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122 yet do not despond: abandon not an army devoted to your cause; renounce not men as generous as they are brave."

They spoke to deaf ears. Otho had weighed all circumstances: the end was at hand: ambition in him was dead: he had been dazzled by the purple and its gold trappings: they had brought him only anxious days and sleepless nights: he had revelled with Nero: he had enjoyed some repose in his Lusitanian province: he had helped Galba to a throne; he had hurled him from it. He had shed blood enough already, he had tasted the extremes of luxury and "fierce civil strife," and all was vanity. He addressed to his faithful guards some words of gratitude, but he left none of his hearers in doubt as to his fixed purpose to have done with wars and with life—presently and for ever.

From the soldiers he turned to his weeping friends. Calm and untroubled himself, with a serene countenance, with a firm voice, he besought them to be calm and resigned. He advised all to quit the town without loss of time, and to make their terms with the conqueror. For all who were willing to depart he provided boats and carriages. From his papers and letters he selected all such as might, under a new Cæsar, be injurious to the writers of them—all that expressed duty towards himself or ill-will to Vitellius—and committed them to the flames. "For the general good," he said, "I am a willing victim. For myself, I have won ample renown, and I leave to my family an illustrious name." Towards the close of day he called for cold water, and having quenched his thirst, ordered two daggers to be brought him. He tried the points of both, and laid one of them under his pillow. Once