AGAINST EUTROPIUS
BOOK II. PREFACE
(XIX.)
The nobly born Eutropius who but lately wielded the reins of supreme power once more fears the familiar blows; and, soon to feel the wonted shackles about his halting feet, he laments that his threats against his masters have idly vanished. Fortune, having had enough of her mad freak, has thrust him forth from his high office and restored him to his old way of life. He now prepares to hew wood with axe other than the consular and is at last scourged with the rods he once proudly carried. To the punishment set in motion by him when consul he himself as consul succumbed; the year that brought him his robe of office brought him his exile. That omen of evil augury for the people turns against itself, the portent of that consulship brings ruin to the consul. That name erased, our annals breathe once more, and better health is restored to the palace now that it has at last vomited forth its poison. His friends deny him, his accomplices abandon him; in his fall is involved all the eunuch band, overcome not in battle, subdued not by strife—they may not die a man’s death. A mere stroke of the pen has wrought their undoing, a simple letter has fulfilled Mars’ savage work.
Mollis feminea detruditur arce tyrannus
et thalamo pulsus perdidit imperium:
sic iuvenis nutante fide veterique reducta
paelice defletam linquit arnica domum.