As he was coasting along, he saw a whip of burden just ready to sail; the master of which was Peticius, a Roman citizen, who, though not acquainted with Pompey, knew him by sight. Therefore, without waiting for any further application, he took him up, and such of his companions as he thought proper, and then hoisted sail. The persons Pompey took with him, were the two Lentuli and Favonius; and a little after, they saw king Deiotarus beckoning to them with great earnestness from the shore, and took him up likewise. The master of the ship provided them with the best supper he could, and when it was almost ready, Pompey, for want of a servant, was going to wash himself, but Favonius, seeing it, stepped up, and both washed and anointed him. All the time he was on board, he continued to wait upon him in all the offices of a servant, even to the washing of his feet and providing his supper; insomuch, that one who saw the unaffected simplicity and sincere attachment with which Favonius performed these offices, cried out-- The generous mind adds dignity To every act, and nothing misbecomes it. Pompey, in the course of his voyage, sailed by Amphipolis, and from thence steered for Mitylene, to take up Cornelia and his son. As soon as he reached the island, he sent a messenger to the town with news far different from what Cornelia expected. For, by the flattering accounts which many officious persons had given her, she understood that the dispute was decided at Dyrrhachium, and that nothing but the pursuit of Caesar remained to be attended to. The messenger, finding her possessed with such hopes, had not power to make the usual salutations; but expressing the greatness of Pompey's misfortunes by his tears rather than words, only told her she must make haste if she had a mind to see Pompey with one ship only, and that not his own. At this news Cornelia threw herself upon the ground, where she lay a long time insensible and speechless. At last, coming to herself, she perceived there was no time to be lost in tears and lamentations, and therefore hastened through the town to the sea. Pompey ran to meet her, and received her to his arms as she was just going to fall. While she hung upon his neck, she thus addressed him: "I see, my dear husband, your present unhappy condition is the effect of my ill fortune, and not yours. Alas! how are you reduced to one poor vessel, who, before your marriage with Cornelia, traversed the sea with 500 galleys! Why did you come to see me, and not rather leave me to my evil destiny, who have loaded you, too, with such a weight of calamities? How happy had it been for me to have died before I heard that Publius, my first husband, was killed by the Parthians! How wise, had I followed him to the grave, as I once intended! What have I lived for since, but to bring misfortunes upon Pompey the Great?"