As soon as they had applied the first dressing to the wounds of the king of Messenia and of his officers, there arose a new contention among the Messenians, that was pursued with as much warmth as the former, but was of a very different kind, and yet the consequence of the other. The affair in question was the adjudging the prize of glory to him that had signalized his valour most in the late engagement. It was a custom among them, which had long been established, publicly to proclaim, after a battle, the name of the man that had showed the greatest courage. Nothing could be more proper to animate the officers and soldiers, to inspire them with resolution and intrepidity, and to stifle the natural apprehension of death and danger. Two illustrious champions entered the lists on this occasion, namely, Cleonnis and Aristomenes. The king, notwithstanding his weak condition, attended by the principal officers of his army, presided in the council, where this important dispute was to be decided. Each competitor pleaded his own cause. Cleonnis founded his pretensions upon the great number of the enemies he had slain, and upon the multitude of wounds he had received in the action, which were so many undoubted testimonies of the courage with which he had faced both death and danger; whereas, the condition in which Aristomenes came out of the engagement, without hurt and without wound, seemed to show, that he had been very careful of his own person, or, at most, could only prove that he had been more fortunate, but not more brave or courageous, than himself. And as to his having carried him on his shoulders into the camp, that action indeed might serve to prove the strength of his body, but nothing farther; and the thing in dispute at this time, says he, is not strength, but valour. The only thing Aristomenes was reproached for, was his not being wounded; therefore he confined himself to that point: “I am,” says he, “called fortunate because I have escaped from the battle without wounds. If that were owing to my cowardice, I should deserve another epithet than that of fortunate; and, instead of being admitted to dispute the prize, ought to undergo the rigour of the laws that punish cowards. But what is objected to me as a crime, is in truth my greatest glory. For, if my enemies, astonished at my valour, durst not venture to attack or oppose me, it is no small degree of merit that I made them fear me; or, if whilst they engaged me, I had at the same time strength to cut them in pieces, and skill to guard against their attacks, I must then have been at once both valiant and prudent. For whoever, in the midst of an engagement, can expose himself to dangers with caution and security, shows that he excels at the same time both in the virtues of the mind and the body. As for courage, no man living can reproach Cleonnis with any want of it; but, for his honour’s sake, I am sorry that he should appear to want gratitude.”