professing, as I do, unbiassed honesty, I must speak of no man either
with hatred or affection. I have reserved for my old age, if life is
spared to me, the reigns of the sainted Nerva and of the Emperor
Trajan, which afford a richer and withal a safer theme:[6] for it is
the rare fortune of these days that a man may think what he likes and
say what he thinks.

The story I now commence is rich in vicissitudes, grim with 2
warfare, torn by civil strife, a tale of horror even during times of
peace. It tells of four emperors slain by the sword, three several
civil wars, an even larger number of foreign wars and some that were
both at once: successes in the East, disaster in the West, disturbance
in Illyricum, disaffection in the provinces of Gaul, the conquest of
Britain and its immediate loss, the rising of the Sarmatian and Suebic
tribes. It tells how Dacia had the privilege of exchanging blows with
Rome, and how a pretender claiming to be Nero almost deluded the
Parthians into declaring war. Now too Italy was smitten with new
disasters, or disasters it had not witnessed for a long period of
years. Towns along the rich coast of Campania were submerged or
buried. The city was devastated by fires, ancient temples were
destroyed, and the Capitol itself was fired by Roman hands. Sacred
rites were grossly profaned, and there were scandals in high
places.[7] The sea swarmed with exiles and the island cliffs[8] were
red with blood. Worse horrors reigned in the city. To be rich or
well-born was a crime: men were prosecuted for holding or for refusing
office: merit of any kind meant certain ruin. Nor were the Informers
more hated for their crimes than for their prizes: some carried off a
priesthood or the consulship as their spoil, others won offices and
influence in the imperial household: the hatred and fear they inspired
worked universal havoc. Slaves were bribed against their masters,