Now, Philopoemen was lying down wrapped in his soldier’s cloak, not sleeping, but overwhelmed with trouble and grief. When, however, he saw a light and a man standing by him holding the cup of poison, he pulled himself together as much as his weakness permitted and sat up. Then taking the cup he asked the man if he had heard anything about the horsemen, and particularly about Lycortas, and on being told by him that the greater part of them had escaped, he nodded his head, and with a kindly look at the man said to him: That is good news, if we have not wholly lost. Without another word and even without a sigh he drained the cup and laid himself down again. He did not give the poison much to do, but breathed his last speedily, so weak was he.