy than the slanders here; these are my only defense; these I offer as the proofs of my love for you. Remember that I did not sail willingly, for I knew the hostility against me lurking in the kingdom. It was you, father, who ruined me without meaning to, by forcing me to give envy time for slander. But here I am to face the proofs. Here I am, the father-murderer, having come through land and sea without suffering harm anywhere! Yet do not love me for this proof just yet; for I stand condemned before God and before you, father. And since I am condemned, I ask you not to trust the tortures of others. Let the fire be brought against me! Let the instruments make their way through my vitals! Let no wailing of this polluted body be spared! For if I am a father-murderer, I ought not to die untortured.” With such cries, wailing and weeping, he moved all the others, and Varus too, to pity. Only Herod was kept from tears by his anger, for he knew the proofs were true. [e]

Then, at the king’s command, Nicolaus spoke. He began with a long account of Antipater’s cunning, dispelling the pity felt for him, and then launched into a bitter accusation, laying at his door every crime committed in the kingdom, and above all the killing of his brothers, showing that they had perished through his slanders. He said that Antipater was also plotting against the brothers still living, as rivals lying in wait for the succession; for surely one who had prepared poison for his father would hardly keep his hands off his brothers. Moving on to the proof of the poisoning, he set out the informers’ evidence in order and spoke with indignation about Pheroras, since Antipater had made even him a would-be murderer of his brother, and by corrupting those dearest to the king had filled the whole house with pollution. He said much more besides, gave his proofs, and ended his speech. [g]

Varus told Antipater to make his defense. He said nothing more than, “God is my witness that I have done no wrong,” and lay there in silence. So Varus asked for the poison and gave it to a prisoner condemned to death to drink. The man died on the spot. Varus then held a private conversation with Herod, wrote to Caesar about the council, and after one day left. The king put Antipater in chains and sent men to Caesar to report his misfortune.

After this it was discovered that Antipater had also plotted against Salome. One of Antiphilus’s servants arrived from Rome bringing letters from a maidservant of Livia named Acme. She had written to the king that she had found letters from Salome among Livia’s papers and had sent them to him secretly out of goodwill. These letters of Salome’s contained the most bitter abuse of the king and the gravest charges against him. Antipater had forged them, bribed Acme, and persuaded her to send them to Herod. He was exposed by her letter to him, for the woman had written to him too: “As you wished, I have written to your father and sent those letters, and I am sure the king will not spare his sister when he reads them. You will do well to remember what you promised, once everything is accomplished.” [h]

When this letter was discovered, along with the forgeries against Salome, the thought struck the king that perhaps the letters against Alexander had been forged too. He was in anguish that he had nearly killed his sister as well because of Antipater. So he no longer put off taking vengeance for everything. But as he was setting out against Antipater, he was checked by a severe illness. He did, however, write to Caesar about Acme and the plot against Salome. He also asked for his will and rewrote it. He named Antipas king, passing over his eldest sons, Archelaus and Philip, since Antipater had slandered them too. To Caesar he left a thousand talents besides other gifts, and to Caesar’s wife and children, friends and freedmen about five hundred. To everyone else he also left a good deal of land and money, and he honored his sister Salome with the most splendid gifts. These were the changes he made in his will. [i]