Camillus

After this, the case of the Gauls was less hopeful. They lacked provisions, being shut off from foraging through fear of Camillus, and disease lurked among them. They were encamped amid ruins, where a multitude of corpses had been cast at random, and besides, an air made dry and acrid by vast quantities of ashes which wind and heat sent flying abroad, made breathing hurtful.

But what most of all affected them was the complete change in their mode of life. They had come all at once from regions of shade, where easy refuge could be had from the heats of summer, into a land which was low lying and had an unnatural climate towards autumn. Then there was their long and idle sitting down before the Capitol,—they were now whiling away the seventh month in its siege. For all these reasons the mortality was great in their camp; so many were the dead that they could no longer be buried.

All this, however, brought no relief to the besieged, for famine increased upon them, and their ignorance of what Camillus was doing made them dejected. No messenger could come from him because the city was now closely watched by the Barbarians. Wherefore, both parties being in such a plight, a compromise was proposed, at first by the outposts as they encountered one another.

Then, since those in authority thought it best, Sulpicius, the military tribune of the Romans, held a conference with Brennus, and it was agreed that on the delivery of a thousand pounds of gold by the Romans, the Gauls should straightway depart out of the city and the country. Oaths were sworn to these terms, and the gold was brought to be weighed. But the Gauls tampered with the scales, secretly at first, then they openly pulled the balance back out of its poise. The Romans were incensed at this,

but Brennus, with a mocking laugh, stripped off his sword, and added it, belt and all, to the weights. When Sulpicius asked, What means this? What else, said Brennus, but woe to the vanquished? [*](Vae victis!) and the phrase passed at once into a proverb. Some of the Romans were incensed, and thought they ought to go back again with their gold, and endure the siege. Others urged acquiescence in the mild injustice. Their shame lay, they argued, not in giving more, but in giving at all. This they consented to do because of the emergency; it was not honourable, but it was necessary.