Otho[315] was awaiting news of the battle with perfect confidence 46 and firm resolve.  First came a disquieting rumour.  Soon fugitives from the field revealed the ruin of his cause.  But the soldiers in their zeal did not wait to hear their emperor speak.  ‘Keep a good heart,’ they said, ’you still have fresh forces left, and, as for us, we are ready to risk everything and suffer everything.’  Nor was this flattery.  In a wild passion of enthusiasm they urged him to march to the field and restore the fortunes of his party.  Those who were near him clasped his knees, while those who stood further off stretched out their arms to him.[316] The most eager of all was Plotius Firmus, the Prefect of the Guard, who besought Otho again and again not to desert a supremely faithful army, men who had done him such great service.  He told him that it showed more courage to bear misfortune than to give in:  that men of vigour and courage cling to their hopes even in the face of disaster:  it is only cowards who let their terror hurry them into despair.  Amid all these appeals the soldiers now cheered, now groaned, according as Otho’s expression showed signs of yielding or seemed to harden.  Nor were these feelings confined to Otho’s own Guards.  The first arrivals from Moesia assured him that the spirit of the advancing force was just as firm, and that they had already entered Aquileia.[317] There is no room for doubt that it was still possible to revive this cruel and pitiable war, so full of uncertainty to both parties.[318]

Otho himself disliked the policy of fighting.  ‘Am I,’ he said, ’to 47 expose all your splendid courage and devotion to further risks?  That would be too great a price to pay for my life.  Your high hopes of succeeding, if I were minded to live, will only swell the glory of my death.  We have learnt to know each other, Fortune and I. Do not reckon the length of my reign.  Self-control is all the harder when a man knows that his fortune cannot last.  It was Vitellius who began the civil war.  He originated the policy of fighting for the throne.  But one battle is enough.  This is the precedent that I will set.  Let posterity judge me by it.  I do not grudge Vitellius his brother, or wife, or children.  I want neither revenge nor consolation.  Others may have held the sceptre longer, but no one can ever have laid it down so bravely.  Am I the man to allow the flower of Rome in all these famous armies to be mown down once again and lost to the country?  Let me take with me the consciousness that you would have died for me.  But you must stay and live.  No more delay.  I must no longer interfere with your chance of pardon, nor you with my resolve.  It is a sort of cowardice to go on talking about the end.  Here is your best proof of my determination:  I complain of no one.  To blame gods or men is his alone who fain would keep his life.’