All the others voted for immediate action before the conspiracy 33 gathered strength and numbers.  ‘Otho,’ they argued, ’will soon lose heart.  He crept away by stealth and was introduced in a litter to a parcel of strangers, and now because we dally and waste time he has leisure to rehearse his part of emperor.  What is the good of waiting until Otho sets his camp in order and approaches the Capitol, while Galba peeps out of a window?  Are this famous general and his gallant friends to shut the doors and not to stir a foot over the threshold, as if they were anxious to endure a siege?  Much help may we hope from slaves, when once the unwieldy crowd loses its unity and their first indignation, which counts for so much, begins to cool.  No, cowardice is too risky.  Or if we must fall, let us meet the danger half-way, and cover Otho with disgrace, ourselves with honour.’

When Vinius resisted this proposal, Laco, prompted by Icelus, assailed him with threats, persisting in his private quarrel to the ruin of his country.  Galba without further delay supported those 34 whose plan would look best.  However, Piso was first dispatched to the camp.  The young man had a great name, his popularity was still fresh, and moreover, he disliked Titus Vinius, or, if he did not, Vinius’ enemies hoped he did:  it is so easy to believe in hatred.  Scarcely had Piso departed, when there arrived a rumour that Otho had been killed in the camp.  At first it was vague and uncertain, but eventually, as so often happens with daring lies, people began to assert that they had been present and seen the deed.  Some were glad and some indifferent, so the news gained easy credence.  Many, however, thought that the report had been concocted and disseminated by friends of Otho, who now mingled in the crowd and tried to lure Galba out by spreading this agreeable falsehood.  At this point not only the 35 populace and the inexperienced mob but many of the knights and senators as well broke out into applause and unbridled enthusiasm.  With their fear they had lost their caution.  Breaking open the palace gates they rushed in and presented themselves before Galba, complaining that they had been forestalled in the task of revenge.  All the cowards who, as events proved, could show no pluck in action, indulged in excessive heroics and lip-courage.  Nobody knew, everybody talked.  At last, for lack of the truth, Galba yielded to the consensus of error.  When he had put on his breastplate he was lifted into a chair, for he was too old and infirm to stand against the crowds that kept flocking in.  In the palace he was met by Julius Atticus, of the Body Guard, who displayed a dripping sword and shouted out that he had killed Otho.  ‘Comrade,’ said Galba, ‘who bade you?’ Galba had a remarkable power of curbing soldiers’ presumption, for he was not afraid of threats nor moved by flattery.