if you supply them with food, lie motionless and torpid, he had dismissed with the same forgetfulness the past, the present, and the future." For cruelties, indeed, he found leisure occasionally. He was startled by tidings of revolt and disaffection. The fleet at Ravenna had gone over to the enemy, Cæcina had made an attempt, an abortive one, to pass over to Vespasian. "In that dull soul joy was more powerful than apprehension." As soon as he learned that his own soldiers had put Cæcina in irons, he returned exulting to Rome. Before a crowded assembly of the people he applauded the obedience of the legions, and sent to prison the prefect of the prætorian guard, who, as a friend of Cæcina, micht, he thought, follow his example.
Antonius had crossed the Apennines. In the valley of the Nar the two armies once more confronted one another; but deserted by their emperor, and without leaders, the Vitellians had no spirit for fighting. They were incorporated with the Vespasians. The slothful emperor, says Tacitus, "would have forgotten that he was, or rather had been one, had not his foes reminded him of his rank." Antonius offered him terms, which were confirmed by Mucianus. His life should he spared; a quiet retreat in Campania, the garden and the vineyard of Rome, with a large income, was proposed to and accepted by him.
But Rome had yet to drink the cup of woe to the dregs. Once more, as in the civil wars of the commonwealth, the city was to be sacked and the temple of the Capitoline Jupiter to he burnt. Terms were being drawn up for a peaceful surrender of the capital and the abdication of the emperor. Flavius Sabinus, the
