you spoke of me. But for my dear husband, forget none of what might bring him glory
and all that was truly in him. Speak of his formidable fervor towards his enemies, of
his love for his subjects, and of the respect he inspired in all the neighboring princes. Speak of the
great qualities of his soul and the graces he had received from nature. Praise his courage
in war, his gentleness in times of peace, his fairness, and his mercy towards all. Ultimately, envision-
ing an accomplished prince, and you will have the true portrait of Mausolus. But after
having said all these things about this illustrious husband, ardently speak of the love he had
for me and the one I have always had for him. Express this passion as strong, pure, and
faithful as it was. Disabuse those who believe that crime fuels love and
think that a legitimate passion can not be as fervent, enduring, and pleasant. Teach them
that Mausolus and I provide an example that shatters all their experiences and all their
reasonings, for even if our love was touched by innocence, it was no less
burning, enduring until death, and infinitely pleasant to us. Therefore, speak admirably of
this bond that compels two illustrious persons to love forever. But if
possible, hurry to satisfy me. Use your eloquence to persuade
all those who work on the tomb of Mausolus to accelerate their work, for mine is
soon coming to an end. The mere ashes that remain of my beloved Mausolus will soon be
consumed, and once this is done, I will have nothing more to do in this world. All that is on
earth can no longer arouse my spirit. I am insensitive to everything except pain.
The only desire inhabiting my soul is to join my dear Mausolus and to assure that you
will take care of his glory. Your own gratitude should encourage you, the
compassion should push you, and if other rewards are permissible to give
to philosophers besides the mere pleasure of doing good, consider the expenses I incur for the
construction of this magnificent tomb, and judge that the one who spends so much treasure on silent
marbles will not be stingy when you speak in the glory of her dear Mausolus. However,
no matter how eager you are to satisfy me, neither the architects nor you will have finished your
works as fast as I will finish mine. And if I'm not mistaken, I will die soon enough
to allow you to illuminate Mausolus' praise with the death of his Artemisia.


Effect of this discourse

This virtuous queen obtained what she desired: Isocrates and Theopompe spoke of her
beloved Mausolus so laudably that some accused them of interested flattery. As for
her, it was appropriate that she pressed the architects, because this lavish tomb was not< hr> complete when she was laid to rest in it. Those who had undertaken this miraculous work
did not fail to complete it. For a long time, it was one of the wonders of the world, and



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