After Macedon was ruined the Romans resolved to put down all stirrings of resistance to them in the rest of Greece.  Their friend Callicrates, therefore, accused all the Achaians who had been friendly to Perseus, or who had any brave spirit—1000 in number—of conspiring against Rome, and called on the League to sentence them to death; but as this proposal was heard with horror, they were sent to Rome to justify themselves, and the Roman senate, choosing to suppose they had been judged by the League, sentenced them never to return to Achaia.  Polybius was among them, so that his home was thenceforth in the house of his pupils, the sons of Æmilius.  Many times did the Achaians send entreaties that they might be set at liberty, and at last, after seventeen years, Polybius’ pupils persuaded the great senator Cato to speak for them, and he did so, but in a very rough, unfeeling way.  “Anyone who saw us disputing whether a set of poor old Greeks should be buried by our grave-diggers or their own would think we had nothing else to do,” he said.  So the Romans consented to their going home; but when they asked to have all their rank and honours restored to them, Cato said, “Polybius, you are less wise than Ulysses.  You want to go back into the Cyclops’ cave for the wretched rags and tatters you left behind you there.”  After all, Polybius either did not go home or did not stay there, for he was soon again with his beloved pupils; and in the seventeen years of exile the 1000 had so melted away that only 300 went home again.