In the mean time, Auletes, the father, went on toward Rome.  So far as his character and his story were known among the surrounding nations, he was the object of universal obloquy, both on account of his previous career of degrading vice, and now, still more, for this ignoble flight from the difficulties in which his vices and crimes had involved him.

He stopped, on the way, at the island of Rhodes.  It happened that Cato, the great Roman philosopher and general, was at Rhodes at this time.  Cato was a man of stern, unbending virtue, and of great influence at that period in public affairs.  Ptolemy sent a messenger to inform Cato of his arrival, supposing, of course, that the Roman general would hasten, on hearing of the fact, to pay his respects to so great a personage as he, a king of Egypt—­a Ptolemy—­though suffering under a temporary reverse of fortune.  Cato directed the messenger to reply that, so far as he was aware, he had no particular business with Ptolemy.  “Say, however, to the king,” he added, “that, if he has any business with me, he may call and see me, if he pleases.”

Ptolemy was obliged to suppress his resentment and submit.  He thought it very essential to the success of his plans that he should see Cato, and secure, if possible, his interest and co-operation; and he consequently made preparations for paying, instead of receiving, the visit, intending to go in the greatest royal state that he could command.  He accordingly appeared at Cato’s lodgings on the following day, magnificently dressed, and accompanied by many attendants.  Cato, who was dressed in the plainest and most simple manner, and whose apartment was furnished in a style corresponding with the severity of his character, did not even rise when the king entered the room.  He simply pointed with his hand, and bade the visitor take a seat.

Ptolemy began to make a statement of his case, with a view to obtaining Cato’s influence with the Roman people to induce them to interpose in his behalf.  Cato, however, far from evincing any disposition to espouse his visitor’s cause, censured him, in the plainest terms, for having abandoned his proper position in his own kingdom, to go and make himself a victim and a prey for the insatiable avarice of the Roman leaders.  “You can do nothing at Rome,” he said, “but by the influence of bribes; and all the resources of Egypt will not be enough to satisfy the Roman greediness for money.”  He concluded by recommending him to go back to Alexandria, and rely for his hopes of extrication from the difficulties which surrounded him on the exercise of his own energy and resolution there.

Ptolemy was greatly abashed at this rebuff, but, on consultation with his attendants and followers, it was decided to be too late now to return.  The whole party accordingly re-embarked on board their galleys, and pursued their way to Rome.