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The Death of Archimedes
As it happens, the story of Archimedes is not exactly as the
history books have portrayed it. While it is true that he was
killed when the Romans conquered Syracuse, it is not correct that
a Roman soldier broke into his house to plunder it, and that Archim
edes, absorbed in drawing some sort of geometrical figure, growled
at him crossly: "Don't spoil my circles!" For one thing,
Archimedes was not some absent-minded professor who didn't know
what was going on around him; on the contrary, he was by
temperament a true soldier who had invented war machinery for the
Syracusans to defend their city. For another thing, the Roman
soldier was not some drunken looter, but the educated and
ambitious Staff Captain Lucius, who knew to whom he had the honor
of speaking, and who had not come to plunder, but rather gave a
military salute at the doorstep and said: "Greetings, Archimedes."
Archimedes raised his eyes from the wax tablet on which he
was in fact drawing something and said: "What is it?"
"Archimedes," said Lucius, "we know that without your war
machinery Syracuse wouldn't have held out for a month; as it is,
we've had a rough two years because of them. Don't think we
soldiers don't appreciate that. They're superb machines. My
congratulations."
Archimedes waved his hand. "Please, they're nothing really.
Ordinary hurling mechanisms—mere toys, that's all. Scientifically,
they have little value."
"But militarily they do," said Lucius. "Listen, Archimedes,
I've come to ask you to work with us."
"With whom?"
"With us, the Romans. Surely you know that Carthage is in
decline. Why go on helping them? We'll teach them a lesson
instead! You'd do better to be on our side, all of you."
"Why?" grumbled Archimedes. "As fate would have it, we
Syracusans are Greeks. Why should we side with you?"
"Because you live in Sicily, and we need Sicily."
"And why do you need it?"
"Because we intend to control the Mediterranean Sea."
"Aha," Archimedes said, and he contemplated his tablet. "And
why do you want to do that?"
"Whoever is master of the Mediterranean," said Lucius, "is
master of the world. That's clear enough."
"And must you be masters of the world?"
"Yes. The mission of Rome is to be master of the world. And
I'm telling you that it will be."
"Possibly," Archimedes said, and he rubbed out a line on his
tablet. "But I wouldn't advise it, Lucius. Listen, to be master of
the world—someday defending your position's going to be one big
headache. It wouldn't be worth the effort, given all you'd have to
do."
"No matter; we shall be a great empire."
"A great empire," muttered Archimedes. "Whether I draw a
small circle or a large circle, it's still only a circle. There
are still frontiers—you will never be without frontiers, Lucius.
Do you think a large circle is more perfect than a small circle?
Do you think you're a greater geometrician if you draw a larger
circle?"
"You Greeks are forever playing with arguments," Captain
Lucius objected. "We have another way of proving that we're right."
"How?"
"Action. For instance, we have conquered your Syracuse. Ergo,
Syracuse belongs to us. Is that a clear proof?"
"It is," Archimedes said, and he scratched his head with his
stylus. "Yes, you have conquered Syracuse, except that it is not
and never will be the same Syracuse it was before. It was a great
and celebrated city, my good fellow; now it will never be great
again. Poor Syracuse!"
"But Rome will be great. Rome must be the strongest of all
the lands in the world."
"Why?"
"To maintain her position. The stronger we are, the more
enemies we have. That's why we must be the strongest force."
"As to force," muttered Archimedes, "I'm a physicist of
sorts, Lucius, and I'll tell you something. Force limits itself."
"What does that mean?"
"It's a sort of law, Lucius. When force is exerted, it limits
itself by that action. The greater your force, the more of your
strength you use up; and the time will come—"
"What are you trying to say?"
"Nothing, really. I'm not a prophet, Lucius, only a
physicist. Force limits itself. More than that I do not know."
"Listen, Archimedes, you can't imagine the tremendous
opportunities that working with us would open up for you in Rome.
You could build the mightiest war engines in the world."
"You'll have to forgive me, Lucius; I'm an old man, and I
still have one or two ideas I'd like to work on.—As you can see,
I'm trying to design something right now."
"Archimedes, aren't you enticed by the idea of conquering the
world with us and ruling it?—Why are you silent?"
"Sorry," Archimedes muttered, bent over his tablet. "What did
you say?"
"That a man like you could conquer the world."
"Hm, the world," Archimedes said, engrossed in his drawing.
"Please don't take offense, but I'm doing something more important
here. Something more lasting, you see. Something that will truly
endure."
"What is it?"
"Careful, don't smear my circles! It's a method for
calculating the area of a sector of a circle."
Later it was reported that the learned Archimedes had met his
death through an accident.
