at his feet.  When asked the reason of this excitement, he said it was due to no anxiety for himself; all his suit and all his prayers were for his brother and his brother’s children.  Their fears of Vespasian were idle:  between him and Vitellius lay all the legions of Germany, all those brave and loyal provinces, and an immeasurable space of land and sea.  ‘It is here in Rome,’ he cried, ’in the bosom of our household that we have an enemy to fear, one who boasts the Junii and Antonii as his ancestors, one who shows himself affable and munificent to the troops, posing as a descendant of imperial stock.[103] It is to him that Rome’s attention turns, while you, Sire, careless who is friend or foe, cherish in your bosom a rival, who sits feasting at his table and watches his emperor in pain.  You must requite his unseasonable gaiety with a night of deadly sorrow, in which he may both know and feel that Vitellius lives and is his emperor, and, if anything should happen, has a son to be his heir.’

Vitellius hesitated anxiously between his criminal desires and his 39 fear that, if he deferred Blaesus’ death, he might hasten his own ruin, or by giving official orders for it might raise a storm of indignation.  He decided to proceed by poison.  The suspicion against him he confirmed by going to see Blaesus and showing obvious satisfaction.  Moreover, he was heard to make the savage boast that he had, to quote his own words, ’feasted his eyes on his enemy’s deathbed.’

Blaesus, besides his distinguished origin and refined character, was steadfastly loyal.  Even before the decline of Vitellius’ cause he had been canvassed by Caecina and other party leaders, who were turning against the emperor, and had met them with a persistent refusal.  He was a man of quiet and blameless life, with no ambition for the principate or, indeed, for any sudden distinction, but he could not escape the danger of being considered worthy of it.

Meanwhile Fabius Valens, encumbered by a long train of harlots and 40 eunuchs, was conducting a leisurely advance, most unlike a march to the front, when couriers arrived post-haste with the news that Lucilius Bassus had surrendered the Ravenna fleet.[104] If he had hurried forward on his march he might have been in time to save Caecina’s faltering loyalty, or to have joined the legions before the critical engagement was fought.  Many, indeed, advised him to avoid Ravenna and to make his way by obscure by-roads to Hostilia or Cremona.  Others wanted him to send to Rome for the Guards and to break through the enemy’s lines with a strong force.  Valens himself, with helpless indecision, let the time for action go by while he took advice; and then rejecting the advice he was offered, chose the middle course, which is always the worst in a crisis, and thus failed both in courage and in caution.