Otho

But do not rob me of a greater blessedness-that of dying nobly in behalf of fellow-citizens so many and so good. If I was worthy to be Roman emperor, I ought to give my life freely for my country. I know that the victory of our adversaries is neither decisive nor assured. I have word that our forces from Mysia are already approaching the Adriatic, and are only a few days distant from us.

Asia, Syria, Egypt, and the armies fighting against the Jews, are on our side; the senate, too, is with us, as well as the wives and children of our adversaries. Still, it is not to defend Italy against Hannibal, or Pyrrhus, or the Cimbri, that our war is waged, but both parties are waging war against Romans, and we sin against our country whether we conquer or are conquered. For the victor’s gain is our country’s loss.

Believe me when I insist that I can die more honourably than I can reign. For I do not see how my victory can be of so great advantage to the Romans as my offering up my life to secure peace and concord, and to prevent Italy from beholding such a day again.

So he spake, and after resisting firmly those who tried to oppose and dissuade him, he ordered his friends to depart, as well as the men of senatorial rank who were present; to those who were absent he sent the same command, and wrote to the cities urging them to escort the travellers on their way with honour and in safety.

Then he sent for his nephew Cocceius, who was still a youth, and bade him be of good cheer and not fear Vitellius, whose mother and wife and children he had kept safe and cared for as though they were his own. He had desired, he said, to make him his son, but had put off the adoption, in order that the youth might share his power after he had prevailed, and not perish with him after he had failed. And now, my boy, he said, this is my last charge to thee; do not altogether forget, and do not too well remember, that thou hadst a Caesar for an uncle.

This done, after a little he heard tumult and shouting at his door. For as the men of senatorial rank were departing, the soldiers threatened to kill them if they did not remain, instead of forsaking their emperor. Once more, then, he went forth, since he feared for the men’s safety. He was no longer gentle and suppliant, however, but stern of countenance, and looking angrily round upon the most turbulent of the soldiers, he made them go away submissively and in fear.