Otho

Plutarch

Plutarch. Plutarch's Lives, Vol. XI. Perrin, Bernadotte, translator. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann Ltd., 1926.

To Otho there came at first, as is usual in such catastrophes, an indistinct rumour of the result; but presently some of his soldiers who had been wounded came with direct tidings of the battle. Here one cannot so much wonder that his friends would not let him give up all for lost, and exhorted him to be of good cheer; but the feelings of his soldiers towards him passed all belief. Not a man of them left him,

or went over to the victorious side, or was seen to despair of the emperor’s cause and seek his own safety, but all alike came to his door, called upon him as emperor, became his humble suppliants when he appeared before them, seized his hands with cries and prayers, fell down before him, wept, begged him not to abandon them, and not to betray them to their enemies, but to use their lives and persons in his service as long as they had breath.

Such were their united supplications. And one obscure soldier held up his sword, and with the words Know, O Caesar, that all of us stand in this fashion at thy side, slew himself. None of these things, however, broke Otho down, but looking all around with a countenance composed and cheerful, he said: This day, my fellow-soldiers, I deem more blessed than that on which ye first made me emperor, since I see you so devoted to me and am judged worthy of so high honour at your hands.