as a tool by a Frankish outlaw (Arbogast). Both dared monstrous guilt; both stained their hands with an innocent emperor’s[148] blood. Sudden elevation inspired Maximus with audacity, his failure taught his successor caution. Maximus was quick to arm rebellion, Eugenius careful to attempt only what was safe. The one o’erran the country, spreading his forces in all directions, the other kept his troops together and himself secure behind a rampart. Different were they, but in their deaths alike. To neither was it granted to escape an ignominious end and to fall in the thick of the fight. Gone was their glory, their weapons were reft from them and they reduced to their former state; their arms were bound behind their backs and they stretched forth their necks to the sword’s imminent stroke, begging for pardon and for life. What a fall did pride there suffer! They who but lately had moved such countless cohorts with but a nod, into whose palm a wavering world had hung ready to drop, fall not as warriors at a victor’s hand but as malefactors before a judge; he sentences with his voice as criminals those whom he assailed in war as tyrants. With both perished their lieutenants: Andragathius hurled himself from his ship into the waves, Arbogast took his life with his own sword; the Alps mark the tomb of the one, the sea of the other. This solace at least the avenger afforded to those murdered brothers that both the authors of their deaths themselves were slain; two victims went to appease those royal ghosts. Such was Theodosius’ oblation at their tomb and with the blood of the guilty he appeased the shades of the two young emperors. Those triumphs stablished Justice on her throne [148] Maximus was responsible for the murder of the Emperor Gratian, Eugenius for that of Valentinian II. See Introduction, p. viii. * * * * * Page 294