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      <p>The Annals By Tacitus



BOOK I

A.D. 14, 15 

Rome at the beginning was ruled by kings. Freedom and the consulship
were established by Lucius Brutus. Dictatorships were held for a temporary
crisis. The power of the decemvirs did not last beyond two years,
nor was the consular jurisdiction of the military tribunes of long
duration. The despotisms of Cinna and Sulla were brief; the rule of
Pompeius and of Crassus soon yielded before Caesar; the arms of Lepidus
and Antonius before Augustus; who, when the world was wearied by civil
strife, subjected it to empire under the title of &quot;Prince.&quot; But the
successes and reverses of the old Roman people have been recorded
by famous historians; and fine intellects were not wanting to describe
the times of Augustus, till growing sycophancy scared them away. The
histories of Tiberius, Caius, Claudius, and Nero, while they were
in power, were falsified through terror, and after their death were
written under the irritation of a recent hatred. Hence my purpose
is to relate a few facts about Augustus- more particularly his last
acts, then the reign of Tiberius, and all which follows, without either
bitterness or partiality, from any motives to which I am far removed.

When after the destruction of Brutus and Cassius there was no longer
any army of the Commonwealth, when Pompeius was crushed in Sicily,
and when, with Lepidus pushed aside and Antonius slain, even the Julian
faction had only Caesar left to lead it, then, dropping the title
of triumvir, and giving out that he was a Consul, and was satisfied
with a tribune&apos;s authority for the protection of the people, Augustus
won over the soldiers with gifts, the populace with cheap corn, and
all men with the sweets of repose, and so grew greater by degrees,
while he concentrated in himself the functions of the Senate, the
magistrates, and the laws. He was wholly unopposed, for the boldest
spirits had fallen in battle, or in the proscription, while the remaining
nobles, the readier they were to be slaves, were raised the higher
by wealth and promotion, so that, aggrandised by revolution, they
preferred the safety of the present to the dangerous past. Nor did
the provinces dislike that condition of affairs, for they distrusted
the government of the Senate and the people, because of the rivalries
between the leading men and the rapacity of the officials, while the
protection of the laws was unavailing, as they were continually deranged
by violence, intrigue, and finally by corruption. 

Augustus meanwhile, as supports to his despotism, raised to the pontificate
and curule aedileship Claudius Marcellus, his sister&apos;s son, while
a mere stripling, and Marcus Agrippa, of humble birth, a good soldier,
and one who had shared his victory, to two consecutive consulships,
and as Marcellus soon afterwards died, he also accepted him as his
son-in-law. Tiberius Nero and Claudius Drusus, his stepsons, he honoured
with imperial tides, although his own family was as yet undiminished.
For he had admitted the children of Agrippa, Caius and Lucius, into
the house of the Caesars; and before they had yet laid aside the dress
of boyhood he had most fervently desired, with an outward show of
reluctance, that they should be entitled &quot;princes of the youth,&quot; and
be consuls-elect. When Agrippa died, and Lucius Caesar as he was on
his way to our armies in Spain, and Caius while returning from Armenia,
still suffering from a wound, were prematurely cut off by destiny,
or by their step-mother Livia&apos;s treachery, Drusus too having long
been dead, Nero remained alone of the stepsons, and in him everything
tended to centre. He was adopted as a son, as a colleague in empire
and a partner in the tribunitian power, and paraded through all the
armies, no longer through his mother&apos;s secret intrigues, but at her
open suggestion. For she had gained such a hold on the aged Augustus
that he drove out as an exile into the island of Planasia, his only
grandson, Agrippa Postumus, who, though devoid of worthy qualities,
and having only the brute courage of physical strength, had not been
convicted of any gross offence. And yet Augustus had appointed Germanicus,
Drusus&apos;s offspring, to the command of eight legions on the Rhine,
and required Tiberius to adopt him, although Tiberius had a son, now
a young man, in his house; but he did it that he might have several
safeguards to rest on. He had no war at the time on his hands except
against the Germans, which was rather to wipe out the disgrace of
the loss of Quintilius Varus and his army than out of an ambition
to extend the empire, or for any adequate recompense. At home all
was tranquil, and there were magistrates with the same titles; there
was a younger generation, sprung up since the victory of Actium, and
even many of the older men had been born during the civil wars. How
few were left who had seen the republic! 

Thus the State had been revolutionised, and there was not a vestige
left of the old sound morality. Stript of equality, all looked up
to the commands of a sovereign without the least apprehension for
the present, while Augustus in the vigour of life, could maintain
his own position, that of his house, and the general tranquillity.
When in advanced old age, he was worn out by a sickly frame, and the
end was near and new prospects opened, a few spoke in vain of the
blessings of freedom, but most people dreaded and some longed for
war. The popular gossip of the large majority fastened itself variously
on their future masters. &quot;Agrippa was savage, and had been exasperated
by insult, and neither from age nor experience in affairs was equal
to so great a burden. Tiberius Nero was of mature years, and had established
his fame in war, but he had the old arrogance inbred in the Claudian
family, and many symptoms of a cruel temper, though they were repressed,
now and then broke out. He had also from earliest infancy been reared
in an imperial house; consulships and triumphs had been heaped on
him in his younger days; even in the years which, on the pretext of
seclusion he spent in exile at Rhodes, he had had no thoughts but
of wrath, hypocrisy, and secret sensuality. There was his mother too
with a woman caprice. They must, it seemed, be subject to a female
and to two striplings besides, who for a while would burden, and some
day rend asunder the State.&quot; 

While these and like topics were discussed, the infirmities of Augustus
increased, and some suspected guilt on his wife&apos;s part. For a rumour
had gone abroad that a few months before he had sailed to Planasia
on a visit to Agrippa, with the knowledge of some chosen friends,
and with one companion, Fabius Maximus; that many tears were shed
on both sides, with expressions of affection, and that thus there
was a hope of the young man being restored to the home of his grandfather.
This, it was said, Maximus had divulged to his wife Marcia, she again
to Livia. All was known to Caesar, and when Maximus soon afterwards
died, by a death some thought to be self-inflicted, there were heard
at his funeral wailings from Marcia, in which she reproached herself
for having been the cause of her husband&apos;s destruction. Whatever the
fact was, Tiberius as he was just entering Illyria was summoned home
by an urgent letter from his mother, and it has not been thoroughly
ascertained whether at the city of Nola he found Augustus still breathing
or quite lifeless. For Livia had surrounded the house and its approaches
with a strict watch, and favourable bulletins were published from
time to time, till, provision having been made for the demands of
the crisis, one and the same report told men that Augustus was dead
and that Tiberius Nero was master of the State. 

The first crime of the new reign was the murder of Postumus Agrippa.
Though he was surprised and unarmed, a centurion of the firmest resolution
despatched him with difficulty. Tiberius gave no explanation of the
matter to the Senate; he pretended that there were directions from
his father ordering the tribune in charge of the prisoner not to delay
the slaughter of Agrippa, whenever he should himself have breathed
his last. Beyond a doubt, Augustus had often complained of the young
man&apos;s character, and had thus succeeded in obtaining the sanction
of a decree of the Senate for his banishment. But he never was hard-hearted
enough to destroy any of his kinsfolk, nor was it credible that death
was to be the sentence of the grandson in order that the stepson might
feel secure. It was more probable that Tiberius and Livia, the one
from fear, the other from a stepmother&apos;s enmity, hurried on the destruction
of a youth whom they suspected and hated. When the centurion reported,
according to military custom, that he had executed the command, Tiberius
replied that he had not given the command, and that the act must be
justified to the Senate. 

As soon as Sallustius Crispus who shared the secret (he had, in fact,
sent the written order to the tribune) knew this, fearing that the
charge would be shifted on himself, and that his peril would be the
same whether he uttered fiction or truth, he advised Livia not to
divulge the secrets of her house or the counsels of friends, or any
services performed by the soldiers, nor to let Tiberius weaken the
strength of imperial power by referring everything to the Senate,
for &quot;the condition,&quot; he said, &quot;of holding empire is that an account
cannot be balanced unless it be rendered to one person.&quot;

Meanwhile at Rome people plunged into slavery- consuls, senators,
knights. The higher a man&apos;s rank, the more eager his hypocrisy, and
his looks the more carefully studied, so as neither to betray joy
at the decease of one emperor nor sorrow at the rise of another, while
he mingled delight and lamentations with his flattery. Sextus Pompeius
and Sextus Apuleius, the consuls, were the first to swear allegiance
to Tiberius Caesar, and in their presence the oath was taken by Seius
Strabo and Caius Turranius, respectively the commander of the praetorian
cohorts and the superintendent of the corn supplies. Then the Senate,
the soldiers and the people did the same. For Tiberius would inaugurate
everything with the consuls, as though the ancient constitution remained,
and he hesitated about being emperor. Even the proclamation by which
he summoned the senators to their chamber, he issued merely with the
title of Tribune, which he had received under Augustus. The wording
of the proclamation was brief, and in a very modest tone. &quot;He would,&quot;
it said, &quot;provide for the honours due to his father, and not leave
the lifeless body, and this was the only public duty he now claimed.&quot;

As soon, however, as Augustus was dead, he had given the watchword
to the praetorian cohorts, as commander-in-chief. He had the guard
under arms, with all the other adjuncts of a court; soldiers attended
him to the forum; soldiers went with him to the Senate House. He sent
letters to the different armies, as though supreme power was now his,
and showed hesitation only when he spoke in the Senate. His chief
motive was fear that Germanicus, who had at his disposal so many legions,
such vast auxiliary forces of the allies, and such wonderful popularity,
might prefer the possession to the expectation of empire. He looked
also at public opinion, wishing to have the credit of having been
called and elected by the State rather than of having crept into power
through the intrigues of a wife and a dotard&apos;s adoption. It was subsequently
understood that he assumed a wavering attitude, to test likewise the
temper of the nobles. For he would twist a word or a look into a crime
and treasure it up in his memory. 

On the first day of the Senate he allowed nothing to be discussed
but the funeral of Augustus, whose will, which was brought in by the
Vestal Virgins, named as his heirs Tiberius and Livia. The latter
was to be admitted into the Julian family with the name of Augusta;
next in expectation were the grand and great-grandchildren. In the
third place, he had named the chief men of the State, most of whom
he hated, simply out of ostentation and to win credit with posterity.
His legacies were not beyond the scale of a private citizen, except
a bequest of forty-three million five hundred thousand sesterces &quot;to
the people and populace of Rome,&quot; of one thousand to every praetorian
soldier, and of three hundred to every man in the legionary cohorts
composed of Roman citizens. 

Next followed a deliberation about funeral honours. Of these the most
imposing were thought fitting. The procession was to be conducted
through &quot;the gate of triumph,&quot; on the motion of Gallus Asinius; the
titles of the laws passed, the names of the nations conquered by Augustus
were to be borne in front, on that of Lucius Arruntius. Messala Valerius
further proposed that the oath of allegiance to Tiberius should be
yearly renewed, and when Tiberius asked him whether it was at his
bidding that he had brought forward this motion, he replied that he
had proposed it spontaneously, and that in whatever concerned the
State he would use only his own discretion, even at the risk of offending.
This was the only style of adulation which yet remained. The Senators
unanimously exclaimed that the body ought to be borne on their shoulders
to the funeral pile. The emperor left the point to them with disdainful
moderation, he then admonished the people by a proclamation not to
indulge in that tumultuous enthusiasm which had distracted the funeral
of the Divine Julius, or express a wish that Augustus should be burnt
in the Forum instead of in his appointed resting-place in the Campus
Martius. 

On the day of the funeral soldiers stood round as a guard, amid much
ridicule from those who had either themselves witnessed or who had
heard from their parents of the famous day when slavery was still
something fresh, and freedom had been resought in vain, when the slaying
of Caesar, the Dictator, seemed to some the vilest, to others, the
most glorious of deeds. &quot;Now,&quot; they said, &quot;an aged sovereign, whose
power had lasted long, who had provided his heirs with abundant means
to coerce the State, requires forsooth the defence of soldiers that
his burial may be undisturbed.&quot; 

Then followed much talk about Augustus himself, and many expressed
an idle wonder that the same day marked the beginning of his assumption
of empire and the close of his life, and, again, that he had ended
his days at Nola in the same house and room as his father Octavius.
People extolled too the number of his consulships, in which he had
equalled Valerius Corvus and Caius Marius combined, the continuance
for thirty-seven years of the tribunitian power, the title of Imperator
twenty-one times earned, and his other honours which had either frequently
repeated or were wholly new. Sensible men, however, spoke variously
of his life with praise and censure. Some said &quot;that dutiful feeling
towards a father, and the necessities of the State in which laws had
then no place, drove him into civil war, which can neither be planned
nor conducted on any right principles. He had often yielded to Antonius,
while he was taking vengeance on his father&apos;s murderers, often also
to Lepidus. When the latter sank into feeble dotage and the former
had been ruined by his profligacy, the only remedy for his distracted
country was the rule of a single man. Yet the State had been organized
under the name neither of a kingdom nor a dictatorship, but under
that of a prince. The ocean and remote rivers were the boundaries
of the empire; the legions, provinces, fleets, all things were linked
together; there was law for the citizens; there was respect shown
to the allies. The capital had been embellished on a grand scale;
only in a few instances had he resorted to force, simply to secure
general tranquillity.&quot; 

It was said, on the other hand, &quot;that filial duty and State necessity
were merely assumed as a mask. It was really from a lust of sovereignty
that he had excited the veterans by bribery, had, when a young man
and a subject, raised an army, tampered with the Consul&apos;s legions,
and feigned an attachment to the faction of Pompeius. Then, when by
a decree of the Senate he had usurped the high functions and authority
of Praetor when Hirtius and Pansa were slain- whether they were destroyed
by the enemy, or Pansa by poison infused into a wound, Hirtius by
his own soldiers and Caesar&apos;s treacherous machinations- he at once
possessed himself of both their armies, wrested the consulate from
a reluctant Senate, and turned against the State the arms with which
he had been intrusted against Antonius. Citizens were proscribed,
lands divided, without so much as the approval of those who executed
these deeds. Even granting that the deaths of Cassius and of the Bruti
were sacrifices to a hereditary enmity (though duty requires us to
waive private feuds for the sake of the public welfare), still Pompeius
had been deluded by the phantom of peace, and Lepidus by the mask
of friendship. Subsequently, Antonius had been lured on by the treaties
of Tarentum and Brundisium, and by his marriage with the sister, and
paid by his death the penalty of a treacherous alliance. No doubt,
there was peace after all this, but it was a peace stained with blood;
there were the disasters of Lollius and Varus, the murders at Rome
of the Varros, Egnatii, and Juli.&quot; 

The domestic life too of Augustus was not spared. &quot;Nero&apos;s wife had
been taken from him, and there had been the farce of consulting the
pontiffs, whether, with a child conceived and not yet born, she could
properly marry. There were the excesses of Quintus Tedius and Vedius
Pollio; last of all, there was Livia, terrible to the State as a mother,
terrible to the house of the Caesars as a stepmother. No honour was
left for the gods, when Augustus chose to be himself worshipped with
temples and statues, like those of the deities, and with flamens and
priests. He had not even adopted Tiberius as his successor out of
affection or any regard to the State, but, having thoroughly seen
his arrogant and savage temper, he had sought glory for himself by
a contrast of extreme wickedness.&quot; For, in fact, Augustus, a few years
before, when he was a second time asking from the Senate the tribunitian
power for Tiberius, though his speech was complimentary, had thrown
out certain hints as to his manners, style, and habits of life, which
he meant as reproaches, while he seemed to excuse. However, when his
obsequies had been duly performed, a temple with a religious ritual
was decreed him. 

After this all prayers were addressed to Tiberius. He, on his part,
urged various considerations, the greatness of the empire, his distrust
of himself. &quot;Only,&quot; he said, &quot;the intellect of the Divine Augustus
was equal to such a burden. Called as he had been by him to share
his anxieties, he had learnt by experience how exposed to fortune&apos;s
caprices was the task of universal rule. Consequently, in a state
which had the support of so many great men, they should not put everything
on one man, as many, by uniting their efforts would more easily discharge
public functions.&quot; There was more grand sentiment than good faith
in such words. Tiberius&apos;s language even in matters which he did not
care to conceal, either from nature or habit, was always hesitating
and obscure, and now that he was struggling to hide his feelings completely,
it was all the more involved in uncertainty and doubt. The Senators,
however, whose only fear was lest they might seem to understand him,
burst into complaints, tears, and prayers. They raised their hands
to the gods, to the statue of Augustus, and to the knees of Tiberius,
when he ordered a document to be produced and read. This contained
a description of the resources of the State, of the number of citizens
and allies under arms, of the fleets, subject kingdoms, provinces,
taxes, direct and indirect, necessary expenses and customary bounties.
All these details Augustus had written with his own hand, and had
added a counsel, that the empire should be confined to its present
limits, either from fear or out of jealousy. 

Meantime, while the Senate stooped to the most abject supplication,
Tiberius happened to say that although he was not equal to the whole
burden of the State, yet he would undertake the charge of whatever
part of it might be intrusted to him. Thereupon Asinius Gallus said,
&quot;I ask you, Caesar, what part of the State you wish to have intrusted
to you?&quot; Confounded by the sudden inquiry he was silent for a few
moments; then, recovering his presence of mind, he replied that it
would by no means become his modesty to choose or to avoid in a case
where he would prefer to be wholly excused. Then Gallus again, who
had inferred anger from his looks, said that the question had not
been asked with the intention of dividing what could not be separated,
but to convince him by his own admission that the body of the State
was one, and must be directed by a single mind. He further spoke in
praise of Augustus, and reminded Tiberius himself of his victories,
and of his admirable deeds for many years as a civilian. Still, he
did not thereby soften the emperor&apos;s resentment, for he had long been
detested from an impression that, as he had married Vipsania, daughter
of Marcus Agrippa, who had once been the wife of Tiberius, he aspired
to be more than a citizen, and kept up the arrogant tone of his father,
Asinius Pollio. 

Next, Lucius Arruntius, who differed but little from the speech of
Gallus, gave like offence, though Tiberius had no old grudge against
him, but simply mistrusted him, because he was rich and daring, had
brilliant accomplishments, and corresponding popularity. For Augustus,
when in his last conversations he was discussing who would refuse
the highest place, though sufficiently capable, who would aspire to
it without being equal to it, and who would unite both the ability
and ambition, had described Marcus Lepidus as able but contemptuously
indifferent, Gallus Asinius as ambitious and incapable, Lucius Arruntius
as not unworthy of it, and, should the chance be given him, sure to
make the venture. About the two first there is a general agreement,
but instead of Arruntius some have mentioned Cneius Piso, and all
these men, except Lepidus, were soon afterwards destroyed by various
charges through the contrivance of Tiberius. Quintus Haterius too
and Mamercus Scaurus ruffled his suspicious temper, Haterius by having
said- &quot;How long, Caesar, will you suffer the State to be without a
head?&quot; Scaurus by the remark that there was a hope that the Senate&apos;s
prayers would not be fruitless, seeing that he had not used his right
as Tribune to negative the motion of the Consuls. Tiberius instantly
broke out into invective against Haterius; Scaurus, with whom he was
far more deeply displeased, he passed over in silence. Wearied at
last by the assembly&apos;s clamorous importunity and the urgent demands
of individual Senators, he gave way by degrees, not admitting that
he undertook empire, but yet ceasing to refuse it and to be entreated.
It is known that Haterius having entered the palace to ask pardon,
and thrown himself at the knees of Tiberius as he was walking, was
almost killed by the soldiers, because Tiberius fell forward, accidentally
or from being entangled by the suppliant&apos;s hands. Yet the peril of
so great a man did not make him relent, till Haterius went with entreaties
to Augusta, and was saved by her very earnest intercessions.

Great too was the Senate&apos;s sycophancy to Augusta. Some would have
her styled &quot;parent&quot;; others &quot;mother of the country,&quot; and a majority
proposed that to the name of Caesar should be added &quot;son of Julia.&quot;
The emperor repeatedly asserted that there must be a limit to the
honours paid to women, and that he would observe similar moderation
in those bestowed on himself, but annoyed at the invidious proposal,
and indeed regarding a woman&apos;s elevation as a slight to himself, he
would not allow so much as a lictor to be assigned her, and forbade
the erection of an altar in memory of her adoption, and any like distinction.
But for Germanicus Caesar he asked pro-consular powers, and envoys
were despatched to confer them on him, and also to express sympathy
with his grief at the death of Augustus. The same request was not
made for Drusus, because he was consul elect and present at Rome.
Twelve candidates were named for the praetorship, the number which
Augustus had handed down, and when the Senate urged Tiberius to increase
it, he bound himself by an oath not to exceed it. 

It was then for the first time that the elections were transferred
from the Campus Martius to the Senate. For up to that day, though
the most important rested with the emperor&apos;s choice, some were settled
by the partialities of the tribes. Nor did the people complain of
having the right taken from them, except in mere idle talk, and the
Senate, being now released from the necessity of bribery and of degrading
solicitations, gladly upheld the change, Tiberius confining himself
to the recommendation of only four candidates who were to be nominated
without rejection or canvass. Meanwhile the tribunes of the people
asked leave to exhibit at their own expense games to be named after
Augustus and added to the Calendar as the Augustales. Money was, however,
voted from the exchequer, and though the use of the triumphal robe
in the circus was prescribed, it was not allowed them to ride in a
chariot. Soon the annual celebration was transferred to the praetor,
to whose lot fell the administration of justice between citizens and
foreigners. 

This was the state of affairs at Rome when a mutiny broke out in the
legions of Pannonia, which could be traced to no fresh cause except
the change of emperors and the prospect it held out of license in
tumult and of profit from a civil war. In the summer camp three legions
were quartered, under the command of Junius Blaesus, who on hearing
of the death of Augustus and the accession of Tiberius, had allowed
his men a rest from military duties, either for mourning or rejoicing.
This was the beginning of demoralization among the troops, of quarreling,
of listening to the talk of every pestilent fellow, in short, of craving
for luxury and idleness and loathing discipline and toil. In the camp
was one Percennius, who had once been a leader of one of the theatrical
factions, then became a common soldier, had a saucy tongue, and had
learnt from his applause of actors how to stir up a crowd. By working
on ignorant minds, which doubted as to what would be the terms of
military service after Augustus, this man gradually influenced them
in conversations at night or at nightfall, and when the better men
had dispersed, he gathered round him all the worst spirits.

At last, when there were others ready to be abettors of a mutiny,
he asked, in the tone of a demagogue, why, like slaves, they submitted
to a few centurions and still fewer tribunes. &quot;When,&quot; he said, &quot;will
you dare to demand relief, if you do not go with your prayers or arms
to a new and yet tottering throne? We have blundered enough by our
tameness for so many years, in having to endure thirty or forty campaigns
till we grow old, most of us with bodies maimed by wounds. Even dismissal
is not the end of our service, but, quartered under a legion&apos;s standard
we toil through the same hardships under another title. If a soldier
survives so many risks, he is still dragged into remote regions where,
under the name of lands, he receives soaking swamps or mountainous
wastes. Assuredly, military service itself is burdensome and unprofitable;
ten as a day is the value set on life and limb; out of this, clothing,
arms, tents, as well as the mercy of centurions and exemptions from
duty have to be purchased. But indeed of floggings and wounds, of
hard winters, wearisome summers, of terrible war, or barren peace,
there is no end. Our only relief can come from military life being
entered on under fixed conditions, from receiving each the pay of
a denarius, and from the sixteenth year terminating our service. We
must be retained no longer under a standard, but in the same camp
a compensation in money must be paid us. Do the praetorian cohorts,
which have just got their two denarii per man, and which after sixteen
years are restored to their homes, encounter more perils? We do not
disparage the guards of the capital; still, here amid barbarous tribes
we have to face the enemy from our tents.&quot; 

The throng applauded from various motives, some pointing with indignation
to the marks of the lash, others to their grey locks, and most of
them to their threadbare garments and naked limbs. At, last, in their
fury they went so far as to propose to combine the three legions into
one. Driven from their purpose by the jealousy with which every one
sought the chief honour for his own legion, they turned to other thoughts,
and set up in one spot the three eagles, with the ensigns of the cohorts.
At the same time they piled up turf and raised a mound, that they
might have a more conspicuous meeting-place. Amid the bustle Blaesus
came up. He upbraided them and held back man after man with the exclamation,
&quot;Better imbrue your hands in my blood: it will be less guilt to slay
your commander than it is to be in revolt from the emperor. Either
living I will uphold the loyalty of the legions, or Pierced to the
heart I will hasten on your repentance.&quot; 

None the less however was the mound piled up, and it was quite breast
high when, at last overcome by his persistency, they gave up their
purpose. Blaesus, with the consummate tact of an orator, said, &quot;It
is not through mutiny and tumult that the desires of the army ought
to be communicated to Caesar, nor did our soldiers of old ever ask
so novel a boon of ancient commanders, nor have you yourselves asked
it of the Divine Augustus. It is far from opportune that the emperor&apos;s
cares, now in their first beginning, should be aggravated. If, however,
you are bent upon attempting in peace what even after your victory
in the civil wars you did not demand, why, contrary to the habit of
obedience, contrary to the law of discipline, do you meditate violence?
Decide on sending envoys, and give them instructions in your presence.&quot;

It was carried by acclamation that the son of Blaesus, one of the
tribunes, should undertake the mission, and demand for the soldiers
release from service after sixteen years. He was to have the rest
of their message when the first part had been successful. After the
young man departure there was comparative quiet, but there was an
arrogant tone among the soldiers, to whom the fact that their commander&apos;s
son was pleading their common cause clearly showed that they had wrested
by compulsion what they had failed to obtain by good behaviour.

Meanwhile the companies which previous to the mutiny had been sent
to Nauportus to make roads and bridges and for other purposes, when
they heard of the tumult in the camp, tore up the standards, and having
plundered the neighbouring villages and Nauportus itself, which was
like a town, assailed the centurions who restrained them with jeers
and insults, last of all, with blows. Their chief rage was against
Aufidienus Rufus, the camp-prefect, whom they dragged from a waggon,
loaded with baggage, and drove on at the head of the column, asking
him in ridicule whether he liked to bear such huge burdens and such
long marches. Rufus, who had long been a common soldier, then a centurion,
and subsequently camp-prefect, tried to revive the old severe discipline,
inured as he was to work and toil, and all the sterner because he
had endured. 

On the arrival of these troops the mutiny broke out afresh, and straggling
from the camp they plundered the neighbourhood. Blaesus ordered a
few who had conspicuously loaded themselves with spoil to be scourged
and imprisoned as a terror to the rest; for, even as it then was,
the commander was still obeyed by the centurions and by all the best
men among the soldiers. As the men were dragged off, they struggled
violently, clasped the knees of the bystanders, called to their comrades
by name, or to the company, cohort, or legion to which they respectively
belonged, exclaiming that all were threatened with the same fate.
At the same time they heaped abuse on the commander; they appealed
to heaven and to the gods, and left nothing undone by which they might
excite resentment and pity, alarm and rage. They all rushed to the
spot, broke open the guardhouse, unbound the prisoners, and were in
a moment fraternising with deserters and men convicted on capital
charges. 

Thence arose a more furious outbreak, with more leaders of the mutiny.
Vibulenus, a common soldier, was hoisted in front of the general&apos;s
tribunal on the shoulders of the bystanders and addressed the excited
throng, who eagerly awaited his intentions. &quot;You have indeed,&quot; he
said, &quot;restored light and air to these innocent and most unhappy men,
but who restores to my brother his life, or my brother to myself?
Sent to you by the German army in our common cause, he was last night
butchered by the gladiators whom the general keeps and arms for the
destruction of his soldiers. Answer, Blaesus, where you have flung
aside the corpse? Even an enemy grudges not burial. When, with embraces
and tears, I have sated my grief, order me also to be slain, provided
only that when we have been destroyed for no crime, but only because
we consulted the good of the legions, we may be buried by these men
around me.&quot; 

He inflamed their excitement by weeping and smiting his breast and
face with his hands. Then, hurling aside those who bore him on their
shoulders, and impetuously flinging himself at the feet of one man
after another, he roused such dismay and indignation that some of
the soldiers put fetters on the gladiators who were among the number
of Blaesus&apos;s slaves, others did the like to the rest of his household,
while a third party hurried out to look for the corpse. And had it
not quickly been known that no corpse was found, that the slaves,
when tortures were applied, denied the murder, and that the man never
had a brother, they would have been on the point of destroying the
general. As it was, they thrust out the tribunes and the camp-prefect;
they plundered the baggage of the fugitives, and they killed a centurion,
Lucilius, to whom, with soldiers&apos; humour, they had given the name
&quot;Bring another,&quot; because when he had broken one vine-stick on a man&apos;s
back, he would call in a loud voice for another and another. The rest
sheltered themselves in concealment, and one only was detained, Clemens
Julius, whom the soldiers considered a fit person to carry messages,
from his ready wit. Two legions, the eighth and the fifteenth, were
actually drawing swords against each other, the former demanding the
death of a centurion, whom they nicknamed Sirpicus, while the men
of the fifteenth defended him, but the soldiers of the ninth interposed
their entreaties, and when these were disregarded, their menaces.

This intelligence had such an effect on Tiberius, close as he was,
and most careful to hush up every very serious disaster, that he despatched
his son Drusus with the leading men of the State and with two praetorian
cohorts, without any definite instructions, to take suitable measures.
The cohorts were strengthened beyond their usual force with some picked
troops. There was in addition a considerable part of the Praetorian
cavalry, and the flower of the German soldiery, which was then the
emperor&apos;s guard. With them too was the commander of the praetorians,
Aelius Sejanus, who had been associated with his own father, Strabo,
had great influence with Tiberius, and was to advise and direct the
young prince, and to hold out punishment or reward to the soldiers.
When Drusus approached, the legions, as a mark of respect, met him,
not as usual, with glad looks or the glitter of military decorations,
but in unsightly squalor, and faces which, though they simulated grief,
rather expressed defiance. 

As soon as he entered the entrenchments, they secured the gates with
sentries, and ordered bodies of armed men to be in readiness at certain
points of the camp. The rest crowded round the general&apos;s tribunal
in a dense mass. Drusus stood there, and with a gesture of his hand
demanded silence. As often as they turned their eyes back on the throng,
they broke into savage exclamations, then looking up to Drusus they
trembled. There was a confused hum, a fierce shouting, and a sudden
lull. Urged by conflicting emotions, they felt panic and they caused
the like. At last, in an interval of the uproar, Drusus read his father&apos;s
letter, in which it was fully stated that he had a special care for
the brave legions with which he had endured a number of campaigns;
that, as soon as his mind had recovered from its grief, he would lay
their demands before the Senators; that meanwhile he had sent his
son to concede unhesitatingly what could be immediately granted, and
that the rest must be reserved for the Senate, which ought to have
a voice in showing either favour or severity. 

The crowd replied that they had delivered their instructions to Clemens,
one of the centurions, which he was to convey to Rome. He began to
speak of the soldiers&apos; discharge after sixteen years, of the rewards
of completed service, of the daily pay being a denarius, and of the
veterans not being detained under a standard. When Drusus pleaded
in answer reference to the Senate and to his father, he was interrupted
by a tumultuous shout. &quot;Why had he come, neither to increase the soldiers&apos;
pay, nor to alleviate their hardships, in a word, with no power to
better their lot? Yet heaven knew that all were allowed to scourge
and to execute. Tiberius used formerly in the name of Augustus to
frustrate the wishes of the legions, and the same tricks were now
revived by Drusus. Was it only sons who were to visit them? Certainly,
it was a new thing for the emperor to refer to the Senate merely what
concerned the soldier&apos;s interests. Was then the same Senate to be
consulted whenever notice was given of an execution or of a battle?
Were their rewards to be at the discretion of absolute rulers, their
punishments to be without appeal?&quot; 

At last they deserted the general&apos;s tribunal, and to any praetorian
soldier or friend of Caesar&apos;s who met them, they used those threatening
gestures which are the cause of strife and the beginning of a conflict,
with special rage against Cneius Lentulus, because they thought that
he above all others, by his age and warlike renown, encouraged Drusus,
and was the first to scorn such blots on military discipline. Soon
after, as he was leaving with Drusus to betake himself in foresight
of his danger to the winter can they surrounded him, and asked him
again and again whither he was going; was it to the emperor or to
the Senate, there also to oppose the interests of the legions. At
the same moment they menaced him savagely and flung stones. And now,
bleeding from a blow, and feeling destruction certain, he was rescued
by the hurried arrival of the throng which had accompanied Drusus.

That terrible night which threatened an explosion of crime was tranquillised
by a mere accident. Suddenly in a clear sky the moon&apos;s radiance seemed
to die away. This the soldiers in their ignorance of the cause regarded
as an omen of their condition, comparing the failure of her light
to their own efforts, and imagining that their attempts would end
prosperously should her brightness and splendour be restored to the
goddess. And so they raised a din with brazen instruments and the
combined notes of trumpets and horns, with joy or sorrow, as she brightened
or grew dark. When clouds arose and obstructed their sight, and it
was thought she was buried in the gloom, with that proneness to superstition
which steals over minds once thoroughly cowed, they lamented that
this was a portent of never-ending hardship, and that heaven frowned
on their deeds. 

Drusus, thinking that he ought to avail himself of this change in
their temper and turn what chance had offered to a wise account, ordered
the tents to be visited. Clemens, the centurion was summoned with
all others who for their good qualities were liked by the common soldiers.
These men made their way among the patrols, sentries and guards of
the camp-gates, suggesting hope or holding out threats. &quot;How long
will you besiege the emperor&apos;s son? What is to be the end of our strifes?
Will Percennius and Vibulenus give pay to the soldiers and land to
those who have earned their discharge? In a word, are they, instead
of the Neros and the Drusi, to control the empire of the Roman people?
Why are we not rather first in our repentance as we were last in the
offence? Demands made in common are granted slowly; a separate favour
you may deserve and receive at the same moment.&quot; 

With minds affected by these words and growing mutually suspicious,
they divided off the new troops from the old, and one legion from
another. Then by degrees the instinct of obedience returned. They
quitted the gates and restored to their places the standards which
at the beginning of the mutiny they had grouped into one spot.

At daybreak Drusus called them to an assembly, and, though not a practised
speaker, yet with natural dignity upbraided them for their past and
commended their present behaviour. He was not, he said, to be conquered
by terror or by threats. Were he to see them inclining to submission
and hear the language of entreaty, he would write to his father, that
he might be merciful and receive the legions&apos; petition. At their prayer,
Blaesus and Lucius Apronius, a Roman knight on Drusus&apos;s staff, with
Justus Catonius, a first-rank centurion, were again sent to Tiberius.
Then ensued a conflict of opinion among them, some maintaining that
it was best to wait the envoys&apos; return and meanwhile humour the soldiers,
others, that stronger measures ought to be used, inasmuch as the rabble
knows no mean, and inspires fear, unless they are afraid, though when
they have once been overawed, they can be safely despised. &quot;While
superstition still swayed them, the general should apply terror by
removing the leaders of the mutiny.&quot; 

Drusus&apos;s temper was inclined to harsh measures. He summoned Vibulenus
and Percennius and ordered them to be put to death. The common account
is that they were buried in the general&apos;s tent, though according to
some their bodies were flung outside the entrenchments for all to
see. 

Search was then made for all the chief mutineers. Some as they roamed
outside the camp were cut down by the centurions or by soldiers of
the praetorian cohorts. Some even the companies gave up in proof of
their loyalty. The men&apos;s troubles were increased by an early winter
with continuous storms so violent that they could not go beyond their
tents or meet together or keep the standards in their places, from
which they were perpetually tom by hurricane and rain. And there still
lingered the dread of the divine wrath; nor was it without meaning,
they thought, that, hostile to an impious host, the stars grew dim
and storms burst over them. Their only relief from misery was to quit
an ill-omened and polluted camp, and, having purged themselves of
their guilt, to betake themselves again every one to his winterquarters.
First the eighth, then the fifteenth legion returned; the ninth cried
again and again that they ought to wait for the letter from Tiberius,
but soon finding themselves isolated by the departure of the rest,
they voluntarily forestalled their inevitable fate. Drusus, without
awaiting the envoys&apos; return, as for the present all was quiet, went
back to Rome. 

About the same time, from the same causes, the legions of Germany
rose in mutiny, with a fury proportioned to their greater numbers,
in the confident hope that Germanicus Caesar would not be able to
endure another&apos;s supremacy and offer himself to the legions, whose
strength would carry everything before it. There were two armies on
the bank of the Rhine; that named the upper army had Caius Silius
for general; the lower was under the charge of Aulus Caecina. The
supreme direction rested with Germanicus, then busily employed in
conducting the assessment of Gaul. The troops under the control of
Silius, with minds yet in suspense, watched the issue of mutiny elsewhere;
but the soldiers of the lower army fell into a frenzy, which had its
beginning in the men of the twenty-first and fifth legions, and into
which the first and twentieth were also drawn. For they were all quartered
in the same summer-camp, in the territory of the Ubii, enjoying ease
or having only light on hearing of the death of Augustus, a rabble
of city slaves, who had been enlisted under a recent levy at Rome,
habituated to laxity and impatient of hardship, filled the ignorant
minds of the other soldiers with notions that the time had come when
the veteran might demand a timely discharge, the young, more liberal
pay, all, an end of their miseries, and vengeance on the cruelty of
centurions. 

It was not one alone who spoke thus, as did Percennius among the legions
of Pannonia, nor was it in the ears of trembling soldiers, who looked
with apprehension to other and mightier armies, but there was sedition
in many a face and voice. &quot;The Roman world,&quot; they said, was in their
hand; their victories aggrandised the State; it was from them that
emperors received their titles.&quot; 

Nor did their commander check them. Indeed, the blind rage of so many
had robbed him of his resolution., In a sudden frenzy they rushed
with drawn swords on the centurions, the immemorial object of the
soldiers&apos; resentment and the first cause of savage fury. They threw
them to the earth and beat them sorely, sixty to one, so as to correspond
with the number of centurions. Then tearing them from the ground,
mangled, and some lifeless, they flung them outside the entrenchments
or into the river Rhine. One Septimius, who fled to the tribunal and
was grovelling at Caecina&apos;s feet, was persistently demanded till he
was given up to destruction. Cassius Chaerea, who won for himself
a memory with posterity by the murder of Caius Caesar, being then
a youth of high spirit, cleared a passage with his sword through the
armed and opposing throng. Neither tribune nor camp-prefect maintained
authority any longer. Patrols, sentries, and whatever else the needs
of the time required, were distributed by the men themselves. To those
who could guess the temper of soldiers with some penetration, the
strongest symptom of a wide-spread and intractable commotion, was
the fact that, instead of being divided or instigated by a few persons,
they were unanimous in their fury and equally unanimous in their composure,
with so uniform a consistency that one would have thought them to
be under command. 

Meantime Germanicus, while, as I have related, he was collecting the
taxes of Gaul, received news of the death of Augustus. He was married
to the granddaughter of Augustus, Agrippina, by whom he had several
children, and though he was himself the son of Drusus, brother of
Tiberius, and grandson of Augusta, he was troubled by the secret hatred
of his uncle and grandmother, the motives for which were the more
venomous because unjust. For the memory of Drusus was held in honour
by the Roman people, and they believed that had he obtained empire,
he would have restored freedom. Hence they regarded Germanicus with
favour and with the same hope. He was indeed a young man of unaspiring
temper, and of wonderful kindliness, contrasting strongly with the
proud and mysterious reserve that marked the conversation and the
features of Tiberius. Then, there were feminine jealousies, Livia
feeling a stepmother&apos;s bitterness towards Agrippina, and Agrippina
herself too being rather excitable, only her purity and love of her
husband gave a right direction to her otherwise imperious disposition.

But the nearer Germanicus was to the highest hope, the more laboriously
did he exert himself for Tiberius, and he made the neighbouring Sequani
and all the Belgic states swear obedience to him. On hearing of the
mutiny in the legions, he instantly went to the spot, and met them
outside the camp, eyes fixed on the ground, and seemingly repentant.
As soon as he entered the entrenchments, confused murmurs became audible.
Some men, seizing his hand under pretence of kissing it, thrust his
fingers into their mouths, that he might touch their toothless gums;
others showed him their limbs bowed with age. He ordered the throng
which stood near him, as it seemed a promiscuous gathering, to separate
itself into its military companies. They replied that they would hear
better as they were. The standards were then to be advanced, so that
thus at least the cohorts might be distinguished. The soldiers obeyed
reluctantly. Then beginning with a reverent mention of Augustus, he
passed on to the victories and triumphs of Tiberius, dwelling with
especial praise on his glorious achievements with those legions in
Germany. Next, he extolled the unity of Italy, the loyalty of Gaul,
the entire absence of turbulence or strife. He was heard in silence
or with but a slight murmur. 

As soon as he touched on the mutiny and asked what had become of soldierly
obedience, of the glory of ancient discipline, whither they had driven
their tribunes and centurions, they all bared their bodies and taunted
him with the scars of their wounds and the marks of the lash. And
then with confused exclamations they spoke bitterly of the prices
of exemptions, of their scanty pay, of the severity of their tasks,
with special mention of the entrenchment, the fosse, the conveyance
of fodder, building-timber, firewood, and whatever else had to be
procured from necessity, or as a check on idleness in the camp. The
fiercest clamour arose from the veteran soldiers, who, as they counted
their thirty campaigns or more, implored him to relieve worn-out men,
and not let them die under the same hardships, but have an end of
such harassing service, and repose without beggary. Some even claimed
the legacy of the Divine Augustus, with words of good omen for Germanicus,
and, should he wish for empire, they showed themselves abundantly
willing. Thereupon, as though he were contracting the pollution of
guilt, he leapt impetuously from the tribunal. The men opposed his
departure with their weapons, threatening him repeatedly if he would
not go back. But Germanicus protesting that he would die rather than
cast off his loyalty, plucked his sword from his side, raised it aloft
and was plunging it into his breast, when those nearest him seized
his hand and held it by force. The remotest and most densely crowded
part of the throng, and, what almost passes belief, some, who came
close up to him, urged him to strike the blow, and a soldier, by name
Calusidius, offered him a drawn sword, saying that it was sharper
than his own. Even in their fury, this seemed to them a savage act
and one of evil precedent, and there was a pause during which Caesar&apos;s
friends hurried him into his tent. 

There they took counsel how to heal matters. For news was also brought
that the soldiers were preparing the despatch of envoys who were to
draw the upper army into their cause; that the capital of the Ubii
was marked out for destruction, and that hands with the stain of plunder
on them would soon be daring enough for the pillage of Gaul. The alarm
was heightened by the knowledge that the enemy was aware of the Roman
mutiny, and would certainly attack if the Rhine bank were undefended.
Yet if the auxiliary troops and allies were to be armed against the
retiring legions, civil war was in fact begun. Severity would be dangerous;
profuse liberality would be scandalous. Whether all or nothing were
conceded to the soldiery, the State was equally in jeopardy.

Accordingly, having weighed their plans one against each other, they
decided that a letter should be written in the prince&apos;s name, to the
effect that full discharge was granted to those who had served in
twenty campaigns; that there was a conditional release for those who
had served sixteen, and that they were to be retained under a standard
with immunity from everything except actually keeping off the enemy;
that the legacies which they had asked, were to be paid and doubled.

The soldiers perceived that all this was invented for the occasion,
and instantly pressed their demands. The discharge from service was
quickly arranged by the tribunes. Payment was put off till they reached
their respective winterquarters. The men of the fifth and twenty-first
legions refused to go till in the summer-camp where they stood the
money was made up out of the purses of Germanicus himself and his
friends, and paid in full. The first and twentieth legions were led
back by their officer Caecina to the canton of the Ubii, marching
in disgrace, since sums of money which had been extorted from the
general were carried among the eagles and standards. Germanicus went
to the Upper Army, and the second, thirteenth, and sixteenth legions,
without any delay, accepted from him the oath of allegiance. The fourteenth
hesitated a little, but their money and the discharge were offered
even without their demanding it. 

Meanwhile there was an outbreak among the Chauci, begun by some veterans
of the mutinous legions on garrison duty. They were quelled for a
time by the instant execution of two soldiers. Such was the order
of Mennius, the camp-prefect, more as a salutary warning than as a
legal act. Then, when the commotion increased, he fled and having
been discovered, as his hiding place was now unsafe, he borrowed a
resource from audacity. &quot;It was not,&quot; he told them, &quot;the camp-prefect,
it was Germanicus, their general, it was Tiberius, their emperor,
whom they were insulting.&quot; At the same moment, overawing all resistance,
he seized the standard, faced round towards the river-bank, and exclaiming
that whoever left the ranks, he would hold as a deserter, he led them
back into their winter-quarters, disaffected indeed, but cowed.

Meanwhile envoys from the Senate had an interview with Germanicus,
who had now returned, at the Altar of the Ubii. Two legions, the first
and twentieth, with veterans discharged and serving under a standard,
were there in winter-quarters. In the bewilderment of terror and conscious
guilt they were penetrated by an apprehension that persons had come
at the Senate&apos;s orders to cancel the concessions they had extorted
by mutiny. And as it is the way with a mob to fix any charge, however
groundless, on some particular person, they reproached Manatius Plancus,
an ex-consul and the chief envoy, with being the author of the Senate&apos;s
decree. At midnight they began to demand the imperial standard kept
in Germanicus&apos;s quarters, and having rushed together to the entrance,
burst the door, dragged Caesar from his bed, and forced him by menaces
of death to give up the standard. Then roaming through the camp-streets,
they met the envoys, who on hearing of the tumult were hastening to
Germanicus. They loaded them with insults, and were on the point of
murdering them, Plancus especially, whose high rank had deterred him
from flight. In his peril he found safety only in the camp of the
first legion. There clasping the standards and the eagle, he sought
to protect himself under their sanctity. And had not the eagle-bearer,
Calpurnius, saved him from the worst violence, the blood of an envoy
of the Roman people, an occurrence rare even among our foes, would
in a Roman camp have stained the altars of the gods. 

At last, with the light of day, when the general and the soldiers
and the whole affair were clearly recognised, Germanicus entered the
camp, ordered Plancus to be conducted to him, and received him on
the tribunal. He then upbraided them with their fatal infatuation,
revived not so much by the anger of the soldiers as by that of heaven,
and explained the reasons of the envoys&apos; arrival. On the rights of
ambassadors, on the dreadful and undeserved peril of Plancus, and
also on the disgrace into which the legion had brought itself, he
dwelt with the eloquence of pity, and while the throng was confounded
rather than appeased, he dismissed the envoys with an escort of auxiliary
cavalry. 

Amid the alarm all condemned Germanicus for not going to the Upper
Army, where he might find obedience and help against the rebels. &quot;Enough
and more than enough blunders,&quot; they said, &quot;had been made by granting
discharges and money, indeed, by conciliatory measures. Even if Germanicus
held his own life cheap, why should he keep a little son and a pregnant
wife among madmen who outraged every human right? Let these, at least,
be restored safely to their grandsire and to the State.&quot;

When his wife spurned the notion, protesting that she was a descendant
of the Divine Augustus and could face peril with no degenerate spirit,
he at last embraced her and the son of their love with many tears,
and after long delay compelled her to depart. Slowly moved along a
pitiable procession of women, a general&apos;s fugitive wife with a little
son in her bosom, her friends&apos; wives weeping round her, as with her
they were dragging themselves from the camp. Not less sorrowful were
those who remained. 

There was no appearance of the triumphant general about Germanicus,
and he seemed to be in a conquered city rather than in his own camp,
while groans and wailings attracted the ears and looks even of the
soldiers. They came out of their tents, asking &quot;what was that mournful
sound? What meant the sad sight? Here were ladies of rank, not a centurion
to escort them, not a soldier, no sign of a prince&apos;s wife, none of
the usual retinue. Could they be going to the Treveri, to be subjects
of the foreigner?&quot; Then they felt shame and pity, and remembered his
father Agrippa, her grandfather Augustus, her father-in-law Drusus,
her own glory as a mother of children, her noble purity. And there
was her little child too, born in the camp, brought up amid the tents
of the legions, whom they used to call in soldiers&apos; fashion, Caligula,
because he often wore the shoe so called, to win the men&apos;s goodwill.
But nothing moved them so much as jealousy towards the Treveri. They
entreated, stopped the way, that Agrippina might return and remain,
some running to meet her, while most of them went back to Germanicus.
He, with a grief and anger that were yet fresh, thus began to address
the throng around him- 

&quot;Neither wife nor son are dearer to me than my father and the State.
But he will surely have the protection of his own majesty, the empire
of Rome that of our other armies. My wife and children whom, were
it a question of your glory, I would willingly expose to destruction,
I now remove to a distance from your fury, so that whatever wickedness
is thereby threatened, may be expiated by my blood only, and that
you may not be made more guilty by the slaughter of a great-grandson
of Augustus, and the murder of a daughter-in-law of Tiberius. For
what have you not dared, what have you not profaned during these days?
What name shall I give to this gathering? Am I to call you soldiers,
you who have beset with entrenchments and arms your general&apos;s son,
or citizens, when you have trampled under foot the authority of the
Senate? Even the rights of public enemies, the sacred character of
the ambassador, and the law of nations have been violated by you.
The Divine Julius once quelled an army&apos;s mutiny with a single word
by calling those who were renouncing their military obedience &apos;citizens.&apos;
The Divine Augustus cowed the legions who had fought at Actium with
one look of his face. Though I am not yet what they were, still, descended
as I am from them, it would be a strange and unworthy thing should
I be spurned by the soldiery of Spain or Syria. First and twentieth
legions, you who received your standards from Tiberius, you, men of
the twentieth who have shared with me so many battles and have been
enriched with so many rewards, is not this a fine gratitude with which
you are repaying your general? Are these the tidings which I shall
have to carry to my father when he hears only joyful intelligence
from our other provinces, that his own recruits, his own veterans
are not satisfied with discharge or pay; that here only centurions
are murdered, tribunes driven away, envoys imprisoned, camps and rivers
stained with blood, while I am myself dragging on a precarious existence
amid those who hate me? 

&quot;Why, on the first day of our meeting, why did you, my friends, wrest
from me, in your blindness, the steel which I was preparing to plunge
into my breast? Better and more loving was the act of the man who
offered me the sword. At any rate I should have perished before I
was as yet conscious of all the disgraces of my army, while you would
have chosen a general who though he might allow my death to pass unpunished
would avenge the death of Varus and his three legions. Never indeed
may heaven suffer the Belgae, though they proffer their aid, to have
the glory and honour of having rescued the name of Rome and quelled
the tribes of Germany. It is thy spirit, Divine Augustus, now received
into heaven, thine image, father Drusus, and the remembrance of thee,
which, with these same soldiers who are now stimulated by shame and
ambition, should wipe out this blot and turn the wrath of civil strife
to the destruction of the foe. You too, in whose faces and in whose
hearts I perceive a change, if only you restore to the Senate their
envoys, to the emperor his due allegiance, to myself my wife and son,
do you stand aloof from pollution and separate the mutinous from among
you. This will be a pledge of your repentance, a guarantee of your
loyalty.&quot; 

Thereupon, as suppliants confessing that his reproaches were true,
they implored him to punish the guilty, pardon those who had erred,
and lead them against the enemy. And he was to recall his wife, to
let the nursling of the legions return and not be handed over as a
hostage to the Gauls. As to Agrippina&apos;s return, he made the excuse
of her approaching confinement and of winter. His son, he said, would
come, and the rest they might settle themselves. Away they hurried
hither and thither, altered men, and dragged the chief mutineers in
chains to Caius Caetronius commander of the first legion, who tried
and punished them one by one in the following fashion. In front of
the throng stood the legions with drawn swords. Each accused man was
on a raised platform and was pointed out by a tribune. If they shouted
out that he was guilty, he was thrown headlong and cut to pieces.
The soldiers gloated over the bloodshed as though it gave them absolution.
Nor did Caesar check them, seeing that without any order from himself
the same men were responsible for all the cruelty and all the odium
of the deed. 

The example was followed by the veterans, who were soon afterwards
sent into Raetia, nominally to defend the province against a threatened
invasion of the Suevi but really that they might tear themselves from
a camp stamped with the horror of a dreadful remedy no less than with
the memory of guilt. Then the general revised the list of centurions.
Each, at his summons, stated his name, his rank, his birthplace, the
number of his campaigns, what brave deeds he had done in battle, his
military rewards, if any. If the tribunes and the legion commended
his energy and good behaviour, he retained his rank; where they unanimously
charged him with rapacity or cruelty, he was dismissed the service.

Quiet being thus restored for the present, a no less formidable difficulty
remained through the turbulence of the fifth and twenty-first legions,
who were in winter quarters sixty miles away at Old Camp, as the place
was called. These, in fact, had been the first to begin the mutiny,
and the most atrocious deeds had been committed by their hands. Unawed
by the punishment of their comrades, and unmoved by their contrition,
they still retained their resentment. Caesar accordingly proposed
to send an armed fleet with some of our allies down the Rhine, resolved
to make war on them should they reject his authority. 

At Rome, meanwhile, when the result of affairs in Illyrium was not
yet known, and men had heard of the commotion among the German legions,
the citizens in alarm reproached Tiberius for the hypocritical irresolution
with which he was befooling the senate and the people, feeble and
disarmed as they were, while the soldiery were all the time in revolt,
and could not be quelled by the yet imperfectly-matured authority
of two striplings. &quot;He ought to have gone himself and confronted with
his imperial majesty those who would have soon yielded, when they
once saw a sovereign of long experience, who was the supreme dispenser
of rigour or of bounty. Could Augustus, with the feebleness of age
on him, so often visit Germany, and is Tiberius, in the vigour of
life, to sit in the Senate and criticise its members&apos; words? He had
taken good care that there should be slavery at Rome; he should now
apply some soothing medicine to the spirit of soldiers, that they
might be willing to endure peace.&quot; 

Notwithstanding these remonstrances, it was the inflexible purpose
of Tiberius not to quit the head-quarters of empire or to imperil
himself and the State. Indeed, many conflicting thoughts troubled
him. The army in Germany was the stronger; that in Pannonia the nearer;
the first was supported by all the strength of Gaul; the latter menaced
Italy. Which was he to prefer, without the fear that those whom he
slighted would be infuriated by the affront? But his sons might alike
visit both, and not compromise the imperial dignity, which inspired
the greatest awe at a distance. There was also an excuse for mere
youths referring some matters to their father, with the possibility
that he could conciliate or crush those who resisted Germanicus or
Drusus. What resource remained, if they despised the emperor? However,
as if on the eve of departure, he selected his attendants, provided
his camp-equipage, and prepared a fleet; then winter and matters of
business were the various pretexts with which he amused, first, sensible
men, then the populace, last, and longest of all, the provinces.

Germanicus meantime, though he had concentrated his army and prepared
vengeance against the mutineers, thought that he ought still to allow
them an interval, in case they might, with the late warning before
them, regard their safety. He sent a despatch to Caecina, which said
that he was on the way with a strong force, and that, unless they
forestalled his arrival by the execution of the guilty, he would resort
to an indiscriminate massacre. Caecina read the letter confidentially
to the eagle and standardbearers, and to all in the camp who were
least tainted by disloyalty, and urged them to save the whole army
from disgrace, and themselves from destruction. &quot;In peace,&quot; he said,
&quot;the merits of a man&apos;s case are carefully weighed; when war bursts
on us, innocent and guilty alike perish.&quot; 

Upon this, they sounded those whom they thought best for their purpose,
and when they saw that a majority of their legions remained loyal,
at the commander&apos;s suggestion they fixed a time for falling with the
sword on all the vilest and foremost of the mutineers. Then, at a
mutually given signal, they rushed into the tents, and butchered the
unsuspecting men, none but those in the secret knowing what was the
beginning or what was to be the end of the slaughter. 

The scene was a contrast to all civil wars which have ever occurred.
It was not in battle, it was not from opposing camps, it was from
those same dwellings where day saw them at their common meals, night
resting from labour, that they divided themselves into two factions,
and showered on each other their missiles. Uproar, wounds, bloodshed,
were everywhere visible; the cause was a mystery. All else was at
the disposal of chance. Even some loyal men were slain, for, on its
being once understood who were the objects of fury, some of the worst
mutineers too had seized on weapons. Neither commander nor tribune
was present to control them; the men were allowed license and vengeance
to their heart&apos;s content. Soon afterwards Germanicus entered the camp,
and exclaiming with a flood of tears, that this was destruction rather
than remedy, ordered the bodies to be burnt. 

Even then their savage spirit was seized with desire to march against
the enemy, as an atonement for their frenzy, and it was felt that
the shades of their fellow-soldiers could be appeased only by exposing
such impious breasts to honourable scars. Caesar followed up the enthusiasm
of the men, and having bridged over the Rhine, he sent across it 12,000
from the legions, with six-and-twenty allied cohorts, and eight squadrons
of cavalry, whose discipline had been without a stain during the mutiny.

There was exultation among the Germans, not far off, as long as we
were detained by the public mourning for the loss of Augustus, and
then by our dissensions. But the Roman general in a forced march,
cut through the Caesian forest and the barrier which had been begun
by Tiberius, and pitched his camp on this barrier, his front and rear
being defended by intrenchments, his flanks by timber barricades.
He then penetrated some forest passes but little known, and, as there
were two routes, he deliberated whether he should pursue the short
and ordinary route, or that which was more difficult unexplored, and
consequently unguarded by the enemy. He chose the longer way, and
hurried on every remaining preparation, for his scouts had brought
word that among the Germans it was a night of festivity, with games,
and one of their grand banquets. Caecina had orders to advance with
some light cohorts, and to clear away any obstructions from the woods.
The legions followed at a moderate interval. They were helped by a
night of bright starlight, reached the villages of the Marsi, and
threw their pickets round the enemy, who even then were stretched
on beds or at their tables, without the least fear, or any sentries
before their camp, so complete was their carelessness and disorder;
and of war indeed there was no apprehension. Peace it certainly was
not- merely the languid and heedless ease of half-intoxicated people.

Caesar, to spread devastation widely, divided his eager legions into
four columns, and ravaged a space of fifty miles with fire and sword.
Neither sex nor age moved his compassion. Everything, sacred or profane,
the temple too of Tamfana, as they called it, the special resort of
all those tribes, was levelled to the ground. There was not a wound
among our soldiers, who cut down a half-asleep, an unarmed, or a straggling
foe. The Bructeri, Tubantes, and Usipetes, were roused by this slaughter,
and they beset the forest passes through which the army had to return.
The general knew this, and he marched, prepared both to advance and
to fight. Part of the cavalry, and some of the auxiliary cohorts led
the van; then came the first legion, and, with the baggage in the
centre, the men of the twenty-first closed up the left, those of the
fifth, the right flank. The twentieth legion secured the rear, and,
next, were the rest of the allies. 

Meanwhile the enemy moved not till the army began to defile in column
through the woods, then made slight skirmishing attacks on its flanks
and van, and with his whole force charged the rear. The light cohorts
were thrown into confusion by the dense masses of the Germans, when
Caesar rode up to the men of the twentieth legion, and in a loud voice
exclaimed that this was the time for wiping out the mutiny. &quot;Advance,&quot;
he said, &quot;and hasten to turn your guilt into glory.&quot; This fired their
courage, and at a single dash they broke through the enemy, and drove
him back with great slaughter into the open country. At the same moment
the troops of the van emerged from the woods and intrenched a camp.
After this their march was uninterrupted, and the soldiery, with the
confidence of recent success, and forgetful of the past, were placed
in winter-quarters. 

The news was a source of joy and also of anxiety to Tiberius. He rejoiced
that the mutiny was crushed, but the fact that Germanicus had won
the soldiers&apos; favour by lavishing money, and promptly granting the
discharge, as well as his fame as a soldier, annoyed him. Still, he
brought his achievements under the notice of the Senate, and spoke
much of his greatness in language elaborated for effect, more so than
could be believed to come from his inmost heart. He bestowed a briefer
praise on Drusus, and on the termination of the disturbance in Illyricum,
but he was more earnest, and his speech more hearty. And he confirmed,
too, in the armies of Pannonia all the concessions of Germanicus.

That same year Julia ended her days. For her profligacy she had formerly
been confined by her father Augustus in the island of Pandateria,
and then in the town of the Regini on the shores of the straits of
Sicily. She had been the wife of Tiberius while Caius and Lucius Caesar
were in their glory, and had disdained him as an unequal match. This
was Tiberius&apos;s special reason for retiring to Rhodes. When he obtained
the empire, he left her in banishment and disgrace, deprived of all
hope after the murder of Postumus Agrippa, and let her perish by a
lingering death of destitution, with the idea that an obscurity would
hang over her end from the length of her exile. He had a like motive
for cruel vengeance on Sempronius Gracchus, a man of noble family,
of shrewd understanding, and a perverse eloquence, who had seduced
this same Julia when she was the wife of Marcus Agrippa. And this
was not the end of the intrigue. When she had been handed over to
Tiberius, her persistent paramour inflamed her with disobedience and
hatred towards her husband; and a letter which Julia wrote to her
father, Augustus, inveighing against Tiberius, was supposed to be
the composition of Gracchus. He was accordingly banished to Cercina,
where he endured an exile of fourteen years. Then the soldiers who
were sent to slay him, found him on a promontory, expecting no good.
On their arrival, he begged a brief interval in which to give by letter
his last instructions to his wife Alliaria, and then offered his neck
to the executioners, dying with a courage not unworthy of the Sempronian
name, which his degenerate life had dishonoured. Some have related
that these soldiers were not sent from Rome, but by Lucius Asprenas,
proconsul of Africa, on the authority of Tiberius, who had vainly
hoped that the infamy of the murder might be shifted on Asprenas.

The same year witnessed the establishment of religious ceremonies
in a new priesthood of the brotherhood of the Augustales, just as
in former days Titus Tatius, to retain the rites of the Sabines, had
instituted the Titian brotherhood. Twenty-one were chosen by lot from
the chief men of the State; Tiberius, Drusus, Claudius, and Germanicus,
were added to the number. The Augustal game&apos;s which were then inaugurated,
were disturbed by quarrels arising out of rivalry between the actors.
Augustus had shown indulgence to the entertainment by way of humouring
Maecenas&apos;s extravagant passion for Bathyllus, nor did he himself dislike
such amusements, and he thought it citizenlike to mingle in the pleasures
of the populace. Very different was the tendency of Tiberius&apos;s character.
But a people so many years indulgently treated, he did not yet venture
to put under harsher control. 

In the consulship of Drusus Caesar and Caius Norbanus, Germanicus
had a triumph decreed him, though war still lasted. And though it
was for the summer campaign that he was most vigorously preparing,
he anticipated it by a sudden inroad on the Chatti in the beginning
of spring. There had, in fact, sprung up a hope of the enemy being
divided between Arminius and Segestes, famous, respectively, for treachery
and loyalty towards us. Arminius was the disturber of Germany. Segestes
often revealed the fact that a rebellion was being organized, more
especially at that last banquet after which they rushed to arms, and
he urged Varus to arrest himself and Arminius and all the other chiefs,
assuring him that the people would attempt nothing if the leading
men were removed, and that he would then have an opportunity of sifting
accusations and distinguishing the innocent. But Varus fell by fate
and by the sword of Arminius, with whom Segestes, though dragged into
war by the unanimous voice of the nation, continued to be at feud,
his resentment being heightened by personal motives, as Arminius had
married his daughter who was betrothed to another. With a son-in-law
detested, and fathers-in-law also at enmity, what are bonds of love
between united hearts became with bitter foes incentives to fury.

Germanicus accordingly gave Caecina four legions, five thousand auxiliaries,
with some hastily raised levies from the Germans dwelling on the left
bank of the Rhine. He was himself at the head of an equal number of
legions and twice as many allies. Having established a fort on the
site of his father&apos;s entrenchments on Mount Taunus he hurried his
troops in quick marching order against the Chatti, leaving Lucius
Apronius to direct works connected with roads and bridges. With a
dry season and comparatively shallow streams, a rare circumstance
in that climate, he had accomplished, without obstruction, rapid march,
and he feared for his return heavy rains and swollen rivers. But so
suddenly did he come on the Chatti that all the helpless from age
or sex were at once captured or slaughtered. Their able-bodied men
had swum across the river Adrana, and were trying to keep back the
Romans as they were commencing a bridge. Subsequently they were driven
back by missiles and arrows, and having in vain attempted for peace,
some took refuge with Germanicus, while the rest leaving their cantons
and villages dispersed themselves in their forests. 

After burning Mattium, the capital of the tribe, and ravaging the
open country, Germanicus marched back towards the Rhine, the enemy
not daring to harass the rear of the retiring army, which was his
usual practice whenever he fell back by way of stratagem rather than
from panic. It had been the intention of the Cherusci to help the
Chatti; but Caecina thoroughly cowed them, carrying his arms everywhere,
and the Marsi who ventured to engage him, he repulsed in a successful
battle. 

Not long after envoys came from Segestes, imploring aid against the
violence of his fellow-countrymen, by whom he was hemmed in, and with
whom Arminius had greater influence, because he counselled war. For
with barbarians, the more eager a man&apos;s daring, the more does he inspire
confidence, and the more highly is he esteemed in times of revolution.
With the envoys Segestes had associated his son, by name Segimundus,
but the youth hung back from a consciousness of guilt. For in the
year of the revolt of Germany he had been appointed a priest at the
altar of the Ubii, and had rent the sacred garlands, and fled to the
rebels. Induced, however, to hope for mercy from Rome, he brought
his father&apos;s message; he was graciously received and sent with an
escort to the Gallic bank of the Rhine. 

It was now worth while for Germanicus to march back his army. A battle
was fought against the besiegers and Segestes was rescued with a numerous
band of kinsfolk and dependents. In the number were some women of
rank; among them, the wife of Arminius, who was also the daughter
of Segestes, but who exhibited the spirit of her husband rather than
of her father, subdued neither to tears nor to the tones of a suppliant,
her hands tightly clasped within her bosom, and eyes which dwelt on
her hope of offspring. The spoils also taken in the defeat of Varus
were brought in, having been given as plunder to many of those who
were then being surrendered. 

Segestes too was there in person, a stately figure, fearless in the
remembrance of having been a faithful ally. His speech was to this
effect. &quot;This is not my first day of steadfast loyalty towards the
Roman people. From the time that the Divine Augustus gave me the citizenship,
I have chosen my friends and foes with an eye to your advantage, not
from hatred of my fatherland (for traitors are detested even by those
whom they prefer) but because I held that Romans and Germans have
the same interests, and that peace is better than war. And therefore
I denounced to Varus, who then commanded your army, Arminius, the
ravisher of my daughter, the violater of your treaty. I was put off
by that dilatory general, and, as I found but little protection in
the laws, I urged him to arrest myself, Arminius, and his accomplices.
That night is my witness; would that it had been my last. What followed,
may be deplored rather than defended. However, I threw Arminius into
chains and I endured to have them put on myself by his partisans.
And as soon as give opportunity, I show my preference for the old
over the new, for peace over commotion, not to get a reward, but that
I may clear myself from treachery and be at the same time a fit mediator
for a German people, should they choose repentance rather than ruin,
For the youth and error of my son I entreat forgiveness. As for my
daughter, I admit that it is by compulsion she has been brought here.
It will be for you to consider which fact weighs most with you, that
she is with child by Arminius or that she owes her being to me.&quot;

Caesar in a gracious reply promised safety to his children and kinsfolk
and a home for himself in the old province. He then led back the army
and received on the proposal of Tiberius the title of Imperator. The
wife of Arminius gave birth to a male child; the boy, who was brought
up at Ravenna, soon afterwards suffered an insult, which at the proper
time I shall relate. 

The report of the surrender and kind reception of Segestes, when generally
known, was heard with hope or grief according as men shrank from war
or desired it. Arminius, with his naturally furious temper, was driven
to frenzy by the seizure of his wife and the foredooming to slavery
of his wife&apos;s unborn child. He flew hither and thither among the Cherusci,
demanding &quot;war against Segestes, war against Caesar.&quot; And he refrained
not from taunts. &quot;Noble the father,&quot; he would say, &quot;mighty the general,
brave the army which, with such strength, has carried off one weak
woman. Before me, three legions, three commanders have fallen. Not
by treachery, not against pregnant women, but openly against armed
men do I wage war. There are still to be seen in the groves of Germany
the Roman standards which I hung up to our country&apos;s gods. Let Segestes
dwell on the conquered bank; let him restore to his son his priestly
office; one thing there is which Germans will never thoroughly excuse,
their having seen between the Elbe and the Rhine the Roman rods, axes,
and toga. Other nations in their ignorance of Roman rule, have no
experience of punishments, know nothing of tributes, and, as we have
shaken them off, as the great Augustus, ranked among dieties, and
his chosen heir Tiberius, departed from us, baffled, let us not quail
before an inexperienced stripling, before a mutinous army. If you
prefer your fatherland, your ancestors, your ancient life to tyrants
and to new colonies, follow as your leader Arminius to glory and to
freedom rather than Segestes to ignominious servitude.&quot; 

This language roused not only the Cherusci but the neighbouring tribes
and drew to their side Inguiomerus, the uncle of Arminius, who had
long been respected by the Romans. This increased Caesar&apos;s alarm.
That the war might not burst in all its fury on one point, he sent
Caecina through the Bructeri to the river Amisia with forty Roman
cohorts to distract the enemy, while the cavalry was led by its commander
Pedo by the territories of the Frisii. Germanicus himself put four
legions on shipboard and conveyed them through the lakes, and the
infantry, cavalry, and fleet met simultaneously at the river already
mentioned. The Chauci, on promising aid, were associated with us in
military fellowship. Lucius Stertinius was despatched by Germanicus
with a flying column and routed the Bructeri as they were burning
their possessions, and amid the carnage and plunder, found the eagle
of the nineteenth legion which had been lost with Varus. The troops
were then marched to the furthest frontier of the Bructeri, and all
the country between the rivers Amisia and Luppia was ravaged, not
far from the forest of Teutoburgium where the remains of Varus and
his legions were said to lie unburied. 

Germanicus upon this was seized with an eager longing to pay the last
honour to those soldiers and their general, while the whole army present
was moved to compassion by the thought of their kinsfolk and friends,
and, indeed, of the calamities of wars and the lot of mankind. Having
sent on Caecina in advance to reconnoitre the obscure forest-passes,
and to raise bridges and causeways over watery swamps and treacherous
plains, they visited the mournful scenes, with their horrible sights
and associations. Varus&apos;s first camp with its wide circumference and
the measurements of its central space clearly indicated the handiwork
of three legions. Further on, the partially fallen rampart and the
shallow fosse suggested the inference that it was a shattered remnant
of the army which had there taken up a position. In the centre of
the field were the whitening bones of men, as they had fled, or stood
their ground, strewn everywhere or piled in heaps. Near, lay fragments
of weapons and limbs of horses, and also human heads, prominently
nailed to trunks of trees. In the adjacent groves were the barbarous
altars, on which they had immolated tribunes and first-rank centurions.
Some survivors of the disaster who had escaped from the battle or
from captivity, described how this was the spot where the officers
fell, how yonder the eagles were captured, where Varus was pierced
by his first wound, where too by the stroke of his own ill-starred
hand he found for himself death. They pointed out too the raised ground
from which Arminius had harangued his army, the number of gibbets
for the captives, the pits for the living, and how in his exultation
he insulted the standards and eagles. 

And so the Roman army now on the spot, six years after the disaster,
in grief and anger, began to bury the bones of the three legions,
not a soldier knowing whether he was interring the relics of a relative
or a stranger, but looking on all as kinsfolk and of their own blood,
while their wrath rose higher than ever against the foe. In raising
the barrow Caesar laid the first sod, rendering thus a most welcome
honour to the dead, and sharing also in the sorrow of those present.
This Tiberius did not approve, either interpreting unfavourably every
act of Germanicus, or because he thought that the spectacle of the
slain and unburied made the army slow to fight and more afraid of
the enemy, and that a general invested with the augurate and its very
ancient ceremonies ought not to have polluted himself with funeral
rites. 

Germanicus, however, pursued Arminius as he fell back into trackless
wilds, and as soon as he had the opportunity, ordered his cavalry
to sally forth and scour the plains occupied by the enemy. Arminius
having bidden his men to concentrate themselves and keep close to
the woods, suddenly wheeled round, and soon gave those whom he had
concealed in the forest passes the signal to rush to the attack. Thereupon
our cavalry was thrown into disorder by this new force, and some cohorts
in reserve were sent, which, broken by the shock of flying troops,
increased the panic. They were being pushed into a swamp, well known
to the victorious assailants, perilous to men unacquainted with it,
when Caesar led forth his legions in battle array. This struck terror
into the enemy and gave confidence to our men, and they separated
without advantage to either. 

Soon afterwards Germanicus led back his army to the Amisia, taking
his legions by the fleet, as he had brought them up. Part of the cavalry
was ordered to make for the Rhine along the sea-coast. Caecina, who
commanded a division of his own, was advised, though he was returning
by a route which he knew, to pass Long Bridges with all possible speed.
This was a narrow road amid vast swamps, which had formerly been constructed
by Lucius Domitius; on every side were quagmires of thick clinging
mud, or perilous with streams. Around were woods on a gradual slope,
which Arminius now completely occupied, as soon as by a short route
and quick march he had outstripped troops heavily laden with baggage
and arms. As Caecina was in doubt how he could possibly replace bridges
which were ruinous from age, and at the same time hold back the enemy,
he resolved to encamp on the spot, that some might begin the repair
and others the attack. 

The barbarians attempted to break through the outposts and to throw
themselves on the engineering parties, which they harassed, pacing
round them and continually charging them. There was a confused din
from the men at work and the combatants. Everything alike was unfavourable
to the Romans, the place with its deep swamps, insecure to the foot
and slippery as one advanced, limbs burdened with coats of mail, and
the impossibility of aiming their javelins amid the water. The Cherusci,
on the other hand, were familiar with fighting in fens; they had huge
frames, and lances long enough to inflict wounds even at a distance.
Night at last released the legions, which were now wavering, from
a disastrous engagement. The Germans whom success rendered unwearied,
without even then taking any rest, turned all the streams which rose
from the slopes of the surrounding hills into the lands beneath. The
ground being thus flooded and the completed portion of our works submerged,
the soldiers&apos; labour was doubled. 

This was Caecina&apos;s fortieth campaign as a subordinate or a commander,
and, with such experience of success and peril, he was perfectly fearless.
As he thought over future possibilities, he could devise no plan but
to keep the enemy within the woods, till the wounded and the more
encumbered troops were in advance. For between the hills and the swamps
there stretched a plain which would admit of an extended line. The
legions had their assigned places, the fifth on the right wing, the
twenty-first on the left, the men of the first to lead the van, the
twentieth to repel pursuers. 

It was a restless night for different reasons, the barbarians in their
festivity filling the valleys under the hills and the echoing glens
with merry song or savage shouts, while in the Roman camp were flickering
fires, broken exclamations, and the men lay scattered along the intrenchments
or wandered from tent to tent, wakeful rather than watchful. A ghastly
dream appalled the general. He seemed to see Quintilius Varus, covered
with blood, rising out of the swamps, and to hear him, as it were,
calling to him, but he did not, as he imagined, obey the call; he
even repelled his hand, as he stretched it over him. At daybreak the
legions, posted on the wings, from panic or perversity, deserted their
position and hastily occupied a plain beyond the morass. Yet Arminius,
though free to attack, did not at the moment rush out on them. But
when the baggage was clogged in the mud and in the fosses, the soldiers
around it in disorder, the array of the standards in confusion, every
one in selfish haste and all ears deaf to the word of command he ordered
the Germans to charge, exclaiming again and again, &quot;Behold a Varus
and legions once more entangled in Varus&apos;s fate.&quot; As he spoke, he
cut through the column with some picked men, inflicting wounds chiefly
on the horses. Staggering in their blood on the slippery marsh, they
shook off their riders, driving hither and thither all in their way,
and trampling on the fallen. The struggle was hottest round the eagles,
which could neither be carried in the face of the storm of missiles,
nor planted in the miry soil. Caecina, while he was keeping up the
battle, fell from his horse, which was pierced under him, and was
being hemmed in, when the first legion threw itself in the way. The
greed of the foe helped him, for they left the slaughter to secure
the spoil, and the legions, towards evening, struggled on to open
and firm ground. 

Nor did this end their miseries. Entrenchments had to be thrown up,
materials sought for earthworks, while the army had lost to a great
extent their implements for digging earth and cutting turf. There
were no tents for the rank and file, no comforts for the wounded.
As they shared their food, soiled by mire or blood, they bewailed
the darkness with its awful omen, and the one day which yet remained
to so many thousand men. 

It chanced that a horse, which had broken its halter and wandered
wildly in fright at the uproar, overthrew some men against whom it
dashed. Thence arose such a panic, from the belief that the Germans
had burst into the camp, that all rushed to the gates. Of these the
decuman gate was the point chiefly sought, as it was furthest from
the enemy and safer for flight. Caecina, having ascertained that the
alarm was groundless, yet being unable to stop or stay the soldiers
by authority or entreaties or even by force, threw himself to the
earth in the gateway, and at last by an appeal to their pity, as they
would have had to pass over the body of their commander, closed the
way. At the same moment the tribunes and the centurions convinced
them that it was a false alarm. 

Having then assembled them at his headquarters, and ordered them to
hear his words in silence, he reminded them of the urgency of the
crisis. &quot;Their safety,&quot; he said, &quot;lay in their arms, which they must,
however, use with discretion, and they must remain within the entrenchments,
till the enemy approached closer, in the hope of storming them; then,
there must be a general sortie; by that sortie the Rhine might be
reached. Whereas if they fled, more forests, deeper swamps, and a
savage foe awaited them; but if they were victorious, glory and renown
would be theirs.&quot; He dwelt on all that was dear to them at home, all
that testified to their honour in the camp, without any allusion to
disaster. Next he handed over the horses, beginning with his own,
of the officers and tribunes, to the bravest fighters in the army,
quite impartially, that these first, and then the infantry, might
charge the enemy. 

There was as much restlessness in the German host with its hopes,
its eager longings, and the conflicting opinions of its chiefs. Arminius
advised that they should allow the Romans to quit their position,
and, when they had quitted it, again surprise them in swampy and intricate
ground. Inguiomerus, with fiercer counsels, heartily welcome to barbarians,
was for beleaguering the entrenchment in armed array, as to storm
them would, he said, be easy, and there would be more prisoners and
the booty unspoilt. So at daybreak they trampled in the fosses, flung
hurdles into them, seized the upper part of the breastwork, where
the troops were thinly distributed and seemingly paralysed by fear.
When they were fairly within the fortifications, the signal was given
to the cohorts, and the horns and trumpets sounded. Instantly, with
a shout and sudden rush, our men threw themselves on the German rear,
with taunts, that here were no woods or swamps, but that they were
on equal ground, with equal chances. The sound of trumpets, the gleam
of arms, which were so unexpected, burst with all the greater effect
on the enemy, thinking only, as they were, of the easy destruction
of a few half-armed men, and they were struck down, as unprepared
for a reverse as they had been elated by success. Arminius and Inguiomerus
fled from the battle, the first unhurt, the other severely wounded.
Their followers were slaughtered, as long as our fury and the light
of day lasted. It was not till night that the legions returned, and
though more wounds and the same want of provisions distressed them,
yet they found strength, healing, sustenance, everything indeed, in
their victory. 

Meanwhile a rumour had spread that our army was cut off, and that
a furious German host was marching on Gaul. And had not Agrippina
prevented the bridge over the Rhine from being destroyed, some in
their cowardice would have dared that base act. A woman of heroic
spirit, she assumed during those days the duties of a general, and
distributed clothes or medicine among the soldiers, as they were destitute
or wounded. According to Caius Plinius, the historian of the German
wars, she stood at the extremity of the bridge, and bestowed praise
and thanks on the returning legions. This made a deep impression on
the mind of Tiberius. &quot;Such zeal,&quot; he thought, &quot;could not be guileless;
it was not against a foreign foe that she was thus courting the soldiers.
Generals had nothing left them when a woman went among the companies,
attended the standards, ventured on bribery, as though it showed but
slight ambition to parade her son in a common soldier&apos;s uniform, and
wish him to be called Caesar Caligula. Agrippina had now more power
with the armies than officers, than generals. A woman had quelled
a mutiny which the sovereign&apos;s name could not check.&quot; All this was
inflamed and aggravated by Sejanus, who, with his thorough comprehension
of the character of Tiberius, sowed for a distant future hatreds which
the emperor might treasure up and might exhibit when fully matured.

Of the legions which he had conveyed by ship, Germanicus gave the
second and fourteenth to Publius Vitellius, to be marched by land,
so that the fleet might sail more easily over a sea full of shoals,
or take the ground more lightly at the ebb-tide. Vitellius at first
pursued his route without interruption, having a dry shore, or the
waves coming in gently. After a while, through the force of the north
wind and the equinoctial season, when the sea swells to its highest,
his army was driven and tossed hither and thither. The country too
was flooded; sea, shore, fields presented one aspect, nor could the
treacherous quicksands be distinguished from solid ground or shallows
from deep water. Men were swept away by the waves or sucked under
by eddies; beasts of burden, baggage, lifeless bodies floated about
and blocked their way. The companies were mingled in confusion, now
with the breast, now with the head only above water, sometimes losing
their footing and parted from their comrades or drowned. The voice
of mutual encouragement availed not against the adverse force of the
waves. There was nothing to distinguish the brave from the coward,
the prudent from the careless, forethought from chance; the same strong
power swept everything before it. At last Vitellius struggled out
to higher ground and led his men up to it. There they passed the night,
without necessary food, without fire, many of them with bare or bruised
limbs, in a plight as pitiable as that of men besieged by an enemy.
For such, at least, have the opportunity of a glorious death, while
here was destruction without honour. Daylight restored land to their
sight, and they pushed their way to the river Visurgis, where Caesar
had arrived with the fleet. The legions then embarked, while a rumour
was flying about that they were drowned. Nor was there a belief in
their safety till they saw Caesar and the army returned.

By this time Stertinius, who had been despatched to receive the surrender
of Segimerus, brother of Segestes, had conducted the chief, together
with his son, to the canton of the Ubii. Both were pardoned, Segimerus
readily, the son with some hesitation, because it was said that he
had insulted the corpse of Quintilius Varus. Meanwhile Gaul, Spain,
and Italy vied in repairing the losses of the army, offering whatever
they had at hand, arms, horses, gold. Germanicus having praised their
zeal, took only for the war their arms and horses, and relieved the
soldiers out of his own purse. And that he might also soften the remembrance
of the disaster by kindness, he went round to the wounded, applauded
the feats of soldier after soldier, examined their wounds, raised
the hopes of one, the ambition of another, and the spirits of all
by his encouragement and interest, thus strengthening their ardour
for himself and for battle. 

That year triumphal honours were decreed to Aulus Caecina, Lucius
Apronius, Caius Silius for their achievements under Germanicus. The
title of &quot;father of his country,&quot; which the people had so often thrust
on him, Tiberius refused, nor would he allow obedience to be sworn
to his enactments, though the Senate voted it, for he said repeatedly
that all human things were uncertain, and that the more he had obtained,
the more precarious was his position. But he did not thereby create
a belief in his patriotism, for he had revived the law of treason,
the name of which indeed was known in ancient times, though other
matters came under its jurisdiction, such as the betrayal of an army,
or seditious stirring up of the people, or, in short, any corrupt
act by which a man had impaired &quot;the majesty of the people of Rome.&quot;
Deeds only were liable to accusation; words went unpunished. It was
Augustus who first, under colour of this law, applied legal inquiry
to libellous writings provoked, as he had been, by the licentious
freedom with which Cassius Severus had defamed men and women of distinction
in his insulting satires. Soon afterwards, Tiberius, when consulted
by Pompeius Macer, the praetor, as to whether prosecutions for treason
should be revived, replied that the laws must be enforced. He too
had been exasperated by the publication of verses of uncertain authorship,
pointed at his cruelty, his arrogance, and his dissensions with his
mother. 

It will not be uninteresting if I relate in the cases of Falanius
and Rubrius, Roman knights of moderate fortune, the first experiments
at such accusations, in order to explain the origin of a most terrible
scourge, how by Tiberius&apos;s cunning it crept in among us, how subsequently
it was checked, finally, how it burst into flame and consumed everything.
Against Falanius it was alleged by his accuser that he had admitted
among the votaries of Augustus, who in every great house were associated
into a kind of brotherhood, one Cassius, a buffoon of infamous life,
and that he had also in selling his gardens included in the sale a
statue of Augustus. Against Rubrius the charge was that he had violated
by perjury the divinity of Augustus. When this was known to Tiberius,
he wrote to the consuls &quot;that his father had not had a place in heaven
decreed to him, that the honour might be turned to the destruction
of the citizens. Cassius, the actor, with men of the same profession,
used to take part in the games which had been consecrated by his mother
to the memory of Augustus. Nor was it contrary to the religion of
the State for the emperor&apos;s image, like those of other deities, to
be added to a sale of gardens and houses. As to the oath, the thing
ought to be considered as if the man had deceived Jupiter. Wrongs
done to the gods were the gods&apos; concern.&quot; 

Not long afterwards, Granius Marcellus, proconsul of Bithynia, was
accused of treason by his quaestor, Caepio Crispinus, and the charge
was supported by Romanus Hispo. Crispinus then entered on a line of
life afterwards rendered notorious by the miseries of the age and
men&apos;s shamelessness. Needy, obscure, and restless, he wormed himself
by stealthy informations into the confidence of a vindictive prince,
and soon imperilled all the most distinguished citizens; and having
thus gained influence with one, hatred from all besides, he left an
example in following which beggars became wealthy, the insignificant,
formidable, and brought ruin first on others, finally on themselves.
He alleged against Marcellus that he had made some disrespectful remarks
about Tiberius, a charge not to be evaded, inasmuch as the accuser
selected the worst features of the emperor&apos;s character and grounded
his case on them. The things were true, and so were believed to have
been said. 

Hispo added that Marcellus had placed his own statue above those of
the Caesars, and had set the bust of Tiberius on another statue from
which he had struck off the head of Augustus. At this the emperor&apos;s
wrath blazed forth, and, breaking through his habitual silence, he
exclaimed that in such a case he would himself too give his vote openly
on oath, that the rest might be under the same obligation. There lingered
even then a few signs of expiring freedom. And so Cneius Piso asked,
&quot;In what order will you vote, Caesar? If first, I shall know what
to follow; if last, I fear that I may differ from you unwillingly.&quot;
Tiberius was deeply moved, and repenting of the outburst, all the
more because of its thoughtlessness, he quietly allowed the accused
to be acquitted of the charges of treason. As for the question of
extortion, it was referred to a special commission. 

Not satisfied with judicial proceedings in the Senate, the emperor
would sit at one end of the Praetor&apos;s tribunal, but so as not to displace
him from the official seat. Many decisions were given in his presence,
in opposition to improper influence and the solicitations of great
men. This, though it promoted justice, ruined freedom. Pius Aurelius,
for example, a senator, complained that the foundations of his house
had been weakened by the pressure of a public road and aqueduct, and
he appealed to the Senate for assistance. He was opposed by the praetors
of the treasury, but the emperor helped him, and paid him the value
of his house, for he liked to spend money on a good purpose, a virtue
which he long retained, when he cast off all others. To Propertius
Celer, an ex-praetor, who sought because of his indigence to be excused
from his rank as a senator, he gave a million sesterces, having ascertained
that he had inherited poverty. He bade others, who attempted the same,
prove their case to the Senate, as from his love of strictness he
was harsh even where he acted on right grounds. Consequently every
one else preferred silence and poverty to confession and relief.

In the same year the Tiber, swollen by continuous rains, flooded the
level portions of the city. Its subsidence was followed by a destruction
of buildings and of life. Thereupon Asinius Gallus proposed to consult
the Sibylline books. Tiberius refused, veiling in obscurity the divine
as well as the human. However, the devising of means to confine the
river was intrusted to Ateius Capito and Lucius Arruntius.

Achaia and Macedonia, on complaining of their burdens, were, it was
decided, to be relieved for a time from proconsular government and
to be transferred to the emperor. Drusus presided over a show of gladiators
which he gave in his own name and in that of his brother Germanicus,
for he gloated intensely over bloodshed, however cheap its victims.
This was alarming to the populace, and his father had, it was said,
rebuked him. Why Tiberius kept away from the spectacle was variously
explained. According to some, it was his loathing of a crowd, according
to others, his gloomy temper, and a fear of contrast with the gracious
presence of Augustus. I cannot believe that he deliberately gave his
son the opportunity of displaying his ferocity and provoking the people&apos;s
disgust, though even this was said. 

Meanwhile the unruly tone of the theatre which first showed itself
in the preceding year, broke out with worse violence, and some soldiers
and a centurion, besides several of the populace, were killed, and
the tribune of a praetorian cohort was wounded, while they were trying
to stop insults to the magistrates and the strife of the mob. This
disturbance was the subject of a debate in the Senate, and opinions
were expressed in favour of the praetors having authority to scourge
actors. Haterius Agrippa, tribune of the people, interposed his veto,
and was sharply censured in a speech from Asinius Gallus, without
a word from Tiberius, who liked to allow the Senate such shows of
freedom. Still the interposition was successful, because Augustus
had once pronounced that actors were exempt from the scourge, and
it was not lawful for Tiberius to infringe his decisions. Many enactments
were passed to fix the amount of their pay and to check the disorderly
behaviour of their partisans. Of these the chief were that no Senator
should enter the house of a pantomime player, that Roman knights should
not crowd round them in the public streets, that they should exhibit
themselves only in the theatre, and that the praetors should be empowered
to punish with banishment any riotous conduct in the spectators.

A request from the Spaniards that they might erect a temple to Augustus
in the colony of Tarraco was granted, and a precedent thus given for
all the provinces. When the people of Rome asked for a remission of
the one per cent. tax on all saleable commodities, Tiberius declared
by edict &quot;that the military exchequer depended on that branch of revenue,
and, further, that the State was unequal to the burden, unless the
twentieth year of service were to be that of the veteran&apos;s discharge.&quot;
Thus the ill-advised results of the late mutiny, by which a limit
of sixteen campaigns had been extorted, were cancelled for the future.

A question was then raised in the Senate by Arruntius and Ateius whether,
in order to restrain the inundations of the Tiber, the rivers and
lakes which swell its waters should be diverted from their courses.
A hearing was given to embassies from the municipal towns and colonies,
and the people of Florentia begged that the Clanis might not be turned
out of its channel and made to flow into the Arnus, as that would
bring ruin on themselves. Similar arguments were used by the inhabitants
of Interamna. The most fruitful plains of Italy, they said, would
be destroyed if the river Nar (for this was the plan proposed) were
to be divided into several streams and overflow the country. Nor did
the people of Reate remain silent. They remonstrated against the closing
up of the Veline lake, where it empties itself into the Nar, &quot;as it
would burst in a flood on the entire neighbourhood. Nature had admirably
provided for human interests in having assigned to rivers their mouths,
their channels, and their limits, as well as their sources. Regard,
too, must be paid to the different religions of the allies, who had
dedicated sacred rites, groves, and altars to the rivers of their
country. Tiber himself would be altogether unwilling to be deprived
of his neighbour streams and to flow with less glory.&quot; Either the
entreaties of the colonies, or the difficulty of the work or superstitious
motives prevailed, and they yielded to Piso&apos;s opinion, who declared
himself against any change. 

Poppaeus Sabinus was continued in his government of the province of
Moesia with the addition of Achaia and Macedonia. It was part of Tiberius&apos;
character to prolong indefinitely military commands and to keep many
men to the end of their life with the same armies and in the same
administrations. Various motives have been assigned for this. Some
say that, out of aversion to any fresh anxiety, he retained what he
had once approved as a permanent arrangement; others, that he grudged
to see many enjoying promotion. Some, again, think that though he
had an acute intellect, his judgment was irresolute, for he did not
seek out eminent merit, and yet he detested vice. From the best men
he apprehended danger to himself, from the worst, disgrace to the
State. He went so far at last in this irresolution, that he appointed
to provinces men whom he did not mean to allow to leave Rome.

I can hardly venture on any positive statement about the consular
elections, now held for the first time under this emperor, or, indeed,
subsequently, so conflicting are the accounts we find not only in
historians but in Tiberius&apos; own speeches. Sometimes he kept back the
names of the candidates, describing their origin, their life and military
career, so that it might be understood who they were. Occasionally
even these hints were withheld, and, after urging them not to disturb
the elections by canvassing, he would promise his own help towards
the result. Generally he declared that only those had offered themselves
to him as candidates whose names he had given to the consuls, and
that others might offer themselves if they had confidence in their
influence or merit. A plausible profession this in words, but really
unmeaning and delusive, and the greater the disguise of freedom which
marked it, the more cruel the enslavement into which it was soon to
plunge us. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

BOOK II

A.D. 16-19 

In the consulship of Sisenna Statilius Taurus and Lucius Libo there
was a commotion in the kingdoms and Roman provinces of the East. It
had its origin among the Parthians, who disdained as a foreigner a
king whom they had sought and received from Rome, though he was of
the family of the Arsacids. This was Vonones, who had been given as
an hostage to Augustus by Phraates. For although he had driven before
him armies and generals from Rome, Phraates had shown to Augustus
every token of reverence and had sent him some of his children, to
cement the friendship, not so much from dread of us as from distrust
of the loyalty of his countrymen. 

After the death of Phraates and the succeeding kings in the bloodshed
of civil wars, there came to Rome envoys from the chief men of Parthia,
in quest of Vonones, his eldest son. Caesar thought this a great honour
to himself, and loaded Vonones with wealth. The barbarians, too, welcomed
him with rejoicing, as is usual with new rulers. Soon they felt shame
at Parthians having become degenerate, at their having sought a king
from another world, one too infected with the training of the enemy,
at the throne of the Arsacids now being possessed and given away among
the provinces of Rome. &quot;Where,&quot; they asked, &quot;was the glory of the
men who slew Crassus, who drove out Antonius, if Caesar&apos;s drudge,
after an endurance of so many years&apos; slavery, were to rule over Parthians.&quot;

Vonones himself too further provoked their disdain, by his contrast
with their ancestral manners, by his rare indulgence in the chase,
by his feeble interest in horses, by the litter in which he was carried
whenever he made a progress through their cities, and by his contemptuous
dislike of their national festivities. They also ridiculed his Greek
attendants and his keeping under seal the commonest household articles.
But he was easy of approach; his courtesy was open to all, and he
had thus virtues with which the Parthians were unfamiliar, and vices
new to them. And as his ways were quite alien from theirs they hated
alike what was bad and what was good in him. 

Accordingly they summoned Artabanus, an Arsacid by blood, who had
grown to manhood among the Dahae, and who, though routed in the first
encounter, rallied his forces and possessed himself of the kingdom.
The conquered Vonones found a refuge in Armenia, then a free country,
and exposed to the power of Parthia and Rome, without being trusted
by either, in consequence of the crime of Antonius, who, under the
guise of friendship, had inveigled Artavasdes, king of the Armenians,
then loaded him with chains, and finally murdered him. His son, Artaxias,
our bitter foe because of his father&apos;s memory, found defence for himself
and his kingdom in the might of the Arsacids. When he was slain by
the treachery of kinsmen, Caesar gave Tigranes to the Armenians, and
he was put in possession of the kingdom under the escort of Tiberius
Nero. But neither Tigranes nor his children reigned long, though,
in foreign fashion, they were united in marriage and in royal power.

Next, at the bidding of Augustus, Artavasdes was set on the throne,
nor was he deposed without disaster to ourselves. Caius Caesar was
then appointed to restore order in Armenia. He put over the Armenians
Ariobarzanes, a Mede by birth, whom they willingly accepted, because
of his singularly handsome person and noble spirit. On the death of
Ariobarzanes through a fatal accident, they would not endure his son.
Having tried the government of a woman named Erato and having soon
afterwards driven her from them, bewildered and disorganised, rather
indeed without a ruler than enjoying freedom, they received for their
king the fugitive Vonones. When, however, Artabanus began to threaten,
and but feeble support could be given by the Armenians, or war with
Parthia would have to be undertaken, if Vonones was to be upheld by
our arms, the governor of Syria, Creticus Silanus, sent for him and
kept him under surveillance, letting him retain his royal pomp and
title. How Vonones meditated an escape from this mockery, I will relate
in the proper place. 

Meanwhile the commotion in the East was rather pleasing to Tiberius,
as it was a pretext for withdrawing Germanicus from the legions which
knew him well, and placing him over new provinces where he would be
exposed both to treachery and to disasters. Germanicus, however, in
proportion to the strength of the soldiers&apos; attachment and to his
uncle&apos;s dislike, was eager to hasten his victory, and he pondered
on plans of battle, and on the reverses or successes which during
more than three years of war had fallen to his lot. The Germans, he
knew, were beaten in the field and on fair ground; they were helped
by woods, swamps, short summers, and early winters. His own troops
were affected not so much by wounds as by long marches and damage
to their arms. Gaul had been exhausted by supplying horses; a long
baggage-train presented facilities for ambuscades, and was embarrassing
to its defenders. But by embarking on the sea, invasion would be easy
for them, and a surprise to the enemy, while a campaign too would
be more quickly begun, the legions and supplies would be brought up
simultaneously, and the cavalry with their horses would arrive, in
good condition, by the rivermouths and channels, at the heart of Germany.

To this accordingly he gave his mind, and sent Publius Vitellius and
Caius Antius to collect the taxes of Gaul. Silius, Anteius, and Caecina
had the charge of building a fleet. It seemed that a thousand vessels
were required, and they were speedily constructed, some of small draught
with a narrow stem and stern and a broad centre, that they might bear
the waves more easily; some flat-bottomed, that they might ground
without being injured; several, furnished with a rudder at each end,
so that by a sudden shifting of the oars they might be run into shore
either way. Many were covered in with decks, on which engines for
missiles might be conveyed, and were also fit for the carrying of
horses or supplies, and being equipped with sails as well as rapidly
moved by oars, they assumed, through the enthusiasm of our soldiers,
an imposing and formidable aspect. 

The island of the Batavi was the appointed rendezvous, because of
its easy landing-places, and its convenience for receiving the army
and carrying the war across the river. For the Rhine after flowing
continuously in a single channel or encircling merely insignificant
islands, divides itself, so to say, where the Batavian territory begins,
into two rivers, retaining its name and the rapidity of its course
in the stream which washes Germany, till it mingles with the ocean.
On the Gallic bank, its flow is broader and gentler; it is called
by an altered name, the Vahal, by the inhabitants of its shore. Soon
that name too is changed for the Mosa river, through whose vast mouth
it empties itself into the same ocean. 

Caesar, however, while the vessels were coming up, ordered Silius,
his lieutenant-general, to make an inroad on the Chatti with a flying
column. He himself, on hearing that a fort on the river Luppia was
being besieged, led six legions to the spot. Silius owing to sudden
rains did nothing but carry off a small booty, and the wife and daughter
of Arpus, the chief of the Chatti. And Caesar had no opportunity of
fighting given him by the besiegers, who dispersed on the rumour of
his advance. They had, however, destroyed the barrow lately raised
in memory of Varus&apos;s legions, and the old altar of Drusus. The prince
restored the altar, and himself with his legions celebrated funeral
games in his father&apos;s honour. To raise a new barrow was not thought
necessary. All the country between the fort Aliso and the Rhine was
thoroughly secured by new barriers and earthworks. 

By this time the fleet had arrived, and Caesar, having sent on his
supplies and assigned vessels for the legions and the allied troops,
entered &quot;Drusus&apos;s fosse,&quot; as it was called. He prayed Drusus his father
to lend him, now that he was venturing on the same enterprise, the
willing and favourable aid of the example and wi memory of his counsels
and achievements, and he arrived after a prosperous voyage through
the lakes and the ocean as far as the river Amisia. His fleet remained
there on the left bank of the stream, and it was a blunder that he
did not have it brought up the river. He disembarked the troops, which
were to be marched to the country on the right, and thus several days
were wasted in the construction of bridges. The cavalry and the legions
fearlessly crossed the first estuaries in which the tide had not yet
risen. The rear of the auxiliaries, and the Batavi among the number,
plunging recklessly into the water and displaying their skill in swimming,
fell into disorder, and some were drowned. While Caesar was measuring
out his camp, he was told of a revolt of the Angrivarii in his rear.
He at once despatched Stertinius with some cavalry and a light armed
force, who punished their perfidy with fire and sword. 

The waters of the Visurgis flowed between the Romans and the Cherusci.
On its banks stood Arminius with the other chiefs. He asked whether
Caesar had arrived, and on the reply that he was present, he begged
leave to have an interview with his brother. That brother, surnamed
Flavus, was with our army, a man famous for his loyalty, and for having
lost an eye by a wound, a few years ago, when Tiberius was in command.
The permission was then given, and he stepped forth and was saluted
by Arminius, who had removed his guards to a distance and required
that the bowmen ranged on our bank should retire. When they had gone
away, Arminius asked his brother whence came the scar which disfigured
his face, and on being told the particular place and battle, he inquired
what reward he had received. Flavus spoke of increased pay, of a neck
chain, a crown, and other military gifts, while Arminius jeered at
such a paltry recompense for slavery. 

Then began a controversy. The one spoke of the greatness of Rome,
the resources of Caesar, the dreadful punishment in store for the
vanquished, the ready mercy for him who surrenders, and the fact that
neither Arminius&apos;s wife nor his son were treated as enemies; the other,
of the claims of fatherland, of ancestral freedom, of the gods of
the homes of Germany, of the mother who shared his prayers, that Flavus
might not choose to be the deserter and betrayer rather than the ruler
of his kinsfolk and relatives, and indeed of his own people.

By degrees they fell to bitter words, and even the river between them
would not have hindered them from joining combat, had not Stertinius
hurried up and put his hand on Flavus, who in the full tide of his
fury was demanding his weapons and his charger. Arminius was seen
facing him, full of menaces and challenging him to conflict. Much
of what he said was in Roman speech, for he had served in our camp
as leader of his fellow-countrymen. 

Next day the German army took up its position on the other side of
the Visurgis. Caesar, thinking that without bridges and troops to
guard them, it would not be good generalship to expose the legions
to danger, sent the cavalry across the river by the fords. It was
commanded by Stertinius and Aemilius, one of the first rank centurions,
who attacked at widely different points so as to distract the enemy.
Chariovalda, the Batavian chief, dashed to the charge where the stream
is most rapid. The Cherusci, by a pretended flight, drew him into
a plain surrounded by forest-passes. Then bursting on him in a sudden
attack from all points they thrust aside all who resisted, pressed
fiercely on their retreat, driving them before them, when they rallied
in compact array, some by close fighting, others by missiles from
a distance. Chariovalda, after long sustaining the enemy&apos;s fury, cheered
on his men to break by a dense formation the onset of their bands,
while he himself, plunging into the thickest of the battle, fell amid
a shower of darts with his horse pierced under him, and round him
many noble chiefs. The rest were rescued from the peril by their own
strength, or by the cavalry which came up with Stertinius and Aemilius.

Caesar on crossing the Visurgis learnt by the information of a deserter
that Arminius had chosen a battle-field, that other tribes too had
assembled in a forest sacred to Hercules, and would venture on a night
attack on his camp. He put faith in this intelligence, and, besides,
several watchfires were seen. Scouts also, who had crept close up
to the enemy, reported that they had heard the neighing of horses
and the hum of a huge and tumultuous host. And so as the decisive
crisis drew near, that he ought thoroughly to sound the temper of
his soldiers, he considered with himself how this was to be accomplished
with a genuine result. Tribunes and centurions, he knew, oftener reported
what was welcome than what was true; freedmen had slavish spirits,
friends a love of flattery. If an assembly were called, there too
the lead of a few was followed by the shout of the many. He must probe
their inmost thoughts, when they were uttering their hopes and fears
at the military mess, among themselves, and unwatched. 

At nightfall, leaving his tent of augury by a secret exit, unknown
to the sentries, with one companion, his shoulders covered with a
wild beast&apos;s skin, he visited the camp streets, stood by the tents,
and enjoyed the men&apos;s talk about himself, as one extolled his noble
rank, another, his handsome person, nearly all of them, his endurance,
his gracious manner and the evenness of his temper, whether he was
jesting or was serious, while they acknowledged that they ought to
repay him with their gratitude in battle, and at the same time sacrifice
to a glorious vengeance the perfidious violators of peace. Meanwhile
one of the enemy, acquainted with the Roman tongue, spurred his horse
up to the entrenchments, and in a loud voice promised in the name
of Arminius to all deserters wives and lands with daily pay of a hundred
sesterces as long as war lasted. The insult fired the wrath of the
legions. &quot;Let daylight come,&quot; they said, &quot;let battle be given. The
soldiers will possess themselves of the lands of the Germans and will
carry off their wives. We hail the omen; we mean the women and riches
of the enemy to be our spoil.&quot; About midday there was a skirmishing
attack on our camp, without any discharge of missiles, when they saw
the cohorts in close array before the lines and no sign of carelessness.

The same night brought with it a cheering dream to Germanicus. He
saw himself engaged in sacrifice, and his robe being sprinkled with
the sacred blood, another more beautiful was given him by the hands
of his grandmother Augusta. Encouraged by the omen and finding the
auspices favourable, he called an assembly, and explained the precautions
which wisdom suggested as suitable for the impending battle. &quot;It is
not,&quot; he said, &quot;plains only which are good for the fighting of Roman
soldiers, but woods and forest passes, if science be used. For the
huge shields and unwieldly lances of the barbarians cannot, amid trunks
of trees and brushwood that springs from the ground, be so well managed
as our javelins and swords and closefitting armour. Shower your blows
thickly; strike at the face with your swords&apos; points. The German has
neither cuirass nor helmet; even his shield is not strengthened with
leather or steel, but is of osiers woven together or of thin and painted
board. If their first line is armed with spears, the rest have only
weapons hardened by fire or very short. Again, though their frames
are terrible to the eye and formidable in a brief onset, they have
no capacity of enduring wounds; without, any shame at the disgrace,
without any regard to their leaders, they quit the field and flee;
they quail under disaster, just as in success they forget alike divine
and human laws. If in your weariness of land and sea you desire an
end of service, this battle prepares the way to it. The Elbe is now
nearer than the Rhine, and there is no war beyond, provided only you
enable me, keeping close as I do to my father&apos;s and my uncle&apos;s footsteps,
to stand a conqueror on the same spot.&quot; 

The general&apos;s speech was followed by enthusiasm in the soldiers, and
the signal for battle was given. Nor were Arminius and the other German
chiefs slow to call their respective clansmen to witness that &quot;these
Romans were the most cowardly fugitives out of Varus&apos;s army, men who
rather than endure war had taken to mutiny. Half of them have their
backs covered with wounds; half are once again exposing limbs battered
by waves and storms to a foe full of fury, and to hostile deities,
with no hope of advantage. They have, in fact, had recourse to a fleet
and to a trackless ocean, that their coming might be unopposed, their
flight unpursued. But when once they have joined conflict with us,
the help of winds or oars will be unavailing to the vanquished. Remember
only their greed, their cruelty, their pride. Is anything left for
us but to retain our freedom or to die before we are enslaved?

When they were thus roused and were demanding battle, their chiefs
led them down into a plain named Idistavisus. It winds between the
Visurgis and a hill range, its breadth varying as the river banks
recede or the spurs of the hills project on it. In their rear rose
a forest, with the branches rising to a great height, while there
were clear spaces between the trunks. The barbarian army occupied
the plain and the outskirts of the wood. The Cherusci were posted
by themselves on the high ground, so as to rush down on the Romans
during the battle. 

Our army advanced in the following order. The auxiliary Gauls and
Germans were in the van, then the foot-archers, after them, four legions
and Caesar himself with two praetorian cohorts and some picked cavalry.
Next came as many other legions, and light-armed troops with horse-bowmen,
and the remaining cohorts of the allies. The men were quite ready
and prepared to form in line of battle according to their marching
order. 

Caesar, as soon as he saw the Cheruscan bands which in their impetuous
spirit had rushed to the attack, ordered the finest of his cavalry
to charge them in flank, Stertinius with the other squadrons to make
a detour and fall on their rear, promising himself to come up in good
time. Meanwhile there was a most encouraging augury. Eight eagles,
seen to fly towards the woods and to enter them, caught the general&apos;s
eye. &quot;Go,&quot; he exclaimed, &quot;follow the Roman birds, the true deities
of our legions.&quot; At the same moment the infantry charged, and the
cavalry which had been sent on in advance dashed on the rear and the
flanks. And, strange to relate, two columns of the enemy fled in opposite
directions, that, which had occupied the wood, rushing into the open,
those who had been drawn up on the plains, into the wood. The Cherusci,
who were between them, were dislodged from the hills, while Arminius,
conspicuous among them by gesture, voice, and a wound he had received,
kept up the fight. He had thrown himself on our archers and was on
the point of breaking through them, when the cohorts of the Raeti,
Vendelici, and Gauls faced his attack. By a strong bodily effort,
however, and a furious rush of his horse, he made his way through
them, having smeared his face with his blood, that he might not be
known. Some have said that he was recognised by Chauci serving among
the Roman auxiliaries, who let him go. 

Inguiomerus owed his escape to similar courage or treachery. The rest
were cut down in every direction. Many in attempting to swim across
the Visurgis were overwhelmed under a storm of missiles or by the
force of the current, lastly, by the rush of fugitives and the falling
in of the banks. Some in their ignominious flight climbed the tops
of trees, and as they were hiding themselves in the boughs, archers
were brought up and they were shot for sport. Others were dashed to
the ground by the felling of the trees. 

It was a great victory and without bloodshed to us. From nine in the
morning to nightfall the enemy were slaughtered, and ten miles were
covered with arms and dead bodies, while there were found amid the
plunder the chains which the Germans had brought with them for the
Romans, as though the issue were certain. The soldiers on the battle
field hailed Tiberius as Imperator, and raised a mound on which arms
were piled in the style of a trophy, with the names of the conquered
tribes inscribed beneath them. 

That sight caused keener grief and rage among the Germans than their
wounds, their mourning, and their losses. Those who but now were preparing
to quit their settlements and to retreat to the further side of the
Elbe, longed for battle and flew to arms. Common people and chiefs,
young and old, rushed on the Roman army, and spread disorder. At last
they chose a spot closed in by a river and by forests, within which
was a narrow swampy plain. The woods too were surrounded by a bottomless
morass, only on one side of it the Angrivarii had raised a broad earthwork,
as a boundary between themselves and the Cherusci. Here their infantry
was ranged. Their cavalry they concealed in neighbouring woods, so
as to be on the legions&apos; rear, as soon as they entered the forest.

All this was known to Caesar. He was acquainted with their plans,
their positions, with what met the eye, and what was hidden, and he
prepared to turn the enemy&apos;s stratagems to their own destruction.
To Seius Tubero, his chief officer, he assigned the cavalry and the
plain. His infantry he drew up so that part might advance on level
ground into the forest, and part clamber up the earthwork which confronted
them. He charged himself with what was the specially difficult operation,
leaving the rest to his officers. Those who had the level ground easily
forced a passage. Those who had to assault the earthwork encountered
heavy blows from above, as if they were scaling a wall. The general
saw how unequal this close fighting was, and having withdrawn his
legions to a little distance, ordered the slingers and artillerymen
to discharge a volley of missiles and scatter the enemy. Spears were
hurled from the engines, and the more conspicuous were the defenders
of the position, the more the wounds with which they were driven from
it. Caesar with some praetorian cohorts was the first, after the storming
of the ramparts, to dash into the woods. There they fought at close
quarters. A morass was in the enemy&apos;s rear, and the Romans were hemmed
in by the river or by the hills. Both were in a desperate plight from
their position; valour was their only hope, victory their only safety.

The Germans were equally brave, but they were beaten by the nature
of the fighting and of the weapons, for their vast host in so confined
a space could neither thrust out nor recover their immense lances,
or avail themselves of their nimble movements and lithe frames, forced
as they were to a close engagement. Our soldiers, on the other hand,
with their shields pressed to their breasts, and their hands grasping
their sword-hilts, struck at the huge limbs and exposed faces of the
barbarians, cutting a passage through the slaughtered enemy, for Arminius
was now less active, either from incessant perils, or because he was
partially disabled by his recent wound. As for Inguiomerus, who flew
hither and thither over the battlefield, it was fortune rather than
courage which forsook him. Germanicus, too, that he might be the better
known, took his helmet off his head and begged his men to follow up
the slaughter, as they wanted not prisoners, and the utter destruction
of the nation would be the only conclusion of the war. And now, late
in the day, he withdrew one of his legions from the field, to intrench
a camp, while the rest till nightfall glutted themselves with the
enemy&apos;s blood. Our cavalry fought with indecisive success.

Having publicly praised his victorious troops, Caesar raised a pile
of arms with the proud inscription, &quot;The army of Tiberius Caesar,
after thoroughly conquering the tribes between the Rhine and the Elbe,
has dedicated this monument to Mars, Jupiter, and Augustus.&quot; He added
nothing about himself, fearing jealousy, or thinking that the conciousness
of the achievement was enough. Next he charged Stertinius with making
war on the Angrivarii, but they hastened to surrender. And, as suppliants,
by refusing nothing, they obtained a full pardon. 

When, however, summer was at its height some of the legions were sent
back overland into winter-quarters, but most of them Caesar put on
board the fleet and brought down the river Amisia to the ocean. At
first the calm waters merely sounded with the oars of a thousand vessels
or were ruffled by the sailing ships. Soon, a hailstorm bursting from
a black mass of clouds, while the waves rolled hither and thither
under tempestuous gales from every quarter, rendered clear sight impossible,
and the steering difficult, while our soldiers, terrorstricken and
without any experience of disasters on the sea, by embarrassing the
sailors or giving them clumsy aid, neutralized the services of the
skilled crews. After a while, wind and wave shifted wholly to the
south, and from the hilly lands and deep rivers of Germany came with
a huge line of rolling clouds, a strong blast, all the more frightful
from the frozen north which was so near to them, and instantly caught
and drove the ships hither and thither into the open ocean, or on
islands with steep cliffs or which hidden shoals made perilous. these
they just escaped, with difficulty, and when the tide changed and
bore them the same way as the wind, they could not hold to their anchors
or bale out the water which rushed in upon them. Horses, beasts of
burden, baggage, were thrown overboard, in order to lighten the hulls
which leaked copiously through their sides, while the waves too dashed
over them. 

As the ocean is stormier than all other seas, and as Germany is conspicuous
for the terrors of its climate, so in novelty and extent did this
disaster transcend every other, for all around were hostile coasts,
or an expanse so vast and deep that it is thought to be the remotest
shoreless sea. Some of the vessels were swallowed up; many were wrecked
on distant islands, and the soldiers, finding there no form of human
life, perished of hunger, except some who supported existence on carcases
of horses washed on the same shores. Germanicus&apos;s trireme alone reached
the country of the Chauci. Day and night, on those rocks and promontories
he would incessantly exclaim that he was himself responsible for this
awful ruin, and friends scarce restrained him from seeking death in
the same sea. 

At last, as the tide ebbed and the wind blew favourably, the shattered
vessels with but few rowers, or clothing spread as sails, some towed
by the more powerful, returned, and Germanicus, having speedily repaired
them, sent them to search the islands. Many by that means were recovered.
The Angrivarii, who had lately been admitted to our alliance, restored
to us several had ransomed from the inland tribes. Some had been carried
to Britain and were sent back by the petty chiefs. Every one, as he
returned from some far-distant region, told of wonders, of violent
hurricanes, and unknown birds, of monsters of the sea, of forms half-human,
half beast-like, things they had really seen or in their terror believed.

Meanwhile the rumoured loss of the fleet stirred the Germans to hope
for war, as it did Caesar to hold them down. He ordered Caius Silius
with thirty thousand infantry and three thousand cavalry to march
against the Chatti. He himself, with a larger army, invaded the Marsi,
whose leader, Mallovendus, whom we had lately admitted to surrender,
pointed out a neighbouring wood, where, he said, an eagle of one of
Varus&apos;s legions was buried and guarded only by a small force. Immediately
troops were despatched to draw the enemy from his position by appearing
in his front, others, to hem in his rear and open the ground. Fortune
favoured both. So Germanicus, with increased energy, advanced into
the country, laying it waste, and utterly ruining a foe who dared
not encounter him, or who was instantly defeated wherever he resisted,
and, as we learnt from prisoners, was never more panic-stricken. The
Romans, they declared, were invincible, rising superior to all calamities;
for having thrown away a fleet, having lost their arms, after strewing
the shores with the carcases of horses and of men, they had rushed
to the attack with the same courage, with equal spirit, and, seemingly,
with augmented numbers. 

The soldiers were then led back into winter-quarters, rejoicing in
their hearts at having been compensated for their disasters at sea
by a successful expedition. They were helped too by Caesar&apos;s bounty,
which made good whatever loss any one declared he had suffered. It
was also regarded as a certainty that the enemy were wavering and
consulting on negotiations for peace, and that, with an additional
campaign next summer the war might be ended. Tiberius, however, in
repeated letters advised Germanicus to return for the triumph decreed
him. &quot;He had now had enough of success, enough of disaster. He had
fought victorious battles on a great scale; he should also remember
those losses which the winds and waves had inflicted, and which, though
due to no fault of the general, were still grievous and shocking.
He, Tiberius, had himself been sent nine times by Augustus into Germany,
and had done more by policy than by arms. By this means the submission
of the Sugambri had been secured, and the Suevi with their king Maroboduus
had been forced into peace. The Cherusci too and the other insurgent
tribes, since the vengeance of Rome had been satisfied, might be left
to their internal feuds.&quot; 

When Germanicus requested a year for the completion of his enterprise,
Tiberius put a severer pressure on his modesty by offering him a second
consulship, the functions of which he was to discharge in person.
He also added that if war must still be waged, he might as well leave
some materials for renown to his brother Drusus, who, as there was
then no other enemy, could win only in Germany the imperial title
and the triumphal laurel. Germanicus hesitated no longer, though he
saw that this was a pretence, and that he was hurried away through
jealousy from the glory he had already acquired. 

About the same time Libo Drusus, of the family of Scribonii, was accused
of revolutionary schemes. I will explain, somewhat minutely, the beginning,
progress, and end of this affair, since then first were originated
those practices which for so many years have eaten into the heart
of the State. Firmius Catus, a senator, an intimate friend of Libo&apos;s,
prompted the young man, who was thoughtless and an easy prey to delusions,
to resort to astrologers&apos; promises, magical rites, and interpreters
of dreams, dwelling ostentatiously on his great-grandfather Pompeius,
his aunt Scribonia, who had formerly been wife of Augustus, his imperial
cousins, his house crowded with ancestral busts, and urging him to
extravagance and debt, himself the companion of his profligacy and
desperate embarrassments, thereby to entangle him in all the more
proofs of guilt. 

As soon as he found enough witnesses, with some slaves who knew the
facts, he begged an audience of the emperor, after first indicating
the crime and the criminal through Flaccus Vescularius, a Roman knight,
who was more intimate with Tiberius than himself. Caesar, without
disregarding the information, declined an interview, for the communication,
he said, might be conveyed to him through the same messenger, Flaccus.
Meanwhile he conferred the praetorship on Libo and often invited him
to his table, showing no unfriendliness in his looks or anger in his
words (so thoroughly had he concealed his resentment); and he wished
to know all his saying and doings, though it was in his power to stop
them, till one Junius, who had been tampered with by Libo for the
purpose of evoking by incantations spirits of the dead, gave information
to Fulcinius Trio. Trio&apos;s ability was conspicuous among informers,
as well as his eagerness for an evil notoriety. He at once pounced
on the accused, went to the consuls, and demanded an inquiry before
the Senate. The Senators were summoned, with a special notice that
they must consult on a momentous and terrible matter. 

Libo meanwhile, in mourning apparel and accompanied by ladies of the
highest rank, went to house after house, entreating his relatives,
and imploring some eloquent voice to ward off his perils; which all
refused, on different pretexts, but from the same apprehension. On
the day the Senate met, jaded with fear and mental anguish, or, as
some have related, feigning illness, he was carried in a litter to
the doors of the Senate House, and leaning on his brother he raised
his hands and voice in supplication to Tiberius, who received him
with unmoved countenance. The emperor then read out the charges and
the accusers&apos; names, with such calmness as not to seem to soften or
aggravate the accusations. 

Besides Trio and Catus, Fonteius Agrippa and Caius Vibius were among
his accusers, and claimed with eager rivalry the privilege of conducting
the case for the prosecution, till Vibius, as they would not yield
one to the other, and Libo had entered without counsel, offered to
state the charges against him singly, and produced an extravagantly
absurd accusation, according to which Libo had consulted persons whether
he would have such wealth as to be able to cover the Appian road as
far as Brundisium with money. There were other questions of the same
sort, quite senseless and idle; if leniently regarded, pitiable. But
there was one paper in Libo&apos;s handwriting, so the prosecutor alleged,
with the names of Caesars and of Senators, to which marks were affixed
of dreadful or mysterious significance. When the accused denied this,
it was decided that his slaves who recognised the writing should be
examined by torture. As an ancient statute of the Senate forbade such
inquiry in a case affecting a master&apos;s life, Tiberius, with his cleverness
in devising new law, ordered Libo&apos;s slaves to be sold singly to the
State-agent, so that, forsooth, without an infringement of the Senate&apos;s
decree, Libo might be tried on their evidence. As a consequence, the
defendant asked an adjournment till next day, and having gone home
he charged his kinsman, Publius Quirinus, with his last prayer to
the emperor. 

The answer was that he should address himself to the Senate. Meanwhile
his house was surrounded with soldiers; they crowded noisily even
about the entrance, so that they could be heard and seen; when Libo,
whose anguish drove him from the very banquet he had prepared as his
last gratification, called for a minister of death, grasped the hands
of his slaves, and thrust a sword into them. In their confusion, as
they shrank back, they overturned the lamp on the table at his side,
and in the darkness, now to him the gloom of death, he aimed two blows
at a vital part. At the groans of the falling man his freedmen hurried
up, and the soldiers, seeing the bloody deed, stood aloof. Yet the
prosecution was continued in the Senate with the same persistency,
and Tiberius declared on oath that he would have interceded for his
life, guilty though he was, but for his hasty suicide. 

His property was divided among his accusers, and praetorships out
of the usual order were conferred on those who were of senators&apos; rank.
Cotta Messalinus then proposed that Libo&apos;s bust should not be carried
in the funeral procession of any of his descendants; and Cneius Lentulus,
that no Scribonius should assume the surname of Drusus. Days of public
thanksgiving were appointed on the suggestion of Pomponius Flaccus.
Offerings were given to Jupiter, Mars, and Concord, and the 13th day
of September, on which Libo had killed himself, was to be observed
as a festival, on the motion of Gallus Asinius, Papius Mutilus, and
Lucius Apronius. I have mentioned the proposals and sycophancy of
these men, in order to bring to light this old-standing evil in the
State. 

Decrees of the Senate were also passed to expel from Italy astrologers
and magicians. One of their number, Lucius Pituanius, was hurled from
the Rock. Another, Publius Marcius, was executed, according to ancient
custom, by the consuls outside the Esquiline Gate, after the trumpets
had been bidden to sound. 

On the next day of the Senate&apos;s meeting much was said against the
luxury of the country by Quintus Haterius, an ex-consul, and by Octavius
Fronto, an ex-praetor. It was decided that vessels of solid gold should
not be made for the serving of food, and that men should not disgrace
themselves with silken clothing from the East. Fronto went further,
and insisted on restrictions being put on plate, furniture, and household
establishments. It was indeed still usual with the Senators, when
it was their turn to vote, to suggest anything they thought for the
State&apos;s advantage. Gallus Asinius argued on the other side. &quot;With
the growth of the empire private wealth too,&quot; he said, &quot;had increased,
and there was nothing new in this, but it accorded with the fashions
of the earliest antiquity. Riches were one thing with the Fabricii,
quite another with the Scipios. The State was the standard of everything;
when it was poor, the homes of the citizens were humble; when it reached
such magnificence, private grandeur increased. In household establishments,
and plate, and in whatever was provided for use, there was neither
excess nor parsimony except in relation to the fortune of the possessor.
A distinction had been made in the assessments of Senators and knights,
not because they differed naturally, but that the superiority of the
one class in places in the theatre, in rank and in honour, might be
also maintained in everything else which insured mental repose and
bodily recreation, unless indeed men in the highest position were
to undergo more anxieties and more dangers, and to be at the same
time deprived of all solace under those anxieties and dangers.&quot; Gallus
gained a ready assent, under these specious phrases, by a confession
of failings with which his audience symphathised. And Tiberius too
had added that this was not a time for censorship, and that if there
were any declension in manners, a promoter of reform would not be
wanting. 

During this debate Lucius Piso, after exclaiming against the corruption
of the courts, the bribery of judges, the cruel threats of accusations
from hired orators, declared that he would depart and quit the capital,
and that he meant to live in some obscure and distant rural retreat.
At the same moment he rose to leave the Senate House. Tiberius was
much excited, and though he pacified Piso with gentle words, he also
strongly urged his relatives to stop his departure by their influence
or their entreaties. 

Soon afterwards this same Piso gave an equal proof of a fearless sense
of wrong by suing Urgulania, whom Augusta&apos;s friendship had raised
above the law. Neither did Urgulania obey the summons, for in defiance
of Piso she went in her litter to the emperor&apos;s house; nor did Piso
give way, though Augusta complained that she was insulted and her
majesty slighted. Tiberius, to win popularity by so humouring his
mother as to say that he would go to the praetor&apos;s court and support
Urgulania, went forth from the palace, having ordered soldiers to
follow him at a distance. He was seen, as the people thronged about
him, to wear a calm face, while he prolonged his time on the way with
various conversations, till at last when Piso&apos;s relatives tried in
vain to restrain him, Augusta directed the money which was claimed
to be handed to him. This ended the affair, and Piso, in consequence,
was not dishonoured, and the emperor rose in reputation. Urgulania&apos;s
influence, however, was so formidable to the State, that in a certain
cause which was tried by the Senate she would not condescend to appear
as a witness. The praetor was sent to question her at her own house,
although the Vestal virgins, according to ancient custom, were heard
in the courts, before judges, whenever they gave evidence.

I should say nothing of the adjournment of public business in this
year, if it were not worth while to notice the conflicting opinions
of Cneius Piso and Asinius Gallus on the subject. Piso, although the
emperor had said that he would be absent, held that all the more ought
the business to be transacted, that the State might have honour of
its Senate and knights being able to perform their duties in the sovereign&apos;s
absence. Gallus, as Piso had forestalled him in the display of freedom,
maintained that nothing was sufficiently impressive or suitable to
the majesty of the Roman people, unless done before Caesar and under
his very eyes, and that therefore the gathering from all Italy and
the influx from the provinces ought to be reserved for his presence.
Tiberius listened to this in silence, and the matter was debated on
both sides in a sharp controversy. The business, however, was adjourned.

A dispute then arose between Gallus and the emperor. Gallus proposed
that the elections of magistrates should be held every five years,
and that the commanders of the legions who before receiving a praetorship
discharged this military service should at once become praetorselect,
the emperor nominating twelve candidates every year. It was quite
evident that this motion had a deeper meaning and was an attempt to
explore the secrets of imperial policy. Tiberius, however, argued
as if his power would be thus increased. &quot;It would,&quot; he said, &quot;be
trying to his moderation to have to elect so many and to put off so
many. He scarcely avoided giving offence from year to year, even though
a candidate&apos;s rejection was solaced by the near prospect of office.
What hatred would be incurred from those whose election was deferred
for five years! How could he foresee through so long an interval what
would be a man&apos;s temper, or domestic relations, or estate? Men became
arrogant even with this annual appointment. What would happen if their
thoughts were fixed on promotion for five years? It was in fact a
multiplying of the magistrates five-fold, and a subversion of the
laws which had prescribed proper periods for the exercise of the candidate&apos;s
activity and the seeking or securing office. With this seemingly conciliatory
speech he retained the substance of power. 

He also increased the incomes of some of the Senators. Hence it was
the more surprising that he listened somewhat disdainfully to the
request of Marcus Hortalus, a youth of noble rank in conspicuous poverty.
He was the grandson of the orator Hortensius, and had been induced
by Augustus, on the strength of a gift of a million sesterces, to
marry and rear children, that one of our most illustrious families
might not become extinct. Accordingly, with his four sons standing
at the doors of the Senate House, the Senate then sitting in the palace,
when it was his turn to speak he began to address them as follows,
his eyes fixed now on the statue of Hortensius which stood among those
of the orators, now on that of Augustus:- &quot;Senators, these whose numbers
and boyish years you behold I have reared, not by my own choice, but
because the emperor advised me. At the same time, my ancestors deserved
to have descendants. For myself, not having been able in these altered
times to receive or acquire wealth or popular favour, or that eloquence
which has been the hereditary possession of our house, I was satisfied
if my narrow means were neither a disgrace to myself nor burden to
others. At the emperor&apos;s bidding I married. Behold the offspring and
progeny of a succession of consuls and dictators. Not to excite odium
do I recall such facts, but to win compassion. While you prosper,
Caesar, they will attain such promotion as you shall bestow. Meanwhile
save from penury the great-grandsons of Quintus Hortensius, the foster-children
of Augustus.&quot; 

The Senate&apos;s favourable bias was an incitement to Tiberius to offer
prompt opposition, which he did in nearly these words:- &quot;If all poor
men begin to come here and to beg money for their children, individuals
will never be satisfied, and the State will be bankrupt. Certainly
our ancestors did not grant the privilege of occasionally proposing
amendments or of suggesting, in our turn for speaking, something for
the general advantage in order that we might in this house increase
our private business and property, thereby bringing odium on the Senate
and on emperors whether they concede or refuse their bounty. In fact,
it is not a request, but an importunity, as utterly unreasonable as
it is unforeseen, for a senator, when the house has met on other matters,
to rise from his place and, pleading the number and age of his children,
put a pressure on the delicacy of the Senate, then transfer the same
constraint to myself, and, as it were, break open the exchequer, which,
if we exhaust it by improper favouritism, will have to be replenished
by crimes. Money was given you, Hortalus, by Augustus, but without
solicitation, and not on the condition of its being always given.
Otherwise industry will languish and idleness be encouraged, if a
man has nothing to fear, nothing to hope from himself, and every one,
in utter recklessness, will expect relief from others, thus becoming
useless to himself and a burden to me.&quot; 

These and like remarks, though listened to with assent by those who
make it a practice to eulogise everything coming from sovereigns,
both good and bad, were received by the majority in silence or with
suppressed murmurs. Tiberius perceived it, and having paused a while,
said that he had given Hortalus his answer, but that if the senators
thought it right, he would bestow two hundred thousand sesterces on
each of his children of the male sex. The others thanked him; Hortalus
said nothing, either from alarm or because even in his reduced fortunes
he clung to his hereditary nobility. Nor did Tiberius afterwards show
any pity, though the house of Hortensius sank into shameful poverty.

That same year the daring of a single slave, had it not been promptly
checked, would have ruined the State by discord and civil war. A servant
of Postumus Agrippa, Clemens by name, having ascertained that Augustus
was dead, formed a design beyond a slave&apos;s conception, of going to
the island of Planasia and seizing Agrippa by craft or force and bringing
him to the armies of Germany. The slowness of a merchant vessel thwarted
his bold venture. Meanwhile the murder of Agrippa had been perpetrated,
and then turning his thoughts to a greater and more hazardous enterprise,
he stole the ashes of the deceased, sailed to Cosa, a promontory of
Etruria, and there hid himself in obscure places till his hair and
beard were long. In age and figure he was not unlike his master. Then
through suitable emissaries who shared his secret, it was rumoured
that Agrippa was alive, first in whispered gossip, soon, as is usual
with forbidden topics, in vague talk which found its way to the credulous
ears of the most ignorant people or of restless and revolutionary
schemers. He himself went to the towns, as the day grew dark, without
letting himself be seen publicly or remaining long in the same places,
but, as he knew that truth gains strength by notoriety and time, falsehood
by precipitancy and vagueness, he would either withdraw himself from
publicity or else forestall it. 

It was rumoured meanwhile throughout Italy, and was believed at Rome,
that Agrippa had been saved by the blessing of Heaven. Already at
Ostia, where he had arrived, he was the centre of interest to a vast
concourse as well as to secret gatherings in the capital, while Tiberius
was distracted by the doubt whether he should crush this slave of
his by military force or allow time to dissipate a silly credulity.
Sometimes he thought that he must overlook nothing, sometimes that
he need not be afraid of everything, his mind fluctuating between
shame and terror. At last he entrusted the affair to Sallustius Crispus,
who chose two of his dependants (some say they were soldiers) and
urged them to go to him as pretended accomplices, offering money and
promising faithful companionship in danger. They did as they were
bidden; then, waiting for an unguarded hour of night, they took with
them a sufficient force, and having bound and gagged him, dragged
him to the palace. When Tiberius asked him how he had become Agrippa,
he is said to have replied, &quot;As you became Caesar.&quot; He could not be
forced to divulge his accomplices. Tiberius did not venture on a public
execution, but ordered him to be slain in a private part of the palace
and his body to be secretly removed. And although many of the emperor&apos;s
household and knights and senators were said to have supported him
with their wealth and helped him with their counsels, no inquiry was
made. 

At the close of the year was consecrated an arch near the temple of
Saturn to commemorate the recovery of the standards lost with Varus,
under the leadership of Germanicus and the auspices of Tiberius; a
temple of Fors Fortuna, by the Tiber, in the gardens which Caesar,
the dictator, bequeathed to the Roman people; a chapel to the Julian
family, and statues at Bovillae to the Divine Augustus. 

In the consulship of Caius Caecilius and Lucius Pomponius, Germanicus
Caesar, on the 26th day of May, celebrated his triumph over the Cherusci,
Chatti, and Angrivarii, and the other tribes which extend as far as
the Elbe. There were borne in procession spoils, prisoners, representations
of the mountains, the rivers and battles; and the war, seeing that
he had been forbidden to finish it, was taken as finished. The admiration
of the beholders was heightened by the striking comeliness of the
general and the chariot which bore his five children. Still, there
was a latent dread when they remembered how unfortunate in the case
of Drusus, his father, had been the favour of the crowd; how his uncle
Marcellus, regarded by the city populace with passionate enthusiasm,
had been snatched from them while yet a youth, and how short-lived
and ill-starred were the attachments of the Roman people.

Tiberius meanwhile in the name of Germanicus gave every one of the
city populace three hundred sesterces, and nominated himself his colleague
in the consulship. Still, failing to obtain credit for sincere affection,
he resolved to get the young prince out of the way, under pretence
of conferring distinction, and for this he invented reasons, or eagerly
fastened on such as chance presented. 

King Archelaus had been in possession of Cappadocia for fifty years,
and Tiberius hated him because he had not shown him any mark of respect
while he was at Rhodes. This neglect of Archelaus was not due to pride,
but was suggested by the intimate friends of Augustus, because, when
Caius Caesar was in his prime and had charge of the affairs of the
East, Tiberius&apos;s friendship was thought to be dangerous. When, after
the extinction of the family of the Caesars, Tiberius acquired the
empire, he enticed Archelaus by a letter from his mother, who without
concealing her son&apos;s displeasure promised mercy if he would come to
beg for it. Archelaus, either quite unsuspicious of treachery, or
dreading compulsion, should it be thought that he saw through it,
hastened to Rome. There he was received by a pitiless emperor, and
soon afterwards was arraigned before the Senate. In his anguish and
in the weariness of old age, and from being unused, as a king, to
equality, much less to degradation, not, certainly, from fear of the
charges fabricated against him, he ended his life, by his own act
or by a natural death. His kingdom was reduced into a province, and
Caesar declared that, with its revenues, the one per cent. tax could
be lightened, which, for the future, he fixed at one-half per cent.

During the same time, on the deaths of Antiochus and Philopator, kings
respectively of the Commageni and Cilicians, these nations became
excited, a majority desiring the Roman rule, some, that of their kings.
The provinces too of Syria and Judaea, exhausted by their burdens,
implored a reduction of tribute. 

Tiberius accordingly discussed these matters and the affairs of Armenia,
which I have already related, before the Senate. &quot;The commotions in
the East,&quot; he said, &quot;could be quieted only by the wisdom, of Germanicus;
own life was on the decline, and Drusus had not yet reached his maturity.&quot;
Thereupon, by a decree of the Senate, the provinces beyond sea were
entrusted to Germanicus, with greater powers wherever he went than
were given to those who obtained their provinces by lot or by the
emperor&apos;s appointment. 

Tiberius had however removed from Syria Creticus Silanus, who was
connected by a close tie with Germanicus, his daughter being betrothed
to Nero, the eldest of Germanicus&apos;s children. He appointed to it Cneius
Piso, a man of violent temper, without an idea of obedience, with
indeed a natural arrogance inherited from his father Piso, who in
the civil war supported with the most energetic aid against Caesar
the reviving faction in Africa, then embraced the cause of Brutus
and Cassius, and, when suffered to return, refrained from seeking
promotion till, he was actually solicited to accept a consulship offered
by Augustus. But beside the father&apos;s haughty temper there was also
the noble rank and wealth of his wife Plancina, to inflame his ambition.
He would hardly be the inferior of Tiberius, and as for Tiberius&apos;s
children, he looked down on them as far beneath him. He thought it
a certainty that he had been chosen to govern Syria in order to thwart
the aspirations of Germanicus. Some believed that he had even received
secret instructions from Tiberius, and it was beyond a question that
Augusta, with feminine jealousy, had suggested to Plancina calumnious
insinuations against Agrippina. For there was division and discord
in the court, with unexpressed partialities towards either Drusus
or Germanicus. Tiberius favoured Drusus, as his. son and born of his
own blood. As for Germanicus, his uncle&apos;s estrangement had increased
the affection which all others felt for him, and there was the fact
too that he had an advantage in the illustrious rank of his mother&apos;s
family, among whom he could point to his grandfather Marcus Antonius
and to his great-uncle Augustus. Drusus, on the other hand, had for
his great-grandfather a Roman knight, Pomponius Atticus, who seemed
to disgrace the ancestral images of the Claudii. Again, the consort
of Germanicus, Agrippina, in number of children and in character,
was superior to Livia, the wife of Drusus. Yet the brothers were singularly
united, and were wholly unaffected by the rivalries of their kinsfolk.

Soon afterwards Drusus was sent into Illyricum to be familiarised
with military service, and to win the goodwill of the army. Tiberius
also thought that it was better for the young prince, who was being
demoralised by the luxury of the capital, to serve in a camp, while
he felt himself the safer with both his sons in command of legions.
However, he made a pretext of the Suevi, who were imploring help against
the Cherusci. For when the Romans had departed and they were free
from the fear of an invader, these tribes, according to the custom
of the race, and then specially as rivals in fame, had turned their
arms against each other. The strength of the two nations, the valour
of their chiefs were equal. But the title of king rendered Maroboduus
hated among his countrymen, while Arminius was regarded with favour
as the champion of freedom. 

Thus it was not only the Cherusci and their allies, the old soldiers
of Arminius, who took up arms, but even the Semnones and Langobardi
from the kingdom of Maroboduus revolted to that chief. With this addition
he must have had an overwhelming superiority, had not Inguiomerus
deserted with a troop of his dependants to Maroboduus, simply for
the reason that the aged uncle scorned to obey a brother&apos;s youthful
son. The armies were drawn up, with equal confidence on both sides,
and there were not those desultory attacks or irregular bands, formerly
so common with the Germans. Prolonged warfare against us had accustomed
them to keep close to their standards, to have the support of reserves,
and to take the word of command from their generals. On this occasion
Arminius, who reviewed the whole field on horseback, as he rode up
to each band, boasted of regained freedom, of slaughtered legions,
of spoils and weapons wrested from the Romans, and still in the hands
of many of his men. As for Maroboduus, he called him a fugitive, who
had no experience of battles, who had sheltered himself in the recesses
of the Hercynian forest and then with presents and embassies sued
for a treaty; a traitor to his country, a satellite of Caesar, who
deserved to be driven out, with rage as furious as that with which
they had slain Quintilius Varus. They should simply remember their
many battles, the result of which, with the final expulsion of the
Romans, sufficiently showed who could claim the crowning success in
war. 

Nor did Maroboduus abstain from vaunts about himself or from revilings
of the foe. Clasping the hand of Inguiomerus, he protested &quot;that in
the person before them centred all the renown of the Cherusci, that
to his counsels was due whatever had ended successfully. Arminius
in his infatuation and ignorance was taking to himself the glory which
belonged to another, for he had treacherously surprised three unofficered
legions and a general who had not an idea of perfidy, to the great
hurt of Germany and to his own disgrace, since his wife and his son
were still enduring slavery. As for himself, he had been attacked
by twelve legions led by Tiberius, and had preserved untarnished the
glory of the Germans, and then on equal terms the armies had parted.
He was by no means sorry that they had the matter in their own hands,
whether they preferred to war with all their might against Rome, or
to accept a bloodless peace.&quot; 

To these words, which roused the two armies, was added the stimulus
of special motives of their own. The Cherusci and Langobardi were
fighting for ancient renown or newly-won freedom; the other side for
the increase of their dominion. Never at any time was the shock of
battle more tremendous or the issue more doubtful, as the right wings
of both armies were routed. Further fighting was expected, when Maroboduus
withdrew his camp to the hills. This was a sign of discomfiture. He
was gradually stripped of his strength by desertions, and, having
fled to the Marcomanni, he sent envoys to Tiberius with entreaties
for help. The answer was that he had no right to invoke the aid of
Roman arms against the Cherusci, when he had rendered no assistance
to the Romans in their conflict with the same enemy. Drusus, however,
was sent as I have related, to establish peace. 

That same year twelve famous cities of Asia fell by an earthquake
in the night, so that the destruction was all the more unforeseen
and fearful. Nor were there the means of escape usual in, such a disaster,
by rushing out into the open country, for there people were swallowed
up by the yawning earth. Vast mountains, it is said, collapsed; what
had been level ground seemed to be raised aloft, and fires blazed
out amid the ruin. The calamity fell most fatally on the inhabitants
of Sardis, and it attracted to them the largest share of sympathy.
The emperor promised ten million sesterces, and remitted for five
years all they paid to the exchequer or to the emperor&apos;s purse. Magnesia,
under Mount Sipylus, was considered to come next in loss and in need
of help. The people of Temnus, Philadelpheia, Aegae, Apollonis, the
Mostenians, and Hyrcanian Macedonians, as they were called, with the
towns of Hierocaesarea, Myrina, Cyme, and Tmolus, were; it was decided,
to be exempted from tribute for the same time, and some one was to
be sent from the Senate to examine their actual condition and to relieve
them. Marcus Aletus, one of the expraetors, was chosen, from a fear
that, as an exconsul was governor of Asia, there might be rivalry
between men of equal rank, and consequent embarrassment.

To his splendid public liberality the emperor added bounties no less
popular. The property of Aemilia Musa, a rich woman who died intestate,
on which the imperial treasury had a claim, he handed over to Aemilius
Lepidus, to whose family she appeared to belong; and the estate of
Patuleius, a wealthy Roman knight, though he was himself left in part
his heir, he gave to Marcus Servilius, whose name he discovered in
an earlier and unquestioned will. In both these cases he said that
noble rank ought to have the support of wealth. Nor did he accept
a legacy from any one unless he had earned it by friendship. Those
who were strangers to him, and who, because they were at enmity with
others, made the emperor their heir, he kept at a distance. While,
however, he relieved the honourable poverty of the virtuous, he expelled
from the Senate or suffered voluntarily to retire spendthrifts whose
vices had brought them to penury, like Vibidius Varro, Marius Nepos,
Appius Appianus, Cornelius Sulla, and Quintus Vitellius.

About the same time he dedicated some temples of the gods, which had
perished from age or from fire, and which Augustus had begun to restore.
These were temples to Liber, Libera, and Ceres, near the Great Circus,
which last Aulus Postumius, when Dictator, had vowed; a temple to
Flora in the same place, which had been built by Lucius and Marcus
Publicius, aediles, and a temple to Janus, which had been erected
in the vegetable market by Caius Duilius, who was the first to make
the Roman power successful at sea and to win a naval triumph over
the Carthaginians. A temple to Hope was consecrated by Germanicus;
this had been vowed by Atilius in that same war. 

Meantime the law of treason was gaining strength. Appuleia Varilia,
grand-niece of Augustus, was accused of treason by an informer for
having ridiculed the Divine Augustus, Tiberius, and Tiberius&apos;s mother,
in some insulting remarks, and for having been convicted of adultery,
allied though she was to Caesar&apos;s house. Adultery, it was thought,
was sufficiently guarded against by the Julian law. As to the charge
of treason, the emperor insisted that it should be taken separately,
and that she should be condemned if she had spoken irreverently of
Augustus. Her insinuations against himself he did not wish to be the
subject of judicial inquiry. When asked by the consul what he thought
of the unfavourable speeches she was accused of having uttered against
his mother, he said nothing. Afterwards, on the next day of the Senate&apos;s
meeting, he even begged in his mother&apos;s name that no words of any
kind spoken against her might in any case be treated as criminal.
He then acquitted Appuleia of treason. For her adultery, he deprecated
the severer penalty, and advised that she should be removed by her
kinsfolk, after the example of our forefathers, to more than two hundred
miles from Rome. Her paramour, Manlius, was forbidden to live in Italy
or Africa. 

A contest then arose about the election of a praetor in the room of
Vipstanus Gallus, whom death had removed. Germanicus and Drusus (for
they were still at Rome) supported Haterius Agrippa, a relative of
Germanicus. Many, on the other hand, endeavoured to make the number
of children weigh most in favour of the candidates. Tiberius rejoiced
to see a strife in the Senate between his sons and the law. Beyond
question the law was beaten, but not at once, and only by a few votes,
in the same way as laws were defeated even when they were in force.

In this same year a war broke out in Africa, where the enemy was led
by Tacfarinas. A Numidian by birth, he had served as an auxiliary
in the Roman camp, then becoming a deserter, he at first gathered
round him a roving band familiar with robbery, for plunder and for
rapine. After a while, he marshalled them like regular soldiers, under
standards and in troops, till at last he was regarded as the leader,
not of an undisciplined rabble, but of the Musulamian people. This
powerful tribe, bordering on the deserts of Africa, and even then
with none of the civilisation of cities, took up arms and drew their
Moorish neighbours into the war. These too had a leader, Mazippa.
The army was so divided that Tacfarinas kept the picked men who were
armed in Roman fashion within a camp, and familiarised them with a
commander&apos;s authority, while Mazippa, with light troops, spread around
him fire, slaughter, and consternation. They had forced the Ciniphii,
a far from contemptible tribe, into their cause, when Furius Camillus,
proconsul of Africa, united in one force a legion and all the regularly
enlisted allies, and, with an army insignificant indeed compared with
the multitude of the Numidians and Moors, marched against the enemy.
There was nothing however which he strove so much to avoid as their
eluding an engagement out of fear. It was by the hope of victory that
they were lured on only to be defeated. The legion was in the army&apos;s
centre; the light cohorts and two cavalry squadrons on its wings.
Nor did Tacfarinas refuse battle. The Numidians were routed, and after
a number of years the name of Furius won military renown. Since the
days of the famous deliverer of our city and his son Camillus, fame
as a general had fallen to the lot of other branches of the family,
and the man of whom I am now speaking was regarded as an inexperienced
soldier. All the more willingly did Tiberius commemorate his achievements
in the Senate, and the Senators voted him the ornaments of triumph,
an honour which Camillus, because of his unambitious life, enjoyed
without harm. 

In the following year Tiberius held his third, Germanicus his second,
consulship. Germanicus, however, entered on the office at Nicopolis,
a city of Achaia, whither he had arrived by the coast of Illyricum,
after having seen his brother Drusus, who was then in Dalmatia, and
endured a stormy voyage through the Adriatic and afterwards the Ionian
Sea. He accordingly devoted a few days to the repair of his fleet,
and, at the same time, in remembrance of his ancestors, he visited
the bay which the victory of Actium had made famous, the spoils consecrated
by Augustus, and the camp of Antonius. For, as I have said, Augustus
was his great-uncle, Antonius his grandfather, and vivid images of
disaster and success rose before him on the spot. Thence he went to
Athens, and there, as a concession to our treaty with an allied and
ancient city, he was attended only by a single lictor. The Greeks
welcomed him with the most elaborate honours, and brought forward
all the old deeds and sayings of their countrymen, to give additional
dignity to their flattery. 

Thence he directed his course to Euboea and crossed to Lesbos, where
Agrippina for the last time was confined and gave birth to Julia.
He then penetrated to the remoter parts of the province of Asia, visited
the Thracian cities, Perinthus and Byzantium; next, the narrow strait
of the Propontis and the entrance of the Pontus, from an anxious wish
to become acquainted with those ancient and celebrated localities.
He gave relief, as he went, to provinces which had been exhausted
by internal feuds or by the oppressions of governors. In his return
he attempted to see the sacred mysteries of the Samothracians, but
north winds which he encountered drove him aside from his course.
And so after visiting Ilium and surveying a scene venerable from the
vicissitudes of fortune and as the birth-place of our people, he coasted
back along Asia, and touched at Colophon, to consult the oracle of
the Clarian Apollo. There, it is not a woman, as at Delphi, but a
priest chosen from certain families, generally from Miletus, who ascertains
simply the number and the names of the applicants. Then descending
into a cave and drinking a draught from a secret spring, the man,
who is commonly ignorant of letters and of poetry, utters a response
in verse answering to the thoughts conceived in the mind of any inquirer.
It was said that he prophesied to Germanicus, in dark hints, as oracles
usually do, an early doom. 

Cneius Piso meanwhile, that he might the sooner enter on his design,
terrified the citizens of Athens by his tumultuous approach, and then
reviled them in a bitter speech, with indirect reflections on Germanicus,
who, he said, had derogated from the honour of the Roman name in having
treated with excessive courtesy, not the people of Athens, who indeed
had been exterminated by repeated disasters, but a miserable medley
of tribes. As for the men before him, they had been Mithridates&apos;s
allies against Sulla, allies of Antonius against the Divine Augustus.
He taunted them too with the past, with their ill-success against
the Macedonians, their violence to their own countrymen, for he had
his own special grudge against this city, because they would not spare
at his intercession one Theophilus whom the Areopagus had condemned
for forgery. Then, by sailing rapidly and by the shortest route through
the Cyclades, he overtook Germanicus at the island of Rhodes. The
prince was not ignorant of the slanders with which he had been assailed,
but his good nature was such that when a storm arose and drove Piso
on rocks, and his enemy&apos;s destruction could have been referred to
chance, he sent some triremes, by the help of which he might be rescued
from danger. But this did not soften Piso&apos;s heart. Scarcely allowing
a day&apos;s interval, he left Germanicus and hastened on in advance. When
he reached Syria and the legions, he began, by bribery and favouritism,
to encourage the lowest of the common soldiers, removing the old centurions
and the strict tribunes and assigning their places to creatures of
his own or to the vilest of the men, while he allowed idleness in
the camp, licentiousness in the towns, and the soldiers to roam through
the country and take their pleasure. He went such lengths in demoralizing
them, that he was spoken of in their vulgar talk as the father of
the legions. 

Plancina too, instead of keeping herself within the proper limits
of a woman, would be present at the evolutions of the cavalry and
the manoeuvres of the cohorts, and would fling insulting remarks at
Agrippina and Germanicus. Some even of the good soldiers were inclined
to a corrupt compliance, as a whispered rumour gained ground that
the emperor was not averse to these proceedings. Of all this Germanicus
was aware, but his most pressing anxiety was to be first in reaching
Armenia. 

This had been of old an unsettled country from the character of its
people and from its geographical position, bordering, as it does,
to a great extent on our provinces and stretching far away to Media.
It lies between two most mighty empires, and is very often at strife
with them, hating Rome and jealous of Parthia. It had at this time
no king, Vonones having been expelled, but the nation&apos;s likings inclined
towards Zeno, son of Polemon, king of Pontus, who from his earliest
infancy had imitated Armenian manners and customs, loving the chase,
the banquet, and all the popular pastimes of barbarians, and who had
thus bound to himself chiefs and people alike. Germanicus accordingly,
in the city of Artaxata, with the approval of the nobility, in the
presence of a vast multitude, placed the royal diadem on his head.
All paid him homage and saluted him as King Artaxias, which name they
gave him from the city. 

Cappadocia meanwhile, which had been reduced to the form of a province,
received as its governor Quintus Veranius. Some of the royal tributes
were diminished, to inspire hope of a gentler rule under Rome. Quintus
Servaeus was appointed to Commagene, then first put under a praetor&apos;s
jurisdiction. 

Successful as was this settlement of all the interests of our allies,
it gave Germanicus little joy because of the arrogance of Piso. Though
he had been ordered to march part of the legions into Armenia under
his own or his son&apos;s command, he had neglected to do either. At length
the two met at Cyrrhus, the winterquarters of the tenth legion, each
controlling his looks, Piso concealing his fears, Germanicus shunning
the semblance of menace. He was indeed, as I have said, a kind-hearted
man. But friends who knew well how to inflame a quarrel, exaggerated
what was true and added lies, alleging various charges against Piso,
Plancina, and their sons. 

At last, in the presence of a few intimate associates, Germanicus
addressed him in language such as suppressed resentment suggests,
to which Piso replied with haughty apologies. They parted in open
enmity. After this Piso was seldom seen at Caesar&apos;s tribunal, and
if he ever sat by him, it was with a sullen frown and a marked display
of opposition. He was even heard to say at a banquet given by the
king of the Nabataeans, when some golden crowns of great weight were
presented to Caesar and Agrippina and light ones to Piso and the rest,
that the entertainment was given to the son of a Roman emperor, not
of a Parthian king. At the same time he threw his crown on the ground,
with a long speech against luxury, which, though it angered Germanicus,
he still bore with patience. 

Meantime envoys arrived from Artabanus, king of the Parthians. He
had sent them to recall the memory of friendship and alliance, with
an assurance that he wished for a renewal of the emblems of concord,
and that he would in honour of Germanicus yield the point of advancing
to the bank of the Euphrates. He begged meanwhile that Vonones might
not be kept in Syria, where, by emissaries from an easy distance,
he might draw the chiefs of the tribes into civil strife. Germanicus&apos;
answer as to the alliance between Rome and Parthia was dignified;
as to the king&apos;s visit and the respect shown to himself, it was graceful
and modest. Vonones was removed to Pompeiopolis, a city on the coast
of Cilicia. This was not merely a concession to the request of Artabanus,
but was meant as an affront to Piso, who had a special liking for
Vonones, because of the many attentions and presents by which he had
won Plancina&apos;s favour. 

In the consulship of Marcus Silanus and Lucius Norbanus, Germanicus
set out for Egypt to study its antiquities. His ostensible motive
however was solicitude for the province. He reduced the price of corn
by opening the granaries, and adopted many practices pleasing to the
multitude. He would go about without soldiers, with sandalled feet,
and apparelled after the Greek fashion, in imitation of Publius Scipio,
who, it is said, habitually did the same in Sicily, even when the
war with Carthage was still raging. Tiberius having gently expressed
disapproval of his dress and manners, pronounced a very sharp censure
on his visit to Alexandria without the emperor&apos;s leave, contrary to
the regulations of Augustus. That prince, among other secrets of imperial
policy, had forbidden senators and Roman knights of the higher rank
to enter Egypt except by permission, and he had specially reserved
the country, from a fear that any one who held a province containing
the key of the land and of the sea, with ever so small a force against
the mightiest army, might distress Italy by famine. 

Germanicus, however, who had not yet learnt how much he was blamed
for his expedition, sailed up the Nile from the city of Canopus as
his starting-point. Spartans founded the place because Canopus, pilot
of one of their ships, had been buried there, when Menelaus on his
return to Greece was driven into a distant sea and to the shores of
Libya. Thence he went to the river&apos;s nearest mouth, dedicated to a
Hercules who, the natives say, was born in the country and was the
original hero, others, who afterwards showed like valour, having received
his name. Next he visited the vast ruins of ancient Thebes. There
yet remained on the towering piles Egyptian inscriptions, with a complete
account of the city&apos;s past grandeur. One of the aged priests, who
was desired to interpret the language of his country, related how
once there had dwelt in Thebes seven hundred thousand men of military
age, and how with such an army king Rhamses conquered Libya, Ethiopia,
Media, Persia, Bactria, and Scythia, and held under his sway the countries
inhabited by the Syrians, Armenians, and their neighbours, the Cappadocians,
from the Bithynian to the Lycian sea. There was also to be read what
tributes were imposed on these nations, the weight of silver and gold,
the tale of arms and horses, the gifts of ivory and of perfumes to
the temples, with the amount of grain and supplies furnished by each
people, a revenue as magnificent as is now exacted by the might of
Parthia or the power of Rome. 

But Germanicus also bestowed attention on other wonders. Chief of
these were the stone image of Memnon, which, when struck by the sun&apos;s
rays, gives out the sound of a human voice; the pyramids, rising up
like mountains amid almost impassable wastes of shifting sand, raised
by the emulation and vast wealth of kings; the lake hollowed out of
the earth to be a receptacle for the Nile&apos;s overflow; and elsewhere
the river&apos;s narrow channel and profound depth which no line of the
explorer can penetrate. He then came to Elephantine and Syene, formerly
the limits of the Roman empire, which now extends to the Red Sea.

While Germanicus was spending the summer in visits to several provinces,
Drusus gained no little glory by sowing discord among the Germans
and urging them to complete the destruction of the now broken power
of Maroboduus. Among the Gotones was a youth of noble birth, Catualda
by name, who had formerly been driven into exile by the might of Maroboduus,
and who now, when the king&apos;s fortunes were declining, ventured on
revenge. He entered the territory of the Marcomanni with a strong
force, and, having corruptly won over the nobles to join him, burst
into the palace and into an adjacent fortress. There he found the
long-accumulated plunder of the Suevi and camp followers and traders
from our provinces who had been attracted to an enemy&apos;s land, each
from their various homes, first by the freedom of commerce, next by
the desire of amassing wealth, finally by forgetfulness of their fatherland.

Maroboduus, now utterly deserted, had no resource but in the mercy
of Caesar. Having crossed the Danube where it flows by the province
of Noricum, he wrote to Tiberius, not like a fugitive or a suppliant,
but as one who remembered his past greatness. When as a most famous
king in former days he received invitations from many nations, he
had still, he said, preferred the friendship of Rome. Caesar replied
that he should have a safe and honourable home in Italy, if he would
remain there, or, if his interests required something different, he
might leave it under the same protection under which he had come.
But in the Senate he maintained that Philip had not been so formidable
to the Athenians, or Pyrrhus or Antiochus to the Roman people, as
was Maroboduus. The speech is extant, and in it he magnifies the man&apos;s
power, the ferocity of the tribes under his sway, his proximity to
Italy as a foe, finally his own measures for his overthrow. The result
was that Maroboduus was kept at Ravenna, where his possible return
was a menace to the Suevi, should they ever disdain obedience. But
he never left Italy for eighteen years, living to old age and losing
much of his renown through an excessive clinging to life.

Catualda had a like downfall and no better refuge. Driven out soon
afterwards by the overwhelming strength of the Hermundusi led by Vibilius,
he was received and sent to Forum Julii, a colony of Narbonensian
Gaul. The barbarians who followed the two kings, lest they might disturb
the peace of the provinces by mingling with the population, were settled
beyond the Danube between the rivers Marus and Cusus, under a king,
Vannius, of the nation of the Quadi. 

Tidings having also arrived of Artaxias being made king of Armenia
by Germanicus, the Senate decreed that both he and Drusus should enter
the city with an ovation. Arches too were raised round the sides of
the temple of Mars the Avenger, with statues of the two Caesars. Tiberius
was the more delighted at having established peace by wise policy
than if he had finished a war by battle. And so next he planned a
crafty scheme against Rhescuporis, king of Thrace. That entire country
had been in the possession of Rhoemetalces, after whose death Augustus
assigned half to the king&apos;s brother Rhescuporis, half to his son Cotys.
In this division the cultivated lands, the towns, and what bordered
on Greek territories, fell to Cotys; the wild and barbarous portion,
with enemies on its frontier, to Rhescuporis. The kings too themselves
differed, Cotys having a gentle and kindly temper, the other a fierce
and ambitious spirit, which could not brook a partner. Still at first
they lived in a hollow friendship, but soon Rhescuporis overstepped
his bounds and appropriated to himself what had been given to Cotys,
using force when he was resisted, though somewhat timidly under Augustus,
who having created both kingdoms would, he feared, avenge any contempt
of his arrangement. When however he heard of the change of emperor,
he let loose bands of freebooters and razed the fortresses, as a provocation
to war. 

Nothing made Tiberius so uneasy as an apprehension of the disturbance
of any settlement. He commissioned a centurion to tell the kings not
to decide their dispute by arms. Cotys at once dismissed the forces
which he had prepared. Rhescuporis, with assumed modesty, asked for
a place of meeting where, he said, they might settle their differences
by an interview. There was little hesitation in fixing on a time,
a place, finally on terms, as every point was mutually conceded and
accepted, by the one out of good nature, by the other with a treacherous
intent. Rhescuporis, to ratify the treaty, as he said, further proposed
a banquet; and when their mirth had been prolonged far into the night,
and Cotys amid the feasting and the wine was unsuspicious of danger,
he loaded him with chains, though he appealed, on perceiving the perfidy,
to the sacred character of a king, to the gods of their common house,
and to the hospitable board. Having possessed himself of all Thrace,
he wrote word to Tiberius that a plot had been formed against him,
and that he had forestalled the plotter. Meanwhile, under pretext
of a war against the Bastarnian and Scythian tribes, he was strengthening
himself with fresh forces of infantry and cavalry. 

He received a conciliatory answer. If there was no treachery in his
conduct, he could rely on his innocence, but neither the emperor nor
the Senate would decide on the right or wrong of his cause without
hearing it. He was therefore to surrender Cotys, come in person transfer
from himself the odium of the charge. 

This letter Latinius Pandus, propraetor of Moesia, sent to Thrace,
with soldiers to whose custody Cotys was to be delivered. Rhescuporis,
hesitating between fear and rage, preferred to be charged with an
accomplished rather than with an attempted crime. He ordered Cotys
to be murdered and falsely represented his death as self-inflicted.
Still the emperor did not change the policy which he had once for
all adopted. On the death of Pandus, whom Rhescuporis accused of being
his personal enemy, he appointed to the government of Moesia Pomponius
Flaccus, a veteran soldier, specially because of his close intimacy
with the king and his consequent ability to entrap him. 

Flaccus on arriving in Thrace induced the king by great promises,
though he hesitated and thought of his guilty deeds, to enter the
Roman lines. He then surrounded him with a strong force under pretence
of showing him honour, and the tribunes and centurions, by counsel,
by persuasion, and by a more undisguised captivity the further he
went, brought him, aware at last of his desperate plight, to Rome.
He was accused before the Senate by the wife of Cotys, and was condemned
to be kept a prisoner far away from his kingdom. Thrace was divided
between his son Rhoemetalces, who, it was proved, had opposed his
father&apos;s designs, and the sons of Cotys. As these were still minors,
Trebellienus Rufus, an expraetor, was appointed to govern the kingdom
in the meanwhile, after the precedent of our ancestors who sent Marcus
Lepidus into Egypt as guardian to Ptolemy&apos;s children. Rhescuporis
was removed to Alexandria, and there attempting or falsely charged
with attempting escape, was put to death. 

About the same time, Vonones, who, as I have related, had been banished
to Cilicia, endeavoured by bribing his guards to escape into Armenia,
thence to Albania and Heniochia, and to his kinsman, the king of Scythia.
Quitting the sea-coast on the pretence of a hunting expedition, he
struck into trackless forests, and was soon borne by his swift steed
to the river Pyramus, the bridges over which had been broken down
by the natives as soon as they heard of the king&apos;s escape. Nor was
there a ford by which it could be crossed. And so on the river&apos;s bank
he was put in chains by Vibius Fronto, an officer of cavalry; and
then Remmius, an enrolled pensioner, who had previously been entrusted
with the king&apos;s custody, in pretended rage, pierced him with his sword.
Hence there was more ground for believing that the man, conscious
of guilty complicity and fearing accusation, had slain Vonones.

Germanicus meanwhile, as he was returning from Egypt, found that all
his directions to the legions and to the various cities had been repealed
or reversed. This led to grievous insults on Piso, while he as savagely
assailed the prince. Piso then resolved to quit Syria. Soon he was
detained there by the failing health of Germanicus, but when he heard
of his recovery, while people were paying the vows they had offered
for his safety, he went attended by his lictors, drove away the victims
placed by the altars with all the preparations for sacrifice, and
the festal gathering of the populace of Antioch. Then he left for
Seleucia and awaited the result of the illness which had again attacked
Germanicus. The terrible intensity of the malady was increased by
the belief that he had been poisoned by Piso. And certainly there
were found hidden in the floor and in the walls disinterred remains
of human bodies, incantations and spells, and the name of Germanicus
inscribed on leaden tablets, half-burnt cinders smeared with blood,
and other horrors by which in popular belief souls are devoted so
the infernal deities. Piso too was accused of sending emissaries to
note curiously every unfavourable symptom of the illness.

Germanicus heard of all this with anger, no less than with fear. &quot;If
my doors,&quot; he said, &quot;are to be besieged, if I must gasp out my last
breath under my enemies&apos; eyes, what will then be the lot of my most
unhappy wife, of my infant children? Poisoning seems tedious; he is
in eager haste to have the sole control of the province and the legions.
But Germanicus is not yet fallen so low, nor will the murderer long
retain the reward of the fatal deed.&quot; 

He then addressed a letter to Piso, renouncing his friendship, and,
as many also state, ordered him to quit the province. Piso without
further delay weighed anchor, slackening his course that he might
not have a long way to return should Germanicus&apos; death leave Syria
open to him. 

For a brief space the prince&apos;s hopes rose; then his frame became exhausted,
and, as his end drew near, he spoke as follows to the friends by his
side:- 

&quot;Were I succumbing to nature, I should have just ground of complaint
even against the gods for thus tearing me away in my youth by an untimely
death from parents, children, country. Now, cut off by the wickedness
of Piso and Plancina, I leave to your hearts my last entreaties. Describe
to my father and brother, torn by what persecutions, entangled by
what plots, I have ended by the worst of deaths the most miserable
of lives. If any were touched by my bright prospects, by ties of blood,
or even by envy towards me while I lived, they will weep that the
once prosperous survivor of so many wars has perished by a woman&apos;s
treachery. You will have the opportunity of complaint before the Senate,
of an appeal to the laws. It is not the chief duty of friends to follow
the dead with unprofitable laments, but to remember his wishes, to
fulfil his commands. Tears for Germanicus even strangers will shed;
vengeance must come from you, if you loved the man more than his fortune.
Show the people of Rome her who is the granddaughter of the Divine
Augustus, as well as my consort; set before them my six children.
Sympathy will be on the side of the accusers, and to those who screen
themselves under infamous orders belief or pardon will be refused.&quot;

His friends clasped the dying man&apos;s right hand, and swore that they
would sooner lose life than revenge. 

He then turned to his wife and implored her by the memory of her husband
and by their common offspring to lay aside her high spirit, to submit
herself to the cruel blows of fortune, and not, when she returned
to Rome, to enrage by political rivalry those who were stronger than
herself. This was said openly; other words were whispered, pointing,
it was supposed, to his fears from Tiberius. Soon afterwards he expired,
to the intense sorrow of the province and of the neighbouring peoples.
Foreign nations and kings grieved over him, so great was his courtesy
to allies, his humanity to enemies. He inspired reverence alike by
look and voice, and while he maintained the greatness and dignity
of the highest rank, he had escaped the hatred that waits on arrogance.

His funeral, though it lacked the family statues and procession, was
honoured by panegyrics and a commemoration of his virtues. Some there
were who, as they thought of his beauty, his age, and the manner of
his death, the vicinity too of the country where he died, likened
his end to that of Alexander the Great. Both had a graceful person
and were of noble birth; neither had much exceeded thirty years of
age, and both fell by the treachery of their own people in strange
lands. But Germanicus was gracious to his friends, temperate in his
pleasures, the husband of one wife, with only legitimate children.
He was too no less a warrior, though rashness he had none, and, though
after having cowed Germany by his many victories, he was hindered
from crushing it into subjection. Had he had the sole control of affairs,
had he possessed the power and title of a king, he would have attained
military glory as much more easily as he had excelled Alexander in
clemency, in self-restraint, and in all other virtues. 

As to the body which, before it was burnt, lay bare in the forum at
Antioch, its destined place of burial, it is doubtful whether it exhibited
the marks of poisoning. For men according as they pitied Germanicus
and were prepossessed with suspicion or were biased by partiality
towards Piso, gave conflicting accounts. 

Then followed a deliberation among the generals and other senators
present about the appointment of a governor to Syria. The contest
was slight among all but Vibius Marsus and Cneius Sentius, between
whom there was a long dispute. Finally Marsus yielded to Sentius as
an older and keener competitor. Sentius at once sent to Rome a woman
infamous for poisonings in the province and a special favourite of
Plancina, Martina by name, on the demand of Vitellius and Veranius
and others, who were preparing the charges and the indictment as if
a prosecution had already been commenced. 

Agrippina meantime, worn out though she was with sorrow and bodily
weakness, yet still impatient of everything which might delay her
vengeance, embarked with the ashes of Germanicus and with her children,
pitied by all. Here indeed was a woman of the highest nobility, and
but lately because of her splendid union wont to be seen amid an admiring
and sympathizing throng, now bearing in her bosom the mournful relics
of death, with an uncertain hope of revenge, with apprehensions for
herself, repeatedly at fortune&apos;s mercy by reason of the ill-starred
fruitfulness of her marriage. Piso was at the island of Coos when
tidings reached him that Germanicus was dead. He received the news
with extravagant joy, slew victims, visited the temples, with no moderation
in his transports; while Plancina&apos;s insolence increased, and she then
for the first time exchanged for the gayest attire the mourning she
had worn for her lost sister. 

Centurions streamed in, and hinted to Piso that he had the sympathy
of the legions at his command. &quot;Go back,&quot; they said, &quot;to the province
which has not been rightfully taken from you, and is still vacant.&quot;
While he deliberated what he was to do, his son, Marcus Piso, advised
speedy return to Rome. &quot;As yet,&quot; he said, &quot;you have not contracted
any inexpiable guilt, and you need not dread feeble suspicions or
vague rumours. Your strife with Germanicus deserved hatred perhaps,
but not punishment, and by your having been deprived of the province,
your enemies have been fully satisfied. But if you return, should
Sentius resist you, civil war is begun, and you will not retain on
your side the centurions and soldiers, who are powerfully swayed by
the yet recent memory of their general and by a deep-rooted affection
for the Caesars.&quot; 

Against this view Domitius Celer, one of Piso&apos;s intimate friends,
argued that he ought to profit by the opportunity. &quot;It was Piso, not
Sentius, who had been appointed to Syria. It was to Piso that the
symbols of power and a praetor&apos;s jurisdiction and the legions had
been given. In case of a hostile menace, who would more rightfully
confront it by arms than the man who had received the authority and
special commission of a governor? And as for rumours, it is best to
leave time in which they may die away. Often the innocent cannot stand
against the first burst of unpopularity. But if Piso possesses himself
of the army, and increases his resources, much which cannot be foreseen
will haply turn out in his favour. Are we hastening to reach Italy
along with the ashes of Germanicus, that, unheard and undefended,
you may be hurried to ruin by the wailings of Agrippina and the first
gossip of an ignorant mob? You have on your side the complicity of
Augusta and the emperor&apos;s favour, though in secret, and none mourn
more ostentatiously over the death of Germanicus than those who most
rejoice at it.&quot; 

Without much difficulty Piso, who was ever ready for violent action,
was led into this view. He sent a letter to Tiberius accusing Germanicus
of luxury and arrogance, and asserting that, having been driven away
to make room for revolution, he had resumed the command of the army
in the same loyal spirit in which he had before held it. At the same
time he put Domitius on board a trireme, with an order to avoid the
coast and to push on to Syria through the open sea away from the islands.
He formed into regular companies the deserters who flocked to him,
armed the camp-followers, crossed with his ships to the mainland,
intercepted a detachment of new levies on their way to Syria, and
wrote word to the petty kings of Cilicia that they were to help him
with auxiliaries, the young Piso actively assisting in all the business
of war, though he had advised against undertaking it. 

And so they coasted along Lycia and Pamphylia, and on meeting the
fleet which conveyed Agrippina, both sides in hot anger at first armed
for battle, and then in mutual fear confined themselves to revilings,
Marsus Vibius telling Piso that he was to go to Rome to defend himself.
Piso mockingly replied that he would be there as soon as the praetor
who had to try poisoning cases had fixed a day for the accused and
his prosecutors. 

Meanwhile Domitius having landed at Laodicea, a city of Syria, as
he was on his way to the winter-quarters of the sixth legion, which
was, he believed, particularly open to revolutionary schemes, was
anticipated by its commander Pacuvius. Of this Sentius informed Piso
in a letter, and warned him not to disturb the armies by agents of
corruption or the province by war. He gathered round him all whom
he knew to cherish the memory of Germanicus, and to be opposed to
his enemies, dwelling repeatedly on the greatness of the general,
with hints that the State was being threatened with an armed attack,
and he put himself at the head of a strong force, prepared for battle.

Piso, too, though his first attempts were unsuccessful, did not omit
the safest precautions under present circumstances, but occupied a
very strongly fortified position in Cilicia, named, Celenderis. He
had raised to the strength of a legion the Cilician auxiliaries which
the petty kings had sent, by mixing with them some deserters, and
the lately intercepted recruits with his own and Plancina&apos;s slaves.
And he protested that he, though Caesar&apos;s legate, was kept out of
the province which Caesar had given him, not by the legions (for he
had come at their invitation) but by Sentius, who was veiling private
animosity under lying charges. &quot;Only,&quot; he said, &quot;stand in battle array,
and the soldiers will not fight when they see that Piso whom they
themselves once called &apos;father,&apos; is the stronger, if right is to decide;
if arms, is far from powerless.&quot; 

He then deployed his companies before the lines of the fortress on
a high and precipitous hill, with the sea surrounding him on every
other side. Against him were the veteran troops drawn up in ranks
and with reserves, a formidable soldiery on one side, a formidable
position on the other. But his men had neither heart nor hope, and
only rustic weapons, extemporised for sudden use. When they came to
fighting, the result was doubtful only while the Roman cohorts were
struggling up to level ground; then, the Cilicians turned their backs
and shut themselves up within the fortress. 

Meanwhile Piso vainly attempted an attack on the fleet which waited
at a distance; he then went back, and as he stood before the walls,
now smiting his breast, now calling on individual soldiers by name,
and luring them on by rewards, sought to excite a mutiny. He had so
far roused them that a standard bearer of the sixth legion went over
to him with his standard. Thereupon Sentius ordered the horns and
trumpets to be sounded, the rampart to be assaulted, the scaling ladders
to be raised, all the bravest men to mount on them, while others were
to discharge from the engines spears, stones, and brands. At last
Piso&apos;s obstinacy was overcome, and he begged that he might remain
in the fortress on surrendering his arms, while the emperor was being
consulted about the appointment of a governor to Syria. The proposed
terms were refused, and all that was granted him were some ships and
a safe return to Rome. 

There meantime, when the illness of Germanicus was universally known,
and all news, coming, as it did, from a distance, exaggerated the
danger, there was grief and indignation. There was too an outburst
of complaint. &quot;Of course this was the meaning,&quot; they said, &quot;of banishing
him to the ends of the earth, of giving Piso the province; this was
the drift of Augusta&apos;s secret interviews with Plancina. What elderly
men had said of Drusus was perfectly true, that rulers disliked a
citizen-like temper in their sons, and the young princes had been
put out of the way because they had the idea of comprehending in a
restored era of freedom the Roman people under equal laws.&quot;

This popular talk was so stimulated by the news of Germanicus&apos;s death
that even before the magistrate&apos;s proclamation or the Senate&apos;s resolution,
there was a voluntary suspension of business, the public courts were
deserted, and private houses closed. Everywhere there was a silence
broken only by groans; nothing was arranged for mere effect. And though
they refrained not from the emblems of the mourner, they sorrowed
yet the more deeply in their hearts. 

It chanced that some merchants who left Syria while Germanicus was
still alive, brought more cheering tidings about his health. These
were instantly believed, instantly published. Every one passed on
to others whom he met the intelligence, ill-authenticated as it was,
and they again to many more, with joyous exaggeration. They ran to
and fro through the city and broke open the doors of the temples.
Night assisted their credulity, and amid the darkness confident assertion
was comparatively easy. Nor did Tiberius check the false reports till
by lapse of time they died away. 

And so the people grieved the more bitterly as though Germanicus was
again lost to them. New honours were devised and decreed, as men were
inspired by affection for him or by genius. His name was to be celebrated
in the song of the Salii; chairs of state with oaken garlands over
them were to be set up in the places assigned to the priesthood of
the Augustales; his image in ivory was to head the procession in the
games of the circus; no flamen or augur, except from the Julian family,
was to be chosen in the room of Germanicus. Triumphal arches were
erected at Rome, on the banks of the Rhine, and on mount Amanus in
Syria, with an inscription recording his achievements, and how he
had died in the public service. A cenotaph was raised at Antioch,
where the body was burnt, a lofty mound at Epidaphna, where he had
ended his life. The number of his statues, or of the places in which
they were honoured, could not easily be computed. When a golden shield
of remarkable size was voted him as a leader among orators, Tiberius
declared that he would dedicate to him one of the usual kind, similar
to the rest, for in eloquence, he said, there was no distinction of
rank, and it was a sufficient glory for him to be classed among ancient
writers. The knights called the seats in the theatre known as &quot;the
juniors,&quot; Germanicus&apos;s benches, and arranged that their squadrons
were to ride in procession behind his effigy on the fifteenth of July.
Many of these honours still remain; some were at once dropped, or
became obsolete with time. 

While men&apos;s sorrow was yet fresh, Germanicus&apos;s sister Livia, who was
married to Drusus, gave birth to twin sons. This, as a rare event,
causing joy even in humble homes, so delighted the emperor that he
did not refrain from boasting before the senators that to no Roman
of the same rank had twin offspring ever before been born. In fact,
he would turn to his own glory every incident, however casual. But
at such a time, even this brought grief to the people, who thought
that the increase of Drusus&apos;s family still further depressed the house
of Germanicus. 

That same year the profligacy of women was checked by stringent enactments,
and it was provided that no woman whose grandfather, father, or husband
had been a Roman knight should get money by prostitution. Vistilia,
born of a praetorian family, had actually published her name with
this object on the aedile&apos;s list, according to a recognised custom
of our ancestors, who considered it a sufficient punishment on unchaste
women to have to profess their shame. Titidius Labeo, Vistilia&apos;s husband,
was judicially called on to say why with a wife whose guilt was manifest
he had neglected to inflict the legal penalty. When he pleaded that
the sixty days given for deliberation had not yet expired, it was
thought sufficient to decide Vistilia&apos;s case, and she was banished
out of sight to the island of Seriphos. 

There was a debate too about expelling the Egyptian and Jewish worship,
and a resolution of the Senate was passed that four thousand of the
freedmen class who were infected with those superstitions and were
of military age should be transported to the island of Sardinia, to
quell the brigandage of the place, a cheap sacrifice should they die
from the pestilential climate. The rest were to quit Italy, unless
before a certain day they repudiated their impious rites.

Next the emperor brought forward a motion for the election of a Vestal
virgin in the room of Occia, who for fifty-seven years had presided
with the most immaculate virtue over the Vestal worship. He formally
thanked Fonteius Agrippa and Domitius Pollio for offering their daughters
and so vying with one another in zeal for the commonwealth. Pollio&apos;s
daughter was preferred, only because her mother had lived with one
and the same husband, while Agrippa had impaired the honour of his
house by a divorce. The emperor consoled his daughter, passed over
though she was, with a dowry of a million sesterces. 

As the city populace complained of the cruel dearness of corn, he
fixed a price for grain to be paid by the purchaser, promising himself
to add two sesterces on every peck for the traders. But he would not
therefore accept the title of &quot;father of the country&quot; which once before
too had been offered him, and he sharply rebuked those who called
his work &quot;divine&quot; and himself &quot;lord.&quot; Consequently, speech was restricted
and perilous under an emperor who feared freedom while he hated sycophancy.

I find it stated by some writers and senators of the period that a
letter from Adgandestrius, chief of the Chatti, was read in the Senate,
promising the death of Arminius, if poison were sent for the perpetration
of the murder, and that the reply was that it was not by secret treachery
but openly and by arms that the people of Rome avenged themselves
on their enemies. A noble answer, by which Tiberius sought to liken
himself to those generals of old who had forbidden and even denounced
the poisoning of king Pyrrhus. 

Arminius, meanwhile, when the Romans retired and Maroboduus was expelled,
found himself opposed in aiming at the throne by his countrymen&apos;s
independent spirit. He was assailed by armed force, and while fighting
with various success, fell by the treachery of his kinsmen. Assuredly
he was the deliverer of Germany, one too who had defied Rome, not
in her early rise, as other kings and generals, but in the height
of her empire&apos;s glory, had fought, indeed, indecisive battles, yet
in war remained unconquered. He completed thirty-seven years of life,
twelve years of power, and he is still a theme of song among barbarous
nations, though to Greek historians, who admire only their own achievements,
he is unknown, and to Romans not as famous as he should be, while
we extol the past and are indifferent to our own times. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

BOOK III

A.D. 20-22 

Without pausing in her winter voyage Agrippina arrived at the island
of Corcyra, facing the shores of Calabria. There she spent a few days
to compose her mind, for she was wild with grief and knew not how
to endure. Meanwhile on hearing of her arrival, all her intimate friends
and several officers, every one indeed who had served under Germanicus,
many strangers too from the neighbouring towns, some thinking it respectful
to the emperor, and still more following their example, thronged eagerly
to Brundisium, the nearest and safest landing place for a voyager.

As soon as the fleet was seen on the horizon, not only the harbour
and the adjacent shores, but the city walls too and the roofs and
every place which commanded the most distant prospect were filled
with crowds of mourners, who incessantly asked one another, whether,
when she landed, they were to receive her in silence or with some
utterance of emotion. They were not agreed on what befitted the occasion
when the fleet slowly approached, its crew, not joyous as is usual,
but wearing all a studied expression of grief. When Agrippina descended
from the vessel with her two children, clasping the funeral urn, with
eyes riveted to the earth, there was one universal groan. You could
not distinguish kinsfolk from strangers, or the laments of men from
those of women; only the attendants of Agrippina, worn out as they
were by long sorrow, were surpassed by the mourners who now met them,
fresh in their grief. 

The emperor had despatched two praetorian cohorts with instructions
that the magistrates of Calabria, Apulia, and Campania were to pay
the last honours to his son&apos;s memory. Accordingly tribunes and centurions
bore Germanicus&apos;s ashes on their shoulders. They were preceded by
the standards unadorned and the faces reversed. As they passed colony
after colony, the populace in black, the knights in their state robes,
burnt vestments and perfumes with other usual funeral adjuncts, in
proportion to the wealth of the place. Even those whose towns were
out of the route, met the mourners, offered victims and built altars
to the dead, testifying their grief by tears and wailings. Drusus
went as far as Tarracina with Claudius, brother of Germanicus, and
had been at Rome. Marcus Valerius and Caius Aurelius, the consuls,
who had already entered on office, and a great number of the people
thronged the road in scattered groups, every one weeping as he felt
inclined. Flattery there was none, for all knew that Tiberius could
scarcely dissemble his joy at the death of Germanicus. 

Tiberius Augusta refrained from showing themselves, thinking it below
their dignity to shed tears in public, or else fearing that, if all
eyes scrutinised their faces, their hypocrisy would be revealed. I
do not find in any historian or in the daily register that Antonia,
Germanicus&apos;s mother, rendered any conspicuous honour to the deceased,
though besides Agrippina, Drusus, and Claudius, all his other kinsfolk
are mentioned by name. She may either have been hindered by illness,
or with a spirit overpowered by grief she may not have had the heart
to endure the sight of so great an affliction. But I can more easily
believe that Tiberius and Augusta, who did not leave the palace, kept
her within, that their sorrow might seem equal to hers, and that the
grandmother and uncle might be thought to follow the mother&apos;s example
in staying at home. 

The day on which the remains were consigned to the tomb of Augustus,
was now desolate in its silence, now distracted by lamentations. The
streets of the city were crowded; torches were blazing throughout
the Campus Martius. There the soldiers under arms, the magistrates
without their symbols of office, the people in the tribes, were all
incessantly exclaiming that the commonwealth was ruined, that not
a hope remained, too boldly and openly to let one think that they
remembered their rulers. But nothing impressed Tiberius more deeply
than the enthusiasm kindled in favor of Agrippina, whom men spoke
of as the glory of the country, the sole surviving off spring of Augustus,
the solitary example of the old times, while looking up to heaven
and the gods they prayed for the safety of her children and that they
might outlive their oppressors. 

Some there were who missed the grandeur of a state-funeral, and contrasted
the splendid honours conferred by Augustus on Drusus, the father of
Germanicus. &quot;Then the emperor himself,&quot; they said, &quot;went in the extreme
rigour of winter as far as Ticinum, and never leaving the corpse entered
Rome with it. Round the funeral bier were ranged the images of the
Claudii and the Julii; there was weeping in the forum, and a panegyric
before the rostra; every honour devised by our ancestors or invented
by their descendants was heaped on him. But as for Germanicus, even
the customary distinctions due to any noble had not fallen to his
lot. Granting that his body, because of the distance of tie journey,
was burnt in any fashion in foreign lands, still all the more honours
ought to have been afterwards paid him, because at first chance had
denied them. His brother had gone but one day&apos;s journey to meet him;
his uncle, not even to the city gates. Where were all those usages
of the past, the image at the head of the bier, the lays composed
in commemoration of worth, the eulogies and laments, or at least the
semblance of grief?&quot; 

All this was known to Tiberius, and, to silence popular talk, he reminded
the people in a proclamation that many eminent Romans had died for
their country and that none had been honoured with such passionate
regret. This regret was a glory both to himself and to all, provided
only a due mean were observed; for what was becoming in humble homes
and communities, did not befit princely personages and an imperial
people. Tears and the solace found in mourning were suitable enough
for the first burst of grief; but now they must brace their hearts
to endurance, as in former days the Divine Julius after the loss of
his only daughter, and the Divine Augustus when he was bereft of his
grandchildren, had thrust away their sorrow. There was no need of
examples from the past, showing how often the Roman people had patiently
endured the defeats of armies, the destruction of generals, the total
extinction of noble families. Princes were mortal; the State was everlasting.
Let them then return to their usual pursuits, and, as the shows of
the festival of the Great Goddess were at hand, even resume their
amusements. 

The suspension of business then ceased, and men went back to their
occupations. Drusus was sent to the armies of Illyricum, amidst an
universal eagerness to exact vengeance on Piso, and ceaseless complaints
that he was meantime roaming through the delightful regions of Asia
and Achaia, and was weakening the proofs of his guilt by an insolent
and artful procrastination. It was indeed widely rumoured that the
notorius poisoner Martina, who, as I have related, had been despatched
to Rome by Cneius Sentius, had died suddenly at Brundisium; that poison
was concealed in a knot of her hair, and that no symptoms of suicide
were discovered on her person. 

Piso meanwhile sent his son on to Rome with a message intended to
pacify the emporer, and then made his way to Drusus, who would, he
hoped, be not so much infuriated at his brother&apos;s death as kindly
disposed towards himself in consequence of a rival&apos;s removal. Tiberius,
to show his impartiality, received the youth courteously, and enriched
him with the liberality he usually bestowed on the sons of noble families.
Drusus replied to Piso that if certain insinuations were true, he
must be foremost in his resentment, but he preferred to believe that
they were false and groundless, and that Germanicus&apos;s death need be
the ruin of no one. This he said openly, avoiding anything like secrecy.
Men did not doubt that his answer prescribed him by Tiberius, inasmuch
as one who had generally all the simplicity and candour of youth,
now had recourse to the artifices of old age. 

Piso, after crossing the Dalmatian sea and leaving his ships at Ancona,
went through Picenum and along the Flaminian road, where he overtook
a legion which was marching from Pannonia to Rome and was then to
garrison Africa. It was a matter of common talk how he had repeatedly
displayed himself to the soldiers on the road during the march. From
Narnia, to avoid suspicion or because the plans of fear are uncertain,
he sailed down the Nar, then down the Tiber, and increased the fury
of the populace by bringing his vessel to shore at the tomb of the
Caesars. In broad daylight, when the river-bank was thronged, he himself
with a numerous following of dependents, and Plancina with a retinue
of women, moved onward with joy in their countenances. Among other
things which provoked men&apos;s anger was his house towering above the
forum, gay with festal decorations, his banquets and his feasts, about
which there was no secrecy, because the place was so public.

Next day, Fulcinius Trio asked the consul&apos;s leave to prosecute Piso.
It was contended against him by Vitellius and Veranius and the others
who had been the companions of Germanicus, that this was not Trio&apos;s
proper part, and that they themselves meant to report their instructions
from Germanicus, not as accusers, but as deponents and witnesses to
facts. Trio, abandoning the prosecution on this count, obtained leave
to accuse Piso&apos;s previous career, and the emperor was requested to
undertake the inquiry. This even the accused did not refuse, fearing,
as he did, the bias of the people and of the Senate; while Tiberius,
he knew, was resolute enough to despise report, and was also entangled
in his mother&apos;s complicity. Truth too would be more easily distinguished
from perverse misrepresentation by a single judge, where a number
would be swayed by hatred and ill-will. 

Tiberius was not unaware of the formidable difficulty of the inquiry
and of the rumours by which he was himself assailed. Having therefore
summoned a few intimate friends, he listened to the threatening speeches
of the prosecutors and to the pleadings of the accused, and finally
referred the whole case to the Senate. 

Drusus meanwhile, on his return from Illyricum, though the Senate
had voted him an ovation for the submission of Maroboduus and the
successes of the previous summer, postponed the honour and entered
Rome. Then the defendant sought the advocacy of Lucius Arruntius,
Marcus Vinicius, Asinius Gallus, Aeserninus Marcellus and Sextus Pompeius,
and on their declining for different reasons, Marcus Lepidus, Lucius
Piso, and Livineius Regulus became his counsel, amid the excitement
of the whole country, which wondered how much fidelity would be shown
by the friends of Germanicus, on what the accused rested his hopes,
and how far Tiberius would repress and hide his feelings. Never were
the people more keenly interested; never did they indulge themselves
more freely in secret whispers against the emperor or in the silence
of suspicion. 

On the day the Senate met, Tiberius delivered a speech of studied
moderation. &quot;Piso,&quot; he said, &quot;was my father&apos;s representative and friend,
and was appointed by myself, on the advice of the Senate, to assist
Germanicus in the administration of the East. Whether he there had
provoked the young prince by wilful opposition and rivalry, and had
rejoiced at his death or wickedly destroyed him, is for you to determine
with minds unbiassed. Certainly if a subordinate oversteps the bounds
of duty and of obedience to his commander, and has exulted in his
death and in my affliction, I shall hate him and exclude him from
my house, and I shall avenge a personal quarrel without resorting
to my power as emperor. If however a crime is discovered which ought
to be punished, whoever the murdered man may be, it is for you to
give just reparation both to the children of Germanicus and to us,
his parents. 

&quot;Consider this too, whether Piso dealt with the armies in a revolutionary
and seditious spirit; whether he sought by intrigue popularity with
the soldiers; whether he attempted to repossess himself of the province
by arms, or whether these are falsehoods which his accusers have published
with exaggeration. As for them, I am justly angry with their intemperate
zeal. For to what purpose did they strip the corpse and expose it
to the pollution of the vulgar gaze, and circulate a story among foreigners
that he was destroyed by poison, if all this is still doubtful and
requires investigation? For my part, I sorrow for my son and shall
always sorrow for him; still I would not hinder the accused from producing
all the evidence which can relieve his innocence or convict Germanicus
of any unfairness, if such there was. And I implore you not to take
as proven charges alleged, merely because the case is intimately bound
up with my affliction. Do you, whom ties of blood or your own true-heartedness
have made his advocates, help him in his peril, every one of you,
as far as each man&apos;s eloquence and diligence can do so. To like exertions
and like persistency I would urge the prosecutors. In this, and in
this only, will we place Germanicus above the laws, by conducting
the inquiry into his death in this house instead of in the forum,
and before the Senate instead of before a bench of judges. In all
else let the case be tried as simply as others. Let no one heed the
tears of Drusus or my own sorrow, or any stories invented to our discredit.&quot;

Two days were then assigned for the bringing forward of the charges,
and after six days&apos; interval, the prisoner&apos;s defence was to occupy
three days. Thereupon Fulcinius Trio began with some old and irrelevant
accusations about intrigues and extortion during Piso&apos;s government
of Spain. This, if proved, would not have been fatal to the defendant,
if he cleared himself as to his late conduct, and, if refuted, would
not have secured his acquittal, if he were convicted of the greater
crimes. Next, Servaeus, Veranius, and Vitellius, all with equal earnestness,
Vitellius with striking eloquence, alleged against Piso that out of
hatred of Germanicus and a desire of revolution he had so corrupted
the common soldiers by licence and oppression of the allies that he
was called by the vilest of them &quot;father of the legions&quot; while on
the other hand to all the best men, especially to the companions and
friends of Germanicus, he had been savagely cruel. Lastly, he had,
they said, destroyed Germanicus himself by sorceries and poison, and
hence came those ceremonies and horrible sacrifices made by himself
and Plancina; then he had threatened the State with war, and had been
defeated in battle, before he could be tried as a prisoner.

On all points but one the defence broke down. That he had tampered
with the soldiers, that his province had been at the mercy of the
vilest of them, that he had even insulted his chief, he could not
deny. It was only the charge of poisoning from which he seemed to
have cleared himself. This indeed the prosecutors did not adequately
sustain by merely alleging that at a banquet given by Germanicus,
his food had been tainted with poison by the hands of Piso who sat
next above him. It seemed absurd to suppose that he would have dared
such an attempt among strange servants, in the sight of so many bystanders,
and under Germanicus&apos;s own eyes. And, besides, the defendant offered
his slaves to the torture, and insisted on its application to the
attendants on that occasion. But the judges for different reasons
were merciless, the emperor, because war had been made on a province,
the Senate because they could not be sufficiently convinced that there
had been no treachery about the death of Germanicus. 

At the same time shouts were heard from the people in front of the
Senate House, threatening violence if he escaped the verdict of the
Senators. They had actually dragged Piso&apos;s statues to the Gemonian
stairs, and were breaking them in pieces, when by the emperor&apos;s order
they were rescued and replaced. Piso was then put in a litter and
attended by a tribune of one of the Praetorian cohorts, who followed
him, so it was variously rumoured, to guard his person or to be his
executioner. 

Plancina was equally detested, but had stronger interest. Consequently
it was considered a question how far the emperor would be allowed
to go against her. While Piso&apos;s hopes were in suspense, she offered
to share his lot, whatever it might be, and in the worst event, to
be his companion in death. But as soon as she had secured her pardon
through the secret intercessions of Augusta, she gradually withdrew
from her husband and separated her defence from his. When the prisoner
saw that this was fatal to him, he hesitated whether he should still
persist, but at the urgent request of his sons braced his courage
and once more entered the Senate. There he bore patiently the renewal
of the accusation, the furious voices of the Senators, savage opposition
indeed from every quarter, but nothing daunted him so much as to see
Tiberius, without pity and without anger, resolutely closing himself
against any inroad of emotion. He was conveyed back to his house,
where, seemingly by way of preparing his defence for the next day,
he wrote a few words, sealed the paper and handed it to a freedman.
Then he bestowed the usual attention on his person; after a while,
late at night, his wife having left his chamber, he ordered the doors
to be closed, and at daybreak was found with his throat cut and a
sword lying on the ground. 

I remember to have heard old men say that a document was often seen
in Piso&apos;s hands, the substance of which he never himself divulged,
but which his friends repeatedly declared contained a letter from
Tiberius with instructions referring to Germanicus, and that it was
his intention to produce it before the Senate and upbraid the emperor,
had he not been deluded by vain promises from Sejanus. Nor did he
perish, they said, by his own hand, but by that of one sent to be
his executioner. Neither of these statements would I positively affirm;
still it would not have been right for me to conceal what was related
by those who lived up to the time of my youth. 

The emperor, assuming an air of sadness, complained in the Senate
that the purpose of such a death was to bring odium on himself, and
he asked with repeated questionings how Piso had spent his last day
and night. Receiving answers which were mostly judicious, though in
part somewhat incautious, he read out a note written by Piso, nearly
to the following effect:- 

&quot;Crushed by a conspiracy of my foes and the odium excited by a lying
charge, since my truth and innocence find no place here, I call the
immortal gods to witness that towards you Caesar, I have lived loyally,
and with like dutiful respect towards your mother. And I implore you
to think of my children, one of whom, Cneius is in way implicated
in my career, whatever it may have been, seeing that all this time
he has been at Rome, while the other, Marcus Piso, dissuaded me from
returning to Syria. Would that I had yielded to my young son rather
than he to his aged father! And therefore I pray the more earnestly
that the innocent may not pay the penalty of my wickedness. By forty-five
years of obedience, by my association with you in the consulate, as
one who formerly won the esteem of the Divine Augustus, your father,
as one who is your friend and will never hereafter ask a favour, I
implore you to save my unhappy son.&quot; About Plancina he added not a
word. 

Tiberius after this acquitted the young Piso of the charge of civil
war on the ground that a son could not have refused a father&apos;s orders,
compassionating at the same time the high rank of the family and the
terrible downfall even of Piso himself, however he might have deserved
it. For Plancina he spoke with shame and conscious disgrace, alleging
in excuse the intercession of his mother, secret complaints against
whom from all good men were growing more and more vehement. &quot;So it
was the duty of a grandmother,&quot; people said, &quot;to look a grandson&apos;s
murderess in the face, to converse with her and rescue her from the
Senate. What the laws secure on behalf of every citizen, had to Germanicus
alone been denied. The voices of a Vitellius and Veranius had bewailed
a Caesar, while the emperor and Augusta had defended Plancina. She
might as well now turn her poisonings, and her devices which had proved
so successful, against Agrippina and her children, and thus sate this
exemplary grandmother and uncle with the blood of a most unhappy house.&quot;

Two days were frittered away over this mockery of a trial, Tiberius
urging Piso&apos;s children to defend their mother. While the accusers
and their witnesses pressed the prosecution with rival zeal, and there
was no reply, pity rather than anger was on the increase. Aurelius
Cotta, the consul, who was first called on for his vote (for when
the emperor put the question, even those in office went through the
duty of voting), held that Piso&apos;s name ought to be erased from the
public register, half of his property confiscated, half given up to
his son, Cneius Piso, who was to change his first name; that Marcus
Piso, stript of his rank, with an allowance of five million sesterces,
should be banished for ten years, Plancina&apos;s life being spared in
consideration of Augusta&apos;s intercession. 

Much of the sentence was mitigated by the emperor. The name of Piso
was not to be struck out of the public register, since that of Marcus
Antonius who had made war on his country, and that of Julius Antonius
who had dishonoured the house of Augustus, still remained. Marcus
Piso too he saved from degradation, and gave him his father&apos;s property,
for he was firm enough, as I have often related, against the temptation
of money, and now for very shame at Plancina&apos;s acquittal, he was more
than usually merciful. Again, when Valerius Messalinus and Caecina
Severus proposed respectively the erection of a golden statue in the
temple of Mars the Avenger and of an altar to Vengeance, he interposed,
protesting that victories over the foreigner were commemorated with
such monuments, but that domestic woes ought to be shrouded in silent
grief. 

There was a further proposal of Messalinus, that Tiberius, Augusta,
Antonia, Agrippina and Drusus ought to be publicly thanked for having
avenged Germanicus. He omitted all mention of Claudius. Thereupon
he was pointedly asked by Lucius Asprenas before the Senate, whether
the omission had been intentional, and it was only then that the name
of Claudius was added. For my part, the wider the scope of my reflection
on the present and the past, the more am I impressed by their mockery
of human plans in every transaction. Clearly, the very last man marked
out for empire by public opinion, expectation and general respect
was he whom fortune was holding in reserve as the emperor of the future.

A few days afterwards the emperor proposed to the Senate to confer
the priesthood on Vitellius, Veranius and Servaeus. To Fulcinius he
promised his support in seeking promotion, but warned him not to ruin
his eloquence by rancour. This was the end of avenging the death of
Germanicus, a subject of conflicting rumours not only among the people
then living but also in after times. So obscure are the greatest events,
as some take for granted any hearsay, whatever its source, others
turn truth into falsehood, and both errors find encouragement with
posterity. 

Drusus meanwhile quitted Rome to resume his command and soon afterwards
re-entered the city with an ovation. In the course of a few days his
mother Vipsania died, the only one of all Agrippa&apos;s children whose
death was without violence. As for the rest, they perished, some it
is certain by the sword, others it was believed by poison or starvation.

That same year Tacfarinas who had been defeated, as I have related,
by Camillus in the previous summer, renewed hostilities in Africa,
first by mere desultory raids, so swift as to be unpunished; next,
by destroying villages and carrying off plunder wholesale. Finally,
he hemmed in a Roman cohort near the river Pagyda. The position was
commanded by Decrius, a soldier energetic in action and experienced
in war, who regarded the siege as a disgrace. Cheering on his men
to offer battle in the open plain, he drew up his line in front of
his intrenchments. At the first shock, the cohort was driven back,
upon which he threw himself fearlessly amid the missiles in the path
of the fugitives and cried shame on the standard-bearers for letting
Roman soldiers show their backs to a rabble of deserters. At the same
moment he was covered with wounds, and though pierced through the
eye, he resolutely faced the enemy and ceased not to fight till he
fell deserted by his men. 

On receiving this information, Lucius Apronius, successor to Camillus,
alarmed more by the dishonour of his own men than by the glory of
the enemy, ventured on a deed quite exceptional at that time and derived
from old tradition. He flogged to death every tenth man drawn by lot
from the disgraced cohort. So beneficial was this rigour that a detachment
of veterans, numbering not more than five hundred, routed those same
troops of Tacfarinas on their attacking a fortress named Thala. In
this engagement Rufus Helvius, a common soldier, won the honour of
saving a citizen&apos;s life, and was rewarded by Apronius with a neck-chain
and a spear. To these the emperor added the civic crown, complaining,
but without anger, that Apronius had not used his right as proconsul
to bestow this further distinction. 

Tacfarinas, however, finding that the Numidians were cowed and had
a horror of siege-operations, pursued a desultory warfare, retreating
when he was pressed, and then again hanging on his enemy&apos;s rear. While
the barbarian continued these tactics, he could safely insult the
baffled and exhausted Romans. But when he marched away towards the
coast and, hampered with booty, fixed himself in a regular camp, Caesianus
was despatched by his father Apronius with some cavalry and auxiliary
infantry, reinforced by the most active of the legionaries, and, after
a successful battle with the Numidians, drove them into the desert.

At Rome meanwhile Lepida, who beside the glory of being one of the
Aemilii was the great-granddaughter of Lucius Sulla and Cneius Pompeius,
was accused of pretending to be a mother by Publius Quirinus, a rich
and childless man. Then, too, there were charges of adulteries, of
poisonings, and of inquiries made through astrologers concerning the
imperial house. The accused was defended by her brother Manius Lepidus.
Quirinus by his relentless enmity even after his divorce, had procured
for her some sympathy, infamous and guilty as she was. One could not
easily perceive the emperor&apos;s feelings at her trial; so effectually
did he interchange and blend the outward signs of resentment and compassion.
He first begged the Senate not to deal with the charges of treason,
and subsequently induced Marcus Servilius, an ex-consul, to divulge
what he had seemingly wished to suppress. He also handed over to the
consuls Lepida&apos;s slaves, who were in military custody, but would not
allow them to be examined by torture on matters referring to his own
family. Drusus too, the consul-elect, he released from the necessity
of having to speak first to the question. Some thought this a gracious
act, done to save the rest of the Senators from a compulsory assent,
while others ascribed it to malignity, on the ground that he would
have yielded only where there was a necessity of condemning.

On the days of the games which interrupted the trial, Lepida went
into the theatre with some ladies of rank, and as she appealed with
piteous wailings to her ancestors and to that very Pompey, the public
buildings and statues of whom stood there before their eyes, she roused
such sympathy that people burst into tears and shouted, without ceasing,
savage curses on Quirinus, &quot;to whose childless old-age and miserably
obscure family, one once destined to be the wife of Lucius Caesar
and the daughter-in-law of the Divine Augustus was being sacrificed.&quot;
Then, by the torture of the slaves, her infamies were brought to light,
and a motion of Rubellius Blandus was carried which outlawed her.
Drusus supported him, though others had proposed a milder sentence.
Subsequently, Scaurus, who had had daughter by her, obtained as a
concession that her property should not be confiscated. Then at last
Tiberius declared that he had himself too ascertained from the slaves
of Publius Quirinus that Lepida had attempted their master&apos;s life
by poison. 

It was some compensation for the misfortunes of great houses (for
within a short interval the Calpurnii had lost Piso and the Aemilii
Lepida) that Decimus Silanus was now restored to the Junian family.
I will briefly relate his downfall. 

Though the Divine Augustus in his public life enjoyed unshaken prosperity,
he was unfortunate at home from the profligacy of his daughter and
granddaughter, both of whom he banished from Rome, and punished their
paramours with death or exile. Calling, as he did, a vice so habitual
among men and women by the awful name of sacrilege and treason, he
went far beyond the indulgent spirit of our ancestors, beyond indeed
his own legislation. But I will relate the deaths of others with the
remaining events of that time, if after finishing the work I have
now proposed to myself, I prolong my life for further labours.

Decimus Silanus, the paramour of the granddaughter of Augustus, though
the only severity he experienced was exclusion from the emperor&apos;s
friendship, saw clearly that it meant exile; and it was not till Tiberius&apos;s
reign that he ventured to appeal to the Senate and to the prince,
in reliance on the influence of his brother Marcus Silanus, who was
conspicuous both for his distinguished rank and eloquence. But Tiberius,
when Silanus thanked him, replied in the Senate&apos;s presence, &quot;that
he too rejoiced at the brother&apos;s return from his long foreign tour,
and that this was justly allowable, inasmuch as he had been banished
not by a decree of the Senate or under any law. Still, personally,&quot;
he said, &quot;he felt towards him his father&apos;s resentment in all its force,
and the return of Silanus had not cancelled the intentions of Augustus.&quot;
Silanus after this lived at Rome without attaining office.

It was next proposed to relax the Papia Poppaea law, which Augustus
in his old age had passed subsequently to the Julian statutes, for
yet further enforcing the penalties on celibacy and for enriching
the exchequer. And yet, marriages and the rearing of children did
not become more frequent, so powerful were the attractions of a childless
state. Meanwhile there was an increase in the number of persons imperilled,
for every household was undermined by the insinuations of informers;
and now the country suffered from its laws, as it had hitherto suffered
from its vices. This suggests to me a fuller discussion of the origin
of law and of the methods by which we have arrived at the present
endless multiplicity and variety of our statutes. 

Mankind in the earliest age lived for a time without a single vicious
impulse, without shame or guilt, and, consequently, without punishment
and restraints. Rewards were not needed when everything right was
pursued on its own merits; and as men desired nothing against morality,
they were debarred from nothing by fear. When however they began to
throw off equality, and ambition and violence usurped the place of
self-control and modesty, despotisms grew up and became perpetual
among many nations. Some from the beginning, or when tired of kings,
preferred codes of laws. These were at first simple, while men&apos;s minds
were unsophisticated. The most famous of them were those of the Cretans,
framed by Minos; those of the Spartans, by Lycurgus, and, subsequently,
those which Solan drew up for the Athenians on a more elaborate and
extensive scale. Romulus governed us as he pleased; then Numa united
our people by religious ties and a constitution of divine origin,
to which some additions were made by Tullus and Ancus. But Servius
Tullius was our chief legislator, to whose laws even kings were to
be subject. 

After Tarquin&apos;s expulsion, the people, to check cabals among the Senators,
devised many safeguards for freedom and for the establishment of unity.
Decemvirs were appointed; everything specially admirable elsewhere
was adopted, and the Twelve Tables drawn up, the last specimen of
equitable legislation. For subsequent enactments, though occasionally
directed against evildoers for some crime, were oftener carried by
violence amid class dissensions, with a view to obtain honours not
as yet conceded, or to banish distinguished citizens, or for other
base ends. Hence the Gracchi and Saturnini, those popular agitators,
and Drusus too, as flagrant a corrupter in the Senate&apos;s name; hence,
the bribing of our allies by alluring promises and the cheating them
by tribunes vetoes. Even the Italian and then the Civil war did not
pass without the enactment of many conflicting laws, till Lucius Sulla,
the Dictator, by the repeal or alteration of past legislation and
by many additions, gave us a brief lull in this process, to be instantly
followed by the seditious proposals of Lepidus, and soon afterwards
by the tribunes recovering their license to excite the people just
as they chose. And now bills were passed, not only for national objects
but for individual cases, and laws were most numerous when the commonwealth
was most corrupt. 

Cneius Pompeius was then for the third time elected consul to reform
public morals, but in applying remedies more terrible than the evils
and repealing the legislation of which he had himself been the author,
he lost by arms what by arms he had been maintaining. Then followed
twenty years of continuous strife; custom or law there was none; the
vilest deeds went unpunished, while many noble acts brought ruin.
At last, in his sixth consulship, Caesar Augustus, feeling his power
secure, annulled the decrees of his triumvirate, and gave us a constitution
which might serve us in peace under a monarchy. Henceforth our chains
became more galling, and spies were set over us, stimulated by rewards
under the Papia Poppaea law, so that if men shrank from the privileges
of fatherhood, the State, as universal parent, might possess their
ownerless properties. But this espionage became too searching, and
Rome and Italy and Roman citizens everywhere fell into its clutches.
Many men&apos;s fortunes were ruined, and over all there hung a terror
till Tiberius, to provide a remedy, selected by lot five ex-consuls,
five ex-praetors, and five senators, by whom most of the legal knots
were disentangled and some light temporary relief afforded.

About this same time he commended to the Senate&apos;s favour, Nero, Germanicus&apos;s
son, who was just entering on manhood, and asked them, not without
smiles of ridicule from his audience, to exempt him from serving as
one of the Twenty Commissioners, and let him be a candidate for quaestorship
five years earlier than the law allowed. His excuse was that a similar
decree had been made for himself and his brother at the request of
Augustus. But I cannot doubt that even then there were some who secretly
laughed at such a petition, though the Caesars were but in the beginning
of their grandeur, and ancient usage was more constantly before men&apos;s
eyes, while also the tie between stepfather and stepson was weaker
than that between grandfather and grandchild. The pontificate was
likewise conferred on Nero, and on the day on which he first entered
the forum, a gratuity was given to the city-populace, who greatly
rejoiced at seeing a son of Germanicus now grown to manhood. Their
joy was further increased by Nero&apos;s marriage to Julia, Drusus&apos;s daughter.
This news was met with favourable comments, but it was heard with
disgust that Sejanus was to be the father-in-law of the son of Claudius.
The emperor was thought to have polluted the nobility of his house
and to have yet further elevated Sejanus, whom they already suspected
of overweening ambition. 

Two remarkable men died at the end of the year, Lucius Volusius and
Sallustius Crispus. Volusius was of an old family, which had however
never risen beyond the praetorship. He brought into it the consulship;
he also held the office of censor for arranging the classes of the
knights, and was the first to pile up the wealth which that house
enjoyed to a boundless extent. 

Crispus was of equestrian descent and grandson of a sister of Caius
Sallustius, that most admirable Roman historian, by whom he was adopted
and whose name he took. Though his road to preferment was easy, he
chose to emulate Maecenas, and without rising to a senator&apos;s rank,
he surpassed in power many who had won triumphs and consulships. He
was a contrast to the manners of antiquity in his elegance and refinement,
and in the sumptuousness of his wealth he was almost a voluptuary.
But beneath all this was a vigorous mind, equal to the greatest labours,
the more active in proportion as he made a show of sloth and apathy.
And so while Maecenas lived, he stood next in favour to him, and was
afterwards the chief depository of imperial secrets, and accessory
to the murder of Postumus Agrippa, till in advanced age he retained
the shadow rather than the substance of the emperor&apos;s friendship.
The same too had happened to Maecenas, so rarely is it the destiny
of power to be lasting, or perhaps a sense of weariness steals over
princes when they have bestowed everything, or over favourites, when
there is nothing left them to desire. 

Next followed Tiberius&apos;s fourth, Drusus&apos;s second consulship, memorable
from the fact that father and son were colleagues. Two years previously
the association of Germanicus and Tiberius in the same honour had
not been agreeable to the uncle, nor had it the link of so close a
natural tie. 

At the beginning of this year Tiberius, avowedly to recruit his health,
retired to Campania, either as a gradual preparation for long and
uninterrupted seclusion, or in order that Drusus alone in his father&apos;s
absence might discharge the duties of the consulship. It happened
that a mere trifle which grew into a sharp contest gave the young
prince the means of acquiring popularity. Domitius Corbulo, an ex-praetor,
complained to the Senate that Lucius Sulla, a young noble, had not
given place to him at a gladiatorial show. Corbulo had age, national
usage and the feelings of the older senators in his favour. Against
him Mamercus Scaurus, Lucius Arruntius and other kinsmen of Sulla
strenuously exerted themselves. There was a keen debate, and appeal
was made to the precedents of our ancestors, as having censured in
severe decrees disrespect on the part of the young, till Drusus argued
in a strain calculated to calm their feelings. Corbulo too received
an apology from Mamercus, who was Sulla&apos;s uncle and stepfather, and
the most fluent speaker of that day. 

It was this same Corbulo, who, after raising a cry that most of the
roads in Italy were obstructed or impassable through the dishonesty
of contractors and the negligence of officials, himself willingly
undertook the complete management of the business. This proved not
so beneficial to the State as ruinous to many persons, whose property
and credit he mercilessly attacked by convictions and confiscations.

Soon afterwards Tiberius informed the Senate by letter that Africa
was again disturbed by an incursion of Tacfarinas, and that they must
use their judgment in choosing as proconsul an experienced soldier
of vigorous constitution, who would be equal to the war. Sextus Pompeius
caught at this opportunity of venting his hatred against Lepidus,
whom he condemned as a poor-spirited and needy man, who was a disgrace
to his ancestors, and therefore deserved to lose even his chance of
the province of Asia. But the Senate were against him, for they thought
Lepidus gentle rather than cowardly, and that his inherited poverty,
with the high rank in which he had lived without a blot, ought to
be considered a credit to instead of a reproach. And so he was sent
to Asia, and with respect to Africa it was decided that the emperor
should choose to whom it was to be assigned. 

During this debate Severus Caecina proposed that no magistrate who
had obtained a province should be accompanied by his wife. He began
by recounting at length how harmoniously he had lived with his wife,
who had borne him six children, and how in his own home he had observed
what he was proposing for the public, by having kept her in Italy,
though he had himself served forty campaigns in various provinces.
&quot;With good reason,&quot; he said, &quot;had it been formerly decided that women
were not to be taken among our allies or into foreign countries. A
train of women involves delays through luxury in peace and through
panic in war, and converts a Roman army on the march into the likeness
of a barbarian progress. Not only is the sex feeble and unequal to
hardship, but, when it has liberty, it is spiteful, intriguing and
greedy of power. They show themselves off among the soldiers and have
the centurions at their beck. Lately a woman had presided at the drill
of the cohorts and the evolutions of the legions. You should yourselves
bear in mind that, whenever men are accused of extortion, most of
the charges are directed against the wives. It is to these that the
vilest of the provincials instantly attach themselves; it is they
who undertake and settle business; two persons receive homage when
they appear; there are two centres of government, and the women&apos;s
orders are the more despotic and intemperate. Formerly they were restrained
by the Oppian and other laws; now, loosed from every bond, they rule
our houses, our tribunals, even our armies.&quot; 

A few heard this speech with approval, but the majority clamorously
objected that there was no proper motion on the subject, and that
Caecina was no fit censor on so grave an issue. Presently Valerius
Messalinus, Messala&apos;s son, in whom the father&apos;s eloquence was reproduced,
replied that much of the sternness of antiquity had been changed into
a better and more genial system. &quot;Rome,&quot; he said, &quot;is not now, as
formerly, beset with wars, nor are the provinces hostile. A few concessions
are made to the wants of women, but such as are not even a burden
to their husbands homes, much less to the allies. In all other respects
man and wife share alike, and this arrangement involves no trouble
in peace. War of course requires that men should be unincumbered,
but when they return what worthier solace can they have after their
hardships than a wife&apos;s society? But some wives have abandoned themselves
to scheming and rapacity. Well; even among our magistrates, are not
many subject to various passions? Still, that is not a reason for
sending no one into a province. Husbands have often been corrupted
by the vices of their wives. Are then all unmarried men blameless?
The Oppian laws were formerly adopted to meet the political necessities
of the time, and subsequently there was some remission and mitigation
of them on grounds of expediency. It is idle to shelter our own weakness
under other names; for it is the husband&apos;s fault if the wife transgresses
propriety. Besides, it is wrong that because of the imbecility of
one or two men, all husbands should be cut off from their partners
in prosperity and adversity. And further, a sex naturally weak will
be thus left to itself and be at the mercy of its own voluptuousness
and the passions of others. Even with the husband&apos;s personal vigilance
the marriage tie is scarcely preserved inviolate. What would happen
were it for a number of years to be forgotten, just as in a divorce?
You must not check vices abroad without remembering the scandals of
the capital.&quot; 

Drusus added a few words on his own experience as a husband. &quot;Princes,&quot;
he said, &quot;must often visit the extremities of their empire. How often
had the Divine Augustus travelled to West and to the East accompanied
by Livia? He had himself gone to Illyricum and, should it be expedient,
he would go to other countries, not always however with a contented
mind, if he had to tear himself from a much loved wife, the mother
of his many children.&quot; 

Caecina&apos;s motion was thus defeated. At the Senate&apos;s next meeting came
a letter from Tiberius, which indirectly censured them for throwing
on the emperor every political care, and named Marcus Lepidus and
Junius Blaesus, one of whom was to be chosen pro-consul of Africa.
Both spoke on the subject, and Lepidus begged earnestly to be excused.
He alleged ill-health, his children&apos;s tender age, his having a daughter
to marry, and something more of which he said nothing, was well understood,
the fact that Blaesus was uncle of Sejanus and so had very powerful
interest. Blaesus replied with an affectation of refusal, but not
with the same persistency, nor was he backed up by the acquiescence
of flatterers. 

Next was exposed an abuse, hitherto the subject of many a whispered
complaint. The vilest wretches used a growing freedom in exciting
insult and obloquy against respectable citizens, and escaped punishment
by clasping some statue of the emperor. The very freedman or slave
was often an actual terror to his patron or master whom he would menace
by word and gesture. Accordingly Caius Cestius, a senator, argued
that &quot;though princes were like deities, yet even the gods listened
only to righteous prayers from their suppliants, and that no one fled
to the Capitol or any other temple in Rome to use it as an auxiliary
in crime. There was an end and utter subversion of all law when, in
the forum and on the threshold of the Senate House, Annia Rufilla,
whom he had convicted of fraud before a judge, assailed him with insults
and threats, while he did not himself dare to try legal proceedings,
because he was confronted by her with the emperor&apos;s image.&quot; There
rose other clamorous voices, with even more flagrant complaints, and
all implored Drusus to inflict exemplary vengeance, till he ordered
Rufilla to be summoned, and on her conviction to be confined in the
common prison. 

Considius Aequus too and Coelius Cursor, Roman knights, were punished
on the emperor&apos;s proposal, by a decree of the Senate, for having attacked
the praetor, Magius Caecilianus, with false charges of treason. Both
these results were represented as an honour to Drusus. By moving in
society at Rome, amid popular talk, his father&apos;s dark policy, it was
thought, was mitigated. Even voluptuousness in one so young gave little
offence. Better that he should incline that way, spend his days in
architecture, his nights in banquets, than that he should live in
solitude, cut off from every pleasure, and absorbed in a gloomy vigilance
and mischievous schemes. 

Tiberius indeed and the informers were never weary. Ancharius Priscus
had prosecuted Caesius Cordus, proconsul of Crete, for extortion,
adding a charge of treason, which then crowned all indictments. Antistius
Vetus, one of the chief men of Macedonia, who had been acquitted of
adultery, was recalled by the emperor himself, with a censure on the
judges, to be tried for treason, as a seditious man who had been implicated
in the designs of Rhescuporis, when that king after the murder of
his brother Cotys had meditated war against us. The accused was accordingly
outlawed, with the further sentence that he was to be confined in
an island from which neither Macedonia nor Thrace were conveniently
accessible. 

As for Thrace, since the division of the kingdom between Rhoemetalces
and the children of Cotys, who because of their tender age were under
the guardianship of Trebellienus Rufus, it was divided against itself,
from not being used to our rule, and blamed Rhoemetalces no less than
Trebellienus for allowing the wrongs of his countrymen to go unpunished.
The Coelaletae, Odrusae and Dii, powerful tribes, took up arms, under
different leaders, all on a level from their obscurity. This hindered
them from combining in a formidable war. Some roused their immediate
neighbourhood; others crossed Mount Haemus, to stir up remote tribes;
most of them, and the best disciplined, besieged the king in the city
of Philippopolis, founded by the Macedonian Philip. 

When this was known to Publius Vellaeus who commanded the nearest
army, he sent some allied cavalry and light infantry to attack those
who were roaming in quest of plunder or of reinforcements, while he
marched in person with the main strength of the foot to raise the
siege. Every operation was at the same moment successful; the pillagers
were cut to pieces; dissensions broke out among the besiegers, and
the king made a well-timed sally just as the legion arrived. A battle
or even a skirmish it did not deserve to be called, in which merely
half-armed stragglers were slaughtered without bloodshed on our side.

That same year, some states of Gaul, under the pressure of heavy debts,
attempted a revolt. Its most active instigators were Julius Florus
among the Treveri and Julius Sacrovir among the Aedui. Both could
show noble birth and signal services rendered by ancestors, for which
Roman citizenship had formerly been granted them, when the gift was
rare and a recompense only of merit. In secret conferences to which
the fiercest spirits were admitted, or any to whom poverty or the
fear of guilt was an irresistible stimulus to crime, they arranged
that Florus was to rouse the Belgae, Sacrovir the Gauls nearer home.
These men accordingly talked sedition before small gatherings and
popular assemblies about the perpetual tributes, the oppressive usury,
the cruelty and arrogance of their governors, hinting too that there
was disaffection among our soldiers, since they had heard of the murder
of Germanicus. &quot;It was,&quot; they said, &quot;a grand opportunity for the recovery
of freedom, if only they would contrast their own vigour with the
exhaustion of Italy, the unwarlike character of the city populace,
and the utter weakness of Rome&apos;s armies in all but their foreign element.&quot;

Scarcely a single community was untouched by the germs of this commotion.
First however in actual revolt were the Andecavi and Turoni. Of these
the former were put down by an officer, Acilius Aviola, who had summoned
a cohort which was on garrison duty at Lugdunum. The Turoni were quelled
by some legionary troops sent by Visellius Varro who commanded in
Lower Germany, and led by the same Aviola and some Gallic chieftains
who brought aid, in order that they might disguise their disaffection
and exhibit it at a better opportunity. Sacrovir too was conspicuous,
with head uncovered, cheering on his men to fight for Rome, to display,
as he said, his valour. But the prisoners asserted that he sought
recognition that he might not be a mark for missiles. Tiberius when
consulted on the matter disdained the information, and fostered the
war by his irresolution. 

Florus meanwhile followed up his designs and tried to induce a squadron
of cavalry levied among the Treveri, trained in our service and discipline,
to begin hostilities by a massacre of the Roman traders. He corrupted
a few of the men, but the majority were steadfast in their allegiance.
A host however of debtors and dependents took up arms, and they were
on their way to the forest passes known as the Arduenna, when they
were stopped by legions which Visellius and Silius had sent from their
respective armies, by opposite routes, to meet them. Julius Indus
from the same state, who was at feud with Florus and therefore particularly
eager to render us a service, was sent on in advance with a picked
force, and dispersed the undisciplined rabble. Florus after eluding
the conquerors by hiding himself in one place after another, at last
when he saw some soldiers who had barred every possible escape, fell
by his own hand. Such was the end of the rebellion of the Treveri.

A more formidable movement broke out among the Aedui, proportioned
to the greater wealth of the state and the distance of the force which
should repress it. Sacrovir with some armed cohorts had made himself
master of Augustodunum, the capital of the tribe, with the noblest
youth of Gaul, there devoting themselves to a liberal education, and
with such hostages he proposed to unite in his cause their parents
and kinsfolk. He also distributed among the youth arms which he had
had secretly manufactured. There were forty thousand, one fifth armed
like our legionaries; the rest had spears and knives and other weapons
used in the chase. In addition were some slaves who were being trained
for gladiators, clad after the national fashion in a complete covering
of steel. They were called crupellarii, and though they were ill-adapted
for inflicting wounds, they were impenetrable to them. This army was
continually increased, not yet by any open combination of the neighbouring
states, but by zealous individual enthusiasm, as well as by strife
between the Roman generals, each of whom claimed the war for himself.
Varro after a while, as he was infirm and aged, yielded to Silius
who was in his prime. 

At Rome meanwhile people said that it was not only the Treveri and
Aedui who had revolted, but sixty-four states of Gaul with the Germans
in alliance, while Spain too was disaffected; anything in fact was
believed, with rumour&apos;s usual exaggeration. All good men were saddened
by anxiety for the country, but many in their loathing of the present
system and eagerness for change, rejoiced at their very perils and
exclaimed against Tiberius for giving attention amid such political
convulsions to the calumnies of informers. &quot;Was Sacrovir too,&quot; they
asked, &quot;to be charged with treason before the Senate? We have at last
found men to check those murderous missives by the sword. Even war
is a good exchange for a miserable peace.&quot; Tiberius all the more studiously
assumed an air of unconcern. He changed neither his residence nor
his look, but kept up his usual demeanour during the whole time, either
from the profoundness of his reserve; or was it that he had convinced
himself that the events were unimportant and much more insignificant
than the rumours represented? 

Silius meantime was advancing with two legions, and having sent forward
some auxiliary troops was ravaging those villages of the Sequani,
which, situated on the border, adjoin the Aedui, and were associated
with them in arms. He then pushed on by forced marches to Augustodunum,
his standard-bearers vying in zeal, and even the privates loudly protesting
against any halt for their usual rest or during the hours of night.
&quot;Only,&quot; they said, &quot;let us have the foe face to face; that will be
enough for victory.&quot; Twelve miles from Augustodunum they saw before
them Sacrovir and his army in an open plain. His men in armour he
had posted in the van, his light infantry on the wings, and the half-armed
in the rear. He himself rode amid the foremost ranks on a splendid
charger, reminding them of the ancient glories of the Gauls, of the
disasters they had inflicted on the Romans, how grand would be the
freedom of the victorious, how more intolerable than ever the slavery
of a second conquest. 

His words were brief and heard without exultation. For now the legions
in battle array were advancing, and the rabble of townsfolk who knew
nothing of war had their faculties of sight and hearing quite paralysed.
Silius, on the one hand, though confident hope took away any need
for encouragement, exclaimed again and again that it was a shame to
the conquerors of Germany to have to be led against Gauls, as against
an enemy. &quot;Only the other day the rebel Turoni had been discomfited
by a single cohort, the Treveri by one cavalry squadron, the Sequani
by a few companies of this very army. Prove to these Aedui once for
all that the more they abound in wealth and luxury, the more unwarlike
are they, but spare them when they flee.&quot; 

Then there was a deafening cheer; the cavalry threw itself on the
flanks, and the infantry charged the van. On the wings there was but
a brief resistance. The men in mail were somewhat of an obstacle,
as the iron plates did not yield to javelins or swords; but our men,
snatching up hatchets and pickaxes, hacked at their bodies and their
armour as if they were battering a wall. Some beat down the unwieldy
mass with pikes and forked poles, and they were left lying on the
ground, without an effort to rise, like dead men. Sacrovir with his
most trustworthy followers hurried first to Augustodunum and then,
from fear of being surrendered, to an adjacent country house. There
by his own hand he fell, and his comrades by mutually inflicted wounds.
The house was fired over their heads, and with it they were all consumed.

Then at last Tiberius informed the Senate by letter of the beginning
and completion of the war, without either taking away from or adding
to the truth, but ascribing the success to the loyalty and courage
of his generals, and to his own policy. He also gave the reasons why
neither he himself nor Drusus had gone to the war; he magnified the
greatness of the empire, and said it would be undignified for emperors,
whenever there was a commotion in one or two states, to quit the capital,
the centre of all government. Now, as he was not influenced by fear,
he would go to examine and settle matters. 

The Senate decreed vows for his safe return, with thanksgivings and
other appropriate ceremonies. Cornelius Dolabella alone, in endeavouring
to outdo the other Senators, went the length of a preposterous flattery
by proposing that he should enter Rome from Campania with an ovation.
Thereupon came a letter from the emperor, declaring that he was not
so destitute of renown as after having subdued the most savage nations
and received or refused so many triumphs in his youth, to covet now
that he was old an unmeaning honour for a tour in the neighbourhood
of Rome. 

About the same time he requested the Senate to let the death of Sulpicius
Quirinus be celebrated with a public funeral. With the old patrician
family of the Sulpicii this Quirinus, who was born in the town of
Lanuvium, was quite unconnected. An indefatigable soldier, he had
by his zealous services won the consulship under the Divine Augustus,
and subsequently the honours of a triumph for having stormed some
fortresses of the Homonadenses in Cilicia. He was also appointed adviser
to Caius Caesar in the government of Armenia, and had likewise paid
court to Tiberius, who was then at Rhodes. The emperor now made all
this known to the Senate, and extolled the good offices of Quirinus
to himself, while he censured Marcus Lollius, whom he charged with
encouraging Caius Caesar in his perverse and quarrelsome behaviour.
But people generally had no pleasure in the memory of Quirinus, because
of the perils he had brought, as I have related, on Lepida, and the
meanness and dangerous power of his last years. 

At the close of the year, Caius Lutorius Priscus, a Roman knight,
who, after writing a popular poem bewailing the death of Germanicus,
had received a reward in money from the emperor, was fastened on by
an informer, and charged with having composed another during the illness
of Drusus, which, in the event of the prince&apos;s death, might be published
with even greater profit to himself. He had in his vanity read it
in the house of Publius Petronius before Vitellia, Petronius&apos;s mother-in-law,
and several ladies of rank. As soon as the accuser appeared, all but
Vitellia were frightened into giving evidence. She alone swore that
she had heard not a word. But those who criminated him fatally were
rather believed, and on the motion of Haterius Agrippa, the consul-elect,
the last penalty was invoked on the accused. 

Marcus Lepidus spoke against the sentence as follows:- &quot;Senators,
if we look to the single fact of the infamous utterance with which
Lutorius has polluted his own mind and the ears of the public, neither
dungeon nor halter nor tortures fit for a slave would be punishment
enough for him. But though vice and wicked deeds have no limit, penalties
and correctives are moderated by the clemency of the sovereign and
by the precedents of your ancestors and yourselves. Folly differs
from wickedness; evil words from evil deeds, and thus there is room
for a sentence by which this offence may not go unpunished, while
we shall have no cause to regret either leniency or severity. Often
have I heard our emperor complain when any one has anticipated his
mercy by a self-inflicted death. Lutorius&apos;s life is still safe; if
spared, he will be no danger to the State; if put to death, he will
be no warning to others. His productions are as empty and ephemeral
as they are replete with folly. Nothing serious or alarming is to
be apprehended from the man who is the betrayer of his own shame and
works on the imaginations not of men but of silly women. However,
let him leave Rome, lose his property, and be outlawed. That is my
proposal, just as though he were convicted under the law of treason.&quot;

Only one of the ex-consuls, Rubellius Blandus, supported Lepidus.
The rest voted with Agrippa. Priscus was dragged off to prison and
instantly put to death. Of this Tiberius complained to the Senate
with his usual ambiguity, extolling their loyalty in so sharply avenging
the very slightest insults to the sovereign, though he deprecated
such hasty punishment of mere words, praising Lepidus and not censuring
Agrippa. So the Senate passed a resolution that their decrees should
not be registered in the treasury till nine days had expired, and
so much respite was to be given to condemned persons. Still the Senate
had not liberty to alter their purpose, and lapse of time never softened
Tiberius. 

Caius Sulpicius and Didius Haterius were the next consuls. It was
a year free from commotions abroad, while at home stringent legislation
was apprehended against the luxury which had reached boundless excess
in everything on which wealth is lavished. Some expenses, though very
serious, were generally kept secret by a concealment of the real prices;
but the costly preparations for gluttony and dissipation were the
theme of incessant talk, and had suggested a fear that a prince who
clung to oldfashioned frugality would be too stern in his reforms.
In fact, when the aedile Caius Bibulus broached the topic, all his
colleagues had pointed out that the sumptuary laws were disregarded,
that prohibited prices for household articles were every day on the
increase, and that moderate measures could not stop the evil.

The Senate on being consulted had, without handling the matter, referred
it to the emperor. Tiberius, after long considering whether such reckless
tastes could be repressed, whether the repression of them would not
be still more hurtful to the State, also, how undignified it would
be to meddle with what he could not succeed in, or what, if effected,
would necessitate the disgrace and infamy of men of distinction, at
last addressed a letter to the Senate to the following purport:-

Perhaps in any other matter, Senators, it would be more convenient
that I should be consulted in your presence, and then state what I
think to be for the public good. In this debate it was better that
my eyes should not be on you, for while you were noting the anxious
faces of individual senators charged with shameful luxury, I too myself
might observe them and, as it were, detect them. Had those energetic
men, our aediles, first taken counsel with me, I do not know whether
I should not have advised them to let alone vices so strong and so
matured, rather than merely attain the result of publishing what are
the corruptions with which we cannot cope. They however have certainly
done their duty, as I would wish all other officials likewise to fulfil
their parts. For myself, it is neither seemly to keep silence nor
is it easy to speak my mind, as I do not hold the office of aedile,
praetor, or consul. Something greater and loftier is expected of a
prince, and while everybody takes to himself the credit of right policy,
one alone has to bear the odium of every person&apos;s failures. For what
am I first to begin with restraining and cutting down to the old standard?
The vast dimensions of country houses? The number of slaves of every
nationality? The masses of silver and gold? The marvels in bronze
and painting? The apparel worn indiscriminately by both sexes, or
that peculiar luxury of women which, for the sake of jewels, diverts
our wealth to strange or hostile nations? 

I am not unaware that people at entertainments and social gatherings
condemn all this and demand some restriction. But if a law were to
be passed and a penalty imposed, those very same persons will cry
out that the State is revolutionised, that ruin is plotted against
all our most brilliant fashion, that not a citizen is safe from incrimination.
Yet as even bodily disorders of long standing and growth can be checked
only by sharp and painful treatment, so the fever of a diseased mind,
itself polluted and a pollution to others, can be quenched only by
remedies as strong as the passions which inflame it. Of the many laws
devised by our ancestors, of the many passed by the Divine Augustus,
the first have been forgotten, while his (all the more to our disgrace)
have become obsolete through contempt, and this has made luxury bolder
than ever. The truth is, that when one craves something not yet forbidden,
there is a fear that it may be forbidden; but when people once transgress
prohibitions with impunity, there is no longer any fear or any shame.

Why then in old times was economy in the ascendant? Because every
one practised self-control; because we were all members of one city.
Nor even afterwards had we the same temptations, while our dominion
was confined to Italy. Victories over the foreigner taught us how
to waste the substance of others; victories over ourselves, how to
squander our own. What a paltry matter is this of which the aediles
are reminding us! What a mere trifle if you look at everything else!
No one represents to the Senate that Italy requires supplies from
abroad, and that the very existence of the people of Rome is daily
at the mercy of uncertain waves and storms. And unless masters, slaves,
and estates have the resources of the provinces as their mainstay,
our shrubberies, forsooth, and our country houses will have to support
us. 

Such, Senators, are the anxieties which the prince has to sustain,
and the neglect of them will be utter ruin to the State. The cure
for other evils must be sought in our own hearts. Let us be led to
amendment, the poor by constraint, the rich by satiety. Or if any
of our officials give promise of such energy and strictness as can
stem the corruption, I praise the man, and I confess that I am relieved
of a portion of my burdens. But if they wish to denounce vice, and
when they have gained credit for so doing they arouse resentments
and leave them to me, be assured, Senators, that I too am by no means
eager to incur enmities, and though for the public good I encounter
formidable and often unjust enmities, yet I have a right to decline
such as are unmeaning and purposeless and will be of use neither to
myself nor to you. 

When they had heard the emperor&apos;s letter, the aediles were excused
from so anxious a task, and that luxury of the table which from the
close of the war ended at Actium to the armed revolution in which
Servius Galba rose to empire, had been practised with profuse expenditure,
gradually went out of fashion. It is as well that I should trace the
causes of this change. 

Formerly rich or highly distinguished noble families often sank into
ruin from a passion for splendour. Even then men were still at liberty
to court and be courted by the city populace, by our allies and by
foreign princes, and every one who from his wealth, his mansion and
his establishment was conspicuously grand, gained too proportionate
lustre by his name and his numerous clientele. After the savage massacres
in which greatness of renown was fatal, the survivors turned to wiser
ways. The new men who were often admitted into the Senate from the
towns, colonies and even the provinces, introduced their household
thrift, and though many of them by good luck or energy attained an
old age of wealth, still their former tastes remained. But the chief
encourager of strict manners was Vespasian, himself old-fashioned
both in his dress and diet. Henceforth a respectful feeling towards
the prince and a love of emulation proved more efficacious than legal
penalties or terrors. Or possibly there is in all things a kind of
cycle, and there may be moral revolutions just as there are changes
of seasons. Nor was everything better in the past, but our own age
too has produced many specimens of excellence and culture for posterity
to imitate. May we still keep up with our ancestors a rivalry in all
that is honourable! 

Tiberius having gained credit for forbearance by the check he had
given to the growing terror of the informers, wrote a letter to the
Senate requesting the tribunitian power for Drusus. This was a phrase
which Augustus devised as a designation of supremacy, so that without
assuming the name of king or dictator he might have some title to
mark his elevation above all other authority. He then chose Marcus
Agrippa to be his associate in this power, and on Agrippa&apos;s death,
Tiberius Nero, that there might be no uncertainty as to the succession.
In this manner he thought to check the perverse ambition of others,
while he had confidence in Nero&apos;s moderation and in his own greatness.

Following this precedent, Tiberius now placed Drusus next to the throne,
though while Germanicus was alive he had maintained an impartial attitude
towards the two princes. However in the beginning of his letter he
implored heaven to prosper his plans on behalf of the State, and then
added a few remarks, without falsehood or exaggeration, on the character
of the young prince. He had, he reminded them, a wife and three children,
and his age was the same as that at which he had himself been formerly
summoned by the Divine Augustus to undertake this duty. Nor was it
a precipitate step; it was only after an experience of eight years,
after having quelled mutinies and settled wars, after a triumph and
two consulships, that he was adopted as a partner in trials already
familiar to him. 

The senators had anticipated this message and hence their flattery
was the more elaborate. But they could devise nothing but voting statues
of the two princes, shrines to certain deities, temples, arches and
the usual routine, except that Marcus Silanus sought to honour the
princes by a slur on the consulate, and proposed that on all monuments,
public or private, should be inscribed, to mark the date, the names,
not of the consuls, but of those who were holding the tribunitian
power. Quintus Haterius, when he brought forward a motion that the
decrees passed that day should be set up in the Senate House in letters
of gold, was laughed at as an old dotard, who would get nothing but
infamy out of such utterly loathsome sycophancy. 

Meantime Junius Blaesus received an extension of his government of
Africa, and Servius Maluginensis, the priest of Jupiter, demanded
to have Asia allotted to him. &quot;It was,&quot; he asserted, &quot;a popular error
that it was not lawful for the priests of Jupiter to leave Italy;
in fact, his own legal position differed not from that of the priests
of Mars and of Quirinus. If these latter had provinces allotted to
them, why was it forbidden to the priests of Jupiter? There were no
resolutions of the people or anything to be found in the books of
ceremonies on the subject. Pontiffs had often performed the rites
to Jupiter when his priest was hindered by illness or by public duty.
For seventy-five years after the suicide of Cornelius Merula no successor
to his office had been appointed; yet religious rites had not ceased.
If during so many years it was possible for there to be no appointment
without any prejudice to religion, with what comparative ease might
he be absent for one year&apos;s proconsulate? That these priests in former
days were prohibited by the pontiff from going into the provinces,
was the result of private feuds. Now, thank heaven, the supreme pontiff
was also the supreme man, and was influenced by no rivalry, hatred
or personal feeling.&quot; 

As the augur Lentulus and others argued on various grounds against
this view, the result was that they awaited the decision of the supreme
pontiff. Tiberius deferred any investigation into the priest&apos;s legal
position, but he modified the ceremonies which had been decreed in
honour of Drusus&apos;s tribunitian power with special censure on the extravagance
of the proposed inscription in gold, so contrary to national usage.
Letters also from Drusus were read, which, though studiously modest
in expression, were taken to be extremely supercilious. &quot;We have fallen
so low,&quot; people said, &quot;that even a mere youth who has received so
high an honour does not go as a worshipper to the city&apos;s gods, does
not enter the Senate, does not so much as take the auspices on his
country&apos;s soil. There is a war, forsooth, or he is kept from us in
some remote part of the world. Why, at this very moment, he is on
a tour amid the shores and lakes of Campania. Such is the training
of the future ruler of mankind; such the lesson he first learns from
his father&apos;s counsels. An aged emperor may indeed shrink from the
citizen&apos;s gaze, and plead the weariness of declining years and the
toils of the past. But, as for Drusus, what can be his hindrance but
pride?&quot; 

Tiberius meantime, while securing to himself the substance of imperial
power, allowed the Senate some shadow of its old constitution by referring
to its investigation certain demands of the provinces. In the Greek
cities license and impunity in establishing sanctuaries were on the
increase. Temples were thronged with the vilest of the slaves; the
same refuge screened the debtor against his creditor, as well as men
suspected of capital offences. No authority was strong enough to check
the turbulence of a people which protected the crimes of men as much
as the worship of the gods. 

It was accordingly decided that the different states were to send
their charters and envoys to Rome. Some voluntarily relinquished privileges
which they had groundlessly usurped; many trusted to old superstitions,
or to their services to the Roman people. It was a grand spectacle
on that day, when the Senate examined grants made by our ancestors,
treaties with allies, even decrees of kings who had flourished before
Rome&apos;s ascendancy, and the forms of worship of the very deities, with
full liberty as in former days, to ratify or to alter. 

First of all came the people of Ephesus. They declared that Diana
and Apollo were not born at Delos, as was the vulgar belief. They
had in their own country a river Cenchrius, a grove Ortygia, where
Latona, as she leaned in the pangs of labour on an olive still standing,
gave birth to those two deities, whereupon the grove at the divine
intimation was consecrated. There Apollo himself, after the slaughter
of the Cyclops, shunned the wrath of Jupiter; there too father Bacchus,
when victorious in war, pardoned the suppliant Amazons who had gathered
round the shrine. Subsequently by the permission of Hercules, when
he was subduing Lydia, the grandeur of the temple&apos;s ceremonial was
augmented, and during the Persian rule its privileges were not curtailed.
They had afterwards been maintained by the Macedonians, then by ourselves.

Next the people of Magnesia relied on arrangements made by Lucius
Scipio and Lucius Sulla. These generals, after respectively defeating
Antiochus and Mithridates, honoured the fidelity and courage of the
Magnesians by allowing the temple of Diana of the White Brow to be
an inviolable sanctuary. Then the people of Aphrodisia produced a
decree of the dictator Caesar for their old services to his party,
and those of Stratonicea, one lately passed by the Divine Augustus,
in which they were commended for having endured the Parthian invasion
without wavering in their loyalty to the Roman people. Aphrodisia
maintained the worship of Venus; Stratonicea, that of Jupiter and
of Diana of the Cross Ways. 

Hierocaesarea went back to a higher antiquity, and spoke of having
a Persian Diana, whose fane was consecrated in the reign of Cyrus.
They quoted too the names of Perperna, Isauricus, and many other generals
who had conceded the same sacred character not only to the temple
but to its precincts for two miles. Then came the Cyprians on behalf
of three shrines, the oldest of which had been set up by their founder
Aerias to the Paphian Venus, the second by his son Amathus to Venus
of Amathus, and the last to Jupiter of Salamis, by Teucer when he
fled from the wrath of his father Telamon. 

Audience was also given to embassies from other states. The senators
wearied by their multiplicity and seeing the party spirit that was
being roused, intrusted the inquiry to the consuls, who were to sift
each title and see if it involved any abuse, and then refer back the
entire matter to the Senate. Besides the states already mentioned,
the consuls reported that they had ascertained that at Pergamus there
was a sanctuary of Aesculapius, but that the rest relied on an origin
lost in the obscurity of antiquity. For example, the people of Smyrna
quoted an oracle of Apollo, which had commanded them to dedicate a
temple to Venus Stratonicis; and the islanders of Tenos, an utterance
from the same deity, bidding them consecrate a statue and a fane to
Neptune. Sardis preferred a more modern claim, a grant from the victorious
Alexander. So again Miletus relied on king Darius. But in each case
their religious worship was that of Diana or Apollo. The Cretans too
demanded a like privilege for a statue of the Divine Augustus. Decrees
of the Senate were passed, which though very respectful, still prescribed
certain limits, and the petitioners were directed to set up bronze
tablets in each temple, to be a sacred memorial and to restrain them
from sinking into selfish aims under the mask of religion.

About this time Julia Augusta had an alarming illness, which compelled
the emperor to hasten his return to Rome, for hitherto there had been
a genuine harmony between the mother and son, or a hatred well concealed.
Not long before, for instance, Julia in dedicating a statue to the
Divine Augustus near the theatre of Marcellus had inscribed the name
of Tiberius below her own, and it was surmised that the emperor, regarding
this as a slight on a sovereign&apos;s dignity, had brooded over it with
deep and disguised resentment. However the Senate now decreed supplications
to the gods and the celebration of the Great Games, which were to
be exhibited by the pontiffs, augurs, the colleges of the Fifteen
and of the Seven, with the Augustal Brotherhood. Lucius Apronius moved
that the heralds too should preside over these Games. This the emperor
opposed, distinguishing the peculiar privileges of the sacred guilds,
and quoting precedents. Never, he argued, had the heralds this dignity.
&quot;The Augustal priests were included expressly because their sacred
office was specially attached to the family for which vows were being
performed.&quot; 

My purpose is not to relate at length every motion, but only such
as were conspicuous for excellence or notorious for infamy. This I
regard as history&apos;s highest function, to let no worthy action be uncommemorated,
and to hold out the reprobation of posterity as a terror to evil words
and deeds. So corrupted indeed and debased was that age by sycophancy
that not only the foremost citizens who were forced to save their
grandeur by servility, but every exconsul, most of the ex-praetors
and a host of inferior senators would rise in eager rivalry to propose
shameful and preposterous motions. Tradition says that Tiberius as
often as he left the Senate-House used to exclaim in Greek, &quot;How ready
these men are to be slaves.&quot; Clearly, even he, with his dislike of
public freedom, was disgusted at the abject abasement of his creatures.

From unseemly flatteries they passed by degrees to savage acts. Caius
Silanus, pro-consul of Asia, was accused by our allies of extortion;
whereupon Mamercus Scaurus, an ex-consul, Junius Otho, a praetor,
Brutidius Niger, an aedile, simultaneously fastened on him and charged
him with sacrilege to the divinity of Augustus, and contempt of the
majesty of Tiberius, while Mamercus Scaurus quoted old precedents,
the prosecutions of Lucius Cotta by Scipio Africanus, of Servius Galba
by Cato the Censor and of Publius Rutilius by Scaurus. As if indeed
Scipio&apos;s and Cato&apos;s vengeance fell on such offences, or that of the
famous Scaurus, whom his great grandson, a blot on his ancestry, this
Mamercus was now disgracing by his infamous occupation. Junius Otho&apos;s
old employment had been the keeping of a preparatory school. Subsequently,
becoming a senator by the influence of Sejanus, he shamed his origin,
low as it was, by his unblushing effronteries. Brutidius who was rich
in excellent accomplishments, and was sure, had he pursued a path
of virtue, to reach the most brilliant distinction, was goaded on
by an eager impatience, while he strove to outstrip his equals, then
his superiors, and at last even his own aspirations. Many have thus
perished, even good men, despising slow and safe success and hurrying
on even at the cost of ruin to premature greatness. 

Gellius Publicola and Marcus Paconius, respectively quaestor and lieutenant
of Silanus, swelled the number of the accusers. No doubt was felt
as to the defendant&apos;s conviction for oppression and extortion, but
there was a combination against him, that must have been perilous
even to an innocent man. Besides a host of adverse Senators there
were the most accomplished orators of all Asia, who, as such, had
been retained for the prosecution, and to these he had to reply alone,
without any experience in pleading, and under that personal apprehension
which is enough to paralyse even the most practised eloquence. For
Tiberius did not refrain from pressing him with angry voice and look,
himself putting incessant questions, without allowing him to rebut
or evade them, and he had often even to make admissions, that the
questions might not have been asked in vain. His slaves too were sold
by auction to the state-agent, to be examined by torture. And that
not a friend might help him in his danger, charges of treason were
added, a binding guarantee for sealed lips. Accordingly he begged
a few days&apos; respite, and at last abandoned his defence, after venturing
on a memorial to the emperor, in which he mingled reproach and entreaty.

Tiberius, that his proceedings against Silanus might find some justification
in precedent, ordered the Divine Augustus&apos;s indictment of Volesus
Messala, also a proconsul of Asia, and the Senate&apos;s sentence on him
to be read. He then asked Lucius Piso his opinion. After a long preliminary
eulogy on the prince&apos;s clemency, Piso pronounced that Silanus ought
to be outlawed and banished to the island of Gyarus. The rest concurred,
with the exception of Cneius Lentulus, who, with the assent of Tiberius,
proposed that the property of Silanus&apos;s mother, as she was very different
from him, should be exempted from confiscation, and given to the son.

Cornelius Dolabella however, by way of carrying flattery yet further,
sharply censured the morals of Silanus, and then moved that no one
of disgraceful life and notorious infamy should be eligible for a
province, and that of this the emperor should be judge. &quot;Laws, indeed,&quot;
he said, &quot;punish crimes committed; but how much more merciful would
it be to individuals, how much better for our allies, to provide against
their commission.&quot; 

The emperor opposed the motion. &quot;Although,&quot; he said, &quot;I am not ignorant
of the reports about Silanus, still we must decide nothing by hearsay.
Many a man has behaved in a province quite otherwise than was hoped
or feared of him. Some are roused to higher things by great responsibility;
others are paralysed by it. It is not possible for a prince&apos;s knowledge
to embrace everything, and it is not expedient that he should be exposed
to the ambitious schemings of others. Laws are ordained to meet facts,
inasmuch as the future is uncertain. It was the rule of our ancestors
that, whenever there was first an offence, some penalty should follow.
Let us not revolutionise a wisely devised and ever approved system.
Princes have enough burdens, and also enough power. Rights are invariably
abridged, as despotism increases; nor ought we to fall back on imperial
authority, when we can have recourse to the laws.&quot; 

Such constitutional sentiments were so rare with Tiberius, that they
were welcomed with all the heartier joy. Knowing, as he did, how to
be forbearing, when he was not under the stimulus of personal resentment,
he further said that Gyarus was a dreary and uninhabited island, and
that, as a concession to the Junian family and to a man of the same
order as themselves, they might let him retire by preference to Cythnus.
This, he added, was also the request of Torquata, Silanus&apos;s sister,
a vestal of primitive purity. The motion was carried after a division.

Audience was next given to the people of Cyrene, and on the prosecution
of Ancharius Priscus, Caesius Cordus was convicted of extortion. Lucius
Ennius, a Roman knight, was accused of treason, for having converted
a statue of the emperor to the common use of silver plate; but the
emperor forbade his being put upon his trial, though Ateius Capito
openly remonstrated, with a show of independence. &quot;The Senate,&quot; he
said, &quot;ought not to have wrested from it the power of deciding a question,
and such a crime must not go unpunished. Granted that the emperor
might be indifferent to a personal grievance, still he should not
be generous in the case of wrongs to the commonwealth.&quot; Tiberius interpreted
the remark according to its drift rather than its mere expression,
and persisted in his veto. Capito&apos;s disgrace was the more conspicuous,
for, versed as he was in the science of law, human and divine, he
had now dishonoured a brilliant public career as well as a virtuous
private life. 

Next came a religious question, as to the temple in which ought to
be deposited the offering which the Roman knights had vowed to Fortune
of the Knights for the recovery of Augusta. Although that Goddess
had several shrines in Rome, there was none with this special designation.
It was ascertained that there was a temple so called at Antium, and
that all sacred rites in the towns of Italy as well as temples and
images of deities were under the jurisdiction and authority of Rome.
Accordingly the offering was placed at Antium. 

As religious questions were under discussion, the emperor now produced
his answer to Servius Maluginensis, Jupiter&apos;s priest, which he had
recently deferred, and read the pontifical decree, prescribing that
whenever illness attacked a priest of Jupiter, he might, with the
supreme pontiff&apos;s permission, be absent more than two nights, provided
it was not during the days of public sacrifice or more than twice
in the same year. This regulation of the emperor Augustus sufficiently
proved that a year&apos;s absence and a provincial government were not
permitted to the priests of Jupiter. There was also cited the precedent
of Lucius Metellus, supreme pontiff, who had detained at Rome the
priest Aulus Postumius. And so Asia was allotted to the exconsul next
in seniority to Maluginensis. 

About the same time Lepidus asked the Senate&apos;s leave to restore and
embellish, at his own expense, the basilica of Paulus, that monument
of the Aemilian family. Public-spirited munificence was still in fashion,
and Augustus had not hindered Taurus, Philippus, or Balbus from applying
the spoils of war or their superfluous wealth to adorn the capital
and to win the admiration of posterity. Following these examples,
Lepidus, though possessed of a moderate fortune, now revived the glory
of his ancestors. 

Pompeius&apos;s theatre, which had been destroyed by an accidental fire,
the emperor promised to rebuild, simply because no member of the family
was equal to restoring it, but Pompeius&apos;s name was to be retained.
At the same time he highly extolled Sejanus on the ground that it
was through his exertions and vigilance that such fury of the flames
had been confined to the destruction of a single building. The Senate
voted Sejanus a statue, which was to be placed in Pompeius&apos;s theatre.
And soon afterwards the emperor in honouring Junius Blaesus proconsul
of Africa, with triumphal distinctions, said that he granted them
as a compliment to Sejanus, whose uncle Blaesus was. 

Still the career of Blaesus merited such a reward. For Tacfarinas,
though often driven back, had recruited his resources in the interior
of Africa, and had become so insolent as to send envoys to Tiberius,
actually demanding a settlement for himself and his army, or else
threatening us with an interminable war. Never, it is said, was the
emperor so exasperated by an insult to himself and the Roman people
as by a deserter and brigand assuming the character of a belligerent.
&quot;Even Spartacus when he had destroyed so many consular armies and
was burning Italy with impunity, though the State was staggering under
the tremendous wars of Sertorius and Mithridates, had not the offer
of an honourable surrender on stipulated conditions; far less, in
Rome&apos;s most glorious height of power, should a robber like Tacfarinas
be bought off by peace and concessions of territory.&quot; He intrusted
the affair to Blaesus, who was to hold out to the other rebels the
prospect of laying down their arms without hurt to themselves, while
he was by any means to secure the person of the chief. Many surrendered
themselves on the strength of this amnesty. Before long the tactics
of Tacfarinas were encountered in a similar fashion. 

Unequal to us in solid military strength, but better in a war of surprises,
he would attack, would elude pursuit, and still arrange ambuscades
with a multitude of detachments. And so we prepared three expeditions
and as many columns. One of the three under the command of Cornelius
Scipio, Blaesus&apos;s lieutenant, was to stop the enemy&apos;s forays on the
Leptitani and his retreat to the Garamantes. In another quarter, Blaesus&apos;s
son led a separate force of his own, to save the villages of Cirta
from being ravaged with impunity. Between the two was the general
himself with some picked troops. By establishing redoubts and fortified
lines in commanding positions, he had rendered the whole country embarrassing
and perilous to the foe, for, whichever way he turned, a body of Roman
soldiers was in his face, or on his flank, or frequently in the rear.
Many were thus slain or surprised. 

Blaesus then further divided his triple army into several detachments
under the command of centurions of tried valour. At the end of the
summer he did not, as was usual, withdraw his troops and let them
rest in winter-quarters in the old province; but, forming a chain
of forts, as though he were on the threshold of a campaign, he drove
Tacfarinas by flying columns well acquainted with the desert, from
one set of huts to another, till he captured the chief&apos;s brother,
and then returned, too soon however for the welfare of our allies,
as there yet remained those who might renew hostilities.

Tiberius however considered the war as finished, and awarded Blaesus
the further distinction of being hailed &quot;Imperator&quot; by the legions,
an ancient honour conferred on generals who for good service to the
State were saluted with cheers of joyful enthusiasm by a victorious
army. Several men bore the title at the same time, without pre-eminence
above their fellows. Augustus too granted the name to certain persons;
and now, for the last time, Tiberius gave it to Blaesus.

Two illustrious men died that year. One was Asinius Saloninus, distinguished
as the grandson of Marcus Agrippa, and Asinius Pollio, as the brother
of Drusus and the intended husband of the emperor&apos;s granddaughter.
The other was Capito Ateius, already mentioned, who had won a foremost
position in the State by his legal attainments, though his grandfather
was but a centurion in Sulla&apos;s army, his father having been a praetor.
He was prematurely advanced to the consulship by Augustus, so that
he might be raised by the honour of this promotion above Labeo Antistius,
a conspicuous member of the same profession. That age indeed produced
at one time two brilliant ornaments of peace. But while Labeo was
a man of sturdy independence and consequently of wider fame, Capito&apos;s
obsequiousness was more acceptable to those in power. Labeo, because
his promotion was confined to the praetorship, gained in public favour
through the wrong; Capito, in obtaining the consulship, incurred the
hatred which grows out of envy. 

Junia too, the niece of Cato, wife of Caius Cassius and sister of
Marcus Brutus, died this year, the sixty-fourth after the battle of
Philippi. Her will was the theme of much popular criticism, for, with
her vast wealth, after having honourably mentioned almost every nobleman
by name, she passed over the emperor. Tiberius took the omission graciously
and did not forbid a panegyric before the Rostra with the other customary
funeral honours. The busts of twenty most illustrious families were
borne in the procession, with the names of Manlius, Quinctius, and
others of equal rank. But Cassius and Brutus outshone them all, from
the very fact that their likenesses were not to be seen.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

BOOK IV

A.D. 23-28 

The year when Caius Asinius and Caius Antistius were consuls was the
ninth of Tiberius&apos;s reign, a period of tranquillity for the State
and prosperity for his own house, for he counted Germanicus&apos;s death
a happy incident. Suddenly fortune deranged everything; the emperor
became a cruel tyrant, as well as an abettor of cruelty in others.
Of this the cause and origin was Aelius Sejanus, commander of the
praetorian cohorts, of whose influence I have already spoken. I will
now fully describe his extraction, his character, and the daring wickedness
by which he grasped at power. 

Born at Vulsinii, the son of Seius Strabo, a Roman knight, he attached
himself in his early youth to Caius Caesar, grandson of the Divine
Augustus, and the story went that he had sold his person to Apicius,
a rich debauchee. Soon afterwards he won the heart of Tiberius so
effectually by various artifices that the emperor, ever dark and mysterious
towards others, was with Sejanus alone careless and freespoken. It
was not through his craft, for it was by this very weapon that he
was overthrown; it was rather from heaven&apos;s wrath against Rome, to
whose welfare his elevation and his fall were alike disastrous. He
had a body which could endure hardships, and a daring spirit. He was
one who screened himself, while he was attacking others; he was as
cringing as he was imperious; before the world he affected humility;
in his heart he lusted after supremacy, for the sake of which he sometimes
lavish and luxurious, but oftener energetic and watchful, qualities
quite as mischievous when hypocritically assumed for the attainment
of sovereignty. 

He strengthened the hitherto moderate powers of his office by concentrating
the cohorts scattered throughout the capital into one camp, so that
they might all receive orders at the same moment, and that the sight
of their numbers and strength might give confidence to themselves,
while it would strike terror into the citizens. His pretexts were
the demoralisation incident to a dispersed soldiery, the greater effectiveness
of simultaneous action in the event of a sudden peril, and the stricter
discipline which would be insured by the establishment of an encampment
at a distance from the temptations of the city. As soon as the camp
was completed, he crept gradually into the affections of the soldiers
by mixing with them and addressing them by name, himself selecting
the centurions and tribunes. With the Senate too he sought to ingratiate
himself, distinguishing his partisans with offices and provinces,
Tiberius readily yielding, and being so biassed that not only in private
conversation but before the senators and the people he spoke highly
of him as the partner of his toils, and allowed his statues to be
honoured in theatres, in forums, and at the head-quarters of our legions.

There were however obstacles to his ambition in the imperial house
with its many princes, a son in youthful manhood and grown-up grandsons.
As it would be unsafe to sweep off such a number at once by violence,
while craft would necessitate successive intervals in crime, he chose,
on the whole, the stealthier way and to begin with Drusus, against
whom he had the stimulus of a recent resentment. Drusus, who could
not brook a rival and was somewhat irascible, had, in a casual dispute,
raised his fist at Sejanus, and, when he defended himself, had struck
him in the face. On considering every plan Sejanus thought his easiest
revenge was to turn his attention to Livia, Drusus&apos;s wife. She was
a sister of Germanicus, and though she was not handsome as a girl,
she became a woman of surpassing beauty. Pretending an ardent passion
for her, he seduced her, and having won his first infamous triumph,
and assured that a woman after having parted with her virtue will
hesitate at nothing, he lured her on to thoughts of marriage, of a
share in sovereignty, and of her husband&apos;s destruction. And she, the
niece of Augustus, the daughter-in-law of Tiberius, the mother of
children by Drusus, for a provincial paramour, foully disgraced herself,
her ancestors, and her descendants, giving up honour and a sure position
for prospects as base as they were uncertain. They took into their
confidence Eudemus, Livia&apos;s friend and physician, whose profession
was a pretext for frequent secret interviews. Sejanus, to avert his
mistress&apos;s jealousy, divorced his wife Apicata, by whom he had had
three children. Still the magnitude of the crime caused fear and delay,
and sometimes a conflict of plans. 

Meanwhile, at the beginning of this year, Drusus, one of the children
of Germanicus, assumed the dress of manhood, with a repetition of
the honours decreed by the Senate to his brother Nero. The emperor
added a speech with warm praise of his son for sharing a father&apos;s
affection to his brother&apos;s children. Drusus indeed, difficult as it
is for power and mutual harmony to exist side by side, had the character
of being kindly disposed or at least not unfriendly towards the lads.
And now the old plan, so often insincerely broached, of a progress
through the provinces, was again discussed. The emperor&apos;s pretext
was the number of veterans on the eve of discharge and the necessity
of fresh levies for the army. Volunteers were not forthcoming, and
even if they were sufficiently numerous, they had not the same bravery
and discipline, as it is chiefly the needy and the homeless who adopt
by their own choice a soldier&apos;s life. Tiberius also rapidly enumerated
the legions and the provinces which they had to garrison. I too ought,
I think, to go through these details, and thus show what forces Rome
then had under arms, what kings were our allies, and how much narrower
then were the limits of our empire. 

Italy on both seas was guarded by fleets, at Misenum and at Ravenna,
and the contiguous coast of Gaul by ships of war captured in the victory
of Actium, and sent by Augustus powerfully manned to the town of Forojulium.
But chief strength was on the Rhine, as a defence alike against Germans
and Gauls, and numbered eight legions. Spain, lately subjugated, was
held by three. Mauretania was king Juba&apos;s, who had received it as
a gift from the Roman people. The rest of Africa was garrisoned by
two legions, and Egypt by the same number. Next, beginning with Syria,
all within the entire tract of country stretching as far as the Euphrates,
was kept in restraint by four legions, and on this frontier were Iberian,
Albanian, and other kings, to whom our greatness was a protection
against any foreign power. Thrace was held by Rhoemetalces and the
children of Cotys; the bank of the Danube by two legions in Pannonia,
two in Moesia, and two also were stationed in Dalmatia, which, from
the situation of the country, were in the rear of the other four,
and, should Italy suddenly require aid, not to distant to be summoned.
But the capital was garrisoned by its own special soldiery, three
city, nine praetorian cohorts, levied for the most part in Etruria
and Umbria, or ancient Latium and the old Roman colonies. There were
besides, in commanding positions in the provinces, allied fleets,
cavalry and light infantry, of but little inferior strength. But any
detailed account of them would be misleading, since they moved from
place to place as circumstances required, and had their numbers increased
and sometimes diminished. 

It is however, I think, a convenient opportunity for me to review
the hitherto prevailing methods of administration in the other departments
of the State, inasmuch as that year brought with it the beginning
of a change for the worse in Tiberius&apos;s policy. In the first place,
public business and the most important private matters were managed
by the Senate: the leading men were allowed freedom of discussion,
and when they stooped to flattery, the emperor himself checked them.
He bestowed honours with regard to noble ancestry, military renown,
or brilliant accomplishments as a civilian, letting it be clearly
seen that there were no better men to choose. The consul and the praetor
retained their prestige; inferior magistrates exercised their authority;
the laws too, with the single exception of cases of treason, were
properly enforced. 

As to the duties on corn, the indirect taxes and other branches of
the public revenue, they were in the hands of companies of Roman knights.
The emperor intrusted his own property to men of the most tried integrity
or to persons known only by their general reputation, and once appointed
they were retained without any limitation, so that most of them grew
old in the same employments. The city populace indeed suffered much
from high prices, but this was no fault of the emperor, who actually
endeavoured to counteract barren soils and stormy seas with every
resource of wealth and foresight. And he was also careful not to distress
the provinces by new burdens, and to see that in bearing the old they
were safe from any rapacity or oppression on the part of governors.
Corporal punishments and confiscations of property were unknown.

The emperor had only a few estates in Italy, slaves on a moderate
scale, and his household was confined to a few freedmen. If ever he
had a dispute with a private person, it was decided in the law courts.
All this, not indeed with any graciousness, but in a blunt fashion
which often alarmed, he still kept up, until the death of Drusus changed
everything. While he lived, the system continued, because Sejanus,
as yet only in the beginning of his power, wished to be known as an
upright counsellor, and there was one whose vengeance he dreaded,
who did not conceal his hatred and incessantly complained &quot;that a
stranger was invited to assist in the government while the emperor&apos;s
son was alive. How near was the step of declaring the stranger a colleague!
Ambition at first had a steep path before it; when once the way had
been entered, zealous adherents were forthcoming. Already, at the
pleasure of the commander of the guards, a camp had been established;
the soldiers given into his hands; his statues were to be seen among
the monuments of Cneius Pompeius; his grandsons would be of the same
blood as the family of the Drusi. Henceforth they must pray that he
might have self-control, and so be contented.&quot; So would Drusus talk,
not unfrequently, or only in the hearing of a few persons. Even his
confidences, now that his wife had been corrupted, were betrayed.

Sejanus accordingly thought that he must be prompt, and chose a poison
the gradual working of which might be mistaken for a natural disorder.
It was given to Drusus by Lygdus, a eunuch, as was ascertained eight
years later. As for Tiberius, he went to the Senate house during the
whole time of the prince&apos;s illness, either because he was not afraid,
or to show his strength of mind, and even in the interval between
his death and funeral. Seeing the consuls, in token of their grief,
sitting on the ordinary benches, he reminded them of their high office
and of their proper place; and when the Senate burst into tears, suppressing
a groan, he revived their spirits with a fluent speech. &quot;He knew indeed
that he might be reproached for thus encountering the gaze of the
Senate after so recent an affliction. Most mourners could hardly bear
even the soothing words of kinsfolk or to look on the light of day.
And such were not to be condemned as weak. But he had sought a more
manly consolation in the bosom of the commonwealth.&quot; 

Then deploring the extreme age of Augusta, the childhood of his grandsons,
and his own declining years, he begged the Senate to summon Germanicus&apos;s
children, the only comfort under their present misery. The consuls
went out, and having encouraged the young princes with kind words,
brought them in and presented them to the emperor. Taking them by
the hand he said: &quot;Senators, when these boys lost their father, I
committed them to their uncle, and begged him, though he had children
of his own, to cherish and rear them as his own offspring, and train
them for himself and for posterity. Drusus is now lost to us, and
I turn my prayers to you, and before heaven and your country I adjure
you to receive into your care and guidance the great-grandsons of
Augustus, descendants of a most noble ancestry. So fulfil your duty
and mine. To you, Nero and Drusus, these senators are as fathers.
Such is your birth that your prosperity and adversity must alike affect
the State.&quot; 

There was great weeping at these words, and then many a benediction.
Had the emperor set bounds to his speech, he must have filled the
hearts of his hearers with sympathy and admiration. But he now fell
back on those idle and often ridiculed professions about restoring
the republic, and the wish that the consuls or some one else might
undertake the government, and thus destroyed belief even in what was
genuine and noble. 

The same honours were decreed to the memory of Drusus as to that of
Germanicus, and many more were added. Such is the way with flattery,
when repeated. The funeral with its procession of statues was singularly
grand. Aeneas, the father of the Julian house, all the Alban kings,
Romulus, Rome&apos;s founder, then the Sabine nobility, Attus Clausus,
and the busts of all the other Claudii were displayed in a long train.

In relating the death of Drusus I have followed the narrative of most
of the best historians. But I would not pass over a rumour of the
time, the strength of which is not even yet exhausted. Sejanus, it
is said, having seduced Livia into crime, next secured, by the foulest
means, the consent of Lygdus, the eunuch, as from his youth and beauty
he was his master&apos;s favourite, and one of his principal attendants.
When those who were in the secret had decided on the time and place
of the poisoning, Sejanus, with the most consummate daring, reversed
his plan, and, whispering an accusation against Drusus of intending
to poison his father, warned Tiberius to avoid the first draught offered
him as he was dining at his son&apos;s house. Thus deceived, the old emperor,
on sitting down to the banquet, took the cup and handed it to Drusus.
His suspicions were increased when Drusus, in perfect unconsciousness,
drank it off with youthful eagerness, apparently, out of fear and
shame, bringing on himself the death which he had plotted against
his father. 

These popular rumours, over and above the fact that they are not vouched
for by any good writer, may be instantly refuted. For who, with moderate
prudence, far less Tiberius with his great experience, would have
thrust destruction on a son, without even hearing him, with his own
hand too, and with an impossibility of returning to better thoughts.
Surely he would rather have had the slave who handed the poison, tortured,
have sought to discover the traitor, in short, would have been as
hesitating and tardy in the case of an only son hitherto unconvicted
of any crime, as he was naturally even with strangers. But as Sejanus
had the credit of contriving every sort of wickedness, the fact that
he was the emperor&apos;s special favourite, and that both were hated by
the rest of the world, procured belief for any monstrous fiction,
and rumour too always has a dreadful side in regard to the deaths
of men in power. Besides, the whole process of the crime was betrayed
by Apicata, Sejanus&apos;s wife, and fully divulged, under torture, by
Eudemus and Lygdus. No writer has been found sufficiently malignant
to fix the guilt on Tiberius, though every circumstance was scrutinized
and exaggerated. My object in mentioning and refuting this story is,
by a conspicuous example, to put down hearsay, and to request all
into whose hands my work shall come, not to catch eagerly at wild
and improbable rumours in preference to genuine history which has
not been perverted into romance. 

Tiberius pronounced a panegyric on his son before the Rostra, during
which the Senate and people, in appearance rather than in heart, put
on the expression and accents of sorrow, while they inwardly rejoiced
at the brightening future of the family of Germanicus. This beginning
of popularity and the ill-concealed ambition of their mother Agrippina,
hastened its downfall. Sejanus when he saw that the death of Drusus
was not avenged on the murderers and was no grief to the people, grew
bold in wickedness, and, now that his first attempt had succeeded,
speculated on the possibility of destroying the children of Germanicus,
whose succession to the throne was a certainty. There were three,
and poison could not be distributed among them, because of the singular
fidelity of their guardians and the unassailable virtue of Agrippina.
So Sejanus inveighed against Agrippina&apos;s arrogance, and worked powerfully
on Augusta&apos;s old hatred of her and on Livia&apos;s consciousness of recent
guilt, and urged both these women to represent to the emperor that
her pride as a mother and her reliance on popular enthusiasm were
leading her to dream of empire. Livia availed herself of the cunning
of accusers, among whom she had selected Julius Postumus, a man well
suited to her purpose, as he had an intrigue with Mutilia Prisca,
and was consequently in the confidence of Augusta, over whose mind
Prisca had great influence. She thus made her aged grandmother, whose
nature it was to tremble for her power, irreconcilably hostile to
her grandson&apos;s widow. Agrippina&apos;s friends too were induced to be always
inciting her proud spirit by mischievous talk. 

Tiberius meanwhile, who did not relax his attention to business, and
found solace in his work, occupied himself with the causes of citizens
at Rome and with petitions from allies. Decrees of the Senate were
passed at his proposal for relieving the cities of Cibyra and Aegium
in Asia and Achaia, which had suffered from earthquakes, by a remission
of three years&apos; tribute. Vibius Serenus too, proconsul of Further
Spain, was condemned for violence in his official capacity, and was
banished to the island of Amorgus for his savage temper. Carsidius
Sacerdos, accused of having helped our enemy Tacfarinas with supplies
of grain, was acquitted, as was also Caius Gracchus on the same charge.
Gracchus&apos;s father, Sempronius, had taken him when a mere child to
the island of Cercina to be his companion in exile. There he grew
up among outcasts who knew nothing of a liberal education, and after
a while supported himself in Africa and Sicily by petty trade. But
he did not escape the dangers of high rank. Had not his innocence
been protected by Aelius Lamia and Lucius Apronius, successive governors
of Africa, the splendid fame of that ill-starred family and the downfall
of his father would have dragged him to ruin. 

This year too brought embassies from the Greek communities. The people
of Samos and Cos petitioned for the confirmation of the ancient right
of sanctuary for the respective temples of Juno and Aesculapius. The
Samians relied on a decree of the Amphictyonic Council, which had
the supreme decision of all questions when the Greeks, through the
cities they had founded in Asia, had possession of the sea-coast.
Cos could boast equal antiquity, and it had an additional claim connected
with the place. Roman citizens had been admitted to the temple of
Aesculapius, when king Mithridates ordered a general massacre of them
throughout all the islands and cities of Asia. 

Next, after various and usually fruitless complaints from the praetors,
the emperor finally brought forward a motion about the licentious
behaviour of the players. &quot;They had often,&quot; he said, &quot;sought to disturb
the public peace, and to bring disgrace on private families, and the
old Oscan farce, once a wretched amusement for the vulgar, had become
at once so indecent and so popular, that it must be checked by the
Senate&apos;s authority. The players, upon this, were banished from Italy.

That same year also brought fresh sorrow to the emperor by being fatal
to one of the twin sons of Drusus, equally too by the death of an
intimate friend. This was Lucilius Longus, the partner of all his
griefs and joys, the only senator who had been the companion of his
retirement in Rhodes. And so, though he was a man of humble origin,
the Senate decreed him a censor&apos;s funeral and a statue in the forum
of Augustus at the public expense. Everything indeed was as yet in
the hands of the Senate, and consequently Lucilius Capito, procurator
of Asia, who was impeached by his province, was tried by them, the
emperor vehemently asserting &quot;that he had merely given the man authority
over the slaves and property of the imperial establishments; that
if he had taken upon himself the powers of a praetor and used military
force, he had disregarded his instructions; therefore they must hear
the provincials.&quot; So the case was heard and the accused condemned.
The cities of Asia, gratified by this retribution and the punishment
inflicted in the previous year on Caius Silanus, voted a temple to
Tiberius, his mother, and the Senate, and were permitted to build
it. Nero thanked the Senators and his grandfather on their behalf
and carried with him the joyful sympathies of his audience, who, with
the memory of Germanicus fresh in their minds, imagined that it was
his face they saw, his voice they heard. The youth too had a modesty
and a grace of person worthy of a prince, the more charming because
of his peril from the notorious enmity of Sejanus. 

About the same time the emperor spoke on the subject of electing a
priest of Jupiter in the room of Servius Maluginensis, deceased, and
of the enactment of a new law. &quot;It was,&quot; he said, &quot;the old custom
to nominate together three patricians, sons of parents wedded according
to the primitive ceremony, and of these one was to be chosen. Now
however there was not the same choice as formerly, the primitive form
of marriage having been given up or being observed only by a few persons.&quot;
For this he assigned several reasons, the chief being men&apos;s and women&apos;s
indifference; then, again, the ceremony itself had its difficulties,
which were purposely avoided; and there was the objection that the
man who obtained this priesthood was emancipated from the father&apos;s
authority, as also was his wife, as passing into the husband&apos;s control.
So the Senate, Tiberius argued, ought to apply some remedy by a decree
of a law, as Augustus had accommodated certain relics of a rude antiquity
to the modern spirit. 

It was then decided, after a discussion of religious questions, that
the institution of the priests of Jupiter should remain unchanged.
A law however was passed that the priestess, in regard to her sacred
functions, was to be under the husband&apos;s control, but in other respects
to retain the ordinary legal position of women. Maluginensis, the
son, was chosen successor to his father. To raise the dignity of the
priesthood and to inspire the priests with more zeal in attending
to the ceremonial, a gift of two million sesterces was decreed to
the Vestal Cornelia, chosen in the room of Scantia; and, whenever
Augusta entered the theatre, she was to have a place in the seats
of the Vestals. 

In the consulship of Cornelius Cethegus and Visellius Varro, the pontiffs,
whose example was followed by the other priests in offering prayers
for the emperor&apos;s health, commended also Nero and Drusus to the same
deities, not so much out of love for the young princes as out of sycophancy,
the absence and excess of which in a corrupt age are alike dangerous.
Tiberius indeed, who was never friendly to the house of Germanicus,
was then vexed beyond endurance at their youth being honoured equally
with his declining years. He summoned the pontiffs, and asked them
whether it was to the entreaties or the threats of Agrippina that
they had made this concession. And though they gave a flat denial,
he rebuked them but gently, for many of them were her own relatives
or were leading men in the State. However he addressed a warning to
the Senate against encouraging pride in their young and excitable
minds by premature honours. For Sejanus spoke vehemently, and charged
them with rending the State almost by civil war. &quot;There were those,&quot;
he said, &quot;who called themselves the party of Agrippina, and, unless
they were checked, there would be more; the only remedy for the increasing
discord was the overthrow of one or two of the most enterprising leaders.&quot;

Accordingly he attacked Caius Silius and Titius Sabinus. The friendship
of Germanicus was fatal to both. As for Silius, his having commanded
a great army for seven years, and won in Germany the distinctions
of a triumph for his success in the war with Sacrovir, would make
his downfall all the more tremendous and so spread greater terror
among others. Many thought that he had provoked further displeasure
by his own presumption and his extravagant boasts that his troops
had been steadfastly loyal, while other armies were falling into mutiny,
and that Tiberius&apos;s throne could not have lasted had his legions too
been bent on revolution. All this the emperor regarded as undermining
his own power, which seemed to be unequal to the burden of such an
obligation. For benefits received are a delight to us as long as we
think we can requite them; when that possibility is far exceeded,
they are repaid with hatred instead of gratitude. 

Silius had a wife, Sosia Galla, whose love of Agrippina made her hateful
to the emperor. The two, it was decided, were to be attacked, but
Sabinus was to be put off for a time. Varro, the consul, was let loose
on them, who, under colour of a hereditary feud, humoured the malignity
of Sejanus to his own disgrace. The accused begged a brief respite,
until the prosecutor&apos;s consulship expired, but the emperor opposed
the request. &quot;It was usual,&quot; he argued, &quot;for magistrates to bring
a private citizen to trial, and a consul&apos;s authority ought not to
be impaired, seeing that it rested with his vigilance to guard the
commonwealth from loss.&quot; It was characteristic of Tiberius to veil
new devices in wickedness under ancient names. And so, with a solemn
appeal, he summoned the Senate, as if there were any laws by which
Silius was being tried, as if Varro were a real consul, or Rome a
commonwealth. The accused either said nothing, or, if he attempted
to defend himself, hinted, not obscurely, at the person whose resentment
was crushing him. A long concealed complicity in Sacrovir&apos;s rebellion,
a rapacity which sullied his victory, and his wife Sosia&apos;s conduct,
were alleged against him. Unquestionably, they could not extricate
themselves from the charge of extortion. The whole affair however
was conducted as a trial for treason, and Silius forestalled impending
doom by a self-inflicted death. 

Yet there was a merciless confiscation of his property, though not
to refund their money to the provincials, none of whom pressed any
demand. But Augustus&apos;s bounty was wrested from him, and the claims
of the imperial exchequer were computed in detail. This was the first
instance on Tiberius&apos;s part of sharp dealing with the wealth of others.
Sosia was banished on the motion of Asinius Gallus, who had proposed
that half her estate should be confiscated, half left to the children.
Marcus Lepidus, on the contrary, was for giving a fourth to the prosecutors,
as the law required, and the remainder to the children. 

This Lepidus, I am satisfied, was for that age a wise and high-principled
man. Many a cruel suggestion made by the flattery of others he changed
for the better, and yet he did not want tact, seeing that he always
enjoyed an uniform prestige, and also the favour of Tiberius. This
compels me to doubt whether the liking of princes for some men and
their antipathy to others depend, like other contingencies, on a fate
and destiny to which we are born, or, to some degree, on our own plans;
so that it is possible to pursue a course between a defiant independence
and a debasing servility, free from ambition and its perils. Messalinus
Cotta, of equally illustrious ancestry as Lepidus, but wholly different
in disposition, proposed that the Senate should pass a decree providing
that even innocent governors who knew nothing of the delinquencies
of others should be punished for their wives&apos; offences in the provinces
as much as for their own. 

Proceedings were then taken against Calpurnius Piso, a high-spirited
nobleman. He it was, as I have related, who had exclaimed more than
once in the Senate that he would quit Rome because of the combinations
of the informers, and had dared in defiance of Augusta&apos;s power, to
sue Urgulania and summon her from the emperor&apos;s palace. Tiberius submitted
to this at the time not ungraciously, but the remembrance of it was
vividly impressed on a mind which brooded over its resentments, even
though the first impulse of his displeasure had subsided.

Quintus Granius accused Piso of secret treasonable conversation, and
added that he kept poison in his house and wore a dagger whenever
he came into the Senate. This was passed over as too atrocious to
be true. He was to be tried on the other charges, a multitude of which
were heaped on him, but his timely death cut short the trial.

Next was taken the case of Cassius Severus&apos; an exile. A man of mean
origin and a life of crime, but a powerful pleader, he had brought
on himself, by his persistent quarrelsomeness, a decision of the Senate,
under oath, which banished him to Crete. There by the same practices
he drew on himself, fresh odium and revived the old; stripped of his
property and outlawed, he wore out his old age on the rock of Seriphos.

About the same time Plautius Silvanus, the praetor, for unknown reasons,
threw his wife Apronia out of a window. When summoned before the emperor
by Lucius Apronius, his father-in-law, he replied incoherently, representing
that he was in a sound sleep and consequently knew nothing, and that
his wife had chosen to destroy herself. Without a moment&apos;s delay Tiberius
went to the house and inspected the chamber, where were seen the marks
of her struggling and of her forcible ejection. He reported this to
the Senate, and as soon as judges had been appointed, Urgulania, the
grandmother of Silvanus, sent her grandson a dagger. This was thought
equivalent to a hint from the emperor, because of the known intimacy
between Augusta and Urgulania. The accused tried the steel in vain,
and then allowed his veins to be opened. Shortly afterwards Numantina,
his former wife, was charged with having caused her husband&apos;s insanity
by magical incantations and potions, but she was acquitted.

This year at last released Rome from her long contest with the Numidian
Tacfarinas. Former generals, when they thought that their successes
were enough to insure them triumphal distinctions, left the enemy
to himself. There were now in Rome three laurelled statues, and yet
Tacfarinas was still ravaging Africa, strengthened by reinforcements
from the Moors, who, under the boyish and careless rule of Ptolemaeus,
Juba&apos;s son, had chosen war in preference to the despotism of freedmen
and slaves. He had the king of the Garamantes to receive his plunder
and to be the partner of his raids, not indeed with a regular army,
but with detachments of light troops whose strength, as they came
from a distance, rumour exaggerated. From the province itself every
needy and restless adventurer hurried to join him, for the emperor,
as if not an enemy remained in Africa after the achievements of Blaesus,
had ordered the ninth legion home, and Publius Dolabella, proconsul
that year, had not dared to retain it, because he feared the sovereign&apos;s
orders more than the risks of war. 

Tacfarinas accordingly spread rumours; that elsewhere also nations
were rending the empire of Rome and that therefore her soldiers were
gradually retiring from Africa, and that the rest might be cut off
by a strong effort on the part of all who loved freedom more than
slavery. He thus augmented his force, and having formed a camp, he
besieged the town of Thubuscum. Dolabella meanwhile collecting all
the troops on the spot, raised the siege at his first approach, by
the terror of the Roman name and because the Numidians cannot stand
against the charge of infantry. He then fortified suitable positions,
and at the same time beheaded some chiefs of the Musulamii, who were
on the verge of rebellion. Next, as several expeditions against Tacfarinas
had proved the uselessness of following up the enemy&apos;s desultory movements
with the attack of heavy troops from a single point, he summoned to
his aid king Ptolemaeus and his people, and equipped four columns,
under the command of his lieutenants and tribunes. Marauding parties
were also led by picked Moors, Dolabella in person directing every
operation. 

Soon afterwards news came that the Numidians had fixed their tents
and encamped near a half-demolished fortress, by name Auzea, to which
they had themselves formerly set fire, and on the position of which
they relied, as it was inclosed by vast forests. Immediately the light
infantry and cavalry, without knowing whither they were being led,
were hurried along at quick march. Day dawned, and with the sound
of trumpets and fierce shouts, they were on the half-asleep barbarians,
whose horses were tethered or roaming over distant pastures. On the
Roman side, the infantry was in close array, the cavalry in its squadrons,
everything prepared for an engagement, while the enemy, utterly surprised,
without arms, order, or plan, were seized, slaughtered, or captured
like cattle. The infuriated soldiers, remembering their hardships
and how often the longed-for conflict had been eluded, sated themselves
to a man with vengeance and bloodshed. The word went through the companies
that all were to aim at securing Tacfarinas, whom, after so many battles,
they knew well, as there would be no rest from war except by the destruction
of the enemy&apos;s leader. Tacfarinas, his guards slain round him, his
son a prisoner, and the Romans bursting on him from every side, rushed
on the darts, and by a death which was not unavenged, escaped captivity.

This ended the war. Dolabella asked for triumphal distinctions, but
was refused by Tiberius, out of compliment to Sejanus, the glory of
whose uncle Blaesus he did not wish to be forgotten. But this did
not make Blaesus more famous, while the refusal of the honour heightened
Dolabella&apos;s renown. He had, in fact, with a smaller army, brought
back with him illustrious prisoners and the fame of having slain the
enemy&apos;s leader and terminated the war. In his train were envoys from
the Garamantes, a rare spectacle in Rome. The nation, in its terror
at the destruction of Tacfarinas, and innocent of any guilty intention,
had sent them to crave pardon of the Roman people. And now that this
war had proved the zealous loyalty of Ptolemaeus, a custom of antiquity
was revived, and one of the Senators was sent to present him with
an ivory sceptre and an embroidered robe, gifts anciently bestowed
by the Senate, and to confer on him the titles of king, ally, and
friend. 

The same summer, the germs of a slave war in Italy were crushed by
a fortunate accident. The originator of the movement was Titus Curtisius,
once a soldier of the praetorian guard. First, by secret meetings
at Brundisium and the neighbouring towns, then by placards publicly
exhibited, he incited the rural and savage slave-population of the
remote forests to assert their freedom. By divine providence, three
vessels came to land for the use of those who traversed that sea.
In the same part of the country too was Curtius Lupus, the quaestor,
who, according to ancient precedent, had had the charge of the &quot;woodland
pastures&quot; assigned to him. Putting in motion a force of marines, he
broke up the seditious combination in its very first beginnings. The
emperor at once sent Staius, a tribune, with a strong detachment,
by whom the ringleader himself, with his most daring followers, were
brought prisoners to Rome where men already trembled at the vast scale
of the slave-establishments, in which there was an immense growth,
while the freeborn populace daily decreased. 

That same consulship witnessed a horrible instance of misery and brutality.
A father as defendant, a son as prosecutor, (Vibius Serenus was the
name of both) were brought before the Senate; the father, dragged
from exile in filth and squalor now stood in irons, while the son
pleaded for his guilt. With studious elegance of dress and cheerful
looks, the youth, at once accuser and witness, alleged a plot against
the emperor and that men had been sent to Gaul to excite rebellion,
further adding that Caecilius Cornutus, an ex-praetor, had furnished
money. Cornutus, weary of anxiety and feeling that peril was equivalent
to ruin, hastened to destroy himself. But the accused with fearless
spirit, looked his son in the face, shook his chains, and appealed
to the vengeance of the gods, with a prayer that they would restore
him to his exile, where he might live far away from such practices,
and that, as for his son, punishment might sooner or later overtake
him. He protested too that Cornutus was innocent and that his terror
was groundless, as would easily be perceived, if other names were
given up; for he never would have plotted the emperor&apos;s murder and
a revolution with only one confederate. 

Upon this the prosecutor named Cneius Lentulus and Seius Tubero, to
the great confusion of the emperor, at finding a hostile rebellion
and disturbance of the public peace charged on two leading men in
the state, his own intimate friends, the first of whom was in extreme
old age and the second in very feeble health. They were, however,
at once acquitted. As for the father, his slaves were examined by
torture, and the result was unfavourable to the accuser. The man,
maddened by remorse, and terror-stricken by the popular voice, which
menaced him with the dungeon, the rock, or a parricide&apos;s doom, fled
from Rome. He was dragged back from Ravenna, and forced to go through
the prosecution, during which Tiberius did not disguise the old grudge
he bore the exile Serenus. For after Libo&apos;s conviction, Serenus had
sent the emperor a letter, upbraiding him for not having rewarded
his special zeal in that trial, with further hints more insolent than
could be safely trusted to the easily offended ears of a despot. All
this Tiberius revived eight years later, charging on him various misconduct
during that interval, even though the examination by torture, owing
to the obstinacy of the slaves, had contradicted his guilt.

The Senate then gave their votes that Serenus should be punished according
to ancient precedent, when the emperor, to soften the odium of the
affair, interposed with his veto. Next, Gallus Asinius proposed that
he should be confined in Gyaros or Donusa, but this he rejected, on
the ground that both these islands were deficient in water, and that
he whose life was spared, ought to be allowed the necessaries of life.
And so Serenus was conveyed back to Amorgus. 

In consequence of the suicide of Cornutus, it was proposed to deprive
informers of their rewards whenever a person accused of treason put
an end to his life by his own act before the completion of the trial.
The motion was on the point of being carried when the emperor, with
a harshness contrary to his manner, spoke openly for the informers,
complaining that the laws would be ineffective, and the State brought
to the verge of ruin. &quot;Better,&quot; he said, &quot;to subvert the constitution
than to remove its guardians.&quot; Thus the informers, a class invented
to destroy the commonwealth, and never enough controlled even by legal
penalties, were stimulated by rewards. 

Some little joy broke this long succession of horrors. Caius Cominius,
a Roman knight, was spared by the emperor, against whom he was convicted
of having written libellous verses, at the intercession of his brother,
who was a Senator. Hence it seemed the more amazing that one who knew
better things and the glory which waits on mercy, should prefer harsher
courses. He did not indeed err from dulness, and it is easy to see
when the acts of a sovereign meet with genuine, and when with fictitious
popularity. And even he himself, though usually artificial in manner,
and though his words escaped him with a seeming struggle, spoke out
freely and fluently whenever he came to a man&apos;s rescue. 

In another case, that of Publius Suillius, formerly quaestor to Germanicus,
who was to be expelled from Italy on a conviction of having received
money for a judicial decision, he held that the man ought to be banished
to an island, and so intensely strong was his feeling that he bound
the Senate by an oath that this was a State necessity. The act was
thought cruel at the moment, but subsequently it redounded to his
honour when Suillius returned from exile. The next age saw him in
tremendous power and a venal creature of the emperor Claudius, whose
friendship he long used, with success, never for good. 

The same punishment was adjudged to Catus Firmius, a Senator, for
having (it was alleged) assailed his sister with a false charge of
treason. Catus, as I have related, had drawn Libo into a snare and
then destroyed him by an information. Tiberius remembering this service,
while he alleged other reasons, deprecated a sentence of exile, but
did not oppose his expulsion from the Senate. 

Much what I have related and shall have to relate, may perhaps, I
am aware, seem petty trifles to record. But no one must compare my
annals with the writings of those who have described Rome in old days.
They told of great wars, of the storming of cities, of the defeat
and capture of kings, or whenever they turned by preference to home
affairs, they related, with a free scope for digression, the strifes
of consuls with tribunes, land and corn-laws, and the struggles between
the commons and the aristocracy. My labours are circumscribed and
inglorious; peace wholly unbroken or but slightly disturbed, dismal
misery in the capital, an emperor careless about the enlargement of
the empire, such is my theme. Still it will not be useless to study
those at first sight trifling events out of which the movements of
vast changes often take their rise. 

All nations and cities are ruled by the people, the nobility, or by
one man. A constitution, formed by selection out of these elements,
it is easy to commend but not to produce; or, if it is produced, it
cannot be lasting. Formerly, when the people had power or when the
patricians were in the ascendant, the popular temper and the methods
of controlling it, had to be studied, and those who knew most accurately
the spirit of the Senate and aristocracy, had the credit of understanding
the age and of being wise men. So now, after a revolution, when Rome
is nothing but the realm of a single despot, there must be good in
carefully noting and recording this period, for it is but few who
have the foresight to distinguish right from wrong or what is sound
from what is hurtful, while most men learn wisdom from the fortunes
of others. Still, though this is instructive, it gives very little
pleasure. Descriptions of countries, the various incidents of battles,
glorious deaths of great generals, enchain and refresh a reader&apos;s
mind. I have to present in succession the merciless biddings of a
tyrant, incessant prosecutions, faithless friendships, the ruin of
innocence, the same causes issuing in the same results, and I am everywhere
confronted by a wearisome monotony in my subject matter. Then, again,
an ancient historian has but few disparagers, and no one cares whether
you praise more heartily the armies of Carthage or Rome. But of many
who endured punishment or disgrace under Tiberius, the descendants
yet survive; or even though the families themselves may be now extinct,
you will find those who, from a resemblance of character, imagine
that the evil deeds of others are a reproach to themselves. Again,
even honour and virtue make enemies, condemning, as they do, their
opposites by too close a contrast. But I return to my work.

In the year of the consulship of Cornelius Cossus and Asinius Agrippa,
Cremutius Cordus was arraigned on a new charge, now for the first
time heard. He had published a history in which he had praised Marcus
Brutus and called Caius Cassius the last of the Romans. His accusers
were Satrius Secundus and Pinarius Natta, creatures of Sejanus. This
was enough to ruin the accused; and then too the emperor listened
with an angry frown to his defence, which Cremutius, resolved to give
up his life, began thus:- 

&quot;It is my words, Senators, which are condemned, so innocent am I of
any guilty act; yet these do not touch the emperor or the emperor&apos;s
mother, who are alone comprehended under the law of treason. I am
said to have praised Brutus and Cassius, whose careers many have described
and no one mentioned without eulogy. Titus Livius, pre-eminently famous
for eloquence and truthfulness, extolled Cneius Pompeius in such a
panegyric that Augustus called him Pompeianus, and yet this was no
obstacle to their friendship. Scipio, Afranius, this very Cassius,
this same Brutus, he nowhere describes as brigands and traitors, terms
now applied to them, but repeatedly as illustrious men. Asinius Pollio&apos;s
writings too hand down a glorious memory of them, and Messala Corvinus
used to speak with pride of Cassius as his general. Yet both these
men prospered to the end with wealth and preferment. Again, that book
of Marcus Cicero, in which he lauded Cato to the skies, how else was
it answered by Caesar the dictator, than by a written oration in reply,
as if he was pleading in court? The letters Antonius, the harangues
of Brutus contain reproaches against Augustus, false indeed, but urged
with powerful sarcasm; the poems which we read of Bibaculus and Catullus
are crammed with invectives on the Caesars. Yet the Divine Julius,
the Divine Augustus themselves bore all this and let it pass, whether
in forbearance or in wisdom I cannot easily say. Assuredly what is
despised is soon forgotten; when you resent a thing, you seem to recognise
it.&quot; 

&quot;Of the Greeks I say nothing; with them not only liberty, but even
license went unpunished, or if a person aimed at chastising, he retaliated
on satire by satire. It has, however, always been perfectly open to
us without any one to censure, to speak freely of those whom death
has withdrawn alike from the partialities of hatred or esteem. Are
Cassius and Brutus now in arms on the fields of Philippi, and am I
with them rousing the people by harangues to stir up civil war? Did
they not fall more than seventy years ago, and as they are known to
us by statues which even the conqueror did not destroy, so too is
not some portion of their memory preserved for us by historians? To
every man posterity gives his due honour, and, if a fatal sentence
hangs over me, there will be those who will remember me as well as
Cassius and Brutus.&quot; 

He then left the Senate and ended his life by starvation. His books,
so the Senators decreed, were to be burnt by the aediles; but some
copies were left which were concealed and afterwards published. And
so one is all the more inclined to laugh at the stupidity of men who
suppose that the despotism of the present can actually efface the
remembrances of the next generation. On the contrary, the persecution
of genius fosters its influence; foreign tyrants, and all who have
imitated their oppression, have merely procured infamy for themselves
and glory for their victims. 

That year was such a continuous succession of prosecutions that on
the days of the Latin festival when Drusus, as city-prefect, had ascended
his tribunal for the inauguration of his office, Calpurnius Salvianus
appeared before him against Sextus Marius. This the emperor openly
censured, and it caused the banishment of Salvianus. Next, the people
of Cyzicus were accused of publicly neglecting the established worship
of the Divine Augustus, and also of acts of violence to Roman citizens.
They were deprived of the franchise which they had earned during the
war with Mithridates, when their city was besieged, and when they
repulsed the king as much by their own bravery as by the aid of Lucullus.
Then followed the acquittal of Fonteius Capito, the late proconsul
of Asia, on proof that charges brought against him by Vibius Serenus
were fictitious. Still this did not injure Serenus, to whom public
hatred was actually a protection. Indeed any conspicuously restless
informer was, so to say, inviolable; only the insignificant and undistinguished
were punished. 

About the same time Further Spain sent a deputation to the Senate,
with a request to be allowed, after the example of Asia, to erect
a temple to Tiberius and his mother. On this occasion, the emperor,
who had generally a strong contempt for honours, and now thought it
right to reply to the rumour which reproached him with having yielded
to vanity, delivered the following speech:- 

&quot;I am aware, Senators, that many deplore my want of firmness in not
having opposed a similar recent petition from the cities of Asia.
I will therefore both explain the grounds of my previous silence and
my intentions for the future. Inasmuch as the Divine Augustus did
not forbid the founding of a temple at Pergamos to himself and to
the city of Rome, I who respect as law all his actions and sayings,
have the more readily followed a precedent once approved, seeing that
with the worship of myself was linked an expression of reverence towards
the Senate. But though it may be pardonable to have allowed this once,
it would be a vain and arrogant thing to receive the sacred honour
of images representing the divine throughout all the provinces, and
the homage paid to Augustus will disappear if it is vulgarised by
indiscriminate flattery. 

&quot;For myself, Senators, I am mortal and limited to the functions of
humanity, content if I can adequately fill the highest place; of this
I solemnly assure you, and would have posterity remember it. They
will more than sufficiently honour my memory by believing me to have
been worthy of my ancestry, watchful over your interests, courageous
in danger, fearless of enmity, when the State required it. These sentiments
of your hearts are my temples, these my most glorious and abiding
monuments. Those built of stone are despised as mere tombs, if the
judgment of posterity passes into hatred. And therefore this is my
prayer to our allies, our citizens, and to heaven itself; to the last,
that, to my life&apos;s close, it grant me a tranquil mind, which can discern
alike human and divine claims; to the first, that, when I die, they
honour my career and the reputation of my name with praise and kindly
remembrance.&quot; 

Henceforth Tiberius even in private conversations persisted in showing
contempt for such homage to himself. Some attributed this to modesty;
many to self-distrust; a few to a mean spirit. &quot;The noblest men,&quot;
it was said, &quot;have the loftiest aspirations, and so Hercules and Bacchus
among the Greeks and Quirinus among us were enrolled in the number
of the gods. Augustus, did better, seeing that he had aspired. All
other things princes have as a matter of course; one thing they ought
insatiably to pursue, that their memory may be glorious. For to despise
fame is to despise merit.&quot; 

Sejanus meanwhile, dazed by his extravagant prosperity and urged on
too by a woman&apos;s passion, Livia now insisting on his promise of marriage,
addressed a memorial to the emperor. For it was then the custom to
apply to him by writing, even though he was at Rome. This petition
was to the following effect:- The kindness of Augustus, the father,
and then the many favourable testimonies of Tiberius, the son, had
engendered the habit of confiding his hopes and wishes to the ears
of emperors as readily as to those of the gods. The splendour of high
distinctions he had never craved; he had rather chosen watchings and
hardships, like one of the common soldiers, for the emperor&apos;s safety.
But there was one most glorious honour he had won, the reputation
of being worthy of an alliance with a Caesar. This was the first motive
of his ambition. As he had heard that Augustus, in marrying his daughter,
had even entertained some thoughts of Roman knights, so if a husband
were sought for Livia, he hoped Tiberius would bear in mind a friend
who would find his reward simply in the glory of the alliance. He
did not wish to rid himself of the duties imposed on him; he thought
it enough for his family to be secured against the unjust displeasure
of Agrippina, and this for the sake of his children. For, as for himself,
enough and more than enough for him would be a life completed while
such a sovereign still reigned. 

Tiberius, in reply, after praising the loyal sentiments of Sejanus
and briefly enumerating the favours he had bestowed on him, asked
time for impartial consideration, adding that while other men&apos;s plans
depended on their ideas of their own interest, princes, who had to
regulate their chief actions by public opinion, were in a different
position. &quot;Hence,&quot; he said, &quot;I do not take refuge in an answer which
it would be easy to return, that Livia can herself decide whether
she considers that, after Drusus, she ought again to marry or rather
to endure life in the same home, and that she has in her mother and
grandmother counsellors nearer and dearer to her. I will deal more
frankly. First, as to the enmity of Agrippina, I maintain that it
will blaze out more fiercely if Livia&apos;s marriage rends, so to say,
the house of the Caesars into two factions. Even as it is, feminine
jealousies break out, and my grandsons are torn asunder by the strife.
What will happen if the rivalry is rendered more intense by such a
marriage? For you are mistaken, Sejanus, if you think that you will
then remain in the same position, and that Livia, who has been the
wife of Caius Caesar and afterwards of Drusus, will have the inclination
to pass her old age with a mere Roman knight. Though I might allow
it, do you imagine it would be tolerated by those who have seen her
brother, her father, and our ancestors in the highest offices of state?
You indeed desire to keep within your station; but those magistrates
and nobles who intrude on you against your wishes and consult you
on all matters, openly give out that you have long overstepped the
rank of a knight and gone far beyond my father&apos;s friendships, and
from their dislike of you they also condemn me. But, you say, Augustus
had thoughts of giving his daughter to a Roman knight. Is it surprising
that, with so many distracting cares, foreseeing too the immense elevation
to which a man would be raised above others by such an alliance, he
talked of Caius Proculeius and certain persons of singularly quiet
life, wholly free from political entanglements? Still, if the hesitation
of Augustus is to influence us, how much stronger is the fact that
he bestowed his daughter on Marcus Agrippa, then on myself. All this,
as a friend, I have stated without reserve, but I will not oppose
your plans or those of Livia. My own earnest thoughts and the ties
with which I am still purposing to unite you to myself, I shall for
the present forbear to explain. This only I will declare, that nothing
is too grand to be deserved by your merits and your goodwill towards
me. When an opportunity presents itself, either in the Senate, or
in a popular assembly, I shall not be silent.&quot; 

Sejanus, no longer thinking of his marriage but filled with a deeper
alarm, rejoined by deprecating the whispers of suspicion, popular
rumour and the gathering storm of odium. That he might not impair
his influence by closing his doors on the throngs of his many visitors
or strengthen the hands of accusers by admitting them, he made it
his aim to induce Tiberius to live in some charming spot at a distance
from Rome. In this he foresaw several advantages. Access to the emperor
would be under his own control, and letters, for the most part being
conveyed by soldiers, would pass through his hands. Caesar too, who
was already in the decline of life, would soon, when enervated by
retirement, more readily transfer to him the functions of empire;
envy towards himself would be lessened when there was an end to his
crowded levies and the reality of power would be increased by the
removal of its empty show. So he began to declaim against the laborious
life of the capital, the bustling crowds and streaming multitudes,
while he praised repose and solitude, with their freedom from vexations
and misunderstandings, and their special opportunities for the study
of the highest questions. 

It happened that the trial at this time of Votienus Montanus, a popular
wit, convinced the hesitating Tiberius that he ought to shun all assemblies
of the Senate, where speeches, often true and offensive, were flung
in his very face. Votienus was charged with insulting expressions
towards the emperor, and while the witness, Aemilius, a military man,
in his eagerness to prove the case, repeated the whole story and amid
angry clamour struggled on with loud assertion, Tiberius heard the
reproaches by which he was assailed in secret, and was so deeply impressed
that he exclaimed that he would clear himself either at once or on
a legal inquiry, and the entreaties of friends, with the flattery
of the whole assembly, hardly restored his composure. As for Votienus,
he suffered the penalty of treason; but the emperor, clinging all
the more obstinately to the harshness with which he had been reproached
in regard to accused persons, punished Aquilia with exile for the
crime of adultery with Varius Ligur, although Lentulus Gaetulicus,
the consul-elect, had proposed that she should be sentenced under
the Julian law. He next struck off Apidius Merula from the register
of the Senate for not having sworn obedience to the legislation of
the Divine Augustus. 

Then a hearing was given to embassies from the Lacedaemonians and
Messenians on the question of the temple of Diana in the Marshes.
The Lacedaemonians asserted that it had been dedicated by their ancestors
and in their territory, and appealed to the records of their history
and the hymns of poets, but it had been wrested from, they said, by
the arms of the Macedonian Philip, with whom they had fought, and
subsequently restored by the decision of Caius Caesar and Marcus Antonius.
The Messenians, on the contrary, alleged the ancient division of the
Peloponnesus among the descendants of Hercules, in which the territory
of Denthelia (where the temple stood) had fallen to their king. Records
of this event still existed, engraven on stone and ancient bronze.
But if they were asked for the testimony of poetry and of history,
they had it, they said, in greater abundance and authenticity. Philip
had not decided arbitrarily, but according to fact, and king Antigonus,
as also the general Mummius, had pronounced the same judgment. Such
too had been the award of the Milesians to whom the arbitration had
been publicly entrusted, and, finally, of Atidius Geminus, the praetor
of Achaia. And so the question was decided in favour of the Messenians.

Next the people of Segesta petitioned for the restoration of the temple
of Venus at Mount Eryx, which had fallen to ruin from its antiquity.
They repeated the well-known story of its origin, which delighted
Tiberius. He undertook the work willingly, as being a kinsman of the
goddess. After this was discussed a petition from the city of Massilia,
and sanction given to the precedent of Publius Rutilius, who having
been legally banished from Rome, had been adopted as a citizen by
the people of Smyrna. Volcatius Moschus, also an exile, had been received
with a similar privilege by the inhabitants of Massilia, and had left
his property to their community, as being now his own country.

Two men of noble rank died in that year, Cneius Lentulus and Lucius
Domitius. It had been the glory of Lentulus, to say nothing of his
consulship and his triumphal distinctions over the Gaetuli, to have
borne poverty with a good grace, then to have attained great wealth,
which had been blamelessly acquired and was modestly enjoyed. Domitius
derived lustre from a father who during the civil war had been master
of the sea, till he united himself to the party of Antonius and afterwards
to that of Caesar. His grandfather had fallen in the battle of Pharsalia,
fighting for the aristocracy. He had himself been chosen to be the
husband of the younger Antonia, daughter of Octavia, and subsequently
led an army across the Elbe, penetrating further into Germany than
any Roman before him. For this achievement he gained triumphal honours.

Lucius Antonius too then died, of a most illustrious but unfortunate
family. His father, Julius Antonius, was capitally punished for adultery
with Julia, and the son, when a mere youth, was banished by Augustus,
whose sister&apos;s grandson he was, to the city of Massilia, where the
name of exile might be masked under that of student. Yet honour was
paid him in death, and his bones, by the Senate&apos;s decree, were consigned
to the sepulchre of the Octavii. 

While the same consuls were in office, an atrocious crime was committed
in Nearer Spain by a peasant of the Termestine tribe. Suddenly attacking
the praetor of the province, Lucius Piso, as he was travelling in
all the carelessness of peace, he killed him with a single wound.
He then fled on a swift horse, and reached a wooded country, where
he parted with his steed and eluded pursuit amid rocky and pathless
wilds. But he was soon discovered. The horse was caught and led through
the neighbouring villages, and its owner ascertained. Being found
and put to the torture that he might be forced to reveal his accomplices,
he exclaimed in a loud voice, in the language of his country, that
it was in vain to question him; his comrades might stand by and look
on, but that the most intense agony would not wring the truth from
him. Next day, when he was dragged back to torture, he broke loose
from his guards and dashed his head against a stone with such violence
that he instantly fell dead. It was however believed that Piso was
treacherously murdered by the Termestini. Some public money had been
embezzled, and he was pressing for its payment too rigorously for
the patience of barbarians. 

In the consulship of Lentulus Gaetulicus and Caius Calvisius, triumphal
distinctions were decreed to Poppaeus Sabinus, for a crushing defeat
of some Thracian tribes, whose wild life in the highlands of a mountainous
country made them unusually fierce. Besides their natural ferocity,
the rebellion had its origin in their scornful refusal to endure levies
and to supply our armies with their bravest men. Even native princes
they would obey only according to their caprice, and if they sent
aid, they used to appoint their own leaders and fight only against
their neighbours. A rumour had then spread itself among them that,
dispersed and mingled with other tribes, they were to be dragged away
to distant countries. Before however they took up arms, they sent
envoys with assurances of their friendship and loyalty, which, they
said, would continue, if they were not tried by any fresh burden.
But if they were doomed to slavery as a conquered people, they had
swords and young warriors and a spirit bent on freedom or resigned
to death. As they spoke, they pointed to fortresses amid rocks whither
they had conveyed their parents and their wives, and threatened us
with a difficult, dangerous and sanguinary war. 

Sabinus meantime, while he was concentrating his troops, returned
gentle answers; but on the arrival of Pomponius Labeo with a legion
from Moesia and of king Rhoemetalces with some reinforcements from
his subjects, who had not thrown off their allegiance, with these
and the force he had on the spot, he advanced on the enemy, who were
drawn up in some wooded defiles. Some ventured to show themselves
on the open hills; these the Roman general approached in fighting
order and easily dislodged them, with only a small slaughter of the
barbarians, who had not far to flee. In this position he soon established
a camp, and held with a strong detachment a narrow and unbroken mountain
ridge, stretching as far as the next fortress, which was garrisoned
by a large force of armed soldiers along with some irregulars. Against
the boldest of these, who after the manner of their country were disporting
themselves with songs and dances in front of the rampart, he sent
some picked archers, who, discharging distant volleys, inflicted many
wounds without loss to themselves. As they advanced, a sudden sortie
put them to the rout, and they fell back on the support of a Sugambrian
cohort, drawn up at no great distance by the Roman general, ready
for any emergency and as terrible as the foe, with the noise of their
war songs and the clashing of their arms. 

He then moved his camp near to the enemy, leaving in his former entrenchments
the Thracians who, as I have mentioned, were with us. These had permission
to ravage, burn, and plunder, provided they confined their forays
to daylight, and passed the night securely and vigilantly in their
camp. This at first they strictly observed. Soon they resigned themselves
to enjoyment, and, enriched by plunder, they neglected their guards,
and amid feasts and mirth sank down in the carelessness of the banquet,
of sleep and of wine. So the enemy, apprised of their heedlessness,
prepared two detachments, one of which was to attack the plunderers,
the other, to fall on the Roman camp, not with the hope of taking
it, but to hinder the din of the other battle from being heard by
our soldiers, who, with shouts and missiles around them, would be
all intent on their own peril. Night too was chosen for the movement
to increase the panic. Those however who tried to storm the entrenchment
of the legions were easily repulsed; the Thracian auxiliaries were
dismayed by the suddenness of the onset, for though some were lying
close to their lines, far more were straggling beyond them, and the
massacre was all the more savage, inasmuch as they were taunted with
being fugitives and traitors and bearing arms for their own and their
country&apos;s enslavement. 

Next day Sabinus displayed his forces in the plain, on the chance
of the barbarians being encouraged by the night&apos;s success to risk
an engagement. Finding that they did not quit the fortress and the
adjoining hills, he began a siege by means of the works which he had
opportunely began to construct; then he drew a fosse and stockade
enclosing an extent of four miles, and by degrees contracted and narrowed
his lines, with the view of cutting off their water and forage. He
also threw up a rampart, from which to discharge stones, darts, and
brands on the enemy, who was now within range. It was thirst however
which chiefly distressed them, for there was only one spring for the
use of a vast multitude of soldiers and non-combatants. Their cattle
too, penned up close to them, after the fashion of barbarians, were
dying of want of fodder; near them lay human bodies which had perished
from wounds or thirst, and the whole place was befouled with rotting
carcases and stench and infection. To their confusion was added the
growing misery of discord, some thinking of surrender, others of destruction
by mutual blows. Some there were who suggested a sortie instead of
an unavenged death, and these were all men of spirit, though they
differed in their plans. 

One of their chiefs, Dinis, an old man who well knew by long experience
both the strength and clemency of Rome, maintained that they must
lay down their arms, this being the only remedy for their wretched
plight, and he was the first to give himself up with his wife and
children to the conqueror. He was followed by all whom age or sex
unfitted for war, by all too who had a stronger love of life than
of renown. The young were divided between Tarsa and Turesis, both
of whom had resolved to fall together with their freedom. Tarsa however
kept urging them to speedy death and to the instant breaking off of
all hope and fear, and, by way of example, plunged his sword into
his heart. And there were some who chose the same death. Turesis and
his band waited for night, not without the knowledge of our general.
Consequently, the sentries were strengthened with denser masses of
troops. Night was coming on with a fierce storm, and the foe, one
moment with a tumultuous uproar, another in awful silence, had perplexed
the besiegers, when Sabinus went round the camp, entreating the men
not to give a chance to their stealthy assailants by heeding embarrassing
noises or being deceived by quiet, but to keep, every one, to his
post without moving or discharging their darts on false alarms.

The barbarians meanwhile rushed down with their bands, now hurling
at the entrenchments stones such as the hand could grasp, stakes with
points hardened by fire, and boughs lopped from oaks; now filling
up the fosses with bushes and hurdles and dead bodies, while others
advanced up to the breastwork with bridges and ladders which they
had constructed for the occasion, seized it, tore it down, and came
to close quarters with the defenders. Our soldiers on the other side
drove them back with missiles, repelled them with their shields, and
covered them with a storm of long siege-javelins and heaps of stones.
Success already gained and the more marked disgrace which would follow
repulse, were a stimulus to the Romans, while the courage of the foe
was heightened by this last chance of deliverance and the presence
of many mothers and wives with mournful cries. Darkness, which increased
the daring of some and the terror of others, random blows, wounds
not foreseen, failure to recognise friend or enemy, echoes, seemingly
in their rear, from the winding mountain valleys, spread such confusion
that the Romans abandoned some of their lines in the belief that they
had been stormed. Only however a very few of the enemy had broken
through them; the rest, after their bravest men had been beaten back
or wounded, were towards daybreak pushed back to the upper part of
the fortress and there at last compelled to surrender. Then the immediate
neighbourhood, by the voluntary action of the inhabitants, submitted.
The early and severe winter of Mount Haemus saved the rest of the
population from being reduced by assault or blockade. 

At Rome meanwhile, besides the shocks already sustained by the imperial
house, came the first step towards the destruction of Agrippina, Claudia
Pulchra, her cousin, being prosecuted by Domitius Afer. Lately a praetor,
a man of but moderate position and eager to become notorious by any
sort of deed, Afer charged her with unchastity, with having Furnius
for her paramour, and with attempts on the emperor by poison and sorcery.
Agrippina, always impetuous, and now kindled into fury by the peril
of her kinswoman, went straight to Tiberius and found him, as it happened,
offering a sacrifice to his father. This provoked an indignant outburst.
&quot;It is not,&quot; she exclaimed, &quot;for the same man to slay victims to the
Divine Augustus and to persecute his posterity. The celestial spirit
has not transferred itself to the mute statue; here is the true image,
sprung of heavenly blood, and she perceives her danger, and assumes
its mournful emblems. Pulchra&apos;s name is a mere blind; the only reason
for her destruction is that she has, in utter folly, selected Agrippina
for her admiration, forgetting that Sosia was thereby ruined.&quot; These
words wrung from the emperor one of the rare utterances of that inscrutable
breast; he rebuked Agrippina with a Greek verse, and reminded her
that &quot;she was not wronged because she was not a queen.&quot; Pulchra and
Furnius were condemned. Afer was ranked with the foremost orators,
for the ability which he displayed, and which won strong praise from
Tiberius, who pronounced him a speaker of natural genius. Henceforward
as a counsel for the defence or the prosecution he enjoyed the fame
of eloquence rather than of virtue, but old age robbed him of much
of his speaking power, while, with a failing intellect, he was still
impatient of silence. 

Agrippina in stubborn rage, with the grasp of disease yet on her,
when the emperor came to see her, wept long and silently, and then
began to mingle reproach and supplication. She begged him &quot;to relieve
her loneliness and provide her with a husband; her youth still fitted
her for marriage, which was a virtuous woman&apos;s only solace, and there
were citizens in Rome who would not disdain to receive the wife of
Germanicus and his children.&quot; But the emperor, who perceived the political
aims of her request, but did not wish to show displeasure or apprehension,
left her, notwithstanding her urgency, without an answer. This incident,
not mentioned by any historian, I have found in the memoirs of the
younger Agrippina, the mother of the emperor Nero, who handed down
to posterity the story of her life and of the misfortunes of her family.

Sejanus meanwhile yet more deeply alarmed the sorrowing and unsuspecting
woman by sending his agents, under the guise of friendship, with warnings
that poison was prepared for her, and that she ought to avoid her
father-in-law&apos;s table. Knowing not how to dissemble, she relaxed neither
her features nor tone of voice as she sat by him at dinner, nor did
she touch a single dish, till at last Tiberius noticed her conduct,
either casually or because he was told of it. To test her more closely,
he praised some fruit as it was set on the table and passed it with
his own hand to his daughter-in-law. This increased the suspicions
of Agrippina, and without putting the fruit to her lips she gave it
to the slaves. Still no remark fell from Tiberius before the company,
but he turned to his mother and whispered that it was not surprising
if he had decided on harsh treatment against one who implied that
he was a poisoner. Then there was a rumour that a plan was laid for
her destruction, that the emperor did not dare to attempt it openly,
and was seeking to veil the deed in secrecy. 

Tiberius, to divert people&apos;s talk, continually attended the Senate,
and gave an audience of several days to embassies from Asia on a disputed
question as to the city in which the temple before mentioned should
be erected. Eleven cities were rivals for the honour, of which they
were all equally ambitious, though they differed widely in resources.
With little variation they dwelt on antiquity of race and loyalty
to Rome throughout her wars with Perseus, Aristonicus, and other kings.
But the people of Hypaepa, Tralles, Laodicaea, and Magnesia were passed
over as too insignificant; even Ilium, though it boasted that Troy
was the cradle of Rome, was strong only in the glory of its antiquity.
There was a little hesitation about Halicarnassus, as its inhabitants
affirmed that for twelve hundred years their homes had not been shaken
by an earthquake and that the foundations of their temple were on
the living rock. Pergamos, it was thought, had been sufficiently honoured
by having a temple of Augustus in the city, on which very fact they
relied. The Ephesians and Milesians had, it seemed, wholly devoted
their respective towns to the worships of Apollo and Diana. And so
the question lay between Sardis and Smyrna. The envoys from Sardis
read a decree of the Etrurians, with whom they claimed kindred. &quot;Tyrrhenus
and Lydus,&quot; it was said, &quot;the sons of King Atys, divided the nation
between them because of its multitude; Lydus remained in the country
of his fathers; Tyrrhenus had the work assigned him of establishing
new settlements, and names, taken from the two leaders, were given
to the one people in Asia and to the other in Italy. The resources
of the Lydians were yet further augmented by the immigration of nations
into that part of Greece which afterwards took its name from Pelops.&quot;
They spoke too of letters from Roman generals, of treaties concluded
with us during the Macedonian war, and of their copious rivers, of
their climate, and the rich countries round them. 

The envoys from Smyrna, after tracing their city&apos;s antiquity back
to such founders as either Tantalus, the son of Jupiter, or Theseus,
also of divine origin, or one of the Amazons, passed on to that on
which they chiefly relied, their services to the Roman people, whom
they had helped with naval armaments, not only in wars abroad, but
in those under which we struggled in Italy. They had also been the
first, they said, to build a temple in honour of Rome, during the
consulship of Marcus Porcius Cato, when Rome&apos;s power indeed was great,
but not yet raised to the highest point, inasmuch as the Punic capital
was still standing and there were mighty kings in Asia. They appealed
too to the of Lucius Sulla, whose army was once in terrible jeopardy
from a severe winter and want of clothing, and this having been announced
at Smyrna in a public assembly, all who were present stript their
clothes off their backs and sent them to our legions. And so the Senate,
when the question was put, gave the preference to Smyrna. Vibius Marsus
moved that Marcus Lepidus, to whom the province of Asia had been assigned,
should have under him a special commissioner to undertake the charge
of this temple. As Lepidus himself, out of modesty, declined to appoint,
Valerius Naso, one of the ex-praetors, was chosen by lot and sent
out. 

Meanwhile, after long reflection on his purpose and frequent deferment
of it, the emperor retired into Campania to dedicate, as he pretended,
a temple to Jupiter at Capua and another to Augustus at Nola, but
really resolved to live at a distance from Rome. Although I have followed
most historians in attributing the cause of his retirement to the
arts of Sejanus, still, as he passed six consecutive years in the
same solitude after that minister&apos;s destruction, I am often in doubt
whether it is not to be more truly ascribed to himself, and his wish
to hide by the place of his retreat the cruelty and licentiousness
which he betrayed by his actions. Some thought that in his old age
he was ashamed of his personal appearance. He had indeed a tall, singularly
slender and stooping figure, a bald head, a face full of eruptions,
and covered here and there with plasters. In the seclusion of Rhodes
he had habituated himself to shun society and to hide his voluptuous
life. According to one account his mother&apos;s domineering temper drove
him away; he was weary of having her as his partner in power, and
he could not thrust her aside, because he had received this very power
as her gift. For Augustus had had thoughts of putting the Roman state
under Germanicus, his sister&apos;s grandson, whom all men esteemed, but
yielding to his wife&apos;s entreaties he left Germanicus to be adopted
by Tiberius and adopted Tiberius himself. With this Augusta would
taunt her son, and claim back what she had given. 

His departure was attended by a small retinue, one senator, who was
an ex-consul, Cocceius Nerva, learned in the laws, one Roman knight,
besides Sejanus, of the highest order, Curtius Atticus, the rest being
men of liberal culture, for the most part Greeks, in whose conversation
he might find amusement. It was said by men who knew the stars that
the motions of the heavenly bodies when Tiberius left Rome were such
as to forbid the possibility of his return. This caused ruin for many
who conjectured that his end was near and spread the rumour; for they
never foresaw the very improbable contingency of his voluntary exile
from his home for eleven years. Soon afterwards it was clearly seen
what a narrow margin there is between such science and delusion and
in what obscurity truth is veiled. That he would not return to Rome
was not a mere random assertion; as to the rest, they were wholly
in the dark, seeing that he lived to extreme old age in the country
or on the coast near Rome and often close to the very walls of the
city. 

It happened at this time that a perilous accident which occurred to
the emperor strengthened vague rumours and gave him grounds for trusting
more fully in the friendship and fidelity of Sejanus. They were dining
in a country house called &quot;The Cave,&quot; between the gulf of Amuclae
and the hills of Fundi, in a natural grotto. The rocks at its entrance
suddenly fell in and crushed some of the attendants; there upon panic
seized the whole company and there was a general flight of the guests.
Sejanus hung over the emperor, and with knee, face, and hand encountered
the falling stones; and was found in this attitude by the soldiers
who came to their rescue. After this he was greater than ever, and
though his counsels were ruinous, he was listened to with confidence,
as a man who had no care for himself. He pretended to act as a judge
towards the children of Germanicus, after having suborned persons
to assume the part of prosecutors and to inveigh specially against
Nero, next in succession to the throne, who, though he had proper
youthful modesty, often forgot present expediency, while freedmen
and clients, eager to get power, incited him to display vigour and
self-confidence. &quot;This,&quot; they said, &quot;was what the Roman people wished,
what the armies desired, and Sejanus would not dare to oppose it,
though now he insulted alike the tame spirit of the old emperor and
the timidity of the young prince.&quot; 

Nero, while he listened to this and like talk, was not indeed inspired
with any guilty ambition, but still occasionally there would break
from him wilful and thoughtless expressions which spies about his
person caught up and reported with exaggeration, and this he had no
opportunity of rebutting. Then again alarms under various forms were
continually arising. One man would avoid meeting him; another after
returning his salutation would instantly turn away; many after beginning
a conversation would instantly break it off, while Sejanus&apos;s friends
would stand their ground and laugh at him. Tiberius indeed wore an
angry frown or a treacherous smile. Whether the young prince spoke
or held his tongue, silence and speech were alike criminal. Every
night had its anxieties, for his sleepless hours, his dreams and sighs
were all made known by his wife to her mother Livia and by Livia to
Sejanus. Nero&apos;s brother Drusus Sejanus actually drew into his scheme
by holding out to him the prospect of becoming emperor through the
removal of an elder brother, already all but fallen. The savage temper
of Drusus, to say nothing of lust of power and the usual feuds between
brothers, was inflamed with envy by the partiality of the mother Agrippina
towards Nero. And yet Sejanus, while he favoured Drusus, was not without
thoughts of sowing the seeds of his future ruin, well knowing how
very impetuous he was and therefore the more exposed to treachery.

Towards the close of the year died two distinguished men, Asinius
Agrippa and Quintus Haterius. Agrippa was of illustrious rather than
ancient ancestry, which his career did not disgrace; Haterius was
of a senatorian family and famous for his eloquence while he lived,
though the monuments which remain of his genius are not admired as
of old. The truth is he succeeded more by vehemence than by finish
of style. While the research and labours of other authors are valued
by an after age, the harmonious fluency of Haterius died with him.

In the year of the consulship of Marcus Licinius and Lucius Calpurnius,
the losses of a great war were matched by an unexpected disaster,
no sooner begun than ended. One Atilius, of the freedman class, having
undertaken to build an amphitheatre at Fidena for the exhibition of
a show of gladiators, failed to lay a solid foundation to frame the
wooden superstructure with beams of sufficient strength; for he had
neither an abundance of wealth, nor zeal for public popularity, but
he had simply sought the work for sordid gain. Thither flocked all
who loved such sights and who during the reign of Tiberius had been
wholly debarred from such amusements; men and women of every age crowding
to the place because it was near Rome. And so the calamity was all
the more fatal. The building was densely crowded; then came a violent
shock, as it fell inwards or spread outwards, precipitating and burying
an immense multitude which was intently gazing on the show or standing
round. Those who were crushed to death in the first moment of the
accident had at least under such dreadful circumstances the advantage
of escaping torture. More to be pitied were they who with limbs torn
from them still retained life, while they recognised their wives and
children by seeing them during the day and by hearing in the night
their screams and groans. Soon all the neighbours in their excitement
at the report were bewailing brothers, kinsmen or parents. Even those
whose friends or relatives were away from home for quite a different
reason, still trembled for them, and as it was not yet known who had
been destroyed by the crash, suspense made the alarm more widespread.

As soon as they began to remove the debris, there was a rush to see
the lifeless forms and much embracing and kissing. Often a dispute
would arise, when some distorted face, bearing however a general resemblance
of form and age, had baffled their efforts at recognition. Fifty thousand
persons were maimed or destroyed in this disaster. For the future
it was provided by a decree of the Senate that no one was to exhibit
a show of gladiators, whose fortune fell short of four hundred thousand
sesterces, and that no amphitheatre was to be erected except on a
foundation, the solidity of which had been examined. Atilius was banished.
At the moment of the calamity the nobles threw open houses and supplied
indiscriminately medicines and physicians, so that Rome then, notwithstanding
her sorrowful aspect, wore a likeness to the manners of our forefathers
who after a great battle always relieved the wounded with their bounty
and attentions. 

This disaster was not forgotten when a furious conflagration damaged
the capital to an unusual extent, reducing Mount Caelius to ashes.
&quot;It was an ill-starred year,&quot; people began to say, &quot;and the emperor&apos;s
purpose of leaving Rome must have been formed under evil omens.&quot; They
began in vulgar fashion to trace ill-luck to guilt, when Tiberius
checked them by distributing money in proportion to losses sustained.
He received a vote of thanks in the Senate from its distinguished
members, and was applauded by the populace for having assisted with
his liberality, without partiality or the solicitations of friends,
strangers whom he had himself sought out. And proposals were also
made that Mount Caelius should for the future be called Mount Augustus,
inasmuch as when all around was in flames only a single statue of
Tiberius in the house of one Junius, a senator, had remained uninjured.
This, it was said, had formerly happened to Claudia Quinta; her statue,
which had twice escaped the violence of fire, had been dedicated by
our ancestors in the temple of the Mother of Gods; hence the Claudii
had been accounted sacred and numbered among deities, and so additional
sanctity ought to be given to a spot where heaven showed such honour
to the emperor. 

It will not be uninteresting to mention that Mount Caelius was anciently
known by the name of Querquetulanus, because it grew oak timber in
abundance and was afterwards called Caelius by Caeles Vibenna, who
led the Etruscan people to the aid of Rome and had the place given
him as a possession by Tarquinius Priscus or by some other of the
kings. As to that point historians differ; as to the rest, it is beyond
a question that Vibenna&apos;s numerous forces established themselves in
the plain beneath and in the neighbourhood of the forum, and that
the Tuscan street was named after these strangers. 

But though the zeal of the nobles and the bounty of the prince brought
relief to suffering, yet every day a stronger and fiercer host of
informers pursued its victims, without one alleviating circumstance.
Quintilius Varus, a rich man and related to the emperor, was suddenly
attacked by Domitius Afer, the successful prosecutor of Claudia Pulchra,
his mother, and no one wondered that the needy adventurer of many
years who had squandered his lately gotten recompense was now preparing
himself for fresh iniquities. That Publius Dolabella should have associated
himself in the prosecution was a marvel, for he was of illustrious
ancestry, was allied to Varus, and was now himself seeking to destroy
his own noble race, his own kindred. The Senate however stopped the
proceeding, and decided to wait for the emperor, this being the only
means of escaping for a time impending horrors. 

Caesar, meanwhile, after dedicating the temples in Campania, warned
the public by an edict not to disturb his retirement and posted soldiers
here and there to keep off the throngs of townsfolk. But he so loathed
the towns and colonies and, in short, every place on the mainland,
that he buried himself in the island of Capreae which is separated
by three miles of strait from the extreme point of the promontory
of Sorrentum. The solitude of the place was, I believe, its chief
attraction, for a harbourless sea surrounds it and even for a small
vessel it has but few safe retreats, nor can any one land unknown
to the sentries. Its air in winter is soft, as it is screened by a
mountain which is a protection against cutting winds. In summer it
catches the western breezes, and the open sea round it renders it
most delightful. It commanded too a prospect of the most lovely bay,
till Vesuvius, bursting into flames, changed the face of the country.
Greeks, so tradition says, occupied those parts and Capreae was inhabited
by the Teleboi. Tiberius had by this time filled the island with twelve
country houses, each with a grand name and a vast structure of its
own. Intent as he had once been on the cares of state, he was now
for thoroughly unbending himself in secret profligacy and a leisure
of malignant schemes. For he still retained that rash proneness to
suspect and to believe, which even at Rome Sejanus used to foster,
and which he here excited more keenly, no longer concealing his machinations
against Agrippina and Nero. Soldiers hung about them, and every message,
every visit, their public and their private life were I may say regularly
chronicled. And persons were actually suborned to advise them to flee
to the armies of Germany, or when the Forum was most crowded, to clasp
the statue of statue of the Divine Augustus and appeal to the protection
of the people and Senate. These counsels they disdained, but they
were charged with having had thoughts of acting on them.

The year of the consulship of Silanus and Silius Nerva opened with
a foul beginning. A Roman knight of the highest rank, Titius Sabinus,
was dragged to prison because he had been a friend of Germanicus.
He had indeed persisted in showing marked respect towards his wife
and children, as their visitor at home, their companion in public,
the solitary survivor of so many clients, and he was consequently
esteemed by the good, as he was a terror to the evil-minded. Latinius
Latiaris, Porcius Cato, Petitius Rufus, and Marcus Opsius, ex-praetors,
conspired to attack him, with an eye to the consulship, to which there
was access only through Sejanus, and the good will of Sejanus was
to be gained only by a crime. They arranged amongst themselves that
Latiaris, who had some slight acquaintance with Sabinus, should devise
the plot, that the rest should be present as witnesses, and that then
they should begin the prosecution. Accordingly Latiaris, after first
dropping some casual remarks, went on to praise the fidelity of Sabinus
in not having, like others, forsaken after its fall the house of which
he had been the friend in its prosperity. He also spoke highly of
Germanicus and compassionately of Agrippina. Sabinus, with the natural
softness of the human heart under calamity, burst into tears, which
he followed up with complaints, and soon with yet more daring invective
against Sejanus, against his cruelty, pride and ambition. He did not
spare even Tiberius in his reproaches. That conversation, having united
them, as it were, in an unlawful secret, led to a semblance of close
intimacy. Henceforward Sabinus himself sought Latiaris, went continually
to his house, and imparted to him his griefs, as to a most faithful
friend. 

The men whom I have named now consulted how these conversations might
fall within the hearing of more persons. It was necessary that the
place of meeting should preserve the appearance of secrecy, and, if
witnesses were to stand behind the doors, there was a fear of their
being seen or heard, or of suspicion casually arising. Three senators
thrust themselves into the space between the roof and ceiling, a hiding-place
as shameful as the treachery was execrable. They applied their ears
to apertures and crevices. Latiaris meanwhile having met Sabinus in
the streets, drew him to his house and to the room, as if he was going
to communicate some fresh discoveries. There he talked much about
past and impending troubles, a copious topic indeed, and about fresh
horrors. Sabinus spoke as before and at greater length, as sorrow,
when once it has broken into utterance, is the harder to restrain.
Instantly they hastened to accuse him, and having despatched a letter
to the emperor, they informed him of the order of the plot and of
their own infamy. Never was Rome more distracted and terror-stricken.
Meetings, conversations, the ear of friend and stranger were alike
shunned; even things mute and lifeless, the very roofs and walls,
were eyed with suspicion. 

The emperor in his letter on the first of January, after offering
the usual prayers for the new year, referred to Sabinus, whom he reproached
with having corrupted some of his freedmen and having attempted his
life, and he claimed vengeance in no obscure language. It was decreed
without hesitation, and the condemned man was dragged off, exclaiming
as loudly as he could, with head covered and throat tightly bound,
&quot;that this was inaugurating the year; these were the victims slain
to Sejanus.&quot; Wherever he turned his eyes, wherever his words fell,
there was flight and solitude; the streets and public places were
forsaken. A few retraced their steps and again showed themselves,
shuddering at the mere fact that they had betrayed alarm. &quot;What day,&quot;
they asked, &quot;will be without some execution, when amid sacrifices
and prayers, a time when it is usual to refrain even from a profane
word, the chain and halter are introduced? Tiberius has not incurred
such odium blindly; this is a studied device to make us believe that
there is no reason why the new magistrates should not open the dungeons
as well as the temple and the altars.&quot; Thereupon there came a letter
of thanks to them for having punished a bitter foe to the State, and
the emperor further added that he had an anxious life, that he apprehended
treachery from enemies, but he mentioned no one by name. Still there
was no question that this was aimed at Nero and Agrippina.

But for my plan of referring each event to its own year, I should
feel a strong impulse to anticipate matters and at once relate the
deaths by which Latinius and Opsius and the other authors of this
atrocious deed perished, some after Caius became emperor, some even
while Tiberius yet ruled. For although he would not have the instruments
of his wickedness destroyed by others, he frequently, when he was
tired of them, and fresh ones offered themselves for the same services,
flung off the old, now become a mere incubus. But these and other
punishments of guilty men I shall describe in due course.

Asinius Gallus, to whose children Agrippina was aunt, then moved that
the emperor should be requested to disclose his apprehensions to the
Senate and allow their removal. Of all his virtues, as he counted
them, there was none on which Tiberius so prided himself as his ability
to dissemble, and he was therefore the more irritated at an attempt
to expose what he was hiding. Sejanus however pacified him, not out
of love for Gallus, but rather to wait the result of the emperor&apos;s
wavering mood, knowing, as he did, that, though slow in forming his
purpose, yet having once broken through his reserve, he would follow
up harsh words with terrible deeds. 

About the same time Julia died, the granddaughter of Augustus. He
had condemned her on a conviction of adultery and had banished her
to the island of Trimerus, not far from the shores of Apulia. There
she endured a twenty years&apos; exile, in which she was supported by relief
from Augusta, who having overthrown the prosperity of her step-children
by secret machinations, made open display of her compassion to the
fallen family. 

That same year the Frisii, a nation beyond the Rhine, cast off peace,
more because of our rapacity than from their impatience of subjection.
Drusus had imposed on them a moderate tribute, suitable to their limited
resources, the furnishing of ox hides for military purposes. No one
ever severely scrutinized the size or thickness till Olennius, a first-rank
centurion, appointed to govern the Frisii, selected hides of wild
bulls as the standard according to which they were to be supplied.
This would have been hard for any nation, and it was the less tolerable
to the Germans, whose forests abound in huge beasts, while their home
cattle are undersized. First it was their herds, next their lands,
last, the persons of their wives and children, which they gave up
to bondage. Then came angry remonstrances, and when they received
no relief, they sought a remedy in war. The soldiers appointed to
collect the tribute were seized and gibbeted. Olennius anticipated
their fury by flight, and found refuge in a fortress, named Flevum,
where a by no means contemptible force of Romans and allies kept guard
over the shores of the ocean. 

As soon as this was known to Lucius Apronius, propraetor of Lower
Germany, he summoned from the Upper province the legionary veterans,
as well as some picked auxiliary infantry and cavalry. Instantly conveying
both armies down the Rhine, he threw them on the Frisii, raising at
once the siege of the fortress and dispersing the rebels in defence
of their own possessions. Next, he began constructing solid roads
and bridges over the neighbouring estuaries for the passage of his
heavy troops, and meanwhile having found a ford, he ordered the cavalry
of the Canninefates, with all the German infantry which served with
us, to take the enemy in the rear. Already in battle array, they were
beating back our auxiliary horse as well as that of the legions sent
to support them, when three light cohorts, then two more, and after
a while the entire cavalry were sent to the attack. They were strong
enough, had they charged altogether, but coming up, as they did, at
intervals, they did not give fresh courage to the repulsed troops
and were themselves carried away in the panic of the fugitives. Apronius
entrusted the rest of the auxiliaries to Cethegus Labeo, the commander
of the fifth legion, but he too, finding his men&apos;s position critical
and being in extreme peril, sent messages imploring the whole strength
of the legions. The soldiers of the fifth sprang forward, drove back
the enemy in a fierce encounter, and saved our cohorts and cavalry,
who were exhausted by their wounds. But the Roman general did not
attempt vengeance or even bury the dead, although many tribunes, prefects,
and first-rank centurions had fallen. Soon afterwards it was ascertained
from deserters that nine hundred Romans had been cut to pieces in
a wood called Braduhenna&apos;s, after prolonging the fight to the next
day, and that another body of four hundred, which had taken possession
of the house of one Cruptorix, once a soldier in our pay, fearing
betrayal, had perished by mutual slaughter. 

The Frisian name thus became famous in Germany, and Tiberius kept
our losses a secret, not wishing to entrust any one with the war.
Nor did the Senate care whether dishonour fell on the extreme frontiers
of the empire. Fear at home had filled their hearts, and for this
they sought relief in sycophancy. And so, although their advice was
asked on totally different subjects, they decreed an altar to Clemency,
an altar to Friendship, and statues round them to Caesar and Sejanus,
both of whom they earnestly begged with repeated entreaties to allow
themselves to be seen in public. Still, neither of them would visit
Rome or even the neighbourhood of Rome; they thought it enough to
quit the island and show themselves on the opposite shores of Campania.
Senators, knights, a number of the city populace flocked thither,
anxiously looking to Sejanus, approach to whom was particularly difficult
and was consequently sought by intrigue and by complicity in his counsels.
It was sufficiently clear that his arrogance was increased by gazing
on this foul and openly displayed servility. At Rome indeed hurrying
crowds are a familiar sight, from the extent of the city no one knows
on what business each citizen is bent; but there, as they lounged
in promiscuous crowds in the fields or on the shore, they had to bear
day and night alike the patronising smiles and the supercilious insolence
of hall-porters, till even this was forbidden them, and those whom
Sejanus had not deigned to accost or to look on, returned to the capital
in alarm, while some felt an evil joy, though there hung over them
the dreadful doom of that ill-starred friendship. 

Tiberius meanwhile having himself in person bestowed the hand of his
granddaughter Agrippina, Germanicus&apos;s daughter, on Cneius Domitius,
directed the marriage to be celebrated at Rome. In selecting Domitius
he looked not only to his ancient lineage, but also to his alliance
with the blood of the Caesars, for he could point to Octavia as his
grandmother and through her to Augustus as his great-uncle.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

BOOK V

A.D. 29-31 

In the consulship of Rubellius and Fufius, both of whom had the surname
Geminus, died in an advanced old age Julia Augusta. A Claudia by birth
and by adoption a Livia and a Julia, she united the noblest blood
of Rome. Her first marriage, by which she had children, was with Tiberius
Nero, who, an exile during the Perusian war, returned to Rome when
peace had been concluded between Sextus Pompeius and the triumvirs.
After this Caesar, enamoured of her beauty, took her away from her
husband, whether against her wish is uncertain. So impatient was he
that he brought her to his house actually pregnant, not allowing time
for her confinement. She had no subsequent issue, but allied as she
was through the marriage of Agrippina and Germanicus to the blood
of Augustus, her great-grandchildren were also his. In the purity
of her home life she was of the ancient type, but was more gracious
than was thought fitting in ladies of former days. An imperious mother
and an amiable wife, she was a match for the diplomacy of her husband
and the dissimulation of her son. Her funeral was simple, and her
will long remained unexecuted. Her panegyric was pronounced from the
Rostra by her great-grandson, Caius Caesar, who afterwards succeeded
to power. 

Tiberius however, making no change in his voluptuous life, excused
himself by letter for his absence from his last duty to his mother
on the ground of the pressure of business. He even abridged, out of
moderation, as it seemed, the honours which the Senate had voted on
a lavish scale to her memory, allowing only a very few, and adding
that no religious worship was to be decreed, this having been her
own wish. In a part of the same letter he sneered at female friendships,
with an indirect censure on the consul Fufius, who had risen to distinction
through Augusta&apos;s partiality. Fufius was indeed a man well fitted
to win the affection of a woman; he was witty too, and accustomed
to ridicule Tiberius with those bitter jests which the powerful remember
so long. 

This at all events was the beginning of an unmitigated and grinding
despotism. As long indeed as Augusta lived, there yet remained a refuge,
for with Tiberius obedience to his mother was the habit of a life,
and Sejanus did not dare to set himself above a parent&apos;s authority.
Now, so to say, they threw off the reins and let loose their fury.
A letter was sent, directed against Agrippina and Nero, which was
popularly believed to have been long before forwarded and to have
been kept back by Augusta, as it was publicly read soon after her
death. It contained expressions of studied harshness, yet it was not
armed rebellion or a longing for revolution, but unnatural passions
and profligacy which the emperor imputed to his grandson. Against
his daughter-in-law he did not dare to invent this much; he merely
censured her insolent tongue and defiant spirit, amid the panic-stricken
silence of the Senate, till a few who had no hope from merit (and
public calamities are ever used by individuals for interested purposes)
demanded that the question should be debated. The most eager was Cotta
Messalinus, who made a savage speech. Still, the other principal senators,
and especially the magistrates, were perplexed, for Tiberius, notwithstanding
his furious invective, had left everything else in doubt.

There was in the Senate one Junius Rusticus, who having been appointed
by the emperor to register its debates was therefore supposed to have
an insight into his secret purposes. This man, whether through some
fatal impulse (he had indeed never before given any evidence of courage)
or a misdirected acuteness which made him tremble at the uncertain
future, while he forgot impending perils, attached himself to the
waverers, and warned the consuls not to enter on the debate. He argued
that the highest issues turned on trivial causes, and that the fall
of the house of Germanicus might one day move the old man&apos;s remorse.
At the same moment the people, bearing the images of Agrippina and
Nero, thronged round the Senate-house, and, with words of blessing
on the emperor, kept shouting that the letter was a forgery and that
it was not by the prince&apos;s will that ruin was being plotted against
his house. And so that day passed without any dreadful result.

Fictitious speeches too against Sejanus were published under the names
of ex-consuls, for several persons indulged, all the more recklessly
because anonymously, the caprice of their imaginations. Consequently
the wrath of Sejanus was the more furious, and he had ground for alleging
that the Senate disregarded the emperor&apos;s trouble; that the people
were in revolt; that speeches in a new style and new resolutions were
being heard and read. What remained but to take the sword and chose
for their generals and emperors those whose images they had followed
as standards. 

Upon this the emperor, after repeating his invectives against his
grandson and his daughter-in-law and reprimanding the populace in
an edict complained to the Senate that by the trick of one senator
the imperial dignity had been publicly flouted, and he insisted that,
after all, the whole matter should be left to his exclusive decision.
Without further deliberation, they proceeded, not indeed to pronounce
the final sentence (for this was forbidden), but to declare that they
were prepared for vengeance, and were restrained only by the strong
hand of the sovereign. 

[The remainder of the fifth book and the beginning of the sixth, recounting
Sejanus&apos; marriage and fall and covering a space of nearly three years,
are lost. Newer editions of Tacitus mark the division between the
fifth and sixth books at this point rather than at the end of section
11; but references are regularly made to the older numbering, and
so it has been retained here. The beginning of section 6 is obviously
fragmentary.] 

.... forty-four speeches were delivered on this subject, a few of
which were prompted by fear, most by the habit of flattery...

&quot;There is now a change of fortune, and even he who chose Sejanus to
be his colleague and his son-in-law excuses his error. As for the
rest, the man whom they encouraged by shameful baseness, they now
wickedly revile. Which is the most pitiable, to be accused for friendship&apos;s
sake or to have to accuse a friend, I cannot decide. I will not put
any man&apos;s cruelty or compassion to the test, but, while I am free
and have a clear conscience, I will anticipate peril. I implore you
to cherish my memory with joy rather than with sorrow, numbering me
too with those who by noble death have fled from the miseries of our
country.&quot; 

Then detaining those of his friends who were minded to stay with him
and converse, or, if otherwise, dismissing them, he thus spent part
of the day, and with a numerous circle yet round him, all gazing on
his fearless face, and imagining that there was still time to elapse
before the last scene, he fell on a sword which he had concealed in
his robe. The emperor did not pursue him after his death with either
accusation or reproach, although he had heaped a number of foul charges
on Blaesus. 

Next were discussed the cases of Publius Vitellius and Pomponius Secundus.
The first was charged by his accusers with having offered the keys
of the treasury, of which he was prefect, and the military chest in
aid of a revolution. Against the latter, Considius, an ex-praetor,
alleged intimacy with Aelius Gallus, who, after the punishment of
Sejanus, had fled to the gardens of Pomponius, as his safest refuge.
They had no resource in their peril but in the courageous firmness
of their brothers who became their sureties. Soon, after several adjournments,
Vitellius, weary alike of hope and fear, asked for a penknife, avowedly,
for his literary pursuits, and inflicted a slight wound in his veins,
and died at last of a broken heart. Pomponius, a man of refined manners
and brilliant genius, bore his adverse fortune with resignation, and
outlived Tiberius. 

It was next decided to punish the remaining children of Sejanus, though
the fury of the populace was subsiding, and people generally had been
appeased by the previous executions. Accordingly they were carried
off to prison, the boy, aware of his impending doom, and the little
girl, who was so unconscious that she continually asked what was her
offence, and whither she was being dragged, saying that she would
do so no more, and a childish chastisement was enough for her correction.
Historians of the time tell us that, as there was no precedent for
the capital punishment of a virgin, she was violated by the executioner,
with the rope on her neck. Then they were strangled and their bodies,
mere children as they were, were flung down the Gemoniae.

About the same time Asia and Achaia were alarmed by a prevalent but
short-lived rumour that Drusus, the son of Germanicus, had been seen
in the Cyclades and subsequently on the mainland. There was indeed
a young man of much the same age, whom some of the emperor&apos;s freedmen
pretended to recognise, and to whom they attached themselves with
a treacherous intent. The renown of the name attracted the ignorant,
and the Greek mind eagerly fastens on what is new and marvellous.
The story indeed, which they no sooner invented than believed, was
that Drusus had escaped from custody, and was on his way to the armies
of his father, with the design of invading Egypt or Syria. And he
was now drawing to himself a multitude of young men and much popular
enthusiasm, enjoying the present and cherishing idle hopes of the
future, when Poppaeus Sabinus heard of the affair. At the time he
was chiefly occupied with Macedonia, but he also had the charge of
Achaia. So, to forestall the danger, let the story be true or false,
he hurried by the bays of Torone and Thermae, then passed on to Euboea,
an island of the Aegaean, to Piraeus, on the coast of Attica, thence
to the shores of Corinth and the narrow Isthmus, and having arrived
by the other sea at Nicopolis, a Roman colony, he there at last ascertained
that the man, when skilfully questioned, had said that he was the
son of Marcus Silanus, and that, after the dispersion of a number
of his followers&apos; he had embarked on a vessel, intending, it seemed,
to go to Italy. Sabinus sent this account to Tiberius, and of the
origin and issue of the affair nothing more is known to me.

At the close of the year a long growing feud between the consuls broke
out. Trio, a reckless man in incurring enmities and a practised lawyer,
had indirectly censured Regulus as having been half-hearted in crushing
the satellites of Sejanus. Regulus, who, unless he was provoked, loved
quietness, not only repulsed his colleague&apos;s attack, but was for dragging
him to trial as a guilty accomplice in the conspiracy. And though
many of the senators implored them to compose a quarrel likely to
end fatally, they continued their enmity and their mutual menaces
till they retired from office. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

BOOK VI

A.D. 32-37 

Cneius Domitius and Camillus Scribonianus had entered on the consulship
when the emperor, after crossing the channel which divides Capreae
from Surrentum, sailed along Campania, in doubt whether he should
enter Rome, or, possibly, simulating the intention of going thither,
because he had resolved otherwise. He often landed at points in the
neighborhood, visited the gardens by the Tiber, but went back again
to the cliffs and to the solitude of the sea shores, in shame at the
vices and profligacies into which he had plunged so unrestrainedly
that in the fashion of a despot he debauched the children of free-born
citizens. It was not merely beauty and a handsome person which he
felt as an incentive to his lust, but the modesty of childhood in
some, and noble ancestry in others. Hitherto unknown terms were then
for the first time invented, derived from the abominations of the
place and the endless phases of sensuality. Slaves too were set over
the work of seeking out and procuring, with rewards for the willing,
and threats to the reluctant, and if there was resistance from a relative
or a parent, they used violence and force, and actually indulged their
own passions as if dealing with captives. 

At Rome meanwhile, in the beginning of the year, as if Livia&apos;s crimes
had just been discovered and not also long ago punished, terrible
decrees were proposed against her very statues and memory, and the
property of Sejanus was to be taken from the exchequer and transferred
to the imperial treasury; as if there was any difference. The motion
was being urged with extreme persistency, in almost the same or with
but slightly changed language, by such men as Scipio, Silanus, and
Cassius, when suddenly Togonius Gallus intruding his own obscurity
among illustrious names, was heard with ridicule. He begged the emperor
to select a number of senators, twenty out of whom should be chosen
by lot to wear swords and to defend his person, whenever he entered
the Senate House. The man had actually believed a letter from him
in which he asked the protection of one of the consuls, so that he
might go in safety from Capreae to Rome. Tiberius however, who usually
combined jesting and seriousness, thanked the senators for their goodwill,
but asked who could be rejected, who could be chosen? &quot;Were they always
to be the same, or was there to be a succession? Were they to be men
who had held office or youths, private citizens or officials? Then,
again, what a scene would be presented by persons grasping their swords
on the threshold of the Senate House? His life was not of so much
worth if it had to be defended by arms.&quot; This was his answer to Togonius,
guarded in its expression, and he urged nothing beyond the rejection
of the motion. 

Junius Gallio however, who had proposed that the praetorian soldiers,
after having served their campaigns, should acquire the privilege
of sitting in the fourteen rows of the theatre, received a savage
censure. Tiberius, just as if he were face to face with him, asked
what he had to do with the soldiers, who ought to receive the emperor&apos;s
orders or his rewards except from the emperor himself? He had really
discovered something which the Divine Augustus had not foreseen. Or
was not one of Sejanus&apos;s satellites rather seeking to sow discord
and sedition, as a means of prompting ignorant minds, under the pretence
of compliment, to ruin military discipline? This was Gallio&apos;s recompense
for his carefully prepared flattery, with immediate expulsion from
the Senate, and then from Italy. And as men complained that he would
endure his exile with equanimity, since he had chosen the famous and
lovely island of Lesbos, he was dragged back to Rome, and confined
in the houses of different officials. 

The emperor in the same letter crushed Sextius Paconianus, an ex-praetor,
to the great joy of the senators, as he was a daring, mischievous
man, who pryed into every person&apos;s secrets, and had been the chosen
instrument of Sejanus in his treacherous designs against Caius Caesar.
When this fact was divulged, there came an outburst of long-concealed
hatreds, and there must have been a sentence of capital punishment,
had he not himself volunteered a disclosure. 

As soon as he named Latinius Latiaris, accuser and accused, both alike
objects of execration, presented a most welcome spectacle. Latiaris,
as I have related, had been foremost in contriving the ruin of Titius
Sabinus, and was now the first to pay the penalty. By way of episode,
Haterius Agrippa inveighed against the consuls of the previous year
for now sitting silent after their threats of impeaching one another.
&quot;It must be fear,&quot; he said, &quot;and a guilty conscience which are acting
as a bond of union. But the senators must not keep back what they
have heard.&quot; Regulus replied that he was awaiting the opportunity
for vengeance, and meant to press it in the emperor&apos;s presence. Trio&apos;s
answer was that it was best to efface the memory of rivalries between
colleagues, and of any words uttered in quarrels. When Agrippa still
persisted, Sanquinius Maximus, one of the ex-consuls, implored the
Senate not to increase the emperor&apos;s anxieties by seeking further
occasions of bitterness, as he was himself competent to provide remedies.
This secured the safety of Regulus and the postponement of Trio&apos;s
ruin. Haterius was hated all the more. Wan with untimely slumbers
and nights of riot, and not fearing in his indolence even the cruellest
of princes, he yet plotted amid his gluttony and lust the destruction
of illustrious men. 

Several charges were next brought, as soon as the opportunity offered,
against Cotta Messalinus, the author of every unusually cruel proposal,
and consequently, regarded with inveterate hatred. He had spoken,
it was said, of Caius Caesar, as if it were a question whether he
was a man, and of an entertainment at which he was present on Augusta&apos;s
birthday with the priests, as a funeral banquet. In remonstrating
too against the influence of Marcus Lepidus and Lucius Arruntius,
with whom he had disputes on many matters, he had added the remark,
&quot;They will have the Senate&apos;s support; I shall have that of my darling
Tiberius.&quot; But the leading men of the State failed to convict him
on all the charges. When they pressed the case, he appealed to the
emperor. Soon afterwards, a letter arrived, in which Tiberius traced
the origin of the friendship between himself and Cotta, enumerated
his frequent services, and then requested that words perversely misrepresented
and the freedom of table talk might not be construed into a crime.

The beginning of the emperor&apos;s letter seemed very striking. It opened
thus: &quot;May all the gods and goddesses destroy me more miserably than
I feel myself to be daily perishing, if I know at know at this moment
what to write to you, Senators, how to write it, or what, in short,
not to write.&quot; So completely had his crimes and infamies recoiled,
as a penalty, on himself. With profound meaning was it often affirmed
by the greatest teacher of philosophy that, could the minds of tyrants
be laid bare, there would be seen gashes and wounds; for, as the body
is lacerated by scourging, so is the spirit by brutality, by lust
and by evil thoughts. Assuredly Tiberius was not saved by his elevation
or his solitude from having to confess the anguish of his heart and
his self-inflicted punishment. 

Authority was then given to the Senate to decide the case of Caecilianus,
one of its members, the chief witness against Cotta, and it was agreed
that the same penalty should be inflicted as on Aruseius and Sanquinius,
the accusers of Lucius Arruntius. Nothing ever happened to Cotta more
to his distinction. Of noble birth, but beggared by extravagance and
infamous for his excesses, he was now by dignity of his revenge, raised
to a level with the stainless virtues of Arruntius. 

Quintus Servaeus and Minucius Thermus were next arraigned. Servaeus
was an ex-praetor, and had formerly been a companion of Germanicus;
Minucius was of equestrian rank, and both had enjoyed, though discreetly,
the friendship of Sejanus. Hence they were the more pitied. Tiberius,
on the contrary, denounced them as foremost in crime, and bade Caius
Cestius, the elder, tell the Senate what he had communicated to the
emperor by letter. Cestius undertook the prosecution. And this was
the most dreadful feature of the age, that leading members of the
Senate, some openly, some secretly employed themselves in the very
lowest work of the informer. One could not distinguish between aliens
and kinsfolk, between friends and strangers, or say what was quite
recent, or what half-forgotten from lapse of time. People were incriminated
for some casual remark in the forum or at the dinner-table, for every
one was impatient to be the first to mark his victim, some to screen
themselves, most from being, as it were, infected with the contagion
of the malady. 

Minucius and Servaeus, on being condemned, went over to the prosecution,
and then Julius Africanus with Seius Quadratus were dragged into the
same ruin. Africanus was from the Santones, one of the states of Gaul;
the origin of Quadratus I have not ascertained. Many authors, I am
well aware, have passed over the perils and punishments of a host
of persons, sickened by the multiplicity of them, or fearing that
what they had themselves found wearisome and saddening would be equally
fatiguing to their readers. For myself, I have lighted on many facts
worth knowing, though other writers have not recorded them.

A Roman knight, Marcus Terentius, at the crisis when all others had
hypocritically repudiated the friendship of Sejanus, dared, when impeached
on that ground, to cling to it by the following avowal to the Senate:
&quot;In my position it is perhaps less to my advantage to acknowledge
than to deny the charge. Still, whatever is to be the issue of the
matter, I shall admit that I was the friend of Sejanus, that I anxiously
sought to be such, and was delighted when I was successful. I had
seen him his father&apos;s colleague in the command of the praetorian cohorts,
and subsequently combining the duties of civil and military life.
His kinsfolk and connections were loaded with honours; intimacy with
Sejanus was in every case a powerful recommendation to the emperor&apos;s
friendship. Those, on the contrary, whom he hated, had to struggle
with danger and humiliation. I take no individual as an instance.
All of us who had no part in his last design, I mean to defend at
the peril of myself alone. It was really not Sejanus of Vulsinii,
it was a member of the Claudian and Julian houses, in which he had
taken a position by his marriage-alliance, it was your son-in-law,
Caesar, your partner in the consulship, the man who administered your
political functions, whom we courted. It is not for us to criticise
one whom you may raise above all others, or your motives for so doing.
Heaven has intrusted you with the supreme decision of affairs, and
for us is left the glory of obedience. And, again, we see what takes
place before our eyes, who it is on whom you bestow riches and honours,
who are the most powerful to help or to injure. That Sejanus was such,
no one will deny. To explore the prince&apos;s secret thoughts, or any
of his hidden plans, is a forbidden, a dangerous thing, nor does it
follow that one could reach them. 

&quot;Do not, Senators, think only of Sejanus&apos;s last day, but of his sixteen
years of power. We actually adored a Satrius and a Pomponius. To be
known even to his freedmen and hall-porters was thought something
very grand. What then is my meaning? Is this apology meant to be offered
for all without difference and discrimination? No; it is to be restricted
within proper limits. Let plots against the State, murderous designs
against the emperor be punished. As for friendship and its obligations,
the same principle must acquit both you, Caesar, and us.&quot;

The courage of this speech and the fact that there had been found
a man to speak out what was in all people&apos;s thoughts, had such an
effect that the accusers of Terentius were sentenced to banishment
or death, their previous offences being taken into account. Then came
a letter from Tiberius against Sextus Vestilius, an ex-praetor, whom,
as a special favourite of his brother Drusus, the emperor had admitted
into his own select circle. His reason for being displeased with Vestilius
was that he had either written an attack on Caius Caesar as a profligate,
or that Tiberius believed a false charge. For this Vestilius was excluded
from the prince&apos;s table. He then tried the knife with his aged hand,
but again bound up his veins, opening them once more however on having
begged for pardon by letter and received a pitiless answer. After
him a host of persons were charged with treason, Annius Pollio, Appius
Silanus, Scaurus Mamercus, Sabinus Calvisius, Vinicianus too, coupled
with Pollio, his father, men all of illustrious descent, some too
of the highest political distinction. The senators were panic-stricken,
for how few of their number were not connected by alliance or by friendship
with this multitude of men of rank! Celsus however, tribune of a city
cohort, and now one of the prosecutors, saved Appius and Calvisius
from the peril. The emperor postponed the cases of Pollio, Vinicianus,
and Scaurus, intending to try them himself with the Senate, not however
without affixing some ominous marks to the name of Scaurus.

Even women were not exempt from danger. Where they could not be accused
of grasping at political power, their tears were made a crime. Vitia,
an aged woman, mother of Fufius Geminus, was executed for bewailing
the death of her son. Such were the proceedings in the Senate. It
was the same with the emperor. Vescularius Atticus and Julius Marinus
were hurried off to execution, two of his oldest friends, men who
had followed him to Rhodes and been his inseparable companions at
Capreae. Vescularius was his agent in the plot against Libo, and it
was with the co-operation of Marinus that Sejanus had ruined Curtius
Atticus. Hence there was all the more joy at the recoil of these precedents
on their authors. 

About the same time Lucius Piso, the pontiff, died a natural death,
a rare incident in so high a rank. Never had he by choice proposed
a servile motion, and, whenever necessity was too strong for him,
he would suggest judicious compromises. His father, as I have related,
had been a censor. He lived to the advanced age of eighty, and had
won in Thrace the honour of a triumph. But his chief glory rested
on the wonderful tact with which as city-prefect he handled an authority,
recently made perpetual and all the more galling to men unaccustomed
to obey it. 

In former days, when the kings and subsequently the chief magistrates
went from Rome, an official was temporarily chosen to administer justice
and provide for emergencies, so that the capital might not be left
without government. It is said that Denter Romulius was appointed
by Romulus, then Numa Marcius by Tullus Hostilius, and Spurius Lucretius
by Tarquinius Superbus. Afterwards, the consuls made the appointment.
The shadow of the old practice still survives, whenever in consequence
of the Latin festival some one is deputed to exercise the consul&apos;s
functions. And Augustus too during the civil wars gave Cilnius Maecenas,
a Roman knight, charge of everything in Rome and Italy. When he rose
to supreme power, in consideration of the magnitude of the State and
the slowness of legal remedies, he selected one of the exconsuls to
overawe the slaves and that part of the population which, unless it
fears a strong hand, is disorderly and reckless. Messala Corvinus
was the first to obtain the office, which he lost within a few days,
as not knowing how to discharge it. After him Taurus Statilius, though
in advanced years, sustained it admirably; and then Piso, after twenty
years of similar credit, was, by the Senate&apos;s decree, honoured with
a public funeral. 

A motion was next brought forward in the Senate by Quintilianus, a
tribune of the people, respecting an alleged book of the Sibyl. Caninius
Gallus, a book of the College of the Fifteen, had asked that it might
be received among the other volumes of the same prophetess by a decree
on the subject. This having been carried by a division, the emperor
sent a letter in which he gently censured the tribune, as ignorant
of ancient usage because of his youth. Gallus he scolded for having
introduced the matter in a thin Senate, notwithstanding his long experience
in the science of religious ceremonies, without taking the opinion
of the College or having the verses read and criticised, as was usual,
by its presidents, though their authenticity was very doubtful. He
also reminded him that, as many spurious productions were current
under a celebrated name, Augustus had prescribed a day within which
they should be deposited with the city-praetor, and after which it
should not be lawful for any private person to hold them. The same
regulations too had been made by our ancestors after the burning of
the Capitol in the social war, when there was a search throughout
Samos, Ilium, Erythrae, and even in Africa, Sicily and the Italian
colonies for the verses of the Sibyl (whether there were but one or
more) and the priests were charged with the business of distinguishing,
as far as they could by human means, what were genuine. Accordingly
the book in question was now also submitted to the scrutiny of the
College of the Fifteen. 

During the same consulship a high price of corn almost brought on
an insurrection. For several days there were many clamorous demands
made in the theatre with an unusual freedom of language towards the
emperor. This provoked him to censure the magistrates and the Senate
for not having used the authority of the State to put down the people.
He named too the corn-supplying provinces, and dwelt on the far larger
amount of grain imported by himself than by Augustus. So the Senate
drew up a decree in the severe spirit of antiquity, and the consuls
issued a not less stringent proclamation. The emperor&apos;s silence was
not, as he had hoped, taken as a proof of patriotism, but of pride.

At the year&apos;s close Geminius, Celsus and Pompeius, Roman knights,
fell beneath a charge of conspiracy. Of these Caius Geminius, by lavish
expenditure and a luxurious life, had been a friend of Sejanus, but
with no serious result. Julius Celsus, a tribune, while in confinement,
loosened his chain, and having twisted it around him, broke his neck
by throwing himself in an opposite direction. Rubrius Fabatus was
put under surveillance, on a suspicion that, in despair of the fortunes
of Rome, he meant to throw himself on the mercy of the Parthians.
He was, at any rate, found near the Straits of the Sicily, and, when
dragged back by a centurion, he assigned no adequate reason for his
long journey. Still, he lived on in safety, thanks to forgetfulness
rather than to mercy. 

In the consulship of Servius Galba and Lucius Sulla, the emperor,
after having long considered whom he was to choose to be husbands
for his granddaughters, now that the maidens were of marriageable
age, selected Lucius Cassius and Marcus Vinicius. Vinicius was of
provincial descent; he was born at Cales, his father and grandfather
having been consuls, and his family, on the other side, being of the
rank of knights. He was a man of amiable temper and of cultivated
eloquence. Cassius was of an ancient and honourable, though plebeian
house, at Rome. Though he was brought up by his father under a severe
training, he won esteem more frequently by his good-nature than by
his diligence. To him and to Vinicius the emperor married respectively
Drusilla and Julia, Germanicus&apos;s daughters, and addressed a letter
on the subject to the Senate, with a slightly complimentary mention
of the young men. He next assigned some very vague reasons for his
absence, then passed to more important matters, the ill-will against
him originating in his state policy, and requested that Macro, who
commanded the praetorians, with a few tribunes and centurions, might
accompany him whenever he entered the Senate-house. But though a decree
was voted by the Senate on a liberal scale and without any restrictions
as to rank or numbers, he never so much as went near the walls of
Rome, much less the State-council, for he would often go round and
avoid his native city by circuitous routes. 

Meanwhile a powerful host of accusers fell with sudden fury on the
class which systematically increased its wealth by usury in defiance
of a law passed by Caesar the Dictator defining the terms of lending
money and of holding estates in Italy, a law long obsolete because
the public good is sacrificed to private interest. The curse of usury
was indeed of old standing in Rome and a most frequent cause of sedition
and discord, and it was therefore repressed even in the early days
of a less corrupt morality. First, the Twelve Tables prohibited any
one from exacting more than 10 per cent., when, previously, the rate
had depended on the caprice of the wealthy. Subsequently, by a bill
brought in by the tribunes, interest was reduced to half that amount,
and finally compound interest was wholly forbidden. A check too was
put by several enactments of the people on evasions which, though
continually put down, still, through strange artifices, reappeared.
On this occasion, however, Gracchus, the praetor, to whose jurisdiction
the inquiry had fallen, felt himself compelled by the number of persons
endangered to refer the matter to the Senate. In their dismay the
senators, not one of whom was free from similar guilt, threw themselves
on the emperor&apos;s indulgence. He yielded, and a year and six months
were granted, within which every one was to settle his private accounts
conformably to the requirements of the law. 

Hence followed a scarcity of money, a great shock being given to all
credit, the current coin too, in consequence of the conviction of
so many persons and the sale of their property, being locked up in
the imperial treasury or the public exchequer. To meet this, the Senate
had directed that every creditor should have two-thirds his capital
secured on estates in Italy. Creditors however were suing for payment
in full, and it was not respectable for persons when sued to break
faith. So, at first, there were clamorous meetings and importunate
entreaties; then noisy applications to the praetor&apos;s court. And the
very device intended as a remedy, the sale and purchase of estates,
proved the contrary, as the usurers had hoarded up all their money
for buying land. The facilities for selling were followed by a fall
of prices, and the deeper a man was in debt, the more reluctantly
did he part with his property, and many were utterly ruined. The destruction
of private wealth precipitated the fall of rank and reputation, till
at last the emperor interposed his aid by distributing throughout
the banks a hundred million sesterces, and allowing freedom to borrow
without interest for three years, provided the borrower gave security
to the State in land to double the amount. Credit was thus restored,
and gradually private lenders were found. The purchase too of estates
was not carried out according to the letter of the Senate&apos;s decree,
rigour at the outset, as usual with such matters, becoming negligence
in the end. 

Former alarms then returned, as there was a charge of treason against
Considius Proculus. While he was celebrating his birthday without
a fear, he was hurried before the Senate, condemned and instantly
put to death. His sister Sancia was outlawed, on the accusation of
Quintus Pomponius, a restless spirit, who pretended that he employed
himself in this and like practices to win favour with the sovereign,
and thereby alleviate the perils hanging over his brother Pomponius
Secundus. 

Pompeia Macrina too was sentenced to banishment. Her husband Argolicus
and her father-in-law Laco, leading men of Achaia, had been ruined
by the emperor. Her father likewise, an illustrious Roman knight,
and her brother, an ex-praetor, seeing their doom was near, destroyed
themselves. It was imputed to them as a crime that their great-grandfather
Theophanes of Mitylene had been one of the intimate friends of Pompey
the Great, and that after his death Greek flattery had paid him divine
honours. 

Sextus Marius, the richest man in Spain, was next accused of incest
with his daughter, and thrown headlong from the Tarpeian rock. To
remove any doubt that the vastness of his wealth had proved the man&apos;s
ruin, Tiberius kept his gold-mines for himself, though they were forfeited
to the State. Executions were now a stimulus to his fury, and he ordered
the death of all who were lying in prison under accusation of complicity
with Sejanus. There lay, singly or in heaps, the unnumbered dead,
of every age and sex, the illustrious with the obscure. Kinsfolk and
friends were not allowed to be near them, to weep over them, or even
to gaze on them too long. Spies were set round them, who noted the
sorrow of each mourner and followed the rotting corpses, till they
were dragged to the Tiber, where, floating or driven on the bank,
no one dared to burn or to touch them. The force of terror had utterly
extinguished the sense of human fellowship, and, with the growth of
cruelty, pity was thrust aside. 

About this time Caius Caesar, who became his grandfather&apos;s companion
on his retirement to Capreae, married Claudia, daughter of Marcus
Silanus. He was a man who masked a savage temper under an artful guise
of self-restraint, and neither his mother&apos;s doom nor the banishment
of his brothers extorted from him a single utterance. Whatever the
humour of the day with Tiberius, he would assume the like, and his
language differed as little. Hence the fame of a clever remark from
the orator Passienus, that &quot;there never was a better slave or a worse
master.&quot; 

I must not pass over a prognostication of Tiberius respecting Servius
Galba, then consul. Having sent for him and sounded him on various
topics, he at last addressed him in Greek to this effect: &quot;You too,
Galba, will some day have a taste of empire.&quot; He thus hinted at a
brief span of power late in life, on the strength of his acquaintance
with the art of astrologers, leisure for acquiring which he had had
at Rhodes, with Thrasyllus for instructor. This man&apos;s skill he tested
in the following manner. 

Whenever he sought counsel on such matters, he would make use of the
top of the house and of the confidence of one freedman, quite illiterate
and of great physical strength. The man always walked in front of
the person whose science Tiberius had determined to test, through
an unfrequented and precipitous path (for the house stood on rocks),
and then, if any suspicion had arisen of imposture or of trickery,
he hurled the astrologer, as he returned, into the sea beneath, that
no one might live to betray the secret. Thrasyllus accordingly was
led up the same cliffs, and when he had deeply impressed his questioner
by cleverly revealing his imperial destiny and future career, he was
asked whether he had also thoroughly ascertained his own horoscope,
and the character of that particular year and day. After surveying
the positions and relative distances of the stars, he first paused,
then trembled, and the longer he gazed, the more was he agitated by
amazement and terror, till at last he exclaimed that a perilous and
well-nigh fatal crisis impended over him. Tiberius then embraced him
and congratulated him on foreseeing his dangers and on being quite
safe. Taking what he had said as an oracle, he retained him in the
number of his intimate friends. 

When I hear of these and like occurrences, I suspend my judgment on
the question whether it is fate and unchangeable necessity or chance
which governs the revolutions of human affairs. Indeed, among the
wisest of the ancients and among their disciples you will find conflicting
theories, many holding the conviction that heaven does not concern
itself with the beginning or the end of our life, or, in short, with
mankind at all; and that therefore sorrows are continually the lot
of the good, happiness of the wicked; while others, on the contrary,
believe that though there is a harmony between fate and events, yet
it is not dependent on wandering stars, but on primary elements, and
on a combination of natural causes. Still, they leave us the capacity
of choosing our life, maintaining that, the choice once made, there
is a fixed sequence of events. Good and evil, again, are not what
vulgar opinion accounts them; many who seem to be struggling with
adversity are happy; many, amid great affluence, are utterly miserable,
if only the first bear their hard lot with patience, and the latter
make a foolish use of their prosperity. 

Most men, however, cannot part with the belief that each person&apos;s
future is fixed from his very birth, but that some things happen differently
from what has been foretold through the impostures of those who describe
what they do not know, and that this destroys the credit of a science,
clear testimonies to which have been given both by past ages and by
our own. In fact, how the son of this same Thrasyllus predicted Nero&apos;s
reign I shall relate when the time comes, not to digress too far from
my subject. 

That same year the death of Asinius Gallus became known. That he died
of starvation, there was not a doubt; whether of his own choice or
by compulsion, was a question. The emperor was asked whether he would
allow him to be buried, and he blushed not to grant the favour, and
actually blamed the accident which had proved fatal to the accused
before he could be convicted in his presence. Just as if in a three
years&apos; interval an opportunity was wanting for the trial of an old
ex-consul and the father of a number of ex-consuls. 

Next Drusus perished, after having prolonged life for eight days on
the most wretched of food, even chewing the stuffing, his bed. According
to some writers, Macro had been instructed that, in case of Sejanus
attempting an armed revolt, he was to hurry the young prince out of
the confinement in which he was detained in the Palace and put him
at the head of the people. Subsequently the emperor, as a rumour was
gaining ground that he was on the point of a reconciliation with his
daughter-in-law and his grandson, chose to be merciless rather than
to relent. 

He even bitterly reviled him after his death, taunting him with nameless
abominations and with a spirit bent on his family&apos;s ruin and hostile
to the State. And, what seemed most horrible of all, he ordered a
daily journal of all that he said and did to be read in public. That
there had been spies by his side for so many years, to note his looks,
his sighs, and even his whispered thoughts, and that his grandfather
could have heard read, and published all, was scarce credible. But
letters of Attius, a centurion, and Didymus, a freedman, openly exhibited
the names of slave after slave who had respectively struck or scared
Drusus as he was quitting his chamber. The centurion had actually
added, as something highly meritorious, his own language in all its
brutality, and some utterances of the dying man in which, at first
feigning loss of reason, he imprecated in seeming madness fearful
things on Tiberius, and then, when hope of life was gone, denounced
him with a studied and elaborate curse. &quot;As he had slain a daughter-in-law,
a brother&apos;s son, and son&apos;s sons, and filled his whole house with bloodshed,
so might he pay the full penalty due to the name and race of his ancestors
as well as to future generations.&quot; 

The Senate clamorously interrupted, with an affectation of horror,
but they were penetrated by alarm and amazement at seeing that a hitherto
cunning prince, who had shrouded his wickedness in mystery, had waxed
so bold as to remove, so to speak, the walls of his house and display
his grandson under a centurion&apos;s lash, amid the buffetings of slaves,
craving in vain the last sustenance of life. 

Men&apos;s grief at all this had not died away when news was heard of Agrippina.
She had lived on, sustained by hope, I suppose, after the destruction
of Sejanus, and, when she found no abatement of horrors, had voluntarily
perished, though possibly nourishment was refused her and a fiction
concocted of a death that might seem self-chosen. Tiberius, it is
certain, vented his wrath in the foulest charges. He reproached her
with unchastity, with having had Asinius Gallus as a paramour and
being driven by his death to loathe existence. But Agrippina, who
could not endure equality and loved to domineer, was with her masculine
aspirations far removed from the frailties of women. The emperor further
observed that she died on the same day on which Sejanus had paid the
penalty of his crime two years before, a fact, he said, to be recorded;
and he made it a boast that she had not been strangled by the halter
and flung down the Gemonian steps. He received a vote of thanks, and
it was decreed that on the seventeenth of October, the day on which
both perished, through all future years, an offering should be consecrated
to Jupiter. 

Soon afterwards Cocceius Nerva, a man always at the emperor&apos;s side,
a master of law both divine and human, whose position was secure and
health sound, resolved to die. Tiberius, as soon as he knew it, sat
by him and asked his reasons, adding intreaties, and finally protesting
that it would be a burden on his conscience and a blot on his reputation,
if the most intimate of his friends were to fly from life without
any cause for death. Nerva turned away from his expostulations and
persisted in his abstinence from all food. Those who knew his thoughts
said that as he saw more closely into the miseries of the State, he
chose, in anger and alarm, an honourable death, while he was yet safe
and unassailed on. 

Meanwhile Agrippina&apos;s ruin, strange to say, dragged Plancina with
it. Formerly the wife of Cneius Piso, and one who had openly exulted
at the death of Germanicus, she had been saved, when Piso fell, by
the intreaties of Augusta, and not less by the enmity of Agrippina.
When hatred and favour had alike passed away, justice asserted itself.
Pursued by charges universally notorious, she suffered by her own
hand a penalty tardy rather than undeserved. 

Amid the many sorrows which saddened Rome, one cause of grief was
the marriage of Julia, Drusus&apos;s daughter and Nero&apos;s late wife, into
the humbler family of Rubellius Blandus, whose grandfather many remembered
as a Roman knight from Tibur. At the end of the year the death of
Aelius Lamia, who, after being at last released from the farce of
governing Syria, had become city-prefect, was celebrated with the
honours of a censor&apos;s funeral. He was a man of illustrious descent,
and in a hale old age; and the fact of the province having been withheld
gained him additional esteem. Subsequently, on the death of Flaccus
Pomponius, propraetor of Syria, a letter from the emperor was read,
in which he complained that all the best men who were fit to command
armies declined the service, and that he was thus necessarily driven
to intreaties, by which some of the ex-consuls might be prevailed
on to take provinces. He forgot that Arruntius had been kept at home
now for ten years, that he might not go to Spain. 

That same year Marcus Lepidus also died. I have dwelt at sufficient
length on his moderation and wisdom in my earlier books, and I need
not further enlarge on his noble descent. Assuredly the family of
the Aemilii has been rich in good citizens, and even the members of
that house whose morals were corrupt, still lived with a certain splendour.

During the consulship of Paulus Fabius and Lucius Vitellius, the bird
called the phoenix, after a long succession of ages, appeared in Egypt
and furnished the most learned men of that country and of Greece with
abundant matter for the discussion of the marvellous phenomenon. It
is my wish to make known all on which they agree with several things,
questionable enough indeed, but not too absurd to be noticed.

That it is a creature sacred to the sun, differing from all other
birds in its beak and in the tints of its plumage, is held unanimously
by those who have described its nature. As to the number of years
it lives, there are various accounts. The general tradition says five
hundred years. Some maintain that it is seen at intervals of fourteen
hundred and sixty-one years, and that the former birds flew into the
city called Heliopolis successively in the reigns of Sesostris, Amasis,
and Ptolemy, the third king of the Macedonian dynasty, with a multitude
of companion birds marvelling at the novelty of the appearance. But
all antiquity is of course obscure. From Ptolemy to Tiberius was a
period of less than five hundred years. Consequently some have supposed
that this was a spurious phoenix, not from the regions of Arabia,
and with none of the instincts which ancient tradition has attributed
to the bird. For when the number of years is completed and death is
near, the phoenix, it is said, builds a nest in the land of its birth
and infuses into it a germ of life from which an offspring arises,
whose first care, when fledged, is to bury its father. This is not
rashly done, but taking up a load of myrrh and having tried its strength
by a long flight, as soon as it is equal to the burden and to the
journey, it carries its father&apos;s body, bears it to the altar of the
Sun, and leaves it to the flames. All this is full of doubt and legendary
exaggeration. Still, there is no question that the bird is occasionally
seen in Egypt. 

Rome meanwhile being a scene of ceaseless bloodshed, Pomponius Labeo,
who was, as I have related, governor of Moesia, severed his veins
and let his life ebb from him. His wife, Paxaea, emulated her husband.
What made such deaths eagerly sought was dread of the executioner,
and the fact too that the condemned, besides forfeiture of their property,
were deprived of burial, while those who decided their fate themselves,
had their bodies interred, and their wills remained valid, a recompense
this for their despatch. The emperor, however, argued in a letter
to the Senate that it had been the practice of our ancestors, whenever
they broke off an intimacy, to forbid the person their house, and
so put an end to friendship. &quot;This usage he had himself revived in
Labeo&apos;s case, but Labeo, being pressed by charges of maladministration
in his province and other crimes, had screened his guilt by bringing
odium on another, and had groundlessly alarmed his wife, who, though
criminal, was still free from danger.&quot; 

Mamercus Scaurus was then for the second time impeached, a man of
distinguished rank and ability as an advocate, but of infamous life.
He fell, not through the friendship of Sejanus, but through what was
no less powerful to destroy, the enmity of Macro, who practised the
same arts more secretly. Macro&apos;s information was grounded on the subject
of a tragedy written by Scaurus, from which he cited some verses which
might be twisted into allusions to Tiberius. But Servilius and Cornelius,
his accusers, alleged adultery with Livia and the practice of magical
rites. Scaurus, as befitted the old house of the Aemilii, forestalled
the fatal sentence at the persuasion of his wife Sextia, who urged
him to die and shared his death. 

Still the informers were punished when ever an opportunity occurred.
Servilius and Cornelius, for example, whom the destruction of Scaurus
had made notorious, were outlawed and transported to some islands
for having taken money from Varius Ligur for dropping a prosecution.
Abudius Ruso too, who had been an aedile, in seeking to imperil Lentulus
Gaetulicus, under whom he had commanded a legion, by alleging that
he had fixed on a son of Sejanus for his son-in-law, was himself actually
condemned and banished from Rome. Gaetulicus at this time was in charge
of the legions of Upper Germany, and had won from them singular affection,
as a man of unbounded kindliness, moderate in his strictness, and
popular even with the neighbouring army through his father-in-law,
Lucius Apronius. Hence rumour persistently affirmed that he had ventured
to send the emperor a letter, reminding him that his alliance with
Sejanus had not originated in his own choice, but in the advice of
Tiberius; that he was himself as liable to be deceived as Tiberius,
and that the same mistake ought not to be held innocent in the prince
and be a source of ruin to others. His loyalty was still untainted
and would so remain, if he was not assaIled by any plot. A successor
he should accept as an announcement of his doom. A compact, so to
say, ought to be sealed between them, by which he should retain his
province, and the emperor be master of all else. Strange as this story
was, it derived credibility from the fact that Gaetulicus alone of
all connected with Sejanus lived in safety and in high favour, Tiberius
bearing in mind the people&apos;s hatred, his own extreme age how his government
rested more on prestige than on power. 

In the consulship of Caius Cestius and Marcus Servilius, some Parthian
nobles came to Rome without the knowledge of their king Artabanus.
Dread of Germanicus had made that prince faithful to the Romans and
just to his people, but he subsequently changed this behaviour for
insolence towards us and tyranny to his subjects. He was elated by
the wars which he had successfully waged against the surrounding nations,
while he disdained the aged and, as he thought, unwarlike Tiberius,
eagerly coveting Armenia, over which, on the death of Artaxias, he
placed Arsaces, his eldest son. He further added insult, and sent
envoys to reclaim the treasures left by Vonones in Syria and Cilicia.
Then too he insisted on the ancient boundaries of Persia and Macedonia,
and intimated, with a vainglorious threat, that he meant to seize
on the country possessed by Cyrus and afterwards by Alexander.

The chief adviser of the Parthians in sending the secret embassy was
Sinnaces, a man of distinguished family and corresponding wealth.
Next in influence was Abdus, an eunuch, a class which, far from being
despised among barbarians, actually possesses power. These, with some
other nobles whom they admitted to their counsels, as there was not
a single Arsacid whom they could put on the throne, most of the family
having been murdered by Artabanus or being under age, demanded that
Phraates, son of king Phraates, should be sent from Rome. &quot;Only a
name,&quot; they said, &quot;and an authority were wanted; only, in fact, that,
with Caesar&apos;s consent, a scion of the house of Arsaces should show
himself on the banks of the Euphrates.&quot; 

This suited the wishes of Tiberius. He provided Phraates with what
he needed for assuming his father&apos;s sovereignty, while he clung to
his purpose of regulating foreign affairs by a crafty policy and keeping
war at a distance. Artabanus meanwhile, hearing of the treacherous
arrangement, was one moment perplexed by apprehension, the next fired
with a longing for revenge. With barbarians, indecision is a slave&apos;s
weakness; prompt action king-like. But now expediency prevailed, and
he invited Abdus, under the guise of friendship, to a banquet, and
disabled him by a lingering poison; Sinnaces he put off by pretexts
and presents, and also by various employments. Phraates meanwhile,
on arriving in Syria, where he threw off the Roman fashions to which
for so many years he had been accustomed, and adapted himself to Parthian
habits, unable to endure the customs of his country, was carried off
by an illness. Still, Tiberius did not relinquish his purpose. He
chose Tiridates, of the same stock as Artabanus, to be his rival,
and the Iberian Mithridates to be the instrument of recovering Armenia,
having reconciled him to his brother Pharasmanes, who held the throne
of that country. He then intrusted the whole of his eastern policy
to Lucius Vitellius. The man, I am aware, had a bad name at Rome,
and many a foul story was told of him. But in the government of provinces
he acted with the virtue of ancient times. He returned, and then,
through fear of Caius Caesar and intimacy with Claudius, he degenerated
into a servility so base that he is regarded by an after-generation
as the type of the most degrading adulation. The beginning of his
career was forgotten in its end, and an old age of infamy effaced
the virtues of youth. 

Of the petty chiefs Mithridates was the first to persuade Pharasmanes
to aid his enterprise by stratagem and force, and agents of corruption
were found who tempted the servants of Arsaces into crime by a quantity
of gold. At the same instant the Iberians burst into Armenia with
a huge host, and captured the city of Artaxata. Artabanus, on hearing
this, made his son Orodes the instrument of vengeance. He gave him
the Parthian army and despatched men to hire auxiliaries. Pharasmanes,
on the other hand, allied himself with the Albanians, and procured
aid from the Sarmatae, whose highest chiefs took bribes from both
sides, after the fashion of their countrymen, and engaged themselves
in conflicting interests. But the Iberians, who were masters of the
various positions, suddenly poured the Sarmatae into Armenia by the
Caspian route. Meanwhile those who were coming up to the support of
the Parthians were easily kept back, all other approaches having been
closed by the enemy except one, between the sea and the mountains
on the Albanian frontier, which summer rendered difficult, as there
the shallows are flooded by the force of the Etesian gales. The south
wind in winter rolls back the waves, and when the sea is driven back
upon itself, the shallows along the coast, are exposed. 

Meantime, while Orodes was without an ally, Pharasmanes, now strengthened
by reinforcements, challenged him to battle, taunted him on his refusal,
rode up to his camp and harassed his foraging parties. He often hemmed
him in with his picquets in the fashion of a blockade, till the Parthians,
who were unused to such insults, gathered round the king and demanded
battle. Their sole strength was in cavalry; Pharasmanes was also powerful
in infantry, for the Iberians and Albanians, inhabiting as they did
a densely wooded country, were more inured to hardship and endurance.
They claim to have been descended from the Thessalians, at the period
when Jason, after the departure of Medea and the children born of
her, returned subsequently to the empty palace of Aeetes, and the
vacant kingdom of Colchi. They have many traditions connected with
his name and with the oracle of Phrixus. No one among them would think
of sacrificing a ram, the animal supposed to have conveyed Phrixus,
whether it was really a ram or the figure-head of a ship.

Both sides having been drawn up in battle array, the Parthian leader
expatiated on the empire of the East, and the renown of the Arsacids,
in contrast to the despicable Iberian chief with his hireling soldiery.
Pharasmanes reminded his people that they had been free from Parthian
domination, and that the grander their aims, the more glory they would
win if victorious, the more disgrace and peril they would incur if
they turned their backs. He pointed, as he spoke, to his own menacing
array, and to the Median bands with their golden embroidery; warriors,
as he said, on one side, spoil on the other. 

Among the Sarmatae the general&apos;s voice was not alone to be heard.
They encouraged one another not to begin the battle with volleys of
arrows; they must, they said, anticipate attack by a hand to hand
charge. Then followed every variety of conflict. The Parthians, accustomed
to pursue or fly with equal science, deployed their squadrons, and
sought scope for their missiles. The Sarmatae, throwing aside their
bows, which at a shorter range are effective, rushed on with pikes
and swords. Sometimes, as in a cavalry-action, there would be alternate
advances and retreats, then, again, close fighting, in which, breast
to breast, with the clash of arms, they repulsed the foe or were themselves
repulsed. And now the Albanians and Iberians seized, and hurled the
Parthians from their steeds, and embarrassed their enemy with a double
attack, pressed as they were by the cavalry on the heights and by
the nearer blows of the infantry. Meanwhile Pharasmanes and Orodes,
who, as they cheered on the brave and supported the wavering, were
conspicuous to all, and so recognised each other, rushed to the combat
with a shout, with javelins, and galloping chargers, Pharasmanes with
the greater impetuosity, for he pierced his enemy&apos;s helmet at a stroke.
But he could not repeat the blow, as he was hurried onwards by his
horse, and the wounded man was protected by the bravest of his guards.
A rumour that he was slain, which was believed by mistake, struck
panic into the Parthians, and they yielded the victory. 

Artabanus very soon marched with the whole strength of his kingdom,
intent on vengeance. The Iberians from their knowledge of the country
fought at an advantage. Still Artabanus did not retreat till Vitellius
had assembled his legions and, by starting a report that he meant
to invade Mesopotamia, raised an alarm of war with Rome. Armenia was
then abandoned, and the fortunes of Artabanus were overthrown, Vitellius
persuading his subjects to forsake a king who was a tyrant in peace,
and ruinously unsuccessful in war. And so Sinnaces, whose enmity to
the prince I have already mentioned, drew into actual revolt his father
Abdageses and others, who had been secretly in his counsel, and were
now after their continued disasters more eager to fight. By degrees,
many flocked to him who, having been kept in subjection by fear rather
than by goodwill, took courage as soon as they found leaders.

Artabanus had now no resources but in some foreigners who guarded
his person, men exiled from their own homes, who had no perception
of honour, or any scruple about a base act, mere hireling instruments
of crime. With these attendants he hastened his flight into the remote
country on the borders of Scythia, in the hope of aid, as he was connected
by marriage alliances with the Hyrcanians and Carmanians. Meantime
the Parthians, he thought, indulgent as they are to an absent prince,
though restless under his presence, might turn to a better mind.

Vitellius, as soon as Artabanus had fled and his people were inclined
to have a new king, urged Tiridates to seize the advantage thus offered,
and then led the main strength of the legions and the allies to the
banks of the Euphrates. While they were sacrificing, the one, after
Roman custom, offering a swine, a ram and a bull; the other, a horse
which he had duly prepared as a propitiation to the river-god, they
were informed by the neighbouring inhabitants that the Euphrates,
without any violent rains, was of itself rising to an immense height,
and that the white foam was curling into circles like a diadem, an
omen of a prosperous passage. Some explained it with more subtlety,
of a successful commencement to the enterprise, which, however, would
not be lasting, on the ground, that though a confident trust might
be placed in prognostics given in the earth or in the heavens, the
fluctuating character of rivers exhibited omens which vanished the
same moment. 

A bridge of boats having been constructed and the army having crossed,
the first to enter the camp was Ornospades, with several thousand
cavalry. Formerly an exile, he had rendered conspicuous aid to Tiberius
in the completion of the Dalmatic war, and had for this been rewarded
with Roman citizenship. Subsequently, he had again sought the friendship
of his king, by whom he had been raised to high honour, and appointed
governor of the plains, which, being surrounded by the waters of those
famous rivers, the Euphrates and Tigris, have received the name of
Mesopotamia. Soon afterwards, Sinnaces reinforced the army, and Abdageses,
the mainstay of the party, came with the royal treasure and what belonged
to the crown. Vitellius thought it enough to have displayed the arms
of Rome, and he then bade Tiridates remember his grandfather Phraates,
and his foster-father Caesar, and all that was glorious in both of
them, while the nobles were to show obedience to their king, and respect
for us, each maintaining his honour and his loyalty. This done, he
returned with the legions to Syria. 

I have related in sequence the events of two summer-campaigns, as
a relief to the reader&apos;s mind from our miseries at home. Though three
years had elapsed since the destruction of Sejanus, neither time,
intreaties, nor sated gratification, all which have a soothing effect
on others, softened Tiberius, or kept him from punishing doubtful
or forgotten offenses as most flagrant and recent crimes. Under this
dread, Fulcinius Trio, unwilling to face an onslaught of accusers,
inserted in his will several terrible imputations on Macro and on
the emperor&apos;s principal freedmen, while he taunted the emperor himself
with the mental decay of old age, and the virtual exile of continuous
retirement. Tiberius ordered these insults, which Trio&apos;s heirs had
suppressed, to be publicly read, thus showing his tolerance of free
speech in others and despising his own shame, or, possibly, because
he had long been ignorant of the villanies of Sejanus, and now wished
any remarks, however reckless, to published, and so to ascertain,
through invective, if it must be so, the truth, which flattery obscures.
About the same time Granius Marcianus, a senator, who was accused
of treason by Caius Gracchus, laid hands on himself. Tarius Gratianus
too, an ex-praetor, was condemned under the same law to capital punishment.

A similar fate befell Trebellienus Rufus and Sextius Paconianus. Trebellienus
perished by his own hand; Paconianus was strangled in prison for having
there written some lampoons on the emperor. Tiberius received the
news, no longer parted by the sea, as he had been once, or through
messengers from a distance, but in close proximity to Rome, so that
on the same day, or after the interval of a single night, he could
reply to the despatches of the consuls, and almost behold the bloodshed
as it streamed from house to house, and the strokes of the executioner.

At the year&apos;s close Poppaeus Sabinus died, a man of somewhat humble
extraction, who had risen by his friendship with two emperors to the
consulship and the honours of a triumph. During twenty-four years
he had the charge of the most important provinces, not for any remarkable
ability, but because he was equal to business and was not too great
for it. 

Quintus Plautius and Sextus Papinius were the next consuls. The fact
that that year Lucius Aruseius was put to death did not strike men
as anything horrible, from their familiarity with evil deeds. But
there was a panic when Vibulenus Agrippa, a Roman knight, as soon
as his accusers had finished their case, took from his robe, in the
very Senate-house, a dose of poison, drank it off, and, as he fell
expiring, was hurried away to prison by the prompt hands of lictors,
where the neck of the now lifeless man was crushed with the halter.
Even Tigranes, who had once ruled Armenia and was now impeached, did
not escape the punishment of an ordinary citizen on the strength of
his royal title. 

Caius Galba meanwhile and the Blaesi perished by a voluntary death;
Galba, because a harsh letter from the emperor forbade him to have
a province allotted to him; while, as for the Blaesi, the priesthoods
intended for them during the prosperity of their house, Tiberius had
withheld, when that prosperity was shaken, and now conferred, as vacant
offices, on others. This they understood as a signal of their doom,
and acted on it. 

Aemilia Lepida too, whose marriage with the younger Drusus I have
already related, who, though she had pursued her husband with ceaseless
accusations, remained unpunished, infamous as she was, as long as
her father Lepidus lived, subsequently fell a victim to the informers
for adultery with a slave. There was no question about her guilt,
and so without an attempt at defence she put an end to her life.

At this same time the Clitae, a tribe subject to the Cappadocian Archelaus,
retreated to the heights of Mount Taurus, because they were compelled
in Roman fashion to render an account of their revenue and submit
to tribute. There they defended themselves by means of the nature
of the country against the king&apos;s unwarlike troops, till Marcus Trebellius,
whom Vitellius, the governor of Syria, sent as his lieutenant with
four thousand legionaries and some picked auxiliaries, surrounded
with his lines two hills occupied by the barbarians, the lesser of
which was named Cadra, the other Davara. Those who dared to sally
out, he reduced to surrender by the sword, the rest by drought.

Tiridates meanwhile, with the consent of the Parthians, received the
submission of Nicephorium, Anthemusias and the other cities, which
having been founded by Macedonians, claim Greek names, also of the
Parthian towns Halus and Artemita. There was a rivalry of joy among
the inhabitants who detested Artabanus, bred as he had been among
the Scythians, for his cruelty, and hoped to find in Tiridates a kindly
spirit from his Roman training. 

Seleucia, a powerful and fortified city which had never lapsed into
barbarism, but had clung loyally to its founder Seleucus, assumed
the most marked tone of flattery. Three hundred citizens, chosen for
wealth or wisdom, form a kind of senate, and the people have powers
of their own. When both act in concert, they look with contempt on
the Parthians; as soon as they are at discord, and the respective
leaders invite aid for themselves against their rivals, the ally summoned
to help a faction crushes them all. This had lately happened in the
reign of Artabanus, who, for his own interest, put the people at the
mercy of the nobles. As a fact, popular government almost amounts
to freedom, while the rule of the few approaches closely to a monarch&apos;s
caprice. 

Seleucia now celebrated the arrival of Tiridates with all the honours
paid to princes of old and all which modern times, with a more copious
inventiveness, have devised. Reproaches were at the same time heaped
on Artabanus, as an Arsacid indeed on his mother&apos;s side, but as in
all else degenerate. Tiridates gave the government of Seleucia to
the people. Soon afterwards, as he was deliberating on what day he
should inaugurate his reign, he received letters from Phraates and
Hiero, who held two very powerful provinces, imploring a brief delay.
It was thought best to wait for men of such commanding influence,
and meanwhile Ctesiphon, the seat of empire, was their chosen destination.
But as they postponed their coming from day to day, the Surena, in
the presence of an approving throng, crowned Tiridates, according
to the national usage, with the royal diadem. 

And now had he instantly made his way to the heart of the country
and to its other tribes, the reluctance of those who wavered, would
have been overpowered, and all to a man would have yielded. By besieging
a fortress into which Artabanus had conveyed his treasure and his
concubines, he gave them time to disown their compact. Phraates and
Hiero, with others who had not united in celebrating the day fixed
for the coronation, some from fear, some out of jealousy of Abdageses,
who then ruled the court and the new king, transferred their allegiance
to Artabanus. They found him in Hyrcania, covered with filth and procuring
sustenance with his bow. He was at first alarmed under the impression
that treachery was intended, but when they pledged their honour that
they had come to restore to him his dominion, his spirit revived,
and he asked what the sudden change meant. Hiero then spoke insultingly
of the boyish years of Tiridates, hinting that the throne was not
held by an Arsacid, but that a mere empty name was enjoyed by a feeble
creature bred in foreign effeminacy, while the actual power was in
the house of Abdageses. 

An experienced king, Artabanus knew that men do not necessarily feign
hatred because they are false in friendship. He delayed only while
he was raising auxiliaries in Scythia, and then pushed on in haste,
thus anticipating the plots of enemies and the fickleness of friends.
Wishing to attract popular sympathy, he did not even cast off his
miserable garb. He stooped to wiles and to entreaties, to anything
indeed by which he might allure the wavering and confirm the willing.

He was now approaching the neighbourhood of Seleucia with a large
force, while Tiridates, dismayed by the rumour. and then by the king&apos;s
presence in person, was divided in mind, and doubted whether he should
march against him or prolong the war by delay. Those who wished for
battle with its prompt decision argued that ill-arrayed levies fatigued
by a long march could not even in heart be thoroughly united in obedience,
traitors and enemies as they had lately been, to the prince whom now
again they were supporting. Abdageses, however, advised a retreat
into Mesopotamia. There, with a river in their front, they might in
the interval summon to their aid the Armenians and Elymaeans and other
nations in their rear, and then, reinforced by allies and troops which
would be sent by the Roman general, they might try the fortune of
war. This advice prevailed, for Abdageses had the chief influence
and Tiridates was a coward in the face of danger. But their retreat
resembled a flight. The Arabs made a beginning, and then the rest
went to their homes or to the camp of Artabanus, till Tiridates returned
to Syria with a few followers and thus relieved all from the disgrace
of desertion. 

That same year Rome suffered from a terrible fire, and part of the
circus near the Aventine hill was burnt, as well as the Aventine quarter
itself. This calamity the emperor turned to his own glory by paying
the values of the houses and blocks of tenements. A hundred million
of sesterces was expended in this munificence, a boon all the more
acceptable to the populace, as Tiberius was rather sparing in building
at his private expense. He raised only two structures even at the
public cost, the temple of Augustus and the stage of Pompey&apos;s theatre,
and when these were completed, he did not dedicate them, either out
of contempt for popularity or from his extreme age. Four commissioners,
all husbands of the emperor&apos;s granddaughters- Cneius Domitius, Cassius
Longinus, Marcus Vinicius, Rubellius Blandus- were appointed to assess
the damage in each case, and Publius Petronius was added to their
number on the nomination of the consuls. Various honours were devised
and decreed to the emperor such as each man&apos;s ingenuity suggested.
It is a question which of these he rejected or accepted, as the end
of his life was so near. 

For soon afterwards Tiberius&apos;s last consuls, Cneius Acerronius and
Caius Pontius, entered on office, Macro&apos;s power being now excessive.
Every day the man cultivated more assiduously than ever the favour
of Caius Caesar, which, indeed, he had never neglected, and after
the death of Claudia, who had, as I have related, been married to
Caius, he had prompted his wife Ennia to inveigle the young prince
by a pretence of love, and to bind him by an engagement of marriage,
and the lad, provided he could secure the throne, shrank from no conditions.
For though he was of an excitable temper, he had thoroughly learnt
the falsehoods of hypocrisy under the loving care of his grandfather.

This the emperor knew, and he therefore hesitated about bequeathing
the empire, first, between his grandsons. Of these, the son of Drusus
was nearest in blood and natural affection, but he was still in his
childhood. Germanicus&apos;s son was in the vigour of youth and enjoyed
the people&apos;s favour, a reason for having his grandfather&apos;s hatred.
Tiberius had even thought of Claudius, as he was of sedate age and
had a taste for liberal culture, but a weak intellect was against
him. If however he were to seek a successor outside of his house,
he feared that the memory of Augustus and the name of the Caesars
would become a laughing-stock and a scorn. It was, in fact, not so
much popularity in the present for which he cared as for glory in
the future. 

Perplexed in mind, exhausted in body, he soon left to destiny a question
to which he was unequal, though he threw out some hints from which
it might be inferred that he foresaw what was to come. He taunted
Macro, in no obscure terms, with forsaking the setting and looking
to the rising sun. Once too when Caius Caesar in a casual conversation
ridiculed Lucius Sulla, he predicted to him that he would have all
Sulla&apos;s vices and none of his virtues. At the same moment he embraced
the younger of his two grandsons with a flood of tears, and, noting
the savage face of the other, said, &quot;You will slay this boy, and will
be yourself slain by another.&quot; But even while his strength was fast
failing he gave up none of his debaucheries. In his sufferings he
would simulate health, and was wont to jest at the arts of the physician
and at all who, after the age of thirty, require another man&apos;s advice
to distinguish between what is beneficial or hurtful to their constitutions.

At Rome meanwhile were being sown the seeds of bloodshed to come even
after Tiberius&apos;s death. Acutia, formerly the wife of Publius Vitellius,
had been accused of treason by Laelius Balbus. When on her condemnation
a reward was being voted to her prosecutor, Junius Otho, tribune of
the people, interposed his veto. Hence a feud between Vitellius and
Otho, ending in Otho&apos;s banishment. Then Albucilla, notorious for the
number of her lovers, who had been married to Satrius Secundus, the
betrayer of the late conspiracy, was charged with irreverence towards
the emperor. With her were involved as her accomplices and paramours
Cneius Domitius, Vibius Marsus and Lucius Arruntius. I have already
spoken of the illustrious rank of Domitius. Marsus too was distinguished
by the honours of his ancestors and by his own attainments. It was,
however, stated in the notes of the proceedings furnished to the Senate
that Macro had superintended the examination of the witnesses and
the torture of the slaves, and the fact that there was no letter from
the emperor against the defendants caused a suspicion that, while
he was very feeble and possibly ignorant of the matter, the charge
was to a great extent invented to gratify Macro&apos;s well-known enmity
against Arruntius. 

And so Domitius and Marsus prolonged their lives, Domitius, preparing
his defence, Marsus, having apparently resolved on starvation. Arruntius,
when his friends advised delay and temporising, replied that &quot;the
same conduct was not becoming in all persons. He had had enough of
life, and all he regretted was that he had endured amid scorn and
peril an old age of anxious fears, long detested by Sejanus, now by
Macro, always, indeed, by some powerful minister, not for any fault,
but as a man who could not tolerate gross iniquities. Granted the
possibility of passing safely through the few last days of Tiberius.
How was he to be secure under the youth of the coming sovereign? Was
it probable that, when Tiberius with his long experience of affairs
was, under the influence of absolute power, wholly perverted and changed,
Caius Caesar, who had hardly completed his boyhood, was thoroughly
ignorant and bred under the vilest training, would enter on a better
course, with Macro for his guide, who having been selected for his
superior wickedness, to crush Sejanus had by yet more numerous crimes
been the scourge of the State? He now foresaw a still more galling
slavery, and therefore sought to flee alike from the past and from
the impending future.&quot; 

While he thus spoke like a prophet, he opened his veins. What followed
will be a proof that Arruntius rightly chose death. Albucilla, having
stabbed herself with an ineffectual wound, was by the Senate&apos;s order
carried off to prison. Those who had ministered to her profligacy,
Carsidius Sacerdos, an ex-praetor, and Pontius Fregellanus were sentenced,
respectively, to transportation to an island and to loss of a senator&apos;s
rank. A like punishment was adjudged in the case of Laelius Balbus,
and, indeed, with intense satisfaction, as Balbus was noted for his
savage eloquence and his eagerness to assail the innocent.

About the same time Sextus Papinius, who belonged to a family of consular
rank, chose a sudden and shocking death, by throwing himself from
a height. The cause was ascribed to his mother who, having been repeatedly
repulsed in her overtures, had at last by her arts and seductions
driven him to an extremity from which he could find no escape but
death. She was accordingly put on her trial before the Senate, and,
although she grovelled at the knees of the senators and long urged
a parent&apos;s grief, the greater weakness of a woman&apos;s mind under such
an affliction and other sad and pitiful pleas of the same painful
kind, she was after all banished from Rome for ten years, till her
younger son would have passed the frail period of youth.

Tiberius&apos;s bodily powers were now leaving him, but not his skill in
dissembling. There was the same stern spirit; he had his words and
looks under strict control, and occasionally would try to hide his
weakness, evident as it was, by a forced politeness. After frequent
changes of place, he at last settled down on the promontory of Misenum
in a country-house once owned by Lucius Lucullus. There it was noted,
in this way, that he was drawing near his end. There was a physician,
distinguished in his profession, of the name of Charicles, usually
employed, not indeed to have the direction of the emperor&apos;s varying
health, but to put his advice at immediate disposal. This man, as
if he were leaving on business his own, clasped his hand, with a show
of homage, and touched his pulse. Tiberius noticed it. Whether he
was displeased and strove the more to hide his anger, is a question;
at any rate, he ordered the banquet to be renewed, and sat at the
table longer than usual, by way, apparently, of showing honour to
his departing friend. Charicles, however, assured Macro that his breath
was failing and that he would not last more than two days. All was
at once hurry; there were conferences among those on the spot and
despatches to the generals and armies. On the 15th of March, his breath
failing, he was believed to have expired, and Caius Caesar was going
forth with a numerous throng of congratulating followers to take the
first possession of the empire, when suddenly news came that Tiberius
was recovering his voice and sight, and calling for persons to bring
him food to revive him from his faintness. Then ensued a universal
panic, and while the rest fled hither and thither, every one feigning
grief or ignorance, Caius Caesar, in silent stupor, passed from the
highest hopes to the extremity of apprehension. Macro, nothing daunted,
ordered the old emperor to be smothered under a huge heap of clothes,
and all to quit the entrance-hall. 

And so died Tiberius, in the seventy eighth year of his age. Nero
was his father, and he was on both sides descended from the Claudian
house, though his mother passed by adoption, first into the Livian,
then into the Julian family. From earliest infancy, perilous vicissitudes
were his lot. Himself an exile, he was the companion of a proscribed
father, and on being admitted as a stepson into the house of Augustus,
he had to struggle with many rivals, so long as Marcellus and Agrippa
and, subsequently, Caius and Lucius Caesar were in their glory. Again
his brother Drusus enjoyed in a greater degree the affection of the
citizens. But he was more than ever on dangerous ground after his
marriage with Julia, whether he tolerated or escaped from his wife&apos;s
profligacy. On his return from Rhodes he ruled the emperor&apos;s now heirless
house for twelve years, and the Roman world, with absolute sway, for
about twenty-three. His character too had its distinct periods. It
was a bright time in his life and reputation, while under Augustus
he was a private citizen or held high offices; a time of reserve and
crafty assumption of virtue, as long as Germanicus and Drusus were
alive. Again, while his mother lived, he was a compound of good and
evil; he was infamous for his cruelty, though he veiled his debaucheries,
while he loved or feared Sejanus. Finally, he plunged into every wickedness
and disgrace, when fear and shame being cast off, he simply indulged
his own inclinations. 

[The four following books and the beginning of Book XI, which are
lost, contained the history of a period of nearly ten years, from
A.D. 37 to A.D. 47. These years included the reign of Caius Caesar
(Caligula), the son of Germanicus by the elder Agrippina, and the
first six years of the reign of Claudius. Caius Caesar&apos;s reign was
three years ten months and eight days in duration. Claudius (Tiberius
Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus), the brother of Germanicus, succeeded
him, at the age of fifty, and reigned from A.D. 41 to A.D. 54.

The Eleventh Book of the Annals opens with the seventh year of Claudius&apos;s
reign. The power of his wife Messalina was then at its height. She
was, it seems, jealous of a certain Poppaea Sabina, who is mentioned
in Book XIII., as &quot;having surpassed in beauty all the ladies of her
day.&quot; This Poppaea was the daughter of the Poppaeus Sabinus alluded
to in Book VI., and the mother of the more famous Poppaea, afterwards
the wife of the emperor Nero. Messalina contrived to involve this
lady and her lover, Valerius Asiaticus, in a ruinous charge. Asiaticus
had been twice consul, once under Caius Caesar, a second time under
Claudius in A.D. 46. He was rich as well as noble. The Eleventh Book,
as we have it, begins with the account of his prosecution by means
Messalina, who with the help of Lucius Vitellius, Vitellius, father
of the Vitellius, afterwards emperor, effected his ruin.]

----------------------------------------------------------------------

BOOK XI

A.D. 47, 48 

Messalina believed that Valerius Asiaticus, who had been twice consul,
was one of Poppaea&apos;s old lovers. At the same time she was looking
greedily at the gardens which Lucullus had begun and which Asiaticus
was now adorning with singular magnificence, and so she suborned Suilius
to accuse both him and Poppaea. With Suilius was associated Sosibius,
tutor to Britannicus, who was to give Claudius an apparently friendly
warning to beware of a power and wealth which threatened the throne.
Asiaticus, he said, had been the ringleader in the murder of a Caesar,
and then had not feared to face an assembly of the Roman people, to
own the deed, and challenge its glory for his own. Thus grown famous
in the capital, and with a renown widely spread through the provinces,
he was planning a journey to the armies of Germany. Born at Vienna,
and supported by numerous and powerful connections, he would find
it easy to rouse nations allied to his house. Claudius made no further
inquiry, but sent Crispinus, commander of the Praetorians, with troops
in hot haste, as though to put down a revolt. Crispinus found him
at Baiae, loaded him with chains, and hurried him to Rome.

No hearing before the Senate was granted him. It was in the emperor&apos;s
chamber, in the presence of Messalina, that he was heard. There Suilius
accused him of corrupting the troops, of binding them by bribes and
indulgences to share in every crime, of adultery with Poppaea, and
finally of unmanly vice. It was at this last that the accused broke
silence, and burst out with the words, &quot;Question thy own sons, Suilius;they
will own my manhood.&quot; Then he entered on his defence. Claudius he
moved profoundly, and he even drew tears from Messalina. But as she
left the chamber to wipe them away, she warned Vitellius not to let
the man escape. She hastened herself to effect Poppaea&apos;s destruction,
and hired agents to drive her to suicide by the terrors of a prison.
Caesar meanwhile was so unconscious that a few days afterwards he
asked her husband Scipio, who was dining with him, why he sat down
to table without his wife, and was told in reply that she had paid
the debt of nature. 

When Claudius began to deliberate about the acquittal of Asiaticus,
Vitellius, with tears in his eyes, spoke of his old friendship with
the accused, and of their joint homage to the emperor&apos;s mother, Antonia.
He then briefly reviewed the services of Asiaticus to the State, his
recent campaign in the invasion of Britain, and everything else which
seemed likely to win compassion, and suggested that he should be free
to choose his death. Claudius&apos;s reply was in the same tone of mercy.
Some friends urged on Asiaticus the quiet death of self-starvation,
but he declined it with thanks. He took his usual exercise, then bathed
and dined cheerfully, and saying that he had better have fallen by
the craft of Tiberius or the fury of Caius Caesar than by the treachery
of a woman and the shameless mouth of Vitellius, he opened his veins,
but not till he had inspected his funeral pyre, and directed its removal
to another spot, lest the smoke should hurt the thick foliage of the
trees. So complete was his calmness even to the last. 

The senators were then convoked, and Suilius proceeded to find new
victims in two knights of the first rank who bore the surname of Petra.
The real cause of their destruction was that they had lent their house
for the meetings of Mnester and Poppaea. But it was a vision of the
night that was the actual charge against one of them. He had, it was
alleged, beheld Claudius crowned with a garland of wheat, the ears
of which were turned downwards, and, from this appearance, he foretold
scanty harvests. Some have said that it was a vine-wreath, of which
the leaves were white, which he saw, and that he interpreted it to
signify the death of the emperor after the turn of autumn. It is,
however, beyond dispute that in consequence of some dream, whatever
it was, both the man and his brother perished. 

Fifteen hundred thousand sesterces and the decorations of the praetorship
were voted to Crispinus. Vitellius bestowed a million on Sosibius,
for giving Britannicus the benefit of his teaching and Claudius that
of his counsels. I may add that when Scipio was called on for his
opinion, he replied, &quot;As I think what all men think about the deeds
of Poppaea, suppose me to say what all men say.&quot; A graceful compromise
this between the affection of the husband and the necessities of the
senator. 

Suilius after this plied his accusations without cessation or pity,
and his audacity had many rivals. By assuming to himself all the functions
of laws and magistrates, the emperor had left exposed everything which
invited plunder, and of all articles of public merchandise nothing
was more venal than the treachery of advocates. Thus it happened that
one Samius, a Roman knight of the first rank, who had paid four hundred
thousand sesterces to Suilius, stabbed himself in the advocate&apos;s house,
on ascertaining his collusion with the adversary. Upon this, following
the lead of Silius, consul-elect, whose elevation and fall I shall
in due course relate, the senators rose in a body, and demanded the
enforcement of the Cincian law, an old enactment, which forbade any
one to receive a fee or a gift for pleading a cause. 

When the men, at whom this strong censure was levelled, loudly protested,
Silius, who had a quarrel with Suilius, attacked them with savage
energy. He cited as examples the orators of old who had thought fame
with posterity the fairest recompense of eloquence. And, &quot;apart from
this,&quot; he said, &quot;the first of noble accomplishments was debased by
sordid services, and even good faith could not be upheld in its integrity,
when men looked at the greatness of their gains. If law suits turned
to no one&apos;s profit, there would be fewer of them. As it was, quarrels,
accusations, hatreds and wrongs were encouraged, in order that, as
the violence of disease brings fees to the physician, so the corruption
of the forum might enrich the advocate. They should remember Caius
Asinius and Messala, and, in later days, Arruntius and Aeserninus,
men raised by a blameless life and by eloquence to the highest honours.&quot;

So spoke the consul-elect, and others agreed with him. A resolution
was being framed to bring the guilty under the law of extortion, when
Suilius and Cossutianus and the rest, who saw themselves threatened
with punishment rather than trial, for their guilt was manifest, gathered
round the emperor, and prayed forgiveness for the past. 

When he had nodded assent, they began to plead their cause. &quot;Who,&quot;
they asked, &quot;can be so arrogant as to anticipate in hope an eternity
of renown? It is for the needs and the business of life that the resource
of eloquence is acquired, thanks to which no one for want of an advocate
is at the mercy of the powerful. But eloquence cannot be obtained
for nothing; private affairs are neglected, in order that a man may
devote himself to the business of others. Some support life by the
profession of arms, some by cultivating land. No work is expected
from any one of which he has not before calculated the profits. It
was easy for Asinius and Messala, enriched with the prizes of the
conflict between Antony and Augustus, it was easy for Arruntius and
Aeserninus, the heirs of wealthy families, to assume grand airs. We
have examples at hand. How great were the fees for which Publius Clodius
and Caius Curio were wont to speak! We are ordinary senators, seeking
in the tranquillity of the State for none but peaceful gains. You
must consider the plebeian, how he gains distinction from the gown.
Take away the rewards of a profession, and the profession must perish.&quot;
The emperor thought that these arguments, though less noble, were
not without force. He limited the fee which might be taken to ten
thousand sesterces, and those who exceeded this limit were to be liable
to the penalties of extortion. 

About this same time Mithridates, of whom I have before spoken as
having ruled Armenia, and having been imprisoned by order of Caius
Caesar, made his way back to his kingdom at the suggestion of Claudius
and in reliance on the help of Pharasmanes. This Pharasmanes, who
was king of the Iberians and Mithridates&apos; brother, now told him that
the Parthians were divided, and that the highest questions of empire
being uncertain, lesser matters were neglected. Gotarzes, among his
many cruelties, had caused the death of his brother Artabanus, with
his wife and son. Hence his people feared for themselves and sent
for Vardanes. Ever ready for daring achievements, Vardanes traversed
375 miles in two days, and drove before him the surprised and terrified
Gotarzes. Without moment&apos;s delay, he seized the neighbouring governments,
Seleucia alone refusing his rule. Rage against the place, which indeed
had also revolted from his father, rather than considerations of policy,
made him embarrass himself with the siege of a strong city, which
the defence of a river flowing by it, with fortifications and supplies,
had thoroughly secured. Gotarzes meanwhile, aided by the resources
of the Dahae and Hyrcanians, renewed the war; and Vardanes, compelled
to raise the siege of Seleucia, encamped on the plains of Bactria.

Then it was that while the forces of the East were divided, and hesitated
which side they should take, the opportunity of occupying Armenia
was presented to Mithridates, who had the vigorous soldiers of Rome
to storm the fortified heights, while his Iberian cavalry scoured
the plain. The Armenians made no resistance after their governor,
Demonax, had ventured on a battle and had been routed. Cotys, king
of Lesser Armenia, to whom some of the nobles inclined, caused some
delay, but he was stopped by a despatch from Claudius, and then everything
passed into the hands of Mithridates, who showed more cruelty than
was wise in a new ruler. The Parthian princes however, just when they
were beginning battle, came to a sudden agreement, on discovering
a plot among their people, which Gotarzes revealed to his brother.
At first they approached each other with hesitation; then, joining
right hands, they promised before the altars of their gods to punish
the treachery of their enemies and to yield one to the other. Vardanes
seemed more capable of retaining rule. Gotarzes, to avoid all rivalry,
retired into the depths of Hyrcania. When Vardanes returned, Seleucia
capitulated to him, seven years after its revolt, little to the credit
of the Parthians, whom a single city had so long defied.

He then visited the strongest governments, and was eager to recover
Armenia, but was stopped by Vibius Marsus, governor of Syria, who
threatened war. Meanwhile Gotarzes, who repented of having relinquished
his throne, at the solicitation of the nobility, to whom subjection
is a special hardship in peace, collected a force. Vardanes marched
against him to the river Charinda; a fierce battle was fought over
the passage, Vardanes winning a complete victory, and in a series
of successful engagements subduing the intermediate tribes as far
as the river Sindes, which is the boundary between the Dahae and the
Arians. There his successes terminated. The Parthians, victorious
though they were, rebelled against distant service. So after erecting
monuments on which he recorded his greatness, and the tribute won
from peoples from whom no Arsacid had won it before, he returned covered
with glory, and therefore the more haughty and more intolerable to
his subjects than ever. They arranged a plot, and slew him when he
was off his guard and intent upon the chase. He was still in his first
youth, and might have been one of the illustrious few among aged princes,
had he sought to be loved by his subjects as much as to be feared
by his foes. 

The murder of Vardanes threw the affairs of Parthia into confusion,
as the people were in doubt who should be summoned to the throne.
Many inclined to Gotarzes, some to Meherdates, a descendant of Phraates,
who was a hostage in our hands. Finally Gotarzes prevailed. Established
in the palace, he drove the Parthians by his cruelty and profligacy
to send a secret entreaty to the Roman emperor that Meherdates might
be allowed to mount the throne of his ancestors. 

It was during this consulship, in the eight hundredth year after the
foundation of Rome and the sixty-fourth after their celebration by
Augustus that the secular games were exhibited. I say nothing of the
calculations of the two princes, which I have sufficiently discussed
in my history of the emperor Domitian; for he also exhibited secular
games, at which indeed, being one of the priesthood of the Fifteen
and praetor at the time, I specially assisted. It is in no boastful
spirit that I mention this, but because this duty has immemorially
belonged to the College of the Fifteen, and the praetors have performed
the chief functions in these ceremonies. While Claudius sat to witness
the games of the circus, some of the young nobility acted on horseback
the battle of Troy. Among them was Britannicus, the emperor&apos;s son,
and Lucius Domitius, who became soon afterwards by adoption heir to
the empire with the surname of Nero. The stronger popular enthusiasm
which greeted him was taken to presage his greatness. It was commonly
reported that snakes had been seen by his cradle, which they seemed
to guard, a fabulous tale invented to match the marvels of other lands.
Nero, never a disparager of himself, was wont to say that but one
snake, at most, had been seen in his chamber. 

Something however of popular favour was bequeathed to him from the
remembrance of Germanicus, whose only male descendant he was, and
the pity felt for his mother Agrippina was increased by the cruelty
of Messalina, who, always her enemy, and then more furious than ever,
was only kept from planning an accusation and suborning informers
by a new and almost insane passion. She had grown so frantically enamoured
of Caius Silius, the handsomest of the young nobility of Rome, that
she drove from his bed Junia Silana, a high-born lady, and had her
lover wholly to herself. Silius was not unconscious of his wickedness
and his peril; but a refusal would have insured destruction, and he
had some hope of escaping exposure; the prize too was great, so he
consoled himself by awaiting the future and enjoying the present.
As for her, careless of concealment, she went continually with a numerous
retinue to his house, she haunted his steps, showered on him wealth
and honours, and, at last, as though empire had passed to another,
the slaves, the freedmen, the very furniture of the emperor were to
be seen in the possession of the paramour. 

Claudius meanwhile, who knew nothing about his wife, and was busy
with his functions as censor, published edicts severely rebuking the
lawlessness of the people in the theatre, when they insulted Caius
Pomponius, an ex-consul, who furnished verses for the stage, and certain
ladies of rank. He introduced too a law restraining the cruel greed
of the usurers, and forbidding them to lend at interest sums repayable
on a father&apos;s death. He also conveyed by an aqueduct into Rome the
waters which flow from the hills of Simbrua. And he likewise invented
and published for use some new letters, having discovered, as he said,
that even the Greek alphabet had not been completed at once.

It was the Egyptians who first symbolized ideas, and that by the figures
of animals. These records, the most ancient of all human history,
are still seen engraved on stone. The Egyptians also claim to have
invented the alphabet, which the Phoenicians, they say, by means of
their superior seamanship, introduced into Greece, and of which they
appropriated the glory, giving out that they had discovered what they
had really been taught. Tradition indeed says that Cadmus, visiting
Greece in a Phoenician fleet, was the teacher of this art to its yet
barbarous tribes. According to one account, it was Cecrops of Athens
or Linus of Thebes, or Palamedes of Argos in Trojan times who invented
the shapes of sixteen letters, and others, chiefly Simonides, added
the rest. In Italy the Etrurians learnt them from Demaratus of Corinth,
and the Aborigines from the Arcadian Evander. And so the Latin letters
have the same form as the oldest Greek characters. At first too our
alphabet was scanty, and additions were afterwards made. Following
this precedent Claudius added three letters, which were employed during
his reign and subsequently disused. These may still be seen on the
tablets of brass set up in the squares and temples, on which new statutes
are published. 

Claudius then brought before the Senate the subject of the college
of &quot;haruspices,&quot; that, as he said, &quot;the oldest of Italian sciences
might not be lost through negligence. It had often happened in evil
days for the State that advisers had been summoned at whose suggestion
ceremonies had been restored and observed more duly for the future.
The nobles of Etruria, whether of their own accord or at the instigation
of the Roman Senate, had retained this science, making it the inheritance
of distinct families. It was now less zealously studied through the
general indifference to all sound learning and to the growth of foreign
superstitions. At present all is well, but we must show gratitude
to the favour of Heaven, by taking care that the rites observed during
times of peril may not be forgotten in prosperity.&quot; A resolution of
the Senate was accordingly passed, charging the pontiffs to see what
should be retained or reformed with respect to the &quot;haruspices.&quot;

It was in this same year that the Cherusci asked Rome for a king.
They had lost all their nobles in their civil wars, and there was
left but one scion of the royal house, Italicus by name, who lived
at Rome. On the father&apos;s side he was descended from Flavus, the brother
of Arminius; his mother was a daughter of Catumerus, chief of the
Chatti. The youth himself was of distinguished beauty, a skilful horseman
and swordsman both after our fashion and that of his country. So the
emperor made him a present of money, furnished him with an escort,
and bade him enter with a good heart on the honours of his house.
&quot;Never before,&quot; he said, &quot;had a native of Rome, no hostage but a citizen,
gone to mount a foreign throne.&quot; At first his arrival was welcome
to the Germans, and they crowded to pay him court, for he was untainted
by any spirit of faction, and showed the same hearty goodwill to all,
practising sometimes the courtesy and temperance which can never offend,
but oftener those excesses of wine and lust in which barbarians delight.
He was winning fame among his neighbours and even far beyond them,
when some who had found their fortune in party feuds, jealous of his
power, fled to the tribes on the border, protesting that Germany was
being robbed of her ancient freedom, and that the might of Rome was
on the rise. &quot;Is there really,&quot; they said, &quot;no native of this country
to fill the place of king without raising the son of the spy Flavus
above all his fellows? It is idle to put forward the name of Arminius.
Had even the son of Arminius come to the throne after growing to manhood
on a hostile soil, he might well be dreaded, corrupted as he would
be by the bread of dependence, by slavery, by luxury, by all foreign
habits. But if Italicus had his father&apos;s spirit, no man, be it remembered,
had ever waged war against his country and his home more savagely
than that father.&quot; By these and like appeals they collected a large
force. No less numerous were the partisans of Italicus. &quot;He was no
intruder,&quot; they said, &quot;on an unwilling people; he had obeyed a call.
Superior as he was to all others in noble birth, should they not put
his valour to the test, and see whether he showed himself worthy of
his uncle Arminius and his grandfather Catumerus? He need not blush
because his father had never relinquished the loyalty which, with
the consent of the Germans, he had promised to Rome. The name of liberty
was a lying pretext in the mouths of men who, base in private, dangerous
in public life, had nothing to hope except from civil discord.&quot;

The people enthusiastically applauded him. After a fierce conflict
among the barbarians, the king was victorious. Subsequently, in his
good fortune, he fell into a despot&apos;s pride, was dethroned, was restored
by the help of the Langobardi, and still, in prosperity or adversity,
did mischief to the interests of the Cheruscan nation. 

It was during the same period that the Chauci, free, as it happened,
from dissension at home and emboldened by the death of Sanquinius,
made, while Corbulo was on his way, an inroad into Lower Germany,
under the leadership of Gannascus. This man was of the tribe of the
Canninefates, had served long as our auxiliary, had then deserted,
and, getting some light vessels, had made piratical descents specially
on the coast of Gaul, inhabited, he knew, by a wealthy and unwarlike
population. Corbulo meanwhile entered the province with careful preparation
and soon winning a renown of which that campaign was the beginning,
he brought his triremes up the channel of the Rhine and the rest of
his vessels up the estuaries and canals to which they were adapted.
Having sunk the enemy&apos;s flotilla, driven out Gannascus, and brought
everything into good order, he restored the discipline of former days
among legions which had forgotten the labours and toils of the soldier
and delighted only in plunder. No one was to fall out of the line;
no one was to fight without orders. At the outposts, on guard, in
the duties of day and of night, they were always to be under arms.
One soldier, it was said, had suffered death for working at the trenches
without his sword, another for wearing nothing as he dug, but his
poniard. These extreme and possibly false stories at least had their
origin in the general&apos;s real severity. We may be sure that he was
strict and implacable to serious offences, when such sternness in
regard to trifles could be believed of him. 

The fear thus inspired variously affected his own troops and the enemy.
Our men gained fresh valour; the barbarians felt their pride broken.
The Frisians, who had been hostile or disloyal since the revolt which
had been begun by the defeat of Lucius Apronius, gave hostages and
settled down on territories marked out by Corbulo, who, at the same
time, gave them a senate, magistrates, and a constitution. That they
might not throw off their obedience, he built a fort among them, while
he sent envoys to invite the Greater Chauci to submission and to destroy
Gannascus by stratagem. This stealthy attempt on the life of a deserter
and a traitor was not unsuccessful, nor was it anything ignoble. Yet
the Chauci were violently roused by the man&apos;s death, and Corbulo was
now sowing the seeds of another revolt, thus getting a reputation
which many liked, but of which many thought ill. &quot;Why,&quot; men asked,
&quot;was he irritating the foe? His disasters will fall on the State.
If he is successful, so famous a hero will be a danger to peace, and
a formidable subject for a timid emperor.&quot; Claudius accordingly forbade
fresh attacks on Germany, so emphatically as to order the garrisons
to be withdrawn to the left bank of the Rhine. 

Corbulo was actually preparing to encamp on hostile soil when the
despatch reached him. Surprised, as he was, and many as were the thoughts
which crowded on him, thoughts of peril from the emperor, of scorn
from the barbarians, of ridicule from the allies, he said nothing
but this, &quot;Happy the Roman generals of old,&quot; and gave the signal for
retreat. To keep his soldiers free from sloth, he dug a canal of twenty-three
miles in length between the Rhine and the Meuse, as a means of avoiding
the uncertain perils of the ocean. The emperor, though he had forbidden
war, yet granted him triumphal distinctions. 

Soon afterwards Curtius Rufus obtained the same honour. He had opened
mines in the territory of the Mattiaci for working certain veins of
silver. The produce was small and soon exhausted. The toil meanwhile
of the legions was only to a loss, while they dug channels for water
and constructed below the surface works which are difficult enough
in the open air. Worn out by the labour, and knowing that similar
hardships were endured in several provinces, the soldiers wrote a
secret despatch in the name of the armies, begging the emperor to
give in advance triumphal distinctions to one to whom he was about
to entrust his forces. 

Of the birth of Curtius Rufus, whom some affirm to have been the son
of a gladiator, I would not publish a falsehood, while I shrink from
telling the truth. On reaching manhood he attached himself to a quaestor
to whom Africa had been allotted, and was walking alone at midday
in some unfrequented arcade in the town of Adrumetum, when he saw
a female figure of more than human stature, and heard a voice, &quot;Thou,
Rufus, art the man who will one day come into this province as proconsul.&quot;
Raised high in hope by such a presage, he returned to Rome, where,
through the lavish expenditure of his friends and his own vigorous
ability, he obtained the quaestorship, and, subsequently, in competition
with well-born candidates, the praetorship, by the vote of the emperor
Tiberius, who threw a veil over the discredit of his origin, saying,
&quot;Curtius Rufus seems to me to be his own ancestor.&quot; Afterwards, throughout
a long old age of surly sycophancy to those above him, of arrogance
to those beneath him, and of moroseness among his equals, he gained
the high office of the consulship, triumphal distinctions, and, at
last, the province of Africa. There he died, and so fulfilled the
presage of his destiny. 

At Rome meanwhile, without any motive then known or subsequently ascertained,
Cneius Nonius, a Roman knight, was found wearing a sword amid a crowd
who were paying their respects to the emperor. The man confessed his
own guilt when he was being torn in pieces by torture, but gave up
no accomplices, perhaps having none to hide. 

During the same consulship, Publius Dolabella proposed that a spectacle
of gladiators should be annually exhibited at the cost of those who
obtained the quaestorship. In our ancestors&apos; days this honour had
been a reward of virtue, and every citizen, with good qualities to
support him, was allowed to compete for office. At first there were
no distinctions even of age, which prevented a man in his early youth
from becoming a consul or a dictator. The quaestors indeed were appointed
while the kings still ruled, and this the revival by Brutus of the
lex curiata plainly shows. The consuls retained the power of selecting
them, till the people bestowed this office as well as others. The
first so created were Valerius Potitus and Aemilius Mamercus sixty-three
years after the expulsion of the Tarquins, and they were to be attached
to the war-department. As the public business increased, two more
were appointed to attend to affairs at Rome. This number was again
doubled, when to the contributions of Italy was added the tribute
of the provinces. Subsequently Sulla, by one of his laws, provided
that twenty should be elected to fill up the Senate, to which he had
intrusted judicial functions. These functions the knights afterwards
recovered, but the quaestorship was obtained, without expense, by
merit in the candidates or by the good nature of the electors, till
at Dolabella&apos;s suggestion it was, so to speak, put up to sale.

In the consulship of Aulus Vitellius and Lucius Vipstanus the question
of filling up the Senate was discussed, and the chief men of Gallia
Comata, as it was called, who had long possessed the rights of allies
and of Roman citizens, sought the privilege of obtaining public offices
at Rome. There was much talk of every kind on the subject, and it
was argued before the emperor with vehement opposition. &quot;Italy,&quot; it
was asserted, &quot;is not so feeble as to be unable to furnish its own
capital with a senate. Once our native-born citizens sufficed for
peoples of our own kin, and we are by no means dissatisfied with the
Rome of the past. To this day we cite examples, which under our old
customs the Roman character exhibited as to valour and renown. Is
it a small thing that Veneti and Insubres have already burst into
the Senate-house, unless a mob of foreigners, a troop of captives,
so to say, is now forced upon us? What distinctions will be left for
the remnants of our noble houses, or for any impoverished senators
from Latium? Every place will be crowded with these millionaires,
whose ancestors of the second and third generations at the head of
hostile tribes destroyed our armies with fire and sword, and actually
besieged the divine Julius at Alesia. These are recent memories. What
if there were to rise up the remembrance of those who fell in Rome&apos;s
citadel and at her altar by the hands of these same barbarians! Let
them enjoy indeed the title of citizens, but let them not vulgarise
the distinctions of the Senate and the honours of office.&quot;

These and like arguments failed to impress the emperor. He at once
addressed himself to answer them, and thus harangued the assembled
Senate. &quot;My ancestors, the most ancient of whom was made at once a
citizen and a noble of Rome, encourage me to govern by the same policy
of transferring to this city all conspicuous merit, wherever found.
And indeed I know, as facts, that the Julii came from Alba, the Coruncanii
from Camerium, the Porcii from Tusculum, and not to inquire too minutely
into the past, that new members have been brought into the Senate
from Etruria and Lucania and the whole of Italy, that Italy itself
was at last extended to the Alps, to the end that not only single
persons but entire countries and tribes might be united under our
name. We had unshaken peace at home; we prospered in all our foreign
relations, in the days when Italy beyond the Po was admitted to share
our citizenship, and when, enrolling in our ranks the most vigorous
of the provincials, under colour of settling our legions throughout
the world, we recruited our exhausted empire. Are we sorry that the
Balbi came to us from Spain, and other men not less illustrious from
Narbon Gaul? Their descendants are still among us, and do not yield
to us in patriotism. 

&quot;What was the ruin of Sparta and Athens, but this, that mighty as
they were in war, they spurned from them as aliens those whom they
had conquered? Our founder Romulus, on the other hand, was so wise
that he fought as enemies and then hailed as fellow-citizens several
nations on the very same day. Strangers have reigned over us. That
freedmen&apos;s sons should be intrusted with public offices is not, as
many wrongly think, a sudden innovation, but was a common practice
in the old commonwealth. But, it will be said, we have fought with
the Senones. I suppose then that the Volsci and Aequi never stood
in array against us. Our city was taken by the Gauls. Well, we also
gave hostages to the Etruscans, and passed under the yoke of the Samnites.
On the whole, if you review all our wars, never has one been finished
in a shorter time than that with the Gauls. Thenceforth they have
preserved an unbroken and loyal peace. United as they now are with
us by manners, education, and intermarriage, let them bring us their
gold and their wealth rather than enjoy it in isolation. Everything,
Senators, which we now hold to be of the highest antiquity, was once
new. Plebeian magistrates came after patrician; Latin magistrates
after plebeian; magistrates of other Italian peoples after Latin.
This practice too will establish itself, and what we are this day
justifying by precedents, will be itself a precedent.&quot; 

The emperor&apos;s speech was followed by a decree of the Senate, and the
Aedui were the first to obtain the right of becoming senators at Rome.
This compliment was paid to their ancient alliance, and to the fact
that they alone of the Gauls cling to the name of brothers of the
Roman people. 

About the same time the emperor enrolled in the ranks of the patricians
such senators as were of the oldest families, and such as had had
distinguished ancestors. There were now but scanty relics of the Greater
Houses of Romulus and of the Lesser Houses of Lucius Brutus, as they
had been called, and those too were exhausted which the Dictator Caesar
by the Cassian and the emperor Augustus by the Saenian law had chosen
into their place. These acts, as being welcome to the State, were
undertaken with hearty gladness by the imperial censor. Anxiously
considering how he was to rid the Senate of men of notorious infamy,
he preferred a gentle method, recently devised, to one which accorded
with the sternness of antiquity, and advised each to examine his own
case and seek the privilege of laying aside his rank. Permission,
he said, would be readily obtained. He would publish in the same list
those who had been expelled and those who had been allowed to retire,
that by this confounding together of the decision of the censors and
the modesty of voluntary resignation the disgrace might be softened.

For this, the consul Vipstanus moved that Claudius should be called
&quot;Father of the Senate.&quot; The title of &quot;Father of the Country&quot; had,
he argued, been indiscriminately bestowed; new services ought to be
recognized by unusual titles. The emperor, however, himself stopped
the consul&apos;s flattery, as extravagant. He closed the lustrum, the
census for which gave a total of 5,984,072 citizens. Then too ended
his blindness as to his domestic affairs. He was soon compelled to
notice and punish his wife&apos;s infamies, till he afterwards craved passionately
for an unhallowed union. 

Messalina, now grown weary of the very facility of her adulteries,
was rushing into strange excesses, when even Silius, either through
some fatal infatuation or because he imagined that, amid the dangers
which hung over him, danger itself was the best safety, urged the
breaking off of all concealment. &quot;They were not,&quot; he said, &quot;in such
an extremity as to have to wait for the emperor&apos;s old age. Harmless
measures were for the innocent. Crime once exposed had no refuge but
in audacity. They had accomplices in all who feared the same fate.
For himself, as he had neither wife nor child, he was ready to marry
and to adopt Britannicus. Messalina would have the same power as before,
with the additional advantage of a quiet mind, if only they took Claudius
by surprise, who, though unsuspicious of treachery, was hasty in his
wrath.&quot; 

The suggestion was coldly received, not because the lady loved her
husband, but from a fear that Silius, after attaining his highest
hopes, would spurn an adulteress, and soon estimate at its true value
the crime which in the midst of peril he had approved. But she craved
the name of wife, for the sake of the monstrous infamy, that last
source of delight to the reckless. She waited only till Claudius set
out for Ostia to perform a sacrifice, and then celebrated all the
solemnities of marriage. 

I am well aware that it will seem a fable that any persons in the
world could have been so obtuse in a city which knows everything and
hides nothing, much more, that these persons should have been a consul-elect
and the emperor&apos;s wife; that, on an appointed day, before witnesses
duly summoned, they should have come together as if for the purpose
of legitimate marriage; that she should have listened to the words
of the bridegroom&apos;s friends, should have sacrificed to the gods, have
taken her place among a company of guests, have lavished her kisses
and caresses, and passed the night in the freedom which marriage permits.
But this is no story to excite wonder; I do but relate what I have
heard and what our fathers have recorded. 

The emperor&apos;s court indeed shuddered, its powerful personages especially,
the men who had much to fear from a revolution. From secret whisperings
they passed to loud complaints. &quot;When an actor,&quot; they said, &quot;impudently
thrust himself into the imperial chamber, it certainly brought scandal
on the State, but we were a long way from ruin. Now, a young noble
of stately beauty, of vigorous intellect, with the near prospect of
the consulship, is preparing himself for a loftier ambition. There
can be no secret about what is to follow such a marriage.&quot; Doubtless
there was thrill of alarm when they thought of the apathy of Claudius,
of his devotion to his wife and of the many murders perpetrated at
Messalina&apos;s bidding. On the other hand, the very good nature of the
emperor inspired confident hope that if they could overpower him by
the enormity of the charge, she might be condemned and crushed before
she was accused. The critical point was this, that he should not hear
her defence, and that his ears should be shut even against her confession.

At first Callistus, of whom I have already spoken in connection with
the assassination of Caius Caesar, Narcissus, who had contrived the
death of Appius, and Pallas, who was then in the height of favour,
debated whether they might not by secret threats turn Messalina from
her passion for Silius, while they concealed all else. Then fearing
that they would be themselves involved in ruin, they abandoned the
idea, Pallas out of cowardice, and Callistus, from his experience
of a former court, remembering that prudent rather than vigorous counsels
insure the maintenance of power. Narcissus persevered, only so far
changing his plan as not to make her aware beforehand by a single
word what was the charge or who was the accuser. Then he eagerly watched
his opportunity, and, as the emperor lingered long at Ostia, he sought
two of the mistresses to whose society Claudius was especially partial,
and, by gifts, by promises, by dwelling on power increased by the
wife&apos;s fall, he induced them to undertake the work of the informer.

On this, Calpurnia (that was the woman&apos;s name), as soon as she was
allowed a private interview, threw herself at the emperor&apos;s knees,
crying out that Messalina was married to Silius. At the same time
she asked Cleopatra, who was standing near and waiting for the question,
whether she knew it. Cleopatra nodding assent, she begged that Narcissus
might be summoned. Narcissus entreated pardon for the past, for having
concealed the scandal while confined to a Vettius or a Plautius. Even
now, he said, he would not make charges of adultery, and seem to be
asking back the palace, the slaves, and the other belongings of imperial
rank. These Silius might enjoy; only, he must give back the wife and
annul the act of marriage. &quot;Do you know,&quot; he said &quot;of your divorce?
The people, the army, the Senate saw the marriage of Silius. Act at
once, or the new husband is master of Rome.&quot; 

Claudius then summoned all his most powerful friends. First he questioned
Turranius, superintendent of the corn market; next, Lusius Geta, who
commanded the praetorians. When they confessed the truth, the whole
company clamoured in concert that he must go to the camp, must assure
himself of the praetorian cohorts, must think of safety before he
thought of vengeance. It is quite certain that Claudius was so overwhelmed
by terror that he repeatedly asked whether he was indeed in possession
of the empire, whether Silius was still a subject. 

Messalina meanwhile, more wildly profligate than ever, was celebrating
in mid-autumn a representation of the vintage in her new home. The
presses were being trodden; the vats were overflowing; women girt
with skins were dancing, as Bacchanals dance in their worship or their
frenzy. Messalina with flowing hair shook the thyrsus, and Silius
at her side, crowned with ivy and wearing the buskin, moved his head
to some lascivious chorus. It is said that one Vettius Valens climbed
a very lofty tree in sport, and when they asked him what he saw, replied,
&quot;A terrible storm from Ostia.&quot; Possibly such appearance had begun;
perhaps, a word dropped by chance became a prophecy. 

Meanwhile no mere rumour but messengers from all parts brought the
news that everything was known to Claudius, and that he was coming,
bent on vengeance. Messalina upon this went to the gardens of Lucullus;
Silius, to conceal his fear, to his business in the forum. The other
guests were flying in all directions when the centurions appeared
and put every one in irons where they found them, either in the public
streets or in hiding. Messalina, though her peril took away all power
of thought, promptly resolved to meet and face her husband, a course
in which she had often found safety; while she bade Britannicus and
Octavia hasten to embrace their father. She besought Vibidia, the
eldest of the Vestal Virgins, to demand audience of the supreme pontiff
and to beg for mercy. Meanwhile, with only three companions, so lonely
did she find herself in a moment, she traversed the whole length of
the city, and, mounting on a cart used to remove garden refuse, proceeded
along the road to Ostia; not pitied, so overpoweringly hideous were
her crimes, by a single person. 

There was equal alarm on the emperor&apos;s side. They put but little trust
in Geta, who commanded the praetorians, a man swayed with good case
to good or evil. Narcissus in concert with others who dreaded the
same fate, declared that the only hope of safety for the emperor lay
in his transferring for that one day the command of the soldiers to
one of the freedmen, and he offered to undertake it himself. And that
Claudius might not be induced by Lucius Vitellius and Largus Caecina
to repent, while he was riding into Rome, he asked and took a seat
in the emperor&apos;s carriage. 

It was currently reported in after times that while the emperor broke
into contradictory exclamations, now inveighing against the infamies
of his wife, and now, returning in thought to the remembrance of his
love and of his infant children, Vitellius said nothing but, &quot;What
audacity! what wickedness!&quot; Narcissus indeed kept pressing him to
clear up his ambiguities and let the truth be known, but still he
could not prevail upon him to utter anything that was not vague and
susceptible of any meaning which might be put on it, or upon Largus
Caecina, to do anything but follow his example. And now Messalina
had presented herself, and was insisting that the emperor should listen
to the mother of Octavia and Britannicus, when the accuser roared
out at her the story of Silius and her marriage. At the same moment,
to draw Caesar&apos;s eyes away from her, he handed him some papers which
detailed her debaucheries. Soon afterwards, as he was entering Rome,
his children by Messalina were to have shown themselves, had not Narcissus
ordered their removal. Vibidia he could not repel, when, with a vehemently
indignant appeal, she demanded that a wife should not be given up
to death without a hearing. So Narcissus replied that the emperor
would hear her, and that she should have an opportunity of disproving
the charge. Meanwhile the holy virgin was to go and discharge her
sacred duties. 

All throughout, Claudius preserved a strange silence; Vitellius seemed
unconscious. Everything was under the freedman&apos;s control. By his order,
the paramour&apos;s house was thrown open and the emperor conducted thither.
First, on the threshold, he pointed out the statue of Silius&apos;s father,
which a decree of the Senate had directed to be destroyed; next, how
the heirlooms of the Neros and the Drusi had been degraded into the
price of infamy. Then he led the emperor, furious and bursting out
in menace, into the camp, where the soldiers were purposely assembled.
Claudius spoke to them a few words at the dictation of Narcissus.
Shame indeed checked the utterance even of a righteous anger. Instantly
there came a shout from the cohorts, demanding the names of the culprits
and their punishment. Brought before the tribunal, Silius sought neither
defence nor delay, but begged that his death might be hastened. A
like courage made several Roman knights of the first rank desirous
of a speedy doom. Titius Proculus, who had been appointed to watch
Messalina and was now offering his evidence, Vettius Valens, who confessed
his guilt, together with Pompeius Urbicus and Saufellus Trogus from
among her accomplices, were ordered to execution. Decius Calpurnianus
too, commander of the watch, Sulpicius Rufus, who had the charge of
the Games, and Juncus Virgilianus, a senator, were similarly punished.

Mnester alone occasioned a pause. Rending off his clothes, he insisted
on Claudius looking at the scars of his stripes and remembering his
words when he surrendered himself, without reserve, to Messalina&apos;s
bidding. The guilt of others had been the result of presents or of
large promises; his, of necessity. He must have been the first victim
had Silius obtained empire. 

Caesar was touched by his appeal and inclined to mercy, but his freedmen
prevailed on him not to let any indulgence be shown to a player when
so many illustrious citizens had fallen. &quot;It mattered not whether
he had sinned so greatly from choice or compulsion.&quot; Even the defence
of Traulus Montanus, a Roman knight, was not admitted. A young man
of pure life, yet of singular beauty, he had been summoned and dismissed
within the space of one night by Messalina, who was equally capricious
in her passions and dislikes. In the cases of Suilius Caesoninus and
Plautius Lateranus, the extreme penalty was remitted. The latter was
saved by the distinguished services of his uncle; the former by his
very vices, having amid that abominable throng submitted to the worst
degradation. 

Messalina meanwhile, in the gardens of Lucullus, was struggling for
life, and writing letters of entreaty, as she alternated between hope
arid fury. In her extremity, it was her pride alone which forsook
her. Had not Narcissus hurried on her death, ruin would have recoiled
on her accuser. Claudius had returned home to an early banquet; then,
in softened mood, when the wine had warmed him, he bade some one go
and tell the &quot;poor creature&quot; (this is the word which they say he used)
to come the morrow and plead her cause. Hearing this, seeing too that
his wrath was subsiding and his passion returning, and fearing, in
the event of delay, the effect of approaching night and conjugal recollections,
Narcissus rushed out, and ordered the centurions and the tribunes,
who were on guard, to accomplish the deed of blood. Such, he said,
was the emperor&apos;s bidding. Evodus, one of the freedmen, was appointed
to watch and complete the affair. Hurrying on before with all speed
to the gardens, he found Messalina stretched upon the ground, while
by her side sat Lepida, her mother, who, though estranged from her
daughter in prosperity, was now melted to pity by her inevitable doom,
and urged her not to wait for the executioner. &quot;Life,&quot; she said, &quot;was
over; all that could be looked for was honour in death.&quot; But in that
heart, utterly corrupted by profligacy, nothing noble remained. She
still prolonged her tears and idle complaints, till the gates were
forced open by the rush of the new comers, and there stood at her
side the tribune, sternly silent, and the freedman, overwhelming her
with the copious insults of a servile tongue. 

Then for the first time she understood her fate and put her hand to
a dagger. In her terror she was applying it ineffectually to her throat
and breast, when a blow from the tribune drove it through her. Her
body was given up to her mother. Claudius was still at the banquet
when they told him that Messalina was dead, without mentioning whether
it was by her own or another&apos;s hand. Nor did he ask the question,
but called for the cup and finished his repast as usual. During the
days which followed he showed no sign of hatred or joy or anger or
sadness, in a word, of any human emotion, either when he looked on
her triumphant accusers or on her weeping children. The Senate assisted
his forgetfulness by decreeing that her name and her statues should
be removed from all places, public or private. To Narcissus were voted
the decorations of the quaestorship, a mere trifle to the pride of
one who rose in the height of his power above Pallas and Callistus.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

BOOK XII

A.D. 48-54 

The destruction of Messalina shook the imperial house; for a strife
arose among the freedmen, who should choose a wife for Claudius, impatient
as he was of a single life and submissive to the rule of wives. The
ladies were fired with no less jealousy. Each insisted on her rank,
beauty, and fortune, and pointed to her claims to such a marriage.
But the keenest competition was between Lollia Paulina, the daughter
of Marcus Lollius, an ex-consul, and Julia Agrippina, the daughter
of Germanicus. Callistus favoured the first, Pallas the second. Aelia
Paetina however, of the family of the Tuberones, had the support of
Narcissus. The emperor, who inclined now one way, now another, as
he listened to this or that adviser, summoned the disputants to a
conference and bade them express their opinions and give their reasons.

Narcissus dwelt on the marriage of years gone by, on the tie of offspring,
for Paetina was the mother of Antonia, and on the advantage of excluding
a new element from his household, by the return of a wife to whom
he was accustomed, and who would assuredly not look with a stepmother&apos;s
animosity on Britannicus and Octavia, who were next in her affections
to her own children. Callistus argued that she was compromised by
her long separation, and that were she to be taken back, she would
be supercilious on the strength of it. It would be far better to introduce
Lollia, for, as she had no children of her own, she would be free
from jealousy, and would take the place of a mother towards her stepchildren.

Pallas again selected Agrippina for special commendation because she
would bring with her Germanicus&apos;s grandson, who was thoroughly worthy
of imperial rank, the scion of a noble house and a link to unite the
descendants of the Claudian family. He hoped that a woman who was
the mother of many children and still in the freshness of youth, would
not carry off the grandeur of the Caesars to some other house.

This advice prevailed, backed up as it was by Agrippina&apos;s charms.
On the pretext of her relationship, she paid frequent visits to her
uncle, and so won his heart, that she was preferred to the others,
and, though not yet his wife, already possessed a wife&apos;s power. For
as soon as she was sure of her marriage, she began to aim at greater
things, and planned an alliance between Domitius, her son by Cneius
Aenobarbus, and Octavia, the emperor&apos;s daughter. This could not be
accomplished without a crime, for the emperor had betrothed Octavia
to Lucius Silanus, a young man otherwise famous, whom he had brought
forward as a candidate for popular favour by the honour of triumphal
distinctions and by a magnificent gladiatorial show. But no difficulty
seemed to be presented by the temper of a sovereign who had neither
partialities nor dislikes, but such as were suggested and dictated
to him. 

Vitellius accordingly, who used the name of censor to screen a slave&apos;s
trickeries, and looked forward to new despotisms, already impending,
associated himself in Agrippina&apos;s plans, with a view to her favour,
and began to bring charges against Silanus, whose sister, Junia Calvina,
a handsome and lively girl, had shortly before become his daughter-in-law.
Here was a starting point for an accuser. Vitellius put an infamous
construction on the somewhat incautious though not criminal love between
the brother and sister. The emperor listened, for his affection for
his daughter inclined him the more to admit suspicions against his
son-in-law. Silanus meanwhile, who knew nothing of the plot, and happened
that year to be praetor, was suddenly expelled from the Senate by
an edict of Vitellius, though the roll of Senators had been recently
reviewed and the lustrum closed. Claudius at the same time broke off
the connection; Silanus was forced to resign his office, and the one
remaining day of his praetorship was conferred on Eprius Marcellus.

In the year of the consulship of Caius Pompeius and Quintus Veranius,
the marriage arranged between Claudius and Agrippina was confirmed
both by popular rumour and by their own illicit love. Still, they
did not yet dare to celebrate the nuptials in due form, for there
was no precedent for the introduction of a niece into an uncle&apos;s house.
It was positively incest, and if disregarded, it would, people feared,
issue in calamity to the State. These scruples ceased not till Vitellius
undertook the management of the matter in his own way. He asked the
emperor whether he would yield to the recommendations of the people
and to the authority of the Senate. When Claudius replied that he
was one among the citizens and could not resist their unanimous voice,
Vitellius requested him to wait in the palace, while he himself went
to the Senate. Protesting that the supreme interest of the commonwealth
was at stake, he begged to be allowed to speak first, and then began
to urge that the very burdensome labours of the emperor in a world-wide
administration, required assistance, so that, free from domestic cares,
he might consult the public welfare. How again could there be a more
virtuous relief for the mind of an imperial censor than the taking
of a wife to share his prosperity and his troubles, to whom he might
intrust his inmost thoughts and the care of his young children, unused
as he was to luxury and pleasure, and wont from his earliest youth
to obey the laws. 

Vitellius, having first put forward these arguments in a conciliatory
speech, and met with decided acquiescence from the Senate, began afresh
to point out, that, as they all recommended the emperor&apos;s marriage,
they ought to select a lady conspicuous for noble rank and purity,
herself too the mother of children. &quot;It cannot,&quot; he said, &quot;be long
a question that Agrippina stands first in nobility of birth. She has
given proof too that she is not barren, and she has suitable moral
qualities. It is, again, a singular advantage to us, due to divine
providence, for a widow to be united to an emperor who has limited
himself to his own lawful wives. We have heard from our fathers, we
have ourselves seen that married women were seized at the caprice
of the Caesars. This is quite alien to the propriety of our day. Rather
let a precedent be now set for the taking of a wife by an emperor.
But, it will be said, marriage with a brother&apos;s daughter is with us
a novelty. True; but it is common in other countries, and there is
no law to forbid it. Marriages of cousins were long unknown, but after
a time they became frequent. Custom adapts itself to expediency, and
this novelty will hereafter take its place among recognized usages.&quot;

There were some who rushed out of the Senate passionately protesting
that if the emperor hesitated, they would use violence. A promiscuous
throng assembled, and kept exclaiming that the same too was the prayer
of the Roman people. Claudius without further delay presented himself
in the forum to their congratulations; then entering the Senate, he
asked from them a decree which should decide that for the future marriages
between uncles and brothers&apos; daughters should be legal. There was,
however, found only one person who desired such a marriage, Alledius
Severus, a Roman knight, who, as many said, was swayed by the influence
of Agrippina. Then came a revolution in the State, and everything
was under the control of a woman, who did not, like Messalina, insult
Rome by loose manners. It was a stringent, and, so to say, masculine
despotism; there was sternness and generally arrogance in public,
no sort of immodesty at home, unless it conduced to power. A boundless
greed of wealth was veiled under the pretext that riches were being
accumulated as a prop to the throne. 

On the day of the marriage Silanus committed suicide, having up to
that time prolonged his hope of life, or else choosing that day to
heighten the popular indignation. His sister, Calvina, was banished
from Italy. Claudius further added that sacrifices after the ordinances
of King Tullius, and atonements were to be offered by the pontiffs
in the grove of Diana, amid general ridicule at the idea devising
penalties and propitiations for incest at such a time. Agrippina,
that she might not be conspicuous only by her evil deeds, procured
for Annaeus Seneca a remission of his exile, and with it the praetorship.
She thought this would be universally welcome, from the celebrity
of his attainments, and it was her wish too for the boyhood of Domitius
to be trained under so excellent an instructor, and for them to have
the benefit of his counsels in their designs on the throne. For Seneca,
it was believed, was devoted to Agrippina from a remembrance of her
kindness, and an enemy to Claudius from a bitter sense of wrong.

It was then resolved to delay no longer. Memmius Pollio, the consul-elect,
was induced by great promises to deliver a speech, praying Claudius
to betroth Octavia to Domitius. The match was not unsuitable to the
age of either, and was likely to develop still more important results.
Pollio introduced the motion in much the same language as Vitellius
had lately used. So Octavia was betrothed, and Domitius, besides his
previous relationship, became now the emperor&apos;s affianced son-in-law,
and an equal of Britannicus, through the exertions of his mother and
the cunning of those who had been the accusers of Messalina, and feared
the vengeance of her son. 

About the same time an embassy from the Parthians, which had been
sent, as I have stated, to solicit the return of Meherdates, was introduced
into the Senate, and delivered a message to the following effect:-
&quot;They were not,&quot; they said, &quot;unaware of the treaty of alliance, nor
did their coming imply any revolt from the family of the Arsacids;
indeed, even the son of Vonones, Phraates&apos;s grandson, was with them
in their resistance to the despotism of Gotarzes, which was alike
intolerable to the nobility and to the people. Already brothers, relatives,
and distant kin had been swept off by murder after murder; wives actually
pregnant, and tender children were added to Gotarzes&apos; victims, while,
slothful at home and unsuccessful in war, he made cruelty a screen
for his feebleness. Between the Parthians and ourselves there was
an ancient friendship, founded on a state alliance, and we ought to
support allies who were our rivals in strength, and yet yielded to
us out of respect. Kings&apos; sons were given as hostages, in order that
when Parthia was tired of home rule, it might fall back on the emperor
and the Senate, and receive from them a better sovereign, familiar
with Roman habits.&quot; 

In answer to these and like arguments Claudius began to speak of the
grandeur of Rome and the submissive attitude of the Parthians. He
compared himself to the Divine Augustus, from whom, he reminded them,
they had sought a king, but omitted to mention Tiberius, though he
too had sent them sovereigns. He added some advice for Meherdates,
who was present, and told him not to be thinking of a despot and his
slaves, but rather of a ruler among fellow citizens, and to practise
clemency and justice which barbarians would like the more for being
unused to them. Then he turned to the envoys and bestowed high praise
on the young foster-son of Rome, as one whose self-control had hitherto
been exemplary. &quot;Still,&quot; he said, &quot;they must bear with the caprices
of kings, and frequent revolutions were bad. Rome, sated with her
glory, had reached such a height that, she wished even foreign nations
to enjoy repose.&quot; Upon this Caius Cassius, governor of Syria, was
commissioned to escort the young prince to the bank of the Euphrates.

Cassius was at that time pre-eminent for legal learning. The profession
of the soldier is forgotten in a quiet period, and peace reduces the
enterprising and indolent to an equality. But Cassius, as far as it
was possible without war, revived ancient discipline, kept exercising
the legions, in short, used as much diligence and precaution as if
an enemy were threatening him. This conduct he counted worthy of his
ancestors and of the Cassian family which had won renown even in those
countries. 

He then summoned those at whose suggestion a king had been sought
from Rome, and having encamped at Zeugma where the river was most
easily fordable and awaited the arrival of the chief men of Parthia
and of Acbarus, king of the Arabs, he reminded Meherdates that the
impulsive enthusiasm of barbarians soon flags from delay or even changes
into treachery, and that therefore he should urge on his enterprise.
The advice was disregarded through the perfidy Acbarus, by whom the
foolish young prince, who thought that the highest position merely
meant self-indulgence, was detained for several days in the town of
Edessa. Although a certain Carenes pressed them to come and promised
easy success if they hastened their arrival, they did not make for
Mesopotamia, which was close to them, but, by a long detour, for Armenia,
then ill-suited to their movements, as winter was beginning.

As they approached the plains, wearied with the snows and mountains,
they were joined by the forces of Carenes, and having crossed the
river Tigris they traversed the country of the Adiabeni, whose king
Izates had avowedly embraced the alliance of Meherdates, though secretly
and in better faith he inclined to Gotarzes. In their march they captured
the city of Ninos, the most ancient capital of Assyria, and a fortress,
historically famous, as the spot where the last battle between Darius
and Alexander the power of Persia fell. Gotarzes meantime was offering
vows to the local divinities on a mountain called Sambulos, with special
worship of Hercules, who at a stated time bids the priests in a dream
equip horses for the chase and place them near his temple. When the
horses have been laden with quivers full of arrows, they scour the
forest and at length return at night with empty quivers, panting violently.
Again the god in a vision of the night reveals to them the track along
which he roamed through the woods, and everywhere slaughtered beasts
are found. 

Gotarzes, his army not being yet in sufficient force, made the river
Corma a line of defence, and though he was challenged to an engagement
by taunting messages, he contrived delays, shifted his positions and
sent emissaries to corrupt the enemy and bribe them to throw off their
allegiance. Izates of the Adiabeni and then Acbarus of the Arabs deserted
with their troops, with their countrymen&apos;s characteristic fickleness,
confirming previous experience, that barbarians prefer to seek a king
from Rome than to keep him. Meherdates, stript of his powerful auxiliaries
and suspecting treachery in the rest, resolved, as his last resource,
to risk everything and try the issue of a battle. Nor did Gotarzes,
who was emboldened by the enemy&apos;s diminished strength, refuse the
challenge. They fought with terrible courage and doubtful result,
till Carenes, who having beaten down all resistance had advanced too
far, was surprised by a fresh detachment in his rear. Then Meherdates
in despair yielded to promises from Parrhaces, one of his father&apos;s
adherents, and was by his treachery delivered in chains to the conqueror.
Gotarzes taunted him with being no kinsman of his or of the Arsacids,
but a foreigner and a Roman, and having cut off his ears, bade him
live, a memorial of his own clemency, and a disgrace to us. After
this Gotarzes fell ill and died, and Vonones, who then ruled the Medes,
was summoned to the throne. He was memorable neither for his good
nor bad fortune; he completed a short and inglorious reign, and then
the empire of Parthia passed to his son Vologeses. 

Mithridates of Bosporus, meanwhile, who had lost his power and was
a mere outcast, on learning that the Roman general, Didius, and the
main strength of his army had retired, and that Cotys, a young prince
without experience, was left in his new kingdom with a few cohorts
under Julius Aquila, a Roman knight, disdaining both, roused the neighbouring
tribes, and drew deserters to his standard. At last he collected an
army, drove out the king of the Dandaridae, and possessed himself
of his dominions. When this was known, and the invasion of Bosporus
was every moment expected, Aquila and Cotys, seeing that hostilities
had been also resumed by Zorsines, king of the Siraci, distrusted
their own strength, and themselves too sought the friendship of the
foreigner by sending envoys to Eunones, who was then chief of the
Adorsi. There was no difficulty about alliance, when they pointed
to the power of Rome in contrast with the rebel Mithridates. It was
accordingly stipulated that Eunones should engage the enemy with his
cavalry, and the Romans undertake the siege of towns. 

Then the army advanced in regular formation, the Adorsi in the van
and the rear, while the centre was strengthened by the cohorts, and
native troops of Bosporus with Roman arms. Thus the enemy was defeated,
and they reached Soza, a town in Dandarica, which Mithridates had
abandoned, where it was thought expedient to leave a garrison, as
the temper of the people was uncertain. Next they marched on the Siraci,
and after crossing the river Panda besieged the city of Uspe, which
stood on high ground, and had the defence of wall and fosses; only
the walls, not being of stone, but of hurdles and wicker-work with
earth between, were too weak to resist an assault. Towers were raised
to a greater height as a means of annoying the besieged with brands
and darts. Had not night stopped the conflict, the siege would have
been begun and finished within one day. 

Next day they sent an embassy asking mercy for the freeborn, and offering
ten thousand slaves. As it would have been inhuman to slay the prisoners,
and very difficult to keep them under guard, the conquerors rejected
the offer, preferring that they should perish by the just doom of
war. The signal for massacre was therefore given to the soldiers,
who had mounted the walls by scaling ladders. The destruction of Uspe
struck terror into the rest of the people, who thought safety impossible
when they saw how armies and ramparts, heights and difficult positions,
rivers and cities, alike yielded to their foe. And so Zorsines, having
long considered whether he should still have regard to the fallen
fortunes of Mithridates or to the kingdom of his fathers, and having
at last preferred his country&apos;s interests, gave hostages and prostrated
himself before the emperor&apos;s image, to the great glory of the Roman
army, which all men knew to have come after a bloodless victory within
three days&apos; march of the river Tanais. In their return however fortune
was not equally favourable; some of their vessels, as they were sailing
back, were driven on the shores of the Tauri and cut off by the barbarians,
who slew the commander of a cohort and several centurions.

Meanwhile Mithridates, finding arms an unavailing resource, considered
on whose mercy he was to throw himself. He feared his brother Cotys,
who had once been a traitor, then become his open enemy. No Roman
was on the spot of authority sufficient to make his promises highly
valued. So he turned to Eunones, who had no personal animosity against
him, and had been lately strengthened by his alliance with us. Adapting
his dress and expression of countenance as much as possible to his
present condition, he entered the palace, and throwing himself at
the feet of Eunones he exclaimed, &quot;Mithridates, whom the Romans have
sought so many years by land and sea, stands before you by his own
choice. Deal as you please with the descendant of the great Achaemenes,
the only glory of which enemies have not robbed me.&quot; 

The great name of Mithridates, his reverse, his prayer, full of dignity,
deeply affected Eunones. He raised the suppliant, and commended him
for having chosen the nation of the Adorsi and his own good faith
in suing for mercy. He sent at the same time envoys to Caesar with
a letter to this effect, that friendship between emperors of Rome
and sovereigns of powerful peoples was primarily based on a similarity
of fortune, and that between himself and Claudius there was the tie
of a common victory. Wars had glorious endings, whenever matters were
settled by an amnesty. The conquered Zorsines had on this principle
been deprived of nothing. For Mithridates, as he deserved heavier
punishment, he asked neither power nor dominions, only that he might
not be led in triumph, and pay the penalty of death. 

Claudius, though merciful to foreign princes, was yet in doubt whether
it were better to receive the captive with a promise of safety or
to claim his surrender by the sword. To this last he was urged by
resentment at his wrongs, and by thirst for vengeance. On the other
hand it was argued that it would be undertaking a war in a country
without roads, on a harbourless sea, against warlike kings and wandering
tribes, on a barren soil; that a weary disgust would come of tardy
movements, and perils of precipitancy; that the glory of victory would
be small, while much disgrace would ensue on defeat. Why should not
the emperor seize the offer and spare the exile, whose punishment
would be the greater, the longer he lived in poverty? 

Moved by these considerations, Claudius wrote to Eunones that Mithridates
had certainly merited an extreme and exemplary penalty, which he was
not wanting in power to inflict, but it had been the principle of
his ancestors to show as much forbearance to a suppliant as they showed
persistence against a foe. As for triumphs, they were won over nations
and kings hitherto unconquered. 

After this, Mithridates was given up and brought to Rome by Junius
Cilo, the procurator of Pontus. There in the emperor&apos;s presence he
was said to have spoken too proudly for his position, and words uttered
by him to the following effect became the popular talk: &quot;I have not
been sent, but have come back to you; if you do not believe me, let
me go and pursue me.&quot; He stood too with fearless countenance when
he was exposed to the people&apos;s gaze near the Rostra, under military
guard. To Cilo and Aquila were voted, respectively, the consular and
praetorian decorations. 

In the same consulship, Agrippina, who was terrible in her hatred
and detested Lollia, for having competed with her for the emperor&apos;s
hand, planned an accusation, through an informer who was to tax her
with having consulted astrologers and magicians and the image of the
Clarian Apollo, about the imperial marriage. Upon this, Claudius,
without hearing the accused, first reminded the Senate of her illustrious
rank, that the sister of Lucius Volusius was her mother, Cotta Messalinus
her granduncle, Memmius Regulus formerly her husband (for of her marriage
to Caius Caesar he purposely said nothing), and then added that she
had mischievous designs on the State, and must have the means of crime
taken from her. Consequently, her property should be confiscated,
and she herself banished from Italy. Thus out of immense wealth only
five million sesterces were left to the exile. Calpurnia too, a lady
of high rank, was ruined, simply because the emperor had praised her
beauty in a casual remark, without any passion for her. And so Agrippina&apos;s
resentment stopped short of extreme vengeance. A tribune was despatched
to Lollia, who was to force her to suicide. Next on the prosecution
of the Bithynians, Cadius Rufus, was condemned under the law against
extortion. 

Narbon Gaul, for its special reverence of the Senate, received a privilege.
Senators belonging to the province, without seeking the emperor&apos;s
approval, were to be allowed to visit their estates, a right enjoyed
by Sicily. Ituraea and Judaea, on the death of their kings, Sohaemus
and Agrippa, were annexed to the province of Syria. 

It was also decided that the augury of the public safety, which for
twenty-five years had been neglected, should be revived and henceforth
observed. The emperor likewise widened the sacred precincts of the
capital, in conformity with the ancient usage, according to which,
those who had enlarged the empire were permitted also to extend the
boundaries of Rome. But Roman generals, even after the conquest of
great nations, had never exercised this right, except Lucius Sulla
and the Divine Augustus. 

There are various popular accounts of the ambitious and vainglorious
efforts of our kings in this matter. Still, I think, it is interesting
to know accurately the original plan of the precinct, as it was fixed
by Romulus. From the ox market, where we see the brazen statue of
a bull, because that animal is yoked to the plough, a furrow was drawn
to mark out the town, so as to embrace the great altar of Hercules;
then, at regular intervals, stones were placed along the foot of the
Palatine hill to the altar of Consus, soon afterwards, to the old
Courts, and then to the chapel of Larunda. The Roman forum and the
Capitol were not, it was supposed, added to the city by Romulus, but
by Titus Tatius. In time, the precinct was enlarged with the growth
of Rome&apos;s fortunes. The boundaries now fixed by Claudius may be easily
recognized, as they are specified in the public records.

In the consulship of Caius Antistius and Marcus Suilius, the adoption
of Domitius was hastened on by the influence of Pallas. Bound to Agrippina,
first as the promoter of her marriage, then as her paramour, he still
urged Claudius to think of the interests of the State, and to provide
some support for the tender years of Britannicus. &quot;So,&quot; he said, &quot;it
had been with the Divine Augustus, whose stepsons, though he had grandsons
to be his stay, had been promoted; Tiberius too, though he had offspring
of his own, had adopted Germanicus. Claudius also would do well to
strengthen himself with a young prince who could share his cares with
him.&quot; 

Overcome by these arguments, the emperor preferred Domitius to his
own son, though he was but two years older, and made a speech in the
senate, the same in substance as the representations of his freedman.
It was noted by learned men, that no previous example of adoption
into the patrician family of the Claudii was to be found; and that
from Attus Clausus there had been one unbroken line. 

However, the emperor received formal thanks, and still more elaborate
flattery was paid to Domitius. A law was passed, adopting him into
the Claudian family with the name of Nero. Agrippina too was honoured
with the title of Augusta. When this had been done, there was not
a person so void of pity as not to feel keen sorrow at the position
of Britannicus. Gradually forsaken by the very slaves who waited on
him, he turned into ridicule the ill-timed attentions of his stepmother,
perceiving their insincerity. For he is said to have had by no means
a dull understanding; and this is either a fact, or perhaps his perils
won him sympathy, and so he possessed the credit of it, without actual
evidence. 

Agrippina, to show her power even to the allied nations, procured
the despatch of a colony of veterans to the chief town of the Ubii,
where she was born. The place was named after her. Agrippa, her grandfather,
had, as it happened, received this tribe, when they crossed the Rhine,
under our protection. 

During the same time, there was a panic in Upper Germany through an
irruption of plundering bands of Chatti. Thereupon Lucius Pomponius,
who was in command, directed the Vangiones and Nemetes, with the allied
cavalry, to anticipate the raid, and suddenly to fall upon them from
every quarter while they were dispersed. The general&apos;s plan was backed
up by the energy of the troops. These were divided into two columns;
and those who marched to the left cut off the plunderers, just on
their return, after a riotous enjoyment of their spoil, when they
were heavy with sleep. It added to the men&apos;s joy that they had rescued
from slavery after forty years some survivors of the defeat of Varus.

The column which took the right-hand and the shorter route, inflicted
greater loss on the enemy who met them, and ventured on a battle.
With much spoil and glory they returned to Mount Taunus, where Pomponius
was waiting with the legions, to see whether the Chatti, in their
eagerness for vengeance, would give him a chance of fighting. They
however fearing to be hemmed in on one side by the Romans, on the
other by the Cherusci, with whom they are perpetually at feud, sent
envoys and hostages to Rome. To Pomponius was decreed the honour of
a triumph; a mere fraction of his renown with the next generation,
with whom his poems constitute his chief glory. 

At this same time, Vannius, whom Drusus Caesar had made king of the
Suevi, was driven from his kingdom. In the commencement of his reign
he was renowned and popular with his countrymen; but subsequently,
with long possession, he became a tyrant, and the enmity of neighbours,
joined to intestine strife, was his ruin. Vibillius, king of the Hermunduri,
and Vangio and Sido, sons of a sister of Vannius, led the movement.
Claudius, though often entreated, declined to interpose by arms in
the conflict of the barbarians, and simply promised Vannius a safe
refuge in the event of his expulsion. He wrote instructions to Publius
Atellius Hister, governor of Pannonia, that he was to have his legions,
with some picked auxiliaries from the province itself, encamped on
the riverbank, as a support to the conquered and a terror to the conqueror,
who might otherwise, in the elation of success, disturb also the peace
of our empire. For an immense host of Ligii, with other tribes, was
advancing, attracted by the fame of the opulent realm which Vannius
had enriched during thirty years of plunder and of tribute. Vannius&apos;s
own native force was infantry, and his cavalry was from the Iazyges
of Sarmatia; an army which was no match for his numerous enemy. Consequently,
he determined to maintain himself in fortified positions, and protract
the war. 

But the Iazyges, who could not endure a siege, dispersed themselves
throughout the surrounding country and rendered an engagement inevitable,
as the Ligii and Hermunduri had there rushed to the attack. So Vannius
came down out of his fortresses, and though he was defeated in battle,
notwithstanding his reverse, he won some credit by having fought with
his own hand, and received wounds on his breast. He then fled to the
fleet which was awaiting him on the Danube, and was soon followed
by his adherents, who received grants of land and were settled in
Pannonia. Vangio and Sido divided his kingdom between them; they were
admirably loyal to us, and among their subjects, whether the cause
was in themselves or in the nature of despotism, much loved, while
seeking to acquire power, and yet more hated when they had acquired
it. 

Meanwhile, in Britain, Publius Ostorius, the propraetor, found himself
confronted by disturbance. The enemy had burst into the territories
of our allies with all the more fury, as they imagined that a new
general would not march against them with winter beginning and with
an army of which he knew nothing. Ostorius, well aware that first
events are those which produce alarm or confidence, by a rapid movement
of his light cohorts, cut down all who opposed him, pursued those
who fled, and lest they should rally, and so an unquiet and treacherous
peace might allow no rest to the general and his troops, he prepared
to disarm all whom he suspected, and to occupy with encampments the
whole country to the Avon and Severn. The Iceni, a powerful tribe,
which war had not weakened, as they had voluntarily joined our alliance,
were the first to resist. At their instigation the surrounding nations
chose as a battlefield a spot walled in by a rude barrier, with a
narrow approach, impenetrable to cavalry. Through these defences the
Roman general, though he had with him only the allied troops, without
the strength of the legions, attempted to break, and having assigned
their positions to his cohorts, he equipped even his cavalry for the
work of infantry. Then at a given signal they forced the barrier,
routing the enemy who were entangled in their own defences. The rebels,
conscious of their guilt, and finding escape barred, performed many
noble feats. In this battle, Marius Ostorius, the general&apos;s son, won
the reward for saving a citizen&apos;s life. 

The defeat of the Iceni quieted those who were hesitating between
war and peace. Then the army was marched against the Cangi; their
territory was ravaged, spoil taken everywhere without the enemy venturing
on an engagement, or if they attempted to harass our march by stealthy
attacks, their cunning was always punished. And now Ostorius had advanced
within a little distance of the sea, facing the island Hibernia, when
feuds broke out among the Brigantes and compelled the general&apos;s return,
for it was his fixed purpose not to undertake any fresh enterprise
till he had consolidated his previous successes. The Brigantes indeed,
when a few who were beginning hostilities had been slain and the rest
pardoned, settled down quietly; but on the Silures neither terror
nor mercy had the least effect; they persisted in war and could be
quelled only by legions encamped in their country. That this might
be the more promptly effected, a colony of a strong body of veterans
was established at Camulodunum on the conquered lands, as a defence
against the rebels, and as a means of imbuing the allies with respect
for our laws. 

The army then marched against the Silures, a naturally fierce people
and now full of confidence in the might of Caractacus, who by many
an indecisive and many a successful battle had raised himself far
above all the other generals of the Britons. Inferior in military
strength, but deriving an advantage from the deceptiveness of the
country, he at once shifted the war by a stratagem into the territory
of the Ordovices, where, joined by all who dreaded peace with us,
he resolved on a final struggle. He selected a position for the engagement
in which advance and retreat alike would be difficult for our men
and comparatively easy for his own, and then on some lofty hills,
wherever their sides could be approached by a gentle slope, he piled
up stones to serve as a rampart. A river too of varying depth was
in his front, and his armed bands were drawn up before his defences.

Then too the chieftains of the several tribes went from rank to rank,
encouraging and confirming the spirit of their men by making light
of their fears, kindling their hopes, and by every other warlike incitement.
As for Caractacus, he flew hither and thither, protesting that that
day and that battle would be the beginning of the recovery of their
freedom, or of everlasting bondage. He appealed, by name, to their
forefathers who had driven back the dictator Caesar, by whose valour
they were free from the Roman axe and tribute, and still preserved
inviolate the persons of their wives and of their children. While
he was thus speaking, the host shouted applause; every warrior bound
himself by his national oath not to shrink from weapons or wounds.

Such enthusiasm confounded the Roman general. The river too in his
face, the rampart they had added to it, the frowning hilltops, the
stern resistance and masses of fighting men everywhere apparent, daunted
him. But his soldiers insisted on battle, exclaiming that valour could
overcome all things; and the prefects and tribunes, with similar language,
stimulated the ardour of the troops. Ostorius having ascertained by
a survey the inaccessible and the assailable points of the position,
led on his furious men, and crossed the river without difficulty.
When he reached the barrier, as long as it was a fight with missiles,
the wounds and the slaughter fell chiefly on our soldiers; but when
he had formed the military testudo, and the rude, ill-compacted fence
of stones was torn down, and it was an equal hand-to-hand engagement,
the barbarians retired to the heights. Yet even there, both light
and heavy-armed soldiers rushed to the attack; the first harassed
the foe with missiles, while the latter closed with them, and the
opposing ranks of the Britons were broken, destitute as they were
of the defence of breast-plates or helmets. When they faced the auxiliaries,
they were felled by the swords and javelins of our legionaries; if
they wheeled round, they were again met by the sabres and spears of
the auxiliaries. It was a glorious victory; the wife and daughter
of Caractacus were captured, and his brothers too were admitted to
surrender. 

There is seldom safety for the unfortunate, and Caractacus, seeking
the protection of Cartismandua, queen of the Brigantes, was put in
chains and delivered up to the conquerors, nine years after the beginning
of the war in Britain. His fame had spread thence, and travelled to
the neighbouring islands and provinces, and was actually celebrated
in Italy. All were eager to see the great man, who for so many years
had defied our power. Even at Rome the name of Caractacus was no obscure
one; and the emperor, while he exalted his own glory, enhanced the
renown of the vanquished. The people were summoned as to a grand spectacle;
the praetorian cohorts were drawn up under arms in the plain in front
of their camp; then came a procession of the royal vassals, and the
ornaments and neck-chains and the spoils which the king had won in
wars with other tribes, were displayed. Next were to be seen his brothers,
his wife and daughter; last of all, Caractacus himself. All the rest
stooped in their fear to abject supplication; not so the king, who
neither by humble look nor speech sought compassion. 

When he was set before the emperor&apos;s tribunal, he spoke as follows:
&quot;Had my moderation in prosperity been equal to my noble birth and
fortune, I should have entered this city as your friend rather than
as your captive; and you would not have disdained to receive, under
a treaty of peace, a king descended from illustrious ancestors and
ruling many nations. My present lot is as glorious to you as it is
degrading to myself. I had men and horses, arms and wealth. What wonder
if I parted with them reluctantly? If you Romans choose to lord it
over the world, does it follow that the world is to accept slavery?
Were I to have been at once delivered up as a prisoner, neither my
fall nor your triumph would have become famous. My punishment would
be followed by oblivion, whereas, if you save my life, I shall be
an everlasting memorial of your clemency.&quot; 

Upon this the emperor granted pardon to Caractacus, to his wife, and
to his brothers. Released from their bonds, they did homage also to
Agrippina who sat near, conspicuous on another throne, in the same
language of praise and gratitude. It was indeed a novelty, quite alien
to ancient manners, for a woman to sit in front of Roman standards.
In fact, Agrippina boasted that she was herself a partner in the empire
which her ancestors had won. 

The Senate was then assembled, and speeches were delivered full of
pompous eulogy on the capture of Caractacus. It was as glorious, they
said, as the display of Syphax by Scipio, or of Perses by Lucius Paulus,
or indeed of any captive prince by any of our generals to the people
of Rome. Triumphal distinctions were voted to Ostorius, who thus far
had been successful, but soon afterwards met with reverses; either
because, when Caractacus was out of the way, our discipline was relaxed
under an impression that the war was ended, or because the enemy,
out of compassion for so great a king, was more ardent in his thirst
for vengeance. Instantly they rushed from all parts on the camp-prefect,
and legionary cohorts left to establish fortified positions among
the Silures, and had not speedy succour arrived from towns and fortresses
in the neighbourhood, our forces would then have been totally destroyed.
Even as it was, the camp-prefect, with eight centurions, and the bravest
of the soldiers, were slain; and shortly afterwards, a foraging party
of our men, with some cavalry squadrons sent to their support, was
utterly routed. 

Ostorius then deployed his light cohorts, but even thus he did not
stop the flight, till our legions sustained the brunt of the battle.
Their strength equalized the conflict, which after a while was in
our favour. The enemy fled with trifling loss, as the day was on the
decline. Now began a series of skirmishes, for the most part like
raids, in woods and morasses, with encounters due to chance or to
courage, to mere heedlessness or to calculation, to fury or to lust
of plunder, under directions from the officers, or sometimes even
without their knowledge. Conspicuous above all in stubborn resistance
were the Silures, whose rage was fired by words rumoured to have been
spoken by the Roman general, to the effect, that as the Sugambri had
been formerly destroyed or transplanted into Gaul, so the name of
the Silures ought to be blotted out. Accordingly they cut off two
of our auxiliary cohorts, the rapacity of whose officers let them
make incautious forays; and by liberal gifts of spoil and prisoners
to the other tribes, they were luring them too into revolt, when Ostorius,
worn out by the burden of his anxieties, died, to the joy of the enemy,
who thought that a campaign at least, though not a single battle,
had proved fatal to general whom none could despise. 

The emperor on hearing of the death of his representative appointed
Aulus Didius in his place, that the province might not be left without
a governor. Didius, though he quickly arrived, found matters far from
prosperous, for the legion under the command of Manlius Valens had
meanwhile been defeated, and the disaster had been exaggerated by
the enemy to alarm the new general, while he again magnified it, that
he might win the more glory by quelling the movement or have a fairer
excuse if it lasted. This loss too had been inflicted on us by the
Silures, and they were scouring the country far and wide, till Didius
hurried up and dispersed them. After the capture of Caractacus, Venutius
of the Brigantes, as I have already mentioned, was pre-eminent in
military skill; he had long been loyal to Rome and had been defended
by our arms while he was united in marriage to the queen Cartismandua.
Subsequently a quarrel broke out between them, followed instantly
by war, and he then assumed a hostile attitude also towards us. At
first, however, they simply fought against each other, and Cartismandua
by cunning stratagems captured the brothers and kinsfolk of Venutius.
This enraged the enemy, who were stung with shame at the prospect
of falling under the dominion of a woman. The flower of their youth,
picked out for war, invaded her kingdom. This we had foreseen; some
cohorts were sent to her aid and a sharp contest followed, which was
at first doubtful but had a satisfactory termination. 

The legion under the command of Caesius Nasica fought with a similar
result. For Didius, burdened with years and covered with honours,
was content with acting through his officers and merely holding back
the enemy. These transactions, though occurring under two propraetors,
and occupying several years, I have closely connected, lest, if related
separately, they might be less easily remembered. I now return to
the chronological order. 

In the fifth consulship of Tiberius Claudius with Sextius Cornelius
Orfitus for his colleague, Nero was prematurely invested with the
dress of manhood, that he might be thought qualified for political
life. The emperor willingly complied with the flatteries of the Senate
who wished Nero to enter on the consulship in his twentieth year,
and meanwhile, as consul-elect, to have pro-consular authority beyond
the limits of the capital with the title of &quot;prince of the youth of
Rome.&quot; A donative was also given to the soldiery in Nero&apos;s name, and
presents to the city populace. At the games too of the circus which
were then being celebrated to win for him popular favour, Britannicus
wore the dress of boyhood, Nero the triumphal robe, as they rode in
the procession. The people would thus behold the one with the decorations
of a general, the other in a boy&apos;s habit, and would accordingly anticipate
their respective destinies. At the same time those of the centurions
and tribunes who pitied the lot of Britannicus were removed, some
on false pretexts, others by way of a seeming compliment. Even of
the freedmen, all who were of incorruptible fidelity were discarded
on the following provocation. Once when they met, Nero greeted Britannicus
by that name and was greeted in return as Domitius. Agrippina reported
this to her husband, with bitter complaint, as the beginning of a
quarrel, as implying, in fact, contempt of Nero&apos;s adoption and a cancelling
at home of the Senate&apos;s decree and the people&apos;s vote. She said, too,
that, if the perversity of such malignant suggestions were not checked,
it would issue in the ruin of the State. Claudius, enraged by what
he took as a grave charge, punished with banishment or death all his
son&apos;s best instructors, and set persons appointed by his stepmother
to have the care of him. 

Still Agrippina did not yet dare to attempt her greatest scheme, unless
Lusius Geta and Rufius Crispinus were removed from the command of
the praetorian cohorts; for she thought that they cherished Messalina&apos;s
memory and were devoted to her children. Accordingly, as the emperor&apos;s
wife persistently affirmed that faction was rife among these cohorts
through the rivalry of the two officers, and that there would be stricter
discipline under one commander, the appointment was transferred to
Burrus Afranius, who had a brilliant reputation as a soldier, but
knew well to whose wish he owed his promotion. Agrippina, too, continued
to exalt her own dignity; she would enter the Capitol in a chariot,
a practice, which being allowed of old only to the priests and sacred
images, increased the popular reverence for a woman who up to this
time was the only recorded instance of one who, an emperor&apos;s daughter,
was sister, wife, and mother of a sovereign. Meanwhile her foremost
champion, Vitellius, in the full tide of his power and in extreme
age (so uncertain are the fortunes of the great) was attacked by an
accusation of which Junius Lupus, a senator, was the author. He was
charged with treason and designs on the throne. The emperor would
have lent a ready ear, had not Agrippina, by threats rather than entreaties,
induced him to sentence the accuser to outlawry. This was all that
Vitellius desired. 

Several prodigies occurred in that year. Birds of evil omen perched
on the Capitol; houses were thrown down by frequent shocks of earthquake,
and as the panic spread, all the weak were trodden down in the hurry
and confusion of the crowd. Scanty crops too, and consequent famine
were regarded as a token of calamity. Nor were there merely whispered
complaints; while Claudius was administering justice, the populace
crowded round him with a boisterous clamour and drove him to a corner
of the forum, where they violently pressed on him till he broke through
the furious mob with a body of soldiers. It was ascertained that Rome
had provisions for no more than fifteen days, and it was through the
signal bounty of heaven and the mildness of the winter that its desperate
plight was relieved. And yet in past days Italy used to send supplies
for the legions into distant provinces, and even now it is not a barren
soil which causes distress. But we prefer to cultivate Africa and
Egypt, and trust the life of the Roman people to ships and all their
risks. 

In the same year war broke out between the Armenians and Iberians,
and was the cause of very serious disturbances between Parthia and
Rome. Vologeses was king of the Parthians; on the mother&apos;s side, he
was the offspring of a Greek concubine, and he obtained the throne
by the retirement of his brothers. Pharasmanes had been long in possession
of Iberia, and his brother, Mithridates, ruled Armenia with our powerful
support. There was a son of Pharasmanes named Rhadamistus, tall and
handsome, of singular bodily strength, trained in all the accomplishments
of his countrymen and highly renowned among his neighbours. He boasted
so arrogantly and persistently that his father&apos;s prolonged old age
kept back from him the little kingdom of Iberia as to make no concealment
of his ambition. Pharasmanes accordingly seeing the young prince had
power in his grasp and was strong in the attachment of his people,
fearing too his own declining years, tempted him with other prospects
and pointed to Armenia, which, as he reminded him, he had given to
Mithridates after driving out the Parthians. But open violence, he
said, must be deferred; artful measures, which might crush him unawares,
were better. So Rhadamistus pretended to be at feud with his father
as though his stepmother&apos;s hatred was too strong for him, and went
to his uncle. While he was treated by him like a son, with excessive
kindness, he lured the nobles of Armenia into revolutionary schemes,
without the knowledge of Mithridates, who was actually loading him
with honours. 

He then assumed a show of reconciliation with his father, to whom
he returned, telling him all that could be accomplished by treachery
was now ready and that he must complete the affair by the sword. Meanwhile
Pharasmanes invented pretexts for war; when he was fighting with the
king of the Albanians and appealing to the Romans for aid, his brother,
he said, had opposed him, and he would now avenge that wrong by his
destruction. At the same time he gave a large army to his son, who
by a sudden invasion drove Mithridates in terror from the open country
and forced him into the fortress of Gorneas, which was strongly situated
and garrisoned by some soldiers under the command of Caelius Pollio,
a camp-prefect, and Casperius, a centurion. 

There is nothing of which barbarians are so ignorant as military engines
and the skilful management of sieges, while that is a branch of military
science which we especially understand. And so Rhadamistus having
attempted the fortified walls in vain or with loss, began a blockade,
and, finding that his assaults were despised, tried to bribe the rapacity
of the camp-prefect. Casperius protested earnestly against the overthrow
of an allied king and of Armenia, the gift of the Roman people, through
iniquity and greed of gain. At last, as Pollio pleaded the overpowering
numbers of the enemy and Rhadamistus the orders of his father, the
centurion stipulated for a truce and retired, intending, if he could
not deter Pharasmanes from further hostilities, to inform Ummidius
Quadratus, the governor of Syria, of the state of Armenia.

By the centurion&apos;s departure the camp prefect was released, so to
say, from surveillance; and he now urged Mithridates to conclude a
treaty. He reminded him of the tie of brotherhood, of the seniority
in age of Pharasmanes, and of their other bonds of kindred, how he
was united by marriage to his brother&apos;s daughter, and was himself
the father-in-law of Rhadamistus. &quot;The Iberians,&quot; he said, &quot;were not
against peace, though for the moment they were the stronger; the perfidy
of the Armenians was notorious, and he had nothing to fall back on
but a fortress without stores; so he must not hesitate to prefer a
bloodless negotiation to arms.&quot; As Mithridates wavered, and suspected
the intentions of the camp-prefect, because he had seduced one of
the king&apos;s concubines and was reputed a man who could be bribed into
any wickedness, Casperius meantime went to Pharasmanes, and required
of him that the Iberians should raise the blockade. Pharasmanes, to
his face, replied vaguely and often in a conciliatory tone, while
by secret messages he recommended Rhadamistus to hurry on the siege
by all possible means. Then the price of infamy was raised, and Pollio
by secret corruption induced the soldiers to demand peace and to threaten
that they would abandon the garrison. Under this compulsion, Mithridates
agreed to a day and a place for negotiation and quitted the fortress.

Rhadamistus at first threw himself into his embraces, feigning respect
and calling him father-in-law and parent. He swore an oath too that
he would do him no violence either by the sword or by poison. At the
same time he drew him into a neighbouring grove, where he assured
him that the appointed sacrifice was prepared for the confirmation
of peace in the presence of the gods. It is a custom of these princes,
whenever they join alliance, to unite their right hands and bind together
the thumbs in a tight knot; then, when the blood has flowed into the
extremities, they let it escape by a slight puncture and suck it in
turn. Such a treaty is thought to have a mysterious sanctity, as being
sealed with the blood of both parties. On this occasion he who was
applying the knot pretended that it had fallen off, and suddenly seizing
the knees of Mithridates flung him to the ground. At the same moment
a rush was made by a number of persons, and chains were thrown round
him. Then he was dragged along by a fetter, an extreme degradation
to a barbarian; and soon the common people, whom he had held under
a harsh sway, heaped insults on him with menacing gestures, though
some, on the contrary, pitied such a reverse of fortune. His wife
followed him with his little children, and filled every place with
her wailings. They were hidden away in different covered carriages
till the orders of Pharasmanes were distinctly ascertained. The lust
of rule was more to him than his brother and his daughter, and his
heart was steeled to any wickedness. Still he spared his eyes the
seeing them slain before his face. Rhadamistus too, seemingly mindful
of his oath, neither unsheathed the sword nor used poison against
his sister and uncle, but had them thrown on the ground and then smothered
them under a mass of heavy clothes. Even the sons of Mithridates were
butchered for having shed tears over their parent&apos;s murder.

Quadratus, learning that Mithridates had been betrayed and that his
kingdom was in the hands of his murderers, summoned a council, and,
having informed them of what had occurred, consulted them whether
he should take vengeance. Few cared for the honour of the State; most
argued in favour of a safe course, saying &quot;that any crime in a foreign
country was to be welcomed with joy, and that the seeds of strife
ought to be actually sown, on the very principle on which Roman emperors
had often under a show of generosity given away this same kingdom
of Armenia to excite the minds of the barbarians. Rhadamistus might
retain his ill-gotten gains, as long as he was hated and infamous;
for this was more to Rome&apos;s interest than for him to have succeeded
with glory.&quot; To this view they assented, but that they might not be
thought to have approved the crime and receive contrary orders from
the emperor, envoys were sent to Pharasmanes, requiring him to withdraw
from Armenian territory and remove his son. 

Julius Pelignus was then procurator of Cappadocia, a man despised
alike for his feebleness of mind and his grotesque personal appearance.
He was however very intimate with Claudius, who, when in private life,
used to beguile the dullness of his leisure with the society of jesters.
This Pelignus collected some provincial auxiliaries, apparently with
the design of recovering Armenia, but, while he plundered allies instead
of enemies, finding himself, through the desertion of his men and
the raids of the barbarians, utterly defenceless, he went to Rhadamistus,
whose gifts so completely overcame him that he positively encouraged
him to assume the ensigns of royalty, and himself assisted at the
ceremony, authorizing and abetting. When the disgraceful news had
spread far and wide, lest the world might judge of other governors
by Pelignus, Helvidius Priscus was sent in command of a legion to
regulate, according to circumstances, the disordered state of affairs.
He quickly crossed Mount Taurus, and had restored order to a great
extent more by moderation than by force, when he was ordered to return
to Syria, that nothing might arise to provoke a war with Parthia.

For Vologeses, thinking that an opportunity presented itself of invading
Armenia, which, though the possession of his ancestors, was now through
a monstrous crime held by a foreign prince, raised an army and prepared
to establish Tiridates on the throne, so that not a member of his
house might be without kingly power. On the advance of the Parthians,
the Iberians dispersed without a battle, and the Armenian cities,
Artaxata and Tigranocerta, submitted to the yoke. Then a frightful
winter or deficient supplies, with pestilence arising from both causes,
forced Vologeses to abandon his present plans. Armenia was thus again
without a king, and was invaded by Rhadamistus, who was now fiercer
than ever, looking on the people as disloyal and sure to rebel on
the first opportunity. They however, though accustomed to be slaves,
suddenly threw off their tameness and gathered round the palace in
arms. 

Rhadamistus had no means of escape but in the swiftness of the horses
which bore him and his wife away. Pregnant as she was, she endured,
somehow or other, out of fear of the enemy and love of her husband,
the first part of the flight, but after a while, when she felt herself
shaken by its continuous speed, she implored to be rescued by an honourable
death from the shame of captivity. He at first embraced, cheered,
and encouraged her, now admiring her heroism, now filled with a sickening
apprehension at the idea of her being left to any man&apos;s mercy. Finally,
urged by the intensity of his love and familiarity with dreadful deeds,
he unsheathed his scymitar, and having stabbed her, dragged her to
the bank of the Araxes and committed her to the stream, so that her
very body might be swept away. Then in headlong flight he hurried
to Iberia, his ancestral kingdom. Zenobia meanwhile (this was her
name), as she yet breathed and showed signs of life on the calm water
at the river&apos;s edge, was perceived by some shepherds, who inferring
from her noble appearance that she was no base-born woman, bound up
her wound and applied to it their rustic remedies. As soon as they
knew her name and her adventure, they conveyed her to the city of
Artaxata, whence she was conducted at the public charge to Tiridates,
who received her kindly and treated her as a royal person.

In the consulship of Faustus Sulla and Salvius Otho, Furius Scribonianus
was banished on the ground that he was consulting the astrologers
about the emperor&apos;s death. His mother, Junia, was included in the
accusation, as one who still resented the misfortune of exile which
she had suffered in the past. His father, Camillus, had raised an
armed insurrection in Dalmatia, and the emperor in again sparing a
hostile family sought the credit of clemency. But the exile did not
live long after this; whether he was cut off by a natural death, or
by poison, was matter of conflicting rumours, according to people&apos;s
belief. 

A decree of the Senate was then passed for the expulsion of the astrologers
from Italy, stringent but ineffectual. Next the emperor, in a speech,
commended all who, from their limited means, voluntarily retired from
the Senatorian order, while those were degraded from it who, by retaining
their seats, added effrontery to poverty. 

During these proceedings he proposed to the Senate a penalty on women
who united themselves in marriage to slaves, and it was decided that
those who had thus demeaned themselves, without the knowledge of the
slave&apos;s master, should be reduced to slavery; if with his consent,
should be ranked as freedwomen. To Pallas, who, as the emperor declared,
was the author of this proposal, were offered on the motion of Barea
Soranus, consul-elect, the decorations of the praetorship and fifteen
million sesterces. Cornelius Scipio added that he deserved public
thanks for thinking less of his ancient nobility as a descendant from
the kings of Arcadia, than of the welfare of the State, and allowing
himself to be numbered among the emperor&apos;s ministers. Claudius assured
them that Pallas was content with the honour, and that he limited
himself to his former poverty. A decree of the Senate was publicly
inscribed on a bronze tablet, heaping the praises of primitive frugality
on a freedman, the possessor of three hundred million sesterces.

Not equally moderate was his brother, surnamed Felix, who had for
some time been governor of Judaea, and thought that he could do any
evil act with impunity, backed up as he was by such power. It is true
that the Jews had shown symptoms of commotion in a seditious outbreak,
and when they had heard of the assassination of Caius, there was no
hearty submission, as a fear still lingered that any of the emperors
might impose the same orders. Felix meanwhile, by ill-timed remedies,
stimulated disloyal acts; while he had, as a rival in the worst wickedness,
Ventidius Cumanus, who held a part of the province, which was so divided
that Galilea was governed by Cumanus, Samaria by Felix. The two peoples
had long been at feud, and now less than ever restrained their enmity,
from contempt of their rulers. And accordingly they plundered each
other, letting loose bands of robbers, forming ambuscades, and occasionally
fighting battles, and carrying the spoil and booty to the two procurators,
who at first rejoiced at all this, but, as the mischief grew, they
interposed with an armed force, which was cut to pieces. The flame
of war would have spread through the province, but it was saved by
Quadratus, governor of Syria. In dealing with the Jews, who had been
daring enough to slay our soldiers, there was little hesitation about
their being capitally punished. Some delay indeed was occasioned by
Cumanus and Felix; for Claudius on hearing the causes of the rebellion
had given authority for deciding also the case of these procurators.
Quadratus, however, exhibited Felix as one of the judges, admitting
him to the bench with the view of cowing the ardour of the prosecutors.
And so Cumanus was condemned for the crimes which the two had committed,
and tranquillity was restored to the province. 

Not long afterwards some tribes of the wild population of Cilicia,
known as the Clitae, which had often been in commotion, established
a camp, under a leader Troxobor, on their rocky mountains, whence
rushing down on the coast, and on the towns, they dared to do violence
to the farmers and townsfolk, frequently even to the merchants and
shipowners. They besieged the city Anemurium, and routed some troopers
sent from Syria to its rescue under the command of Curtius Severus;
for the rough country in the neighbourhood, suited as it is for the
fighting of infantry, did not allow of cavalry operations. After a
time, Antiochus, king of that coast, having broken the unity of the
barbarian forces, by cajolery of the people and treachery to their
leader, slew Troxobor and a few chiefs, and pacified the rest by gentle
measures. 

About the same time, the mountain between Lake Fucinus and the river
Liris was bored through, and that this grand work might be seen by
a multitude of visitors, preparations were made for a naval battle
on the lake, just as formerly Augustus exhibited such a spectacle,
in a basin he had made this side the Tiber, though with light vessels,
and on a smaller scale. Claudius equipped galleys with three and four
banks of oars, and nineteen thousand men; he lined the circumference
of the lake with rafts, that there might be no means of escape at
various points, but he still left full space for the strength of the
crews, the skill of the pilots, the impact of the vessels, and the
usual operations of a seafight. On the raft stood companies of the
praetorian cohorts and cavalry, with a breastwork in front of them,
from which catapults and balistas might be worked. The rest of the
lake was occupied by marines on decked vessels. An immense multitude
from the neighbouring towns, others from Rome itself, eager to see
the sight or to show respect to the emperor, crowded the banks, the
hills, and mountain tops, which thus resembled a theatre. The emperor,
with Agrippina seated near him, presided; he wore a splendid military
cloak, she, a mantle of cloth of gold. A battle was fought with all
the courage of brave men, though it was between condemned criminals.
After much bloodshed they were released from the necessity of mutual
slaughter. 

When the sight was over, the outlet of the water was opened. The careless
execution of the work was apparent, the tunnel not having been bored
down so low as the bottom, or middle of the lake. Consequently after
an interval the excavations were deepened, and to attract a crowd
once more, a show of gladiators was exhibited, with floating pontoons
for an infantry engagement. A banquet too was prepared close to the
outflow of the lake, and it was the means of greatly alarming the
whole company, for the water, in the violence of its outburst, swept
away the adjoining parts, shook the more remote, and spread terror
with the tremendous crash. At the same time, Agrippina availed herself
of the emperor&apos;s fright to charge Narcissus, who had been the agent
of the work, with avarice and peculation. He too was not silent, but
inveighed against the domineering temper of her sex, and her extravagant
ambition. 

In the consulship of Didius Junius and Quintus Haterius, Nero, now
sixteen years of age, married Octavia, the emperor&apos;s daughter. Anxious
to distinguish himself by noble pursuits, and the reputation of an
orator, he advocated the cause of the people of Ilium, and having
eloquently recounted how Rome was the offspring of Troy, and Aeneas
the founder of the Julian line, with other old traditions akin to
myths, he gained for his clients exemption from all public burdens.
His pleading too procured for the colony of Bononia, which had been
ruined by a fire, a subvention of ten million sesterces. The Rhodians
also had their freedom restored to them, which had often been taken
away, or confirmed, according to their services to us in our foreign
wars, or their seditious misdeeds at home. Apamea, too, which had
been shaken by an earthquake, had its tribute remitted for five years.

Claudius, on the other hand, was being prompted to exhibit the worst
cruelty by the artifices of the same Agrippina. On the accusation
of Tarquitius Priscus, she ruined Statilius Taurus, who was famous
for his wealth, and at whose gardens she cast a greedy eye. Priscus
had served under Taurus in his proconsular government of Africa, and
after their return charged him with a few acts of extortion, but particularly
with magical and superstitious practices. Taurus, no longer able to
endure a false accusation and an undeserved humiliation, put a violent
end to his life before the Senate&apos;s decision was pronounced. Tarquitius
was however expelled from the Senate, a point which the senators carried,
out of hatred for the accuser, notwithstanding the intrigues of Agrippina.

That same year the emperor was often heard to say that the legal decisions
of the commissioners of the imperial treasury ought to have the same
force as if pronounced by himself. Lest it might be supposed that
he had stumbled inadvertently into this opinion, its principle was
also secured by a decree of the Senate on a more complete and ample
scale than before. It had indeed already been arranged by the Divine
Augustus that the Roman knights who governed Egypt should hear causes,
and that their decisions were to be as binding as those of Roman magistrates,
and after a time most of the cases formerly tried by the praetors
were submitted to the knights. Claudius handed over to them the whole
administration of justice for which there had been by sedition or
war so many struggles; the Sempronian laws vesting judicial power
in the equestrian order, and those of Servilius restoring it to the
Senate, while it was for this above everything else that Marius and
Sulla fought of old. But those were days of political conflict between
classes, and the results of victory were binding on the State. Caius
Oppius and Cornelius Balbus were the first who were able, with Caesar&apos;s
support, to settle conditions of peace and terms of war. To mention
after them the Matii, Vedii, and other too influential names of Roman
knights would be superfluous, when Claudius, we know, raised freedmen
whom he had set over his household to equality with himself and with
the laws. 

Next the emperor proposed to grant immunity from taxation to the people
of Cos, and he dwelt much on their antiquity. &quot;The Argives or Coeus,
the father of Latona, were the earliest inhabitants of the island;
soon afterwards, by the arrival of Aesculapius, the art of the physician
was introduced and was practised with much fame by his descendants.&quot;
Claudius named them one by one, with the periods in which they had
respectively flourished. He said too that Xenophon, of whose medical
skill he availed himself, was one of the same family, and that they
ought to grant his request and let the people of Cos dwell free from
all tribute in their sacred island, as a place devoted to the sole
service of their god. It was also certain that many obligations under
which they had laid Rome and joint victories with her might have been
recounted. Claudius however did not seek to veil under any external
considerations a concession he had made, with his usual good nature,
to an individual. 

Envoys from Byzantium having received audience, in complaining to
the Senate of their heavy burdens, recapitulated their whole history.
Beginning with the treaty which they concluded with us when we fought
against that king of Macedonia whose supposed spurious birth acquired
for him the name of the Pseudo Philip, they reminded us of the forces
which they had afterwards sent against Antiochus, Perses and Aristonicus,
of the aid they had given Antonius in the pirate-war, of their offers
to Sulla, Lucullus, and Pompeius, and then of their late services
to the Caesars, when they were in occupation of a district peculiarly
convenient for the land or sea passage of generals and armies, as
well as for the conveyance of supplies. 

It was indeed on that very narrow strait which parts Europe from Asia,
at Europe&apos;s furthest extremity, that the Greeks built Byzantium. When
they consulted the Pythian Apollo as to where they should found a
city, the oracle replied that they were to seek a home opposite to
the blind men&apos;s country. This obscure hint pointed to the people of
Chalcedon, who, though they arrived there first and saw before others
the advantageous position, chose the worse. For Byzantium has a fruitful
soil and productive seas, as immense shoals of fish pour out of the
Pontus and are driven by the sloping surface of the rocks under water
to quit the windings of the Asiatic shore and take refuge in these
harbours. Consequently the inhabitants were at first money-making
and wealthy traders, but afterwards, under the pressure of excessive
burdens, they petitioned for immunity or at least relief, and were
supported by the emperor, who argued to the Senate that, exhausted
as they were by the late wars in Thrace and Bosporus, they deserved
help. So their tribute was remitted for five years. 

In the year of the consulship of Marcus Asinius and Manius Acilius
it was seen to be portended by a succession of prodigies that there
were to be political changes for the worse. The soldiers&apos; standards
and tents were set in a blaze by lightning. A swarm of bees settled
on the summit of the Capitol; births of monsters, half man, half beast,
and of a pig with a hawk&apos;s talons, were reported. It was accounted
a portent that every order of magistrates had had its number reduced,
a quaestor, an aedile, a tribune, a praetor and consul having died
within a few months. But Agrippina&apos;s terror was the most conspicuous.
Alarmed by some words dropped by Claudius when half intoxicated, that
it was his destiny to have to endure his wives&apos; infamy and at last
punish it, she determined to act without a moment&apos;s delay. First she
destroyed Lepida from motives of feminine jealousy. Lepida indeed
as the daughter of the younger Antonia, as the grandniece of Augustus,
the cousin of Agrippina, and sister of her husband Cneius, thought
herself of equally high rank. In beauty, youth, and wealth they differed
but slightly. Both were shameless, infamous, and intractable, and
were rivals in vice as much as in the advantages they had derived
from fortune. It was indeed a desperate contest whether the aunt or
the mother should have most power over Nero. Lepida tried to win the
young prince&apos;s heart by flattery and lavish liberality, while Agrippina
on the other hand, who could give her son empire but could not endure
that he should be emperor, was fierce and full of menace.

It was charged on Lepida that she had made attempts on the Emperor&apos;s
consort by magical incantations, and was disturbing the peace of Italy
by an imperfect control of her troops of slaves in Calabria. She was
for this sentenced to death, notwithstanding the vehement opposition
of Narcissus, who, as he more and more suspected Agrippina, was said
to have plainly told his intimate friends that &quot;his destruction was
certain, whether Britannicus or Nero were to be emperor, but that
he was under such obligations to Claudius that he would sacrifice
life to his welfare. Messalina and Silius had been convicted, and
now again there were similar grounds for accusation. If Nero were
to rule, or Britannicus succeed to the throne, he would himself have
no claim on the then reigning sovereign. Meanwhile, a stepmother&apos;s
treacherous schemes were convulsing the whole imperial house, with
far greater disgrace than would have resulted from his concealment
of the profligacy of the emperor&apos;s former wife. Even as it was, there
was shamelessness enough, seeing that Pallas was her paramour, so
that no one could doubt that she held honour, modesty and her very
person, everything, in short, cheaper than sovereignty.&quot;

This, and the like, he was always saying, and he would embrace Britannicus,
expressing earnest wishes for his speedy arrival at a mature age,
and would raise his hand, now to heaven, now to the young prince,
with entreaty that as he grew up, he would drive out his father&apos;s
enemies and also take vengeance on the murderers of his mother.

Under this great burden of anxiety, he had an attack of illness, and
went to Sinuessa to recruit his strength with its balmy climate and
salubrious waters. Thereupon, Agrippina, who had long decided on the
crime and eagerly grasped at the opportunity thus offered, and did
not lack instruments, deliberated on the nature of the poison to be
used. The deed would be betrayed by one that was sudden and instantaneous,
while if she chose a slow and lingering poison, there was a fear that
Claudius, when near his end, might, on detecting the treachery, return
to his love for his son. She decided on some rare compound which might
derange his mind and delay death. A person skilled in such matters
was selected, Locusta by name, who had lately been condemned for poisoning,
and had long been retained as one of the tools of despotism. By this
woman&apos;s art the poison was prepared, and it was to be administered
by an eunuch, Halotus, who was accustomed to bring in and taste the
dishes. 

All the circumstances were subsequently so well known, that writers
of the time have declared that the poison was infused into some mushrooms,
a favourite delicacy, and its effect not at the instant perceived,
from the emperor&apos;s lethargic, or intoxicated condition. His bowels
too were relieved, and this seemed to have saved him. Agrippina was
thoroughly dismayed. Fearing the worst, and defying the immediate
obloquy of the deed, she availed herself of the complicity of Xenophon,
the physician, which she had already secured. Under pretence of helping
the emperor&apos;s efforts to vomit, this man, it is supposed, introduced
into his throat a feather smeared with some rapid poison; for he knew
that the greatest crimes are perilous in their inception, but well
rewarded after their consummation. 

Meanwhile the Senate was summoned, and prayers rehearsed by the consuls
and priests for the emperor&apos;s recovery, though the lifeless body was
being wrapped in blankets with warm applications, while all was being
arranged to establish Nero on the throne. At first Agrippina, seemingly
overwhelmed by grief and seeking comfort, clasped Britannicus in her
embraces, called him the very image of his father, and hindered him
by every possible device from leaving the chamber. She also detained
his sisters, Antonia and Octavia, closed every approach to the palace
with a military guard, and repeatedly gave out that the emperor&apos;s
health was better, so that the soldiers might be encouraged to hope,
and that the fortunate moment foretold by the astrologers might arrive.

At last, at noon on the 13th of October, the gates of the palace were
suddenly thrown open, and Nero, accompanied by Burrus, went forth
to the cohort which was on guard after military custom. There, at
the suggestion of the commanding officer, he was hailed with joyful
shouts, and set on a litter. Some, it is said, hesitated, and looked
round and asked where Britannicus was; then, when there was no one
to lead a resistance, they yielded to what was offered them. Nero
was conveyed into the camp, and having first spoken suitably to the
occasion and promised a donative after the example of his father&apos;s
bounty, he was unanimously greeted as emperor. The decrees of the
Senate followed the voice of the soldiers, and there was no hesitation
in the provinces. Divine honours were decreed to Claudius, and his
funeral rites were solemnized on the same scale as those of Augustus;
for Agrippina strove to emulate the magnificence of her great-grandmother,
Livia. But his will was not publicly read, as the preference of the
stepson to the son might provoke a sense of wrong and angry feeling
in the popular mind. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

BOOK XIII

A.D. 54-58 

The first death under the new emperor, that of Junius Silanus, proconsul
of Asia, was, without Nero&apos;s knowledge, planned by the treachery of
Agrippina. Not that Silanus had provoked destruction by any violence
of temper, apathetic as he was, and so utterly despised under former
despotisms, that Caius Caesar used to call him the golden sheep. The
truth was that Agrippina, having contrived the murder of his brother
Lucius Silanus, dreaded his vengeance; for it was the incessant popular
talk that preference ought to be given over Nero, who was scarcely
out of his boyhood and had gained the empire by crime, to a man of
mature age, of blameless life, of noble birth, and, as a point then
much regarded, of the line of the Caesars. Silanus in fact was the
son of a great-grandson of Augustus. This was the cause of his destruction.
The agents of the deed were Publius Celer, a Roman knight, and Helius,
a freedman, men who had the charge of the emperor&apos;s domains in Asia.
They gave the proconsul poison at a banquet, too openly to escape
discovery. 

With no less precipitation, Narcissus, Claudius&apos;s freedman, whose
quarrels with Agrippina I have mentioned, was driven to suicide by
his cruel imprisonment and hopeless plight, even against the wishes
of Nero, with whose yet concealed vices he was wonderfully in sympathy
from his rapacity and extravagance. 

And now they had proceeded to further murders but for the opposition
of Afranius Burrus and Annaeus Seneca. These two men guided the emperor&apos;s
youth with an unity of purpose seldom found where authority is shared,
and though their accomplishments were wholly different, they had equal
influence. Burrus, with his soldier&apos;s discipline and severe manners,
Seneca, with lessons of eloquence and a dignified courtesy, strove
alike to confine the frailty of the prince&apos;s youth, should he loathe
virtue, within allowable indulgences. They had both alike to struggle
against the domineering spirit of Agrippina, who inflamed with all
the passions of an evil ascendency had Pallas on her side, at whose
suggestion Claudius had ruined himself by an incestuous marriage and
a fatal adoption of a son. Nero&apos;s temper however was not one to submit
to slaves, and Pallas, by a surly arrogance quite beyond a freedman,
had provoked disgust. Still every honour was openly heaped on Agrippina,
and to a tribune who according to military custom asked the watchword,
Nero gave &quot;the best of mothers.&quot; The Senate also decreed her two lictors,
with the office of priestess to Claudius, and voted to the late emperor
a censor&apos;s funeral, which was soon followed by deification.

On the day of the funeral the prince pronounced Claudius&apos;s panegyric,
and while he dwelt on the antiquity of his family and on the consulships
and triumphs of his ancestors, there was enthusiasm both in himself
and his audience. The praise of his graceful accomplishments, and
the remark that during his reign no disaster had befallen Rome from
the foreigner, were heard with favour. When the speaker passed on
to his foresight and wisdom, no one could refrain from laughter, though
the speech, which was composed by Seneca, exhibited much elegance,
as indeed that famous man had an attractive genius which suited the
popular ear of the time. Elderly men who amuse their leisure with
comparing the past and the present, observed that Nero was the first
emperor who needed another man&apos;s eloquence. The dictator Caesar rivalled
the greatest orators, and Augustus had an easy and fluent way of speaking,
such as became a sovereign. Tiberius too thoroughly understood the
art of balancing words, and was sometimes forcible in the expression
of his thoughts, or else intentionally obscure. Even Caius Caesar&apos;s
disordered intellect did not wholly mar his faculty of speech. Nor
did Claudius, when he spoke with preparation, lack elegance. Nero
from early boyhood turned his lively genius in other directions; he
carved, painted, sang, or practised the management of horses, occasionally
composing verses which showed that he had the rudiments of learning.

When he had done with his mimicries of sorrow he entered the Senate,
and having first referred to the authority of the senators and the
concurrence of the soldiery, he then dwelt on the counsels and examples
which he had to guide him in the right administration of empire. &quot;His
boyhood,&quot; he said, &quot;had not had the taint of civil wars or domestic
feuds, and he brought with him no hatreds, no sense of wrong, no desire
of vengeance.&quot; He then sketched the plan of his future government,
carefully avoiding anything which had kindled recent odium. &quot;He would
not,&quot; he said, &quot;be judge in all cases, or, by confining the accuser
and the accused within the same walls, let the power of a few favourites
grow dangerously formidable. In his house there should be nothing
venal, nothing open to intrigue; his private establishment and the
State should be kept entirely distinct. The Senate should retain its
ancient powers; Italy and the State-provinces should plead their causes
before the tribunals of the consuls, who would give them a hearing
from the senators. Of the armies he would himself take charge, as
specially entrusted to him.&quot; 

He was true to his word and several arrangements were made on the
Senate&apos;s authority. No one was to receive a fee or a present for pleading
a cause; the quaestors-elect were not to be under the necessity of
exhibiting gladiatorial shows. This was opposed by Agrippina, as a
reversal of the legislation of Claudius, but it was carried by the
senators who used to be summoned to the palace, in order that she
might stand close to a hidden door behind them, screened by a curtain
which was enough to shut her out of sight, but not out of hearing.
When envoys from Armenia were pleading their nation&apos;s cause before
Nero, she actually was on the point of mounting the emperor&apos;s tribunal
and of presiding with him; but Seneca, when every one else was paralysed
with alarm, motioned to the prince to go and meet his mother. Thus,
by an apparently dutiful act, a scandalous scene was prevented.

With the close of the year came disquieting rumours that the Parthians
had again broken their bounds and were ravaging Armenia, from which
they had driven Rhadamistus, who, having often possessed himself of
the kingdom and as often been thrust out of it, had now relinquished
hostilities. Rome with its love of talking began to ask how a prince
of scarce seventeen was to encounter and avert this tremendous peril,
how they could fall back on one who was ruled by a woman; or whether
battles and sieges and the other operations of war could be directed
by tutors. &quot;Some, on the contrary, argued that this was better than
it would have been, had Claudius in his feeble and spiritless old
age, when he would certainly have yielded to the bidding of slaves,
been summoned to the hardships of a campaign. Burrus, at least, and
Seneca were known to be men of very varied experience, and, as for
the emperor himself, how far was he really short of mature age, when
Cneius Pompeius and Caesar Octavianus, in their eighteenth and nineteenth
years respectively, bore the brunt of civil wars? The highest rank
chiefly worked through its prestige and its counsels more than by
the sword and hand. The emperor would give a plain proof whether he
was advised by good or bad friends by putting aside all jealousy and
selecting some eminent general, rather than by promoting out of favouritism,
a rich man backed up by interest.&quot; 

Amidst this and like popular talk, Nero ordered the young recruits
levied in the adjacent provinces to be brought up for the supply of
the legions of the East, and the legions themselves to take up a position
on the Armenian frontier while two princes of old standing, Agrippa
and Antiochus, were to prepare a force for the invasion of the Parthian
territories. The Euphrates too was to be spanned by bridges; Lesser
Armenia was intrusted to Aristobulus, Sophene to Sohaemus, each with
the ensigns of royalty. There rose up at this crisis a rival to Vologeses
in his son Vardanes, and the Parthians quitted Armenia, apparently
intending to defer hostilities. 

All this however was described with exaggeration to the Senate, in
the speeches of those members who proposed a public thanksgiving,
and that on the days of the thanksgiving the prince should wear the
triumphal robe and enter Rome in ovation, lastly, that he should have
statues on the same scale as those of Mars the Avenger, and in the
same temple. To their habitual flattery was added a real joy at his
having appointed Domitius Corbulo to secure Armenia, thus opening,
as it seemed, a field to merit. The armies of the East were so divided
that half the auxiliaries and two legions were to remain in the province
of Syria under its governor, Quadratus Ummidius; while Corbulo was
to have an equal number of citizen and allied troops, together with
the auxiliary infantry and cavalry which were in winter quarters in
Cappadocia. The confederate kings were instructed to obey orders,
just as the war might require. But they had a specially strong liking
for Corbulo. That general, with a view to the prestige which in a
new enterprise is supremely powerful, speedily accomplished his march,
and at Aegeae, a city of Cilicia, met Quadratus who had advanced to
the place under an apprehension that, should Corbulo once enter Armenia
to take command of the army, he would draw all eyes on himself, by
his noble stature, his imposing eloquence, and the impression he would
make, not only by his wisdom and experience, but also by the mere
display of showy attributes. 

Meantime both sent messages to king Vologeses, advising him to choose
peace rather than war, and to give hostages and so continue the habitual
reverence of his ancestors towards the people of Rome. Vologeses,
wishing to prepare for war at an advantage, or to rid himself of suspected
rivals under the name of hostages, delivered up some of the noblest
of the Arsacids. A centurion, Insteius, sent perhaps by Ummidius on
some previous occasion, received them after an interview with the
king. Corbulo, on knowing this, ordered Arrius Varus, commander of
a cohort, to go and take the hostages. Hence arose a quarrel between
the commander and the centurion, and to stop such a scene before foreigners,
the decision of the matter was left to the hostages and to the envoys
who conducted them. They preferred Corbulo, for his recent renown,
and from a liking which even enemies felt for him. Then there was
a feud between the two generals; Ummidius complained that he was robbed
of what his prudence had achieved, while Corbulo on the other hand
appealed to the fact that Vologeses had not brought himself to offer
hostages till his own appointment to the conduct of the war turned
the king&apos;s hopes into fears. Nero, to compose their differences, directed
the issue of a proclamation that for the successes of Quadratus and
Corbulo the laurel was to be added to the imperial &quot;fasces.&quot; I have
closely connected these events, though they extend into another consulship.

The emperor in the same year asked the Senate for a statue to his
father Domitius, and also that the consular decorations might be conferred
on Asconius Labeo, who had been his guardian. Statues to himself of
solid gold and silver he forbade, in opposition to offers made, and
although the Senate passed a vote that the year should begin with
the month of December, in which he was born, he retained for its commencement,
the old sacred associations of the first of January. Nor would he
allow the prosecution of Carinas Celer, a senator, whom a slave accused,
or of Julius Densus, a knight, whose partiality for Britannicus was
construed into a crime. 

In the year of his consulship with Lucius Antistius, when the magistrates
were swearing obedience to imperial legislation, he forbade his colleague
to extend the oath to his own enactments, for which he was warmly
praised by the senators, in the hope that his youthful spirit, elated
with the glory won by trifles, would follow on to nobler aspirations.
Then came an act of mercy to Plautius Lateranus, who had been degraded
from his rank for adultery with Messalina, and whom he now restored,
assuring them of his clemency in a number of speeches which Seneca,
to show the purity of his teaching or to display his genius, published
to the world by the emperor&apos;s mouth. 

Meanwhile the mother&apos;s influence was gradually weakened, as Nero fell
in love with a freedwoman, Acte by name, and took into his confidence
Otho and Claudius Senecio, two young men of fashion, the first of
whom was descended from a family of consular rank, while Senecio&apos;s
father was one of the emperor&apos;s freedmen. Without the mother&apos;s knowledge,
then in spite of her opposition, they had crept into his favour by
debaucheries and equivocal secrets, and even the prince&apos;s older friends
did not thwart him, for here was a girl who without harm to any one
gratified his desires, when he loathed his wife Octavia, high born
as she was, and of approved virtue, either from some fatality, or
because vice is overpoweringly attractive. It was feared too that
he might rush into outrages on noble ladies, were he debarred from
this indulgence. 

Agrippina, however, raved with a woman&apos;s fury about having a freedwoman
for a rival, a slave girl for a daughter-in-law, with like expressions.
Nor would she wait till her son repented or wearied of his passion.
The fouler her reproaches, the more powerfully did they inflame him,
till completely mastered by the strength of his desire, he threw off
all respect for his mother, and put himself under the guidance of
Seneca, one of whose friends, Annaeus Serenus, had veiled the young
prince&apos;s intrigue in its beginning by pretending to be in love with
the same woman, and had lent his name as the ostensible giver of the
presents secretly sent by the emperor to the girl. Then Agrippina,
changing her tactics, plied the lad with various blandishments, and
even offered the seclusion of her chamber for the concealment of indulgences
which youth and the highest rank might claim. She went further; she
pleaded guilty to an ill-timed strictness, and handed over to him
the abundance of her wealth, which nearly approached the imperial
treasures, and from having been of late extreme in her restraint of
her son, became now, on the other hand, lax to excess. The change
did not escape Nero; his most intimate friends dreaded it, and begged
him to beware of the arts of a woman, was always daring and was now
false. 

It happened at this time that the emperor after inspecting the apparel
in which wives and mothers of the imperial house had been seen to
glitter, selected a jewelled robe and sent it as a gift to his mother,
with the unsparing liberality of one who was bestowing by preference
on her a choice and much coveted present. Agrippina, however, publicly
declared that so far from her wardrobe being furnished by these gifts,
she was really kept out of the remainder, and that her son was merely
dividing with her what he derived wholly from herself. 

Some there were who put even a worse meaning on her words. And so
Nero, furious with those who abetted such arrogance in a woman, removed
Pallas from the charge of the business with which he had been entrusted
by Claudius, and in which he acted, so to say, as the controller of
the throne. The story went that as he was departing with a great retinue
of attendants, the emperor rather wittily remarked that Pallas was
going to swear himself out of office. Pallas had in truth stipulated
that he should not be questioned for anything he had done in the past,
and that his accounts with the State were to be considered as balanced.
Thereupon, with instant fury, Agrippina rushed into frightful menaces,
sparing not the prince&apos;s ears her solemn protest &quot;that Britannicus
was now of full age, he who was the true and worthy heir of his father&apos;s
sovereignty, which a son, by mere admission and adoption, was abusing
in outrages on his mother. She shrank not from an utter exposure of
the wickedness of that ill-starred house, of her own marriage, to
begin with, and of her poisoner&apos;s craft. All that the gods and she
herself had taken care of was that her stepson was yet alive; with
him she would go to the camp, where on one side should be heard the
daughter of Germanicus; on the other, the crippled Burrus and the
exile Seneca, claiming, forsooth, with disfigured hand, and a pedant&apos;s
tongue, the government of the world.&quot; As she spoke, she raised her
hand in menace and heaped insults on him, as she appealed to the deified
Claudius, to the infernal shades of the Silani, and to those many
fruitless crimes. 

Nero was confounded at this, and as the day was near on which Britannicus
would complete his fourteenth year, he reflected, now on the domineering
temper of his mother, and now again on the character of the young
prince, which a trifling circumstance had lately tested, sufficient
however to gain for him wide popularity. During the feast of Saturn,
amid other pastimes of his playmates, at a game of lot drawing for
king, the lot fell to Nero, upon which he gave all his other companions
different orders, and such as would not put them to the blush; but
when he told Britannicus to step forward and begin a song, hoping
for a laugh at the expense of a boy who knew nothing of sober, much
less of riotous society, the lad with perfect coolness commenced some
verses which hinted at his expulsion from his father&apos;s house and from
supreme power. This procured him pity, which was the more conspicuous,
as night with its merriment had stript off all disguise. Nero saw
the reproach and redoubled his hate. Pressed by Agrippina&apos;s menaces,
having no charge against his brother and not daring openly to order
his murder, he meditated a secret device and directed poison to be
prepared through the agency of Julius Pollio, tribune of one of the
praetorian cohorts, who had in his custody a woman under sentence
for poisoning, Locusta by name, with a vast reputation for crime.
That every one about the person of Britannicus should care nothing
for right or honour, had long ago been provided for. He actually received
his first dose of poison from his tutors and passed it off his bowels,
as it was rather weak or so qualified as not at once to prove deadly.
But Nero, impatient at such slow progress in crime, threatened the
tribune and ordered the poisoner to execution for prolonging his anxiety
while they were thinking of the popular talk and planning their own
defence. Then they promised that death should be as sudden as if it
were the hurried work of the dagger, and a rapid poison of previously
tested ingredients was prepared close to the emperor&apos;s chamber.

It was customary for the imperial princes to sit during their meals
with other nobles of the same age, in the sight of their kinsfolk,
at a table of their own, furnished somewhat frugally. There Britannicus
was dining, and as what he ate and drank was always tested by the
taste of a select attendant, the following device was contrived, that
the usage might not be dropped or the crime betrayed by the death
of both prince and attendant. A cup as yet harmless, but extremely
hot and already tasted, was handed to Britannicus; then, on his refusing
it because of its warmth, poison was poured in with some cold water,
and this so penetrated his entire frame that he lost alike voice and
breath. There was a stir among the company; some, taken by surprise,
ran hither and thither, while those whose discernment was keener,
remained motionless, with their eyes fixed on Nero, who, as he still
reclined in seeming unconsciousness, said that this was a common occurrence,
from a periodical epilepsy, with which Britannicus had been afflicted
from his earliest infancy, and that his sight and senses would gradually
return. As for Agrippina, her terror and confusion, though her countenance
struggled to hide it, so visibly appeared, that she was clearly just
as ignorant as was Octavia, Britannicus&apos;s own sister. She saw, in
fact, that she was robbed of her only remaining refuge, and that here
was a precedent for parricide. Even Octavia, notwithstanding her youthful
inexperience, had learnt to hide her grief, her affection, and indeed
every emotion. 

And so after a brief pause the company resumed its mirth. One and
the same night witnessed Britannicus&apos;s death and funeral, preparations
having been already made for his obsequies, which were on a humble
scale. He was however buried in the Campus Martius, amid storms so
violent, that in the popular belief they portended the wrath of heaven
against a crime which many were even inclined to forgive when they
remembered the immemorial feuds of brothers and the impossibility
of a divided throne. It is related by several writers of the period
that many days before the murder, Nero had offered the worst insult
to the boyhood of Britannicus; so that his death could no longer seem
a premature or dreadful event, though it happened at the sacred board,
without even a moment for the embraces of his sisters, hurried on
too, as it was, under the eyes of an enemy, on the sole surviving
offspring of the Claudii, the victim first of dishonour, then of poison.
The emperor apologised for the hasty funeral by reminding people that
it was the practice of our ancestors to withdraw from view any grievously
untimely death, and not to dwell on it with panegyrics or display.
For himself, he said, that as he had now lost a brother&apos;s help, his
remaining hopes centred in the State, and all the more tenderness
ought to be shown by the Senate and people towards a prince who was
the only survivor of a family born to the highest greatness.

He then enriched his most powerful friends with liberal presents.
Some there were who reproached men of austere professions with having
on such an occasion divided houses and estates among themselves, like
so much spoil. It was the belief of others that a pressure had been
put on them by the emperor, who, conscious as he was of guilt, hoped
for merciful consideration if he could secure the most important men
by wholesale bribery. But his mother&apos;s rage no lavish bounty could
allay. She would clasp Octavia to her arms, and have many a secret
interview with her friends; with more than her natural rapacity, she
clutched at money everywhere, seemingly for a reserve, and courteously
received tribunes and centurions. She honoured the names and virtues
of the nobles who still were left, seeking apparently a party and
a leader. Of this Nero became aware, and he ordered the departure
of the military guard now kept for the emperor&apos;s mother, as it had
formerly been for the imperial consort, along with some German troops,
added as a further honour. He also gave her a separate establishment,
that throngs of visitors might no longer wait on her, and removed
her to what had been Antonia&apos;s house; and whenever he went there himself,
he was surrounded by a crowd of centurions, and used to leave her
after a hurried kiss. 

Of all things human the most precarious and transitory is a reputation
for power which has no strong support of its own. In a moment Agrippina&apos;s
doors were deserted; there was no one to comfort or to go near her,
except a few ladies, whether out of love or malice was doubtful. One
of these was Junia Silana, whom Messalina had driven from her husband,
Caius Silius, as I have already related. Conspicuous for her birth,
her beauty, and her wantonness, she had long been a special favourite
of Agrippina, till after a while there were secret mutual dislikes,
because Sextius Africanus, a noble youth, had been deterred from marrying
Silana by Agrippina, who repeatedly spoke of her as an immodest woman
in the decline of life, not to secure Africanus for herself, but to
keep the childless and wealthy widow out of a husband&apos;s control. Silana
having now a prospect of vengeance, suborned as accusers two of her
creatures, Iturius and Calvisius, not with the old and often-repeated
charges about Agrippina&apos;s mourning the death of Britannicus or publishing
the wrongs of Octavia, but with a hint that it was her purpose to
encourage in revolutionary designs Rubellius Plautus, who his mother&apos;s
side was as nearly connected as Nero with the Divine Augustus; and
then, by marrying him and making him emperor, again seize the control
of the State. All this Iturius and Calvisius divulged to Atimetus,
a freedman of Domitia, Nero&apos;s aunt. Exulting in the opportunity, for
Agrippina and Domitia were in bitter rivalry, Atimetus urged Paris,
who was himself also a freedman of Domitia, to go at once and put
the charge in the most dreadful form. 

Night was far advanced and Nero was still sitting over his cups, when
Paris entered, who was generally wont at such times to heighten the
emperor&apos;s enjoyments, but who now wore a gloomy expression. He went
through the whole evidence in order, and so frightened his hearer
as to make him resolve not only on the destruction of his mother and
of Plautus, but also on the removal of Burrus from the command of
the guards, as a man who had been promoted by Agrippina&apos;s interest,
and was now showing his gratitude. We have it on the authority of
Fabius Rusticus that a note was written to Caecina Tuscus, intrusting
to him the charge of the praetorian cohorts, but that through Seneca&apos;s
influence that distinguished post was retained for Burrus. According
to Plinius and Cluvius, no doubt was felt about the commander&apos;s loyalty.
Fabius certainly inclines to the praise of Seneca, through whose friendship
he rose to honour. Proposing as I do to follow the consentient testimony
of historians, I shall give the differences in their narratives under
the writers&apos; names. Nero, in his bewilderment and impatience to destroy
his mother, could not be put off till Burrus answered for her death,
should she be convicted of the crime, but &quot;any one,&quot; he said, &quot;much
more a parent, must be allowed a defence. Accusers there were none
forthcoming; they had before them only the word of a single person
from an enemy&apos;s house, and this the night with its darkness and prolonged
festivity and everything savouring of recklessness and folly, was
enough to refute.&quot; 

Having thus allayed the prince&apos;s fears, they went at daybreak to Agrippina,
that she might know the charges against her, and either rebut them
or suffer the penalty. Burrus fulfilled his instructions in Seneca&apos;s
presence, and some of the freedmen were present to witness the interview.
Then Burrus, when he had fully explained the charges with the authors&apos;
names, assumed an air of menace. Instantly Agrippina, calling up all
her high spirit, exclaimed, &quot;I wonder not that Silana, who has never
borne offspring, knows nothing of a mother&apos;s feelings. 

Parents do not change their children as lightly as a shameless woman
does her paramours. And if Iturius and Calvisius, after having wasted
their whole fortunes, are now, as their last resource, repaying an
old hag for their hire by undertaking to be informers, it does not
follow that I am to incur the infamy of plotting a son&apos;s murder, or
that a Caesar is to have the consciousness of like guilt. As for Domitia&apos;s
enmity, I should be thankful for it, were she to vie with me in goodwill
towards my Nero. Now through her paramour, Atimetus, and the actor,
Paris, she is, so to say, concocting a drama for the stage. She at
her Baiae was increasing the magnificence of her fishponds, when I
was planning in my counsels his adoption with a proconsul&apos;s powers
and a consul-elect&apos;s rank and every other step to empire. Only let
the man come forward who can charge me with having tampered with the
praetorian cohorts in the capital, with having sapped the loyalty
of the provinces, or, in a word, with having bribed slaves and freedmen
into any wickedness. Could I have lived with Britannicus in the possession
of power? And if Plautus or any other were to become master of the
State so as to sit in judgment on me, accusers forsooth would not
be forthcoming, to charge me not merely with a few incautious expressions
prompted by the eagerness of affection, but with guilt from which
a son alone could absolve me.&quot; 

There was profound excitement among those present, and they even tried
to soothe her agitation, but she insisted on an interview with her
son. Then, instead of pleading her innocence, as though she lacked
confidence, or her claims on him by way of reproach, she obtained
vengeance on her accusers and rewards for her friends. 

The superintendence of the corn supply was given to Faenius Rufus,
the direction of the games which the emperor was preparing, to Arruntius
Stella, and the province of Egypt to Caius Balbillus. Syria was to
be assigned to Publius Anteius, but he was soon put off by various
artifices and finally detained at Rome. Silana was banished; Calvisius
and Iturius exiled for a time; Atimetus was capitally punished, while
Paris was too serviceable to the emperor&apos;s profligacy to allow of
his suffering any penalty. Plautus for the present was silently passed
over. 

Next Pallas and Burrus were accused of having conspired to raise Cornelius
Sulla to the throne, because of his noble birth and connection with
Claudius, whose son-in-law he was by his marriage with Antonia. The
promoter of the prosecution was one Paetus, who had become notorious
by frequent purchases of property confiscated to the exchequer and
was now convicted clearly of imposture. But the proved innocence of
Pallas did Pallas did not please men so much, as his arrogance offended
them. When his freedmen, his alleged accomplices, were called, he
replied that at home he signified his wishes only by a nod or a gesture,
or, if further explanation was required, he used writing, so as not
to degrade his voice in such company. Burrus, though accused, gave
his verdict as one of the judges. The prosecutor was sentenced to
exile, and the account-books in which he was reviving forgotten claims
of the exchequer, were burnt. 

At the end of the year the cohort usually on guard during the games
was withdrawn, that there might be a greater show of freedom, that
the soldiery too might be less demoralised when no longer in contact
with the licence of the theatre, and that it might be proved whether
the populace, in the absence of a guard, would maintain their self-control.
The emperor, on the advice of the augurs, purified Rome by a lustration,
as the temples of Jupiter and Minerva had been struck by lightning.

In the consulship of Quintus Volusius and Publius Scipio, there was
peace abroad, but a disgusting licentiousness at home on the part
of Nero, who in a slave&apos;s disguise, so as to be unrecognized, would
wander through the streets of Rome, to brothels and taverns, with
comrades, who seized on goods exposed for sale and inflicted wounds
on any whom they encountered, some of these last knowing him so little
that he even received blows himself, and showed the marks of them
in his face. When it was notorious that the emperor was the assailant,
and the insults on men and women of distinction were multiplied, other
persons too on the strength of a licence once granted under Nero&apos;s
name, ventured with impunity on the same practices, and had gangs
of their own, till night presented the scenes of a captured city.
Julius Montanus, a senator, but one who had not yet held any office,
happened to encounter the prince in the darkness, and because he fiercely
repulsed his attack and then on recognizing him begged for mercy,
as though this was a reproach, forced to destroy himself. Nero was
for the future more timid, and surrounded himself with soldiers and
a number of gladiators, who, when a fray began on a small scale and
seemed a private affair, were to let it alone, but, if the injured
persons resisted stoutly, they rushed in with their swords. He also
turned the licence of the games and the enthusiasm for the actors
into something like a battle by the impunity he allowed, and the rewards
he offered, and especially by looking on himself, sometimes concealed,
but often in public view, till, with the people at strife and the
fear of a worse commotion, the only remedy which could be devised
was the expulsion of the offending actors from Italy, and the presence
once more of the soldiery in the theatre. 

During the same time there was a discussion in the Senate on the misconduct
of the freedmen class, and a strong demand was made that, as a check
on the undeserving, patrons should have the right of revoking freedom.
There were several who supported this. But the consuls did not venture
to put the motion without the emperor&apos;s knowledge, though they recorded
the Senate&apos;s general opinion, to see whether he would sanction the
arrangement, considering that only a few were opposed to it, while
some loudly complained that the irreverent spirit which freedom had
fostered, had broken into such excess, that freedmen would ask their
patrons&apos; advice as to whether they should treat them with violence,
or, as legally, their equals, and would actually threaten them with
blows, at the same time recommending them not to punish. &quot;What right,&quot;
it was asked, &quot;was conceded to an injured patron but that of temporarily
banishing the freedman a hundred miles off to the shores of Campania?
In everything else, legal proceedings were equal and the same for
both. Some weapon ought to be given to the patrons which could not
be despised. It would be no grievance for the enfranchised to have
to keep their freedom by the same respectful behaviour which had procured
it for them. But, as for notorious offenders, they deserved to be
dragged back into slavery, that fear might be a restraint where kindness
had had no effect.&quot; 

It was argued in reply that, though the guilt of a few ought to be
the ruin of the men themselves, there should be no diminution of the
rights of the entire class. &quot;For it was,&quot; they contended, &quot;a widely
diffused body; from it, the city tribes, the various public functionaries,
the establishments of the magistrates and priests were for the most
part supplied, as well as the cohorts of the city-guard; very many
too of the knights and several of the senators derived their origin
from no other source. If freedmen were to be a separate class, the
paucity of the freeborn would be conspicuously apparent. Not without
good reason had our ancestors, in distinguishing the position of the
different orders, thrown freedom open to all. Again, two kinds of
enfranchisement had been instituted, so as to leave room for retracting
the boon, or for a fresh act of grace. Those whom the patron had not
emancipated with the freedom-giving rod, were still held, as it were,
by the bonds of slavery. Every master should carefully consider the
merits of each case, and be slow to grant what once given could not
be taken away.&quot; 

This view prevailed, and the emperor replied to the Senate that, whenever
freedmen were accused by their patrons, they were to investigate each
case separately and not to annul any right to their common injury.
Soon afterwards, his aunt Domitia had her freedman Paris taken from
her, avowedly by civil law, much to the emperor&apos;s disgrace, by whose
direction a decision that he was freeborn was obtained. 

Still there yet remained some shadow of a free state. A contest arose
between Vibullius, the praetor, and Antistius, a tribune of the people;
for the tribune had ordered the release of some disorderly applauders
of certain actors, whom the praetor had imprisoned. The Senate approved
the imprisonment, and censured the presumption of Antistius. Tribunes
were also forbidden to usurp the authority of praetors and consuls,
or to summon from any part of Italy persons liable to legal proceedings.
It was further proposed by Lucius Piso, consul-elect, that tribunes
were not to try any case in their own houses, that a fine imposed
by them was not to be entered on the public books by the officials
of the exchequer, till four months had expired, and that in the meantime
appeals were to be allowed, which the consuls were to decide.

Restrictions were also put on the powers of the aediles and a limit
fixed to the amount of bail or penalty which curule and plebeian aediles
could respectively exact. On this, Helvidius Priscus, a tribune of
the people, followed up a personal quarrel he had with Obultronius
Sabinus, one of the officials of the exchequer, by insinuating that
he stretched his right of confiscation with merciless rigour against
the poor. The emperor then transferred the charge of the public accounts
from these officers to the commissioners. 

The arrangement of this business had been variously and frequently
altered. Augustus allowed the Senate to appoint commissioners; then,
when corrupt practices were suspected in the voting, men were chosen
by lot for the office out of the whole number of praetors. This did
not last long, as the lot strayed away to unfit persons. Claudius
then again appointed quaestors, and that they might not be too lax
in their duties from fear of offending, he promised them promotion
out of the usual course. But what they lacked was the firmness of
mature age, entering, as they did, on this office as their first step,
and so Nero appointed ex-praetors of approved competency.

During the same consulship, Vipsanius Laenas was condemned for rapacity
in his administration of the province of Sardinia. Cestius Proculus
was acquitted of extortion, his accusers dropping the charge. Clodius
Quirinalis, having, when in command of the crews at Ravenna, caused
grievous distress to Italy by his profligacy and cruelty, just as
if it were the most contemptible of countries, forestalled his doom
by poison. Caninius Rebilus, one of the first men in legal knowledge
and vastness of wealth, escaped the miseries of an old age of broken
health by letting the blood trickle from his veins, though men did
not credit him with sufficient resolution for a self-inflicted death,
because of his infamous effeminacy. Lucius Volusius on the other hand
died with a glorious name. There was his long life of ninety-three
years, his conspicuous wealth, honourably acquired, and his wise avoidance
of the malignity of so many emperors. 

During Nero&apos;s second consulship with Lucius Piso for his colleague,
little occurred deserving mention, unless one were to take pleasure
in filling volumes with the praise of the foundations and timber work
on which the emperor piled the immense amphitheatre in the Field of
Mars. But we have learnt that it suits the dignity of the Roman people
to reserve history for great achievements, and to leave such details
to the city&apos;s daily register. I may mention that the colonies of Nuceria
and Capua were strengthened by an addition of veterans; to every member
of the city populace four hundred sesterces were given, and forty
million paid into the exchequer to maintain the credit of the citizens.

A tax also of four per cent. on the sale of slaves was remitted, an
apparent more than a real boon, for as the seller was ordered to pay
it, purchasers found that it was added as part of the price. The emperor
by an edict forbade any magistrate or procurator in the government
of a province to exhibit a show of gladiators, or of wild beasts,
or indeed any other public entertainment; for hitherto our subjects
had been as much oppressed by such bribery as by actual extortion,
while governors sought to screen by corruption the guilty deeds of
arbitrary caprice. 

The Senate next passed a decree, providing alike for punishment and
safety. If a master were murdered by his slaves, all those who were
enfranchised by his will and lived under the same roof, were to suffer
the capital punishment with his other slaves. Lucius Varius, an ex-consul,
who had been crushed in the past under charges of extortion, was restored
to his rank as a senator. Pomponia Graecina, a distinguished lady,
wife of the Plautius who returned from Britain with an ovation, was
accused of some foreign superstition and handed over to her husband&apos;s
judicial decision. Following ancient precedent, he heard his wife&apos;s
cause in the presence of kinsfolk, involving, as it did, her legal
status and character, and he reported that she was innocent. This
Pomponia lived a long life of unbroken melancholy. After the murder
of Julia, Drusus&apos;s daughter, by Messalina&apos;s treachery, for forty years
she wore only the attire of a mourner, with a heart ever sorrowful.
For this, during Claudius&apos;s reign, she escaped unpunished, and it
was afterwards counted a glory to her. 

The same year saw many impeached. One of these, Publius Celer, prosecuted
by the province of Asia, the emperor could not acquit, and so he put
off the case till the man died of old age. Celer, as I have related,
had murdered Silanus, the pro-consul, and the magnitude of this crime
veiled his other enormities. Cossutianus Capito was accused by the
people of Cilicia; he was a man stained with the foulest guilt, and
had actually imagined that his audacious wickedness had the same rights
in a province as he had claimed for it at Rome. But he had to confront
a determined prosecution, and at last abandoned his defence. Eprius
Marcellus, from whom Lycia demanded compensation, was so powerfully
supported by corrupt influence that some of his accusers were punished
with exile, as though they had imperilled an innocent man.

Nero entered on his third consulship with Valerius Messala, whose
great-grandfather, the orator Corvinus, was still remembered by a
few old men, as having been the colleague of the Divine Augustus,
Nero&apos;s great-grandfather, in the same office. But the honour of a
noble house was further increased by an annual grant of five hundred
thousand sesterces on which Messala might support virtuous poverty.
Aurelius Cotta, too, and Haterius Antonius had yearly stipends assigned
them by the emperor, though they had squandered their ancestral wealth
in profligacy. 

Early in this year a war between Parthia and Rome about the possession
of Armenia, which, feebly begun, had hitherto dragged on, was vigorously
resumed. For Vologeses would not allow his brother Tiridates to be
deprived of a kingdom which he had himself given him, or to hold it
as a gift from a foreign power, and Corbulo too thought it due to
the grandeur of Rome that he should recover what Lucullus and Pompeius
had formerly won. Besides, the Armenians in the fluctuations of their
allegiance sought the armed protection of both empires, though by
their country&apos;s position, by resemblance of manners, and by the ties
of intermarriage, they were more connected with the Parthians, to
whose subjection, in their ignorance of freedom, they rather inclined.

Corbulo however had more to struggle against in the supineness of
his soldiers than in the treachery of the enemy. His legions indeed,
transferred as they had been from Syria and demoralised by a long
peace, endured most impatiently the duties of a Roman camp. It was
well known that that army contained veterans who had never been on
piquet duty or on night guard, to whom the rampart and the fosse were
new and strange sights, men without helmets or breastplates, sleek
money-making traders, who had served all their time in towns. Corbulo
having discharged all who were old or in ill-health, sought to supply
their places, and levies were held in Galatia and Cappadocia, and
to these were added a legion from Germany with its auxiliary cavalry
and light infantry. The entire army was kept under canvas, though
the winter was so severe that the ground, covered as it was with ice,
did not yield a place for the tents without being dug up. Many of
the men had their limbs frost-bitten through the intensity of the
cold, and some perished on guard. A soldier was observed whose hands
mortified as he was carrying a bundle of wood, so that sticking to
their burden they dropped off from his arms, now mere stumps. The
general, lightly clad, with head uncovered, was continually with his
men on the march, amid their labours; he had praise for the brave,
comfort for the feeble, and was a good example to all. And then as
many shrank from the rigour of the climate and of the service, and
deserted, he sought a remedy in strictness of discipline. Not, as
in other armies, was a first or second offense condoned, but the soldier,
who had quitted his colours, instantly paid the penalty with his life.
This was shown by experience to be a wholesome measure, better than
mercy; for there were fewer desertions in that camp than in those
in which leniency was habitual. 

Meanwhile Corbulo kept his legions within the camp till spring weather
was fairly established, and having stationed his auxiliary infantry
at suitable points, he directed them not to begin an engagement. The
charge of these defensive positions he entrusted to Paccius Orfitus,
who had held the post of a first-rank centurion. Though this officer
had reported that the barbarians were heedless, and that an opportunity
for success presented itself, he was instructed to keep within his
entrenchments and to wait for a stronger force. But he broke the order,
and on the arrival of a few cavalry squadrons from the nearest forts,
who in their inexperience insisted on fighting, he engaged the enemy
and was routed. Panic-stricken by his disaster, those who ought to
have given him support returned in precipitate flight to their respective
encampments. Corbulo heard of this with displeasure; he sharply censured
Paccius, the officers and soldiers, and ordered them to have their
quarters outside the lines. There they were kept in disgrace, and
were released only on the intercession of the whole army.

Tiridates meantime who, besides his own dependencies, had the powerful
aid of his brother Vologeses, ravaged Armenia, not in stealthy raids
as before, but in open war, plundering all whom he thought loyal to
Rome, while he eluded an action with any force which was brought against
him, and thus flying hither and thither, he spread panic more widely
by rumour than by arms. So Corbulo, frustrated in his prolonged efforts
to bring on an engagement and compelled, like the enemy, to carry
hostilities everywhere, divided his army, so that his generals and
officers might attack several points simultaneously. He at the same
time instructed king Antiochus to hasten to the provinces on his frontier,
as Pharasmanes, after having slain his son Rhadamistus as a traitor
to prove his loyalty to us, was following up more keenly than ever
his old feud with the Armenians. Then, for the first time, we won
the friendship of the Moschi, a nation which became pre-eminently
attached to Rome, and they overran the wilds of Armenia. Thus the
intended plans of Tiridates were wholly reversed, and he sent envoys
to ask on behalf of himself and of the Parthians, why, when hostages
had lately been given and a friendship renewed which might open up
a way to further acts of good will, he was thus driven from Armenia,
his ancient possession. 

&quot;As yet,&quot; he said, &quot;Vologeses had not bestirred himself, simply because
they preferred negotiation to violence. Should however war be persisted
in, the Arsacids would not want the courage and good fortune which
had already been proved more than once by disaster to Rome.&quot; Corbulo
in reply, when he was certain that Vologeses was detained by the revolt
of Hyrcania, advised Tiridates to address a petition to the emperor,
assuring him that he might reign securely and without bloodshed by
relinquishing a prospect in the remote future for the sake of one
more solid within his reach. 

As no progress was made towards a final settlement of peace by the
interchange of messages, it was at last decided to fix a time and
a place for an interview between the leaders. &quot;A thousand troopers,&quot;
Tiridates said, &quot;would be his escort; what force of every kind was
to be with Corbulo, he did not prescribe, provided they came in peaceful
fashion, without breastplates and helmets.&quot; Any human being, to say
nothing of an old and wary general, would have seen through the barbarian&apos;s
cunning, which assigned a limited number on one side and offered a
larger on the other, expressly with a treacherous intent; for, were
they to be exposed to a cavalry trained in the use of arrows, with
the person undefended, numbers would be unavailing. Corbulo however,
pretending not to understand this, replied that they would do better
to discuss matters requiring consideration for their common good,
in the presence of the entire armies, and he selected a place partly
consisting of gently sloping hills, suited for ranks of infantry,
partly, of a spreading plain where troops of cavalry could manoeuvre.
On the appointed day, arriving first, he posted his allied infantry
with the king&apos;s auxiliaries on the wings, the sixth legion in the
centre, with which he had united three thousand men of the third,
brought up in the night from another camp, with one eagle, so as to
look like a single legion. Tiridates towards evening showed himself
at some distance whence he could be seen rather than heard. And so
the Roman general, without any conference, ordered his troops to retire
to their respective camps. 

The king either suspecting a stratagem from these simultaneous movements
in different directions, or intending to cut off our supplies as they
were coming up from the sea of Pontus and the town of Trapezus, hastily
withdrew. He could not however make any attack on the supplies, as
they were brought over mountains in the occupation of our forces.
Corbulo, that war might not be uselessly protracted, and also to compel
the Armenians to defend their possessions, prepared to destroy their
fortresses, himself undertaking the assault on the strongest of all
in that province named Volandum. The weaker he assigned to Cornelius
Flaccus, his lieutenant, and to Insteius Capito, his camp-prefect.
Having then surveyed the defences and provided everything suitable
for storming them, he exhorted his soldiers to strip of his home this
vagabond foe who was preparing neither for peace nor for war, but
who confessed his treachery and cowardice by flight, and so to secure
alike glory and spoil. Then forming his army into four divisions,
he led one in the dense array of the &quot;testudo&quot; close up to the rampart,
to undermine it, while others were ordered to apply scaling ladders
to the walls, and many more were to discharge brands and javelins
from engines. The slingers and artillerymen had a position assigned
them from which to hurl their missiles at a distance, so that, with
equal tumult everywhere, no support might be given from any point
to such as were pressed. So impetuous were the efforts of the army
that within a third part of one day the walls were stripped of their
defenders, the barriers of the gates overthrown, the fortifications
scaled and captured, and all the adult inhabitants massacred, without
the loss of a soldier and with but very few wounded. The nonmilitary
population were sold by auction; the rest of the booty fell to the
conquerors. 

Corbulo&apos;s lieutenant and camp-prefect met with similar success; three
forts were stormed by them in one day, and the remainder, some from
panic, others by the consent of the occupants, capitulated. This inspired
them with confidence to attack the capital of the country, Artaxata.
The legions however were not marched by the nearest route, for should
they cross the river Avaxes which washes the city&apos;s walls by a bridge,
they would be within missile-range. They passed over it at a distance,
where it was broad and shallow. 

Meantime Tiridates, ashamed of seeming utterly powerless by not interfering
with the siege, and afraid that, in attempting to stop it, he would
entangle himself and his cavalry on difficult ground, resolved finally
to display his forces and either give battle on the first opportunity,
or, by a pretended flight, prepare the way for some stratagem. Suddenly,
he threw himself on the Roman columns, without however surprising
our general, who had formed his army for fighting as well as for marching.
On the right and left flanks marched the third and sixth legions,
with some picked men of the tenth in the centre; the baggage was secured
within the lines, and the rear was guarded by a thousand cavalry,
who were ordered to resist any close attack of the enemy, but not
to pursue his retreat. On the wings were the foot-archers and the
remainder of the cavalry, with a more extended line on the left wing,
along the base of some hills, so that should the enemy penetrate the
centre, he might be encountered both in front and flank. Tiridates
faced us in skirmishing order, but not within missile-range, now threatening
attack, now seemingly afraid, with the view of loosening our formation
and falling on isolated divisions. Finding that there was no breaking
of our ranks from rashness, and that only one cavalry officer advanced
too boldly, and that he falling pierced with arrows, confirmed the
rest in obedience by the warning, he retired on the approach of darkness.

Corbulo then encamped on the spot, and considered whether he should
push on his legions without their baggage to Artaxata and blockade
the city, on which, he supposed, Tiridates had fallen back. When his
scouts reported that the king had undertaken a long march, and that
it was doubtful whether Media or Albania was its destination, he waited
for daylight, and then sent on his light-armed troops, which were
meanwhile to hover round the walls and begin the attack from a distance.
The inhabitants however opened the gates of their own accord, and
surrendered themselves and their property to the Romans. This saved
their lives; the city was fired, demolished and levelled to the ground,
as it could not be held without a strong garrison from the extent
of the walls, and we had not sufficient force to be divided between
adequately garrisoning it and carrying on the war. If again the place
were left untouched and unguarded, no advantage or glory would accrue
from its capture. Then too there was a wonderful occurrence, almost
a divine interposition. While the whole space outside the town, up
to its buildings, was bright with sunlight, the enclosure within the
walls was suddenly shrouded in a black cloud, seamed with lightning-flashes,
and thus the city was thought to be given up to destruction, as if
heaven was wroth against it. 

For all this Nero was unanimously saluted emperor, and by the Senate&apos;s
decree a thanksgiving was held; statues also, arches and successive
consulships were voted to him, and among the holy days were to be
included the day on which the victory was won, that on which it was
announced, and that on which the motion was brought forward. Other
proposals too of a like kind were carried, on a scale so extravagant,
that Caius Cassius, after having assented to the rest of the honours,
argued that if the gods were to be thanked for the bountiful favours
of fortune, even a whole year would not suffice for thanksgivings,
and therefore there ought to be a classification of sacred and business-days,
that so they might observe divine ordinances and yet not interfer
with human affairs. 

A man who had struggled with various calamities and earned the hate
of many, was then impeached and condemned, but not without angry feelings
towards Seneca. This was Publius Suilius. He had been terrible and
venal, while Claudius reigned, and when times were changed, he was
not so much humbled as his enemies wished, and was one who would rather
seem a criminal than a suppliant. With the intent of crushing him,
so men believed, a decree of the Senate was revived, along with the
penalty of the Cincian law against persons who had pleaded for hire.
Suilius spared not complaint or indignant remonstrance; freespoken
because of his extreme age as well as from his insolent temper, he
taunted Seneca with his savage enmity against the friends of Claudius,
under whose reign he had endured a most righteously deserved exile.
&quot;The man,&quot; he said, &quot;familiar as he was only with profitless studies,
and with the ignorance of boyhood, envied those who employed a lively
and genuine eloquence in the defence of their fellow-citizens. He
had been Germanicus&apos;s quaestor, while Seneca had been a paramour in
his house. Was it to be thought a worse offence to obtain a reward
for honest service with the litigant&apos;s consent, than to pollute the
chambers of the imperial ladies? By what kind of wisdom or maxims
of philosophy had Seneca within four years of royal favour amassed
three hundred million sesterces? At Rome the wills of the childless
were, so to say, caught in his snare while Italy and the provinces
were drained by a boundless usury. His own money, on the other hand,
had been acquired by industry and was not excessive. He would suffer
prosecutions, perils, anything indeed rather than make an old and
self-learned position of honour to bow before an upstart prosperity.&quot;

Persons were not wanting to report all this to Seneca, in the exact
words, or with a worse sense put on it. Accusers were also found who
alleged that our allies had been plundered, when Suilius governed
the province of Asia, and that there had been embezzlement of public
monies. Then, as an entire year had been granted to them for inquiries,
it seemed a shorter plan to begin with his crimes at Rome, the witnesses
of which were on the spot. These men charged Suilius with having driven
Quintus Pomponius by a relentless prosecution into the extremity of
civil war, with having forced Julia, Drusus&apos;s daughter, and Sabina
Poppaea to suicide, with having treacherously ruined Valerius Asiaticus,
Lusius Saturninus and Cornelius Lupus, in fact, with the wholesale
conviction of troops of Roman knights, and with all the cruelty of
Claudius. His defence was that of all this he had done nothing on
his own responsibility but had simply obeyed the emperor, till Nero
stopped such pleadings, by stating that he had ascertained from his
father&apos;s notebooks that he had never compelled the prosecution of
a single person. 

Suilius then sheltered himself under Messalina&apos;s orders, and the defence
began to collapse. &quot;Why,&quot; it was asked, &quot;was no one else chosen to
put his tongue at the service of that savage harlot? We must punish
the instruments of atrocious acts, when, having gained the rewards
of wickedness, they impute the wickedness to others.&quot; 

And so, with the loss of half his property, his son and granddaughter
being allowed to retain the other half, and what they had inherited
under their mother&apos;s or grandmother&apos;s will being also exempted from
confiscation, Suilius was banished to the Balearic isles. Neither
in the crisis of his peril nor after his condemnation did he quail
in spirit. Rumour said that he supported that lonely exile by a life
of ease and plenty. When the accusers attacked his son Nerullinus
on the strength of men&apos;s hatred of the father and of some charges
of extortion, the emperor interposed, as if implying that vengeange
was fully satisfied. 

About the same time Octavius Sagitta, a tribune of the people, who
was enamoured to frenzy of Pontia, a married woman, bribed her by
most costly presents into an intrigue and then into abandoning her
husband. He had offered her marriage and had won her consent. But
as soon as she was free, she devised delays, pretended that her father&apos;s
wishes were against it, and having secured the prospect of a richer
husband, she repudiated her promises. Octavius, on the other hand,
now remonstrated, now threatened; his good name, he protested, was
lost, his means exhausted, and as for his life, which was all that
was left to him, he surrendered it to her mercy. When she spurned
him, he asked the solace of one night, with which to soothe his passion,
that he might set bounds to it for the future. A night was fixed,
and Pontia intrusted the charge of her chamber to a female slave acquainted
with her secret. Octavius attended by one freedman entered with a
dagger concealed under his dress. Then, as usual in lovers&apos; quarrels,
there were chidings, entreaties, reproaches, excuses, and some period
of the darkness was given up to passion; then, when seemingly about
to go, and she was fearing nothing, he stabbed her with the steel,
and having wounded and scared away the slave girl who was hurrying
to her, rushed out of the chamber. Next day the murder was notorious,
and there was no question as to the murderer, for it was proved that
he had passed some time with her. The freedman, however, declared
the deed was his, that he had, in fact, avenged his patron&apos;s wrongs.
He had made some impression by the nobleness of his example, when
the slave girl recovered and revealed the truth. Octavius, when he
ceased to be tribune, was prosecuted before the consuls by the father
of the murdered woman, and was condemned by the sentence of the Senate
under &quot;the law concerning assassins.&quot; 

A profligacy equally notorious in that same year proved the beginning
of great evils to the State. There was at Rome one Sabina Poppaea;
her father was Titus Ollius, but she had assumed the name of her maternal
grandfather Poppaeus Sabinus, a man of illustrious memory and pre-eminently
distinguished by the honours of a consulship and a triumph. As for
Ollius, before he attained promotion, the friendship of Sejanus was
his ruin. This Poppaea had everything but a right mind. Her mother,
who surpassed in personal attractions all the ladies of her day, had
bequeathed to her alike fame and beauty. Her fortune adequately corresponded
to the nobility of her descent. Her conversation was charming and
her wit anything but dull. She professed virtue, while she practised
laxity. Seldom did she appear in public, and it was always with her
face partly veiled, either to disappoint men&apos;s gaze or to set off
her beauty. Her character she never spared, making no distinction
between a husband and a paramour, while she was never a slave to her
own passion or to that of her lover. Wherever there was a prospect
of advantage, there she transferred her favours. And so while she
was living as the wife of Rufius Crispinus, a Roman knight, by whom
she had a son, she was attracted by the youth and fashionable elegance
of Otho, and by the fact too that he was reputed to have Nero&apos;s most
ardent friendship. Without any delay the intrigue was followed by
marriage. 

Otho now began to praise his wife&apos;s beauty and accomplishments to
the emperor, either from a lover&apos;s thoughtlessness or to inflame Nero&apos;s
passion, in the hope of adding to his own influence by the further
tie which would arise out of possession of the same woman. Often,
as he rose from the emperor&apos;s table, was he heard repeatedly to say
that he was going to her, to the high birth and beauty which had fallen
to his lot, to that which all men pray for, the joy of the fortunate.
These and like incitements allowed but of brief delay. Once having
gained admission, Poppaea won her way by artful blandishments, pretending
that she could not resist her passion and that she was captivated
by Nero&apos;s person. Soon, as the emperor&apos;s love grew ardent, she would
change and be supercilious, and, if she were detained more than one
or two nights, would say again and again that she was a married woman
and could not give up her husband attached as she was to Otho by a
manner of life, which no one equalled. &quot;His ideas and his style were
grand; at his house everything worthy of the highest fortune was ever
before her eyes. Nero, on the contrary, with his slave girl mistress,
tied down by his attachment to Acte, had derived nothing from his
slavish associations but what was low and degrading.&quot; 

Otho was now cut off from Nero&apos;s usual familiar intercourse, and then
even from interviews and from the royal suite, and at last was appointed
governor of the province of Lusitania, that he might not be the emperor&apos;s
rival at Rome. There he lived up to the time of the civil wars, not
in the fashion of his disgraceful past, but uprightly and virtuously,
a pleasure-loving man when idle, and self-restrained when in power.

Hitherto Nero had sought a veil for his abominations and wickedness.
He was particularly suspicious of Cornelius Sulla, whose apathetic
temper he interpreted as really the reverse, inferring that he was,
in fact, an artful dissembler. Graptus, one of the emperor&apos;s freedmen,
whose age and experience had made him thoroughly acquainted with the
imperial household from the time of Tiberius, quickened these apprehensions
by the following falsehood. The Mulvian bridge was then a famous haunt
of nightly profligacy, and Nero used to go there that he might take
his pleasures more freely outside the city. So Graptus, taking advantage
of an idle panic into which the royal attendants had chanced to have
been thrown on their return by one of those youthful frolics which
were then everywhere practised, invented a story that a treacherous
attack had been planned on the emperor, should he go back by the Flaminian
road, and that through the favour of destiny he had escaped it, as
he went home by a different way to Sallust&apos;s gardens. Sulla, he said,
was the author of this plot. Not one, however, of Sulla&apos;s slaves or
clients was recognised, and his character, despicable as it was and
incapable of a daring act, was utterly at variance with the charge.
Still, just as if he had been found guilty, he was ordered to leave
his country, and confine himself within the walls of Massilia.

During the same consulship a hearing was given to two conflicting
deputations from Puteoli, sent to the Senate by the town council and
by the populace. The first spoke bitterly of the violence of the multitude;
the second, of the rapacity of the magistrates and of all the chief
citizens. That the disturbance, which had gone as far as stoning and
threats of fire, might not lead on to bloodshed and armed fighting,
Caius Cassius was appointed to apply some remedy. As they would not
endure his rigour, the charge of the affair was at his own request
transferred to the brothers Scribonii, to whom was given a praetorian
cohort, the terror of which, coupled with the execution of a few persons,
restored peace to the townspeople. 

I should not mention a very trivial decree of the Senate which allowed
the city of Syracuse to exceed the prescribed number in their gladiatorial
shows, had not Paetus Thrasea spoken against it and furnished his
traducers with a ground for censuring his motion. &quot;Why,&quot; it was asked,
&quot;if he thought that the public welfare required freedom of speech
in the Senate, did he pursue such trifling abuses? Why should he not
speak for or against peace and war, or on the taxes and laws and other
matters involving Roman interests? The senators, as often as they
received the privilege of stating an opinion, were at liberty to say
out what they pleased, and to claim that it should be put to the vote.
Was it the only worthy object of reform to provide that the Syracusans
should not give shows on a larger scale? Were all other matters in
every department of the empire as admirable as if Thrasea and not
Nero had the direction of them? But if the highest affairs were passed
by and ignored, how much more ought there to be no meddling with things
wholly insignificant.&quot; 

Thrasea in reply, when his friends asked an explanation, said &quot;that
it was not in ignorance of Rome&apos;s actual condition that he sought
to correct such decrees, but that he was giving what was due to the
honour of the senators, in making it evident that those who attended
even to the merest trifles, would not disguise their responsibility
for important affairs.&quot; 

That same year, repeated demands on the part of the people, who denounced
the excessive greed of the revenue collectors, made Nero doubt whether
he should not order the repeal of all indirect taxes, and so confer
a most splendid boon on the human race. But this sudden impulse was
checked by the senators, who, having first heartily praised the grandeur
of his conception, pointed out &quot;that the dissolution of the empire
must ensue if the revenues which supported the State were to be diminished;
for as soon as the customs were swept away, there would follow a demand
for the abolition of the direct taxes. Many companies for the collection
of the indirect taxes had been formed by consuls and tribunes, when
the freedom of the Roman people was still in its vigour, and arrangements
were subsequently made to insure an exact correspondence between the
amount of income and the necessary disbursements. Certainly some restraint,
they admitted, must be put on the cupidity of the revenue collectors,
that they might not by new oppressions bring into odium what for so
many years had been endured without a complaint.&quot; 

Accordingly the emperor issued an edict that the regulations about
every branch of the public revenue, which had hitherto been kept secret,
should be published; that claims which had been dropped should not
be revived after a year; that the praetor at Rome, the propraetor
or proconsul in the provinces, should give judicial precedence to
all cases against the collectors; that the soldiers should retain
their immunities except when they traded for profit, with other very
equitable arrangements, which for a short time were maintained and
were subsequently disregarded. However, the repeal of the two per
cent. and two-and-a-half per cent. taxes remains in force, as well
as that of others bearing names invented by the collectors to cover
their illegal exactions. In our transmarine provinces the conveyance
of corn was rendered less costly, and it was decided that merchant
ships should not be assessed with their owner&apos;s property, and that
no tax should be paid on them. 

Two men under prosecution from Africa, in which province they had
held proconsular authority, Sulpicius Camerinus and Pomponius Silvanus,
were acquitted by the emperor. Camerinus had against him a few private
persons who charged him with cruelty rather than with extortion. Silvanus
was beset by a host of accusers, who demanded time for summoning their
witnesses, while the defendant insisted on being at once put on his
defence. And he was successful, through his wealth, his childlessness,
and his old age, which he prolonged beyond the life of those by whose
corrupt influence he had escaped. 

Up to this time everything had been quiet in Germany, from the temper
of the generals, who, now that triumphal decorations had been vulgarised,
hoped for greater glory by the maintenance of peace. Paulinus Pompeius
and Lucius Vetus were then in command of the army. Still, to avoid
keeping the soldiers in idleness, the first completed the embankment
begun sixty-three years before by Drusus to confine the waters of
the Rhine, while Vetus prepared to connect the Moselle and the Arar
by a canal, so that troops crossing the sea and then conveyed on the
Rhone and Arar might sail by this canal into the Moselle and the Rhine,
and thence to the ocean. Thus the difficulties of the route being
removed, there would be communication for ships between the shores
of the west and of the north. 

Aelius Gracilis, the governor of Belgica, discouraged the work by
seeking to deter Vetus from bringing his legions into another man&apos;s
province, and so drawing to himself the attachment of Gaul. This result
he repeatedly said would excite the fears of the emperor, an assertion
by which meritorious undertakings are often hindered. 

Meantime, from the continued inaction of our armies, a rumour prevailed
that the commanders had been deprived of the right of leading them
against the enemy. Thereupon the Frisii moved up their youth to the
forests and swamps, and their non-fighting population, over the lakes,
to the river-bank, and established themselves in unoccupied lands,
reserved for the use of our soldiers, under the leadership of Verritus
and Malorix, the kings of the tribe, as far as Germans are under kings.
Already they had settled themselves in houses, had sown the fields,
and were cultivating the soil as if it had been their ancestors&apos;,
when Dubius Avitus, who had succeeded Paulinus in the province, by
threatening them with a Roman attack if they did not retire into their
old country or obtain a new territory from the emperor, constrained
Verritus and Malorix to become suppliants. They went to Rome, and
while they waited for Nero, who was intent on other engagements, among
the sights shown to the barbarians they were admitted into Pompey&apos;s
theatre, where they might behold the vastness of the Roman people.
There at their leisure (for in the entertainment, ignorant as they
were, they found no amusement) they asked questions about the crowd
on the benches, about the distinctions of classes, who were the knights,
where was the Senate, till they observed some persons in a foreign
dress on the seats of the senators. Having asked who they were, when
they were told that this honour was granted to envoys from those nations
which were distinguished for their bravery and their friendship to
Rome, they exclaimed that no men on earth surpassed the Germans in
arms or in loyalty. Then they went down and took their seat among
the senators. The spectators hailed the act goodnaturedly, as due
to the impulsiveness of a primitive people and to an honourable rivalry.
Nero gave both of them the Roman franchise, and ordered the Frisii
to withdraw from the territory in question. When they disdained obedience,
some auxiliary cavalry by a sudden attack made it a necessity for
them, capturing or slaughtering those who obstinately resisted.

Of this same territory, the Ampsivarii now possessed themselves, a
tribe more powerful not only from their numbers, but from having the
sympathy of the neighbouring peoples, as they had been expelled by
the Chauci and had to beg, as homeless outcasts, a secure exile. Their
cause was pleaded by a man, famous among those nations and loyal to
Rome, Boiocalus by name, who reminded us that on the Cheruscan revolt
he had been imprisoned by the order of Arminius, that afterwards he
had served under the leadership of Tiberius and of Germanicus, and
that to a fifty years&apos; obedience he was adding the merit of subjecting
his tribe to our dominion. &quot;What an extent of plain,&quot; he would say,
&quot;lies open into which the flocks and herds of the Roman soldiers may
some day be sent! Let them by all means keep retreats for their cattle,
while men are starving; only let them not prefer a waste and a solitude
to friendly nations. Once these fields belonged to the Chamavi; then
to the Tubantes; after them to the Usipii. As heaven is for the gods,
so the earth has been given to mankind, and lands uninhabited are
common to all.&quot; Then looking up to the sun and invoking the other
heavenly bodies, he asked them, as though standing in their presence,
&quot;whether they wished to behold an empty soil; rather let them submerge
it beneath the sea against the plunderers of the land.&quot; 

Avitus was impressed by this language and said that people must submit
to the rule of their betters; that the gods to whom they appealed,
had willed that the decision as to what should be given or taken from
them, was to rest with the Romans, who would allow none but themselves
to be judges. This was his public answer to the Ampsivarii; to Boiocalus
his reply was that in remembrance of past friendship he would cede
the lands in question. Boiocalus spurned the offer as the price of
treason, adding, &quot;We may lack a land to live in; we cannot lack one
to die in.&quot; And so they parted with mutual exasperation. The Ampsivarii
now called on the Bructeri, the Tencteri, and yet more distant tribes
to be their allies in war. Avitus, having written to Curtilius Mancia,
commander of the Upper army, asking him to cross the Rhine and display
his troops in the enemy&apos;s rear, himself led his legions into the territory
of the Tencteri, and threatened them with extermination unless they
dissociated themselves from the cause. When upon this the Tencteri
stood aloof, the Bructeri were cowed by a like terror. And so, as
the rest too were for averting perils which did not concern them,
the Ampsivarian tribe in its isolation retreated to the Usipii and
Tubantes. Driven out of these countries, they sought refuge with the
Chatti and then with the Cherusci, and after long wanderings, as destitute
outcasts, received now as friends now as foes, their entire youth
were slain in a strange land, and all who could not fight, were apportioned
as booty. 

The same summer a great battle was fought between the Hermunduri and
the Chatti, both forcibly claiming a river which produced salt in
plenty, and bounded their territories. They had not only a passion
for settling every question by arms, but also a deep-rooted superstition
that such localities are specially near to heaven, and that mortal
prayers are nowhere more attentively heard by the gods. It is, they
think, through the bounty of divine power, that in that river and
in those forests salt is produced, not, as in other countries, by
the drying up of an overflow of the sea, but by the combination of
two opposite elements, fire and water, when the latter had been poured
over a burning pile of wood. The war was a success for the Hermunduri,
and the more disastrous to the Chatti because they had devoted, in
the event of victory, the enemy&apos;s army to Mars and Mercury, a vow
which consigns horses, men, everything indeed on the vanquished side
to destruction. And so the hostile threat recoiled on themselves.
Meanwhile, a state in alliance with us, that of the Ubii, suffered
grievously from an unexpected calamity. Fires suddenly bursting from
the earth seized everywhere on country houses, crops, and villages,
and were rushing on to the very walls of the newly founded colony.
Nor could they be extinguished by the fall of rain, or by river-water,
or by any other moisture, till some countrymen, in despair of a remedy
and in fury at the disaster, flung stones from a distance, and then,
approaching nearer, as the flames began to sink, tried to scare them
away, like so many wild beasts, with the blows of clubs and other
weapons. At last they stript off their clothes and threw them on the
fire, which they were the more likely to quench, the more they had
been soiled by common use. 

That same year, the fact that the tree in the Comitium, which 840
years before had sheltered the infancy of Romulus and Remus, was impaired
by the decay of its boughs and by the withering of its stem, was accounted
a portent, till it began to renew its life with fresh shoots.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

BOOK XIV

A.D. 59-62 

In the year of the consulship of Caius Vipstanus and Caius Fonteius,
Nero deferred no more a long meditated crime. Length of power had
matured his daring, and his passion for Poppaea daily grew more ardent.
As the woman had no hope of marriage for herself or of Octavia&apos;s divorce
while Agrippina lived, she would reproach the emperor with incessant
vituperation and sometimes call him in jest a mere ward who was under
the rule of others, and was so far from having empire that he had
not even his liberty. &quot;Why,&quot; she asked, &quot;was her marriage put off?
Was it, forsooth, her beauty and her ancestors, with their triumphal
honours, that failed to please, or her being a mother, and her sincere
heart? No; the fear was that as a wife at least she would divulge
the wrongs of the Senate, and the wrath of the people at the arrogance
and rapacity of his mother. If the only daughter-in-law Agrippina
could bear was one who wished evil to her son, let her be restored
to her union with Otho. She would go anywhere in the world, where
she might hear of the insults heaped on the emperor, rather than witness
them, and be also involved in his perils.&quot; 

These and the like complaints, rendered impressive by tears and by
the cunning of an adulteress, no one checked, as all longed to see
the mother&apos;s power broken, while not a person believed that the son&apos;s
hatred would steel his heart to her murder. 

Cluvius relates that Agrippina in her eagerness to retain her influence
went so far that more than once at midday, when Nero, even at that
hour, was flushed with wine and feasting, she presented herself attractively
attired to her half intoxicated son and offered him her person, and
that when kinsfolk observed wanton kisses and caresses, portending
infamy, it was Seneca who sought a female&apos;s aid against a woman&apos;s
fascinations, and hurried in Acte, the freed-girl, who alarmed at
her own peril and at Nero&apos;s disgrace, told him that the incest was
notorious, as his mother boasted of it, and that the soldiers would
never endure the rule of an impious sovereign. Fabius Rusticus tells
us that it was not Agrippina, but Nero, who lusted for the crime,
and that it was frustrated by the adroitness of that same freed-girl.
Cluvius&apos;s account, however, is also that of all other authors, and
popular belief inclines to it, whether it was that Agrippina really
conceived such a monstrous wickedness in her heart, or perhaps because
the thought of a strange passion seemed comparatively credible in
a woman, who in her girlish years had allowed herself to be seduced
by Lepidus in the hope of winning power, had stooped with a like ambition
to the lust of Pallas, and had trained herself for every infamy by
her marriage with her uncle. 

Nero accordingly avoided secret interviews with her, and when she
withdrew to her gardens or to her estates at Tusculum and Antium,
he praised her for courting repose. At last, convinced that she would
be too formidable, wherever she might dwell, he resolved to destroy
her, merely deliberating whether it was to be accomplished by poison,
or by the sword, or by any other violent means. Poison at first seemed
best, but, were it to be administered at the imperial table, the result
could not be referred to chance after the recent circumstances of
the death of Britannicus. Again, to tamper with the servants of a
woman who, from her familiarity with crime, was on her guard against
treachery, appeared to be extremely difficult, and then, too, she
had fortified her constitution by the use of antidotes. How again
the dagger and its work were to be kept secret, no one could suggest,
and it was feared too that whoever might be chosen to execute such
a crime would spurn the order. 

An ingenious suggestion was offered by Anicetus, a freedman, commander
of the fleet at Misenum, who had been tutor to Nero in boyhood and
had a hatred of Agrippina which she reciprocated. He explained that
a vessel could be constructed, from which a part might by a contrivance
be detached, when out at sea, so as to plunge her unawares into the
water. &quot;Nothing,&quot; he said, &quot;allowed of accidents so much as the sea,
and should she be overtaken by shipwreck, who would be so unfair as
to impute to crime an offence committed by the winds and waves? The
emperor would add the honour of a temple and of shrines to the deceased
lady, with every other display of filial affection.&quot; 

Nero liked the device, favoured as it also was by the particular time,
for he was celebrating Minerva&apos;s five days&apos; festival at Baiae. Thither
he enticed his mother by repeated assurances that children ought to
bear with the irritability of parents and to soothe their tempers,
wishing thus to spread a rumour of reconciliation and to secure Agrippina&apos;s
acceptance through the feminine credulity, which easily believes what
joy. As she approached, he went to the shore to meet her (she was
coming from Antium), welcomed her with outstretched hand and embrace,
and conducted her to Bauli. This was the name of a country house,
washed by a bay of the sea, between the promontory of Misenum and
the lake of Baiae. Here was a vessel distinguished from others by
its equipment, seemingly meant, among other things, to do honour to
his mother; for she had been accustomed to sail in a trireme, with
a crew of marines. And now she was invited to a banquet, that night
might serve to conceal the crime. It was well known that somebody
had been found to betray it, that Agrippina had heard of the plot,
and in doubt whether she was to believe it, was conveyed to Baiae
in her litter. There some soothing words allayed her fear; she was
graciously received, and seated at table above the emperor. Nero prolonged
the banquet with various conversation, passing from a youth&apos;s playful
familiarity to an air of constraint, which seemed to indicate serious
thought, and then, after protracted festivity, escorted her on her
departure, clinging with kisses to her eyes and bosom, either to crown
his hypocrisy or because the last sight of a mother on the even of
destruction caused a lingering even in that brutal heart.

A night of brilliant starlight with the calm of a tranquil sea was
granted by heaven, seemingly, to convict the crime. The vessel had
not gone far, Agrippina having with her two of her intimate attendants,
one of whom, Crepereius Gallus, stood near the helm, while Acerronia,
reclining at Agrippina&apos;s feet as she reposed herself, spoke joyfully
of her son&apos;s repentance and of the recovery of the mother&apos;s influence,
when at a given signal the ceiling of the place, which was loaded
with a quantity of lead, fell in, and Crepereius was crushed and instantly
killed. Agrippina and Acerronia were protected by the projecting sides
of the couch, which happened to be too strong to yield under the weight.
But this was not followed by the breaking up of the vessel; for all
were bewildered, and those too, who were in the plot, were hindered
by the unconscious majority. The crew then thought it best to throw
the vessel on one side and so sink it, but they could not themselves
promptly unite to face the emergency, and others, by counteracting
the attempt, gave an opportunity of a gentler fall into the sea. Acerronia,
however, thoughtlessly exclaiming that she was Agrippina, and imploring
help for the emperor&apos;s mother, was despatched with poles and oars,
and such naval implements as chance offered. Agrippina was silent
and was thus the less recognized; still, she received a wound in her
shoulder. She swam, then met with some small boats which conveyed
her to the Lucrine lake, and so entered her house. 

There she reflected how for this very purpose she had been invited
by a lying letter and treated with conspicuous honour, how also it
was near the shore, not from being driven by winds or dashed on rocks,
that the vessel had in its upper part collapsed, like a mechanism
anything but nautical. She pondered too the death of Acerronia; she
looked at her own wound, and saw that her only safeguard against treachery
was to ignore it. Then she sent her freedman Agerinus to tell her
son how by heaven&apos;s favour and his good fortune she had escaped a
terrible disaster; that she begged him, alarmed, as he might be, by
his mother&apos;s peril, to put off the duty of a visit, as for the present
she needed repose. Meanwhile, pretending that she felt secure, she
applied remedies to her wound, and fomentations to her person. She
then ordered search to be made for the will of Acerronia, and her
property to be sealed, in this alone throwing off disguise.

Nero, meantime, as he waited for tidings of the consummation of the
deed, received information that she had escaped with the injury of
a slight wound, after having so far encountered the peril that there
could be no question as to its author. Then, paralysed with terror
and protesting that she would show herself the next moment eager for
vengeance, either arming the slaves or stirring up the soldiery, or
hastening to the Senate and the people, to charge him with the wreck,
with her wound, and with the destruction of her friends, he asked
what resource he had against all this, unless something could be at
once devised by Burrus and Seneca. He had instantly summoned both
of them, and possibly they were already in the secret. There was a
long silence on their part; they feared they might remonstrate in
vain, or believed the crisis to be such that Nero must perish, unless
Agrippina were at once crushed. Thereupon Seneca was so far the more
prompt as to glance back on Burrus, as if to ask him whether the bloody
deed must be required of the soldiers. Burrus replied &quot;that the praetorians
were attached to the whole family of the Caesars, and remembering
Germanicus would not dare a savage deed on his offspring. It was for
Anicetus to accomplish his promise.&quot; 

Anicetus, without a pause, claimed for himself the consummation of
the crime. At those words, Nero declared that that day gave him empire,
and that a freedman was the author of this mighty boon. &quot;Go,&quot; he said,
&quot;with all speed and take with you the men readiest to execute your
orders.&quot; He himself, when he had heard of the arrival of Agrippina&apos;s
messenger, Agerinus, contrived a theatrical mode of accusation, and,
while the man was repeating his message, threw down a sword at his
feet, then ordered him to be put in irons, as a detected criminal,
so that he might invent a story how his mother had plotted the emperor&apos;s
destruction and in the shame of discovered guilt had by her own choice
sought death. 

Meantime, Agrippina&apos;s peril being universally known and taken to be
an accidental occurrence, everybody, the moment he heard of it, hurried
down to the beach. Some climbed projecting piers; some the nearest
vessels; others, as far as their stature allowed, went into the sea;
some, again, stood with outstretched arms, while the whole shore rung
with wailings, with prayers and cries, as different questions were
asked and uncertain answers given. A vast multitude streamed to the
spot with torches, and as soon as all knew that she was safe, they
at once prepared to wish her joy, till the sight of an armed and threatening
force scared them away. Anicetus then surrounded the house with a
guard, and having burst open the gates, dragged off the slaves who
met him, till he came to the door of her chamber, where a few still
stood, after the rest had fled in terror at the attack. A small lamp
was in the room, and one slave-girl with Agrippina, who grew more
and more anxious, as no messenger came from her son, not even Agerinus,
while the appearance of the shore was changed, a solitude one moment,
then sudden bustle and tokens of the worst catastrophe. As the girl
rose to depart, she exclaimed, &quot;Do you too forsake me?&quot; and looking
round saw Anicetus, who had with him the captain of the trireme, Herculeius,
and Obaritus, a centurion of marines. &quot;If,&quot; said she, &quot;you have come
to see me, take back word that I have recovered, but if you are here
to do a crime, I believe nothing about my son; he has not ordered
his mother&apos;s murder.&quot; 

The assassins closed in round her couch, and the captain of the trireme
first struck her head violently with a club. Then, as the centurion
bared his sword for the fatal deed, presenting her person, she exclaimed,
&quot;Smite my womb,&quot; and with many wounds she was slain. 

So far our accounts agree. That Nero gazed on his mother after her
death and praised her beauty, some have related, while others deny
it. Her body was burnt that same night on a dining couch, with a mean
funeral; nor, as long as Nero was in power, was the earth raised into
a mound, or even decently closed. Subsequently, she received from
the solicitude of her domestics, a humble sepulchre on the road to
Misenum, near the country house of Caesar the Dictator, which from
a great height commands a view of the bay beneath. As soon as the
funeral pile was lighted, one of her freedmen, surnamed Mnester, ran
himself through with a sword, either from love of his mistress or
from the fear of destruction. 

Many years before Agrippina had anticipated this end for herself and
had spurned the thought. For when she consulted the astrologers about
Nero, they replied that he would be emperor and kill his mother. &quot;Let
him kill her,&quot; she said, &quot;provided he is emperor.&quot; 

But the emperor, when the crime was at last accomplished, realised
its portentous guilt. The rest of the night, now silent and stupified,
now and still oftener starting up in terror, bereft of reason, he
awaited the dawn as if it would bring with it his doom. He was first
encouraged to hope by the flattery addressed to him, at the prompting
of Burrus, by the centurions and tribunes, who again and again pressed
his hand and congratulated him on his having escaped an unforeseen
danger and his mother&apos;s daring crime. Then his friends went to the
temples, and, an example having once been set, the neighbouring towns
of Campania testified their joy with sacrifices and deputations. He
himself, with an opposite phase of hypocrisy, seemed sad, and almost
angry at his own deliverance, and shed tears over his mother&apos;s death.
But as the aspects of places change not, as do the looks of men, and
as he had ever before his eyes the dreadful sight of that sea with
its shores (some too believed that the notes of a funereal trumpet
were heard from the surrounding heights, and wailings from the mother&apos;s
grave), he retired to Neapolis and sent a letter to the Senate, the
drift of which was that Agerinus, one of Agrippina&apos;s confidential
freedmen, had been detected with the dagger of an assassin, and that
in the consciousness of having planned the crime she had paid its
penalty. 

He even revived the charges of a period long past, how she had aimed
at a share of empire, and at inducing the praetorian cohorts to swear
obedience to a woman, to the disgrace of the Senate and people; how,
when she was disappointed, in her fury with the soldiers, the Senate,
and the populace, she opposed the usual donative and largess, and
organised perilous prosecutions against distinguished citizens. What
efforts had it cost him to hinder her from bursting into the Senate-house
and giving answers to foreign nations! He glanced too with indirect
censure at the days of Claudius, and ascribed all the abominations
of that reign to his mother, thus seeking to show that it was the
State&apos;s good fortune which had destroyed her. For he actually told
the story of the shipwreck; but who could be so stupid as to believe
that it was accidental, or that a shipwrecked woman had sent one man
with a weapon to break through an emperor&apos;s guards and fleets? So
now it was not Nero, whose brutality was far beyond any remonstrance,
but Seneca who was in ill repute, for having written a confession
in such a style. 

Still there was a marvellous rivalry among the nobles in decreeing
thanksgivings at all the shrines, and the celebration with annual
games of Minerva&apos;s festival, as the day on which the plot had been
discovered; also, that a golden image of Minerva with a statue of
the emperor by its side should be set up in the Senate-house, and
that Agrippina&apos;s birthday should be classed among the inauspicious
days. Thrasea Paetus, who had been used to pass over previous flatteries
in silence or with brief assent, then walked out of the Senate, thereby
imperilling himself, without communicating to the other senators any
impulse towards freedom. 

There occurred too a thick succession of portents, which meant nothing.
A woman gave birth to a snake, and another was killed by a thunderbolt
in her husband&apos;s embrace. Then the sun was suddenly darkened and the
fourteen districts of the city were struck by lightning. All this
happened quite without any providential design; so much so, that for
many subsequent years Nero prolonged his reign and his crimes. Still,
to deepen the popular hatred towards his mother, and prove that since
her removal, his clemency had increased, he restored to their ancestral
homes two distinguished ladies, Junia and Calpurnia, with two ex-praetors,
Valerius Capito and Licinius Gabolus, whom Agrippina had formerly
banished. He also allowed the ashes of Lollia Paulina to be brought
back and a tomb to be built over them. Iturius and Calvisius, whom
he had himself temporarily exiled, he now released from their penalty.
Silana indeed had died a natural death at Tarentum, whither she had
returned from her distant exile, when the power of Agrippina, to whose
enmity she owed her fall, began to totter, or her wrath was at last
appeased. 

While Nero was lingering in the towns of Campania, doubting how he
should enter Rome, whether he would find the Senate submissive and
the populace enthusiastic, all the vilest courtiers, and of these
never had a court a more abundant crop, argued against his hesitation
by assuring him that Agrippina&apos;s name was hated and that her death
had heightened his popularity. &quot;He might go without a fear,&quot; they
said, &quot;and experience in his person men&apos;s veneration for him.&quot; They
insisted at the same time on preceding him. They found greater enthusiasm
than they had promised, the tribes coming forth to meet him, the Senate
in holiday attire, troops of their children and wives arranged according
to sex and age, tiers of seats raised for the spectacle, where he
was to pass, as a triumph is witnessed. Thus elated and exulting over
his people&apos;s slavery, he proceeded to the Capitol, performed the thanksgiving,
and then plunged into all the excesses, which, though ill-restrained,
some sort of respect for his mother had for a while delayed.

He had long had a fancy for driving a four-horse chariot, and a no
less degrading taste for singing to the harp, in a theatrical fashion,
when he was at dinner. This he would remind people was a royal custom,
and had been the practice of ancient chiefs; it was celebrated too
in the praises of poets and was meant to show honour to the gods.
Songs indeed, he said, were sacred to Apollo, and it was in the dress
of a singer that that great and prophetic deity was seen in Roman
temples as well as in Greek cities. He could no longer be restrained,
when Seneca and Burrus thought it best to concede one point that he
might not persist in both. A space was enclosed in the Vatican valley
where he might manage his horses, without the spectacle being public.
Soon he actually invited all the people of Rome, who extolled him
in their praises, like a mob which craves for amusements and rejoices
when a prince draws them the same way. However, the public exposure
of his shame acted on him as an incentive instead of sickening him,
as men expected. Imagining that he mitigated the scandal by disgracing
many others, he brought on the stage descendants of noble families,
who sold themselves because they were paupers. As they have ended
their days, I think it due to their ancestors not to hand down their
names. And indeed the infamy is his who gave them wealth to reward
their degradation rather than to deter them from degrading themselves.
He prevailed too on some well-known Roman knights, by immense presents,
to offer their services in the amphitheatre; only pay from one who
is able to command, carries with it the force of compulsion.

Still, not yet wishing to disgrace himself on a public stage, he instituted
some games under the title of &quot;juvenile sports,&quot; for which people
of every class gave in their names. Neither rank nor age nor previous
high promotion hindered any one from practising the art of a Greek
or Latin actor and even stooping to gestures and songs unfit for a
man. Noble ladies too actually played disgusting parts, and in the
grove, with which Augustus had surrounded the lake for the naval fight,
there were erected places for meeting and refreshment, and every incentive
to excess was offered for sale. Money too was distributed, which the
respectable had to spend under sheer compulsion and which the profligate
gloried in squandering. Hence a rank growth of abominations and of
all infamy. Never did a more filthy rabble add a worse licentiousness
to our long corrupted morals. Even, with virtuous training, purity
is not easily upheld; far less amid rivalries in vice could modesty
or propriety or any trace of good manners be preserved. Last of all,
the emperor himself came on the stage, tuning his lute with elaborate
care and trying his voice with his attendants. There were also present,
to complete the show, a guard of soldiers with centurions and tribunes,
and Burrus, who grieved and yet applauded. Then it was that Roman
knights were first enrolled under the title of Augustani, men in their
prime and remarkable for their strength, some, from a natural frivolity,
others from the hope of promotion. Day and night they kept up a thunder
of applause, and applied to the emperor&apos;s person and voice the epithets
of deities. Thus they lived in fame and honour, as if on the strength
of their merits. 

Nero however, that he might not be known only for his accomplishments
as an actor, also affected a taste for poetry, and drew round him
persons who had some skill in such compositions, but not yet generally
recognised. They used to sit with him, stringing together verses prepared
at home, or extemporised on the spot, and fill up his own expressions,
such as they were, just as he threw them off. This is plainly shown
by the very character of the poems, which have no vigour or inspiration,
or unity in their flow. 

He would also bestow some leisure after his banquets on the teachers
of philosophy, for he enjoyed the wrangles of opposing dogmatists.
And some there were who liked to exhibit their gloomy faces and looks,
as one of the amusements of the court. 

About the same time a trifling beginning led to frightful bloodshed
between the inhabitants of Nuceria and Pompeii, at a gladiatorial
show exhibited by Livineius Regulus, who had been, as I have related,
expelled from the Senate. With the unruly spirit of townsfolk, they
began with abusive language of each other; then they took up stones
and at last weapons, the advantage resting with the populace of Pompeii,
where the show was being exhibited. And so there were brought to Rome
a number of the people of Nuceria, with their bodies mutilated by
wounds, and many lamented the deaths of children or of parents. The
emperor entrusted the trial of the case to the Senate, and the Senate
to the consuls, and then again the matter being referred back to the
Senators, the inhabitants of Pompeii were forbidden to have any such
public gathering for ten years, and all associations they had formed
in defiance of the laws were dissolved. Livineius and the others who
had excited the disturbance, were punished with exile. 

Pedius Blaesus was also expelled from the Senate on the accusation
of the people of Cyrene, that he had violated the treasury of Aesculapius
and had tampered with a military levy by bribery and corruption. This
same people prosecuted Acilius Strabo who had held the office of praetor,
and had been sent by Claudius to adjudicate on some lands which were
bequeathed by king Apion, their former possessor, together with his
kingdom to the Roman people, and which had since been seized by the
neighbouring proprietors, who trusted to a long continued licence
in wrong, as if it constituted right and justice. Consequently, when
the adjudication was against them, there arose a bitter feeling towards
the judge, but the Senate replied that they knew nothing of the instructions
given by Claudius, and that the emperor must be consulted. Nero, though
he approved Strabo&apos;s decision, wrote word that nevertheless he was
for relieving the allies, and that he waived all claim to what had
been taken into possession. 

Then followed the deaths of two illustrious men, Domitius Afer and
Marcus Servilius, who had flourished through a career of the highest
honours and great eloquence. The first was a pleader; Servilius, after
long practice in the courts, distinguished himself by his history
of Rome and by the refinement of his life, which the contrast of his
character to that of Afer, whom he equalled in genius, rendered the
more conspicuous. 

In Nero&apos;s fourth consulship with Cornelius Cossus for his colleague,
a theatrical entertainment to be repeated every five years was established
at Rome in imitation of the Greek festival. Like all novelties, it
was variously canvassed. There were some who declared that even Cnius
Pompeius was censured by the older men of the day for having set up
a fixed and permanent theatre. &quot;Formerly,&quot; they said, &quot;the games were
usually exhibited with hastily erected tiers of benches and a temporary
stage, and the people stood to witness them, that they might not,
by having the chance of sitting down, spend a succession of entire
days in idleness. Let the ancient character of these shows be retained,
whenever the praetors exhibited them, and let no citizen be under
the necessity of competing. As it was, the morality of their fathers,
which had by degrees been forgotten, was utterly subverted by the
introduction of a lax tone, so that all which could suffer or produce
corruption was to be seen at Rome, and a degeneracy bred by foreign
tastes was infecting the youth who devoted themselves to athletic
sports, to idle loungings and low intrigues, with the encouragement
of the emperor and Senate, who not only granted licence to vice, but
even applied a compulsion to drive Roman nobles into disgracing themselves
on the stage, under the pretence of being orators and poets. What
remained for them but to strip themselves naked, put on the boxing-glove,
and practise such battles instead of the arms of legitimate warfare?
Would justice be promoted, or would they serve on the knights&apos; commissions
for the honourable office of a judge, because they had listened with
critical sagacity to effeminate strains of music and sweet voices?
Night too was given up to infamy, so that virtue had not a moment
left to her, but all the vilest of that promiscuous throng dared to
do in the darkness anything they had lusted for in the day.&quot;

Many people liked this very licence, but they screened it under respectable
names. &quot;Our ancestors,&quot; they said, &quot;were not averse to the attractions
of shows on a scale suited to the wealth of their day, and so they
introduced actors from the Etruscans and horse-races from Thurii.
When we had possessed ourselves of Achaia and Asia, games were exhibited
with greater elaboration, and yet no one at Rome of good family had
stooped to the theatrical profession during the 200 years following
the triumph of Lucius Mummius, who first displayed this kind of show
in the capital. Besides, even economy had been consulted, when a permanent
edifice was erected for a theatre, in preference to a structure raised
and fitted up yearly at vast expense. Nor would the magistrates, as
hitherto, exhaust their substance, or would the populace have the
same motive for demanding of them the Greek contests, when once the
State undertakes the expenditure. The victories won by orators and
poets would furnish a stimulus to genius, and it could not be a burden
for any judge to bestow his attention on graceful pursuits or on legitimate
recreations. It was to mirth rather than to profligacy that a few
nights every five years were devoted, and in these amid such a blaze
of illumination no lawless conduct could be concealed.&quot; 

This entertainment, it is true, passed off without any notorious scandal.
The enthusiasm too of the populace was not even slightly kindled,
for the pantomimic actors, though permitted to return to the stage,
were excluded from the sacred contests. No one gained the first prize
for eloquence, but it was publicly announced that the emperor was
victorious. Greek dresses, in which most people showed themselves
during this festival, had then gone out of fashion. 

A comet meantime blazed in the sky, which in popular opinion always
portends revolution to kingdoms. So people began to ask, as if Nero
was already dethroned, who was to be elected. In every one&apos;s mouth
was the name of Rubellius Blandus, who inherited through his mother
the high nobility of the Julian family. He was himself attached to
the ideas of our ancestors; his manners were austere, his home was
one of purity and seclusion, and the more he lived in retirement from
fear, the more fame did he acquire. Popular talk was confirmed by
an interpretation put with similar credulity on a flash of lightning.
While Nero was reclining at dinner in his house named Sublaqueum on
the Simbruine lake, the table with the banquet was struck and shattered,
and as this happened close to Tibur, from which town Plautus derived
his origin on his father&apos;s side, people believed him to be the man
marked out by divine providence; and he was encouraged by that numerous
class, whose eager and often mistaken ambition it is to attach themselves
prematurely to some new and hazardous cause. This alarmed Nero, and
he wrote a letter to Plautus, bidding &quot;him consider the tranquillity
of Rome and withdraw himself from mischievous gossip. He had ancestral
possessions in Asia, where he might enjoy his youth safely and quietly.&quot;
And so thither Plautus retired with his wife Antistia and a few intimate
friends. 

About the same time an excessive love of luxurious gratification involved
Nero in disgrace and danger. He had plunged for a swim into the source
of the stream which Quintus Marcius conveyed to Rome, and it was thought
that, by thus immersing his person in it, he had polluted the sacred
waters and the sanctity of the spot. A fit of illness which followed,
convinced people of the divine displeasure. 

Corbulo meanwhile having demolished Artaxata thought that he ought
to avail himself of the recent panic by possessing himself of Tigranocerta,
and either, by destroying it, increase the enemy&apos;s terror, or, by
sparing it, win a name for mercy. Thither he marched his army, with
no hostile demonstrations, lest might cut off all hope of quarter,
but still without relaxing his vigilance, knowing, as he did, the
fickle temper of the people, who are as treacherous, when they have
an opportunity, as they are slow to meet danger. The barbarians, following
their individual inclinations, either came to him with entreaties,
or quitted their villages and dispersed into their deserts. Some there
were who hid themselves in caverns with all that they held dearest.
The Roman general accordingly dealt variously with them; he was merciful
to suppliants, swift in pursuit of fugitives, pitiless towards those
who had crept into hiding-places, burning them out after filling up
the entrances and exits with brushwood and bushes. As he was on his
march along the frontier of the Mardi, he was incessantly attacked
by that tribe which is trained to guerilla warfare, and defended by
mountains against an invader. Corbulo threw the Iberians on them,
ravaged their country and punished the enemy&apos;s daring at the cost
of the blood of the foreigner. 

Both Corbulo and his army, though suffering no losses in battle, were
becoming exhausted by short supplies and hardships, compelled as they
were to stave off hunger solely by the flesh of cattle. Added to this
was scarcity of water, a burning summer and long marches, all of which
were alleviated only by the general&apos;s patient endurance. He bore indeed
the same or even more burdens than the common soldier. Subsequently,
they reached lands under cultivation, and reaped the crops, and of
two fortresses in which the Armenians had fled for refuge, one was
taken by storm; the other, which repulsed the first attack, was reduced
by blockade. Thence the general crossed into the country of the Tauraunites,
where he escaped an unforeseen peril. Near his tent, a barbarian of
no mean rank was discovered with a dagger, who divulged under torture
the whole method of the plot, its contrivance by himself, and his
associates. The men who under a show of friendship planned the treachery,
were convicted and punished. 

Soon afterwards, Corbulo&apos;s envoys whom he had sent to Tigranocerta,
reported that the city walls were open, and the inhabitants awaiting
orders. They also handed him a gift denoting friendship, a golden
crown, which he acknowledged in complimentary language. Nothing was
done to humiliate the city, that remaining uninjured it might continue
to yield a more cheerful obedience. 

The citadel, however, which had been closed by an intrepid band of
youths, was not stormed without a struggle. They even ventured on
an engagement under the walls, but were driven back within their fortifications
and succumbed at last only to our siege-works and to the swords of
furious assailants. The success was the easier, as the Parthians were
distracted by a war with the Hyrcanians, who had sent to the Roman
emperor, imploring alliance, and pointing to the fact that they were
detaining Vologeses as a pledge of amity. When these envoys were on
their way home, Corbulo, to save them from being intercepted by the
enemy&apos;s picquets after their passage of the Euphrates, gave them an
escort, and conducted them to the shores of the Red Sea, whence, avoiding
Parthian territory, they returned to their native possessions.

Corbulo too, as Tiridates was entering the Armenian frontier through
Media, sent on Verulanus, his lieutenant-general with the auxiliaries,
while he himself followed with the legions by forced marches, and
compelled him to retreat to a distance and abandon the idea of war.
Having harried with fire and sword all whom he had ascertained to
be against us, he began to take possession of Armenia, when Tigranes
arrived, whom Nero had selected to assume the sovereignty. Though
a Cappadocian noble and grandson of king Archelaus, yet, from having
long been a hostage at Rome, he had sunk into servile submissiveness.
Nor was he unanimously welcomed, as some still cherished a liking
for the Arsacids. Most, however, in their hatred of Parthian arrogance
preferred a king given them by Rome. He was supported too with a force
of a thousand legionaries, three allied cohorts and two squadrons
of cavalry, that he might the more easily secure his new kingdom.
Parts of Armenia, according to their respective proximities, were
put under the subjection of Pharasmanes, Polemo, Aristobulus, and
Antiochus. Corbulo retired into Syria, which province, as being vacant
by the death of its governor Ummidius, was intrusted to him.

One of the famous cities of Asia, Laodicea, was that same year overthrown
by an earthquake, and, without any relief from us, recovered itself
by its own resources. In Italy meanwhile the old town of Puteoli obtained
from Nero the privileges of a colony with an additional name. A further
enrolment of veterans in Tarentum and Antium did but little for those
thinly peopled places; for most scattered themselves in the provinces
where they had completed their military service. Not being accustomed
to tie themselves by marriage and rear children, they left behind
them homes without families. For whole legions were no longer transplanted,
as in former days, with tribunes and centurions and soldiers of every
grade, so as to form a state by their unity and mutual attachment,
but strangers to one another from different companies, without a head
or any community of sentiment, were suddenly gathered together, as
it might be out of any other class of human beings, and became a mere
crowd rather than a colony. 

As at the elections for praetors, now generally under the Senate&apos;s
control there was the excitement of a particularly keen competition,
the emperor quieted matters by promoting the three supernumerary candidates
to legionary commands. He also raised the dignity of the Senate, by
deciding that all who appealed from private judges to its house, were
to incur the same pecuniary risk as those who referred their cause
to the emperor. Hitherto such an appeal had been perfectly open, and
free from penalty. 

At the close of the year Vibius Secundus, a Roman knight, on the accusation
of the Moors, was convicted of extortion, and banished from Italy,
contriving through the influence of his brother Vibius Crispus to
escape heavier punishment. 

In the consulship of Caesonius Paetus and Petronius Turpilianus, a
serious disaster was sustained in Britain, where Aulius Didius, the
emperor&apos;s legate, had merely retained our existing possessions, and
his successor Veranius, after having ravaged the Silures in some trifling
raids, was prevented by death from extending the war. While he lived,
he had a great name for manly independence, though, in his will&apos;s
final words, he betrayed a flatterer&apos;s weakness; for, after heaping
adulation on Nero, he added that he should have conquered the province
for him, had he lived for the next two years. Now, however, Britain
was in the hands of Suetonius Paulinus, who in military knowledge
and in popular favour, which allows no one to be without a rival,
vied with Corbulo, and aspired to equal the glory of the recovery
of Armenia by the subjugation of Rome&apos;s enemies. He therefore prepared
to attack the island of Mona which had a powerful population and was
a refuge for fugitives. He built flat-bottomed vessels to cope with
the shallows, and uncertain depths of the sea. Thus the infantry crossed,
while the cavalry followed by fording, or, where the water was deep,
swam by the side of their horses. 

On the shore stood the opposing army with its dense array of armed
warriors, while between the ranks dashed women, in black attire like
the Furies, with hair dishevelled, waving brands. All around, the
Druids, lifting up their hands to heaven, and pouring forth dreadful
imprecations, scared our soldiers by the unfamiliar sight, so that,
as if their limbs were paralysed, they stood motionless, and exposed
to wounds. Then urged by their general&apos;s appeals and mutual encouragements
not to quail before a troop of frenzied women, they bore the standards
onwards, smote down all resistance, and wrapped the foe in the flames
of his own brands. A force was next set over the conquered, and their
groves, devoted to inhuman superstitions, were destroyed. They deemed
it indeed a duty to cover their altars with the blood of captives
and to consult their deities through human entrails. 

Suetonius while thus occupied received tidings of the sudden revolt
of the province. Prasutagus, king of the Iceni, famed for his long
prosperity, had made the emperor his heir along with his two daughters,
under the impression that this token of submission would put his kingdom
and his house out of the reach of wrong. But the reverse was the result,
so much so that his kingdom was plundered by centurions, his house
by slaves, as if they were the spoils of war. First, his wife Boudicea
was scourged, and his daughters outraged. All the chief men of the
Iceni, as if Rome had received the whole country as a gift, were stript
of their ancestral possessions, and the king&apos;s relatives were made
slaves. Roused by these insults and the dread of worse, reduced as
they now were into the condition of a province, they flew to arms
and stirred to revolt the Trinobantes and others who, not yet cowed
by slavery, had agreed in secret conspiracy to reclaim their freedom.
It was against the veterans that their hatred was most intense. For
these new settlers in the colony of Camulodunum drove people out of
their houses, ejected them from their farms, called them captives
and slaves, and the lawlessness of the veterans was encouraged by
the soldiers, who lived a similar life and hoped for similar licence.
A temple also erected to the Divine Claudius was ever before their
eyes, a citadel, as it seemed, of perpetual tyranny. Men chosen as
priests had to squander their whole fortunes under the pretence of
a religious ceremonial. It appeared too no difficult matter to destroy
the colony, undefended as it was by fortifications, a precaution neglected
by our generals, while they thought more of what was agreeable than
of what was expedient. 

Meanwhile, without any evident cause, the statue of Victory at Camulodunum
fell prostrate and turned its back to the enemy, as though it fled
before them. Women excited to frenzy prophesied impending destruction;
ravings in a strange tongue, it was said, were heard in their Senate-house;
their theatre resounded with wailings, and in the estuary of the Tamesa
had been seen the appearance of an overthrown town; even the ocean
had worn the aspect of blood, and, when the tide ebbed, there had
been left the likenesses of human forms, marvels interpreted by the
Britons, as hopeful, by the veterans, as alarming. But as Suetonius
was far away, they implored aid from the procurator, Catus Decianus.
All he did was to send two hundred men, and no more, without regular
arms, and there was in the place but a small military force. Trusting
to the protection of the temple, hindered too by secret accomplices
in the revolt, who embarrassed their plans, they had constructed neither
fosse nor rampart; nor had they removed their old men and women, leaving
their youth alone to face the foe. Surprised, as it were, in the midst
of peace, they were surrounded by an immense host of the barbarians.
All else was plundered or fired in the onslaught; the temple where
the soldiers had assembled, was stormed after a two days&apos; siege. The
victorious enemy met Petilius Cerialis, commander of the ninth legion,
as he was coming to the rescue, routed his troops, and destroyed all
his infantry. Cerialis escaped with some cavalry into the camp, and
was saved by its fortifications. Alarmed by this disaster and by the
fury of the province which he had goaded into war by his rapacity,
the procurator Catus crossed over into Gaul. 

Suetonius, however, with wonderful resolution, marched amidst a hostile
population to Londinium, which, though undistinguished by the name
of a colony, was much frequented by a number of merchants and trading
vessels. Uncertain whether he should choose it as a seat of war, as
he looked round on his scanty force of soldiers, and remembered with
what a serious warning the rashness of Petilius had been punished,
he resolved to save the province at the cost of a single town. Nor
did the tears and weeping of the people, as they implored his aid,
deter him from giving the signal of departure and receiving into his
army all who would go with him. Those who were chained to the spot
by the weakness of their sex, or the infirmity of age, or the attractions
of the place, were cut off by the enemy. Like ruin fell on the town
of Verulamium, for the barbarians, who delighted in plunder and were
indifferent to all else, passed by the fortresses with military garrisons,
and attacked whatever offered most wealth to the spoiler, and was
unsafe for defence. About seventy thousand citizens and allies, it
appeared, fell in the places which I have mentioned. For it was not
on making prisoners and selling them, or on any of the barter of war,
that the enemy was bent, but on slaughter, on the gibbet, the fire
and the cross, like men soon about to pay the penalty, and meanwhile
snatching at instant vengeance. 

Suetonius had the fourteenth legion with the veterans of the twentieth,
and auxiliaries from the neighbourhood, to the number of about ten
thousand armed men, when he prepared to break off delay and fight
a battle. He chose a position approached by a narrow defile, closed
in at the rear by a forest, having first ascertained that there was
not a soldier of the enemy except in his front, where an open plain
extended without any danger from ambuscades. His legions were in close
array; round them, the light-armed troops, and the cavalry in dense
array on the wings. On the other side, the army of the Britons, with
its masses of infantry and cavalry, was confidently exulting, a vaster
host than ever had assembled, and so fierce in spirit that they actually
brought with them, to witness the victory, their wives riding in waggons,
which they had placed on the extreme border of the plain.

Boudicea, with her daughters before her in a chariot, went up to tribe
after tribe, protesting that it was indeed usual for Britons to fight
under the leadership of women. &quot;But now,&quot; she said, &quot;it is not as
a woman descended from noble ancestry, but as one of the people that
I am avenging lost freedom, my scourged body, the outraged chastity
of my daughters. Roman lust has gone so far that not our very persons,
nor even age or virginity, are left unpolluted. But heaven is on the
side of a righteous vengeance; a legion which dared to fight has perished;
the rest are hiding themselves in their camp, or are thinking anxiously
of flight. They will not sustain even the din and the shout of so
many thousands, much less our charge and our blows. If you weigh well
the strength of the armies, and the causes of the war, you will see
that in this battle you must conquer or die. This is a woman&apos;s resolve;
as for men, they may live and be slaves.&quot; 

Nor was Suetonius silent at such a crisis. Though he confided in the
valour of his men, he yet mingled encouragements and entreaties to
disdain the clamours and empty threats of the barbarians. &quot;There,&quot;
he said, &quot;you see more women than warriors. Unwarlike, unarmed, they
will give way the moment they have recognised that sword and that
courage of their conquerors, which have so often routed them. Even
among many legions, it is a few who really decide the battle, and
it will enhance their glory that a small force should earn the renown
of an entire army. Only close up the ranks, and having discharged
your javelins, then with shields and swords continue the work of bloodshed
and destruction, without a thought of plunder. When once the victory
has been won, everything will be in your power.&quot; 

Such was the enthusiasm which followed the general&apos;s address, and
so promptly did the veteran soldiery, with their long experience of
battles, prepare for the hurling of the javelins, that it was with
confidence in the result that Suetonius gave the signal of battle.

At first, the legion kept its position, clinging to the narrow defile
as a defence; when they had exhausted their missiles, which they discharged
with unerring aim on the closely approaching foe, they rushed out
in a wedge-like column. Similar was the onset of the auxiliaries,
while the cavalry with extended lances broke through all who offered
a strong resistance. The rest turned their back in flight, and flight
proved difficult, because the surrounding waggons had blocked retreat.
Our soldiers spared not to slay even the women, while the very beasts
of burden, transfixed by the missiles, swelled the piles of bodies.
Great glory, equal to that of our old victories, was won on that day.
Some indeed say that there fell little less than eighty thousand of
the Britons, with a loss to our soldiers of about four hundred, and
only as many wounded. Boudicea put an end to her life by poison. Poenius
Postumus too, camp-prefect of the second legion, when he knew of the
success of the men of the fourteenth and twentieth, feeling that he
had cheated his legion out of like glory, and had contrary to all
military usage disregarded the general&apos;s orders, threw himself on
his sword. 

The whole army was then brought together and kept under canvas to
finish the remainder of the war. The emperor strengthened the forces
by sending from Germany two thousand legionaries, eight cohorts of
auxiliaries, and a thousand cavalry. On their arrival the men of the
ninth had their number made up with legionary soldiers. The allied
infantry and cavalry were placed in new winter quarters, and whatever
tribes still wavered or were hostile were ravaged with fire and sword.
Nothing however distressed the enemy so much as famine, for they had
been careless about sowing corn, people of every age having gone to
the war, while they reckoned on our supplies as their own. Nations,
too, so high-spirited inclined the more slowly to peace, because Julius
Classicanus, who had been sent as successor to Catus and was at variance
with Suetonius, let private animosities interfere with the public
interest, and had spread an idea that they ought to wait for a new
governor who, having neither the anger of an enemy nor the pride of
a conqueror, would deal mercifully with those who had surrendered.
At the same time he stated in a despatch to Rome that no cessation
of fighting must be expected, unless Suetonius were superseded, attributing
that general&apos;s disasters to perverseness and his successes to good
luck. 

Accordingly one of the imperial freedmen, Polyclitus, was sent to
survey the state of Britain, Nero having great hopes that his influence
would be able not only to establish a good understanding between the
governor and the pro-curator, but also to pacify the rebellious spirit
of the barbarians. And Polyclitus, who with his enormous suite had
been a burden to Italy and Gaul, failed not, as soon as he had crossed
the ocean, to make his progresses a terror even to our soldiers. But
to the enemy he was a laughing-stock, for they still retained some
of the fire of liberty, knowing nothing yet of the power of freedmen,
and so they marvelled to see a general and an army who had finished
such a war cringing to slaves. Everything, however, was softened down
for the emperor&apos;s ears, and Suetonius was retained in the government;
but as he subsequently lost a few vessels on the shore with the crews,
he was ordered, as though the war continued, to hand over his army
to Petronius Turpilianus, who had just resigned his consulship. Petronius
neither challenged the enemy nor was himself molested, and veiled
this tame inaction under the honourable name of peace. 

That same year two remarkable crimes were committed at Rome, one by
a senator, the other by the daring of a slave. Domitius Balbus, an
ex-praetor, from his prolonged old age, his childlessness and his
wealth, was exposed to many a plot. His kinsman, Valerius Fabianus,
who was marked out for a career of promotion, forged a will in his
name with Vinicius Rufinus and Terentius Lentinus, Roman knights,
for his accomplices. These men had associated with them Antonius Primus
and Asinius Marcellus. Antonius was a man of ready audacity; Marcellus
had the glory of being the great-grandson of Asinius Pollio, and bore
a character far from contemptible, except that he thought poverty
the greatest of all evils. So Fabianus, with the persons whom I have
named and some others less distinguished, executed the will. The crime
was proved against them before the Senate, and Fabianus and Antonius
with Rufinus and Terentius were condemned under the Cornelian law.
Marcellus was saved from punishment rather than from disgrace by the
memory of his ancestors and the intercessions of the emperor.

That same day was fatal also to Pompeius Aelianus, a young ex-quaestor,
suspected of complicity in the villanies of Fabianus. He was outlawed
from Italy, and from Spain, where he was born. Valerius Pontius suffered
the same degradation for having indicted the defendants before the
praetor to save them from being prosecuted in the court of the city-prefect,
purposing meanwhile to defeat justice on some legal pretext and subsequently
by collusion. A clause was added to the Senate&apos;s decree, that whoever
bought or sold such a service was to be just as liable to punishment
as if he had been publicly convicted of false accusation.

Soon afterwards one of his own slaves murdered the city-prefect, Pedanius
Secundus, either because he had been refused his freedom, for which
he had made a bargain, or in the jealousy of a love in which he could
not brook his master&apos;s rivalry. Ancient custom required that the whole
slave-establishment which had dwelt under the same roof should be
dragged to execution, when a sudden gathering of the populace, which
was for saving so many innocent lives, brought matters to actual insurrection.
Even in the Senate there was a strong feeling on the part of those
who shrank from extreme rigour, though the majority were opposed to
any innovation. Of these, Caius Cassius, in giving his vote, argued
to the following effect:- 

&quot;Often have I been present, Senators, in this assembly when new decrees
were demanded from us contrary to the customs and laws of our ancestors,
and I have refrained from opposition, not because I doubted but that
in all matters the arrangements of the past were better and fairer
and that all changes were for the worse, but that I might not seem
to be exalting my own profession out of an excessive partiality for
ancient precedent. At the same time I thought that any influence I
possess ought not to be destroyed by incessant protests, wishing that
it might remain unimpaired, should the State ever need my counsels.
To-day this has come to pass, since an ex-consul has been murdered
in his house by the treachery of slaves, which not one hindered or
divulged, though the Senate&apos;s decree, which threatens the entire slave-establishment
with execution, has been till now unshaken. Vote impunity, in heaven&apos;s
name, and then who will be protected by his rank, when the prefecture
of the capital has been of no avail to its holder? Who will be kept
safe by the number of his slaves when four hundred have not protected
Pedanius Secundus? Which of us will be rescued by his domestics, who,
even with the dread of punishment before them, regard not our dangers?
Was the murderer, as some do not blush to pretend, avenging his wrongs
because he had bargained about money from his father or because a
family-slave was taken from him? Let us actually decide that the master
was justly slain. 

&quot;Is it your pleasure to search for arguments in a matter already weighed
in the deliberations of wiser men than ourselves? Even if we had now
for the first time to come to a decision, do you believe that a slave
took courage to murder his master without letting fall a threatening
word or uttering a rash syllable? Granted that he concealed his purpose,
that he procured his weapon without his fellows&apos; knowledge. Could
he pass the night-guard, could he open the doors of the chamber, carry
in a light, and accomplish the murder, while all were in ignorance?
There are many preliminaries to guilt; if these are divulged by slaves,
we may live singly amid numbers, safe among a trembling throng; lastly,
if we must perish, it will be with vengeance on the guilty. Our ancestors
always suspected the temper of their slaves, even when they were born
on the same estates, or in the same houses with themselves and thus
inherited from their birth an affection for their masters. But now
that we have in our households nations with different customs to our
own, with a foreign worship or none at all, it is only by terror you
can hold in such a motley rabble. But, it will be said, the innocent
will perish. Well, even in a beaten army when every tenth man is felled
by the club, the lot falls also on the brave. There is some injustice
in every great precedent, which, though injurious to individuals,
has its compensation in the public advantage.&quot; 

No one indeed dared singly to oppose the opinion of Cassius, but clamorous
voices rose in reply from all who pitied the number, age, or sex,
as well as the undoubted innocence of the great majority. Still, the
party which voted for their execution prevailed. But the sentence
could not be obeyed in the face of a dense and threatening mob, with
stones and firebrands. Then the emperor reprimanded the people by
edict, and lined with a force of soldiers the entire route by which
the condemned had to be dragged to execution. Cingonius Varro had
proposed that even all the freedmen under the same roof should be
transported from Italy. This the emperor forbade, as he did not wish
an ancient custom, which mercy had not relaxed, to be strained with
cruel rigour. 

During the same consulship, Tarquitius Priscus was convicted of extortion
on the prosecution of the Bithynians, to the great joy of the senators,
who remembered that he had impeached Statilius, his own pro-consul.
An assessment was made of Gaul by Quintus Volusius, Sextius Africanus,
and Trebellius Maximus. There was a rivalry, on the score of rank,
between Volusius and Africanus. While they both disdained Trebellius,
they raised him above themselves. 

In that year died Memmius Regulus, who from his solid worth and consistency
was as distinguished as it is possible to be under the shadow of an
emperor&apos;s grandeur, so much so, in fact, that Nero when he was ill,
with flatterers round him, who said that if aught befell him in the
course of destiny, there must be an end of the empire, replied that
the State had a resource, and on their asking where it was specially
to be found, he added, &quot;in Memmius Regulus.&quot; Yet Regulus lived after
this, protected by his retiring habits, and by the fact that he was
a man of newly-risen family and of wealth which did not provoke envy.
Nero, the same year, established a gymnasium, where oil was furnished
to knights and senators after the lax fashion of the Greeks.

In the consulship of Publius Marius and Lucius Asinius, Antistius,
the praetor, whose lawless behaviour as tribune of the people I have
mentioned, composed some libellous verses on the emperor, which he
openly recited at a large gathering, when he was dining at the house
of Ostorius Scapula. He was upon this impeached of high treason by
Cossutianus Capito, who had lately been restored to a senator&apos;s rank
on the intercession of his father-in-law, Tigellinus. This was the
first occasion on which the law of treason was revived, and men thought
that it was not so much the ruin of Antistius which was aimed at,
as the glory of the emperor, whose veto as tribune might save from
death one whom the Senate had condemned. Though Ostorius had stated
that he had heard nothing as evidence, the adverse witnesses were
believed, and Junius Marullus, consul-elect, proposed that the accused
should be deprived of his praetorship, and be put to death in the
ancient manner. The rest assented, and then Paetus Thrasea, after
much eulogy of Caesar, and most bitter censure of Antistius, argued
that it was not what a guilty prisoner might deserve to suffer, which
ought to be decreed against him, under so excellent a prince, and
by a Senate bound by no compulsion. &quot;The executioner and the halter,&quot;
he said, &quot;we have long ago abolished; still, there are punishments
ordained by the laws, which prescribe penalties, without judicial
cruelty and disgrace to our age. Rather send him to some island, after
confiscating his property; there, the longer he drags on his guilty
life, the more wretched will he be personally, and the more conspicuous
as an example of public clemency.&quot; 

Thrasea&apos;s freespokenness broke through the servility of the other
senators. As soon as the consul allowed a division, they voted with
him, with but few exceptions. Among these, the most enthusiastic in
his flattery was Aulus Vitellius, who attacked all the best men with
abuse, and was silent when they replied, the usual way of a cowardly
temper. The consuls, however, did not dare to ratify the Senate&apos;s
vote, and simply communicated their unanimous resolution to the emperor.
Hesitating for a while between shame and rage, he at last wrote to
them in reply &quot;that Antistius, without having been provoked by any
wrong, had uttered outrageous insults against the sovereign; that
a demand for punishment had been submitted to the Senate, and that
it was right that a penalty should be decreed proportioned to the
offence; that for himself, inasmuch as he would have opposed severity
in the sentence, he would not be an obstacle to leniency. They might
determine as they pleased, and they had free liberty to acquit.&quot;

This and more to the same effect having been read out, clearly showing
his displeasure, the consuls did not for that reason alter the terms
of the motion, nor did Thrasea withdraw his proposal, or the Senate
reject what it had once approved. Some were afraid of seeming to expose
the emperor to odium; the majority felt safe in numbers, while Thrasea
was supported by his usual firmness of spirit, and a determination
not to let his fame perish. 

A similar accusation caused the downfall of Fabricius Veiento. He
had composed many libels on senators and pontiffs in a work to which
he gave the title of &quot;Codicils.&quot; Talius Geminus, the prosecutor, further
stated that he had habitually trafficked in the emperor&apos;s favours
and in the right of promotion. This was Nero&apos;s reason for himself
undertaking the trial, and having convicted Veiento, he banished him
from Italy, and ordered the burning of his books, which, while it
was dangerous to procure them, were anxiously sought and much read.
Soon full freedom for their possession caused their oblivion.

But while the miseries of the State were daily growing worse, its
supports were becoming weaker. Burrus died, whether from illness or
from poison was a question. It was supposed to be illness from the
fact that from the gradual swelling of his throat inwardly and the
closing up of the passage he ceased to breathe. Many positively asserted
that by Nero&apos;s order his throat was smeared with some poisonous drug
under the pretence of the application of a remedy, and that Burrus,
who saw through the crime, when the emperor paid him a visit, recoiled
with horror from his gaze, and merely replied to his question, &quot;I
indeed am well.&quot; Rome felt for him a deep and lasting regret, because
of the remembrance of his worth, because too of the merely passive
virtue of one of his successors and the very flagrant iniquities of
the other. For the emperor had appointed two men to the command of
the praetorian cohorts, Faenius Rufus, for a vulgar popularity, which
he owed to his administration of the corn-supplies without profit
to himself; and Sofonius Tigellinus, whose inveterate shamelessness
and infamy were an attraction to him. As might have been expected
from their known characters, Tigellinus had the greater influence
with the prince, and was the associate of his most secret profligacy,
while Rufus enjoyed the favour of the people and of the soldiers,
and this, he found, prejudiced him with Nero. 

The death of Burrus was a blow to Seneca&apos;s power, for virtue had not
the same strength when one of its companions, so to say, was removed,
and Nero too began to lean on worse advisers. They assailed Seneca
with various charges, representing that he continued to increase a
wealth which was already so vast as to be beyond the scale of a subject,
and was drawing to himself the attachment of the citizens, while in
the picturesqueness of his gardens and the magnificence of his country
houses he almost surpassed the emperor. They further alleged against
him that he claimed for himself alone the honours of eloquence, and
composed poetry more assiduously, as soon as a passion for it had
seized on Nero. &quot;Openly inimical to the prince&apos;s amusements, he disparaged
his ability in driving horses, and ridiculed his voice whenever he
sang. When was there to be an end of nothing being publicly admired
but what Seneca was thought to have originated? Surely Nero&apos;s boyhood
was over, and he was all but in the prime of youthful manhood. He
ought to shake off a tutor, furnished as he was with sufficiently
noble instructors in his own ancestors.&quot; 

Seneca, meanwhile, aware of these slanders, which were revealed to
him by those who had some respect for merit, coupled with the fact
that the emperor more and more shunned his intimacy, besought the
opportunity of an interview. This was granted, and he spoke as follows:-

&quot;It is fourteen years ago, Caesar, that I was first associated with
your prospects, and eight years since you have been emperor. In the
interval, you have heaped on me such honours and riches that nothing
is wanting to my happiness but a right use of it. I will refer to
great examples taken not from my own but from your position. Your
great-grandfather Augustus granted to Marcus Agrippa the calm repose
of Mitylene, to Caius Maecenas what was nearly equivalent to a foreign
retreat in the capital itself. One of these men shared his wars; the
other struggled with many laborious duties at Rome; both received
awards which were indeed splendid, but only proportioned to their
great merits. For myself, what other recompense had I for your munificence,
than a culture nursed, so to speak, in the shade of retirement, and
to which a glory attaches itself, because I thus seem to have helped
on the early training of your youth, an ample reward for the service.

&quot;You on the other hand have surrounded me with vast influence and
boundless wealth, so that I often think within myself, Am I, who am
but of an equestrian and provincial family, numbered among the chief
men of Rome? Among nobles who can show a long succession of glories,
has my new name become famous? Where is the mind once content with
a humble lot? Is this the man who is building up his garden terraces,
who paces grandly through these suburban parks, and revels in the
affluence of such broad lands and such widely-spread investments?
Only one apology occurs to me, that it would not have been right in
me to have thwarted your bounty. 

&quot;And yet we have both filled up our respective measures, you in giving
as much as a prince can bestow on a friend, and I in receiving as
much as a friend can receive from a prince. All else only fosters
envy, which, like all things human, sinks powerless beneath your greatness,
though on me it weighs heavily. To me relief is a necessity. Just
as I should implore support if exhausted by warfare or travel, so
in this journey of life, old as I am and unequal even to the lightest
cares, since I cannot any longer bear the burden of my wealth, I crave
assistance. Order my property to be managed by your agents and to
be included in your estate. Still I shall not sink myself into poverty,
but having surrendered the splendours which dazzle me, I will henceforth
again devote to my mind all the leisure and attention now reserved
for my gardens and country houses. You have yet before you a vigorous
prime, and that on which for so many years your eyes were fixed, supreme
power. We, your older friends, can answer for our quiet behaviour.
It will likewise redound to your honour that you have raised to the
highest places men who could also bear moderate fortune.&quot;

Nero&apos;s reply was substantially this:- &quot;My being able to meet your
elaborate speech with an instant rejoinder is, I consider, primarily
your gift, for you taught me how to express myself not only after
reflection but at a moment&apos;s notice. My great-grandfather Augustus
allowed Agrippa and Maecenas to enjoy rest after their labours, but
he did it at an age carrying with it an authority sufficient to justify
any boon, of any sort, he might have bestowed. But neither of them
did he strip of the rewards he had given. It was by war and its perils
they had earned them; for in these the youth of Augustus was spent.
And if I had passed my years in arms, your sword and right hand would
not have failed me. But, as my actual condition required, you watched
over my boyhood, then over my youth, with wisdom, counsel, and advice.
And indeed your gifts to me will, as long as life holds out, be lasting
possessions; those which you owe to me, your parks, investments, your
country houses, are liable to accidents. Though they seem much, many
far inferior to you in merit have obtained more. I am ashamed to quote
the names of freedmen who parade a greater wealth. Hence I actually
blush to think that, standing as you do first in my affections, you
do not as yet surpass all in fortune. 

&quot;Yours too is a still vigorous manhood, quite equal to the labours
of business and to the fruit of those labours; and, as for myself,
I am but treading the threshold of empire. But perhaps you count yourself
inferior to Vitellius, thrice a consul, and me to Claudius. Such wealth
as long thrift has procured for Volusius, my bounty, you think, cannot
fully make up to you. Why not rather, if the frailty of my youth goes
in any respect astray, call me back and guide yet more zealously with
your help the manhood which you have instructed? It will not be your
moderation, if you restore me your wealth, not your love of quiet,
if you forsake your emperor, but my avarice, the fear of my cruelty,
which will be in all men&apos;s mouths. Even if your self-control were
praised to the utmost, still it would not be seemly in a wise man
to get glory for himself in the very act of bringing disgrace on his
friend.&quot; 

To these words the emperor added embraces and kisses; for he was formed
by nature and trained by habit to veil his hatred under delusive flattery.
Seneca thanked him, the usual end of an interview with a despot. But
he entirely altered the practices of his former greatness; he kept
the crowds of his visitors at a distance, avoided trains of followers,
seldom appeared in Rome, as though weak health or philosophical studies
detained him at home. 

When Seneca had fallen, it was easy to shake the position of Faenius
Rufus by making Agrippina&apos;s friendship a charge against him. Tigellinus,
who was daily becoming more powerful and who thought that the wicked
schemings which alone gave him strength, would be better liked if
he could secure the emperor&apos;s complicity in guilt, dived into Nero&apos;s
most secret apprehensions, and, as soon as he had ascertained that
Plautus and Sulla were the men he most dreaded, Plautus having been
lately sent away to Asia, Sulla to Gallia Narbonensis, he spoke much
of their noble rank and of their respective proximity to the armies
of the East and of Germany. &quot;I have no eye,&quot; he said, &quot;like Burrus,
to two conflicting aims, but only to Nero&apos;s safety, which is at least
secured against treachery in Rome by my presence. As for distant commotions,
how can they be checked? Gaul is roused at the name of the great dictator,
and I distrust no less the nations of Asia, because of the renown
of such a grandfather as Drusus. Sulla is poor, and hence comes his
surpassing audacity; he shams apathy, while he is seeking an opening
for his reckless ambition. Plautus again, with his great wealth, does
not so much as affect a love of repose, but he flaunts before us his
imitations of the old Romans, and assumes the self-consciousness of
the Stoics along with a philosophy, which makes men restless, and
eager for a busy life.&quot; 

There was not a moment&apos;s delay. Sulla, six days afterwards, was murdered
by assassins brought over to Massilia, while he was reclining at the
dinner-table, before he feared or heard of his danger. The head was
taken to Rome, and Nero scoffed at its premature grey hairs as if
they were a disfigurement. 

It was less of a secret that there was a design to murder Plautus,
as his life was dear to many. The distance too by land and sea, and
the interval of time, had given rise to rumours, and the popular story
was that he had tampered with Corbulo, who was then at the head of
great armies, and would be a special mark for danger, if illustrious
and innocent men were to be destroyed. Again Asia, it was said, from
its partiality for the young man, had taken up arms, and the soldiers
sent to do the crime, not being sufficient in number or decided in
purpose, and, finding themselves unable to execute their orders, had
gone over to the new cause. These absurdities, like all popular gossip,
gathered strength from the idle leisure of a credulous society.

As it was, one of Plautus&apos;s freedmen, thanks to swift winds, arrived
before the centurion and brought him a message from his father-in-law,
Lucius Antistius. &quot;He was to avoid the obvious refuge of a coward&apos;s
death, and in the pity felt for a noble name he would soon find good
men to help him, and daring spirits would rally round him. Meantime
no resource was to be rejected. If he did but repel sixty soldiers
(this was the number on the way), while tidings were being carried
back to Nero, while another force was on its march, many events would
follow which would ripen into war. Finally, by this plan he either
secured safety, or he would suffer nothing worse by daring than by
cowardice.&quot; 

But all this had no effect on Plautus. Either he saw no resource before
him, an unarmed exile as he was, or he was weary of an uncertain hope,
or was swayed by his love of his wife and of his children, to whom
he thought the emperor, if harassed by no anxiety, would be more merciful.
Some say that another message came to him from his father-in-law,
representing that no dreadful peril hung over him, and that two teachers
of philosophy, Coeranus from Greece and Musonius from Etruria, advised
him to await death with firmness rather than lead a precarious and
anxious life. At all events, he was surprised at midday, when stripped
for exercise. In that state the centurion slew him in the presence
of Pelago, an eunuch, whom Nero had set over the centurion and his
company, like a despot&apos;s minister over his satellites. 

The head of the murdered man was brought to Rome. At its sight the
emperor exclaimed (I give his very words), &quot;Why would you have been
a Nero?&quot; Then casting off all fear he prepared to hurry on his marriage
with Poppaea, hitherto deferred because of such alarms as I have described,
and to divorce his wife Octavia, notwithstanding her virtuous life,
because her father&apos;s name and the people&apos;s affection for her made
her an offence to him. He wrote, however, a letter to the Senate,
confessing nothing about the murders of Sulla and Plautus, but merely
hinting that both had a restless temper, and that he gave the most
anxious thought to the safety of the State. On this pretext a thanksgiving
was decreed, and also the expulsion from the Senate of Sulla and Plautus,
more grievous, however, as a farce than as an actual calamity.

Nero, on receiving this decree of the Senate and seeing that every
piece of his wickedness was regarded as a conspicuous merit, drove
Octavia from him, alleging that she was barren, and then married Poppaea.
The woman who had long been Nero&apos;s mistress and ruled him first as
a paramour, then as her husband, instigated one of Octavia&apos;s servants
to accuse her an intrigue with a slave. The man fixed on as the guilty
lover was one by name Eucaerus, an Alexandrine by birth, skilled in
singing to the flute. As a consequence, her slave-girls were examined
under torture, and though some were forced by the intensity of agony
into admitting falsehoods, most of them persisted in upholding the
virtue of their mistress. One of them said, in answer to the furious
menaces of Tigellinus, that Octavia&apos;s person was purer than his mouth.
Octavia, however, was dismissed under the form of an ordinary divorce,
and received possession of the house of Burrus and of the estates
of Plautus, an ill-starred gift. She was soon afterwards banished
to Campania under military surveillance. This led to incessant and
outspoken remonstrances among the common people, who have less discretion
and are exposed to fewer dangers than others from the insignificance
of their position. Upon this Nero, though he did not repent of his
outrage, restored to Octavia her position as wife. 

Then people in their joy went up to the Capitol and, at last, gave
thanks to the gods. They threw down the statues of Poppaea; they bore
on their shoulders the images of Octavia, covering them with flowers,
and setting them up in the forum and in the temples. There was even
a burst of applause for the emperor, men hailing the recalled Octavia.
And now they were pouring into the Palace in crowds, with loud shoutings,
when some companies of soldiers rushed out and dispersed the tumultuous
throng with blows, and at the point of the sword. Whatever changes
had been made in the riot, were reversed, and Poppaea&apos;s honours restored.
Ever relentless in her hatred, she was now enraged by the fear that
either the violence of the mob would burst on her with yet fiercer
fury, or that Nero would be swayed by the popular bias, and so, flinging
herself at his knees, she exclaimed that she was not in the position
of a rival fighting for marriage, though that was dearer to her than
life, but that her very life was brought into jeopardy by the dependants
and slaves of Octavia, who had assumed the name of the people, and
dared in peace what could hardly happen in war. &quot;Those arms,&quot; she
said, &quot;have been taken up against the emperor; a leader only is wanting,
and he will easily be found in a commotion. Only let her whose mere
beck, though she is far away, stirs up tumult, quit Campania, and
make her way in person to Rome. And, again, what is my sin? What offense
have I caused any one? Is it that I am about to give to the house
of the Caesars a lawful heir? Do the people of Rome prefer that the
offspring of an Egyptian fluteplayer should be raised to the imperial
throne? In a word, if it be expedient, Nero should of his own choice
rather than on compulsion send for her who ruled him, or else secure
his safety by a righteous vengeance. The beginning of a commotion
has often been quieted by slight precautions; but if people once despair
of Octavia being Nero&apos;s wife, they will soon find her a husband.&quot;

Her various arguments, tending both to frighten and to enrage, at
once alarmed and incensed her listener. But the suspicion about the
slave was of little weight, and the torture of the slave-girls exposed
its absurdity. Consequently it was decided to procure a confession
from some one on whom could also be fastened a charge of revolutionary
designs. Fittest for this seemed the perpetrator of the mother&apos;s murder,
Anicetus, commander, as I have already mentioned, of the fleet at
Misenum, who got but scant gratitude after that atrocious deed, and
subsequently all the more vehement hatred, inasmuch as men look on
their instruments in crime as a sort of standing reproach to them.

The emperor accordingly sent for Anicetus, and reminded him of his
former service. &quot;He alone,&quot; he said, &quot;had come to the rescue of the
prince&apos;s life against a plotting mother. Close at hand was a chance
of winning no less gratitude by ridding him of a malignant wife. No
violence or weapons were needed; only let him confess to an intrigue
with Octavia.&quot; Nero then promised him a secret but ample immediate
recompense, and some delightful retreat, while he threatened him with
death in case of refusal. Anicetus, with the moral insensibility of
his nature and a promptness inspired by previous atrocities, invented
even more than was required of him, and confessed before friends whom
the prince had called in, as a sort of judicial council. He was then
banished to Sardinia, where he endured exile without poverty, and
died a natural death. 

Nero meanwhile declared by edict that the prefect had been corrupted
into a design of gaining over the fleet, and added, in forgetfulness
of his late charge of barrenness against Octavia, that, conscious
of her profligacies, she had procured abortion, a fact he had himself
ascertained. Then he confined her in the island of Pandataria. No
exile ever filled the eyes of beholders with tears of greater compassion.
Some still remembered Agrippina, banished by Tiberius, and the yet
fresher memory of Julia, whom Claudius exiled, was present to men&apos;s
thoughts. But they had life&apos;s prime for their stay; they had seen
some happiness, and the horror of the moment was alleviated by recollections
of a better lot in the past. For Octavia, from the first, her marriage-day
was a kind of funeral, brought, as she was, into a house where she
had nothing but scenes of mourning, her father and, an instant afterwards,
her brother, having been snatched from her by poison; then, a slave-girl
raised above the mistress; Poppaea married only to insure a wife&apos;s
ruin, and, to end all, an accusation more horrible than any death.

And now the girl, in her twentieth year, with centurions and soldiers
around her, already removed from among the living by the forecast
of doom, still could not reconcile herself to death. After an interval
of a few days, she received an order that she was to die, although
she protested that she was now a widow and only a sister, and appealed
to their common ancestors, the Germanici, and finally to the name
of Agrippina, during whose life she had endured a marriage, which
was miserable enough indeed, but not fatal. She was then tightly bound
with cords, and the veins of every limb were opened; but as her blood
was congealed by terror and flowed too slowly, she was killed outright
by the steam of an intensely hot bath. To this was added the yet more
appalling horror of Poppaea beholding the severed head which was conveyed
to Rome. 

And for all this offerings were voted to the temples. I record the
fact with a special object. Whoever would study the calamities of
that period in my pages or those of other authors, is to take it for
granted that as often as the emperor directed banishments or executions,
so often was there a thanksgiving to the gods, and what formerly commemorated
some prosperous event, was then a token of public disaster. Still,
if any decree of the Senate was marked by some new flattery, or by
the lowest servility, I shall not pass it over in silence.

That same year Nero was believed to have destroyed by poison two of
his most powerful freedmen, Doryphorus, on the pretext of his having
opposed the marriage with Poppaea, Pallas for still keeping his boundless
wealth by a prolonged old age. Romanus had accused Seneca in stealthy
calumnies, of having been an accomplice of Caius Piso, but he was
himself crushed more effectually by Seneca on the same charge. This
alarmed Piso, and gave rise to a huge fabric of unsuccessful conspiracies
against Nero. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

BOOK XV

A.D. 62-65 

Meanwhile, the Parthian king, Vologeses, when he heard of Corbulo&apos;s
achievements and of a foreign prince, Tigranes, having been set over
Armenia, though he longed at the same time to avenge the majesty of
the Arsacids, which had been insulted by the expulsion of his brother
Tiridates, was, on the other hand, drawn to different thoughts as
he reflected on the greatness of Rome, and felt reverence for a hitherto
unbroken treaty. Naturally irresolute, he was now hampered by a revolt
of the Hyrcanians, a powerful tribe, and by several wars arising out
of it. Suddenly, as he was wavering, fresh and further tidings of
disgrace goaded him to action. Tigranes, quitting Armenia, had ravaged
the Adiabeni, a people on its border, too extensively and continuously
for mere plundering raids. The chief men of the tribes were indignant
at having fallen into such contempt that they were victims to the
inroads, not indeed of a Roman general, but of a daring hostage, who
for so many years had been numbered among slaves. Their anger was
inflamed by Monobazus, who ruled the Adiabeni, and repeatedly asked
what protection he was to seek and from what quarter- &quot;Already,&quot; he
said, &quot;Armenia has been given up, and its borders are being wrested
from us, and unless the Parthians help us, we shall find that subjection
to Rome is lighter for those who surrender than for the conquered.&quot;
Tiridates too, exile as he was from his kingdom, by his silence or
very moderate complaints made the deeper impression. &quot;It is not,&quot;
he urged, &quot;by weak inaction that great empires are held together;
there must be the struggle of brave men in arms; might is right with
those who are at the summit of power. And though it is the glory of
a private house to keep its own, it is the glory of a king to fight
for the possessions of others.&quot; 

Moved by these considerations Vologeses called a council, placed Tiridates
by his side, and began to speak as follows: &quot;This man before you,
born from the same father as myself, having waived in my favour, on
the ground of age, the highest title of all, was established by me
in the possession of Armenia, which is accounted the third grade of
power. As for Media, Pacorus was already in possession of it. And
I thought to myself that I had duly arranged our family and home so
as to guard against the old feuds and rivalries of brothers. The Romans
thwart me, and though they have never with success to themselves disturbed
the peace between us, they are now again breaking it to their own
destruction. I will not attempt to deny one thing. It was by just
dealing rather than by bloodshed, by having a good cause rather than
by arms, that I had wished to retain what my ancestors had won. If
I have sinned through irresolution, my valour shall make amends for
it. Assuredly your strength and renown are at their height, and you
have in addition the repute of obedience, which the greatest of mortals
must not despise, and which the gods highly esteem.&quot; 

As he spoke, he encircled Tiridates&apos; brow with a diadem, and to Moneses,
a noble, he entrusted a highly efficient body of cavalry, which was
the king&apos;s customary escort, giving him also some auxiliaries from
the Adiabeni, and orders that Tigranes was to be driven out of Armenia.
He would himself abandon his feud with the Hyrcanians, and raise his
own national force in all its warlike strength by way of menace to
the Roman provinces. 

When Corbulo had heard all this from messengers he could trust, he
sent two legions under Verulanus Severus and Vettius Bolanus to the
support of Tigranes, with secret instructions that they were to conduct
all their operations with deliberation rather than despatch, as he
would prefer to sustain rather than to make war. And indeed he had
written to the emperor that a general was wanted specially for the
defence of Armenia, and that Syria, threatened as it was by Vologeses,
was in yet more imminent peril. Meanwhile he posted his remaining
legions on the bank of the Euphrates, armed a hastily collected force
of provincials, and occupied with troops the enemy&apos;s approaches. And
as the country was deficient in water, he established forts to guard
the wells, and concealed some of the streams with heaps of sand.

While Corbulo was thus preparing for the defence of Syria, Moneses
rapidly pushed on his forces to anticipate the rumour of his advance,
but he did not any the more find Tigranes unaware of or unprepared
for his movement. He had, in fact, occupied Tigranocerta, a city strong
from the multitude of its defenders and the vastness of its fortifications.
In addition, the river Nicephorius, the breadth of which is far from
contemptible, circled a portion of its walls, and a wide fosse was
drawn where they distrusted the protection of the stream. There were
some soldiers too, and supplies previously provided. In the conveyance
of these a few men had hurried on too eagerly, and, having been surprised
by a sudden attack from the enemy, had inspired their comrades with
rage rather than fear. But the Parthian has not the daring in close
combat needed for a successful siege. His thin showers of arrows do
not alarm men within walls, and only disappoint himself. The Adiabeni,
when they began to advance their scaling ladders and engines, were
easily driven back, and then cut down by a sally of our men.

Corbulo, however, notwithstanding his successes thought he must use
his good fortune with moderation, and sent Vologeses a message of
remonstrance against the violence done to a Roman province, and the
blockade of an allied and friendly king and of Roman cohorts. &quot;He
had better give up the siege, or he, Corbulo too would encamp in his
territory, as on hostile ground.&quot; Casperius, a centurion selected
for this mission, had an interview with the king at the town Nisibis,
thirty-seven miles distant from Tigranocerta, and with fearless spirit
announced his message. With Vologeses it was an old and deep conviction
that he should shun the arms of Rome. Nor was the present going smoothly
with him. The seige was a failure; Tigranes was safe with his troops
and supplies; those who had undertaken the storming of the place had
been routed; legions had been sent into Armenia, and other legions
were ready to rush to the attack on behalf of Syria, while his own
cavalry was crippled by want of food. A host of locusts, suddenly
appearing, had devoured every blade of grass and every leaf. And so,
hiding his fear and presenting a more conciliatory attitude, he replied
that he would send envoys to the Roman emperor for the possession
of Armenia and the conclusion of a lasting peace. He ordered Moneses
to leave Tigranocerta, while he himself retired. 

Many spoke highly of these results, as due to the king&apos;s alarm and
the threats of Corbulo, and as splendid successes. Others explained
them as a secret understanding that with the cessation of war on both
sides and the departure of Vologeses, Tigranes also was to quit Armenia.
&quot;Why,&quot; it was asked, &quot;had the Roman army been withdrawn from Tigranocerta?
Why had they abandoned in peace what they had defended in war? Was
it better for them to have wintered on the confines of Cappadocia
in hastily constructed huts, than in the capital of a kingdom lately
recovered? There had been, in short, a suspension of arms, in order
that Vologeses might fight some other foe than Corbulo, and that Corbulo
might not further risk the glory he had earned in so many years. For,
as I have related, he had asked for a general exclusively for the
defence of Armenia, and it was heard that Caesennius Paetus was on
his way. And indeed he had now arrived, and the army was thus divided;
the fourth and twelfth legions, with the fifth which had lately been
raised in Moesia and the auxiliaries from Pontus, Galatia and Cappadocia,
were under the command of Paetus, while the third, sixth, and tenth
legions and the old soldiery of Syria remained with Corbulo. All else
they were to share or divide between them according to circumstances.
But as Corbulo could not endure a rival, so Paetus, who would have
been sufficiently honoured by ranking second to him, disparaged the
results of the war, and said repeatedly that there had been no bloodshed
or spoil, that the sieges of cities were sieges only in name, and
that he would soon impose on the conquered tribute and laws and Roman
administration, instead of the empty shadow of a king. 

About the same time the envoys of Vologeses, who had been sent, as
I have related, to the emperor, returned without success, and the
Parthians made open war. Nor did Paetus decline the challenge, but
with two legions, the 4th and 12th, the first of which was then commanded
by Funisulanus Vettonianus and the second by Calavius Sabinus, entered
Armenia, with unlucky omen. In the passage of the Euphrates, which
they crossed by a bridge, a horse which carried the consul&apos;s official
emblems, took fright without any apparent cause and fled to the rear.
A victim, too, standing by some of the winter-tents, which were being
fortified, broke its way through them, when the work was but half
finished, and got clear out of the entrenchments. Then again the soldiers&apos;
javelins gleamed with light, a prodigy the more significant because
the Parthian foe fights with missiles. 

Paetus, however, despising omens, before he had yet thoroughly fortified
his winter-camp or provided for his corn supply, hurried his army
across Mount Taurus, for the recovery, as he gave out, of Tigranocerta
and the ravaging of the country which Corbulo had left untouched.
Some forts too were taken, and some glory as well as plunder had been
secured, if only he had enjoyed his glory modestly, and his plunder
with vigilance. While he was overrunning in tedious expeditions districts
which could not be held, the supplies which had been captured, were
spoilt, and as winter was now at hand, he led back his army and wrote
a letter to the emperor, as if the war was finished, in pompous language,
but barren of facts. 

Meanwhile Corbulo occupied the bank of the Euphrates, which he had
never neglected, with troops at closer intervals. That he might have
no hindrance in throwing a bridge over it from the enemy&apos;s cavalry,
which was already scouring the adjoining plains with a formidable
display, he launched on the river some vessels of remarkable size,
linked together by beams, with towers rising from their decks, and
with catapults and balistas he drove off the barbarians. The stones
and spears penetrated their host at a range beyond the reach of the
opposing volleys of arrows. The bridge was then completed, and the
hills facing us were occupied by our auxiliary infantry, then, by
the entrenchments of the legions, with such rapidity and such a display
of force that the Parthians, giving up their preparations for the
invasion of Syria, concentrated all their hopes on Armenia.

Paetus, ignorant of the impending danger, was keeping the 5th legion
at a distance in Pontus; the rest he had weakened by indiscriminate
furloughs, till it was heard that Vologeses was approaching with a
powerful force bent on war. He summoned the 12th legion, and then
was discovered the numerical feebleness of the source from which he
had hoped for the repute of an augmented army. Yet even thus the camp
might have been held, and the Parthian foe baffled, by protracting
the war, had Paetus stood firm either by his own counsels or by those
of others. But though military men had put him on his guard against
imminent disasters, still, not wishing to seem to need the advice
of others, he would fall back on some quite different and inferior
plan. So now, leaving his winter quarters, and exclaiming that not
the fosse or the rampart, but the men&apos;s bodies and weapons were given
him for facing the foe, he led out his legions, as if he meant to
fight a battle. Then, after losing a centurion and a few soldiers
whom he had sent on in advance to reconnoitre the enemy&apos;s forces,
he returned in alarm. And, as Vologeses had not pressed his advantage
with much vigour, Paetus once again, with vain confidence, posted
3000 chosen infantry on the adjacent ridge of the taurus, in order
to bar the king&apos;s passage. He also stationed some Pannonian troopers,
the flower of his cavalry, in a part of the plain. His wife and son
he removed to a fortress named Arsamosata, with a cohort for their
defence, thus dispersing the troops which, if kept together, could
easily have checked the desultory skirmishing of the enemy. He could,
it is said, scarcely be driven to confess to Corbulo how the enemy
was pressing him. Corbulo made no haste, that, when the dangers thickened,
the glory of the rescue might be enhanced. Yet he ordered 1000 men
from each of his three legions with 800 cavalry, and an equal number
of infantry to be in instant readiness. 

Vologeses meanwhile, though he had heard that the roads were blocked
by Paetus, here with infantry, there with cavalry, did not alter his
plan, but drove off the latter by the menace of an attack, and crushed
the legionaires, only one centurion of whom, Tarquitius Crescens,
dared to defend a tower in which he was keeping guard. He had often
sallied out, and cut to pieces such of the barbarians as came close
up to the walls, till he was overwhelmed with volleys of firebrands.
Every foot soldier still unwounded fled to remote wilds, and those
who were disabled, returned to the camp, exaggerating in their terror
the king&apos;s valour, and the warlike strength of his tribes, everything
in short, to the simple credulity of those who trembled with like
fear. Even the general did not struggle against his reverses. He had
indeed wholly abandoned all the duties of a soldier, and had again
sent an entreaty to Corbulo, that he would come with speed to save
the standards and eagles, and the name yet left to the unfortunate
army; they meantime, he said, would hold to their fidelity while life
lasted. 

Corbulo, perfectly fearless, left half his army in Syria to retain
the forts built on the Euphrates, and taking the nearest route, which
also was not deficient in supplies, marched through the country of
Commagene, then through Cappadocia, and thence into Armenia. Beside
the other usual accompaniments of war, his army was followed by a
great number of camels laden with corn, to keep off famine as well
as the enemy. The first he met of the defeated army was Paccius, a
first-rank centurion, then many of the soldiers, whom, when they pleaded
various excuses for flight, he advised to return to their standards
and throw themselves on the mercy of Paetus. &quot;For himself,&quot; he said,
&quot;he had no forgiveness but for the victorious.&quot; 

As he spoke, he went up to his legions, cheering them and reminding
them of their past career, and pointing the way to new glory. &quot;It
was not to villages or towns of Armenia, but to a Roman camp with
two legions, a worthy recompense for their efforts, that they were
bound. If each common soldier were to have bestowed on him by the
emperor&apos;s hand the special honour of a crown for a rescued citizen,
how wonderfully great the glory, when the numbers would be equal of
those who had brought and of those had received deliverance.&quot; Roused
by these and like words into a common enthusiasm, and some too were
filled with an ardour peculiarly their own by the perils of brothers
and kinsfolk, they hurried on by day and night their uninterrupted
march. 

All the more vigorously did Vologeses press the besieged, now attacking
the legions&apos; entrenchments, and now again the fortress, which guarded
those whose years unfitted them for war. He advanced closer than is
the Parthian practice, seeking to lure the enemy to an engagement
by such rashness. They, however, could hardly be dragged out of their
tents, and would merely defend their lives, some held back by the
general&apos;s order, others by their own cowardice; they seemed to be
awaiting Corbulo, and should they be overpowered by force, they had
before them the examples of Candium and Numantia. &quot;Neither the Samnites,
Italian people as they were, nor the Carthaginians, the rivals of
the Roman empire, were, it seemed, equally formidable, and even the
men of old, with all their strength and glory, whenever fortune was
adverse, had taken thought for safety.&quot; 

The general, although he was overcome by the despair of his army,
first wrote a letter to Vologeses, not a suppliant petition, but in
a tone of remonstrance against the doing of hostile acts on behalf
of the Armenians, who always had been under Roman dominion, or subject
to a king chosen by the emperor. Peace, he reminded him, was equally
for the interest of both, and it would be well for him not to look
only at the present. He indeed had advanced with the whole strength
of his kingdom against two legions, while the Romans had all the rest
of the world with which to sustain the war. 

To this Vologeses replied nothing to the purpose, but merely that
he must wait for his brothers Pacorus and Tiridates, that the place
and time of their meeting had been fixed on as the occasion when they
would decide about Armenia, and that heaven had granted them a further
honour, well worthy of the Arsacids, the having to determine the fate
of Roman legions. Messengers were then despatched by Paetus and an
interview requested with the king, who ordered Vasaces, the commander
of the cavalry, to go. Thereupon Paetus dwelt on the memories of the
Luculli and Pompeii, and of all that the Caesars had done in the way
of holding or giving away Armenia, while Vasaces declared that we
had the mere shadow of possession and of bestowing, but the Parthians,
the reality of power. After much arguing on both sides, Monobazus
of the Adiabeni was called the next day to be a witness to the stipulations
into which they had entered. It was agreed that the legions should
be released from the blockade, that all the troops should quit Armenian
territory, and that the forts and supplies should be surrendered to
the Parthians, and when all this had been completed, Vologeses was
to have full permission to send envoys to Nero. 

Meanwhile Paetus threw a bridge over the river Arsanias, which flowed
by the camp, apparently with the view of facilitating his march. It
was the Parthians, however, who had required this, as an evidence
of their victory; for the bridge was of use to them, while our men
went a different way. Rumour added that the legions had been passed
under the yoke, with other miserable disgraces, of which the Armenians
had borrowed imitations. For they not only entered our lines before
the Roman army began to retire, but also stood about the camp streets,
recognizing and dragging off slaves or beasts of burden which we had
previously captured. They even seized clothes and detained weapons,
for the soldiers were utterly cowed and gave up everything, so that
no cause for fighting might arise. Vologeses having piled up the arms
and bodies of the slain in order to attest our defeat, refrained from
gazing on the fugitive legions. He sought a character for moderation
after he had glutted his pride. Seated himself on an elephant, he
crossed the river Arsanias, while those next to his person rushed
through it at the utmost speed of their horses; for a rumour had gained
ground that the bridge would give way, through the trickery of its
builders. But those who ventured to go on it found it to be firm and
trustworthy. 

As for the besieged, it appeared that they had such an abundance of
corn that they fired the granaries, and Corbulo declared that the
Parthians on the other hand were in want of supplies, and would have
abandoned the siege from their fodder being all but exhausted, and
that he was himself only three days&apos; march distant. He further stated
that Paetus had guaranteed by an oath, before the standards, in the
presence of those whom the king had sent to be witnesses, that no
Roman was to enter Armenia until Nero&apos;s reply arrived as to whether
he assented to the peace. Though this may have been invented to enhance
our disgrace, yet about the rest of the story there is no obscurity,
that, in a single day Paetus traversed forty miles, leaving his wounded
behind him everywhere, and that the consternation of the fugitives
was as frightful as if they had turned their backs in battle. Corbulo,
as he met them with his forces on the bank of the Euphrates, did not
make such a display of his standards and arms as to shame them by
the contrast. His men, in their grief and pity for the lot of their
comrades, could not even refrain from tears. There was scarce any
mutual salutation for weeping. The spirit of a noble rivalry and the
desire of glory, emotions which stir men in success, had died away;
pity alone survived, the more strongly in the inferior ranks.

Then followed a short conversation between the generals. While Corbulo
complained that his efforts had been fruitless and that the war might
have been ended with the flight of the Parthians, Paetus replied that
for neither of them was anything lost, and urged that they should
reverse the eagles, and with their united forces invade Armenia, much
weakened, as it was, by the departure of Vologeses. Corbulo said that
he had no such instructions from the emperor; it was the peril of
the legions which had stirred him to leave his province, and, as there
was uncertainty about the designs of the Parthians, he should return
to Syria, and, even as it was, he must pray for fortune under her
most favourable aspect in order that the infantry, wearied out with
long marches, might keep pace with the enemy&apos;s untiring cavalry, certain
to outstrip him on the plains, which facilitated their movements.
Paetus then went into winter quarters in Cappadocia. Vologeses, however,
sent a message to Corbulo, requiring him to remove the fortresses
on the further bank of the Euphrates, and to leave the river to be,
as formerly, the boundary between them. Corbulo also demanded the
evacuation of Armenia by the garrisons posted throughout it. At last
the king yielded, all the positions fortified by Corbulo beyond the
Euphrates were destroyed, and the Armenians too left without a master.

At Rome meanwhile trophies for the Parthian war, and arches were erected
in the centre of the Capitoline hill; these had been decreed by the
Senate, while the war was yet undecided, and even now they were not
given up, appearances being consulted, in disregard of known facts.
And to hide his anxious fears about foreign affairs, Nero threw the
people&apos;s corn, which was so old as to be spoilt, into the Tiber, with
the view of keeping up a sense of security about the supplies. There
was no addition to the price, although about two hundred ships were
destroyed in the very harbour by a violent storm, and one hundred
more, which had sailed up the Tiber, by an accidental fire. Nero next
appointed three ex-consuls, Lucius Piso, Ducennius Geminus, and Pompeius
Paulinus, to the management of the public revenues, and inveighed
at the same time against former emperors whose heavy expenditure had
exceeded their legitimate income. He himself, he said, made the state
an annual present of sixty million sesterces. 

A very demoralizing custom had at this time become rife, of fictitious
adoptions of children, on the eve of the elections or of the assignment
of the provinces, by a number of childless persons, who, after obtaining
along with real fathers praetorships and provinces, forthwith dismissed
from paternal control the sons whom they had adopted. An appeal was
made to the Senate under a keen sense of wrong. Parents pleaded natural
rights and the anxieties of nurture against fraudulent evasions and
the brief ceremony of adoption. &quot;It was,&quot; they argued, &quot;sufficient
reward for the childless to have influence and distinction, everything,
in short, easy and open to them, without a care and without a burden.
For themselves, they found that the promises held out by the laws,
for which they had long waited, were turned into mockery, when one
who knew nothing of a parent&apos;s solicitude or of the sorrows of bereavement
could rise in a moment to the level of a father&apos;s long deferred hopes.&quot;

On this, a decree of the Senate was passed that a fictitious adoption
should be of no avail in any department of the public service, or
even hold good for acquiring an inheritance. 

Next came the prosecution of Claudius Timarchus of Crete, on such
charges as often fall on very influential provincials, whom immense
wealth has emboldened to the oppression of the weak. But one speech
of his had gone to the extremity of a gross insult to the Senate;
for he had repeatedly declared that it was in his power to decide
whether the proconsuls who had governed Crete should receive the thanks
of the province. Paetus Thrasea, turning the occasion to public advantage,
after having stated his opinion that the accused ought to be expelled
from Crete, further spoke as follows:- 

&quot;It is found by experience, Senators, that admirable laws and right
precedents among the good have their origin in the misdeeds of others.
Thus the license of advocates resulted in the Cincian bill; the corrupt
practices of candidates, in the Julian laws; the rapacity of magistrates,
in the Calpurnian enactments. For, in point of time, guilt comes before
punishment, and correction follows after delinquency. And therefore,
to meet the new insolence of provincials, let us adopt a measure worthy
of Roman good faith and resolution, whereby our allies may lose nothing
of our protection, while public opinion may cease to say of us, that
the estimate of a man&apos;s character is to found anywhere rather than
in the judgment of our citizens. 

&quot;Formerly, it was not only a praetor or a consul, but private persons
also, who were sent to inspect the provinces, and to report what they
thought about each man&apos;s loyalty. And nations were timidly sensitive
to the opinion of individuals. But now we court foreigners and flatter
them, and just as there is a vote of thanks at any one&apos;s pleasure,
so even more eagerly is a prosecution decided on. Well; let it be
decided on, and let the provincials retain the right of showing their
power in this fashion, but as for false praise which has been extorted
by entreaties, let it be as much checked as fraud or tyranny. More
faults are often committed, while we are trying to oblige than while
we are giving offence. Nay, some virtues are actually hated; inflexible
strictness, for example, and a temper proof against partiality. Consequently,
our magistrates&apos; early career is generally better than its close,
which deteriorates, when we are anxiously seeking votes, like candidates.
If such practices are stopped, our provinces will be ruled more equitably
and more steadily. For as the dread of a charge of extortion has been
a check to rapacity, so, by prohibiting the vote of thanks, will the
pursuit of popularity be restrained.&quot; 

This opinion was hailed with great unanimity, but the Senate&apos;s resolution
could not be finally passed, as the consuls decided that there had
been no formal motion on the subject. Then, at the emperor&apos;s suggestion,
they decreed that no one was to propose to any council of our allies
that a vote of thanks ought to be given in the Senate to propraetors
or proconsuls, and that no one was to discharge such a mission.

During the same consulship a gymnasium was wholly consumed by a stroke
of lightning, and a statue of Nero within it was melted down to a
shapeless mass of bronze. An earthquake too demolished a large part
of Pompeii, a populous town in Campania. And one of the vestal virgins,
Laelia, died, and in her place was chosen Cornelia, of the family
of the Cossi. 

During the consulship of Memmius Regulus and Verginius Rufus, Nero
welcomed with something more than mortal joy the birth of a daughter
by Poppaea, whom he called Augusta, the same title having also been
given to Poppaea. The place of her confinement was the colony of Antium,
where the emperor himself was born. Already had the Senate commended
Poppaea&apos;s safety to the gods, and had made vows in the State&apos;s name,
which were repeated again and again and duly discharged. To these
was added a public thanksgiving, and a temple was decreed to the goddess
of fecundity, as well as games and contests after the type of the
ceremonies commemorative of Actium, and golden images of the two Fortunes
were to be set up on the throne of Jupiter of the Capitol. Shows too
of the circus were to be exhibited in honour of the Claudian and Domitian
families at Antium, like those at Bovillae in commemoration of the
Julii. Transient distinctions all of them, as within four months the
infant died. Again there was an outburst of flattery, men voting the
honours of deification, of a shrine, a temple, and a priest.

The emperor, too, was as excessive in his grief as he had been in
his joy. It was observed that when all the Senate rushed out to Antium
to honour the recent birth, Thrasea was forbidden to go, and received
with fearless spirit an affront which foreboded his doom. Then followed,
as rumour says, an expression from the emperor, in which he boasted
to Seneca of his reconciliation with Thrasea, on which Seneca congratulated
him. And now henceforth the glory and the peril of these illustrious
men grew greater. 

Meanwhile, in the beginning of spring, Parthian envoys brought a message
from king Vologeses, with a letter to the same effect. &quot;He did not,&quot;
it was said, &quot;repeat his former and frequent claims to the holding
of Armenia, since the gods who ruled the destinies of the most powerful
nations, had handed over its possession to the Parthians, not without
disgrace to Rome. Only lately, he had besieged Tigranes; afterwards,
he let Paetus and his legions depart in safety when he could have
destroyed them. He had tried force with a satisfactory result; he
had also given clemency a trial. Nor would Tiridates refuse a journey
to Rome to receive the crown, were he not detained at home by the
duties of a sacred office. He was ready to go to the emperor&apos;s image
in the Roman headquarters, and there in the presence of the legions
inaugurate his reign.&quot; 

As Paetus&apos;s despatch contradicted this letter from Vologeses and implied
that matters were unchanged, the centurion who had arrived with the
envoys was questioned as to the state of Armenia. He replied that
all the Romans had quitted it. Then was perceived the mockery of the
barbarians in petitioning for what they had wrested from us, and Nero
consulted with the chief men of the State whether they should accept
a dangerous war or a disgraceful peace. There was no hesitation about
war. Corbulo, who had known our soldiers and the enemy for so many
years, was appointed to conduct it, that there might be no more blunders
through any other officer&apos;s incapacity; for people were utterly disgusted
with Paetus. 

So the envoys were sent back without an answer, but with some presents,
in order to inspire a hope that Tiridates would not make the same
request in vain, if only he presented his petition in person. The
administration of Syria was intrusted to Caius Itius, and the military
forces to Corbulo, to which was added the fifteenth legion, under
the leadership of Marius Celsus, from Pannonia. Written orders were
sent to the tetrarchs, the tributaries, kings, prefects and procurators,
and all the praetors who governed the neighbouring provinces, to obey
Corbulo&apos;s commands, as his powers were enlarged on much the same scale
as that which the Roman people had granted to Cneius Pompeius on the
eve of his war against the Pirates. When Paetus returned and dreaded
something worse, the emperor thought it enough to reproach him with
a jest, to the effect that he pardoned him at once, lest one so ready
to take fright might sink under prolonged suspense. 

Corbulo meantime transferred to Syria the fourth and twelfth legions,
which, from the loss of their bravest men and the panic of the remainder,
seemed quite unfit for battle, and led thence into Armenia the third
and sixth legions, troops in thorough efficiency, and trained by frequent
and successful service. And he added to his army the fifth legion,
which, having been quartered in Pontus, had known nothing of disaster,
with men of the fifteenth, lately brought up, and picked veterans
from Illyricum and Egypt, and all the allied cavalry and infantry,
and the auxiliaries of the tributary princes, which had been concentrated
at Melitene, where he was preparing to cross the Euphrates. Then,
after the due lustration of his army, he called them together for
an harangue, and began with grand allusions to the imperial auspices,
and to his own achievements, while he attributed their disasters to
the incapacity of Paetus. He spoke with much impressiveness, which
in him, as a military man, was as good as eloquence. 

He then pursued the route opened up in former days by Lucius Lucullus,
clearing away the obstructions of long years. Envoys who came to him
from Tiridates and Vologeses about peace, he did not repulse, but
sent back with them some centurions with a message anything but harsh.
&quot;Matters,&quot; he said, &quot;have not yet gone so far as to require the extremity
of war. Many successes have fallen to the lot of Rome, some to that
of Parthia, as a warning against pride. Therefore, it is to the advantage
of Tiridates to accept as a gift a kingdom yet unhurt by the ravages
of war, and Vologeses will better consult the welfare of the Parthian
people by an alliance with Rome than by mutual injuries. I know how
much there is of internal discord, and over what untamably fierce
tribes he reigns. My emperor, on the other hand, has undisturbed peace
all around him, and this is his only war.&quot; 

In an instant Corbulo backed up his advice by a menacing attitude.
He drove from their possessions the nobles of Armenia, who had been
the first to revolt from us, destroyed their fortresses, and spread
equal panic throughout the plain and the hill country, among the strong
and among the weak. 

Against the name of Corbulo no rage, nothing of the hatred of an enemy,
was felt by the barbarians, and they therefore thought his advice
trustworthy. Consequently Vologeses was not implacable to the uttermost,
and he even asked a truce for some divisions of his kingdom. Tiridates
demanded a place and a day for an interview. The time was to be soon,
the place that in which Paetus and his legions had been lately besieged,
for this was chosen by the barbarians in remembrance for their more
prosperous fortune. Corbulo did not refuse, resolved that a widely
different issue should enhance his renown. Nor did the disgrace of
Paetus trouble him, as was clearly proved by the fact that he commanded
Paetus&apos; son, who was a tribune, to take some companies with him and
cover up the relics of that ill-starred battle-field. On the day appointed,
Tiberius Alexander, a distinguished Roman knight, sent to assist in
the campaign, and Vinianus Annius, Corbulo&apos;s son-in-law, who, though
not yet of a senator&apos;s age, had the command of the fifth legion as
&quot;legatus,&quot; entered the camp of Tiridates, by way of compliment to
him, and to reassure him against treachery by so valuable a pledge.
Each then took with him twenty horsemen. The king, seeing Corbulo,
was the first to dismount, and Corbulo hesitated not a moment, but
both on foot joined their right hands. 

Then the Roman commended the young prince for abandoning rash courses,
and adopting a safe and expedient policy. Tiridates first dwelt much
on the nobility of his race, but went on to speak in a tone of moderation.
He would go to Rome, and bring the emperor a new glory, a suppliant
Arsacid, while Parthia was prosperous. It was then agreed that Tiridates
should lay down his royal crown before Caesar&apos;s image, and resume
it only from the hand of Nero. The interview then ended with a kiss.
After an interval of a few days there was a grand display on both
sides; on the one, cavalry ranged in squadrons with their national
ensigns; on the other, stood the columns of our legions with glittering
eagles and standards and images of deities, after the appearance of
a temple. In the midst, on a tribunal, was a chair of state, and on
the chair a statue of Nero. To this Tiridates advanced, and having
slain the customary victims, he removed the crown from his head, and
set it at the foot of the statue; whereupon all felt a deep thrill
of emotion, rendered the more intense by the sight which yet lingered
before their eyes, of the slaughter or siege of Roman armies. &quot;But
now,&quot; they thought, &quot;the calamity is reversed; Tiridates is about
to go, a spectacle to the world, little better than a prisoner.&quot;

To military glory Corbulo added courtesy and hospitality. When the
king continually asked the reason of whatever he noticed which was
new to him, the announcements, for example, by a centurion of the
beginnings of each watch, the dismissal of the guests by the sound
of a trumpet, and the lighting by a torch from beneath of an altar
in front of the headquarters, Corbulo, by exaggerating everything,
filled him with admiration of our ancient system. Next day Tiridates
begged for time which, as he was about to enter on so long a journey,
might suffice for a previous visit to his brothers and his mother.
Meanwhile he gave up his daughter as a hostage, and prepared a suppliant
letter to Nero. 

He then departed, and found Pacorus in Media, and Vologeses at Ecbatana,
who was by no means unconcerned for his brother. In fact, Vologeses
had entreated Corbulo by special messengers, that Tiridates might
not have to endure any badge of slavery, or have to deliver up his
sword, or be debarred the honour of embracing the governors of the
provinces, or have to present himself at their doors, and that he
might be treated at Rome with as much respect as the consuls. Accustomed,
forsooth, to foreign arrogance, he had no knowledge of us, who value
the reality of empire and disregard its empty show. 

That same year the emperor put into possession of the Latin franchise
the tribes of the maritime Alps. To the Roman knights he assigned
places in the circus in front of the seats of the people, for up to
that time they used to enter in a promiscuous throng, as the Roscian
law extended only to fourteen rows in the theatre. The same year witnessed
shows of gladiators as magnificent as those of the past. Many ladies
of distinction, however, and senators, disgraced themselves by appearing
in the amphitheatre. 

In the year of the consulship of Caius Laecanius and Marcus Licinius
a yet keener impulse urged Nero to show himself frequently on the
public stage. Hitherto he had sung in private houses or gardens, during
the juvenile games, but these he now despised, as being but little
frequented, and on too small a scale for so fine a voice. As, however,
he did not venture to make a beginning at Rome, he chose Neapolis,
because it was a Greek city. From this as his starting-point he might
cross into Achaia, and there, winning the well-known and sacred garlands
of antiquity, evoke, with increased fame, the enthusiasm of the citizens.
Accordingly, a rabble of the townsfolk was brought together, with
those whom the excitement of such an event had attracted from the
neighbouring towns and colonies, and such as followed in the emperor&apos;s
train to pay him honour or for various objects. All these, with some
companies of soldiers, filled the theatre at Neapolis. 

There an incident occurred, which many thought unlucky, though to
the emperor it seemed due to the providence of auspicious deities.
The people who had been present, had quitted the theatre, and the
empty building then fell in without harm to anyone. Thereupon Nero
in an elaborate ode thanked the gods, celebrating the good luck which
attended the late downfall, and as he was on his way to cross the
sea of Hadria, he rested awhile at Beneventum, where a crowded gladiatorial
show was being exhibited by Vatinius. The man was one of the most
conspicuously infamous sights in the imperial court, bred, as he had
been, in a shoemaker&apos;s shop, of a deformed person and vulgar wit,
originally introduced as a butt. After a time he grew so powerful
by accusing all the best men, that in influence, wealth, and ability
to injure, he was pre-eminent even in that bad company. 

While Nero was frequently visiting the show, even amid his pleasures
there was no cessation to his crimes. For during the very same period
Torquatus Silanus was forced to die, because over and above his illustrious
rank as one of the Junian family he claimed to be the great-grandson
of Augustus. Accusers were ordered to charge him with prodigality
in lavishing gifts, and with having no hope but in revolution. They
said further that he had nobles about him for his letters, books,
and accounts, titles all and rehearsals of supreme power. Then the
most intimate of his freedmen were put in chains and torn from him,
till, knowing the doom which impended, Torquatus divided the arteries
in his arms. A speech from Nero followed, as usual, which stated that
though he was guilty and with good reason distrusted his defence,
he would yet have lived, had he awaited the clemency of the judge.

Soon afterwards, giving up Achaia for the present (his reasons were
not certainly known), he returned to Rome, there dwelling in his secret
imaginations on the provinces of the east, especially Egypt. Then
having declared in a public proclamation that his absence would not
be long and that all things in the State would remain unchanged and
prosperous, he visited the temple of the Capitol for advice about
his departure. There he adored the gods; then he entered also the
temple of Vesta, and there feeling a sudden trembling throughout his
limbs, either from terror inspired by the deity or because, from the
remembrance of his crimes, he was never free from fear, he relinquished
his purpose, repeatedly saying that all his plans were of less account
than his love of his country. &quot;He had seen the sad countenances of
the citizens, he heard their secret complainings at the prospect of
his entering on so long a journey, when they could not bear so much
as his brief excursions, accustomed as they were to cheer themselves
under mischances by the sight of the emperor. Hence, as in private
relationships the closest ties were the strongest, so the people of
Rome had the most powerful claims and must be obeyed in their wish
to retain him.&quot; 

These and the like sentiments suited the people, who craved amusement,
and feared, always their chief anxiety, scarcity of corn, should he
be absent. The Senate and leading citizens were in doubt whether to
regard him as more terrible at a distance or among them. After a while,
as is the way with great terrors, they thought what happened the worst
alternative. 

Nero, to win credit for himself of enjoying nothing so much as the
capital, prepared banquets in the public places, and used the whole
city, so to say, as his private house. Of these entertainments the
most famous for their notorious profligacy were those furnished by
Tigellinus, which I will describe as an illustration, that I may not
have again and again to narrate similar extravagance. He had a raft
constructed on Agrippa&apos;s lake, put the guests on board and set it
in motion by other vessels towing it. These vessels glittered with
gold and ivory; the crews were arranged according to age and experience
in vice. Birds and beasts had been procured from remote countries,
and sea monsters from the ocean. On the margin of the lake were set
up brothels crowded with noble ladies, and on the opposite bank were
seen naked prostitutes with obscene gestures and movements. As darkness
approached, all the adjacent grove and surrounding buildings resounded
with song, and shone brilliantly with lights. Nero, who polluted himself
by every lawful or lawless indulgence, had not omitted a single abomination
which could heighten his depravity, till a few days afterwards he
stooped to marry himself to one of that filthy herd, by name Pythagoras,
with all the forms of regular wedlock. The bridal veil was put over
the emperor; people saw the witnesses of the ceremony, the wedding
dower, the couch and the nuptial torches; everything in a word was
plainly visible, which, even when a woman weds darkness hides.

A disaster followed, whether accidental or treacherously contrived
by the emperor, is uncertain, as authors have given both accounts,
worse, however, and more dreadful than any which have ever happened
to this city by the violence of fire. It had its beginning in that
part of the circus which adjoins the Palatine and Caelian hills, where,
amid the shops containing inflammable wares, the conflagration both
broke out and instantly became so fierce and so rapid from the wind
that it seized in its grasp the entire length of the circus. For here
there were no houses fenced in by solid masonry, or temples surrounded
by walls, or any other obstacle to interpose delay. The blaze in its
fury ran first through the level portions of the city, then rising
to the hills, while it again devastated every place below them, it
outstripped all preventive measures; so rapid was the mischief and
so completely at its mercy the city, with those narrow winding passages
and irregular streets, which characterised old Rome. Added to this
were the wailings of terror-stricken women, the feebleness of age,
the helpless inexperience of childhood, the crowds who sought to save
themselves or others, dragging out the infirm or waiting for them,
and by their hurry in the one case, by their delay in the other, aggravating
the confusion. Often, while they looked behind them, they were intercepted
by flames on their side or in their face. Or if they reached a refuge
close at hand, when this too was seized by the fire, they found that,
even places, which they had imagined to be remote, were involved in
the same calamity. At last, doubting what they should avoid or whither
betake themselves, they crowded the streets or flung themselves down
in the fields, while some who had lost their all, even their very
daily bread, and others out of love for their kinsfolk, whom they
had been unable to rescue, perished, though escape was open to them.
And no one dared to stop the mischief, because of incessant menaces
from a number of persons who forbade the extinguishing of the flames,
because again others openly hurled brands, and kept shouting that
there was one who gave them authority, either seeking to plunder more
freely, or obeying orders. 

Nero at this time was at Antium, and did not return to Rome until
the fire approached his house, which he had built to connect the palace
with the gardens of Maecenas. It could not, however, be stopped from
devouring the palace, the house, and everything around it. However,
to relieve the people, driven out homeless as they were, he threw
open to them the Campus Martius and the public buildings of Agrippa,
and even his own gardens, and raised temporary structures to receive
the destitute multitude. Supplies of food were brought up from Ostia
and the neighbouring towns, and the price of corn was reduced to three
sesterces a peck. These acts, though popular, produced no effect,
since a rumour had gone forth everywhere that, at the very time when
the city was in flames, the emperor appeared on a private stage and
sang of the destruction of Troy, comparing present misfortunes with
the calamities of antiquity. 

At last, after five days, an end was put to the conflagration at the
foot of the Esquiline hill, by the destruction of all buildings on
a vast space, so that the violence of the fire was met by clear ground
and an open sky. But before people had laid aside their fears, the
flames returned, with no less fury this second time, and especially
in the spacious districts of the city. Consequently, though there
was less loss of life, the temples of the gods, and the porticoes
which were devoted to enjoyment, fell in a yet more widespread ruin.
And to this conflagration there attached the greater infamy because
it broke out on the Aemilian property of Tigellinus, and it seemed
that Nero was aiming at the glory of founding a new city and calling
it by his name. Rome, indeed, is divided into fourteen districts,
four of which remained uninjured, three were levelled to the ground,
while in the other seven were left only a few shattered, half-burnt
relics of houses. 

It would not be easy to enter into a computation of the private mansions,
the blocks of tenements, and of the temples, which were lost. Those
with the oldest ceremonial, as that dedicated by Servius Tullius to
Luna, the great altar and shrine raised by the Arcadian Evander to
the visibly appearing Hercules, the temple of Jupiter the Stayer,
which was vowed by Romulus, Numa&apos;s royal palace, and the sanctuary
of Vesta, with the tutelary deities of the Roman people, were burnt.
So too were the riches acquired by our many victories, various beauties
of Greek art, then again the ancient and genuine historical monuments
of men of genius, and, notwithstanding the striking splendour of the
restored city, old men will remember many things which could not be
replaced. Some persons observed that the beginning of this conflagration
was on the 19th of July, the day on which the Senones captured and
fired Rome. Others have pushed a curious inquiry so far as to reduce
the interval between these two conflagrations into equal numbers of
years, months, and days. 

Nero meanwhile availed himself of his country&apos;s desolation, and erected
a mansion in which the jewels and gold, long familiar objects, quite
vulgarised by our extravagance, were not so marvellous as the fields
and lakes, with woods on one side to resemble a wilderness, and, on
the other, open spaces and extensive views. The directors and contrivers
of the work were Severus and Celer, who had the genius and the audacity
to attempt by art even what nature had refused, and to fool away an
emperor&apos;s resources. They had actually undertaken to sink a navigable
canal from the lake Avernus to the mouths of the Tiber along a barren
shore or through the face of hills, where one meets with no moisture
which could supply water, except the Pomptine marshes. The rest of
the country is broken rock and perfectly dry. Even if it could be
cut through, the labour would be intolerable, and there would be no
adequate result. Nero, however, with his love of the impossible, endeavoured
to dig through the nearest hills to Avernus, and there still remain
the traces of his disappointed hope. 

Of Rome meanwhile, so much as was left unoccupied by his mansion,
was not built up, as it had been after its burning by the Gauls, without
any regularity or in any fashion, but with rows of streets according
to measurement, with broad thoroughfares, with a restriction on the
height of houses, with open spaces, and the further addition of colonnades,
as a protection to the frontage of the blocks of tenements. These
colonnades Nero promised to erect at his own expense, and to hand
over the open spaces, when cleared of the debris, to the ground landlords.
He also offered rewards proportioned to each person&apos;s position and
property, and prescribed a period within which they were to obtain
them on the completion of so many houses or blocks of building. He
fixed on the marshes of Ostia for the reception of the rubbish, and
arranged that the ships which had brought up corn by the Tiber, should
sail down the river with cargoes of this rubbish. The buildings themselves,
to a certain height, were to be solidly constructed, without wooden
beams, of stone from Gabii or Alba, that material being impervious
to fire. And to provide that the water which individual license had
illegally appropriated, might flow in greater abundance in several
places for the public use, officers were appointed, and everyone was
to have in the open court the means of stopping a fire. Every building,
too, was to be enclosed by its own proper wall, not by one common
to others. These changes which were liked for their utility, also
added beauty to the new city. Some, however, thought that its old
arrangement had been more conducive to health, inasmuch as the narrow
streets with the elevation of the roofs were not equally penetrated
by the sun&apos;s heat, while now the open space, unsheltered by any shade,
was scorched by a fiercer glow. 

Such indeed were the precautions of human wisdom. The next thing was
to seek means of propitiating the gods, and recourse was had to the
Sibylline books, by the direction of which prayers were offered to
Vulcanus, Ceres, and Proserpina. Juno, too, was entreated by the matrons,
first, in the Capitol, then on the nearest part of the coast, whence
water was procured to sprinkle the fane and image of the goddess.
And there were sacred banquets and nightly vigils celebrated by married
women. But all human efforts, all the lavish gifts of the emperor,
and the propitiations of the gods, did not banish the sinister belief
that the conflagration was the result of an order. Consequently, to
get rid of the report, Nero fastened the guilt and inflicted the most
exquisite tortures on a class hated for their abominations, called
Christians by the populace. Christus, from whom the name had its origin,
suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands
of one of our procurators, Pontius Pilatus, and a most mischievous
superstition, thus checked for the moment, again broke out not only
in Judaea, the first source of the evil, but even in Rome, where all
things hideous and shameful from every part of the world find their
centre and become popular. Accordingly, an arrest was first made of
all who pleaded guilty; then, upon their information, an immense multitude
was convicted, not so much of the crime of firing the city, as of
hatred against mankind. Mockery of every sort was added to their deaths.
Covered with the skins of beasts, they were torn by dogs and perished,
or were nailed to crosses, or were doomed to the flames and burnt,
to serve as a nightly illumination, when daylight had expired.

Nero offered his gardens for the spectacle, and was exhibiting a show
in the circus, while he mingled with the people in the dress of a
charioteer or stood aloft on a car. Hence, even for criminals who
deserved extreme and exemplary punishment, there arose a feeling of
compassion; for it was not, as it seemed, for the public good, but
to glut one man&apos;s cruelty, that they were being destroyed.

Meanwhile Italy was thoroughly exhausted by contributions of money,
the provinces were ruined, as also the allied nations and the free
states, as they were called. Even the gods fell victims to the plunder;
for the temples in Rome were despoiled and the gold carried off, which,
for a triumph or a vow, the Roman people in every age had consecrated
in their prosperity or their alarm. Throughout Asia and Achaia not
only votive gifts, but the images of deities were seized, Acratus
and Secundus Carinas having been sent into those provinces. The first
was a freedman ready for any wickedness; the latter, as far as speech
went, was thoroughly trained in Greek learning, but he had not imbued
his heart with sound principles. Seneca, it was said, to avert from
himself the obloquy of sacrilege, begged for the seclusion of a remote
rural retreat, and, when it was refused, feigning ill health, as though
he had a nervous ailment, would not quit his chamber. According to
some writers, poison was prepared for him at Nero&apos;s command by his
own freedman, whose name was Cleonicus. This Seneca avoided through
the freedman&apos;s disclosure, or his own apprehension, while he used
to support life on the very simple diet of wild fruits, with water
from a running stream when thirst prompted. 

During the same time some gladiators in the town of Praeneste, who
attempted to break loose, were put down by a military guard stationed
on the spot to watch them, and the people, ever desirous and yet fearful
of change, began at once to talk of Spartacus, and of bygone calamities.
Soon afterwards, tidings of a naval disaster was received, but not
from war, for never had there been so profound a peace. Nero, however,
had ordered the fleet to return to Campania on a fixed day, without
making any allowance for the dangers of the sea. Consequently the
pilots, in spite of the fury of the waves, started from Formiae, and
while they were struggling to double the promontory of Misenum, they
were dashed by a violent south-west wind on the shores of Cumae, and
lost, in all directions, a number of their triremes with some smaller
vessels. 

At the close of the year people talked much about prodigies, presaging
impending evils. Never were lightning flashes more frequent, and a
comet too appeared, for which Nero always made propitiation with noble
blood. Human and other births with two heads were exposed to public
view, or were discovered in those sacrifices in which it is usual
to immolate victims in a pregnant condition. And in the district of
Placentia, close to the road, a calf was born with its head attached
to its leg. Then followed an explanation of the diviners, that another
head was preparing for the world, which however would be neither mighty
nor hidden, as its growth had been checked in the womb, and it had
been born by the wayside. 

Silius Nerva and Atticus Vestinus then entered on the consulship,
and now a conspiracy was planned, and at once became formidable, for
which senators, knights, soldiers, even women, had given their names
with eager rivalry, out of hatred of Nero as well as a liking for
Caius Piso. A descendant of the Calpurnian house, and embracing in
his connections through his father&apos;s noble rank many illustrious families,
Piso had a splendid reputation with the people from his virtue or
semblance of virtue. His eloquence he exercised in the defence of
fellow-citizens, his generosity towards friends, while even for strangers
he had a courteous address and demeanour. He had, too, the fortuitous
advantages of tall stature and a handsome face. But solidity of character
and moderation in pleasure were wholly alien to him. He indulged in
laxity, in display, and occasionally in excess. This suited the taste
of that numerous class who, when the attractions of vice are so powerful,
do not wish for strictness or special severity on the throne.

The origin of the conspiracy was not in Piso&apos;s personal ambition.
But I could not easily narrate who first planned it, or whose prompting
inspired a scheme into which so many entered. That the leading spirits
were Subrius Flavus, tribune of a praetorian cohort, and Sulpicius
Asper, a centurion, was proved by the fearlessness of their death.
Lucanus Annaeus, too, and Plautius Lateranus, imported into it an
intensely keen resentment. Lucanus had the stimulus of personal motives,
for Nero tried to disparage the fame of his poems and, with the foolish
vanity of a rival, had forbidden him to publish them. As for Lateranus,
a consul-elect, it was no wrong, but love of the State which linked
him with the others. Flavius Scaevinus and Afranius Quintianus, on
the other hand, both of senatorian rank, contrary to what was expected
of them, undertook the beginning of this daring crime. Scaevinus,
indeed, had enfeebled his mind by excess, and his life, accordingly,
was one of sleepy languor. Quintianus, infamous for his effeminate
vice, had been satirised by Nero in a lampoon, and was bent on avenging
the insult. 

So, while they dropped hints among themselves or among their friends
about the emperor&apos;s crimes, the approaching end of empire, and the
importance of choosing some one to rescue the State in its distress,
they associated with them Tullius Senecio, Cervarius Proculus, Vulcatius
Araricus, Julius Augurinus, Munatius Gratus, Antonius Natalis, and
Marcius Festus, all Roman knights. Of these Senecio, one of those
who was specially intimate with Nero, still kept up a show of friendship,
and had consequently to struggle with all the more dangers. Natalis
shared with Piso all his secret plans. The rest built their hopes
on revolution. Besides Subrius and Sulpicius, whom I have already
mentioned, they invited the aid of military strength, of Gavius Silvanus
and Statius Proximus, tribunes of praetorian cohorts, and of two centurions,
Maximus Scaurus and Venetus Paulus. But their mainstay, it was thought,
was Faenius Rufus, the commander of the guard, a man of esteemed life
and character, to whom Tigellinus with his brutality and shamelessness
was superior in the emperor&apos;s regard. He harassed him with calumnies,
and had often put him in terror by hinting that he had been Agrippina&apos;s
paramour, and from sorrow at her loss was intent on vengeance. And
so, when the conspirators were assured by his own repeated language
that the commander of the praetorian guard had come over to their
side, they once more eagerly discussed the time and place of the fatal
deed. It was said that Subrius Flavus had formed a sudden resolution
to attack Nero when singing on the stage, or when his house was in
flames and he was running hither and thither, unattended, in the darkness.
In the one case was the opportunity of solitude; in the other, the
very crowd which would witness so glorious a deed, had roused a singularly
noble soul; it was only the desire of escape, that foe to all great
enterprises, which held him back. 

Meanwhile, as they hesitated in prolonged suspense between hope and
fear, a certain Epicharis (how she informed herself is uncertain,
as she had never before had a thought of anything noble) began to
stir and upbraid the conspirators. Wearied at last of their long delay,
she endeavoured, when staying in Campania, to shake the loyalty of
the officers of the fleet at Misenum, and to entangle them in a guilty
complicity. She began thus. There was a captain in the fleet, Volusius
Proculus, who had been one of Nero&apos;s instruments in his mother&apos;s murder,
and had not, as he thought, been promoted in proportion to the greatness
of his crime. Either, as an old acquaintance of the woman, or on the
strength of a recent intimacy, he divulged to her his services to
Nero and their barren result to himself, adding complaints, and his
determination to have vengeance, should the chance arise. He thus
inspired the hope that he could be persuaded, and could secure many
others. No small help was to be found in the fleet, and there would
be numerous opportunities, as Nero delighted in frequent enjoyment
of the sea off Puteoli and Misenum. 

Epicharis accordingly said more, and began the history of all the
emperor&apos;s crimes. &quot;The Senate,&quot; she affirmed, &quot;had no power left it;
yet means had been provided whereby he might pay the penalty of having
destroyed the State. Only let Proculus gird himself to do his part
and bring over to their side his bravest soldiers, and then look for
an adequate recompense.&quot; The conspirators&apos; names, however, she withheld.
Consequently the information of Proculus was useless, even though
he reported what he had heard to Nero. For Epicharis being summoned
and confronted with the informer easily silenced him, unsupported
as he was by a single witness. But she was herself detained in custody,
for Nero suspected that even what was not proved to be true, was not
wholly false. 

The conspirators, however, alarmed by the fear of disclosure, resolved
to hurry on the assassination at Baiae, in Piso&apos;s villa, whither the
emperor, charmed by its loveliness, often went, and where, unguarded
and without the cumbrous grandeur of his rank, he would enjoy the
bath and the banquet. But Piso refused, alleging the odium of an act
which would stain with an emperor&apos;s blood, however bad he might be,
the sanctity of the hospitable board and the deities who preside over
it. &quot;Better,&quot; he said, &quot;in the capital, in that hateful mansion which
was piled up with the plunder of the citizens, or in public, to accomplish
what on the State&apos;s behalf they had undertaken.&quot; 

So he said openly, with however a secret apprehension that Lucius
Silanus might, on the strength of his distinguished rank and the teachings
of Caius Cassius, under whom he had been trained, aspire to any greatness
and seize an empire, which would be promptly offered him by all who
had no part in the conspiracy, and who would pity Nero as the victim
of a crime. Many thought that Piso shunned also the enterprising spirit
of Vestinus, the consul, who might, he feared, rise up in the cause
of freedom, or, by choosing another emperor, make the State his own
gift. Vestinus, indeed, had no share in the conspiracy, though Nero
on that charge gratified an old resentment against an innocent man.

At last they decided to carry out their design on that day of the
circus games, which is celebrated in honour of Ceres, as the emperor,
who seldom went out, and shut himself up in his house or gardens,
used to go to the entertainments of the circus, and access to him
was the easier from his keen enjoyment of the spectacle. They had
so arranged the order of the plot, that Lateranus was to throw himself
at the prince&apos;s knees in earnest entreaty, apparently craving relief
for his private necessities, and, being a man of strong nerve and
huge frame, hurl him to the ground and hold him down. When he was
prostrate and powerless, the tribunes and centurions and all the others
who had sufficient daring were to rush up and do the murder, the first
blow being claimed by Scaevinus, who had taken a dagger from the Temple
of Safety, or, according to another account, from that of Fortune,
in the town of Ferentum, and used to wear the weapon as though dedicated
to some noble deed. Piso, meanwhile, was wait in the sanctuary of
Ceres, whence he was to be summoned by Faenius, the commander of the
guard, and by the others, and then conveyed into the camp, accompanied
by Antonia, the daughter of Claudius Caesar, with a view to evoke
the people&apos;s enthusiasm. So it is related by Caius Pliny. Handed down
from whatever source, I had no intention of suppressing it, however
absurd it may seem, either that Antonia should have lent her name
at her life&apos;s peril to a hopeless project, or that Piso, with his
well-known affection for his wife, should have pledged himself to
another marriage, but for the fact that the lust of dominion inflames
the heart more than any other passion. 

It was however wonderful how among people of different class, rank,
age, sex, among rich and poor, everything was kept in secrecy till
betrayal began from the house of Scaevinus. The day before the treacherous
attempt, after a long conversation with Antonius Natalis, Scaevinus
returned home, sealed his will, and, drawing from its sheath the dagger
of which I have already spoken, and complaining that it was blunted
from long disuse, he ordered it to be sharpened on a stone to a keen
and bright point. This task he assigned to his freedman Milichus.
At the same time sat down to a more than usually sumptuous banquet,
and gave his favourite slaves their freedom, and money to others.
He was himself depressed, and evidently in profound thought, though
he affected gaiety in desultory conversation. Last of all, he directed
ligatures for wounds and the means of stanching blood to be prepared
by the same Milichus, who either knew of the conspiracy and was faithful
up to this point, or was in complete ignorance and then first caught
suspicions, as most authors have inferred from what followed. For
when his servile imagination dwelt on the rewards of perfidy, and
he saw before him at the same moment boundless wealth and power, conscience
and care for his patron&apos;s life, together with the remembrance of the
freedom he had received, fled from him. From his wife, too, he had
adopted a womanly and yet baser suggestion; for she even held over
him a dreadful thought, that many had been present, both freedmen
and slaves, who had seen what he had; that one man&apos;s silence would
be useless, whereas the rewards would be for him alone who was first
with the information. 

Accordingly at daybreak Milichus went to the Servilian gardens, and,
finding the doors shut against him, said again and again that he was
the bearer of important and alarming news. Upon this he was conducted
by the gatekeepers to one of Nero&apos;s freedmen, Epaphroditus, and by
him to Nero, whom he informed of the urgent danger, of the formidable
conspiracy, and of all else which he had heard or inferred. He showed
him too the weapon prepared for his destruction, and bade him summon
the accused. 

Scaevinus on being arrested by the soldiers began his defence with
the reply that the dagger about which he was accused, had of old been
regarded with a religious sentiment by his ancestors, that it had
been kept in his chamber, and been stolen by a trick of his freedman.
He had often, he said, signed his will without heeding the observance
of particular days, and had previously given presents of money as
well as freedom to some of his slaves, only on this occasion he gave
more freely, because, as his means were now impoverished and his creditors
were pressing him, he distrusted the validity of his will. Certainly
his table had always been profusely furnished, and his life luxurious,
such as rigid censors would hardly approve. As to the bandages for
wounds, none had been prepared at his order, but as all the man&apos;s
other charges were absurd, he added an accusation in which he might
make himself alike informer and witness. 

He backed up his words by an air of resolution. Turning on his accuser,
he denounced him as an infamous and depraved wretch, with so fearless
a voice and look that the information was beginning to collapse, when
Milichus was reminded by his wife that Antonious Natalis had had a
long secret conversation with Scaevinus, and that both were Piso&apos;s
intimate friends. 

Natalis was therefore summoned, and they were separately asked what
the conversation was, and what was its subject. Then a suspicion arose
because their answers did not agree, and they were both put in irons.
They could not endure the sight and the threat of torture. Natalis
however, taking the initiative, knowing as he did more of the whole
conspiracy, and being also more practised in accusing, first confessed
about Piso, next added the name of Annaeus Seneca, either as having
been a messenger between him and Piso, or to win the favour of Nero,
who hated Seneca and sought every means for his ruin. Then Scaevinus
too, when he knew the disclosure of Natalis, with like pusillanimity,
or under the impression that everything now divulged, and that there
could be no advantage in silence, revealed the other conspirators.
Of these, Lucanus, Quintianus, and Senecio long persisted in denial;
after a time, when bribed by the promise of impunity, anxious to excuse
their reluctance, Lucanus named his mother Atilla, Quintianus and
Senecio, their chief friends, respectively, Glitius Gallus and Annius
Pollio. 

Nero, meanwhile, remembering that Epicharis was in custody on the
information of Volusius Proculus, and assuming that a woman&apos;s frame
must be unequal to the agony, ordered her to be torn on the rack.
But neither the scourge nor fire, nor the fury of the men as they
increased the torture that they might not be a woman&apos;s scorn, overcame
her positive denial of the charge. Thus the first day&apos;s inquiry was
futile. On the morrow, as she was being dragged back on a chair to
the same torments (for with her limbs all dislocated she could not
stand), she tied a band, which she had stript off her bosom, in a
sort of noose to the arched back of the chair, put her neck in it,
and then straining with the whole weight of her body, wrung out of
her frame its little remaining breath. All the nobler was the example
set by a freedwoman at such a crisis in screening strangers and those
whom she hardly knew, when freeborn men, Roman knights, and senators,
yet unscathed by torture, betrayed, every one, his dearest kinsfolk.
For even Lucanus and Senecio and Quintianus failed not to reveal their
accomplices indiscriminately, and Nero was more and more alarmed,
though he had fenced his person with a largely augmented guard.

Even Rome itself he put, so to say, under custody, garrisoning its
walls with companies of soldiers and occupying with troops the coast
and the river-banks. Incessantly were there flying through the public
places, through private houses, country fields, and the neighbouring
villages, horse and foot soldiers, mixed with Germans, whom the emperor
trusted as being foreigners. In long succession, troops of prisoners
in chains were dragged along and stood at the gates of his gardens.
When they entered to plead their cause, a smile of joy on any of the
conspirators, a casual conversation, a sudden meeting, or the fact
of having entered a banquet or a public show in company, was construed
into a crime, while to the savage questionings of Nero and Tigellinus
were added the violent menaces of Faenius Rufus, who had not yet been
named by the informers, but who, to get the credit of complete ignorance,
frowned fiercely on his accomplices. When Subius Flavus at his side
asked him by a sign whether he should draw his sword in the middle
of the trial and perpetrate the fatal deed, Rufus refused, and checked
the man&apos;s impulse as he was putting his hand to his sword-hilt.

Some there were who, as soon as the conspiracy was betrayed, urged
Piso, while Milichus&apos; story was being heard, and Scaevinus was hesitating,
to go to the camp or mount the Rostra and test the feelings of the
soldiers and of the people. &quot;If,&quot; said they, &quot;your accomplices join
your enterprise, those also who are yet undecided, will follow, and
great will be the fame of the movement once started, and this in any
new scheme is all-powerful. Against it Nero has taken no precaution.
Even brave men are dismayed by sudden perils; far less will that stageplayer,
with Tigellinus forsooth and his concubines in his train, raise arms
against you. Many things are accomplished on trial which cowards think
arduous. It is vain to expect secrecy and fidelity from the varying
tempers and bodily constitutions of such a host of accomplices. Torture
or reward can overcome everything. Men will soon come to put you also
in chains and inflict on you an ignominious death. How much more gloriously
will you die while you cling to the State and invoke aid for liberty.
Rather let the soldiers fail, the people be traitors, provided that
you, if prematurely robbed of life, justify your death to your ancestors
and descendants.&quot; 

Unmoved by these considerations, Piso showed himself a few moments
in public, then sought the retirement of his house, and there fortified
his spirit against the worst, till a troop of soldiers arrived, raw
recruits, or men recently enlisted, whom Nero had selected, because
he was afraid of the veterans, imbued, though they were, with a liking
for him. Piso expired by having the veins in his arms severed. His
will, full of loathsome flatteries of Nero, was a concession to his
love of his wife, a base woman, with only a beautiful person to recommend
her, whom he had taken away from her husband, one of his friends.
Her name was Atria Galla; that of her former husband, Domitius Silus.
The tame spirit of the man, the profligacy of the woman, blazoned
Piso&apos;s infamy. 

In quick succession Nero added the murder of Plautius Lateranus, consul-elect,
so promptly that he did not allow him to embrace his children or to
have the brief choice of his own death. He was dragged off to a place
set apart for the execution of slaves, and butchered by the hand of
the tribune Statius, maintaining a resolute silence, and not reproaching
the tribune with complicity in the plot. 

Then followed the destruction of Annaeus Seneca, a special joy to
the emperor, not because he had convicted him of the conspiracy, but
anxious to accomplish with the sword what poison had failed to do.
It was, in fact, Natalis alone who divulged Seneca&apos;s name, to this
extent, that he had been sent to Seneca when ailing, to see him and
remonstrate with him for excluding Piso from his presence, when it
would have been better to have kept up their friendship by familiar
intercourse; that Seneca&apos;s reply was that mutual conversations and
frequent interviews were to the advantage of neither, but still that
his own life depended on Piso&apos;s safety. Gavius Silvanus, tribune of
a praetorian cohort, was ordered to report this to Seneca and to ask
him whether he acknowledged what Natalis said and his own answer.
Either by chance or purposely Seneca had returned on that day from
Campania, and had stopped at a countryhouse four miles from Rome.
Thither the tribune came next evening, surrounded the house with troops
of soldiers, and then made known the emperor&apos;s message to Seneca as
he was at dinner with his wife, Pompeia Paulina, and two friends.

Seneca replied that Natalis had been sent to him and had complained
to him in Piso&apos;s name because of his refusal to see Piso, upon which
he excused himself on the ground of failing health and the desire
of rest. &quot;He had no reason,&quot; he said, for &quot;preferring the interest
of any private citizen to his own safety, and he had no natural aptitude
for flattery. No one knew this better than Nero, who had oftener experienced
Seneca&apos;s freespokenness than his servility.&quot; When the tribune reported
this answer in the presence of Poppaea and Tigellinus, the emperor&apos;s
most confidential advisers in his moments of rage, he asked whether
Seneca was meditating suicide. Upon this the tribune asserted that
he saw no signs of fear, and perceived no sadness in his words or
in his looks. He was accordingly ordered to go back and to announce
sentence of death. Fabius Rusticus tells us that he did not return
the way he came, but went out of his course to Faenius, the commander
of the guard, and having explained to him the emperor&apos;s orders, and
asked whether he was to obey them, was by him admonished to carry
them out, for a fatal spell of cowardice was on them all. For this
very Silvanus was one of the conspirators, and he was now abetting
the crimes which he had united with them to avenge. But he spared
himself the anguish of a word or of a look, and merely sent in to
Seneca one of his centurions, who was to announce to him his last
doom. 

Seneca, quite unmoved, asked for tablets on which to inscribe his
will, and, on the centurion&apos;s refusal, turned to his friends, protesting
that as he was forbidden to requite them, he bequeathed to them the
only, but still the noblest possession yet remaining to him, the pattern
of his life, which, if they remembered, they would win a name for
moral worth and steadfast friendship. At the same time he called them
back from their tears to manly resolution, now with friendly talk,
and now with the sterner language of rebuke. &quot;Where,&quot; he asked again
and again, &quot;are your maxims of philosophy, or the preparation of so
many years&apos; study against evils to come? Who knew not Nero&apos;s cruelty?
After a mother&apos;s and a brother&apos;s murder, nothing remains but to add
the destruction of a guardian and a tutor.&quot; 

Having spoken these and like words, meant, so to say, for all, he
embraced his wife; then softening awhile from the stern resolution
of the hour, he begged and implored her to spare herself the burden
of perpetual sorrow, and, in the contemplation of a life virtuously
spent, to endure a husband&apos;s loss with honourable consolations. She
declared, in answer, that she too had decided to die, and claimed
for herself the blow of the executioner. There upon Seneca, not to
thwart her noble ambition, from an affection too which would not leave
behind him for insult one whom he dearly loved, replied: &quot;I have shown
you ways of smoothing life; you prefer the glory of dying. I will
not grudge you such a noble example. Let the fortitude of so courageous
an end be alike in both of us, but let there be more in your decease
to win fame.&quot; 

Then by one and the same stroke they sundered with a dagger the arteries
of their arms. Seneca, as his aged frame, attenuated by frugal diet,
allowed the blood to escape but slowly, severed also the veins of
his legs and knees. Worn out by cruel anguish, afraid too that his
sufferings might break his wife&apos;s spirit, and that, as he looked on
her tortures, he might himself sink into irresolution, he persuaded
her to retire into another chamber. Even at the last moment his eloquence
failed him not; he summoned his secretaries, and dictated much to
them which, as it has been published for all readers in his own words,
I forbear to paraphrase. 

Nero meanwhile, having no personal hatred against Paulina and not
wishing to heighten the odium of his cruelty, forbade her death. At
the soldiers&apos; prompting, her slaves and freedmen bound up her arms,
and stanched the bleeding, whether with her knowledge is doubtful.
For as the vulgar are ever ready to think the worst, there were persons
who believed that, as long as she dreaded Nero&apos;s relentlessness, she
sought the glory of sharing her husband&apos;s death, but that after a
time, when a more soothing prospect presented itself, she yielded
to the charms of life. To this she added a few subsequent years, with
a most praise worthy remembrance of her husband, and with a countenance
and frame white to a degree of pallor which denoted a loss of much
vital energy. 

Seneca meantime, as the tedious process of death still lingered on,
begged Statius Annaeus, whom he had long esteemed for his faithful
friendship and medical skill, to produce a poison with which he had
some time before provided himself, same drug which extinguished the
life of those who were condemned by a public sentence of the people
of Athens. It was brought to him and he drank it in vain, chilled
as he was throughout his limbs, and his frame closed against the efficacy
of the poison. At last he entered a pool of heated water, from which
he sprinkled the nearest of his slaves, adding the exclamation, &quot;I
offer this liquid as a libation to Jupiter the Deliverer.&quot; He was
then carried into a bath, with the steam of which he was suffocated,
and he was burnt without any of the usual funeral rites. So he had
directed in a codicil of his will, when even in the height of his
wealth and power he was thinking of his life&apos;s close. 

There was a rumour that Sabrius Flavus had held a secret consultation
with the centurions, and had planned, not without Seneca&apos;s knowledge,
that when Nero had been slain by Piso&apos;s instrumentality, Piso also
was to be murdered, and the empire handed over to Seneca, as a man
singled out for his splendid virtues by all persons of integrity.
Even a saying of Flavus was popularly current, &quot;that it mattered not
as to the disgrace if a harp-player were removed and a tragic actor
succeeded him.&quot; For as Nero used to sing to the harp, so did Piso
in the dress of a tragedian. 

The soldiers&apos; part too in the conspiracy no longer escaped discovery,
some in their rage becoming informers to betray Faenius Rufus, whom
they could not endure to be both an accomplice and a judge. Accordingly
Scaevinus, in answer to his browbeating and menaces, said with a smile
that no one knew more than he did, and actually urged him to show
gratitude to so good a prince. Faenius could not meet this with either
speech or silence. Halting in his words and visibly terror-stricken,
while the rest, especially Cervarius Proculus, a Roman knight, did
their utmost to convict him, he was, at the emperor&apos;s bidding, seized
and bound by Cassius, a soldier, who because of his well-known strength
of limb was in attendance. 

Shortly afterwards, the information of the same men proved fatal to
Subrius Flavus. At first he grounded his defence on his moral contrast
to the others, implying that an armed soldier, like himself, would
never have shared such an attempt with unarmed and effeminate associates.
Then, when he was pressed, he embraced the glory of a full confession.
Questioned by Nero as to the motives which had led him on to forget
his oath of allegiance, &quot;I hated you,&quot; he replied; &quot;yet not a soldier
was more loyal to you while you deserved to be loved. I began to hate
you when you became the murderer of your mother and your wife, a charioteer,
an actor, and an incendiary.&quot; I have given the man&apos;s very words, because
they were not, like those of Seneca, generally published, though the
rough and vigorous sentiments of a soldier ought to be no less known.

Throughout the conspiracy nothing, it was certain, fell with more
terror on the ears of Nero, who was as unused to be told of the crimes
he perpetrated as he was eager in their perpetration. The punishment
of Flavus was intrusted to Veianius Niger, a tribune. At his direction,
a pit was dug in a neighbouring field. Flavus, on seeing it, censured
it as too shallow and confined, saying to the soldiers around him,
&quot;Even this is not according to military rule.&quot; When bidden to offer
his neck resolutely, &quot;I wish,&quot; said he, &quot;that your stroke may be as
resolute.&quot; The tribune trembled greatly, and having only just severed
his head at two blows, vaunted his brutality to Nero, saying that
he had slain him with a blow and a half. 

Sulpicius Asper, a centurion, exhibited the next example of fortitude.
To Nero&apos;s question why he had conspired to murder him, he briefly
replied that he could not have rendered a better service to his infamous
career. He then underwent the prescribed penalty. Nor did the remaining
centurions forget their courage in suffering their punishment. But
Faenius Rufus had not equal spirit; he even put his laments into his
will. 

Nero waited in the hope that Vestinus also, the consul, whom he thought
an impetuous and deeply disaffected man, would be involved in the
charge. None however of the conspirators had shared their counsels
with him, some from old feuds against him, most because they considered
him a reckless and dangerous associate. Nero&apos;s hatred of him had had
its origin in intimate companionship, Vestinus seeing through and
despising the emperor&apos;s cowardice, while Nero feared the high spirit
of his friend, who often bantered him with that rough humour which,
when it draws largely on facts, leaves a bitter memory behind it.
There was too a recent aggravation in the circumstance of Vestinus
having married Statilia Messalina, without being ignorant that the
emperor was one of her paramours. 

As neither crime nor accuser appeared, Nero, being thus unable to
assume the semblance of a judge, had recourse to the sheer might of
despotism, and despatched Gerellanus, a tribune, with a cohort of
soldiers, and with orders to forestall the designs of the consul,
to seize what he might call his fortress, and crush his train of chosen
youths. For Vestinus had a house towering over the Forum, and a host
of handsome slaves of the same age. On that day he had performed all
his duties as consul, and was entertaining some guests, fearless of
danger, or perhaps by way of hiding his fears, when the soldiers entered
and announced to him the tribune&apos;s summons. He rose without a moment&apos;s
delay, and every preparation was at once made. He shut himself into
his chamber; a physician was at his side; his veins were opened; with
life still strong in him, he was carried into a bath, and plunged
into warm water, without uttering a word of pity for himself. Meanwhile
the guards surrounded those who had sat at his table, and it was only
at a late hour of the night that they were dismissed, when Nero, having
pictured to himself and laughed over their terror at the expectation
of a fatal end to their banquet, said that they had suffered enough
punishment for the consul&apos;s entertainment. 

Next he ordered the destruction of Marcus Annaeus Lucanus. As the
blood flowed freely from him, and he felt a chill creeping through
his feet and hands, and the life gradually ebbing from his extremities,
though the heart was still warm and he retained his mental power,
Lucanus recalled some poetry he had composed in which he had told
the story of a wounded soldier dying a similar kind of death, and
he recited the very lines. These were his last words. After him, Senecio,
Quintianus, and Scaevinus perished, not in the manner expected from
the past effeminacy of their life, and then the remaining conspirators,
without deed or word deserving record. 

Rome all this time was thronged with funerals, the Capitol with sacrificial
victims. One after another, on the destruction of a brother, a kinsman,
or a friend, would return thanks to the gods, deck his house with
laurels, prostrate himself at the knees of the emperor, and weary
his hand with kisses. He, in the belief that this was rejoicing, rewarded
with impunity the prompt informations of Antonius Natalis and Cervarius
Proculus. Milichus was enriched with gifts and assumed in its Greek
equivalent the name of Saviour. Of the tribunes, Gavius Silvanus,
though acquitted, perished by his own hand; Statius Proximus threw
away the benefit of the pardon he had accepted from the emperor by
the folly of his end. Cornelius Martialis, Flavius Nepos, Statius
Domitius were then deprived of the tribuneship, on the ground, not
of actually hating the emperor, but of having the credit of it. Novius
Priscus, as Seneca&apos;s friend, Glitius Gallus, and Annius Pollio, as
men disgraced rather than convicted, escaped with sentences of banishment.
Priscus and Gallus were accompanied respectively by their wives, Artoria
Flaccilla and Egnatia Maximilla. The latter possessed at first a great
fortune, still unimpaired, and was subsequently deprived of it, both
which circumstances enhanced her fame. 

Rufius Crispinus too was banished, on the opportune pretext of the
conspiracy, but he was in fact hated by Nero, because he had once
been Poppaea&apos;s husband. It was the splendour of their name which drove
Verginius Flavus and Musonius Rufus into exile. Verginius encouraged
the studies of our youth by his eloquence; Rufus by the teachings
of philosophy. Cluvidienus Quietus, Julius Agrippa, Blitius Catulinus,
Petronius Priscus, Julius Altinus, mere rank and file, so to say,
had islands in the Aegean Sea assigned to them. Caedicia, the wife
of Scaevinus, and Caesonius Maximus were forbidden to live in Italy,
their penalty being the only proof they had of having been accused.
Atilla, the mother of Annaeus Lucanus, without either acquittal or
punishment, was simply ignored. 

All this having been completed, Nero assembled the troops and distributed
two thousand sesterces to every common soldier, with an addition of
as much corn without payment, as they had previously the use of at
the market price. Then, as if he was going to describe successes in
war, he summoned the Senate, and awarded triumphal honours to Petronius
Turpilianus, an ex-consul, to Cocceius Nerva, praetor-elect, and to
Tigellinus, commander of the praetorians. Tigellinus and Nerva he
so distinguished as to place busts of them in the palace in addition
to triumphal statues in the Forum. He granted a consul&apos;s decorations
to Nymphidius, on whose origin, as he now appears for the first time,
I will briefly touch. For he too will be a part of Rome&apos;s calamities.

The son of a freedwoman, who had prostituted a handsome person among
the slaves and freedmen of the emperors, he gave out that he was the
offspring of Caius Caesar, for he happened to be of tall stature and
to have a fierce look, or possibly Caius Caesar, who liked even harlots,
had also amused himself with the man&apos;s mother. 

Nero meanwhile summoned the Senate, addressed them in a speech, and
further added a proclamation to the people, with the evidence which
had been entered on records, and the confessions of the condemned.
He was indeed perpetually under the lash of popular talk, which said
that he had destroyed men perfectly innocent out of jealousy or fear.
However, that a conspiracy was begun, matured, and conclusively proved
was not doubted at the time by those who took pains to ascertain the
truth, and is admitted by those who after Nero&apos;s death returned to
the capital. When every one in the Senate, those especially who had
most cause to mourn, abased himself in flattery, Salienus Clemens
denounced Junius Gallio, who was terror-stricken at his brother Seneca&apos;s
death was pleading for his life. He called him an enemy and traitor
to the State, till the unanimous voice of the senators deterred him
from perverting public miseries into an occasion for a personal resentment,
and thus importing fresh bitterness into what by the prince&apos;s clemency
had been hushed up or forgotten. 

Then offerings and thanksgivings to the gods were decreed, with special
honours to the Sun, who has an ancient temple in the circus where
the crime was planned, as having revealed by his power the secrets
of the conspiracy. The games too of Ceres in the circus were to be
celebrated with more horse-races, and the month of April was to be
called after the name of Nero. A temple also was to be erected to
Safety, on the spot whence Scaevinus had taken his dagger. The emperor
himself dedicated the weapon in the temple of the capital, and inscribed
on it, &quot;To Jupiter the Avenger.&quot; This passed without notice at the
moment, but after the war of Julius Vindex it was construed as an
omen and presage of impending vengeance. I find in the registers of
the Senate that Cerialis Anicius, consul-elect, proposed a motion
that a temple should as soon as possible be built at the public expense
to the Divine Nero. He implied indeed by this proposal that the prince
had transcended all mortal grandeur and deserved the adoration of
mankind. Some however interpreted it as an omen of his death, seeing
that divine honours are not paid to an emperor till he has ceased
to live among men. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

BOOK XVI

A.D. 65, 66 

Fortune soon afterwards made a dupe of Nero through his own credulity
and the promises of Caesellius Bassus, a Carthaginian by birth and
a man of a crazed imagination, who wrested a vision seen in the slumber
of night into a confident expectation. He sailed to Rome, and having
purchased admission to the emperor, he explained how he had discovered
on his land a cave of immense depth, which contained a vast quantity
of gold, not in the form of coin, but in the shapeless and ponderous
masses of ancient days. In fact, he said, ingots of great weight lay
there, with bars standing near them in another part of the cave, a
treasure hidden for so many ages to increase the wealth of the present.
Phoenician Dido, as he sought to show by inference, after fleeing
from Tyre and founding Carthage, had concealed these riches in the
fear that a new people might be demoralised by a superabundance of
money, or that the Numidian kings, already for other reasons hostile,
might by lust of gold be provoked to war. 

Nero upon this, without sufficiently examining the credibility of
the author of the story, or of the matter itself, or sending persons
through whom he might ascertain whether the intelligence was true,
himself actually encouraged the report and despatched men to bring
the spoil, as if it were already acquired. They had triremes assigned
them and crews specially selected to promote speed. Nothing else at
the time was the subject of the credulous gossip of the people, and
of the very different conversation of thinking persons. It happened,
too, that the quinquennial games were being celebrated for the second
time, and the orators took from this same incident their chief materials
for eulogies on the emperor. &quot;Not only,&quot; they said, &quot;were there the
usual harvests, and the gold of the mine with its alloy, but the earth
now teemed with a new abundance, and wealth was thrust on them by
the bounty of the gods.&quot; These and other servile flatteries they invented,
with consummate eloquence and equal sycophancy, confidently counting
on the facility of his belief. 

Extravagance meanwhile increased, on the strength of a chimerical
hope, and ancient wealth was wasted, as apparently the emperor had
lighted on treasures he might squander for many a year. He even gave
away profusely from this source, and the expectation of riches was
one of the causes of the poverty of the State. Bassus indeed dug up
his land and extensive plains in the neighbourhood, while he persisted
that this or that was the place of the promised cave, and was followed
not only by our soldiers but by the rustic population who were engaged
to execute the work, till at last he threw off his infatuation, and
expressing wonder that his dreams had never before been false, and
that now for the first time he had been deluded, he escaped disgrace
and danger by a voluntary death. Some have said that he was imprisoned
and soon released, his property having been taken from him as a substitute
for the royal treasure. 

Meanwhile the Senate, as they were now on the eve of the quinquennial
contest, wishing to avert scandal, offered the emperor the &quot;victory
in song,&quot; and added the &quot;crown of eloquence,&quot; that thus a veil might
be thrown over a shameful exposure on the stage. Nero, however, repeatedly
declared that he wanted neither favour nor the Senate&apos;s influence,
as he was a match for his rivals, and was certain, in the conscientious
opinion of the judges, to win the honour by merit. First, he recited
a poem on the stage; then, at the importunate request of the rabble
that he would make public property of all his accomplishments (these
were their words), he entered the theatre, and conformed to all the
laws of harp-playing, not sitting down when tired, nor wiping off
the perspiration with anything but the garment he wore, or letting
himself be seen to spit or clear his nostrils. Last of all, on bended
knee he saluted the assembly with a motion of the hand, and awaited
the verdict of the judges with pretended anxiety. And then the city-populace,
who were wont to encourage every gesture even of actors, made the
place ring with measured strains of elaborate applause. One would
have thought they were rejoicing, and perhaps they did rejoice, in
their indifference to the public disgrace. 

All, however, who were present from remote towns, and still retained
the Italy of strict morals and primitive ways; all too who had come
on embassies or on private business from distant provinces, where
they had been unused to such wantonness, were unable to endure the
spectacle or sustain the degrading fatigue, which wearied their unpractised
hands, while they disturbed those who knew their part, and were often
struck by soldiers, stationed in the seats, to see that not a moment
of time passed with less vigorous applause or in the silence of indifference.
It was a known fact that several knights, in struggling through the
narrow approaches and the pressure of the crowd, were trampled to
death, and that others while keeping their seats day and night were
seized with some fatal malady. For it was a still worse danger to
be absent from the show, as many openly and many more secretly made
it their business to scrutinize names and faces, and to note the delight
or the disgust of the company. Hence came cruel severities, immediately
exercised on the humble, and resentments, concealed for the moment,
but subsequently paid off, towards men of distinction. There was a
story that Vespasian was insulted by Phoebus, a freedman, for closing
his eyes in a doze, and that having with difficulty been screened
by the intercessions of the well disposed, he escaped imminent destruction
through his grander destiny. 

After the conclusion of the games Poppaea died from a casual outburst
of rage in her husband, who felled her with a kick when she was pregnant.
That there was poison I cannot believe, though some writers so relate,
from hatred rather than from belief, for the emperor was desirous
of children, and wholly swayed by love of his wife. Her body was not
consumed by fire according to Roman usage, but after the custom of
foreign princes was filled with fragrant spices and embalmed, and
then consigned to the sepulchre of the Julii. She had, however, a
public funeral, and Nero himself from the rostra eulogized her beauty,
her lot in having been the mother of a deified child, and fortune&apos;s
other gifts, as though they were virtues. 

To the death of Poppaea, which, though a public grief, was a delight
to those who recalling the past thought of her shamelessness and cruelty,
Nero added fresh and greater odium by forbidding Caius Cassius to
attend the funeral. This was the first token of mischief. Nor was
it long delayed. Silanus was coupled with Cassius, no crime being
alleged, but that Cassius was eminent for his ancestral wealth and
dignity of character, Silanus for the nobility of his birth and the
quiet demeanour of his youth. The emperor accordingly sent the Senate
a speech in which he argued that both ought to be removed from the
State, and made it a reproach against Cassius that among his ancestors&apos;
busts he had specially revered that of Caius Cassius, which bore the
inscription &quot;to the Party-Leader.&quot; In fact, he had thereby sought
to sow the seeds of civil war and revolt from the House of the Caesars.
And that he might not merely avail himself of the memory of a hated
name to stir up strife, he had associated with him Lucius Silanus,
a youth of noble birth and reckless spirit, to whom he might point
as an instrument of revolution. 

Nero next denounced Silanus himself in the same terms as he had his
uncle Torquatus, implying that he was already arranging the details
of imperial business, and setting freedmen to manage his accounts,
papers, and correspondence, imputations utterly groundless and false.
Silanus, in truth, was intensely apprehensive, and had been frightened
into caution by his uncle&apos;s destruction. Nero then procured persons,
under the name of informers, to invent against Lepida, the wife of
Cassius and aunt of Silanus, a charge of incest with her brother&apos;s
son, and of some ghastly religious ceremonial. Volcatius Tullinus,
and Marcellus Cornelius, senators, and Fabatus, a Roman knight, were
drawn in as accomplices. By an appeal to the emperor these men eluded
an impending doom and subsequently, as being too insignificant, escaped
from Nero, who was busy with crimes on a far greater scale.

The Senate was then consulted and sentences of exile were passed on
Cassius and Silanus. As to Lepida, the emperor was to decide. Cassius
was transported to the island of Sardinia, and he was quietly left
to old age. Silanus was removed to Ostia, whence, it was pretended,
he was to be conveyed to Naxos. He was afterwards confined in a town
of Apulia named Barium. There, as he was wisely enduring a most undeserved
calamity, he was suddenly seized by a centurion sent to slay him.
When the man advised him to sever his veins, he replied that, though
he had resolved in his heart to die, he would not let a cutthroat
have the glory of the service. The centurion seeing that, unarmed
as he was, he was very powerful, and more an enraged than a frightened
man, ordered his soldiers to overpower him. And Silanus failed not
to resist and to strike blows, as well as he could with his bare hands,
till he was cut down by the centurion, as though in battle, with wounds
in his breast. 

With equal courage Lucius Vetus, his mother-in-law Sextia, and his
daughter Pollutia submitted to death. They were hated by the emperor
because they seemed a living reproach to him for the murder of Rubellius
Plautus, son-in-law of Lucius Vetus. But the first opportunity of
unmasking his savage wrath was furnished by Fortunatus, a freedman,
who having embezzled his patron&apos;s property, deserted him to become
his accuser. He had as his accomplice Claudius Demianus, whom Vetus,
when proconsul of Asia, had imprisoned for his gross misdeeds, and
whom Nero now released as a recompense for the accusation.

When the accused knew this and saw that he and his freedman were pitted
against each other on an equal footing, he retired to his estate at
Formiae. There he was put under the secret surveillance of soldiers.
With him was his daughter, who, to say nothing of the now imminent
peril, had all the fury of a long grief ever since she had seen the
murderers of her husband Plautus. She had clasped his bleeding neck,
and still kept by her the blood-stained apparel, clinging in her widowhood
to perpetual sorrow, and using only such nourishment as might suffice
to avert starvation. Then at her father&apos;s bidding she went to Neapolis.
And as she was forbidden to approach Nero, she would haunt his doors;
and implore him to hear an innocent man, and not surrender to a freedman
one who had once been his colleague in the consulship, now pleading
with the cries of a woman, now again forgetting her sex and lifting
up her voice in a tone of menace, till the emperor showed himself
unmoved alike by entreaty and reproach. 

She therefore told her father by message that she cast hope aside
and yielded to necessity. He was at the same time informed that judicial
proceedings in the Senate and a dreadful sentence were hanging over
him. Some there were who advised him to name the emperor as his chief
heir, and so secure the remainder for his grandchildren. But he spurned
the notion, and unwilling to disgrace a life which had clung to freedom
by a final act of servility, he bestowed on his slaves all his ready
money, and ordered each to convey away for himself whatever he could
carry, leaving only three couches for the last scene. Then in the
same chamber, with the same weapon, they sundered their veins, and
speedily hurried into a bath, covered each, as delicacy required,
with a single garment, the father gazing intently on his daughter,
the grandmother on her grandchild, she again on both, while with rival
earnestness they prayed that the ebbing life might have a quick departure,
each wishing to leave a relative still surviving, but just on the
verge of death. Fortune preserved the due order; the oldest died first,
then the others according to priority of age. They were prosecuted
after their burial, and the sentence was that &quot;they should be punished
in ancient fashion.&quot; Nero interposed his veto, allowing them to die
without his interference. Such were the mockeries added to murders
already perpetrated. 

Publius Gallus, a Roman knight, was outlawed for having been intimate
with Faenius Rufus and somewhat acquainted with Vetus. To the freedman
who was the accuser, was given, as a reward for his service, a seat
in the theatre among the tribune&apos;s officers. The month too following
April, or Neroneus, was changed from Maius into the name of Claudius,
and Junius into that of Germanicus, Cornelius Orfitus, the proposer
of the motion, publicly declaring that the month Junius had been passed
over because the execution of the two Torquati for their crimes had
now rendered its name inauspicious. 

A year of shame and of so many evil deeds heaven also marked by storms
and pestilence. Campania was devastated by a hurricane, which destroyed
everywhere countryhouses, plantations and crops, and carried its fury
to the neighbourhood of Rome, where a terrible plague was sweeping
away all classes of human beings without any such derangement of the
atmosphere as to be visibly apparent. Yet the houses were filled with
lifeless forms and the streets with funerals. Neither age nor sex
was exempt from peril. Slaves and the free-born populace alike were
suddenly cut off, amid the wailings of wives and children, who were
often consumed on the very funeral pile of their friends by whom they
had been sitting and shedding tears. Knights and senators perished
indiscriminately, and yet their deaths were less deplored because
they seemed to forestal the emperor&apos;s cruelty by an ordinary death.
That same year levies of troops were held in Narbon Gaul, Africa and
Asia, to fill up the legions of Illyricum, all soldiers in which,
worn out by age or ill-health, were receiving their discharge. Lugdunum
was consoled by the prince for a ruinous disaster by a gift of four
million sesterces, so that what was lost to the city might be replaced.
Its people had previously offered this same amount for the distresses
of Rome. 

In the consulship of Caius Suetonius and Lucius Telesinus, Antistius
Sosianus, who, as I have stated, had been punished with exile for
repeated satires on Nero, having heard that there was such honour
for informers and that the emperor was so partial to bloodshed, being
himself too of a restless temper and quick to seize opportunities,
made a friend of a man in like condition with himself, one Pammenes,
an exile in the same place, noted for his skill as an astrologer,
and consequently bound to many in close intimacy. He thought there
must be a meaning in the frequent messages and the consultations,
and he learnt at the same time that an annual payment was furnished
him by Publius Anteius. He knew too that Anteius was hated by Nero
for his love of Agrippina, and that his wealth was sufficiently conspicuous
to provoke cupidity, and that this was the cause of the destruction
of many. Accordingly he intercepted a letter from Anteius, and having
also stolen some notes about the day of his nativity and his future
career, which were hidden away among Pammenes&apos; secret papers, and
having further discovered some remarks on the birth and life of Ostorius
Scapula, he wrote to the emperor that he would communicate important
news which would contribute to his safety, if he could but obtain
a brief reprieve of his exile. Anteius and Ostorius were, he hinted,
grasping at empire and prying into the destinies of themselves and
of the prince. Some swift galleys were then despatched and Sosianus
speedily arrived. On the disclosure of his information, Anteius and
Ostorius were classed with condemned criminals rather than with men
on their trial, so completely, indeed, that no one would attest the
will of Anteius, till Tigellinus interposed to sanction it. Anteius
had been previously advised by him not to delay this final document.
Then he drank poison, but disgusted at its slowness, he hastened death
by severing his veins. 

Ostorius was living at the time on a remote estate on the Ligurian
frontier. Thither a centurion was despatched to hurry on his destruction.
There was a motive for promptitude arising out of the fact that Ostorius,
with his great military fame and the civic crown he had won in Britain,
possessed, too, as he was of huge bodily strength and skill in arms,
had made Nero, who was always timid and now more frightened than ever
by the lately discovered conspiracy, fearful of a sudden attack. So
the centurion, having barred every exit from the house, disclosed
the emperor&apos;s orders to Ostorius. That fortitude which he had often
shown in fighting the enemy Ostorius now turned against himself. And
as his veins, though severed, allowed but a scanty flow of blood,
he used the help of a slave, simply to hold up a dagger firmly, and
then pressing the man&apos;s hand towards him, he met the point with his
throat. 

Even if I had to relate foreign wars and deaths encountered in the
service of the State with such a monotony of disaster, I should myself
have been overcome by disgust, while I should look for weariness in
my readers, sickened as they would be by the melancholy and continuous
destruction of our citizens, however glorious to themselves. But now
a servile submissiveness and so much wanton bloodshed at home fatigue
the mind and paralyze it with grief. The only indulgence I would ask
from those who will acquaint themselves with these horrors is that
I be not thought to hate men who perished so tamely. Such was the
wrath of heaven against the Roman State that one may not pass over
it with a single mention, as one might the defeat of armies and the
capture of cities. Let us grant this privilege to the posterity of
illustrious men, that just as in their funeral obsequies such men
are not confounded in a common burial, so in the record of their end
they may receive and retain a special memorial. 

Within a few days, in quick succession, Annaeus Mela, Cerialis Anicius,
Rufius Crispinus, and Petronius fell, Mela and Crispinus being Roman
knights with senatorian rank. The latter had once commanded the praetorians
and had been rewarded with the decorations of the consulate. He had
lately been banished to Sardinia on a charge of conspiracy, and on
receiving a message that he was doomed to die had destroyed himself.
Mela, son of the same parents as Gallio and Seneca, had refrained
from seeking promotion out of a perverse vanity which wished to raise
a Roman knight to an equality with ex-consuls. He also thought that
there was a shorter road to the acquisition of wealth through offices
connected with the administration of the emperor&apos;s private business.
He had too in his son Annaeus Lucanus a powerful aid in rising to
distinction. After the death of Lucanus, he rigorously called in the
debts due to his estate, and thereby provoked an accuser in the person
of Fabius Romanus, one of the intimate friends of Lucanus. A story
was invented that the father and son shared between them a knowledge
of the conspiracy, and a letter was forged in Lucanus&apos;s name. This
Nero examined, and ordered it to be conveyed to Mela, whose wealth
he ravenously desired. Mela meanwhile, adopting the easiest mode of
death then in fashion, opened his veins, after adding a codicil to
his will bequeathing an immense amount to Tigellinus and his son-in-law,
Cossutianus Capito, in order to save the remainder. In this codicil
he is also said to have written, by way of remonstrance against the
injustice of his death, that he died without any cause for punishment,
while Rufius Crispinus and Anicius Cerialis still enjoyed life, though
bitter foes to the prince. It was thought that he had invented this
about Crispinus, because the man had been already murdered; about
Cerialis, with the object of procuring his murder. Soon afterwards
Cerialis laid violent hands on himself, and received less pity than
the others, because men remembered that he had betrayed a conspiracy
to Caius Caesar. 

With regard to Caius Petronius, I ought to dwell a little on his antecedents.
His days he passed in sleep, his nights in the business and pleasures
of life. Indolence had raised him to fame, as energy raises others,
and he was reckoned not a debauchee and spendthrift, like most of
those who squander their substance, but a man of refined luxury. And
indeed his talk and his doings, the freer they were and the more show
of carelessness they exhibited, were the better liked, for their look
of natural simplicity. Yet as proconsul of Bithynia and soon afterwards
as consul, he showed himself a man of vigour and equal to business.
Then falling back into vice or affecting vice, he was chosen by Nero
to be one of his few intimate associates, as a critic in matters of
taste, while the emperor thought nothing charming or elegant in luxury
unless Petronius had expressed to him his approval of it. Hence jealousy
on the part of Tigellinus, who looked on him as a rival and even his
superior in the science of pleasure. And so he worked on the prince&apos;s
cruelty, which dominated every other passion, charging Petronius with
having been the friend of Scaevinus, bribing a slave to become informer,
robbing him of the means of defence, and hurrying into prison the
greater part of his domestics. 

It happened at the time that the emperor was on his way Campania and
that Petronius, after going as far as Cumae, was there detained. He
bore no longer the suspense of fear or of hope. Yet he did not fling
away life with precipitate haste, but having made an incision in his
veins and then, according to his humour, bound them up, he again opened
them, while he conversed with his friends, not in a serious strain
or on topics that might win for him the glory of courage. And he listened
to them as they repeated, not thoughts on the immortality of the soul
or on the theories of philosophers, but light poetry and playful verses.
To some of his slaves he gave liberal presents, a flogging to others.
He dined, indulged himself in sleep, that death, though forced on
him, might have a natural appearance. Even in his will he did not,
as did many in their last moments, flatter Nero or Tigellinus or any
other of the men in power. On the contrary, he described fully the
prince&apos;s shameful excesses, with the names of his male and female
companions and their novelties in debauchery, and sent the account
under seal to Nero. Then he broke his signet-ring, that it might not
be subsequently available for imperilling others. 

When Nero was in doubt how the ingenious varieties of his nightly
revels became notorious, Silia came into his mind, who, as a senator&apos;s
wife, was a conspicuous person, and who had been his chosen associate
in all his profligacy and was very intimate with Petronius. She was
banished for not having, as was suspected, kept secret what she had
seen and endured, a sacrifice to his personal resentment. Minucius
Thermus, an ex-praetor, he surrendered to the hate of Tigellinus,
because a freedman of Thermus had brought criminal charges against
Tigellinus, such that the man had to atone for them himself by the
torture of the rack, his patron by an undeserved death. 

Nero after having butchered so many illustrious men, at last aspired
to extirpate virtue itself by murdering Thrasea Paetus and Barea Soranus.
Both men he had hated of old, Thrasea on additional grounds, because
he had walked out of the Senate when Agrippina&apos;s case was under discussion,
as I have already related, and had not given the Juvenile games any
conspicuous encouragement. Nero&apos;s displeasure at this was the deeper,
since this same Thrasea had sung in a tragedian&apos;s dress at Patavium,
his birth-place, in some games instituted by the Trojan Antenor. On
the day, too, on which the praetor Antistius was being sentenced to
death for libels on Nero, Thrasea proposed and carried a more merciful
decision. Again, when divine honours were decreed to Poppaea, he was
purposely absent and did not attend her funeral. All this Capito Cossutianus
would not allow to be forgotten. He had a heart eager for the worst
wickedness, and he also bore ill-will to Thrasea, the weight of whose
influence had crushed him, while envoys from Cilicia, supported by
Thrasea&apos;s advocacy, were accusing him of extortion. 

He alleged, too, against him the following charges:- &quot;Thrasea,&quot; he
said, &quot;at the beginning of the year always avoided the usual oath
of allegiance; he was not present at the recital of the public prayers,
though he had been promoted to the priesthood of the Fifteen; he had
never offered a sacrifice for the safety of the prince or for his
heavenly voice. Though formerly he had been assiduous and unwearied
in showing himself a supporter or an opponent even of the most ordinary
motions of senators, he had not entered the Senate-house for three
years, and very lately, when all were rushing thither with rival eagerness
to put down Silanus and Vetus, he had attended by preference to the
private business of his clients. This was political schism, and, should
many dare to do the like, it was actual war.&quot; 

Capito further added, &quot;The country in its eagerness for discord is
now talking of you, Nero, and of Thrasea, as it talked once of Caius
Caesar and Marcus Cato. Thrasea has his followers or rather his satellites,
who copy, not indeed as yet the audacious tone of his sentiments,
but only his manners and his looks, a sour and gloomy set, bent on
making your mirthfulness a reproach to you. He is the only man who
cares not for your safety, honours not your accomplishments. The prince&apos;s
prosperity he despises. Can it be that he is not satisfied with your
sorrows and griefs? It shows the same spirit not to believe in Poppaea&apos;s
divinity as to refuse to swear obedience to the acts of the Divine
Augustus and the Divine Julius. He contemns religious rites; he annuls
laws. The daily records of the Roman people are read attentively in
the provinces and the armies that they may know what Thrasea has not
done. 

&quot;Either let us go over to his system, if it is better than ours, or
let those who desire change have their leader and adviser taken from
them. That sect of his gave birth to the Tuberones and Favonii, names
hateful even to the old republic. They make a show of freedom, to
overturn the empire; should they destroy it, they will attack freedom
itself. In vain have you banished Cassius, if you are going to allow
rivals of the Bruti to multiply and flourish. Finally, write nothing
yourself about Thrasea; leave the Senate to decide for us.&quot; Nero further
stimulated the eager wrath of Cossutianus, and associated with him
the pungent eloquence of Marcellus Eprius. 

As for the impeachment of Barea Soranus, Ostorius Sabinus, a Roman
knight, had already claimed it for himself. It arose out of his proconsulate
of Asia, where he increased the prince&apos;s animosity by his uprightness
and diligence, as well as by having bestowed pains on opening the
port of Ephesus and passed over without punishment the violence of
the citizens of Pergamos in their efforts to hinder Acratus, one of
the emperor&apos;s freedmen, from carrying off statues and pictures. But
the crime imputed to him was friendship with Plautus and intrigues
to lure the province into thoughts of revolt. The time chosen for
the fatal sentence was that at which Tiridates was on his way to receive
the sovereignty of Armenia, so that crime at home might be partially
veiled amid rumours on foreign affairs, or that Nero might display
his imperial grandeur by the murder of illustrious men, as though
it were a kingly exploit. 

Accordingly when all Rome rushed out to welcome the emperor and see
the king, Thrasea, though forbidden to appear, did not let his spirit
be cast down, but wrote a note to Nero, in which he demanded to know
the charges against him, and asserted that he would clear himself,
if he were informed of the crimes alleged and had an opportunity of
refuting them. This note Nero received with eagerness, in the hope
that Thrasea in dismay had written something to enhance the emperor&apos;s
glory and to tarnish his own honour. When it turned out otherwise,
and he himself, on the contrary, dreaded the glance and the defiant
independence of the guiltless man, he ordered the Senate to be summoned.

Thrasea then consulted his most intimate friends whether he should
attempt or spurn defence. Conflicting advice was offered. Those who
thought it best for him to enter the Senate house said that they counted
confidently on his courage, and were sure that he would say nothing
but what would heighten his renown. &quot;It was for the feeble and timid
to invest their last moments with secrecy. Let the people behold a
man who could meet death. Let the Senate hear words, almost of divine
inspiration, more than human. It was possible that the very miracle
might impress even a Nero. But should he persist in his cruelty, posterity
would at least distinguish between the memory of an honourable death
and the cowardice of those who perished in silence.&quot; 

Those, on the other hand, who thought that he ought to wait at home,
though their opinion of him was the same, hinted that mockeries and
insults were in store for him. &quot;Spare your ears&quot; they said, &quot;taunts
and revilings. Not only are Cossutianus and Eprius eagerly bent on
crime; there are numbers more, daring enough, perchance, to raise
the hand of violence in their brutality. Even good men through fear
do the like. Better save the Senate which you have adorned to the
last the infamy of such an outrage, and leave it a matter of doubt
what the senators would have decided, had they seen Thrasea on his
trial. It is with a vain hope we are aiming to touch Nero with shame
for his abominations, and we have far more cause to fear that he will
vent his fury on your wife, your household, on all others dear to
you. And therefore, while you are yet stainless and undisgraced, seek
to close life with the glory of those in whose track and pursuits
you have passed it.&quot; 

Present at this deliberation was Rusticus Arulenus, an enthusiastic
youth, who, in his ardour for renown, offered, as he was tribune of
the people, to protest against the sentence of the Senate. Thrasea
checked his impetuous temper, not wishing him to attempt what would
be as futile, and useless to the accused, as it would be fatal to
the protester. &quot;My days,&quot; he said, &quot;are ended, and I must not now
abandon a scheme of life in which for so many years I have persevered.
You are at the beginning of a career of office, and your future is
yet clear. Weigh thoroughly with yourself beforehand, at such a crisis
as this, the path of political life on which you enter.&quot; He then reserved
for his own consideration the question whether it became him to enter
the Senate. 

Next day, however, two praetorian cohorts under arms occupied the
temple of Venus Genetrix. A group of ordinary citizens with swords
which they did not conceal, had blocked the approach to the Senate.
Through the squares and colonnades were scattered bodies of soldiers,
amid whose looks of menace the senators entered their house. A speech
from the emperor was read by his quaestor. Without addressing any
one by name, he censured the senators for neglecting their public
duties, and drawing by their example the Roman knights into idleness.
&quot;For what wonder is it,&quot; he asked, &quot;that men do not come from remote
provinces when many, after obtaining the consulate or some sacred
office, give all their thoughts by choice to the beauty of their gardens?&quot;
Here was, so to say, a weapon for the accusers, on which they fastened.

Cossutianus made a beginning, and then Marcellus in more violent tones
exclaimed that the whole commonwealth was at stake. &quot;It is,&quot; he said,
&quot;the stubbornness of inferiors which lessens the clemency of our ruler.
We senators have hitherto been too lenient in allowing him to be mocked
with impunity by Thrasea throwing off allegiance, by his son-in-law
Helvidius Priscus indulging similar frenzies, by Paconius Agrippinus,
the inheritor of his father&apos;s hatred towards emperors, and by Curtius
Montanus, the habitual composer of abominable verses. I miss the presence
of an ex-consul in the Senate, of a priest when we offer our vows,
of a citizen when we swear obedience, unless indeed, in defiance of
the manners and rites of our ancestors, Thrasea has openly assumed
the part of a traitor and an enemy. In a word, let the man, wont to
act the senator and to screen those who disparage the prince, come
among us; let him propose any reform or change he may desire. We shall
more readily endure his censure of details than we can now bear the
silence by which he condemns everything. Is it the peace throughout
the world or victories won without loss to our armies which vex him?
A man who grieves at the country&apos;s prosperity, who treats our public
places, theatres and temples as if they were a desert, and who is
ever threatening us with exile, let us not enable such an one to gratify
his perverse vanity. To him the decrees of this house, the offices
of State, the city of Rome seem as nothing. Let him sever his life
from a country all love for which he has long lost and the very sight
of which he has now put from him.&quot; 

While Marcellus, with the savage and menacing look he usually wore,
spoke these and like words with rising fury in his voice, countenance,
and eye, that familiar grief to which a thick succession of perils
had habituated the Senate gave way to a new and profounder panic,
as they saw the soldiers&apos; hands on their weapons. At the same moment
the venerable form of Thrasea rose before their imagination, and some
there were who pitied Helvidius too, doomed as he was to suffer for
an innocent alliance. &quot;What again,&quot; they asked, &quot;was the charge against
Agrippinus except his father&apos;s sad fate, since he too, though guiltless
as his son, fell beneath the cruelty of Tiberius? As for Montanus,
a youth without a blemish, author of no libellous poem, he was positively
driven out an exile because he had exhibited genius.&quot; 

And meanwhile Ostorius Sabinus, the accuser of Soranus, entered, and
began by speaking of his friendship with Rubellius Plautus and of
his proconsulate in Asia which he had, he said, adapted to his own
glory rather than to the public welfare, by fostering seditious movements
in the various states. These were bygones, but there was a fresh charge
involving the daughter in the peril of the father, to the effect that
she had lavished money on astrologers. This indeed had really occurred
through the filial affection of Servilia (that was the girl&apos;s name),
who, out of love for her father and the thoughtlessness of youth,
had consulted them, only however about the safety of her family, whether
Nero could be appeased, and the trial before the Senate have no dreadful
result. 

She was accordingly summoned before the Senate, and there they stood
facing one another before the consuls&apos; tribunal, the aged parent,
and opposite to him the daughter, in the twentieth year of her age,
widowed and forlorn, her husband Annius Pollio having lately been
driven into banishment, without so much as a glance at her father,
whose peril she seemed to have aggravated. 

Then on the accuser asking her whether she had sold her bridal presents
or stript her neck of its ornaments to raise money for the performance
of magical rites, she at first flung herself on the ground and wept
long in silence. After awhile, clasping the altar steps and altar,
she exclaimed, &quot;I have invoked no impious deities, no enchantments,
nor aught else in my unhappy prayers, but only that thou, Caesar,
and you, senators, might preserve unharmed this best of fathers. My
jewels, my apparel, and the signs of my rank I gave up, as I would
have given up my life-blood had they demanded it. They must have seen
this, those men before unknown to me, both as to the name they bear
and the arts they practise. No mention was made by me of the emperor,
except as one of the divinities. But my most unhappy father knows
nothing, and, if it is a crime, I alone am guilty.&quot; 

While she was yet speaking, Soranus caught up her words, and exclaimed
that she had not gone with him into the province; that, from her youth,
she could not have been known to Plautus, and that she was not involved
in the charges against her husband. &quot;Treat separately,&quot; he said, &quot;the
case of one who is guilty only of an exaggerated filial piety, and
as for myself, let me undergo any fate.&quot; He was rushing, as he spoke,
into the embraces of his daughter who hurried towards him, but the
lictors interposed and stopped them both. Place was then given to
the witnesses, and the appearance among them of Publius Egnatius provoked
as much indignation as the cruelty of the prosecution had excited
pity. A client of Soranus, and now hired to ruin his friend, he professed
the dignified character of a Stoic, and had trained himself in demeanour
and language to exhibit an ideal of virtue. In his heart, however,
treacherous and cunning, he concealed greed and sensuality. As soon
as money had brought these vices to light, he became an example, warning
us to beware just as much of those who under the guise of virtuous
tastes are false and deceitful in friendship, as of men wholly entangled
in falsehoods and stained with every infamy. 

That same day brought with it a noble pattern in Cassius Asclepiodotus,
whose vast wealth made him a foremost man in Bithynia. He had honoured
Soranus in his prosperity with a respect which he did not cast off
in his fall, and he was now stript of all his property and driven
into exile; so impartially indifferent is heaven to examples of virtue
and vice. Thrasea, Soranus, and Servilia were allowed the choice of
death. Helvidius and Paconius were banished from Italy. Montanus was
spared to his father&apos;s intercessions on the understanding that he
was not to be admitted to political life. The prosecutors, Eprius
and Cossutianus, received each five million sesterces, Ostorius twelve
hundred thousand, with the decorations of the quaestorship.

Then, as evening approached, the consul&apos;s quaestor was sent to Thrasea,
who was passing his time in his garden. He had had a crowded gathering
of distinguished men and women, giving special attention to Demetrius,
a professor of the Cynic philosophy. With him, as might be inferred
from his earnest expression of face and from words heard when they
raised their voices, he was speculating on the nature of the soul
and on the separation of the spirit from the body, till Domitius Caecilianus,
one of his intimate friends, came to him and told him in detail what
the Senate had decided. When all who were present, wept and bitterly
complained, Thrasea urged them to hasten their departure and not mingle
their own perils with the fate of a doomed man. Arria, too, who aspired
to follow her husband&apos;s end and the example of Arria, her mother,
he counselled to preserve her life, and not rob the daughter of their
love of her only stay. 

Then he went out into a colonnade, where he was found by the quaestor,
joyful rather than otherwise, as he had learnt that Helvidius, his
son-in-law, was merely excluded from Italy. 

When he heard the Senate&apos;s decision, he led Helvidius and Demetrius
into a chamber, and having laid bare the arteries of each arm, he
let the blood flow freely, and, as he sprinkled it on the ground,
he called the quaestor to his side and said, &quot;We pour out a libation
to Jupiter the Deliverer. Behold, young man, and may the gods avert
the omen, but you have been born into times in which it is well to
fortify the spirit with examples of courage.&quot; Then as the slowness
of his end brought with it grievous anguish, turning his eyes on Demetrius

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