12916	----	Post-Processor; the PG Online Distributed Proofreaders Team [Transcriber's Note: Macrons (straight line above a vowel) are indicated in this text by surrounding square brackets and an = sign. For example, [=e] indicates an e-macron] THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE COURT OF JUSTINIAN PROCOPIUS _LITERALLY AND COMPLETELY TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK FOR THE FIRST TIME ATHENS: PRIVATELY PRINTED FOR THE ATHENIAN SOCIETY: MDCCCXCVI_ PREFACE Procopius, the most important of the Byzantine historians, was born at Caesarea in Palestine towards the beginning of the sixth century of the Christian era. After having for some time practised as a "Rhetorician," that is, advocate or jurist, in his native land, he seems to have migrated early to Byzantium or Constantinople. There he gave lessons in elocution, and acted as counsel in several law-cases. His talents soon attracted attention, and he was promoted to official duties in the service of the State. He was commissioned to accompany the famous Belisarius during his command of the army in the East, in the capacity of Counsellor or Assessor: it is not easy to define exactly the meaning of the Greek term, and the functions it embraced. The term "Judge-Advocate" has been suggested[1], a legal adviser who had a measure of judicial as well as administrative power. From his vivid description of the early years of Justinian's reign, we may conclude that he spent some considerable time at the Byzantine court before setting out for the East, at any rate, until the year 532, when Belisarius returned to the capital: he would thus have been an eye-witness of the "Nika" sedition, which, had it not been for the courage and firmness displayed by Theodora, would probably have resulted in the flight of Justinian, and a change of dynasty. In 533 he accompanied Belisarius on his expedition to Africa. On the way, he was intrusted with an important mission to Sicily. He appears to have returned to Byzantium with Belisarius in 535. He is heard of again, in 536, as charged with another mission in the neighbourhood of Rome, which shows that, at the end of 535, he had accompanied Belisarius, who had been despatched to Italy and Sicily to conquer the territory in the occupation of the Goths. This expedition terminated successfully by the surrender of Vitiges and his captivity at Byzantium in 540. As the reward of his services, Justinian bestowed upon him the title of "Illustrious" (_Illustris_), given to the highest class of public officials, raised him to the rank of a Senator, and, finally, appointed him Praefect of Byzantium in 562. He does not, however, seem to have been altogether satisfied: he complains of having been ill-paid for his labours; for several years he was even without employment. This is all that is known of his life. He died shortly before or after the end of the reign of Justinian (565), when he would have been over sixty years of age. His career seems to have been as satisfactory as could be reasonably expected, all things being taken into consideration; but the violent hatred displayed by him against Justinian in the "Anecdota" or "Secret History"--if the work be really his[2]--appears to show that he must have had some real or imaginary grounds of complaint; but history throws no light upon these incidents of his political career. Another question which has been much discussed by the commentators is: "What were the religious opinions of Procopius?" His own writings do not decide the question; he seems to shew a leaning towards heathenism and Christianity alternately. The truth seems to be that, being of a sceptical turn of mind, he was indifferent; but that, living under an orthodox Emperor, he affected the forms and language of Christianity. Had he been an open and avowed adherent of Paganism, he would scarcely have been admitted to the Senate or appointed to the important official position of Praefect of Byzantium. His description of the plague of 543, which is exceedingly minute in its details, has given rise to the idea that he was a physician, but there is no proof of this. The same thing might have been with equal justice said of Thucydides; or we might assert that Procopius was an architect, on the strength of his having written the "Buildings." Procopius, holding a position in a period of transition between classical Greek and Byzantine literature, is the first and most talented of Byzantine historians. His writings are characterized by an energetic combination of the Attic models of the affected, but often picturesque style employed by the Byzantine writers. Although he is not free from errors of taste, he expresses his ideas with great vigour, and his thoughts are often worthy of a better age. The information which he has given us is exceedingly valuable. He had ample opportunities of observation, and his works present us with the best picture of the reign of Justinian, so important in Greco-Roman annals. His chief work is the "Histories," in eight books: two on the Persian wars (408-553), two on the Vandal wars (395-545), and four[3] on the Gothic wars, bringing down the narrative to the beginning of 559. The whole work is very interesting; the descriptions are excellent: in the matter of ethnographical details, Procopius may be said to be without a rival among ancient historians. He shews equal descriptive talent in his work on the "Buildings" of Justinian, a curious and useful work, but spoiled by excessive adulation of the Emperor. Gibbon is of opinion that it was written with the object of conciliating Justinian, who had been dissatisfied with the too independent judgment of the "Histories." If this be the case, we can understand why the historian avenged himself in the "Secret History," which is a veritable _chronique scandaleuse_ of the Byzantine Court from 549-562. Justinian and Theodora, Belisarius and his wife Antonina, are painted in the blackest colours. Belisarius, who is treated with the least severity, is nevertheless represented as weak and avaricious, capable of any meanness in order to retain the favour of the Court and his military commands, which afforded him the opportunity of amassing enormous wealth. As for Antonina and Theodora, the revelations of the "Secret History" exhibit a mixture of crime and debauchery not less hideous than that displayed by Messalina. Justinian is represented as a monstrous tyrant, at once cunning and stupid, "like an ass," in the the words of the historian, and as the wickedest man that ever lived. The author declares that he and his wife are spirits or demons, who have assumed the form of human beings in order to inflict the greatest possible evils upon mankind. These accusations seem to be founded sometimes upon fact, sometimes upon vague rumours and blind gossip. Generally speaking, the author of the "Secret History" seems sincere, but at the same time he shows a narrowness by confounding all Justinian's acts in one sweeping censure, and in attributing to him the most incredible refinements of political perversity. Critics have asked the question whether the author of such a work can be Procopius of Caesarea, the impartial historian of the wars. Direct proofs of authenticity are wanting, since the most ancient authors who attribute it to him--Suidas and Nicephorus Callistus--lived centuries later.[4] But it is easy to understand that a work of this kind could not be acknowledged by its author, or published during the lifetime of Justinian. In later times, it circulated privately, until the lapse of time had rendered the Byzantine Court indifferent to the hideous picture of the vices of a previous age. The work is evidently that of a contemporary of Justinian; it can only have been written by a functionary familiar with the ins and outs of Court intrigue, who had private grievances of his own to avenge. It is true that it sheds little lustre upon the character of Procopius, since it exhibits him as defaming the character of the masters whom he had formerly served and flattered. But this kind of inconsistency is not uncommon in writers of memoirs, who often revenge themselves posthumously by blackening the reputation of their former masters. Although the author writes under the influence of the most violent resentment, there seems no reason to doubt that, although details may be exaggerated, the work on the whole gives a faithful picture of the Byzantine Court of the period. The following sketch of the "Character and Histories of Procopius" from Gibbon,[5] although modern authorities have taken exception to it in certain points, will be read with interest: "The events of Justinian's reign, which excite our curious attention by their number, variety, and importance, are diligently related by the secretary of Belisarius, a rhetorician, whom eloquence had promoted to the rank of senator and praefect of Constantinople. According to the vicissitudes of courage or servitude, of favour or disgrace, Procopius successively composed the _history_, the _panegyric_, and the _satire_ of his own times. The eight books of the Persian, Vandalic, and Gothic wars, which are continued in the five books of Agathias, deserve our esteem as a laborious and successful imitation of the Attic, or at least of the Asiatic, writers of ancient Greece. His facts are collected from the personal experience and free conversations of a soldier, a statesman, and a traveller; his style continually aspires, and often attains, to the merit of strength and elegance; his reflections, more especially in the speeches which he too frequently inserts, contain a rich fund of political knowledge; and the historian, excited by the generous ambition of pleasing and instructing posterity, appears to disdain the prejudices of the people and the flattery of courts. The writings of Procopius were read and applauded by his contemporaries; but, although he respectfully laid them at the foot of the throne, the pride of Justinian must have been wounded by the praise of an hero who perpetually eclipses the glory of his inactive sovereign. The conscious dignity of independence was subdued by the hopes and fears of a slave, and the secretary of Belisarius laboured for pardon and reward in the six books of imperial _edifices._[6] He had dexterously chosen a subject of apparent splendour, in which he could loudly celebrate the genius, the magnificence, and the piety of a prince, who, both as a conqueror and legislator, had surpassed the puerile virtues of Cyrus and Themistocles. Disappointment might urge the flatterer to secret revenge, and the first glance of favour might again tempt him to suspend and suppress a libel, in which the Roman Cyrus is degraded into an odious and contemptible tyrant, in which both the Emperor and his consort Theodora are seriously represented as two demons, who had assumed a human form for the destruction of mankind. Such base inconsistency must doubtless sully the reputation and detract from the credit of Procopius; yet, after the venom of his malignity has been suffered to exhale, the residue of the 'Anecdotes,' even the most disgraceful facts, some of which had been tenderly hinted in his public history, are established by their internal evidence, or the authentic monuments of the times."[7] It remains to add that in some passages, owing to imperfections in the text or the involved nature of the sentences, it is difficult to feel sure as to the meaning. In these the translator can only hope to have given a rendering which harmonises with the context and is generally intelligible, even if the Greek does not seem to have been strictly followed. For a clear and succinct account of the reign of Justinian, the four chapters in Gibbon (xl.-xliv.), which are generally admitted to be the most successful in his great work, should be read. CONTENTS INTRODUCTION Arrangement of the work--The manner in which it has been drawn up--The causes of events omitted in previous writings--The duty of the historian towards posterity--Lessons necessary to tyrants--Semiramis, Sardanapalus, and Nero--Facts relating to Belisarius, Justinian, and Theodora. CHAPTER I Birth and character of Antonina--Her marriage with Belisarius--Her adulterous amours--Services rendered by her to the Empress Theodora--Her passion for the Thracian Theodosius--Adoption of the latter--The lovers surprised by Belisarius--His weakness--Revelation made by the slave Macedonia--Flight of Theodosius--Vengeance of Antonina upon Macedonia, and upon Constantine, who had spoken insultingly of her--Theodosius refuses to return to her until the departure of her son Photius--Retirement of Photius--Demands of Theodosius--His return--Infatuation of Belisarius--His return to Byzantium--Theodosius enters a cloister at Ephesus--Despair of Antonina--She causes him to be recalled--His resistance--His secret return. CHAPTER II Departure of Belisarius, accompanied by the "consular" Photius, for the war against Chosroes, King of Persia--Antonina remains at Byzantium--Her intrigues against Photius--The latter denounces her adulterous intimacy with Theodosius--Indignation of Belisarius--His agreement with Photius--His vengeance postponed--Entry of the Roman army into Persia--Downfall of John the Cappadocian--Antonina's perjuries--She sets out for the army--Theodosius sent back to Ephesus--Capture of Sisauranum--Arrival of Antonina--Retirement of Belisarius--Arethas and the Saracens--Colchis or Lazica invaded by Chosroes--Capture of Petra--Reverse sustained by Chosroes--The Huns defeated by Valerian--Insurrectionist movement amongst the Persians--Letter of Theodora to Zaberganes--Return of Chosroes to Persia. CHAPTER III Arrest of Antonina--Hesitation of Belisarius--Photius repairs to Ephesus, and extorts from Calligonus a confession of his mistress's secrets--Theodosius, having taken refuge in a temple, is given up by Andreas the Bishop--Intervention of Theodora--Photius removes Theodosius, and puts him away in Cilicia--The latter and Calligonus set free--The Empress hands over Antonina's enemies to her--Her vengeance--Punishment of the senator Theodosius--Forced reconciliation between Belisarius and his wife--Arrest of Photius: his firmness under torture--Calligonus restored to Antonina--Theodosius restored to her arms--The Empress's favours--She promises him a high military command--His death from dysentery--Long imprisonment of Photius--Sacred asylums violated--Weakness displayed by the priests--Deliverance of Photius, who enters a convent at Jerusalem--Perjury of Belisarius--His punishment--Failure of the third expedition against Chosroes--Capture of Callinikus--Roman prisoners--Belisarius accused of treachery and cowardice. CHAPTER IV Illness of Justinian--Resolutions of the army consequent upon his supposed death--Peter and John the Glutton denounce Belisarius and Buzes--The latter put away and tortured--Disgrace of Belisarius--He is superseded by Martin in the command of the army of the East--His treasures carried away by Theodora--His friendship for Antonina--His letter to Belisarius--Submission of the latter to his wife--Division of his fortune--Betrothal of Joannina, his daughter, to Anastasius, grandson of Theodora--Belisarius appointed Count of the Royal Stable and again commander of the army in Italy--Comparison of the two expeditions. CHAPTER V Conduct of Belisarius in Italy--His greed--Defection of Herodianus--Loss of Spoletum--Success of Totila and his Goths--Rupture with John--Betrothal of the latter to Justina, daughter of Germanus--Recall of Belisarius--Perusia taken by the Goths--The marriage between Joannina and Anastasius consummated by a trick on the part of the dying Empress--Return of Antonina, who separates the young pair--Belisarius despised for his weakness--Sergius causes the loss of the Roman army in Africa--Murder of Pegasius by Solomon--The vengeance of Heaven. CHAPTER VI History of Justin and his two brothers, poor Illyrian husbandmen--Their enrolment in the army--Their admission into the Palace Guards, in the reign of Leo--Justin condemned to death, during the reign of Anastasius, by the General John Kyrtus, for some breach of discipline--His escape by divine intervention--He becomes praefect of the Praetorian guards--In spite of his ignorance, he is proclaimed Emperor--The way in which he was assisted to sign imperial documents--The Empress Lupicina-Euphemia--Justinian, the nephew of Justin, the real master of the Empire--His cruelty, his avarice, his inconsistency in regard to the laws--He oppresses Italy, Africa, and the rest of the Empire--Amantius condemned, to avenge an outrage upon the bishop John--Perjury towards Vitalianus. CHAPTER VII Byzantium divided between two factions: the Blues and the Greens--Justinian puts himself at the head of the former--The Empire entirely upset by the quarrels between these factions--The Blues dress their hair after the manner of the Huns--Their general attire--Their excesses--Behaviour of the Greens--Corruption of the morals of young men--Murder committed with impunity--Inaction on the part of the authorities--Acts of violence committed upon both sexes--A woman throws herself into the sea to save her virtue--Culpability of Justinian--His partiality for the oppressors, upon whom he bestows favours and dignities. CHAPTER VIII Calamities in the provinces--Justinian's apathy--Waste of the public money during his reign--Useless presents of money made to the Huns--Extravagance in buildings on the sea-shore--Attack upon the fortunes of private individuals--Description of Justinian's personal appearance--His resemblance to Domitian--Domitian's wife--Alterations in established institutions. CHAPTER IX The bear-keeper Acacius, Theodora's father--His widow loses her place in the amphitheatre of the Greens and takes another in that of the Blues--Her daughters--The beginning of Theodora's career--Her precocious immorality--Her accomplishments--Her debaucheries--Her intercourse with Hecebolus, governor of Pentapolis--Her return from the East--Justinian, enamoured of her, wishes to marry her--Assassination of Hypatius--The Praefect Theodotus Colocynthius--Punishment of malefactors--His exile and death. CHAPTER X The Empress Euphemia--Her opposition to the marriage of Justinian and Theodora--Justin repeals the law prohibiting the marriage of a patrician with a stage-performer--Justinian and Theodora colleagues on the throne--Death of Justin--Effect of the marriage--Adulation of the senate, clergy, people, and army--General feeling of discouragement--Personal advantages of Theodora--Pretended antagonism between her and Justinian--Theodora deceives the Christians and the factions--Consolidation of despotism. CHAPTER XI Legislative innovations--Avarice and cruelty of Justinian--Barbarian invasions provoked--Exorbitant subsidies to the chiefs of the Huns and Chosroes King of Persia, followed by disturbances and violation of truce--Saracens, Slavs, Antes, and other barbarous peoples--Desolation of the provinces--Religious persecutions and confiscation of Church property--Montanists, Sabbatians, Arians, and Samaritans--Pretended conversions--Manicheans and Polytheists--Caesarea, the author's birthplace--Revolt of the peasants under Julian--Hellenism--Law against paederasty--Persecution of astrologers--Continuous emigration. CHAPTER XII Downfall and death of Zeno, grandson of Anthemius, Emperor of the West--Robbery of Tatian, Demosthenes, the wealthy Hilara, Dionysus of Libanus and John of Edessa--Forged wills--Theodora and Justinian evil spirits, not simple human beings--Justinian the putative son of Sabbatius--His mother's intimate relations with a spirit--The adventure of a monk--Justinian's temperate manner of living--His fondness for women--Theodora's intercourse with a spirit--Reputation of Macedonia during Justin's time--Her prediction to Theodora--Dream of her marriage with the Prince of the Demons. CHAPTER XIII Justinian's qualities--His accessibility--His partiality for the clergy--His gifts to the churches--His passion for blood and money, shared by him with Theodora--Flattery of Tribonianus--Justinian's fickleness and ill-faith--Venality of justice--Corruption of officials--Justinian's fasting and temperate mode of life. CHAPTER XIV Abolition of various old customs--The attributes of the quaestor and imperial secretaries--The senate a mere cipher--Corruption of the "Referendaries"--Guilty conduct of Zeno, the Cilician. CHAPTER XV Cruelty of Theodora--Her voluptuous life--Her ambition--Her character and Justinian's compared--Her harshness towards persons of rank--Their servility--Pretended mildness of Justinian--Theodora's eagerness for vengeance--Her partiality--The insult offered by her to a patrician--Her stay at Heraeum, on the sea-shore. CHAPTER XVI Assassination of Amalasunta, Queen of the Goths, by Peter, Theodora's agent--The secretary, Priscus, obliged to enter a cloister--Justinian's hypocrisy--Disgrace of Areobindus, Theodora's lover--Her way of getting rid of persons of rank--Punishment of Basianus--False accusation against Diogenes, a member of the municipal council--Suborning of witnesses--Theodora's courage. CHAPTER XVII Murder of Callinicus, governor of Cilicia--His property confiscated by Justinian--Theodora's severe measures against prostitutes--She compels two girls of noble birth to marry--Her frequent abortions--Disappearance of her natural son, John--Corrupt morals of the ladies of the capital--Theodora disposes of ecclesiastical dignities--Takes upon herself the general superintendence of marriages--Adventure of Saturninus--Persecution of John of Cappadocia. CHAPTER XVIII Justinian, a devil in the form of a man, causes the destruction of millions of men--His policy towards the Vandals, Goths, and other barbarians--Chosroes and the Persians--Invasion of the Huns, Saracens, and others--Justinian's theological studies--Religious persecution--Divine anger--Inundations, earthquakes, and the plague. CHAPTER XIX A dream relating to Justinian's avarice--The vast treasures of Anastasius squandered by Justinian--He makes himself master of the fortunes of private individuals by false accusations, and squanders them in presents of money to the barbarians, who plunder the Empire--Fulfilment of the dream. CHAPTER XX Justinian impoverishes private individuals by "monopolies"--Two new magistrates appointed at Constantinople--Praetor of the People to judge cases of robbery--Legislation in regard to paederasty and female morality--Establishment of an inquisition against heretics--Condemnations and confiscations--Degradation of the quaestorship in the hands of Junilus and Constantine--Their venality. CHAPTER XXI The impost called "Aerikon"--Exactions authorised by Justinian--The property of John the Cappadocian confiscated--The farming of the taxes entrusted to salaried commissioners--Increased spoliation--Oath taken against venality--Increasing corruption of officials--The Thracians and Illyrians at first check the depredations of the Huns, Goths, and other barbarians, and then, in turn, take to plundering themselves. CHAPTER XXII John of Cappadocia replaced by Theodotus, and Theodotus by Peter Barsyames, the Syrian, an old usurer--His greed--He suppresses the gratuities to the soldiers--Traffic in every kind of employment--Speculation in wheat--Scarcity of provisions at Byzantium--Discontent--Barsyames upheld by Theodora and his own sorceries--His connection with the Manicheans--Their influence over Justinian--Barsyames supersedes John of Palestine as treasury minister--He abolishes the assistance rendered to the unfortunate. CHAPTER XXIII Ruin of private properties--Abolition of the remission of arrears of taxes, even in the case of cities taken by the barbarians--The imposts called Syn[=o]n[=e], Epibol[=e], and Diagraph[=e]--Soldiers billeted in private houses. CHAPTER XXIV Oppression of the soldiers by the Logothetes--Division of the soldiers into three classes--Their promotion suspended--Their pay diverted to other purposes--The diminishing army--Praetorian soldiers disbanded--Alexander the Logothete in Italy--The general's aides-de-camp--The frontier garrisons abandoned--Palace guards, Scholares, and supernumeraries--Armenians--Peter, the Master of Offices, the murderer of Amalasunta--Palace officials, Domestics, and Protectors--Suppression of the quinquennial gratuity--The imperial officers and dignitaries. CHAPTER XXV Unjust treatment of merchants, mariners, and artisans--The straits of the Bosphorus and the Hellespont burdened with custom-house dues--Enormous dues levied by Addeus in the port of Byzantium--Change in the silver coinage: its depreciation--Monopoly of the silk trade--Ruin of Berytus and Tyre--Malversations of Peter Barsyames and his successors--Tyranny of Theodora and avarice of Justinian. CHAPTER XXVI Destruction of city decorations and ornaments--Advocates deprived of their fees by the institution of arbitrators--Physicians and professors deprived of their pensions--Public spectacles discontinued--The consulship suppressed--Scarcity of corn and water at Byzantium, Rome, and Alexandria--Generosity of Theodoric, the conqueror of Italy--Greed of Alexander Forficula--Disbanding of the garrison of Thermopylae--Spoliation of Athens and other Greek cities--Hephaestus and Diocletian. CHAPTER XXVII Conduct of Justinian and Theodora in regard to the clergy and council of Chalcedon--Arsenius the Samaritan persecutes the Christians of Scythopolis with impunity--Paul, archbishop of Alexandria, has the deacon Psoes put to death--Rhodon, the governor, by his orders, tortures him: but he is dismissed, and then put to death, together with Arsenius, through the influence of Theodora--Liberius, the new governor, and Pelagius, legate of Pope Vigilius at Alexandria, depose Paul, who buys back the favour of Justinian--Resistance of Vigilius--Faustinus, governor of Palestine, denounced by the Christians as a Samaritan--His condemnation by the Senate--The sentence annulled by Justinian--Outrages upon the Christians. CHAPTER XXVIII Laws changed for money considerations--Affair of the church of Emesa--Priscus the forger--A hundred years' prescription granted to the churches--Mission of Longinus--Persecution of the Jews at the Passover--Justinian's intolerance. CHAPTER XXIX Justinian's hypocrisy--Letters sent to both Liberius and John Laxarion, confirming them as governors of Egypt--Intervention of Pelagius and Eudaemon--Murder of John--Liberius acquitted by the Senate--Fine inflicted by Justinian--Confiscation of the inheritances of Eudaemon, Euphratas, and Irenaeus--New law as to the inheritances of municipal councillors--Spoliation of the daughter of Anatolia and Ascalon, the widow of Mamilianus--Affair of Tarsus--Malthanes and the Blues of Cilicia--Unpunished assassinations--Justinian's corruptness--Leo the Referendary. CHAPTER XXX The "posts" and "spies"--Rapidity of the imperial couriers--Their chief routes--Superiority of the Persians--Reverses of the Romans in Lazica at the hands of Chosroes--The army commissariat--Spoliation of the lawyer Evangelius--Justinian's sarcasm--He and Theodora required their feet to be kissed by those who had audience of them--Their titles of "master" and "mistress"--The palace crowded by applicants for audiences--The death of Justinian alone will show how the vast wealth of the Empire has been spent. INTRODUCTION I have thus described the fortunes of the Romans in their wars up to the present day, as far as possible assigning the description of events to their proper times and places. What follows will not be arranged with the same exactness, but everything shall be written down as it took place throughout the whole extent of the Roman empire. My reason for this is, that it would not have been expedient for me to describe these events fully while those who were their authors were still alive; for, had I done so, I could neither have escaped the notice of the multitude of spies, nor, had I been detected, could I have avoided a most horrible death; for I could not even have relied upon my nearest relatives with confidence. Indeed, I have been forced to conceal the real causes of many of the events recounted in my former books. It will now be my duty, in this part of my history, to tell what has hitherto remained untold, and to state the real motives and origin of the actions which I have already recounted. But, when undertaking this new task, how painful and hard will it be, to be obliged to falter and contradict myself as to what I have said about the lives of Justinian and Theodora: and particularly so, when I reflect that what I am about to write will not appear to future generations either credible or probable, especially when a long lapse of years shall have made them old stories; for which reason I fear that I may be looked upon as a romancer, and reckoned among playwrights. However, I shall have the courage not to shrink from this important work, because my story will not lack witnesses; for the men of to-day, who are the best informed witnesses of these facts, will hand on trustworthy testimony of their truth to posterity. Yet, when I was about to undertake this work, another objection often presented itself to my mind, and for a long time held me in suspense. I doubted whether it would be right to hand down these events to posterity; for the wickedest actions had better remain unknown to future times than come to the ears of tyrants, and be imitated by them. For most rulers are easily led by lack of knowledge into imitating the evil deeds of their predecessors, and find it their easiest plan to walk in the evil ways of their forefathers. Later, however, I was urged to record these matters, by the reflection that those who hereafter may wish to play the tyrant will clearly see, in the first place, that it is probable that retribution will fall upon them for the evil that they may do, seeing that this was what befell these people; and, secondly, that their actions and habits of life will be published abroad for all time, and therefore they will perhaps be less ready to transgress. Who, among posterity, would have known of the licentious life of Semiramis, or of the madness of Sardanapalus or Nero, if no memorials of them had been left to us by contemporary writers? The description of such things, too, will not be entirely without value to such as hereafter may be so treated by tyrants; for unhappy people are wont to console themselves by the thought that they are not the only persons who have so suffered. For these reasons, I shall first give a description of the evil wrought by Belisarius, and afterwards I shall describe the misdeeds of Justinian and Theodora. CHAPTER I The wife of Belisarius, whom I have spoken of in my previous writings, was the daughter and grand-daughter of chariot-drivers, men who had practised their art in the circus at Byzantium and at Thessalonica. Her mother was one of the prostitutes of the theatre. She herself at first lived a lewd life, giving herself up to unbridled debauchery; besides this, she devoted herself to the study of the drugs which had long been used in her family, and learned the properties of those which were essential for carrying out her plans. At last she was betrothed and married to Belisarius, although she had already borne many children. She formed adulterous connections as soon as she was married, but took pains to conceal the fact, by making use of familiar artifices, not out of any respect for her husband (for she never felt any shame at any crime whatever, and hoodwinked him by enchantments), but because she dreaded the vengeance of the Empress; for Theodora was very bitter against her, and had already shown her teeth. But, after she had made Theodora her humble friend by helping her when in the greatest difficulties, first of all by making away with Silverius, as shall be told hereafter, and afterwards by ruining John of Cappadocia, as I have already described, she became less timid, and, scorning all concealment, shrank from no kind of wickedness. There was a Thracian youth, named Theodosius, in the household of Belisarius, who by descent was of the Eunomian faith. On the eve of his departure for Libya, Belisarius held the youth over the font, received him into his arms after baptism, and thenceforth made him a member of his household, with the consent of his wife, according to the Christian rite of adoption. Antonina therefore received Theodosius as a son consecrated by religion, and in consequence loved him, paid him especial attention, and obtained complete dominion over him. Afterwards, during this voyage, she became madly enamoured of him, and, being beside herself with passion, cast away all fear of everything human or divine, together with all traces of modesty, and enjoyed him at first in secret, afterwards even in the presence of her servants and handmaidens; for she was by this time so mad with lust, that she disregarded everything that stood in the way of her passion. Once, when they were at Carthage, Belisarius caught her in the act, but permitted himself to be deceived by his wife. He found them both together in an underground chamber, and was furiously enraged at the sight; but she showed no sign of fear or a desire to avoid him, and said, "I came to this place with this youth, to hide the most precious part of our plunder, that the Emperor might not come to know of it." This she said by way of an excuse, and he, pretending to be convinced, let it pass, although he saw that the belt which held Theodosius's drawers over his private parts was undone; for he was so overpowered by his love for the creature that he preferred not to believe his own eyes. However, Antonina's debauchery went on from bad to worse, till it reached a shameful pitch. All who beheld it were silent, except one slave woman, named Macedonia, who, when Belisarius was at Syracuse after the conquest of Sicily, first made her master swear the most solemn oaths that he never would betray her to her mistress, and then told him the whole story, bringing as her witnesses two boys who attended on Antonina's bed-chamber. When Belisarius heard this, he told some of his guards to make away with Theodosius, but the latter, being warned in time, fled to Ephesus: for the greater part of Belisarius's followers, influenced by the natural weakness of his character, were at more pains to please his wife than to show their devotion to him; and this was why they disclosed to her the orders they had received concerning Theodosius. When Constantine saw Belisarius's sorrow at what had befallen him, he sympathized with him, but was so imprudent as to add: "For my own part, I would have killed the woman rather than the youth." This having been reported to Antonina, she conceived a secret hatred for him, until she could make him feel the weight of her resentment; for she was like a scorpion, and knew how to hide her venom. Not long afterwards, either by enchantments or by caresses, she persuaded her husband that the accusation brought against her was false; whereupon, without any hesitation, he sent for Theodosius, and promised to deliver up to his wife Macedonia and the boys, which he afterwards did. It is said that she first cut out their tongues, and then ordered them to be hewn in pieces, put into sacks and thrown into the sea. In this bloody deed she was assisted by one of her slaves named Eugenius, who had also been one of those who perpetrated the outrage on Silverius. Shortly afterwards, Belisarius was persuaded by his wife to kill Constantine. What I have already recounted about Praesidius and his daggers belongs to this period. Belisarius would have let him go, but Antonina would not rest until she had exacted vengeance for the words which I have just repeated. This murder stirred up a great hatred against Belisarius on the part of the Emperor and of the chief nobles of the Empire. Such was the course of events. Meanwhile, Theodosius refused to return to Italy, where Belisarius and Antonina were then staying, unless Photius were sent out of the way; for Photius was naturally disposed to show his spite against anyone who supplanted him in another's good graces; but he was quite right in feeling jealous of Theodosius, because he himself, although Antonina's son, was quite neglected, whereas the other was exceedingly powerful and had amassed great riches. They say that he had taken treasure amounting to a hundred centenars of gold [about £400,000] from the treasure-houses of the two cities of Carthage and Ravenna, since he had obtained sole and absolute control of the management of them. When Antonina heard this determination of Theodosius, she never ceased to lay traps for her son and to concoct unnatural plots against him, until she made him see that he must leave her and retire to Byzantium; for he could no longer endure the designs against his life. At the same time she made Theodosius return to Italy, where she enjoyed to the full the society of her lover, thanks to the easy good-nature of her husband. Later on, she returned to Byzantium in company with both of them. It was there that Theodosius became alarmed lest their intimacy should become known, and was greatly embarrassed, not knowing what to do. That it could remain undetected to the end he felt was impossible, for he saw that the woman was no longer able to conceal her passion, and indulge it in secret, but was an open and avowed adulteress, and did not blush to be called so. For this reason he returned to Ephesus, and after having submitted to the tonsure, joined the monastic order. At this Antonina entirely lost her reason, showed her distress by putting on mourning and by her general behaviour, and roamed about the house, wailing and lamenting (even in the presence of her husband) the good friend she had lost--so faithful, so pleasant, so tender a companion, so prompt in action. At last she even won over her husband, who began to utter the same lamentations. The poor fool kept calling for the return of his well-beloved Theodosius, and afterwards went to the Emperor and besought him and the Empress, till he prevailed upon them to send for Theodosius, as a man whose services always had been and always would be indispensable in the household. Theodosius, however, refused to obey, declaring that it was his fixed determination to remain in the cloister and embrace the monastic life. But this language was by no means sincere, for it was his intention, as soon as Belisarius left the country, to rejoin Antonina by stealth at Byzantium, as, in fact, he did. CHAPTER II Shortly afterwards Belisarius was sent by the Emperor to conduct the war against Chosroes, and Photius accompanied him. Antonina remained behind, contrary to her usual custom; for, before this, she had always desired to accompany her husband on all his travels wherever he went, for fear that, when he was by himself, he might return to his senses, and, despising her enchantments, form a true estimate of her character. But now, in order that Theodosius might have free access to her, Antonina began to intrigue in order to get Photius out of her way. She induced some of Belisarius's suite to lose no opportunity of provoking and insulting him, while she herself wrote letters almost every day, in which she continually slandered her son and set every one against him. Driven to bay, the young man was forced to accuse his mother, and, when a witness arrived from Byzantium who told him of Theodosius's secret commerce with Antonina, Photius led him straightway into the presence of Belisarius and ordered him to reveal the whole story. When Belisarius learned this, he flew into a furious rage, fell at Photius's feet, and besought him to avenge him for the cruel wrongs which he had received at the hands of those who should have been the last to treat him in such a manner. "My dearest boy," he exclaimed, "you have never known your father, whoever he may have been, for he ended his life while you were still in your nurse's arms; his property has been of little or no assistance to you, for he was by no means wealthy. Bred under my care, though I was but your stepfather, you have now reached an age when you are capable of assisting me to avenge the wrongs from which I suffer. I have raised you to the consulship, and have heaped riches upon you, so that I may justly be regarded by you as your father, your mother, and your whole family; for it is not by the ties of blood but by deeds that men are accustomed to measure their attachment to each other. The hour has now come when you must not remain an indifferent spectator of the ruin of my house and of the loss with which I am threatened, of so large a sum of money, nor of the immeasurable shame which your mother has incurred in the sight of all men. Remember that the sins of women reflect disgrace not only on their husbands, but also upon their children, whose honour suffers all the more because of their natural likeness to their mothers. "Be well assured that, for my own part, I love my wife with all my heart; and should it be granted to me to punish the dishonourer of my house, I will do her no hurt; but, as long as Theodosius remains alive, I cannot condone her misconduct." On hearing these words Photius replied that he would do all that he could to aid his stepfather, but, at the same time, he feared that he himself might come to some harm by so doing; for he was unable to feel any confidence in Belisarius, because of his weakness of character, especially where his wife was concerned. He dreaded the fate of Macedonia, and of many other victims. For this reason he insisted that Belisarius should swear fidelity to him by the most sacred oaths known to Christians, and they bound themselves never to abandon each other, even at the cost of their lives. For the present, they both agreed that it would be unwise to make any attempt; and they resolved to wait until Antonina had left Byzantium to join them, and Theodosius had returned to Ephesus, which would give Photius the opportunity of going thither and easily disposing of both Theodosius and his fortune. They had just invaded the Persian territory with all their forces, and during this time the ruin of John of Cappadocia was accomplished at Byzantium, as I have told in the former books of my history. I have there only been silent, through fear, on one point, that it was not by mere hazard that Antonina succeeded in deceiving John and his daughter, but by numerous oaths, sworn on all that Christians deem most holy, she made them believe that she intended to do them no harm. After this, having risen greatly in favour with the Empress, she sent Theodosius to Ephesus, and herself, foreseeing no trouble, set out for the East. Belisarius had just captured the fortress of Sisauranum, when he was told of his wife's arrival; whereupon he immediately ordered his army to turn back, disregarding the interests of the Empire for the sake of his private feelings. Certain matters had indeed happened, as I have already set forth, which made a retreat advisable, but his wife's presence hastened it considerably. But, as I said at the beginning, I did not then think it safe to describe the real motives of men's actions. Belisarius was reproached by all the Romans for having sacrificed the interests of his country to his domestic affairs. The reason was that, in his first transport of passion against his wife, he could not bring himself to go far away from Roman territory; for he felt that the nearer he was, the easier it would be for him to take vengeance upon Theodosius, as soon as he heard of the arrival of Antonina. He therefore ordered Arethas and his people to cross the river Tigris, and they returned home, without having performed anything worthy of record, while he himself took care not to retire more than an hour's journey from the Roman frontier. The fortress of Sisauranum, indeed, for an active man, is not more than a day's journey from the frontier by way of Nisibis, and only half that distance if one goes by another route. But had he chosen to cross the river Tigris at first with all his host, I have no doubt that he would have been able to carry off all the riches of Assyria, and extend his conquests as far as the city of Ctesiphon, without meeting with any opposition. He might even have secured the release of the Antiochians, and all the other Romans who were there in captivity, before returning home. Furthermore, he was chiefly to blame for the extreme ease with which Chosroes led his army home from Colchis. I will now relate how this came to pass. When Chosroes, the son of Cabades, invaded Colchis, with the result which I have recounted elsewhere, and took Petra, the Medes nevertheless sustained severe losses, both in battle and owing to the difficulties of the country; for, as I have said already, Lazica is a country almost inaccessible, owing to its rocks and precipices. They had at the same time been attacked by pestilence, which carried off the greater part of the troops, and many died from want of food and necessaries. It was at this crisis of affairs that certain men from Persia came into that country, bringing the news that Belisarius had beaten Nabedes in a battle near the city of Nisibis, and was pressing forward; that he had taken the fortress of Sisauranum, and had made prisoners of Bleschames and eight hundred Persian lancers; that another corps of Romans under Arethas, the chief of the Saracens, had been detached to cross the Tigris, and ravage the land to the east of that river, which up to that time had remained free from invasion. It happened also that the army of Huns, whom Chosroes had sent into Roman Armenia, in order, by this diversion, to prevent the Romans from hindering his expedition against the Lazi, had fallen in with and been defeated by Valerian, at the head of a Roman army, and almost annihilated. When this news was brought to the Persians, having been reduced to desperate straits by their ill success at Lazica, they feared that, if an army should cut them off in their critical position, they might all die of hunger amidst the crags and precipices of that inaccessible country. They feared, too, for their children, their wives and their country; and all the flower of Chosroes' army railed bitterly at him for having broken his plighted word and violated the common law of nations, by invading a Roman State in a most unwarrantable manner, in time of peace, and for having insulted an ancient and most powerful State which he would not be able to conquer in war. The soldiers were on the point of breaking out into revolt, had not Chosroes, alarmed at the state of affairs, discovered a remedy for it. He read to them a letter which the Empress had just written to Zaberganes, in the following terms: "You must know, O Zaberganes, since you were ambassador at our Court not long ago, that we are well disposed towards you, and that we do not doubt that you have our interests at heart. You will easily realise the good opinion which I have formed of you, if you will persuade King Chosroes to maintain peaceful relations with our empire. I promise you, in that case, the fullest recompense on the part of my husband, who never does anything without my advice." When Chosroes had read this, he reproachfully asked the spokesmen of the Persians whether they thought that that was an Empire which was managed by a woman, and thus managed to quell their impetuosity; but, nevertheless, he retired from his position in alarm, expecting that his retreat would be cut off by Belisarius and his forces; but, as he found himself unopposed on his march, he gladly made his way home. CHAPTER III When Belisarius entered Roman territory, he found that his wife had arrived from Byzantium. He kept her in custody in disgrace, and was frequently minded to put her to death, but had not the heart to do so, being overpowered, I believe, by the ardour of his love. Others, however, say that his mind and resolution were destroyed by the enchantments which his wife employed against him. Meanwhile, Photius arrived in a state of fury at Ephesus, having taken with him in chains Calligonus, a eunuch and pander of Antonina, whom, by frequently flogging him during the journey, he forced to tell all his mistress's secrets. Theodosius, however, was warned in time, and took sanctuary in the temple of St. John the Apostle, which is revered in that town as a most sacred spot; but Andrew, the bishop of Ephesus, was bribed into delivering him up into the hands of Photius. Meanwhile, Theodora was very anxious about Antonina, when she heard what had befallen her. She summoned both Belisarius and his wife to Byzantium: on hearing this, Photius sent Theodosius away to Cilicia, where his own spearmen were in winter quarters, giving orders to his escort to take the man thither as secretly as possible, and, when they arrived at Cilicia, to guard him with exceeding strictness, and not to let anyone know in what part of the world he was. He himself, with Calligonus and Theodosius's treasures, which were very considerable, repaired to Byzantium. At that juncture, the Empress clearly proved to all that she knew how to recompense the murderous services which Antonina had rendered her, by even greater crimes committed to further her plans. Indeed, Antonina had only betrayed one man to her by her wiles, her enemy John of Cappadocia, but the Empress caused the death of a large number of innocent persons, whom she sacrificed to the vengeance of Antonina. The intimates of Belisarius and Photius were some of them flogged, although the only charge against them was their friendship for these two persons; and no one, to the present day, knows what afterwards became of them; while she sent others into exile, who were accused of the same crime--friendship for Photius and Belisarius. One of those who accompanied Photius to Ephesus, Theodosius by name, although he had attained the rank of senator, was deprived of all his property, and imprisoned by Theodora in an underground dungeon, where she kept him fastened to a kind of manger by a rope round his neck, which was so short that it was always quite tense and never slack. The wretched man was always forced to stand upright at this manger, and there to eat and sleep, and do all his other needs; there was no difference between him and an ass, save that he did not bray. No less than four months were passed by him in this condition, until he was seized with melancholy and became violently mad, upon which he was released from his prison and soon afterwards died. As for Belisarius, she forced him against his will to become reconciled to his wife Antonina. Photius, by her orders, was tortured like a slave, and was beaten with rods upon the back and shoulders, and ordered to disclose where Theodosius and the pander eunuch were. But he, although cruelly tortured, kept the oath which he had sworn inviolate; and although he was naturally weak and delicate, and had always been forced to take care of his health, and had never had any experience of ill-treatment or discomfort of any kind, yet he never revealed any of Belisarius's secrets. But afterwards all that had hitherto been kept secret came to light. Theodora discovered the whereabouts of Calligonus, and restored him to Antonina. She also found where Theodosius was, and had him conveyed to Byzantium, and, on his arrival, concealed him straightway in the palace. On the morrow she sent for Antonina, and said to her, "Dearest lady, a pearl fell into my hands yesterday, so beautiful that I think no one has ever seen its like. If you would like to see it, I will not grudge you the sight of it, but will gladly show it to you." Antonina, who did not understand what was going on, begged eagerly to be shown the pearl, whereupon Theodora led Theodosius by the hand out of the chamber of one of her eunuchs and displayed him to her. Antonina was at first speechless through excess of joy, and when she had recovered herself, warmly protested her gratitude to Theodora, whom she called her saviour, her benefactress, and truly her mistress. Theodora kept Theodosius in her palace, treated him with every luxury, and even boasted that, before long, she would appoint him generalissimo of the Roman armies. But divine justice, which carried him off through dysentery, prevented this. Theodora had at her disposal secret and absolutely secluded dungeons, so solitary and so dark that it was impossible to distinguish between night and day. In one of these she kept Photius imprisoned for a long time. He managed, however, to escape, not only once, but twice. The first time he took sanctuary in the Church of the Mother of God, which is one of the most sacred and famous churches in Byzantium, wherein he sat as a suppliant at the holy table; but she ordered him to be removed by main force and again imprisoned. The second time he fled to the Church of St. Sophia, and suddenly took refuge in the holy font, which is held in reverence by Christians above all other places; but the woman was able to drag him even from thence, for to her no place ever was sacred or unassailable; and she thought nothing of violating the holiest of sanctuaries. The Christian priests and people were struck with horror at her impiety, but nevertheless yielded and submitted to her in everything. Photius had lived in this condition for nearly three years, when the prophet Zacharias appeared to him in a dream, commanded him to escape, and promised his assistance. Relying upon this vision, he rose, escaped from his prison, and made his way to Jerusalem in disguise; though tens of thousands must have seen the youth, yet none recognised him. There he shaved off all his hair, assumed the monastic habit, and in this manner escaped the tortures which Theodora would have inflicted upon him. Belisarius took no account of the oaths which he had sworn, and made no effort to avenge Photius's sufferings, in spite of the solemn vows which he had made to do so. Hereafter, probably by God's will, all his warlike enterprises failed. Some time afterwards he was dispatched against the Medes and Chosroes, who had for the third time invaded the Roman Empire, and fell under suspicion of treachery, although he was considered to have performed a notable achievement in driving the enemy away from the frontier; but when Chosroes, after crossing the Euphrates, took the populous city of Callinikus without a blow, and made slaves of tens of thousands of Romans, Belisarius remained quiet, and never so much as offered to attack the enemy, whereby he incurred the reproach of either treachery or cowardice. CHAPTER IV About this time Belisarius underwent another disgrace. The people of Byzantium were ravaged by the pestilence of which I have already spoken. The Emperor Justinian was attacked by it so severely that it was reported that he had died. Rumour spread these tidings abroad till they reached the Roman camp, whereupon some of the chief officers said that, if the Romans set up any other emperor in Byzantium, they would not acknowledge him. Shortly after this, the Emperor recovered from his malady, whereupon the chiefs of the army accused one another of having used this language. The General Peter, and John, surnamed "The Glutton," declared that Belisarius and Buzes had used the words which I have just quoted. The Empress Theodora, thinking that these words applied to herself, was greatly enraged. She straightway summoned all the commanders to Byzantium to make an inquiry into the matter, and suddenly sent for Buzes to come into her private apartments, on the pretext of discussing important matters of business with him. There was in the palace an underground building, which was securely fastened, and as complicated as a labyrinth, and which might be compared to the nether world, wherein she kept imprisoned most of those who had offended her. Into this pit she cast Buzes; and although he was of a consular family, nothing was known for certain concerning him; as he sat in the darkness, he could not tell day from night; nor could he ask, for he who flung him his daily food never spoke, but acted like one dumb beast with another. All thought him dead, but none dared to mention him or allude to him. Two years and four months afterwards, Theodora relented and released him, and he appeared in the world like one raised from the dead; but ever afterwards he was short-sighted and diseased in body. Such was the fate of Buzes. Belisarius, although none of the charges brought against him could be proved, was removed by the Emperor, at the instance of Theodora, from the command of the army in the East, which was given to Martinus. The command of the Doryphori[8] and Hypaspitæ[9] of Belisarius, and of those of his servants who had distinguished themselves in war, was by his orders divided amongst the generals and certain of the palace eunuchs. They cast lots for these soldiers, together with their arms, and divided them amongst themselves as the lot fell. As for his friends and the many people who had before served under him, Justinian forbade them to visit him. Thus was seen in the city a piteous spectacle which men could scarce believe to be real, that of Belisarius simply a private individual, almost alone, gloomy and thoughtful, ever dreading to be set upon and assassinated. When the Empress learned that he had amassed much treasure in the East; she sent one of the palace eunuchs to fetch it away to the Court. Antonina, as I have already said, was now at variance with her husband, and the nearest and dearest friend of the Empress, because she had just destroyed John of Cappadocia. To please Antonina, the Empress arranged everything in such a fashion that she appeared to have pleaded for her husband's pardon, and to have saved him from these great disasters; whereby the unhappy man not only became finally reconciled to her, but her absolute slave, as though he had been preserved by her from death. This was brought about as follows: One day Belisarius came early to the palace as usual, accompanied by a small and miserable retinue. He was ungraciously received by the Emperor and Empress, and even insulted in their presence by low-born villains. He went home towards evening, often turning himself about, and looking in every direction for those whom he expected to set upon him. In this state of dread, he went up to his chamber, and sat down alone upon his couch, without a brave man's spirit, and scarce remembering that he had ever been a man, but bathed with sweat, his head dizzy, trembling and despairing, racked by slavish fears and utterly unmanly thoughts. Antonina, who knew nothing of what was going on, and was far from expecting what was about to come to pass, kept walking up and down the hall, on pretence of suffering from heartburn; for they still regarded each other with suspicion. Meanwhile, an officer of the palace, named Quadratus, came just after sunset, passed through the court, and suddenly appeared at the door of the men's apartments, saying that he brought a message from the Empress. Belisarius, on hearing him approach, drew up his hands and feet on to the bed, and lay on his back in the readiest posture to receive the final stroke, so completely had he lost his courage. Quadratus, before entering, showed him the Empress' letter. It ran as follows: "You are not ignorant, my good sir, of all your offences against me; but I owe so much to your wife, that I have determined to pardon all your offences for her sake, and I make her a present of your life. For the future you may be of good cheer as regards your life and fortune: we shall know by your future conduct what sort of husband you will be to your wife!" When Belisarius read this, he was greatly excited with joy, and, as he wished at the same time to give some present proof of his gratitude, he straightway rose, and fell on his face at his wife's feet. He embraced her legs with either hand, and kissed the woman's ankles and the soles of her feet, declaring that it was to her that he owed his life and safety, and that hereafter he would be her faithful slave, and no longer her husband. The Empress divided Belisarius's fortune into two parts; she gave thirty centenars of gold to the Emperor, and allowed Belisarius to keep the rest. Such was the fortune of the General Belisarius, into whose hands Fate had not long before given Gelimer and Vitiges as prisoners of war. The man's wealth had for a long time excited the jealousy of Justinian and Theodora, who considered it too great, and fit only for a king. They declared that he had secretly embezzled most of the property of Gelimer and Vitiges, which belonged to the State, and that he had restored a small part alone, and one hardly worthy of an Emperor's acceptance. But, when they thought of what great things the man had done, and how they would raise unpopular clamour against themselves, especially as they had no ground whatever for accusing him of peculation, they desisted; but, on this occasion, the Empress, having surprised him at a time when he was quite unmanned by fear, managed at one stroke to become mistress of his entire fortune; for she straightway established a relationship between them, betrothing Joannina, Belisarius's only daughter, to her grandson Anastasius. Belisarius now asked to be restored to his command, and to be nominated general of the army of the East, in order to conduct the war against Chosroes and the Medes, but Antonina would not permit this; she declared that she had been insulted by her husband in those countries, and never wished to see them again. For this reason Belisarius was appointed Constable,[10] and was sent for a second time into Italy, with the understanding, they say, with the Emperor, that he should not ask for any money to defray the cost of this war, but should pay all its expenses out of his own private purse. Everyone imagined that Belisarius made these arrangements with his wife and with the Emperor in order that he might get away from Byzantium, and, as soon as he was outside the city walls, straightway take up arms and do some brave and manly deed against his wife and his oppressors. But he made light of all that had passed, forgot the oaths which he had sworn to Photius and his other intimates, and followed his wife in a strange ecstasy of passion for her, though she was already sixty years of age. When he arrived in Italy, things went wrong with him daily, for he had clearly incurred the enmity of heaven. In his former campaign against Theodatus and Vitiges, the tactics which he had adopted as general, though they were not thought to be suitable to the circumstances, yet, as a rule, turned out prosperously: in this second campaign, he gained the credit of having laid his plans better, as was to be expected from his greater experience in the art of war; but, as matters for the most part turned out ill, people began to have a poor opinion of him and his judgment. So true it is that human affairs are guided, not by men's counsel, but by the influence of heaven, which we commonly call fortune, because we see how events happen, but know not the cause which determines them. Therefore, to that which seems to come to pass without reason is given the name of "chance." But this is a subject upon which everyone must form his own opinion. CHAPTER V At the end of Belisarius's second expedition to Italy, he was obliged to retire in disgrace; for, as I have told already, he was unable for a space of five years to effect a landing on the continent, because he had no stronghold there, but spent the whole time in hovering off the coast. Totila was very eager to meet him in the open field, but never found an opportunity, for both the Roman general and all the army were afraid to fight. For this reason he recovered nothing of all that had been lost, but even lost Rome as well, and pretty nearly everything else. During this time he became exceedingly avaricious and greedy for ignoble gain. Because he had received no funds from the Emperor, he plundered all the Italian peoples of Ravenna and Sicily, and the rest of Italy without mercy, by way of exacting vengeance for irregularities in their past lives. Thus he fell upon Herodianus, and asked him for money with the most dreadful threats; whereupon he, in his rage, threw off his allegiance to Rome and went over with his troops to Totila and the Goths, and handed over to them the town of Spoletum. I will now tell how Belisarius fell out with John, the nephew of Vitalianus, a matter which was exceedingly prejudicial to the interests of Rome. The Empress was so violently incensed against Germanus, and showed her dislike of him so plainly, that no one dared to connect himself with him by marriage, although he was the Emperor's nephew, and his children remained unmarried as long as she lived, while his daughter Justina was also without a husband at the age of eighteen. For this reason, when John was sent by Belisarius on a mission to Byzantium, Germanus was forced to enter upon negotiations with him with a view to marriage with his daughter, although such an alliance was far beneath him. When both had settled the matter to their satisfaction, they bound each other by the most solemn oaths, to use their best endeavours to bring about this alliance; for neither of them trusted the other, as John knew that he was seeking an alliance above his station, and Germanus despaired of finding another husband for his daughter. The Empress was beside herself at this, and endeavoured to thwart them in every possible way; but as her threats had no effect upon either, she openly threatened to put John to death. After this, John was ordered to return to Italy, and, fearing Antonina's designs upon him, held no further communication with Belisarius until her departure for Byzantium; for he had good reason to suspect that the Empress had sent instructions to Antonina to have him murdered; and when he considered the character of Antonina and Belisarius's infatuation for his wife, which made him yield to her in everything, he was greatly alarmed. From this time forth the power of Rome, which had long been unstable, utterly fell to the ground for want of capable support. Such were the fortunes of Belisarius in the Gothic war. After this, despairing of success, he begged the Emperor to allow him to leave Italy with all speed. When he heard that his prayer had been granted, he joyfully retired, bidding a long farewell to the Roman army and the Italians. He left the greater part of Italy in the enemy's power and Perusia in the last agonies of a terrible siege: while he was on his road home, it was taken, and endured all the miseries of a city taken by assault, as I have already related. In addition to his ill-success abroad, he also had to submit to a domestic misfortune, which came about as follows:--The Empress Theodora was eager to bring about the marriage of her grandson, Anastasius, with Belisarius's daughter, and wearied her parents with frequent letters on the subject; but they, not being desirous of contracting this alliance, put off the marriage until they could appear in person at Byzantium, and when the Empress sent for them, made the excuse that they could not leave Italy. But she persisted in her determination to make her grandson master of Belisarius's fortune, for she knew that the girl would be his heiress, as he had no other children. She did not, however, trust Antonina's character, and feared lest, after her own death, Antonina might prove unfaithful to her house, although she had found her so helpful in emergencies, and might break the compact. These considerations prompted her to a most abominable act. She made the boy and girl live together without any marriage ceremony, in violation of the laws. It is said that the girl was unwilling to cohabit with him, and that the Empress had her secretly forced to do so, that the marriage might be consummated by the dishonour of the bride, and so the Emperor might not be able to oppose it. After this had taken place, Anastasius and the girl fell passionately in love with each other, and lived together in this manner for eight months. Immediately after the Empress's death, Antonina came to Byzantium. She found it easy to ignore the outrage which Theodora had committed upon her, and, without considering that, if she united the girl to another, she would be no better than a harlot, she drove away Theodora's grandson with insults, and forcibly separated her daughter from the man whom she loved. This action caused her to be regarded as one of the most heartless women upon earth, but nevertheless the mother obtained, without any difficulty, Belisarius's approval of her conduct, on his return home. Thus did this man's true character reveal itself. Although he had sworn a solemn oath to Photius and to several of his intimates and broken it, yet all men readily forgave him, because they suspected that the reason of his faithlessness was not the dominion of his wife over him, but his fear of Theodora; but now that Theodora was dead, as I have told you, he thought nothing about Photius or any of his intimates, but entirely submitted to the sway of his wife, and her pander Calligonus. Then at last all men ceased to believe in him, scorned and flouted him, and railed at him for an idiot. Such were the offences of Belisarius, about which I have been obliged to speak freely in this place. In its proper place, I have said enough about the shortcomings of Sergius, the son of Bacchus, in Libya. I have told how he was the chief cause of the ruin of the Roman power in that country, how he broke the oath which he swore to the Levathae on the Gospels, and how he, without excuse, put to death the eighty ambassadors. I need only add in this place, that these men did not come to Sergius with any treacherous intent, and that Sergius had not the slightest reason for suspecting them, but having invited them to a banquet and taken an oath not to harm them, he cruelly butchered them. Solomon, the Roman army, and all the Libyans were lost owing to this crime; for, in consequence of what he had done, especially after Solomon's death, no officer or soldier would expose himself to the dangers of war. John, the son of Sisinniolus, was especially averse to taking the field, out of the hatred which he bore to Sergius, until Areobindus arrived in Libya. Sergius was effeminate and unwarlike, very young both in years and in mind, excessively jealous and insolent to all men, luxurious in his habits, and inflated with pride. However, after he had become the accepted husband of the niece of Antonina, Belisarius's wife, the Empress would not permit him to be punished in any way or removed from his office, although she saw distinctly that the state of affairs in Libya threatened its utter ruin; and she even induced the Emperor to pardon Solomon, Sergius's brother, for the murder of Pegasius. How this came to pass I will now explain. After Pegasius had ransomed Solomon from captivity among the Levathae, and the barbarians had returned home, Solomon and Pegasius, who had ransomed him, set out, accompanied by a few soldiers, to Carthage. On the way Pegasius reproached Solomon with the wrong he had done, and bade him remember that Heaven had only just rescued him from the enemy. Solomon, enraged at being taunted with his captivity, straightway slew Pegasius, and thus requited him for having ransomed him. But when Solomon reached Byzantium, the Emperor absolved him from the guilt of murder, on the pretext that he had slain a traitor to the Roman Empire, and gave him letters of acquittal. Solomon, having thus escaped all punishment for his crime, departed gladly for the East, to visit his own country and his family; but the vengeance of God fell upon him on the way, and removed him from amongst mankind. This is what happened in regard to Solomon and Pegasius. CHAPTER VI I now come to the description of the private life and character of Justinian and Theodora, and of the manner in which they rent the Roman Empire asunder. At the time when Leo occupied the imperial throne, three young husbandmen, of Illyrian birth, named Zimarchus, Ditybistus, and Justin of Bederiane, in order to escape from their utter poverty at home, determined to enlist in the army. They made their way to Byzantium on foot, with knapsacks of goat's-hair on their shoulders, containing nothing but a few biscuits which they had brought from home. On their arrival they were enrolled in the army, and chosen by the Emperor amongst the palace guards, being all three very handsome young men. Afterwards, when Anastasius succeeded to the throne, war broke out with the Isaurians who had rebelled against him. He sent a considerable army against them, under the command of John, surnamed "The Hunchback." This John arrested Justin for some offence and imprisoned him, and on the following day would have put him to death, had not a vision which he beheld in his sleep prevented him. He said that, in his dream, a man of great stature, and in every way more than human, bade him release the man whom he had that day cast into prison. When he awoke, he made light of this vision; and, although he saw again the same vision and heard the same words on the following night, not even then would he obey the command. But the vision appeared for the third time, and threatened him terribly if he did not do what he was commanded, and warned him that he would thereafter stand in great need of this man and his family when his wrath should fall upon him. Thus did Justin escape death. As time went on, this Justin rose to great power. The Emperor Anastasius appointed him commander of the palace guard, and when that prince died, he, by the influence of his position, seized the throne. He was by this time an old man with one foot in the grave, so utterly ignorant of letters, that one may say that he did not know the alphabet--a thing which had never happened before amongst the Romans. It had been customary for the Emperor to sign the decrees which were issued by him with his own hand, whereas he neither made decrees, nor was capable of conducting affairs; but Proclus, who acted as his quaestor and colleague, arranged everything at his own pleasure. However, in order that the Emperor's signature might appear in public documents, his officers invented the following device. They had the shapes of four Latin letters cut in a thin piece of wood, and then, having dipped the pen in the imperial ink used by the Emperors in writing, they put it in the Emperor's hand, and laying the piece of wood on the paper to be signed, they guided the Emperor's hand and pen round the outline of the four letters, making it follow all the convolutions cut in the wood, and then retired with the result as the Emperor's signature. This was how the affairs of the Empire were managed under Justin. His wife was named Lupicina; she was a slave and a barbarian, whom he had bought for his mistress, and at the close of his life she ascended the throne with him. Justin was not strong enough to do his subjects either good or harm; he was utterly simple, a very poor speaker, and a complete boor. Justinian was his sister's son, who, when quite a young man, practically governed the State, and brought more woe upon the Romans than anyone we have ever heard of before. He was ever ready to commit unrighteous murders and rob men of their estates, and thought nothing of making away with tens of thousands of men who had given him no cause for doing so. He had no respect for established institutions, but loved innovations in everything, and was, in short, the greatest destroyer of all the best of his country's institutions. As for the plague, of which I have made mention in the former books of my history, although it ravaged the whole earth, yet as many men escaped it as perished by it, some of them never taking the contagion, and others recovering from it. But no human being in all the Roman Empire could escape from this man, for he was like some second plague sent down from heaven to prey upon the whole human race, which left no man untouched. Some he slew without cause, others he reduced to a struggle with poverty, so that their case was more piteous than that of the dead, and they prayed daily to be relieved from their misery even by the most cruel death, while he robbed others of their lives and their property at the same time. Not content with ruining the Roman Empire, he carried out the conquest of Italy and Africa, merely that he might treat them in the same way, and destroy the inhabitants, together with those who were already his subjects. He had not been in authority ten days before he put to death Amantius, the chief of the palace eunuchs, with several others. He had no complaint whatever against the man beyond that he had said something offensive about John the archbishop of the city. Owing to this, he became the most dreaded of all men in the world. Immediately afterwards he sent for the usurper Vitalianus, to whom he had given the most solemn pledges for his safety, and had partaken of the Christian sacrament with him. Shortly afterwards, he conceived some suspicion of him, and made away with him and his companions in the palace, for no reason whatever, thus showing that he scorned to observe even the most solemn oaths. CHAPTER VII In the former part of my history I have explained how the people had long been divided into two factions. Justinian associated himself with one of these, the Blues, which had previously favoured him, and was thus enabled to upset everything and throw all into disorder. Thereby the Roman constitution was beaten to its knees. However, all the Blues did not agree to follow his views, but only those who were inclined to revolutionary measures. Yet, as the evil spread, these very men came to be regarded as the most moderate of mankind, for they used their opportunities of doing wrong less than they might have done. Nor did the revolutionists of the Green faction remain idle, but they also, as far as they were able, continually perpetrated all kinds of excesses, although individuals of their number were continually being punished. This only made them bolder, for men, when they are treated harshly, usually become desperate. At this time Justinian, by openly encouraging and provoking the Blue faction, shook the Roman Empire to its foundation, like an earthquake or a flood, or as though each city had been taken by the enemy. Everything was everywhere thrown into disorder; nothing was left alone. The laws and the whole fabric of the State were altogether upset, and became the very opposite of what they had been. First of all, the revolutionists altered the fashion of wearing the hair, for they cut it short, in a manner quite different to that of the rest of the Romans. They never touched the moustache and beard, but let them grow like the Persians: but they shaved the hair off the front part of their heads as far as the temples, and let it hang down long and in disorder behind, like the Massagetae. Wherefore they called this the Hunnic fashion of wearing the hair. In the next place they all chose to wear richly-embroidered dresses, far finer than became their several stations in life, but they were able to pay for them out of their illicit gains. The sleeves of their tunics were made as tight as possible at the wrists, but from thence to the shoulder were of an astounding width, and whenever they moved their hands, in applauding in the theatre or the hippodrome, or encouraging the competitors, this part of the tunic was waved aloft, to convey to the ignorant the impression that they were so beautifully made and so strong that they were obliged to wear such robes as these to cover their muscles. They did not perceive that the empty width of their sleeves only made their bodies appear even more stunted than they were. The cloaks, drawers and shoes which they mostly affected were called after the Huns, and made in their fashion. At first they almost all openly went about armed at night, but by day hid short two-edged swords upon their thighs under their cloaks. They gathered together in gangs as soon as it became dusk, and robbed respectable people in the market-place and in the narrow lanes, knocking men down and taking their cloaks, belts, gold buckles, and anything else that they had in their hands. Some they murdered as well as robbed, that they might not tell others what had befallen them. These acts roused the indignation of all men, even the least disaffected members of the Blue faction; but as they began not to spare even these, the greater part began to wear brazen belts and buckles and much smaller cloaks than became their station, lest their fine clothes should be their death, and, before the sun set, they went home and hid themselves. But the evil spread, and as the authorities in charge of the people did nothing to punish the criminals, these men became very daring; for crime, when encouraged to manifest itself openly, always increases enormously, seeing that even when punished it cannot be entirely suppressed. Indeed, most men are naturally inclined to evil-doing. Such was the behaviour of the Blues. As for the opposite faction, some of them joined the bands of their opponents, hoping thus to be able to avenge themselves upon the party which had ill-used them; some fled secretly to other lands, while many were caught on the spot and killed by their adversaries, or by order of the government. A number of young men also joined this party without having previously taken any interest in such matters, being attracted by the power and the licence which it gave them to do evil. Indeed, there was no sort of villany known amongst men which was not committed at this time unpunished. In the beginning men put away their own opponents, but, as time went on, they murdered men who had done them no hurt. Many bribed the Blues to kill their personal enemies, whom they straightway slew, and declared that they were Greens, though they might never have seen them before. And these things were not done in the dark or by stealth, but at all hours of the day and in every part of the city, before the eyes, as it might be, of the chief men of the State; for they no longer needed to conceal their crimes, because they had no fear of punishment; but to kill an unarmed passer-by with one blow was a sort of claim to public esteem, and a means of proving one's strength and courage. Life became so uncertain that people lost all expectation of security, for everyone continually had death before his eyes, and no place or time seemed to offer any hope of safety, seeing that men were slain indiscriminately in the holiest churches, and even during divine service. No one could trust friends or relations, for many were slain at the instance of their nearest of kin. No inquiry took place into such occurrences, but these blows fell unexpectedly upon everyone, and no one helped the fallen. Laws and contracts, which were considered confirmed, had no longer any force; everything was thrown into confusion and settled by violence. The government resembled a despotism, not a securely established one, but one which was changed almost daily, and was ever beginning afresh. The minds of the chief magistrates seemed stricken with consternation, and their spirits cowed by fear of one single man. The judges gave sentence on disputed points not according to what they thought to be lawful and right, but according as each of the litigants was a friend or an enemy of the ruling faction; for any judge who disregarded their instructions was punished with death. Many creditors also were compelled by main force to restore their bills to their debtors without having received anything of what was owing them, and many, against their will, had to bestow freedom upon their slaves. It is said that some ladies were forced to submit to the embraces of their own slaves; and the sons of leading men who had been mixed up with these youths, forced their fathers to hand over their property to them, and to do many other things against their will. Many boys, with their fathers' knowledge, were forced to undergo dishonour at the hands of the Blues, and women living with their own husbands were forced to submit to the like treatment. We are told that a woman, who was not over-well dressed, was sailing with her husband in a boat towards the suburb across the strait; they met on their way some men of this faction, who took her away from her husband with threats, and placed her in their own boat. When she entered the boat together with these young men, she secretly told her husband to take courage, and not to fear any evil for her. "Never," said she, "will I permit myself to be outraged;" and while her husband was gazing on her with the greatest sorrow, she sprang into the sea, and was never seen again. Such were the outrages which the people of this faction dared to commit in Byzantium. Yet all this did not so much gall the victims as Justinian's offences against the State; for those who suffer most cruelly from evil-doers are in great part consoled by the expectation that the law and the authorities will avenge them. If they have any hope for the future, men bear their present sufferings with a much lighter heart; but when they are outraged by the established government, they are naturally much more hurt by the evil which befalls them, and the improbability of redress drives them to despair. Justinian's fault was, not only that he turned a deaf ear to the complaints of the injured, but did not even disdain to behave himself as the avowed chief of this party; that he gave great sums of money to these youths, and kept many of them in his own retinue; that he even went so far as to appoint some of them to governments and other official posts. CHAPTER VIII These excesses took place not only in Byzantium, but in every city of the Empire: for these disorders were like bodily diseases, and spread from thence over the whole Roman Empire. But the Emperor cared not at all for what was going on, although he daily beheld what took place in the hippodrome, for he was exceedingly stupid, very much like a dull-witted ass, which follows whoever holds its bridle, shaking its ears the while. This behaviour on the part of Justinian ruined everything. As soon as he found himself the head of his uncle's empire, he at once did his utmost to squander the public treasure over which he now had control. For he lavished wealth extravagantly upon the Huns who from time to time came across and, ever afterwards, the Roman provinces were subjected to constant incursions; for these barbarians, having once tasted our wealth, could not tear themselves away from the road which led to it. Justinian also threw away great sums upon the construction of large moles, as if he thought to restrain the force of the never-resting waves. He ran out stone breakwaters from the beach far into the water to divert the currents of the ocean, and, as it were, to match his wealth against the power of the sea. As for the private fortunes of individual Romans, he confiscated them for his own use in all parts of the empire, either by accusing their possessors of some crime of which they were innocent, or by distorting their words into a free gift of their property to him. Many were convicted on these charges of murder and other crimes, and in order to escape paying the penalty for them, gave him all that they had. Some who were engaged in making frivolous claims to land belonging to their neighbours, when they found that they had no chance of winning their cause, as the law was against them, would make him a present of the land in dispute, and so get out of the difficulty. Thus they gained his favour by a gift that cost them nothing, and got the better of their adversaries by the most illegal means. It will not be out of place, I think, to describe his personal appearance. He was neither tall nor too short, but of a medium height, not thin, but inclined to be fat. His face was round and not ill-favoured, and showed colour, even after a two days' fast. In a word, he greatly resembled Domitian, Vespasian's son, more than anybody else. This was the Emperor whom the Romans detested so much that they could not slake their hatred for him, even when they had torn him to pieces, but a decree of the Senate was passed to remove his name from all documents, and that all statues of him should be destroyed; wherefore his name has been erased from every inscription at Rome and everywhere else, except where it occurs in a list together with other emperors, and no statue of him is to be found in the Roman Empire, save one only, the history of which is as follows: Domitian had married a lady of noble birth and admirable conduct, who never harmed anyone, and always disapproved of her husband's evil deeds. As she was so much beloved, the Senate sent for her, after the death of Domitian, and bade her ask whatever favour she pleased. All that she asked was to receive Domitian's body for burial, and permission to erect a bronze statue to him in whatever place she might choose. The Senate consented, and Domitian's wife, not wishing to leave to posterity a memorial of the brutality of those who had butchered her husband, adopted the following plan. She collected the pieces of his body, pieced them accurately together, joined them properly, and sewed the body together again. She then sent for the statuaries, and bade them reproduce this pitiable object in a brazen statue. The workmen straightway made the statue, and his wife, having received it from them, set it up in the street which leads up to the Capitol from the Forum, on the right hand side, where to this day one may see Domitian's statue, showing the marks of his tragic end. One may say that the whole of Justinian's person, his expression, and all his features can be traced in this statue. Such was his portrait; but it would be exceedingly difficult to give an accurate estimate of his character; he was an evil-doer, and yet easily led by the nose, being, in common parlance, a fool as well as a knave. He never was truthful with anyone, but always spoke and acted cunningly, yet any who chose could easily outwit him. His character was a sorry mixture of folly and bad principles. One may say of him what one of the Peripatetic philosophers of old said long ago, that in men, as in the mixing of colours, the most opposite qualities combine. I will therefore only describe his disposition as far as I have been able to fathom it. This prince was deceitful, fond of crooked ways, artificial, given to hiding his wrath, double-faced, and cruel, exceedingly clever in concealing his thoughts, and never moved to tears either by joy or grief, but capable of weeping if the occasion required it. He was always a liar not merely on the spur of the moment; he drew up documents and swore the most solemn oaths to respect the covenants which he made with his subjects; then he would straightway break his plighted word and his oath, like the vilest of slaves, who perjure themselves and are only driven to confess through fear of torture. He was a faithless friend, an inexorable foe, and mad for murder and plunder; quarrelsome and revolutionary, easily led to do evil, never persuaded to act rightly, he was quick to contrive and carry out what was evil, but loathed even to hear of good actions. How could any man fully describe Justinian's character? He had all these vices and other even greater ones, in larger proportion than any man; indeed, Nature seemed to have taken away all other men's vices and to have implanted them all in this man's breast. Besides all this, he was ever disposed to give ear to accusations, and quick to punish. He never tried a case before deciding it, but as soon as he had heard the plaintiff he straightway pronounced his judgment upon it. He wrote decrees, without the slightest hesitation, for the capture of fortresses, the burning of cities, the enslaving of whole races of men for no crime whatever, so that, if anyone were to reckon all the calamities of this nature which have befallen the Roman people before his time, and weigh them against those which were brought about by him, I imagine that it would be found that this man was guilty of far more bloodshed than any ruler of previous times. He had no hesitation in coolly appropriating people's property, and did not even trouble himself to put forward any pretext or colourable legal ground for taking another man's goods; and, when he had got it, he was quite ready to squander it in foolish munificence or to spend it in unreasonable largesses to the barbarians. In fine, he neither had any property himself, nor would he suffer anyone else of all his subjects to have any; so that he did not seem to be so much governed by avarice as by jealousy of those who possessed wealth. He carelessly drove all the wealth of the Romans out of the country, and was the cause of general impoverishment. Such was the character of Justinian, as far as I am able to describe it. CHAPTER IX As for Justinian's wife, I shall now describe her birth, how she was brought up, how she married him, and how in conjunction with him she utterly ruined the Roman Empire. There was one Acacius at Byzantium, of the Green faction, who was keeper of the wild beasts used in the amphitheatre, and was called the Bear-keeper. This man died of some malady during the reign of Anastasius, and left three daughters, Comito, Theodora and Anastasia, the eldest of whom was not yet seven years of age. His widow married her husband's successor in his house and profession; but the chief dancer of the Green faction, named Asterius, was easily bribed into taking away the office from this man and giving it to one who paid him for it: for the dancers had the power to manage these matters as they pleased. When Theodora's mother saw the whole populace assembled in the amphitheatre to see the show of the wild beasts, she placed fillets on her daughters' heads and hands, and made them sit in the attitude of suppliants. The Greens regarded their appeal with indifference, but the Blues, who had lately lost their own bear-keeper, bestowed the office upon them. As the children grew up, their mother straightway sent them on the stage, for they were handsome girls. She did not send them on all at once, but as each one arrived at a fit age so to do. The eldest girl, Comito, had already become one of the most celebrated prostitutes of her time. Theodora, the next eldest, was dressed in a little sleeved tunic, such as a slave-girl would wear, and waited on her sister, carrying on her shoulders the stool in which she was wont to sit in public. Theodora was still too young to have intercourse with a man after the manner of women, but she satisfied the unnatural passions of certain wretches, even the vilest slaves, who followed their masters to the theatre and amused their leisure by this infamy. She remained for some time also in a brothel, where she practised this hateful form of vice. As soon, however, as she reached the age of puberty, as she was handsome, her mother sent her into the theatrical troupe, and she straightway became a simple harlot, as old-fashioned people called it; for she was neither a musician nor a dancer, but merely prostituted herself to everyone whom she met, giving up every part of her body to debauchery. She associated chiefly with the theatrical "pantomimes," and took part in their performances, playing in comic scenes, for she was exceedingly witty and amusing; so that she soon became well known by her acting. She had no shame whatever, and no one ever saw her put out of countenance, but she lent herself to scandalous purposes without the least hesitation. She excelled in raising a laugh by being slapped on her puffed-out cheeks, and used to uncover herself so far as to show the spectators everything before and behind which decency forbids to be shown to men. She stimulated her lovers by lascivious jests, and continually invented new postures of coition, by which means she completely won the hearts of all libertines; for she did not wait to be solicited by anyone whom she met, but herself, with joke and gestures, invited everyone whom she fell in with, especially beardless boys. She never succumbed to these transports; for she often went to a supper at which each one paid his share, with ten or more young men, in the full vigour of their age and practised in debauchery, and would pass the whole night with all of them. When they were all exhausted, she would go to their servants, thirty in number, it may be, and fornicate with each one of them; and yet not even so did she quench her lust. Once she went to the house of some great man, and while the guests were drinking pulled up her clothes on the edge of the couch and did not blush to exhibit her wantonness without reserve. Though she received the male in three orifices she nevertheless complained of Nature for not having made the passage of her breasts wider, that she might contrive a new form of coition in that part of her person also. She frequently became pregnant, but as she employed all known remedies without delay, she promptly procured abortion. Often, even on the stage, she stripped before the eyes of all the people, and stood naked in their midst, wearing only a girdle about her private parts and groin; not because she had any modesty about showing that also to the people, but because no one was allowed to go on the stage without a girdle about those parts. In this attitude she would throw herself down on the floor, and lie on her back. Slaves, whose duty it was, would then pour grains of barley upon her girdle, which trained geese would then pick up with their beaks one by one and eat. She did not blush or rise up, but appeared to glory in this performance; for she was not only without shame, but especially fond of encouraging others to be shameless, and often would strip naked in the midst of the actors, and swing herself backwards and forwards, explaining to those who had already enjoyed her and those who had not, the peculiar excellences of that exercise. She proceeded to such extremities of abuse as to make her face become what most women's private parts are: wherefore her lovers became known at once by their unnatural tastes, and any respectable man who met her in the public streets turned away, and made haste to avoid her, lest his clothes should be soiled by contact with such an abandoned creature, for she was a bird of ill-omen, especially for those who saw her early in the day. As for her fellow-actresses, she always abused them most savagely, for she was exceedingly jealous. Afterwards she accompanied Hecebolus, who had received the appointment of Governor of Pentapolis, to that country, to serve his basest passions, but quarrelled with him, and was straightway sent out of the country. In consequence of this she fell into want of common necessaries, with which she hereafter provided herself by prostitution, as she had been accustomed to do. She first went to Alexandria, and afterwards wandered all through the East, until she reached Byzantium, plying her trade in every city on her way--a trade which, I imagine, Heaven will not pardon a man for calling by its right name--as if the powers of evil would not allow any place on earth to be free from the debaucheries of Theodora. Such was the birth, and such the training of this woman, and her name became better known than that of any other prostitute of her time. On her return to Byzantium, Justinian became excessively enamoured of her. At first he had intercourse with her merely as her lover, although he raised her to the position of a patrician. By this means Theodora was straightway enabled to gain very great influence and to amass considerable sums of money. She charmed Justinian beyond all the world, and, like most infatuated lovers, he delighted to show her all the favour and give her all the money that he could. This lavishness added fuel to the flame of passion. In concert with her he plundered the people more than ever, not only in the capital, but throughout the Roman Empire; for, as both of them had for a long time been members of the Blue faction, they had placed unlimited power in its hands, although the evil was subsequently somewhat checked, in the manner which I will now relate. Justinian had for some time suffered from a dangerous illness; in fact, it was even reported that he was dead. The Blue faction were committing the crimes of which I have spoken, and slew Hypatius, a person of consequence, in the Church of St. Sophia, in broad daylight. When the murderer had accomplished his work, clamour was raised which reached the Emperor's ears, and all his courtiers seized upon the opportunity of pointing out the outrageous character of the offence which, owing to Justinian's absence from public affairs, the murderer had been enabled to perpetrate, and enumerated all the crimes that had been committed from the outset. Hereupon the Emperor gave orders to the prefect of the city to punish these crimes. This man was named Theodotus, nick-named Colocynthius.[11] He instituted an inquiry into the whole matter, and had the courage to seize and put to death, according to the law, many of the malefactors, several of whom, however, hid themselves and so escaped, being destined to perish afterwards together with the Roman Empire. Justinian, who miraculously recovered, straightway began to plan the destruction of Theodotus, on the pretext that he was a magician and used philtres. However, as he found no proofs on which the man could be condemned, he flogged and tortured some of his intimates until he forced them to make most unfounded accusations against him. When no one dared to oppose Justinian, but silently bewailed the plot against Theodotus, Proclus, the Quaestor, alone declared that the man was innocent and did not deserve to die. Theodotus was therefore sentenced by the Emperor to banishment to Jerusalem. But, learning that certain men had been sent thither to assassinate him, he took sanctuary in the temple, where he spent the rest of his life in concealment until he died. Such was the end of Theodotus. From this time forth, however, the Blue party behaved with the greatest moderation; they did not venture to perpetrate such crimes, although they had it in their power to abuse their authority more outrageously and with greater impunity than before. Here is a proof of this; when a few of them afterwards showed the same audacity in evil-doing, they were not punished in any way; for those who had the power to punish always gave malefactors an opportunity to escape, and by this indulgence encouraged them to trample upon the laws. CHAPTER X As long as the Empress Euphemia was alive, Justinian could not contrive to marry Theodora. Though she did not oppose him on any other point, she obstinately refused her consent to this one thing. She was altogether free from vice, although she was a homely person and of barbarian descent, as I have already said. She never cultivated any active virtues, but remained utterly ignorant of State affairs. She did not bear her own name, which was a ridiculous one, when she came to the palace, but was re-named Euphemia. Soon afterwards, however, she died. Justin was in his second childhood and so sunk in senility that he was the laughing-stock of his subjects. All despised him utterly, and disregarded him because he was incompetent to control State affairs, but they paid their court to Justinian with awe, for he terrified them all by his love of disturbance and reckless innovations. He then resolved to bring about his marriage with Theodora. It was forbidden by the most ancient laws of the State that anyone of the senatorial order should marry a courtesan; so he prevailed upon the Emperor to repeal the existing law and introduce a new one, whereby he was allowed to live with Theodora as his legitimate wife, and it became possible for anyone else to marry a courtesan. He also straightway assumed the demeanour of absolute despot, veiling his forcible seizure of power under the pretext of reasons of State. He was proclaimed Emperor of the Romans, as his uncle's colleague. Whether this was legal or not may be doubted, since he owed his election to the terror with which he inspired those who gave him their votes. So Justinian and Theodora ascended the Imperial throne three days before Easter, at a time when it is forbidden to make visits or even to greet one's friends. A few days later Justin was carried off by disease, after a reign of nine years, and Justinian and Theodora reigned alone. Thus did Theodora, as I have told you, in spite of her birth and bringing-up, reach the throne without finding any obstacle in her way. Justinian felt no shame at having wedded her, although he might have chosen the best born, the best educated, the most modest and virtuously nurtured virgin in all the Roman Empire, with outstanding breasts, as the saying is; whereas he preferred to take to himself the common refuse of all mankind, and without a thought of all that has been told, married a woman stained with the shame of many abortions and many other crimes. Nothing more, I conceive, need be said about this creature's character, for all the vices of his heart are thoroughly displayed in the fact of so unworthy a marriage. When a man feels no shame at an act of this kind, and braves the loathing of the world, there is thereafter no path of wickedness which may not be trodden by him, but, with a face incapable of blushing, he plunges, utterly devoid of scruple, into the deepest baseness. However, no one in the Senate had the courage to show dissatisfaction at seeing the State fasten this disgrace upon itself, but all were ready to worship Theodora as if she had been a goddess. Neither did any of the clergy show any indignation, but bestowed upon her the title of "Lady." The people who had formerly seen her upon the stage now declared themselves, with uplifted hands, to be her slaves, and made no secret of the name. None of the army showed irritation at having to face the dangers of war in the service of Theodora, nor did anyone of all mankind offer her the least opposition. All, I suppose, yielded to circumstances, and suffered this disgraceful act to take place, as though Fortune had wished to display her power by disposing human affairs so that events came about in utter defiance of reason, and human counsel seemed to have no share in directing them. Fortune does thus raise men suddenly to great heights of power, by means in which reason has no share, in spite of all obstacles that may bar the way, for nothing can check her course, but she proceeds straight on towards her goal, and everything makes way for her. But let all this be, and be represented as it pleases God. Theodora was at this time handsome and of a graceful figure, but she was short, without much colour, but rather of a pale complexion, and with brilliant and piercing eyes. It would take a life-time to tell of all her adventures during her theatrical life, but I think what little I have selected above will be sufficient to give an indication of her character. We must now briefly set forth what she and her husband did, for during their married life neither ever did anything without the other. For a long time they appeared to all to be at variance both in their characters and in their actions; but afterwards this disagreement was seen to have been purposely arranged between them, in order that their subjects might not come to an agreement and rise against them, but might all be divided in their opinion. First, they split up the Christians into two parties and brought them to ruin, as I shall tell you hereafter, by this plan of pretending to take different sides. Next they created divisions amongst the State factions. Theodora feigned to be an eager partisan of the Blues, and gave them permission to commit the greatest atrocities and deeds of violence against the opposite faction, while Justinian pretended to be grieved and annoyed in his secret soul, as though he could not oppose his wife's orders; and often they would pretend to act in opposition. The one would declare that the Blues must be punished because they were evil-doers, while the other pretended to be enraged, and angrily declared that she was overruled by her husband against her will. Yet, as I have said, the Blue faction seemed wondrously quiet, for they did not outrage their neighbours as much as they might have done. In legal disputes, each of them would pretend to favour one of the litigants, and of necessity made the man with the worse case win; by this means they plundered both the parties of most of the disputed property. The Emperor received many persons into his intimacy, and gave them appointments with liberty to do what they pleased in the way of violent injustice and fraud against the State; but when they were seen to have amassed a considerable amount of wealth, they straightway fell into disgrace for having offended the Empress. At first Justinian would take upon himself to inquire kindly into their case, but soon he would drop the pretence of good-will, and his zeal on their behalf would throw the whole matter into confusion. Upon this, Theodora would treat them in the most shameful way, while he, pretending not to understand what was going on, would shamelessly confiscate their entire property. They used to carry on these machinations by appearing to be at variance, while really playing into each other's hands, and were thus able to set their subjects by their ears and firmly establish their own power. CHAPTER XI When Justinian came to the throne, he straightway succeeded in upsetting everything. What had previously been forbidden by the laws he introduced, while he abolished all existing institutions, as though he had assumed the imperial robe for no other purpose than to alter completely the form of government. He did away with existing offices, and established other new ones for the management of affairs. He acted in the same manner in regard to the laws and the army; not that he was led to do so by any love of justice or the public advantage, but merely in order that all institutions might be new and might bear his name; if there was any institution that he was unable to abolish at once, he gave it his name, that at least it might appear new. He could never satisfy his insatiable desire, either of money or blood; but after he had plundered one wealthy house, he would seek for another to rob, and straightway squander the plunder upon subsidies to barbarians, or senseless extravagance in building. After he had destroyed his victims by tens of thousands, he immediately began to lay plots against even greater numbers. As the Roman Empire was at peace with foreign nations, his impatience of quiet led him, out of uncontrollable love of bloodshed, to set the barbarians fighting with one another. Sending for the chieftains of the Huns for no reason whatever, he took a pride in lavishing great sums of money upon them, under the pretext of securing their friendship, just as he did in the time of the Emperor Justin, as I have already told you. These Huns, when they had got the money, sent to some of their fellow-chieftains with their retainers, and bade them make inroads into the Emperor's territory, that they also might make a bargain with him for the peace which he was so ready to purchase. These men straightway subjugated the Empire, and nevertheless remained in the Emperor's pay; and, following their examples, others straightway began to harass the wretched Romans, and, after they had secured their booty, were graciously rewarded by the Emperor for their invasion. Thus the whole Hunnish nation, one tribe after another, never ceased at any time to lay waste and plunder the Empire; for these barbarians are under several independent chieftains, and the war, having once begun through his foolish generosity, never came to an end, but always kept beginning anew; so that, during this time, there was no mountain, no cave, no spot whatever in the Roman Empire that remained unravaged, and many countries were harried and plundered by the enemy more than five several times. These calamities, and those which were brought upon the Empire by the Medes, the Saracens, the Sclavonians, the Antes, and other barbarians, I have described in the previous books of my history; but, as I have said at the beginning of this story, I was here obliged to explain the causes which led thereto. Justinian paid Chosroes many centenars in order to secure peace, and then, with unreasonable arbitrariness, did more than anyone to break the truce, by employing every effort to bring Alamundur and his Huns over to his own side, as I have already set forth in plain terms in my history. While he was stirring up all this strife and war to plague the Romans, he also endeavoured, by various devices, to drench the earth in human blood, to carry off more riches for himself, and to murder many of his subjects. He proceeded as follows. There prevail in the Roman Empire many Christian doctrines which are known as heresies, such as those of the Montanists and Sabbatians and all the others by which men's minds are led astray. Justinian ordered all these beliefs to be abandoned in favour of the old religion, and threatened the recusants with legal disability to transmit their property to their wives and children by will. The churches of these so-called heretics--especially those belonging to the Arian heresy--were rich beyond belief. Neither the whole of the Senate, or any other of the greatest corporations in the Roman Empire, could be compared with these churches in wealth. They had gold and silver plate and jewels more than any man could count or describe; they owned many mansions and villages, and large estates everywhere, and everything else which is reckoned and called wealth among men. As none of the previous Emperors had interfered with them, many people, even of the orthodox faith, procured, through this wealth, work and the means of livelihood. But the Emperor Justinian first of all sequestrated all the property of these churches, and suddenly took away all that they possessed, by which many people lost the means of subsistence. Many agents were straightway sent out to all parts of the Empire to force whomsoever they met to change the faith of his forefathers. These homely people, considering this an act of impiety, decided to oppose the Emperor's agents. Hereupon many were put to death by the persecuting faction, and many made an end of themselves, thinking, in their superstitious folly, that this course best satisfied the claims of religion; but the greater part of them voluntarily quitted the land of their forefathers, and went into exile. The Montanists, who were settled in Phrygia, shut themselves up in their churches, set them on fire, and perished in the flames; and, from this time forth, nothing was to be seen in the Roman Empire except massacres and flight. Justinian straightway passed a similar law with regard to the Samaritans, which produced a riot in Palestine. In my own city of Caesarea and other cities, the people, thinking that it was a foolish thing to suffer for a mere senseless dogma, adopted, in place of the name which they had hitherto borne, the appellation of "Christians," and so avoided the danger with which they were threatened by this law. Such of them as had any claims to reason and who belonged to the better class, thought it their duty to remain stedfast to their new faith; but the greater part, as though out of pique at having been forced against their will by the law to abandon the faith of their fathers, adopted the belief of the Manicheans, or what is known as Polytheism. But all the country people met together in a body and determined to take up arms against the Emperor. They chose a leader of their own, named Julian, the son of Sabarus, and for some time held their own in the struggle with the Imperial troops, but were at last defeated and cut to pieces, together with their leader. It is said that one hundred thousand men fell in this engagement, and the most fertile country on the earth has ever since been without cultivators. This did great harm to the Christian landowners in that country, for, although they received nothing from their property, yet they were forced to pay heavy taxes yearly to the Emperor for the rest of their lives, and no abatement or relief from this burden was granted to them. After this he began to persecute those who were called Gentiles, torturing their persons and plundering their property. All of these people, who decided to adopt the Christian faith nominally, saved themselves for the time, but not long afterwards most of them were caught offering libations and sacrifices and performing other unholy rites. How he treated the Christians I will subsequently relate. Next he forbade paederasty by law, and he made this law apply not only to those who transgressed it after it had been passed, but even to those who had practised this wickedness long before. The law was applied to these persons in the loosest fashion, the testimony of one man or boy, who possibly might be a slave unwilling to bear witness against his master, was held to be sound evidence. Those who were convicted were carried through the city, after having had their genitals cut off. This cruelty was not at first practised against any except those who belonged to the Green faction or were thought to be very rich, or had otherwise offended. Justinian and Theodora also dealt very harshly with the astrologers, so that the officers appointed to punish thieves proceeded against these men for no other cause than that they were astrologers, dealt many stripes on their backs, and paraded them on camels through the city; yet they were old and respectable men, against whom no reproach could be brought except that they dwelt in Byzantium and were learned about the stars. There was a continual stream of emigration, not only to the lands of the barbarians, but also to the nations most remote from Rome; and one saw a very great number of foreigners both in the country and in each city of the Empire, for men lightly exchanged their native land for another, as though their own country had been captured by an enemy. CHAPTER XII Those who were considered the wealthiest persons in Byzantium and the other cities of the Empire, next after members of the Senate, were robbed of their wealth by Justinian and Theodora in the manner which I have described above. I shall now describe how they managed to take away all the property of members of the Senate. There was at Constantinople one Zeno, the grandson of that Anthemius who formerly had been Emperor of the West. They sent this man to Egypt as governor. He delayed his departure, while he loaded his ship with precious valuables; for he had silver beyond any man's counting, and gold plate set with pearls and emeralds, and with other like precious stones. But Justinian and Theodora bribed some of those who passed for his most faithful servants, to take everything out of the ship as fast as they could, set it on fire in the hold, and then go and tell Zeno that his ship had taken fire of its own accord, and that all his property was lost. Some time after this Zeno died suddenly, and they took possession of his property as his heirs, producing a will which, it is currently reported, was never made by him. In like manner they made themselves the heirs of Tatian, of Demosthenes, and of Hilara, persons who at that time held the first rank in the Roman Senate. They obtained other persons' fortunes by the production, not of formal wills, but of counterfeit conveyances. This was how they became the heirs of Dionysius, who dwelt in Libanus, and of John the son of Basil, who was the leading man in Edessa, and had been delivered up to the Persians as a hostage against his will by Belisarius, as I have told already. Chosroes kept this John a prisoner, and refused to let him go, declaring that the Romans had not performed all the terms of the treaty for which John had been given in pledge by Belisarius, but he was prepared to let him be ransomed as a prisoner of war. His grandmother, who was still alive, got together the money for his ransom, not less than two thousand pounds of silver, and would have ransomed her grandson; but when this money arrived at Dara, the Emperor heard of the transaction and forbade it, that the wealth of Romans might not be conveyed to barbarians. Not long after this John fell ill and died; whereupon the governor of the city forged a letter which he said John had written to him as a friend not long before, to the effect that he desired the Emperor to succeed to his property. I could not give the list of all the other people whose heirs Justinian and Theodora became by the free will of the testators. However, up to the time of the insurrection called Nika, they only plundered rich men of their property one by one; but when this broke out, as I have described in my former works, they then sequestrated nearly all the property of the Senate. They laid their hands upon all movables and the finest parts of the estates, but set apart such lands as were burdened with grievous imposts, and, under pretence of kindness, restored them to their former possessors. So these people, oppressed by the tax-gatherers, and tormented by the never-ceasing interest to be paid upon their debts, became weary of their lives. For the reasons which I have stated, I, and many of my position, never believed that they were really two human beings, but evil demons, and what the poets call scourges of mankind, who laid their heads together to see how they could fastest and most easily destroy the race and the works of man, but who had assumed human forms, and become something between men and demons, and thus convulsed the whole world. One can find proofs of this theory more particularly in the superhuman power with which they acted. There is a wide distinction between the human and the supernatural. Many men have been born in every age who, either by circumstances or their own character, have shown themselves terrible beings, who became the ruin of cities, countries, and whatever else fell into their hands; but to destroy all men and to ruin the whole earth has been granted to none save these two, who have been helped by Fortune in their schemes to destroy the whole human race. For, about this time, much ruin was caused by earthquakes, pestilences and inundations of rivers, as I shall immediately tell you. Thus it was not by mere human power, but by something greater, that they were enabled to work their evil will. It is said that Justinian's mother told some of her intimates that Justinian was not the son of Sabbatius, her husband, or of any human being; but that, at the time when she became pregnant, an unseen demon companied with her, whom she only felt as when a man has connection with a woman, and who then vanished away as in a dream. Some who have been in Justinian's company in the palace very late at night, men with a clear conscience, have thought that in his place they have beheld a strange and devilish form. One of them said that Justinian suddenly arose from his royal throne and walked about (although, indeed, he never could sit still for long), and that at that moment his head disappeared, while the rest of his body still seemed to move to and fro. The man who beheld this stood trembling and troubled in mind, not knowing how to believe his eyes. Afterwards the head joined the body again, and united itself to the parts from which it had so strangely been severed. Another declared that he stood beside Justinian as he sat, and of a sudden his face turned into a shapeless mass of flesh, without either eyebrows or eyes in their proper places, or anything else which makes a man recognisable; but after a while he saw the form of his face come back again. What I write here I did not see myself, but I heard it told by men who were positive that they had seen it. They say, too, that a certain monk, highly in favour with God, was sent to Byzantium by those who dwelt with him in the desert, to beg that favour might be shown to their neighbours, who had been wronged and outraged beyond endurance. When he arrived at Byzantium, he straightway obtained an audience of the Emperor; but just as he was about to enter his apartment, he started back, and, turning round, suddenly withdrew. The eunuch, who was escorting him, and also the bystanders, besought him earnestly to go forward, but he made no answer, but like one who has had a stroke of the palsy, made his way back to his lodging. When those who had come with him asked why he acted thus, they say that he distinctly stated that he saw the chief of the devils sitting on his throne in the midst of the palace, and he would not meet him or ask anything of him. How can one believe this man to have been anything but an evil demon, who never took his fill of drink, food, or sleep, but snatched at the meals which were set before him anyhow, and roamed about the palace at untimely hours of the night, and yet was so passionately addicted to venery. Some of Theodora's lovers, when she was still on the stage, declare that a demon had fallen upon them and driven them out of her bedchamber that it might pass the night with her. There was a dancer named Macedonia, who belonged to the Blue faction at Antioch, and had very great influence with Justinian. This woman used to write letters to him while Justin was still on the throne, and thus easily made away with any great man in the East whom she chose, and caused their property to be confiscated for the public use. They say that this Macedonia once greeted Theodora, when she saw her very much troubled and cast down at the ill-treatment which she had received at the hands of Hecebolius, and at the loss of her money on her journey, and encouraged and cheered her, bidding her remember the fickleness of fortune, which might again grant her great possessions. They say that Theodora used to tell how, that night, she had a dream which bade her take no thought about money, for that when she came to Byzantium, she would share the bed of the chief of the demons; that she must manage by all means to become his wedded wife, and that afterwards she would have all the wealth of the world at her disposal. This was the common report in regard to these matters. CHAPTER XIII Although Justinian's character was such as I have already explained, he was easy of access, and affable to those whom he met. No one was ever denied an audience, and he never was angry even with those who did not behave or speak properly in his presence. But, on the other hand, he never felt ashamed of any of the murders which he committed. However, he never displayed any anger or pettishness against those who offended him, but preserved a mild countenance and an unruffled brow, and with a gentle voice would order tens of thousands of innocent men to be put to death, cities to be taken by storm, and property to be confiscated. One would think, from his manner, that he had the character of a sheep; but if anyone, pitying his victims, were to endeavour, by prayers and supplications, to make him relent, he would straightway become savage, show his teeth, and vent his rage upon his subjects. As for the priests, he let them override their neighbours with impunity, and delighted to see them plunder those round about them, thinking that in this manner he was showing piety. Whenever he had to decide any lawsuit of this sort, he thought that righteous judgment consisted in letting the priest win his cause and leave the court in triumph with some plunder to which he had no right whatever; for, to him, justice meant the success of the priest's cause. He himself, when by malpractices he had obtained possession of the property of people, alive or dead, would straightway present his plunder to one of the churches, by which means he would hide his rapacity under the cloak of piety, and render it impossible for his victims ever to recover their possessions. Indeed, he committed numberless murders through his notion of piety; for, in his zeal to bring all men to agree in one form of Christian doctrine, he recklessly murdered all who dissented therefrom, under the pretext of piety, for he did not think that it was murder, if those whom he slew were not of the same belief as himself. Thus, his thoughts were always fixed upon slaughter, and, together with his wife, he neglected no excuse which could bring it about; for both of these beings had for the most part the same passions, but sometimes they played a part which was not natural to them; for each of them was thoroughly wicked, and by their pretended differences of opinion, brought their subjects to ruin. Justinian's character was weaker than water, and anyone could lead him whither he would, provided it was not to commit any act of kindness or incur the loss of money. He especially delighted in flattery, so that his flatterers could easily make him believe that he should soar aloft and tread upon the clouds. Once indeed, Tribonianus, when sitting by him, declared that he was afraid that some day Justinian would be caught up into heaven because of his righteousness, and would be lost to men. Such praises, or rather sneers, as these he constantly bore in mind; yet, if he admired any man for his goodness, he would shortly afterwards upbraid him for a villain, and after having railed at one of his subjects without any cause, he would suddenly take to praising him, having changed his mind on no grounds whatever; for what he really thought was always the opposite of what he said, and wished to appear to think. How he was affected by emotions of love or hate I think I have sufficiently indicated by what I have said concerning his actions. As an enemy, he was obstinate and relentless; as a friend, inconstant; for he made away with many of his strongest partisans, but never became the friend of anyone whom he had once disliked. Those whom he appeared to consider his nearest and dearest friends he would in a short time deliver up to ruin to please his wife or anyone else, although he knew well that they died only because of devotion for him; for he was untrustworthy in all things save cruelty and avarice, from which nothing could restrain him. Whenever his wife could not persuade him to do a thing, she used to suggest that great gain was likely to result from it, and this enabled her to lead him into any course of action against his will. He did not blush to make laws and afterwards repeal them, that he might make some infamous profit thereby. Nor did he give judgment according to the laws which he himself had made, but in favour of the side which promised him the biggest and most splendid bribe. He thought it no disgrace to steal away the property of his subjects, little by little, in cases where he had no grounds for taking it away all at one swoop, either by some unexpected charge or a forged will. While he was Emperor of the Romans neither faith in God nor religion was secure, no law continued in force, no action, no contract was binding. When he intrusted any business to his officials, if they put to death numbers of those who fell into their hands and carried off great wealth as plunder, they were looked upon as faithful servants of the Emperor, and were spoken of as men who had accurately carried out his instructions; but, if they came back after having shown any mercy, he took a dislike to them and was their enemy for life, and never again would employ them, being disgusted with their old-fashioned ways. For this reason many men were anxious to prove to him that they were villains, although they really were not such. He would often make men repeated promises, and confirm his promise by an oath or by writing, and then purposely forget all about it, and think that such an action did him credit. Justinian behaved in this manner not only towards his own subjects, but also towards many of his enemies, as I have already told. As a rule he dispensed with both rest and sleep, and never took his fill of either food or drink, but merely picked up a morsel to taste with the tips of his fingers, and then left his dinner, as if eating had been a bye-work imposed upon him by nature. He would often go without food for two days and nights, especially when fasting was enjoined, on the eve of the feast of Easter, when he would often fast for two days, taking no sustenance beyond a little water and a few wild herbs, and sleeping, as it might be, for one hour only, passing the rest of the time in walking to and fro. Had he spent all this time in useful works, the State would have nourished exceedingly; but, as it was, he used his natural powers to work the ruin of the Romans, and succeeded in thoroughly disorganizing the constitution. His constant wakefulness, his privations, and his labour were undergone for no other purpose than to make the sufferings of his subjects every day more grievous; for, as I have said before, he was especially quick in devising crimes, and swift to carry them out, so that even his good qualities seemed to have been so largely bestowed upon him merely for the affliction of his people. CHAPTER XIV Everything was done at the wrong time, and nothing that was established was allowed to continue. To prevent my narrative being interminable, I will merely mention a few instances, and pass over the remainder in silence. In the first place, Justinian neither possessed in himself the appearance of Imperial dignity, nor demanded that it should be respected by others, but imitated the barbarians in language, appearance, and ideas. When he had to issue an Imperial decree, he did not intrust it to the Quaestor in the usual way, but for the most part delivered it himself by word of mouth, although he spoke his own language like a foreigner; or else he left it in the hands of one of those by whom he was surrounded, so that those who had been injured by such resolutions did not know to whom to apply. Those who were called A Secretis,[12] and had from very ancient times fulfilled the duty of writing the secret dispatches of the Emperor, were no longer allowed to retain their privileges; for he himself wrote them nearly all, even the sentences of the municipal magistrates, no one throughout the Roman world being permitted to administer justice with a free hand. He took everything upon himself with unreasoning arrogance, and so managed cases that were to be decided, that, after he had heard one of the litigants, he immediately pronounced his verdict and obliged them to submit to it, acting in accordance with no law or principle of justice, but being evidently overpowered by shameful greed. For the Emperor was not ashamed to take bribes, since his avarice had deprived him of all feelings of shame. It frequently happened that the decrees of the Senate and the edicts of the Emperor were opposed to each other; for the Senate was as it were but an empty shadow, without the power of giving its vote or of keeping up its dignity; it was assembled merely for form's sake and in order to keep up an ancient custom, for none of its members were allowed to utter a single word. But the Emperor and his consort took upon themselves the consideration of questions that were to be discussed, and whatever resolutions they came to between themselves prevailed. If he whose cause had been victorious had any doubt as to the legality of his success, all he had to do was to make a present of gold to the Emperor, who immediately promulgated a law contrary to all those formerly in force. If, again, anyone else desired the revival of the law that had been repealed, the autocrat did not disdain to revoke the existing order of things and to reestablish it. There was nothing stable in his authority, but the balance of justice inclined to one side or the other, according to the weight of gold in either scale. In the market-place there were buildings under the management of palace officials, where traffic was carried on, not only in judicial, but also in legislative decisions. The officers called "Referendars" (or mediators) found it difficult to present the requests of petitioners to the Emperor, and still more difficult to bring before the council in the usual manner the answer proper to be made to each of them; but, gathering together from all quarters worthless and false testimony, they deceived Justinian, who was naturally a fit subject for deception, by fallacious reports and misleading statements. Then, immediately going out to the contending parties, without acquainting them with the conversation that had taken place, they extorted from them as much money as they required, without anyone venturing to oppose them. Even the soldiers of the Praetorian guard, whose duty it was to attend the judges in the court of the palace, forced from them whatsoever judgments they pleased. All, so to speak, abandoned their own sphere of duty, and followed the paths that pleased them, however difficult or untrodden they had previously been. Everything was out of gear; offices were degraded, not even their names being preserved. In a word, the Empire resembled a queen over boys at play. But I must pass over the rest, as I hinted at the commencement of this work. I will now say something about the man who first taught the Emperor to traffic in the administration of justice. His name was Leo; he was a native of Cilicia, and passionately eager to enrich himself. He was the most utterly shameless of flatterers, and most apt in ingratiating himself with the ignorant, and with the Emperor, whose folly he made use of in order to ruin his subjects. It was this Leo who first persuaded Justinian to barter justice for money. When this man had once discovered these means of plunder, he never stopped. The evil spread and reached such a height that, if anyone desired to come off victorious in an unjust cause against an honest man, he immediately repaired to Leo, and, promising to give half of his claim to be divided between the latter and the Emperor, left the palace, having already gained his cause, contrary to all principles of right and justice. In this manner Leo acquired a vast fortune, and a great quantity of land, and became the chief cause of the ruin of the State. There was no longer any security in contracts, in law, in oaths, in written documents, in any penalty agreed upon, or in any other security, unless money had been previously given to Leo and the Emperor. Nor was even this method certain, for Justinian would accept bribes from both parties; and, after having drained the pockets of both of those who had put confidence in him, he was not ashamed to cheat one or other of them (no matter which), for, in his eyes, there was nothing disgraceful in playing a double part, provided only that it turned out profitable for him. Such a man was Justinian. CHAPTER XV As for Theodora, her disposition was governed by the most hardened and inveterate cruelty. She never did anything either under persuasion or compulsion, but employed all her self-willed efforts to carry out her resolutions, and no one ventured to intercede in favour of those who fell in her way. Neither length of time, nor fulness of punishment, nor carefully drawn-up prayers, nor the fear of death, nor the vengeance of Heaven, by awe of which the whole human race is impressed, could persuade her to abate her wrath. In a word, no one ever saw Theodora reconciled to one who had offended her, either during his lifetime or after his death; for the children of the deceased father inherited the hatred of the Empress, as if it were part of his patrimony; and, when he died, left it in turn to his sons. Her mind was ever most readily stirred to the destruction of men, and was incapable of being checked. She bestowed upon her person greater care than necessity demanded, but less than her desire prompted her to. She entered the bath very early in the morning; and, having spent a long time over her ablutions, went to breakfast, and afterwards again retired to rest. At dinner and supper she partook of every kind of food and drink. She slept a great deal: during the day, till nightfall, and, during the night, till sunrise. And, although she thus abandoned herself to every intemperance, she considered that the little time she had left was sufficient for the conduct of the affairs of the Roman Empire. If the Emperor intrusted anyone with a commission without having previously consulted Theodora, the unfortunate man soon found himself deprived of his office, in the deepest disgrace, and perished by a most dishonourable death. Justinian was speedy in the conduct of business of all kinds, not only owing to his continual sleeplessness (as has been mentioned before), but also by reason of his easiness of temper, and, above all, his affability. For he allowed people to approach him, although they were altogether obscure and unknown; and the interview was not limited to mere admission to the presence of the Emperor, but he permitted them to converse and associate with him on confidential terms. With the Empress the case was different; even the highest officials were not admitted until they had waited a long time, and after a great deal of trouble. They all waited patiently every day, like so many slaves, in a body, in a narrow and stifling room; for the risk they ran if they absented themselves was most serious. There they remained standing all the time on tip-toe, each trying to keep his face above his fellow's, that the eunuchs, as they came out, might see them. Some were invited to her presence, but rarely, and after several days of attendance; when at last they were admitted, they merely did obeisance to her, kissed both her feet, and then hastily retired in great awe; for they were not allowed to address her or to prefer any request except at her bidding; so slavishly had the spirit of Roman society degenerated under the instruction of Theodora, and to such a state of decay had the affairs of the Empire sunk, partly in consequence of the too great apparent easiness of the Emperor, partly owing to the harsh and peevish nature of Theodora; for the easiness of the one was uncertain, while the peevishness of the other hindered the transaction of public business. There was this difference in their disposition and manner of life; but, in their love of money, thirst of blood, and aversion to truth, they were in perfect accord. They were, both of them, exceedingly clever inventors of falsehoods; if any one of those who had incurred the displeasure of Theodora was accused of any offence, however trivial and unimportant, she immediately trumped up against him charges with which he was in no way concerned, and greatly aggravated the matter. A number of accusations were heard, and a court was immediately appointed to put down and plunder the subjects; judges were called together by her, who would compete amongst themselves to see which of them might best be able to accommodate his decision to the cruelty of Theodora. The property of the accused was immediately confiscated, after he had first been cruelly flogged by her orders (although he might be descended from an illustrious family), nor had she any scruples about banishing, or even putting him to death. On the other hand, if any of her favourites were found guilty of murder or any other great crime, she pulled to pieces and scoffed at the efforts of the accusers, and forced them, against their will, to abandon proceedings. Whenever it pleased her, she turned affairs of the greatest importance into ridicule, as if they were taking place upon the stage of the theatre. A certain patrician, of advanced age, and who had for a long time held office (whose name is known to me, although I will not disclose it, in order to avoid bringing infinite disgrace upon him), being unable to recover a large sum of money which was owing to him from one of Theodora's attendants, applied to her, intending to press his claim against the debtor, and to beg her to assist him in obtaining his rights. Having heard of this beforehand, Theodora ordered her eunuchs to surround the patrician in a body on his arrival, and to listen to what was said by her, so that they might reply in a set form of words previously suggested by her. When the patrician entered her chamber, he prostrated himself at her feet in the usual manner, and, with tears in his eyes, thus addressed her: "O sovereign lady! it is hard for a patrician to be in want of money; for that which in the case of others excites pity and compassion, becomes, in the case of a person of rank, a calamity and a disgrace. When any ordinary individual is in great straits, and informs his creditors, this immediately affords him relief from his trouble; but a patrician, when unable to pay his creditors, would, in the first place, be ashamed to own it; and, if he did so, he would never make them believe it, since the world is firmly convinced that poverty can never be associated with our class; even if he _should_ persuade them to believe it, it would be the greatest blow to his dignity and reputation that could happen. Well, my lady, I owe money to some, while others owe money to me. Out of respect for my rank, I cannot cheat my creditors, who are pressing me sorely, whereas my debtors, not being patricians, have recourse to cruel subterfuges. Wherefore, I beg and entreat and implore your majesty to assist me to gain my rights, and to deliver me from my present misfortunes!" Such were his words. Theodora then commenced to sing, "O patrician," and the eunuchs took up her words and joined in chorus, "you have a large tumour." When he again entreated her, and added a few words to the same effect as before, her only answer was the same refrain, which was taken up by the chorus of eunuchs. At length the unhappy man, tired of the whole affair, did reverence to the Empress in the usual manner, and returned home. During the greater part of the year, Theodora resided in the suburbs on the coast, chiefly in the Heraeum, where her numerous retinue and attendants suffered great inconvenience, for they were short of the necessaries of life, and were exposed to the perils of the sea, of sudden storms, or the attacks of sea-monsters. However, they regarded the greatest misfortunes as of no importance, if only they had the means of enjoying the pleasures of the court. CHAPTER XVI I will now relate how Theodora treated those who had offended her, merely giving a few details, that I may not seem to have undertaken a task without end. When Amalasunta, as I have narrated in the earlier books, desiring to abandon her connection with the affairs of the Goths, resolved to change her manner of life, and to retire to Byzantium, Theodora, considering that she was of illustrious descent and a princess, that she was of singular beauty, and exceedingly active in forming plans to carry out her wishes, was seized with suspicion of her distinguished qualities and eminent courage, and at the same time with apprehensions on account of her husband's fickleness. This made her exceedingly jealous; and she determined to compass the death of her rival by intrigue. She immediately persuaded the Emperor to send a man named Peter, by himself, to Italy, as ambassador to her. On his setting out, the Emperor gave him the instructions which I have mentioned in the proper place, where it was impossible for me to inform my readers of the truth, for fear of the Empress. The only order she gave the ambassador was to compass the death of Amalasunta with all possible despatch, having bribed him with the promise of great rewards if he successfully carried out his instructions. This man, expecting either preferment or large sums of money (for under such circumstances men are not slow to commit an unjust murder), when he reached Italy, by some arguments or other persuaded Theodatus to make away with Amalasunta. After this, Peter was advanced to the dignity of "Master of Offices," and attained to the highest influence, in spite of the detestation with which he was universally regarded. Such was the end of the unhappy Amalasunta. Justinian had a secretary named Priscus, a Paphlagonian by birth, a man distinguished in every kind of villainy, a likely person to please the humour of his master, to whom he was exceedingly devoted, and from whom he expected to receive similar consideration; and by these means, in a short time, he unjustly amassed great wealth. Theodora, unable to endure his insolence and opposition, accused him to the Emperor. At first she was unsuccessful, but, shortly afterwards, she put him on board a ship, sent him away to a place she had previously determined upon, and having ordered him to be shaved, forced him to become a priest. In the meantime, Justinian, pretending that he knew nothing of what was going on, neither inquired to what part of the world Priscus had been banished, nor ever thought of him again afterwards, but remained silent, as if he had fallen into a state of lethargy. However, he seized the small fortune that he had left behind him. Theodora had become suspicious of one of her servants named Areobindus, a barbarian by birth, but a youth of great comeliness, whom she had appointed her steward. Wishing to purge the imagined offence, (although, as was said) she was violently enamoured of him, she caused him to be cruelly beaten with rods, for no apparent reason. What became of him afterwards we do not know; nor has anyone seen him up to the present day. For when Theodora desired to keep any of her actions secret, she took care to prevent their being talked about or remembered. None of those who were privy to them were permitted to disclose them even to their nearest relations, or to any who desired to obtain information on the subject, however curious they might be. No tyrant had ever yet inspired such fear, since it was impossible for any word or deed of her opponents to pass unnoticed. For she had a number of spies in her employ who informed her of everything that was said and done in public places and private houses. When she desired to punish anyone who had offended her, she adopted the following plan. If he were a patrician, she sent for him privately, and handed him over to one of her confidential attendants, with instructions to carry him to the furthest boundaries of the empire. In the dead of night, her agent, having bound the unfortunate man and muffled his face, put him on board a ship, and, having accompanied him to the place whither he had been instructed to convey him, departed, having first delivered him secretly to another who was experienced in this kind of service, with orders that he was to be kept under the strictest watch, and that no one should be informed of it, until either the Empress took pity upon the unfortunate man, or, worn out by his sufferings, he at length succumbed and died a miserable death. A youth of distinguished family, belonging to the Green faction, named Basianus, had incurred the Empress's displeasure by speaking of her in sarcastic terms. Hearing that she was incensed against him, he fled for refuge to the church of St. Michael the Archangel. Theodora immediately sent the Praetor of the people to seize him, bidding him charge him, however, not with insolence towards herself, but with the crime of sodomy. The magistrate, having dragged him from the church, subjected him to such intolerable torments, that the whole assembled people, deeply moved at seeing a person of such noble mien, and one who had been so delicately brought up, exposed to such shameful treatment, immediately commiserated his sufferings, and cried out with loud lamentations that reached the heavens, imploring pardon for the young man. But Theodora persisted in her work of punishment, and caused his death by ordering him to be castrated, although he had been neither tried nor condemned. His property was confiscated by the Emperor. Thus this woman, when infuriated, respected neither the sanctuary of the church, nor the prohibitive authority of the laws, nor the intercession of the people, nor any other obstacle whatsoever. Nothing was able to save from her vengeance anyone who had given her offence. She conceived a hatred, on the ground of his belonging to the Green faction, for a certain Diogenes, a native of Constantinople, an agreeable person, who was liked by the Emperor and everyone else. In her wrath, she accused him, in like manner, of sodomy, and, having suborned two of his servants, put them up to give evidence against and to accuse their master. But, as he was not tried secretly and in private, as was the usual custom, but in public, owing to the reputation he enjoyed, a number of distinguished persons were selected as judges, and they, scrupulous in the discharge of their duties, rejected the testimony of his servants as insufficient, especially on the ground of their not being of legal age. The Empress thereupon caused one of the intimate friends of Diogenes, named Theodorus, to be shut up in one of her ordinary prisons, and endeavoured to win him over, at one time by flattery, at another by ill-treatment. When none of these measures proved successful, she ordered a cord of ox-hide to be bound round his head, over his forehead and ears and then to be twisted and tightened. She expected that, under this treatment, his eyes would have started from their sockets, and that he would have lost his sight. But Theodorus refused to tell a lie. The judges, for want of proof, acquitted him; and his acquittal was made the occasion of public rejoicing. Such was the manner in which Theodorus was treated. CHAPTER XVII As for the manner in which she treated Belisarius, Photius, and Buzes, I have already spoken of it at the commencement of this work. Two Cilicians, belonging to the Blue faction, during a mutiny, laid violent hands upon Callinicus, governor of the second Cilicia, and slew his groom, who was standing near him, and endeavoured to defend his master, in the presence of the governor and all the people. Callinicus condemned them to death, since they had been convicted of several other murders besides this. When Theodora heard of this, in order to show her devotion to the party of the Blues, she ordered that the governor, while he still held office, should be crucified in the place where the two offenders had been executed, although he had committed no crime. The Emperor, pretending that he bitterly lamented his loss, remained at home, grumbling and threatening all kinds of vengeance upon the perpetrators of the deed. He did nothing, however; but, without scruple, appropriated the property of the dead man to his own use. Theodora likewise devoted her attention to punishing those women who prostituted their persons. She collected more than five hundred harlots, who sold themselves for three obols in the market-place, thereby securing a bare subsistence, and transported them to the other side of the Bosphorus, where she shut them up in the Monastery of Repentance, with the object of forcing them to change their manner of life. Some of them, however, threw themselves from the walls during the night, and in this manner escaped a change of life so contrary to their inclinations. There were at Byzantium two young sisters, illustrious not only by the consulships of their father and grandfather, but by a long descent of nobility, and belonging to one of the chief families of the Senate. They had married early and lost their husbands. Theodora, charging them with living an immoral life, selected two debauchees from the common people and designed to make them their husbands. The young widows, fearing that they might be forced to obey, took refuge in the church of St. Sophia, and, approaching the sacred bath, clung closely to the font. But the Empress inflicted such privations and cruel treatment upon them, that they preferred marriage in order to escape from their immediate distress. In this manner Theodora showed that she regarded no sanctuary as inviolable, no spot as sacred. Although suitors of noble birth were ready to espouse these ladies, they were married against their will to two men, poor and outcast, and far below them in rank. Their mother, who was a widow like themselves, was present at the marriage, but did not venture to cry out or express her sorrow at this atrocious act. Afterwards, Theodora, repenting of what she had done, endeavoured to console them by promoting their husbands to high offices to the public detriment. But even this was no consolation to these young women, for their husbands inflicted incurable and insupportable woes upon almost all their subjects, as I will describe later; for Theodora paid no heed to the dignity of the office, the interests of the State, or any other consideration, provided only she could accomplish her wishes. While still on the stage, she became with child by one of her friends, but did not perceive her misfortune until it was too late. She tried all the means she had formerly employed to procure abortion, but she was unable prematurely to destroy the living creature by any means whatsoever, since it had nearly assumed the form of a human being. Therefore, finding her remedies unsuccessful, she abandoned the attempt, and was obliged to bring forth the child. Its father, seeing that Theodora was at a loss what to do, and was indignant because, now that she had become a mother, she was no longer able to traffic with her person as before, and being with good reason in fear for the child's life, took it up, named it John, and carried it away with him to Arabia, whither he had resolved to retire. The father, just before his death, gave John, who was now grown up, full information concerning his mother. John, having performed the last offices for his dead father, some time afterwards repaired to Byzantium, and explained the state of affairs to those who were charged with the duty of arranging admission to an audience with the Empress. They, not suspecting that she would conceive any inhuman designs against him, announced to the mother the arrival of her son. She, fearing that the report might reach the ears of the Emperor, ordered her son to be brought to her. When she saw him approaching, she went to meet him and handed him over to one of her confidants, whom she always intrusted with commissions of this kind. In what manner the unfortunate youth disappeared I cannot say. He has never been seen to this day--not even after his mother's death. At that time the morals of women were almost without exception corrupt. They were faithless to their husbands with absolute licence, since the crime of adultery brought neither danger nor harm upon them. When convicted of the offence, they escaped punishment, thanks to the Empress, to whom they immediately applied. Then, getting the verdict quashed on the ground that the charges were not proved, they in turn accused their husbands, who, although not convicted, were condemned to refund twice the amount of the dower, and, for the most part, were flogged and led away to prison, where they were permitted to look upon their adulterous wives again, decked out in fine garments and in the act of committing adultery without the slightest shame with their lovers, many of whom, by way of recompense, received offices and rewards. This was the reason why most husbands afterwards put up with unholy outrages on the part of their wives, and gladly endured them in silence in order to escape the lash. They even afforded them every opportunity to avoid being surprised. Theodora claimed complete control of the State at her sole discretion. She appointed magistrates and ecclesiastical dignitaries. Her only care and anxiety was--and as to this she made the most careful investigation--to prevent any office being given to a good and honourable man, who might be prevented by his conscience from assisting her in her nefarious designs. She ordered all marriages as it were by a kind of divine authority; men never made a voluntary agreement before marriage. A wife was found for each without any previous notice, not because she pleased him (as is generally the case even amongst the barbarians) but because Theodora so desired it. Brides also had to put up with the same treatment, and were obliged to marry husbands whom they did not desire. She often turned the bride out of bed herself, and, without any reason, dismissed the bridegroom before the marriage had been consummated, merely saying, in great anger, that she disapproved of her. Amongst others whom she treated in this manner was Leontius the "referendary," and Saturninus, the son of Hermogenes the late Master of Offices, whom she deprived of their wives. This Saturninus had a young maiden cousin of an age to marry, free-born and modest, whom Cyrillus, her father, had betrothed to him after the death of Hermogenes. After the bridal chamber had been made ready and everything prepared, Theodora imprisoned the youthful bridegroom, who was afterwards conducted to another chamber, and forced, in spite of his violent lamentations and tears, to wed the daughter of Chrysomallo. This Chrysomallo had formerly been a dancer and a common prostitute, and at that time lived with another woman like her, and with Indaro, in the palace, where, instead of devoting themselves to phallic worship and theatrical amusements, they occupied themselves with affairs of State together with Theodora. Saturninus, having lain with his new wife and discovered that she had already lost her maidenhead, informed one of his friends that his wife was no virgin. When this reached the ears of Theodora, she ordered the servants to hoist him up, like a boy at school, upbraiding him with having behaved too saucily and having taken an unbecoming oath. She then had him severely flogged on the bare back, and advised him to restrain his talkative tongue for the future. In my former writings I have already related her treatment of John of Cappadocia, which was due to a desire to avenge personal injuries, not to punish him for offences against the State, as is proved by the fact that she did nothing of the kind in the case of those who committed far greater cruelties against their subjects. The real cause of her hatred was, that he ventured to oppose her designs and accused her to the Emperor, so that they nearly came to open hostilities. I mention this here because, as I have already stated, in this work I am bound to state the real causes of events. When, after having inflicted upon him the sufferings I have related, she had confined him in Egypt, she was not even then satisfied with his punishment, but was incessantly on the look out to find false witnesses against him. Four years afterwards, she succeeded in finding two of the Green faction who had taken part in the sedition at Cyzicus, and were accused of having been accessory to the assault upon the Bishop. These she attacked with flattery, promises, and threats. One of them, alarmed and inveigled by her promises, accused John of the foul crime of murder, but the other refused to utter falsehoods, although he was so cruelly tortured that he seemed likely to die on the spot. She was, therefore, unable to compass the death of John on this pretext, but she caused the young men's right hands to be chopped off--that of the one because he refused to bear false witness; that of the other, to prevent her intrigue becoming universally known, for she endeavoured to keep secret from others those things which were done in the open market-place. CHAPTER XVIII That Justinian was not a man, but a demon in human shape, as I have already said, may be abundantly proved by considering the enormity of the evils which he inflicted upon mankind, for the power of the acting cause is manifested in the excessive atrocity of his actions. I think that God alone could accurately reckon the number of those who were destroyed by him, and it would be easier for a man to count the grains of sand on the sea-shore than the number of his victims. Considering generally the extent of country which was depopulated by him, I assert that more than two millions of people perished. He so devastated the vast tract of Libya that a traveller, during a long journey, considered it a remarkable thing to meet a single man; and yet there were eighty thousand Vandals who bore arms, besides women, children and servants without number. In addition to these, who amongst men could enumerate the ancient inhabitants who dwelt in the cities, tilled the land, and traded on the coast, of whom I myself have seen vast numbers with my own eyes? The natives of Mauretania were even still more numerous, and they were all exterminated, together with their wives and children. This country also proved the tomb of numbers of Roman soldiers and of their auxiliaries from Byzantium. Therefore, if one were to assert that five millions perished in that country, I do not feel sure that he would not under-estimate the number. The reason of this was that Justinian, immediately after the defeat of the Vandals, did not take measures to strengthen his hold upon the country, and showed no anxiety to protect his interests by securing the goodwill of his subjects, but immediately recalled Belisarius on a charge of aspiring to royal power (which would by no means have suited him) in order that he might manage the affairs of the country at his own discretion, and ravage and plunder the whole of Libya. He sent commissioners to value the province, and imposed new and most harsh taxes upon the inhabitants. He seized the best and most fertile estates, and prohibited the Arians from exercising the rites of their religion. He was dilatory in keeping his army well supplied and in an effective condition, while in other respects he was a severe martinet, so that disturbances arose which ended in great loss. He was unable to abide by what was established, but was by nature prone to throw everything into a state of confusion and disturbance. Italy, which was three times larger than Libya, was depopulated far more than the latter throughout its whole extent, whence a computation may be made of the number of those who perished there, for I have already spoken of the origin of the events that took place in Italy. All his crimes in Africa were repeated in Italy; having despatched Logothetae to this country also, he immediately overthrew and ruined everything. Before the Italian war, the Empire of the Goths extended from the territory of the Gauls to the boundaries of Dacia, and the city of Sirmium; but, when the Roman army arrived in Italy, the greater part of Cisalpine Gaul and of the territory of the Venetians was in the occupation of the Germans. Sirmium and the adjacent country was in the hands of the Gepidae. The entire tract of country, however, was utterly depopulated; war and its attendant evils, disease and famine, had exterminated the inhabitants. Illyria and the whole of Thrace, that is to say, the countries between the Ionian Gulf and the suburbs of Byzantium, including Hellas and the Chersonese, were overrun nearly every year after the accession of Justinian by the Huns, Slavs and Antes, who inflicted intolerable sufferings upon the inhabitants. I believe that, on the occasion of each of these inroads, more than two hundred thousand Romans were either slain or carried away into slavery, so that the solitude of Scythia overspread these provinces. Such were the results of the wars in Libya and Europe. During all this time, the Saracens also made perpetual inroads upon the Eastern Romans, from Egypt to the Persian frontiers, and harassed them so persistently, that those districts gradually became depopulated. I believe it would be impossible for anyone to estimate correctly the number of men who perished there. The Persians under Chosroes thrice invaded the rest of the Roman territory, destroyed the cities, slew or carried off those whom they found in the captured towns in each district, and depopulated the country wherever they attacked it. From the time they entered Colchis, the losses were divided between themselves, the Lazes, and the Romans, as up to the present day. However, neither Persians, Saracens, Huns, Slavs, nor any other barbarians were themselves able to evacuate Roman territory without considerable loss, for, in their inroads, and still more in their sieges and engagements, they often met with numerous reverses which inflicted equal disasters upon them. Thus not only the Romans, but almost all the barbarians, felt the bloodthirstiness of Justinian. Chosroes (as I have stated in the proper place) was certainly a man of depraved character, but it was Justinian who always took the initiative in bringing about war with this prince, for he took no care to adapt his policy to circumstances, but did everything at the wrong moment. In time of peace or truce, his thoughts were ever craftily engaged in endeavouring to find pretexts for war against his neighbours. In war, he lost heart without reason, and, owing to his meanness, he never made his preparations in good time; and, instead of devoting his earnest attention to such matters, he busied himself with the investigation of heavenly phenomena and with curious researches into the nature of God. Nevertheless, he would not abandon war, being by nature tyrannical and bloodthirsty, although he was unable to overcome his enemies, since his meanness prevented him from making the necessary preparations. Thus, during the reign of this prince, the whole world was deluged with the blood of nearly all the Romans and barbarians. Such were the events that took place, during the wars abroad, throughout the whole of the Roman Empire; but the disturbances in Byzantium and every other city caused equal bloodshed; for, since no regard was had to justice or impartiality in meting out punishment for offences, each faction being eager to gain the favour of the Emperor, neither party was able to keep quiet. They alternately abandoned themselves to the madness of despair or presumptuous vanity, according as they failed or succeeded in ingratiating themselves with him. Sometimes they attacked one another _en masse_, sometimes in small bands, sometimes in single combat, or set ambuscades for each other at every opportunity. For thirty-two years without intermission they inflicted horrible cruelties upon one another. They were frequently put to death by the Praefect of the city, although punishment for offences fell most heavily upon the Green faction. The punishment of the Samaritans also, and other so-called heretics, deluged the Roman Empire with blood. Let it suffice, on the present occasion, to recall briefly what I have already narrated in greater detail. These calamities, which afflicted the whole world, took place during the reign of this demon in the form of a man, for which he himself, when Emperor, was responsible. I will now proceed to relate the evils he wrought by some hidden force and demoniacal power. During his control of the Empire, numerous disasters of various kinds occurred, which some attributed to the presence and artifices of his evil genius, while others declared that the Divinity, in detestation of his works, having turned away in disgust from the Roman Empire, had given permission to the avenging deities to inflict these misfortunes. The river Scirtus overflowed Edessa, and brought the most grievous calamities upon the inhabitants of the district, as I have already related. The Nile, having overflown its banks as usual, did not subside at the ordinary time, and caused great suffering among the people. The Cydnus was swollen, and nearly the whole of Tarsus lay for several days under water; and it did not subside until it had wrought irreparable damage to the city. Several cities were destroyed by earth-quake--Antioch, the chief city of the East, Seleucia, and Anazarbus, the most famous town in Cilicia. Who could calculate the numbers of those who were thereby destroyed? To these cities we may add Ibora, Amasea (the chief city of Pontus), Polybotus in Phrygia (called Polymede by the Pisidians), Lychnidus in Epirus, and Corinth, cities which from ancient times had been thickly populated. All these cities were overthrown at that time by an earthquake, during which nearly all their inhabitants perished. Afterwards the plague (which I have spoken of before) began to rage, and swept away nearly half the survivors. Such were the disasters that afflicted mankind, from the day when Justinian first commenced to manage the affairs of the kingdom to the time, and after he had ascended the Imperial throne. CHAPTER XIX I will now relate the manner in which he got possession of the wealth of the world, after I have first mentioned a vision which was seen in a dream by a person of distinction at the commencement of his reign. He thought he was standing on the coast at Byzantium, opposite Chalcedon, and saw Justinian standing in the midst of the channel. The latter drank up all the water of the sea, so that it seemed as if he were standing on dry land, since the water no longer filled the strait. After this, other streams of water, full of filth and rubbish, flowing in from the underground sewers on either side, covered the dry land. Justinian again swallowed these, and the bed of the channel again became dry. Such was the vision this person beheld in his dream. This Justinian, when his uncle Justin succeeded to the throne, found the treasury well filled, for Anastasius, the most provident and economical of all the Emperors, fearing (what actually happened) that his successor, if he found himself in want of money, would probably plunder his subjects, filled the treasure-houses with vast stores of gold before his death. Justinian exhausted all this wealth in a very short time, partly by senseless buildings on the coast, partly by presents to the barbarians, although one would have imagined that a successor, however profligate and extravagant, would have been unable to have spent it in a hundred years; for the superintendents of the treasures and other royal possessions asserted that Anastasius, during his reign of more than twenty-seven years, had without any difficulty accumulated 320,000 centenars, of which absolutely nothing remained, it having all been spent by this man during the lifetime of his uncle, as I have related above. It is impossible to describe or estimate the vast sums which he appropriated to himself during his lifetime by illegal means and wasted in extravagance; for he swallowed up the fortunes of his subjects like an ever-flowing river, daily absorbing them in order to disgorge them amongst the barbarians. Having thus squandered the wealth of the State, he cast his eyes upon his private subjects. Most of them he immediately deprived of their possessions with unbounded rapacity and violence, at the same time bringing against the wealthy inhabitants of Byzantium, and those of other cities who were reputed to be so, charges utterly without foundation. Some were accused of polytheism, others of heresy; some of sodomy, others of amours with holy women; some of unlawful intercourse, others of attempts at sedition; some of favouring the Green faction, others of high treason, or any other charge that could be brought against them. On his own responsibility he made himself heir not only of the dead, but also of the living, as opportunity offered. In such matters he showed himself an accomplished diplomatist. I have already mentioned above how he profited by the sedition named Nika which was directed against him, and immediately made himself heir of all the members of the Senate, and how, shortly before the sedition broke out, he obtained possession of the fortunes of private individuals. On every occasion he bestowed handsome presents upon all the barbarians alike, those of East and West, and North and South, as far as the inhabitants of the British Islands and of the whole world, nations of whom we had not even heard before, and whose names we did not know, until we became acquainted with them through their ambassadors. When these nations found out Justinian's disposition, they flocked to Byzantium from all parts of the world to present themselves to him. He, without any hesitation, overjoyed at the occurrence, and regarding it as a great piece of good luck to be able to drain the Roman treasury and fling its wealth to barbarians or the waves of the sea, dismissed them every day loaded with handsome presents. In this manner the barbarians became absolute masters of the wealth of the Romans, either by the donations which they received from the Emperor, their pillaging of the Empire, the ransom of their prisoners, or their trafficking in truces. This was the signification of the dream which I have mentioned above. CHAPTER XX Besides this, Justinian found other means of contriving to plunder his subjects, not _en masse_ and at once, but by degrees and individually. These methods I will now proceed to describe as well as I am able. First of all he appointed a new magistrate, who had the right of conferring upon all those who kept shops the privilege of selling their wares at whatever price they pleased, on payment of a yearly rent to the Emperor. The citizens were compelled to make their purchases in the market, where they paid three times as much as elsewhere; nor, although he suffered severe loss, was the purchaser allowed to claim damages from anyone, for part of the profit went to the Emperor, and part to increase the salary of these officials. Purchasers were equally cheated by the magistrates' servants, who took part in these disgraceful transactions, while the shopkeepers, who were allowed to put themselves beyond reach of the law, inflicted great hardships upon their customers--not merely by raising their prices many times over, but by being guilty of unheard-of frauds in regard to their wares. Afterwards, Justinian instituted several "monopolies," as they were called, and sold the liberty of the subject to any who were willing to undertake this disgraceful traffic, after having settled with them the price that was to be paid. This done, he allowed those with whom he had made the bargain to carry out the management of the affair in whatever way they thought fit. He made these disgraceful arrangements, without any attempt at concealment, with all the other magistrates, who plundered their subjects with less apprehension, either themselves or through their agents, since some part of the profits of the plunder always fell to the share of the Emperor. Under the pretence that the former magistrates were insufficient to carry out these arrangements (although the city prefect had previously been able to deal with all criminal charges) he created two new ones. His object in this was, that he might have at his disposal a larger number of informers, and that he might the more easily inflict punishment and torture upon the innocent. One of these was called Praetor of the People, whose nominal duty it was to deal with thieves; the second was called the Commissioner, whose function it was to punish all cases of paederasty, buggery, superstition and heresy. If the Praetor found any articles of value amongst stolen goods, he handed them over to the Emperor, declaring that no owner could be found for them, and in this manner Justinian every day got possession of something of very great value. The Commissioner, after he had condemned offenders, confiscated what he pleased out of their estates and bestowed it upon the Emperor, who thus, in defiance of the law, enriched himself out of the fortunes of others; for the servants of these magistrates did not even take the trouble at the commencement of the trial to bring forward accusers or to produce any witnesses to the offences, but, during the whole of this period, without intermission, unexamined and unconvicted, the accused were secretly punished by death and the confiscation of their property by the Emperor. Afterwards, this accursed wretch ordered both these magistrates and the city prefect to deal with all criminal affairs indifferently, bidding them enter into rivalry to see which of them could destroy the greatest number of citizens in the shortest time. It is said that, when one of them asked him which of them should have the decision if anyone was accused before all three, he replied, "Whichever of you has anticipated the others." He debased the office of Quaestor, which almost all the preceding Emperors had held in especial regard, so that it was only filled by men of wisdom and experience, who above all were learned in the law and free from all suspicion of corruptibility, for it was felt that it would unavoidably be disastrous to the State if it were to be filled by men without experience or who were the slaves of avarice. This Emperor first bestowed it upon Tribonianus, whose character and misdeeds I have sufficiently described elsewhere. After his death, Justinian seized part of his estate, although he had left a son and several relatives who survived him. He then appointed Junilus (a Libyan by birth), a man who had not so much as a hearsay knowledge of law, for he had not even studied it in the public schools. Although he had a knowledge of Latin, he had never had any tuition in Greek, and was unable to speak the language. Frequently, when he attempted to say a few words in Greek, he was laughed at by his own servants. He was so mad after filthy lucre, that he had not the least scruple in publicly selling letters of office signed by the Emperor, and was never ashamed to stretch out his hand to those who had to do with him for a stater of gold. For no less than seven years the State dured the shame and ridicule brought upon it by this officer. On the death of Junilus, Justinian elevated to this office Constantine, who was not unacquainted with law, but was very young and had never yet taken part in a trial; besides which, he was the most abandoned thief and braggart in the world. Justinian entertained the highest regard for him and showed him very great favour, condescending to make him the chief instrument of his extortion and sole arbiter in legal decisions. By this means Constantine in a short time amassed great wealth, but his insolence was outrageous, and his pride led him to treat everyone with contempt. Even those who were desirous of making him considerable presents were obliged to intrust them to those who seemed to be most in his confidence, for no one was permitted to approach or converse with him, except when he was hurrying to or returning from the Emperor. Even then he did not slacken his pace, but walked on hastily, for fear that those who approached him might waste his time without paying for it. Such was the manner in which Justinian dealt with the Quaestorship. CHAPTER XXI The Praefect of the supreme tribunals, besides the public tax, annually paid to the Emperor more than thirty centenars of gold. This sum was called the "aerial tribute," doubtless because it was no regular or usual one, but seemed to have fallen as it were by chance from Heaven, whereas it ought rather to have been called "the impost of his wickedness," for it served as a pretext to those functionaries, who were invested with high power, to plunder their subjects incessantly without fear of punishment. They pretended that they had to hand over the tribute to the Emperor, and they themselves, without any difficulty, acquired sufficient sums to secure regal affluence for themselves. Justinian allowed them to go on unchecked and unheeded, waiting until they had amassed great wealth, when it was his practice to bring against them some charge from which they could not readily clear themselves, and to confiscate the whole of their property, as he had treated John of Cappadocia. All those who held this office during his reign became wealthy to an extraordinary degree, and suddenly, with two exceptions. One of these was Phocas, of whom I have spoken in my previous writings--a man in the highest degree observant of integrity and honesty; who, during his tenure of office, was free from all suspicion of illegal gain. The other was Bassus, who was appointed later. Neither of them enjoyed their dignity for a year. At the end of a few months they were deprived of it as being incapable and unsuited to the times. But, not to go into details in every case, which would be endless, I will merely say that it was the same with all the other magistrates of Byzantium. In all the cities throughout the Empire, Justinian selected for the highest offices the most abandoned persons he could find, and sold to them for vast sums the positions which they degraded. In fact, no honest man, possessed of the least common sense, would ever have thought of risking his own fortune in order to plunder those who had committed no offence. When Justinian had received the money from those with whom he made the bargain, he gave them full authority to deal with their subjects as they pleased, so that, by the destruction of provinces and populations, they might enrich themselves in the future; for, since they had borrowed large sums from the bankers at heavy rates of interest to purchase their magistracies, and had paid the sum due to him who sold them, when they arrived in the cities, they treated their subjects with every kind of tyranny, paying heed to nothing save how they might fulfil their engagements with their creditors and lay up great wealth for themselves. They had no apprehension that their conduct would bring upon them the risk of punishment; on the contrary, they expected that the greater number of those whom they plundered put to death without cause, the greater the reputation they would attain, for the name of murderer and robber was regarded as a proof of activity. But when Justinian learned that they had amassed considerable wealth during office, he entangled them in his net, and on some pretence or other deprived them of all their riches in a moment. He had published an edict that candidates for offices should swear that they would keep themselves free from extortion, that they would neither give nor receive anything for their offices, and uttered against those who transgressed the law the most violent curses of ancient times. The law had not been in force a year when, forgetting its terms and the malediction which had been pronounced, he shamelessly put up these offices for sale, not secretly, but publicly in the market-place, and those who purchased them, in spite of their oaths to the contrary plundered and ravaged with greater audacity than before. He afterwards thought of another contrivance, which may seem incredible. He resolved no longer to put up for sale, as before, the offices which he believed to be of greatest repute in Byzantium and other cities, but sought out a number of hired persons, whom he appointed at a fixed salary, and ordered to bring all the revenues to himself. These men, having received their salary, shamelessly got together from every country and carried off everything that they could. The stipendiary commission went from one place to another, plundering the subjects of the Empire in the name of their office. Thus the Emperor exercised in every case the greatest care in the selection of these agents of his, who were truly the greatest scoundrels in the world; nor were his efforts and industry in this detestable business unsuccessful. When he advanced the first of his wicked agents to high offices, and the licence of authority revealed their corruption, we were astounded to think how the nature of man could be capable of such enormity. But when those who succeeded them far outdid them, men were at a loss to understand how their predecessors could have appeared the most wicked of mankind, since, in comparison with their successors, who had surpassed them in evil-doing, they might be considered good and honest men. But the third set and their successors so far outstripped the second in every kind of villainy, and in their cleverness in inventing new accusations, that they secured for their predecessors a certain reputation and a good name. As the misfortunes of the State increased, all learned by experience that there is no limit to the innate wickedness of man, and that, when it is supported by the knowledge of precedents, and encouraged by the power in its hands to torment its victims, no man can tell how far it will extend, but only the thoughts of the oppressed are capable of estimating it. Such was the state of affairs in regard to the magistrates. The hostile armies of the Huns had often reduced to slavery and plundered the inhabitants of the Empire. The Thracian and Illyrian generals resolved to attack them on their retreat, but turned back when they were shown letters from the Emperor forbidding them to attack the barbarians, on pretence that their help was necessary to the Romans against the Goths and other enemies of the Empire. Making use of this opportunity, these barbarians plundered the country like enemies, and carried away the inhabitants into slavery; and in this manner these pretended friends and allies of the Romans returned home with their plunder and a number of prisoners. Frequently, some of the peasants in those parts, urged on by a longing for their wives and children who had been carried away into slavery, formed themselves into bands, marched against the barbarians, slew a number of them, and succeeded in capturing their horses together with their plunder. This success, however, proved very unfortunate for them; for agents were sent from Byzantium, who had no hesitation in beating and wounding them and seizing their property, until they had restored all the horses that they had taken from the barbarians. CHAPTER XXII After the Emperor and Empress had destroyed John of Cappadocia, they were desirous of appointing someone else to his office, and agreed to search for a man even more vicious than he. They looked around to find this instrument of tyranny, and examined the dispositions of all, in order that they might the more speedily be able to ruin their subjects. They temporarily conferred the office upon Theodotus, who, though certainly not an honourable man, was not sufficiently wicked to satisfy them. They continued their search in all directions, and at last by accident found a banker named Peter, a Syrian by birth, surnamed Barsyames. He had long sat at the copper money-changer's counter, and had amassed large sums by his disgraceful malpractices. He was exceedingly cunning at thieving obols, ever deceiving his customers by the quickness of his fingers. He was very clever at filching without ado what fell into his hands, and, when detected, he swore that it was the fault of his hands, and made use of most impudent language in order to conceal his guilt. This Barsyames, having been enrolled in the praetorian guard, behaved so outrageously that he approved himself beyond all others to Theodora, and was selected by her to assist in carrying out those of her nefarious schemes which required the most inventive genius. For this reason Justinian and Theodora immediately deprived Theodotus of the dignity bestowed upon him as the successor of the Cappadocian, and appointed Peter in his stead, who in every respect acted in accordance with their wishes. He not only, without the least fear or shame, cheated the soldiers of their pay, but offered commands and offices for sale to a greater extent than before. Having thus degraded them, he sold them to persons who were not ashamed to engage in this unholy traffic, giving express permission to the purchasers to deal as they pleased with the lives and properties of those who were subject to their authority; for Barsyames claimed for himself and granted to anyone who had paid down the price of a province the right of plundering and ravaging it at pleasure. It was from the chief of the State that this traffic in lives proceeded, and agreements were entered into for the ruin of the cities. In the chief courts and in the public market-place the legalised brigand went round about, who was called "collector" from his duty of collecting the money paid for the purchase of dignities, which they exacted from the oppressed, who had no hope of redress. Of all those who were promoted to his service, although several were men of repute, Barsyames always preferred such as were of depraved character. He was not the only offender in this respect; all his predecessors and successors were equally guilty. The "Master of Offices" did the same, likewise the officials of the imperial treasury, and those who had the duty of superintending the Emperor's private and personal estate--in a word, all who held public appointments in Byzantium and other cities. In fact, from the time that this tyrant had the management of affairs, either he or his minister claimed the subsidies suitable to each office, and those who served their superiors, suffering extreme poverty, were compelled to submit to be treated as if they were the most worthless slaves. The greater part of the corn that had been imported to Byzantium was kept until it rotted; but, although it was not fit for human consumption, he forced the cities of the East to purchase it in proportion to their importance, and he demanded payment, not at the price paid even for the best corn, but at a far higher rate; and the poor people, who had been forced to purchase it at an outrageously heavy price, were compelled to throw it into the sea or the drains. That which was sound and not yet spoilt, of which there was great abundance in the capital, the Emperor determined to sell to those cities which were scantily supplied. In this manner he realised twice the amount that had formerly been obtained by the receivers of the public tribute in the provinces. The next year the supply of corn was not so abundant, and the transports did not bring a sufficient quantity to supply the needs of the capital. Peter, disconcerted at the state of affairs, conceived the idea of buying up a great quantity of corn from Bithynia, Phrygia and Thrace. The inhabitants of those provinces were forced to bring it down to the coasts themselves (a work of great labour), and to convey it at considerable risk to Byzantium, where they had to be satisfied with an absurdly low price. Their losses were so considerable, that they would have preferred to have given the corn gratuitously to the public granaries, and even to have paid twice as much. This burdensome duty was called Syn=on=e, or provisioning the capital with corn from the provinces. But, as even then the supply of corn was not sufficient for the needs of the city, many complaints were made to the Emperor. At the same time the soldiers, hardly any of whom had as yet received their pay, assembled and created a great disturbance in the city. The Emperor appeared greatly irritated against Peter, and resolved to deprive him of his office, both for the reasons stated and also because it was reported to him that he had amassed extraordinary wealth, which he kept hidden away, by robbing the public treasury; and this in fact was the case. But Theodora opposed her husband's intention, being exceedingly enamoured of Barsyames, apparently on account of his evil character and the remarkable cruelty with which he treated his subjects; for, being herself exceedingly cruel and utterly inhuman, she was anxious that the character of her agents should be in conformity with her own. It is also said that Theodora, against her will, had been forced by the enchantments of Barsyames to become his friend; for this man had devoted great attention to sorcerers and supernatural beings, admired the Manichaeans, and was not ashamed openly to profess himself their supporter. Although the Empress was not ignorant of this, she did not withdraw her favour, but resolved on this account to show even greater interest and regard for him than before, for she herself also, from her earliest years, had associated with sorcerers and magicians, since her character and pursuits inclined her towards them. She had great faith in their arts, and placed the greatest confidence in them. It is even said that she did not render Justinian susceptible to her influence so much by her flatteries as by the irresistible power of evil spirits; for Justinian was not sufficiently kindly, or just, or persistent in well-doing to be superior to such secret influence, but was manifestly dominated by a thirst for blood and riches, and fell an easy prey to those who deceived and flattered him. In undertakings which needed the greatest attention, he changed his plans without any reason and showed himself as light as the dust swept before the wind. Thus none of his kinsmen or friends had the least confidence in his stability, but, in the execution of his purpose, his opinion perpetually changed with the greatest rapidity. Being, as I have said, an easy object of attack for the sorcerers, he in like manner readily fell a victim to Theodora, who, for this reason, entertained the highest affection for Peter as one devoted to the study of these arts. The Emperor only succeeded with great difficulty in depriving him of his office, and, at the pressing entreaty of Theodora, soon afterwards appointed him chief of the treasury, and deprived John of these functions, although he had only been invested with them a few months previously. This John was a native of Palestine, a good and gentle man, who did not even know how to find out the means of increasing his private fortune, and had never done injury to a single individual. The more decided the affection of the people for him, the less he met with the approval of Justinian and his partner, who, as soon as they found amongst their agents, contrary to expectation, a good and honourable man, were quite dumbfounded, showed their indignation, and endeavoured by every possible means to get rid of him with the least delay. Thus Peter succeeded John as chief of the royal treasury, and was one of the chief causes of great misery to all the inhabitants of the Empire. He embezzled the greater part of the fund, which, in accordance with an ancient custom, was annually distributed by the Emperor to a number of families by way of assisting them. Part of this public money he sent to the Emperor, and kept part for himself, whereby he acquired ill-gotten wealth. Those who were thus deprived of this money lived in a pitiable state. He did not even coin the same amount of gold as before, but less--a thing which had never been done before. Such was the manner in which Justinian dealt with the magistracies. CHAPTER XXIII I will now relate how he everywhere ruined the possessors of estates, although, to show their misery, it would really be sufficient to refer to what has been said, just before this, concerning the governors dispatched to all the provinces and cities, for it was they who plundered those who possessed landed estates, as before related. It had long been an established custom that the Roman Emperor should, not only once, but on several occasions, remit to his subjects all the arrears that were owing to the treasury, so that those who were in difficulties and had no means of settling these arrears might not be continually pressed, and that the tax collectors might not have an excuse for vexatiously attempting to exact money from those liable to tribute, where in many cases it was not due. Justinian, however, for thirty-two years made no concession of the kind to his subjects, the result of which was that the poor people were forced to quit the country without any hope of return. The more honest were perpetually harassed by these false accusers, who threatened to charge them with having paid less than the amount at which they were rated. These unhappy individuals were less afraid of the imposition of new taxes than of the insupportable weight of the unjust exactions which for many years they had been compelled to pay, whereupon many of them abandoned their property to their accusers or to the rise. The Medes and Saracens had ravaged the greater part of Asia, and the Huns and Slavs had plundered the whole of Europe. Cities had been razed to the ground or subjected to severe exactions; the inhabitants had been carried away into slavery with all they possessed, and every district had been deserted by its inhabitants in consequence of the daily inroads. Justinian, however, remitted no tax or impost to any one of them, except in the case of cities that had been taken by the enemy, and then only for a year, although, had he granted them exemption for seven years, as the Emperor Anastasius had done, I do not think that even then he would have done enough: for Cabades retired after having inflicted but little damage upon the buildings, but Chosroes, by ravaging the country with fire and sword and razing all its dwellings to the ground, brought greater calamities upon the inhabitants. Justinian only granted this absurd remission of tribute to these people and to others who had several times submitted to an invasion of the Medes and the continuous depredations of the Huns and Saracen barbarians in the East, while the Romans, settled in the different parts of Europe, who had equally suffered by the attacks of the barbarians, found Justinian more cruel than any of their foreign foes; for, immediately after the enemy withdrew, the proprietors of estates found themselves overwhelmed with requisitions for provisions,[13] impositions,[14] and edicts[15] of various kinds, the meaning of which I will now explain. Those who possessed landed property were obliged to furnish provisions for the soldiers in proportion to the amount imposed upon each, and these dues were fixed, not in consideration of the necessities of the moment, but according to an authorised imperial assessment; and, if at any time they had not a sufficient supply upon their lands for the needs of the horses and soldiers, these unhappy persons were forced to purchase them even at a price far above their proper value, and to convey them in many cases from a considerable distance to the place where the troops were encamped, and to distribute them to the adjutants in what quantity and at what rate the latter pleased, not at a fair and reasonable price. This import was called "the import of victualling," which, as it were, cut the sinews of all the landed proprietors; for they had to pay an annual tribute ten times greater than before, and were obliged not only to furnish supplies the soldiers, but on several occasions to convey corn to Byzantium. Barsyames was not the only man who had the audacity to introduce this cursed exaction, John of Cappadocia had set the example, and the successors of Barsyames in his office followed it. Such was the nature of the Syn[=o]n[=e], as it was called. The "Epibol[=e]" was a kind of unforeseen ruin, which suddenly attacked the landed proprietors and utterly deprived them of the hope of subsistence; for, in the case of estates that were deserted and unproductive, the owners or tenants of which had either died or abandoned their country and hidden themselves after the misfortunes they had undergone, Justinian did not hesitate to impose a tax. Such were these "impositions," which were of frequent occurrence during that time. A few words will suffice for the impost called "Diagraph[=e]." At this time especially, the cities were afflicted with heavy losses, the causes and extent of which I will say nothing about, for it would be an endless tale. These losses had to be repaired by the landed proprietors in proportion to the rate at which they were assessed. Their misery, however, did not stop there, but, although pestilence had attacked the whole world, and, especially, the Roman Empire; although most of the farmers had fallen victims, and their properties had become deserted, Justinian did not show the least clemency towards the owners. He continued to exact the yearly tribute from them, not only their own proportion, but that of their neighbours who had died of the plague.[16] Further, they were obliged to treat the soldiers with the greatest civility, and to allow them to take up their quarters in their finest and richest apartments, while they themselves all the time had to content themselves with the poorest and meanest rooms. Such were the calamities that without intermission befell mankind during the reign of Justinian and Theodora, for there was no cessation of war or any other most terrible calamities. Since I have mentioned the word "quarters," I must not forget to say that at one time there were 70,000 barbarians at Constantinople, whom house owners were obliged to quarter, being thus shut out from all enjoyment of their own, and in many other ways inconvenienced. CHAPTER XXIV I must not, however, omit to mention the manner in which Justinian treated the soldiers. He appointed commissioners, called Logothetae,[17] with directions to squeeze as much money as they could out of them, a twelfth part of the sum thus obtained being assured to them. The following was their mode of operation every year. It was an established custom that the soldiers should not all have the same pay. Those who were young, and had just joined, received less than those who had undergone hardships in the field and were already half-way up the list; while the veterans, whose term of service was all but over, received a more considerable sum, that they might have sufficient to live upon as private individuals, and, after their death, might be able to leave a small inheritance by way of consolation to their families. Thus, in course of time, the soldiers gradually rose in rank, according as their comrades died or retired from the service, and their pay from the public funds was regulated in accordance with their seniority. But these commissioners would not allow the names of those who had died or fallen in battle to be struck out, or the vacancies to be filled, until a long interval had elapsed. The result was, that the army was short of men, and the survivors, after the death of the veterans, were kept in a position far inferior to their merits, and received less pay than they ought to have done, while in the meantime the commissioners handed over to Justinian the money they thus purloined from the soldiers. In addition, they harassed the soldiers with several other kinds of injustices, by way of recompense for the dangers they had undergone in the field; they were taunted with the name of Greeks, as if Greece could never produce a brave soldier; others were cashiered, as not having been ordered by the Emperor to serve, although they showed their commissions, the genuineness of which the Logothetae did not hesitate to call in question; others, again, were disbanded for having absented themselves a short time from their quarters. Afterwards, some of the Palace Guards were sent into every part of the Empire to take an exact inventory of the soldiers who were or were not fit for service. Some were deprived of their belts, as being useless and too old, and for the future were obliged to solicit alms from the charitable in the open market-place--a sad and melancholy spectacle to all beholders. The rest were reduced to such a state of terror that, in order to avoid similar treatment, they offered large sums of money to buy themselves out, so that the soldiers, being thus rendered destitute and in many ways enfeebled, conceived an utter aversion to the service. This endangered the authority of the Romans, especially in Italy. Alexander, who was sent thither as commissioner, unhesitatingly reproached the soldiers for this. He also exacted large sums of money from the Italians, under the pretence of punishing them for their negotiations with Theoderic and the Goths. The soldiers were not the only persons who were reduced to poverty and privation by the commissioners; but those who had accompanied the generals in different capacities and had formerly enjoyed a high reputation, found themselves in great distress, as they had no means of procuring the ordinary necessaries. Since I am speaking of the soldiers, I will give a few additional details. Preceding Emperors had, for a very long time past, carefully posted upon all the frontiers of the Empire a large military force to protect its boundaries, and particularly, in the Eastern provinces, in order to repel the inroads of the Persians and Saracens, they had established garrisons called "frontier troops." Justinian at first treated these troops with such shameful neglect that their pay was four, or even five years in arrear; and, when peace was concluded between Rome and Persia, these unhappy individuals, who expected to enjoy the advantages of peace, were obliged to make a present to the treasury of the money due to them; and the Emperor finally disbanded them most unjustly. Thus the frontiers of the Roman Empire remained ungarrisoned, and the troops had nothing to subsist upon except the benevolence of the charitable. There was a certain body of soldiers, about 3,500 in number, called "Scholares," who had been originally appointed as an imperial palace-guard, and received a larger pay from the imperial treasury than the rest of the army. They were first chosen according to merit from the Armenians; but, from the reign of Zeno, anyone, however cowardly and unwarlike, was allowed to enter this body. In course of time, even slaves, on payment of a sum of money, were admitted to their ranks. When Justin succeeded to the throne, Justinian enrolled a large number on payment of considerable sums of money. When the list was filled up, he added about 2,000 more who were called "Supernumeraries," but disbanded them, when he himself came to the throne, without any reimbursement. In regard to these "Scholares," he invented the following plan: Whenever it was probable that an expedition would be despatched to Italy, Libya, or Persia, he ordered them to make ready to take part in the campaign, although he knew that they were utterly unfit for war; and they, being afraid of this, surrendered their salaries to the Emperor. This was a frequent occurrence. When Peter was "Master of Offices," he daily harassed them with monstrous thefts. This man, although he was of a mild and by no means overbearing disposition, was the greatest thief in the world and an absolute slave to sordid avarice. He it was who (as I have related) contrived the murder of Amalasunta, the daughter of Theodoric. There are in the imperial household other officers of much higher rank, who, having purchased their positions for a larger sum, receive better pay in proportion. These are called "Domestics" and "Protectors." They have always been exempt from military service, and are only reckoned members of the palace on account of their dignity and rank. Some of them are constantly in Byzantium, while others have long been established in Galatia or other provinces. Justinian frightened these in the same manner into abandoning their salaries to him. In conclusion, it was the custom that, every five years, the Emperor should present each of the soldiers with a fixed sum in gold. Accordingly, every five years, commissioners were despatched to all parts of the Empire, to bestow five staters of gold upon every soldier as a gift from the Emperor. This had long been an established and inviolable practice. But, from the day that Justinian assumed the management of affairs, he did nothing of the kind, and showed no intention of doing so during the thirty-two years of his reign, so that the custom was almost completely forgotten. CHAPTER XXV I will now proceed to mention another mode in which he plundered his subjects. Those who, at Byzantium, serve the Emperor or magistrates, either as secretaries, or in a military or any other capacity, are placed last upon the list of officials. As time goes on, they are gradually promoted to the place of those who have died or retired, until they reach the highest rank and supreme dignity. Those who had attained to this honour, in accordance with an ancient institution, had the right to the enjoyment of a fund of not less than 100 centenars of gold yearly, so that they might have a comfortable means of subsistence for their old age, and might be able to assist others as much as possible; and this was of great influence in bringing about a successful administration of the affairs of state. But Justinian deprived them of all their privileges, and did great harm, not only to them, but to many others besides, for the poverty which attacked them extended to all those who formerly shared their prosperity. If anyone were to calculate the sums of which they were thus deprived during these thirty-two years, he would find that the amount was very considerable. Such was the shameful manner in which the tyrant treated his soldiers. I will now relate how he behaved towards merchants, mariners, artisans, shopkeepers and others. There are two narrow straits on either side of Byzantium, the one in the Hellespont, between Sestos and Abydos, the other at the mouth of the Euxine Sea, close to the chapel of the Holy Mother. In the strait upon the Hellespont, there was no public custom-house, but an officer was sent by the Emperor to Abydos, to see that no ship loaded with arms should pass on the way to Byzantium without the Emperor's leave, and also that no person should put out to sea from Byzantium without letters of licence signed by the proper official, no ship being allowed to leave the city without the permission of the secretaries of the Master of Offices. The amount which the praetor exacted from the shipmasters under the name of toll was so insignificant that it was disregarded. A praetor was also sent to the other strait, who received his salary regularly from the Emperor, and whose duties were the same--to take care that no one transported to the barbarians on the Euxine any wares, the export of which to hostile countries was forbidden; but he was not allowed to exact any duties from these navigators. But, from the day that Justinian succeeded to the government of affairs, he established a custom-house on both straits, and sent thither two officials to collect the dues at a fixed salary, who were ordered to get in as much money as they could. These officials, who desired nothing better than to show their devotion to him, extorted duty upon all kinds of merchandise. In regard to the port of Byzantium, he made the following arrangement:--He put it in charge of one of his confidants, a Syrian by birth, named Addeus, whom he ordered to exact duty from all vessels which put in there. This Addeus would not allow those ships which had been any length of time in the harbour to leave it, until the masters had paid a sum of money to free them, or else he compelled them to take on board a freight for Libya or Italy. Some, resolved not to take in a return cargo or to remain at sea any longer, burned their ships and thus escaped all anxiety, to their great rejoicing. But all those who were obliged to continue their profession in order to live, for the future demanded three times the usual amount from merchants for the hire of the ships, and thus the merchants had no means of covering their losses except by requiring a higher price from purchasers; and thus, by every possible contrivance, the Romans were reduced to the danger of starvation. Such was the general state of affairs. I must not, however, omit to state the manner in which the rulers dealt with the small coinage. The money-changers had formerly been accustomed to give 210 obols (called Pholes) for a single gold stater. Justinian and Theodora, for their own private gain, ordered that only 180 obols should be given for the stater, and by this means deprived the public of a sixth part of each piece of gold. Having established "monopolies" upon most wares, they incessantly harassed would-be purchasers. The only thing left free from duty was clothes, but, in regard to these also, the imperial pair contrived to extort money. Silken garments had for a long time been made in Berytus and Tyre, cities of Phoenicia. The merchants and workmen connected with the trade had been settled there from very early times, and from thence the business had spread throughout the world. During the reign of Justinian, those who lived in Byzantium and other cities raised the price of their silks, on the plea that at the present time they were dearer in Persia, and that the import tithes were higher. The Emperor pretended to be exceedingly indignant at this, and subsequently published an edict forbidding a pound of silk to be sold for more than eight gold pieces; anyone who disobeyed the edict was to be punished by the confiscation of his property. This measure appeared altogether impracticable and absurd. For it was not possible for the merchants, who had bought their wares at a much higher price, to sell it to customers at a lower rate. They accordingly resolved to give up this business, and secretly and without delay disposed of their remaining wares to certain well-known persons, who took delight in wasting their money upon such adornments, and to whom it had become in a manner an absolute necessity. Theodora heard of this from certain persons who whispered it confidentially, and, without taking the trouble to verify the report, she immediately deprived these persons of their wares, and, in addition, inflicted upon them a fine of a centenar of gold. At the present time, the imperial treasurer is charged with the superintendence of this trade. When Peter Barsyames held the office, they soon allowed him all manner of licence in carrying out his nefarious practices. He demanded that all the rest should carefully observe the law, and compelled those who were engaged in the silk factories to work for himself alone. Without taking any trouble to conceal it, he sold an ounce of any ordinary coloured silk in the public market-place for six pieces of gold, but if it was of the royal dye, called Holovere, he asked more than four-and-twenty for it. In this manner he procured vast sums of money for the Emperor, and even larger sums, which he kept privately for himself; and this practice, begun by him, continued. The grand treasurer is at this moment avowedly the only silk merchant and sole controller of the market. All those who formerly carried on this business, either in Byzantium or any other city, workers on sea or land, felt the loss severely. Nearly the whole population of the cities which existed by such manufactories were reduced to begging. Artisans and mechanics were forced to struggle against hunger, and many of them, quitting their country, fled to Persia. None but the chief treasurer was allowed to have anything to do with that branch of industry, and, while he handed over part of his gains to the Emperor, he kept the greater part for himself, and thus grew wealthy at the expense of the unfortunate public. CHAPTER XXVI I must now relate how he robbed Byzantium and other cities of their ornaments. In the first place he resolved to humiliate the lawyers. He deprived them of all the fees, which, after they had finished their case, were considerable, and enriched them and increased their distinction. He ordered that litigants should come to an agreement upon oath, which brought the lawyers into contempt and insignificance. After he had seized the estates of the Senators and other families reputed wealthy, in Byzantium and throughout the Empire, the profession had little to do, for the citizens no longer possessed property worth disputing about. Thus, of the numerous and famous orators who once composed this order there remained only a few, who were everywhere despised and lived in the greatest poverty, finding that their profession brought them nothing but insult. He also caused physicians and professors of the liberal arts to be deprived of the necessaries of life. He cut off from them all the supplies which former emperors had attached to these professions, and which were paid out of the State funds. Further, he had no scruple about transferring to the public funds all the revenues which the inhabitants of the cities had devoted either to public purposes or for providing entertainments. From that time no attention was paid to physicians or professors; no one ventured to trouble himself about the public buildings; there were no public lights in the cities, or any enjoyments for the inhabitants; the performances in the theatres and hippodromes and the combats of wild beasts, in which Theodora had been bred and brought up, were entirely discontinued. He afterwards suppressed public exhibitions in Byzantium, to save the usual State contribution, to the ruin of an almost countless multitude who found their means of support in these entertainments. Their life, both in public and private, became sad and dejected and utterly joyless, as if some misfortune had fallen upon them from Heaven. Nothing was spoken of in conversation at home, in the streets, or in the churches, except misfortune and suffering. Such was the state of the cities. I have still something important to mention. Every year two consuls were appointed--one at Rome, the other at Byzantium. Whoever was advanced to that dignity was expected to expend more than twenty centenars of gold upon the public. This sum was to a small extent furnished by the consuls themselves, while the greater part was due to the liberality of the Emperor. This money was distributed amongst those whom I have mentioned, above all to the most necessitous, and principally to those employed upon the stage, which materially increased the comfort of the citizens. But, since the accession of Justinian, the elections never took place at the proper time; sometimes one consul remained in office for several years, and at last people never even dreamed of a fresh appointment. This reduced all to the greatest distress; since the Emperor no longer granted the usual assistance to his subjects, and at the same time deprived them of what they had by every means in his power. I think I have given a sufficient account of the manner in which this destroyer swallowed up the property of the members of the Senate and deprived them all of their substance, whether publicly or privately. I also think that I have said enough concerning the fraudulent accusations which he made use of, in order to get possession of the property of other families which were reputed to be wealthy. Lastly, I have described the wrongs he inflicted upon the soldiers and servants of those in authority and the militia in the palace; upon countrymen, the possessors and proprietors of estates, and professors of the arts and sciences; upon merchants, shipmasters and sailors; mechanics, artisans, and retail dealers; those who gained their livelihood by performing upon the stage; in a word, upon all who were affected by the misery of these. I must now speak of his treatment of the poor, the lower classes, the indigent, and the sick and infirm. I will then go on to speak of his treatment of the priests. At first, as has been said, he got all the shops into his own hands, and having established monopolies of all the most necessary articles of life, exacted from his subjects more than three times their value. But if I were to enter into the details of all these monopolies, I should never finish my narrative, for they are innumerable. He imposed a perpetual and most severe tax upon bread, which the artisans, the poor, and infirm were compelled to purchase. He demanded from this commodity a revenue of three centenars of gold every year, and those poor wretches were obliged to support themselves upon bread full of dust, for the Emperor did not blush to carry his avarice to this extent. Seizing upon this as an excuse, the superintendents of the markets, eager to fill their own pockets, in a short time acquired great wealth, and, in spite of the cheapness of food, reduced the poor to a state of artificial and unexpected famine; for they were not allowed to import corn from any other parts, but were obliged to eat bread purchased in the city. One of the city aqueducts had broken, and a considerable portion of the water destined for the use of the inhabitants was lost. Justinian, however, took no notice of it, being unwilling to incur any expense for repairs, although a great crowd continually thronged round the fountains, and all the baths had been shut. Nevertheless, he expended vast sums without any reason or sense upon buildings on the seashore, and also built everywhere throughout the suburbs, as if the palaces, in which their predecessors had always been content to live, were no longer suitable for himself and Theodora; so that it was not merely parsimony, but a desire for the destruction of human life, that prevented him from repairing the aqueduct, for no one, from most ancient times, had ever shown himself more eager than Justinian to amass wealth, and at the same time to spend it in a most wasteful and extravagant manner. Thus this Emperor struck at the poorest and most miserable of his subjects through two most necessary articles of food--bread and water, by making the one difficult to procure, and the other too dear for them to buy. It was not only the poor of Byzantium, however, that he harassed in this manner, but, as I will presently mention, the inhabitants of several other cities. When Theodoric had made himself master of Italy, in order to preserve some trace of the old constitution, he permitted the praetorian guards to remain in the palace and continued their daily allowance. These soldiers were very numerous. There were the Silentiarii, the Domestici, and the Scholares, about whom there was nothing military except the name, and their salary was hardly sufficient to live upon. Theodoric also ordered that their children and descendants should have the reversion of this. To the poor, who lived near the church of Peter the Apostle, he distributed every year 3,000 bushels of corn out of the public stores. All continued to receive these donations until the arrival of Alexander Forficula[18] in Italy. He resolved to deprive them of it immediately; and, when the Emperor was informed of this, he approved of his conduct, and treated Alexander with still greater honour. During his journey, Alexander treated the Greeks in the following manner:--The peasants of the district near the pass of Thermopylae had long manned the fortress, and, each in turn, mounted guard over the wall which blocks the pass, whenever there seemed any likelihood of an invasion of the barbarians. But Alexander, on his arrival, pretended that it was to the interest of the Peloponnesians not to leave the protection of the pass to the peasants. He established a garrison of about 2,000 soldiers, who were not paid out of the public funds, but by each of the cities in Greece. On this pretext, he transferred to the public treasury all the revenues of these towns which were intended for public purposes or to cover the expenses of shows and entertainments. He pretended that it was to be employed for the support of the soldiers, and in consequence, from that time, no public buildings or other objects of utility were erected or promoted either in Athens or throughout Greece. Justinian, however, hastened to give his sanction to all the acts of Forficula. We must now speak of the poor of Alexandria. Amongst the lawyers of that city was one Hephaestus, who, having been appointed governor, suppressed popular disturbances by the terror he inspired, but at the same time reduced the citizens to the greatest distress. He immediately established a monopoly of all wares, which he forbade other merchants to sell. He reserved everything for himself alone, sold everything himself, and fixed the price by the capricious exercise of his authority. Consequently, the city was in the greatest distress from want of provisions; the poor no longer had a sufficient supply of what was formerly sold at a low rate, and especially felt the difficulty of obtaining bread; for the governor alone bought up all the corn that came from Egypt, and did not allow anyone else to purchase even so much as a bushel; and in this manner, he taxed the loaves and put upon them what price he pleased. By this means he amassed an enormous fortune, and was likewise careful to satisfy the greed of the Emperor. So great was the terror inspired by Hephaestus, that the people of Alexandria endured their ill-treatment in silence; and the Emperor, out of gratitude for the money which flowed into his exchequer from that quarter, conceived a great affection for Hephaestus. The latter, in order to secure in a still greater degree the favour of the Emperor, carried out the following plan. When Diocletian became Emperor of the Romans, he ordered a yearly distribution of corn to be made to the necessitous poor of Alexandria; and the people, settling its distribution amongst themselves, transmitted the right to their descendants. Hephaestus deprived the necessitous of 2,000,000 bushels yearly, and deposited it in the imperial granaries, declaring, in his despatch to the Emperor, that this grant of corn had previously been made in a manner that was neither just nor in conformity with the interests of the state. The Emperor approved of his conduct and became more attached to him than ever. The Alexandrians, whose hopes of existence depended upon this distribution, felt the cruelty bitterly, especially at the time of their distress. CHAPTER XXVII The evil deeds of Justinian were so numerous, that time would fail me if I were to attempt to relate them all. It will therefore be sufficient, if I select some of those which will exhibit his whole character to posterity, and which clearly show his dissimulation, his neglect of God, the priesthood, the laws, and the people which showed itself devoted to him. He was utterly without shame; he had no care for the interests or advantage of the state, and did not trouble himself about excusing his misdeeds, or, in fact, about anything else but how he might plunder and appropriate the wealth of the whole world. To begin with, he appointed Paul bishop of Alexandria, at the time when Rhodon, a Phoenician by birth, was governor of the city. He ordered him to show the greatest deference to the bishop, and to execute all his instructions; for by this means he hoped to prevail upon the chief persons of the city to support the council of Chalcedon. There was also a certain Arsenius, a native of Palestine, who had made himself most necessary to the Empress, and, in consequence of her favour and the great wealth he had amassed, had attained the rank of a senator, although he was a man of most abandoned character. He belonged to the Samaritan sect, but, in order to preserve his authority, he assumed the name of Christian. His father and brother, who lived in Scythopolis, relying upon his authority and following his advice, bitterly persecuted the Christians in that city. Whereupon the citizens rose up against them, and put them to death most cruelly, which afterwards proved the cause of much misery to the inhabitants of Palestine. On that occasion neither Justinian nor the Empress inflicted any punishment upon Arsenius, although he was the principal cause of all those troubles. They contented themselves with forbidding him to appear at court, in order to satisfy the continued complaints that were preferred against him by the Christians. This Arsenius, thinking to gratify the Emperor, set out with Paul to Alexandria to assist him generally, and, above all, to do his utmost to aid him in securing the favour of the inhabitants; for, during the time of his exclusion from the palace, he affirmed that he had made himself thoroughly acquainted with all the doctrines of Christianity. This displeased Theodora, who pretended to hold a different opinion to the Emperor in religious matters, as I have already stated. When they arrived at Alexandria, Paul delivered over the deacon Psoes to the governor to be put to death, asserting that he was the only obstacle in the way of the realisation of the Emperor's desires. The governor, urged on by despatches from the Emperor, which frequently arrived and were couched in pressing terms, ordered Psoes to be flogged, and he died under the torture. When the news of this reached the Emperor, at the earnest entreaty of Theodora, he expressed great indignation against Paul, Rhodon, and Arsenius, as if he had forgotten the orders he himself had given them. He appointed Liberius, a Roman patrician, governor of Alexandria, and sent some priests of high repute to investigate the matter. Amongst them was Pelagius, archdeacon of Rome, who was commissioned by Pope Vigilius to act as his agent. Paul, being convicted of murder, was deprived of his bishopric; Rhodon, who had fled to Byzantium, was executed by order of Justinian, and his estate confiscated, although he produced thirteen despatches, in which the Emperor expressly ordered and insisted that he should in everything act in accordance with Paul's orders, and never oppose him, that he might have liberty to act as he pleased in matters of religion. Arsenius was crucified by Liberius, in accordance with instructions from Theodora; his estate was confiscated by the Emperor, although he had no cause of complaint against him except his intimacy with Paul. Whether in this he acted justly or not, I cannot say; but I will afterwards state the reason why I have mentioned this affair. Some time afterwards Paul went to Byzantium, and, by the offer of seven centenars of gold, endeavoured to persuade the Emperor to reinstate him in his office, of which he said he had been unjustly deprived. Justinian received the money affably, treated him with respect, and promised to reinstate him as soon as possible, although another at present held the office, as if he did not know that he himself had put to death two of his best friends and supporters, and confiscated their estates. The Emperor exerted all his efforts in this direction, and there did not appear to be the least doubt that Paul would be reinstated. But Vigilius, who at the time was in Byzantium, resolved not to submit to the Emperor's orders in this matter, and declared that it was impossible for him to annul by his own decision a sentence which Pelagius had given in his name. So that, in everything, Justinian's only object was to get money by any means whatsoever. The following is a similar case. There was a Samaritan by birth, a native of Palestine, who, having been compelled by the law to change his religion, had become a Christian and taken the name of Faustinus. This Faustinus became a member of the senate and governor of Palestine; and when his time of office had expired, on his return to Byzantium he was accused by certain priests of favouring the religion and customs of the Samaritans and of having been guilty of great cruelties towards the Christians in Palestine. Justinian appeared to be very angry and expressed his indignation that, during his reign, anyone should have the audacity to insult the name of Christian. The members of the senate met to examine into the matter, and, at the instance of the Emperor, Faustinus was banished. But Justinian, having received large presents of money from him, immediately annulled the sentence. Faustinus, restored to his former authority and the confidence of the Emperor, was appointed steward of the imperial domains in Palestine and Phoenicia, and was allowed to act in every respect exactly as he pleased. These few instances are sufficient to show how Justinian protected the Christian ordinances. CHAPTER XXVIII I must now briefly relate how he unhesitatingly abolished the laws when money was in question. There was in Emesa a man named Priscus, who was an expert forger and very clever in his art. The church of Emesa, many years before, had been instituted sole heir to the property of one of the most distinguished inhabitants named Mammianus, a patrician of noble birth and of great wealth. During the reign of Justinian, Priscus made a list of all the families of the town, taking care to notice which were wealthy and able to disburse large sums. He carefully hunted up the names of their ancestors, and, having found some old documents in their handwriting, forged a number of acknowledgments, in which they confessed that they were largely indebted to Mammianus in sums of money which had been left with them by him as a deposit. The amount of these forged acknowledgments was no less than a hundred centenars of gold. He also imitated in a marvellous manner the handwriting of a public notary, a man of conspicuous honesty and virtue, who during the lifetime of Mammianus used to draw up all their documents for the citizens, sealing them with his own hand, and delivered these forged documents to those who managed the ecclesiastical affairs of Emesa, on condition that he should receive part of the money which might be obtained in this manner. But, since there was a law which limited all legal processes to a period of thirty years, except in cases of mortgage and certain others, in which the prescription extended to forty years, they resolved to go to Byzantium and, offering a large sum of money to the Emperor, to beg him to assist them in their project of ruining their fellow-citizens. The Emperor accepted the money, and immediately published a decree which ordained that affairs relating to the Church should not be restricted to the ordinary prescription, but that anything might be recovered, if claimed within a hundred years: which regulation was to be observed not only in Emesa, but throughout the whole of the Roman Empire. In order to see that the new rule was put into execution, he sent Longinus to Emesa, a man of great vigour and bodily strength, who was afterwards made praefect of Byzantium. Those who had the management of the affairs of the church of Emesa, acting upon the forged documents, sued some of the citizens for two centenars of gold, which they were condemned to pay, being unable to raise any objection, by reason of the length of time elapsed and their ignorance of the facts. All the inhabitants, and especially the principal citizens, were in great distress and highly incensed against their accusers. When ruin already threatened the majority of the citizens, Providence came to their assistance in a most unexpected manner. Longinus ordered Priscus, the contriver of this detestable invention, to bring him all the acknowledgments; and, when he showed himself unwilling to do so, he dealt him a violent blow in the face. Priscus, unable to resist the blow dealt by a man of such bodily strength, fell backwards upon the ground, trembling and affrighted. Believing that Longinus had discovered the whole affair, he confessed; and, the whole trick being thus brought to light, the suits were stopped. Justinian, not content with subverting the laws of the Roman Empire every day, exerted himself in like manner to do away with those of the Jews; for, if Easter came sooner in their calendar than in that of the Christians, he did not allow them to celebrate the Passover on their own proper day or to make their offerings to God, or to perform any of their usual solemnities. The magistrates even inflicted heavy fines upon several of them, upon information that they had eaten the paschal lamb during that time, as if it were an infraction of the laws of the state. Although I could mention countless acts of this nature committed by Justinian, I will not do so, for I must draw my narrative to a close. What I have said will be sufficient to indicate the character of the man. CHAPTER XXIX I will, however, mention two instances of his falsehood and hypocrisy. After having deprived Liberius (of whom I have spoken above) of his office, he put in his place John, an Egyptian by birth, surnamed Laxarion. When Pelagius, who was a particular friend of Liberius, heard of this, he inquired of Justinian whether what he had heard was true. The Emperor immediately denied it, and protested that he had done nothing of the kind. He then gave Pelagius a letter in which Liberius was ordered to hold fast to his government and by no means to give it up, and added that he had no present intention of removing Liberius. At that time there resided in Byzantium an uncle of John named Eudaemon, a man of consular rank and great wealth, who had the management of the imperial estates. Having been informed of what had taken place, he also inquired of the Emperor whether his nephew was assured in his government. Justinian, saying nothing about his letter to Liberius, sent John positive orders to hold fast to his government, since his views were still the same concerning it. Trusting to this, John ordered Liberius to quit the governor's palace, as having been deprived of his office. Liberius refused, placing equal reliance in the Emperor's despatch. John, having armed his followers, marched against Liberius, who defended himself with his guards. An engagement took place, in which several were slain, and amongst them John, the new governor. At the earnest entreaty of Eudaemon, Liberius was immediately summoned to Byzantium. The matter was investigated before the senate, and Liberius was acquitted, as being only guilty of justifiable homicide in self-defence. Justinian, however, did not let him escape, until he had forced him to give him a considerable sum of money privately. Such was the great respect Justinian showed for the truth, and such was the faithfulness with which he kept his promises. I will here permit myself a brief digression, which may not be irrelevant. This Eudaemon died shortly afterwards, leaving behind him a large number of relatives, but no will, either written or verbal. About the same time, the chief eunuch of the court, named Euphratas, also died intestate; he left behind him a nephew, who would naturally have succeeded to his property, which was considerable. The Emperor took possession of both fortunes, appointing himself sole heir, not even leaving so much as a three-obol piece to the legal inheritors. Such was the respect Justinian showed for the laws and the kinsmen of his intimate friends. In the same manner, without having the least claim to it, he seized the fortune of Irenaeus, who had died some time before. Another event which took place about this time I cannot omit. There lived at Ascalon a man named Anatolius, the most distinguished member of the senate. His daughter, his only child and heiress, was married to a citizen of Caesarea, named Mamilianus, a man of distinguished family. There was an ancient statute which provided that, whenever a senator died without male issue, the fourth part of his estate should go to the senate of the town, and the rest to the heirs-at-law. On this occasion Justinian gave a striking proof of his character. He had recently made a law which reversed this,--that, when a senator died without male issue, the fourth part only should go to the heirs, the three other parts being divided between the senate and the public treasury, although it had never happened before that the estate of any senator had been shared between the public treasury and the Emperor. Anatolius died while this law was in force. His daughter was preparing to divide her inheritance with the public treasury and the senate of the town in accordance with the law, when she received letters from the senate of Ascalon and from the Emperor himself, in which they resigned all claim to the money, as if they had received their due. Afterwards Mamilianus (the son-in-law of Anatolius) died, leaving one daughter, the legal heiress to his estate. The daughter soon afterwards died, during her mother's lifetime, after having been married to a person of distinction, by whom, however, she had no issue, either male or female. Justinian then immediately seized the whole estate, giving utterance to the strange opinion, that it would be a monstrous thing that the daughter of Anatolius, in her old age, should be enriched by the property of both her husband and father. However, to keep her from want, he ordered that she should receive a stater of gold a day, as long as she lived; and, in the decree whereby he deprived her of all her property, he declared that he bestowed this stater upon her for the sake of religion, seeing that he was always in the habit of acting with piety and virtue. I will now show that he cared nothing even for the Blue faction, which showed itself devoted to him, when it was a question of money. There was amongst the Cilicians a certain Malthanes, the son-in-law of that Leo who had held the office of "Referendary," whom Justinian commissioned to put down seditious movements in the country. On this pretext, Malthanes treated most of the inhabitants with great cruelty. He robbed them of their wealth, sent part to the Emperor, and claimed the rest for himself. Some endured their grievances in silence; but the inhabitants of Tarsus who belonged to the Blue faction, confident of the protection of the Empress, assembled in the market-place and abused Malthanes, who at the time was not present. When he heard of it, he immediately set out with a body of soldiers, reached Tarsus by night, sent his soldiers into the houses at daybreak, and ordered them to put the inhabitants to death. The Blues, imagining that it was an attack from a foreign foe, defended themselves as best they could. During the dark, amongst other misfortunes, Damianus, a member of the senate and president of the Blues in Tarsus, was slain by an arrow. When the news reached Byzantium, the Blues assembled in the streets with loud murmurs of indignation, and bitterly complained to the Emperor of the affair, uttering the most violent threats against Leo and Malthanes. The Emperor pretended to be as enraged as they were, and immediately ordered an inquiry to be made into the conduct of the latter. But Leo, by the present of a considerable sum of money, appeased him, so that the process was stopped, and the Emperor ceased to show favour to the Blues. Although the affair remained uninvestigated, the Emperor received Malthanes, who came to Byzantium to pay his respects, with great kindness and treated him with honour. But, as he was leaving the Emperor's presence, the Blues, who had been on the watch, attacked him in the palace, and would certainly have slain him, had not some of their own party, bribed by Leo, prevented them. Who would not consider that state to be in a most pitiable condition, in which the sovereign allows himself to be bribed to leave charges uninvestigated, and in which malcontents venture without hesitation to attack one of the magistrates within the precincts of the palace, and to lay violent hands upon him? However, no punishment was inflicted either upon Malthanes or his assailants, which is a sufficient proof of the character of Justinian. CHAPTER XXX His regulations as to the public "posts" and "spies" will show how much he cared for the interests of the state. The earlier Emperors, in order to gain the most speedy information concerning the movements of the enemy in each territory, seditions or unforeseen accidents in individual towns, and the actions of the governors and other officials in all parts of the Empire, and also in order that those who conveyed the yearly tribute might do so without danger or delay, had established a rapid service of public couriers according to the following system:--As a day's journey for an active man, they settled eight stages, sometimes fewer, but never less than five. There were forty horses in each stage and a number of grooms in proportion. The couriers who were intrusted with this duty, by making use of relays of excellent horses, frequently covered as much ground in one day by this means as they would otherwise have covered in ten, when carrying out the above commissions. In addition, the landed proprietors in each country, especially those whose estates were in the interior, reaped great benefit from these posts; for, by selling their surplus corn and fruit every year to the state for the support of the horses and grooms, they gained considerable revenue. By this means the state received, without interruption, the tribute due from each, and, in turn, reimbursed those who furnished it, and thus everything was to the advantage of the state. Such was the old system. But Justinian, having commenced by suppressing the post between Chalcedon and Dakibiza, compelled the couriers to carry all despatches from Byzantium to Helenopolis by sea. They unwillingly obeyed; for, being obliged to embark upon small skiffs, such as were generally used for crossing the strait, they ran great risk of being shipwrecked, if they met with stormy weather. For, since great speed was enjoined upon them, they were unable to wait for a favourable opportunity for putting out to sea, when the weather was calm. It is true that he maintained the primitive system on the road to Persia, but for the rest of the East, as far as Egypt, he reduced the number of posts to one, for a day's journey, and substituted a few asses for the horses, so that the report of what was taking place in each district only reached Byzantium with difficulty and long after the events had occurred, when it was too late to apply any remedy; and, on the other hand, the owners of estates found no benefit from their products, which were either spoilt or lay idle. The spies were organized in the following manner:--A number of men used to be supported at the state's expense, whose business it was to visit hostile countries, especially the court of Persia, on pretence of business or some other excuse, and to observe accurately what was going on; and by this means, on their return, they were able to report to the Emperors all the secret plans of their enemies, and the former, being warned in advance, took precautions and were never surprised. This system had long been in vogue amongst the Medes. Chosroes, by giving larger salaries to his spies, none of whom were born Romans, reaped great benefit from this precaution. Justinian, having discontinued this practice, lost considerable territory, especially the country of the Lazes, which was taken by the enemy, since the Romans had no information where the King and his army were. The state also formerly kept a large number of camels, which carried the baggage on the occasion of an expedition into an hostile country. By this means the peasants were relieved from the necessity of carrying burdens, and the soldiers were well supplied with necessaries. Justinian, however, did away with nearly all the camels, so that, when the army is marching against an enemy, everything is in an unsatisfactory condition. Such was the care he took of the most important state institutions. It will not be out of place to mention one of his ridiculous acts. There was at Caesarea a lawyer named Evangelius, a person of distinction, who, by the favour of fortune, had amassed great riches and considerable landed estates. He afterwards purchased, for three centenars of gold, a village on the coast named Porphyreon. When Justinian heard of this, he immediately took it from him, only returning him a small portion of the price he had paid for it, at the same time declaring that it was unseemly that such a village should belong to Evangelius the lawyer. But enough of this. It remains to speak of certain innovations introduced by Justinian and Theodora. Formerly, when the senate had audience of the Emperor, it paid him homage in the following manner:--Every patrician kissed him on the right breast, and the Emperor, having kissed him on the head, dismissed him; all the rest bent the right knee before the Emperor and retired. As for the Empress, it was not customary to do homage to her. But those who were admitted to the presence of this royal pair, even those of patrician rank, were obliged to prostrate themselves upon their face, with hands and feet stretched out; and, after having kissed both his feet, they rose up and withdrew. Nor did Theodora refuse this honour. She received the ambassadors of the Persians and other barbarian nations and (a thing which had never been done before) bestowed magnificent presents upon them, as if she had been absolute mistress of the Empire. Formerly, those who associated with the Emperor called him Imperator and the Empress Imperatrix, and the other officials according to their rank. But if anyone addressed either Justinian or Theodora without the addition of the title Sovereign Lord or Sovereign Lady, or without calling himself their slave, he was looked upon as ignorant and insolent in his language, and, as if he had committed a very grave offence and insulted those whom it least became him, he was dismissed. Formerly, only a few were granted admission to the palace, and that with difficulty; but, from the time of the accession of Justinian and Theodora, the magistrates and all other persons were continually in the palace. The reason was, that formerly the magistrates freely administered justice and laws independently, and executed the customary sentences at their own residences, and the subjects, seeing and hearing that no injustice would be done to them, had little reason to trouble the Emperor. But this pair, taking control of all business to themselves in order that they might ruin their subjects, forced them to humiliate themselves before them in a most servile manner. Thus the courts of justice were empty nearly every day, and hardly a person was to be seen in them, while in the palace there were crowds of men pushing and abusing one another, all endeavouring to be foremost in showing their servility. Those who were on the most intimate terms with the Imperial pair remained the whole day and a great part of the night, without food or sleep, until they were worn out, and this apparent good fortune was their only reward. Others, who were free from all these cares and anxieties, were puzzled to think what had become of the wealth and treasures of the Empire. Some declared that it had all fallen into the hands of the barbarians, while others asserted that the Emperor kept it locked up in secret hiding-places of his own. When Justinian--whether he be man or devil--shall have departed this life, those who are then living will be able to learn the truth. NOTES [1: By Mr. Hodgkin, "Italy and her Invaders," vol. iii., p. 638.] [2: The best modern authorities are agreed that he was really the author.] [3: Or, rather, three, the fourth being only a kind of supplement.] [4: As internal evidence in favour of the identity of the author of the "Secret History," and the "Wars" and "Buildings," the few following points, amongst many, may be noticed. The reference in the preface to the "History of the Wars," that the author was born at Caesarea, is more closely defined by the statement in the "Secret History" that he was from Caesarea in Palestine; in both works an account of the relations of Justinian to the Church is promised, but the promise is not fulfilled. The "Secret History" refers to the extravagant "building" mania of the Emperor. In all three works we meet with a constant recurrence of the same ideas, the same outspoken language, greatly embittered in the "Secret History," the same fanatical pragmatism, the same association of luck, destiny, and divinity, of guilt and expiation, the same superstition in the forms of demonology, belief in dreams and miracles, and lastly the same commonplaces, expressions, and isolated words.] [5: "Decline and Fall," chap. xl.] [6: The �dificia, or "Buildings," of Justinian.] [7: The article on _Procopius_ in the "Encyclopaedia Britannica" (9th edition) by Professor Bryce should also be consulted.] [8: Spearmen, lancers.] [9: Shield-bearers.] [10: Or "Count," Master of the royal stables.] [11: Pumpkin.] [12: Private secretaries.] [13: Syn[=o]n[=e].] [14: Epibol[=e].] [15: Diagraph[=e].] [16: Here the text is corrupt.] [17: Chancellors, or, Commissioners.] [18: Shears, scissors.] 
900	----	ATTENTION: The xml file included in this set has the following warning about the folio file (900-n.nfo): DO NOT DOWNLOAD !!! see #892 for HTML format, #733 for plain text. The Folio format is obsolete. You won't be able to display the file. If you are tempted to try and download it anyway, you may expect your computer to crash! These files are being retained in the Project Gutenberg collection as examples of the obsolete formats of the early days. DW 
48762	----	======================================================================= DIRECTIONS: DOUBLE CLICK ON THE "More Files" OPTION AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PG CATALOG PAGE LISTING TO FIND THE "Files" DIRECTORY. DOUBLE CLICK ON THIS TO OPEN THE DIRECTORY OF THE AUDIO FILES. ======================================================================== Preface To The Initial Project Gutenberg Edition Of The Audio Reading Of Edward Gibbon's Decline And Fall Of The Roman Empire. Or A First Venue of Excuses, Denials, and Disclaimers. Let me say at the outset that those who expect this complete audio rendering of Gibbon's historical and literary masterpiece to be an epitome of perfect, pear-shaped, dropped -"r" Oxbridge English may be disappointed. I believe there is such an "audiobook" edition available commercially, but it isn't free. Experimenting some years ago with the text-to-speech software then available, I thought it would be very funny, the private joke of a modern American barbarian, to have the "little stuffed voices" rendering, in their innocent and patient way, the imposing yet effervescent bulk of Gibbon's magnificent and immortal marble-pillared prose. To my amazement, if not to the credit of my taste, I've found this shotgun wedding of sound and sense quite harmonious, vital, and durable through many years of repeated listening. I find that the voices, unembodied and wooden at first audit, but softer, incarnate, personalized by acclimatization, pack more expression and clarity of diction into a few megabytes of software than is exhibited by most humans I hear these days, except for trained entertainment professionals and seasoned barroom raconteurs. I propose that the relentless yet measured deadpan delivery, the ironic contrast of unwitting voice and worldly wise content, is a plausible fit to the objective, slightly distant facade of Gibbon's dense and rational, waste-no-word, 18th century style; a foil to his balanced tone, restrained despite dudgeon, covering a tale that is, face it, in its majority, a mordant chronicle, incarnadined--my favorite period bon mot--by battle, gore, and treachery. Of itself Gibbon's voluminous tragedy--the framework imposed by historians of his time--allows us only the occasional adrenal or comic relief by means of an essay on the basics of Roman jurisprudence, the topography of Arabia, or the absurdities and impossibilities of early Christian theology, not to mention the priceless vituperation against the "Greeks" at the end of Chapter 53. Perhaps the jest went too far. I wound up producing the entirety of the work, consuming much more time and energy than if I, or some other carbon-based unit, had simply armed ourselves with microphone and recorder, then intrepidly hacked our way toward throat cancer, through all 120-odd hours of the reading. But that's water under the bridge. I took the (immense) trouble to teach the well-meaning but naive programs improved pronunciations of over 4.000 words, mostly proper names, British spellings, and 18th century archaisms. Having some background in Catholic Church Latin, and two years of (forced) Latin in high school, but no classical scholar, I can only vouch that I did the best I could within my hobbyist limitations. In cases of extremely obscure items such as "Goisvintha"--a Gothic queen; or "Geougen"--a collective noun, like "herd" or "squad", to describe a certain group of Tartaric barbarians, I've settled for what sounded, to my part-time poet's ear, euphonious and consistent with the flow of the line. I've heard tapes of classical scholars rendering academically correct Latin, but, to venture arrogance, neither they nor the Church ever convinced me that anyone except prelates, scholars, and perhaps an affected upper crust ever actually spoke that way. How else explain French? I'd give a lot to bounce through Latium once per century from 600 B.C through the first millennium of our era in order to hear authentic village or "street" Latin. One notices that at Chapter 39 a different voice takes over through to the end of the work. For this there are two major reasons. Firstly, the product of the original voice required some extensive, and excruciatingly time-consuming digital audio processing to remove crudities of the speech engine, such as a harsh rasp, which even yet breaks through on occasion. Secondly, the production of all six volumes occupied the occasional parts of three or four years, during which time a much improved speech engine became available. Back then I did not envision a public audience for the work, and so was not hobbled by considerations of consistency. The new voice was smoother, endowed with a much more "intelligent" engine, AND DID NOT CRASH EVERY TWENTY MINUTES! For those interested, the softwares are the two final versions of Monologue, created by First Byte Software. I do not believe it is any more available to the market. There are various types of flaws in this rendering, some correctible, some not--at least not very easily or conveniently. Certain errors persist because I recall they exist, but not where. Now, I don't have the time or inclination to reaudit all 120 hours of the reading in order to flush them out. You are welcome to try, or even to email me, at the address below, their nature and whereabouts. I will collect such reports and maybe someday repair the faults. Better yet, do it yourself (See below)! There are a very, very few errors of garbled audio that arose during the conversion to .mp3. I do not believe they inhibit understanding of the contextual passage. But once again, you tell me. Other errors arise because the programs were not smart enough to recognize and discriminate among some of the tricky ambiguities and homonymic mimeses of English. Sometimes "lives" is pronounced incorrectly relative to context, noun versus verb. Other examples in this category are "minute", "rebel(s)", "lead", "read", and "present". There are occasional renderings of "...part i" -(roman numeral one) as "...part eye". I tried to eliminate that by reformatting the source text, but obviously missed in some cases. The historian Procopius' name is occasionally rendered "Procompanyius" because of an obstinacy about expanding abbreviations I could not completely--Gibbon's favorite term--extirpate. In some few other cases there are obviously erroneous or awkward pronunciations of words, especially of French proper and place names. Frankly, I'm proud the little beasts do as well as they do in the continental tongue. Let me say that although I tried assiduously, and even systematically to eliminate errors (having written a program that scanned the source text for words "new" to the speech software), the product of Gibbon's twenty year labor is in itself an empire of English, in which I have yet to travel every byway. Each successive chapter contained literally many hundreds of new words that had not appeared even in his own previous chapters! Finally, some deep errors arise because the source text itself, Project Gutenberg's Gibbon, contains some flaws. In sum, what began in levity, then developed into a protracted, private, and informal labor of love, is now offered to the public as a first draft, a Gutenberg "xxxxx10.mp3", mostly correct, of that rare entertainment, dramatic scholarship, rendered into the charismatic medium of the spoken word. The justification of its unredeemed state is that for now, granting the superiority of perfection, if available, there is yet much value in any reasonably integral creation especially if the alternative is nothing. To anyone who reads this, listens to the material, finds blemishes, and cares, I will be happy to send you, in your thousands, the software, gratis save cost of materials and shipping, enabling you to make your own corrections, which you can then share with us all. David Ceponis Berkeley, California September 05, 2002 
16764	----	PROCOPIUS With an English Translation by H. B. Dewing In Seven Volumes I HISTORY OF THE WARS, BOOKS I AND II London William Heinemann Ltd Cambridge, Massachusetts Harvard University Press MCMLXXI First Printed 1914 CONTENTS HISTORY OF THE WARS-- PAGE INTRODUCTION vii BIBLIOGRAPHY xv BOOK I.--THE PERSIAN WAR 1 BOOK II.--THE PERSIAN WAR (_continued_) 259 INTRODUCTION Procopius is known to posterity as the historian of the eventful reign of Justinian (527-565 A.D.), and the chronicler of the great deeds of the general Belisarius. He was born late in the fifth century in the city of Caesarea in Palestine. As to his education and early years we are not informed, but we know that he studied to fit himself for the legal profession. He came as a young man to Constantinople, and seems to have made his mark immediately. For as early as the year 527 he was appointed legal adviser and private secretary[1] to Belisarius, then a very young man who had been serving on the staff of the general Justinian, and had only recently been advanced to the office of general. Shortly after this Justinian was called by his uncle Justinus to share the throne of the Roman Empire, and four months later Justinus died, leaving Justinian sole emperor of the Romans. Thus the stage was set for the scenes which are presented in the pages of Procopius. His own activity continued till well nigh the end of Justinian's life, and he seems to have outlived his hero, Belisarius. During the eventful years of Belisarius' campaigning in Africa, in Italy, and in the East, Procopius was moving about with him and was an eye-witness of the events he describes in his writings. In 527 we find him in Mesopotamia; in 533 he accompanied Belisarius to Africa; and in 536 he journeyed with him to Italy. He was therefore quite correct in the assertion which he makes rather modestly in the introduction of his history, that he was better qualified than anyone else to write the history of that period. Besides his intimacy with Belisarius it should be added that his position gave him the further advantage of a certain standing at the imperial court in Constantinople, and brought him the acquaintance of many of the leading men of his day. Thus we have the testimony of one intimately associated with the administration, and this, together with the importance of the events through which he lived, makes his record exceedingly interesting as well as historically important. One must admit that his position was not one to encourage impartiality in his presentation of facts, and that the imperial favour was not won by plain speaking; nevertheless we have before us a man who could not obliterate himself enough to play the abject flatterer always, and he gives us the reverse, too, of his brilliant picture, as we shall see presently. Procopius' three works give us a fairly complete account of the reign of Justinian up till near the year 560 A.D., and he has done us the favour of setting forth three different points of view which vary so widely that posterity has sometimes found it difficult to reconcile them. His greatest work, as well as his earliest, is the _History of the Wars_, in eight books. The material is not arranged strictly according to chronological sequence, but so that the progress of events may be traced separately in each one of three wars. Thus the first two books are given over to the Persian wars, the next two contain the account of the war waged against the Vandals in Africa, the three following describe the struggle against the Goths in Italy. These seven books were published together first, and the eighth book was added later as a supplement to bring the history up to about the date of 554, being a general account of events in different parts of the empire. It is necessary to bear in mind that the wars described separately by Procopius overlapped one another in time, and that while the Romans were striving to hold back the Persian aggressor they were also maintaining armies in Africa and in Italy. In fact the Byzantine empire was making a supreme effort to re-establish the old boundaries, and to reclaim the territories lost to the barbarian nations. The emperor Justinian was fired by the ambition to make the Roman Empire once more a world power, and he drained every resource in his eagerness to make possible the fulfilment of this dream. It was a splendid effort, but it was doomed to failure; the fallen edifice could not be permanently restored. The history is more general than the title would imply, and all the important events of the time are touched upon. So while we read much of the campaigns against the nations who were crowding back the boundaries of the old empire, we also hear of civic affairs such as the great Nika insurrection in Byzantium in 532; similarly a careful account is given of the pestilence of 540, and the care shewn in describing the nature of the disease shews plainly that the author must have had some acquaintance with the medical science of the time. After the seventh book of the _History of the Wars_ Procopius wrote the _Anecdota_, or _Secret History_. Here he freed himself from all the restraints of respect or fear, and set down without scruple everything which he had been led to suppress or gloss over in the _History_ through motives of policy. He attacks unmercifully the emperor and empress and even Belisarius and his wife Antonina, and displays to us one of the blackest pictures ever set down in writing. It is a record of wanton crime and shameless debauchery, of intrigue and scandal both in public and in private life. It is plain that the thing is overdone, and the very extravagance of the calumny makes it impossible to be believed; again and again we meet statements which, if not absolutely impossible, are at least highly improbable. Many of the events of the _History_ are presented in an entirely new light; we seem to hear one speaking out of the bitterness of his heart. It should be said, at the same time, that there are very few contradictions in statements of fact. The author has plainly singled out the empress Theodora as the principal victim of his venomous darts, and he gives an account of her early years which is both shocking and disgusting, but which, happily, we are not forced to regard as true. It goes without saying that such a work as this could not have been published during the lifetime of the author, and it appears that it was not given to the world until after the death of Justinian in 565. Serious doubts have been entertained in times past as to the authenticity of the _Anecdota_, for at first sight it seems impossible that the man who wrote in the calm tone of the _History_ and who indulged in the fulsome praise of the panegyric _On the Buildings_ could have also written the bitter libels of the _Anecdota_. It has come to be seen, however, that this feeling is not supported by any unanswerable arguments, and it is now believed to be highly probable at least, that the _Anecdota_ is the work of Procopius. Its bitterness may be extreme and its calumnies exaggerated beyond all reason, but it must be regarded as prompted by a reaction against the hollow life of the Byzantine court. The third work is entitled _On the Buildings_, and is plainly an attempt to gain favour with the emperor. We can only guess as to what the immediate occasion was for its composition. It is plain, however, that the publication of the _History_ could not have aroused the enthusiasm of Justinian; there was no attempt in it to praise the emperor, and one might even read an unfavourable judgment between the lines. And it is not at all unlikely that he was moved to envy by the praises bestowed upon his general, Belisarius. At any rate the work _On the Buildings_ is written in the empty style of the fawning flatterer. It is divided into six short books and contains an account of all the public buildings of Justinian's reign in every district of the empire. The subject was well chosen and the material ample, and Procopius lost no opportunity of lauding his sovereign to the skies. It is an excellent example of the florid panegyric style which was, unfortunately, in great favour with the literary world of his own as well as later Byzantine times. But in spite of its faults, this work is a record of the greatest importance for the study of the period, since it is a storehouse of information concerning the internal administration of the empire. The style of Procopius is in general clear and straightforward, and shews the mind of one who endeavours to speak the truth in simple language wherever he is not under constraint to avoid it. At the same time he is not ignorant of the arts of rhetoric, and especially in the speeches he is fond of introducing sounding phrases and sententious statements. He was a great admirer of the classical writers of prose, and their influence is everywhere apparent in his writing; in particular he is much indebted to the historians Herodotus and Thucydides, and he borrows from them many expressions and turns of phrase. But the Greek which he writes is not the pure Attic, and we find many evidences of the influence of the contemporary spoken language. Procopius writes at times as a Christian, and at times as one imbued with the ideas of the ancient religion of Greece. Doubtless his study of the classical writers led him into this, perhaps unconsciously. At any rate it seems not to have been with him a matter in which even consistency was demanded. It was politic to espouse the religion of the state, but still he often allows himself to speak as if he were a contemporary of Thucydides. The text followed is that of Haury, issued in the Teubner series, 1905-1913. BIBLIOGRAPHY The _editio princeps_ of Procopius was published by David Hoeschel, Augsburg, 1607; the _Secret History_ was not included, and only summaries of the six books of the work _On the Buildings_ were given. The edition is not important except as being the first. The _Secret History_ was printed for the first time separately with a Latin translation by Alemannus, Lyon, 1623. The first complete edition was that of Maltretus, Paris, 1661-63, reprinted in Venice, 1729; the edition included a Latin translation of all the works, which was taken over into the edition of Procopius in the _Corpus Scriptorum Historiae Byzantinae_ by Dindorf, Bonn, 1833-38. Two editions of recent years are to be mentioned: Domenico Comparetti, _La Guerra Gotica di Procopio di Cesarea_; testo Greco emendato sui manoscritti con traduxione Italiana, Rome, 1895-98; 3 vols. Jacobus Haury, _Procopii Caesariensis Opera Omnia_, Leipzig, 1905-13; 3 vols. (Bibl. Teub.). Among a number of works on Procopius or on special subjects connected with his writings the following may be mentioned: Felix Dahn: _Procopius von Cäsarea_, Berlin, 1865. Julius Jung: _Geographisch-Historisches bei Procopius von Caesarea_, Wiener Studien 5 (1883) 85-115. W. Gundlach: _Quaestiones Procopianae_, Progr. Hanau, 1861, also Dissert. Marburg, 1861. J. Haury: _Procopiana_, Progr. Augsburg, 1891. B. Pancenko: _Ueber die Geheimgeschichte des Prokop_, Viz. Vrem. 2 (1895). J. Haury: _Zur Beurteilung des Geschichtschreibers Procopius von Caesarea_, Munich, 1896-97. 1971. The Teubner edition in 4 volumes by J. Haury (1905-1913) has been re-edited by G. Wirth. FOOTNOTE: [1] [Greek: xymboulos], _Proc. Bell._ I. xii. 24. He is elsewhere referred to as [Greek: paredros] or [Greek: hypographeus]. PROCOPIUS OF CAESAREA HISTORY OF THE WARS: BOOK I THE PERSIAN WAR PROCOPIUS OF CAESAREA HISTORY OF THE WARS: BOOK I THE PERSIAN WAR I Procopius of Caesarea has written the history of the wars which Justinian, Emperor of the Romans, waged against the barbarians of the East and of the West, relating separately the events of each one, to the end that the long course of time may not overwhelm deeds of singular importance through lack of a record, and thus abandon them to oblivion and utterly obliterate them. The memory of these events he deemed would be a great thing and most helpful to men of the present time, and to future generations as well, in case time should ever again place men under a similar stress. For men who purpose to enter upon a war or are preparing themselves for any kind of struggle may derive some benefit from a narrative of a similar situation in history, inasmuch as this discloses the final result attained by men of an earlier day in a struggle of the same sort, and foreshadows, at least for those who are most prudent in planning, what outcome present events will probably have. Furthermore he had assurance that he was especially competent to write the history of these events, if for no other reason, because it fell to his lot, when appointed adviser to the general Belisarius, to be an eye-witness of practically all the events to be described. It was his conviction that while cleverness is appropriate to rhetoric, and inventiveness to poetry, truth alone is appropriate to history. In accordance with this principle he has not concealed the failures of even his most intimate acquaintances, but has written down with complete accuracy everything which befell those concerned, whether it happened to be done well or ill by them. It will be evident that no more important or mightier deeds are to be found in history than those which have been enacted in these wars,--provided one wishes to base his judgment on the truth. For in them more remarkable feats have been performed than in any other wars with which we are acquainted; unless, indeed, any reader of this narrative should give the place of honour to antiquity, and consider contemporary achievements unworthy to be counted remarkable. There are those, for example, who call the soldiers of the present day "bowmen," while to those of the most ancient times they wish to attribute such lofty terms as "hand-to-hand fighters," "shield-men," and other names of that sort; and they think that the valour of those times has by no means survived to the present,--an opinion which is at once careless and wholly remote from actual experience of these matters. For the thought has never occurred to them that, as regards the Homeric bowmen who had the misfortune to be ridiculed by this term[1] derived from their art, they were neither carried by horse nor protected by spear or shield[2]. In fact there was no protection at all for their bodies; they entered battle on foot, and were compelled to conceal themselves, either singling out the shield of some comrade[3], or seeking safety behind a tombstone on a mound[4], from which position they could neither save themselves in case of rout, nor fall upon a flying foe. Least of all could they participate in a decisive struggle in the open, but they always seemed to be stealing something which belonged to the men who were engaged in the struggle. And apart from this they were so indifferent in their practice of archery that they drew the bowstring only to the breast[5], so that the missile sent forth was naturally impotent and harmless to those whom it hit[6]. Such, it is evident, was the archery of the past. But the bowmen of the present time go into battle wearing corselets and fitted out with greaves which extend up to the knee. From the right side hang their arrows, from the other the sword. And there are some who have a spear also attached to them and, at the shoulders, a sort of small shield without a grip, such as to cover the region of the face and neck. They are expert horsemen, and are able without difficulty to direct their bows to either side while riding at full speed, and to shoot an opponent whether in pursuit or in flight. They draw the bowstring along by the forehead about opposite the right ear, thereby charging the arrow with such an impetus as to kill whoever stands in the way, shield and corselet alike having no power to check its force. Still there are those who take into consideration none of these things, who reverence and worship the ancient times, and give no credit to modern improvements. But no such consideration will prevent the conclusion that most great and notable deeds have been performed in these wars. And the history of them will begin at some distance back, telling of the fortunes in war of the Romans and the Medes, their reverses and their successes. II [408 A.D.] When the Roman Emperor Arcadius was at the point of death in Byzantium, having a malechild, Theodosius, who was still unweaned, he felt grave fears not only for him but for the government as well, not knowing how he should provide wisely for both. For he perceived that, if he provided a partner in government for Theodosius, he would in fact be destroying his own son by bringing forward against him a foe clothed in the regal power; while if he set him alone over the empire, many would try to mount the throne, taking advantage, as they might be expected to do, of the helplessness of the child. These men would rise against the government, and, after destroying Theodosius, would make themselves tyrants without difficulty, since the boy had no kinsman in Byzantium to be his guardian. For Arcadius had no hope that the boy's uncle, Honorius, would succour him, inasmuch as the situation in Italy was already troublesome. And he was equally disturbed by the attitude of the Medes, fearing lest these barbarians should trample down the youthful emperor and do the Romans irreparable harm. When Arcadius was confronted with this difficult situation, though he had not shewn himself sagacious in other matters, he devised a plan which was destined to preserve without trouble both his child and his throne, either as a result of conversation with certain of the learned men, such as are usually found in numbers among the advisers of a sovereign, or from some divine inspiration which came to him. For in drawing up the writings of his will, he designated the child as his successor to the throne, but appointed as guardian over him Isdigerdes, the Persian King, enjoining upon him earnestly in his will to preserve the empire for Theodosius by all his power and foresight. So Arcadius died, having thus arranged his private affairs as well as those of the empire. But Isdigerdes, the Persian King, when he saw this writing which was duly delivered to him, being even before a sovereign whose nobility of character had won for him the greatest renown, did then display a virtue at once amazing and remarkable. For, loyally observing the behests of Arcadius, he adopted and continued without interruption a policy of profound peace with the Romans, and thus preserved the empire for Theodosius. Indeed, he straightway dispatched a letter to the Roman senate, not declining the office of guardian of the Emperor Theodosius, and threatening war against any who should attempt to enter into a conspiracy against him. [441 A.D.] When Theodosius had grown to manhood and was in the prime of life, and Isdigerdes had been taken from the world by disease, Vararanes, the Persian King, invaded the Roman domains with a mighty army; however he did no damage, but returned to his home without accomplishing anything. This came about in the following way. Anatolius, General of the East, had, as it happened, been sent by the Emperor Theodosius as ambassador to the Persians, alone and unaccompanied; as he approached the Median army, solitary as he was, he leapt down from his horse, and advanced on foot toward Vararanes. And when Vararanes saw him, he enquired from those who were near who this man could be who was coming forward. And they replied that he was the general of the Romans. Thereupon the king was so dumbfounded by this excessive degree of respect that he himself wheeled his horse about and rode away, and the whole Persian host followed him. When he had reached his own territory, he received the envoy with great cordiality, and granted the treaty of peace on the terms which Anatolius desired of him; one condition, however, he added, that neither party should construct any new fortification in his own territory in the neighbourhood of the boundary line between the two countries. When this treaty had been executed, both sovereigns then continued to administer the affairs of their respective countries as seemed best to them. III At a later time the Persian King Perozes became involved in a war concerning boundaries with the nation of the Ephthalitae Huns, who are called White Huns, gathered an imposing army, and marched against them. The Ephthalitae are of the stock of the Huns in fact as well as in name; however they do not mingle with any of the Huns known to us, for they occupy a land neither adjoining nor even very near to them; but their territory lies immediately to the north of Persia; indeed their city, called Gorgo, is located over against the Persian frontier, and is consequently the centre of frequent contests concerning boundary lines between the two peoples. For they are not nomads like the other Hunnic peoples, but for a long period have been established in a goodly land. As a result of this they have never made any incursion into the Roman territory except in company with the Median army. They are the only ones among the Huns who have white bodies and countenances which are not ugly. It is also true that their manner of living is unlike that of their kinsmen, nor do they live a savage life as they do; but they are ruled by one king, and since they possess a lawful constitution, they observe right and justice in their dealings both with one another and with their neighbours, in no degree less than the Romans and the Persians. Moreover, the wealthy citizens are in the habit of attaching to themselves friends to the number of twenty or more, as the case may be, and these become permanently their banquet-companions, and have a share in all their property, enjoying some kind of a common right in this matter. Then, when the man who has gathered such a company together comes to die, it is the custom that all these men be borne alive into the tomb with him. Perozes, marching against these Ephthalitae, was accompanied by an ambassador, Eusebius by name, who, as it happened, had been sent to his court by the Emperor Zeno. Now the Ephthalitae made it appear to their enemy that they had turned to flight because they were wholly terrified by their attack, and they retired with all speed to a place which was shut in on every side by precipitous mountains, and abundantly screened by a close forest of wide-spreading trees. Now as one advanced between the mountains to a great distance, a broad way appeared in the valley, extending apparently to an indefinite distance, but at the end it had no outlet at all, but terminated in the very midst of the circle of mountains. So Perozes, with no thought at all of treachery, and forgetting that he was marching in a hostile country, continued the pursuit without the least caution. A small body of the Huns were in flight before him, while the greater part of their force, by concealing themselves in the rough country, got in the rear of the hostile army; but as yet they desired not to be seen by them, in order that they might advance well into the trap and get as far as possible in among the mountains, and thus be no longer able to turn back. When the Medes began to realize all this (for they now began to have a glimmering of their peril), though they refrained from speaking of the situation themselves through fear of Perozes, yet they earnestly entreated Eusebius to urge upon the king, who was completely ignorant of his own plight, that he should take counsel rather than make an untimely display of daring, and consider well whether there was any way of safety open to them. So he went before Perozes, but by no means revealed the calamity which was upon them; instead he began with a fable, telling how a lion once happened upon a goat bound down and bleating on a mound of no very great height, and how the lion, bent upon making a feast of the goat, rushed forward with intent to seize him, but fell into a trench exceedingly deep, in which was a circular path, narrow and endless (for it had no outlet anywhere), which indeed the owners of the goat had constructed for this very purpose, and they had placed the goat above it to be a bait for the lion. When Perozes heard this, a fear came over him lest perchance the Medes had brought harm upon themselves by their pursuit of the enemy. He therefore advanced no further, but, remaining where he was, began to consider the situation. By this time the Huns were following him without any concealment, and were guarding the entrance of the place in order that their enemy might no longer be able to withdraw to the rear. Then at last the Persians saw clearly in what straits they were, and they felt that the situation was desperate; for they had no hope that they would ever escape from the peril. Then the king of the Ephthalitae sent some of his followers to Perozes; he upbraided him at length for his senseless foolhardiness, by which he had wantonly destroyed both himself and the Persian people, but he announced that even so the Huns would grant them deliverance, if Perozes should consent to prostrate himself before him as having proved himself master, and, taking the oaths traditional among the Persians, should give pledges that they would never again take the field against the nation of the Ephthalitae. When Perozes heard this, he held a consultation with the Magi who were present and enquired of them whether he must comply with the terms dictated by the enemy. The Magi replied that, as to the oath, he should settle the matter according to his own pleasure; as for the rest, however, he should circumvent his enemy by craft. And they reminded him that it was the custom among the Persians to prostrate themselves before the rising sun each day; he should, therefore, watch the time closely and meet the leader of the Ephthalitae at dawn, and then, turning toward the rising sun, make his obeisance. In this way, they explained, he would be able in the future to escape the ignominy of the deed. Perozes accordingly gave the pledges concerning the peace, and prostrated himself before his foe exactly as the Magi had suggested, and so, with the whole Median army intact, gladly retired homeward. IV Not long after this, disregarding the oath he had sworn, he was eager to avenge himself upon the Huns for the insult done him. He therefore straightway gathered together from the whole land all the Persians and their allies, and led them against the Ephthalitae; of all his sons he left behind him only one, Cabades by name, who, as it happened, was just past the age of boyhood; all the others, about thirty in number, he took with him. The Ephthalitae, upon learning of his invasion, were aggrieved at the deception they had suffered at the hands of their enemy, and bitterly reproached their king as having abandoned them to the Medes. He, with a laugh, enquired of them what in the world of theirs he had abandoned, whether their land or their arms or any other part of their possessions. They thereupon retorted that he had abandoned nothing, except, forsooth, the one opportunity on which, as it turned out, everything else depended. Now the Ephthalitae with all zeal demanded that they should go out to meet the invaders, but the king sought to restrain them at any rate for the moment. For he insisted that as yet they had received no definite information as to the invasion, for the Persians were still within their own boundaries. So, remaining where he was, he busied himself as follows. In the plain where the Persians were to make their irruption into the land of the Ephthalitae he marked off a tract of very great extent and made a deep trench of sufficient width; but in the centre he left a small portion of ground intact, enough to serve as a way for ten horses. Over the trench he placed reeds, and upon the reeds he scattered earth, thereby concealing the true surface. He then directed the forces of the Huns that, when the time came to retire inside the trench, they should draw themselves together into a narrow column and pass rather slowly across this neck of land, taking care that they should not fall into the ditch[7]. And he hung from the top of the royal banner the salt over which Perozes had once sworn the oath which he had disregarded in taking the field against the Huns. Now as long as he heard that the enemy were in their own territory, he remained at rest; but when he learned from his scouts that they had reached the city of Gorgo which lies on the extreme Persian frontier, and that departing thence they were now advancing against his army, remaining himself with the greater part of his troops inside the trench, he sent forward a small detachment with instructions to allow themselves to be seen at a distance by the enemy in the plain, and, when once they had been seen, to flee at full speed to the rear, keeping in mind his command concerning the trench as soon as they drew near to it. They did as directed, and, as they approached the trench, they drew themselves into a narrow column, and all passed over and joined the rest of the army. But the Persians, having no means of perceiving the stratagem, gave chase at full speed across a very level plain, possessed as they were by a spirit of fury against the enemy, and fell into the trench, every man of them, not alone the first but also those who followed in the rear. For since they entered into the pursuit with great fury, as I have said, they failed to notice the catastrophe which had befallen their leaders, but fell in on top of them with their horses and lances, so that, as was natural, they both destroyed them, and were themselves no less involved in ruin. Among them were Perozes and all his sons. And just as he was about to fall into this pit, they say that he realized the danger, and seized and threw from him the pearl which hung from his right ear,--a gem of wonderful whiteness and greatly prized on account of its extraordinary size--in order, no doubt, that no one might wear it after him; for it was a thing exceedingly beautiful to look upon, such as no king before him had possessed. This story, however, seems to me untrustworthy, because a man who found himself in such peril would have thought of nothing else; but I suppose that his ear was crushed in this disaster, and the pearl disappeared somewhere or other. This pearl the Roman Emperor then made every effort to buy from the Ephthalitae, but was utterly unsuccessful. For the barbarians were not able to find it although they sought it with great labour. However, they say that the Ephthalitae found it later and sold it to Cabades. The story of this pearl, as told by the Persians, is worth recounting, for perhaps to some it may not seem altogether incredible. For they say that it was lodged in its oyster in the sea which washes the Persian coast, and that the oyster was swimming not far from the shore; both its valves were standing open and the pearl lay between them, a wonderful sight and notable, for no pearl in all history could be compared with it at all, either in size or in beauty. A shark, then, of enormous size and dreadful fierceness, fell in love with this sight and followed close upon it, leaving it neither day nor night; even when he was compelled to take thought for food, he would only look about for something eatable where he was, and when he found some bit, he would snatch it up and eat it hurriedly; then overtaking the oyster immediately, he would sate himself again with the sight he loved. At length a fisherman, they say, noticed what was passing, but in terror of the monster he recoiled from the danger; however, he reported the whole matter to the king, Perozes. Now when Perozes heard his account, they say that a great longing for the pearl came over him, and he urged on this fisherman with many flatteries and hopes of reward. Unable to resist the importunities of the monarch, he is said to have addressed Perozes as follows: "My master, precious to a man is money, more precious still is his life, but most prized of all are his children; and being naturally constrained by his love for them a man might perhaps dare anything. Now I intend to make trial of the monster, and hope to make thee master of the pearl. And if I succeed in this struggle, it is plain that henceforth I shall be ranked among those who are counted blessed. For it is not unlikely that thou, as King of Kings, wilt reward me with all good things; and for me it will be sufficient, even if it so fall out that I gain no reward, to have shewn myself a benefactor of my master. But if it must needs be that I become the prey of this monster, thy task indeed it will be, O King, to requite my children for their father's death. Thus even after my death I shall still be a wage-earner among those closest to me, and thou wilt win greater fame for thy goodness,--for in helping my children thou wilt confer a boon upon me, who shall have no power to thank thee for the benefit--because generosity is seen to be without alloy only when it is displayed towards the dead." With these words he departed. And when he came to the place where the oyster was accustomed to swim and the shark to follow, he seated himself there upon a rock, watching for an opportunity of catching the pearl alone without its admirer. As soon as it came about that the shark had happened upon something which would serve him for food, and was delaying over it, the fisherman left upon the beach those who were following him for this service, and made straight for the oyster with all his might; already he had seized it and was hastening with all speed to get out of the water, when the shark noticed him and rushed to the rescue. The fisherman saw him coming, and, when he was about to be overtaken not far from the beach, he hurled his booty with all his force upon the land, and was himself soon afterwards seized and destroyed. But the men who had been left upon the beach picked up the pearl, and, conveying it to the king, reported all that had happened. Such, then, is the story which the Persians relate, just as I have set it down, concerning this pearl. But I shall return to the previous narrative. [484 A.D.] Thus Perozes was destroyed and the whole Persian army with him. For the few who by chance did not fall into the ditch found themselves at the mercy of the enemy. As a result of this experience a law was established among the Persians that, while marching in hostile territory, they should never engage in any pursuit, even if it should happen that the enemy had been driven back by force. Thereupon those who had not marched with Perozes and had remained in their own land chose as their king Cabades, the youngest son of Perozes, who was then the only one surviving. At that time, then, the Persians became subject and tributary to the Ephthalitae, until Cabades had established his power most securely and no longer deemed it necessary to pay the annual tribute to them. And the time these barbarians ruled over the Persians was two years. V But as time went on Cabades became more high-handed in the administration of the government, and introduced innovations into the constitution, among which was a law which he promulgated providing that Persians should have communal intercourse with their women, a measure which by no means pleased the common people. [486 A.D.] Accordingly they rose against him, removed him from the throne, and kept him in prison in chains. They then chose Blases, the brother of Perozes, to be their king, since, as has been said, no male offspring of Perozes was left, and it is not lawful among the Persians for any man by birth a common citizen to be set upon the throne, except in case the royal family be totally extinct. Blases, upon receiving the royal power, gathered together the nobles of the Persians and held a conference concerning Cabades; for it was not the wish of the majority to put the man to death. After the expression of many opinions on both sides there came forward a certain man of repute among the Persians, whose name was Gousanastades, and whose office that of "chanaranges" (which would be the Persian term for general); his official province lay on the very frontier of the Persian territory in a district which adjoins the land of the Ephthalitae. Holding up his knife, the kind with which the Persians were accustomed to trim their nails, of about the length of a man's finger, but not one-third as wide as a finger, he said: "You see this knife, how extremely small it is; nevertheless it is able at the present time to accomplish a deed, which, be assured, my dear Persians, a little later two myriads of mail-clad men could not bring to pass." This he said hinting that, if they did not put Cabades to death, he would straightway make trouble for the Persians. But they were altogether unwilling to put to death a man of the royal blood, and decided to confine him in a castle which it is their habit to call the "Prison of Oblivion." For if anyone is cast into it, the law permits no mention of him to be made thereafter, but death is the penalty for the man who speaks his name; for this reason it has received this title among the Persians. On one occasion, however, the History of the Armenians relates that the operation of the law regarding the Prison of Oblivion was suspended by the Persians in the following way. There was once a truceless war, lasting two and thirty years, between the Persians and the Armenians, when Pacurius was king of the Persians, and of the Armenians, Arsaces, of the line of the Arsacidae. And by the long continuance of this war it came about that both sides suffered beyond measure, and especially the Armenians. But each nation was possessed by such great distrust of the other that neither of them could make overtures of peace to their opponents. In the meantime it happened that the Persians became engaged in a war with certain other barbarians who lived not far from the Armenians. Accordingly the Armenians, in their eagerness to make a display to the Persians of their goodwill and desire for peace, decided to invade the land of these barbarians, first revealing their plan to the Persians. Then they fell upon them unexpectedly and killed almost the whole population, old and young alike. Thereupon Pacurius, who was overjoyed at the deed, sent certain of his trusted friends to Arsaces, and giving him pledges of security, invited him to his presence. And when Arsaces came to him he shewed him every kindness, and treated him as a brother on an equal footing with himself. Then he bound him by the most solemn oaths, and he himself swore likewise, that in very truth the Persians and Armenians should thenceforth be friends and allies to each other; thereafter he straightway dismissed Arsaces to return to his own country. Not long after this certain persons slandered Arsaces, saying that he was purposing to undertake some seditious enterprise. Pacurius was persuaded by these men and again summoned him, intimating that he was anxious to confer with him on general matters. And he, without any hesitation at all, came to the king, taking with him several of the most warlike among the Armenians, and among them Bassicius, who was at once his general and counsellor; for he was both brave and sagacious to a remarkable degree. Straightway, then, Pacurius heaped reproach and abuse upon both Arsaces and Bassicius, because, disregarding the sworn compact, they had so speedily turned their thoughts toward secession. They, however, denied the charge, and swore most insistently that no such thing had been considered by them. At first, therefore, Pacurius kept them under guard in disgrace, but after a time he enquired of the Magi what should be done with them. Now the Magi deemed it by no means just to condemn men who denied their guilt and had not been explicitly found guilty, but they suggested to him an artifice by which Arsaces himself might be compelled to become openly his own accuser. They bade him cover the floor of the royal tent with earth, one half from the land of Persia, and the other half from Armenia. This the king did as directed. Then the Magi, after putting the whole tent under a spell by means of some magic rites, bade the king take his walk there in company with Arsaces, reproaching him meanwhile with having violated the sworn agreement. They said, further, that they too must be present at the conversation, for in this way there would be witnesses of all that was said. Accordingly Pacurius straightway summoned Arsaces, and began to walk to and fro with him in the tent in the presence of the Magi; he enquired of the man why he had disregarded his sworn promises, and was setting about to harass the Persians and Armenians once more with grievous troubles. Now as long as the conversation took place on the ground which was covered with the earth from the land of Persia, Arsaces continued to make denial, and, pledging himself with the most fearful oaths, insisted that he was a faithful subject of Pacurius. But when, in the midst of his speaking, he came to the centre of the tent where they stepped upon Armenian earth, then, compelled by some unknown power, he suddenly changed the tone of his words to one of defiance, and from then on ceased not to threaten Pacurius and the Persians, announcing that he would have vengeance upon them for this insolence as soon as he should become his own master. These words of youthful folly he continued to utter as they walked all the way, until turning back, he came again to the earth from the Persian land. Thereupon, as if chanting a recantation, he was once more a suppliant, offering pitiable explanations to Pacurius. But when he came again to the Armenian earth, he returned to his threats. In this way he changed many times to one side and the other, and concealed none of his secrets. Then at length the Magi passed judgment against him as having violated the treaty and the oaths. Pacurius flayed Bassicius, and, making a bag of his skin, filled it with chaff and suspended it from a lofty tree. As for Arsaces, since Pacurius could by no means bring himself to kill a man of the royal blood, he confined him in the Prison of Oblivion. After a time, when the Persians were marching against a barbarian nation, they were accompanied by an Armenian who had been especially intimate with Arsaces and had followed him when he went into the Persian land. This man proved himself a capable warrior in this campaign, as Pacurius observed, and was the chief cause of the Persian victory. For this reason Pacurius begged him to make any request he wished, assuring him that he would be refused nothing by him. The Armenian asked for nothing else than that he might for one day pay homage to Arsaces in the way he might desire. Now it annoyed the king exceedingly, that he should be compelled to set aside a law so ancient; however, in order to be wholly true to his word, he permitted that the request be granted. When the man found himself by the king's order in the Prison of Oblivion, he greeted Arsaces, and both men, embracing each other, joined their voices in a sweet lament, and, bewailing the hard fate that was upon them, were able only with difficulty to release each other from the embrace. Then, when they had sated themselves with weeping and ceased from tears, the Armenian bathed Arsaces, and completely adorned his person, neglecting nothing, and, putting on him the royal robe, caused him to recline on a bed of rushes. Then Arsaces entertained those present with a royal banquet just as was formerly his custom. During this feast many speeches were made over the cups which greatly pleased Arsaces, and many incidents occurred which delighted his heart. The drinking was prolonged until nightfall, all feeling the keenest delight in their mutual intercourse; at length they parted from each other with great reluctance, and separated thoroughly imbued with happiness. Then they tell how Arsaces said that after spending the sweetest day of his life, and enjoying the company of the man he had missed most of all, he would no longer willingly endure the miseries of life; and with these words, they say, he dispatched himself with a knife which, as it happened, he had purposely stolen at the banquet, and thus departed from among men. Such then is the story concerning this Arsaces, related in the Armenian History just as I have told it, and it was on that occasion that the law regarding the Prison of Oblivion was set aside. But I must return to the point from which I have strayed. VI While Cabades was in the prison he was cared for by his wife, who went in to him constantly and carried him supplies of food. Now the keeper of the prison began to make advances to her, for she was exceedingly beautiful to look upon. And when Cabades learned this from his wife, he bade her give herself over to the man to treat as he wished. In this way the keeper of the prison came to be familiar with the woman, and he conceived for her an extraordinary love, and as a result permitted her to go in to her husband just as she wished, and to depart from there again without interference from anyone. Now there was a Persian notable, Seoses by name, a devoted friend of Cabades, who was constantly in the neighbourhood of this prison, watching his opportunity, in the hope that he might in some way be able to effect his deliverance. And he sent word to Cabades through his wife that he was keeping horses and men in readiness not far from the prison, and he indicated to him a certain spot. Then one day as night drew near Cabades persuaded his wife to give him her own garment, and, dressing herself in his clothes, to sit instead of him in the prison where he usually sat. In this way, therefore, Cabades made his escape from the prison. For although the guards who were on duty saw him, they supposed that it was the woman, and therefore decided not to hinder or otherwise annoy him. At daybreak they saw in the cell the woman in her husband's clothes, and were so completely deceived as to think that Cabades was there, and this belief prevailed during several days, until Cabades had advanced well on his way. As to the fate which befell the woman after the stratagem had come to light, and the manner in which they punished her, I am unable to speak with accuracy. For the Persian accounts do not agree with each other, and for this reason I omit the narration of them. Cabades, in company with Seoses, completely escaped detection, and reached the Ephthalitae Huns; there the king gave him his daughter in marriage, and then, since Cabades was now his son-in-law, he put under his command a very formidable army for a campaign against the Persians. This army the Persians were quite unwilling to encounter, and they made haste to flee in every direction. And when Cabades reached the territory where Gousanastades exercised his authority, he stated to some of his friends that he would appoint as chanaranges the first man of the Persians who should on that day come into his presence and offer his services. But even as he said this, he repented his speech, for there came to his mind a law of the Persians which ordains that offices among the Persians shall not be conferred upon others than those to whom each particular honour belongs by right of birth. For he feared lest someone should come to him first who was not a kinsman of the present chanaranges, and that he would be compelled to set aside the law in order to keep his word. Even as he was considering this matter, chance brought it about that, without dishonouring the law, he could still keep his word. For the first man who came to him happened to be Adergoudounbades, a young man who was a relative of Gousanastades and an especially capable warrior. He addressed Cabades as "Lord," and was the first to do obeisance to him as king, and besought him to use him as a slave for any service whatever. [488 A.D.] So Cabades made his way into the royal palace without any trouble, and, taking Blases destitute of defenders, he put out his eyes, using the method of blinding commonly employed by the Persians against malefactors, that is, either by heating olive oil and pouring it, while boiling fiercely, into the wide-open eyes, or by heating in the fire an iron needle, and with this pricking the eyeballs. Thereafter Blases was kept in confinement, having ruled over the Persians two years. Gousanastades was put to death and Adergoudounbades was established in his place in the office of chanaranges, while Seoses was immediately proclaimed "adrastadaran salanes,"--a title designating the one set in authority over all magistrates and over the whole army. Seoses was the first and only man who held this office in Persia; for it was conferred on no one before or after that time. And the kingdom was strengthened by Cabades and guarded securely; for in shrewdness and activity he was surpassed by none. VII. A little later Cabades was owing the king of the Ephthalitae a sum of money which he was not able to pay him, and he therefore requested the Roman emperor Anastasius to lend him this money. Whereupon Anastasius conferred with some of his friends and enquired of them whether this should be done; and they would not permit him to make the loan. For, as they pointed out, it was inexpedient to make more secure by means of their money the friendship between their enemies and the Ephthalitae; indeed it was better for the Romans to disturb their relations as much as possible. It was for this reason, and for no just cause, that Cabades decided to make an expedition against the Romans. [502 A.D.] First he invaded the land of the Armenians, moving with such rapidity as to anticipate the news of his coming, and, after plundering the greater part of it in a rapid campaign, he unexpectedly arrived at the city of Amida, which is situated in Mesopotamia, and, although the season was winter, he invested the town. Now the citizens of Amida had no soldiers at hand, seeing that it was a time of peace and prosperity, and in other respects were utterly unprepared; nevertheless they were quite unwilling to yield to the enemy, and shewed an unexpected fortitude in holding out against dangers and hardships. Now there was among the Syrians a certain just man, Jacobus by name, who had trained himself with exactitude in matters pertaining to religion. This man had confined himself many years before in a place called Endielon, a day's journey from Amida, in order that he might with more security devote himself to pious contemplation. The men of this place, assisting his purpose, had surrounded him with a kind of fencing, in which the stakes were not continuous, but set at intervals, so that those who approached could see and hold converse with him. And they had constructed for him a small roof over his head, sufficient to keep off the rain and snow. There this man had been sitting for a long time, never yielding either to heat or cold, and sustaining his life with certain seeds, which he was accustomed to eat, not indeed every day, but only at long intervals. Now some of the Ephthalitae who were overrunning the country thereabout saw this Jacobus and with great eagerness drew their bows with intent to shoot at him. But the hands of every one of them became motionless and utterly unable to manage the bow. When this was noised about through the army and came to the ears of Cabades, he desired to see the thing with his own eyes; and when he saw it, both he and the Persians who were with him were seized with great astonishment, and he entreated Jacobus to forgive the barbarians their crime. And he forgave them with a word, and the men were released from their distress. Cabades then bade the man ask for whatever he wished, supposing that he would ask for a great sum of money, and he also added with youthful recklessness that he would be refused nothing by him. But he requested Cabades to grant to him all the men who during that war should come to him as fugitives. This request Cabades granted, and gave him a written pledge of his personal safety. And great numbers of men, as might be expected, came flocking to him from all sides and found safety there; for the deed became widely known. Thus, then, did these things take place. Cabades, in besieging Amida, brought against every part of the defences the engines known as rams; but the townspeople constantly broke off the heads of the rams by means of timbers thrown across them[8]. However, Cabades did not slacken his efforts until he realized that the wall could not be successfully assailed in this way. For, though he battered the wall many times, he was quite unable to break down any portion of the defence, or even to shake it; so secure had been the work of the builders who had constructed it long before. Failing in this, Cabades raised an artificial hill to threaten the city, considerably overtopping the wall; but the besieged, starting from the inside of their defences, made a tunnel extending under the hill, and from there stealthily carried out the earth, until they hollowed out a great part of the inside of the hill. However, the outside kept the form which it had at first assumed, and afforded no opportunity to anyone of discovering what was being done. Accordingly many Persians mounted it, thinking it safe, and stationed themselves on the summit with the purpose of shooting down upon the heads of those inside the fortifications. But with the great mass of men crowding upon it with a rush, the hill suddenly fell in and killed almost all of them. Cabades, then, finding no remedy for the situation, decided to raise the siege, and he issued orders to the army to retreat on the morrow. Then indeed the besieged, as though they had no thought of their danger, began laughingly from the fortifications to jeer at the barbarians. Besides this some courtesans shamelessly drew up their clothing and displayed to Cabades, who was standing close by, those parts of a woman's body which it is not proper that men should see uncovered. This was plainly seen by the Magi, and they thereupon came before the king and tried to prevent the retreat, declaring as their interpretation of what had happened that the citizens of Amida would shortly disclose to Cabades all their secret and hidden things. So the Persian army remained there. Not many days later one of the Persians saw close by one of the towers the mouth of an old underground passage, which was insecurely concealed with some few small stones. In the night he came there alone, and, making trial of the entrance, got inside the circuit-wall; then at daybreak he reported the whole matter to Cabades. The king himself on the following night came to the spot with a few men, bringing ladders which he had made ready. And he was favoured by a piece of good fortune; for the defence of the very tower which happened to be nearest to the passage had fallen by lot to those of the Christians who are most careful in their observances, whom they call monks. These men, as chance would have it, were keeping some annual religious festival to God on that day. When night came on they all felt great weariness[9] on account of the festival, and, having sated themselves with food and drink beyond their wont, they fell into a sweet and gentle sleep, and were consequently quite unaware of what was going on. So the Persians made their way through the passage inside the fortifications, a few at a time, and, mounting the tower, they found the monks still sleeping and slew them to a man. When Cabades learned this, he brought his ladders up to the wall close by this tower. It was already day. And those of the townsmen who were keeping guard on the adjoining tower became aware of the disaster, and ran thither with all speed to give assistance. Then for a long time both sides struggled to crowd back the other, and already the townsmen were gaining the advantage, killing many of those who had mounted the wall, and throwing back the men on the ladders, and they came very near to averting the danger. But Cabades drew his sword and, terrifying the Persians constantly with it, rushed in person to the ladders and would not let them draw back, and death was the punishment for those who dared turn to leave. As a result of this the Persians by their numbers gained the upper hand and overcame their antagonists in the fight. So the city was captured by storm on the eightieth day after the beginning of the siege. [Jan. 11, 503 A.D.] There followed a great massacre of the townspeople, until one of the citizens--an old man and a priest--approached Cabades as he was riding into the city, and said that it was not a kingly act to slaughter captives. Then Cabades, still moved with passion, replied: "But why did you decide to fight against me?" And the old man answered quickly: "Because God willed to give Amida into thy hand not so much because of our decision as of thy valour." Cabades was pleased by this speech, and permitted no further slaughter, but he bade the Persians plunder the property and make slaves of the survivors, and he directed them to choose out for himself all the notables among them. A short time after this he departed, leaving there to garrison the place a thousand men under command of Glones, a Persian, and some few unfortunates among the citizens of Amida who were destined to minister as servants to the daily wants of the Persians; he himself with all the remainder of the army and the captives marched away homeward. These captives were treated by Cabades with a generosity befitting a king; for after a short time he released all of them to return to their homes, but he pretended that they had escaped from him by stealth[10]; and the Roman Emperor, Anastasius, also shewed them honour worthy of their bravery, for he remitted to the city all the annual taxes for the space of seven years, and presented all of them as a body and each one of them separately with many good things, so that they came fully to forget the misfortunes which had befallen them. But this happened in later years. VIII At that time the Emperor Anastasius, upon learning that Amida was being besieged, dispatched with all speed an army of sufficient strength. But in this army there were general officers in command of every symmory[11], while the supreme command was divided between the following four generals: Areobindus, at that time General of the East, the son-in-law of Olyvrius, who had been Emperor in the West not long before; Celer, commander of the palace troops (this officer the Romans are accustomed to call "magister"); besides these still, there were the commanders of troops in Byzantium, Patricias, the Phrygian, and Hypatius, the nephew of the emperor; these four, then, were the generals. With them also was associated Justinus, who at a later time became emperor upon the death of Anastasius, and Patriciolus with his son Vitalianus, who raised an armed insurrection against the Emperor Anastasius not long afterwards and made himself tyrant; also Pharesmanes, a native of Colchis, and a man of exceptional ability as a warrior, and the Goths Godidisklus and Bessas, who were among those Goths who had not followed Theoderic when he went from Thrace into Italy, both of them men of the noblest birth and experienced in matters pertaining to warfare; many others, too, who were men of high station, joined this army. For such an army, they say, was never assembled by the Romans against the Persians either before or after that time. However, all these men did not assemble in one body, nor did they form a single army as they marched, but each commander by himself led his own division separately against the enemy. And as manager of the finances of the army Apion, an Aegyptian, was sent, a man of eminence among the patricians and extremely energetic; and the emperor in a written statement declared him partner in the royal power, in order that he might have authority to administer the finances as he wished. Now this army was mustered with considerable delay, and advanced with little speed. As a result of this they did not find the barbarians in the Roman territory; for the Persians had made their attack suddenly, and had immediately withdrawn with all their booty to their own land. Now no one of the generals desired for the present to undertake the siege of the garrison left in Amida, for they learned that they had carried in a large supply of provisions; but they made haste to invade the land of the enemy. However they did not advance together against the barbarians but they encamped apart from one another as they proceeded. When Cabades learned this (for he happened to be close by), he came with all speed to the Roman frontier and confronted them. But the Romans had not yet learned that Cabades was moving against them with his whole force, and they supposed that some small Persian army was there. Accordingly the forces of Areobindus established their camp in a place called Arzamon, at a distance of two days' journey from the city of Constantina, and those of Patricius and Hypatius in a place called Siphrios, which is distant not less than three hundred and fifty stades from the city of Amida. As for Celer, he had not yet arrived. Areobindus, when he ascertained that Cabades was coming upon them with his whole army, abandoned his camp, and, in company with all his men, turned to flight and retired on the run to Constantina. And the enemy, coming up not long afterwards, captured the camp without a man in it and all the money it contained. From there they advanced swiftly against the other Roman army. Now the troops of Patricius and Hypatius had happened upon eight hundred Ephthalitae who were marching in advance of the Persian army, and they had killed practically all of them. Then, since they had learned nothing of Cabades and the Persian army, supposing that they had won the victory, they began to conduct themselves with less caution. At any rate they had stacked their arms and were preparing themselves a lunch; for already the appropriate time of day was drawing near. Now a small stream flowed in this place and in it the Romans began to wash the pieces of meat which they were about to eat; some, too, distressed by the heat, were bathing themselves in the stream; and in consequence the brook flowed on with a muddy current. But while Cabades, learning what had befallen the Ephthalitae, was advancing against the enemy with all speed, he noticed that the water of the brook was disturbed, and divining what was going on, he came to the conclusion that his opponents were unprepared, and gave orders to charge upon them immediately at full speed. [Aug., 503 A.D.] Straightway, then, they fell upon them feasting and unarmed. And the Romans did not withstand their onset, nor did they once think of resistance, but they began to flee as each one could; and some of them were captured and slain, while others climbed the hill which rises there and threw themselves down the cliff in panic and much confusion. And they say that not a man escaped from there; but Patricius and Hypatius had succeeded in getting away at the beginning of the onset. After this Cabades retired homeward with his whole army, since hostile Huns had made an invasion into his land, and with this people he waged a long war in the northerly portion of his realm. In the meantime the other Roman army also came, but they did nothing worth recounting, because, it seems, no one was made commander-in-chief of the expedition; but all the generals were of equal rank, and consequently they were always opposing one another's opinions and were utterly unable to unite. However Celer, with his contingent, crossed the Nymphius River and made some sort of an invasion into Arzanene. This river is one very close to Martyropolis, about three hundred stades from Amida. So Celer's troops plundered the country thereabout and returned not long after, and the whole invasion was completed in a short time. IX After this Areobindus went to Byzantium at the summons of the emperor, while the other generals reached Amida, and, in spite of the winter season, invested it. And although they made many attempts they were unable to carry the fortress by storm, but they were on the point of accomplishing their object by starvation; for all the provisions of the besieged were exhausted. The generals, however, had ascertained nothing of the straits in which the enemy were; but since they saw that their own troops were distressed by the labour of the siege and the wintry weather, and at the same time suspected that a Persian army would be coming upon them before long, they were eager to quit the place on any terms whatever. The Persians, on their part, not knowing what would become of them in such terrible straits, continued to conceal scrupulously their lack of the necessities of life, and made it appear that they had an abundance of all provisions, wishing to return to their homes with the reputation of honour. So a proposal was discussed between them, according to which the Persians were to deliver over the city to the Romans upon receipt of one thousand pounds of gold. Both parties then gladly executed the terms of the agreement, and the son of Glones, upon receiving the money, delivered over Amida to the Romans. For Glones himself had already died in the following manner. When the Romans had not yet encamped before the city of Amida but were not far from its vicinity, a certain countryman, who was accustomed to enter the city secretly with fowls and loaves and many other delicacies, which he sold to this Glones at a great price, came before the general Patricius and promised to deliver into his hands Glones and two hundred Persians, if he should receive from him assurance of some requital. And the general promised that he should have everything he desired, and thus dismissed the fellow. He then tore his garments in a dreadful manner, and, assuming the aspect of one who had been weeping, entered the city. And coming before Glones, and tearing his hair he said: "O Master, I happened to be bringing in for you all the good things from my village, when some Roman soldiers chanced upon me (for, as you know, they are constantly wandering about the country here in small bands and doing violence to the miserable country-folk), and they inflicted upon me blows not to be endured, and, taking away everything, they departed,--the robbers, whose ancient custom it is to fear the Persians and to beat the farmers. But do you, O Master, take thought to defend yourself and us and the Persians. For if you go hunting into the outskirts of the city, you will find rare game. For the accursed rascals go about by fours or fives to do their robbery." Thus he spoke. And Glones was persuaded, and enquired of the fellow about how many Persians he thought would be sufficient for him to carry out the enterprise. He said that about fifty would do, for they would never meet more than five of them going together; however, in order to forestall any unexpected circumstance, it would do no harm to take with him even one hundred men; and if he should double this number it would be still better from every point of view; for no harm could come to a man from the larger number. Glones accordingly picked out two hundred horsemen and bade the fellow lead the way for them. But he insisted that it was better for him to be sent first to spy out the ground, and, if he should bring back word that he had seen Romans still going about in the same districts, that then the Persians should make their sally at the fitting moment. Accordingly, since he seemed to Glones to speak well, he was sent forward by his own order. Then he came before the general Patricius and explained everything; and the general sent with him two of his own body-guard and a thousand soldiers. These he concealed about a village called Thilasamon, forty stades distant from Amida, among valleys and woody places, and instructed them to remain there in this ambush; he himself then proceeded to the city on the run, and telling Glones that the prey was ready, he led him and the two hundred horsemen upon the ambush of the enemy. And when they passed the spot where the Romans were lying in wait, without being observed by Glones or any of the Persians, he roused the Romans from their ambuscade and pointed out to them the enemy. And when the Persians saw the men coming against them, they were astounded at the suddenness of the thing, and were in much distress what to do. For neither could they retire to the rear, since their opponents were behind them, nor were they able to flee anywhere else in a hostile land. But as well as they could under the circumstances, they arrayed themselves for battle and tried to drive back their assailants; but being at a great disadvantage in numbers they were vanquished, and all of them together with Glones were destroyed. Now when the son of Glones learned of this, being deeply grieved and at the same time furious with anger because he had not been able to defend his father, he fired the sanctuary of Symeon, a holy man, where Glones had his lodging. It must be said, however, that with the exception of this one building, neither Glones nor Cabades, nor indeed any other of the Persians, saw fit either to tear down or to destroy in any other way any building in Amida at any rate, or outside this city. But I shall return to the previous narrative. [504 A.D.] Thus the Romans by giving the money recovered Amida two years after it had been captured by the enemy. And when they got into the city, their own negligence and the hardships under which the Persians had maintained themselves were discovered. For upon reckoning the amount of grain left there and the number of barbarians who had gone out, they found that rations for about seven days were left in the city, although Glones and his son had been for a long time doling out provisions to the Persians more sparingly than they were needed. For to the Romans who had remained with them in the city, as I have stated above, they had decided to dispense nothing at all from the time when their enemy began the siege; and so these men at first resorted to unaccustomed foods and laid hold on every forbidden thing, and at the last they even tasted each other's blood. So the generals realized that they had been deceived by the barbarians, and they reproached the soldiers for their lack of self-control, because they had shewn themselves wanting in obedience to them, when it was possible to capture as prisoners of war such a multitude of Persians and the son of Glones and the city itself, while they had in consequence attached to themselves signal disgrace by carrying Roman money to the enemy, and had taken Amida from the Persians by purchasing it with silver. [506 A.D.] After this the Persians, since their war with the Huns kept dragging on, entered into a treaty with the Romans, which was arranged by them for seven years, and was made by the Roman Celer and the Persian Aspebedes; both armies then retired homeward and remained at peace. Thus, then, as has been told, began the war of the Romans and the Persians, and to this end did it come. But I shall now turn to the narration of the events touching the Caspian Gates. X The Taurus mountain range of Cilicia passes first Cappadocia and Armenia and the land of the so-called Persarmenians, then also Albania and Iberia and all the other countries in this region, both independent and subject to Persia. For it extends to a great distance, and as one proceeds along this range, it always spreads out to an extraordinary breadth and rises to an imposing height. And as one passes beyond the boundary of Iberia there is a sort of path in a very narrow passage, extending for a distance of fifty stades. This path terminates in a place cut off by cliffs and, as it seems, absolutely impossible to pass through. For from there no way out appears, except indeed a small gate set there by nature, just as if it had been made by the hand of man, which has been called from of old the Caspian Gates. From there on there are plains suitable for riding and extremely well watered, and extensive tracts used as pasture land for horses, and level besides. Here almost all the nations of the Huns are settled, extending as far as the Maeotic lake. Now if these Huns go through the gate which I have just mentioned into the land of the Persians and the Romans, they come with their horses fresh and without making any detour or encountering any precipitous places, except in those fifty stades over which, as has been said, they pass to the boundary of Iberia. If, however, they go by any other passes, they reach their destination with great difficulty, and can no longer use the same horses. For the detours which they are forced to make are many and steep besides. When this was observed by Alexander, the son of Philip, he constructed gates in the aforesaid place and established a fortress there. And this was held by many men in turn as time went on, and finally by Ambazouces, a Hun by birth, but a friend of the Romans and the Emperor Anastasius. Now when this Ambazouces had reached an advanced age and was near to death, he sent to Anastasius asking that money be given him, on condition that he hand over the fortress and the Caspian Gates to the Romans. But the Emperor Anastasius was incapable of doing anything without careful investigation, nor was it his custom to act thus: reasoning, therefore, that it was impossible for him to support soldiers in a place which was destitute of all good things, and which had nowhere in the neighbourhood a nation subject to the Romans, he expressed deep gratitude to the man for his good-will toward him, but by no means accepted this proposition. So Ambazouces died of disease not long afterwards, and Cabades overpowered his sons and took possession of the Gates. The Emperor Anastasius, after concluding the treaty with Cabades, built a city in a place called Daras, exceedingly strong and of real importance, bearing the name of the emperor himself. Now this place is distant from the city of Nisibis one hundred stades lacking two, and from the boundary line which divides the Romans from the Persians about twenty-eight. And the Persians, though eager to prevent the building, were quite unable to do so, being constrained by the war with the Huns in which they were engaged. But as soon as Cabades brought this to an end, he sent to the Romans and accused them of having built a city hard by the Persian frontier, though this had been forbidden in the agreement previously made between the Medes and the Romans[12]. At that time, therefore, the Emperor Anastasius desired, partly by threats, and partly by emphasizing his friendship with him and by bribing him with no mean sum of money, to deceive him and to remove the accusation. And another city also was built by this emperor, similar to the first, in Armenia, hard by the boundaries of Persarmenia; now in this place there had been a village from of old, but it had taken on the dignity of a city by the favour of the Emperor Theodosius even to the name, for it had come to be named after him[13]. But Anastasius surrounded it with a very substantial wall, and thus gave offence to the Persians no less than by the other city; for both of them are strongholds menacing their country. XI [Aug. 1, 518 A.D.] And when a little later Anastasius died, Justinus received the empire, forcing aside all the kinsmen of Anastasius, although they were numerous and also very distinguished. Then indeed a sort of anxiety came over Cabades, lest the Persians should make some attempt to overthrow his house as soon as he should end his life; for it was certain that he would not pass on the kingdom to any one of his sons without opposition. For while the law called to the throne the eldest of his children Caoses by reason of his age, he was by no means pleasing to Cabades; and the father's judgment did violence to the law of nature and of custom as well. And Zames, who was second in age, having had one of his eyes struck out, was prevented by the law. For it is not lawful for a one-eyed man or one having any other deformity to become king over the Persians. But Chosroes, who was born to him by the sister of Aspebedes, the father loved exceedingly; seeing, however, that all the Persians, practically speaking, felt an extravagant admiration for the manliness of Zames (for he was a capable warrior), and worshipped his other virtues, he feared lest they should rise against Chosroes and do irreparable harm to the family and to the kingdom. Therefore it seemed best to him to arrange with the Romans to put an end both to the war and the causes of war, on condition that Chosroes be made an adopted son of the Emperor Justinus; for only in this way could he preserve stability in the government. Accordingly he sent envoys to treat of this matter and a letter to the Emperor Justinus in Byzantium. And the letter was written in this wise: "Unjust indeed has been the treatment which we have received at the hands of the Romans, as even you yourself know, but I have seen fit to abandon entirely all the charges against you, being assured of this, that the most truly victorious of all men would be those who, with justice on their side, are still willingly overcome and vanquished by their friends. However I ask of you a certain favour in return for this, which would bind together in kinship and in the good-will which would naturally spring from this relation not only ourselves but also all our subjects, and which would be calculated to bring us to a satiety of the blessings of peace. My proposal, then, is this, that you should make my son Chosroes, who will be my successor to the throne, your adopted son." When this message was brought to the Emperor Justinus, he himself was overjoyed and Justinian also, the nephew of the emperor, who indeed was expected to receive from him the empire. And they were making all haste to perform the act of setting down in Writing the adoption, as the law of the Romans prescribes--and would have done so, had they not been prevented by Proclus, who was at that time a counsellor to the emperor, holding the office of quaestor, as it is called, a just man and one whom it was manifestly impossible to bribe; for this reason he neither readily proposed any law, nor was he willing to disturb in any way the settled order of things; and he at that time also opposed the proposition, speaking as follows: "To venture on novel projects is not my custom, and indeed I dread them more than any others; for where there is innovation security is by no means preserved. And it seems to me that, even if one should be especially bold in this matter, he would feel reluctance to do the thing and would tremble at the storm which would arise from it; for I believe that nothing else is before our consideration at the present time than the question how we may hand over the Roman empire to the Persians on a seemly pretext. For they make no concealment nor do they employ any blinds, but explicitly acknowledging their purpose they claim without more ado to rob us of our empire, seeking to veil the manifestness of their deceit under a shew of simplicity, and hide a shameless intent behind a pretended unconcern. And yet both of you ought to repel this attempt of the barbarians with all your power; thou, O Emperor, in order that thou mayst not be the last Emperor of the Romans, and thou, O General, that thou mayst not prove a stumbling block to thyself as regards coming to the throne. For other crafty devices which are commonly concealed by a pretentious shew of words might perhaps need an interpreter for the many, but this embassy openly and straight from the very first words means to make this Chosroes, whoever he is, the adopted heir of the Roman Emperor. For I would have you reason thus in this matter: by nature the possessions of fathers are due to their sons and while the laws among all men are always in conflict with each other by reason of their varying nature, in this matter both among the Romans and among all barbarians they are in agreement and harmony with each other, in that they declare sons to be masters of their fathers' inheritance. Take this first resolve if you choose: if you do you must agree to all its consequences." Thus spoke Proclus; and the emperor and his nephew gave ear to his words and deliberated upon what should be done. In the meantime Cabades sent another letter also to the Emperor Justinus, asking him to send men of repute in order to establish peace with him, and to indicate by letter the manner in which it would be his desire to accomplish the adoption of his son. And then, indeed, still more than before Proclus decried the attempt of the Persians, and insisted that their concern was to make over to themselves as securely as possible the Roman power. And he proposed as his opinion that the peace should be concluded with them with all possible speed, and that the noblest men should be sent by the emperor for this purpose; and that these men must answer plainly to Cabades, when he enquired in what manner the adoption of Chosroes should be accomplished, that it must be of the sort befitting a barbarian, and his meaning was that the barbarians adopt sons, not by a document, but by arms and armour[14]. Accordingly the Emperor Justinus dismissed the envoys, promising that men who were the noblest of the Romans would follow them not long afterwards, and that they would arrange a settlement regarding the peace and regarding Chosroes in the best possible way. He also answered Cabades by letter to the same effect. Accordingly there were sent from the Romans Hypatius, the nephew of Anastasius, the late emperor, a patrician who also held the office of General of the East, and Rufinus, the son of Silvanus, a man of note among the patricians and known to Cabades through their fathers; from the Persians came one of great power and high authority, Seoses by name, whose title was adrastadaran salanes, and Mebodes, who held the office of magister. These men came together at a certain spot which is on the boundary line between the land of the Romans and the Persians: there they met and negotiated as to how they should do away with their differences and settle effectually the question of the peace. Chosroes also came to the Tigris River, which is distant from the city of Nisibis about two days journey, in order that, when the details of the peace should seem to both parties to be as well arranged as possible, he might betake himself in person to Byzantium. Now many words were spoken on both sides touching the differences between them, and in particular Seoses made mention of the land of Colchis, which is now called Lazica, saying that it had been subject to the Persians from of old and that the Romans had taken it from them by violence and held it on no just grounds. When the Romans heard this, they were indignant to think that even Lazica should be disputed by the Persians. And when they in turn stated that the adoption of Chosroes must take place just as is proper for a barbarian, it seemed to the Persians unbearable. The two parties therefore separated and departed homeward, and Chosroes with nothing accomplished was off to his father, deeply injured at what had taken place and vowing vengeance on the Romans for their insult to him. After this Mebodes began to slander Seoses to Cabades, saying that he had proposed the discussion of Lazica purposely, although he had not been instructed to do so by his master, thereby frustrating the peace, and also that he had had words previously with Hypatius, who was by no means well-disposed toward his own sovereign and was trying to prevent the conclusion of peace and the adoption of Chosroes; and many other accusations also were brought forward by the enemies of Seoses, and he was summoned to trial. Now the whole Persian council gathered to sit in judgment moved more by envy than by respect for the law. For they were thoroughly hostile to his office, which was unfamiliar to them, and also were embittered by the natural temper of the man. For while Seoses was a man quite impossible to bribe, and a most exact respecter of justice, he was afflicted with a degree of arrogance not to be compared with that of any other. This quality, indeed, seems to be inbred in the Persian officials, but in Seoses even they thought that the malady had developed to an altogether extraordinary degree. So his accusers said all those things which have been indicated above, and added to this that the man was by no means willing to live in the established fashion or to uphold the institutions of the Persians. For he both reverenced strange divinities, and lately, when his wife had died, he had buried her, though it was forbidden by the laws of the Persians ever to hide in the earth the bodies of the dead. The judges therefore condemned the man to death, while Cabades, though seeming to be deeply moved with sympathy as a friend of Seoses, was by no means willing to rescue him. He did not, on the other hand, make it known that he was angry with him, but, as he said, he was not willing to undo the laws of the Persians, although he owed the man the price of his life, since Seoses was chiefly responsible both for the fact that he was alive and also that he was king. Thus, then, Seoses was condemned and was removed from among men. And the office which began with him ended also with him. For no other man has been made adrastadaran salanes. Rufinus also slandered Hypatius to the emperor. As a result of this the emperor reduced him from his office, and tortured most cruelly certain of his associates only to find out that this slander was absolutely unsound; beyond this, however, he did Hypatius no harm. XII Immediately after this, Cabades, though eager to make some kind of an invasion into the land of the Romans, was utterly unable to do so on account of the following obstacle which happened to arise. The Iberians, who live in Asia, are settled in the immediate neighbourhood of the Caspian Gates, which lie to the north of them. Adjoining them on the left towards the west is Lazica, and on the right towards the east are the Persian peoples. This nation is Christian and they guard the rites of this faith more closely than any other men known to us, but they have been subjects of the Persian king, as it happens, from ancient times. And just then Cabades was desirous of forcing them to adopt the rites of his own religion. And he enjoined upon their king, Gourgenes, to do all things as the Persians are accustomed to do them, and in particular not under any circumstances to hide their dead in the earth, but to throw them all to the birds and dogs. For this reason, then, Gourgenes wished to go over to the Emperor Justinus, and he asked that he might receive pledges that the Romans would never abandon the Iberians to the Persians. And the emperor gave him these pledges with great eagerness, and he sent Probus, the nephew of the late emperor Anastasius, a man of patrician rank, with a great sum of money to Bosporus, that he might win over with money an army of Huns and send them as allies to the Iberians. This Bosporus is a city by the sea, on the left as one sails into the so-called Euxine Sea, twenty days journey distant from the city of Cherson, which is the limit of the Roman territory. Between these cities everything is held by the Huns. Now in ancient times the people of Bosporus were autonomous, but lately they had decided to become subject to the Emperor Justinus. Probus, however, departed from there without accomplishing his mission, and the emperor sent Peter as general with some Huns to Lazica to fight with all their strength for Gourgenes. Meanwhile Cabades sent a very considerable army against Gourgenes and the Iberians, and as general a Persian bearing the title of "varizes," Boes by name. Then it was seen that Gourgenes was too weak to withstand the attack of the Persians, for the help from the Romans was insufficient, and with all the notables of the Iberians he fled to Lazica, taking with him his wife and children and also his brothers, of whom Peranius was the eldest. And when they had reached the boundaries of Lazica, they remained there, and, sheltering themselves by the roughness of the country, they took their stand against the enemy. And the Persians followed after them but did nothing deserving even of mention since the circumstance of the rough country was against them. Thereafter the Iberians presented themselves at Byzantium and Petrus came to the emperor at his summons; and from then on the emperor demanded that he should assist the Lazi to guard their country, even against their will, and he sent an army and Eirenaeus in command of it. Now there are two fortresses in Lazica[15] which one comes upon immediately upon entering their country from the boundaries of Iberia, and the defence of them had been from of old in charge of the natives, although they experienced great hardship in this matter; for neither corn nor wine nor any other good thing is produced there. Nor indeed can anything be carried in from elsewhere on account of the narrowness of the paths, unless it be carried by men. However, the Lazi were able to live on a certain kind of millet which grows there, since they were accustomed to it. These garrisons the emperor removed from the place and commanded that Roman soldiers should be stationed there to guard the fortresses. And at first the Lazi with difficulty brought in provisions for these soldiers, but later they gave up the service and the Romans abandoned these forts, whereupon the Persians with no trouble took possession of them. This then happened in Lazica. And the Romans, under the leadership of Sittas and Belisarius, made an inroad into Persarmenia, a territory subject to the Persians, where they plundered a large tract of country and then withdrew with a great multitude of Armenian captives. These two men were both youths and wearing their first beards[16], body-guards of the general Justinian, who later shared the empire with his uncle Justinus. But when a second inroad had been made by the Romans into Armenia, Narses and Aratius unexpectedly confronted them and engaged them in battle. These men not long after this came to the Romans as deserters, and made the expedition to Italy with Belisarius; but on the present occasion they joined battle with the forces of Sittas and Belisarius and gained the advantage over them. An invasion was also made near the city of Nisibis by another Roman army under command of Libelarius of Thrace. This army retired abruptly in flight although no one came out against thorn. And because of this the emperor reduced Libelarius from his office and appointed Belisarius commander of the troops in Daras. It was at that time that Procopius, who wrote this history, was chosen as his adviser. [527 A.D.] XIII [Apr. 1, 527] Not long after this Justinus, who had declared his nephew Justinian emperor with him, died, and thus the empire came to Justinian alone. [Aug. 1, 527] This Justinian commanded Belisarius to build a fortress in a place called Mindouos, which is over against the very boundary of Persia, on the left as one goes to Nisibis. He accordingly with great haste began to carry out the decision of the emperor, and the fort was already rising to a considerable height by reason of the great number of artisans. But the Persians forbade them to build any further, threatening that, not with words alone but also with deeds, they would at no distant time obstruct the work. When the emperor heard this, inasmuch as Belisarius was not able to beat off the Persians from the place with the army he had, he ordered another army to go thither, and also Coutzes and Bouzes, who at that time commanded the soldiers in Libanus[17]. These two were brothers from Thrace, both young and inclined to be rash in engaging with the enemy. So both armies were gathered together and came in full force to the scene of the building operations, the Persians in order to hinder the work with all their power, and the Romans to defend the labourers. And a fierce battle took place in which the Romans were defeated, and there was a great slaughter of them, while some also were made captive by the enemy. Among these was Coutzes himself. All these captives the Persians led away to their own country, and, putting them in chains, confined them permanently in a cave; as for the fort, since no one defended it any longer, they razed what had been built to the ground. After this the Emperor Justinian appointed Belisarius General of the East and bade him make an expedition against the Persians. And he collected a very formidable army and came to Daras. Hermogenes also came to him from the emperor to assist in setting the army in order, holding the office of magister; this man was formerly counsellor to Vitalianus at the time when he was at war with the Emperor Anastasius. The emperor also sent Rufinus as ambassador, commanding him to remain in Hierapolis on the Euphrates River until he himself should give the word. For already much was being said on both sides concerning peace. Suddenly, however, someone reported to Belisarius and Hermogenes that the Persians were expected to invade the land of the Romans, being eager to capture the city of Daras. And when they heard this, they prepared for the battle as follows. [July, 530] Not far from the gate which lies opposite the city of Nisibis, about a stone's throw away, they dug a deep trench with many passages across it. Now this trench was not dug in a straight line, but in the following manner. In the middle there was a rather short portion straight, and at either end of this there were dug two cross trenches at right angles to the first; and starting from the extremities of the two cross trenches, they continued two straight trenches in the original direction to a very great distance. Not long afterwards the Persians came with a great army, and all of them made camp in a place called Ammodios, at a distance of twenty stades from the city of Daras. Among the leaders of this army were Pityaxes and the one-eyed Baresmanas. But one general held command over them all, a Persian, whose title was "mirranes" (for thus the Persians designate this office), Perozes by name. This Perozes immediately sent to Belisarius bidding him make ready the bath: for he wished to bathe there on the following day. Accordingly the Romans made the most vigorous preparations for the encounter, with the expectation that they would fight on the succeeding day. At sunrise, seeing the enemy advancing against them, they arrayed themselves as follows[18]. The extremity of the left straight trench which joined the cross trench, as far as the hill which rises here, was held by Bouzes with a large force of horsemen and by Pharas the Erulian with three hundred of his nation. On the right of these, outside the trench, at the angle formed by the cross trench and the straight section which extended from that point, were Sunicas and Aigan, Massagetae by birth, with six hundred horsemen, in order that, if those under Bouzes and Pharas should be driven back, they might, by moving quickly on the flank, and getting in the rear of the enemy, be able easily to support the Romans at that point. On the other wing also they were arrayed in the same manner; for the extremity of the straight trench was held by a large force of horsemen, who were commanded by John, son of Nicetas, and by Cyril and Marcellus; with them also were Germanus and Dorotheus; while at the angle on the right six hundred horsemen took their stand, commanded by Simmas and Ascan, Massagetae, in order that, as has been said, in case the forces of John should by any chance be driven back, they might move out from there and attack the rear of the Persians. Thus all along the trench stood the detachments of cavalry and the infantry. And behind these in the middle stood the forces of Belisarius and Hermogenes. Thus the Romans arrayed themselves, amounting to five-and-twenty thousand; but the Persian army consisted of forty thousand horse and foot, and they all stood close together facing the front, so as to make the front of the phalanx as deep as possible. Then for a long time neither side began battle with the other, but the Persians seemed to be wondering at the good order of the Romans, and appeared at a loss what to do under the circumstances. In the late afternoon a certain detachment of the horsemen who held the right wing, separating themselves from the rest of the army, came against the forces of Bouzes and Pharas. And the Romans retired a short distance to the rear. The Persians, however, did not pursue them, but remained there, fearing, I suppose, some move to surround them on the part of the enemy. Then the Romans who had turned to flight suddenly rushed upon them. And the Persians did not withstand their onset and rode back to the phalanx, and again the forces of Bouzes and Pharas stationed themselves in their own position. In this skirmish seven of the Persians fell, and the Romans gained possession of their bodies; thereafter both armies remained quietly in position. But one Persian, a young man, riding up very close to the Roman army, began to challenge all of them, calling for whoever wished to do battle with him. And no one of the whole army dared face the danger, except a certain Andreas, one of the personal attendants of Bouzes, not a soldier nor one who had ever practised at all the business of war, but a trainer of youths in charge of a certain wrestling school in Byzantium. Through this it came about that he was following the army, for he cared for the person of Bouzes in the bath; his birthplace was Byzantium. This man alone had the courage, without being ordered by Bouzes or anyone else, to go out of his own accord to meet the man in single combat. And he caught the barbarian while still considering how he should deliver his attack, and hit him with his spear on the right breast. And the Persian did not bear the blow delivered by a man of such exceptional strength, and fell from his horse to the earth. Then Andreas with a small knife slew him like a sacrificial animal as he lay on his back, and a mighty shout was raised both from the city wall and from the Roman army. But the Persians were deeply vexed at the outcome and sent forth another horseman for the same purpose, a manly fellow and well favoured as to bodily size, but not a youth, for some of the hair on his head already shewed grey. This horseman came up along the hostile army, and, brandishing vehemently the whip with which he was accustomed to strike his horse, he summoned to battle whoever among the Romans was willing. And when no one went out against him, Andreas, without attracting the notice of anyone, once more came forth, although he had been forbidden to do so by Hermogenes. So both rushed madly upon each other with their spears, and the weapons, driven against their corselets, were turned aside with mighty force, and the horses, striking together their heads, fell themselves and threw off their riders. And both the two men, falling very close to each other, made great haste to rise to their feet, but the Persian was not able to do this easily because his size was against him, while Andreas, anticipating him (for his practice in the wrestling school gave him this advantage), smote him as he was rising on his knee, and as he fell again to the ground dispatched him. Then a roar went up from the wall and from the Roman army as great, if not greater, than before; and the Persians broke their phalanx and withdrew to Ammodios, while the Romans, raising the pæan, went inside the fortifications; for already it was growing dark. Thus both armies passed that night. XIV On the following day ten thousand soldiers arrived who had been summoned by the Persians from the city of Nisibis, and Belisarius and Hermogenes wrote to the mirranes as follows: "The first blessing is peace, as is agreed by all men who have even a small share of reason. It follows that if any one should be a destroyer of it, he would be most responsible not only to those near him but also to his whole nation for the troubles which come. The best general, therefore, is that one who is able to bring about peace from war. But you, when affairs were well settled between the Romans and the Persians, have seen fit to bring upon us a war without cause, although the counsels of each king are looking toward peace, and although our envoys are already present in the neighbourhood, who will at no distant time settle all the points of dispute in talking over the situation together, unless some irreparable harm coming from your invasion proves sufficient to frustrate for us this hope. But lead away as soon as possible your army to the land of the Persians, and do not stand in the way of the greatest blessings, lest at some time you be held responsible by the Persians, as is probable, for the disasters which will come to pass." When the mirranes saw this letter brought to him, he replied as follows: "I should have been persuaded by what you write, and should have done what you demand, were the letter not, as it happens, from Romans, for whom the making of promises is easy, but the fulfilment of the promises in deed most difficult and beyond hope, especially if you sanction the agreement by any oaths. We, therefore, despairing in view of your deception, have been compelled to come before you in arms, and as for you, my dear Romans, consider that from now on you will be obliged to do nothing else than make war against the Persians. For here we shall be compelled either to die or grow old until you accord to us justice in deed." Such was the reply which the mirranes wrote back. And again Belisarius and his generals wrote as follows: "O excellent mirranes, it is not fitting in all things to depend upon boasting, nor to lay upon one's neighbours reproaches which are justified on no grounds whatever. For we said with truth that Rufinus had come to act as an envoy and was not far away, and you yourself will know this at no remote time. But since you are eager for deeds of war, we shall array ourselves against you with the help of God, who will, we know, support us in the danger, being moved by the peaceful inclination of the Romans, but rebuking the boastfulness of the Persians and your decision to resist us when we invite you to peace. And we shall array ourselves against you, having prepared for the conflict by fastening the letters written by each of us on the top of our banners." Such was the message of this letter. And the mirranes again answered as follows: "Neither are we entering upon the war without our gods, and with their help we shall come before you, and I expect that on the morrow they will bring the Persians into Daras. But let the bath and lunch be in readiness for me within the fortifications." When Belisarius and his generals read this, they prepared themselves for the conflict. On the succeeding day the mirranes called together all the Persians at about sunrise and spoke as follows: "I am not ignorant that it is not because of words of their leaders, but because of their individual bravery and their shame before each other that the Persians are accustomed to be courageous in the presence of dangers. But seeing you considering why in the world it is that, although the Romans have not been accustomed heretofore to go into battle without confusion and disorder, they recently awaited the advancing Persians with a kind of order which is by no means characteristic of them, for this reason I have decided to speak some words of exhortation to you, so that it may not come about that you be deceived by reason of holding an opinion which is not true. For I would not have you think that the Romans have suddenly become better warriors, or that they have acquired any more valour or experience, but that they have become more cowardly than they were previously; at any rate they fear the Persians so much that they have not even dared to form their phalanx without a trench. And not even with this did they begin any fighting, but when we did not join battle with them at all, joyfully and considering that matters had gone better for them than they had hoped, they withdrew to the wall. For this reason too it happened that they were not thrown into confusion, for they had not yet come into the dangers of battle. But if the fighting comes to close quarters, fear will seize upon them, and this, together with their inexperience, will throw them, in all probability, into their customary disorder. Such, therefore, is the case with regard to the enemy; but do you, O men of Persia, call to mind the judgment of the King of Kings. For if you do not play the part of brave men in the present engagement, in a manner worthy of the valour of the Persians, an inglorious punishment will fall upon you." With this exhortation the mirranes began to lead his army against the enemy. Likewise Belisarius and Hermogenes gathered all the Romans before the fortifications, and encouraged them with the following words: "You know assuredly that the Persians are not altogether invincible, nor too strong to be killed, having taken their measure in the previous battle; and that, although superior to them in bravery and in strength of body, you were defeated only by reason of being rather heedless of your officers, no one can deny. This thing you now have the opportunity to set right with no trouble. For while the adversities of fortune are by no means such as to be set right by an effort, reason may easily become for a man a physician for the ills caused by himself. If therefore you are willing to give heed to the orders given, you will straightway win for yourselves the superiority in battle. For the Persians come against us basing their confidence on nothing else than our disorder. But this time also they will be disappointed in this hope, and will depart just as in the previous encounter. And as for the great numbers of the enemy, by which more than anything else they inspire fear, it is right for you to despise them. For their whole infantry is nothing more than a crowd of pitiable peasants who come into battle for no other purpose than to dig through walls and to despoil the slain and in general to serve the soldiers. For this reason they have no weapons at all with which they might trouble their opponents, and they only hold before themselves those enormous shields in order that they may not possibly be hit by the enemy. Therefore if you shew yourselves brave men in this struggle, you will not only conquer the Persians for the present, but you will also punish them for their folly, so that they will never again make an expedition into the Roman territory." When Belisarius and Hermogenes had finished this exhortation, since they saw the Persians advancing against them, they hastily drew up the soldiers in the same manner as before. And the barbarians, coming up before them, took their stand facing the Romans. But the mirranes did not array all the Persians against the enemy, but only one half of them, while he allowed the others to remain behind. These were to take the places of the men who were fighting and to fall upon their opponents with their vigour intact, so that all might fight in constant rotation. But the detachment of the so-called Immortals alone he ordered to remain at rest until he himself should give the signal. And he took his own station at the middle of the front, putting Pityaxes in command on the right wing, and Baresmanas on the left. In this manner, then, both armies were drawn up. Then Pharas came before Belisarius and Hermogenes, and said: "It does not seem to me that I shall do the enemy any great harm if I remain here with the Eruli; but if we conceal ourselves on this slope, and then, when the Persians have begun the fight, if we climb up by this hill and suddenly come upon their rear, shooting from behind them, we shall in all probability do them the greatest harm." Thus he spoke, and, since it pleased Belisarius and his staff, he carried out this plan. But up to midday neither side began battle. As soon, however, as the noon hour was passed, the barbarians began the fight, having postponed the engagement to this time of the day for the reason that they are accustomed to partake of food only towards late afternoon, while the Romans have their meal before noon; and for this reason they thought that the Romans would never hold out so well, if they assailed them while hungry. At first, then, both sides discharged arrows against each other, and the missiles by their great number made, as it were, a vast cloud; and many men were falling on both sides, but the missiles of the barbarians flew much more thickly. For fresh men were always fighting in turn, affording to their enemy not the slightest opportunity to observe what was being done; but even so the Romans did not have the worst of it. For a steady wind blew from their side against the barbarians, and checked to a considerable degree the force of their arrows. Then, after both sides had exhausted all their missiles, they began to use their spears against each other, and the battle had come still more to close quarters. On the Roman side the left wing was suffering especially. For the Cadiseni, who with Pityaxes were fighting at this point, rushing up suddenly in great numbers, routed their enemy, and crowding hard upon the fugitives, were killing many of them. When this was observed by the men under Sunicas and Aigan, they charged against them at full speed. But first the three hundred Eruli under Pharas from the high ground got in the rear of the enemy and made a wonderful display of valorous deeds against all of them and especially the Cadiseni. And the Persians, seeing the forces of Sunicas too already coming up against them from the flank, turned to a hasty flight. And the rout became complete, for the Romans here joined forces with each other, and there was a great slaughter of the barbarians. On the Persian right wing not fewer than three thousand perished in this action, while the rest escaped with difficulty to the phalanx and were saved. And the Romans did not continue their pursuit, but both sides took their stand facing each other in line. Such was the course of these events. But the mirranes stealthily sent to the left a large body of troops and with them all the so-called Immortals. And when these were noticed by Belisarius and Hermogenes, they ordered the six hundred men under Sunicas and Aigan to go to the angle on the right, where the troops of Simmas and Ascan were stationed, and behind them they placed many of Belisarius men. So the Persians who held the left wing under the leadership of Baresmanas, together with the Immortals, charged on the run upon the Romans opposite them, who failed to withstand the attack and beat a hasty retreat. Thereupon the Romans in the angle, and all who were behind them, advanced with great ardour against the pursuers. But inasmuch as they came upon the barbarians from the side, they cut their army into two parts, and the greater portion of them they had on their right, while some also who were left behind were placed on their left. Among these happened to be the standard bearer of Baresmanas, whom Sunicas charged and struck with his spear. And already the Persians who were leading the pursuit perceived in what straits they were, and, wheeling about, they stopped the pursuit and went against their assailants, and thus became exposed to the enemy on both sides. For those in flight before them understood what was happening and turned back again. The Persians, on their part, with the detachment of the Immortals, seeing the standard inclined and lowered to the earth, rushed all together against the Romans at that point with Baresmanas. There the Romans held their ground. And first Sunicas killed Baresmanas and threw him from his horse to the ground. As a result of this the barbarians were seized with great fear and thought no longer of resistance, but fled in utter confusion. And the Romans, having made a circle as it were around them, killed about five thousand. Thus both armies were all set in motion, the Persians in retreat, and the Romans in pursuit. In this part of the conflict all the foot-soldiers who were in the Persian army threw down their shields and were caught and wantonly killed by their enemy. However, the pursuit was not continued by the Romans over a great distance. For Belisarius and Hermogenes refused absolutely to let them go farther, fearing lest the Persians through some necessity should turn about and rout them while pursuing recklessly, and it seemed to them sufficient to preserve the victory unmarred. For on that day the Persians had been defeated in battle by the Romans, a thing which had not happened for a long time. Thus the two armies separated from each other. And the Persians were no longer willing to fight a pitched battle with the Romans. However, some sudden attacks were made on both sides, in which the Romans were not at a disadvantage. Such, then, was the fortune of the armies in Mesopotamia. XV And Cabades sent another army into the part of Armenia which is subject to the Romans. This army was composed of Persarmenians and Sunitae, whose land adjoins that of the Alani. There were also Huns with them, of the stock called Sabiri, to the number of three thousand, a most warlike race. And Mermeroes, a Persian, had been made general of the whole force. When this army was three days' march from Theodosiopolis, they established their camp and, remaining in the land of the Persarmenians, made their preparations for the invasion. Now the general of Armenia was, as it happened, Dorotheus, a man of discretion and experienced in many wars. And Sittas held the office of general in Byzantium, and had authority over the whole army in Armenia. These two, then, upon learning that an army was being assembled in Persarmenia, straightway sent two body-guards with instructions to spy out the whole force of the enemy and report to them. And both of these men got into the barbarian camp, and after noting everything accurately, they departed. And they were travelling toward some place in that region, when they happened unexpectedly upon hostile Huns. By them one of the two, Dagaris by name, was made captive and bound, while the other succeeded in escaping and reported everything to the generals. They then armed their whole force and made an unexpected assault upon the camp of their enemy; and the barbarians, panic-stricken by the unexpected attack, never thought of resistance, but fled as best each one could. Thereupon the Romans, after killing a large number and plundering the camp, immediately marched back. Not long after this Mermeroes, having collected the whole army, invaded the Roman territory, and they came upon their enemy near the city of Satala. There they established themselves in camp and remained at rest in a place called Octava, which is fifty-six stades distant from the city. Sittas therefore led out a thousand men and concealed them behind one of the many hills which surround the plain in which the city of Satala lies. Dorotheus with the rest of the army he ordered to stay inside the fortifications, because they thought that they were by no means able to withstand the enemy on level ground, since their number was not fewer than thirty thousand, while their own forces scarcely amounted to half that number. On the following day the barbarians came up close to the fortifications and busily set about closing in the town. But suddenly, seeing the forces of Sittas who by now were coming down upon them from the high ground, and having no means of estimating their number, since owing to the summer season a great cloud of dust hung over them, they thought they were much more numerous than they were, and, hurriedly abandoning their plan of closing in the town, they hastened to mass their force into a small space. But the Romans anticipated the movement and, separating their own force into two detachments, they set upon them as they were retiring from the fortifications; and when this was seen by the whole Roman army, they took courage, and with a great rush they poured out from the fortifications and advanced against their opponents. They thus put the Persians between their own troops, and turned them to flight. However, since the barbarians were greatly superior to their enemy in numbers, as has been said, they still offered resistance, and the battle had become a fierce fight at close quarters. And both sides kept making advances upon their opponents and retiring quickly, for they were all cavalry. Thereupon Florentius, a Thracian, commanding a detachment of horse, charged into the enemy's centre, and seizing the general's standard, forced it to the ground, and started to ride back. And though he himself was overtaken and fell there, hacked to pieces, he proved to be the chief cause of the victory for the Romans. For when the barbarians no longer saw the standard, they were thrown into great confusion and terror, and retreating, got inside their camp, and remained quiet, having lost many men in the battle; and on the following day they all returned homeward with no one following them up, for it seemed to the Romans a great and very noteworthy thing that such a great multitude of barbarians in their own country had suffered those things which have just been narrated above, and that, after making an invasion into hostile territory, they should retire thus without accomplishing anything and defeated by a smaller force. At that time the Romans also acquired certain Persian strongholds in Persarmenia, both the fortress of Bolum and the fortress called Pharangium, which is the place where the Persians mine gold, which they take to the king. It happened also that a short time before this they had reduced to subjection the Tzanic nation, who had been settled from of old in Roman territory as an autonomous people; and as to these things, the manner in which they were accomplished will be related here and now. As one goes from the land of Armenia into Persarmenia the Taurus lies on the right, extending into Iberia and the peoples there, as has been said a little before this[19], while on the left the road which continues to descend for a great distance is overhung by exceedingly precipitous mountains, concealed forever by clouds and snow, from which the Phasis River issues and flows into the land of Colchis. In this place from the beginning lived barbarians, the Tzanic nation, subject to no one, called Sani in early times; they made plundering expeditions among the Romans who lived round about, maintaining a most difficult existence, and always living upon what they stole; for their land produced for them nothing good to eat. Wherefore also the Roman emperor sent them each year a fixed amount of gold, with the condition that they should never plunder the country thereabout. And the barbarians had sworn to observe this agreement with the oaths peculiar to their nation, and then, disregarding what they had sworn, they had been accustomed for a long time to make unexpected attacks and to injure not only the Armenians, but also the Romans who lived next to them as far as the sea; then, after completing their inroad in a short space of time, they would immediately betake themselves again to their homes. And whenever it _so_ happened that they chanced upon a Roman army, they were always defeated in the battle, but they proved to be absolutely beyond capture owing to the strength of their fastnesses. In this way Sittas had defeated them in battle before this war; and then by many manifestations of kindness in word and in deed he had been able to win them over completely. For they changed their manner of life to one of a more civilized sort, and enrolled themselves among the Roman troops, and from that time they have gone forth against the enemy with the rest of the Roman army. They also abandoned their own religion for a more righteous faith, and all of them became Christians. Such then was the history of the Tzani. Beyond the borders of this people there is a cañon whose walls are both high and exceedingly steep, extending as far as the Caucasus mountains. In it are populous towns, and grapes and other fruits grow plentifully. And this canon for about the space of a three days' journey is tributary to the Romans, but from there begins the territory of Persarmenia; and here is the gold-mine which, with the permission of Cabades, was worked by one of the natives, Symeon by name. When this Symeon saw that both nations were actively engaged in the war, he decided to deprive Cabades of the revenue. Therefore he gave over both himself and Pharangium to the Romans, but refused to deliver over to either one the gold of the mine. And as for the Romans, they did nothing, thinking it sufficient for them that the enemy had lost the income from there, and the Persians were not able against the will of the Romans to force the inhabitants of the place to terms, because they were baffled by the difficult country. At about the same time Narses and Aratius who at the beginning of this war, as I have stated above,[20] had an encounter with Sittas and Belisarius in the land of the Persarmenians, came together with their mother as deserters to the Romans; and the emperor's steward, Narses, received them (for he too happened to be a Persarmenian by birth), and he presented them with a large sum of money. When this came to the knowledge of Isaac, their youngest brother, he secretly opened negotiations with the Romans, and delivered over to them the fortress of Bolum, which lies very near the limits of Theodosiopolis. For he directed that soldiers should be concealed somewhere in the vicinity, and he received them into the fort by night, opening stealthily one small gate for them. Thus he too came to Byzantium. XVI Thus matters stood with the Romans. But the Persians, though defeated by Belisarius in the battle at Daras, refused even so to retire from there, until Rufinus, coming into the presence of Cabades, spoke as follows: "O King, I have been sent by thy brother, who reproaches thee with a just reproach, because the Persians for no righteous cause have come in arms into his land. But it would be more seemly for a king who is not only mighty, but also wise as thou art, to secure a peaceful conclusion of war, rather than, when affairs have been satisfactorily settled, to inflict upon himself and his people unnecessary confusion. Wherefore also I myself have come here with good hopes, in order that from now on both peoples may enjoy the blessings which come from peace." So spoke Rufinus. And Cabades replied as follows: "O son of Silvanus, by no means try to reverse the causes, understanding as you do best of all men that you Romans have been the chief cause of the whole confusion. For we have taken the Caspian Gates to the advantage of both Persians and Romans, after forcing out the barbarians there, since Anastasius, the Emperor of the Romans, as you yourself doubtless know, when the opportunity was offered him to buy them with money, was not willing to do so, in order that he might not be compelled to squander great sums of money in behalf of both nations by keeping an army there perpetually. And since that time we have stationed that great army there, and have supported it up to the present time, thereby giving you the privilege of inhabiting the land unplundered as far as concerns the barbarians on that side, and of holding your own possessions with complete freedom from trouble. But as if this were not sufficient for you, you have also made a great city, Daras, as a stronghold against the Persians, although this was explicitly forbidden in the treaty which Anatolius arranged with the Persians; and as a result of this it is necessary for the Persian state to be afflicted with the difficulties and the expense of two armies, the one in order that the Massagetae may not be able fearlessly to plunder the land of both of us, and the other in order that we may check your inroads. When lately we made a protest regarding these matters and demanded that one of two things should be done by you, either that the army sent to the Caspian Gates should be sent by both of us, or that the city of Daras should be dismantled, you refused to understand what was said, but saw fit to strengthen your plot against the Persians by a greater injury, if we remember correctly the building of the fort in Mindouos[21]. And even now the Romans may choose peace, or they may elect war, by either doing justice to us or going against our rights. For never will the Persians lay down their arms, until the Romans either help them in guarding the gates, as is just and right, or dismantle the city of Daras." With these words Cabades dismissed the ambassador, dropping the hint that he was willing to take money from the Romans and have done with the causes of the war. This was reported to the emperor by Rufinus when he came to Byzantium. [531 A.D.] Hermogenes also came thither not long afterwards, and the winter came to a close; thus ended the fourth year of the reign of the Emperor Justinian. XVII At the opening of spring a Persian army under the leadership of Azarethes invaded the Roman territory. They were fifteen thousand strong, all horsemen. With them was Alamoundaras, son of Saccice, with a very large body of Saracens. But this invasion was not made by the Persians in the customary manner; for they did not invade Mesopotamia, as formerly, but the country called Commagene of old, but now Euphratesia, a point from which, as far as we know, the Persians never before conducted a campaign against the Romans. But why the land was called Mesopotamia and why the Persians refrained from making their attack at this point is what I now propose to relate. There is a mountain in Armenia which is not especially precipitous, two-and-forty stades removed from Theodosiopolis and lying toward the north from it. From this mountain issue two springs, forming immediately two rivers, the one on the right called the Euphrates, and the other the Tigris. One of these, the Tigris, descends, with no deviations and with no tributaries except small ones emptying into it, straight toward the city of Amida. And continuing into the country which lies to the north of this city it enters the land of Assyria. But the Euphrates at its beginning flows for a short distance, and is then immediately lost to sight as it goes on; it does not, however, become subterranean, but a very strange thing happens. For the water is covered by a bog of great depth, extending about fifty stades in length and twenty in breadth; and reeds grow in this mud in great abundance. But the earth there is of such a hard sort that it seems to those who chance upon it to be nothing else than solid ground, so that both pedestrians and horsemen travel over it without any fear. Nay more, even wagons pass over the place in great numbers every day, but they are wholly insufficient to shake the bog or to find a weak spot in it at any point. The natives burn the reeds every year, to prevent the roads being stopped up by them, and once, when an exceedingly violent wind struck the place, it came about that the fire reached the extremities of the roots, and the water appeared at a small opening; but in a short time the ground closed again, and gave the spot the same appearance which it had had before. From there the river proceeds into the land called Celesene, where was the sanctuary of Artemis among the Taurians, from which they say Iphigenia, daughter of Agamemnon, fled with Orestes and Pylades, bearing the statue of Artemis. For the other temple which has existed even to my day in the city of Comana is not the one "Among the Taurians." But I shall explain how this temple came into being. When Orestes had departed in haste from the Taurians with his sister, it so happened that he contracted some disease. And when he made inquiry about the disease they say that the oracle responded that his trouble would not abate until he built a temple to Artemis in a spot such as the one among the Taurians, and there cut off his hair and named the city after it. So then Orestes, going about the country there, came to Pontus, and saw a mountain which rose steep and towering, while below along the extremities of the mountain flowed the river Iris. Orestes, therefore, supposing at that time that this was the place indicated to him by the oracle, built there a great city and the temple of Artemis, and, shearing off his hair, named after it the city which even up to the present time has been called Comana. The story goes on that after Orestes had done these things, the disease continued to be as violent as before, if not even more so. Then the man perceived that he was not satisfying the oracle by doing these things, and he again went about looking everywhere and found a certain spot in Cappadocia very closely resembling the one among the Taurians. I myself have often seen this place and admired it exceedingly, and have imagined that I was in the land of the Taurians. For this mountain resembles the other remarkably, since the Taurus is here also and the river Sarus is similar to the Euphrates there. So Orestes built in that place an imposing city and two temples, the one to Artemis and the other to his sister Iphigenia, which the Christians have made sanctuaries for themselves, without changing their structure at all. This is called even now Golden Comana, being named from the hair of Orestes, which they say he cut off there and thus escaped from his affliction. But some say that this disease from which he escaped was nothing else than that of madness which seized him after he had killed his own mother. But I shall return to the previous narrative. From Tauric Armenia and the land of Celesene the River Euphrates, flowing to the right of the Tigris, flows around an extensive territory, and since many rivers join it and among them the Arsinus, whose copious stream flows down from the land of the so-called Persarmenians, it becomes naturally a great river, and flows into the land of the people anciently called White Syrians but now known as the Lesser Armenians, whose first city, Melitene, is one of great importance. From there it flows past Samosata and Hierapolis and all the towns in that region as far as the land of Assyria, where the two rivers unite with each other into one stream which bears the name of the Tigris. The land which lies outside the River Euphrates, beginning with Samosata, was called in ancient times Commagene, but now it is named after the river[22]. But the land inside the river, that namely which is between it and the Tigris, is appropriately named Mesopotamia; however, a portion of it is called not only by this name, but also by certain others. For the land as far as the city of Amida has come to be called Armenia by some, while Edessa together with the country around it is called Osroene, after Osroes, a man who was king in that place in former times, when the men of this country were in alliance with the Persians. After the time, therefore, when the Persians had taken from the Romans the city of Nisibis and certain other places in Mesopotamia, whenever they were about to make an expedition against the Romans, they disregarded the land outside the River Euphrates, which was for the most part unwatered and deserted by men, and gathered themselves here with no trouble, since they were in a land which was their own and which lay very close to the inhabited land of their enemy, and from here they always made their invasions. When the mirranes[23], defeated in battle[24] and with the greater part of his men lost, came back to the Persian land with the remainder of his army, he received bitter punishment at the hands of King Cabades. For he took away from him a decoration which he was accustomed to bind upon the hair of his head, an ornament wrought of gold and pearls. Now this is a great dignity among the Persians, second only to the kingly honour. For there it is unlawful to wear a gold ring or girdle or brooch or anything else whatsoever, except a man be counted worthy to do so by the king. Thereafter Cabades began to consider in what manner he himself should make an expedition against the Romans. For after the mirranes had failed in the manner I have told, he felt confidence in no one else. While he was completely at a loss as to what he should do, Alamoundaras, the king of the Saracens, came before him and said: "Not everything, O Master, should be entrusted to fortune, nor should one believe that all wars ought to be successful. For this is not likely and besides it is not in keeping with the course of human events, but this idea is most unfortunate for those who are possessed by it. For when men who expect that all the good things will come to them fail at any time, if it so happen, they are distressed more than is seemly by the very hope which wrongly led them on. Therefore, since men have not always confidence in fortune, they do not enter into the danger of war in a straightforward way, even if they boast that they surpass the enemy in every respect, but by deception and divers devices they exert themselves to circumvent their opponents. For those who assume the risk of an even struggle have no assurance of victory. Now, therefore, O King of Kings, neither be thus distressed by the misfortune which has befallen Mirranes, nor desire again to make trial of fortune. For in Mesopotamia and the land of Osroene, as it is called, since it is very close to thy boundaries, the cities are very strong above all others, and now they contain a multitude of soldiers such as never before, so that if we go there the contest will not prove a safe one; but in the land which lies outside the River Euphrates, and in Syria which adjoins it, there is neither a fortified city nor an army of any importance. For this I have often heard from the Saracens sent as spies to these parts. There too, they say, is the city of Antioch, in wealth and size and population the first of all the cities of the Eastern Roman Empire; and this city is unguarded and destitute of soldiers. For the people of this city care for nothing else than fêtes and luxurious living, and their constant rivalries with each other in the theatres. Accordingly, if we go against them unexpectedly, it is not at all unlikely that we shall capture the city by a sudden attack, and that we shall return to the land of the Persians without having met any hostile army, and before the troops in Mesopotamia have learned what has happened. As for lack of water or of any kind of provisions, let no such thought occur to thee; for I myself shall lead the army wherever it shall seem best." When Cabades heard this he could neither oppose nor distrust the plan. For Alamoundaras was most discreet and well experienced in matters of warfare, thoroughly faithful to the Persians, and unusually energetic,--a man who for a space of fifty years forced the Roman state to bend the knee. For beginning from the boundaries of Aegypt and as far as Mesopotamia he plundered the whole country, pillaging one place after another, burning the buildings in his track and making captives of the population by the tens of thousands on each raid, most of whom he killed without consideration, while he gave up the others for great sums of money. And he was confronted by no one at all. For he never made his inroad without looking about, but so suddenly did he move and so very opportunely for himself, that, as a rule, he was already off with all the plunder when the generals and the soldiers were beginning to learn what had happened and to gather themselves against him. If, indeed, by any chance, they were able to catch him, this barbarian would fall upon his pursuers while still unprepared and not in battle array, and would rout and destroy them with no trouble; and on one occasion he made prisoners of all the soldiers who were pursuing him together with their officers. These officers were Timostratus, the brother of Rufinus, and John, the son of Lucas, whom he gave up indeed later, thereby gaining for himself no mean or trivial wealth. And, in a word, this man proved himself the most difficult and dangerous enemy of all to the Romans. The reason was this, that Alamoundaras, holding the position of king, ruled alone over all the Saracens in Persia, and he was always able to make his inroad with the whole army wherever he wished in the Roman domain; and neither any commander of Roman troops, whom they call "duces," nor any leader of the Saracens allied with the Romans, who are called "phylarchs," was strong enough with his men to array himself against Alamoundaras; for the troops stationed in the different districts were not a match in battle for the enemy. [531 A.D.] For this reason the Emperor Justinian put in command of as many clans as possible Arethas, the son of Gabalas, who ruled over the Saracens of Arabia, and bestowed upon him the dignity of king, a thing which among the Romans had never before been done. However Alamoundaras continued to injure the Romans just as much as before, if not more, since Arethas was either extremely unfortunate in every inroad and every conflict, or else he turned traitor as quickly as he could. For as yet we know nothing certain about him. In this way it came about that Alamoundaras, with no one to stand against him, plundered the whole East for an exceedingly long time, for he lived to a very advanced age. XVIII This man's suggestion at that time therefore pleased Cabades, and he chose out fifteen thousand men, putting in command of them Azarethes, a Persian, who was an exceptionally able warrior, and he bade Alamoundaras lead the expedition. So they crossed the River Euphrates in Assyria, and, after passing over some uninhabited country, they suddenly and unexpectedly threw their forces into the land of the so-called Commagenae. This was the first invasion made by the Persians from this point into Roman soil, as far as we know from tradition or by any other means, and it paralyzed all the Romans with fear by its unexpectedness. And when this news came to the knowledge of Belisarius, at first he was at a loss, but afterwards he decided to go to the rescue with all speed. So he established a sufficient garrison in each city in order that Cabades with another hostile army might not come there and find the towns of Mesopotamia utterly unguarded, and himself with the rest of the army went to meet the invasion; and crossing the River Euphrates they moved forward in great haste. Now the Roman army amounted to about twenty thousand foot and horse, and among them not less than two thousand were Isaurians. The commanders of cavalry were all the same ones who had previously fought the battle at Daras with Mirranes and the Persians, while the infantry were commanded by one of the body-guards of the Emperor Justinian, Peter by name. The Isaurians, however, were under the command of Longinus and Stephanacius. Arethas also came there to join them with the Saracen army. When they reached the city of Chalcis, they encamped and remained there, since they learned that the enemy were in a place called Gabboulon, one hundred and ten stades away from Chalcis. When this became known to Alamoundaras and Azarethes, they were terrified at the danger, and no longer continued their advance, but decided to retire homeward instantly. Accordingly they began to march back, with the River Euphrates on the left, while the Roman army was following in the rear. And in the spot where the Persians bivouacked each night the Romans always tarried on the following night. For Belisarius purposely refused to allow the army to make any longer march because he did not wish to come to an engagement with the enemy, but he considered that it was sufficient for them that the Persians and Alamoundaras, after invading the land of the Romans, should retire from it in such a fashion, betaking themselves to their own land without accomplishing anything. And because of this all secretly mocked him, both officers and soldiers, but not a man reproached him to his face. Finally the Persians made their bivouac on the bank of the Euphrates just opposite the city of Callinicus. From there they were about to march through a country absolutely uninhabited by man, and thus to quit the land of the Romans; for they purposed no longer to proceed as before, keeping to the bank of the river. The Romans had passed the night in the city of Sura, and, removing from there, they came upon the enemy just in the act of preparing for the departure. [Ap. 19, 531] Now the feast of Easter was near and would take place on the following day; this feast is reverenced by the Christians above all others, and on the day before it they are accustomed to refrain from food and drink not only throughout the day, but for a large part of the night also they continue the fast. Then, therefore, Belisarius, seeing that all his men were passionately eager to go against the enemy, wished to persuade them to give up this idea (for this course had been counselled by Hermogenes also, who had come recently on an embassy from the emperor); he accordingly called together all who were present and spoke as follows: "O Romans, whither are you rushing? and what has happened to you that you are purposing to choose for yourselves a danger which is not necessary? Men believe that there is only one victory which is unalloyed, namely to suffer no harm at the hands of the enemy, and this very thing has been given us in the present instance by fortune and by the fear of us that overpowers our foes. Therefore it is better to enjoy the benefit of our present blessings than to seek them when they have passed. For the Persians, led on by many hopes, undertook an expedition against the Romans, and now, with everything lost, they have beaten a hasty retreat. So that if we compel them against their will to abandon their purpose of withdrawing and to come to battle with us, we shall win no advantage whatsoever if we are victorious,--for why should one rout a fugitive?--while if we are unfortunate, as may happen, we shall both be deprived of the victory which we now have, not robbed of it by the enemy, but flinging it away ourselves, and also we shall abandon the land of the emperor to lie open hereafter to the attacks of the enemy without defenders. Moreover this also is worth your consideration, that God is always accustomed to succour men in dangers which are necessary, not in those which they choose for themselves. And apart from this it will come about that those who have nowhere to turn will play the part of brave men even against their will, while the obstacles which are to be met by us in entering the engagement are many; for a large number of you have come on foot and all of us are fasting. I refrain from mentioning that some even now have not arrived." So spoke Belisarius. But the army began to insult him, not in silence nor with any concealment, but they came shouting into his presence, and called him weak and a destroyer of their zeal; and even some of the officers joined with the soldiers in this offence, thus displaying the extent of their daring. And Belisarius, in astonishment at their shamelessness, changed his exhortation and now seemed to be urging them on against the enemy and drawing them up for battle, saying that he had not known before their eagerness to fight, but that now he was of good courage and would go against the enemy with a better hope. He then formed the phalanx with a single front, disposing his men as follows: on the left wing by the river he stationed all the infantry, while on the right where the ground rose sharply he placed Arethas and all his Saracens; he himself with the cavalry took his position in the centre. Thus the Romans arrayed themselves. And when Azarethes saw the enemy gathering in battle line, he exhorted his men with the following words: "Persians as you are, no one would deny that you would not give up your valour in exchange for life, if a choice of the two should be offered. But I say that not even if you should wish, is it within your power to make the choice between the two. For as for men who have the opportunity to escape from danger and live in dishonour it is not at all unnatural that they should, if they wish, choose what is most pleasant instead of what is best; but for men who are bound to die, either gloriously at the hands of the enemy or shamefully led to punishment by your Master, it is extreme folly not to choose what is better instead of what is most shameful. Now, therefore, when things stand thus, I consider that it befits you all to bear in mind not only the enemy but also your own Lord and so enter this battle." After Azarethes also had uttered these words of exhortation, he stationed the phalanx opposite his opponents, assigning the Persians the right wing and the Saracens the left. Straightway both sides began the fight, and the battle was exceedingly fierce. For the arrows, shot from either side in very great numbers, caused great loss of life in both armies, while some placed themselves in the interval between the armies and made a display of valorous deeds against each other, and especially among the Persians they were falling by the arrows in great numbers. For while their missiles were incomparably more frequent, since the Persians are almost all bowmen and they learn to make their shots much more rapidly than any other men, still the bows which sent the arrows were weak and not very tightly strung, so that their missiles, hitting a corselet, perhaps, or helmet or shield of a Roman warrior, were broken off and had no power to hurt the man who was hit. The Roman bowmen are always slower indeed, but inasmuch as their bows are extremely stiff and very tightly strung, and one might add that they are handled by stronger men, they easily slay much greater numbers of those they hit than do the Persians, for no armour proves an obstacle to the force of their arrows. Now already two-thirds of the day had passed, and the battle was still even. Then by mutual agreement all the best of the Persian army advanced to attack the Roman right wing, where Arethas and the Saracens had been stationed. But they broke their formation and moved apart, so that they got the reputation of having betrayed the Romans to the Persians. For without awaiting the oncoming enemy they all straightway beat a hasty retreat. So the Persians in this way broke through the enemy's line and immediately got in the rear of the Roman cavalry. Thus the Romans, who were already exhausted both by the march and the labour of the battle,--and besides this they were all fasting so far on in the day,--now that they were assailed by the enemy on both sides, held out no longer, but the most of them in full flight made their way to the islands in the river which were close by, while some also remained there and performed deeds both amazing and remarkable against the enemy. Among these was Ascan who, after killing many of the notables among the Persians, was gradually hacked to pieces and finally fell, leaving to the enemy abundant reason to remember him. And with him eight hundred others perished after shewing themselves brave men in this struggle, and almost all the Isaurians fell with their leaders, without even daring to lift their weapons against the enemy. For they were thoroughly inexperienced in this business, since they had recently left off farming and entered into the perils of warfare, which before that time were unknown to them. And yet just before these very men had been most furious of all for battle because of their ignorance of warfare, and were then reproaching Belisarius with cowardice. They were not in fact all Isaurians but the majority of them were Lycaones. Belisarius with some few men remained there, and as long as he saw Ascan and his men holding out, he also in company with those who were with him held back the enemy; but when some of Ascan's troops had fallen, and the others had turned to flee wherever they could, then at length he too fled with his men and came to the phalanx of infantry, who with Peter were still fighting, although not many in number now, since the most of them too had fled. There he himself gave up his horse and commanded all his men to do the same thing and on foot with the others to fight off the oncoming enemy. And those of the Persians who were following the fugitives, after pursuing for only a short distance, straightway returned and rushed upon the infantry and Belisarius with all the others. Then the Romans turned their backs to the river so that no movement to surround them might be executed by the enemy, and as best they could under the circumstances were defending themselves against their assailants. And again the battle became fierce, although the two sides were not evenly matched in strength; for foot-soldiers, and a very few of them, were fighting against the whole Persian cavalry. Nevertheless the enemy were not able either to rout them or in any other way to overpower them. For standing shoulder to shoulder they kept themselves constantly massed in a small space, and they formed with their shields a rigid, unyielding barricade, so that they shot at the Persians more conveniently than they were shot at by them. Many a time after giving up, the Persians would advance against them determined to break up and destroy their line, but they always retired again from the assault unsuccessful. For their horses, annoyed by the clashing of the shields, reared up and made confusion for themselves and their riders. Thus both sides continued the struggle until it had become late in the day. And when night had already come on, the Persians withdrew to their camp, and Belisarius accompanied by some few men found a freight-boat and crossed over to the island in the river, while the other Romans reached the same place by swimming. On the following day many freight-boats were brought to the Romans from the city of Callinicus and they were conveyed thither in them, and the Persians, after despoiling the dead, all departed homeward. However they did not find their own dead less numerous than the enemy's. When Azarethes reached Persia with his army, although he had prospered in the battle, he found Cabades exceedingly ungrateful, for the following reason. It is a custom among the Persians that, when they are about to march against any of their foes, the king sits on the royal throne, and many baskets are set there before him; and the general also is present who is expected to lead the army against the enemy; then the army passes along before the king, one man at a time, and each of them throws one weapon into the baskets; after this they are sealed with the king's seal and preserved; and when this army returns to Persia, each one of the soldiers takes one weapon out of the baskets. A count is then made by those whose office it is to do so of all the weapons which have not been taken by the men, and they report to the king the number of the soldiers who have not returned, and in this way it becomes evident how many have perished in the war. Thus the law has stood from of old among the Persians. Now when Azarethes came into the presence of the king, Cabades enquired of him whether he came back with any Roman fortress won over to their side, for he had marched forth with Alamoundaras against the Romans, with the purpose of subduing Antioch. And Azarethes said that he had captured no fortress, but that he had conquered the Romans and Belisarius in battle. So Cabades bade the army of Azarethes pass by, and from the baskets each man took out a weapon just as was customary. But since many weapons were left, Cabades rebuked Azarethes for the victory and thereafter ranked him among the most unworthy. So the victory had this conclusion for Azarethes. XIX At that time the idea occurred to the Emperor Justinian to ally with himself the Aethiopians and the Homeritae, in order to injure the Persians. I shall now first explain what part of the earth these nations occupy, and then I shall point out in what manner the emperor hoped that they would be of help to the Romans. The boundaries of Palestine extend toward the east to the sea which is called the Red Sea. Now this sea, beginning at India, comes to an end at this point in the Roman domain. And there is a city called Aelas on its shore, where the sea comes to an end, as I have said, and becomes a very narrow gulf. And as one sails into the sea from there, the Egyptian mountains lie on the right, extending toward the south; on the other side a country deserted by men extends northward to an indefinite distance; and the land on both sides is visible as one sails in as far as the island called Iotabe, not less than one thousand stades distant from the city of Aelas. On this island Hebrews had lived from of old in autonomy, but in the reign of this Justinian they have become subject to the Romans. From there on there comes a great open sea. And those who sail into this part of it no longer see the land on the right, but they always anchor along the left coast when night comes on. For it is impossible to navigate in the darkness on this sea, since it is everywhere full of shoals. But there are harbours there and great numbers of them, not made by the hand of man, but by the natural contour of the land, and for this reason it is not difficult for mariners to find anchorage wherever they happen to be. This coast[25] immediately beyond the boundaries of Palestine is held by Saracens, who have been settled from of old in the Palm Groves. These groves are in the interior, extending over a great tract of land, and there absolutely nothing else grows except palm trees. The Emperor Justinian had received these palm groves as a present from Abochorabus, the ruler of the Saracens there, and he was appointed by the emperor captain over the Saracens in Palestine. And he guarded the land from plunder constantly, for both to the barbarians over whom he ruled and no less to the enemy, Abochorabus always seemed a man to be feared and an exceptionally energetic fellow. Formally, therefore, the emperor holds the Palm Groves, but for him really to possess himself of any of the country there is utterly impossible. For a land completely destitute of human habitation and extremely dry lies between, extending to the distance of a ten days' journey; moreover the Palm Groves themselves are by no means worth anything, and Abochorabus only gave the form of a gift, and the emperor accepted it with full knowledge of the fact. So much then for the Palm Groves. Adjoining this people there are other Saracens in possession of the coast, who are called Maddeni and who are subjects of the Homeritae. These Homeritae dwell in the land on the farther side of them on the shore of the sea. And beyond them many other nations are said to be settled as far as the man-eating Saracens. Beyond these are the nations of India. But regarding these matters let each one speak as he may wish. About opposite the Homeritae on the opposite mainland dwell the Aethiopians who are called Auxomitae, because their king resides in the city of Auxomis. And the expanse of sea which lies between is crossed in a voyage of five days and nights, when a moderately favouring wind blows. For here they are accustomed to navigate by night also, since there are no shoals at all in these parts; this portion of the sea has been called the Red Sea by some. For the sea which one traverses beyond this point as far as the shore and the city of Aelas has received the name of the Arabian Gulf, inasmuch as the country which extends from here to the limits of the city of Gaza used to be called in olden times Arabia, since the king of the Arabs had his palace in early times in the city of Petrae. Now the harbour of the Homeritae from which they are accustomed to put to sea for the voyage to Aethiopia is called Bulicas; and at the end of the sail across the sea they always put in at the harbour of the Adulitae. But the city of Adulis is removed from the harbour a distance of twenty stades (for it lacks only so much of being on the sea), while from the city of Auxomis it is a journey of twelve days. All the boats which are found in India and on this sea are not made in the same manner as are other ships. For neither are they smeared with pitch, nor with any other substance, nor indeed are the planks fastened together by iron nails going through and through, but they are bound together with a kind of cording. The reason is not as most persons suppose, that there are certain rocks there which draw the iron to themselves (for witness the fact that when the Roman vessels sail from Aelas into this sea, although they are fitted with much iron, no such thing has ever happened to them), but rather because the Indians and the Aethiopians possess neither iron nor any other thing suitable for such purposes. Furthermore, they are not even able to buy any of these things from the Romans since this is explicitly forbidden to all by law; for death is the punishment for one who is caught. Such then is the description of the so-called Red Sea[26] and of the land which lies on either side of it. From the city of Auxomis to the Aegyptian boundaries of the Roman domain, where the city called Elephantine is situated, is a journey of thirty days for an unencumbered traveller. Within that space many nations are settled, and among them the Blemyes and the Nobatae, who are very large nations. But the Blemyes dwell in the central portion of the country, while the Nobatae possess the territory about the River Nile. Formerly this was not the limit of the Roman empire, but it lay beyond there as far as one would advance in a seven days' journey; but the Roman Emperor Diocletian came there, and observed that the tribute from these places was of the smallest possible account, since the land is at that point extremely narrow (for rocks rise to an exceedingly great height at no great distance from the Nile and spread over the rest of the country), while a very large body of soldiers had been stationed there from of old, the maintenance of which was an excessive burden upon the public; and at the same time the Nobatae who formerly dwelt about the city of Oasis used to plunder the whole region; so he persuaded these barbarians to move from their own habitations, and to settle along the River Nile, promising to bestow upon them great cities and land both extensive and incomparably better than that which they had previously occupied. For in this way he thought that they would no longer harass the country about Oasis at least, and that they would possess themselves of the land given them, as being their own, and would probably beat off the Blemyes and the other barbarians. And since this pleased the Nobatae, they made the migration immediately, just as Diocletian directed them, and took possession of all the Roman cities and the land on both sides of the river beyond the city of Elephantine. Then it was that this emperor decreed that to them and to the Blemyes a fixed sum of gold should be given every year with the stipulation that they should no longer plunder the land of the Romans. And they receive this gold even up to my time, but none the less they overrun the country there. Thus it seems that with all barbarians there is no means of compelling them to keep faith with the Romans except through the fear of soldiers to hold them in check. And yet this emperor went so far as to select a certain island in the River Nile close to the city of Elephantine and there construct a very strong fortress in which he established certain temples and altars for the Romans and these barbarians in common, and he settled priests of both nations in this fortress, thinking that the friendship between them would be secure by reason of their sharing the things sacred to them. And for this reason he named the place Philae. Now both these nations, the Blemyes and the Nobatae, believe in all the gods in which the Greeks believe, and they also reverence Isis and Osiris, and not least of all Priapus. But the Blemyes are accustomed also to sacrifice human beings to the sun. These sanctuaries in Philae were kept by these barbarians even up to my time, but the Emperor Justinian decided to tear them down. Accordingly Narses, a Persarmenian by birth, whom I have mentioned before as having deserted to the Romans[27], being commander of the troops there, tore down the sanctuaries at the emperor's order, and put the priests under guard and sent the statues to Byzantium. But I shall return to the previous narrative. XX At about the time of this war Hellestheaeus, the king of the Aethiopians, who was a Christian and a most devoted adherent of this faith, discovered that a number of the Homeritae on the opposite mainland were oppressing the Christians there outrageously; many of these rascals were Jews, and many of them held in reverence the old faith which men of the present day call Hellenic. He therefore collected a fleet of ships and an army and came against them, and he conquered them in battle and slew both the king and many of the Homeritae. He then set up in his stead a Christian king, a Homerite by birth, by name Esimiphaeus, and, after ordaining that he should pay a tribute to the Aethiopians every year, he returned to his home. In this Aethiopian army many slaves and all who were readily disposed to crime were quite unwilling to follow the king back, but were left behind and remained there because of their desire for the land of the Homeritae; for it is an extremely goodly land. These fellows at a time not long after this, in company with certain others, rose against the king Esimiphaeus and put him in confinement in one of the fortresses there, and established another king over the Homeritae, Abramus by name. Now this Abramus was a Christian, but a slave of a Roman citizen who was engaged in the business of shipping in the city of Adulis in Aethiopia. When Hellestheaeus learned this, he was eager to punish Abramus together with those who had revolted with him for their injustice to Esimiphaeus, and he sent against them an army of three thousand men with one of his relatives as commander. This army, once there, was no longer willing to return home, but they wished to remain where they were in a goodly land, and so without the knowledge of their commander they opened negotiations with Abramus; then when they came to an engagement with their opponents, just as the fighting began, they killed their commander and joined the ranks of the enemy, and so remained there. But Hellestheaeus was greatly moved with anger and sent still another army against them; this force engaged with Abramus and his men, and, after suffering a severe defeat in the battle, straightway returned home. Thereafter the king of the Aethiopians became afraid, and sent no further expeditions against Abramus. After the death of Hellestheaeus, Abramus agreed to pay tribute to the king of the Aethiopians who succeeded him, and in this way he strengthened his rule. But this happened at a later time. At that time, when Hellestheaeus was reigning over the Aethiopians, and Esimiphaeus over the Homeritae, the Emperor Justinian sent an ambassador, Julianus, demanding that both nations on account of their community of religion should make common cause with the Romans in the war against the Persians; for he purposed that the Aethiopians, by purchasing silk from India and selling it among the Romans, might themselves gain much money, while causing the Romans to profit in only one way, namely, that they be no longer compelled to pay over their money to their enemy. (This is the silk of which they are accustomed to make the garments which of old the Greeks called Medic, but which at the present time they name "seric"[28]). As for the Homeritae, it was desired that they should establish Caïsus, the fugitive, as captain over the Maddeni, and with a great army of their own people and of the Maddene Saracens make an invasion into the land of the Persians. This Caïsus was by birth of the captain's rank and an exceptionally able warrior, but he had killed one of the relatives of Esimiphaeus and was a fugitive in a land which is utterly destitute of human habitation. So each king, promising to put this demand into effect, dismissed the ambassador, but neither one of them did the things agreed upon by them. For it was impossible for the Aethiopians to buy silk from the Indians, for the Persian merchants always locate themselves at the very harbours where the Indian ships first put in, (since they inhabit the adjoining country), and are accustomed to buy the whole cargoes; and it seemed to the Homeritae a difficult thing to cross a country which was a desert and which extended so far that a long time was required for the journey across it, and then to go against a people much more warlike than themselves. Later on Abramus too, when at length he had established his power most securely, promised the Emperor Justinian many times to invade the land of Persia, but only once began the journey and then straightway turned back. Such then were the relations which the Romans had with the Aethiopians and the Homeritae. XXI Hermogenes, as soon as the battle on the Euphrates had taken place, came before Cabades to negotiate with him, but he accomplished nothing regarding the peace on account of which he had come, since he found him still swelling with rage against the Romans; for this reason he returned unsuccessful. And Belisarius came to Byzantium at the summons of the emperor, having been removed from the office which he held, in order that he might march against the Vandals; but Sittas, as had been decreed by the Emperor Justinian, went to the East in order to guard that portion of the empire. And the Persians once more invaded Mesopotamia with a great army under command of Chanaranges and Aspebedes and Mermeroes. Since no one dared to engage with them, they made camp and began the siege of Martyropolis, where Bouzes and Bessas had been stationed in command of the garrison. This city lies in the land called Sophanene, two hundred and forty stades distant from the city of Amida toward the north; it is just on the River Nymphius which divides the land of the Romans and the Persians. So the Persians began to assail the fortifications, and, while the besieged at first withstood them manfully, it did not seem likely that they would hold out long. For the circuit-wall was quite easily assailable in most parts, and could be captured very easily by a Persian siege, and besides they did not have a sufficient supply of provisions, nor indeed had they engines of war nor anything else that was of any value for defending themselves. Meanwhile Sittas and the Roman army came to a place called Attachas, one hundred stades distant from Martyropolis, but they did not dare to advance further, but established their camp and remained there. Hermogenes also was with them, coming again as ambassador from Byzantium. At this point the following event took place. It has been customary from ancient times both among the Romans and the Persians to maintain spies at public expense; these men are accustomed to go secretly among the enemy, in order that they may investigate accurately what is going on, and may then return and report to the rulers. Many of these men, as is natural, exert themselves to act in a spirit of loyalty to their nation, while some also betray their secrets to the enemy. At that time a certain spy who had been sent from the Persians to the Romans came into the presence of the Emperor Justinian and revealed many things which were taking place among the barbarians, and, in particular, that the nation of the Massagetae, in order to injure the Romans, were on the very point of going out into the land of Persia, and that from there they were prepared to march into the territory of the Romans, and unite with the Persian army. When the emperor heard this, having already a proof of the man's truthfulness to him, he presented him with a handsome sum of money and persuaded him to go to the Persian army which was besieging the Martyropolitans, and announce to the barbarians there that these Massagetae had been won over with money by the Roman emperor, and were about to come against them that very moment. The spy carried out these instructions, and coming to the army of the barbarians he announced to Chanaranges and the others that an army of Huns hostile to them would at no distant time come to the Romans. And when they heard this, they were seized with terror, and were at a loss how to deal with the situation. At this juncture it came about that Cabades became seriously ill, and he called to him one of the Persians who were in closest intimacy with him, Mebodes by name, and conversed with him concerning Chosroes and the kingdom, and said he feared the Persians would make a serious attempt to disregard some of the things which had been decided upon by him. But Mebodes asked him to leave the declaration of his purpose in writing, and bade him be confident that the Persians would never dare to disregard it. So Cabades set it down plainly that Chosroes should become king over the Persians. The document was written by Mebodes himself, and Cabades immediately passed from among men. [Sept. 13, 531] And when everything had been performed as prescribed by law in the burial of the king, then Caoses, confident by reason of the law, tried to lay claim to the office, but Mebodes stood in his way, asserting that no one ought to assume the royal power by his own initiative but by vote of the Persian notables. So Caoses committed the decision in the matter to the magistrates, supposing that there would be no opposition to him from there. But when all the Persian notables had been gathered together for this purpose and were in session, Mebodes read the document and stated the purpose of Cabades regarding Chosroes, and all, calling to mind the virtue of Cabades, straightway declared Chosroes King of the Persians. Thus then Chosroes secured the power. But at Martyropolis, Sittas and Hermogenes were in fear concerning the city, since they were utterly unable to defend it in its peril, and they sent certain men to the enemy, who came before the generals and spoke as follows: "It has escaped your own notice that you are becoming wrongfully an obstacle to the king of the Persians and to the blessings of peace and to each state. For ambassadors sent from the emperor are even now present in order that they may go to the king of the Persians and there settle the differences and establish a treaty with him; but do you as quickly as possible remove from the land of the Romans and permit the ambassadors to act in the manner which will be of advantage to both peoples. For we are ready also to give as hostages men of repute concerning these very things, to prove that they will be actually accomplished at no distant date." Such were the words of the ambassadors of the Romans. It happened also that a messenger came to them from the palace, who brought them word that Cabades had died and that Chosroes, son of Cabades, had become king over the Persians, and that in this way the situation had become unsettled. And as a result of this the generals heard the words of the Romans gladly, since they feared also the attack of the Huns. The Romans therefore straightway gave as hostages Martinus and one of the body-guards of Sittas, Senecius by name; so the Persians broke up the siege and made their departure promptly. And the Huns not long afterward invaded the land of the Romans, but since they did not find the Persian army there, they made their raid a short one, and then all departed homeward. XXII Straightway Rufinus and Alexander and Thomas came to act as ambassadors with Hermogenes, and they all came before the Persian king at the River Tigris. And when Chosroes saw them, he released the hostages. Then the ambassadors coaxed Chosroes, and spoke many beguiling words most unbecoming to Roman ambassadors. By this treatment Chosroes became tractable, and agreed to establish a peace with them that should be without end for the price of one hundred and ten "centenaria," on condition that the commander of troops in Mesopotamia should be no longer at Daras, but should spend all his time in Constantina, as was customary in former times; but the fortresses in Lazica he refused to give back, although he himself demanded that he should receive back from the Romans both Pharangium and the fortress of Bolum. (Now the "centenarium" weighs one hundred pounds, for which reason it is so called; for the Romans call one hundred "centum"). He demanded that this gold be given him, in order that the Romans might not be compelled either to tear down the city of Daras or to share the garrison at the Caspian Gates with the Persians[29]. However the ambassadors, while approving the rest, said that they were not able to concede the fortresses, unless they should first make enquiry of the emperor concerning them. It was decided, accordingly, that Rufinus should be sent concerning them to Byzantium, and that the others should wait until he should return. And it was arranged with Rufinus that seventy days' time be allowed until he should arrive. When Rufinus reached Byzantium and reported to the emperor what Chosroes' decision was concerning the peace, the emperor commanded that the peace be concluded by them on these terms. In the meantime, however, a report which was not true reached Persia saying that the Emperor Justinian had become enraged and put Rufinus to death. Chosroes indeed was much perturbed by this, and, already filled with anger, he advanced against the Romans with his whole army. But Rufinus met him on the way as he was returning not far from the city of Nisibis. Therefore they proceeded to this city themselves, and, since they were about to establish the peace, the ambassadors began to convey the money thither. But the Emperor Justinian was already repenting that he had given up the strong holds of Lazica, and he wrote a letter to the ambassadors expressly commanding them by no means to hand them over to the Persians. For this reason Chosroes no longer saw fit to make the treaty; and then it came to the mind of Rufinus that he had counselled more speedily than safely in bringing the money into the land of Persia. Straightway, therefore, he threw himself on the earth, and lying prone he entreated Chosroes to send the money back with them and not march immediately against the Romans, but to put off the war to some other time. And Chosroes bade him rise from the ground, promising that he would grant all these things. So the ambassadors with the money came to Daras and the Persian army marched back. Then indeed the fellow-ambassadors of Rufinus began to regard him with extreme suspicion themselves, and they also denounced him to the emperor, basing their judgment on the fact that Chosroes had been persuaded to concede him everything which he asked of him. However, the emperor showed him no disfavour on account of this. At a time not long after this Rufinus himself and Hermogenes were again sent to the court of Chosroes, and they immediately came to agreement with each other concerning the treaty, subject to the condition that both sides should give back all the places which each nation had wrested from the other in that war, and that there should no longer be any military post in Daras; as for the Iberians, it was agreed that the decision rested with them whether they should remain there in Byzantium or return to their own fatherland. And there were many who remained, and many also who returned to their ancestral homes. [532 A.D.] Thus, then, they concluded the so-called "endless peace," when the Emperor Justinian was already in the sixth year of his reign. And the Romans gave the Persians Pharangium and the fortress of Bolum together with the money, and the Persians gave the Romans the strongholds of Lazica. The Persians also returned Dagaris to the Romans, and received in return for him another man of no mean station. This Dagaris in later times often conquered the Huns in battle when they had invaded the land of the Romans, and drove them out; for he was an exceptionally able warrior. Thus both sides in the manner described made secure the treaty between them. XXIII Straightway it came about that plots were formed against both rulers by their subjects; and I shall now explain how this happened. Chosroes, the son of Cabades, was a man of an unruly turn of mind and strangely fond of innovations. For this reason he himself was always full of excitement and alarms, and he was an unfailing cause of similar feelings in all others. All, therefore, who were men of action among the Persians, in vexation at his administration, were purposing to establish over themselves another king from the house of Cabades. And since they longed earnestly for the rule of Zames, which was made impossible by the law by reason of the disfigurement of his eye, as has been stated, they found upon consideration that the best course for them was to establish in power his child Cabades, who bore the same name as his grandfather, while Zames, as guardian of the child, should administer the affairs of the Persians as he wished. So they went to Zames and disclosed their plan, and, urging him on with great enthusiasm, they endeavoured to persuade him to undertake the thing. And since the plan pleased him, they were purposing to assail Chosroes at the fitting moment. But the plan was discovered and came to the knowledge of the king, and thus their proceedings were stopped. For Chosroes slew Zames himself and all his own brothers and those of Zames together with all their male offspring, and also all the Persian notables who had either begun or taken part in any way in the plot against him. Among these was Aspebedes, the brother of Chosroes' mother. Cabades, however, the son of Zames, he was quite unable to kill; for he was still being reared under the chanaranges, Adergoudounbades. But he sent a message to the chanaranges, bidding him himself kill the boy he had reared; for he neither thought it well to shew mistrust, nor yet had he power to compel him. The chanaranges, therefore, upon hearing the commands of Chosroes, was exceedingly grieved and, lamenting the misfortune, he communicated to his wife and Cabades' nurse all that the king had commanded. Then the woman, bursting into tears and seizing the knees of her husband, entreated him by no means to kill Cabades. They therefore consulted together, and planned to bring up the child in the most secure concealment, and to send word in haste to Chosroes that Cabades had been put out of the world for him. And they sent word to the king to this effect, and concealed Cabades in such a way that the affair did not come to the notice of any one, except Varrames, their own child, and one of the servants who seemed to them to be in every way most trustworthy. But when, as time went on, Cabades came of age, the chanaranges began to fear lest what had been done should be brought to light; he therefore gave Cabades money and bade him depart and save himself by flight wherever he could. At that time, then, Chosroes and all the others were in ignorance of the fact that the chanaranges had carried this thing through. At a later time Chosroes was making an invasion into the land of Colchis with a great army, as will be told in the following narrative[30]. And he was followed by the son of this same chanaranges, Varrames, who took with him a number of his servants, and among them the one who shared with him the knowledge of what had happened to Cabades; while there Varrames told the king everything regarding Cabades, and he brought forward the servant agreeing with him in every particular. When Chosroes learned this he was forthwith exceedingly angry, and he counted it a dreadful thing that he had suffered such things at the hand of a man who was his slave; and since he had no other means of getting the man under his hand he devised the following plan. When he was about to return homeward from the land of Colchis, he wrote to this chanaranges that he had decided to invade the land of the Romans with his whole army, not, however, by a single inroad into the country, but making two divisions of the Persian army, in order that the attack might be made upon the enemy on both sides of the River Euphrates. Now one division of the army he himself, as was natural, would lead into the hostile land, while to no one else of his subjects would he grant the privilege of holding equal honour with the king in this matter, except to the chanaranges himself on account of his valour. It was necessary, therefore, that the chanaranges should come speedily to meet him as he returned, in order that he might confer with him and give him all the directions which would be of advantage to the army, and that he should bid his attendants travel behind him on the road. When the chanaranges received this message, he was overjoyed at the honour shown him by the king, and in complete ignorance of his own evil plight, he immediately carried out the instructions. But in the course of this journey, since he was quite unable to sustain the toil of it (for he was a very old man), he relaxed his hold on the reins and fell off his horse, breaking the bone in his leg. It was therefore necessary for him to remain there quietly and be cared for, and the king came to that place and saw him. And Chosroes said to him that with his leg in such a plight it was not possible that he make the expedition with them, but that he must go to one of the fortresses in that region and receive treatment there from the physicians. Thus then Chosroes sent the man away on the road to death, and behind him followed the very men who were to destroy him in the fortress,--a man who was in fact as well as in name an invincible general among the Persians, who had marched against twelve nations of barbarians and subjected them all to King Cabades. After Adergoudounbades had been removed from the world, Varrames, his son, received the office of chanaranges. Not long after this either Cabades himself, the son of Zames, or someone else who was assuming the name of Cabades came to Byzantium; certainly he resembled very closely in appearance Cabades, the king. And the Emperor Justinian, though in doubt concerning him, received him with great friendliness and honoured him as the grandson of Cabades. So then fared the Persians who rose against Chosroes. Later on Chosroes destroyed also Mebodes for the following reason. While the king was arranging a certain important matter, he directed Zaberganes who was present to call Mebodes. Now it happened that Zaberganes was on hostile terms with Mebodes. When he came to him, he found him marshalling the soldiers under his command, and he said that the king summoned him to come as quickly as possible. And Mebodes promised that he would follow directly as soon as he should have arranged the matter in hand; but Zaberganes, moved by his hostility to him, reported to Chosroes that Mebodes did not wish to come at present, claiming to have some business or other. Chosroes, therefore, moved with anger, sent one of his attendants commanding Mebodes to go to the tripod. Now as to what this is I shall explain forthwith. An iron tripod stands always before the palace; and whenever anyone of the Persians learns that the king is angry with him, it is not right for such a man to flee for refuge to a sanctuary nor to go elsewhere, but he must seat himself by this tripod and await the verdict of the king, while no one at all dares protect him. There Mebodes sat in pitiable plight for many days, until he was seized and put to death at the command of Chosroes. Such was the final outcome of his good deeds to Chosroes. XXIV [Jan. 1, 532] At this same time an insurrection broke out unexpectedly in Byzantium among the populace, and, contrary to expectation, it proved to be a very serious affair, and ended in great harm to the people and to the senate, as the following account will shew. In every city the population has been divided for a long time past into the Blue and the Green factions; but within comparatively recent times it has come about that, for the sake of these names and the seats which the rival factions occupy in watching the games, they spend their money and abandon their bodies to the most cruel tortures, and even do not think it unworthy to die a most shameful death. And they fight against their opponents knowing not for what end they imperil themselves, but knowing well that, even if they overcome their enemy in the fight, the conclusion of the matter for them will be to be carried off straightway to the prison, and finally, after suffering extreme torture, to be destroyed. So there grows up in them against their fellow men a hostility which has no cause, and at no time does it cease or disappear, for it gives place neither to the ties of marriage nor of relationship nor of friendship, and the case is the same even though those who differ with respect to these colours be brothers or any other kin. They care neither for things divine nor human in comparison with conquering in these struggles; and it matters not whether a sacrilege is committed by anyone at all against God, or whether the laws and the constitution are violated by friend or by foe; nay even when they are perhaps ill supplied with the necessities of life, and when their fatherland is in the most pressing need and suffering unjustly, they pay no heed if only it is likely to go well with their "faction"; for so they name the bands of partisans. And even women join with them in this unholy strife, and they not only follow the men, but even resist them if opportunity offers, although they neither go to the public exhibitions at all, nor are they impelled by any other cause; so that I, for my part, am unable to call this anything except a disease of the soul. This, then, is pretty well how matters stand among the people of each and every city. But at this time the officers of the city administration in Byzantium were leading away to death some of the rioters. But the members of the two factions, conspiring together and declaring a truce with each other, seized the prisoners and then straightway entered the prison and released all those who were in confinement there, whether they had been condemned on a charge of stirring up sedition, or for any other unlawful act. And all the attendants in the service of the city government were killed indiscriminately; meanwhile, all of the citizens who were sane-minded were fleeing to the opposite mainland, and fire was applied to the city as if it had fallen under the hand of an enemy. The sanctuary of Sophia and the baths of Zeuxippus, and the portion of the imperial residence from the propylaea as far as the so-called House of Ares were destroyed by fire, and besides these both the great colonnades which extended as far as the market place which bears the name of Constantine, in addition to many houses of wealthy men and a vast amount of treasure. During this time the emperor and his consort with a few members of the senate shut themselves up in the palace and remained quietly there. Now the watch-word which the populace passed around to one another was Nika[31], and the insurrection has been called by this name up to the present time. The praetorian prefect at that time was John the Cappadocian, and Tribunianus, a Pamphylian by birth, was counsellor to the emperor; this person the Romans call "quaestor." One of these two men, John, was entirely without the advantages of a liberal education; for he learned nothing while attending the elementary school except his letters, and these, too, poorly enough; but by his natural ability he became the most powerful man of whom we know. For he was most capable in deciding upon what was needful and in finding a solution for difficulties. But he became the basest of all men and employed his natural power to further his low designs; neither consideration for God nor any shame before man entered into his mind, but to destroy the lives of many men for the sake of gain and to wreck whole cities was his constant concern. So within a short time indeed he had acquired vast sums of money, and he flung himself completely into the sordid life of a drunken scoundrel; for up to the time of lunch each day he would plunder the property of his subjects, and for the rest of the day occupy himself with drinking and with wanton deeds of lust. And he was utterly unable to control himself, for he ate food until he vomited, and he was always ready to steal money and more ready to bring it out and spend it. Such a man then was John. Tribunianus, on the other hand, both possessed natural ability and in educational attainments was inferior to none of his contemporaries; but he was extraordinarily fond of the pursuit of money and always ready to sell justice for gain; therefore every day, as a rule, he was repealing some laws and proposing others, selling off to those who requested it either favour according to their need. Now as long as the people were waging this war with each other in behalf of the names of the colours, no attention was paid to the offences of these men against the constitution; but when the factions came to a mutual understanding, as has been said, and so began the sedition, then openly throughout the whole city they began to abuse the two and went about seeking them to kill. Accordingly the emperor, wishing to win the people to his side, instantly dismissed both these men from office. And Phocas, a patrician, he appointed praetorian prefect, a man of the greatest discretion and fitted by nature to be a guardian of justice; Basilides he commanded to fill the office of quaestor, a man known among the patricians for his agreeable qualities and a notable besides. However, the insurrection continued no less violently under them. Now on the fifth day of the insurrection in the late afternoon the Emperor Justinian gave orders to Hypatius and Pompeius, nephews of the late emperor, Anastasius, to go home as quickly as possible, either because he suspected that some plot was being matured by them against his own person, or, it may be, because destiny brought them to this. But they feared that the people would force them to the throne (as in fact fell out), and they said that they would be doing wrong if they should abandon their sovereign when he found himself in such danger. When the Emperor Justinian heard this, he inclined still more to his suspicion, and he bade them quit the palace instantly. Thus, then, these two men betook themselves to their homes, and, as long as it was night, they remained there quietly. But on the following day at sunrise it became known to the people that both men had quit the palace where they had been staying. So the whole population ran to them, and they declared Hypatius emperor and prepared to lead him to the market-place to assume the power. But the wife of Hypatius, Mary, a discreet woman, who had the greatest reputation for prudence, laid hold of her husband and would not let go, but cried out with loud lamentation and with entreaties to all her kinsmen that the people were leading him on the road to death. But since the throng overpowered her, she unwillingly released her husband, and he by no will of his own came to the Forum of Constantine, where they summoned him to the throne; then since they had neither diadem nor anything else with which it is customary for a king to be clothed, they placed a golden necklace upon his head and proclaimed him Emperor of the Romans. By this time the members of the senate were assembling,--as many of them as had not been left in the emperor's residence,--and many expressed the opinion that they should go to the palace to fight. But Origenes, a man of the senate, came forward and spoke as follows: "Fellow Romans, it is impossible that the situation which is upon us be solved in any way except by war. Now war and royal power are agreed to be the greatest of all things in the world. But when action involves great issues, it refuses to be brought to a successful conclusion by the brief crisis of a moment, but this is accomplished only by wisdom of thought and energy of action, which men display for a length of time. Therefore if we should go out against the enemy, our cause will hang in the balance, and we shall be taking a risk which will decide everything in a brief space of time; and, as regards the consequences of such action, we shall either fall down and worship Fortune or reproach her altogether. For those things whose issue is most quickly decided, fall, as a rule, under the sway of fortune. But if we handle the present situation more deliberately, not even if we wish shall we be able to take Justinian in the palace, but he will very speedily be thankful if he is allowed to flee; for authority which is ignored always loses its power, since its strength ebbs away with each day. Moreover we have other palaces, both Placillianae and the palace named from Helen, which this emperor should make his headquarters and from there he should carry on the war and attend to the ordering of all other matters in the best possible way." So spoke Origenes. But the rest, as a crowd is accustomed to do, insisted more excitedly and thought that the present moment was opportune, and not least of all Hypatius (for it was fated that evil should befall him) bade them lead the way to the hippodrome. But some say that he came there purposely, being well-disposed toward the emperor. Now the emperor and his court were deliberating as to whether it would be better for them if they remained or if they took to flight in the ships. And many opinions were expressed favouring either course. And the Empress Theodora also spoke to the following effect: "As to the belief that a woman ought not to be daring among men or to assert herself boldly among those who are holding back from fear, I consider that the present crisis most certainly does not permit us to discuss whether the matter should be regarded in this or in some other way. For in the case of those whose interests have come into the greatest danger nothing else seems best except to settle the issue immediately before them in the best possible way. My opinion then is that the present time, above all others, is inopportune for flight, even though it bring safety. For while it is impossible for a man who has seen the light not also to die, for one who has been an emperor it is unendurable to be a fugitive. May I never be separated from this purple, and may I not live that day on which those who meet me shall not address me as mistress. If, now, it is your wish to save yourself, O Emperor, there is no difficulty. For we have much money, and there is the sea, here the boats. However consider whether it will not come about after you have been saved that you would gladly exchange that safety for death. For as for myself, I approve a certain ancient saying that royalty is a good burial-shroud." When the queen had spoken thus, all were filled with boldness, and, turning their thoughts towards resistance, they began to consider how they might be able to defend themselves if any hostile force should come against them. Now the soldiers as a body, including those who were stationed about the emperor's court, were neither well disposed to the emperor nor willing openly to take an active part in fighting, but were waiting for what the future would bring forth. All the hopes of the emperor were centred upon Belisarius and Mundus, of whom the former, Belisarius, had recently returned from the Persian war bringing with him a following which was both powerful and imposing, and in particular he had a great number of spearmen and guards who had received their training in battles and the perils of warfare. Mundus had been appointed general of the Illyrians, and by mere chance had happened to come under summons to Byzantium on some necessary errand, bringing with him Erulian barbarians. When Hypatius reached the hippodrome, he went up immediately to where the emperor is accustomed to take his place and seated himself on the royal throne from which the emperor was always accustomed to view the equestrian and athletic contests. And from the palace Mundus went out through the gate which, from the circling descent, has been given the name of the Snail. Belisarius meanwhile began at first to go straight up toward Hypatius himself and the royal throne, and when he came to the adjoining structure where there has been a guard of soldiers from of old, he cried out to the soldiers commanding them to open the door for him as quickly as possible, in order that he might go against the tyrant. But since the soldiers had decided to support neither side, until one of them should be manifestly victorious, they pretended not to hear at all and thus put him off. So Belisarius returned to the emperor and declared that the day was lost for them, for the soldiers who guarded the palace were rebelling against him. The emperor therefore commanded him to go to the so-called Bronze Gate and the propylaea there. So Belisarius, with difficulty and not without danger and great exertion, made his way over ground covered by ruins and half-burned buildings, and ascended to the stadium. And when he had reached the Blue Colonnade which is on the right of the emperor's throne, he purposed to go against Hypatius himself first; but since there was a small door there which had been closed and was guarded by the soldiers of Hypatius who were inside, he feared lest while he was struggling in the narrow space the populace should fall upon him, and after destroying both himself and all his followers, should proceed with less trouble and difficulty against the emperor. Concluding, therefore, that he must go against the populace who had taken their stand in the hippodrome--a vast multitude crowding each other in great disorder--he drew his sword from its sheath and, commanding the others to do likewise, with a shout he advanced upon them at a run. But the populace, who were standing in a mass and not in order, at the sight of armoured soldiers who had a great reputation for bravery and experience in war, and seeing that they struck out with their swords unsparingly, beat a hasty retreat. Then a great outcry arose, as was natural, and Mundus, who was standing not far away, was eager to join in the fight,--for he was a daring and energetic fellow--but he was at a loss as to what he should do under the circumstances; when, however, he observed that Belisarius was in the struggle, he straightway made a sally into the hippodrome through the entrance which they call the Gate of Death. Then indeed from both sides the partisans of Hypatius were assailed with might and main and destroyed. When the rout had become complete and there had already been great slaughter of the populace, Boraedes and Justus, nephews of the Emperor Justinian, without anyone daring to lift a hand against them, dragged Hypatius down from the throne, and, leading him in, handed him over together with Pompeius to the emperor. And there perished among the populace on that day more than thirty thousand. But the emperor commanded the two prisoners to be kept in severe confinement. Then, while Pompeius was weeping and uttering pitiable words (for the man was wholly inexperienced in such misfortunes), Hypatius reproached him at length and said that those who were about to die unjustly should not lament. For in the beginning they had been forced by the people against their will, and afterwards they had come to the hippodrome with no thought of harming the emperor. And the soldiers killed both of them on the following day and threw their bodies into the sea. The emperor confiscated all their property for the public treasury, and also that of all the other members of the senate who had sided with them. Later, however, he restored to the children of Hypatius and Pompeius and to all others the titles which they had formerly held, and as much of their property as he had not happened to bestow upon his friends. This was the end of the insurrection in Byzantium. XXV Tribunianus and John were thus deprived of office, but at a later time they were both restored to the same positions. And Tribunianus lived on in office many years and died of disease, suffering no further harm from anyone. For he was a smooth fellow and agreeable in every way and well able by the excellence of his education to throw into the shade his affliction of avarice. But John was oppressive and severe alike with all men, inflicting blows upon those whom he met and plundering without respect absolutely all their money; consequently in the tenth year of his office he rightly and justly atoned for his lawless conduct in the following manner. The Empress Theodora hated him above all others. And while he gave offence to the woman by the wrongs he committed, he was not of a mind to win her by flattery or by kindness in any way, but he openly set himself in opposition to her and kept slandering her to the emperor, neither blushing before her high station nor feeling shame because of the extraordinary love which the emperor felt for her. When the queen perceived what was being done, she purposed to slay the man, but in no way could she do this, since the Emperor Justinian set great store by him. And when John learned of the purpose of the queen regarding him, he was greatly terrified. And whenever he went into his chamber to sleep, he expected every night that some one of the barbarians would fall upon him to slay him; and he kept peeping out of the room and looking about the entrances and remained sleepless, although he had attached to himself many thousands of spearmen and guards, a thing which had been granted to no prefect before that time. But at daybreak, forgetting all his fears of things divine and human, he would become again a plague to all the Romans both in public and in private. And he conversed commonly with sorcerers, and constantly listened to profane oracles which portended for him the imperial office, so that he was plainly walking on air and lifted up by his hopes of the royal power. But in his rascality and the lawlessness of his conduct there was no moderation or abatement. And there was in him absolutely no regard for God, and even when he went to a sanctuary to pray and to pass the night, he did not do at all as the Christians are wont to do, but he clothed himself in a coarse garment appropriate to a priest of the old faith which they are now accustomed to call Hellenic, and throughout that whole night mumbled out some unholy words which he had practised, praying that the mind of the emperor might be still more under his control, and that he himself might be free from harm at the hands of all men. At this time Belisarius, after subjugating Italy, came to Byzantium at the summons of the emperor with his wife Antonina, in order to march against the Persians[32]. And while in the eyes of all others he was an honoured and distinguished person, as was natural, John alone was hostile to him and worked actively against him, for no other reason than that he drew the hatred of all to himself, while Belisarius enjoyed an unequalled popularity. And it was on him that the hope of the Romans centred as he marched once more against the Persians, leaving his wife in Byzantium. Now Antonina, the wife of Belisarius, (for she was the most capable person in the world to contrive the impossible,) purposing to do a favour to the empress, devised the following plan. John had a daughter, Euphemia, who had a great reputation for discretion, but a very young woman and for this reason very susceptible; this girl was exceedingly loved by her father, for she was his only child. By treating this young woman kindly for several days Antonina succeeded most completely in winning her friendship, and she did not refuse to share her secrets with her. And on one occasion when she was present alone with her in her room she pretended to lament the fate which was upon her, saying that although Belisarius had made the Roman empire broader by a goodly measure than it had been before, and though he had brought two captive kings and so great an amount of wealth to Byzantium, he found Justinian ungrateful; and in other respects she slandered the government as not just. Now Euphemia was overjoyed by these words, for she too was hostile to the present administration by reason of her fear of the empress, and she said: "And yet, dearest friend, it is you and Belisarius who are to blame for this, seeing that, though you have opportunity, you are not willing to use your power." And Antonina replied quickly: "It is because we are not able, my daughter, to undertake revolutions in camp, unless some of those here at home join with us in the task. Now if your father were willing, we should most easily organize this project and accomplish whatever God wills." When Euphemia heard this, she promised eagerly that the suggestion would be carried out, and departing from there she immediately brought the matter before her father. And he was pleased by the message (for he inferred that this undertaking offered him a way to the fulfilment of his prophecies and to the royal power), and straightway without any hesitation he assented, and bade his child arrange that on the following day he himself should come to confer with Antonina and give pledges. When Antonina learned the mind of John, she wished to lead him as far as possible astray from the understanding of the truth, so she said that for the present it was inadvisable that he should meet her, for fear lest some suspicion should arise strong enough to prevent proceedings; but she was intending straightway to depart for the East to join Belisarius. When, therefore, she had quit Byzantium and had reached the suburb (the one called Rufinianae which was the private possession of Belisarius), there John should come as if to salute her and to escort her forth on the journey, and they should confer regarding matters of state and give and receive their pledges. In saying this she seemed to John to speak well, and a certain day was appointed to carry out the plan. And the empress, hearing the whole account from Antonina, expressed approval of what she had planned, and by her exhortations raised her enthusiasm to a much higher pitch still. When the appointed day was at hand, Antonina bade the empress farewell and departed from the city, and she went to Rufinianae, as if to begin on the following day her journey to the East; hither too came John at night in order to carry out the plan which had been agreed upon. Meanwhile the empress denounced to her husband the things which were being done by John to secure the tyranny, and she sent Narses, the eunuch, and Marcellus, the commander of the palace guards to Rufinianae with numerous soldiers, in order that they might investigate what was going on, and, if they found John setting about a revolution, that they might kill the man forthwith and return. So these departed for this task. But they say that the emperor got information of what was being done and sent one of John's friends to him forbidding him on any condition to meet Antonina secretly. But John (since it was fated that he should fare ill), disregarding the emperor's warning, about midnight met Antonina, close by a certain wall behind which she had stationed Narses and Marcellus with their men that they might hear what was said. There, while John with unguarded tongue was assenting to the plans for the attack and binding himself with the most dread oaths, Narses and Marcellus suddenly set upon him. But in the natural confusion which resulted the body-guards of John (for they stood close by) came immediately to his side. And one of them smote Marcellus with his sword, not knowing who he was, and thus John was enabled to escape with them, and reached the city with all speed. And if he had had the courage to go straightway before the emperor, I believe that he would have suffered no harm at his hand; but as it was, he fled for refuge to the sanctuary, and gave the empress opportunity to work her will against him at her pleasure. [May, 541] Thus, then, from being prefect he became a private citizen, and rising from that sanctuary he was conveyed to another, which is situated in the suburb of the city of Cyzicus called by the Cyzicenes Artace. There he donned the garb of a priest, much against his will, not a bishop's gown however, but that of a presbyter, as they are called. But he was quite unwilling to perform the office of a priest lest at some time it should be a hindrance to his entering again into office; for he was by no means ready to relinquish his hopes. All his property was immediately confiscated to the public treasury, but a large proportion of this the emperor remitted to him, for he was still inclined to spare him. There it was possible for John to live, disregarding all dangers and enjoying great wealth, both that which he himself had concealed and that which by the decision of the emperor remained with him, and to indulge in luxury at his pleasure, and, if he had reasoned wisely, to consider his present lot a happy one. For this reason all the Romans were exceedingly vexed with the man, because, forsooth, after proving himself the basest of all demons, contrary to his deserts he was leading a life happier than before. But God, I think, did not suffer John's retribution to end thus, but prepared for him a greater punishment. And it fell out thus. There was in Cyzicus a certain bishop named Eusebius, a man harsh to all who came in his way, and no less so than John; this man the Cyzicenes denounced to the emperor and summoned to justice. And since they accomplished nothing inasmuch as Eusebius circumvented them by his great power, certain youths agreed together and killed him in the market-place of Cyzicus. Now it happened that John had become especially hostile to Eusebius, and hence the suspicion of the plot fell upon him. Accordingly men were sent from the senate to investigate this act of pollution. And these men first confined John in a prison, and then this man who had been such a powerful prefect, and had been inscribed among the patricians and had mounted the seat of the consuls, than which nothing seems greater, at least in the Roman state, they made to stand naked like any robber or footpad, and thrashing him with many blows upon his back, compelled him to tell his past life. And while John had not been clearly convicted as guilty of the murder of Eusebius, it seemed that God's justice was exacting from him the penalties of the world. Thereafter they stripped him of all his goods and put him naked on board a ship, being wrapped in a single cloak, and that a very rough one purchased for some few obols; and wherever the ship anchored, those who had him in charge commanded him to ask from those he met bread or obols. Thus begging everywhere along the way he was conveyed to the city of Antinous in Aegypt. And this is now the third year during which they have been guarding him there in confinement. As for John himself, although he has fallen into such troubles, he has not relinquished his hope of royal power, but he made up his mind to denounce certain Alexandrians as owing money to the public treasury. Thus then John the Cappadocian ten years afterward was overtaken by this punishment for his political career. XXVI At that time the Emperor again designated Belisarius General of the East, and, sending him to Libya, gained over the country, as will be told later on in my narrative. When this information came to Chosroes and the Persians, they were mightily vexed, and they already repented having made peace with the Romans, because they perceived that their power was extending greatly. And Chosroes sent envoys to Byzantium, and said that he rejoiced with the Emperor Justinian, and he asked with a laugh to receive his share of the spoils from Libya, on the ground that the emperor would never have been able to conquer in the war with the Vandals if the Persians had not been at peace with him. So then Justinian made a present of money to Chosroes, and not long afterwards dismissed the envoys. In the city of Daras the following event took place. There was a certain John there serving in a detachment of infantry; this man, in conspiracy with some few of the soldiers, but not all, took possession of the city, essaying to make himself tyrant. Then he established himself in a palace as if in a citadel, and was strengthening his tyranny every day. And if it had not happened that the Persians were continuing to keep peace with the Romans, irreparable harm would have come from this affair to the Romans. But as it was, this was prevented by the agreement which had already been reached, as I have said. On the fourth day of the tyranny some soldiers conspired together, and by the advice of Mamas, the priest of the city, and Anastasius, one of the notable citizens, they went up to the palace at high noon, each man hiding a small sword under his garment. And first at the door of the courtyard they found some few of the body-guards, whom they slew immediately. Then they entered the men's apartment and laid hold upon the tyrant; but some say that the soldiers were not the first to do this, but that while they were still hesitating in the courtyard and trembling at the danger, a certain sausage-vendor who was with them rushed in with his cleaver and meeting John smote him unexpectedly. But the blow which had been dealt him was not a fatal one, this account goes on to say, and he fled with a great outcry and suddenly fell among these very soldiers. Thus they laid hands upon the man and immediately set fire to the palace and burned it, in order that there might be left no hope from there for those making revolutions; and John they led away to the prison and bound. And one of them, fearing lest the soldiers, upon learning that the tyrant survived, might again make trouble for the city, killed John, and in this way stopped the confusion. Such, then, was the progress of events touching this tyranny. FOOTNOTES: [1] Cf. _Iliad_ xi. 385 [Greek: toxota, lôbêtêr, kerai aglae, parthenopipa], the only place where [Greek: toxotês] occurs in Homer. [2] Cf. _Iliad_ v. 192. [3] Cf. _Iliad_ viii. 267; xi. 371. [4] Cf. _Iliad_ iv. 113. [5] Cf. _Iliad_ iv. 123. [6] Cf. _Iliad_ xi. 390. [7] The trench crossed the plain in an approximately straight line. The army of the Ephthalitae were drawn up behind it, facing the advancing Persians, while a few of them went out beyond the trench to draw the attack of the Persians. [8] Cf. Thuc. ii. 76, 4. [9] Cf. Book VII. xxvi. 4. [10] Cf. Thuc. i. 128. [11] A division of no fixed number. [12] Cf. Book I. ii. 15. [13] Modern Erzeroum. [14] _i.e._ "by force." [15] Cf. Book VIII. xiii. 15. [16] Cf. _Iliad_ xxiv. 348; _Odyssey_ x. 279. [17] Lebanon. [18] Roman formation. _a--a, trench._ 1. Bouzes and Pharas. 2. Sunicas and Aigan. 3. John, Cyril, Marcellus, Germanus, and Dorotheus. 4. Simmas and Ascan. 5. Belisarius and Hermogenes. [Illustration: Roman formation.] 1. 3. (h)======= |----| =========== hill 2.--| 5. |--4. a__________| |__________a ================= [19] Cf. Book I. x. 2. [20] Cf. Book I. xii. 21. [21] Cf. Book I. xiii. 2. [22] "Euphratesia"; cf. section 2. [23] Title meaning a patrician. See Index. [24] Ch. xiv. 28-54. [25] The coast described here is that of Arabia. [26] Rather the "Arabian Gulf." [27] Cf. ch. xv. 31. [28] In Latin _serica_, as coming from the Chinese (Seres). [29] Cf. chap. xvi. 7. [30] Cf. Book II. xvii. [31] _i.e._ "Conquer." [32] Book VI. xxx. 30. HISTORY OF THE WARS: BOOK II THE PERSIAN WAR (_Continued_) HISTORY OF THE WARS: BOOK II THE PERSIAN WAR (_Continued_) I Not long after this Chosroes, upon learning that Belisarius had begun to win Italy also for the Emperor Justinian, was no longer able to restrain his thoughts but he wished to discover pretexts, in order that he might break the treaty on some grounds which would seem plausible. And he conferred with Alamoundaras concerning this matter and commanded him to provide causes for war. So Alamoundaras brought against Arethas, the charge that he, Arethas, was doing him violence in a matter of boundary lines, and he entered into conflict with him in time of peace, and began to overrun the land of the Romans on this pretext. And he declared that, as for him, he was not breaking the treaty between the Persians and Romans, for neither one of them had included him in it. And this was true. For no mention of Saracens was ever made in treaties, on the ground that they were included under the names of Persians and Romans. Now this country which at that time was claimed by both tribes of Saracens[1] is called Strata, and extends to the south of the city of Palmyra; nowhere does it produce a single tree or any of the useful growth of corn-lands, for it is burned exceedingly dry by the sun, but from of old it has been devoted to the pasturage of some few flocks. Now Arethas maintained that the place belonged to the Romans, proving his assertion by the name which has long been applied to it by all (for Strata signifies "a paved road" in the Latin tongue), and he also adduced the testimonies of men of the oldest times. Alamoundaras, however, was by no means inclined to quarrel concerning the name, but he claimed that tribute had been given him from of old for the pasturage there by the owners of the flocks. The Emperor Justinian therefore entrusted the settlement of the disputed points to Strategius; a patrician and administrator of the royal treasures, and besides a man of wisdom and of good ancestry, and with him Summus, who had commanded the troops in Palestine. This Summus was the brother of Julian, who not long before had served as envoy to the Aethiopians and Homeritae. And the one of them, Summus, insisted that the Romans ought not to surrender the country, but Strategius begged of the emperor that he should not do the Persians the favour of providing them with pretexts for the war which they already desired, for the sake of a small bit of land and one of absolutely no account, but altogether unproductive and unsuitable for crops. The Emperor Justinian, therefore, took the matter under consideration, and a long time was spent in the settlement of the question. But Chosroes, the King of the Persians, claimed that the treaty had been broken by Justinian, who had lately displayed great opposition to his house, in that he had attempted in time of peace to attach Alamoundaras to himself. For, as he said, Summus, who had recently gone to the Saracen ostensibly to arrange matters, had hoodwinked him by promises of large sums of money on condition that he should join the Romans, and he brought forward a letter which, he alleged, the Emperor Justinian had written to Alamoundaras concerning these things. He also declared that he had sent a letter to some of the Huns, in which he urged them to invade the land of the Persians and to do extensive damage to the country thereabout. This letter he asserted to have been put into his hands by the Huns themselves who had come before him. So then Chosroes, with these charges against the Romans, was purposing to break off the treaty. But as to whether he was speaking the truth in these matters, I am not able to say. II At this point Vittigis, the leader of the Goths, already worsted in the war, sent two envoys to him to persuade him to march against the Romans; but the men whom he sent were not Goths, in order that the real character of the embassy might not be at once obvious and so make negotiations useless, but Ligurian priests who were attracted to this enterprise by rich gifts of money. One of these men, who seemed to be the more worthy, undertook the embassy assuming the pretended name of bishop which did not belong to him at all, while the other followed as his attendant. And when in the course of the journey they came to the land of Thrace, they attached to themselves a man from there to be an interpreter of the Syriac and the Greek tongues, and without being detected by any of the Romans, they reached the land of Persia. For inasmuch as they were at peace, they were not keeping a strict guard over that region. And coming before Chosroes they spoke as follows: "It is true, O King, that all other envoys undertake their task for the sake of advantages to themselves as a rule, but we have been sent by Vittigis, the king of the Goths and the Italians, in order to speak in behalf of thy kingdom; and consider that he is now present before thee speaking these words. If anyone should say, O King, putting all in a word, that thou hast given up thy kingdom and all men everywhere to Justinian, he would be speaking correctly. For since he is by nature a meddler and a lover of those things which in no way belong to him, and is not able to abide by the settled order of things, he has conceived the desire of seizing upon the whole earth, and has become eager to acquire for himself each and every state. Accordingly (since he was neither able alone to assail the Persians, nor with the Persians opposing him to proceed against the others), he decided to deceive thee with the pretence of peace, and by forcing the others to subjection to acquire mighty forces against thy state. Therefore, after having already destroyed the kingdom of the Vandals and subjugated the Moors, while the Goths because of their friendship stood aside for him, he has come against us bringing vast sums of money and many men. Now it is evident that, if he is able also to crush the Goths utterly, he will with us and those already enslaved march against the Persians, neither considering the name of friendship nor blushing before any of his sworn promises. While, therefore, some hope of safety is still left thee, do not do us any further wrong nor suffer it thyself, but see in our misfortunes what will a little later befall the Persians; and consider that the Romans could never be well-disposed to thy kingdom, and that when they become more powerful, they will not hesitate at all to display their enmity toward the Persians. Use, therefore, this good chance while the time fits, lest thou seek for it after it has ceased. For when once the time of opportunity has passed, it is not its nature to return again. And it is better by anticipating to be in security, than by delaying beyond the opportune time to suffer the most miserable fate possible at the hands of the enemy." When Chosroes heard this, it seemed to him that Vittigis advised well, and he was still more eager to break off the treaty. For, moved as he was by envy toward the Emperor Justinian, he neglected completely to consider that the words were spoken to him by men who were bitter enemies of Justinian. But because he wished the thing he willingly consented to be persuaded. And he did the very same thing a little later in the case of the addresses of the Armenians and of the Lazi, which will be spoken of directly. And yet they were bringing as charges against Justinian the very things which would naturally be encomiums for a worthy monarch, namely that he was exerting himself to make his realm larger and much more splendid. For these accusations one might make also against Cyrus, the King of the Persians, and Alexander, the Macedonian. But justice is never accustomed to dwell together with envy. For these reasons, then, Chosroes was purposing to break off the treaty. III At this same time another event also occurred; it was as follows. That Symeon who had given Pharangium into the hands of the Romans persuaded the Emperor Justinian, while the war was still at its height, to present him with certain villages of Armenia. And becoming master of these places, he was plotted against and murdered by those who had formerly possessed them. After this crime had been committed, the perpetrators of the murder fled into the land of Persia. They were two brothers, sons of Perozes. And when the Emperor heard this, he gave over the villages to Amazaspes, the nephew of Symeon, and appointed him ruler over the Armenians. This Amazaspes, as time went on, was denounced to the Emperor Justinian by one of his friends, Acacius by name, on the ground that he was abusing the Armenians and wished to give over to the Persians Theodosiopolis and certain other fortresses. After telling this, Acacius, by the emperor's will, slew Amazaspes treacherously, and himself secured the command over the Armenians by the gift of the emperor. And being base by nature, he gained the opportunity of displaying his inward character, and he proved to be the most cruel of all men toward his subjects. For he plundered their property without excuse and ordained that they should pay an unheard-of tax of four centenaria[2]. But the Armenians, unable to bear him any longer, conspired together and slew Acacius and fled for refuge to Pharangium. Therefore the emperor sent Sittas against them from Byzantium. For Sittas had been delaying there since the time when the treaty was made with the Persians. So he came to Armenia, but at first he entered upon the war reluctantly and exerted himself to calm the people and to restore the population to their former habitations, promising to persuade the emperor to remit to them the payment of the new tax. But since the emperor kept assailing him with frequent reproaches for his hesitation, led on by the slanders of Adolius, the son of Acacius, Sittas at last made his preparations for the conflict. First of all he attempted by means of promises of many good things to win over some of the Armenians by persuasion and to attach them to his cause, in order that the task of overpowering the others might be attended with less difficulty and toil. And the tribe called the Aspetiani, great in power and in numbers, was willing to join him. And they went to Sittas and begged him to give them pledges in writing that, if they abandoned their kinsmen in the battle and came to the Roman army, they should remain entirely free from harm, retaining their own possessions. Now Sittas was delighted and wrote to them in tablets, giving them pledges just as they desired of him; he then sealed the writing and sent it to them. Then, confident that by their help he would be victorious in the war without fighting, he went with his whole army to a place called Oenochalakon, where the Armenians had their camp. But by some chance those who carried the tablets went by another road and did not succeed at all in meeting the Aspetiani. Moreover a portion of the Roman army happened upon some few of them, and not knowing the agreement which had been made, treated them as enemies. And Sittas himself caught some of their women and children in a cave and slew them, either because he did not understand what had happened or because he was angry with the Aspetiani for not joining him as had been agreed. But they, being now possessed with anger, arrayed themselves for battle with all the rest. But since both armies were on exceedingly difficult ground where precipices abounded, they did not fight in one place, but scattered about among the ridges and ravines. So it happened that some few of the Armenians and Sittas with not many of his followers came close upon each other, with only a ravine lying between them. Both parties were horsemen. Then Sittas with a few men following him crossed the ravine and advanced against the enemy; the Armenians, after withdrawing to the rear, stopped, and Sittas pursued no further but remained where he was. Suddenly someone from the Roman army, an Erulian by birth, who had been pursuing the enemy, returning impetuously from them came up to Sittas and his men. Now as it happened Sittas had planted his spear in the ground; and the Erulian's horse fell upon this with a great rush and shattered it. And the general was exceedingly annoyed by this, and one of the Armenians, seeing him, recognized him and declared to all the others that it was Sittas. For it happened that he had no helmet on his head. Thus it did not escape the enemy that he had come there with only a few men. Sittas, then, upon hearing the Armenian say this, since his spear, as has been said, lay broken in two on the ground, drew his sword and attempted immediately to recross the ravine. But the enemy advanced upon him with great eagerness, and a soldier overtaking him in the ravine struck him a glancing blow with his sword on the top of his head; and he took off the whole scalp, but the steel did not injure the bone at all. And Sittas continued to press forward still more than before, but Artabanes, son of John of the Arsacidae, fell upon him from behind and with a thrust of his spear killed him. Thus Sittas was removed from the world after no notable fashion, in a manner unworthy of his valour and his continual achievements against the enemy, a man who was extremely handsome in appearance and a capable warrior, and a general second to none of his contemporaries. But some say that Sittas did not die at the hand of Artabanes, but that Solomon, a very insignificant man among the Armenians, destroyed him. After the death of Sittas the emperor commanded Bouzes to go against the Armenians; and he, upon drawing near, sent to them promising to effect a reconciliation between the emperor and all the Armenians, and asking that some of their notables should come to confer with him on these matters. Now the Armenians as a whole were unable to trust Bouzes nor were they willing to receive his proposals. But there was a certain man of the Arsacidae who was especially friendly with him, John by name, the father of Artabanes, and this man, trusting in Bouzes as his friend came to him with his son-in-law, Bassaces, and a few others; but when these men had reached the spot where they were to meet Bouzes on the following day, and had made their bivouac there, they perceived that they had come into a place surrounded by the Roman army. Bassaces, the son-in-law, therefore earnestly entreated John to fly. And since he was not able to persuade him, he left him there alone, and in company with all the others eluded the Romans, and went back again by the same road. And Bouzes found John alone and slew him; and since after this the Armenians had no hope of ever reaching an agreement with the Romans, and since they were unable to prevail over the emperor in war, they came before the Persian king led by Bassaces, an energetic man. And the leading men among them came at that time into the presence of Chosroes and spoke as follows: "Many of us, O Master, are Arsacidae, descendants of that Arsaces who was not unrelated to the Parthian kings when the Persian realm lay under the hand of the Parthians, and who proved himself an illustrious king, inferior to none of his time. Now we have come to thee, and all of us have become slaves and fugitives, not, however, of our own will, but under most hard constraint, as it might seem by reason of the Roman power, but in truth, O King, by reason of thy decision,--if, indeed, he who gives the strength to those who wish to do injustice should himself justly bear also the blame of their misdeeds. Now we shall begin our account from a little distance back in order that you may be able to follow the whole course of events. Arsaces, the last king of our ancestors, abdicated his throne willingly in favour of Theodosius, the Roman Emperor, on condition that all who should belong to his family through all time should live unhampered in every respect, and in particular should in no case be subject to taxation. And we have preserved the agreement, until you, the Persians, made this much-vaunted treaty, which, as we think, one would not err in calling a sort of common destruction. For from that time, disregarding friend and foe, he who is in name thy friend, O King, but in fact thy enemy, has turned everything in the world upside down and wrought complete confusion. And this thou thyself shalt know at no distant time, as soon as he is able to subdue completely the people of the West. For what thing which was before forbidden has he not done? or what thing which was well established has he not disturbed? Did he not ordain for us the payment of a tax which did not exist before, and has he not enslaved our neighbours, the Tzani, who were autonomous, and has he not set over the king of the wretched Lazi a Roman magistrate?--an act neither in keeping with the natural order of things nor very easy to explain in words. Has he not sent generals to the men of Bosporus, the subjects of the Huns, and attached to himself the city which in no way belongs to him, and has he not made a defensive alliance with the Aethiopian kingdoms, of which the Romans had never even heard? More than this he has made the Homeritae his possession and the Red Sea, and he is adding the Palm Groves to the Roman dominion. We omit to speak of the fate of the Libyans and of the Italians. The whole earth is not large enough for the man; it is too small a thing for him to conquer all the world together. But he is even looking about the heavens and is searching the retreats beyond the ocean, wishing to gain for himself some other world. Why, therefore, O King, dost thou still delay? Why dost thou respect that most accursed peace, in order forsooth that he may make thee the last morsel of all? If it is thy wish to learn what kind of a man Justinian would shew himself toward those who yield to him, the example is to be sought near at hand from ourselves and from the wretched Lazi; and if thou wishest to see how he is accustomed to treat those who are unknown to him and who have done him not the least wrong, consider the Vandals and the Goths and the Moors. But the chief thing has not yet been spoken. Has he not made efforts in time of peace to win over by deception thy slave, Alamoundaras, O most mighty King, and to detach him from thy kingdom, and has he not striven recently to attach to himself the Huns who are utterly unknown to him, in order to make trouble for thee? And yet an act more strange than this has not been performed in all time. For since he perceived, as I think, that the overthrow of the western world would speedily be accomplished, he has already taken in hand to assail you of the East, since the Persian power alone has been left for him to grapple with. The peace, therefore, as far as concerns him, has already been broken for thee, and he himself has set an end to the endless peace. For they break the peace, not who may be first in arms, but they who may be caught plotting against their neighbours in time of peace. For the crime has been committed by him who attempts it, even though success be lacking. Now as for the course which the war will follow, this is surely clear to everyone. For it is not those who furnish causes for war, but those who defend themselves against those who furnish them, who are accustomed always to conquer their enemies. Nay more, the contest will not be evenly matched for us even in point of strength. For, as it happens, the majority of the Roman soldiers are at the end of the world, and as for the two generals who were the best they had, we come here having slain the one, Sittas, and Belisarius will never again be seen by Justinian. For disregarding his master, he has remained in the West, holding the power of Italy himself. So that when thou goest against the enemy, no one at all will confront thee, and thou wilt have us leading the army with good will, as is natural, and with a thorough knowledge of the country." When Chosroes heard this he was pleased, and calling together all who were of noble blood among the Persians, he disclosed to all of them what Vittigis had written and what the Armenians had said, and laid before them the question as to what should be done. Then many opinions were expressed inclining to either side, but finally it was decided that they must open hostilities against the Romans at the beginning of spring. [539 A.D.] For it was the late autumn season, in the thirteenth year of the reign of the Emperor Justinian. The Romans, however, did not suspect this, nor did they think that the Persians would ever break the so-called endless peace, although they heard that Chosroes blamed their emperor for his successes in the West, and that he preferred against him the charges which I have lately mentioned. IV [539 A.D.] At that time also the comet appeared, at first about as long as a tall man, but later much larger. And the end of it was toward the west and its beginning toward the east, and it followed behind the sun itself. For the sun was in Capricorn and it was in Sagittarius. And some called it "the swordfish" because it was of goodly length and very sharp at the point, and others called it "the bearded star"; it was seen for more than forty days. Now those who were wise in these matters disagreed utterly with each other, and one announced that one thing, another that another thing was indicated by this star; but I only write what took place and I leave to each one to judge by the outcome as he wishes. Straightway a mighty Hunnic army crossing the Danube River fell as a scourge upon all Europe, a thing which had happened many times before, but which had never brought such a multitude of woes nor such dreadful ones to the people of that land. For from the Ionian Gulf these barbarians plundered everything in order as far as the suburbs of Byzantium. And they captured thirty-two fortresses in Illyricum, and they carried by storm the city of Cassandria (which the ancients called Potidaea, as far as we know), never having fought against walls before. And taking with them the money and leading away one hundred and twenty thousand captives, they all retired homeward without encountering any opposition. In later times too they often came there and brought upon the Romans irreparable calamity. This same people also assailed the wall of the Chersonesus, where they overpowered those who were defending themselves from the wall, and approaching through the surf of the sea, scaled the fortifications on the so-called Black Gulf; thus they got within the long wall, and falling unexpectedly upon the Romans in the Chersonesus they slew many of them and made prisoners of almost all the survivors. Some few of them also crossed the strait between Sestus and Abydus, and after plundering the Asiatic country, they returned again to the Chersonesus, and with the rest of the army and all the booty betook themselves to their homes. In another invasion they plundered Illyricum and Thessaly and attempted to storm the wall at Thermopylae; and since the guards on the walls defended them most valiantly, they sought out the ways around and unexpectedly found the path which leads up the mountain which rises there[3]. In this way they destroyed almost all the Greeks except the Peloponnesians, and then withdrew. And the Persians not long afterwards broke off the treaty and wrought such harm to the Romans of the East as I shall set forth immediately. Belisarius, after humbling Vittigis, the king of the Goths and Italians, brought him alive to Byzantium. And I shall now proceed to tell how the army of the Persians invaded the land of the Romans. When the Emperor Justinian perceived that Chosroes was eager for war, he wished to offer him some counsel and to dissuade him from the undertaking. Now it happened that a certain man had come to Byzantium from the city of Daras, Anastasius by name, well known for his sagacity; he it was who had broken the tyranny which had been established recently in Daras. Justinian therefore wrote a letter and sent it by this Anastasius to Chosroes; and the message of the letter was as follows: "It is the part of men of discretion and those by whom divine things are treated with due respect, when causes of war arise, and in particular against men who are in the truest sense friends, to exert all their power to put an end to them; but it belongs to foolish men and those who most lightly bring on themselves the enmity of Heaven to devise occasions for war and insurrection which have no real existence. Now to destroy peace and enter upon war is not a difficult matter, since the nature of things is such as to make the basest activities easy for the most dishonourable men. But when they have brought about war according to their intention, to return again to peace is for men, I think, not easy. And yet thou chargest me with writing letters which were not written with any dark purpose, and thou hast now made haste to interpret these with arbitrary judgment, not in the sense in which we conceived them when we wrote them, but in a way which will be of advantage to thee in thy eagerness to carry out thy plans not without some pretext. But for us it is possible to point out that thy Alamoundaras recently overran our land and performed outrageous deeds in time of peace, to wit, the capture of towns, the seizure of property, the massacre and enslavement of such a multitude of men, concerning which it will be thy duty not to blame us, but to defend thyself. For the crimes of those who have done wrong are made manifest to their neighbours by their acts, not by their thoughts. But even with these things as they are, we have still decided to hold to peace, but we hear that thou in thy eagerness to make war upon the Romans art fabricating accusations which do not belong to us at all. Natural enough, this; for while those who are eager to preserve the present order of things repel even those charges against their friends which are most pressing, those who are not satisfied with established friendships exert themselves to provide even pretexts which do not exist. But this would not seem to be becoming even to ordinary men, much less to kings. But leaving aside these things do thou consider the number of those who will be destroyed on both sides in the course of the war, and consider well who will justly bear the blame for those things which will come to pass, and ponder upon the oaths which thou didst take when thou didst carry away the money, and consider that if, after that, thou wrongly dishonour them by some tricks or sophistries, thou wouldst not be able to pervert them; for Heaven is too mighty to be deceived by any man." When Chosroes saw this message, he neither made any immediate answer nor did he dismiss Anastasius, but he compelled him to remain there. V [540 A.D.] When the winter was already reaching its close, and the thirteenth year of the reign of the Emperor Justinian was ending, Chosroes, son of Cabades, invaded the land of the Romans at the opening of spring with a mighty army, and openly broke the so-called endless peace. But he did not enter by the country between the rivers, but advanced with the Euphrates on his right. On the other side of the river stands the last Roman stronghold which is called Circesium, an exceedingly strong place, since the River Aborras, a large stream, has its mouth at this point and mingles with the Euphrates, and this fortress lies exactly in the angle which is made by the junction of the two rivers. And a long second wall outside the fortress cuts off the land between the two rivers, and completes the form of a triangle around Circesium. Chosroes, therefore, not wishing to make trial of so strong a fortress and not having in mind to cross the River Euphrates, but rather to go against the Syrians and Cilicians, without any hesitation led his army forward, and after advancing for what, to an unencumbered traveller, is about a three-days' journey along the bank of the Euphrates, he came upon the city of Zenobia; this place Zenobia had built in former times, and, as was natural, she gave her name to the city. Now Zenobia was the wife of Odonathus, the ruler of the Saracens of that region, who had been on terms of peace with the Romans from of old. This Odonathus rescued for the Romans the Eastern Empire when it had come under the power of the Medes; but this took place in former times. Chosroes then came near to Zenobia, but upon learning that the place was not important and observing that the land was untenanted and destitute of all good things, he feared lest any time spent by him there would be wasted on an affair of no consequence and would be a hindrance to great undertakings, and he attempted to force the place to surrender. But meeting with no success, he hastened his march forward. After again accomplishing a journey of equal extent, he reached the city of Sura, which is on the River Euphrates, and stopped very close to it. There it happened that the horse on which Chosroes was riding neighed and stamped the ground with his foot. And the Magi considered the meaning of this incident and announced that the place would be captured. Chosroes then made camp and led his army against the fortifications to assail the wall. Now it happened that a certain Arsaces, an Armenian by birth, was commander of the soldiers in the town; and he made the soldiers mount the parapets, and fighting from there most valiantly slew many of the enemy, but was himself struck by an arrow and died. And then, since it was late in the day, the Persians retired to their camp in order to assail the wall again on the following day; but the Romans were in despair since their leader was dead, and were purposing to make themselves suppliants of Chosroes. On the following day, therefore, they sent the bishop of the city to plead for them and to beg that the town be spared; so he took with him some of his attendants, who carried fowls and wine and clean loaves, and came before Chosroes; there he threw himself on the ground, and with tears supplicated him to spare a pitiable population and a city altogether without honour in the eyes of the Romans, and one which in past times had never been of any account to the Persians, and which never would be such thereafter; and he promised that the men of Sura would give him ransom worthy of themselves and the city which they inhabited. But Chosroes was angry with the townsmen because, being the first he had met of all the Romans, they had not willingly received him into their city, but even daring to raise their arms against him had slain a large number of Persian notables. However he did not disclose his anger, but carefully concealed it behind a smooth countenance, in order that by carrying out the punishment of the inhabitants of Sura he might make himself in the eyes of the Romans a fearful person and one not to be resisted. For by acting in this way he calculated that those who would from time to time come in his way would yield to him without trouble. Accordingly with great friendliness he caused the bishop to rise, and receiving the gifts, gave the impression, in a way, that he would immediately confer with the notables of the Persians concerning the ransom of the townsmen, and would settle their request favourably. Thus he dismissed the bishop and his following without any suspicion of the plot, and he sent with him certain of the men of note among the Persians, who were to be ostensibly an escort. These men he secretly commanded to go with him as far as the wall, encouraging him and cheering him with fair hopes, so that he and all those with him should be seen by those inside rejoicing and fearing nothing. But when the guards had set the gate open and were about to receive them into the city, they were to throw a stone or block of wood between the threshold and the gate and not allow them to shut it, but should themselves for a time stand in the way of those who wished to close it; for not long afterwards the army would follow them. After giving these directions to the men Chosroes made ready the army, and commanded them to advance upon the city on the run whenever he should give the signal. So when they came close to the fortifications, the Persians bade farewell to the bishop and remained outside, and the townsmen, seeing that the man was exceedingly happy and that he was being escorted in great honour by the enemy, forgetting all their difficulties opened the gate wide, and received the priest and his following with clapping of hands and much shouting. And when all got inside, the guards began to push the gate in order to close it, but the Persians flung down a stone, which they had provided, between it and the threshold. And the guards pushed and struggled still more, but were quite unable to get the gate back to the threshold. On the other hand they dared not open it again, since they perceived that it was held by the enemy. But some say that it was not a stone but a block of wood which the Persians threw into the gateway. When the townsmen had as yet scarcely realized the plot, Chosroes was at hand with his whole army, and the barbarians forced back and flung open the gate, which was soon carried by storm. Straightway, then, Chosroes, filled with wrath, plundered the houses and put to death great numbers of the population; all the remainder he reduced to slavery, and setting fire to the whole city razed it to the ground. Then he dismissed Anastasius, bidding him announce to the Emperor Justinian where in the world he had left Chosroes, son of Cabades. Afterwards either through motives of humanity or of avarice, or as granting a favour to a woman whom he had taken as a captive from the city, Euphemia by name, Chosroes decided to shew some kindness to the inhabitants of Sura; for he had conceived for this woman an extraordinary love (for she was exceedingly beautiful to look upon), and had made her his wedded wife. He sent, accordingly, to Sergiopolis, a city subject to the Romans, named from Sergius, a famous saint, distant from the captured city one hundred and twenty-six stades and lying to the south of it in the so-called Barbarian Plain, and bade Candidus, the bishop of the city, purchase the captives, twelve thousand in number, for two centenaria. But the bishop, alleging that he had no money, refused absolutely to undertake the matter. Chosroes therefore requested him to set down in a document the agreement that he would give the money at a later time, and thus to purchase for a small sum such a multitude of slaves. Candidus did as directed, promising to give the money within a year, and swore the most dire oaths, specifying that he should receive the following punishment if he should not give the money at the time agreed upon, that he should pay double the amount and should himself be no longer a priest, as one who had neglected his sworn promise. And after setting down these things in writing, Candidus received all the inhabitants of Sura. And some few among them survived, but the majority, unable to support the misery which had fallen to their lot, succumbed soon afterwards. After the settlement of this affair Chosroes led his army forward. VI It had happened a little before this that the emperor had divided into two parts the military command of the East, leaving the portion as far as the River Euphrates under the control of Belisarius who formerly held the command of the whole, while the portion from there as far as the Persian boundary he entrusted to Bouzes, commanding him to take charge of the whole territory of the East until Belisarius should return from Italy. Bouzes therefore at first remained at Hierapolis, keeping his whole army with him; but when he learned what had befallen Sura, he called together the first men of the Hierapolitans and spoke as follows: "Whenever men are confronted with a struggle against an assailant with whom they are evenly matched in strength, it is not at all unreasonable that they should engage in open conflict with the enemy; but for those who are by comparison much inferior to their opponents it will be more advantageous to circumvent their enemy by some kind of tricks than to array themselves openly against them and thus enter into foreseen danger. How great, now, the army of Chosroes is you are assuredly informed. And if, with this army, he wishes to capture us by siege, and if we carry on the fight from the wall, it is probable that, while our supplies will fail us, the Persians will secure all they need from our land, where there will be no one to oppose them. And if the siege is prolonged in this way, I believe too that the fortification wall will not withstand the assaults of the enemy, for in many places it is most susceptible to attack, and thus irreparable harm will come to the Romans. But if with a portion of the army we guard the wall of the city, while the rest of us occupy the heights about the city, we shall make attacks from there at times upon the camp of our antagonists, and at times upon those who are sent out for the sake of provisions, and thus compel Chosroes to abandon the siege immediately and to make his retreat within a short time; for he will not be at all able to direct his attack without fear against the fortifications, nor to provide any of the necessities for so great an army." So spoke Bouzes; and in his words he seemed to set forth the advantageous course of action, but of what was necessary he did nothing. For he chose out all that portion of the Roman army which was of marked excellence and was off. And where in the world he was neither any of the Romans in Hierapolis, nor the hostile army was able to learn. Such, then, was the course of these events. But the Emperor Justinian, upon learning of the inroad of the Persians, immediately sent his nephew Germanus with three hundred followers in great disorder, promising that after no great time a numerous army would follow. And Germanus, upon reaching Antioch, went around the whole circuit of the wall; and the greater part of it he found secure, for along that portion of it which lies on the level ground the River Orontes flows, making it everywhere difficult of access, and the portion which is on higher ground rises upon steep hills and is quite inaccessible to the enemy; but when he attained the highest point, which the men of that place are accustomed to call Orocasias, he noticed that the wall at that point was very easy to assail. For there happens to be in that place a rock, which spreads out to a very considerable width, and rises to a height only a little less than the fortifications. He therefore commanded that they should either cut off the rock by making a deep ditch along the wall, lest anyone should essay to mount from there upon the fortifications, or that they should build upon it a great tower and connect its structure with the wall of the city. But to the architects of public buildings it seemed that neither one of these things should be done. For, as they said, the work would not be completed in a short time with the attack of the enemy so imminent, while if they began this work and did not carry it to completion, they would do nothing else than shew to the enemy at what point in the wall they should make their attack. Germanus, though disappointed in this plan, had some hope at first because he expected an army from Byzantium. But when, after considerable time had passed, no army arrived from the emperor nor was expected to arrive, he began to fear lest Chosroes, learning that the emperor's nephew was there, would consider it more important than any other thing to capture Antioch and himself, and for this reason would neglect everything else and come against the city with his whole army. The natives of Antioch also had these things in mind, and they held a council concerning them, at which it seemed most advisable to offer money to Chosroes and thus escape the present danger. Accordingly they sent Megas, the bishop of Beroea, a man of discretion who at that time happened to be tarrying among them, to beg for mercy from Chosroes; and departing from there he came upon the Median army not far from Hierapolis. And coming into the presence of Chosroes, he entreated him earnestly to have pity upon men who had committed no offence against him and who were not able to hold out against the Persian army. For it was becoming to a king least of all men to trample upon and do violence to those who retreated before him and were quite unwilling to array themselves against him; for not one of the things which he was then doing was a kingly or honourable act, because, without affording any time for consideration to the Roman emperor, so that he might either make the peace secure as might seem well to both sovereigns, or make his preparations for war in accordance with a mutual agreement, as was to be expected, he had thus recklessly advanced in arms against the Romans, while their emperor did not as yet know what had come upon them. When Chosroes heard this, he was utterly unable by reason of his stupidity to order his mind with reason and discretion, but still more than before he was lifted up in spirit. He therefore threatened to destroy all the Syrians and Cilicians, and bidding Megas follow him, he led his army to Hierapolis. When he had come there and established his camp, since he saw that the fortifications were strong and learned that the city was well garrisoned with soldiers, he demanded money from the Hierapolitans, sending to them Paulus as interpreter. This Paulus had been reared in Roman territory and had gone to an elementary school in Antioch, and besides he was said to be by birth of Roman extraction. But in spite of everything the inhabitants were exceedingly fearful for the fortifications, which embraced a large tract of land as far as the hill which rises there, and besides they wished to preserve their land unplundered; accordingly they agreed to give two thousand pounds of silver. Then indeed Megas entreated Chosroes in behalf of all the inhabitants of the East, and would not cease his entreaty, until Chosroes promised him that he would accept ten centenaria of gold and depart from the whole Roman empire. VII Thus, then, on that day Megas departed thence and went on the way to Antioch, while Chosroes after receiving the ransom was moving toward Beroea. This city lies between Antioch and Hierapolis, at a distance from both of two-days' journey for an unencumbered traveller. Now while Megas, who travelled with a small company, advanced very quickly, the Persian army was accomplishing only one half of the distance which he travelled each day. And so on the fourth day he reached Antioch, while the Persians came to the suburb of Beroea. And Chosroes immediately sent Paulus and demanded money of the Beroeans, not only as much as he had received from the Hierapolitans, but double the amount, since he saw that their wall in many places was very vulnerable. As for the Beroeans, since they could by no means place confidence in their fortifications, they gladly agreed to give all, but after giving two thousand pounds of silver, they said that they were not able to give the remainder. And since Chosroes pressed them on this account, on the following night all of them fled for refuge into the fortress which is on the acropolis together with the soldiers who had been stationed there to guard the place. And on the following day men were sent to the city by Chosroes in order to receive the money; but on coming near the fortifications they found all the gates closed, and being unable to discover any man, they reported the situation to the king. And he commanded them to set ladders against the wall and to make trial of mounting it, and they did as directed. Then since no one opposed them, they got inside the fortifications and opened the gates at their leisure, and received into the city the whole army and Chosroes himself. By this time the king was furious with anger and he fired nearly the whole city. He then mounted the acropolis and decided to storm the fortress. There indeed the Roman soldiers while valiantly defending themselves slew some of the enemy; but Chosroes was greatly favoured by fortune by reason of the folly of the besieged, who had not sought refuge in this fortress by themselves, but along with all their horses and other animals, and by this inconsiderate act they were placed at a great disadvantage and began to be in danger. For since there was only one spring there and the horses and mules and other animals drank from it when they should not have done so, it came about that the water was exhausted. Such, then, was the situation of the Beroeans. Megas, upon reaching Antioch and announcing the terms arranged by him with Chosroes, failed utterly to persuade them to carry out this agreement. For it happened that the Emperor Justinian had sent John, the son of Rufinus, and Julian, his private[4] secretary, as ambassadors to Chosroes. The person holding this office is styled "a secretis" by the Romans; for secrets they are accustomed to call "secreta." These men had reached Antioch and were remaining there. Now Julian, one of the ambassadors, explicitly forbade everybody to give money to the enemy, or to purchase the cities of the emperor, and besides he denounced to Germanus the chief priest Ephraemius, as being eager to deliver over the city to Chosroes. For this reason Megas returned unsuccessful. But Ephraemius, the bishop of Antioch, fearing the attack of the Persians, went into Cilicia. There too came Germanus not long afterwards, taking with him some few men but leaving the most of them in Antioch. Megas then came in haste to Beroea, and in vexation at what had taken place, he charged Chosroes with having treated the Beroeans outrageously; for while, as it seemed, he had sent him to Antioch to arrange the treaty, he had both plundered the property of the citizens, though they had committed no wrong at all, and had compelled them to shut themselves up in that fortress, and had then set fire to the city and razed it to the ground in defiance of right. To this Chosroes replied as follows: "Verily, my friend, you yourself are responsible for these things, in having compelled us to delay here; for as it is, you have arrived, not at the appointed time, but far behind it. And as for the strange conduct of your fellow-citizens, my most excellent sir, why should one make speeches of great length? For after agreeing to give us a fixed amount of silver for their own safety, they even now do not think it necessary to fulfil the agreement, but placing such complete confidence in the strength of their position, they are disregarding us absolutely, while we are compelled to undertake the siege of a fortress, as you surely see. But for my part, I have hope that with the help of the gods I shall have vengeance upon them shortly, and execute upon the guilty the punishment for the Persians whom I have lost wrongfully before this wall." So spoke Chosroes, and Megas replied as follows: "If one should consider that as king thou art making these charges against men who are in pitiable and most dishonoured plight, he would be compelled without a word of protest to agree with what thou hast said; for authority which is unlimited is bound by its very nature to carry with it also supremacy in argument; but if one be permitted to shake off all else and to espouse the truth of the matter, thou wouldst have, O King, nothing with which justly to reproach us; but mayst thou hear all mildly. First, as for me, since the time when I was sent to declare to the men of Antioch the message which thou didst send them, seven days have passed (and what could be done more quickly than this?) and now coming into thy presence I find these things accomplished by thee against my fatherland; but these men, having already lost all that is most valuable, thereafter have only one struggle to engage in--that for life--and have come, I think, so to be masters of the situation that they can no longer be compelled to pay thee any of the money. For to pay a thing which one does not possess could not be made possible for a man by any device. From of old indeed have the names of things been well and suitably distinguished by men; and among these distinctions is this, that want of power is separated from want of consideration. For when the latter by reason of intemperance of mind proceeds to resistance, it is accustomed to be detested, as is natural, but when the former, because of the impossibility of performing a service, is driven to the same point, it deserves to be pitied. Permit, therefore, O King, that, while we receive as our portion all the direst misfortunes, we may take with us this consolation at least, that we should not seem to have been ourselves responsible for the things which have befallen us. And as for money, consider that what thou hast taken into thy possession is sufficient for thee, not weighing this by thy position, but with regard to the power of the Beroeans. But beyond this do not force us in any way, lest perchance thou shouldst seem unable to accomplish the thing to which thou hast set thy hand; for excess is always punished by meeting obstacles that cannot be overcome, and the best course is not to essay the impossible. Let this, then, be my defence for the moment in behalf of these men. But if I should be able to have converse with the sufferers, I should have something else also to say which has now escaped me." So spoke Megas, and Chosroes permitted him to go into the acropolis. And when he had gone there and learned all that had happened concerning the spring, weeping he came again before Chosroes, and lying prone on the ground insisted that no money at all was left to the Beroeans, and entreated him to grant him only the lives of the men. Moved by the tearful entreaties of the man Chosroes fulfilled his request, and binding himself by an oath, gave pledges to all on the acropolis. Then the Beroeans, after coming into such great danger, left the acropolis free from harm, and departing went each his own way. Among the soldiers some few followed them, but the majority came as willing deserters to Chosroes, putting forth as their grievance that the government owed them their pay for a long time; and with him they later went into the land of Persia. VIII [June 540 A.D.] Then Chosroes (since Megas said that he had by no means persuaded the inhabitants of Antioch to bring him the money) went with his whole army against them. Some of the population of Antioch thereupon departed from there with their money and fled as each one could. And all the rest likewise were purposing to do the same thing, and would have done so had not the commanders of the troops in Lebanon, Theoctistus and Molatzes, who arrived in the meantime with six thousand men, fortified them with hope and thus prevented their departure. Not long after this the Persian army also came. There they all pitched their tents and made camp fronting on the River Orontes and not very far from the stream. Chosroes then sent Paulus up beside the fortifications and demanded money from the men of Antioch, saying that for ten centenaria[5] of gold he would depart from there, and it was obvious that he would accept even less than this for his withdrawal. And on that day their ambassadors went before Chosroes, and after speaking at length concerning the breaking of the peace and hearing much from him, they retired. But on the morrow the populace of Antioch (for they are not seriously disposed, but are always engaged in jesting and disorderly performance) heaped insults upon Chosroes from the battlements and taunted him with unseemly laughter; and when Paulus came near the fortifications and exhorted them to purchase freedom for themselves and the city for a small sum of money, they very nearly killed him with shots from their bows, and would have done so if he had not seen their purpose in time and guarded against it. On account of this Chosroes, boiling with anger, decided to storm the wall. On the following day, accordingly, he led up all the Persians against the wall and commanded a portion of the army to make assaults at different points along the river, and he himself with the most of the men and best troops directed an attack against the height. For at this place, as has been stated by me above, the wall of fortification was most vulnerable. Thereupon the Romans, since the structure on which they were to stand when fighting was very narrow, devised the following remedy. Binding together long timbers they suspended them between the towers, and in this way they made these spaces much broader, in order that still more men might be able to ward off the assailants from there. So the Persians, pressing on most vigorously from all sides, were sending their arrows thickly everywhere, and especially along the crest of the hill. Meanwhile the Romans were fighting them back with all their strength, not soldiers alone, but also many of the most courageous youths of the populace. But it appeared that those who were attacking the wall there were engaged in a battle on even terms with their enemy. For the rock which was broad and high and, as it were, drawn up against the fortifications caused the conflict to be just as if on level ground. And if anyone of the Roman army had had the courage to get outside the fortifications with three hundred men and to anticipate the enemy in seizing this rock and to ward off the assailants from there, never, I believe, would the city have come into any danger from the enemy. For the barbarians had no point from which they could have conducted their assault, for they would be exposed to missiles from above both from the rock and from the wall; but as it was (for it was fated that Antioch be destroyed by this army of the Medes), this idea occurred to no one. So then while the Persians were fighting beyond their power, since Chosroes was present with them and urging them on with a mighty cry, giving their opponents not a moment in which to look about or guard against the missiles discharged from their bows, and while the Romans, in great numbers and with much shouting, were defending themselves still more vigorously, the ropes with which the beams had been bound together, failing to support the weight, suddenly broke asunder and the timbers together with all those who had taken their stand on them fell to the ground with a mighty crash. When this was heard by other Romans also, who were fighting from the adjoining towers, being utterly unable to comprehend what had happened, but supposing that the wall at this point had been destroyed, they beat a hasty retreat. Now many young men of the populace who in former times had been accustomed to engage in factional strife with each other in the hippodromes descended into the city from the fortification wall, but they refused to flee and remained where they were, while the soldiers with Theoctistus and Molatzes straightway leaped upon the horses which happened to be ready there and rode away to the gates, telling the others a tale to the effect that Bouzes had come with an army and they wished to receive them quickly into the city, and with them to ward off the enemy. Thereupon many of the men of Antioch and all the women with their children made a great rush toward the gates; but since they were crowded by the horses, being in very narrow quarters, they began to fall down. The soldiers, however, sparing absolutely no one of those before them, all kept riding over the fallen still more fiercely than before, and a great many were killed there, especially about the gates themselves. But the Persians, with no one opposing them, set ladders against the wall and mounted with no difficulty. And quickly reaching the battlements, for a time they were by no means willing to descend, but they seemed like men looking about them and at a loss what to do, because, as it seems to me, they supposed that the rough ground was beset with some ambuscades of the enemy. For the land inside the fortifications which one traverses immediately upon descending from the height is an uninhabited tract extending for a great distance and there are found there rocks which rise to a very great height, and steep places. But some say that it was by the will of Chosroes that the Persians hesitated. For when he observed the difficulty of the ground and saw the soldiers fleeing, he feared lest by reason of some necessity they should turn back from their retreat and make trouble for the Persians, and thus become an obstacle, as might well happen, in the way of his capturing a city which was both ancient and of great importance and the first of all the cities which the Romans had throughout the East both in wealth and in size and in population and in beauty and in prosperity of every kind. Hence it was that, considering everything else of less account, he wished to allow the Roman soldiers freely to avail themselves of the chance for flight. For this reason too the Persians also made signs to the fugitives with their hands, urging them to flee as quickly as possible. So the soldiers of the Romans together with their commanders took a hasty departure, all of them, through the gate which leads to Daphne, the suburb of Antioch; for from this gate alone the Persians kept away while the others were seized; and of the populace some few escaped with the soldiers. Then when the Persians saw that all the Roman soldiers had gone on, they descended from the height and got into the middle of the city. There, however, many of the young men of Antioch engaged in battle with them, and at first they seemed to have the upper hand in the conflict. Some of them were in heavy armour, but the majority were unarmed and using only stones as missiles. And pushing back the enemy they raised the paean, and with shouts proclaimed the Emperor Justinian triumphant, as if they had won the victory. At this point Chosroes, seated on the tower which is on the height, summoned the ambassadors, wishing to say something. And one of his officers, Zaberganes, thinking that he wished to have words with the ambassadors concerning a settlement, came quickly before the king and spoke as follows: "Thou dost not seem to me, O Master, to think in the same way as do the Romans concerning the safety of these men. For they both before fighting offer insults to thy kingdom, and when they are defeated dare the impossible and do the Persians irreparable harm, as if fearing lest some reason for shewing them humanity should be left in thee; but thou art wishing to pity those who do not ask to be saved, and hast shewn zeal to spare those who by no means wish it. Meanwhile these men have set an ambush in a captured city and are destroying the victors by means of snares, although all the soldiers have long since fled from them." When Chosroes heard this, he sent a large number of the best troops against them, and these not long afterwards returned and announced that nothing untoward had come to pass. For already the Persians had forced back the citizens by their numbers and turned them to flight, and a great slaughter took place there. For the Persians did not spare persons of any age and were slaying all whom they met, old and young alike. At that time they say that two women of those who were illustrious in Antioch got outside the fortifications, but perceiving that they would fall into the hands of the enemy (for they were already plainly seen going about everywhere), went running to the River Orontes, and, fearing lest the Persians should do them some insult, they covered their faces with their veils and threw themselves into the river's current and were carried out of sight. Thus the inhabitants of Antioch were visited with every form of misfortune. IX Then Chosroes spoke to the ambassadors as follows: "Not far from the truth, I think, is the ancient saying that God does not give blessings unmixed, but He mingles them with troubles and then bestows them upon men. And for this reason we do not even have laughter without tears, but there is always attached to our successes some misfortune, and to our pleasures pain, not permitting anyone to enjoy in its purity such good fortune as is granted. For this city, which is of altogether preeminent importance in fact as well as in name in the land of the Romans I have indeed succeeded in capturing with the least exertion, since God has provided the victory all at once for us, as you doubtless see. But when I behold the massacre of such a multitude of men, and the victory thus drenched with blood, there arises in me no sense of the delight that should follow my achievement. And for this the wretched men of Antioch are to blame, for when the Persians were storming the wall they did not prove able to keep them back, and then when they had already triumphed and had captured the city at the first cry these men with unreasoned daring sought to die fighting against them in close combat. So while all the notables of the Persians were harassing me unceasingly with their demand that I should drag the city as with a net and destroy all the captives, I was commanding the fugitives to press on still more in their flight, in order that they might save themselves as quickly as possible. For to trample upon captives is not holy." Such high-sounding and airy words did Chosroes speak to the ambassadors, but nevertheless it did not escape them why he gave time to the Romans in their flight. For he was the cleverest of all men at saying that which was not, and in concealing the truth, and in attributing the blame for the wrongs which he committed to those who suffered the wrong; besides he was ready to agree to everything and to pledge the agreement with an oath, and much more ready to forget completely the things lately agreed to and sworn to by him, and for the sake of money to debase his soul without reluctance to every act of pollution--a past master at feigning piety in his countenance, and absolving himself in words from the responsibility of the act. This man well displayed his own peculiar character on a certain occasion at Sura; for after he had hoodwinked the inhabitants of the city by a trick and had destroyed them in the manner which I have described, although they had previously done him no wrong at all, he saw, while the city was being captured, a comely woman and one not of lowly station being dragged by her left hand with great violence by one of the barbarians; and the child, which she had only lately weaned, she was unwilling to let go, but was dragging it with her other hand, fallen, as it was, to the ground since it was not able to keep pace with that violent running. And they say that he uttered a pretended groan, and making it appear to all who were present at that time including Anastasius the ambassador that he was all in tears, he prayed God to exact vengeance from the man who was guilty of the troubles which had come to pass. Now Justinian, the Emperor of the Romans, was the one whom he wished to have understood, though he knew well that he himself was most responsible for everything. Endowed with such a singular nature Chosroes both became King of the Persians (for ill fortune had deprived Zames of his eye, he who in point of years had first right to the kingdom, at any rate after Caoses, whom Cabades for no good reason hated), and with no difficulty he conquered those who revolted against him, and all the harm which he purposed to do the Romans he accomplished easily. For every time when Fortune wishes to make a man great, she does at the fitting times those things which she has decided upon, with no one standing against the force of her will; and she neither regards the man's station, nor purposes to prevent the occurrence of things which ought not to be, nor does she give heed that many will blaspheme against her because of these things, mocking scornfully at that which has been done by her contrary to the deserts of the man who receives her favour; nor does she take into consideration anything else at all, if only she accomplish the thing which has been decided upon by her. But as for these matters, let them be as God wishes. Chosroes commanded the army to capture and enslave the survivors of the population of Antioch, and to plunder all the property, while he himself with the ambassadors descended from the height to the sanctuary which they call a church. There Chosroes found stores of gold and silver so great in amount that, though he took no other part of the booty except these stores, he departed possessed of enormous wealth. And he took down from there many wonderful marbles and ordered them to be deposited outside the fortifications, in order that they might convey these too to the land of Persia. When he had finished these things, he gave orders to the Persians to burn the whole city. And the ambassadors begged him to withhold his hand only from the church, for which he had carried away ransom in abundance. This he granted to the ambassadors, but gave orders to burn everything else; then, leaving there a few men who were to fire the city, he himself with all the rest retired to the camp where they had previously set up their tents. X A short time before this calamity God displayed a sign to the inhabitants of that city, by which He indicated the things which were to be. For the standards of the soldiers who had been stationed there for a long time had been standing previously toward the west, but of their own accord they turned and stood toward the east, and then returned again to their former position untouched by anyone. This the soldiers shewed to many who were near at hand and among them the manager of finances in the camp, while the standards were still trembling. This man, Tatianus by name, was an especially discreet person, a native of Mopsuestia. But even so those who saw this sign did not recognize that the mastery of the place would pass from the western to the eastern king, in order, evidently, that escape might be utterly impossible for those who were bound to suffer those things which came to pass. But I become dizzy as I write of such a great calamity and transmit it to future times, and I am unable to understand why indeed it should be the will of God to exalt on high the fortunes of a man or of a place, and then to cast them down and destroy them for no cause which appears to us. For it is wrong to say that with Him all things are not always done with reason, though he then endured to see Antioch brought down to the ground at the hands of a most unholy man, a city whose beauty and grandeur in every respect could not even so be utterly concealed. So, then, after the city had been destroyed, the church was left solitary, thanks to the activity and foresight of the Persians to whom this work was assigned. And there were also left about the so-called Cerataeum many houses, not because of the foresight of any man, but, since they were situated at the extremity of the city, and not connected with any other building, the fire failed entirely to reach them. The barbarians burned also the parts outside the fortifications, except the sanctuary which is dedicated to St. Julianus and the houses which stand about this sanctuary. For it happened that the ambassadors had taken up their lodgings there. As for the fortifications, the Persians left them wholly untouched. A little later the ambassadors again came to Chosroes and spoke as follows: "If our words were not addressed to thee in thy presence, O King, we should never believe that Chosroes, the son of Cabades, had come into the land of the Romans in arms, dishonouring the oaths which have recently been sworn by thee--for such pledges are regarded as the last and most firm security of all things among men to guarantee mutual trust and truthfulness--and breaking the treaty, though hope in treaties is the only thing left to those who are living in insecurity because of the evil deeds of war. For one might say of such a state of affairs that it is nothing else than the transformation of the habits of men into those of beasts. For in a time when no treaties at all are made, there will remain certainly war without end, and war which has no end is always calculated to estrange from their proper nature those who engage in it. With what intent, moreover, didst thou write to thy brother not long ago that he himself was responsible for the breaking of the treaty? Was it not obviously with the admission that the breaking of treaties is an exceedingly great evil? If therefore he has done no wrong, thou art not acting justly now in coming against us; but if it happen that thy brother has done any such thing, yet let thy complaint have its fulfilment thus far, and go no farther, that thou mayst shew thyself superior. For he who submits to be worsted in evil things would in better things justly be victorious. And yet we know well that the Emperor Justinian has never gone contrary to the treaty, and we entreat thee not to do the Romans such harm, from which there will be no advantage to the Persians, and thou wilt gain only this, that thou wilt have wrongfully wrought deeds of irreparable harm upon those who have recently made peace with thee." So spoke the ambassadors. And Chosroes, upon hearing this, insisted that the treaty had been broken by the Emperor Justinian; and he enumerated the causes of war which the Emperor afforded, some of them of real importance and others idle and fabricated without any reason; most of all he wished to shew that the letters written by him to Alamoundaras and the Huns were the chief cause of the war, just as I have stated above[6]. But as for any Roman who had invaded the land of Persia, or who had made a display of warlike deeds, he was unable either to mention or to point out such a one. The ambassadors, however, referred the charges in part not to Justinian but to certain of those who had served him, while in the case of others they took exception to what he had said on the ground that the things had not taken place as stated. Finally Chosroes made the demand that the Romans give him a large sum of money, but he warned them not to hope to establish peace for all time by giving money at that moment only. For friendship, he said, which is made by men on terms of money is generally spent as fast as the money is used up. It was necessary, therefore, that the Romans should pay some definite annual sum to the Persians. "For thus," he said, "the Persians will keep the peace secure for them, guarding the Caspian Gates themselves and no longer feeling resentment at them on account of the city of Daras, in return for which the Persians themselves will be in their pay forever." "So," said the ambassadors, "the Persians desire to have the Romans subject and tributary to themselves." "No," said Chosroes, "but the Romans will have the Persians as their own soldiers for the future, dispensing to them a fixed payment for their service; for you give an annual payment of gold to some of the Huns and to the Saracens, not as tributary subjects to them, but in order that they may guard your land unplundered for all time." After Chosroes and the ambassadors had spoken thus at length with each other, they at last came to terms, agreeing that Chosroes should forthwith take from the Romans fifty centenaria[7], and that, receiving a tribute of five more centenaria annually for all time, he should do them no further harm, but taking with him hostages from the ambassadors to pledge the keeping of the agreement, should make his departure with the whole army to his native land, and that there ambassadors sent from the Emperor Justinian should arrange on a firm basis for the future the compact regarding the peace. XI Then Chosroes went to Seleucia, a city on the sea, one hundred and thirty stades distant from Antioch; and there he neither met nor harmed a single Roman, and he bathed himself alone in the sea-water, and after sacrificing to the sun and such other divinities as he wished, and calling upon the gods many times, he went back. And when he came to the camp, he said that he had a desire to see the city of Apamea which was in the vicinity for no other reason than that of his interest in the place. And the ambassadors unwillingly granted this also, but only on condition that after seeing the city and taking away with him from there one thousand pounds of silver, he should, without inflicting any further injury, march back. But it was evident to the ambassadors and to all the others that Chosroes was setting out for Apamea with this sole purpose, that he might lay hold upon some pretext of no importance and plunder both the city and the land thereabout. Accordingly he first went up to Daphne, the suburb of Antioch, where he expressed great wonder at the grove and at the fountains of water; for both of these are very well worth seeing. And after sacrificing to the nymphs he departed, doing no further damage than burning the sanctuary of the archangel Michael together with certain other buildings, for the following reason. A Persian gentleman of high repute in the army of the Persians and well known to Chosroes, the king, while riding on horseback came in company with some others to a precipitous place near the so-called Tretum, where is a temple of the archangel Michael, the work of Evaris. This man, seeing one of the young men of Antioch on foot and alone concealing himself there, separated from the others and pursued him. Now the young man was a butcher, Aeimachus by name. When he was about to be overtaken, he turned about unexpectedly and threw a stone at his pursuer which hit him on the forehead and penetrated to the membrane by the ear. And the rider fell immediately to the ground, whereupon the youth drew out his sword and slew him. Then at his leisure he stripped him of his weapons and all his gold and whatever else he had on his person, and leaping upon his horse rode on. And whether by the favour of fortune or by his knowledge of the country, he succeeded completely in eluding the Persians and making good his escape. When Chosroes learned this, he was deeply grieved at what had happened, and commanded some of his followers to burn the sanctuary of the archangel Michael which I have mentioned above. And they, thinking that the sanctuary at Daphne was the one in question, burned it with the buildings about it, and they supposed that the commands of Chosroes had been executed. Such, then, was the course of these events. But Chosroes with his whole army proceeded on the way to Apamea. Now there is a piece of wood one cubit in length in Apamea, a portion of the cross on which the Christ in Jerusalem once endured the punishment not unwillingly, as is generally agreed, and which in ancient times had been conveyed there secretly by a man of Syria. And the men of olden times, believing that it would be a great protection both for themselves and for the city, made for it a sort of wooden chest and deposited it there; and they adorned this chest with much gold and with precious stones and they entrusted it to three priests who were to guard it in all security; and they bring it forth every year and the whole population worship it during one day. Now at that time the people of Apamea, upon learning that the army of the Medes was coming against them, began to be in great fear. And when they heard that Chosroes was absolutely untruthful, they came to Thomas, the chief priest of the city, and begged him to shew them the wood of the cross, in order that after worshipping it for the last time they might die. And he did as they requested. Then indeed it befell that a sight surpassing both description and belief was there seen. For while the priest was carrying the wood and shewing it, above him followed a flame of fire, and the portion of the roof over him was illuminated with a great and unaccustomed light. And while the priest was moving through every part of the temple, the flame continued to advance with him, keeping constantly the place above him in the roof. So the people of Apamea, under the spell of joy at the miracle, were wondering and rejoicing and weeping, and already all felt confidence concerning their safety. And Thomas, after going about the whole temple, laid the wood of the cross in the chest and covered it, and suddenly the light had ceased. Then upon learning that the army of the enemy had come close to the city, he went in great haste to Chosroes. And when the king enquired of the priest whether it was the will of the citizens of Apamea to marshal themselves on the wall against the army of the Medes, the priest replied that no such thing had entered the minds of the men. "Therefore," said Chosroes, "receive me into the city accompanied by a few men with all the gates opened wide." And the priest said "Yes, for I have come here to invite thee to do this very thing." So the whole army pitched their tents and made camp before the fortifications. Then Chosroes chose out two hundred of the best of the Persians and entered the city. But when he had got inside the gates, he forgot willingly enough what had been agreed upon between himself and the ambassadors, and he commanded the bishop to give not only one thousand pounds of silver nor even ten times that amount, but whatsoever treasures were stored there, being all of gold and silver and of marvellous great size. And I believe that he would not have shrunk from enslaving and plundering the whole city, unless some divine providence had manifestly prevented him; to such a degree did avarice overpower him and the desire of fame turn his mind. For he thought the enslavement of the cities a great glory for himself, considering it absolutely nothing that disregarding treaties and compacts he was performing such deeds against the Romans. This attitude of Chosroes will be revealed by what he undertook to do concerning the city of Daras during his withdrawal at this same time, when he treated his agreements with absolute disregard, and also by what he did to the citizens of Callinicus a little later in time of peace, as will be told by me in the following narrative[8]. But God, as has been said, preserved Apamea. Now when Chosroes had seized all the treasures, and Thomas saw that he was already intoxicated with the abundance of the wealth, then bringing out the wood of the cross with the chest, he opened the chest and displaying the wood said: "O most mighty King, these alone are left me out of all the treasures. Now as for this chest (since it is adorned with gold and precious stones), we do not begrudge thy taking it and keeping it with all the rest, but this wood here, it is our salvation and precious to us, this, I beg and entreat thee, give to me." So spoke the priest. And Chosroes yielded and fulfilled the request. Afterwards, being filled with a desire for popular applause, he commanded that the populace should go up into the hippodrome and that the charioteers should hold their accustomed contests. And he himself went up there also, eager to be a spectator of the performances. And since he had heard long before that the Emperor Justinian was extraordinarily fond of the Venetus[9] colour, which is blue, wishing to go against him there also, he was desirous of bringing about victory for the green. So the charioteers, starting from the barriers, began the contest, and by some chance he who was clad in the blue happened to pass his rival and take the lead. And he was followed in the same tracks by the wearer of the green colour. And Chosroes, thinking that this had been done purposely, was angry, and he cried out with a threat that the Caesar had wrongfully surpassed the others, and he commanded that the horses which were running in front should be held up, in order that from then on they might contend in the rear; and when this had been done just as he commanded, then Chosroes and the green faction were accounted victorious. At that time one of the citizens of Apamea came before Chosroes and accused a Persian of entering his house and violating his maiden daughter. Upon hearing this, Chosroes, boiling with anger, commanded that the man should be brought. And when he came before him, he directed that he should be impaled in the camp. And when the people learned this, they raised a mighty shout as loud as they could, demanding that the man be saved from the king's anger. And Chosroes promised that he would release the man to them, but he secretly impaled him not long afterwards. So after these things had been thus accomplished, he departed and marched back with the whole army. XII And when he came to the city of Chalcis, eighty-four stades distant from the city of Beroea, he again seemed to forget the things which had been agreed upon, and encamping not far from the fortifications he sent Paulus to threaten the inhabitants of Chalcis, saying that he would take the city by siege, unless they should purchase their safety by giving ransom, and should give up to the Persians all the soldiers who were there together with their leader. And the citizens of Chalcis were seized with great fear of both sovereigns, and they swore that, as for soldiers, there were absolutely none of them in the city, although they had hidden Adonachus, the commander of the soldiers, and others as well in some houses, in order that they might not be seen by the enemy; and with difficulty they collected two centenaria[10] of gold, for the city they inhabited was not very prosperous, and they gave them to Chosroes as the price of their lives and thus saved both the city and themselves. From there on Chosroes did not wish to continue the return journey by the road he had come, but to cross the River Euphrates and gather by plunder as much money as possible from Mesopotamia. He therefore constructed a bridge at the place called Obbane, which is forty stades distant from the fortress in Barbalissum; then he himself went across and gave orders to the whole army to cross as quickly as possible, adding that he would break up the bridge on the third day, and he appointed also the time of the day. And when the appointed day was come, it happened that some of the army were left who had not yet crossed, but without the least consideration for them he sent the men to break up the bridge. And those who were left behind returned to their native land as each one could. Then a sort of ambition came over Chosroes to capture the city of Edessa. For he was led on to this by a saying of the Christians, and it kept irritating his mind, because they maintained that it could not be taken, for the following reason. There was a certain Augarus in early times, toparch of Edessa (for thus the kings of the different nations were called then). Now this Augarus was the most clever of all men of his time, and as a result of this was an especial friend of the Emperor Augustus. For, desiring to make a treaty with the Romans, he came to Rome; and when he conversed with Augustus, he so astonished him by the abundance of his wisdom that Augustus wished never more to give up his company; for he was an ardent lover of his conversation, and whenever he met him, he was quite unwilling to depart from him. A long time, therefore, was consumed by him in this visit. And one day when he was desirous of returning to his native land and was utterly unable to persuade Augustus to let him go, he devised the following plan. He first went out to hunt in the country about Rome; for it happened that he had taken considerable interest in the practice of this sport. And going about over a large tract of country, he captured alive many of the animals of that region, and he gathered up and took with him from each part of the country some earth from the land; thus he returned to Rome bringing both the earth and the animals. Then Augustus went up into the hippodrome and seated himself as was his wont, and Augarus came before him and displayed the earth and the animals, telling over from what district each portion of earth was and what animals they were. Then he gave orders to put the earth in different parts of the hippodrome, and to gather all the animals into one place and then to release them. So the attendants did as he directed. And the animals, separating from each other, went each to that portion of earth which was from the district in which it itself had been taken. And Augustus looked upon the performance carefully for a very long time, and he was wondering that nature untaught makes animals miss their native land. Then Augarus, suddenly laying hold upon his knees, said: "But as for me, O Master, what thoughts dost thou think I have, who possess a wife and children and a kingdom, small indeed, but in the land of my fathers?" And the emperor, overcome and compelled by the truth of his saying, granted not at all willingly that he should go away, and bade him ask besides whatever he wished. And when Augarus had secured this, he begged of Augustus to build him a hippodrome in the city of Edessa. And he granted also this. Thus then Augarus departed from Rome and came to Edessa. And the citizens enquired of him whether he had come bringing any good thing for them from the Emperor Augustus. And he answering said he had brought to the inhabitants of Edessa pain without loss and pleasure without gain, hinting at the fortune of the hippodrome. At a later time when Augarus was well advanced in years, he was seized with an exceedingly violent attack of gout. And being distressed by the pains and his inability to move in consequence of them, he carried the matter to the physicians, and from the whole land he gathered all who were skilled in these matters. But later he abandoned these men (for they did not succeed in discovering any cure for the trouble), and finding himself helpless, he bewailed the fate which was upon him. But about that time Jesus, the Son of God, was in the body and moving among the men of Palestine, shewing manifestly by the fact that he never sinned at all, and also by his performing even things impossible, that he was the Son of God in very truth; for he called the dead and raised them up as if from sleep, and opened the eyes of men who had been born blind, and cleansed those whose whole bodies were covered with leprosy, and released those whose feet were maimed, and he cured all the other diseases which are called by the physicians incurable. When these things were reported to Augarus by those who travelled from Palestine to Edessa, he took courage and wrote a letter to Jesus, begging him to depart from Judaea and the senseless people there, and to spend his life with him from that time forward. When the Christ saw this message, he wrote in reply to Augarus, saying distinctly that he would not come, but promising him health in the letter. And they say that he added this also that never would the city be liable to capture by the barbarians. This final portion of the letter was entirely unknown to those who wrote the history of that time; for they did not even make mention of it anywhere; but the men of Edessa say that they found it with the letter, so that they have even caused the letter to be inscribed in this form on the gates of the city instead of any other defence. The city did in fact come under the Medes a short time afterwards, not by capture however, but in the following manner. A short time after Augarus received the letter of the Christ, he became free from suffering, and after living on in health for a long time, he came to his end. But that one of his sons who succeeded to the kingdom shewed himself the most unholy of all men, and besides committing many other wrongs against his subjects, he voluntarily went over to the Persians, fearing the vengeance which was to come from the Romans. But long after this the citizens of Edessa destroyed the barbarian guards who were dwelling with them, and gave the city into the hands of the Romans. * * *[11] he is eager to attach it to his cause, judging by what has happened in my time, which I shall present in the appropriate place. And the thought once occurred to me that, if the Christ did not write this thing just as I have told it, still, since men have come to believe in it, He wishes to guard the city uncaptured for this reason, that He may never give them any pretext for error. As for these things, then, let them be as God wills, and so let them be told. For this reason it seemed to Chosroes at that time a matter of moment to capture Edessa. And when he came to Batne, a small stronghold of no importance, one day's journey distant from Edessa, he bivouacked there for that night, but at early dawn he was on the march to Edessa with his whole army. But it fell out that they lost their way and wandered about, and on the following night bivouacked in the same place; and they say that this happened to them a second time also. When with difficulty Chosroes reached the neighbourhood of Edessa, they say that suppuration set in in his face and his jaw became swollen. For this reason he was quite unwilling to make an attempt on the city, but he sent Paulus and demanded money from the citizens. And they said that they had absolutely no fear concerning the city, but in order that he might not damage the country they agreed to give two centenaria of gold. And Chosroes took the money and kept the agreement. XIII At that time also the Emperor Justinian wrote a letter to Chosroes, promising to carry out the agreement which had been made by him and the ambassadors regarding the peace[12]. When this message was received by Chosroes, he released the hostages and made preparations for his departure, and he wished to sell off all the captives from Antioch. And when the citizens of Edessa learned of this, they displayed an unheard-of zeal. For there was not a person who did not bring ransom for the captives and deposit it in the sanctuary according to the measure of his possessions. And there were some who even exceeded their proportionate amount in so doing. For the harlots took off all the adornment which they wore on their persons, and threw it down there, and any farmer who was in want of plate or of money, but who had an ass or a sheep, brought this to the sanctuary with great zeal. So there was collected an exceedingly great amount of gold and silver and money in other forms, but not a bit of it was given for ransom. For Bouzes happened to be present there, and he took in hand to prevent the transaction, expecting that this would bring him some great gain. Therefore Chosroes moved forward, taking with him all the captives. And the citizens of Carrhae met him holding out to him great sums of money; but he said that it did not belong to him because the most of them are not Christians but are of the old faith. But when, likewise, the citizens of Constantina offered money, he accepted it, although he asserted that the city belonged to him from his fathers. [503 A.D.] For at the time when Cabades took Amida, he wished also to capture Edessa and Constantina. But when he came near to Edessa he enquired of the Magi whether it would be possible for him to capture the city, pointing out the place to them with his right hand. But they said that the city would not be captured by him by any device, judging by the fact that in stretching out his right hand to it he was not giving thereby the sign of capture or of any other grievous thing, but of salvation. And when Cabades heard this, he was convinced and led his army on to Constantina. And upon arriving there, he issued orders to the whole army to encamp for a siege. Now the priest of Constantina was at that time Baradotus, a just man and especially beloved of God, and his prayers for this reason were always effectual for whatever he wished; and even seeing his face one would have straightway surmised that this man was most completely acceptable to God. This Baradotus came then to Cabades bearing wine and dried figs and honey and unblemished loaves, and entreated him not to make an attempt on a city which was not of any importance and which was very much neglected by the Romans, having neither a garrison of soldiers nor any other defence, but only the inhabitants, who were pitiable folk. Thus spoke the priest; and Cabades promised that he would grant him the city freely, and he presented him with all the food-supplies which had been prepared by him for the army in anticipation of the siege, an exceedingly great quantity; and thus he departed from the land of the Romans. For this reason it was that Chosroes claimed that the city belonged to him from his fathers. And when he reached Daras, he began a siege; but within the city the Romans and Martinus, their general (for it happened that he was there), made their preparations for resistance. Now the city is surrounded by two walls, the inner one of which is of great size and a truly wonderful thing to look upon (for each tower reaches to a height of a hundred feet, and the rest of the wall to sixty), while the outer wall is much smaller, but in other respects strong and one to be reckoned with seriously. And the space between has a breadth of not less than fifty feet; in that place the citizens of Daras are accustomed to put their cattle and other animals when an enemy assails them. At first then Chosroes made an assault on the fortifications toward the west, and forcing back his opponents by overwhelming numbers of missiles, he set fire to the gates of the small wall. However no one of the barbarians dared to get inside. Next he decided to make a tunnel secretly at the eastern side of the city. For at this point alone can the earth be dug, since the other parts of the fortifications were set upon rock by the builders. So the Persians began to dig, beginning from their trench. And since this was very deep, they were neither observed by the enemy nor did they afford them any means of discovering what was being done. So they had already gone under the foundations of the outer wall, and were about to reach the space between the two walls and soon after to pass also the great wall and take the city by force; but since it was not fated to be captured by the Persians, someone from the camp of Chosroes came alone about midday close to the fortifications, whether a man or something else greater than man, and he made it appear to those who saw him that he was collecting the weapons which the Romans had a little before discharged from the wall against the barbarians who were assailing them. And while doing this and holding his shield before him, he seemed to be bantering those who were on the parapet and taunting them with laughter. Then he told them of everything and commanded them all to be on the watch and to take all possible care for their safety. After revealing these things he was off, while the Romans with much shouting and confusion were ordering men to dig the ground between the two walls. The Persians, on the other hand, not knowing what was being done, were pushing on the work no less than before. So while the Persians were making a straight way underground to the wall of the city, the Romans by the advice of Theodoras, a man learned in the science called mechanics, were constructing their trench in a cross-wise direction and making it of sufficient depth, so that when the Persians had reached the middle point between the two circuit-walls they suddenly broke into the trench of the Romans. And the first of them the Romans killed, while those in the rear by fleeing at top speed into the camp saved themselves. For the Romans decided by no means to pursue them in the dark. So Chosroes, failing in this attempt and having no hope that he would take the city by any device thereafter, opened negotiations with the besieged, and carrying away a thousand pounds of silver he retired into the land of Persia. When this came to the knowledge of the Emperor Justinian, he was no longer willing to carry the agreement into effect, charging Chosroes with having attempted to capture the city of Daras during a truce. Such were the fortunes of the Romans during the first invasion of Chosroes; and the summer drew to its close. XIV Now Chosroes built a city in Assyria in a place one day's journey distant from the city of Ctesiphon, and he named it the Antioch of Chosroes and settled there all the captives from Antioch, constructing for them a bath and a hippodrome and providing that they should have free enjoyment of their other luxuries besides. For he brought with him charioteers and musicians both from Antioch and from the other Roman cities. Besides this he always provisioned these citizens of Antioch at public expense more carefully than in the fashion of captives, and he required that they be called king's subjects, so as to be subordinate to no one of the magistrates, but to the king alone. And if any one else too who was a Roman in slavery ran away and succeeded in escaping to the Antioch of Chosroes, and if he was called a kinsman by any one of those who lived there, it was no longer possible for the owner of this captive to take him away, not even if he who had enslaved the man happened to be a person of especial note among the Persians. Thus, then, the portent which had come to the citizens of Antioch in the reign of Anastasius reached this final fulfilment for them. For at that time a violent wind suddenly fell upon the suburb of Daphne, and some of the cypresses which were there of extraordinary height were overturned from the extremities of their roots and fell to the earth--trees which the law forbade absolutely to be cut down. [526 A.D.] Accordingly, a little later, when Justinus was ruling over the Romans, the place was visited by an exceedingly violent earthquake, which shook down the whole city and straightway brought to the ground the most and the finest of the buildings, and it is said that at that time three hundred thousand of the population of Antioch perished. And finally in this capture the whole city, as has been said, was destroyed. Such, then, was the calamity which befell the men of Antioch. And Belisarius came to Byzantium from Italy, summoned by the emperor; and after he had spent the winter in Byzantium, the emperor sent him as general against Chosroes and the Persians at the opening of spring, together with the officers who had come with him from Italy, one of whom, Valerianus, he commanded to lead the troops in Armenia. [541 A.D.] For Martinus had been sent immediately to the East, and for this reason Chosroes found him at Daras, as has been stated above. And among the Goths, Vittigis remained in Byzantium, but all the rest marched with Belisarius against Chosroes. At that time one of the envoys of Vittigis, he who was assuming the name of bishop, died in the land of Persia, and the other one remained there. And the man who followed them as interpreter withdrew to the land of the Romans, and John, who was commanding the troops in Mesopotamia, arrested him near the boundaries of Constantina, and bringing him into the city confined him in a prison; there the man in answer to his enquiries related everything which had been done. Such, then, was the course of these events. And Belisarius and his followers went in haste, since he was eager to anticipate Chosroes' making any second invasion into the land of the Romans. XV But in the meantime Chosroes was leading his army against Colchis, where the Lazi were calling him in for the following reason. The Lazi at first dwelt in the land of Colchis as subjects of the Romans, but not to the extent of paying them tribute or obeying their commands in any respect, except that, whenever their king died, the Roman emperor would send emblems of the office to him who was about to succeed to the throne. And he, together with his subjects, guarded strictly the boundaries of the land in order that hostile Huns might not proceed from the Caucasus mountains, which adjoin their territory, through Lazica and invade the land of the Romans. And they kept guard without receiving money or troops from the Romans and without ever joining the Roman armies, but they were always engaged in commerce by sea with the Romans who live on the Black Sea. For they themselves have neither salt nor grain nor any other good thing, but by furnishing skins and hides and slaves they secured the supplies which they needed. But when the events came to pass in which Gourgenes, the king of the Iberians, was concerned, as has been told in the preceding narrative[13], Roman soldiers began to be quartered among the Lazi; and these barbarians were annoyed by the soldiers, and most of all by Peter, the general, a man who was prone to treat insolently those who came into contact with him. This Peter was a native of Arzanene, which is beyond the River Nymphius, a district subject to the Persians from of old, but while still a child he had been captured and enslaved by the Emperor Justinus at the time when Justinus, after the taking of Amida, was invading the land of the Persians with Celer's army.[14] And since his owner showed him great kindness, he attended the school of a grammatist. And at first he became secretary to Justinus, but when, after the death of Anastasius, Justinus took over the Roman empire, Peter was made a general, and he degenerated into a slave of avarice, if anyone ever did, and shewed himself very fatuous in his treatment of all. And later the Emperor Justinian sent different officers to Lazica, and among them John, whom they called Tzibus, a man of obscure and ignoble descent, but who had climbed to the office of general by virtue of no other thing than that he was the most accomplished villain in the world and most successful in discovering unlawful sources of revenue. This man unsettled and threw into confusion all the relations of the Romans and the Lazi. He also persuaded the Emperor Justinian to build a city on the sea in Lazica, Petra by name; and there he sat as in a citadel and plundered the property of the Lazi. For the salt, and all other cargoes which were considered necessary for the Lazi, it was no longer possible for the merchants to bring into the land of Colchis, nor could they purchase them elsewhere by sending for them, but he set up in Petra the so-called "monopoly" and himself became a retail dealer and overseer of all the handling of these things, buying everything and selling it to the Colchians, not at the customary rates, but as dearly as possible. At the same time, even apart from this, the barbarians were annoyed by the Roman army quartered upon them, a thing which had not been customary previously. Accordingly, since they were no longer able to endure these things, they decided to attach themselves to the Persians and Chosroes, and immediately they sent to them envoys who were to arrange this without the knowledge of the Romans. These men had been instructed that they should take pledges from Chosroes that he would never give up the Lazi against their will to the Romans, and that with this understanding they should bring him with the Persian army into the land. Accordingly the envoys went to the Persians, and coming secretly before Chosroes they said: "If any people in all time have revolted from their own friends in any manner whatsoever and attached themselves wrongfully to men utterly unknown to them, and after that by the kindness of fortune have been brought back once more with greatest rejoicing to those who were formerly their own, consider, O Most mighty King, that such as these are the Lazi. For the Colchians in ancient times, as allies of the Persians, rendered them many good services and were themselves treated in like manner; and of these things there are many records in books, some of which we have, while others are preserved in thy palace up to the present time. But at a later time it came about that our ancestors, whether neglected by you or for some other reason (for we are unable to ascertain anything certain about this matter), became allies of the Romans. And now we and the king of Lazica give to the Persians both ourselves and our land to treat in any way you may desire. And we beg of you to think thus concerning us: if, on the one hand, we have suffered nothing outrageous at the hands of the Romans, but have been prompted by foolish motives in coming to you, reject this prayer of ours straightway, considering that with you likewise the Colchians will never be trustworthy (for when a friendship has been dissolved, a second friendship formed with others becomes, owing to its character, a matter of reproach); but if we have been in name friends of the Romans, but in fact their loyal slaves, and have suffered impious treatment at the hands of those who have tyrannized over us, receive us, your former allies, and acquire as slaves those whom you used to treat as friends, and shew your hatred of a cruel tyranny which has risen thus on our borders, by acting worthily of that justice which it has always been the tradition of the Persians to defend. For the man who himself does no wrong is not just, unless he is also accustomed to rescue those who are wronged by others when he has it in his power. But it is worth while to tell a few of the things which the accursed Romans have dared to do against us. In the first place they have left our king only the form of royal power, while they themselves have appropriated the actual authority, and he sits a king in the position of a servant, fearing the general who issues the orders; and they have put upon us a multitude of soldiery, not in order to guard the land against those who harass us (for not one of our neighbours except, indeed, the Romans has disturbed us), but in order that they may confine us as in a prison and make themselves masters of our possessions. And purposing to make more speedy the robbery of what we have, behold, O King, what sort of a design they have formed; the supplies which are in excess among them they compel the Lazi to buy against their will, while those things which are most useful to them among the products of Lazica these fellows demand to buy, as they put it, from us, the price being determined in both cases by the judgment of the stronger party. And thus they are robbing us of all our gold as well as of the necessities of life, using the fair name of trade, but in fact oppressing us as thoroughly as they possibly can. And there has been set over us as ruler a huckster who has made our destitution a kind of business by virtue of the authority of his office. The cause of our revolt, therefore, being of this sort, has justice on its side; but the advantage which you yourselves will gain if you receive the request of the Lazi we shall forthwith tell. To the realm of Persia you will add a most ancient kingdom, and as a result of this you will have the power of your sway extended, and it will come about that you will have a part in the sea of the Romans through our land, and after thou hast built ships in this sea, O King, it will be possible for thee with no trouble to set foot in the palace in Byzantium. For there is no obstacle between. And one might add that the plundering of the land of the Romans every year by the barbarians along the boundary will be under your control. For surely you also are acquainted with the fact that up till now the land of the Lazi has been a bulwark against the Caucasus mountains. So with justice leading the way, and advantage added thereto, we consider that not to receive our words with favour would be wholly contrary to good judgment." So spoke the envoys. And Chosroes, delighted by their words, promised to protect the Lazi, and enquired of the envoys whether it was possible for him to enter the land of Colchis with a large army. For he said that previously he had heard many persons report that the land was exceedingly hard to traverse even for an unimpeded traveller, being extremely rugged and covered very extensively by thick forests of wide-spreading trees. But the envoys stoutly maintained to him that the way through the country would be easy for the whole Persian army, if they cut the trees and threw them into the places which were made difficult by precipices. And they promised that they themselves would be guides of the route, and would take the lead in this work for the Persians. Encouraged by this suggestion, Chosroes gathered a great army and made his preparations for the inroad, not disclosing the plan to the Persians except those alone to whom he was accustomed to communicate his secrets, and commanding the envoys to tell no one what was being done; and he pretended that he was setting out into Iberia, in order to settle matters there; for a Hunnic tribe, he kept saying in explanation, had assailed the Persian domain at that point. XVI At this time Belisarius had arrived in Mesopotamia and was gathering his army from every quarter, and he also kept sending men into the land of Persia to act as spies. And wishing himself to encounter the enemy there, if they should again make an incursion into the land of the Romans, he was organizing on the spot and equipping the soldiers, who were for the most part without either arms or armour, and in terror of the name of the Persians. Now the spies returned and declared that for the present there would be no invasion of the enemy; for Chosroes was occupied elsewhere with a war against the Huns. And Belisarius, upon learning this, wished to invade the land of the enemy immediately with his whole army. Arethas also came to him with a large force of Saracens, and besides the emperor wrote a letter instructing him to invade the enemy's country with all speed. He therefore called together all the officers in Daras and spoke as follows: "I know that all of you, my fellow officers, are experienced in many wars, and I have brought you together at the present time, not in order to stir up your minds against the enemy by addressing to you any reminder or exhortation (for I think that you need no speech that prompts to daring), but in order that we may deliberate together among ourselves, and choose rather the course which may seem fairest and best for the cause of the emperor. For war is wont to succeed by reason of careful planning more than by anything else. Now it is necessary that those who gather for deliberation should make their minds entirely free from modesty and from fear. For fear, by paralyzing those who have fallen into it, does not allow the reason to choose the nobler part, and modesty obscures what has been seen to be the better course and leads investigation the opposite way. If, therefore, it seems to you that any purpose has been formed either by our mighty emperor or by me concerning the present situation, let no thought of this enter your minds. For, as for him, he is altogether ignorant of what is being done, and is therefore unable to adapt his moves to opportune moments; there is therefore no fear but that in going contrary to him we shall do that which will be of advantage to his cause. And as for me, since I am human, and have come here from the West after a long interval, it is impossible that some of the necessary things should not escape me. So it behoves you, without any too modest regard for my opinion, to say outright whatever is going to be of advantage for ourselves and for the emperor. Now in the beginning, fellow officers, we came here in order to prevent the enemy from making any invasion into our land, but at the present time, since things have gone better for us than we had hoped, it is possible for us to make his land the subject of our deliberation. And now that you have been gathered together for this purpose, it is fair, I think, that you should tell without any concealment what seems to each one best and most advantageous." Thus spoke Belisarius. And Peter and Bouzes urged him to lead the army without any hesitation against the enemy's country. And their opinion was followed immediately by the whole council. Rhecithancus, however, and Theoctistus, the commanders of the troops in Lebanon, said that, while they too had the same wish as the others concerning the invasion, they feared that if they abandoned the country of Phoenicia and Syria, Alamoundaras would plunder it at his leisure, and that the emperor would be angry with them because they had not guarded and kept unplundered the territory under their command, and for this reason they were quite unwilling to join the rest of the army in the invasion. But Belisarius said that the opinion of these two men was not in the least degree true; for it was the season of the vernal equinox, and at this season the Saracens always dedicated about two months to their god, and during this time never undertook any inroad into the land of others. Agreeing, therefore, to release both of them with their followers within sixty days, he commanded them also to follow with the rest of the army. So Belisarius was making his preparation for the invasion with great zeal. XVII But Chosroes and the Median army, after crossing Iberia, reached the territory of Lazica under the leadership of the envoys; there with no one to withstand them they began to cut down the trees which grow thickly over that very mountainous region, rising to a great height, and spreading out their branches remarkably, so that they made the country absolutely impassable for the army; and these they threw into the rough places, and thus rendered the road altogether easy. And when they arrived in the centre of Colchis (the place where the tales of the poets say that the adventure of Medea and Jason took place), Goubazes, the king of the Lazi, came and did obeisance to Chosroes, the son of Cabades, as Lord, putting himself together with his palace and all Lazica into his hand. Now there is a coast city named Petra in Colchis, on the sea which is called the Euxine, which in former times had been a place of no importance, but which the Emperor Justinian had rendered strong and otherwise conspicuous by means of the circuit-wall and other buildings which he erected. When Chosroes ascertained that the Roman army was in that place with John, he sent an army and a general, Aniabedes, against them in order to capture the place at the first onset. But John, upon learning of their approach, gave orders that no one should go outside the fortifications nor allow himself to be seen from the parapet by the enemy, and he armed the whole army and stationed them in the vicinity of the gates, commanding them to keep silence and not allow the least sound of any kind to escape from them. So the Persians came close to the fortifications, and since nothing of the enemy was either seen or heard by them they thought that the Romans had abandoned the city and left it destitute of men. For this reason they closed in still more around the fortifications, so as to set up ladders immediately, since no one was defending the wall. And neither seeing nor hearing anything of the enemy, they sent to Chosroes and explained the situation. And he sent the greater part of the army, commanding them to make an attempt upon the fortifications from all sides, and he directed one of the officers to make use of the engine known as a ram around the gate, while he himself, seated on the hill which lies very close to the city, became a spectator of the operations. And straightway the Romans opened the gates all of a sudden, and unexpectedly fell upon and slew great numbers of the enemy, and especially those stationed about the ram; the rest with difficulty made their escape together with the general and were saved. And Chosroes, filled with rage, impaled Aniabedes, since he had been outgeneralled by John, a tradesman and an altogether unwarlike man. But some say that not Aniabedes, but the officer commanding the men who were working the ram was impaled. And he himself broke camp with the whole army, and coming close to the fortifications of Petra, made camp and began a siege. On the following day he went completely around the fortifications, and since he suspected that they could not support a very strong attack, he decided to storm the wall. And bringing up the whole army there, he opened the action, commanding all to shoot with their bows against the parapet. The Romans, meanwhile, in defending themselves, made use of their engines of war and all their bows. At first, then, the Persians did the Romans little harm, although they were shooting their arrows thick and fast, while at the same time they suffered severely at the hands of the Romans, since they were being shot at from an elevation. But later on (since it was fated that Petra be captured by Chosroes), John by some chance was shot in the neck and died, and as a result of this the other Romans ceased to care for anything. Then indeed the barbarians withdrew to their camp; for it was already growing dark; but on the following day they planned to assail the fortifications by an excavation, as follows. The city of Petra is on one side inaccessible on account of the sea, and on the other on account of the sheer cliffs which rise there on every hand; indeed it is from this circumstance that the city has received the name it bears. And it has only one approach on the level ground, and that not very broad; for exceedingly high cliffs overhang it on either side. At that point those who formerly built the city provided that that portion of the wall should not be open to attack by making long walls which ran along beside either cliff and guarded the approach for a great distance. And they built two towers, one in each of these walls, not following the customary plan, but as follows. They refused to allow the space in the middle of the structure to be empty, but constructed the entire towers from the ground up to a great height of very large stones which fitted together, in order that they might never be shaken down by a ram or any other engine. Such, then, are the fortifications of Petra. But the Persians secretly made a tunnel into the earth and got under one of the two towers, and from there carried out many of the stones and in their place put wood, which a little later they burned. And the flame, rising little by little, weakened the stones, and all of a sudden shook the whole tower violently and straightway brought it down to the ground. And the Romans who were on the tower perceived what was being done in sufficient time so that they did not fall with it to the ground, but they fled and got inside the city wall. And now it was possible for the enemy to storm the wall from the level, and thus with no trouble to take the city by force. The Romans, therefore, in terror, opened negotiations with the barbarians, and receiving from Chosroes pledges concerning their lives and their property, they surrendered to him both themselves and the city. [541 A.D.] Thus Chosroes captured Petra. And finding the treasures of John, which were extremely rich, he took them himself, but besides this neither he himself nor anyone else of the Persians touched anything, and the Romans, retaining their own possessions, mingled with the Median army. XVIII Meantime Belisarius and the Roman army, having learned nothing of what was being done there, were going in excellent order from the city of Daras toward Nisibis. And when they had reached the middle of their journey, Belisarius led the army to the right where there were abundant springs of water and level ground sufficient for all to camp upon. And there he gave orders to make a camp at about forty-two stades from the city of Nisibis. But all the others marvelled greatly that he did not wish to camp close to the fortifications, and some were quite unwilling to follow him. Belisarius therefore addressed those of the officers who were about him thus: "It was not my wish to disclose to all what I am thinking. For talk carried about through a camp cannot keep secrets, for it advances little by little until it is carried out even to the enemy. But seeing that the majority of you are allowing yourselves to act in a most disorderly manner, and that each one wishes to be himself supreme commander in the war, I shall now say among you things about which one ought to keep silence, mentioning, however, this first, that when many in an army follow independent judgments it is impossible that anything needful be done. Now I think that Chosroes, in going against other barbarians, has by no means left his own land without sufficient protection, and in particular this city which is of the first rank and is set as a defence to his whole land. In this city I know well that he has stationed soldiers in such number and of such valour as to be sufficient to stand in the way of our assaults. And the proof of this you have near at hand. For he put in command of these men the general Nabedes, who, after Chosroes himself at least, seems to be first among the Persians in glory and in every other sort of honour. This man, I believe, will both make trial of our strength and will permit of our passing by on no other condition than that he be defeated by us in battle. If, therefore, the conflict should be close by the city, the struggle will not be even for us and the Persians. For they, coming out from their stronghold against us, in case of success, should it so happen, will feel unlimited confidence in assailing us, and in case of defeat they will easily escape from our attack. For we shall only be able to pursue them a short distance, and from this no harm will come to the city, which you surely see cannot be captured by storming the wall when soldiers are defending it. But if the enemy engage with us here and we conquer them, I have great hopes, fellow officers, of capturing the city. For while our antagonists are fleeing a long way, we shall either mingle with them and rush inside the gates with them, as is probable, or we shall anticipate them and compel them to turn and escape to some other place, and thus render Nisibis without its defenders easy of capture for us." When Belisarius had said this, all the others except Peter were convinced, and they made camp and remained with him. He, however, associating with himself John, who commanded the troops in Mesopotamia and had no small part of the army, came up to a position not far removed from the fortifications, about ten stades away, and remained quietly there. But Belisarius marshalled the men who were with him as if for combat, and sent word to Peter and his men also to hold themselves in array for battle, until he himself should give the signal; and he said that he knew well that the barbarians would attack them about midday, remembering, as they surely would, that while they themselves are accustomed to partake of food in the late afternoon, the Romans do so about midday. So Belisarius gave this warning; but Peter and his men disregarded his commands, and about midday, being distressed by the sun (for the place is exceedingly dry and hot), they stacked their arms, and with never a thought of the enemy began to go about in disorderly fashion and eat gourds which grew there. And when this was observed by Nabedes, he led the Persian army running at full speed against them. And the Romans, since they did not fail to observe that the Persians were coming out of the fortifications (for they were seen clearly because moving over a level plain), sent to Belisarius urging him to support them, and they themselves snatched up their arms, and in disorder and confusion confronted their foe. But Belisarius and his men, even before the messenger had reached them, discovered by the dust the attack of the Persians, and went to the rescue on the run. And when the Persians came up, the Romans did not withstand their onset, but were routed without any difficulty, and the Persians, following close upon them, killed fifty men, and seized and kept the standard of Peter. And they would have slain them all in this pursuit, for the Romans had no thought of resistance, if Belisarius and the army with him had not come upon them and prevented it. For as the Goths, first of all, came upon them with long spears in close array, the Persians did not await their attack but beat a hasty retreat. And the Romans together with the Goths followed them up and slew a hundred and fifty men. For the pursuit was only of short duration, and the others quickly got inside the fortifications. Then indeed all the Romans withdrew to the camp of Belisarius, and the Persians on the following day set up on a tower instead of a trophy the standard of Peter, and hanging sausages from it they taunted the enemy with laughter; however, they no longer dared to come out against them, but they guarded the city securely. XIX And Belisarius, seeing that Nisibis was exceedingly strong, and having no hope regarding its capture, was eager to go forward, in order that he might do the enemy some damage by a sudden inroad. Accordingly he broke camp and moved forward with the whole army. And after accomplishing a day's journey, they came upon a fortress which the Persians call Sisauranon. There were in that place besides the numerous population eight hundred horsemen, the best of the Persians, who were keeping guard under command of a man of note, Bleschames by name. And the Romans made camp close by the fortress and began a siege, but, upon making an assault upon the fortifications, they were beaten back, losing many men in the fight. For the wall happened to be extremely strong, and the barbarians defended it against their assailants with the greatest vigour. Belisarius therefore called together all the officers and spoke as follows: "Experience in many wars, fellow officers, has made it possible for us in difficult situations to foresee what will come to pass, and has made us capable of avoiding disaster by choosing the better course. You understand, therefore, how great a mistake it is for an army to proceed into a hostile land, when many strongholds and many fighting men in them have been left in the rear. Now exactly this has happened to us in the present case. For if we continue our advance, some of the enemy from this place as well as from the city of Nisibis will follow us secretly and will, in all probability, handle us roughly in places which are for them conveniently adapted for an ambuscade or some other sort of attack. And if, by any chance, a second army confronts us and opens battle, it will be necessary for us to array ourselves against both, and we should thus suffer irreparable harm at their hands. And in saying this I do not mention the fact that if we fail in the engagement, should it so happen, we shall after that have absolutely no way of return left to the land of the Romans. Let us not therefore by reason of most ill-considered haste seem to have been our own despoilers, nor by our eagerness for strife do harm to the cause of the Romans. For stupid daring leads to destruction, but discreet hesitation is well adapted always to save those who adopt such a course. Let us therefore establish ourselves here and endeavour to capture this fortress, and let Arethas with his forces be sent into the country of Assyria. For the Saracens are by nature unable to storm a wall, but the cleverest of all men at plundering. And some of the soldiers who are good fighters will join them in the invasion, so that, if no opposition presents itself to them, they may overwhelm those who fall in their way, and if any hostile force encounters them, they may be saved easily by retiring to us. And after we have captured the fortress, if God wills, then with the whole army let us cross the River Tigris, without having to fear mischief from anyone in our rear, and knowing well how matters stand with the Assyrians." These words of Belisarius seemed to all well spoken, and he straightway put the plan into execution. Accordingly he commanded Arethas with his troops to advance into Assyria, and with them he sent twelve hundred soldiers, the most of whom were from among his own guard, putting two guardsmen in command of them, Trajan and John who was called the Glutton, both capable warriors. These men he directed to obey Arethas in everything they did, and he commanded Arethas to pillage all that lay before him and then return to the camp and report how matters stood with the Assyrians with regard to military strength. So Arethas and his men crossed the River Tigris and entered Assyria. There they found a goodly land and one which had been free from plunder for a long time, and undefended besides; and moving rapidly they pillaged many of the places there and secured a great amount of rich plunder. And at that time Belisarius captured some of the Persians and learned from them that those who were inside the fortress were altogether out of provisions. For they do not observe the custom which is followed in the cities of Daras and Nisibis, where they put away the annual food-supply in public store-houses, and now that a hostile army had fallen upon them unexpectedly they had not anticipated the event by carrying in any of the necessities of life. And since a great number of persons had taken refuge suddenly in the fortress, they were naturally hard pressed by the want of provisions. When Belisarius learned this, he sent George, a man of the greatest discretion with whom he shared his secrets, to test the men of the place, in the hope that he might be able to arrange some terms of surrender and thus take the place. And George succeeded, after addressing to them many words of exhortation and of kindly invitation, in persuading them to take pledges for their safety and to deliver themselves and the fortress to the Romans. Thus Belisarius captured Sisauranon, and the inhabitants, all of whom were Christians and of Roman origin, he released unscathed, but the Persians he sent with Bleschames to Byzantium, and razed the fortification wall of the fortress to the ground. And the emperor not long afterwards sent these Persians and Bleschames to Italy to fight against the Goths. Such, then, was the course of events which had to do with the fortress of Sisauranon. But Arethas, fearing lest he should be despoiled of his booty by the Romans, was now unwilling to return to the camp. So he sent some of his followers ostensibly for the purpose of reconnoitring, but secretly commanding them to return as quickly as possible and announce to the army that a large hostile force was at the crossing of the river. For this reason, then, he advised Trajan and John to return by another route to the land of the Romans. So they did not come again to Belisarius, but keeping the River Euphrates on the right they finally arrived at the Theodosiopolis which is near the River Aborrhas. But Belisarius and the Roman army, hearing nothing concerning this force, were disturbed, and they were filled with fear and an intolerable and exaggerated suspicion. And since much time had been consumed by them in this siege, it came about that many of the soldiers were taken there with a troublesome fever; for the portion of Mesopotamia which is subject to the Persians is extremely dry and hot. And the Romans were not accustomed to this and especially those who came from Thrace; and since they were living their daily life in a place where the heat was excessive and in stuffy huts in the summer season, they became so ill that the third part of the army were lying half-dead. The whole army, therefore, was eager to depart from there and return as quickly as possible to their own land, and most of all the commanders of the troops in Lebanon, Rhecithancus and Theoctistus, who saw that the time which was the sacred season of the Saracens had in fact already passed. They came, indeed, frequently to Belisarius and entreated him to release them immediately, protesting that they had given over to Alamoundaras the country of Lebanon and Syria, and were sitting there for no good reason. Belisarius therefore called together all the officers and opened a discussion. Then John, the son of Nicetas, rose first and spoke as follows: "Most excellent Belisarius, I consider that in all time there has never been a general such as you are either in fortune or in valour. And this reputation has come to prevail not alone among the Romans, but also among all barbarians. This fair name, however, you will preserve most securely, if you should be able to take us back alive to the land of the Romans; for now indeed the hopes which we may have are not bright. For I would have you look thus at the situation of this army. The Saracens and the most efficient soldiers of the army crossed the River Tigris, and one day, I know not how long since, they found themselves in such a plight that they have not even succeeded in sending a messenger to us, and Rhecithancus and Theoctistus will depart, as you see surely, believing that the army of Alamoundaras is almost at this very moment in the midst of Phoenicia, pillaging the whole country there. And among those who are left the sick are so numerous that those who will care for them and convey them to the land of the Romans are fewer in number than they are by a great deal. Under these circumstances, if it should fall out that any hostile force should come upon us, either while remaining here or while going back, not a man would be able to carry back word to the Romans in Daras of the calamity which had befallen us. For as for going forward, I consider it impossible even to be spoken of. While, therefore, some hope is still left, it will be of advantage both to make plans for the return and to put the plans into action. For when men have come into danger and especially such danger as this, it is downright folly for them to devote their thoughts not to safety, but to opposition to the enemy." So spoke John, and all the others expressed approval, and becoming disorderly, they demanded that the retreat be made with all speed. Accordingly Belisarius laid the sick in the carts and let them lead the way, while he led the army behind them. And as soon as they got into the land of the Romans, he learned everything which had been done by Arethas, but he did not succeed in inflicting any punishment upon him, for he never came into his sight again. So ended the invasion of the Romans. And after Chosroes had taken Petra, it was announced to him that Belisarius had invaded the Persian territory, and the engagement near the city of Nisibis was reported, as also the capture of the fortress of Sisauranon, and all that the army of Arethas had done after crossing the River Tigris. Straightway, then, he established a garrison in Petra, and with the rest of the army and those of the Romans who had been captured he marched away into the land of Persia. Such, then, were the events which took place in the second invasion of Chosroes. And Belisarius went to Byzantium at the summons of the emperor, and passed the winter there. XX [542 A.D.] At the opening of spring Chosroes, the son of Cabades, for the third time began an invasion into the land of the Romans with a mighty army, keeping the River Euphrates on the right. And Candidus, the priest of Sergiopolis, upon learning that the Median army had come near there, began to be afraid both for himself and for the city, since he had by no means carried out at the appointed time the agreement which he had made[15]; accordingly he went into the camp of the enemy and entreated Chosroes not to be angry with him because of this. For as for money, he had never had any, and for this reason he had not even wished in the first place to deliver the inhabitants of Sura, and though he had supplicated the Emperor Justinian many times on their behalf, he had failed to receive any help from him. But Chosroes put him under guard, and, torturing him most cruelly, claimed the right to exact from him double the amount of money, just as had been agreed. And Candidus entreated him to send men to Sergiopolis to take all the treasures of the sanctuary there. And when Chosroes followed this suggestion, Candidus sent some of his followers with them. So the inhabitants of Sergiopolis, receiving into the city the men sent by Chosroes, gave them many of the treasures, declaring that nothing else was left them. But Chosroes said that these were by no means sufficient for him, and demanded that he should receive others still more than these. Accordingly he sent men, ostensibly to search out with all diligence the wealth of the city, but in reality to take possession of the city. But since it was fated that Sergiopolis should not be taken by the Persians, one of the Saracens, who, though a Christian, was serving under Alamoundaras, Ambrus by name, came by night along the wall of the city, and reporting to them the whole plan, bade them by no means receive the Persians into the city. Thus those who were sent by Chosroes returned to him unsuccessful, and he, boiling with anger, began to make plans to capture the city. He accordingly sent an army of six thousand, commanding them to begin a siege and to make assaults upon the fortifications. And this army came there and commenced active operations, and the citizens of Sergiopolis at first defended themselves vigorously, but later they gave up, and in terror at the danger, they were purposing to give over the city to the enemy. For, as it happened, they had not more than two hundred soldiers. But Ambrus, again coming along by the fortifications at night, said that within two days the Persians would raise the siege since their water supply had failed them absolutely. For this reason they did not by any means open negotiations with the enemy, and the barbarians, suffering with thirst, removed from there and came to Chosroes. However, Chosroes never released Candidus. For it was necessary, I suppose, that since he had disregarded his sworn agreement, he should be a priest no longer. Such, then, was the course of these events. But when Chosroes arrived at the land of the Commagenae which they call Euphratesia, he had no desire to turn to plundering or to the capture of any stronghold, since he had previously taken everything before him as far as Syria, partly by capture and partly by exacting money, as has been set forth in the preceding narrative. And his purpose was to lead the army straight for Palestine, in order that he might plunder all their treasures and especially those in Jerusalem. For he had it from hearsay that this was an especially goodly land and peopled by wealthy inhabitants. And all the Romans, both officers and soldiers, were far from entertaining any thought of confronting the enemy or of standing in the way of their passage, but manning their strongholds as each one could, they thought it sufficient to preserve them and save themselves. The Emperor Justinian, upon learning of the inroad of the Persians, again sent Belisarius against them. And he came with great speed to Euphratesia since he had no army with him, riding on the government post-horses, which they are accustomed to call "veredi," while Justus, the nephew of the emperor, together with Bouzes and certain others, was in Hierapolis where he had fled for refuge. And when these men heard that Belisarius was coming and was not far away, they wrote a letter to him which ran as follows: "Once more Chosroes, as you yourself doubtless know, has taken the field against the Romans, bringing a much greater army than formerly; and where he is purposing to go is not yet evident, except indeed that we hear he is very near, and that he has injured no place, but is always moving ahead. But come to us as quickly as possible, if indeed you are able to escape detection by the army of the enemy, in order that you yourself may be safe for the emperor, and that you may join us in guarding Hierapolis." Such was the message of the letter. But Belisarius, not approving the advice given, came to the place called Europum, which is on the River Euphrates. From there he sent about in all directions and began to gather his army, and there he established his camp; and the officers in Hierapolis he answered with the following words: "If, now, Chosroes is proceeding against any other peoples, and not against subjects of the Romans, this plan of yours is well considered and insures the greatest possible degree of safety; for it is great folly for those who have the opportunity of remaining quiet and being rid of trouble to enter into any unnecessary danger; but if, immediately after departing from here, this barbarian is going to fall upon some other territory of the Emperor Justinian, and that an exceptionally good one, but without any guard of soldiers, be assured that to perish valorously is better in every way than to be saved without a fight. For this would justly be called not salvation but treason. But come as quickly as possible to Europum, where, after collecting the whole army, I hope to deal with the enemy as God permits." And when the officers saw this message, they took courage, and leaving there Justus with some few men in order to guard Hierapolis, all the others with the rest of the army came to Europum. XXI But Chosroes, upon learning that Belisarius with the whole Roman army had encamped at Europum, decided not to continue his advance, but sent one of the royal secretaries, Abandanes by name, a man who enjoyed a great reputation for discretion, to Belisarius, in order to find out by inspection what sort of a general he might be, but ostensibly to make a protest because the Emperor Justinian had not sent the ambassadors to the Persians at all in order that they might settle the arrangements for the peace as had been agreed. When Belisarius learned this, he did as follows. He himself picked out six thousand men of goodly stature and especially fine physique, and set out to hunt at a considerable distance from the camp. Then he commanded Diogenes, the guardsman, and Adolius, the son of Acacius, to cross the river with a thousand horsemen and to move about the bank there, always making it appear to the enemy that if they wished to cross the Euphrates and proceed to their own land, they would never permit them to do so. This Adolius was an Armenian by birth, and he always served the emperor while in the palace as privy counsellor (those who enjoy this honour are called by the Romans "silentiarii"), but at that time he was commander of some Armenians. And these men did as directed. Now when Belisarius had ascertained that the envoy was close at hand, he set up a tent of some heavy cloth, of the sort which is commonly called a "pavilion," and seated himself there as one might in a desolate place, seeking thus to indicate that he had come without any equipment. And he arranged the soldiers as follows. On either side of the tent were Thracians and Illyrians, with Goths beyond them, and next to these Eruli, and finally Vandals and Moors. And their line extended for a great distance over the plain. For they did not remain standing always in the same place, but stood apart from one another and kept walking about, looking carelessly and without the least interest upon the envoy of Chosroes. And not one of them had a cloak or any other outer garment to cover the shoulders, but they were sauntering about clad in linen tunics and trousers, and outside these their girdles. And each one had his horse-whip, but for weapons one had a sword, another an axe, another an uncovered bow. And all gave the impression that they were eager to be off on the hunt with never a thought of anything else. So Abandanes came into the presence of Belisarius and said that the king Chosroes was indignant because the agreement previously made had not been kept, in that the envoys had not been sent to him by Caesar (for thus the Persians call the emperor of the Romans), and as a result of this Chosroes had been compelled to come into the land of the Romans in arms. But Belisarius was not terrified by the thought that such a multitude of barbarians were encamped close by, nor did he experience any confusion because of the words of the man, but with a laughing, care-free countenance he made answer, saying: "This course which Chosroes has followed on the present occasion is not in keeping with the way men usually act. For other men, in case a dispute should arise between themselves and any of their neighbours, first carry on negotiations with them, and whenever they do not receive reasonable satisfaction, then finally go against them in war. But he first comes into the midst of the Romans, and then begins to offer suggestions concerning peace." With such words as these he dismissed the ambassador. And when Abandanes came to Chosroes, he advised him to take his departure with all possible speed. For he said he had met a general who in manliness and sagacity surpassed all other men, and soldiers such as he at least had never seen, whose orderly conduct had roused in him the greatest admiration. And he added that the contest was not on an even footing as regards risk for him and for Belisarius, for there was this difference, that if he conquered, he himself would conquer the slave of Caesar, but if he by any chance were defeated, he would bring great disgrace upon his kingdom and upon the race of the Persians; and again the Romans, if conquered, could easily save themselves in strongholds and in their own land, while if the Persians should meet with any reverse, not even a messenger would escape to the land of the Persians. Chosroes was convinced by this admonition and wished to turn back to his own country, but he found himself in a very perplexing situation. For he supposed that the crossing of the river was being guarded by the enemy, and he was unable to march back by the same road, which was entirely destitute of human habitation, since the supplies which they had at the first when they invaded the land of the Romans had already entirely failed them. At last after long consideration it seemed to him most advantageous to risk a battle and get to the opposite side, and to make the journey through a land abounding in all good things. Now Belisarius knew well that not even a hundred thousand men would ever be sufficient to check the crossing of Chosroes. For the river at many places along there can be crossed in boats very easily, and even apart from this the Persian army was too strong to be excluded from the crossing by an enemy numerically insignificant. But he had at first commanded the troops of Diogenes and Adolius, together with the thousand horsemen, to move about the bank at that point in order to confuse the barbarian by a feeling of helplessness. But after frightening this same barbarian, as I have said, Belisarius feared lest there should be some obstacle in the way of his departing from the land of the Romans. For it seemed to him a most significant achievement to have driven away from there the army of Chosroes, without risking any battle against so many myriads of barbarians with soldiers who were very few in number and who were in abject terror of the Median army. For this reason he commanded Diogenes and Adolius to remain quiet. Chosroes, accordingly, constructed a bridge with great celerity and crossed the River Euphrates suddenly with his whole army. For the Persians are able to cross all rivers without the slightest difficulty because when they are on the march they have in readiness hook-shaped irons with which they fasten together long timbers, and with the help of these they improvise a bridge on the spur of the moment wherever they may desire. And as soon as he had reached the land on the opposite side, he sent to Belisarius and said that he, for his part, had bestowed a favour upon the Romans in the withdrawal of the Median army, and that he was expecting the envoys from them, who ought to present themselves to him at no distant time. Then Belisarius also with the whole Roman army crossed the River Euphrates and immediately sent to Chosroes. And when the messengers came into his presence, they commended him highly for his withdrawal and promised that envoys would come to him promptly from the emperor, who would arrange with him that the terms which had previously been agreed upon concerning the peace should be put into effect. And they asked of him that he treat the Romans as his friends in his journey through their land. This too he agreed to carry out, if they should give him some one of their notable men as a hostage to make this compact binding, in order that they might carry out their agreement. So the envoys returned to Belisarius and reported the words of Chosroes, and he came to Edessa and chose John, the son of Basilius, the most illustrious of all the inhabitants of Edessa in birth and in wealth, and straightway sent him, much against his will, as a hostage to Chosroes. And the Romans were loud in their praises of Belisarius and he seemed to have achieved greater glory in their eyes by this affair than when he brought Gelimer or Vittigis captive to Byzantium. For in reality it was an achievement of great importance and one deserving great praise, that, at a time when all the Romans were panic-stricken with fear and were hiding themselves in their defences, and Chosroes with a mighty army had come into the midst of the Roman domain, a general with only a few men, coming in hot haste from Byzantium just at that moment, should have set his camp over against that of the Persian king, and that Chosroes unexpectedly, either through fear of fortune or of the valour of the man or even because deceived by some tricks, should no longer continue his advance, but should in reality take to flight, though pretending to be seeking peace. But in the meantime Chosroes, disregarding the agreement, took the city of Callinicus which was entirely without defenders. For the Romans, seeing that the wall of this city was altogether unsound and easy of capture, were tearing down portions of it in turn and restoring them with new construction. Now just at that time they had torn down one section of it and had not yet built in this interval; when, therefore, they learned that the enemy were close at hand, they carried out the most precious of their treasures, and the wealthy inhabitants withdrew to other strongholds, while the rest without soldiers remained where they were. And it happened that great numbers of farmers had gathered there. These Chosroes enslaved and razed everything to the ground. A little later, upon receiving the hostage, John, he retired to his own country. And the Armenians who had submitted to Chosroes received pledges from the Romans and came with Bassaces to Byzantium. Such was the fortune of the Romans in the third invasion of Chosroes. And Belisarius came to Byzantium at the summons of the emperor, in order to be sent again to Italy, since the situation there was already full of difficulties for the Romans. XXII [542 A.D.] During these times there was a pestilence, by which the whole human race came near to being annihilated. Now in the case of all other scourges sent from Heaven some explanation of a cause might be given by daring men, such as the many theories propounded by those who are clever in these matters; for they love to conjure up causes which are absolutely incomprehensible to man, and to fabricate outlandish theories of natural philosophy, knowing well that they are saying nothing sound, but considering it sufficient for them, if they completely deceive by their argument some of those whom they meet and persuade them to their view. But for this calamity it is quite impossible either to express in words or to conceive in thought any explanation, except indeed to refer it to God. For it did not come in a part of the world nor upon certain men, nor did it confine itself to any season of the year, so that from such circumstances it might be possible to find subtle explanations of a cause, but it embraced the entire world, and blighted the lives of all men, though differing from one another in the most marked degree, respecting neither sex nor age. For much as men differ with regard to places in which they live, or in the law of their daily life, or in natural bent, or in active pursuits, or in whatever else man differs from man, in the case of this disease alone the difference availed naught. And it attacked some in the summer season, others in the winter, and still others at the other times of the year. Now let each one express his own judgment concerning the matter, both sophist and astrologer, but as for me, I shall proceed to tell where this disease originated and the manner in which it destroyed men. It started from the Aegyptians who dwell in Pelusium. Then it divided and moved in one direction towards Alexandria and the rest of Aegypt, and in the other direction it came to Palestine on the borders of Aegypt; and from there it spread over the whole world, always moving forward and travelling at times favourable to it. For it seemed to move by fixed arrangement, and to tarry for a specified time in each country, casting its blight slightingly upon none, but spreading in either direction right out to the ends of the world, as if fearing lest some corner of the earth might escape it. For it left neither island nor cave nor mountain ridge which had human inhabitants; and if it had passed by any land, either not affecting the men there or touching them in indifferent fashion, still at a later time it came back; then those who dwelt round about this land, whom formerly it had afflicted most sorely, it did not touch at all, but it did not remove from the place in question until it had given up its just and proper tale of dead, so as to correspond exactly to the number destroyed at the earlier time among those who dwelt round about. And this disease always took its start from the coast, and from there went up to the interior. And in the second year it reached Byzantium in the middle of spring, where it happened that I was staying at that time. And it came as follows. Apparitions of supernatural beings in human guise of every description were seen by many persons, and those who encountered them thought that they were struck by the man they had met in this or that part of the body, as it happened, and immediately upon seeing this apparition they were seized also by the disease. Now at first those who met these creatures tried to turn them aside by uttering the holiest of names and exorcising them in other ways as well as each one could, but they accomplished absolutely nothing, for even in the sanctuaries where the most of them fled for refuge they were dying constantly. But later on they were unwilling even to give heed to their friends when they called to them, and they shut themselves up in their rooms and pretended that they did not hear, although their doors were being beaten down, fearing, obviously, that he who was calling was one of those demons. But in the case of some the pestilence did not come on in this way, but they saw a vision in a dream and seemed to suffer the very same thing at the hands of the creature who stood over them, or else to hear a voice foretelling to them that they were written down in the number of those who were to die. But with the majority it came about that they were seized by the disease without becoming aware of what was coming either through a waking vision or a dream. And they were taken in the following manner. They had a sudden fever, some when just roused from sleep, others while walking about, and others while otherwise engaged, without any regard to what they were doing. And the body shewed no change from its previous colour, nor was it hot as might be expected when attacked by a fever, nor indeed did any inflammation set in, but the fever was of such a languid sort from its commencement and up till evening that neither to the sick themselves nor to a physician who touched them would it afford any suspicion of danger. It was natural, therefore, that not one of those who had contracted the disease expected to die from it. But on the same day in some cases, in others on the following day, and in the rest not many days later, a bubonic swelling developed; and this took place not only in the particular part of the body which is called "boubon,"[16] that is, below the abdomen, but also inside the armpit, and in some cases also beside the ears, and at different points on the thighs. Up to this point, then, everything went in about the same way with all who had taken the disease. But from then on very marked differences developed; and I am unable to say whether the cause of this diversity of symptoms was to be found in the difference in bodies, or in the fact that it followed the wish of Him who brought the disease into the world. For there ensued with some a deep coma, with others a violent delirium, and in either case they suffered the characteristic symptoms of the disease. For those who were under the spell of the coma forgot all those who were familiar to them and seemed to be sleeping constantly. And if anyone cared for them, they would eat without waking, but some also were neglected, and these would die directly through lack of sustenance. But those who were seized with delirium suffered from insomnia and were victims of a distorted imagination; for they suspected that men were coming upon them to destroy them, and they would become excited and rush off in flight, crying out at the top of their voices. And those who were attending them were in a state of constant exhaustion and had a most difficult time of it throughout. For this reason everybody pitied them no less than the sufferers, not because they were threatened by the pestilence in going near it (for neither physicians nor other persons were found to contract this malady through contact with the sick or with the dead, for many who were constantly engaged either in burying or in attending those in no way connected with them held out in the performance of this service beyond all expectation, while with many others the disease came on without warning and they died straightway); but they pitied them because of the great hardships which they were undergoing. For when the patients fell from their beds and lay rolling upon the floor, they, kept patting them back in place, and when they were struggling to rush headlong out of their houses, they would force them back by shoving and pulling against them. And when water chanced to be near, they wished to fall into it, not so much because of a desire for drink (for the most of them rushed into the sea), but the cause was to be found chiefly in the diseased state of their minds. They had also great difficulty in the matter of eating, for they could not easily take food. And many perished through lack of any man to care for them, for they were either overcome by hunger, or threw themselves down from a height. And in those cases where neither coma nor delirium came on, the bubonic swelling became mortified and the sufferer, no longer able to endure the pain, died. And one would suppose that in all cases the same thing would have been true, but since they were not at all in their senses, some were quite unable to feel the pain; for owing to the troubled condition of their minds they lost all sense of feeling. Now some of the physicians who were at a loss because the symptoms were not understood, supposing that the disease centred in the bubonic swellings, decided to investigate the bodies of the dead. And upon opening some of the swellings, they found a strange sort of carbuncle that had grown inside them. Death came in some cases immediately, in others after many days; and with some the body broke out with black pustules about as large as a lentil and these did not survive even one day, but all succumbed immediately. With many also a vomiting of blood ensued without visible cause and straightway brought death. Moreover I am able to declare this, that the most illustrious physicians predicted that many would die, who unexpectedly escaped entirely from suffering shortly afterwards, and that they declared that many would be saved, who were destined to be carried off almost immediately. So it was that in this disease there was no cause which came within the province of human reasoning; for in all cases the issue tended to be something unaccountable. For example, while some were helped by bathing, others were harmed in no less degree. And of those who received no care many died, but others, contrary to reason, were saved. And again, methods of treatment shewed different results with different patients. Indeed the whole matter may be stated thus, that no device was discovered by man to save himself, so that either by taking precautions he should not suffer, or that when the malady had assailed him he should get the better of it; but suffering came without warning and recovery was due to no external cause. And in the case of women who were pregnant death could be certainly foreseen if they were taken with the disease. For some died through miscarriage, but others perished immediately at the time of birth with the infants they bore. However, they say that three women in confinement survived though their children perished, and that one woman died at the very time of child-birth but that the child was born and survived. Now in those cases where the swelling rose to an unusual size and a discharge of pus had set in, it came about that they escaped from the disease and survived, for clearly the acute condition of the carbuncle had found relief in this direction, and this proved to be in general an indication of returning health; but in cases where the swelling preserved its former appearance there ensued those troubles which I have just mentioned. And with some of them it came about that the thigh was withered, in which case, though the swelling was there, it did not develop the least suppuration. With others who survived the tongue did not remain unaffected, and they lived on either lisping or speaking incoherently and with difficulty. XXIII Now the disease in Byzantium ran a course of four months, and its greatest virulence lasted about three. And at first the deaths were a little more than the normal, then the mortality rose still higher, and afterwards the tale of dead reached five thousand each day, and again it even came to ten thousand and still more than that. Now in the beginning each man attended to the burial of the dead of his own house, and these they threw even into the tombs of others, either escaping detection or using violence; but afterwards confusion and disorder everywhere became complete. For slaves remained destitute of masters, and men who in former times were very prosperous were deprived of the service of their domestics who were either sick or dead, and many houses became completely destitute of human inhabitants. For this reason it came about that some of the notable men of the city because of the universal destitution remained unburied for many days. And it fell to the lot of the emperor, as was natural, to make provision for the trouble. He therefore detailed soldiers from the palace and distributed money, commanding Theodorus to take charge of this work; this man held the position of announcer of imperial messages, always announcing to the emperor the petitions of his clients, and declaring to them in turn whatever his wish was. In the Latin tongue the Romans designate this office by the term "referendarius." So those who had not as yet fallen into complete destitution in their domestic affairs attended individually to the burial of those connected with them. But Theodorus, by giving out the emperor's money and by making further expenditures from his own purse, kept burying the bodies which were not cared for. And when it came about that all the tombs which had existed previously were filled with the dead, then they dug up all the places about the city one after the other, laid the dead there, each one as he could, and departed; but later on those who were making these trenches, no longer able to keep up with the number of the dying, mounted the towers of the fortifications in Sycae[17], and tearing off the roofs threw the bodies in there in complete disorder; and they piled them up just as each one happened to fall, and filled practically all the towers with corpses, and then covered them again with their roofs. As a result of this an evil stench pervaded the city and distressed the inhabitants still more, and especially whenever the wind blew fresh from that quarter. At that time all the customary rites of burial were overlooked. For the dead were not carried out escorted by a procession in the customary manner, nor were the usual chants sung over them, but it was sufficient if one carried on his shoulders the body of one of the dead to the parts of the city which bordered on the sea and flung him down; and there the corpses would be thrown upon skiffs in a heap, to be conveyed wherever it might chance. At that time, too, those of the population who had formerly been members of the factions laid aside their mutual enmity and in common they attended to the burial rites of the dead, and they carried with their own hands the bodies of those who were no connections of theirs and buried them. Nay, more, those who in times past used to take delight in devoting themselves to pursuits both shameful and base, shook off the unrighteousness of their daily lives and practised the duties of religion with diligence, not so much because they had learned wisdom at last nor because they had become all of a sudden lovers of virtue, as it were--for when qualities have become fixed in men by nature or by the training of a long period of time, it is impossible for them to lay them aside thus lightly, except, indeed, some divine influence for good has breathed upon them--but then all, so to speak, being thoroughly terrified by the things which were happening, and supposing that they would die immediately, did, as was natural, learn respectability for a season by sheer necessity. Therefore as soon as they were rid of the disease and were saved, and already supposed that they were in security, since the curse had moved on to other peoples, then they turned sharply about and reverted once more to their baseness of heart, and now, more than before, they make a display of the inconsistency of their conduct, altogether surpassing themselves in villainy and in lawlessness of every sort. For one could insist emphatically without falsehood that this disease, whether by chance or by some providence, chose out with exactitude the worst men and let them go free. But these things were displayed to the world in later times. During that time it seemed no easy thing to see any man in the streets of Byzantium, but all who had the good fortune to be in health were sitting in their houses, either attending the sick or mourning the dead. And if one did succeed in meeting a man going out, he was carrying one of the dead. And work of every description ceased, and all the trades were abandoned by the artisans, and all other work as well, such as each had in hand. Indeed in a city which was simply abounding in all good things starvation almost absolute was running riot. Certainly it seemed a difficult and very notable thing to have a sufficiency of bread or of anything else; so that with some of the sick it appeared that the end of life came about sooner than it should have come by reason of the lack of the necessities of life. And, to put all in a word, it was not possible to see a single man in Byzantium clad in the chlamys[18], and especially when the emperor became ill (for he too had a swelling of the groin), but in a city which held dominion over the whole Roman empire every man was wearing clothes befitting private station and remaining quietly at home. Such was the course of the pestilence in the Roman empire at large as well as in Byzantium. And it fell also upon the land of the Persians and visited all the other barbarians besides. XXIV [545 A.D.] Now it happened that Chosroes had come from Assyria to a place toward the north called Adarbiganon, from which he was planning to make an invasion into the Roman domain through Persarmenia. In that place is the great sanctuary of fire, which the Persians reverence above all other gods. There the fire is guarded unquenched by the Magi, and they perform carefully a great number of sacred rites, and in particular they consult an oracle on those matters which are of the greatest importance. This is the fire which the Romans worshipped under the name of Hestia[19] in ancient times. There someone who had been sent from Byzantium to Chosroes announced that Constantianus and Sergius would come before him directly as envoys to arrange the treaty. Now these two men were both trained speakers and exceedingly clever; Constantianus was an Illyrian by birth, and Sergius was from the city of Edessa in Mesopotamia. And Chosroes remained quiet expecting these men. But in the course of the journey thither Constantianus became ill and much time was consumed; in the meantime it came about that the pestilence fell upon the Persians. For this reason Nabedes, who at that time held the office of general in Persarmenia, sent the priest of the Christians in Dubios by direction of the king to Valerianus, the general in Armenia, in order to reproach the envoys for their tardiness and to urge the Romans with all zeal toward peace. And he came with his brother to Armenia, and, meeting Valerianus, declared that he himself, as a Christian, was favourably disposed toward the Romans, and that the king Chosroes always followed his advice in every matter; so that if the ambassadors would come with him to the land of Persia, there would be nothing to prevent them from arranging the peace as they wished. Thus then spoke the priest; but the brother of the priest met Valerianus secretly and said that Chosroes was in great straits: for his son had risen against him in an attempt to set up a tyranny, and he himself together with the whole Persian army had been taken with the plague; and this was the reason why he wished just now to settle the agreement with the Romans. When Valerianus heard this, he straightway dismissed the bishop, promising that the envoys would come to Chosroes at no distant time, but he himself reported the words which he had heard to the Emperor Justinian. This led the emperor immediately to send word to him and to Martinus and the other commanders to invade the enemy's territory as quickly as possible. For he knew well that no one of the enemy would stand in their way. And he commanded them to gather all in one place and so make their invasion into Persarmenia. When the commanders received these letters, all of them together with their followers began to gather into the land of Armenia. And already Chosroes had abandoned Adarbiganon a little before through fear of the plague and was off with his whole army into Assyria, where the pestilence had not as yet become epidemic. Valerianus accordingly encamped close by Theodosiopolis with the troops under him; and with him was arrayed Narses, who had with him Armenians and some of the Eruli. And Martinus, the General of the East, together with Ildiger and Theoctistus, reached the fortress of Citharizon, and fixing his camp there, remained on the spot. This fortress is separated from Theodosiopolis by a journey of four days. There too Peter came not long afterwards together with Adolius and some other commanders. Now the troops in this region were commanded by Isaac, the brother of Narses. And Philemouth and Beros with the Eruli who were under them came into the territory of Chorzianene, not far from the camp of Martinus. And Justus, the emperor's nephew, and Peranius and John, the son of Nicetas, together with Domentiolus and John, who was called the Glutton, made camp near the place called Phison, which is close by the boundaries of Martyropolis. Thus then were encamped the Roman commanders with their troops; and the whole army amounted to thirty thousand men. Now all these troops were neither gathered into one place, nor indeed was there any general meeting for conference. But the generals sent to each other some of their followers and began to make enquiries concerning the invasion. Suddenly, however, Peter, without communicating with anyone, and without any careful consideration, invaded the hostile land with his troops. And when on the following day this was found out by Philemouth and Beros, the leaders of the Eruli, they straightway followed. And when this in turn came to the knowledge of Martinus and Valerianus and their men, they quickly joined in the invasion. And all of them a little later united with each other in the enemy's territory, with the exception of Justus and his men, who, as I have said, had encamped far away from the rest of the army, and learned later of their invasion; then, indeed, they also invaded the territory of the enemy as quickly as possible at the point where they were, but failed altogether to unite with the other commanders. As for the others, they proceeded in a body straight for Doubios, neither plundering nor damaging in any other way the land of the Persians. XXV Now Doubios is a land excellent in every respect, and especially blessed with a healthy climate and abundance of good water; and from Theodosiopolis it is removed a journey of eight days. In that region there are plains suitable for riding, and many very populous villages are situated in very close proximity to one another, and numerous merchants conduct their business in them. For from India and the neighbouring regions of Iberia and from practically all the nations of Persia and some of those under Roman sway they bring in merchandise and carry on their dealings with each other there. And the priest of the Christians is called "Catholicos" in the Greek tongue, because he presides alone over the whole region. Now at a distance of about one hundred and twenty stades from Doubios on the right as one travels from the land of the Romans, there is a mountain difficult of ascent and moreover precipitous, and a village crowded into very narrow space by the rough country about, Anglon by name. Thither Nabedes withdrew with his whole army as soon as he learned of the inroad of the enemy, and, confident in his strength of position, he shut himself in. Now the village lies at the extremity of the mountain, and there is a strong fortress bearing the same name as this village on the steep mountain side. So Nabedes with stones and carts blocked up the entrances into the village and thus made it still more difficult of access. And in front of it he dug a sort of trench and stationed the army there, having filled some old cabins with ambuscades of infantrymen Altogether the Persian army amounted to four thousand men. While these things were being done in this way, the Romans reached a place one day's journey distant from Anglon, and capturing one of the enemy who was going out as a spy they enquired where in the world Nabedes was then. And he asserted that the man had retired from Anglon with the whole Median army. And when Narses heard this, he was indignant, and he heaped reproaches and abuse upon his fellow-commanders for their hesitation. And others, too, began to do the very same thing, casting insults upon one another; and from then on, giving up all thought of battle and danger, they were eager to plunder the country thereabout. The troops broke camp, accordingly, and without the guidance of generals and without observing any definite formation, they moved forward in complete confusion; for neither had they any countersign among themselves, as is customary in such perilous situations, nor were they arranged in their proper divisions. For the soldiers marched forward, mixed in with the baggage train, as if going to the ready plunder of great wealth. But when they came near to Anglon, they sent out spies who returned to them announcing the array of the enemy. And the generals were thunder-struck by the unexpectedness of it, but they considered it altogether disgraceful and unmanly to turn back with an army of such great size, and so they disposed the army in its three divisions, as well as the circumstances permitted, and advanced straight toward the enemy. Now Peter held the right wing and Valerianus the left, while Martinus and his men arrayed themselves in the centre. And when they came close to their opponents, they halted, preserving their formation, but not without disorder. The cause for this was to be found in the difficulty of the ground, which was very badly broken up, and in the fact that they were entering battle in a formation arranged on the spur of the moment. And up to this time the barbarians, who had gathered themselves into a small space, were remaining quiet, considering the strength of their antagonists, since the order had been given them by Nabedes not under any circumstances to begin the fighting, but if the enemy should assail them, to defend themselves with all their might. And first Narses with the Eruli and those of the Romans who were under him, engaged with the enemy, and after a hard hand-to-hand struggle, he routed the Persians who were before him. And the barbarians in flight ascended on the run to the fortress, and in so doing they inflicted terrible injury upon one another in the narrow way. And then Narses urged his men forward and pressed still harder upon the enemy, and the rest of the Romans joined in the action. But all of a sudden the men who were in ambush, as has been said[20], came out from the cabins along the narrow alleys, and killed some of the Eruli, falling unexpectedly upon them, and they struck Narses himself a blow on the temple. And his brother Isaac carried him out from among the fighting men, mortally wounded. And he died shortly afterwards, having proved himself a brave man in this engagement. Then, as was to be expected, great confusion fell upon the Roman army, and Nabedes let out the whole Persian force upon his opponents. And the Persians, shooting into great masses of the enemy in the narrow alleys, killed a large number without difficulty, and particularly of the Eruli who had at the first fallen upon the enemy with Narses and were fighting for the most part without protection. For the Eruli have neither helmet nor corselet nor any other protective armour, except a shield and a thick jacket, which they gird about them before they enter a struggle. And indeed the Erulian slaves go into battle without even a shield, and when they prove themselves brave men in war, then their masters permit them to protect themselves in battle with shields. Such is the custom of the Eruli. And the Romans did not withstand the enemy and all of them fled as fast as they could, never once thinking of resistance and heedless of shame or of any other worthy motive. But the Persians, suspecting that they had not turned thus to a shameless flight, but that they were making use of some ambuscades against them, pursued them as far as the rough ground extended and then turned back, not daring to fight a decisive battle on level ground, a few against many. The Romans, however, and especially all the generals, supposing that the enemy were continuing the pursuit without pause, kept fleeing still faster, wasting not a moment; and they were urging on their horses as they ran with whip and voice, and throwing their corselets and other accoutrements in haste and confusion to the ground. For they had not the courage to array themselves against the Persians if they overtook them, but they placed all hope of safety in their horses' feet, and, in short, the flight became such that scarcely any one of their horses survived, but when they stopped running, they straightway fell down and expired. And this proved a disaster for the Romans so great as to exceed anything that had ever befallen them previously. For great numbers of them perished and still more fell into the hands of the enemy. And their weapons and draught animals which were taken by the enemy amounted to such an imposing number that Persia seemed as a result of this affair to have become richer. And Adolius, while passing through a fortified place during this retreat--it was situated in Persarmenia--was struck on the head by a stone thrown by one of the inhabitants of the town, and died there. As for the forces of Justus and Peranius, they invaded the country about Taraunon, and after gathering some little plunder, immediately returned. XXVI [544 A.D.] And in the following year, Chosroes, the son of Cabades, for the fourth time invaded the land of the Romans, leading his army towards Mesopotamia. Now this invasion was made by this Chosroes not against Justinian, the Emperor of the Romans, nor indeed against any other man, but only against the God whom the Christians reverence. For when in the first invasion he retired, after failing to capture Edessa[21], both he and the Magi, since they had been worsted by the God of the Christians, fell into a great dejection. Wherefore Chosroes, seeking to allay it, uttered a threat in the palace that he would make slaves of all the inhabitants of Edessa and bring them to the land of Persia, and would turn the city into a pasture for sheep. Accordingly when he had approached the city of Edessa with his whole army, he sent some of the Huns who were following him against that portion of the fortifications of the city which is above the hippodrome, with the purpose of doing no further injury than seizing the flocks which the shepherds had stationed there along the wall in great numbers: for they were confident in the strength of the place, since it was exceedingly steep, and supposed that the enemy would never dare to come so very close to the wall. So the barbarians were already laying hold of the sheep, and the shepherds were trying most valiantly to prevent them. And when a great number of Persians had come to the assistance of the Huns, the barbarians succeeded in detaching something of a flock from there, but Roman soldiers and some of the populace made a sally upon the enemy and the battle became a hand-to-hand struggle; meanwhile the flock of its own accord returned again to the shepherds. Now one of the Huns who was fighting before the others was making more trouble for the Romans than all the rest. And some rustic made a good shot and hit him on the right knee with a sling, and he immediately fell headlong from his horse to the ground, which thing heartened the Romans still more. And the battle which had begun early in the morning ended at midday, and both sides withdrew from the engagement thinking that they had the advantage. So the Romans went inside the fortifications, while the barbarians pitched their tents and made camp in a body about seven stades from the city. Then Chosroes either saw some vision or else the thought occurred to him that if, after making two attempts, he should not be able to capture Edessa, he would thereby cover himself with much disgrace. Accordingly he decided to sell his withdrawal to the citizens of Edessa for a great sum of money. On the following day, therefore, Paulus the interpreter came along by the wall and said that some of the Roman notables should be sent to Chosroes. And they with all speed chose out four of their illustrious men and sent them. When these men reached the Median camp, they were met according to the king's order by Zaberganes, who first terrified them with many threats and then enquired of them which course was the more desirable for them, whether that leading to peace, or that leading to war. And when the envoys agreed that they would choose peace rather than the dangers of war, Zaberganes replied: "Therefore it is necessary for you to purchase this for a great sum of money." And the envoys said that they would give as much as they had provided before, when he came against them after capturing Antioch. And Zaberganes dismissed them with laughter, telling them to deliberate most carefully concerning their safety and then to come again to the Persians. And a little later Chosroes summoned them, and when they came before him, he recounted how many Roman towns he had previously enslaved and in what manner he had accomplished it; then he threatened that the inhabitants of Edessa would receive more direful treatment at the hands of the Persians, unless they should give them all the wealth which they had inside the fortifications; for only on this condition, he said, would the army depart. When the envoys heard this, they agreed that they would purchase peace from Chosroes, if only he would not prescribe impossible conditions for them: but the outcome of a conflict, they said, was plainly seen by no one at all before the struggle. For there was never a war whose outcome might be taken for granted by those who waged it. Thereupon Chosroes in anger commanded the envoys to be gone with all speed. On the eighth day of the siege he formed the design of erecting an artificial hill against the circuit wall of the city; accordingly he cut down trees in great numbers from the adjacent districts and, without removing the leaves, laid them together in a square before the wall, at a point which no missile from the city could reach; then he heaped an immense amount of earth right upon the trees and above that threw on a great quantity of stones, not such as are suitable for building, but cut at random, and only calculated to raise the hill as quickly as possible to a great height. And he kept laying on long timbers in the midst of the earth and the stones, and made them serve to bind the structure together, in order that as it became high it should not be weak. But Peter, the Roman general (for he happened to be there with Martinus and Peranius), wishing to check the men who were engaged in this work, sent some of the Huns who were under his command against them. And they, by making a sudden attack, killed a great number; and one of the guardsmen, Argek by name, surpassed all others, for he alone killed twenty-seven. From that time on, however, the barbarians kept a careful guard, and there was no further opportunity for anyone to go out against them. But when the artisans engaged in this work, as they moved forward, came within range of missiles, then the Romans offered a most vigorous resistance from the city wall, using both their slings and their bows against them. Wherefore the barbarians devised the following plan. They provided screens of goat's hair cloth, of the kind which are called Cilician, making them of adequate thickness and height, and attached them to long pieces of wood which they always set before those who were working on the "agesta"[22] (for thus the Romans used to call in the Latin tongue the thing which they were making). Behind this neither ignited arrows nor any other weapon could reach the workmen, but all of them were thrown back by the screens and stopped there. And then the Romans, falling into a great fear, sent the envoys to Chosroes in great trepidation, and with them Stephanus, a physician of marked learning among those of his time at any rate, who also had once cured Cabades, the son of Perozes, when ill, and had been made master of great wealth by him. He, therefore, coming into the presence of Chosroes with the others, spoke as follows: "It has been agreed by all from of old that kindness is the mark of a good king. Therefore, most mighty King, while busying thyself with murders and battles and the enslavement of cities it will perhaps be possible for thee to win the other names, but thou wilt never by any means have the reputation of being 'good.' And yet least of all cities should Edessa suffer any adversity at thy hand. For there was I born, who, without any foreknowledge of what was coming to pass, fostered thee from childhood and counselled thy father to appoint thee his successor in the kingdom, so that to thee I have proved the chief cause of the kingship of Persia, but to my fatherland of her present woes. For men, as a general thing, bring down upon their own heads the most of the misfortunes which are going to befall them. But if any remembrance of such benefaction comes to thy mind, do us no further injury, and grant me this requital, by which, O King, thou wilt escape the reputation of being most cruel." Such were the words of Stephanus. But Chosroes declared that he would not depart from there until the Romans should deliver to him Peter and Peranius, seeing that, being his hereditary slaves, they had dared to array themselves against him. And if it was not their pleasure to do this, the Romans must choose one of two alternatives, either to give the Persians five hundred centenaria of gold, or to receive into the city some of his associates who would search out all the money, both gold and silver, as much as was there, and bring it to him, allowing everything else to remain in the possession of the present owners. Such then were the words which Chosroes hurled forth, being in hopes of capturing Edessa with no trouble. And the ambassadors (since all the conditions which he had announced to them seemed impossible), in despair and great vexation, proceeded to the city. And when they had come inside the city-wall, they reported the message from Chosroes, and the whole city was filled with tumult and lamentation. Now the artificial hill was rising to a great height and was being pushed forward with much haste. And the Romans, being at a loss what to do, again sent off the envoys to Chosroes. And when they had arrived in the enemy's camp, and said that they had come to make entreaty concerning the same things, they did not even gain a hearing of any kind from the Persians, but they were insulted and driven out from there with a great tumult, and so returned to the city. At first, then, the Romans tried to over-top the wall opposite the hill by means of another structure. But since the Persian work was already rising far above even this, they stopped their building and persuaded Martinus to make the arrangements for a settlement in whatever way he wished. He then came up close to the enemy's camp and began to converse with some of the Persian commanders. But they, completely deceiving Martinus, said that their king was desirous of peace, but that he was utterly unable to persuade the Roman Emperor to have done with his strife with Chosroes and to establish peace with him at last. And they mentioned as evidence of this the fact that Belisarius, who in power and dignity was far superior to Martinus, as even he himself would not deny, had recently persuaded the king of the Persians, when he was in the midst of Roman territory, to withdraw from there into Persia, promising that envoys from Byzantium would come to him at no distant time and establish peace securely, but that he had done none of the things agreed upon, since he had found himself unable to overcome the determination of the Emperor Justinian. XXVII In the meantime the Romans were busying themselves as follows: They made a tunnel from the city underneath the enemy's embankment, commanding the diggers not to leave this work until they should get under the middle of the hill. By this means they were planning to burn the embankment. But as the tunnel advanced to about the middle of the hill, a sound of blows, as it were, came to the ears of those Persians who were standing above. And perceiving what was being done, they too began from above and dug on both sides of the middle, so that they might catch the Romans who were doing the damage there. But the Romans found it out and abandoned this attempt, throwing earth into the place which had been hollowed out, and then began to work on the lower part of the embankment at the end which was next to the wall, and by taking out timbers and stones and earth they made an open space just like a chamber; then they threw in there dry trunks of trees of the kind which burn most easily, and saturated them with oil of cedar and added quantities of sulphur and bitumen. So, then, they were keeping these things in readiness; and meanwhile the Persian commanders in frequent meetings with Martinus were carrying on conversations with him in the same strain as the one I have mentioned, making it appear that they would receive proposals in regard to peace. But when at last their hill had been completed, and had been raised to a great elevation, approaching the circuit-wall of the city and rising far above it in height, then they sent Martinus away, definitely refusing to arrange the treaty, and they intended from then on to devote themselves to active warfare. Accordingly the Romans straightway set fire to the tree-trunks which had been prepared for this purpose. But when the fire had burned only a certain portion of the embankment, and had not yet been able to penetrate through the whole mass, the wood was already entirely exhausted. But they kept throwing fresh wood into the pit, not slackening their efforts for a moment. And when the fire was already active throughout the whole embankment, some smoke appeared at night rising from every part of the hill, and the Romans, who were not yet willing to let the Persians know what was being done, resorted to the following device: They filled small pots with coals and fire and threw these and also ignited arrows in great numbers to all parts of the embankment. And the Persians who were keeping guard there, began to go about in great haste and extinguish these, and they supposed that the smoke arose from them. But since the trouble increased, the barbarians rushed up to help in great numbers, and the Romans, shooting them from the wall, killed many. And Chosroes too came there about sunrise, followed by the greater part of the army, and, upon mounting the hill, he first perceived what the trouble was. For he disclosed the fact that the cause of the smoke was underneath, not in the missiles which the enemy were hurling, and he ordered the whole army to come to the rescue with all speed. And the Romans, taking courage, began to insult them, while the barbarians were at work, some throwing on earth, and others water, where the smoke appeared, hoping thus to get the better of the trouble; however, they were absolutely unable to accomplish anything. For where the earth was thrown on, the smoke, as was natural, was checked at that place, but not long afterwards it rose from another place, since the fire compelled it to force its way out wherever it could. And where the water fell most plentifully it only succeeded in making the bitumen and the sulphur much more active, and caused them to exert their full force upon the wood near by; and it constantly drove the fire forward, since the water could not penetrate inside the embankment in a quantity at all sufficient to extinguish the flame by its abundance. And in the late afternoon the smoke became so great in volume that it was visible to the inhabitants of Carrhae and to some others who dwelt far beyond them. And since a great number of Persians and of Romans had gone up on top of the embankment, a fight took place and a hand-to-hand struggle to drive each other off, and the Romans were victorious. Then even the flames rose and appeared clearly above the embankment, and the Persians abandoned this undertaking. On the sixth day after this, at early dawn, they made an assault secretly upon a certain part of the circuit-wall with ladders, at the point which is called the Fort. And since the Romans who were keeping guard there were sleeping a quiet, peaceful sleep, as the night was drawing to its close, they silently set the ladders against the wall and were already ascending. But one of the rustics alone among the Romans happened to be awake, and he with a shout and a great noise began to rouse them all. And a hard struggle ensued in which the Persians were worsted, and they retired to their camp, leaving the ladders where they were; these the Romans drew up at their leisure. But Chosroes about midday sent a large part of the army against the so-called Great Gate in order to storm the wall. And the Romans went out and confronted them, not only soldiers, but even rustics and some of the populace, and they conquered the barbarians in battle decisively and turned them to flight. And while the Persians were still being pursued, Paulus, the interpreter, came from Chosroes, and going into the midst of the Romans, he reported that Rhecinarius had come from Byzantium to arrange the peace; and thus the two armies separated. Now it was already some days since Rhecinarius had arrived at the camp of the barbarians. But the Persians had by no means disclosed this fact to the Romans, plainly awaiting the outcome of the attempts upon the wall which they had planned, in order that, if they should be able to capture it, they might seem in no way to be violating the treaty, while if defeated, as actually happened, they might draw up the treaty at the invitation of the Romans. And when Rhecinarius had gone inside the gates, the Persians demanded that those who were to arrange the peace should come to Chosroes without any delay, but the Romans said that envoys would be sent three days later; for that just at the moment their general, Martinus, was unwell. And Chosroes, suspecting that the reason was not a sound one, prepared for battle. And at that time he only threw a great mass of bricks upon the embankment; but two days later he came against the fortifications of the city with the whole army to storm the wall. And at every gate he stationed some of the commanders and a part of the army, encircling the whole wall in this way, and he brought up ladders and war-engines against it. And in the rear he placed all the Saracens with some of the Persians, not in order to assault the wall, but in order that, when the city was captured, they might gather in the fugitives and catch them as in a drag-net. Such, then, was the purpose of Chosroes in arranging the army in this way. And the fighting began early in the morning, and at first the Persians had the advantage. For they were in great numbers and fighting against a very small force, since the most of the Romans had not heard what was going on and were utterly unprepared. But as the conflict advanced the city became full of confusion and tumult, and the whole population, even women and little children, were going up on to the wall. Now those who were of military age together with the soldiers were repelling the enemy most vigorously, and many of the rustics made a remarkable shew of valorous deeds against the barbarians. Meanwhile the women and children, and the aged also, were gathering stones for the fighters and assisting them in other ways. Some also filled numerous basins with olive-oil, and after heating them over fire a sufficient time everywhere along the wall, they sprinkled the oil, while boiling fiercely, upon the enemy who were assailing the wall, using a sort of whisk for the purpose, and in this way harassed them still more. The Persians, therefore, soon gave up and began to throw down their arms, and coming before the king, said that they were no longer able to hold out in the struggle. But Chosroes, in a passion of anger, drove them all on with threats and urged them forward against the enemy. And the soldiers with much shouting and tumult brought up the towers and the other engines of war to the wall and set the ladders against it, in order to capture the city with one grand rush. But since the Romans were hurling great numbers of missiles and exerting all their strength to drive them off, the barbarians were turned back by force; and as Chosroes withdrew, the Romans taunted him, inviting him to come and storm the wall. Only Azarethes at the so-called Soinian Gate was still fighting with his men, at the place which they call Tripurgia[23]. And since the Romans at this point were not a match for them, but were giving way before their assaults, already the outer wall, which they call an outwork, had been torn down by the barbarians in many places, and they were pressing most vigorously upon those who were defending themselves from the great circuit-wall; but at last Peranius with a large number of soldiers and some of the citizens went out against them and defeated them in battle and drove them off. And the assault which had begun early in the morning ended in the late afternoon, and both sides remained quiet that night, the Persians fearing for their defences and for themselves, and the Romans gathering stones and taking them to the parapets and putting everything else in complete readiness, so as to fight against the enemy on the morrow when they should attack the wall. Now on the succeeding day not one of the barbarians came against the fortifications; but on the day after that a portion of the army, urged on by Chosroes, made an assault upon the so-called Gate of Barlaus; but the Romans sallied forth and confronted them, and the Persians were decisively beaten in the engagement, and after a short time retired to the camp. And then Paulus, the interpreter of the Persians, came along by the wall and called for Martinus, in order that he might make the arrangements for the truce. Thus Martinus came to conference with the commanders of the Persians, and they concluded an agreement, by which Chosroes received five centenaria from the inhabitants of Edessa, and left them, in writing, the promise not to inflict any further injury upon the Romans; then, after setting fire to all his defences, he returned homeward with his whole army. XXVIII At about this time two generals of the Romans died, Justus, the nephew of the emperor, and Peranius, the Iberian, of whom the former succumbed to disease, while Peranius fell from his horse in hunting and suffered a fatal rupture. The emperor therefore appointed others in their places, dispatching Marcellus, his own nephew who was just arriving at the age of manhood, and Constantianus, who a little earlier had been sent as an envoy with Sergius to Chosroes. Then the Emperor Justinian sent Constantianus and Sergius a second time to Chosroes to arrange the truce. And they overtook him in Assyria, at the place where there are two towns, Seleucia and Ctesiphon, built by the Macedonians who after Alexander, the son of Philip, ruled over the Persians and the other nations there. These two towns are separated by the Tigris River only, for they have nothing else between them. There the envoys met Chosroes, and they demanded that he should give back to the Romans the country of Lazica, and establish peace with them on a thoroughly secure basis. But Chosroes said that it was not easy for them to come to terms with each other, unless they should first declare an armistice, and then should continue to go back and forth to each other without so much fear and settle their differences and make a peace which should be on a secure basis for the future. And it was necessary, he said, that in return for this continued armistice the Roman Emperor should give him money and should also send a certain physician, Tribunus by name, in order to spend some specified time with him. For it happened that this physician at a former time had rid him of a severe disease, and as a result of this he was especially beloved and greatly missed by him. When the Emperor Justinian heard this, he immediately sent both Tribunus and the money, amounting to twenty centenaria. [545 A.D.] In this way the treaty was made between the Romans and the Persians for five years, in the nineteenth year of the reign of the Emperor Justinian. And a little later Arethas and Alamoundaras, the rulers of the Saracens, waged a war against each other by themselves, unaided either by the Romans or the Persians. And Alamoundaras captured one of the sons of Arethas in a sudden raid while he was pasturing horses, and straightway sacrificed him to Aphrodite; and from this it was known that Arethas was not betraying the Romans to the Persians. Later they both came together in battle with their whole armies, and the forces of Arethas were overwhelmingly victorious, and turning their enemy to flight, they killed many of them. And Arethas came within a little of capturing alive two of the sons of Alamoundaras; however, he did not actually succeed. Such, then, was the course of events among the Saracens. But it became clear that Chosroes, the Persian king, had made the truce with the Romans with treacherous intent, in order that he might find them remiss on account of the peace and inflict upon them some grave injury. For in the third year of the truce he devised the following schemes. There were in Persia two brothers, Phabrizus and Isdigousnas, both holding most important offices there and at the same time reckoned to be the basest of all the Persians, and having a great reputation for their cleverness and evil ways. Accordingly, since Chosroes had formed the purpose of capturing the city of Daras by a sudden stroke, and to move all the Colchians out of Lazica and establish in their place Persian settlers, he selected these two men to assist him in both undertakings. For it seemed to him that it would be a lucky stroke and a really important achievement to win for himself the land of Colchis and to have it in secure possession, reasoning that this would be advantageous to the Persian empire in many ways. In the first place they would have Iberia in security forever afterwards, since the Iberians would not have anyone with whom, if they revolted, they might find safety; for since the most notable men of these barbarians together with their king, Gourgenes, had looked towards revolt, as I have stated in the preceding pages,[24] the Persians from that time on did not permit them to set up a king over themselves, nor were the Iberians single-minded subjects of the Persians, but there was much suspicion and distrust between them. And it was evident that the Iberians were most thoroughly dissatisfied and that they would attempt a revolution shortly if they could only seize upon some favourable opportunity. Furthermore, the Persian empire would be forever free from plunder by the Huns who lived next to Lazica, and he would send them against the Roman domains more easily and readily, whenever he should so desire. For he considered that, as regards the barbarians dwelling in the Caucasus, Lazica was nothing else than a bulwark against them. But most of all he hoped that the subjugation of Lazica would afford this advantage to the Persians, that starting from there they might overrun with no trouble both by land and by sea the countries along the Euxine Sea, as it is called, and thus win over the Cappadocians and the Galatians and Bithynians who adjoin them, and capture Byzantium by a sudden assault with no one opposing them. For these reasons, then, Chosroes was anxious to gain possession of Lazica, but in the Lazi he had not the least confidence. For since the time when the Romans had withdrawn from Lazica, the common people of the country naturally found the Persian rule burdensome. For the Persians are beyond all other men singular in their ways, and they are excessively rigid as regards the routine of daily life. And their laws are difficult of access for all men, and their requirements quite unbearable. But in comparison with the Lazi the difference of their thinking and living shews itself in an altogether exceptional degree, since the Lazi are Christians of the most thorough-going kind, while all the Persian views regarding religion are the exact opposite of theirs. And apart from this, salt is produced nowhere in Lazica, nor indeed does grain grow there nor the vine nor any other good thing. But from the Romans along the coast everything is brought in to them by ship, and even so they do not pay gold to the traders, but hides and slaves and whatever else happens to be found there in great abundance; and when they were excluded from this trade, they were, as was to be expected, in a state of constant vexation. When, therefore, Chosroes perceived this, he was eager to anticipate with certainty any move on their part to revolt against him. And upon considering the matter, it seemed to him to be the most advantageous course to put Goubazes, the king of the Lazi, out of the way as quickly as possible, and to move the Lazi in a body out of the country, and then to colonize this land with Persians and certain other nations. When Chosroes had matured these plans, he sent Isdigousnas to Byzantium, ostensibly to act as an envoy, and he picked out five hundred of the most valorous of the Persians and sent them with him, directing them to get inside the city of Daras, and to take their lodgings in many different houses, and at night to set these all on fire, and, while all the Romans were occupied with this fire, as was natural, to open the gates immediately, and receive the rest of the Persian army into the city. For word had been sent previously to the commander of the city of Nisibis to conceal a large force of soldiers near by and hold them in readiness. For in this way Chosroes thought that they would destroy all the Romans with no trouble, and seizing the city of Daras, would hold it securely. But someone who knew well what was being arranged, a Roman who had come to the Persians as a deserter a little earlier, told everything to George, who was staying there at the time; now this was the same man whom I mentioned in the preceding pages[25] as having persuaded the Persians who were besieged in the fortress of Sisauranon to surrender themselves to the Romans. George therefore met this ambassador at the boundary line between Roman and Persian soil and said that this thing he was doing was not after the fashion of an embassy, and that never had so numerous a body of Persians stopped for the night in a city of the Romans. For he ought, he said, to have left behind all the rest in the town of Ammodios, and must himself enter the city of Daras with some few men. Now Isdigousnas was indignant and appeared to take it ill, because he had been insulted wrongfully, in spite of the fact that he was dispatched on an embassy to the Roman emperor. But George, paying no heed to him in his fury, saved the city for the Romans. For he received Isdigousnas into the city with only twenty men. So having failed in this attempt, the barbarian came to Byzantium as if on an embassy, bringing with him his wife and two daughters (for this was his pretext for the crowd which had been gathered about him); but when he came before the emperor, he was unable to say anything great or small about any serious matter, although he wasted no less than ten months in Roman territory. However, he gave the emperor the gifts from Chosroes, as is customary, and a letter, in which Chosroes requested the Emperor Justinian to send word whether he was enjoying the best possible health. Nevertheless the Emperor Justinian received this Isdigousnas with more friendliness and treated him with greater honour than any of the other ambassadors of whom we know. So true was this that, whenever he entertained him, he caused Braducius, who followed him as interpreter, to recline with him on the couch, a thing which had never before happened in all time. For no one ever saw an interpreter become a table-companion of even one of the more humble officials, not to speak of a king. But he both received and dismissed this man in a style more splendid than that which befits an ambassador, although he had undertaken the embassy for no serious business, as I have said. For if anyone should count up the money expended and the gifts which Isdigousnas carried with him when he went away, he will find them amounting to more than ten centenaria of gold. So the plot against the city of Daras ended in this way for Chosroes. XXIX His first move against Lazica was as follows. He sent into the country a great amount of lumber suitable for the construction of ships, explaining to no one what his purpose was in so doing, but ostensibly he was sending it in order to set up engines of war on the fortifications of Petra. Next he chose out three hundred able warriors of the Persians, and sent them there under command of Phabrizus, whom I have lately mentioned, ordering him to make away with Goubazes as secretly as possible; as for the rest, he himself would take care. Now when this lumber had been conveyed to Lazica, it happened that it was struck suddenly by lightning and reduced to ashes. And Phabrizus, upon arriving in Lazica with the three hundred, began to contrive so that he might carry out the orders received by him from Chosroes regarding Goubazes. Now it happened that one of the men of note among the Colchians, Pharsanses by name, had quarrelled with Goubazes and in consequence had become exceedingly hostile to him, and now he did not dare at all to go into the presence of the king. When this was learned by Phabrizus, he summoned Pharsanses and in a conference with him disclosed the whole project, and enquired of the man in what way he ought to go about the execution of the deed. And it seemed best to them after deliberating together that Phabrizus should go into the city of Petra, and should summon Goubazes there, in order to announce to him what the king had decided concerning the interests of the Lazi. But Pharsanses secretly revealed to Goubazes what was being prepared. He, accordingly, did not come to Phabrizus at all, but began openly to plan a revolt. Then Phabrizus commanded the other Persians to attend as carefully as they could to the guarding of Petra, and to make everything as secure as possible against a siege, and he himself with the three hundred returned homeward without having accomplished his purpose. And Goubazes reported to the Emperor Justinian the condition in which they were, and begged him to grant forgiveness for what the Lazi had done in the past, and to come to their defence with all his strength, since they desired to be rid of the Median rule. For if left by themselves the Colchians would not be able to repel the power of the Persians. [549 A.D.] When the Emperor Justinian heard this, he was overjoyed, and sent seven thousand men under the leadership of Dagisthaeus and a thousand Tzani to the assistance of the Lazi. And when this force reached the land of Colchis, they encamped together with Goubazes and the Lazi about the fortifications of Petra and commenced a siege. But since the Persians who were there made a most stalwart defence from the wall, it came about that much time was spent in the siege; for the Persians had put away an ample store of victuals in the town. And Chosroes, being greatly disturbed by these things, dispatched a great army of horse and foot against the besiegers, putting Mermeroes in command of them. And when Goubazes learned of this, he considered the matter together with Dagisthaeus and acted in the manner which I shall presently set forth. The river Boas rises close to the territory of the Tzani among the Armenians who dwell around Pharangium. And at first its course inclines to the right for a great distance, and its stream is small and can be forded by anyone with no trouble as far as the place where the territory of the Iberians lies on the right, and the end of the Caucasus lies directly opposite. In that place many nations have their homes, and among them the Alani and Abasgi, who are Christians and friends of the Romans from of old; also the Zechi, and after them the Huns who bear the name Sabeiri. But when this river reaches the point which marks the termination of the Caucasus and of Iberia as well, there other waters also are added to it and it becomes much larger and from there flows on bearing the name of Phasis instead of Boas[26]; and it becomes a navigable stream as far as the so-called Euxine Sea into which it empties; and on either side of it lies Lazica. Now on the right of the stream particularly the whole country for a great distance is populated by the people of Lazica as far as the boundary of Iberia. For all the villages of the Lazi are here beyond the river, and towns have been built there from of old, among which are Archaeopolis, a very strong place, and Sebastopolis, and the fortress of Pitius, and Scanda and Sarapanis over against the boundary of Iberia. Moreover there are two cities of the greatest importance in that region, Rhodopolis and Mocheresis. But on the left of the river, while the country belongs to Lazica as far as one day's journey for an unencumbered traveller, the land is without human habitation. Adjoining this land is the home of the Romans who are called Pontic. Now it was in the territory of Lazica, in the part which was altogether uninhabited, that the Emperor Justinian founded the city of Petra in my own time. This was the place where John, surnamed Tzibus, established the monopoly, as I have told in the previous narrative[27], and gave cause to the Lazi to revolt. And as one leaves the city of Petra going southward, the Roman territory commences immediately, and there are populous towns there, and one which bears the name of Rhizaeum, also Athens and certain others as far as Trapezus. Now when the Lazi brought in Chosroes, they crossed the River Boas and came to Petra keeping the Phasis on the right, because, as they said, they would thus provide against being compelled to spend much time and trouble in ferrying the men across the River Phasis, but in reality they did not wish to display their own homes to the Persians. And yet Lazica is everywhere difficult to traverse both to the right and to the left of the River Phasis. For there are on both sides of the river exceedingly high and jagged mountains, and as a result the passes are narrow and very long. (The Romans call the roads through such passes "clisurae" when they put their own word into a Greek form.[28]) But since at that time Lazica happened to be unguarded, the Persians had reached Petra very easily with the Lazi who were their guides. But on this occasion Goubazes, upon learning of the advance of the Persians, directed Dagisthaeus to send some men to guard with all their strength the pass which is below the River Phasis, and he bade him not on any account to abandon the siege until they should be able to capture Petra and the Persians in it. He himself meanwhile with the whole Colchian army came to the frontier of Lazica, in order to devote all his strength to guarding the pass there. Now it happened that long before he had persuaded the Alani and Sabeiri to form an alliance with him, and they had agreed for three centenaria not merely to assist the Lazi in guarding the land from plunder, but also to render Iberia so destitute of men that not even the Persians would be able to come in from there in the future. And Goubazes had promised that the emperor would give them this money. So he reported the agreement to the Emperor Justinian and besought him to send this money for the barbarians and afford the Lazi some consolation in their great distress. He also stated that the treasury owed him his salary for ten years, for though he was assigned a post among the privy counsellors in the palace, he had received no payment from it since the time when Chosroes came into the land of Colchis. And the Emperor Justinian intended to fulfil this request, but some business came up to occupy his attention and he did not send the money at the proper time. So Goubazes was thus engaged. But Dagisthaeus, being a rather young man and by no means competent to carry on a war against Persia, did not handle the situation properly. For while he ought to have sent certainly the greater part of the army to the pass, and perhaps should have assisted in person in this enterprise, he sent only one hundred men, just as if he were managing a matter of secondary importance. He himself, moreover, though besieging Petra with the whole army, accomplished nothing, although the enemy were few. For while they had been at the beginning not less than fifteen hundred, they had been shot at by Romans and Lazi in their fighting at the wall for a long time, and had made a display of valour such as no others known to us have made, so that many were falling constantly and they were reduced to an exceedingly small number. So while the Persians, plunged in despair and at a loss what to do, were remaining quiet, the Romans made a trench along the wall for a short space, and the circuit-wall at this point fell immediately. But it happened that inside this space there was a building which did not stand back at all from the circuit-wall, and this reached to the whole length of the fallen portion; thus, taking the place of the wall for the besieged, it rendered them secure none the less. But this was not sufficient greatly to disturb the Romans. For knowing well that by doing the same thing elsewhere they would capture the city with the greatest ease, they became still more hopeful than before. For this reason Dagisthaeus sent word to the emperor of what had come to pass, and proposed that prizes of victory should be in readiness for him, indicating what rewards the emperor should bestow upon himself and his brother; for he would capture Petra after no great time. So the Romans and the Tzani made a most vigorous assault upon the wall, but the Persians unexpectedly withstood them, although only a very few were left. And since the Romans were accomplishing nothing by assaulting the wall, they again turned to digging. And they went so far in this work that the foundations of the circuit-wall were no longer on solid ground, but stood for the most part over empty space, and, in the nature of things, would fall almost immediately. And if Dagisthaeus had been willing immediately to apply fire to the foundations, I think that the city would have been captured by them straightway; but, as it was, he was awaiting encouragement from the emperor, and so, always hesitating and wasting time, he remained inactive. Such, then, was the course of events in the Roman camp. XXX But Mermeroes, after passing the Iberian frontier with the whole Median army, was moving forward with the River Phasis on his right. For he was quite unwilling to go through the country of Lazica, lest any obstacle should confront him there. For he was eager to save the city of Petra and the Persians in it, even though a portion of the circuit-wall had fallen down suddenly. For it had been hanging in the air, as I have said; and volunteers from the Roman army to the number of fifty got inside the city, and raised the shout proclaiming the Emperor Justinian triumphant. These men were led by a young man of Armenian birth, John by name, the son of Thomas whom they used to call by the surname Gouzes. This Thomas had built many of the strongholds about Lazica at the direction of the emperor, and he commanded the soldiers there, seeming to the emperor an intelligent person. Now John, when the Persians joined battle with his men, was wounded and straightway withdrew to the camp with his followers, since no one else of the Roman army came to support him. Meanwhile the Persian Mirranes who commanded the garrison in Petra, fearing for the city, directed all the Persians to keep guard with the greatest diligence, and he himself went to Dagisthaeus, and addressed him with fawning speeches and deceptive words, agreeing readily to surrender the city not long afterwards. In this way he succeeded in deceiving him so that the Roman army did not immediately enter the city. Now when the army of Mermeroes came to the pass, the Roman garrison, numbering one hundred men, confronted them there and offered a stalwart resistance, and they held in check their opponents who were attempting the entrance. But the Persians by no means withdrew, but those who fell were constantly replaced by others, and they kept advancing, trying with all their strength to force their way in. Among the Persians more than a thousand perished, but at last the Romans were worn out with killing, and, being forced back by the throng, they withdrew, and running up to the heights of the mountain there were saved. Dagisthaeus, upon learning this, straightway abandoned the siege without giving any commands to the army, and proceeded to the River Phasis; and all the Romans followed him, leaving their possessions behind in the camp. And when the Persians observed what was being done, they opened their gates and came forth, and approached the tents of the enemy in order to capture the camp. But the Tzani, who had not followed after Dagisthaeus, as it happened, rushed out to defend the camp, and they routed the enemy without difficulty and killed many. So the Persians fled inside their fortifications, and the Tzani, after plundering the Roman camp proceeded straight for Rhizaeum. And from there they came to Athens and betook themselves to their homes through the territory of the Trapezuntines. And Mermeroes and the Median army came there on the ninth day after the withdrawal of Dagisthaeus; and in the city they found left of the Persian garrison three hundred and fifty men wounded and unfit for fighting, and only one hundred and fifty men unhurt; for all the rest had perished. Now the survivors had in no case thrown the bodies of the fallen outside the fortifications, but though stifled by the evil stench, they held out in a manner beyond belief, in order that they might not afford the enemy any encouragement for the prosecution of the siege, by letting them know that most of their number had perished. And Mermeroes remarked by way of a taunt that the Roman state was worthy of tears and lamentation, because they had come to such a state of weakness that they had been unable by any device to capture one hundred and fifty Persians without a wall. And he was eager to build up the portions of the circuit-wall which had fallen down; but since at the moment he had neither lime nor any of the other necessary materials for the building ready at hand, he devised the following plan. Filling with sand the linen bags in which the Persians had carried their provisions into the land of Colchis, he laid them in the place of the stones, and the bags thus arranged took the place of the wall. And choosing out three thousand of his able fighting men, he left them there, depositing with them victuals for no great length of time, and commanding them to attend to the building of the fortifications; then he himself with all the rest of the army turned back and marched away. But since, if he went from there by the same road, no means of provisioning his army was available, since he had left everything in Petra which had been brought in by the army from Iberia, he planned to go by another route through the mountains, where he learned that the country was inhabited, in order that by foraging there he might be able to live off the land. In the course of this journey one of the notables among the Lazi, Phoubelis by name, laid an ambush for the Persians while camping for the night, bringing with him Dagisthaeus with two thousand of the Romans; and these men, making a sudden attack, killed some of the Persians who were grazing their horses, and after securing the horses as plunder they shortly withdrew. Thus, then, Mermeroes with the Median army departed from there. But Goubazes, upon learning what had befallen the Romans both at Petra and at the pass, did not even so become frightened, nor did he give up the guarding of the pass where he was, considering that their hope centred in that place. For he understood that, even if the Persians had been able by forcing back the Romans on the left of the River Phasis to cross over the pass and get into Petra, they could thereby inflict no injury upon the land of the Lazi, since they were utterly unable to cross the Phasis, in particular because no ships were at their disposal. For in depth this river is not inferior to the deepest rivers, and it spreads out to a great width. Moreover it has such a strong current that when it empties into the sea, it goes on as a separate stream for a very great distance, without mingling at all with the sea-water. Indeed, those who navigate in those parts are able to draw up drinking water in the midst of the sea. Moreover, the Lazi have erected fortresses all along the right bank of the river, in order that, even when the enemy are ferried across in boats, they may not be able to disembark on the land. The Emperor Justinian at this time sent to the nation of the Sabeiri the money which had been agreed upon, and he rewarded Goubazes and the Lazi with additional sums of money. And it happened that long before this time he had sent another considerable army also to Lazica, which had not yet arrived there. The commander of this army was Rhecithancus, from Thrace, a man of discretion and a capable warrior. Such then was the course of these events. Now when Mermeroes got into the mountains, as I have said, he was anxious to fill Petra with provisions from there. For he did not by any means think that the victuals which they had brought in with them would suffice for the garrison there, amounting to three thousand men. But since the supplies they found along the way barely sufficed for the provisioning of that army, which numbered no less than thirty thousand, and since on this account they were able to send nothing at all of consequence to Petra, upon consideration he found it better for them that the greater part of the army should depart from the land of Colchis, and that some few should remain there, who were to convey to the garrison in Petra the most of the provisions which they might find, while using the rest to maintain themselves comfortably. He therefore selected five thousand men and left them there, appointing as commanders over them Phabrizus and three others. For it seemed to him unnecessary to leave more men there, since there was no enemy at all. And he himself with the rest of the army came into Persarmenia and remained quietly in the country around Doubios. Now the five thousand, upon coming nearer to the frontier of Lazica, encamped in a body beside the Phasis River, and from there they went about in small bands and plundered the neighbouring country. Now when Goubazes perceived this, he sent word to Dagisthaeus to hasten there to his assistance: for it would be possible for them to do the enemy some great harm. And he did as directed, moving forward with the whole Roman army with the River Phasis on the left, until he came to the place where the Lazi where encamped on the opposite bank of the river. Now it happened that the Phasis could be forded at this point, a fact which neither the Romans nor the Persians suspected in the least because of their lack of familiarity with these regions; but the Lazi knew it well, and they made the crossing suddenly and joined the Roman army. And the Persians chose out a thousand men of repute among them and sent them forth, that no one might advance against the camp to harm it. And two of this force, who had gone out ahead of their fellows to reconnoitre, fell unexpectedly into the hands of the enemy and informed them of the whole situation. The Romans, therefore, and the Lazi fell suddenly upon the thousand men, and not one of them succeeded in escaping, but the most of them were slain, while some also were captured; and through these the men of Goubazes and Dagisthaeus succeeded in learning the numbers of the Median army and the length of the journey to them and the condition in which they then were. They therefore broke camp and marched against them with their whole army, calculating so that they would fall upon them well on in the night; their own force amounted to fourteen thousand men. Now the Persians, having no thought of an enemy in their minds, were enjoying a long sleep; for they supposed that the river was impassable, and that the thousand men, with no one to oppose them, were making a long march somewhere. But the Romans and Lazi at early dawn unexpectedly fell upon them, and they found some still buried in slumber and others just roused from sleep and lying defenceless upon their beds. Not one of them, therefore, thought of resistance, and the majority were caught and killed, while some also were captured by the enemy, among whom happened to be one of the commanders; only a few escaped in the darkness and were saved. And the Romans and Lazi captured the camp and all the standards, and they also secured many weapons and a great deal of money as plunder, besides great numbers of horses and mules. And pursuing them for a very great distance they came well into Iberia. There they happened upon certain others of the Persians also and slew a great number. Thus the Persians departed from Lazica; and the Romans and Lazi found there all the supplies, including great quantities of flour, which the barbarians had brought in from Iberia, in order to transport them to Petra, and they burned them all. And they left a large number of Lazi in the pass, so that it might no longer be possible for the Persians to carry in supplies to Petra, and they returned with all the plunder and the captives. [549 A.D.] And the fourth year of the truce between the Romans and Persians came to an end, being the twenty-third year of the reign of the Emperor Justinian. And John the Cappadocian one year before this came to Byzantium at the summons of the emperor. For at that time the Empress Theodora had reached the term of her life. However, he was quite unable to recover any of his former dignities, but he continued to hold the priestly honour against his will; and yet the vision had often come to the man that he would arrive at royalty. For the divine power is accustomed to tempt those whose minds are not solidly grounded by nature, by holding before their vision, on great and lofty hopes, that which is counted splendid among men. At any rate the marvel-mongers were always predicting to this John many such imaginary things, and especially that he was bound to be clothed in the garment of Augustus. Now there was a certain priest in Byzantium, Augustus by name, who guarded the treasures of the temple of Sophia. So when John had been shorn and declared worthy of the priestly dignity by force, inasmuch as he had no garment becoming a priest, he had been compelled by those who were in charge of this business to put on the cloak and the tunic of this Augustus who was near by, and in this, I suppose, his prophecy reached its fulfilment. FOOTNOTES: [1] That is, the Saracens subject to the Romans and those subject to the Persians. [2] Cf. Book I. xxii. 4. [3] The Huns placed a part of their force in the rear of the defenders of the pass, which lies between the sea and the mountains, sending them around by the same path, probably, as that used by Xerxes when he destroyed Leonidas and his three hundred Spartans; see _Herod_. vii. 216-218. [4] "Secretary of secrets." [5] Cf. Book I. xxii. 4. [6] Cf. Book II. i. 13; iii. 47. [7] Cf. Book I. xxii. 4. [8] Cf. Book II. xxi. 30-32. [9] This term was applied to the "Blue Faction" in Byzantium and elsewhere. [10] Cf. Book I. xxii. 4. [11] Nine MS. lines are missing at this point. [12] Cf. Book II. x. 24. [13] Cf. Book I. xii. 4 ff. [14] Cf. Book I. viii. 21-22. [15] Cf. chap. v. 31. [16] _I.e._ "groin." [17] Modern Galata. [18] The official dress. [19] Vesta. [20] Cf. section 9 above. [21] Cf. Book II. xii. 31-34. [22] Latin _agger_, "mound." [23] "Three Towers." [24] Cf. Book I. xii. 5 ff. [25] Book II. xix. 23. [26] Procopius seems to have confused two separate and distinct rivers. [27] Cf. Book II. xv. 11. [28] Latin _clausura_, "a narrow shut-in road." * * * * * INDEX Abandanes, secretary of Chosroes, sent to Belisarius, II. xxi. 1 ff.; his report, II. xxi. 13, 14 Abasgi, their location, II. xxix. 15; friends of the Romans, _ib._ Abochorabus, ruler of the Saracens of Arabia, presents the Palm Groves to Justinian, I. xix. 10 ff. Aborrhas River, protects one side of Circesium, II. v. 2; near Theodosiopolis, II. xix. 29 Abramus, becomes king of the Homeritae, I. xx. 3; his servile origin, I. xx. 4; defeats two Aethiopian armies, I. xx. 5-7; pays tribute to the Aethiopians, I. xx. 8; his idle promises to Justinian to invade Persia, I. xx. 13 Abydus, city opposite Sestus on the Hellespont, II. iv. 9 Acacius, father of Adolius, II. xxi. 2; denounces Amazaspes to the emperor, II. iii. 4; slays him treacherously, II. iii. 5; his shameless career as governor of Armenia, II. iii. 6, 7; slain by the Armenians, II. iii. 7 Adarbiganon, Chosroes halts there with his army, II. xxiv. 1; the fire-sanctuary located there, II. xxiv. 2; abandoned by Chosroes, II. xxiv. 12 Adergoudounbades, made "chanaranges" by Chosroes, I. vi. 15, 18; saves Cabades from the hand of Chosroes, I. xxiii. 7 ff.; betrayed by his son, I. xxiii. 13; his death, I. xxiii. 21 Adolius, son of Acacius, an Armenian, urges severe treatment of Armenians, II. iii. 10; commander of Roman cavalry, II. xxi. 2, 18, 20; commands a detachment in an army to invade Persia, II. xxiv. 13; killed by a stone, II. xxv. 35 Adonachus, commander in Chalcis, II. xii. 2 Adrastadaran Salanes, an office in Persia of high authority (_lit._ "Leader of the Warriors"), I. vi 18, xi. 25; held only by Seoses, I. xi. 38 Adulis, in Aethiopia, the city and harbour, distance from Auxomis, I. xix. 22; home of a certain Roman trader, I. xx. 4 Aegypt, its topography, I. xix. 3; John the Cappadocian an exile there, I. xxv. 43; the pestilence there, II. xxii. 6 Aeimachus, a butcher of Antioch, his encounter with a Persian horseman, II. xi. 8 ff. Aelas, on the "Red Sea," I. xix. 3, 19, 24 Aethiopians, location of their country, I. xix. 17; the ships used there, I. xix. 23; iron not produced there nor imported from elsewhere, I. xix. 24. 25; sought as allies by Justinian, I. xix. 1, xx. 9 ff., II. iii. 40; unable to buy silk from the Indians, I. xx. 12 Agamemnon, father of Iphigenia, I. xvii. II Agesta, _i.e._, "agger," employed by the Persians in besieging Edessa, II. xxvi. 29 Aigan, Massagete chief, in the Roman army at the battle of Daras, I. xiii. 20, xiv. 39, 44 Alamoundaras, son of Saccice, king of the Saracens, marches with the Persian army, I. xvii. 1; his character and services to the Persians, I. xvii. 40 ff.; advises Cabades to invade Roman territory south of the Euphrates River, I. xvii. 30 ff.; retires with Azarethes before Belisarius, I. xviii. 9 ff.; brings charge against Arethas of violating boundary lines, II. i. 3; war with Arethas, II. xxviii. 12-14; sacrifices to Aphrodite the son of Arethas, II. xxviii. 13; sought as an ally by Justinian, II. i. 13, iii. 47; accused by Justinian of violating the treaty, II. iv. 21; a menace to Syria and Phoenicia, II. xvi. 17; also to Lebanon, II. xix. 34 Alani, their location, II. xxix. 15; friends of the Romans, _ib._; neighbours of the Sunitae, I. xv. 1; persuaded by Goubazes to ally themselves with him, II. xxix. 29 Albani, a people near the Taurus, I. x. 1 Alexander, son of Philip, fortified the Caspian Gates, I. x. 9; Justinian compared with him, II. ii. 15 Alexander, ambassador to the Persians, I. xxii. 1 Alexandria, visited by the pestilence, II. xxii. 6; citizens of, accused by John the Cappadocian, I. xxv. 44 Amazaspes, nephew of Symeon, made ruler of certain Armenian villages, II. iii. 3; denounced to the emperor, II. iii. 4; treacherously slain, II. iii. 5 Ambazouces, a Hun, offers to sell to Anastasius the control of the Caspian Gates, I. x. 10; his death, I. x. 12 Ambrus, a Saracen Christian, saves Sergiopolis from capture by Chosroes, II. xx. 10, 14 Amida, a city on the border between Armenia and Mesopotamia, I. xvii. 24; distance from Martyropolis, I. xxi. 6; distance from the Nymphius River, I. viii. 22; from Siphrios, I. viii. 10; from Endielon, I. vii. 5; from Thilasamon, I. ix. 14; besieged by Cabades, I. vii. 3, 12 ff.; bravely defended, I. vii. 4, 12 ff.; captured by Cabades, I. vii. 29; besieged by the Romans, I. ix. 1-4; recovered by the Romans by purchase, I. ix. 20, 23; captives of, generously treated by Chosroes, I. vii. 34; citizens relieved of taxes, I. vii. 35 Ammodios, a place near Daras, I. xiii. 15, 38; II. xxviii. 35 Anastasius, Roman emperor, uncle of Hypatius, I. viii. 2, xi. 24; of Probus, I. xii. 6; and of Pompeius, I. xxiv. 19; refuses to purchase from Ambazouces the control of the Caspian Gates, I. x. 10, 11, xvi. 4; insurrection raised against him by Vitalianus, I. viii. 3, xiii. 10; refuses request of Cabades for a loan, I. vii. 1, 2; shews favour to citizens of Amida, I. vii. 35; sends succour to Amida, I. viii. 1; fortifies Daras, I. x. 13; placates Cabades, I. x. 17; fortifies Theodosiopolis, I. x. 18, 19; his death, I. xi. 1 Anastasius of Daras, overthrows tyranny there, I. xxvi. 8, II. iv. 15; bears a letter from Justinian to Chosroes, II. iv. 15; detained by Chosroes, II. iv. 26; dismissed by Chosroes, II. v. 27; present with Chosroes at the sack of Sura, II. ix. 10 Anatolius, General of the East, averts danger to the empire by courtesy to the Persian king, I. ii. 12-15 Andreas, of Byzantium, his exploits in single combat, I. xiii. 30 ff. Anglon, village in Persarmenia, II. xxv. 5; Roman armies routed there, II. xxv. 23 ff. Aniabedes, sent by Chosroes to capture Petra, II. xvii. 4; impaled by Chosroes, II. xvii. 11 Antinous, city of, in Aegypt, John the Cappadocian imprisoned there, I. xxv. 43 Antioch, its importance, I. xvii. 36, II. viii. 23, ix. 3, x. 5; situation, II. vi. 10, viii. 21; ease with which it might be captured, I. xvii. 38; character of the inhabitants, I. xvii. 37, II. viii. 6; distance from Beroea, II. vii. 21; from Seleucia, II. xi. 1; visited by an earthquake, II. xiv. 6; the citizens propose to buy off Chosroes, II. vi. 16; besieged by Chosroes, II. viii. 1 ff.; the wall stormed by Chosroes, II. viii. 8 ff.; captured by Chosroes, II. viii. 20 ff.; plundered by Chosroes, II. ix. 14 ff.; burnt, II. ix. 17, 18; young men of, check the victorious Persians in a street fight, II. viii. 28, 29, 32, ix. 5; citizens of, massacred by the Persians, II. viii. 34; church of, robbed of great treasures by Chosroes, II. ix. 15, 16; spared in the burning of the city, II. ix. 18, x. 6; citizens of, receive portent of coming misfortunes, II. x. 1 ff.; xiv. 5; two women of, their sad fate at the capture of the city, II. viii. 35; captives of, offered for sale by Chosroes, II. xiii. 2 ff.; settled by Chosroes in a newly built city under special laws, II. xiv. 1 ff. Antioch of Chosroes, special laws concerning it, II. xiv. 3, 4 Antonina, wife of Belisarius, brings about the downfall of John the Cappadocian, I. xxv. 13 ff.; departs to the East, I. xxv. 23 Apamea, city of Syria, II. xi. 2, 4; wood of the Cross preserved there, II. xi. 14; it gives forth a miraculous light in the church, II. xi. 17, 18; visited by Chosroes, II. xi. 14 ff.; entered by Chosroes and robbed of all its treasure, II. xi. 24 ff.; a citizen of, accuses a Persian of having violated his daughter, II. xi. 36 Aphrodite, son of Arethas sacrificed to, II. xxviii. 13 Apion, an Aegyptian, manager of finances in the Roman army, I. viii. 5 Arabia, its location, I. xix. 20 Arabian Gulf, called "Red Sea" by Procopius, I. xix. 2; its description, I. xix. 2 ff. Aratius, in company with Narses defeats Sittas and Belisarius, I. xii. 21, 22; deserts to the Romans, I. xii. 22, xv. 31; sent to Italy, I. xii. 22 Arcadius, Roman emperor, when about to die makes provision for the safety of his heir, I. ii. 1 ff. Archaeopolis, a strong city of Lazica, II. xxix. 18 Areobindus, son-in-law of Olyvrius, Roman general, I. viii. 1; flees with his army before Cabades, I. viii. 10, 11; summoned to Byzantium, I. ix. 1 Ares, House of, portion of the imperial residence in Byzantium, I. xxiv. 9 Arethas, son of Gabalas, made king of the Saracens of Arabia by Justinian and pitted against Alamoundaras, I. xvii. 47, 48; with the Roman army, I. xviii. 7; at the battle on the Euphrates, I. xviii. 26, 35; quarrels with Alamoundaras, II. i. 3-7; joins Belisarius in Mesopotamia, II. xvi. 5; sent by Belisarius to plunder Assyria, II. xix. 11, 15 ff.; returns another way, II. xix. 26 ff.; wages war against Alamoundaras, II. xxviii. 12-14; son of, sacrificed to Aphrodite, II. xxviii. 13 Argek, a guardsman, his effective fighting against the Persians at Edessa, II. xxvi. 26, 27 Armenia, considered by some to extend as far as Amida, I. xvii. 24; Armenians wage war with Persia, I. v. 10 ff.; History of the Armenians, I. v. 9, 40 Arsaces, king of Armenia, progenitor of the Arsacidae, II. iii. 32; his abdication, II. iii. 35 Arsaces, king of Armenia, wages a truceless war with Persia, I. v. 10 ff.; slandered to Pacurius, I. v. 16; victim of strategem of Magi, betrays himself to Pacurius, I. v. 19 ff.; confined in the Prison of Oblivion, I. v. 29 ff.; kills himself, I. v. 39 Arsaces, last king of Armenia, gives his kingdom to Theodosius, II. iii. 35 Arsaces, commander in Sura, killed while valiantly defending the city, II. v. 11 Arsacidae, descendants of the Armenian king, Arsaces, II. iii. 32; their privileges, II. iii. 35 Arsinus River, tributary to the Euphrates, I. xvii. 21 Artabanes, son of John, of the Arsacidae, slays Sittas, II. iii. 25 Artace, suburb of Cyzicus, I. xxv. 31 Artemis among the Taurians, sanctuary of, in Celesene, I. xvii. 11; a sanctuary of, founded by Orestes in Pontus, I. xvii. 15; another in Cappadocia, I. xvii. 18 Arzamon, in Mesopotamia, distance from Constantina, I. viii. 10 Arzanene, district of Armenia beyond the River Nymphius, I. viii. 21, II. xv. 7; invaded by Celer, I. viii. 21 Ascan, a Massagete chief, at the battle of Daras, I. xiii. 21, xiv. 44; his exploits at the battle on the Euphrates and his death, I. xviii. 38 Asia, entered from the Hellespont by the Huns, II. iv. 9 Aspebedes, uncle of Chosroes, I. xi. 5, xxiii. 6; negotiates a treaty with Celer, I. ix. 24; shares command of invading army, I. xxi. 4; put to death by Chosroes, I. xxiii. 6 Aspetiani, their alliance with Sittas frustrated by a misunderstanding, II. iii. 12-18 Assyria, plundered by Arethas, II. xix. 15 ff. Athens, a city near Lazica, II. xxix. 22, xxx. 14 Attachas, place in Armenia, distance from Martyropolis, I. xxi. 9 Augarus, toparch of Edessa, II. xii. 8; friend of Augustus, II. xii. 8, 9; his visit to Rome, II. xii. 9 ff.; with difficulty persuades Augustus to allow him to return, II. xii. 11 ff.; receives from Augustus the promise of a hippodrome for Edessa, II. xii. 18; his enigmatic reply to the enquiries of the citizens, II. xii. 19; stricken with gout, seeks relief from physicians, II. xii. 20, 21; invites Christ to come to Edessa, II. xii. 24; cured upon receiving the reply of Christ, II. xii. 28; son of, an unrighteous ruler, delivers over Edessa to Persia, II. xii. 28 Augustus, Roman emperor, his affection for Augarus, II. xii. 8-19 Augustus, priest in Byzantium, II. xxx. 53, 54 Auxomis, capital city of the Homeritae, I. xix. 17; distance from Adulis, I. xix. 22; from Elephantina and the Roman boundary, I. xix. 27 Auxomitae, name applied to some of the Aethiopians, I. xix. 17 Azarethes, Persian general, invades Roman territory, I. xvii. 1, xviii. 1; retires before Belisarius, I. xviii. 9 ff.; exhorts the Persian army, I. xviii. 27 ff.; arrays them for battle, I. xviii. 30; dishonoured by Cabades, I. xviii. 51 ff.; at the siege of Edessa, II. xxvii. 41 Baradotus, priest of Constantina, his godliness, II. xiii. 13; persuades Cabades to spare Constantina, II. xiii. 14, 15 Barbalissum, fortress on the Euphrates, distance from Obbane, II. xii. 4 Barbarian Plain, The, near Sergiopolis, II. v. 29 Baresmanas, Persian general, at the battle of Daras, I. xiii. 16, xiv. 32, 45; standard bearer of, attacked and killed by Sunicas, I. xiv. 47-50 Barlaus, Gate of, in the wall of Edessa, II. xxvii. 44 Basilides, appointed quaestor in place of Tribunianus, I. xxiv. 18 Basilius, father of John of Edessa, II. xxi. 27 Bassaces, son-in-law of John, accompanies him on a mission to Bouzes, II. iii. 29; escapes with his companions from an ambush, II. iii. 30; leads an embassy to the Persian king, II. iii. 31; comes with Armenians to Byzantium, II. xxi. 34 Bassicius, trusted friend of the Armenian king Arsaces, I. v. 17; flayed by Pacurius, I. v. 28 Batne, fortress one day's journey distant from Edessa, II. xii. 31 Belisarius, married to Antonina, I. xxv. 11; in company with Sittas invades Persarmenia, I. xii. 20, 21; defeated by Narses and Aratius, I. xii. 22; appointed commander of troops in Daras with Procopius his adviser, I. xii. 24; at the command of Justinian undertakes to build a fortress in Mindouos, I. xiii. 2, 3; prevented by the Persians, I. xiii. 4 ff.; made General of the East, I. xiii. 9; in company with Hermogenes prepares to meet the Persians at Daras, I. xiii. 12 ff.; at the battle of Daras, I. xiii. 19 ff.; sends letters to Mirranes, I. xiv. 1 ff., 7; address to his soldiers, I. xiv. 20 ff.; arrays the army on the second day of the battle of Daras, I. xiv. 28; wins a brilliant victory, I. xiv. 47 ff.; recalls the Romans from the pursuit of the Persians, I. xiv. 53; hurries to meet the invading army of Azarethes I. xviii. 4; follows the retiring Persian army, I. xviii. 9 ff.; ridiculed by his army, I. xviii. 12; attempts to dissuade the Romans from battle, I. xviii. 16 ff.; insulted by his army, I. xviii. 24; arrays them for battle, I. xviii. 25, 26; fights valiantly after most of the Roman army had been routed, I. xviii. 41 ff.; returns to Byzantium in order to go against the Vandals, I. xxi. 2; his share in quelling the Nika insurrection, I. xxiv. 40 ff.; made General of the East and sent to Libya, I. xxvi. 1; victorious in Italy, II. i. 1; brings Vittigis to Byzantium, II. iv. 13; shares the command of the East with Bouzes, II. vi. 1; summoned from Italy to Byzantium, II. xiv. 8; sent against Chosroes, II. xiv. 8, 13; gathers an army in Mesopotamia, II. xvi. 1 ff.; invades Persia, II. xviii. 1 ff.; defeats Nabedes at Nisibis, II. xviii. 24, 25; sends Arethas into Assyria, II. xix. 15; attacks Sisauranon, II. xix. 4 ff.; captures it, II. xix. 24; holds consultation with commanders, II. xix. 35 ff.; returns to Roman territory, II. xix. 45; recalled to Byzantium, II. xix. 49; journeys swiftly to the East to confront Chosroes, II. xx. 20; gathers an army at Europum, II. xx. 24 ff.; receives Abandanes, the envoy of Chosroes, I. xxi. 2 ff.; forces Chosroes to retire, II. xxi. 21; gives John of Edessa as a hostage, II. xxi. 27; his great fame, II. xxi. 28, 29; summoned to Byzantium, II. xxi. 34 Beroea, a town of Syria between Hierapolis and Antioch, II. vii. 2; distance from Chalcis, II. xii. 1; Chosroes demands money from the inhabitants, II. vii. 5; the citizens retire to the acropolis, II. vii. 7; the lower city entered by Chosroes and a large part of it fired, II. vii. 10, 11; acropolis valiantly defended against Chosroes, II. vii. 12; miserable plight of the besieged, II. vii. 13; citizens capitulate to Chosroes, II. vii. 35 Beros, an Erulian leader, encamps near Martinus, II. xxiv. 14; with Philemouth follows Peter into Persia, II. xxiv. 18 Bessas, a Goth, officer in the Roman army, I. viii. 3; commander in Martyropolis, I. xxi. 5 Bithynians, on the Euxine Sea, II. xxviii. 23 Black Gulf, II. iv. 8 Black Sea, _See_ "Euxine." Blases, brother of Perozes, chosen king in place of Cabades, deposed, I. v. 2; imprisoned and blinded by Cabades, I. vi. 17 Blemyes, a people of upper Aegypt, I. xix. 28; receive annual payment from the Roman emperor, I. xix. 32, 33; Diocletian purposes to hold them in check by means of the Nobatae, I. xix. 30; their religion, I. xix. 35, 36 Bleschames, commander of the Persian soldiers in Sisauranon, II. xix. 3; sent to Byzantium by Belisarius with Persian captives, II. xix. 24; sent to Italy by Justinian, II. xix. 25 Blue Faction, their struggles with the Green Faction, I. xxiv. 2-6; favoured by Justinian, II. xi. 32; in the Nika insurrection, I. xxiv. 7 ff.; also called the "Veneti" Blue Colonnade, in Byzantium, I. xxiv. 49 Boas River, considered by Procopius the upper portion of the Phasis, II. xxix. 14-16 Boes, a Persian general, I. xii. 10 Bolum, fortress in Persarmenia, near which were the gold mines of the Persian king, I. xv. 18; betrayed to the Romans by Isaac, I. xv. 32, 33; its return demanded by Chosroes, I. xxii. 3; given up by the Romans, I. xxii. 18 Boraedes, nephew of Justinian, assists in making Hypatius prisoner, I. xxiv. 53 Bosporus, a city on the Euxine, I. xii. 7; citizens of, put themselves under the sway of Justinus, I. xii. 8; Justinian accused of seizing it, II. iii. 40 Bouzes, brother of Coutzes, commander in Lebanon, I. xiii. 5; sent to support Belisarius at Mindouos, _ib._; commander in Martyropolis, I. xxi. 5; at the battle of Daras, I. xiii. 19, 25 ff.; sent against the Armenians, II. iii. 28; his offers of friendship distrusted by them, II. iii. 28, 29; slays John treacherously, II. iii. 31; shares the command of the East with Belisarius, II. vi. 1; makes suggestions as to the defence of Hierapolis, II. vi. 2 ff.; abandons the city, II. vi. 7, 8; prevents the citizens of Edessa from ransoming the captives of Antioch, II. xiii. 6; favours invasion of Persia by Belisarius, II. xvi. 16; takes refuge with Justus in Hierapolis, II. xx. 20; they invite Belisarius to join them, II. xx. 21 ff.; but later come to him at Europum, II. xx. 28 Braducius, interpreter of Isdigousnas, II. xxviii. 41 Bronze Gate, in the emperor's palace in Byzantium, I. xxiv. 47 Bulicas, harbour of the Homeritae, I. xix. 21 Byzantium, Nika insurrection, I. xxiv. 1 ff.; suburbs ravaged by Huns, II. iv. 4; visited by the pestilence, II. xxii. 9 ff.; Chosroes contemplates its capture by way of the Euxine, II. xxviii. 23 Cabades, youngest son of Perozes, I. iv. 2; chosen king of Persia, I. iv. 34; introduces innovations into the Persian government displeasing the people, I. v. 1; cast into the Prison of Oblivion, I. v. 7; escapes from it, I. vi. 7, 8, 10; enters Persia with an army of Ephthalitae, I. vi. 10-17; appoints Adergoudounbades "chanaranges" I. vi. 15, 18; deposes Blases, I. vi. 17; institutes a new office, I. vi. 18, 19; appeals to Anastasius for a loan, I. vii. 1; invades Roman territory, I. vii. 3; grants request of Jacobus, the hermit, I. vii. 9-11; besieges Amida, I. vii. 12-29; captures Amida, I. vii. 29; puts Glones in command of the city, I. vii. 33; his treatment of the captives of Amida, I. vii. 34; routs the Roman armies near Amida, I. viii. 8-19; shews kindness to Baradotus by sparing Constantina, II. xiii. 13; desirous of capturing Edessa and Constantina, II. xiii. 8; abandons his purpose of capturing Edessa, II. xiii. 9 ff.; retires in order to meet an invasion of the Huns, I. viii. 19; seizes the Caspian Gates, I. x. 12; protests at the fortification of Daras, I. x. 16; solicitude as to his successor, I. xi. 2 ff.; cured by Stephanus of Edessa, II. xxvi. 31; hates his oldest son Caoses, I. xi. 3, II. ix. 12; requests Justinus to adopt Chosroes, I. xi. 9, 20 ff.; unwilling to save Seoses, I. xi. 36, 37; tries to force the Iberians to adopt the Persian religion, I. xii. 2 ff.; sends an army against them, I. xii. 10; sends an army into Roman Armenia, I. xv. 1; his gold mine at Pharangium, I. xv. 27; deprived of the revenue therefrom, I. xv. 28, 29; treats with the ambassador Rufinus at Daras, I. xvi. 1 ff.; punishes Perozes, I. xvii. 26 ff.; plans a new campaign against the Romans, I. xvii. 29; advised by Alamoundaras, I. xvii. 30 ff.; adopts the suggestion of Alamoundaras, I. xviii. 1; dishonours Azarethes, I. xviii. 51 ff.; refuses to negotiate with Hermogenes, I. xxi. 1; bought pearl from the Ephthalitae, I. iv. 16; his last illness, I. xxi. 17 ff.; his ability as a ruler, I. vi. 19 Cabades, son of Zames, plot to set him on the Persian throne in place of Chosroes, I. xxiii. 4; ordered to be killed by Chosroes, I. xxiii. 7; escapes by the help of the chanaranges, I. xxiii. 9 ff.; one claiming this name entertained by Justinian in Byzantium, I. xxiii. 23, 24 Cadiseni, in the Persian army at the battle of Daras, I. xiv. 38, 39 Caesar, the title used by the Persians to designate the Roman emperor, II. xxi. 9, xi. 35 Caesarea, the home of Procopius, I. i. 1 Caisus, a Homerite, of captain's rank, a fugitive because of murder committed by him, I. xx. 9, 10 Callinicus, city of Mesopotamia, II. xi. 28; on the Euphrates, I. xviii. 13; Roman army conveyed thither by boats after the battle on the Euphrates, I. xviii. 50; taken by Chosroes, II. xxi. 30 ff. Candidus, priest of Sergiopolis, makes agreement with Chosroes, II. v. 31; punished by Chosroes for failing to keep his agreement, II. xx. 2 ff., 15, 16 Caoses, oldest son of Cabades, I. xi. 3; hated by his father, II. ix. 12; claims the throne of Persia upon the death of Cabades, I. xxi. 20; prevented by Mebodes from becoming king, I. xxi. 22 Cappadocia, country of Asia embracing a portion of the Taurus, I. x. 1; desired by Chosroes, II. xxviii. 23; visited by Orestes, I. xvii. 16 Carrhae, city of Mesopotamia, citizens of, offer money to Chosroes, II. xiii. 7; able to see the smoke of the burning "agger" at Edessa, II. xxvii. 15 Caspian Gates, their location and strategic importance, I. x. 1 ff.; fortified by Alexander, I. x. 9; offered to Anastasius by Ambazouces, I. x. 10; seized by Cabades, I. x. 12, xvi. 4, 7, xxii. 5; guarded by the Persians, II. x. 21 Cassandria, known in ancient times as Potidaea, captured by the Huns, II. iv. 5 Catholicos, title of the priest of Doubios, II. xxv. 4 Caucasus Mountains, I. xv. 26; inhabited by Huns, II. xv. 3, 29, xxviii. 22; by Alani, etc., II. xxix. 15; barbarians in, held in check by Lazica, II. xxviii. 22 Celer, Roman general, I. viii. 2; invades Arzanene, I. viii. 21, II. xv. 7; with Patricius and Hypatius besieges Amida, I. ix. 1; negotiates a treaty with Aspebedes, I. ix. 24 Celesene, district in Armenia, I. xvii. 11, 21; sanctuary of Artemis there, I. xvii. 11 Cerataeum, a district of Antioch, II. x. 7 Chalcis, city in Syria, distance from Gabboulon, I. xviii. 8; from Beroea, II. xii. 1; saved from Chosroes by money payment, II. xii. 1, 2 Chanaranges (_lit._ "Commander of the Frontier Troops"), Persian term for "general," I. v. 4, vi. 12, xxiii. 7 Chanaranges, Persian general, shares command of invading army, I. xxi. 4; besieges Martyropolis, I. xxi. 14, 15; retires, I. xxi. 27 Cherson, a city at the limits of Roman territory on the Euxine, I. xii. 7 Chersonesus, its wall assailed by the Huns, II. iv. 8 Chorzianene, place in Armenia, Eruli encamp there, II. xxiv. 14 Chosroes, third son of Cabades, I. xi. 5; Cabades proposes to Justinus that he adopt Chosroes, I. xi. 6 ff.; Ch. awaits outcome of negotiations regarding his adoption by Justinus, I. xi. 27; retires in anger to Persia, I. xi. 30; declared by Cabades in his testament successor to the throne of Persia, I. xxi. 17 ff.; his election to the kingship, I. xxi. 22; meets Roman ambassadors on the Tigris, I. xxii. 1 ff.; failure of their negotiations, I. xxii. 12 ff.; grants the prayer of Rufinus, I. xxii. 15; concludes the "endless peace." I. xxii. 16, 17; his unpopularity among the Persians, I. xxiii. 1-3; plot to dethrone him, I. xxiii. 3 ff.; slays Zames and other male relatives, I. xxiii. 6; orders the chanaranges to slay Cabades, son of Zames, I. xxiii. 7; hears from Varrames how Cabades had been spared, I. xxiii. 13; his punishment of Adergoudounbades, I. xxiii. 14 ff.; destroys Mebodes, I. xxiii. 25 ff.; vexed at Roman successes in Libya, I. xxvi. 2; demands his share of the spoils, I. xxvi. 3; desires to break the treaty with the Romans, II. i. 1; charges Justinian with having broken the treaty, II. i. 12-14, x. 13, 16; hears with favour the ambassadors of Vittigis, II. ii. 12; receives an embassy from the Armenians, II. iii. 32 ff.; decides to open hostilities against the Romans, II. iii. 55; admonished by Justinian by letter, II. iv. 17 ff.; detains Anastasius, II. iv. 26; dismisses him, II. v. 27; first invasion of Roman territory, II. v. 1; marches towards Syria, II. v. 4; refrains from attacking Zenobia, II. v. 7; arriving at Sura, besieges the city, II. v. 8 ff.; captures it by a strategem, II. v. 22 ff.; marries Euphemia, II. v. 28; releases captives for ransom, II. v. 29; hears the plea of Megas, II. vi. 18 ff.; exacts money from the Hierapolitans, II. vi. 22-24; promises to depart from the East for ten centenaria of gold, II. vi. 25; demands money from the Beroeans, II. vii. 5; enters Beroea and fires a large portion of it, II. vii. 10, 11; besieges the acropolis, II. vii. 11 ff.; reproached by Megas, II. vii. 19; his reply, II. vii. 20 ff.; allows the Beroeans to capitulate, II. vii. 35; moves against Antioch, II. viii. 1; demands money from the citizens of Antioch, II. viii. 4; hears the ambassadors, II. viii. 5; insulted by the citizens, II. viii. 6; storms the city wall, II. viii. 8 ff.; captures Antioch, II. viii. 20; reproached by Zaberganes, II. viii. 30 ff.; addresses the ambassadors, II ix. 1 ff.; his hesitation in allowing the Persians to enter Antioch, II. viii. 22-24, ix. 7; his character II. ix. 8-12; orders the plunder of Antioch, II. ix. 14; burns the city, II. ix. 17, 18; addressed by the ambassadors, II. x. 10 ff.; demands money from them, II. x. 19 ff.; agrees upon terms for peace, II. x. 24; visits Seleucia, II. xi. 1; visits Daphne, II. xi. 5 ff.; burns the sanctuary of Michael at Daphne, II. xi. 12, 13; proceeds to Apamea, II xi. 14; enters the city and seizes its treasures, II. xi. 24 ff.; becomes a spectator in the hippodrome, II. xi. 31 ff.; impales a Persian adulterer, II. xi. 37, 38; exacts money from the citizens of Chalcis, II. xii. 1, 2; crosses the Euphrates by a bridge, II. xii. 3 ff.; eager to capture Edessa because of the belief of the Christians that it could not be captured, II. xii. 6 ff., 29, 31; demands and receives money from the citizens, II. xii. 33, 34; upon receipt of a letter from Justinian prepares for departure, II. xiii. 1, 2; protests at the offer of money by the citizens of Carrhae, II. xiii. 7; accepts money from the citizens of Constantina, II. xiii. 8; claims Constantina as his possession by inheritance, _ib._, II. xiii. 15; besieges Daras, II. xi. 28, xiii. 16; abandons the siege of Daras upon receipt of money, II. xiii. 28; charged by Justinian with breaking the treaty, II. xiii. 29; provides a home for the captives of Antioch, II. xiv. 1 ff.; called in by the Lazi, II. xv. 1, 12 ff.; prepares to invade Lazica, II. xv. 31-35; Belisarius sent against him, II. xiv. 8; invades Lazica, II. xvii. 1 ff.; commands an attack to be made on Petra, II. xvii. 4; impales Aniabedes, II. xvii. 11; besieges Petra, II. xvii. 13 ff.; captures Petra, II. xvii. 27; retires from Lazica, II. xix. 48; third invasion of Roman territory, II. xx. 1 ff.; besieges Sergiopolis in vain, II. xx. 11 ff.; punishes Candidus, the priest of Sergiopolis, II. xx. 2 ff., 15, 16; takes much treasure from Sergiopolis, II. xx. 7; sends envoy to Belisarius, II. xxi. 1, 23; retires before Belisarius, II. xxi. 15 ff.; crosses the Euphrates by a bridge, II. xxi. 21; takes Callinicus, II. xi. 28, xxi. 30-32; receives the hostage John, II. xxi. 27; awaits the Roman envoys at Adarbiganon, II. xxiv. 1 ff.; his army visited by the pestilence, II. xxiv. 8, 12; retires from Adarbiganon into Assyria, II. xxiv. 12; fourth invasion of Roman territory, II. xxvi. 1 ff.; makes an attempt upon Edessa, II. xxvi. 5 ff.; comes to terms with the citizens of Edessa, II. xxvii. 46; arranges a five-year truce with Constantianus and Sergius, II. xxviii. 7 ff.; lays plans to capture Daras and secure his possession of Lazica, II. xxviii. 15 ff.; attemps to capture Daras by a ruse, II. xxviii. 31 ff.; plans to build a fleet in the Euxine, II. xxix. 1; sends Phabrizus into Lazica to destroy Goubazes, II. xxix. 2 ff.; sends an army to relieve Petra, II. xxix. 13 Christ, suffered in Jerusalem, II. xi. 14. _See_ "Jesus." Christians, converted two temples into churches, I. xvii. 18; boast that Edessa cannot be captured, II. xii. 7; reverence especially the feast of Easter, I. xviii. 15; the Lazi and Iberians devout Christians, I. xii. 3, II. xxviii. 26; among the Homeritae, abused by Jews, I. xx. 1 Cilicia, the refuge of Ephraemius, II. vii. 17; and Germanus, II. vii. 18 Cilicians, the objective of Chosroes' invasion, II. v. 4, vi. 21 Cilician screens, used at the siege of Edessa, II. xxvi. 29 Circesiurn, Roman stronghold on the Euphrates, II. v. 2; its excellent defences, II. v. 3 Citharizon, fortress in Armenia, four days from Theodosiopolis, II. xxiv. 13 Colchis, the old name for Lazica (_q.v._) I. xi. 28, etc. Comana, called "Golden Comana," a city of Cappadocia founded by Orestes, I. xvii. 19 Comana, city in Pontus, founded by Orestes, not the one "Among the Taurians," I. xvii. 12 Comet, The, its appearance in the heavens, II. iv. 1, 2; various explanations of the meaning of the phenomenon, II. iv. 3 Commagene, old name for Euphratesia, I. xvii. 2, 23, II. xx. 17; invaded by the Persians, I. xviii. 2 Constantianus, an Illyrian, II. xxiv. 4; envoy to Chosroes with Sergius, II. xxiv. 3; appointed general, II. xxviii. 2; sent as envoy to Chosroes with Sergius a second time, II. xxviii. 3 ff. Constantina, city in Mesopotamia, I. xxii. 3; distance from Arzamon, I. viii. 10; Cabades desirous of capturing the city, II. xiii. 8; spared by Cabades owing to the entreaties of Baradotus, II. xiii. 13 ff.; claimed by Chosroes as an inherited possession, II. xiii. 8, 15; citizens of, their offer of money accepted by Chosroes, II. xiii. 8 Constantine, Forum of, in Byzantium, I. xxiv. 9, 24 Coutzes, Roman general, brother of Bouzes, sent to support Belisarius at Mindouos, I. xiii. 5; captured by the Persians, I. xiii. 8 Ctesiphon, town on the Tigris, II. xxviii. 4-5; distance from the Antioch of Chosroes, II. xiv. 1 Cyril, Roman commander at the battle of Daras, I. xiii. 21 Cyrus, king of the Persians, II. ii. 15 Cyzicus, John the Cappadocian exiled thither, I. xxv. 31 Dagaris, a Roman spy, captured by Huns, I. xv. 6; returned to the Romans, I. xxii. 18; his later services to the Romans, I. xxii. 19 Dagisthaeus, commands an army to succour the Lazi, II. xxix. 10; with Goubazes besieges Petra, II. xxix. 11 ff.; sends an insufficient force to guard the pass into Lazica, II. xxix. 33-34; his incompetent conduct of the siege of Petra, II. xxix. 34 ff.; deceived by Mirranes, II. xxx. 7; abandons Petra, II. xxx. 11; with Phoubelis attacks Mermeroes, II. xxx. 22; with Goubazes attacks and almost annihilates the Persians, II. xxx. 39 ff. Daphne, suburb of Antioch, II viii. 25; visited by Chosroes, II. xi. 5 ff.; the portent of the uprooted cypresses, II. xiv. 5 Daras, a city in Mesopotamia, fortified by Anastasius, I. x. 13; distance from Nisibis and the Persian boundary, I. x. 14; from Ammodius, I. xiii. 15; its formidable defences, II. xiii. 17; a menace to the Persians, I. xvi. 6; battle of, I. xiii. 12 ff.; the Persians demand that its walls be demolished, I. xvi. 7; its abandonment by the Roman army a condition of the "endless peace," I. xxii. 16; the tyranny of John, I. xxvi. 5-12; besieged by Chosroes, II. xi. 28, xiii. 16 ff.; citizens of, make a settlement with Chosroes, II. xiii. 28; Chosroes plans to capture it by a ruse, II. xxviii. 17; failure of the attempt, II. xxviii. 31 ff. Death, Gate of, in Byzantium, I. xxiv. 52 Diocletian, Roman emperor, readjusts the Roman boundary in Aegypt, I. xix. 29 ff.; builds the fortress of Philae, I. xix. 34, 35 Diogenes, a guardsman, commander of cavalry, II. xxi. 2, 18, 20 Domentiolus commands a detachment of an army to invade Persia, II. xxiv. 15 Dorotheus, a Roman commander at the battle of Daras, I. xiii. 21 Dorotheus, general of Armenia, attacks invading Persian army, I. xv. 3 ff.; makes a sally from Satala upon the Persian army, I. xv. 11 ff. Doubios, district in Persarmenia, II. xxv. 1, 2; its trade with India, II. xxv. 3; distance from Theodosiopolis, II. xxv. 1; Mermeroes stops there with his army II. xxx. 33; priest of, called Catholicos, II. xxv. 4; sent to urge the Romans to make peace, II. xxiv. 6, 7 Easter, its especial observance by the Christians, I. xviii. 15 Edessa, the centre of so-called Osroene, I. xvii. 24; in Mesopotamia, II. xxiv. 4; Augustus promises to build a hippodrome in the city, II. xii. 18; the story of its toparch Augarus, II. xii. 8 ff.; citizens of, convinced that the city could not be captured by barbarians, II. xii. 7, 26, 30; the letter of Christ to Augarus inscribed on the city wall, II. xii. 26; given over to the Persians by the son of Augarus, II. xii. 28; citizens of, destroy the Persian guards and give back the city to the Romans, II. xii. 29; citizens pay Chosroes two centenaria, II. xii. 34; their zeal to ransom the captives of Antioch frustrated by Bouzes, II. xiii. 3 ff.; Cabades desirous of capturing the city, II. xii. 6, 7, 31, xiii. 8; abandons his purpose upon reaching it, II. xiii. 9 ff.; attacked by Chosroes, II. xxvi. 5 ff.; the home of Sergius, II. xxiv. 4 Eirenaeus, Roman general, sent to Lazica, I. xii. 14 Elephantina, city in Aegypt, on the Roman boundary, I. xix. 27; near Philae, I. xix. 34, 35 Endielon, place near Amida, I. vii. 5 Ephraemius, chief priest of Antioch, accused of treason by Julian, II. vii. 16; retires to Cilicia, II. vii. 17 Ephthalitae Huns, called White Huns, their manners and customs, I. iii. 1, 2; wage war with Perozes, I. iii. 1 ff.; entrap the Persian army, I. iii. 8 ff.; in a second war with Perozes completely destroy his army, I. iv. 1 ff.; force the Persians to pay tribute, I. iv. 35; receive Cabades after his escape from the Prison of Oblivion, I. vi. 10; Cabades owes their king money, I. vii. 1, 2; punished for impiety towards Jacobus, the hermit, I. vii. 8; eight hundred Eph. killed by the Persians, I. viii. 13 Eruli, accustomed to fight without protective armour except a shield, II. xxv. 27, 28; in the Roman army, II. xxi. 4; in the Roman army at the battle of Daras, I. xiii. 19, xiv. 33, 39; under Mundus, I. xxiv. 41; in the army of Valerianus, II. xxiv. 12; with the army of Martinus, II. xxiv. 14; follow Peter into Persia, II. xxiv. 18; in the battle of Anglon, II. xxv. 20 ff. Esimiphaeus, established as king of the Homeritae, I. xx. 1; deposed by insurgents, I. xx. 3; makes idle promise to Justinian, I. xx. 9 ff. Euphemia, daughter of John the Cappadocian I. xxv. 13 Euphemia, captive of Sura, married by Chosroes, II. v. 28 Euphratesia, ancient name of Commagene I. xvii. 2, 23, II. xx. 17, 20; chosen by Azarethes as the starting point for an invasion of Roman territory, I. xvii. 2 Euphrates River, its source in Armenia, I. xvii. 4; disappears in a strange marsh, I. xvii. 6 ff.; its course from Celesene as far as the junction with the Tigris, I. xvii. 21, 22; receives the waters of the Aborrhas, II. v. 2; protects one side of Circesium, _ib._; important battle on its banks, I. xviii. 30 ff. Europe, invaded by the Huns, II. iv. 4 ff. Europum, on the Euphrates, headquarters of Belisarius while recruiting his army, II. xx. 24, 27, 28 Eusebius, Roman ambassador to the Persian king Perozes, I. iii. 8; warns Perozes of the stratagem of the Ephthalitae I. iii. 13 Eusebius, bishop of Cyzicus, murdered by the citizens, I. xxv. 37, 38 Euxine Sea, receives the waters of the Phasis, II. xxix. 18; Chosroes desires an outlet to it, II. xxviii. 23 Evaris, builder of a temple of Michael at Tretum, near Antioch, II. xi. 7 Florentinus, a Thracian, distinguishes himself at the battle of Satala, I. xv. 15, 16 Gabalas, a Saracen, father of Arethas, I. xvii. 47 Galatians, on the Euxine, II. xxviii. 23 Gabboulon, distance from Chalcis, I. xviii. 8 Gaza, limit of Arabia in olden times, I. xix. 20 Gelimer, brought captive to Byzantium by Belisarius, II. xxi. 28 George, confidant of Belisarius, persuades the inhabitants of Sisauranon to capitulate, II. xix. 22, 23; saves the city of Daras, II. xxviii. 33 f. Germanus, nephew of Justinian, II. vi. 9; commander at the battle of Daras, I. xiii. 21; sent to meet the invasion of Chosroes, II. vi. 9; establishes himself In Antioch and inspects the fortifications, II. vi. 10; retires into Cilicia, II. vii. 18 Glones, a Persian, in command of the garrison in Amida, I. vii. 33; destroyed by a stratagem, I. ix. 5-17; son of, I. ix. 4, 18 Godidisklus, a Goth, an officer in the Roman army, I. viii. 3 Gorgo, city of the Ephthalitae, against the Persian frontier, I. iii. 2, iv. 10 Goths, march with Belisarius against Chosroes, II. xiv. 10, xviii. 24, xxi. 4 Goubazes, king of Lazica, privy councillor of Justinian _in absentia_, II. xxix. 31; gives himself and his people over to Chosroes, II. xvii. 2 ff.; plotted against by Phabrizus, II. xxix. 2 ff.; begs Justinian to succour the Lazi, II. xxix. 9; with Dagisthaeus besieges Petra, II. xxix. 11 ff.; defends one pass against the Persians, II. xxix. 28 ff.; asks Justinian to send money to the Alani and the Sabeiri, II. xxix. 30; Chosroes plans to put him out of the way, II. xxviii. 30, xxix. 2 ff.; rewarded with money by Justinian, II. xxx. 28; with Dagisthaeus attacks and almost annihilates the Persians, II. xxx. 39 ff. Gourgenes, king of Iberia, revolts from the Persians, I. xii. 4 ff., II. xv. 6, xxviii. 20; retires before the Persian army into Lazica, I. xii. 11, 12 Gousanastades, "chanaranges," counsels the execution of Cabades, I. v. 4; put to death by Cabades, I. vi. 18 Greece, plundered by the Huns, II. iv. 11 Greeks, The, I. xix. 35 Green Faction, their struggles with the Blue Faction, I. xxiv. 2-6; in the Nika insurrection, I. xxiv. 7 ff.; favoured by Chosroes at Apamea, II. xi. 32 Hebrews, of Iotabe, formerly autonomous, become subject to the Romans, I. xix. 4 Helen, palace named from, in Byzantium, I. xxiv. 30 Hellenic faith, The, I. xx. 1, xxv. 10 Hellestheaeus, king of the Aethiopians, his expeditions against the Homeritae, I. xx. 1 ff.; his vain promises to Justinian, I. xx. 9 ff. Hermogenes, Roman general, sent to assist Belisarius, I. xiii. 10; in company with Belisarius prepares to meet the Persians at Daras, I. xiii. 12 ff.; at the battle of Daras, I. xiii. 19 ff.; forbids Andreas to engage in single combat, I. xiii. 35; interchange of letters with Perozes, I. xiv. 1 ff.; address to the troops, I. xiv. 20 ff.; arrays the army on the second day of the battle of Daras, I. xiv. 28; at the battle of Daras, I. xiv. 44; recalls Romans from pursuit of the Persians, I. xiv. 53; returns to Byzantium, I. xvi. 10; sent as ambassador by the emperor, I. xviii. 16; negotiates unsuccessfully with Chosroes, I. xxi. 1; accompanies the army of Sittas as ambassador, I. xxi. 10, 23; ambassador to Chosroes with Rufinus, I. xxii. 16 Hestia, _i.e._ Vesta, identified with the Persian fire-divinity, II. xxiv. 2 Hierapolis, city on the Euphrates, I. xiii. 11, xvii. 22; distance from Beroea and Antioch, II. vii. 2; Bouzes and the Roman army stationed there, II. vi. 2; suggested plan for its defence, II. vi. 3 ff.; deserted by Bouzes, II. vi. 7, 8; saved from Chosroes by payment of money, II. vi. 22-24; Justus and Bouzes take refuge there, II. xx. 20 Homeric bowmen, compared with bowmen of Procopius' time, I. i. 9-11 Homeritae, people of Arabia, sought as allies by Justinian, I. xix. 1, xx. 9 ff.; location of their country, I. xix. 15; domestic conflicts and intervention of Hellestheaeus, I. xx. 1 ff. Honorius, Emperor of the West, uncle of Theodosius II. unable to assist him, I. ii. 4 Huns, a nomadic people, of ugly countenance, I. iii. 4; their homes, I. x. 6, xii. 7, II. xv. 3, xxviii. 22; their war with Cabades, I. viii. 19, ix. 24, x. 15, II. xvi. 3; Justinian attempts to win their support, II. i. 14, iii. 47, x. 16; capture a Roman spy I. xv. 6; attack of, feared by the Persians at Martyropolis, I. xxi. 27; invade Roman territory, I. xxi. 28; often defeated by Dagaris, I. xxii. 19; receiving annual payments from the Romans, II. x. 23; held back by the Lazi, II. xv. 3; in the army of Chosroes, II. xxvi. 5; assist the Romans in the defence of Edessa, II. xxvi. 25, 26; invade Europe, II. iv. 4 ff.; cross the Hellespont into Asia, II. iv. 9; plunder Illyricum and Thessaly and Greece as far as the Isthmus, II. iv. 10-12 Hypatius, nephew of Anastasius, I. viii. 2; army routed by Cabades, I. viii. 10-18; his escape, I. viii. 19; sent as envoy to the Persians, I. xi. 24; slandered by Rufinus, I. xi. 38; his punishment, I. xi. 39; sent from the palace by Justinian, I. xxiv. 19-21; declared emperor by the populace, and conducted to the hippodrome, I. xxiv. 22 f.; his wife Mary, I. xxiv. 23; takes the emperor's seat in the hippodrome, I. xxiv. 42; brought before Justinian as a prisoner, I. xxiv. 53; meets his death bravely, I. xxiv. 55, 56 Iberia, Iberians, a Christian people, side with the Romans, I. xii. 2 ff., II. xv. 6; come to Byzantium, I. xii. 14; given choice of remaining in Byzantium or returning to their homes, I. xxii. 16; dissatisfied with Persian rule, II. xxviii. 20, 21 Ildiger, in the army of Martinus, II. xxiv. 13 Illyricum, invaded by the Huns, II. iv. 5, 10 Immortals, a detachment of the Persian army, I. xiv. 31; at the battle of Daras, I. xiv. 44 ff. India, washed by the "Red Sea," I. xix. 3; boats in, tale to account for their construction without iron, I. xix. 23, 24; iron not produced there nor imported from elsewhere, I. xix. 24-26; silk export, I. xx. 9, 12; its trade with Doubios, II. xxv. 3 Ionian Gulf, II. iv. 4 Iotabe, an Island In the "Red Sea," I. xix. 3 Iphigenia, the story of her flight from the sanctuary of Artemis, I. xvii. 11 ff.; temple dedicated to her by Orestes, I. xvii. 18 Iris River, in Pontus, I. xvii. 14 Isaac, brother of Narses, betrays Bolum to the Romans and comes as a deserter to Byzantium, I. xv. 32, 33; commander in Armenia, II. xxiv. 14; carries his brother Narses out of the battle of Anglon, II. xxv. 24 Isaurians, in the Roman army, I. xviii. 5; commanded by Longinus and Stephanacius, I. xviii. 7; at the battle on the Euphrates, I. xviii. 38; their inexperience in war, I. xviii. 39 Isdigerdes, Persian king, guardian of Theodosius I. ii. 7 ff. Isdigousnas, high Persian official, II. xxviii. 16; employed by Chosroes for the furtherance of his plans, II. xxviii. 17; attempts to capture Daras for Chosroes by a ruse, II. xxviii. 31 ff.; continues to Byzantium as an envoy, II. xxviii. 38 ff. Isis, worshipped by the Blemyes and Nobatae, I. xix. 35 Italy, subdued by Belisarius, II. i. 1 Jacobus, a holy man among the Syrians, I. vii. 5 ff. Jason, the tale of his adventure with Medea in Colchis, II. xvii. 2 Jerusalem, the scene of Christ's suffering, II. xi. 14; its treasures desired by Chosroes, II. xx. 18 Jesus, his life and work in Palestine, II. xii. 22, 23; invited by Augarus to come to Edessa, II. xii. 24; his reply, in which he promises health to Augarus, II. xii. 25. _See also_ "Christ." Jews, oppress the Christians among the Homeritae, I. xx. 1. _See also_ "Hebrews." John, father of Artabanes, of the Arsacidae, II. iii. 25; treacherously slain by Bouzes, II. iii. 29-31 John, son of Basilius, a notable of Edessa, given as a hostage to Chosroes, I. xxi. 27, 33 John, an Armenian, son of Thomas Gouzes, in the Roman army, II. xxx. 4 John the Cappadocian, praetorian prefect, I. xxiv. 11; his character and ability, I. xxiv. 12-15, xxv. 8-10; highly esteemed by Justinian, I. xxv. 5, 25, 33; dismissed from office, I. xxiv. 17; restored to office, I. xxv. 1; hated by Theodora, I. xxv. 4-7; hostility to Belisarius, I. xxv. 12; entrapped by Antonina, I. xxv. 13 ff.; forced to become a priest and exiled to Cyzicus, I. xxv. 31; looks forward confidently to becoming emperor, I. xxv. 8, 19, 44, II. xxx. 50; his easy lot in Cyzicus, I. xxv. 34, 35; accused of the murder of Eusebius, I. xxv. 39; his treatment at the trial, I. xxv. 40; his punishment, I. xxv. 42, 43; imprisoned in the city of Antinous in Aegypt, I. xxv. 43; returns to Byzantium, II. xxx. 49, 50; the grotesque fulfilment of his dreams, II. xxx. 54; his daughter Euphemia, I. xxv. 13 John, son of Lucas, Roman officer, captured by Alamoundaras, I. xvii. 43, 44 John, commander of troops in Mesopotamia, arrests the interpreter of Vittigis' envoys, II. xiv. 12; attacked by the Persians before Nisibis, II. xviii. 16 John, son of Nicetas, Roman commander at the battle of Daras, I. xiii. 21; urges Belisarius to retire from Mesopotamia, II. xix. 36 ff.; commands a detachment of an army to invade Persia, II. xxiv. 15 John, son of Rufinus, sent as ambassador to Chosroes, II. vii. 15, ix. 1, x. 10, 18 ff. John Tzibus, governor of Lazica, his origin and character, II. xv. 9; persuades Justinian to build Petra, II. xv. 10; monopolises the retail trade, II. xv. 11, xxix. 21; valiantly defends Petra, II. xvii. 5 ff.; killed by a missile, II. xvii. 16 John, serving in the Roman infantry, his tyranny at Daras, I. xxvi. 5-12; his death, I. xxvi. 12 John the Glutton, a guardsman, sent with Arethas into Assyria, II. xix. 15 ff.; commands a detachment in an army to invade Persia, II. xxiv. 15 Julian, sanctuary of, in Antioch, II. x. 8 Julian, brother of Summas, envoy to the Aethiopians and Homeritae, I. xx. 9, II. i. 10; private secretary of Justinian, sent as ambassador to Chosroes, II. vii. 15; forbids giving money to Chosroes and denounces Ephraemius, II. vii. 16 Justinian, nephew of Justinus, I. xi. 10; his great love for his wife Theodora, I. xxv. 4; favours adoption of Chosroes by his uncle Justinus, I. xi. 10; as general, I. xi. 16, xii. 21; becomes emperor upon the death of Justinus, I. xiii. 1; orders the building of a fort in Mindouos, I. xiii. 2; appoints Belisarius General of the East, I. xiii. 9; makes Arethas commander of many tribes, I. xvii. 47; pits Arethas against Alamoundaras, I. xvii. 47, 48; orders demolition of Philae, I. xix. 36; endeavours to secure the alliance of the Aethiopians and Homeritae, I. xix. 1, xx. 9 ff.; receives the Palm Groves as a present from Abochorabus, I. xix. 10 ff.; recalls Belisarius and sends Sittas to the East, I. xxi. 2, 3; receives information from a Persian spy, I. xxi. 13; concludes the "endless peace," I. xxii. 16; receives in Byzantium the Cabades who claimed to be the son of Zames, I. xxiii. 24; his conduct during the Nika insurrection, I. xxiv. 10 ff.; his affection for John the Cappadocian, I. xxv. 5, 25, 33; denounced by the Armenian embassy before Chosroes, II. iii. 37 ff.; refuses to sanction treaty, II. xiii. 29; summons Belisarius from Italy and sends him against Chosroes, II. xiv. 8; commands Belisarius to invade Persia, II. xvi. 5; sends him again against Chosroes, II. xx. 20; summons Belisarius from the East in order to send him to Italy, II. xxi. 34; takes measures for the relief of the victims of the pestilence, II. xxiii. 5 ff.; attacked by the pestilence, II. xxiii. 20; orders Valerianus and Martinus with others to invade Persia, II. xxiv. 10; appoints Marcellus and Constantianus generals, II. xxviii. 2; sanctions the five-year peace, II. xxviii. 11; receives Isdigousnas with especial honour, II. xxviii. 38 ff.; sends succour to the Lazi, II. xxix. 10; neglects to send money requested by Goubazes, II. xxix. 30-32; finally sends the money for the Sabeiri, and gifts of money to Goubazes, II. xxx. 28; sends John Tzibus to Lazica, II. xv. 9; founds Petra in Lazica, II. xv. 10, xxix. 20; makes a present of money to Chosroes, I. xxvi. 4; considers the question of Strata, II. i. 7 ff.; accused of tampering with Alamoundaras, II. i. 12-14, iii. 47, x. 16; advises Chosroes not to wage war, II. iv. 17 ff.; sends Germanus to Syria, II. vi. 9; sends ambassadors to Chosroes, II. vii. 15; favours the Green Faction, II. xi. 32; writes to Chosroes, II. xiii. 1; the years of his reign noted, I. xvi. 10, xxii. 17, II. iii. 56, v. 1, xxviii. 11, xxx. 48 Justinus, uncle of Justinian, I. xi. 10; an officer in the Roman army, I. viii. 3; becomes emperor, I. xi. 1; declines to adopt Chosroes, I. xi. 6 ff.; reduces Hypatius from authority, I. xi. 39; captures Peter of Arzanene during Celer's invasion, II. xv. 7; supports the Iberians in their revolt from the Persians, I. xii. 5 ff.; makes Justinian partner in the royal power, I. xii. 21; appoints Procopius adviser to Belisarius, I. xii. 24; his death, I. xiii. 1 Justus, nephew of Justinian, assists in making Hypatius prisoner, I. xxiv. 53; takes refuge with Bouzes in Hierapolis II. xx. 20; they invite Belisarius to join them, II. xx. 21 ff.; but later come to him in Europum, II. xx. 28; commands a detachment of an army to invade Persia, II. xxiv. 15; invades Persia apart from the other commanders, II. xxiv. 20; invades the country about Taraunon with Peranius, II. xxv. 35; his death, II. xxviii. 1 Lazica, Lazi, later names for Colchis and Colchi (_q.v._), I. xi. 28; its cities, II. xxix. 18; an unproductive country, I. xii. 17 II. xxviii. 27; imported salt and other necessities of life, II. xv. 5, xxviii. 27; many fortresses there, II. xxx. 27; difficult to traverse, II. xxix. 24, 25; bulwark against the barbarians of the Caucasus, II. xxviii. 22; its importance to Persia, II. xxviii. 18 ff.; the scene of the story of Jason and Medea, II. xvii. 2; the Lazi in ancient times allies of the Persians, II. xv. 15; become allies of the Romans, II. xv. 16; the people Christian, II. xxviii. 26; Lazica claimed by the Persians, I. xi. 28; forts of, abandoned by the Romans and occupied by the Persians, I. xii. 19; Chosroes refuses to return them to the Romans, I. xxii. 3; finally given up by the Persians, I. xxii. 18; invaded by Chosroes, I. xxiii. 12, II. xv. 1, xvii. 1 ff.; limited subjection of the Lazi to the Romans, II. xv. 2-4; placed under a Roman magistrate, II. iii. 39; become discontented by reason of Roman misrule, II. xv. 6 ff.; appeal to Chosroes, II. xv. 1, 12 ff.; demanded from Chosroes by the Roman envoys, II. xxviii. 6; Chosroes plans to populate it with Persians, II. xxviii. 17; Lazi hostile to Persian rule, II. xxviii. 25 Lebanon, I. xiii. 5, II. viii. 2, xvi. 17, xix. 33 Libelarius of Thrace, Roman general, invades Mesopotamia, I. xii. 23; reduced from office, I. xii. 24 Libyans, II. iii. 42 Ligurians, envoys of Vittigis to Chosroes, II. ii. 1 Longinus, commander of Isaurians, I. xviii. 7 Lucas, father of John, I. xvii. 44 Lycaones, in the army of Belisarius, I. xviii. 40 Macedonians, founders of Seleucia and Ctesiphon, II. xxviii. 4 Maddeni, tribe of Saracens in Arabia, subject to the Homeritae, I. xix. 14, I. xx. 9 Magi, advise Perozes to deceive the Ephthalitae, I. iii. 18 ff.; entrap Arsaces, I. v. 19 ff.; advice to Cabades at the siege of Amida, I. vii. 19; announce to Chosroes that he will capture Sura, II. v. 9; answer Cabades' enquiry with regard to Edessa, II. xiii. 9, 10; guardians of the fire-sanctuary, II. xxiv. 2 Mamas, priest of Daras, assists in overthrowing the tyranny of John, I. xxvi. 8 Marcellus, nephew of Justinian, appointed general, II. xxviii. 2 Marcellus, Roman commander at the battle of Daras I. xiii. 21; commander of palace guards, sent by Theodora to assassinate John the Cappadocian, I. xxv. 24 ff.; wounded in the encounter, I. xxv. 29 Martinus, given as a hostage to the Persians, I. xxi. 27; sent to the East, II. xiv. 9; defends Daras against Chosroes, II. xiii. 16 ff.; ordered to invade Persia with Valerianus, II., xxiv. 10; General of the East, encamps at Citharizon, II. xxiv. 13; follows Peter in invading Persia, II. xxiv. 19; commands the centre at the battle of Anglon II. xxv. 17; with Peter and Peranius defends Edessa against Chosroes, II. xxvi. 25 ff.; deceived by the Persian commanders, II. xxvi. 44 ff., xxvii. 5, 6; arranges a settlement with Chosroes, II. xxvii. 45, 46 Martyropolis, near the River Nymphius, I. viii. 22; distance from Amida, I. xxi. 6; besieged by the Persians, I. xxi. 5 ff.; fears of Sittas and Hermogenes concerning its safety, I. xxi. 23; siege abandoned by the Persians, I. xxi. 27; near Phison, II. xxiv. 15 Mary, wife of Hypatius, tries to prevent her husband from going to the hippodrome, I. xxiv. 23, 24 Massagetae, reported to be preparing to join the Persians, I. xxi. 13. _See also_"Huns" Mebodes, a Persian official, sent as envoy to the Romans, I. xi. 25; slanders Seoses, I. xi. 31; persuades Cabades to leave a written declaration concerning Chosroes, I. xxi. 17-19; opposes the claim of Caoses, I. xxi. 20; secures the election of Chosroes as king, I. xxi. 22; his tragic death, I. xxiii. 25 ff. Medea, the tale of her adventure with Jason in Colchis, II. xvii. 2 Medes, the name used by Procopius as an equivalent for "Persians" (_q.v._) Medic garments, called to Procopius' time "seric," I. xx. 9 Megas, bishop of Beroea, sent to Chosroes, II. vi. 17; begs him to spare the Roman cities, II. vi. 18 ff.; goes to Antioch, II. vii. 1; fails to persuade the citizens of Antioch to pay money to Chosroes, II. vii. 14; his conference with Chosroes at Beroea, II. vii. 19 ff. Melitene, chief city of Armenia Minor, I. xvii. 22 Mermeroes, Persian general, invades Roman Armenia, I. xv. 1 ff.; driven back by Dorotheus and Sittas, I. xv. 8; invades Roman territory a second time, I. xv. 9; defeated at Satala, I. xv. 12 ff.; shares command of an invading army, I. xxi. 4; lends an army to the relief of Petra, II. xxix. 13, xxx. 1 ff.; forces the pass into Iberia, II. xxx. 8-10; reaches Petra, II. xxx. 15; taunts the Romans, II. xxx. 17; leaving a garrison in Petra, starts back, II. xxx. 20; attacked by Phoubelis and Goubazes, II. xxx. 22; departs from Lazica with the greater part of his army, II. xxx. 32, 33 Mesopotamia, bounded by the Tigris and the Euphrates, I. xvii. 23; its hot climate, II. xix. 31; Persians accustomed to invade Roman territory from here, I. xvii. 25; avoided by invading Persian army, I. xvii. 2; invaded by the Persians, I. xxi. 4 ff. Michael, sanctuary of, in Daphne, burned by Chosroes, II. xi. 6, 12, 13; temple of, at Tretum, II. xi. 7, 13 Mindouos, place near the Persian border, Justinian attempts to fortify it, I. xiii. 2, xvi. 7 Mirranes, a Persian term (_lit._ "Mithra-son," denoting properly, not an office, but a patrician family); _see_ Perozes 2; also, commander in Petra, deceives Dagisthaeus, II. xxx. 7 Mocheresis, important city of Lazica, II. xxix. 18 Molatzes, commander of troops in Lebanon, brings succour to Antioch, II. viii. 2; flees precipitately with the soldiers, II. viii. 17-19 Monks, distinguished for piety, I. vii. 22, 24 Moors, II. ii. 8, iii. 46 Mopsuestia, a city of Cilicia, II. x. 2 Mundus, general in Illyricum, assists in quelling the Nika insurrection, I. xxiv. 40 ff. Nabedes, commander of the Persian soldiers in Nisibis, II. xviii. 9; attacks the Roman troops before the city, II. xviii. 19 ff.; general in Persarmenia, takes measures to urge the Romans toward making peace, II. xxiv. 6; takes up his position in Anglon, II. xxv. 6; defeats the Roman armies, II. xxv. 20 ff. Narses, a Persarmenian, the emperor's steward, receives Narses and Aratius when they desert to the Romans, I. xv. 31; a eunuch, I. xxv. 24; sent by Theodora to assist in the assassination of John the Cappadocian, _ib._; overhears his conversation with Antonina, I. xxv. 26 Narses, a Persarmenian, in company with Aratius defeats Sittas and Belisarius, I. xii. 21, 22; deserts to the Romans, I. xv. 31; dismantles the sanctuaries in Philae at Justinian's order, I. xix. 37; encamps with Valerianus near Theodosiopolis, II. xxiv. 12; leads the attack at Anglon, II. xxv. 20; dies bravely, II. xxv. 24; brother of Isaac, II. xxiv. 14 Nicetas, father of the general John, I. xiii. 21, II. xix. 36, xxiv. 15 Nika insurrection, in Byzantium, I. xxiv. 1 ff.; significance of the name, I. xxiv. 10 Nile River, the Nobatae dwell along its banks, I. xix. 28, 29; the island of Philae in it, I. xix. 34 Nisibis, distance from the Tigris, I. xi. 27; from Daras, I. x. 14; from Sisauranon, II. xix. 2; bulwark of the Persian empire, II. xviii. 7; its capture by the Persians, I. xvii. 25; its territory invaded by Libelarius, I. xii. 23; by Belisarius, II. xviii. 1 ff.; negotiations with Chosroes there, I. xxii. 10 Nobatae, a people of upper Aegypt, I. xix. 28; settled along the Nile by Diocletian, I. xix. 29 ff.; receive annual payment from the Roman emperor, I. xix. 32, 33; their religion, I. xix. 35 Nymphius River, near Martyropolis, I. viii. 22, xxi. 6; forms boundary between the Roman and Persian territory, I. xxi. 6; boundary of Arzanene, I. viii. 21, II. xv. 7 Oasis, city in upper Aegypt, former home of the Nobatae, I. xix. 30 Obbane, on the Euphrates, distance from Barbalissum, II. xii. 4 Octava, place in Armenia, distance from Satala, I. xv. 9 Odonathus, ruler of the Saracens, husband of Zenobia, II. v. 5; his services to the Romans, II. v. 6 Oenochalakon, place in Armenia, II. iii. 15 Olyvrius, emperor of the West, father-in-law of Areobindus, I. viii. 1 Orestes, the story of his flight from Tauris, I. xvii. 11 ff. Origenes, a senator, counsels moderation, I. xxiv. 26 ff. Orocasius, highest part of the city of Antioch, II. vi. 10 Orontes River, flows along by Antioch, II. vi. 10, viii. 3, 35 Osiris, worshipped by the Blemyes and Nobatae, I. xix. 35 Osroene, name applied to country about Edessa, I. xvii. 24; its strongly fortified cities, I. xvii. 34 Osroes, ancient king of Edessa, I. xvii. 24 Pacurius, king of Persia at the time of the truceless war with the Armenians, I. v. 10; entraps Arsaces, I. v. 16 ff.; confines Arsaces in the Prison of Oblivion, I. v. 29; flays Bassicius, I. v. 28; grants favour to a friend of Arsaces, I. v. 30 ff. Palestine, bounded by the "Red Sea," I. xix. 2; Saracens dwelling in it, I. xix. 10; the objective of Chosroes' third invasion, II. xx. 18; visited by the pestilence, II. xxii. 6 Palm Groves, held by Saracens of Arabia, I. xix. 8, 9, II. iii. 41; presented to Justinian, I. xix. 10 ff. Palmyra, city of Phoenicia, II. i. 6 Parthians, their connection with the first Arsaces, II. iii. 32 Patriciolus, an officer in the Roman army, I. viii. 3 Patricias, the Phrygian, Roman general, I. viii. 2; his army routed by Cabades, I. viii. 10-18; his escape, I. viii. 19; entraps Glones with two hundred Persians, I. ix. 5-18 Paulus, interpreter of Chosroes, II. vi. 22; a Roman reared in Antioch, II. vi. 23; presents the Persian demands at Hierapolis, II. vi. 22; at Beroea, II. vii. 5; at Antioch, II. viii. 4; where he exhorts the citizens to abstain from their folly, II. viii. 7; at Chalcis, II. xii. 1; at Edessa, II. xii. 33; a second time at Edessa, II. xxvi. 14, xxvii. 24, 45 Pearl, story of the, I. iv. 17-31 Peloponnesus, escapes plunder by the Huns, II. iv. 11 Pelusium, in Aegypt, the starting point of the pestilence, II. xxii. 6 Peranius, son of Gourgenes, king of Iberia, I. xii. 11; commands a detachment of an army to invade Persia, II. xxiv. 15; invades the country about Taraunon with Justus, II. xxv. 35; with Peter and Martinus defends Edessa against Chosroes, II. xxvi. 25 ff., xxvii. 42; Chosroes demands that he and Peter be surrendered to him, II. xxvi. 38; his death, II. xxviii. 1 Perozes, Persian king, wages war against the Ephthalitae, I. iii. 1, 8; entrapped by the Ephthalitae, I. iii. 10 ff.; escapes with his army, I. iii. 22; his second expedition, I. iv. 1 ff.; destroyed with his army by the Ephthalitae, I. iv. 14 ff.; his famous pearl, I. iv. 14 Perozes, Persian general, I. xiii. 16; interchange of letters with Belisarius and Hermogenes, I. xiv. 1 ff.; address to his troops, I. xiv. 13 ff.; defeated by Belisarius, I. xiv. 28 ff.; punished by Cabades, I. xvii. 26 ff. Perozes, sons of, murder Symeon, II. iii. 3 Persarmenia, its trade with India, II. xxv. 3; devastated by Sittas and Belisarius, I. xii. 20 Persarmenians, in the Persian army, I. xv. 1 Persians, worship the rising sun, I. iii. 20; their fire-worship, II. xxiv. 2; do not bury the dead, I. xi. 35, xii. 4; their set character, II. xxviii. 25; their trade in Indian silk, I. xx. 9; the arrogance of their officials, I. xi. 33; their custom of counting an army before and after a campaign, I. xviii. 52 ff.; their infantry inefficient, I. xiv. 25; their bowmen quick, but inferior to those of the Romans, I. xviii. 32; their skill in bridging rivers, II. xxi. 22; maintain spies at public expense, I. xxi. 11; suffer a severe defeat at the hands of the Ephthalitae, I. iv. 13, 14; pay tribute to the Ephthalitae for two years, I. iv. 35; make peace with Theodosius, I. ii. 15; unable to prevent the fortification of Daras, I. x. 15; capture Amida, I. vii. 29; receive money from the Romans and give back Amida, I. ix. 4; wage war with the Huns during the seven-years' peace with the Romans, I. ix. 24; seize certain forts in Lazica, I. xii. 19; prevent the fortification of Mindouos, I. xiii. 7, 8; defeated in battle at Daras, I. xiv. 47 ff.; defeated in Persarmenia, I. xv. 8; and in Armenia, I. xv. 16; refrain from entering Roman territory by Mesopotamia, I. xvii. 25; victorious in the battle on the Euphrates, I. xviii. 37; invade Mesopotamia, I. xxi. 4; besiege Martyropolis in vain, I. xxi. 5 ff.; make peace with the Romans, I. xxii. 17, 18; capture Sura, II. v. 25; and Beroea, II. vii. 12 ff.; capture and destroy Antioch, II. viii. 20 ff.; capture Petra, II. xvii. 27; besiege Edessa in vain, II. xxvi. 5 ff., xxvii. 46; save Petra from capture by the Romans, II. xxix. 41 ff.; suffer a severe defeat in Lazica, II. xxx. 39 ff. Pestilence, The, devastates the whole world, II. xxii. 1 ff.; in Byzantium, II. xxii. 9 ff.; in Persia, II. xxiv. 8, 12 Peter, captured as a boy in Arzanene by Justinus, II. xv. 7; Roman general, sent to Lazica, I. xii. 9; summoned to Byzantium, I. xii. 14; bodyguard of Justinian, commander of infantry, I. xviii. 6; at the battle on the Euphrates, I. xviii. 42; favours invasion of Persia by Belisarius, II. xvi. 16; attacked by the Persians before Nisibis, II. xviii. 16 ff.; commands a detachment in an army to invade Persia, II. xxiv. 13; precipitately enters Persia, II. xxiv. 18; commands the right wing at the battle of Anglon, II. xxv. 17; with Martinus and Peranius defends Edessa against Chosroes, II. xxvi. 25 ff.; Chosroes demands that he and Peranius be surrendered to him, II. xxvi. 38; his base character and misrule in Lazica, II. xv. 6-8 Petra, built by Justinian in Lazica, II. xv. 10, xvii. 3, xxix. 20; its impregnable defences, II. xvii. 18 ff.; attacked by the Persians, II. xvii. 4 ff.; besieged by Chosroes, II. xvii. 13 ff.; captured by Chosroes, II. xvii. 26; fortified with a garrison, II. xix. 48; besieged by the Romans and Lazi, II. xxix. 11 ff.; the siege abandoned, II. xxx. 11; valour of the Persian defenders, II. xxix. 35; monopoly established there by John Tzibus, II. xv. 11, xxix. 21 Petrae, ancient capital of the Arabs, I. xix. 20 Phabrizus, high Persian official, II. xxviii. 16; employed by Chosroes for the furtherance of his plans, II. xxviii. 17; attempts to destroy Goubazes, II. xxix. 2 ff.; left as commander in Lazica by Mermeroes, II. xxx. 32; his forces almost annihilated by the Lazi, II. xxx. 42 ff. Pharangium, fortress in Persarmenia, occupied by the Romans, I. xv. 18; gold-mines of the Persians there, I. xv. 27, 29; given over to the Romans, I. xv. 29, II. iii. 1; its return demanded by Chosroes, I. xxii. 3; given up by the Romans, I. xxii. 18; near the source of the Boas River, II. xxix. 14 Pharas, an Erulian chief, at the battle of Daras, I. xiii. 19, 25 ff., xiv. 32, 33, 39 Pharesmanes, of Colchis, an officer in the Roman army, I. viii. 3 Pharsanses, a man of note in Lazica, II. xxix. 4; his friendship sought by Phabrizus, II. xxix. 5; saves Goubazes, II. xxix. 7 Phasis River, its source in the Taurus, I. xxv. 21; its course through Lazica, II. xxix. 16; its size and strong current, II. xxx. 25, 26; strongly defended by the Lazi, II. xxx. 27; forded by the Lazi, II. xxx. 37 Philae, fortress established by Diocletian on an island in the Nile near Elephantina, I. xix. 34-36; its temples dismantled by Justinian, I. xix. 36, 37 Philemouth, an Erulian chief, encamps near Martinus, I. xxiv. 14; with Beros follows Peter into Persia, II. xxiv. 18 Phison, place in Armenia near Martyropolis, II. xxiv. 15 Phocas, made pretorian prefect in place of John the Cappadocian, I. xxiv. 18 Phoenicia, II. xvi. 17 Phoubelis, a notable among the Lazi, with Dagisthaeus attacks Mermeroes, II. xxx. 22 Pitius, a fortress in Lazica, II. xxix. 18 Pityaxes, Persian general at the battle of Daras, I. xiii. 16, xiv. 32, 38 Placillianae, palace In Byzantium, I. xxiv. 30 Pompeius, nephew of Anastasius, sent from the palace by Justinian, I. xxiv. 19-21; brought before Justinian as a prisoner, I. xxiv. 53; his death, I. xxiv. 56 Pontic Romans, their location, II. xxix. 19 Pontus, visited by Orestes, I. xvii. 14 Potidaea, known in later times as Cassandria, captured by the Huns, II. iv. 5 Priapus, worshipped by the Blemyes and Nobatae, I. xix. 35 Prison of Oblivion, in Persia, reason for the name, I. v. 8; law regarding it suspended once in the case of Arsaces, I. v. 9-29; Cabades confined therein, I. v. 7 Probus, nephew of Anastasius, sent by Justinus to Bosporus to collect an army of Huns, I. xii. 6, 9 Proclus, quaestor, dissuades Justinus from adopting Chosroes, I. xi. 11 ff. Procopius of Caesarea, author of the _History of the Wars_, I. i. 1; eye-witness of the events described, I. i. 3; chosen adviser to Belisarius, I. i. 3, xii. 24; in Byzantium at the time of the pestilence, II. xxii. 9; had seen Cappadocia and Armenia, I. xvii. 17; his frankness in writing, I. i. 5 Pylades, the story of the flight with Orestes from Tauris, I. xvii. 11 ff. Red Sea, its location, extent, harbours, etc. (confused by Procopius with the Arabian Gulf), I. xix. 2 ff., II. iii. 41 Rhecinarius, envoy to Chosroes, II. xxvii. 24, 25 Rhecithancus, of Thrace, commander of troops in Lebanon, objects to invading Persia with Belisarius, II. xvi. 17 ff.; eager to return to Lebanon, II. xix. 33, 34; commands an army sent to Lazica, II. xxx. 29 Rhizaeum, a city near Lazica, II. xxix. 22, xxx. 14 Rhodopolis, important city of Lazica, II. xxix. 18 Romans, used by Procopius to designate the subjects of the empire of Byzantium, and mentioned constantly throughout; lack of discipline in Roman armies, I. xiv. 14; their bowmen more efficient than those of the Persians, I. xviii. 34; maintain spies at public expense, I. xxi. 11 Rufinianae, suburb of Byzantium, I. xxv. 21, 23 Rufinus, son of Silvanus, sent as an envoy to the Persians, I. xi. 24; slanders Hypatius, I. xi. 38; sent as ambassador to Hierapolis, I. xiii. 11; treats with Cabades at Daras, I. xvi. 1 ff.; reports to the emperor I. xvi. 10; meets Chosroes on the Tigris, I. xxii. 1; sent, to Byzantium, I. xxii. 7; false report of his death, I. xxii. 9; persuades Chosroes to give back the money brought by the ambassadors and postpone the war, I. xxii. 13, 14; slandered to the emperor, I. xxii. 15; sent again as ambassador to Chosroes, I. xxii. 16; brother of Timostratus, I. xvii. 44; father of John, the ambassador, II. vii. 15 Sabeiri Huns, their location, II. xxix. 15; in the Persian army, I. xv. 1; persuaded by Goubazes to form an alliance with him, II. xxix. 29; receive promised money from Justinian, II. xxx. 28 Saccice, mother of Alamoundaras, I. xvii. 1 Samosata, city on the Euphrates, I. xvii. 22; on the boundary of Euphratesia, I. xvii. 23 Saracens, experts at plundering, but not at storming cities, II. xix. 12; in Persia, all ruled by Alamoundaras, I. xvii. 45; some in alliance with the Romans, I. xviii. 46; their king Odonathus, II. v. 5; of Arabia, ruled by Arethas, I. xvii. 47; receiving annual payments from the Romans, II. x. 23; settled in the Palm Groves, I. xix. 7, 8; and in Palestine, I. xix. 10; cannibals in Arabia, I. xix. 15; never mentioned in treaties, II. i. 5; observe a religious holiday at the vernal equinox, II. xvi. 18; dispute possession of Strata, II. i. 6; in the army of Chosroes, II. xxvii. 30; in the army of Azarethes, I. xvii. 1, xviii. 30; with the army of Belisarius, I. xviii. 7, 26, 35, 36, II. xvi. 5; wage war among themselves, II. xxviii. 12-14 Sarapanis, a city of Lazica, II. xxix. 18 Sarus River, in Cappadocia, I. xvii. 17 Satala, city in Armenia, its location, I. xv. 9, 10; battle of, I. xv. 12 ff. Scanda, a city in Lazica, II. xxix. 18 Sebastopolis, a fortress of Lazica, II. xxix. 18 Seleucia, city on the Tigris, founded by the Macedonians, II xxviii. 4 Seleucia, distance from Antioch, II. xi. 1; visited by Chosroes, _ib._ Senecius, body-guard of Sittas, given as a hostage to the Persians, I. xxi. 27 Seoses, rescues Cabades from the Prison of Oblivion, I. vi. 4. 10; receives the office of "adrastadaran salanes," I. vi 18, 19; sent as envoy to the Romans, I. vi. 25; slandered by Mebodes and brought to trial, I. xi. 31 ff.; condemned to death, I. xi 37 Sergiopolis, city in Mesopotamia, II. v. 29; citizens of, give much treasure to Chosroes, II. xx. 7; saved from capture by Ambrus, II. xx. 10; besieged In vain by Chosroes, II. xx. 11 ff. Sergius, an illustrious saint, II. v. 29 Sergius, of Edessa, II. xxiv. 4; envoy to Chosroes with Constantianus, II. xxiv. 3; a second time envoy to Chosroes with Const., II. xxviii. 3 ff. Sestus, city opposite Abydus on the Hellespont, II. iv. 9 Silentiarius, a title given to certain officials in the palace at Byzantium, "privy councillors," II. xxii. 1, II. xxix. 31 Silvanus, father of Rufinus, I. xi. 24, xvi. 4 Simmas, Massagete chief, in the Roman army, I. xiii. 21, xiv. 44 Siphrios, a fortress, distance from Amida, I. viii. 10 Sisauranon, fortress in Mesopotamia, II. xix. 2; attacked by Belisarius, II. xix. 4; capitulates to Belisarius, II. xix. 23, 24 Sittas, Roman general, in company with Belisarius invades Persarmenia, I. xii. 20, 21; defeated by Narses and Aratius, I. xii. 22; attacks the Persian army invading Armenia, I. xv. 3 ff.; occupies the hills about Satala, I. xv. 10; attacks the Persian army unexpectedly, I. xv. 12; defeats the Tzani in battle and then wins them over by kindness, I. xv. 24, 25; proceeds to the East, I. xxi. 3; awaits the Persian army at Attachas, I. xxi. 9; opens negotiations with the Persians before Martyropolis, I. xxi. 23 ff.; sent against the Armenians, II. iii. 8 ff.; his death, II. iii. 25; his valour and achievements, II. iii. 26 Snail, Gate of the, in the palace in Byzantium, I. xxiv. 43 Soinian Gate, in the wall of Edessa, II. xxvii. 41 Solomon, an Armenian, according to one report slew Sittas, II. iii. 27 Sophanene, district in Armenia, I. xxi. 6 Sophia, sanctuary of, destroyed by fire to the Nika insurrection, I. xxiv. 9; its treasures guarded by the priest Augustus, II. xxx. 53 Stephanacius, commander of Isaurians, I. xviii. 7 Stephanus, a physician of note, begs Chosroes to spare Edessa, II. xxvi. 31 ff. Strata, its possession disputed by the Saracens, II. i. 6; meaning of the name, II. i. 7; unproductive, II. i. 11 Strategius, guardian of the royal treasures, sent as an envoy by Justinian, II. i. 9; his advice concerning Strata, II. i. 11 Summus, father of Julian, commander in Palestine, sent as an envoy by Justinian, II. i. 9, 10; his advice concerning Strata, II. i. 11 Sunicas, Massagete chief, in the Roman army, I. xiii. 20, xiv. 39. 40, 44; charges the standard bearer of Baresmanas, I. xiv. 47; kills Baresmanas, I. xiv. 60 Sunitae, march in the Persian army, I. xv. 1 Sura, a city on the Euphrates, I. xviii. 14, II. v. 8; distance from Sergiopolis, II. v. 29; besieged by Chosroes, II. v. 10 ff.; bishop of, begs Chosroes to spare the city, II. v. 13 ff.; captured by a stratagem and destroyed, II. v. 22 ff.; a woman of, made captive by a barbarian in sight of Chosroes, II. ix. 9, 10 Sycae, a suburb of Byzantium, modern "Galata," II. xxiii. 9 Symeon, Sanctuary of, at Amida, burned, I. ix. 18 Symeon, manager of the Persian gold-mine at Pharangium, I. xv. 27; goes over to the Romans, I. xv. 28, 29; presented with certain Armenian villages, II. iii. 1; murdered by the sons of Perozes, II. iii. 2; uncle of Amazaspes, II. iii. 3 Syria, open to invasion by the Persians, I. xvii. 34 ff., II. xvi. 17, xix. 34; attacked by Chosroes, II. v. 4, vi. 21 Syriac tongue, II. ii. 3 Taraunon, a district In Persarmenia, invaded by Justus and Peranius, II. xxv. 35 Tatianus, of Mopsuestia, quarter-master of the camp in Antioch, witnesses the portent of the standards, II. x. 2 Taurians, The, in Celesene, I. xvii. 11 ff., 21 Taurus Mountains, The, their size and extent, I. x. 1, 2, xv. 20, xvii. 17 Theoctistus, commander of troops in Lebanon, brings succour to Antioch, II. viii. 2; flees precipitately with the soldiers, II. viii. 17-19; objects to invading Persia with Belisarius, II. xvi. 17 ff.; eager to return to Lebanon, II. xix. 33, 34; commands a detachment in an army to invade Persia, II. xxiv. 13 Theodoric, leader of the Goths, I. viii. 3 Theodora, wife of Justinian, greatly beloved by him, I. xxv. 4; her hatred of John the Cappadocian, _ib._; counsels firmness in dealing with the Nika insurrection, I. xxiv. 33 ff.; encourages Antonina in her plan to entrap John the Cappadocian, I. xxv. 22; succeeds in punishing him, I. xxv. 30; her death, II. xxx. 49 Theodoras, a citizen of Daras, skilled in mechanics, II. xiii. 26 Theodorus, an official in the palace in Byzantium, superintends the work of providing burial for the victims of the pestilence, II. xxiii. 6 ff. Theodosiopolis, its location, I. x. 18, xv. 2, II. xxiv. 12; near the sources of the Euphrates and Tigris, I. xvii. 4; fortified by Anastasius, I. x. 19; near Bolum, I. xv. 32; distance from Doubios, II. xxv. 1; from Citharizon, II. xxiv. 13 Theodosiopolis, city near the Aborrhas River, II. xix. 29 Theodosius II., son of Arcadius, as a child is made the ward of the Persian king Isdigerdes, I. ii. 1 ff.; sends Anatolius as envoy to the Persians, I. ii. 12; makes peace with the Persians, I. ii. 15; Arsaces' abdication of the kingship of Armenia in his favour, II. iii. 35 Thermopylae, attacked by the Huns, II. iv. 10 Thessaly, plundered by the Huns, II. iv. 10 Thilasamon, village near Amida, I. ix. 14 Thomas, chief priest of Apamea, displays the wood of the cross, II. xi. 16 ff.; goes before Chosroes, II. xi. 20 ff.; saves the wood of the cross, II. xi. 29, 30 Thomas, ambassador to the Persians, meets Chosroes on the Tigris, I. xxii. 1 Thomas Gouzes, commander in Lazica, II. xxx. 5 Thrace, Thracians in the army of Belisarius, II. xix. 32, xxi. 4; home of Coutzes and Bouzes, I. xiii. 5 Timostratus, brother of Rufinus, Roman officer, captured by Alamoundaras, I. xvii. 43, 44 Tigris River, its source in Armenia, I. xvii. 4; its course into Assyria, I. xvii. 5, 6; distance from Nisibis, I. xi. 27; its junction with the Euphrates, I. xvii. 22; flows between Seleucia and Ctesiphon, II. xxviii. 5 Trajan, a guardsman, sent with Arethas into Assyria, II. xix. 15 ff.; they return by another route, II. xix. 28 ff. Trapezus, city on the Euxine, II. xxix. 22, xxx. 14 Tretum, a place near Antioch where was a temple of Michael, II. xi. 7 Tribunianus, a Pamphylian, quaestor, I. xxiv. 11; his dexterity in manipulating laws, I. xxiv. 16; dismissed from office, I. xxiv. 17; restored to office, I. xxv. 1, 2; his death, I. xxv. 2 Tribunus, a physician, beloved by Chosroes, II. xxviii. 8 ff. Tripod, before the palace of the Persian king, where all must sit who fell under the king's displeasure, I. xxiii. 28 Tripurgia, a place at Edessa, II. xxvii. 41 Tzani, called Sani in early times, I. xv. 21; the source of the Boas River among them, II. xxix. 14; conquered by the Romans, I. xv. 19 ff.; become Christian, I. xv. 25; reduced to subjection, II. iii. 39; with the Roman army at Petra, II. xxix. 10, 41; defend the Roman camp, II. xxx. 13; return to their homes, II. xxx. 14 Valerianus, appointed general of Armenia, II. xiv. 8; receives Persian envoys, II. xxiv. 6-8; reports to Justinian, II. xxiv. 9; ordered to invade Persia with Martinus, II. xxiv. 10; encamps near Theodosiopolis, II. xxiv. 12; follows Peter in invading Persia, II. xxiv. 19; commands the left wing at the battle of Anglon, II. xxv. 17 Vandals, II. ii. 8, iii. 46 Vararanes, Persian king, invades Roman territory, I. ii. 11 ff.; concludes peace with the Romans, I. ii. 15 Varizes, title of a Persian general (_lit._ "victorious," properly a family name), I. xii. 10 Varrames, son of Adergoudounbades, shares the secret of the sparing of Chosroes, I. xxiii. 10; reveals to Chosroes the true story, I. xxiii. 13; made chanaranges, I. xxiii. 22 Veneti, name of one of the factions, I. xxiv. 2-6; supported by Justinian, II. xi. 32; also called the Blue Faction, _ib._ Venetian Colonnade, The, in Byzantium, I. xxiv. 49 Veredi, the government post horses, II. xx. 20 Vesta, _see_ Hestia Vitalianus, son of Patriciolus, an officer in the Roman army, I. viii. 3; becomes tyrant, _ib._ his hostility to Anastasius, I. xiii. 10; his adviser Hermogenes, _ib._ Vittigis, king of the Goths, sends ambassadors to Chosroes, II. ii. 1; they address Chosroes, II. ii. 4 ff.; brought to Byzantium by Belisarius, II. iv. 13, xxi. 28; remains in Byzantium, II. xiv. 10; envoys of, one dies, the other remains in Persia, II. xiv. 11; their interpreter captured, II. xiv. 12 White Syrians, old name for the inhabitants of Armenia Minor, I. xvii. 21 Zaberganes, misrepresents Mebodes to Chosroes, I. xxiii. 25, 26; reproaches Chosroes, II. viii. 30 ff.; at the bidding of Chosroes receives the envoys of Edessa, II. xxvi. 16-19 Zames, son of Cabades, disqualified from succeeding his father, I. xi. 4; II. ix. 12; plot to put him in power in place of Chosroes, I. xxiii. 4, 5; slain by Chosroes, I. xxiii. 6 Zechi, their location, II. xxix. 15 Zeno, Roman emperor at the time of the Persian king Arsaces, I. iii. 8 Zenobia, city on the Euphrates, II. v. 4; founded by Zenobia, II. v. 5; Chosroes refrains from attacking it, II. v. 7 Zenobia, wife of Odonathus, founder of the city of Zenobia, II. v. 5 Zeuxippus, Baths of, destroyed by fire in the Nika insurrection, I. xxiv. 9 * * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Index errata: "Caisus" should read "Caïsus" Under Aigan "Massagete" should read "Massagetae" Also under: Ascan Simmas Sunicus Under Auxomis "Elephantina" should be "Elephantine" Also under: Elephantina Philae Under Darras "Ammodius" should be "Ammodios" "Florentinus" should be "Florentius" Under Julian "Summas" should be "Summus" "Orocasius" should read "Orocasias" Under Phocus "pretorian" should read "praetorian"] 
20298	----	PROCOPIUS WITH AN ENGLISH TRANSLATION BY H.B. DEWING IN SEVEN VOLUMES III HISTORY OF THE WARS, BOOKS V AND VI LONDON WILLIAM HEINEMANN LTD CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS _First printed_ 1919 _Printed in Great Britain_ CONTENTS PAGE HISTORY OF THE WARS-- BOOK V.--THE GOTHIC WAR 1 BOOK VI.--THE GOTHIC WAR (_continued_) 287 INDEX 427 * * * * * PLAN OF WALLS AND GATES OF ROME _facing_ 185 PROCOPIUS OF CAESAREA HISTORY OF THE WARS: BOOK V THE GOTHIC WAR I Such, then, were the fortunes of the Romans in Libya. I shall now proceed to the Gothic War, first telling all that befell the Goths and Italians before this war. During the reign of Zeno[A] in Byzantium the power in the West was held by Augustus, whom the Romans used to call by the diminutive name Augustulus because he took over the empire while still a lad,[B] his father Orestes, a man of the greatest discretion, administering it as regent for him. Now it happened that the Romans a short time before had induced the Sciri and Alani and certain other Gothic nations to form an alliance with them; and from that time on it was their fortune to suffer at the hand of Alaric and Attila those things which have been told in the previous narrative.[1] And in proportion as the barbarian element among them became strong, just so did the prestige of the Roman soldiers forthwith decline, and under the fair name of alliance they were more and more tyrannized over by the intruders and oppressed by them; so that the barbarians ruthlessly forced many other measures upon the Romans much against their will and finally demanded that they should divide with them the entire land of Italy. And indeed they commanded Orestes to give them the third part of this, and when he would by no means agree to do so, they killed him immediately.[C] Now there was a certain man among the Romans named Odoacer, one of the bodyguards of the emperor, and he at that time agreed to carry out their commands, on condition that they should set him upon the throne. And when he had received the supreme power in this way, [D] he did the emperor no further harm, but allowed him to live thenceforth as a private citizen. And by giving the third part of the land to the barbarians, and in this way gaining their allegiance most firmly, he held the supreme power securely for ten years.[2] DATES: [A]474-491 A.D. [B]July 31, 475 A.D. [C]July 28, 476 A.D. [D]July 28, 476 A.D. It was at about this same time that the Goths also, who were dwelling in Thrace with the permission of the emperor, took up arms against the Romans under the leadership of Theoderic, a man who was of patrician rank and had attained the consular office in Byzantium. But the Emperor Zeno, who understood how to settle to his advantage any situation in which he found himself, advised Theoderic to proceed to Italy, attack Odoacer, and win for himself and the Goths the western dominion. For it was better for him, he said, especially as he had attained the senatorial dignity, to force out a usurper and be ruler over all the Romans and Italians than to incur the great risk of a decisive struggle with the emperor. Now Theoderic was pleased with the suggestion and went to Italy, and he was followed by the Gothic host, who placed in their waggons the women and children and such of their chattels as they were able to take with them. And when they came near the Ionian Gulf,[3] they were quite unable to cross over it, since they had no ships at hand; and so they made the journey around the gulf, advancing through the land of the Taulantii and the other nations of that region. Here the forces of Odoacer encountered them, but after being defeated in many battles, they shut themselves up with their leader in Ravenna and such other towns as were especially strong. [E] And the Goths laid siege to these places and captured them all, in one way or another, as it chanced in each case, except that they were unable to capture, either by surrender or by storm, the fortress of Caesena,[4] which is three hundred stades distant from Ravenna, and Ravenna itself, where Odoacer happened to be. For this city of Ravenna lies in a level plain at the extremity of the Ionian Gulf, lacking two stades of being on the sea, and it is so situated as not to be easily approached either by ships or by a land army. Ships cannot possibly put in to shore there because the sea itself prevents them by forming shoals for not less than thirty stades; consequently the beach at Ravenna, although to the eye of mariners it is very near at hand, is in reality very far away by reason of the great extent of the shoal-water. And a land army cannot approach it at all; for the river Po, also called the Eridanus, which flows past Ravenna, coming from the boundaries of Celtica, and other navigable rivers together with some marshes, encircle it on all sides and so cause the city to be surrounded by water. In that place a very wonderful thing takes place every day. For early in the morning the sea forms a kind of river and comes up over the land for the distance of a day's journey for an unencumbered traveller and becomes navigable in the midst of the mainland, and then in the late afternoon it turns back again, causing the inlet to disappear, and gathers the stream to itself.[5] All those, therefore, who have to convey provisions into the city or carry them out from there for trade or for any other reason, place their cargoes in boats, and drawing them down to the place where the inlet is regularly formed, they await the inflow of the water. And when this comes, the boats are lifted little by little from the ground and float, and the sailors on them set to work and from that time on are seafaring men. And this is not the only place where this happens, but it is the regular occurrence along the whole coast in this region as far as the city of Aquileia. However, it does not always take place in the same way at every time, but when the light of the moon is faint, the advance of the sea is not strong either, but from the first[6] half-moon until the second the inflow has a tendency to be greater. So much for this matter. DATES: [E] 489 A.D. But when the third year had already been spent by the Goths and Theoderic in their siege of Ravenna, the Goths, who were weary of the siege, and the followers of Odoacer, who were hard pressed by the lack of provisions, came to an agreement with each other through the mediation of the priest of Ravenna, the understanding being that both Theoderic and Odoacer should reside in Ravenna on terms of complete equality. And for some time they observed the agreement; but afterward Theoderic caught Odoacer, as they say, plotting against him, and bidding him to a feast with treacherous intent slew him,[7] and in this way, after gaining the adherence of such of the hostile barbarians as chanced to survive, he himself secured the supremacy over both Goths and Italians. And though he did not claim the right to assume either the garb or the name of emperor of the Romans, but was called "rex" to the end of his life (for thus the barbarians are accustomed to call their leaders),[8] still, in governing his own subjects, he invested himself with all the qualities which appropriately belong to one who is by birth an emperor. For he was exceedingly careful to observe justice, he preserved the laws on a sure basis, he protected the land and kept it safe from the barbarians dwelling round about, and attained the highest possible degree of wisdom and manliness. And he himself committed scarcely a single act of injustice against his subjects, nor would he brook such conduct on the part of anyone else who attempted it, except, indeed, that the Goths distributed among themselves the portion of the lands which Odoacer had given to his own partisans. And although in name Theoderic was a usurper, yet in fact he was as truly an emperor as any who have distinguished themselves in this office from the beginning; and love for him among both Goths and Italians grew to be great, and that too contrary to the ordinary habits of men. For in all states men's preferences are divergent, with the result that the government in power pleases for the moment only those with whom its acts find favour, but offends those whose judgment it violates. But Theoderic reigned for thirty-seven years, and when he died, he had not only made himself an object of terror to all his enemies, but he also left to his subjects a keen sense of bereavement at his loss. And he died in the following manner.[F] DATE: [F] 526 A.D. Symmachus and his son-in-law Boetius were men of noble and ancient lineage, and both had been leading men[9] in the Roman senate and had been consuls. But because they practised philosophy and were mindful of justice in a manner surpassed by no other men, relieving the destitution of both citizens and strangers by generous gifts of money, they attained great fame and thus led men of the basest sort to envy them. Now such persons slandered them to Theoderic, and he, believing their slanders, put these two men to death, on the ground that they were setting about a revolution, and made their property confiscate to the public treasury. And a few days later, while he was dining, the servants set before him the head of a great fish. This seemed to Theoderic to be the head of Symmachus newly slain. Indeed, with its teeth set in its lower lip and its eyes looking at him with a grim and insane stare, it did resemble exceedingly a person threatening him. And becoming greatly frightened at the extraordinary prodigy and shivering excessively, he retired running to his own chamber, and bidding them place many covers upon him, remained quiet. But afterwards he disclosed to his physician Elpidius all that had happened and wept for the wrong he had done Symmachus and Boetius. Then, having lamented and grieved exceedingly over the unfortunate occurrence, he died not long afterward. This was the first and last act of injustice which he committed toward his subjects, and the cause of it was that he had not made a thorough investigation, as he was accustomed to do, before passing judgment on the two men. FOOTNOTES: [1] Book III. ii. 7 ff., iv. 29 ff. [2] Odoacer was defeated and shut up in Ravenna by Theoderic in 489, surrendered to him in 493, and was put to death in the same year. His independent rule ([Greek: tyrannis]) therefore lasted thirteen years. [3] Meaning the whole Adriatic; cf. chap. xv. 16, note. [4] Modern Cesena. [5] He means that an estuary ([Greek: porthmos]) is formed by the rising tide in the morning, and the water flows out again as the tide falls in the evening. [6] From the first until the third quarter. [7] See note in Bury's edition of Gibbon, Vol. IV. p. 180, for an interesting account of this event. [8] This is a general observation; the title "rex" was current among the barbarians to indicate a position inferior to that of a [Greek: basileus] or "imperator"; cf. VI. xiv. 38. [9] Probably a reminiscence of the "princeps senatus" of classical times. II After his death[G] the kingdom was taken over by Atalaric, the son of Theoderic's daughter; he had reached the age of eight years and was being reared under the care of his mother Amalasuntha. For his father had already departed from among men. And not long afterward Justinian succeeded to the imperial power in Byzantium. [H]Now Amalasuntha, as guardian of her child, administered the government, and she proved to be endowed with wisdom and regard for justice in the highest degree, displaying to a great extent the masculine temper. As long as she stood at the head of the government she inflicted punishment upon no Roman in any case either by touching his person or by imposing a fine. Furthermore, she did not give way to the Goths in their mad desire to wrong them, but she even restored to the children of Symmachus and Boetius their fathers' estates. Now Amalasuntha wished to make her son resemble the Roman princes in his manner of life, and was already compelling him to attend the school of a teacher of letters. And she chose out three among the old men of the Goths whom she knew to be prudent and refined above all the others, and bade them live with Atalaric. But the Goths were by no means pleased with this. For because of their eagerness to wrong their subjects they wished to be ruled by him more after the barbarian fashion. On one occasion the mother, finding the boy doing some wrong in his chamber, chastised him; and he in tears went off thence to the men's apartments. And some Goths who met him made a great to-do about this, and reviling Amalasuntha insisted that she wished to put the boy out of the world as quickly as possible, in order that she might marry a second husband and with him rule over the Goths and Italians. And all the notable men among them gathered together, and coming before Amalasuntha made the charge that their king was not being educated correctly from their point of view nor to his own advantage. For letters, they said, are far removed from manliness, and the teaching of old men results for the most part in a cowardly and submissive spirit. Therefore the man who is to shew daring in any work and be great in renown ought to be freed from the timidity which teachers inspire and to take his training in arms. They added that even Theoderic would never allow any of the Goths to send their children to school; for he used to say to them all that, if the fear of the strap once came over them, they would never have the resolution to despise sword or spear. And they asked her to reflect that her father Theoderic before he died had become master of all this territory and had invested himself with a kingdom which was his by no sort of right, although he had not so much as heard of letters. "Therefore, O Queen," they said, "have done with these tutors now, and do you give to Atalaric some men of his own age to be his companions, who will pass through the period of youth with him and thus give him an impulse toward that excellence which is in keeping with the custom of barbarians." DATES: [G]526 A.D. [H]527 A.D. When Amalasuntha heard this, although she did not approve, yet because she feared the plotting of these men, she made it appear that their words found favour with her, and granted everything the barbarians desired of her. And when the old men had left Atalaric, he was given the company of some boys who were to share his daily life,--lads who had not yet come of age but were only a little in advance of him in years; and these boys, as soon as he came of age, by enticing him to drunkenness and to intercourse with women, made him an exceptionally depraved youth, and of such stupid folly that he was disinclined to follow his mother's advice. Consequently he utterly refused to champion her cause, although the barbarians were by now openly leaguing together against her; for they were boldly commanding the woman to withdraw from the palace. But Amalasuntha neither became frightened at the plotting of the Goths nor did she, womanlike, weakly give way, but still displaying the dignity befitting a queen, she chose out three men who were the most notable among the barbarians and at the same time the most responsible for the sedition against her, and bade them go to the limits of Italy, not together, however, but as far apart as possible from one another; but it was made to appear that they were being sent in order to guard the land against the enemy's attack. But nevertheless these men by the help of their friends and relations, who were all still in communication with them, even travelling a long journey for the purpose, continued to make ready the details of their plot against Amalasuntha. And the woman, being unable to endure these things any longer, devised the following plan. Sending to Byzantium she enquired of the Emperor Justinian whether it was his wish that Amalasuntha, the daughter of Theoderic, should come to him; for she wished to depart from Italy as quickly as possible. And the emperor, being pleased by the suggestion, bade her come and sent orders that the finest of the houses in Epidamnus should be put in readiness, in order that when Amalasuntha should come there, she might lodge in it and after spending such time there as she wished might then betake herself to Byzantium. When Amalasuntha learned this, she chose out certain Goths who were energetic men and especially devoted to her and sent them to kill the three whom I have just mentioned, as having been chiefly responsible for the sedition against her. And she herself placed all her possessions, including four hundred centenaria[10] of gold, in a single ship and embarked on it some of those most faithful to her and bade them sail to Epidamnus, and, upon arriving there, to anchor in its harbour, but to discharge from the ship nothing whatever of its cargo until she herself should send orders. And she did this in order that, if she should learn that the three men had been destroyed, she might remain there and summon the ship back, having no further fear from her enemies; but if it should chance that any one of them was left alive, no good hope being left her, she purposed to sail with all speed and find safety for herself and her possessions in the emperor's land. Such was the purpose with which Amalasuntha was sending the ship to Epidamnus; and when it arrived at the harbour of that city, those who had the money carried out her orders. But a little later, when the murders had been accomplished as she wished, Amalasuntha summoned the ship back and remaining at Ravenna strengthened her rule and made it as secure as might be. FOOTNOTE: [10] See Book I. xxii. 4; III. vi. 2 and note. III There was among the Goths one Theodatus by name, son of Amalafrida, the sister of Theoderic, a man already of mature years, versed in the Latin literature and the teachings of Plato, but without any experience whatever in war and taking no part in active life, and yet extraordinarily devoted to the pursuit of money. This Theodatus had gained possession of most of the lands in Tuscany, and he was eager by violent methods to wrest the remainder from their owners. For to have a neighbour seemed to Theodatus a kind of misfortune. Now Amalasuntha was exerting herself to curb this desire of his, and consequently he was always vexed with her and resentful. He formed the plan, therefore, of handing over Tuscany to the Emperor Justinian, in order that, upon receiving from him a great sum of money and the senatorial dignity, he might pass the rest of his life in Byzantium. After Theodatus had formed this plan, there came from Byzantium to the chief priest of Rome two envoys, Hypatius, the priest of Ephesus, and Demetrius, from Philippi in Macedonia, to confer about a tenet of faith, which is a subject of disagreement and controversy among the Christians. As for the points in dispute, although I know them well, I shall by no means make mention of them; for I consider it a sort of insane folly to investigate the nature of God, enquiring of what sort it is. For man cannot, I think, apprehend even human affairs with accuracy, much less those things which pertain to the nature of God. As for me, therefore, I shall maintain a discreet silence concerning these matters, with the sole object that old and venerable beliefs may not be discredited. For I, for my part, will say nothing whatever about God save that He is altogether good and has all things in His power. But let each one say whatever he thinks he knows about these matters, both priest and layman. As for Theodatus, he met these envoys secretly and directed them to report to the Emperor Justinian what he had planned, explaining what has just been set forth by me. But at this juncture Atalaric, having plunged into a drunken revel which passed all bounds, was seized with a wasting disease. Wherefore Amalasuntha was in great perplexity; for, on the one hand, she had no confidence in the loyalty of her son, now that he had gone so far in his depravity, and, on the other, she thought that if Atalaric also should be removed from among men, her life would not be safe thereafter, since she had given offence to the most notable of the Goths. For this reason she was desirous of handing over the power of the Goths and Italians to the Emperor Justinian, in order that she herself might be saved. And it happened that Alexander, a man of the senate, together with Demetrius and Hypatius, had come to Ravenna. For when the emperor had heard that Amalasuntha's boat was anchored in the harbour of Epidamnus, but that she herself was still tarrying, although much time had passed, he had sent Alexander to investigate and report to him the whole situation with regard to Amalasuntha; but it was given out that the emperor had sent Alexander as an envoy to her because he was greatly disturbed by the events at Lilybaeum which have been set forth by me in the preceding narrative,[11] and because ten Huns from the army in Libya had taken flight and reached Campania, and Uliaris, who was guarding Naples, had received them not at all against the will of Amalasuntha, and also because the Goths, in making war on the Gepaedes about Sirmium,[12] had treated the city of Gratiana, situated at the extremity of Illyricum, as a hostile town. So by way of protesting to Amalasuntha with regard to these things, he wrote a letter and sent Alexander. And when Alexander arrived in Rome, he left there the priests busied with the matters for which they had come, and he himself, journeying on to Ravenna and coming before Amalasuntha, reported the emperor's message secretly, and openly delivered the letter to her. And the purport of the writing was as follows: "The fortress of Lilybaeum, which is ours, you have taken by force and are now holding, and barbarians, slaves of mine who have run away, you have received and have not even yet decided to restore them to me, and besides all this you have treated outrageously my city of Gratiana, though it belongs to you in no way whatever. Wherefore it is time for you to consider what the end of these things will some day be." And when this letter had been delivered to her and she had read it, she replied in the following words: "One may reasonably expect an emperor who is great and lays claim to virtue to assist an orphan child who does not in the least comprehend what is being done, rather than for no cause at all to quarrel with him. For unless a struggle be waged on even terms, even the victory it gains brings no honour. But thou dost threaten Atalaric on account of Lilybaeum, and ten runaways, and a mistake, made by soldiers in going against their enemies, which through some misapprehension chanced to affect a friendly city. Nay! do not thus; do not thou thus, O Emperor, but call to mind that when them wast making war upon the Vandals, we not only refrained from hindering thee, but quite zealously even gave thee free passage against the enemy and provided a market in which to buy the indispensable supplies,[13] furnishing especially the multitude of horses to which thy final mastery over the enemy was chiefly due. And yet it is not merely the man who offers an alliance of arms to his neighbours that would in justice be called their ally and friend, but also the man who actually is found assisting another in war in regard to his every need. And consider that at that time thy fleet had no other place at which to put in from the sea except Sicily, and that without the supplies bought there it could not go on to Libya. Therefore thou art indebted to us for the chief cause of thy victory; for the one who provides a solution for a difficult situation is justly entitled also to the credit for the results which flow from his help. And what could be sweeter for a man, O Emperor, than gaining the mastery over his enemies? And yet in our case the outcome is that we suffer no slight disadvantage, in that we do not, in accordance with the custom of war, enjoy our share of the spoils. And now thou art also claiming the right to despoil us of Lilybaeum in Sicily, which has belonged to the Goths from ancient times, a lone rock, O Emperor, worth not so much as a piece of silver, which, had it happened to belong to thy kingdom from ancient times, thou mightest in equity at least have granted to Atalaric as a reward for his services, since he lent thee assistance in the times of thy most pressing necessity." Such was the message which Amalasuntha wrote openly to the emperor; but secretly she agreed to put the whole of Italy into his hands. And the envoys, returning to Byzantium, reported everything to the Emperor Justinian, Alexander telling him the course which had been decided upon by Amalasuntha, and Demetrius and Hypatius all that they had heard Theodatus say, adding that Theodatus enjoyed great power in Tuscany, where he had become owner of the most of the land and consequently would be able with no trouble at all to carry his agreement into effect. And the emperor, overjoyed at this situation, immediately sent to Italy Peter, an Illyrian by birth, but a citizen of Thessalonica, a man who was one of the trained speakers in Byzantium, a discreet and gentle person withal and fitted by nature to persuade men. FOOTNOTES: [11] Book IV. v. 11 ff. [12] Near modern Mitrowitz. [13] Cf. Book III. xiv. 5, 6. IV But while these things were going on as I have explained, Theodatus was denounced before Amalasuntha by many Tuscans, who stated that he had done violence to all the people of Tuscany and had without cause seized their estates, taking not only all private estates but especially those belonging to the royal household, which the Romans are accustomed to call "patrimonium." For this reason the woman called Theodatus to an investigation, and when, being confronted by his denouncers, he had been proved guilty without any question, she compelled him to pay back everything which he had wrongfully seized and then dismissed him. And since in this way she had given the greatest offence to the man, from that time she was on hostile terms with him, exceedingly vexed as he was by reason of his fondness for money, because he was unable to continue his unlawful and violent practices. At about this same time[I] Atalaric, being quite wasted away by the disease, came to his end, having lived eight years in office. As for Amalasuntha, since it was fated that she should fare ill, she took no account of the nature of Theodatus and of what she had recently done to him, and supposed that she would suffer no unpleasant treatment at his hands if she should do the man some rather unusual favour. She accordingly summoned him, and when he came, set out to cajole him, saying that for some time she had known well that it was to be expected that her son would soon die; for she had heard the opinion of all the physicians, who agreed in their judgment, and had herself perceived that the body of Atalaric continued to waste away. And since she saw that both Goths and Italians had an unfavourable opinion regarding Theodatus, who had now come to represent the race of Theoderic, she had conceived the desire to clear him of this evil name, in order that it might not stand in his way if he were called to the throne. But at the same time, she explained, the question of justice disturbed her, at the thought that those who claimed to have been wronged by him already should find that they had no one to whom they might report what had befallen them, but that they now had their enemy as their master. For these reasons, then, although she invited him to the throne after his name should have been cleared in this way, yet it was necessary, she said, that he should be bound by the most solemn oaths that while the title of the office should be conferred upon Theodatus, she herself should in fact hold the power no less than before. When Theodatus heard this, although he swore to all the conditions which Amalasuntha wished, he entered into the agreement with treacherous intent, remembering all that she had previously done to him. Thus Amalasuntha, being deceived by her own judgment and the oaths of Theodatus, established him in the office. And sending some Goths as envoys to Byzantium, she made this known to the Emperor Justinian. DATE: [I]Oct. 10, 534 A.D. But Theodatus, upon receiving the supreme power, began to act in all things contrary to the hopes she had entertained and to the promises he had made. And after winning the adherence of the relatives of the Goths who had been slain by her--and they were both numerous and men of very high standing among the Goths--he suddenly put to death some of the connections of Amalasuntha and imprisoned her, the envoys not having as yet reached Byzantium. Now there is a certain lake in Tuscany called Vulsina,[14] within which rises an island,[15] exceedingly small but having a strong fortress upon it. There Theodatus confined Amalasuntha and kept her under guard.[J] But fearing that by this act he had given offence to the emperor, as actually proved to be the case, he sent some men of the Roman senate, Liberius and Opilio and certain others, directing them to excuse his conduct to the emperor with all their power by assuring him that Amalasuntha had met with no harsh treatment at his hands, although she had perpetrated irreparable outrages upon him before. And he himself wrote in this sense to the emperor, and also compelled Amalasuntha, much against her will, to write the same thing. DATE: [J]Apr. 30, 535 A.D. Such was the course of these events. But Peter had already been despatched by the emperor on an embassy to Italy with instructions to meet Theodatus without the knowledge of any others, and after Theodatus had given pledges by an oath that none of their dealings should be divulged, he was then to make a secure settlement with him regarding Tuscany; and meeting Amalasuntha stealthily he was to make such an arrangement with her regarding the whole of Italy as would be to the profit of either party. But openly his mission was to negotiate with regard to Lilybaeum and the other matters which I have lately mentioned. For as yet the emperor had heard nothing about the death of Atalaric or the succession of Theodatus to the throne, or the fate which had befallen Amalasuntha. And Peter was already on his way when he met the envoys of Amalasuntha and learned, in the first place, that Theodatus had come to the throne; and a little later, upon reaching the city of Aulon,[16] which lies on the Ionian Gulf, he met there the company of Liberius and Opilio, and learned everything which had taken place, and reporting this to the emperor he remained there. And when the Emperor Justinian heard these things, he formed the purpose of throwing the Goths and Theodatus into confusion; accordingly he wrote a letter to Amalasuntha, stating that he was eager to give her every possible support, and at the same time he directed Peter by no means to conceal this message, but to make it known to Theodatus himself and to all the Goths. And when the envoys from Italy arrived in Byzantium, they all, with a single exception, reported the whole matter to the emperor, and especially Liberius; for he was a man unusually upright and honourable, and one who knew well how to shew regard for the truth; but Opilio alone declared with the greatest persistence that Theodatus had committed no offence against Amalasuntha. Now when Peter arrived in Italy, it so happened that Amalasuntha had been removed from among men. For the relatives of the Goths who had been slain by her came before Theodatus declaring that neither his life nor theirs was secure unless Amalasuntha should be put out of their way as quickly as possible. And as soon as he gave in to them, they went to the island and killed Amalasuntha,--an act which grieved exceedingly all the Italians and the Goths as well. For the woman had the strictest regard for every kind of virtue, as has been stated by me a little earlier.[17] Now Peter protested openly[18] to Theodatus and the other Goths that because this base deed had been committed by them, there would be war without truce between the emperor and themselves. But Theodatus, such was his stupid folly, while still holding the slayers of Amalasuntha in honour and favour kept trying to persuade Peter and the emperor that this unholy deed had been committed by the Goths by no means with his approval, but decidedly against his will. FOOTNOTES: [14] Modern Bolsena. [15] Marta; "now entirely uninhabited, but with a few steps cut in the rock which are said to have led to the prison of Amalasuntha."--HODGKIN. [16] Modern Avlona in Albania. [17] Chap. ii. 3. [18] See Gibbon's note (chap. xli.), amplified in Bury's edition, Vol. IV. p. 304, for additional light on the part played by Justinian and Peter in this affair. V Meanwhile it happened that Belisarius had distinguished himself by the defeat of Gelimer and the Vandals. And the emperor, upon learning what had befallen Amalasuntha, immediately entered upon the war, being in the ninth year of his reign. And he first commanded Mundus, the general of Illyricum, to go to Dalmatia, which was subject to the Goths, and make trial of Salones.[19] Now Mundus was by birth a barbarian, but exceedingly loyal to the cause of the emperor and an able warrior. Then he sent Belisarius by sea with four thousand soldiers from the regular troops and the foederati,[20] and about three thousand of the Isaurians. And the commanders were men of note: Constantinus and Bessas from the land of Thrace, and Peranius from Iberia[21] which is hard by Media, a man who was by birth a member of the royal family of the Iberians, but had before this time come as a deserter to the Romans through enmity toward the Persians; and the levies of cavalry were commanded by Valentinus, Magnus, and Innocentius, and the infantry by Herodian, Paulus, Demetrius, and Ursicinus, while the leader of the Isaurians was Ennes. And there were also two hundred Huns as allies and three hundred Moors. But the general in supreme command over all was Belisarius, and he had with him many notable men as spearmen and guards. And he was accompanied also by Photius, the son of his wife Antonina by a previous marriage; he was still a young man wearing his first beard, but possessed the greatest discretion and shewed a strength of character beyond his years. And the emperor instructed Belisarius to give out that his destination was Carthage, but as soon as they should arrive at Sicily, they were to disembark there as it obliged for some reason to do so, and make trial of the island. And if it should be possible to reduce it to subjection without any trouble, they were to take possession and not let it go again; but if they should meet with any obstacle, they were to sail with all speed to Libya, giving no one an opportunity to perceive what their intention was. And he also sent a letter to the leaders of the Franks as follows: "The Goths, having seized by violence Italy, which was ours, have not only refused absolutely to give it back, but have committed further acts of injustice against us which are unendurable and pass beyond all bounds. For this reason we have been compelled to take the field against them, and it is proper that you should join with us in waging this war, which is rendered yours as well as ours not only by the orthodox faith, which rejects the opinion of the Arians, but also by the enmity we both feel toward the Goths." Such was the emperor's letter; and making a gift of money to them, he agreed to give more as soon as they should take an active part. And they with all zeal promised to fight in alliance with him. Now Mundus and the army under his command entered Dalmatia, and engaging with the Goths who encountered them there, defeated them in the battle and took possession of Salones. As for Belisarius, he put in at Sicily and took Catana. And making that place his base of operations, he took over Syracuse and the other cities by surrender without any trouble; except, indeed, that the Goths who were keeping guard in Panormus,[22] having confidence in the fortifications of the place, which was a strong one, were quite unwilling to yield to Belisarius and ordered him to lead his army away from there with all speed. But Belisarius, considering that it was impossible to capture the place from the landward side, ordered the fleet to sail into the harbour, which extended right up to the wall. For it was outside the circuit-wall and entirely without defenders. Now when the ships had anchored there, it was seen that the masts were higher than the parapet. Straightway, therefore, he filled all the small boats of the ships with bowmen and hoisted them to the tops of the masts. And when from these boats the enemy were shot at from above, they fell into such an irresistible fear that they immediately delivered Panormus to Belisarius by surrender. As a result of this the emperor held all Sicily subject and tributary to himself. And at that time it so happened that there fell to Belisarius a piece of good fortune beyond the power of words to describe. For, having received the dignity of the consulship because of his victory over the Vandals, while he was still holding this honour, and after he had won the whole of Sicily, on the last day of his consulship,[K] he marched into Syracuse, loudly applauded by the army and by the Sicilians and throwing golden coins to all. This coincidence, however, was not intentionally arranged by him, but it was a happy chance which befell the man, that after having recovered the whole of the island for the Romans he marched into Syracuse on that particular day; and so it was not in the senate house in Byzantium, as was customary, but there that he laid down the office of the consuls and so became an ex-consul. Thus, then, did good fortune attend Belisarius. DATE: [K]Dec. 31, 535 A.D. FOOTNOTES: [19] Or Salona, near modern Spalato. [20] Auxiliaries; see Book III. xi. 3, 4, and note. [21] Corresponding roughly to modern Georgia, just south of the Caucasus. [22] Modern Palermo. VI And when Peter learned of the conquest of Sicily, he was still more insistent in his efforts to frighten Theodatus and would not let him go. But he, turning coward and reduced to speechlessness no less than if he himself had become a captive with Gelimer,[23] entered into negotiations with Peter without the knowledge of any others, and between them they formed an agreement, providing that Theodatus should retire from all Sicily in favour of the Emperor Justinian, and should send him also a golden crown every year weighing three hundred litrae,[24] and Gothic warriors to the number of three thousand whenever he should wish; and that Theodatus himself should have no authority to kill any priest or senator, or to confiscate his property for the public treasury except by the decision of the emperor; and that if Theodatus wished to advance any of his subjects to the patrician or some other senatorial rank this honour should not be bestowed by him, but he should ask the emperor to bestow it; and that the Roman populace, in acclaiming their sovereign, should always shout the name of the emperor first, and afterward that of Theodatus, both in the theatres and in the hippodromes and wherever else it should be necessary for such a thing to be done; furthermore, that no statue of bronze nor of any other material should ever be set up to Theodatus alone, but statues must always be made for both, and they must stand thus: on the right that of the emperor, and on the other side that of Theodatus. And after Theodatus had written in confirmation of this agreement he dismissed the ambassador. But, a little later, terror laid hold upon the man's soul and brought him into fears which knew no bound and tortured his mind, filling him with dread at the name of war, and reminding him that if the agreement drawn up by Peter and himself did not please the emperor at all, war would straightway come upon him. Once more, therefore, he summoned Peter, who had already reached Albani,[25] for a secret conference, and enquired of the man whether he thought that the agreement would be pleasing to the emperor. And he replied that he supposed it would. "But if," said Theodatus, "these things do not please the man at all, what will happen then?" And Peter replied "After that you will have to wage war, most noble Sir." "But what is this," he said; "is it just, my dear ambassador?" And Peter, immediately taking him up, said "And how is it not just, my good Sir, that the pursuits appropriate to each man's nature should be preserved?" "What, pray, may this mean?" asked Theodatus. "It means," was the reply, "that your great interest is to philosophize, while Justinian's is to be a worthy emperor of the Romans. And there is this difference, that for one who has practised philosophy it would never be seemly to bring about the death of men, especially in such great numbers, and it should be added that this view accords with the teachings of Plato, which you have evidently espoused, and hence it is unholy for you not to be free from all bloodshed; but for him it is not at all inappropriate to seek to acquire a land which has belonged from of old to the realm which is his own." Thereupon Theodatus, being convinced by this advice, agreed to retire from the kingship in favour of the Emperor Justinian, and both he and his wife took an oath to this effect. He then bound Peter by oaths that he would not divulge this agreement until he should see that the emperor would not accept the former convention. And he sent with him Rusticus, a priest who was especially devoted to him and a Roman citizen, to negotiate on the basis of this agreement. And he also entrusted a letter to these men. So Peter and Rusticus, upon reaching Byzantium, reported the first decision to the emperor, just as Theodatus had directed them to do. But when the emperor was quite unwilling to accept the proposal, they revealed the plan which had been committed to writing afterwards. This was to the following effect: "I am no stranger to royal courts, but it was my fortune to have been born in the house of my uncle while he was king and to have been reared in a manner worthy of my race; and yet I have had little experience of wars and of the turmoils which wars entail. For since from my earliest years I have been passionately addicted to scholarly disputations and have always devoted my time to this sort of thing, I have consequently been up to the present time very far removed from the confusion of battles. Therefore it is utterly absurd that I should aspire to the honours which royalty confers and thus lead a life fraught with danger, when it is possible for me to avoid them both. For neither one of these is a pleasure to me; the first, because it is liable to satiety, for it is a surfeit of all sweet things, and the second, because lack of familiarity with such a life throws one into confusion. But as for me, if estates should be provided me which yielded an annual income of no less than twelve centenaria,[26] I should regard the kingdom as of less account than them, and I shall hand over to thee forthwith the power of the Goths and Italians. For I should find more pleasure in being a farmer free from all cares than in passing my life amid a king's anxieties, attended as they are by danger after danger. Pray send a man as quickly as possible into whose hands I may fittingly deliver Italy and the affairs of the kingdom." Such was the purport of the letter of Theodatus. And the emperor, being exceedingly pleased, replied as follows: "From of old have I heard by report that you were a man of discretion, but now, taught by experience, I know it by the decision you have reached not to await the issue of the war. For certain men who in the past have followed such a course have been completely undone. And you will never repent having made us friends instead of enemies. But you will not only have this that you ask at our hands, but you will also have the distinction of being enrolled in the highest honours of the Romans. Now for the present I have sent Athanasius and Peter, so that each party may have surety by some agreement. And almost immediately Belisarius also will visit you to complete all the arrangements which have been agreed upon between us." After writing this the emperor sent Athanasius, the brother of Alexander, who had previously gone on an embassy to Atalaric, as has been said,[27] and for the second time Peter the orator, whom I have mentioned above,[28] enjoining upon them to assign to Theodatus the estates of the royal household, which they call "patrimonium"; and not until after they had drawn up a written document and had secured oaths to fortify the agreement were they to summon Belisarius from Sicily, in order that he might take over the palace and all Italy and hold them under guard. And he wrote to Belisarius that as soon as they should summon him he should go thither with all speed. FOOTNOTES: [23] The captivity of Gelimer is described in Book IV. vii. 12-17; ix. 11-14. [24] At present values "worth about £12,000."--HODGKIN. [25] Modern Albano; on the Appian Way. Cf. Book VI. iv. 8. [26] See Book I. xxii. 4; III. vi. 2, note. [27] Chap. iii. 13. [28] Chap. iii. 30, iv. 17 ff. VII But meantime, while the emperor was engaged in these negotiations and these envoys were travelling to Italy, the Goths, under command of Asinarius and Gripas and some others, had come with a great army into Dalmatia. And when they had reached the neighbourhood of Salones, Mauricius, the son of Mundus, who was not marching out for battle but, with a few men, was on a scouting expedition, encountered them. A violent engagement ensued in which the Goths lost their foremost and noblest men, but the Romans almost their whole company, including their general Mauricius. And when Mundus heard of this, being overcome with grief at the misfortune and by this time dominated by a mighty fury, he went against the enemy without the least delay and regardless of order. The battle which took place was stubbornly contested, and the result was a Cadmean victory[29] for the Romans. For although the most of the enemy fell there and their rout had been decisive, Mundus, who went on killing and following up the enemy wherever he chanced to find them and was quite unable to restrain his mind because of the misfortune of his son, was wounded by some fugitive or other and fell. Thereupon the pursuit ended and the two armies separated. And at that time the Romans recalled the verse of the Sibyl, which had been pronounced in earlier times and seemed to them a portent. For the words of the saying were that when Africa should be held, the "world" would perish together with its offspring. This, however, was not the real meaning of the oracle, but after intimating that Libya would be once more subject to the Romans, it added this statement also, that when that time came Mundus would perish together with his son. For it runs as follows: "Africa capta Mundus cum nato peribit."[30] But since "mundus" in the Latin tongue has the force of "world," they thought that the saying had reference to the world. So much, then, for this. As for Salones, it was not entered by anyone. For the Romans went back home, since they were left altogether without a commander, and the Goths, seeing that not one of their nobles was left them, fell into fear and took possession of the strongholds in the neighbourhood; for they had no confidence in the defences of Salones, and, besides, the Romans who lived there were not very well disposed towards them. When Theodatus heard this, he took no account of the envoys who by now had come to him. For he was by nature much given to distrust, and he by no means kept his mind steadfast, but the present fortune always reduced him now to a state of terror which knew no measure, and this contrary to reason and the proper understanding of the situation, and again brought him to the opposite extreme of unspeakable boldness. And so at that time, when he heard of the death of Mundus and Mauricius, he was lifted up exceedingly and in a manner altogether unjustified by what had happened, and he saw fit to taunt the envoys when they at length appeared before him. And when Peter on one occasion remonstrated with him because he had transgressed his agreement with the emperor, Theodatus called both of them publicly and spoke as follows: "The position of envoys is a proud one and in general has come to be held in honour among all men; but envoys preserve for themselves these their prerogatives only so long as they guard the dignity of their embassy by the propriety of their own conduct. For men have sanctioned as just the killing of an envoy whenever he is either found to have insulted a sovereign or has had knowledge of a woman who is the wife of another." Such were the words with which Theodatus inveighed against Peter, not because he had approached a woman, but, apparently, in order to make good his claim that there were charges which might lead to the death of an ambassador. But the envoys replied as follows: "The facts are not, O Ruler of the Goths, as thou hast stated them, nor canst thou, under cover of flimsy pretexts, wantonly perpetrate unholy deeds upon men who are envoys. For it is not possible for an ambassador, even if he wishes it, to become an adulterer, since it is not easy for him even to partake of water except by the will of those who guard him. And as for the proposals which he has received from the lips of him who has sent him and then delivers, he himself cannot reasonably incur the blame which arises from them, in case they be not good, but he who has given the command would justly bear this charge, while the sole responsibility of the ambassador is to have discharged his mission. We, therefore, shall say all that we were instructed by the emperor to say when we were sent, and do thou hear us quietly; for if thou art stirred to excitement, all thou canst do will be to wrong men who are ambassadors. It is time, therefore, for thee of thine own free will to perform all that thou didst promise the emperor. This, indeed, is the purpose for which we have come. And the letter which he wrote to thee thou hast already received, but as for the writing which he sent to the foremost of the Goths, to no others shall we give it than to them." When the leading men of the barbarians, who were present, heard this speech of the envoys, they bade them give to Theodatus what had been written to them. And it ran as follows: "It has been the object of our care to receive you back into our state, whereat you may well be pleased. For you will come to us, not in order to be made of less consequence, but that you may be more honoured. And, besides, we are not bidding the Goths enter into strange or alien customs, but into those of a people with whom you were once familiar, though you have by chance been separated from them for a season. For these reasons Athanasius and Peter have been sent to you, and you ought to assist them in all things." Such was the purport of this letter. But after Theodatus had read everything, he not only decided not to perform in deed the promises he had made to the emperor, but also put the envoys under a strict guard. But when the Emperor Justinian heard these things and what had taken place in Dalmatia, he sent Constantianus, who commanded the royal grooms, into Illyricum, bidding him gather an army from there and make an attempt on Salones, in whatever manner he might be able; and he commanded Belisarius to enter Italy with all speed and to treat the Goths as enemies. So Constantianus came to Epidamnus and spent some time there gathering an army. But in the meantime the Goths, under the leadership of Gripas, came with another army into Dalmatia and took possession of Salones; and Constantianus, when all his preparations were as complete as possible, departed from Epidamnus with his whole force and cast anchor at Epidaurus[31] which is on the right as one sails into the Ionian Gulf. Now it so happened that some men were there whom Gripas had sent out as spies. And when they took note of the ships and the army of Constantianus it seemed to them that both the sea and the whole land were full of soldiers, and returning to Gripas they declared that Constantianus was bringing against them an army of men numbering many tens of thousands. And he, being plunged into great fear, thought it inexpedient to meet their attack, and at the same time he was quite unwilling to be besieged by the emperor's army, since it so completely commanded the sea; but he was disturbed most of all by the fortifications of Salones (since the greater part of them had already fallen down), and by the exceedingly suspicious attitude on the part of the inhabitants of the place toward the Goths. And for this reason he departed thence with his whole army as quickly as possible and made camp in the plain which is between Salones and the city of Scardon.[32] And Constantianus, sailing with all his ships from Epidaurus, put in at Lysina,[33] which is an island in the gulf. Thence he sent forward some of his men, in order that they might make enquiry concerning the plans of Gripas and report them to him. Then, after learning from them the whole situation, he sailed straight for Salones with all speed. And when he had put in at a place close to the city, he disembarked his army on the mainland and himself remained quiet there; but he selected five hundred from the army, and setting over them as commander Siphilas, one of his own bodyguards, he commanded them to seize the narrow pass[34] which, as he had been informed, was in the outskirts of the city. And this Siphilas did. And Constantianus and his whole land army entered Salones on the following day, and the fleet anchored close by. Then Constantianus proceeded to look after the fortifications of the city, building up in haste all such parts of them as had fallen down; and Gripas, with the Gothic army, on the seventh day after the Romans had taken possession of Salones, departed from there and betook themselves to Ravenna; and thus Constantianus gained possession of all Dalmatia and Liburnia, bringing over to his side all the Goths who were settled there. Such were the events in Dalmatia. And the winter drew to a close, and thus ended the first year of this war, the history of which Procopius has written. FOOTNOTES: [29] Proverbial for a victory in which the victor is slain; probably from the story of the Theban, or "Cadmean," heroes Eteocles and Polynices. [30] See Bury's edition of Gibbon, Vol. IV. App. 15, for a discussion of this oracle. [31] Modern Ragusa Vecchia. [32] Near Sebenico. [33] Modern Lesina. [34] An important approach to the city from the west. VIII And Belisarius, leaving guards in Syracuse and Panormus, crossed with the rest of the army from Messana to Rhegium (where the myths of the poets say Scylla and Charybdis were), and every day the people of that region kept coming over to him. For since their towns had from of old been without walls, they had no means at all of guarding them, and because of their hostility toward the Goths they were, as was natural, greatly dissatisfied with their present government. And Ebrimous came over to Belisarius as a deserter from the Goths, together with all his followers; this man was the son-in-law of Theodatus, being married to Theodenanthe, his daughter. And he was straightway sent to the emperor and received many gifts of honour and in particular attained the patrician dignity. And the army of Belisarius marched from Rhegium through Bruttium and Lucania, and the fleet of ships accompanied it, sailing close to the mainland. But when they reached Campania, they came upon a city on the sea, Naples by name, which was strong not only because of the nature of its site, but also because it contained a numerous garrison of Goths. And Belisarius commanded the ships to anchor in the harbour, which was beyond the range of missiles, while he himself made his camp near the city. He then first took possession by surrender of the fort which is in the suburb, and afterwards permitted the inhabitants of the city at their own request to send some of their notables into his camp, in order that they might tell what their wish was and, after receiving his reply, report to the populace. Straightway, therefore, the Neapolitans sent Stephanus. And he, upon coming before Belisarius, spoke as follows: "You are not acting justly, O general, in taking the field against men who are Romans and have done no wrong, who inhabit but a small city and have over us a guard of barbarians as masters, so that it does not even lie in our power, if we desire to do so, to oppose them. But it so happens that even these guards had to leave their wives and children, and their most precious possessions in the hands of Theodatus before they came to keep guard over us. Therefore, if they treat with you at all, they will plainly be betraying, not the city, but themselves. And if one must speak the truth with no concealment, you have not counselled to your advantage, either, in coming against us. For if you capture Rome, Naples will be subject to you without any further trouble, whereas if you are repulsed from there, it is probable that you will not be able to hold even this city securely. Consequently the time you spend on this siege will be spent to no purpose." So spoke Stephanus. And Belisarius replied as follows: "Whether we have acted wisely or foolishly in coming here is not a question which we propose to submit to the Neapolitans. But we desire that you first weigh carefully such matters as are appropriate to your deliberations and then act solely in accordance with your own interests. Receive into your city, therefore, the emperor's army, which has come to secure your freedom and that of the other Italians, and do not choose the course which will bring upon you the most grievous misfortunes. For those who, in order to rid themselves of slavery or any other shameful thing, go into war, such men, if they fare well in the struggle, have double good fortune, because along with their victory they have also acquired freedom from their troubles, and if defeated they gain some consolation for themselves, in that, they have not of their own free will chosen to follow the worse fortune. But as for those who have the opportunity to be free without fighting, but yet enter into a struggle in order to make their condition of slavery permanent, such men, even if it so happens that they conquer, have failed in the most vital point, and if in the battle they fare less happily than they wished, they will have, along with their general ill-fortune, also the calamity of defeat. As for the Neapolitans, then, let these words suffice. But as for these Goths who are present, we give them the choice, either to array themselves hereafter on our side under the great emperor, or to go to their homes altogether immune from harm. Because, if both you and they, disregarding all these considerations, dare to raise arms against us, it will be necessary for us also, if God so wills, to treat whomever we meet as an enemy. If, however, it is the will of the Neapolitans to choose the cause of the emperor and thus to be rid of so cruel a slavery, I take it upon myself, giving you pledges, to promise that you will receive at our hands those benefits which the Sicilians lately hoped for, and with regard to which they were unable to say that we had sworn falsely." Such was the message which Belisarius bade Stephanus take back to the people. But privately he promised him large rewards if he should inspire the Neapolitans with good-will toward the emperor. And Stephanus, upon coming into the city, reported the words of Belisarius and expressed his own opinion that it was inexpedient to fight against the emperor. And he was assisted in his efforts by Antiochus, a man of Syria, but long resident in Naples for the purpose of carrying on a shipping business, who had a great reputation there for wisdom and justice. But there were two men, Pastor and Asclepiodotus, trained speakers and very notable men among the Neapolitans, who were exceedingly friendly toward the Goths, and quite unwilling to have any change made in the present state of affairs. These two men, planning how they might block the negotiations, induced the multitude to demand many serious concessions, and to try to force Belisarius to promise on oath that they should forthwith obtain what they asked for. And after writing down in a document such demands as nobody would have supposed that Belisarius would accept, they gave it to Stephanus. And he, returning to the emperor's army, shewed the writing to the general, and enquired of him whether he was willing to carry out all the proposals which the Neapolitans made and to take an oath concerning them. And Belisarius promised that they should all be fulfilled for them and so sent him back. Now when the Neapolitans heard this, they were in favour of accepting the general's assurances at once and began to urge that the emperor's army be received into the city with all speed. For he declared that nothing unpleasant would befall them, if the case of the Sicilians was sufficient evidence for anyone to judge by, since, as he pointed out, it had only recently been their lot, after they had exchanged their barbarian tyrants for the sovereignty of Justinian, to be, not only free men, but also immune from all difficulties. And swayed by great excitement they were about to go to the gates with the purpose of throwing them open. And though the Goths were not pleased with what they were doing, still, since they were unable to prevent it, they stood out of the way. But Pastor and Asclepiodotus called together the people and all the Goths in one place, and spoke as follows: "It is not at all unnatural that the populace of a city should abandon themselves and their own safety, especially if, without consulting any of their notables, they make an independent decision regarding their all. But it is necessary for us, who are on the very point of perishing together with you, to offer as a last contribution to the fatherland this advice. We see, then, fellow citizens, that you are intent upon betraying both yourselves and the city to Belisarius, who promises to confer many benefits upon you and to swear the most solemn oaths in confirmation of his promises. Now if he is able to promise you this also, that to him will come the victory in the war, no one could deny that the course you are taking is to your advantage. For it is great folly not to gratify every whim of him who is to become master. But if this outcome lies in uncertainty, and no man in the world is competent to guarantee the decision of fortune, consider what sort of misfortunes your haste is seeking to attain. For if the Goths overcome their adversaries in the war, they will punish you as enemies and as having done them the foulest wrong. For you are resorting to this act of treason, not under constraint of necessity, but out of deliberate cowardice. So that even to Belisarius, if he wins the victory over his enemies, we shall perhaps appear faithless and betrayers of our rulers, and having proved ourselves deserters, we shall in all probability have a guard set over us permanently by the emperor. For though he who has found a traitor is pleased at the moment of victory by the service rendered, yet afterwards, moved by suspicion based upon the traitor's past, he hates and fears his benefactor, since he himself has in his own possession the evidences of the other's faithlessness. If, however, we shew ourselves faithful to the Goths at the present time, manfully submitting to the danger, they will give us great rewards in case they win the mastery over the enemy, and Belisarius, if it should so happen that he is the victor, will be prone to forgive. For loyalty which fails is punished by no man unless he be lacking in understanding. But what has happened to you that you are in terror of being besieged by the enemy, you who have no lack of provisions, have not been deprived by blockade of any of the necessities of life, and hence may sit at home, confident in the fortifications and in your garrison here?[35] And in our opinion even Belisarius would not have consented to this agreement with us if he had any hope of capturing the city by force. And yet if what he desired were that which is just and that which will be to our advantage, he ought not to be trying to frighten the Neapolitans or to establish his own power by means of an act of injustice on our part toward the Goths; but he should do battle with Theodatus and the Goths, so that without danger to us or treason on our part the city might come into the power of the victors." When they had finished speaking, Pastor and Asclepiodotus brought forward the Jews, who promised that the city should be in want of none of the necessities, and the Goths on their part promised that they would guard the circuit-wall safely. And the Neapolitans, moved by these arguments, bade Belisarius depart thence with all speed. He, however, began the siege. And he made many attempts upon the circuit-wall, but was always repulsed, losing many of his soldiers, and especially those who laid some claim to valour. For the wall of Naples was inaccessible, on one side by reason of the sea, and on the other because of some difficult country, and those who planned to attack it could gain entrance at no point, not only because of its general situation, but also because the ground sloped steeply. However, Belisarius cut the aqueduct which brought water into the city; but he did not in this way seriously disturb the Neapolitans, since there were wells inside the circuit-wall which sufficed for their needs and kept them from feeling too keenly the loss of the aqueduct. FOOTNOTE: [35] _i.e._ the Goths; cf. § 5 above. IX So the besieged, without the knowledge of the enemy, sent to Theodatus in Rome begging him to come to their help with all speed. But Theodatus was not making the least preparation for war, being by nature unmanly, as has been said before.[36] And they say that something else happened to him, which terrified him exceedingly and reduced him to still greater anxiety. I, for my part, do not credit this report, but even so it shall be told. Theodatus even before this time had been prone to make enquiries of those who professed to foretell the future, and on the present occasion he was at a loss what to do in the situation which confronted him--a state which more than anything else is accustomed to drive men to seek prophecies; so he enquired of one of the Hebrews, who had a great reputation for prophecy, what sort of an outcome the present war would have. The Hebrew commanded him to confine three groups of ten swine each in three huts, and after giving them respectively the names of Goths, Romans, and the soldiers of the emperor, to wait quietly for a certain number of days. And Theodatus did as he was told. And when the appointed day had come, they both went into the huts and looked at the swine; and they found that of those which had been given the name of Goths all save two were dead, whereas all except a few were living of those which had received the name of the emperor's soldiers; and as for those which had been called Romans, it so happened that, although the hair of all of them had fallen out, yet about half of them survived. When Theodatus beheld this and divined the outcome of the war, a great fear, they say, came upon him, since he knew well that it would certainly be the fate of the Romans to die to half their number and be deprived of their possessions, but that the Goths would be defeated and their race reduced to a few, and that to the emperor would come, with the loss of but a few of his soldiers, the victory in the war. And for this reason, they say, Theodatus felt no impulse to enter into a struggle with Belisarius. As for this story, then, let each one express his views according to the belief or disbelief which he feels regarding it. But Belisarius, as he besieged the Neapolitans both by land and by sea, was beginning to be vexed. For he was coming to think that they would never yield to him, and, furthermore, he could not hope that the city would be captured, since he was finding that the difficulty of its position was proving to be a very serious obstacle. And the loss of the time which was being spent there distressed him, for he was making his calculations so as to avoid being compelled to go against Theodatus and Rome in the winter season. Indeed he had already even given orders to the army to pack up, his intention being to depart from there as quickly as possible. But while he was in the greatest perplexity, it came to pass that he met with the following good fortune. One of the Isaurians was seized with the desire to observe the construction of the aqueduct, and to discover in what manner it provided the supply of water to the city. So he entered it at a place far distant from the city, where Belisarius had broken it open, and proceeded to walk along it, finding no difficulty, since the water had stopped running because the aqueduct had been broken open. But when he reached a point near the circuit-wall, he came upon a large rock, not placed there by the hand of man, but a part of the natural formation of the place. And those who had built the aqueduct many years before, after they had attached the masonry to this rock, proceeded to make a tunnel from that point on, not sufficiently large, however, for a man to pass through, but large enough to furnish a passage for the water. And for this reason it came about that the channel of the aqueduct was not everywhere of the same breadth, but one was confronted by a narrow place at that rock, impassable for a man, especially if he wore armour or carried a shield. And when the Isaurian observed this, it seemed to him not impossible for the army to penetrate into the city, if they should make the tunnel at that point broader by a little. But since he himself was a humble person, and never had come into conversation with any of the commanders, he brought the matter before Paucaris, an Isaurian, who had distinguished himself among the guards of Belisarius. So Paucaris immediately reported the whole matter to the general. And Belisarius, being pleased by the report, took new courage, and by promising to reward the man with great sums of money induced him to attempt the undertaking, and commanded him to associate with himself some of the Isaurians and cut out a passage in the rock as quickly as possible, taking care to allow no one to become aware of what they were doing. Paucaris then selected some Isaurians who were thoroughly suitable for the work, and secretly got inside the aqueduct with them. And coming to the place where the rock caused the passage to be narrow, they began their work, not cutting the rock with picks or mattocks, lest by their blows they should reveal to the enemy what they were doing, but scraping it very persistently with sharp instruments of iron. And in a short time the work was done, so that a man wearing a corselet and carrying a shield was able to go through at that point. But when all his arrangements were at length in complete readiness, the thought occurred to Belisarius that if he should by act of war make his entry into Naples with the army, the result would be that lives would be lost and that all the other things would happen which usually attend the capture of a city by an enemy. And straightway summoning Stephanus, he spoke as follows: "Many times have I witnessed the capture of cities and I am well acquainted with what takes place at such a time. For they slay all the men of every age, and as for the women, though they beg to die, they are not granted the boon of death, but are carried off for outrage and are made to suffer treatment that is abominable and most pitiable. And the children, who are thus deprived of their proper maintenance and education, are forced to be slaves, and that, too, of the men who are the most odious of all--those on whose hands they see the blood of their fathers. And this is not all, my dear Stephanus, for I make no mention of the conflagration which destroys all the property and blots out the beauty of the city. When I see, as in the mirror of the cities which have been captured in times past, this city of Naples falling victim to such a fate, I am moved to pity both it and you its inhabitants. For such means have now been perfected by me against the city that its capture is inevitable. But I pray that an ancient city, which has for ages been inhabited by both Christians and Romans, may not meet with such a fortune, especially at my hands as commander of Roman troops, not least because in my army are a multitude of barbarians, who have lost brothers or relatives before the wall of this town; for the fury of these men I should be unable to control, if they should capture the city by act of war. While, therefore, it is still within your power to choose and to put into effect that which will be to your advantage, adopt the better course and escape misfortune; for when it falls upon you, as it probably will, you will not justly blame fortune but your own judgment." With these words Belisarius dismissed Stephanus. And he went before the people of Naples weeping and reporting with bitter lamentations all that he had heard Belisarius say. But they, since it was not fated that the Neapolitans should become subjects of the emperor without chastisement, neither became afraid nor did they decide to yield to Belisarius. FOOTNOTE: [36] Chap. iii. 1. X Then at length Belisarius, on his part, made his preparations to enter the city as follows. Selecting at nightfall about four hundred men and appointing as commander over them Magnus, who led a detachment of cavalry, and Ennes, the leader of the Isaurians, he commanded them all to put on their corselets, take in hand their shields and swords, and remain quiet until he himself should give the signal. And he summoned Bessas[37] and gave him orders to stay with him, for he wished to consult with him concerning a certain matter pertaining to the army. And when it was well on in the night, he explained to Magnus and Ennes the task before them, pointed out the place where he had previously broken open the aqueduct, and ordered them to lead the four hundred men into the city, taking lights with them And he sent with them two men skilled in the use of the trumpet, so that as soon as they should get inside the circuit-wall, they might be able both to throw the city into confusion and to notify their own men what they were doing. And he himself was holding in readiness a very great number of ladders which had been constructed previously. So these men entered the aqueduct and were proceeding toward the city, while he with Bessas and Photius[38] remained at his post and with their help was attending to all details. And he also sent to the camp, commanding the men to remain awake and to keep their arms in their hands. At the same time he kept near him a large force--men whom he considered most courageous. Now of the men who were on their way to the city above half became terrified at the danger and turned back. And since Magnus could not persuade them to follow him, although he urged them again and again, he returned with them to the general. And Belisarius, after reviling these men, selected two hundred of the troops at hand, and ordered them to go with Magnus. And Photius also, wishing to lead them, leaped into the channel of the aqueduct, but Belisarius prevented him. Then those who were fleeing from the danger, put to shame by the railings of the general and of Photius, took heart to face it once more and followed with the others. And Belisarius, fearing lest their operations should be perceived by some of the enemy, who were maintaining a guard on the tower which happened to be nearest to the aqueduct, went to that place and commanded Bessas to carry on a conversation in the Gothic tongue with the barbarians there, his purpose being to prevent any clanging of the weapons from being audible to them. And so Bessas shouted to them in a loud voice, urging the Goths to yield to Belisarius and promising that they should have many rewards. But they jeered at him, indulging in many insults directed at both Belisarius and the emperor. Belisarius and Bessas, then, were thus occupied. Now the aqueduct of Naples is not only covered until it reaches the wall, but remains covered as it extends to a great distance inside the city, being carried on a high arch of baked brick. Consequently, when the men under the command of Magnus and Ennes had got inside the fortifications, they were one and all unable even to conjecture where in the world they were. Furthermore, they could not leave the aqueduct at any point until the foremost of them came to a place where the aqueduct chanced to be without a roof and where stood a building which had entirely fallen into neglect. Inside this building a certain woman had her dwelling, living alone with utter poverty as her only companion; and an olive tree had grown out over the aqueduct. So when these men saw the sky and perceived that they were in the midst of the city, they began to plan how they might get out, but they had no means of leaving the aqueduct either with or without their arms. For the structure happened to be very high at that point and, besides, offered no means of climbing to the top. But as the soldiers were in a state of great perplexity and were beginning to crowd each other greatly as they collected there (for already, as the men in the rear kept coming up, a great throng was beginning to gather), the thought occurred to one of them to make trial of the ascent. He immediately therefore laid down his arms, and forcing his way up with hands and feet, reached the woman's house. And seeing her there, he threatened to kill her unless she should remain silent. And she was terror-stricken and remained speechless. He then fastened to the trunk of the olive tree a strong strap, and threw the other end of it into the aqueduct. So the soldiers, laying hold of it one at a time, managed with difficulty to make the ascent. And after all had come up and a fourth part of the night still remained, they proceeded toward the wall; and they slew the garrison of two of the towers before the men in them had an inkling of the trouble. These towers were on the northern portion of the circuit-wall, where Belisarius was stationed with Bessas and Photius, anxiously awaiting the progress of events. So while the trumpeters were summoning the army to the wall, Belisarius was placing the ladders against the fortifications and commanding the soldiers to mount them. But it so happened that not one of the ladders reached as far as the parapet. For since the workmen had not made them in sight of the wall, they had not been able to arrive at the proper measure. For this reason they bound two together, and it was only by using both of them for the ascent that the soldiers got above the level of the parapet. Such was the progress of these events where Belisarius was engaged. But on the side of the circuit-wall which faces the sea, where the forces on guard were not barbarians, but Jews, the soldiers were unable either to use the ladders or to scale the wall. For the Jews had already given offence to their enemy by having opposed their efforts to capture the city without a fight, and for this reason they had no hope if they should fall into their hands; so they kept fighting stubbornly, although they could see that the city had already been captured, and held out beyond all expectation against the assaults of their opponents. But when day came and some of those who had mounted the wall marched against them, then at last they also, now that they were being shot at from behind, took to flight, and Naples was captured by storm. By this time the gates were thrown open and the whole Roman army came in. [L] But those who were stationed about the gates which fronted the east, since, as it happened, they had no ladders at hand, set fire to these gates, which were altogether unguarded; for that part of the wall had been deserted, the guards having taken to flight. And then a great slaughter took place; for all of them were possessed with fury, especially those who had chanced to have a brother or other relative slain in the fighting at the wall. And they kept killing all whom they encountered, sparing neither old nor young, and dashing into the houses they made slaves of the women and children and secured the valuables as plunder; and in this the Massagetae outdid all the rest, for they did not even withhold their hand from the sanctuaries, but slew many of those who had taken refuge in them, until Belisarius, visiting every part of the city, put a stop to this, and calling all together, spoke as follows: DATE: [L] 536 A.D. "Inasmuch as God has given us the victory and has permitted us to attain the greatest height of glory, by putting under our hand a city which has never been captured before, it behooves us on our part to shew ourselves not unworthy of His grace, but by our humane treatment of the vanquished, to make it plain that we have conquered these men justly. Do not, therefore, hate the Neapolitans with a boundless hatred, and do not allow your hostility toward them to continue beyond the limits of the war. For when men have been vanquished, their victors never hate them any longer. And by killing them you will not be ridding yourselves of enemies for the future, but you will be suffering a loss through the death of your subjects. Therefore, do these men no further harm, nor continue to give way wholly to anger. For it is a disgrace to prevail over the enemy and then to shew yourselves vanquished by passion. So let all the possessions of these men suffice for you as the rewards of your valour, but let their wives, together with the children, be given back to the men. And let the conquered learn by experience what kind of friends they have forfeited by reason of foolish counsel." After speaking thus, Belisarius released to the Neapolitans their women and children and the slaves, one and all, no insult having been experienced by them, and he reconciled the soldiers to the citizens. And thus it came to pass for the Neapolitans that on that day they both became captives and regained their liberty, and that they recovered the most precious of their possessions. For those of them who happened to have gold or anything else of value had previously concealed it by burying it in the earth, and in this way they succeeded in hiding from the enemy the fact that in getting back their houses they were recovering their money also. And the siege, which had lasted about twenty days, ended thus. As for the Goths who were captured in the city, not less than eight hundred in number, Belisarius put them under guard and kept them from all harm, holding them in no less honour than his own soldiers. And Pastor, who had been leading the people upon a course of folly, as has been previously[39] set forth by me, upon seeing the city captured, fell into a fit of apoplexy and died suddenly, though he had neither been ill before nor suffered any harm from anyone. But Asclepiodotus, who was engaged in this intrigue with him, came before Belisarius with those of the notables who survived. And Stephanus mocked and reviled him with these words: "See, O basest of all men, what evils you have brought to your fatherland, by selling the safety of the citizens for loyalty to the Goths. And furthermore, if things had gone well for the barbarians, you would have claimed the right to be yourself a hireling in their service and to bring to court on the charge of trying to betray the city to the Romans each one of us who have given the better counsel. But now that the emperor has captured the city, and we have been saved by the uprightness of this man, and you even so have had the hardihood recklessly to come into the presence of the general as if you had done no harm to the Neapolitans or to the emperor's army, you will meet with the punishment you deserve." Such were the words which Stephanus, who was deeply grieved by the misfortune of the city, hurled against Asclepiodotus. And Asclepiodotus replied to him as follows: "Quite unwittingly, noble Sir, you have been heaping praise upon us, when you reproach us for our loyalty to the Goths. For no one could ever be loyal to his masters when they are in danger, except it be by firm conviction. As for me, then, the victors will have in me as true a guardian of the state as they lately found in me an enemy, since he whom nature has endowed with the quality of fidelity does not change his conviction when he changes his fortune. But you, should their fortunes not continue to prosper as before, would readily listen to the overtures of their assailants. For he who has the disease of inconstancy of mind no sooner takes fright than he denies his pledge to those most dear." Such were the words of Asclepiodotus. But the populace of the Neapolitans, when they saw him returning from Belisarius, gathered in a body and began to charge him with responsibility for all that had befallen them. And they did not leave him until they had killed him and torn his body into small pieces. After that they came to the house of Pastor, seeking for the man. And when the servants insisted that Pastor was dead, they were quite unwilling to believe them until they were shown the man's body. And the Neapolitans impaled him in the outskirts of the town. Then they begged Belisarius to pardon them for what they had done while moved with just anger, and receiving his forgiveness, they dispersed. Such was the fate of the Neapolitans. FOOTNOTES: [37] Cf. chap. v. 3. [38] Cf. chap. v. 5. [39] Chap. viii. 22. XI But the Goths who were at Rome and in the country round about had even before this regarded with great amazement the inactivity of Theodatus, because, though the enemy was in his neighbourhood, he was unwilling to engage them in battle, and they felt among themselves much suspicion toward him, believing that he was betraying the cause of the Goths to the Emperor Justinian of his own free will, and cared for nothing else than that he himself might live in quiet, possessed of as much money as possible. Accordingly, when they heard that Naples had been captured, they began immediately to make all these charges against him openly and gathered at a place two hundred and eighty stades distant from Rome, which the Romans call Regata.[40] And it seemed best to them to make camp in that place; for there are extensive plains there which furnish pasture for horses. And a river also flows by the place, which the inhabitants call Decennovium[41] in the Latin tongue, because it flows past nineteen milestones, a distance which amounts to one hundred and thirteen stades, before it empties into the sea near the city of Taracina; and very near that place is Mt. Circaeum, where they say Odysseus met Circe, though the story seems to me untrustworthy, for Homer declares that the habitation of Circe was on an island. This, however, I am able to say, that this Mt. Circaeum, extending as it does far into the sea, resembles an island, so that both to those who sail close to it and to those who walk to the shore in the neighbourhood it has every appearance of being an island. And only when a man gets on it does he realize that he was deceived in his former opinion. And for this reason Homer perhaps called the place an island. But I shall return to the previous narrative. The Goths, after gathering at Regata, chose as king over them and the Italians Vittigis, a man who, though not of a conspicuous house, had previously won great renown in the battles about Sirmium, when Theoderic was carrying on the war against the Gepaedes.[42] Theodatus, therefore, upon hearing this, rushed off in flight and took the road to Ravenna. But Vittigis quickly sent Optaris, a Goth, instructing him to bring Theodatus alive or dead. Now it happened that this Optaris was hostile to Theodatus for the following cause. Optaris was wooing a certain young woman who was an heiress and also exceedingly beautiful to look upon. But Theodatus, being bribed to do so, took the woman he was wooing from him, and betrothed her to another. And so, since he was not only satisfying his own rage, but rendering a service to Vittigis as well, he pursued Theodatus with great eagerness and enthusiasm, stopping neither day nor night. And he overtook him while still on his way, laid him on his back on the ground, and slew him like a victim for sacrifice. Such was the end of Theodatus' life and of his rule, which had reached the third year.[M] DATE: [M]Dec. 536 A.D. And Vittigis, together with the Goths who were with him, marched to Rome. And when he learned what had befallen Theodatus, he was pleased and put Theodatus' son Theodegisclus under guard. But it seemed to him that the preparations of the Goths were by no means complete, and for this reason he thought it better first to go to Ravenna, and after making everything ready there in the best possible way, then at length to enter upon the war. He therefore called all the Goths together and spoke as follows: "The success of the greatest enterprises, fellow-soldiers, generally depends, not upon hasty action at critical moments, but upon careful planning. For many a time a policy of delay adopted at the opportune moment has brought more benefit than the opposite course, and haste displayed at an unseasonable time has upset for many men their hope of success. For in most cases those who are unprepared, though they fight on equal terms so far as their forces are concerned, are more easily conquered than those who, with less strength, enter the struggle with the best possible preparation. Let us not, therefore, be so lifted up by the desire to win momentary honour as to do ourselves irreparable harm; for it is better to suffer shame for a short time and by so doing gain an undying glory, than to escape insult for the moment and thereby, as would probably be the case, be left in obscurity for all after time. And yet you doubtless know as well as I that the great body of the Goths and practically our whole equipment of arms is in Gaul and Venetia and the most distant lands. Furthermore, we are carrying on against the nations of the Franks a war which is no less important than this one, and it is great folly for us to proceed to another war without first settling that one satisfactorily. For it is natural that those who become exposed to attack on two sides and do not confine their attention to a single enemy should be worsted by their opponents. But I say that we must now go straight from here to Ravenna, and after bringing the war against the Franks to an end and settling all our other affairs as well as possible, then with the whole army of the Goths we must fight it out with Belisarius. And let no one of you, I say, try to dissemble regarding this withdrawal, nor hesitate to call it flight. For the title of coward, fittingly applied, has saved many, while the reputation for bravery which some men have gained at the wrong time, has afterward led them to defeat. For it is not the names of things, but the advantage which comes from what is done, that is worth seeking after. For a man's worth is revealed by his deeds, not at their commencement, but at their end. And those do not flee before the enemy who, when they have increased their preparation, forthwith go against them, but those who are so anxious to save their own lives for ever that they deliberately stand aside. And regarding the capture of this city, let no fear come to any one of you. For if, on the one hand, the Romans are loyal to us, they will guard the city in security for the Goths, and they will not experience any hardship, for we shall return to them in a short time. And if, on the other hand, they harbour any suspicions toward us, they will harm us less by receiving the enemy into the city; for it is better to fight in the open against one's enemies. None the less I shall take care that nothing of this sort shall happen. For we shall leave behind many men and a most discreet leader, and they will be sufficient to guard Rome so effectively that not only will the situation here be favourable for us, but also that no harm may possibly come from this withdrawal of ours." Thus spoke Vittigis. And all the Goths expressed approval and prepared for the journey. After this Vittigis exhorted at length Silverius, the priest[43] of the city, and the senate and people of the Romans, reminding them of the rule of Theoderic, and he urged upon all to be loyal to the nation of the Goths, binding them by the most solemn oaths to do so; and he chose out no fewer than four thousand men, and set in command over them Leuderis, a man of mature years who enjoyed a great reputation for discretion, that they might guard Rome for the Goths. Then he set out for Ravenna with the rest of the army, keeping the most of the senators with him as hostages. And when he had reached that place, he made Matasuntha, the daughter of Amalasuntha, who was a maiden now of marriageable age, his wedded wife, much against her will, in order that he might make his rule more secure by marrying into the family of Theoderic. After this he began to gather all the Goths from every side and to organize and equip them, duly distributing arms and horses to each one; and only the Goths who were engaged in garrison duty in Gaul he was unable to summon, through fear of the Franks. These Franks were called "Germani" in ancient times. And the manner in which they first got a foothold in Gaul, and where they had lived before that, and how they became hostile to the Goths, I shall now proceed to relate. FOOTNOTES: [40] Near Terracina. [41] The name is made from _decem_ and _novem_, "nineteen,"--apparently a late formation. The "river" was in reality a canal, extending from Appii Forum to Terracina. [42] Chap. iii. 15. [43] Silverius was Pope 536-537 A.D. XII As one sails from the ocean into the Mediterranean at Gadira, the land on the left, as was stated in the preceding narrative,[44] is named Europe, while the land opposite to this is called Libya, and, farther on, Asia. Now as to the region beyond Libya[45] I am unable to speak with accuracy;[46] for it is almost wholly destitute of men, and for this reason the first source of the Nile, which they say flows from that land toward Egypt, is quite unknown. But Europe at its very beginning is exceedingly like the Peloponnesus, and fronts the sea on either side. And the land which is first toward the ocean and the west is named Spain, extending as far as the alps of the Pyrenees range. For the men of this country are accustomed to call a narrow, shut-in pass "alps." And the land from there on as far as the boundaries of Liguria is called Gaul. And in that place other alps separate the Gauls and the Ligurians. Gaul, however, is much broader than Spain, and naturally so, because Europe, beginning with a narrow peninsula, gradually widens as one advances until it attains an extraordinary breadth. And this land is bounded by water on either side, being washed on the north by the ocean, and having on the south the sea called the Tuscan Sea. And in Gaul there flow numerous rivers, among which are the Rhone and the Rhine. But the course of these two being in opposite directions, the one empties into the Tuscan Sea, while the Rhine empties into the ocean. And there are many lakes[47] in that region, and this is where the Germans lived of old, a barbarous nation, not of much consequence in the beginning, who are now called Franks. Next to these lived the Arborychi,[48] who, together with all the rest of Gaul, and, indeed, Spain also, were subjects of the Romans from of old. And beyond them toward the east were settled the Thuringian barbarians, Augustus, the first emperor, having given them this country.[49] And the Burgundians lived not far from them toward the south,[50] and the Suevi[51] also lived beyond the Thuringians, and the Alamani,[52] powerful nations. All these were settled there as independent peoples in earlier times. But as time went on, the Visigoths forced their way into the Roman empire and seized all Spain and the portion of Gaul lying beyond[53] the Rhone River and made them subject and tributary to themselves. By that time it so happened that the Arborychi had become soldiers of the Romans. And the Germans, wishing to make this people subject to themselves, since their territory adjoined their own and they had changed the government under which they had lived from of old, began to plunder their land and, being eager to make war, marched against them with their whole people. But the Arborychi proved their valour and loyalty to the Romans and shewed themselves brave men in this war, and since the Germans were not able to overcome them by force, they wished to win them over and make the two peoples kin by intermarriage. This suggestion the Arborychi received not at all unwillingly; for both, as it happened, were Christians. And in this way they were united into one people, and came to have great power. Now other Roman soldiers, also, had been stationed at the frontiers of Gaul to serve as guards. And these soldiers, having no means of returning to Rome, and at the same time being unwilling to yield to their enemy[54] who were Arians, gave themselves, together with their military standards and the land which they had long been guarding for the Romans, to the Arborychi and Germans; and they handed down to their offspring all the customs of their fathers, which were thus preserved, and this people has held them in sufficient reverence to guard them even up to my time. For even at the present day they are clearly recognized as belonging to the legions to which they were assigned when they served in ancient times, and they always carry their own standards when they enter battle, and always follow the customs of their fathers. And they preserve the dress of the Romans in every particular, even as regards their shoes. Now as long as the Roman polity remained unchanged,[55] the emperor held all Gaul as far as the Rhone River; but when Odoacer changed the government into a tyranny, [N] then, since the tyrant yielded to them, the Visigoths took possession of all Gaul as far as the alps which mark the boundary between Gaul and Liguria. [O]But after the fall of Odoacer, the Thuringians and the Visigoths began to fear the power of the Germans, which was now growing greater (for their country had become exceedingly populous and they were forcing into subjection without any concealment those who from time to time came in their way), and so they were eager to win the alliance of the Goths and Theoderic. And since Theoderic wished to attach these peoples to himself, he did not refuse to intermarry with them. Accordingly he betrothed to Alaric the younger, who was then leader of the Visigoths, his own unmarried daughter Theodichusa, and to Hermenefridus, the ruler of the Thuringians, Amalaberga, the daughter of his sister Amalafrida. As a result of this the Franks refrained from violence against these peoples through fear of Theoderic, but they began a war against the Burgundians. But later on the Franks and the Goths entered into an offensive alliance against the Burgundians, agreeing that each of the two should send an army against them; and it was further agreed that if either army should be absent when the other took the field against the nation of the Burgundians and overthrew them and gained the land which they had, then the victors should receive as a penalty from those who had not joined in the expedition a fixed sum of gold, and that only on these terms should the conquered land belong to both peoples in common. So the Germans went against the Burgundians with a great army according to the agreement between themselves and the Goths; but Theoderic was still engaged with his preparations, as he said, and purposely kept putting off the departure of the army to the following day, and waiting for what would come to pass. Finally, however, he sent the army, but commanded the generals to march in a leisurely fashion, and if they should hear that the Franks had been victorious, they were thenceforth to go quickly, but if they should learn that any adversity had befallen them, they were to proceed no farther, but remain where they were. So they proceeded to carry out the commands of Theoderic, but meanwhile the Germans joined battle alone with the Burgundians.[P] The battle was stubbornly contested and a great slaughter took place on both sides, for the struggle was very evenly matched; but finally the Franks routed their enemy and drove them to the borders of the land which they inhabited at that time, where they had many strongholds, while the Franks took possession of all the rest. And the Goths, upon hearing this, were quickly at hand. And when they were bitterly reproached by their allies, they blamed the difficulty of the country, and laying down the amount of the penalty, they divided the land with the victors according to the agreement made. And thus the foresight of Theoderic was revealed more clearly than ever, because, without losing a single one of his subjects, he had with a little gold acquired half of the land of his enemy. Thus it was that the Goths and Germans in the beginning got possession of a certain part of Gaul. DATES: [N]476 A.D. [O]493 A.D. [P]534 A.D. But later on, when the power of the Germans was growing greater, they began to think slightingly of Theoderic and the fear he inspired, and took the field against Alaric and the Visigoths. And when Alaric learned this, he summoned Theoderic as quickly as possible. And he set out to his assistance with a great army. In the meantime, the Visigoths, upon learning that the Germans were in camp near the city of Carcasiana,[56] went to meet them, and making a camp remained quiet. But since much time was being spent by them in blocking the enemy in this way, they began to be vexed, and seeing that their land was being plundered by the enemy, they became indignant. And at length they began to heap many insults upon Alaric, reviling him on account of his fear of the enemy and taunting him with the delay of his father-in-law. For they declared that they by themselves were a match for the enemy in battle and that even though unaided they would easily overcome the Germans in the war. For this reason Alaric was compelled to do battle with the enemy before the Goths had as yet arrived. And the Germans, gaining the upper hand in this engagement, killed the most of the Visigoths and their ruler Alaric. [Q] Then they took possession of the greater part of Gaul and held it; and they laid siege to Carcasiana with great enthusiasm, because they had learned that the royal treasure was there, which Alaric the elder in earlier times had taken as booty when he captured Rome.[57] Among these were also the treasures of Solomon, the king of the Hebrews, a most noteworthy sight. [R]For the most of them were adorned with emeralds; and they had been taken from Jerusalem by the Romans in ancient times.[58] Then the survivors of the Visigoths declared Giselic, an illegitimate son of Alaric, ruler over them, Amalaric, the son of Theoderic's daughter, being still a very young child. And afterwards, when Theoderic had come with the army of the Goths, the Germans became afraid and broke up the siege. So they retired from there and took possession of the part of Gaul beyond the Rhone River as far as the ocean. And Theoderic, being unable to drive them out from there, allowed them to hold this territory, but he himself recovered the rest of Gaul. Then, after Giselic had been put out of the way, he conferred the rule of the Visigoths upon his grandson Amalaric, for whom, since he was still a child, he himself acted as regent. And taking all the money which lay in the city of Carcasiana, he marched quickly back to Ravenna; furthermore, he continued to send commanders and armies into Gaul and Spain, thus holding the real power of the government himself, and by way of providing that he should hold it securely and permanently, he ordained that the rulers of those countries should bring tribute to him. And though he received this every year, in order not to give the appearance of being greedy for money he sent it as an annual gift to the army of the Goths and Visigoths. And as a result of this, the Goths and Visigoths, as time went on, ruled as they were by one man and holding the same land, betrothed their children to one another and thus joined the two races in kinship. DATES: [Q]507 A.D. [R]410 A.D. But afterwards, Theudis, a Goth, whom Theoderic had sent as commander of the army, took to wife a woman from Spain; she was not, however, of the race of the Visigoths, but belonged to the house of one of the wealthy inhabitants of that land, and not only possessed great wealth but also owned a large estate in Spain. From this estate he gathered about two thousand soldiers and surrounded himself with a force of bodyguards, and while in name he was a ruler over the Goths by the gift of Theoderic, he was in fact an out and out tyrant. And Theoderic, who was wise and experienced in the highest degree, was afraid to carry on a war against his own slave, lest the Franks meanwhile should take the field against him, as they naturally would, or the Visigoths on their part should begin a revolution against him; accordingly he did not remove Theudis from his office, but even continued to command him, whenever the army went to war, to lead it forth. However, he directed the first men of the Goths to write to Theudis that he would be acting justly and in a manner worthy of his wisdom, if he should come to Ravenna and salute Theoderic. Theudis, however, although he carried out all the commands of Theoderic and never failed to send in the annual tribute, would not consent to go to Ravenna, nor would he promise those who had written to him that he would do so. FOOTNOTES: [44] Book III. i. 7. [45] _i.e._ equatorial Africa. [46] Cf. Book IV. xiii. 29. [47] This vague statement is intended to describe the country west of the Rhine, at that time a land of forests and swamps. [48] The people whom Procopius names Arborychi must be the Armorici. If so, they occupied the coast of what is now Belgium. [49] Now south-eastern Germany. [50] Now south-eastern France. [51] Between the Germans and Burgundians. [52] In modern Bavaria. [53] _i.e._ west of the Rhone. [54] _i.e._ the Visigoths. [55] _i.e._ under a recognized imperial dynasty. [56] In Gallia Narbonensis, modern Carcassone. Procopius has been misled. The battle here described was fought in the neighbourhood of Poitiers. [57] Cf. Book III. ii. 14-24. [58] At the capture of Jerusalem by Titus in 70 A.D. The treasures here mentioned were removed from Rome in 410 A.D. The remainder of the Jewish treasure formed part of the spoil of Gizeric, the Vandal. Cf. Book IV. ix. 5 and note. XIII After Theoderic had departed from the world,[S] the Franks, now that there was no longer anyone to oppose them, took the field against the Thuringians, and not only killed their leader Hermenefridus but also reduced to subjection the entire people. But the wife of Hermenefridus took her children and secretly made her escape, coming to Theodatus, her brother, who was at that time ruling over the Goths. After this the Germans made an attack upon the Burgundians who had survived the former war,[59] and defeating them in battle confined their leader in one of the fortresses of the country and kept him under guard, while they reduced the people to subjection and compelled them, as prisoners of war, to march with them from that time forth against their enemies, and the whole land which the Burgundians had previously inhabited they made subject and tributary to themselves. And Amalaric, who was ruling over the Visigoths, upon coming to man's estate, became thoroughly frightened at the power of the Germans and so took to wife the sister of Theudibert, ruler of the Germans, and divided Gaul with the Goths and his cousin Atalaric. The Goths, namely, received as their portion the land to the east of the Rhone River, while that to the west fell under the control of the Visigoths. And it was agreed that the tribute which Theoderic had imposed should no longer be paid to the Goths, and Atalaric honestly and justly restored to Amalaric all the money which he had taken from the city of Carcasiana. Then, since these two nations had united with one another by intermarriage, they allowed each man who had espoused a wife of the other people to choose whether he wished to follow his wife, or bring her among his own people. And there were many who led their wives to the people they preferred and many also who were led by their wives. But later on Amalaric, having given offence to his wife's brother, suffered a great calamity. For while his wife was of the orthodox faith, he himself followed the heresy of Arius, and he would not allow her to hold to her customary beliefs or to perform the rites of religion according to the tradition of her fathers, and, furthermore, because she was unwilling to conform to his customs, he held her in great dishonour. And since the woman was unable to bear this, she disclosed the whole matter to her brother. For this reason, then, the Germans and Visigoths entered into war with each other. [T]And the battle which took place was for a long time very stoutly contested, but finally Amalaric was defeated, losing many of his men, and was himself slain. And Theudibert took his sister with all the money, and as much of Gaul as the Visigoths held as their portion. And the survivors of the vanquished emigrated from Gaul with their wives and children and went to Theudis in Spain, who was already acting the tyrant openly. Thus did the Goths and Germans gain possession of Gaul. DATES: [S]526 A.D. [T]531 A.D. But at a later time[60] Theodatus, the ruler of the Goths, upon learning that Belisarius had come to Sicily, made a compact with the Germans, in which it was agreed that the Germans should have that portion of Gaul which fell to the Goths, and should receive twenty centenaria[61] of gold, and that in return they should assist the Goths in this war. But before he had as yet carried out the agreement he fulfilled his destiny.[U] It was for this reason, then, that many of the noblest of the Goths, with Marcias as their leader, were keeping guard in Gaul. It was these men whom Vittigis was unable to recall from Gaul,[62] and indeed he did not think them numerous enough even to oppose the Franks, who would, in all probability, overrun both Gaul and Italy, if he should march with his whole army against Rome. He therefore called together all who were loyal among the Goths and spoke as follows: DATE: [U]526 A.D. "The advice which I have wished to give you, fellow-countrymen, in bringing you together here at the present time, is not pleasant, but it is necessary; and do you hear me kindly, and deliberate in a manner befitting the situation which is upon us. For when affairs do not go as men wish, it is inexpedient for them to go on with their present arrangements in disregard of necessity or fortune. Now in all other respects our preparations for war are in the best possible state. But the Franks are an obstacle to us; against them, our ancient enemies, we have indeed been spending both our lives and our money, but nevertheless we have succeeded in holding our own up to the present time, since no other hostile force has confronted us. But now that we are compelled to go against another foe, it will be necessary to put an end to the war against them, in the first place because, if they remain hostile to us, they will certainly array themselves with Belisarius against us; for those who have the same enemy are by the very nature of things induced to enter into friendship and alliance with each other. In the second place, even if we carry on the war separately against each army, we shall in the end be defeated by both of them. It is better, therefore, for us to accept a little loss and thus preserve the greatest part of our kingdom, than in our eagerness to hold everything to be destroyed by the enemy and lose at the same time the whole power of our supremacy. So my opinion is that if we give the Germans the provinces of Gaul which adjoin them, and together with this land all the money which Theodatus agreed to give them, they will not only be turned from their enmity against us, but will even lend us assistance in this war. But as to how at a later time, when matters are going well for us, we may regain possession of Gaul, let no one of you consider this question. For an ancient saying[63] comes to my mind, which bids us 'settle well the affairs of the present.'" Upon hearing this speech the notables of the Goths, considering the plan advantageous, wished it to be put into effect. Accordingly envoys were immediately sent to the nation of the Germans, in order to give them the lands of Gaul together with the gold, and to make an offensive and defensive alliance. Now at that time the rulers of the Franks were Ildibert, Theudibert, and Cloadarius, and they received Gaul and the money, and divided the land among them according to the territory ruled by each one, and they agreed to be exceedingly friendly to the Goths, and secretly to send them auxiliary troops, not Franks, however, but soldiers drawn from the nations subject to them. For they were unable to make an alliance with them openly against the Romans, because they had a little before agreed to assist the emperor in this war. So the envoys, having accomplished the mission on which they had been sent, returned to Ravenna. At that time also Vittigis summoned Marcias with his followers. FOOTNOTES: [59] Cf. chap. xii. 24 ff. [60] Procopius resumes his narrative, which was interrupted by the digression beginning in chap. xii. [61] Cf. Book I. xxii. 4; III. vi. 2 and note. [62] Cf. chap. xi. 28. [63] Cf. Thuc. i. 35, [Greek: thesthai to paron], "to deal with the actual situation"; Hor. _Od._ iii. 29, 32, "quod adest memento | Componere." XIV But while Vittigis was carrying on these negotiations, Belisarius was preparing to go to Rome. He accordingly selected three hundred men from the infantry forces with Herodian as their leader, and assigned them the duty of guarding Naples. And he also sent to Cumae as large a garrison as he thought would be sufficient to guard the fortress there. For there was no stronghold in Campania except those at Cumae and at Naples. It is in this city of Cumae that the inhabitants point out the cave of the Sibyl, where they say her oracular shrine was; and Cumae is on the sea, one hundred and twenty-eight stades distant from Naples. Belisarius, then, was thus engaged in putting his army in order; but the inhabitants of Rome, fearing lest all the calamities should befall them which had befallen the Neapolitans, decided after considering the matter that it was better to receive the emperor's army into the city. And more than any other Silverius,[64] the chief priest of the city, urged them to adopt this course. So they sent Fidelius, a native of Milan, which is situated in Liguria, a man who had been previously an adviser of Atalaric (such an official is called "quaestor"[65] by the Romans), and invited Belisarius to come to Rome, promising to put the city into his hands without a battle. So Belisarius led his army from Naples by the Latin Way, leaving on the left the Appian Way, which Appius, the consul of the Romans, had made nine hundred years before[66] and to which he had given his name. Now the Appian Way is in length a journey of five days for an unencumbered traveller; for it extends from Rome to Capua. And the breadth of this road is such that two waggons going in opposite directions can pass one another, and it is one of the noteworthy sights of the world. For all the stone, which is mill-stone[67] and hard by nature, Appius quarried in another place[68] far away and brought there; for it is not found anywhere in this district. And after working these stones until they were smooth and flat, and cutting them to a polygonal shape, he fastened them together without putting concrete or anything else between them. And they were fastened together so securely and the joints were so firmly closed, that they give the appearance, when one looks at them, not of being fitted together, but of having grown together. And after the passage of so long a time, and after being traversed by many waggons and all kinds of animals every day, they have neither separated at all at the joints, nor has any one of the stones been worn out or reduced in thickness,--nay, they have not even lost any of their polish. Such, then, is the Appian Way. But as for the Goths who were keeping guard in Rome, it was not until they learned that the enemy were very near and became aware of the decision of the Romans, that they began to be concerned for the city, and, being unable to meet the attacking army in battle, they were at a loss; but later, with the permission of the Romans, they all departed thence and proceeded to Ravenna, except that Leuderis, who commanded them, being ashamed, I suppose, because of the situation in which he found himself, remained there. And it so happened on that day that at the very same time when Belisarius and the emperor's army were entering Rome through the gate which they call the Asinarian Gate, the Goths were withdrawing from the city through another gate which bears the name Flaminian; and Rome became subject to the Romans again after a space of sixty years, on the ninth day of the last month, which is called "December" by the Romans, in the eleventh year of the reign of the Emperor Justinian. [V] Now Belisarius sent Leuderis, the commander of the Goths, and the keys of the gates to the emperor, but he himself turned his attention to the circuit-wall, which had fallen into ruin in many places; and he constructed each merlon of the battlement with a wing, adding a sort of flanking wall on the left side,[69] in order that those fighting from the battlement against their assailants might never be hit by missiles thrown by those storming the wall on their left; and he also dug a moat about the wall of sufficient depth to form a very important part of the defences. And the Romans applauded the forethought of the general and especially the experience displayed in the matter of the battlement; but they marvelled greatly and were vexed that he should have thought it possible for him to enter Rome if he had any idea that he would be besieged, for it cannot possibly endure a siege because it cannot be supplied with provisions, since it is not on the sea, is enclosed by a wall of so huge a circumference,[70] and, above all, lying as it does in a very level plain, is naturally exceedingly easy of access for its assailants. But although Belisarius heard all these criticisms, he nevertheless continued to make all his preparations for a siege, and the grain which he had in his ships when he came from Sicily he stored in public granaries and kept under guard, and he compelled all the Romans, indignant though they were, to bring all their provisions in from the country. DATE: [V]536 A.D. FOOTNOTES: [64] Cf. chap. xi. 26, note. [65] The quaestor held an important position as counsellor ([Greek: paredros]) of the emperor in legal matters. It was his function, also, to formulate and publish new laws. [66] Built in 312 B.C. by the censor, Appius Claudius. [67] Chiefly basalt. As built by Appius, however, the surface was of gravel; the stone blocks date from later years. [68] Apparently an error, for lava quarries have been found along the road. [69] _i.e._ on the left of the defender. The battlement, then, in horizontal section, had this form |--|--|--, instead of the usual series of straight merlons. Winged merlons were used on the walls of Pompeii; for an excellent illustration see Overbeck, _Pompeji_^4, p. 46. [70] _i.e._ too great to be defended at every point: the total length of the circuit-wall was about twelve miles. XV At that time Pitzas, a Goth, coming from Samnium, also put himself and all the Goths who were living there with him into the hands of Belisarius, as well as the half of that part of Samnium which lies on the sea, as far as the river which flows through the middle of that district.[71] For the Goths who were settled on the other side of the river were neither willing to follow Pitzas nor to be subjects of the emperor. And Belisarius gave him a small number of soldiers to help him guard that territory. And before this the Calabrians and Apulians, since no Goths were present in their land, had willingly submitted themselves to Belisarius, both those on the coast and those who held the interior. Among the interior towns is Beneventus,[72] which in ancient times the Romans had named "Maleventus," but now they call it Beneventus, avoiding the evil omen of the former name,[73] "ventus" having the meaning "wind" in the Latin tongue. For in Dalmatia, which lies across from this city on the opposite mainland, a wind of great violence and exceedingly wild is wont to fall upon the country, and when this begins to blow, it is impossible to find a man there who continues to travel on the road, but all shut themselves up at home and wait. Such, indeed, is the force of the wind that it seizes a man on horseback together with his horse and carries him through the air, and then, after whirling him about in the air to a great distance, it throws him down wherever he may chance to be and kills him. And it so happens that Beneventus, being opposite to Dalmatia, as I have said, and situated on rather high ground, gets some of the disadvantage of this same wind. This city was built of old by Diomedes, the son of Tydeus, when after the capture of Troy he was repulsed from Argos. And he left to the city as a token the tusks of the Calydonian boar, which his uncle Meleager had received as a prize of the hunt, and they are there even up to my time, a noteworthy sight and well worth seeing, measuring not less than three spans around and having the form of a crescent. There, too, they say that Diomedes met Aeneas, the son of Anchises, when he was coming from Ilium, and in obedience to the oracle gave him the statue of Athena which he had seized as plunder in company with Odysseus, when the two went into Troy as spies before the city was captured by the Greeks. For they tell the story that when he fell sick at a later time, and made enquiry concerning the disease, the oracle responded that he would never be freed from his malady unless he should give this statue to a man of Troy. And as to where in the world the statue itself is, the Romans say they do not know, but even up to my time they shew a copy of it chiselled on a certain stone in the temple of Fortune, where it lies before the bronze statue of Athena, which is set up under the open sky in the eastern part of the temple. And this copy on the stone represents a female figure in the pose of a warrior and extending her spear as if for combat; but in spite of this she has a chiton reaching to the feet. But the face does not resemble the Greek statues of Athena, but is altogether like the work of the ancient Aegyptians. The Byzantines, however, say that the Emperor Constantine dug up this statue in the forum which bears his name[74] and set it there. So much, then, for this. In this way Belisarius won over the whole of that part of Italy which is south of the Ionian Gulf,[75] as far as Rome and Samnium, and the territory north of the gulf, as far as Liburnia, had been gained by Constantianus, as has been said.[76] But I shall now explain how Italy is divided among the inhabitants of the land. The Adriatic Sea[77] sends out a kind of outlet far into the continent and thus forms the Ionian Gulf, but it does not, as in other places where the sea enters the mainland, form an isthmus at its end. For example, the so-called Crisaean Gulf, ending at Lechaeum, where the city of Corinth is, forms the isthmus of that city, about forty stades in breadth; and the gulf off the Hellespont, which they call the Black Gulf,[78] makes the isthmus at the Chersonese no broader than the Corinthian, but of about the same size. But from the city of Ravenna, where the Ionian Gulf ends, to the Tuscan Sea is not less than eight days' journey for an unencumbered traveller. And the reason is that the arm of the sea, as it advances,[79] always inclines very far to the right. And below this gulf the first town is Dryus,[80] which is now called Hydrus. And on the right of this are the Calabrians, Apulians, and Samnites, and next to them dwell the Piceni, whose territory extends as far as the city of Ravenna. And on the other side are the remainder of the Calabrians, the Bruttii, and the Lucani, beyond whom dwell the Campani as far as the city of Taracina, and their territory is adjoined by that of Rome. These peoples hold the shores of the two seas, and all the interior of that part of Italy. And this is the country called Magna Graecia in former times. For among the Bruttii are the Epizephyrian Locrians and the inhabitants of Croton and Thurii. But north of the gulf the first inhabitants are Greeks, called Epirotes, as far as the city of Epidamnus, which is situated on the sea. And adjoining this is the land of Precalis, beyond which is the territory called Dalmatia, all of which is counted as part of the western empire. And beyond that point is Liburnia,[81] and Istria, and the land of the Veneti extending to the city of Ravenna. These countries are situated on the sea in that region. But above them are the Siscii and Suevi (not those who are subjects of the Franks, but another group), who inhabit the interior. And beyond these are settled the Carnii and Norici. On the right of these dwell the Dacians and Pannonians, who hold a number of towns, including Singidunum[82] and Sirmium, and extend as far as the Ister River. Now these peoples north of the Ionian Gulf were ruled by the Goths at the beginning of this war, but beyond the city of Ravenna on the left of the river Po the country was inhabited by the Ligurians.[83] And to the north of them live the Albani in an exceedingly good land called Langovilla, and beyond these are the nations subject to the Franks, while the country to the west is held by the Gauls and after them the Spaniards. On the right of the Po are Aemilia[84] and the Tuscan peoples, which extend as far as the boundaries of Rome. So much, then, for this. FOOTNOTES: [71] Probably either the Biferno or the Sangro. [72] _sic_ Procopius. The customary form "Beneventum" shews less clearly the derivation from "ventus" which Procopius favours. Other possible explanations are "bene" + "venio" or "bene" + (suff.) "entum." [73] Cf. Pliny III. xi. 16, § 105, who says that the name was originally "Maleventum," on account of its unwholesome air. [74] The Forum of Constantine was a short distance west of the Hippodrome. One of its principle monuments, a huge porphyry column, still stands and is known as the "Burnt Column." [75] _i.e._ the Adriatic Sea; see note 4. [76] Chap. vii. 36. [77] By the "Adriatic" is meant the part of the Mediterranean which lies between Africa on the south, Sicily and Italy on the west, and Greece and Epirus on the east; Procopius' "Ionian Gulf" is therefore our Adriatic Sea. [78] Now the Gulf of Saros, north and west of the Gallipoli peninsula. [79] _i.e._ to the north-west. Procopius means that the Adriatic should incline at its upper end more toward the left (the west) in order to form the isthmus which he is surprised to find lacking. [80] Hydruntum; cf. Book III. i. 9, note. [81] Modern Croatia. [82] Modern Belgrade. [83] Procopius seems to have erred: Liguria, as well as Aemilia (below), was south of the Po. Cf. chap. xii. 4, where Liguria is represented as extending to the Alps. [84] Whose capital was Placentia (Piacenzo). XVI So Belisarius took possession of all the territory of Rome as far as the river Tiber, and strengthened it. And when all had been settled by him in the best possible manner, he gave to Constantinus a large number of his own guards together with many spearmen, including the Massagetae Zarter, Chorsomanus, and Aeschmanus, and an army besides, commanding him to go into Tuscany, in order to win over the towns of that region. And he gave orders to Bessas to take possession of Narnia, a very strong city in Tuscany. Now this Bessas was a Goth by birth, one of those who had dwelt in Thrace from of old and had not followed Theoderic when he led the Gothic nation thence into Italy, and he was an energetic man and a capable warrior. For he was both a general of the first rank, and a skilful man in action. And Bessas took Narnia not at all against the will of the inhabitants, and Constantinus won over Spolitium[85] and Perusia[86] and certain other towns without any trouble. For the Tuscans received him into their cities willingly. So after establishing a garrison in Spolitium, he himself remained quietly with his army in Perusia, the first city in Tuscany. Now when Vittigis heard this, he sent against them an army with Unilas and Pissas as its commanders. And Constantinus confronted these troops in the outskirts of Perusia and engaged with them. The battle was at first evenly disputed, since the barbarians were superior in numbers, but afterwards the Romans by their valour gained the upper hand and routed the enemy, and while they were fleeing in complete disorder the Romans killed almost all of them; and they captured alive the commanders of the enemy and sent them to Belisarius. Now when Vittigis heard this, he was no longer willing to remain quietly in Ravenna, where he was embarrassed by the absence of Marcias and his men, who had not yet come from Gaul. So he sent to Dalmatia a great army with Asinarius and Uligisalus as its commanders, in order to recover Dalmatia for the Gothic rule. And he directed them to add to their own troops an army from the land of the Suevi, composed of the barbarians there, and then to proceed directly to Dalmatia and Salones. And he also sent with them many ships of war, in order that they might be able to besiege Salones both by land and by sea. But he himself was hastening to go with his whole army against Belisarius and Rome, leading against him horsemen and infantry to the number of not less than one hundred and fifty thousand, and the most of them as well as their horses were clad in armour. So Asinarius, upon reaching the country of the Suevi, began to gather the army of the barbarians, while Uligisalus alone led the Goths into Liburnia. And when the Romans engaged with them at a place called Scardon, they were defeated in the battle and retired to the city of Burnus; and there Uligisalus awaited his colleague. But Constantianus, upon hearing of the preparations of Asinarius, became afraid for Salones, and summoned the soldiers who were holding all the fortresses in that region. He then dug a moat around the whole circuit-wall and made all the other preparations for the siege in the best manner possible. And Asinarius, after gathering an exceedingly large army of barbarians, came to the city of Burnus. There he joined Uligisalus and the Gothic army and proceeded to Salones. And they made a stockade about the circuit-wall, and also, filling their ships with soldiers, kept guard over the side of the fortifications which faced the sea. In this manner they proceeded to besiege Salones both by land and by sea; but the Romans suddenly made an attack upon the ships of the enemy and turned them to flight, and many of them they sunk, men and all, and also captured many without their crews. However, the Goths did not raise the siege, but maintained it vigorously and kept the Romans still more closely confined to the city than before. Such, then, were the fortunes of the Roman and Gothic armies in Dalmatia. But Vittigis, upon hearing from the natives who came from Rome that the army which Belisarius had was very small, began to repent of his withdrawal from Rome, and was no longer able to endure the situation, but was now so carried away by fury that he advanced against them. And on his way thither he fell in with a priest who was coming from Rome. Whereupon they say that Vittigis in great excitement enquired of this man whether Belisarius was still in Rome, shewing that he was afraid he would not be able to catch him, but that Belisarius would forestall him by running away. But the priest, they say, replied that he need not be at all concerned about that; for he, the priest, was able to guarantee that Belisarius would never resort to flight, but was remaining where he was. But Vittigis, they say, kept hastening still more than before, praying that he might see with his own eyes the walls of Rome before Belisarius made his escape from the city. FOOTNOTES: [85] Modern Spoleto. [86] Modern Perugia. XVII But Belisarius, when he heard that the Goths were marching against him with their whole force, was in a dilemma. For he was unwilling, on the one hand, to dispense with the troops of Constantinus and Bessas, especially since his army was exceedingly small, and, on the other, it seemed to him inexpedient to abandon the strongholds in Tuscany, lest the Goths should hold these as fortresses against the Romans. So after considering the matter he sent word to Constantinus and Bessas to leave garrisons in the positions which absolutely required them, large enough to guard them, while they themselves with the rest of the army should come to Rome with all speed. And Constantinus acted accordingly. For he established garrisons in Perusia and Spolitium, and with all the rest of his troops marched off to Rome. But while Bessas, in a more leisurely manner, was making his dispositions in Narnia, it so happened that, since the enemy were passing that way, the plains in the outskirts of the city were filled with Goths. These were an advance guard preceding the rest of the army; and Bessas engaged with them and unexpectedly routed those whom he encountered and killed many; but then, since he was overpowered by their superior numbers, he retired into Narnia. And leaving a garrison there according to the instructions of Belisarius, he went with all speed to Rome, and reported that the enemy would be at hand almost instantly. For Narnia is only three hundred and fifty stades distant from Rome. But Vittigis made no attempt at all to capture Perusia and Spolitium; for these places are exceedingly strong and he was quite unwilling that his time should be wasted there, his one desire having come to be to find Belisarius not yet fled from Rome. Moreover, even when he learned that Narnia also was held by the enemy, he was unwilling to attempt anything there, knowing that the place was difficult of access and on steep ground besides; for it is situated on a lofty hill. And the river Narnus flows by the foot of the hill, and it is this which has given the city its name. There are two roads leading up to the city, the one on the east, and the other on the west. One of these is very narrow and difficult by reason of precipitous rocks, while the other cannot be reached except by way of the bridge which spans the river and provides a passage over it at that point. This bridge was built by Caesar Augustus in early times, and is a very noteworthy sight; for its arches are the highest of any known to us. So Vittigis, not enduring to have his time wasted there, departed thence with all speed and went with the whole army against Rome, making the journey through Sabine territory. [W]And when he drew near to Rome, and was not more than fourteen stades away from it, he came upon a bridge over the Tiber River.[87] There a little while before Belisarius had built a tower, furnished it with gates, and stationed in it a guard of soldiers, not because this is the only point at which the Tiber could be crossed by the enemy (for there are both boats and bridges at many places along the river), but because he wished the enemy to have to spend more time in the journey, since he was expecting another army from the emperor, and also in order that the Romans might bring in still more provisions. For if the barbarians, repulsed at that point, should try to cross on a bridge somewhere else, he thought that not less than twenty days would be consumed by them, and if they wished to launch boats in the Tiber to the necessary number, a still longer time would probably be wasted by them. These, then, were the considerations which led him to establish the garrison at that point; and the Goths bivouacked there that day, being at a loss and supposing that they would be obliged to storm the tower on the following day; but twenty-two deserters came to them, men who were barbarians by race but Roman soldiers, from the cavalry troop commanded by Innocentius.[88] Just at that time it occurred to Belisarius to establish a camp near the Tiber River, in order that they might hinder still more the crossing of the enemy and make some kind of a display of their own daring to their opponents. But all the soldiers who, as has been stated, were keeping guard at the bridge, being overcome with terror at the throng of Goths and quailing at the magnitude of their danger, abandoned by night the tower they were guarding and rushed off in flight. But thinking that they could not enter Rome, they stealthily marched off toward Campania, either because they were afraid of the punishment the general would inflict or because they were ashamed to appear before their comrades. DATE: [W]Feb. 21, 537 A.D. FOOTNOTES: [87] The Mulvian Bridge. [88] Cf. chap. v. 3. XVIII On the following day the Goths destroyed the gates of the tower with no trouble and made the crossing, since no one tried to oppose them. But Belisarius, who had not as yet learned what had happened to the garrison, was bringing up a thousand horsemen to the bridge over the river, in order to look over the ground and decide where it would be best for his forces to make camp. But when they had come rather close, they met the enemy already across the river, and not at all willingly they engaged with some of them. And the battle was carried on by horsemen on both sides. Then Belisarius, though he was safe before, would no longer keep the general's post, but began to fight in the front ranks like a soldier; and consequently the cause of the Romans was thrown into great danger, for the whole decision of the war rested with him. But it happened that the horse he was riding at that time was unusually experienced in warfare and knew well how to save his rider; and his whole body was dark grey, except that his face from the top of his head to the nostrils was the purest white. Such a horse the Greeks call "phalius"[89] and the barbarians "balan." And it so happened that the most of the Goths threw their javelins and other missiles at him and at Belisarius for the following reason. Those deserters who on the previous day had come to the Goths, when they saw Belisarius fighting in the front ranks, knowing well that, if he should fall, the cause of the Romans would be ruined instantly, cried aloud urging them to "shoot at the white-faced horse." Consequently this saying was passed around and reached the whole Gothic army, and they did not question it at all, since they were in a great tumult of fighting, nor did they know clearly that it referred to Belisarius. But conjecturing that it was not by mere accident that the saying had gained such currency as to reach all, the most of them, neglecting all others, began to shoot at Belisarius. And every man among them who laid any claim to valour was immediately possessed with a great eagerness to win honour, and getting as close as possible they kept trying to lay hold of him and in a great fury kept striking with their spears and swords. But Belisarius himself, turning from side to side, kept killing as they came those who encountered him, and he also profited very greatly by the loyalty of his own spearmen and guards in this moment of danger. For they all surrounded him and made a display of valour such, I imagine, as has never been shewn by any man in the world to this day; for, holding out their shields in defence of both the general and his horse, they not only received all the missiles, but also forced back and beat off those who from time to time assailed him. And thus the whole engagement was centred about the body of one man. In this struggle there fell among the Goths no fewer than a thousand, and they were men who fought in the front ranks; and of the household of Belisarius many of the noblest were slain, and Maxentius, the spearman, after making a display of great exploits against the enemy. But by some chance Belisarius was neither wounded nor hit by a missile on that day, although the battle was waged around him alone. Finally by their valour the Romans turned the enemy to flight, and an exceedingly great multitude of barbarians fled until they reached their main army. For there the Gothic infantry, being entirely fresh, withstood their enemy and forced them back without any trouble. And when another body of cavalry in turn reinforced the Goths, the Romans fled at top speed until they reached a certain hill, which they climbed, and there held their position. But the enemy's horsemen were upon them directly, and a second cavalry battle took place. There Valentinus, the groom of Photius, the son of Antonina, made a remarkable exhibition of valour. For by leaping alone into the throng of the enemy he opposed himself to the onrush of the Goths and thus saved his companions. In this way the Romans escaped, and arrived at the fortifications of Rome, and the barbarians in pursuit pressed upon them as far as the wall by the gate which has been named the Salarian Gate.[90] But the people of Rome, fearing lest the enemy should rush in together with the fugitives and thus get inside the fortifications, were quite unwilling to open the gates, although Belisarius urged them again and again and called upon them with threats to do so. For, on the one hand, those who peered out of the tower were unable to recognise the man, for his face and his whole head were covered with gore and dust, and at the same time no one was able to see very clearly, either; for it was late in the day, about sunset. Moreover, the Romans had no reason to suppose that the general survived; for those who had come in flight from the rout which had taken place earlier reported that Belisarius had died fighting bravely in the front ranks. So the throng of the enemy, which had rushed up in strength and possessed with great fury, were purposing to cross the moat straightway and attack the fugitives there; and the Romans, finding themselves massed along the wall, after they had come inside the moat, and so close together that they touched one another, were being crowded into a small space. Those inside the fortifications, however, since they were without a general and altogether unprepared, and being in a panic of fear for themselves and for the city, were quite unable to defend their own men, although these were now in so perilous a situation. Then a daring thought came to Belisarius, which unexpectedly saved the day for the Romans. For urging on all his men he suddenly fell upon the enemy. And they, even before this, had been in great disorder because of the darkness and the fact that they were making a pursuit, and now when, much to their surprise, they saw the fugitives attacking them, they supposed that another army also had come to their assistance from the city, and so were thrown into a great panic and all fled immediately at top speed. But Belisarius by no means rushed out to pursue them, but returned straightway to the wall. And at this the Romans took courage and received him and all his men into the city. So narrowly did Belisarius and the emperor's cause escape peril; and the battle which had begun early in the morning did not end until night. And those who distinguished themselves above all others by their valour in this battle were, among the Romans, Belisarius, and among the Goths, Visandus Vandalarius, who had fallen upon Belisarius at the first when the battle took place about him, and did not desist until he had received thirteen wounds on his body and fell. And since he was supposed to have died immediately, he was not cared for by his companions, although they were victorious, and he lay there with the dead. But on the third day, when the barbarians had made camp hard by the circuit-wall of Rome and had sent some men in order to bury their dead and to perform the customary rites of burial, those who were searching out the bodies of the fallen found Visandus Vandalarius with life still in him, and one of his companions entreated him to speak some word to him. But he could not do even this, for the inside of his body was on fire because of the lack of food and the thirst caused by his suffering, and so he nodded to him to put water into his mouth. Then when he had drunk and become himself again, they lifted and carried him to the camp. And Visandus Vandalarius won a great name for this deed among the Goths, and he lived on a very considerable time, enjoying the greatest renown. This, then, took place on the third day after the battle. But at that time Belisarius, after reaching safety with his followers, gathered the soldiers and almost the whole Roman populace to the wall, and commanded them to burn many fires and keep watch throughout the whole night. And going about the circuit of the fortifications, he set everything in order and put one of his commanders in charge of each gate. But Bessas, who took command of the guard at the gate called the Praenestine,[91] sent a messenger to Belisarius with orders to say that the city was held by the enemy, who had broken in through another gate which is across the Tiber River[92] and bears the name of Pancratius, a holy man. And all those who were in the company of Belisarius, upon hearing this, urged him to save himself as quickly as possible through some other gate. He, however, neither became panic-stricken, nor did he hesitate to declare that the report was false. And he also sent some of his horsemen across the Tiber with all speed, and they, after looking over the ground there, brought back word that no hostile attack had been made on the city in that quarter. He therefore sent immediately to each gate and instructed the commanders everywhere that, whenever they heard that the enemy had broken in at any other part of the fortifications, they should not try to assist in the defence nor abandon their post, but should remain quiet; for he himself would take care of such matters. And he did this in order that they might not be thrown into disorder a second time by a rumour which was not true. But Vittigis, while the Romans were still in great confusion, sent to the Salarian Gate[93] one of his commanders, Vacis by name, a man of no mean station. And when he had arrived there, he began to reproach the Romans for their faithlessness to the Goths and upbraided them for the treason which he said they had committed against both their fatherland and themselves, for they had exchanged the power of the Goths for Greeks who were not able to defend them, although they had never before seen any men of the Greek race come to Italy except actors of tragedy and mimes and thieving sailors.[94] Such words and many like them were spoken by Vacis, but since no one replied to him, he returned to the Goths and Vittigis. As for Belisarius, he brought upon himself much ridicule on the part of the Romans, for though he had barely escaped from the enemy, he bade them take courage thenceforth and look with contempt upon the barbarians; for he knew well, he said, that he would conquer them decisively. Now the manner in which he had come to know this with certainty will be told in the following narrative.[95] At length, when it was well on in the night, Belisarius, who had been fasting up to this time, was with difficulty compelled by his wife and those of his friends who were present to taste a very little bread. Thus, then, the two armies passed this night. [Illustration: Based upon the plan in Hodgkin's "Italy and her Invaders." Edward Stanford Ltd. London] FOOTNOTES: [89] Having a white spot, "White-face." [90] See plan opposite p. 185. [91] See plan opposite p. 185. [92] For Procopius' description of the wall "across the Tiber," see chap. xix. 6-10. [93] See plan opposite p. 185. [94] Cf. Book IV. xxvii. 38, note. [95] Chap. xxvii. 25-29. XIX But on the following day they arrayed themselves for the struggle, the Goths thinking to capture Rome by siege without any trouble on account of the great size of the city, and the Romans defending it. Now the wall of the city has fourteen large gates and several smaller ones. And the Goths, being unable with their entire army to envelop the wall on every side, made six fortified camps from which they harassed the portion of the wall containing five gates, from the Flaminian as far as the one called the Praenestine Gate; and all these camps were made by them on the left bank of the Tiber River. Wherefore the barbarians feared lest their enemy, by destroying the bridge which bears the name of Mulvius, should render inaccessible to them all the land on the right bank of the river as far as the sea, and in this way have not the slightest experience of the evils of a siege, and so they fixed a seventh camp across the Tiber in the Plain of Nero, in order that the bridge might be between their two armies. So in this way two other gates came to be exposed to the attacks of the enemy, the Aurelian[96] (which is now named after Peter, the chief of the Apostles of Christ, since he lies not far from there[97]) and the Transtiburtine Gate.[98] Thus the Goths surrounded only about one-half of the wall with their army, but since they were in no direction wholly shut off from the wall by the river, they made attacks upon it throughout its whole extent whenever they wished. Now the way the Romans came to build the city-wall on both sides of the river I shall now proceed to tell. In ancient times the Tiber used to flow alongside the circuit-wall for a considerable distance, even at the place where it is now enclosed. But this ground, on which the wall rises along the stream of the river, is flat and very accessible. And opposite this flat ground, across the Tiber, it happens that there is a great hill[99] where all the mills of the city have been built from of old, because much water is brought by an aqueduct to the crest of the hill, and rushes thence down the incline with great force. For this reason the ancient Romans[100] determined to surround the hill and the river bank near it with a wall, so that it might never be possible for an enemy to destroy the mills, and crossing the river, to carry on operations with ease against the circuit-wall of the city. So they decided to span the river at this point with a bridge, and to attach it to the wall; and by building many houses in the district across the river they caused the stream of the Tiber to be in the middle of the city. So much then for this. And the Goths dug deep trenches about all their camps, and heaped up the earth, which they took out from them, on the inner side of the trenches, making this bank exceedingly high, and they planted great numbers of sharp stakes on the top, thus making all their camps in no way inferior to fortified strongholds. And the camp in the Plain of Nero was commanded by Marcias (for he had by now arrived from Gaul with his followers, with whom he was encamped there), and the rest of the camps were commanded by Vittigis with five others; for there was one commander for each camp. So the Goths, having taken their positions in this way, tore open all the aqueducts, so that no water at all might enter the city from them. Now the aqueducts of Rome are fourteen in number, and were made of baked brick by the men of old, being of such breadth and height that it is possible for a man on horseback to ride in them.[101] And Belisarius arranged for the defence of the city in the following manner. He himself held the small Pincian Gate and the gate next to this on the right, which is named the Salarian. For at these gates the circuit-wall was assailable, and at the same time it was possible for the Romans to go out from them against the enemy. The Praenestine Gate he gave to Bessas. And at the Flaminian, which is on the other side of the Pincian, he put Constantinus in command, having previously closed the gates and blocked them up most securely by building a wall of great stones on the inside, so that it might be impossible for anyone to open them. For since one of the camps was very near, he feared least some secret plot against the city should be made there by the enemy. And the remaining gates he ordered the commanders of the infantry forces to keep under guard. And he closed each of the aqueducts as securely as possible by filling their channels with masonry for a considerable distance, to prevent anyone from entering through them from the outside to do mischief. But after the aqueducts had been broken open, as I have stated, the water no longer worked the mills, and the Romans were quite unable to operate them with any kind of animals owing to the scarcity of all food in time of siege; indeed they were scarcely able to provide for the horses which were indispensable to them. And so Belisarius hit upon the following device. Just below the bridge[102] which I lately mentioned as being connected with the circuit-wall, he fastened ropes from the two banks of the river and stretched them as tight as he could, and then attached to them two boats side by side and two feet apart, where the flow of the water comes down from the arch of the bridge with the greatest force, and placing two mills on either boat, he hung between them the mechanism by which mills are customarily turned. And below these he fastened other boats, each attached to the one next behind in order, and he set the water-wheels between them in the same manner for a great distance. So by the force of the flowing water all the wheels, one after the other, were made to revolve independently, and thus they worked the mills with which they were connected and ground sufficient flour for the city. Now when the enemy learned this from the deserters, they destroyed the wheels in the following manner. They gathered large trees and bodies of Romans newly slain and kept throwing them into the river; and the most of these were carried with the current between the boats and broke off the mill-wheels. But Belisarius, observing what was being done, contrived the following device against it. He fastened above the bridge long iron chains, which reached completely across the Tiber. All the objects which the river brought down struck upon these chains, and gathered there and went no farther. And those to whom this work was assigned kept pulling out these objects as they came and bore them to the land. And Belisarius did this, not so much on account of the mills, as because he began to think with alarm that the enemy might get inside the bridge at this point with many boats and be in the middle of the city before their presence became known. Thus the barbarians abandoned the attempt, since they met with no success in it. And thereafter the Romans continued to use these mills; but they were entirely excluded from the baths because of the scarcity of water. However, they had sufficient water to drink, since even for those who lived very far from the river it was possible to draw water from wells. But as for the sewers, which carry out from the city whatever is unclean, Belisarius was not forced to devise any plan of safety, for they all discharge into the Tiber River, and therefore it was impossible for any plot to be made against the city by the enemy in connection with them. FOOTNOTES: [96] This is an error. Procopius means the Porta Cornelia. [97] According to tradition the Basilica of St. Peter was built over the grave of the Apostle. [98] The Aurelian. [99] The Janiculum. [100] The wall described was a part of the wall of Aurelian. [101] This is an exaggeration; the channels vary from four to eight feet in height. [102] The Pons Aurelius. See section 10 of this chapter. XX Thus, then, did Belisarius make his arrangements for the siege. And among the Samnites a large company of children, who were pasturing flocks in their own country, chose out two among them who were well favoured in strength of body, and calling one of them by the name of Belisarius, and naming the other Vittigis, bade them wrestle. And they entered into the struggle with the greatest vehemence and it so fell out that the one who impersonated Vittigis was thrown. Then the crowd of boys in play hung him to a tree. But a wolf by some chance appeared there, whereupon the boys all fled, and the one called Vittigis, who was suspended from the tree, remained for some time suffering this punishment and then died. And when this became known to the Samnites, they did not inflict any punishment upon these children, but divining the meaning of the incident declared that Belisarius would conquer decisively. So much for this. But the populace of Rome were entirely unacquainted with the evils of war and siege. When, therefore, they began to be distressed by their inability to bathe and the scarcity of provisions, and found themselves obliged to forgo sleep in guarding the circuit-wall, and suspected that the city would be captured at no distant date; and when, at the same time, they saw the enemy plundering their fields and other possessions, they began to be dissatisfied and indignant that they, who had done no wrong, should suffer siege and be brought into peril of such magnitude. And gathering in groups by themselves, they railed openly against Belisarius, on the ground that he had dared to take the field against the Goths before he had received an adequate force from the emperor. And these reproaches against Belisarius were secretly indulged in also by the members of the council which they call the senate. And Vittigis, hearing all this from the deserters and desiring to embroil them with one another still more, and thinking that in this way the affairs of the Romans would be thrown into great confusion, sent to Belisarius some envoys, among whom was Albis. And when these men came before Belisarius, they spoke as follows in the presence of the Roman senators and all the commanders of the army: "From of old, general, mankind has made true and proper distinctions in the names they give to things; and one of these distinctions is this--rashness is different from bravery. For rashness, when it takes possession of a man, brings him into danger with discredit, but bravery bestows upon him an adequate prize in reputation for valour. Now one of these two has brought you against us, but which it is you will straightway make clear. For if, on the one hand, you placed your confidence in bravery when you took the field against the Goths, there is ample opportunity, noble sir, for you to do the deeds of a brave man, since you have only to look down from your wall to see the army of the enemy; but if, on the other hand, it was because you were possessed by rashness that you came to attack us, certainly you now repent you of the reckless undertaking. For the opinions of those who have made a desperate venture are wont to undergo a change whenever they find themselves in serious straits. Now, therefore, do not cause the sufferings of these Romans to be prolonged any further, men whom Theoderic fostered in a life not only of soft luxury but also of freedom, and cease your resistance to him who is the master both of the Goths and of the Italians. Is it not monstrous that you should sit in Rome hemmed in as you are and in abject terror of the enemy, while the king of this city passes his time in a fortified camp and inflicts the evils of war upon his own subjects? But we shall give both you and your followers an opportunity to take your departure forthwith in security, retaining all your possessions. For to trample upon those who have learned to take a new view of prudence we consider neither holy nor worthy of the ways of men. And, further, we should gladly ask these Romans what complaints they could have had against the Goths that they betrayed both us and themselves, seeing that up to this time they have enjoyed our kindness, and now are acquainted by experience with the assistance to be expected from you." Thus spoke the envoys. And Belisarius replied as follows: "It is not to rest with you to choose the moment for conference. For men are by no means wont to wage war according to the judgment of their enemies, but it is customary for each one to arrange his own affairs for himself, in whatever manner seems to him best. But I say to you that there will come a time when you will want to hide your heads under the thistles but will find no shelter anywhere. As for Rome, moreover, which we have captured, in holding it we hold nothing which belongs to others, but it was you who trespassed upon this city in former times, though it did not belong to you at all, and now you have given it back, however unwillingly, to its ancient possessors. And whoever of you has hopes of setting foot in Rome without a fight is mistaken in his judgment. For as long as Belisarius lives, it is impossible for him to relinquish this city." Such were the words of Belisarius. But the Romans, being overcome by a great fear, sat in silence, and, even though they were abused by the envoys at length for their treason to the Goths, dared make no reply to them, except, indeed, that Fidelius saw fit to taunt them. This man was then praetorian prefect, having been appointed to the office by Belisarius, and for this reason he seemed above all others to be well disposed toward the emperor. XXI The envoys then betook themselves to their own army. And when Vittigis enquired of them what manner of man Belisarius was and how his purpose stood with regard to the question of withdrawing from Rome, they replied that the Goths were hoping for vain things if they supposed that they would frighten Belisarius in any way whatsoever. And when Vittigis heard this, he began in great earnest to plan an assault upon the wall, and the preparations he made for the attempt upon the fortifications were as follows. He constructed wooden towers equal in height to the enemy's wall, and he discovered its true measure by making many calculations based upon the courses of stone. And wheels were attached to the floor of these towers under each corner, which were intended, as they turned, to move the towers to any point the attacking army might wish at a given time, and the towers were drawn by oxen yoked together. After this he made ready a great number of ladders, that would reach as far as the parapet, and four engines which are called rams. Now this engine is of the following sort. Four upright wooden beams, equal in length, are set up opposite one another. To these beams they fit eight horizontal timbers, four above and an equal number at the base, thus binding them together. After they have thus made the frame of a four-sided building, they surround it on all sides, not with walls of wood or stone, but with a covering of hides, in order that the engine may be light for those who draw it and that those within may still be in the least possible danger of being shot by their opponents. And on the inside they hang another horizontal beam from the top by means of chains which swing free, and they keep it at about the middle of the interior. They then sharpen the end of this beam and cover it with a large iron head, precisely as they cover the round point of a missile, or they sometimes make the iron head square like an anvil. And the whole structure is raised upon four wheels, one being attached to each upright beam, and men to the number of no fewer than fifty to each ram move it from the inside. Then when they apply it to the wall, they draw back the beam which I have just mentioned by turning a certain mechanism, and then they let it swing forward with great force against the wall. And this beam by frequent blows is able quite easily to batter down and tear open a wall wherever it strikes, and it is for this reason that the engine has the name it bears, because the striking end of the beam, projecting as it does, is accustomed to butt against whatever it may encounter, precisely as do the males among sheep. Such, then, are the rams used by the assailants of a wall. And the Goths were holding in readiness an exceedingly great number of bundles of faggots, which they had made of pieces of wood and reeds, in order that by throwing them into the moat they might make the ground level, and that their engines might not be prevented from crossing it. Now after the Goths had made their preparations in this manner, they were eager to make an assault upon the wall. But Belisarius placed upon the towers engines which they call "ballistae."[103] Now these engines have the form of a bow, but on the under side of them a grooved wooden shaft projects; this shaft is so fitted to the bow that it is free to move, and rests upon a straight iron bed. So when men wish to shoot at the enemy with this, they make the parts of the bow which form the ends bend toward one another by means of a short rope fastened to them, and they place in the grooved shaft the arrow, which is about one half the length of the ordinary missiles which they shoot from bows, but about four times as wide. However, it does not have feathers of the usual sort attached to it, but by inserting thin pieces of wood in place of feathers, they give it in all respects the form of an arrow, making the point which they put on very large and in keeping with its thickness. And the men who stand on either side wind it up tight by means of certain appliances, and then the grooved shaft shoots forward and stops, but the missile is discharged from the shaft,[104] and with such force that it attains the distance of not less than two bow-shots, and that, when it hits a tree or a rock, it pierces it easily. Such is the engine which bears this name, being so called because it shoots with very great force.[105] And they fixed other engines along the parapet of the wall adapted for throwing stones. Now these resemble slings and are called "wild asses."[106] And outside the gates they placed "wolves,"[107] which they make in the following manner. They set up two timbers which reach from the ground to the battlements; then they fit together beams which have been mortised to one another, placing some upright and others crosswise, so that the spaces between the intersections appear as a succession of holes. And from every joint there projects a kind of beak, which resembles very closely a thick goad. Then they fasten the cross-beams to the two upright timbers, beginning at the top and letting them extend half way down, and then lean the timbers back against the gates. And whenever the enemy come up near them, those above lay hold of the ends of the timbers and push, and these, falling suddenly upon the assailants, easily kill with the projecting beaks as many as they may catch. So Belisarius was thus engaged. FOOTNOTES: [103] Cf. The description of the ballista and other engines of war in Ammianus Marcellinus, XXII. iv. The engine here described by Procopius is the catapult of earlier times; the ballista hurled stones, not arrows. See the Classical Dictionaries for illustrations. [104] The "shaft" is a holder for the missile, and it (not the missile) is driven by the bowstring. When the holder stops, the missile goes on. [105] A popular etymology of [Greek: bállistra], a corrupted form of [Greek: bállista]; the point is in the Greek words [Greek: bállo] + [Greek: málista], an etymology correct only as far as [Greek: bállo] is concerned. [106] Called also "scorpions"; described by Ammianus, _l.c._ [107] This contrivance was not one familiar to classical times. The "lupi" of Livy XXVIII. iii. were hooks; Vegetius, _De Re Militari_, ii. 25 and iv. 23, mentions "lupi" (also hooks), used to put a battering-ram out of action. XXII On the eighteenth day from the beginning of the siege the Goths moved against the fortifications at about sunrise under the leadership of Vittigis in order to assault the wall, and all the Romans were struck with consternation at the sight of the advancing towers and rams, with which they were altogether unfamiliar. But Belisarius, seeing the ranks of the enemy as they advanced with the engines, began to laugh, and commanded the soldiers to remain quiet and under no circumstances to begin fighting until he himself should give the signal. Now the reason why he laughed he did not reveal at the moment, but later it became known. The Romans, however, supposing him to be hiding his real feelings by a jest, abused him and called him shameless, and were indignant that he did not try to check the enemy as they came forward. But when the Goths came near the moat, the general first of all stretched his bow and with a lucky aim hit in the neck and killed one of the men in armour who were leading the army on. And he fell on his back mortally wounded, while the whole Roman army raised an extraordinary shout such as was never heard before, thinking that they had received an excellent omen. And twice did Belisarius send forth his bolt, and the very same thing happened again a second time, and the shouting rose still louder from the circuit-wall, and the Romans thought that the enemy were conquered already. Then Belisarius gave the signal for the whole army to put their bows into action, but those near himself he commanded to shoot only at the oxen. And all the oxen fell immediately, so that the enemy could neither move the towers further nor in their perplexity do anything to meet the emergency while the fighting was in progress. In this way the forethought of Belisarius in not trying to check the enemy while still at a great distance came to be understood, as well as the reason why he had laughed at the simplicity of the barbarians, who had been so thoughtless as to hope to bring oxen up to the enemy's wall. Now all this took place at the Salarian Gate. But Vittigis, repulsed at this point, left there a large force of Goths, making of them a very deep phalanx and instructing the commanders on no condition to make an assault upon the fortifications, but remaining in position to shoot rapidly at the parapet, and give Belisarius no opportunity whatever to take reinforcements to any other part of the wall which he himself might propose to attack with a superior force; he then went to the Praenestine Gate with a great force, to a part of the fortifications which the Romans call the "Vivarium,"[108] where the wall was most assailable. Now it so happened that engines of war were already there, including towers and rams and a great number of ladders. But in the meantime another Gothic assault was being made at the Aurelian Gate[109] in the following manner. The tomb of the Roman Emperor Hadrian[110] stands outside the Aurelian Gate, removed about a stone's throw from the fortifications, a very noteworthy sight. For it is made of Parian marble, and the stones fit closely one upon the other, having nothing at all[111] between them. And it has four sides which are all equal, each being about a stone's throw in length, while their height exceeds that of the city wall; and above there are statues of the same marble, representing men and horses, of wonderful workmanship.[112] But since this tomb seemed to the men of ancient times a fortress threatening the city, they enclosed it by two walls, which extend to it from the circuit-wall,[113] and thus made it a part of the wall. And, indeed, it gives the appearance of a high tower built as a bulwark before the gate there. So the fortifications at that point were most adequate. Now Constantinus, as it happened, had been appointed by Belisarius to have charge of the garrison at this tomb. And he had instructed him also to attend to the guarding of the adjoining wall, which had a small and inconsiderable garrison. For, since that part of the circuit-wall was the least assailable of all, because the river flows along it, he supposed that no assault would be made there, and so stationed an insignificant garrison at that place, and, since the soldiers he had were few, he assigned the great majority to the positions where there was most need of them. For the emperor's army gathered in Rome at the beginning of this siege amounted at most to only five thousand men. But since it was reported to Constantinus that the enemy were attempting the crossing of the Tiber, he became fearful for that part of the fortifications and went thither himself with all speed, accompanied by some few men to lend assistance, commanding the greater part of his men to attend to the guarding of the gate and the tomb. But meanwhile the Goths began an assault upon the Aurelian Gate and the Tower of Hadrian, and though they had no engines of war, they brought up a great quantity of ladders, and thought that by shooting a vast number of arrows they would very easily reduce the enemy to a state of helplessness and overpower the garrison there without any trouble on account of its small numbers. And as they advanced, they held before them shields no smaller than the long shields used by the Persians, and they succeeded in getting very close to their opponents without being perceived by them. For they came hidden under the colonnade which extends[114] to the church of the Apostle Peter. From that shelter they suddenly appeared and began the attack, so that the guards were neither able to use the engine called the ballista (for these engines do not send their missiles except straight out), nor, indeed, could they ward off their assailants with their arrows, since the situation was against them on account of the large shields. But the Goths kept pressing vigorously upon them, shooting many missiles at the battlements, and they were already about to set their ladders against the wall, having practically surrounded those who were fighting from the tomb; for whenever the Goths advanced they always got in the rear of the Romans on both flanks[115]; and for a short time consternation fell upon the Romans, who knew not what means of defence they should employ to save themselves, but afterwards by common agreement they broke in pieces the most of the statues, which were very large, and taking up great numbers of stones thus secured, threw them with both hands down upon the heads of the enemy, who gave way before this shower of missiles. And as they retreated a little way, the Romans, having by now the advantage, plucked up courage, and with a mighty shout began to drive back their assailants by using their bows and hurling stones at them. And putting their hands to the engines, they reduced their opponents to great fear, and their assault was quickly ended. And by this time Constantinus also was present, having frightened back those who had tried the river and easily driven them off, because they did not find the wall there entirely unguarded, as they had supposed they would. And thus safety was restored at the Aurelian Gate.[116] FOOTNOTES: [108] See chap. xxiii. 15-17 and note. [109] Procopius errs again (cf. chap. xix. 4). He means the Porta Cornelia. [110] Now called Castello di Sant' Angelo. [111] _i.e._ No mortar or other binding material. [112] The square structure was the base of the monument, each side measuring 300 Roman feet in length and 85 feet in height. Above this rose a cylindrical drum, surrounded by columns and carrying the statues, and perhaps capped by a second drum. For details see Jordan, _Topographie der Stadt Rom_, iii. 663 ff. [113] Procopius neglects to say that the tomb was across the river from the circuit-wall at this point, at the end of a bridge (Pons Aelius) which faced the gate (Porta Cornelia) which he calls the Aurelian Gate. [114] From the Pons Aelius. [115] Because of the quadrangular shape of the building the Goths were able to take their enemy in flank and in rear by advancing beyond the corners. [116] _i.e._ the Cornelian. XXIII But at the gate beyond the Tiber River, which is called the Pancratian Gate, a force of the enemy came, but accomplished nothing worth mentioning because of the strength of the place; for the fortifications of the city at this point are on a steep elevation and are not favourably situated for assaults. Paulus was keeping guard there with an infantry detachment which he commanded in person. In like manner they made no attempt on the Flaminian Gate, because it is situated on a precipitous slope and is not very easy of access. The "Reges,"[117] an infantry detachment, were keeping guard there with Ursicinus, who commanded them. And between this gate and the small gate next on the right, which is called the Pincian, a certain portion of the wall had split open of its own accord in ancient times, not clear to the ground, however, but about half way down, but still it had not fallen or been otherwise destroyed, though it leaned so to either side that one part of it appeared outside the rest of the wall and the other inside. And from this circumstance the Romans from ancient times have called the place "Broken Wall"[118] in their own tongue. But when Belisarius in the beginning undertook to tear down this portion and rebuild it, the Romans prevented him, declaring that the Apostle Peter had promised them that he would care for the guarding of the wall there. This Apostle is reverenced by the Romans and held in awe above all others. And the outcome of events at this place was in all respects what the Romans contemplated and expected. For neither on that day nor throughout the whole time during which the Goths were besieging Rome did any hostile force come to that place, nor did any disturbance occur there. And we marvelled indeed that it never occurred to us nor to the enemy to remember this portion of the fortifications during the whole time, either while they were making their assaults or carrying out their designs against the wall by night; and yet many such attempts were made. It was for this reason, in fact, that at a later time also no one ventured to rebuild this part of the defences, but up to the present day the wall there is split open in this way. So much, then, for this. And at the Salarian Gate a Goth of goodly stature and a capable warrior, wearing a corselet and having a helmet on his head, a man who was of no mean station in the Gothic nation, refused to remain in the ranks with his comrades, but stood by a tree and kept shooting many missiles at the parapet. But this man by some chance was hit by a missile from an engine which was on a tower at his left. And passing through the corselet and the body of the man, the missile sank more than half its length into the tree, and pinning him to the spot where it entered the tree, it suspended him there a corpse. And when this was seen by the Goths they fell into great fear, and getting outside the range of missiles, they still remained in line, but no longer harassed those on the wall. But Bessas and Peranius summoned Belisarius, since Vittigis was pressing most vigorously upon them at the Vivarium. And he was fearful concerning the wall there (for it was most assailable at that point, as has been said[119]), and so came to the rescue himself with all speed, leaving one of his friends at the Salarian Gate. And finding that the soldiers in the Vivarium dreaded the attack of the enemy, which was being pressed with great vigour and by very large numbers, he bade them look with contempt upon the enemy and thus restored their confidence. Now the ground there[120] was very level, and consequently the place lay open to the attacks of any assailant. And for some reason the wall at that point had crumbled a great deal, and to such an extent that the binding of the bricks did not hold together very well. Consequently the ancient Romans had built another wall of short length outside of it and encircling it, not for the sake of safety (for it was neither strengthened with towers, nor indeed was there any battlement built upon it, nor any other means by which it would have been possible to repulse an enemy's assault upon the fortifications), but in order to provide for an unseemly kind of luxury, namely, that they might confine and keep there lions and other wild animals. And it is for this reason that this place has been named the Vivarium; for thus the Romans call a place where untamed animals are regularly cared for. So Vittigis began to make ready various engines at different places along the wall and commanded the Goths to mine the outside wall, thinking that, if they should get inside that, they would have no trouble in capturing the main wall, which he knew to be by no means strong. But Belisarius, seeing that the enemy was undermining the Vivarium and assaulting the fortifications at many places, neither allowed the soldiers to defend the wall nor to remain at the battlement, except a very few, although he had with him whatever men of distinction the army contained. But he held them all in readiness below about the gates, with their corselets on and carrying only swords in their hands. And when the Goths, after making a breach in the wall, got inside the Vivarium, he quickly sent Cyprian with some others into the enclosure against them, commanding them to set to work. And they slew all who had broken in, for these made no defence and at the same time were being destroyed by one another in the cramped space about the exit. And since the enemy were thrown into dismay by the sudden turn of events and were not drawn up in order, but were rushing one in one direction and one in another, Belisarius suddenly opened the gates of the circuit-wall and sent out his entire army against his opponents. And the Goths had not the least thought of resistance, but rushed off in flight in any and every direction, while the Romans, following them up, found no difficulty in killing all whom they fell in with, and the pursuit proved a long one, since the Goths, in assaulting the wall at that place, were far away from their own camps. Then Belisarius gave the order to burn the enemy's engines, and the flames, rising to a great height, naturally increased the consternation of the fugitives. Meanwhile it chanced that the same thing happened at the Salarian Gate also. For the Romans suddenly opened the gates and fell unexpectedly upon the barbarians, and, as these made no resistance but turned their backs, slew them; and they burned the engines of war which were within their reach. And the flames at many parts of the wall rose to a great height, and the Goths were already being forced to retire from the whole circuit-wall; and the shouting on both sides was exceedingly loud, as the men on the wall urged on the pursuers, and those in the camps bewailed the overwhelming calamity they had suffered. Among the Goths there perished on that day thirty thousand, as their leaders declared, and a larger number were wounded; for since they were massed in great numbers, those fighting from the battlement generally hit somebody when they shot at them, and at the same time those who made the sallies destroyed an extraordinary number of terrified and fleeing men. And the fighting at the wall, which had commenced early in the morning, did not end until late in the afternoon. During that night, then, both armies bivouacked where they were, the Romans singing the song of victory on the fortifications and lauding Belisarius to the skies, having with them the spoils stripped from the fallen, while the Goths cared for their wounded and bewailed their dead. FOOTNOTES: [117] "No doubt these are the same as the _Regii_, one of the seventeen 'Auxilia Palatina' under the command of the Magister Militum Praesentalis, mentioned in the _Notitia Orientis_, chap. v."--HODGKIN. [118] Murus Ruptus. "Here, to this day, notwithstanding some lamentable and perfectly unnecessary 'restorations' of recent years, may be seen some portions of the Muro Torto, a twisted, bulging, overhanging mass of _opus reticulatum_."--HODGKIN. [119] Chap. xxii. 10. [120] The exact location is hard to determine; the majority of the authorities agree on the location given in the plan (opposite p. 185), near the Porta Labicana. XXIV And Belisarius wrote a letter to the emperor of the following purport: "We have arrived in Italy, as thou didst command, and we have made ourselves masters of much territory in it and have taken possession of Rome also, after driving out the barbarians who were here, whose leader, Leuderis, I have recently sent to you. But since we have stationed a great number of soldiers both in Sicily and in Italy to guard the strongholds which we have proved able to capture, our army has in consequence been reduced to only five thousand men. But the enemy have come against us, gathered together to the number of one hundred and fifty thousand. And first of all, when we went out to spy upon their forces along the Tiber River and were compelled, contrary to our intention, to engage with them, we lacked only a little of being buried under a multitude of spears. And after this, when the barbarians attacked the wall with their whole army and assaulted the fortifications at every point with sundry engines of war, they came within a little of capturing both us and the city at the first onset, and they would have succeeded had not some chance snatched us from ruin. For achievements which transcend the nature of things may not properly and fittingly be ascribed to man's valour, but to a stronger power. Now all that has been achieved by us hitherto, whether it has been due to some kind fortune or to valour, is for the best; but as to our prospects from now on, I could wish better things for thy cause. However, I shall never hide from you anything that it is my duty to say and yours to do, knowing that while human affairs follow whatever course may be in accordance with God's will, yet those who are in charge of any enterprise always win praise or blame according to their own deeds. Therefore let both arms and soldiers be sent to us in such numbers that from now on we may engage with the enemy in this war with an equality of strength. For one ought not to trust everything to fortune, since fortune, on its part, is not given to following the same course forever. But do thou, O Emperor, take this thought to heart, that if at this time the barbarians win the victory over us, we shall be cast out of Italy which is thine and shall lose the army in addition, and besides all this we shall have to bear the shame, however great it may be, that attaches to our conduct. For I refrain from saying that we should also be regarded as having ruined the Romans, men who have held their safety more lightly than their loyalty to thy kingdom. Consequently, if this should happen, the result for us will be that the successes we have won thus far will in the end prove to have been but a prelude to calamities. For if it had so happened that we had been repulsed from Rome and Campania and, at a much earlier time, from Sicily, we should only be feeling the sting of the lightest of all misfortunes, that of having found ourselves unable to grow wealthy on the possessions of others. And again, this too is worthy of consideration by you, that it has never been possible even for many times ten thousand men to guard Rome for any considerable length of time, since the city embraces a large territory, and, because it is not on the sea, is shut off from all supplies. And although at the present time the Romans are well disposed toward us, yet when their troubles are prolonged, they will probably not hesitate to choose the course which is better for their own interests. For when men have entered into friendship with others on the spur of the moment, it is not while they are in evil fortune, but while they prosper, that they are accustomed to keep faith with them. Furthermore, the Romans will be compelled by hunger to do many things they would prefer not to do. Now as for me, I know I am bound even to die for thy kingdom, and for this reason no man will ever be able to remove me from this city while I live; but I beg thee to consider what kind of a fame such an end of Belisarius would bring thee." Such was the letter written by Belisarius. And the emperor, greatly distressed, began in haste to gather an army and ships, and sent orders to the troops of Valerian and Martinus[121] to proceed with all speed. For they had been sent, as it happened, with another army at about the winter solstice, with instructions to sail to Italy. But they had sailed as far as Greece, and since they were unable to force their way any farther, they were passing the winter in the land of Aetolia and Acarnania. And the Emperor Justinian sent word of all this to Belisarius, and thus filled him and all the Romans with still greater courage and confirmed their zeal. At this time it so happened that the following event took place in Naples. There was in the market-place a picture of Theoderic, the ruler of the Goths, made by means of sundry stones which were exceedingly small and tinted with nearly every colour. At one time during the life of Theoderic it had come to pass that the head of this picture fell apart, the stones as they had been set having become disarranged without having been touched by anyone, and by a coincidence Theoderic finished his life forthwith. And eight years later the stones which formed the body of the picture fell apart suddenly, and Atalaric, the grandson of Theoderic, immediately died. And after the passage of a short time, the stones about the groin fell to the ground, and Amalasuntha, the child of Theoderic, passed from the world. Now these things had already happened as described. But when the Goths began the siege of Rome, as chance would have it, the portion of the picture from the thighs to the tips of the feet fell into ruin, and thus the whole picture disappeared from the wall. And the Romans, divining the meaning of the incident, maintained that the emperor's army would be victorious in the war, thinking that the feet of Theoderic were nothing else than the Gothic people whom he ruled, and, in consequence, they became still more hopeful. In Rome, moreover, some of the patricians brought out the Sibylline oracles,[122] declaring that the danger which had come to the city would continue only up till the month of July. For it was fated that at that time someone should be appointed king over the Romans, and thenceforth Rome should have no longer any Getic peril to fear; for they say that the Goths are of the Getic race. And the oracle was as follows: "In the fifth (Quintilis) month . . . under . . . as king nothing Getic longer. . . ." And they declared that the "fifth month" was July, some because the siege began on the first day of March, from which July is the fifth month, others because March was considered the first month until the reign of Numa, the full year before that time containing ten months and our July for this reason having its name Quintilis. But after all, none of these predictions came true. For neither was a king appointed over the Romans at that time, nor was the siege destined to be broken up until a year later, and Rome was again to come into similar perils in the reign of Totila, ruler of the Goths, as will be told by me in the subsequent narrative.[123] For it seems to me that the oracle does not indicate this present attack of the barbarians, but some other attack which has either happened already or will come at some later time. Indeed, in my opinion, it is impossible for a mortal man to discover the meaning of the Sibyl's oracles before the actual event. The reason for this I shall now set forth, having read all the oracles in question. The Sibyl does not invariably mention events in their order, much less construct a well-arranged narrative, but after uttering some verse or other concerning the troubles in Libya she leaps straightway to the land of Persia, thence proceeds to mention the Romans, and then transfers the narrative to the Assyrians. And again, while uttering prophecies about the Romans, she foretells the misfortunes of the Britons. For this reason it is impossible for any man soever to comprehend the oracles of the Sibyl before the event, and it is only time itself, after the event has already come to pass and the words can be tested by experience, that can shew itself an accurate interpreter of her sayings. But as for these things, let each one reason as he desires. But I shall return to the point from which I have strayed. FOOTNOTES: [121] Leaders of foederati; see Book III. xi. 4-6; they had been recalled from Africa to Byzantium, cf. Book IV. xix. 2. [122] The story of the origin of these oracles is given in Dionysius of Halicarnassus, _Ant. Rom._ IV. lxii. They were burned with the Capitol in 83 B.C. The second collection was burned by Stilicho in 405 A.D. The oracles Procopius saw (cf. § 35 of this chapter) were therefore a third collection. [123] Book VII. xx. XXV When the Goths had been repulsed in the fight at the wall, each army bivouacked that night in the manner already described.[124] But on the following day Belisarius commanded all the Romans to remove their women and children to Naples, and also such of their domestics as they thought would not be needed by them for the guarding of the wall, his purpose being, naturally, to forestall a scarcity of provisions. And he issued orders to the soldiers to do the same thing, in case anyone had a male or female attendant. For, he went on to say, he was no longer able while besieged to provide them with food to the customary amount, but they would have to accept one half their daily ration in actual supplies, taking the remainder in silver. So they proceeded to carry out his instructions. And immediately a great throng set out for Campania. Now some, who had the good fortune to secure such boats as were lying at anchor in the harbour[125] of Rome, secured passage, but the rest went on foot by the road which is called the Appian Way. And no danger or fear, as far as the besiegers were concerned, arose to disturb either those who travelled this way on foot or those who set out from the harbour. For, on the one hand, the enemy were unable to surround the whole of Rome with their camps on account of the great size of the city, and, on the other, they did not dare to be found far from the camps in small companies, fearing the sallies of their opponents. And on this account abundant opportunity was afforded for some time to the besieged both to move out of the city and to bring provisions into it from outside. And especially at night the barbarians were always in great fear, and so they merely posted guards and remained quietly in their camps. For parties were continually issuing from the city, and especially Moors in great numbers, and whenever they found their enemies either asleep or walking about in small companies (as is accustomed to happen often in a large army, the men going out not only to attend to the needs of nature, but also to pasture horses and mules and such animals as are suitable for food), they would kill them and speedily strip them, and if perchance a larger number of the enemy should fall upon them, they would retire on the run, being men swift of foot by nature and lightly equipped, and always distancing their pursuers in the flight. Consequently, the great majority were able to withdraw from Rome, and some went to Campania, some to Sicily, and others wherever they thought it was easier or better to go. But Belisarius saw that the number of soldiers at his command was by no means sufficient for the whole circuit of the wall, for they were few, as I have previously stated,[126] and the same men could not keep guard constantly without sleeping, but some would naturally be taking their sleep while others were stationed on guard. At the same time he saw that the greatest part of the populace were hard pressed by poverty and in want of the necessities of life; for since they were men who worked with their hands, and all they had was what they got from day to day, and since they had been compelled to be idle on account of the siege, they had no means of procuring provisions. For these reasons Belisarius mingled soldiers and citizens together and distributed them to each post, appointing a certain fixed wage for an unenlisted man for each day. In this way companies were made up which were sufficient for the guarding of the wall, and the duty of keeping guard on the fortifications during a stated night was assigned to each company, and the members of the companies all took turns in standing guard. In this manner, then, Belisarius did away with the distress of both soldiers and citizens. But a suspicion arose against Silverius, the chief priest of the city, that he was engaged in treasonable negotiations with the Goths, and Belisarius sent him immediately to Greece, and a little later appointed another man, Vigilius by name, to the office of chief priest. And he banished from Rome on the same charge some of the senators, but later, when the enemy had abandoned the siege and retired, he restored them again to their homes. Among these was Maximus, whose ancestor Maximus[127] had committed the crime against the Emperor Valentinian. And fearing lest the guards at the gates should become involved in a plot, and lest someone should gain access from the outside with intent to corrupt them with money, twice in each month he destroyed all the keys and had new ones made, each time of a different design, and he also changed the guards to other posts which were far removed from those they had formerly occupied, and every night he set different men in charge of those who were doing guard-duty on the fortifications. And it was the duty of these officers to make the rounds of a section of the wall, taking turns in this work, and to write down the names of the guards, and if anyone was missing from that section, they put another man on duty in his stead for the moment, and on the morrow reported the missing man to Belisarius himself, whoever he might be, in order that the fitting punishment might be given him. And he ordered musicians to play their instruments on the fortifications at night, and he continually sent detachments of soldiers, especially Moors, outside the walls, whose duty it was always to pass the night about the moat, and he sent dogs with them in order that no one might approach the fortifications, even at a distance, without being detected. At that time some of the Romans attempted secretly to force open the doors of the temple of Janus. This Janus was the first of the ancient gods whom the Romans call in their own tongue "Penates."[128] And he has his temple in that part of the forum in front of the senate-house which lies a little above the "Tria Fata"[129]; for thus the Romans are accustomed to call the Moirai.[130] And the temple is entirely of bronze and was erected in the form of a square, but it is only large enough to cover the statue of Janus. Now this statue, is of bronze, and not less than five cubits high; in all other respects it resembles a man, but its head has two faces, one of which is turned toward the east and the other toward the west. And there are brazen doors fronting each face, which the Romans in olden times were accustomed to close in time of peace and prosperity, but when they had war they opened them. But when the Romans came to honour, as truly as any others, the teachings of the Christians, they gave up the custom of opening these doors, even when they were at war. During this siege, however, some, I suppose, who had in mind the old belief, attempted secretly to open them, but they did not succeed entirely, and moved the doors only so far that they did not close tightly against one another as formerly. And those who had attempted to do this escaped detection; and no investigation of the act was made, as was natural in a time of great confusion, since it did not become known to the commanders, nor did it reach the ears of the multitude, except of a very few. FOOTNOTES: [124] Chap. xxiii. 27. [125] At this time the town of Portus, on the north side of the Tiber's mouths, Ostia, on the south side, having been long neglected. Cf. chap. xxvi. 7, 8. [126] Five thousand; cf. chap. xxiv. 2. [127] Book III. iv. 36. [128] Janus was an old Italian divinity, whose worship was said to have been introduced by Romulus. We are not told by anyone else that he was included among the Penates, but the statement is doubtless true. [129] "This temple of Janus--the most celebrated, but not the only one in Rome--must have stood a little to the right of the Arch of Septimius Severus (as one looks toward the Capitol) and a little in front of the Mamertine Prison."--HODGKIN. The "Tria Fata" were three ancient statues of Sibyls which stood by the Rostra. [130] _i.e._ the Fates. XXVI Now Vittigis, in his anger and perplexity, first sent some of his bodyguards to Ravenna with orders to kill all the Roman senators whom he had taken there at the beginning of this war. And some of them, learning of this beforehand, succeeded in making their escape, among them being Vergentinus and Reparatus, the brother of Vigilius, the chief priest of Rome, both of whom betook themselves into Liguria and remained there; but all the rest were destroyed. After this Vittigis, seeing that the enemy were enjoying a large degree of freedom, not only in taking out of the city whatever they wished, but also in bringing in provisions both by land and by sea, decided to seize the harbour, which the Romans call "Portus." This harbour is distant from the city one hundred and twenty-six stades; for Rome lacks only so much of being on the sea; and it is situated where the Tiber River has its mouth.[131] Now as the Tiber flows down from Rome, and reaches a point rather near the sea, about fifteen stades from it, the stream divides into two parts and makes there the Sacred Island, as it is called. As the river flows on the island becomes wider, so that the measure of its breadth corresponds to its length, for the two streams have between them a distance of fifteen stades; and the Tiber remains navigable on both sides. Now the portion of the river on the right empties into the harbour, and beyond the mouth the Romans in ancient times built on the shore a city,[132] which is surrounded by an exceedingly strong wall; and it is called, like the harbour, "Portus." But on the left at the point where the other part of the Tiber empties into the sea is situated the city of Ostia, lying beyond the place where the river-bank ends, a place of great consequence in olden times, but now entirely without walls. Moreover, the Romans at the very beginning made a road leading from Portus to Rome, which was smooth and presented no difficulty of any kind. And many barges are always anchored in the harbour ready for service, and no small number of oxen stand in readiness close by. Now when the merchants reach the harbour with their ships, they unload their cargoes and place them in the barges, and sail by way of the Tiber to Rome; but they do not use sails or oars at all, for the boats cannot be propelled in the stream by any wind since the river winds about exceedingly and does not follow a straight course, nor can oars be employed, either, since the force of the current is always against them. Instead of using such means, therefore, they fasten ropes from the barges to the necks of oxen, and so draw them just like waggons up to Rome. But on the other side of the river, as one goes from the city of Ostia to Rome, the road is shut in by woods and in general lies neglected, and is not even near the bank of the Tiber, since there is no towing of barges on that road. So the Goths, finding the city at the harbour unguarded, captured it at the first onset and slew many of the Romans who lived there, and so took possession of the harbour as well as the city. And they established a thousand of their number there as guards, while the remainder returned to the camps. In consequence of this move it was impossible for the besieged to bring in the goods which came by sea, except by way of Ostia, a route which naturally involved great labour and danger besides. For the Roman ships were not even able to put in there any longer, but they anchored at Anthium,[133] a day's journey distant from Ostia. And they found great difficulty in carrying the cargoes thence to Rome, the reason for this being the scarcity of men. For Belisarius, fearing for the fortifications of Rome, had been unable to strengthen the harbour with any garrison at all, though I think that if even three hundred men had been on guard there, the barbarians would never have made an attempt on the place, which is exceedingly strong. FOOTNOTES: [131] The northern mouth. [132] The Emperor Claudius cut the northern channel for the river, in order to prevent inundations of Rome, and made the "Portus Claudii," opening to the sea, near its mouth; a second enclosed harbour, adjoining that of Claudius, was built by Trajan. [133] _i.e._ Antium. XXVII This exploit, then, was accomplished by the Goths on the third day after they were repulsed in the assault on the wall. But twenty days after the city and harbour of Portus were captured, Martinus and Valerian arrived, bringing with them sixteen hundred horsemen, the most of whom were Huns and Sclaveni[134] and Antae,[135] who are settled above the Ister River not far from its banks. And Belisarius was pleased by their coming and thought that thenceforth his army ought to carry the war against the enemy. On the following day, accordingly, he commanded one of his own bodyguards, Trajan by name, an impetuous and active fighter, to take two hundred horsemen of the guards and go straight towards the enemy, and as soon as they came near the camps to go up on a high hill (which he pointed out to him) and remain quietly there. And if the enemy should come against them, he was not to allow the battle to come to close quarters, nor to touch sword or spear in any case, but to use bows only, and as soon as he should find that his quiver had no more arrows in it, he was to flee as hard as he could with no thought of shame and retire to the fortifications on the run. Having given these instructions, he held in readiness both the engines for shooting arrows and the men skilled in their use. Then Trajan with the two hundred men went out from the Salarian Gate against the camp of the enemy. And they, being filled with amazement at the suddenness of the thing, rushed out from the camps, each man equipping himself as well as he could. But the men under Trajan galloped to the top of the hill which Belisarius had shewn them, and from there began to ward off the barbarians with missiles. And since their shafts fell among a dense throng, they were for the most part successful in hitting a man or a horse. But when all their missiles had at last failed them, they rode off to the rear with all speed, and the Goths kept pressing upon them in pursuit. But when they came near the fortifications, the operators of the engines began to shoot arrows from them, and the barbarians became terrified and abandoned the pursuit. And it is said that not less than one thousand Goths perished in this action. A few days later Belisarius sent Mundilas, another of his own bodyguard, and Diogenes, both exceptionally capable warriors, with three hundred guardsmen, commanding them to do the same thing as the others had done before. And they acted according to his instructions. Then, when the enemy confronted them, the result of the encounter was that no fewer than in the former action, perhaps even more, perished in the same way. And sending even a third time the guardsman Oilas with three hundred horsemen, with instructions to handle the enemy in the same way, he accomplished the same result. So in making these three sallies, in the manner told by me, Belisarius destroyed about four thousand of his antagonists. But Vittigis, failing to take into account the difference between the two armies in point of equipment of arms and of practice in warlike deeds, thought that he too would most easily inflict grave losses upon the enemy, if only he should make his attack upon them with a small force. He therefore sent five hundred horsemen, commanding them to go close to the fortifications, and to make a demonstration against the whole army of the enemy of the very same tactics as had time and again been used against them, to their sorrow, by small bands of the foe. And so, when they came to a high place not far from the city, but just beyond the range of missiles, they took their stand there. But Belisarius selected a thousand men, putting Bessas in command, and ordered them to engage with the enemy. And this force, by forming a circle around the enemy and always shooting at them from behind, killed a large number, and by pressing hard upon the rest compelled them to descend into the plain. There a hand-to-hand battle took place between forces not evenly matched in strength, and most of the Goths were destroyed, though some few with difficulty made their escape and returned to their own camp. And Vittigis reviled these men, insisting that cowardice had been the cause of their defeat, and undertaking to find another set of men to retrieve the loss after no long time, he remained quiet for the present; but three days later he selected men from all the camps, five hundred in number, and bade them make a display of valorous deeds against the enemy. Now as soon as Belisarius saw that these men had come rather near, he sent out against them fifteen hundred men under the commanders Martinus and Valerian. And a cavalry battle taking place immediately, the Romans, being greatly superior to the enemy in numbers, routed them without any trouble and destroyed practically all of them. And to the enemy it seemed in every way a dreadful thing and a proof that fortune stood against them, if, when they were many and the enemy who came against them were few, they were defeated, and when, on the other hand, they in turn went in small numbers against their enemy, they were likewise destroyed. Belisarius, however, received a public vote of praise from the Romans for his wisdom, at which they not unnaturally marvelled greatly, but in private his friends asked him on what he had based his judgment on that day when he had escaped from the enemy after being so completely defeated,[136] and why he had been confident that he would overcome them decisively in the war. And he said that in engaging with them at the first with only a few men he had noticed just what the difference was between the two armies, so that if he should fight his battles with them with a force which was in strength proportionate to theirs,[137] the multitudes of the enemy could inflict no injury upon the Romans by reason of the smallness of their numbers. And the difference was this, that practically all the Romans and their allies, the Huns, are good mounted bowmen, but not a man among the Goths has had practice in this branch, for their horsemen are accustomed to use only spears and swords, while their bowmen enter battle on foot and under cover of the heavy-armed men. So the horsemen, unless the engagement is at close quarters, have no means of defending themselves against opponents who use the bow, and therefore can easily be reached by the arrows and destroyed; and as for the foot-soldiers, they can never be strong enough to make sallies against men on horseback. It was for these reasons, Belisarius declared, that the barbarians had been defeated by the Romans in these last engagements. And the Goths, remembering the unexpected outcome of their own experiences, desisted thereafter from assaulting the fortifications of Rome in small numbers and also from pursuing the enemy when harassed by them, except only so far as to drive them back from their own camps. FOOTNOTES: [134] _i.e._ Slavonians, described in Book VI. xxvi. and Book VII. xiv. ff. [135] A Slavic people, described in Book VII. xiv. [136] Referring to the battle described in chap. xviii. [137] _i.e._ smaller, but equal in strength. XXVIII But later on the Romans, elated by the good fortune they had already enjoyed, were with one accord eager to do battle with the whole Gothic army and thought that they should make war in the open field. Belisarius, however, considering that the difference in size of the two armies was still very great, continued to be reluctant to risk a decisive battle with his whole army; and so he busied himself still more with his sallies and kept planning them against the enemy. But when at last he yielded his point because of the abuse heaped upon him by the army and the Romans in general, though he was willing to fight with the whole army, yet nevertheless he wished to open the engagement by a sudden sally. And many times he was frustrated when he was on the point of doing this, and was compelled to put off the attack to the following day, because he found to his surprise that the enemy had been previously informed by deserters as to what was to be done and were unexpectedly ready for him. For this reason, then, he was now willing to fight a decisive battle even in the open field, and the barbarians gladly came forth for the encounter. And when both sides had been made ready for the conflict as well as might be, Belisarius gathered his whole army and exhorted them as follows: "It is not because I detected any cowardice on your part, fellow-soldiers, nor because I was terrified at the strength of the enemy, that I have shrunk from the engagement with them, but I saw that while we were carrying on the war by making sudden sallies matters stood well with us, and consequently I thought that we ought to adhere permanently to the tactics which were responsible for our success. For I think that when one's present affairs are going to one's satisfaction, it is inexpedient to change to another course of action. But since I see that you are eager for this danger, I am filled with confidence and shall never oppose your ardour. For I know that the greatest factor in the decision of war is always the attitude of the fighting men, and it is generally by their enthusiasm that successes are won. Now, therefore, the fact that a few men drawn up for battle with valour on their side are able to overcome a multitude of the enemy, is well known by every man of you, not by hearsay, but by daily experience of fighting. And it will rest with you not to bring shame upon the former glories of my career as general, nor upon the hope which this enthusiasm of yours inspires. For the whole of what has already been accomplished by us in this war must of necessity be judged in accordance with the issue of the present day. And I see that the present moment is also in our favour, for it will, in all probability, make it easier for us to gain the mastery over the enemy, because their spirit has been enslaved by what has gone before. For when men have often met with misfortune, their hearts are no longer wont to thrill even slightly with manly valour. And let no one of you spare horse or bow or any weapon. For I will immediately provide you with others in place of all that are destroyed in the battle." After speaking these words of exhortation, Belisarius led out his army through the small Pincian Gate and the Salarian Gate, and commanded some few men to go through the Aurelian Gate into the Plain of Nero. These he put under the command of Valentinus, a commander of a cavalry detachment, and he directed him not to begin any fighting, or to go too close to the camp of the enemy, but constantly to give the appearance of being about to attack immediately, so that none of the enemy in that quarter might be able to cross the neighbouring bridge and come to the assistance of the soldiers from the other camps. For since, as I have previously stated,[138] the barbarians encamped in the Plain of Nero were many, it seemed to him sufficient if these should all be prevented from taking part in the engagement and be kept separated from the rest of the army. And when some of the Roman populace took up arms and followed as volunteers, he would not allow them to be drawn up for battle along with the regular troops, fearing lest, when they came to actual fighting, they should become terrified at the danger and throw the entire army into confusion, since they were labouring men and altogether unpractised in war. But outside the Pancratian Gate, which is beyond the Tiber River, he ordered them to form a phalanx and remain quiet until he himself should give the signal, reasoning, as actually proved to be the case, that if the enemy in the Plain of Nero should see both them and the men under Valentinus, they would never dare leave their camp and enter battle with the rest of the Gothic army against his own forces. And he considered it a stroke of good luck and a very important advantage that such a large number of men should be kept apart from the army of his opponents. Such being the situation, he wished on that day to engage in a cavalry battle only; and indeed most of the regular infantry were now unwilling to remain in their accustomed condition, but, since they had captured horses as booty from the enemy and had become not unpractised in horsemanship, they were now mounted. And since the infantry were few in number and unable even to make a phalanx of any consequence, and had never had the courage to engage with the barbarians, but always turned to flight at the first onset, he considered it unsafe to draw them up at a distance from the fortifications, but thought it best that they should remain in position where they were, close by the moat, his purpose being that, if it should so happen that the Roman horsemen were routed, they should be able to receive the fugitives and, as a fresh body of men, help them to ward off the enemy. But there were two men among his bodyguards, a certain Principius, who was a man of note and a Pisidian by birth, and Tarmutus, an Isaurian, brother of Ennes who was commander of the Isaurians. These men came before Belisarius and spoke as follows: "Most excellent of generals, we beg you neither to decide that your army, small as it is and about to fight with many tens of thousands of barbarians, be cut off from the phalanx of the infantry, nor to think that one ought to treat with contumely the infantry of the Romans, by means of which, as we hear, the power of the ancient Romans was brought to its present greatness. For if it so happens that they have done nothing of consequence in this war, this is no evidence of the cowardice of the soldiers, but it is the commanders of the infantry who would justly bear the blame, for they alone ride on horseback in the battle-line and are not willing to consider the fortunes of war as shared by all, but as a general thing each one of them by himself takes to flight before the struggle begins. But do you keep all the commanders of infantry, since you see that they have become cavalry and that they are quite unwilling to take their stand beside their subordinates, and include them with the rest of the cavalry and so enter this battle, but permit us to lead the infantry into the combat. For since we also are unmounted, as are these troops, we shall do our part in helping them to support the attack of the multitude of barbarians, full of hope that we shall inflict upon the enemy whatever chastisement God shall permit." When Belisarius heard this request, at first he did not assent to it; for he was exceedingly fond of these two men, who were fighters of marked excellence, and he was unwilling to have a small body of infantry take such a risk. But finally, overborne by the eagerness of the men, he consented to leave only a small number of their soldiers, in company with the Roman populace, to man the gates and the battlement along the top of the wall where the engines of war were, and to put the rest under command of Principius and Tarmutus, ordering them to take position in the rear in regular formation. His purpose in this was, in the first place, to keep these troops from throwing the rest of the army into confusion if they themselves should become panic-stricken at the danger, and, in the second place, in case any division of the cavalry should be routed at any time, to prevent the retreat from extending to an indefinite distance, but to allow the cavalry simply to fall back upon the infantry and make it possible for them, with the infantry's help, to ward off the pursuers. FOOTNOTE: [138] Chap. xix. 12, xiii. 15. XXIX In this fashion the Romans had made their preparations for the encounter. As for Vittigis, he had armed all the Goths, leaving not a man behind in the camps, except those unfit for fighting. And he commanded the men under Marcias to remain in the Plain of Nero, and to attend to the guarding of the bridge, that the enemy might not attack his men from that direction. He himself then called together the rest of the army and spoke as follows: "It may perhaps seem to some of you that I am fearful about my sovereignty, and that this is the motive which has led me, in the past, to shew a friendly spirit toward you and, on the present occasion, to address you with seductive words in order to inspire you with courage. And such reasoning is not out of accord with the ways of men. For unenlightened men are accustomed to shew gentleness toward those whom they want to make use of, even though these happen to be in a much humbler station than they, but to be difficult of access to others whose assistance they do not desire. As for me, however, I care neither for the end of life nor for the loss of power. Nay, I should even pray that I might put off this purple to-day, if a Goth were to put it on. And I have always regarded the end of Theodatus as one of the most fortunate, in that he was privileged to lose both his sovereignty and his life at the hands of men of his own nation. For a calamity which falls upon an individual without involving his nation also in destruction does not lack an element of consolation, in the view, at least, of men who are not wanting in wisdom. But when I reflect upon the fate of the Vandals and the end of Gelimer, the thoughts which come to my mind are of no ordinary kind; nay, I seem to see the Goths and their children reduced to slavery, your wives ministering in the most shameful of all ways to the most hateful of men, and myself and the granddaughter[139] of Theoderic led wherever it suits the pleasure of those who are now our enemies; and I would have you also enter this battle fearing lest this fate befall us. For if you do this, on the field of battle you will count the end of life as more to be desired than safety after defeat. For noble men consider that there is only one misfortune--to survive defeat at the hands of their enemy. But as for death, and especially death which comes quickly, it always brings happiness to those who were before not blest by fortune. It is very clear that if you keep these thoughts in mind as you go through the present engagement, you will not only conquer your opponents most easily, few as they are and Greeks,[140] but will also punish them forthwith for the injustice and insolence with which they, without provocation, have treated us. For although we boast that we are their superiors in valour, in numbers, and in every other respect, the boldness which they feel in confronting us is due merely to elation at our misfortunes; and the only asset they have is the indifference we have shewn. For their self-confidence is fed by their undeserved good fortune." With these words of exhortation Vittigis proceeded to array his army for battle, stationing the infantry in the centre and the cavalry on the two wings. He did not, however, draw up his phalanx far from the camps, but very near them, in order that, as soon as the rout should take place, the enemy might easily be overtaken and killed, there being abundance of room for the pursuit. For he expected that if the struggle should become a pitched battle in the plain, they would not withstand him even a short time; since he judged by the great disparity of numbers that the army of the enemy was no match for his own. So the soldiers on both sides, beginning in the early morning, opened battle; and Vittigis and Belisarius were in the rear urging on both armies and inciting them to fortitude. And at first the Roman arms prevailed, and the barbarians kept falling in great numbers before their archery, but no pursuit of them was made. For since the Gothic cavalry stood in dense masses, other men very easily stepped into the places of those who were killed, and so the loss of those who fell among them was in no way apparent. And the Romans evidently were satisfied, in view of their very small number, that the struggle should have such a result for them. So after they had by midday carried the battle as far as the camps of their opponents, and had already slain many of the enemy, they were anxious to return to the city if any pretext should present itself to them. In this part of the action three among the Romans proved themselves brave men above all others, Athenodorus, an Isaurian, a man of fair fame among the guards of Belisarius, and Theodoriscus and George, spearmen of Martinus and Cappadocians by birth. For they constantly kept going out beyond the front of the phalanx, and there despatched many of the barbarians with their spears. Such was the course of events here. But in the Plain of Nero the two armies remained for a long time facing one another, and the Moors, by making constant sallies and hurling their javelins among the enemy, kept harrying the Goths. For the Goths were quite unwilling to go out against them through fear of the forces of the Roman populace which were not far away, thinking, of course, that they were soldiers and were remaining quiet because they had in mind some sort of an ambush against themselves with the object of getting in their rear, exposing them to attack on both sides, and thus destroying them. But when it was now the middle of the day, the Roman army suddenly made a rush against the enemy, and the Goths were unexpectedly routed, being paralyzed by the suddenness of the attack. And they did not succeed even in fleeing to their camp, but climbed the hills near by and remained quiet. Now the Romans, though many in number, were not all soldiers, but were for the most part a throng of men without defensive armour. For inasmuch as the general was elsewhere, many sailors and servants in the Roman camp, in their eagerness to have a share in the war, mingled with that part of the army. And although by their mere numbers they did fill the barbarians with consternation and turn them to flight, as has been said, yet by reason of their lack of order they lost the day for the Romans. For the intermixture of the above-mentioned men caused the soldiers to be thrown into great disorder, and although Valentinus kept constantly shouting orders to them, they could not hear his commands at all. For this reason they did not even follow up the fugitives or kill a man, but allowed them to stand at rest on the hills and in security to view what was going on. Nor did they take thought to destroy the bridge there, and thus prevent the city from being afterwards besieged on both sides; for, had they done so, the barbarians would have been unable to encamp any longer on the farther side of the Tiber River. Furthermore, they did not even cross the bridge and get in the rear of their opponents who were fighting there with the troops of Belisarius. And if this had been done, the Goths, I think, would no longer have thought of resistance, but they would have turned instantly to flight, each man as he could. But as it was, they took possession of the enemy's camp and turned to plundering his goods, and they set to work carrying thence many vessels of silver and many other valuables. Meanwhile the barbarians for some time remained quietly where they were and observed what was going on, but finally by common consent they advanced against their opponents with great fury and shouting. And finding men in complete disorder engaged in plundering their property, they slew many and quickly drove out the rest. For all who were caught inside the camp and escaped slaughter were glad to cast their plunder from their shoulders and take to flight. While these things were taking place in the Plain of Nero, meantime the rest of the barbarian army stayed very near their camps and, protecting themselves with their shields, vigorously warded off their opponents, destroying many men and a much larger number of horses. But on the Roman side, when those who had been wounded and those whose horses had been killed left the ranks, then, in an army which had been small even before, the smallness of their numbers was still more evident, and the difference between them and the Gothic host was manifestly great. Finally the horsemen of the barbarians who were on the right wing, taking note of this, advanced at a gallop against the enemy opposite them. And the Romans there, unable to withstand their spears, rushed off in flight and came to the infantry phalanx. However, the infantry also were unable to hold their ground against the oncoming horsemen, and most of them began to join the cavalry in flight. And immediately the rest of the Roman army also began to retire, the enemy pressing upon their heels, and the rout became decisive. But Principius and Tarmutus with some few of the infantry of their command made a display of valorous deeds against the Goths. For as they continued to fight and disdained to turn to flight with the others, most of the Goths were so amazed that they halted. And consequently the rest of the infantry and most of the horsemen made their escape in greater security. Now Principius fell where he stood, his whole body hacked to pieces, and around him fell forty-two foot-soldiers. But Tarmutus, holding two Isaurian javelins, one in each hand, continued to thrust them into his assailants as he turned from side to side, until, finally, he desisted because his body was covered with wounds; but when his brother Ennes came to the rescue with a detachment of cavalry, he revived, and running swiftly, covered as he was with gore and wounds, he made for the fortifications without throwing down either of his javelins. And being fleet of foot by nature, he succeeded in making his escape, in spite of the plight of his body, and did not fall until he had just reached the Pincian Gate. And some of his comrades, supposing him to be dead, lifted him on a shield and carried him. But he lived on two days before he died, leaving a high reputation both among the Isaurians and in the rest of the army. The Romans, meanwhile, being by now thoroughly frightened, attended to the guarding of the wall, and shutting the gates they refused, in their great excitement, to receive the fugitives into the city, fearing that the enemy would rush in with them. And such of the fugitives as had not already got inside the fortifications, crossed the moat, and standing with their backs braced against the wall were trembling with fear, and stood there forgetful of all valour and utterly unable to ward off the barbarians, although they were pressing upon them and were about to cross the moat to attack them. And the reason was that most of them had lost their spears, which had been broken in the engagement and during the flight, and they were not able to use their bows because they were huddled so closely together. Now so long as not many defenders were seen at the battlement, the Goths kept pressing on, having hopes of destroying all those who had been shut out and of overpowering the men who held the circuit-wall. But when they saw a very great number both of soldiers and of the Roman populace at the battlements defending the wall, they immediately abandoned their purpose and rode off thence to the rear, heaping much abuse upon their opponents. And the battle, having begun at the camps of the barbarians, ended at the moat and the wall of the city. FOOTNOTES: [139] Matasuntha. [140] Cf. Book IV. xxvii. 38, note. HISTORY OF THE WARS: BOOK VI THE GOTHIC WAR (_continued_) I After this the Romans no longer dared risk a battle with their whole army; but they engaged in cavalry battles, making sudden sallies in the same manner as before, and were generally victorious over the barbarians. Foot-soldiers also went out from both sides, not, however, arrayed in a phalanx, but accompanying the horsemen. And once Bessas in the first rush dashed in among the enemy carrying his spear and killed three of their best horsemen and turned the rest to flight. And another time, when Constantinus had led out the Huns in the Plain of Nero in the late afternoon, and saw that they were being overpowered by the superior numbers of their opponents, he took the following measures. There has been in that place from of old a great stadium[141] where the gladiators of the city used to fight in former times, and the men of old built many other buildings round about this stadium; consequently there are, as one would expect, narrow passages all about this place. Now on the occasion in question, since Constantinus could neither overcome the throng of the Goths nor flee without great danger, he caused all the Huns to dismount from their horses, and on foot, in company with them, took his stand in one of the narrow passages there. Then by shooting from that safe position they slew large numbers of the enemy. And for some time the Goths withstood their missiles. For they hoped, as soon as the supply of missiles in the quivers of the Huns should be exhausted, to be able to surround them without any trouble, take them prisoners, and lead them back to their camp. But since the Massagetae, who were not only good bowmen but also had a dense throng to shoot into, hit an enemy with practically every shot, the Goths perceived that above half their number had perished, and since the sun was about to set, they knew not what to do and so rushed off in flight. Then indeed many of them fell; for the Massagetae followed them up, and since they know how to shoot the bow with the greatest accuracy even when running at great speed, they continued to discharge their arrows no less than before, shooting at their backs, and kept up the slaughter. And thus Constantinus with his Huns came back to Rome at night. And when Peranius, not many days later, led some of the Romans through the Salarian Gate against the enemy, the Goths, indeed, fled as hard as they could, but about sunset a counter-pursuit was made suddenly, and a Roman foot-soldier, becoming greatly confused, fell into a deep hole, many of which were made there by the men of old, for the storage of grain, I suppose. And he did not dare to cry out, supposing that the enemy were encamped near by, and was not able in any way whatever to get out of the pit, for it afforded no means of climbing up; he was therefore compelled to pass the night there. Now on the next day, when the barbarians had again been put to flight, one of the Goths fell into the same hole. And there the two men were reconciled to mutual friendship and good-will, brought together as they were by their necessity, and they exchanged solemn pledges, each that he would work earnestly for the salvation of the other; and then both of them began shouting with loud and frantic cries. Now the Goths, following the sound, came and peered over the edge of the hole, and enquired who it was who shouted. At this, the Roman, in accordance with the plan decided upon by the two men, kept silence, and the Goth in his native tongue said that he had just recently fallen in there during the rout which had taken place, and asked them to let down a rope that he might come up. And they as quickly as possible threw down the ends of ropes, and, as they thought, were pulling up the Goth, but the Roman laid hold of the ropes and was pulled up, saying only that if he should go up first the Goths would never abandon their comrade, but if they should learn that merely one of the enemy was there they would take no account of him. So saying, he went up. And when the Goths saw him, they wondered and were in great perplexity, but upon hearing the whole story from him they drew up his comrade next, and he told them of the agreement they had made and of the pledges both had given. So he went off with his companions, and the Roman was released unharmed and permitted to return to the city. After this horsemen in no great numbers armed themselves many times for battle, but the struggles always ended in single combats, and the Romans were victorious in all of them. Such, then, was the course of these events. A little after this an engagement took place in the Plain of Nero, wherein various small groups of horsemen were engaged in pursuing their opponents in various directions; in one group was Chorsamantis, a man of note among the guards of Belisarius, by birth a Massagete, who with some others was pursuing seventy of the enemy. And when he had got well out in the plain the other Romans rode back, but Chorsamantis went on with the pursuit alone. As soon as the Goths perceived this, they turned their horses about and came against him. And he advanced into their midst, killed one of the best of them with his spear, and then went after the others, but they again turned and rushed off in flight. But they were ashamed before their comrades in the camp, who, they suspected, could already see them, and wished to attack him again. They had, however, precisely the same experience as before and lost one of their best men, and so turned to flight in spite of their shame, and after Chorsamantis had pursued them as far as their stockade he returned alone. And a little later, in another battle, this man was wounded in the left shin, and it was his opinion that the weapon had merely grazed the bone. However, he was rendered unfit for fighting for a certain number of days by reason of this wound, and since he was a barbarian he did not endure this patiently, but threatened that he would right speedily have vengeance upon the Goths for this insult to his leg. So when not long afterwards he had recovered and was drunk at lunch time, as was his custom, he purposed to go alone against the enemy and avenge the insult to his leg; and when he had come to the small Pincian Gate he stated that he was sent by Belisarius to the enemy's camp. And the guards at the gate, who could not doubt the word of a man who was the best of the guards of Belisarius, opened the gates and allowed him to go wherever he would. And when the enemy spied him, they thought at first that some deserter was coming over to them, but when he came near and put his hand to his bow, twenty men, not knowing who he might be, went out against him. These he easily drove off, and then began to ride back at a walk, and when more Goths came against him he did not flee. But when a great throng gathered about him and he still insisted upon fighting them, the Romans, watching the sight from the towers, suspected that the man was crazy, but they did not yet know that it was Chorsamantis. At length, after making a display of great and very noteworthy deeds, he found himself surrounded by the army of the enemy, and paid the penalty for his unreasonable daring. And when Belisarius and the Roman army learned this, they mourned greatly, lamenting that the hope which all placed in the man had come to naught. FOOTNOTES: [141] Perhaps the Stadium of Caligula. II Now a certain Euthalius, at about the spring equinox, came to Taracina from Byzantium with the money which the emperor owed the soldiers. And fearing lest the enemy should come upon him on the road and both rob him of the money and kill him, he wrote to Belisarius requesting him to make the journey to Rome safe for him. Belisarius accordingly selected one hundred men of note from among his own bodyguards and sent them with two spearmen to Taracina to assist him in bringing the money. And at the same time he kept trying to make the barbarians believe that he was about to fight with his whole army, his purpose being to prevent any of the enemy from leaving the vicinity, either to bring in provisions or for any other purpose. But when he found out that Euthalius and his men would arrive on the morrow, he arrayed his army and set it in order for battle, and the barbarians were in readiness. Now throughout the whole forenoon he merely held his soldiers near the gates; for he knew that Euthalius and those who accompanied him would arrive at night. Then, at midday, he commanded the army to take their lunch, and the Goths did the same thing, supposing that he was putting off the engagement to the following day. A little later, however, Belisarius sent Martinus and Valerian to the Plain of Nero with the troops under their command, directing them to throw the enemy's camp into the greatest possible confusion. And from the small Pincian Gate he sent out six hundred horsemen against the camps of the barbarians, placing them under command of three of his own spearmen, Artasires, a Persian, and Bochas, of the race of the Massagetae, and Cutilas, a Thracian. And many of the enemy came out to meet them. For a long time, however, the battle did not come to close quarters, but each side kept retreating when the other advanced and making pursuits in which they quickly turned back, until it looked as if they intended to spend the rest of the day at this sort of thing. But as they continued, they began at last to be filled with rage against each other. The battle then settled down to a fierce struggle in which many of the best men on both sides fell, and support came up for each of the two armies, both from the city and from the camps. And when these fresh troops were mingled with the fighters the struggle became still greater. And the shouting which filled the city and the camps terrified the combatants. But finally the Romans by their valour forced back the enemy and routed them. In this action Cutilas was struck in the middle of the head by a javelin, and he kept on pursuing with the javelin still embedded in his head. And after the rout had taken place, he rode into the city at about sunset together with the other survivors, the javelin in his head waving about, a most extraordinary sight. During the same encounter Arzes, one of the guards of Belisarius, was hit by one of the Gothic archers between the nose and the right eye. And the point of the arrow penetrated as far as the neck behind, but it did not shew through, and the rest of the shaft projected from his face and shook as the man rode. And when the Romans saw him and Cutilas they marvelled greatly that both men continued to ride, paying no heed to their hurt. Such, then, was the course of events in that quarter. But in the Plain of Nero the barbarians had the upper hand. For the men of Valerian and Martinus, fighting with a great multitude of the enemy, withstood them stoutly, to be sure, but suffered most terribly, and came into exceedingly great danger. And then Belisarius commanded Bochas to take his troops, which had returned from the engagement unwearied, men as well as horses, and go to the Plain of Nero. Now it was already late in the day. And when the men under Bochas had come to the assistance of the Romans, suddenly the barbarians were turned to flight, and Bochas, who had impetuously followed the pursuit to a great distance, came to be surrounded by twelve of the enemy, who carried spears. And they all struck him at once with their spears. But his corselet withstood the other blows, which therefore did not hurt him much; but one of the Goths succeeded in hitting him from behind, at a place where his body was uncovered, above the right armpit, very close to the shoulder, and smote the youth, though not with a mortal stroke, nor even one which brought him into danger of death. But another Goth struck him in front and pierced his left thigh, and cut the muscles there; it was not a straight blow, however, but only a slanting cut. But Valerian and Martinus saw what was happening, and coming to his rescue as quickly as possible, they routed the enemy, and both took hold of the bridle of Bochas' horse, and so came into the city. Then night came on and Euthalius entered the city with the money. And when all had returned to the city, they attended to the wounded men. Now in the case of Arzes, though the physicians wished to draw the weapon from his face, they were for some time reluctant to do so, not so much on account of the eye, which they supposed could not possibly be saved, but for fear lest, by the cutting of membranes and tissues such as are very numerous in that region, they should cause the death of a man who was one of the best of the household of Belisarius. But afterwards one of the physicians, Theoctistus by name, pressed on the back of his neck and asked whether he felt much pain. And when the man said that he did feel pain, he said, "Then both you yourself will be saved and your sight will not be injured." And he made this declaration because he inferred that the barb of the weapon had penetrated to a point not far from the skin. Accordingly he cut off that part of the shaft which shewed outside and threw it away, and cutting open the skin at the back of the head, at the place where the man felt the most pain, he easily drew toward him the barb, which with its three sharp points now stuck out behind and brought with it the remaining portion of the weapon. Thus Arzes remained entirely free from serious harm, and not even a trace of his wound was left on his face. But as for Cutilas, when the javelin was drawn rather violently from his head (for it was very deeply embedded), he fell into a swoon. And since the membranes about the wound began to be inflamed, he fell a victim to phrenitis[142] and died not long afterwards. Bochas, however, immediately had a very severe hemorrhage in the thigh, and seemed like one who was presently to die. And the reason for the hemorrhage, according to what the physicians said, was that the blow had severed the muscle, not directly from the front, but by a slanting cut. In any event he died three days later. Because of these things, then, the Romans spent that whole night in deep grief; while from the Gothic camps were heard many sounds of wailing and loud lamentation. And the Romans indeed wondered, because they thought that no calamity of any consequence had befallen the enemy on the previous day, except, to be sure, that no small number of them had perished in the encounters. This had happened to them before in no less degree, perhaps even to a greater degree, but it had not greatly distressed them, so great were their numbers. However, it was learned on the following day that men of the greatest note from the camp in the Plain of Nero were being bewailed by the Goths, men whom Bochas had killed in his first charge. And other encounters also, though of no great importance, took place, which it has seemed to me unnecessary to chronicle. This, however, I will state, that altogether sixty-seven encounters occurred during this siege, besides two final ones which will be described in the following narrative. And at that time the winter drew to its close, and thus ended the second year of this war, the history of which Procopius has written. FOOTNOTE: [142] Inflammation of the brain. III But at the beginning of the spring equinox famine and pestilence together fell upon the inhabitants of the city. There was still, it is true, some grain for the soldiers, though no other kind of provisions, but the grain-supply of the rest of the Romans had been exhausted, and actual famine as well as pestilence was pressing hard upon them. And the Goths, perceiving this, no longer cared to risk a decisive battle with their enemy, but they kept guard that nothing in future should be brought in to them. Now there are two aqueducts between the Latin and the Appian Ways, exceedingly high and carried on arches for a great distance. These two aqueducts meet at a place fifty stades distant from Rome[143] and cross each other, so that for a little space they reverse their relative position. For the one which previously lay to the right from then on continues on the left side. And again coming together, they resume their former places, and thereafter remain apart. Consequently the space between them, enclosed, as it is, by the aqueducts, comes to be a fortress. And the barbarians walled up the lower arches of the aqueducts here with stones and mud and in this way gave it the form of a fort, and encamping there to the number of no fewer than seven thousand men, they kept guard that no provisions should thereafter be brought into the city by the enemy. Then indeed every hope of better things abandoned the Romans, and every form of evil encompassed them round about. As long as there was ripe grain, however, the most daring of the soldiers, led on by lust of money, went by night to the grain-fields not far from the city mounted on horses and leading other horses after them. Then they cut off the heads of grain, and putting them on the horses which they led, would carry them into the city without being seen by the enemy and sell them at a great price to such of the Romans as were wealthy. But the other inhabitants lived on various herbs such as grow in abundance not only in the outskirts but also inside the fortifications. For the land of the Romans is never lacking in herbs either in winter or at any other season, but they always flourish and grow luxuriantly at all times. Wherefore the besieged also pastured their horses in those places. And some too made sausages of the mules that died in Rome and secretly sold them. But when the corn-lands had no more grain and all the Romans had come into an exceedingly evil plight, they surrounded Belisarius and tried to compel him to stake everything on a single battle with the enemy, promising that not one of the Romans would be absent from the engagement. And when he was at a loss what to do in that situation and greatly distressed, some of the populace spoke to him as follows: "General, we were not prepared for the fortune which has overtaken us at the present time; on the contrary, what has happened has been altogether the opposite of our expectations. For after achieving what we had formerly set our hearts upon, we have now come into the present misfortune, and we realize at length that our previous opinion that we did well to crave the emperor's watchful care was but folly and the beginning of the greatest evils. Indeed, this course has brought us to such straits that at the present time we have taken courage to use force once more and to arm ourselves against the barbarians. And while we may claim forgiveness if we boldly come into the presence of Belisarius--for the belly knows not shame when it lacks its necessities--our plight must be the apology for our rashness; for it will be readily agreed that there is no plight more intolerable for men than a life prolonged amid the adversities of fortune. And as to the fortune which has fallen upon us, you cannot fail to see our distress. These fields and the whole country have fallen under the hand of the enemy; and this city has been shut off from all good things for we know not how long a time. And as for the Romans, some already lie in death, and it has not been their portion to be hidden in the earth, and we who survive, to put all our terrible misfortunes in a word, only pray to be placed beside those who lie thus. For starvation shews to those upon whom it comes that all other evils can be endured, and wherever it appears it is attended by oblivion of all other sufferings, and causes all other forms of death, except that which proceeds from itself, to seem pleasant to men. Now, therefore, before the evil has yet mastered us, grant us leave on our own behalf to take up the struggle, which will result either in our overcoming the enemy or in deliverance from our troubles. For when delay brings men hope of safety, it would be great folly for them prematurely to enter into a danger which involves their all, but when tarrying makes the struggle more difficult, to put off action even for a little time is more reprehensible than immediate and precipitate haste." So spoke the Romans. And Belisarius replied as follows: "Well, as for me, I have been quite prepared for your conduct in every respect, and nothing that has happened has been contrary to my expectation. For long have I known that a populace is a most unreasoning thing, and that by its very nature it cannot endure the present or provide for the future, but only knows how rashly in every case to attempt the impossible and recklessly to destroy itself. But as for me, I shall never, willingly at least, be led by your carelessness either to destroy you or to involve the emperor's cause in ruin with you. For war is wont to be brought to a successful issue, not by unreasoning haste, but by the use of good counsel and forethought in estimating the turn of the scale at decisive moments. You, however, act as though you were playing at dice, and want to risk all on a single cast; but it is not my custom to choose the short course in preference to the advantageous one. In the second place, you promise that you will help us do battle against the enemy; but when have you ever taken training in war? Or who that has learned such things by the use of arms does not know that battle affords no room for experiment? Nor does the enemy, on his part, give opportunity, while the struggle is on, to practise on him. This time, indeed, I admire your zeal and forgive you for making this disturbance; but that you have taken this action at an unseasonable time and that the policy of waiting which we are following is prudent, I shall now make clear. The emperor has gathered for us from the whole earth and despatched an army too great to number, and a fleet such as was never brought together by the Romans now covers the shore of Campania and the greater part of the Ionian Gulf. And within a few days these reinforcements will come to us and bring with them all kinds of provisions, to put an end to our destitution and to bury the camps of the barbarians under a multitude of missiles. I have therefore reasoned that it was better to put off the time of conflict until they are present, and thus gain the victory in the war with safety, than to make a show of daring in unreasoning haste and thus throw away the salvation of our whole cause. To secure their immediate arrival and to prevent their loitering longer shall be my concern." FOOTNOTE: [143] Torre Fiscale; but it is only about thirty stades from Rome. IV With these words Belisarius encouraged the Roman populace and then dismissed them; and Procopius, who wrote this history, he immediately commanded to go to Naples. For a rumour was going about that the emperor had sent an army there. And he commissioned him to load as many ships as possible with grain, to gather all the soldiers who at the moment had arrived from Byzantium, or had been left about Naples in charge of horses or for any other purpose whatever--for he had heard that many such were coming to the various places in Campania--and to withdraw some of the men from the garrisons there, and then to come back with them, convoying the grain to Ostia, where the harbour of the Romans was. And Procopius, accompanied by Mundilas the guardsman and a few horsemen, passed out by night through the gate which bears the name of the Apostle Paul,[144] eluding the enemy's camp which had been established very close to the Appian Way to keep guard over it. And when Mundilas and his men, returning to Rome, announced that Procopius had already arrived in Campania without meeting any of the barbarians,--for at night, they said, the enemy never went outside their camp,--everybody became hopeful, and Belisarius, now emboldened, devised the following plan. He sent out many of his horsemen to the neighbouring strongholds, directing them, in case any of the enemy should come that way in order to bring provisions into their camps, that they should constantly make sallies upon them from their positions and lay ambushes everywhere about this region, and thus keep them from succeeding; on the contrary, they should with all their might hedge them in, so that the city might be in less distress than formerly through lack of provisions, and also that the barbarians might seem to be besieged rather than to be themselves besieging the Romans. So he commanded Martinus and Trajan with a thousand men to go to Taracina. And with them he sent also his wife Antonina, commanding that she be sent with a few men to Naples, there to await in safety the fortune which would befall the Romans. And he sent Magnus and Sinthues the guardsman, who took with them about five hundred men, to the fortress of Tibur, one hundred and forty stades distant from Rome. But to the town of Albani,[145] which was situated on the Appian Way at the same distance from the city, he had already, as it happened, sent Gontharis with a number of Eruli, and these the Goths had driven out from there by force not long afterward. Now there is a certain church of the Apostle Paul,[146] fourteen stades distant from the fortifications of Rome, and the Tiber River flows beside it. In that place there is no fortification, but a colonnade extends all the way from the city to the church, and many other buildings which are round about it render the place not easy of access. But the Goths shew a certain degree of actual respect for sanctuaries such as this. And indeed during the whole time of the war no harm came to either church of the two Apostles[147] at their hands, but all the rites were performed in them by the priests in the usual manner. At this spot, then, Belisarius commanded Valerian to take all the Huns and make a stockade by the bank of the Tiber, in order that their horses might be kept in greater security and that the Goths might be still further checked from going at their pleasure to great distances from their camps. And Valerian acted accordingly. Then, after the Huns had made their camp in the place where the general directed, he rode back to the city. So Belisarius, having accomplished this, remained quiet, not offering battle, but eager to carry on the defence from the wall, if anyone should advance against it from outside with evil intent. And he also furnished grain to some of the Roman populace. But Martinus and Trajan passed by night between the camps of the enemy, and after reaching Taracina sent Antonina with a few men into Campania; and they themselves took possession of the fortified places in that district, and using them as their bases of operations and making thence their sudden attacks, they checked such of the Goths as were moving about in that region. As for Magnus and Sinthues, in a short time they rebuilt such parts of the fortress[148] as had fallen into ruin, and as soon as they had put themselves in safety, they began immediately to make more trouble for the enemy, whose fortress was not far away, not only by making frequent raids upon them, but also by keeping such of the barbarians as were escorting provision-trains in a constant state of terror by the unexpectedness of their movements; but finally Sinthues was wounded in his right hand by a spear in a certain battle, and since the sinews were severed, he became thereafter unfit for fighting. And the Huns likewise, after they had made their camp near by, as I have said, were on their part causing the Goths no less trouble, so that these as well as the Romans were now feeling the pressure of famine, since they no longer had freedom to bring in their food-supplies as formerly. And pestilence too fell upon them and was destroying many, and especially in the camp which they had last made, close by the Appian Way, as I have previously stated.[149] And the few of their number who had not perished withdrew from that camp to the other camps. The Huns also suffered in the same way, and so returned to Rome. Such was the course of events here. But as for Procopius, when he reached Campania, he collected not fewer than five hundred soldiers there, loaded a great number of ships with grain, and held them in readiness. And he was joined not long afterwards by Antonina, who immediately assisted him in making arrangements for the fleet. At that time the mountain of Vesuvius rumbled, and though it did not break forth in eruption, still because of the rumbling it led people to expect with great certainty that there would be an eruption. And for this reason it came to pass that the inhabitants fell into great terror. Now this mountain is seventy stades distant from Naples and lies to the north[150] of it--an exceedingly steep mountain, whose lower parts spread out wide on all sides, while its upper portion is precipitous and exceedingly difficult of ascent. But on the summit of Vesuvius and at about the centre of it appears a cavern of such depth that one would judge that it extends all the way to the bottom of the mountain. And it is possible to see fire there, if one should dare to peer over the edge, and although the flames as a rule merely twist and turn upon one another, occasioning no trouble to the inhabitants of that region, yet, when the mountain gives forth a rumbling sound which resembles bellowing, it generally sends up not long afterward a great quantity of ashes. And if anyone travelling on the road is caught by this terrible shower, he cannot possibly survive, and if it falls upon houses, they too fall under the weight of the great quantity of ashes. But whenever it so happens that a strong wind comes on, the ashes rise to a great height, so that they are no longer visible to the eye, and are borne wherever the wind which drives them goes, falling on lands exceedingly far away. And once, they say, they fell in Byzantium[151] and so terrified the people there, that from that time up to the present the whole city has seen fit to propitiate God with prayers every year; and at another time they fell on Tripolis in Libya. Formerly this rumbling took place, they say, once in a hundred years or even more,[152] but in later times it has happened much more frequently. This, however, they declare emphatically, that whenever Vesuvius belches forth these ashes, the country round about is bound to flourish with an abundance of all crops. Furthermore, the air on this mountain is very light and by its nature the most favourable to health in the world. And indeed those who are attacked by consumption have been sent to this place by physicians from remote times. So much, then, may be said regarding Vesuvius. FOOTNOTES: [144] The Porta Ostiensis. [145] See Book V. vi. 7, note. [146] The Basilica of St. Paul stood south of the city, outside the Porta Ostiensis which is still called Porta S. Paolo. [147] St. Peter and St. Paul. [148] Tibur. [149] Chap. iii. 7. [150] This is an error on the part of Procopius. In point of fact it lies to the south-east of Naples. [151] During the eruption of 472 A.D. [152] Since the great eruption of 79 A.D.--the first in historical times--eruptions have succeeded one another at intervals varying from one to more than one hundred years. V At this time another army also arrived by sea from Byzantium, three thousand Isaurians who put in at the harbour of Naples, led by Paulus and Conon, and eight hundred Thracian horsemen who landed at Dryus, led by John, the nephew of the Vitalian who had formerly been tyrant, and with them a thousand other soldiers of the regular cavalry, under various commanders, among whom were Alexander and Marcentius. And it happened that Zeno with three hundred horsemen had already reached Rome by way of Samnium and the Latin Way. And when John with all the others came to Campania, provided with many waggons by the inhabitants of Calabria, his troops were joined by five hundred men who, as I have said, had been collected in Campania. These set out by the coast road with the waggons, having in mind, if any hostile force should confront them, to make a circle of the waggons in the form of a stockade and thus to ward off the enemy; and they commanded the men under Paulus and Conon to sail with all speed and join them at Ostia, the harbour of Rome[153]; and they put sufficient grain in the waggons and loaded all the ships, not only with grain, but also with wine and all kinds of provisions. And they, indeed, expected to find the forces of Martinus and Trajan in the neighbourhood of Taracina and to have their company from that point on, but when they approached Taracina, they learned that these forces had recently been recalled and had retired to Rome. But Belisarius, learning that the forces of John were approaching and fearing that the enemy might confront them in greatly superior numbers and destroy them, took the following measures. It so happened that the enemy had encamped very close to the Flaminian Gate; this gate Belisarius himself had blocked up at the beginning of this war by a structure of stone, as has been told by me in the previous narrative,[154] his purpose of course being to make it difficult for the enemy either to force their way in or to make any attempt upon the city at that point. Consequently no engagement had taken place at this gate, and the barbarians had no suspicion that there would be any attack upon them from there. Now Belisarius tore down by night the masonry which blocked this gate, without giving notice to anyone at all, and made ready the greatest part of the army there. And at daybreak he sent Trajan and Diogenes with a thousand horsemen through the Pincian Gate, commanding them to shoot missiles into the camps, and as soon as their opponents came against them, to flee without the least shame and to ride up to the fortifications at full speed. And he also stationed some men inside this gate. So the men under Trajan began to harass the barbarians, as Belisarius had directed them to do, and the Goths, gathering from all the camps, began to defend themselves. And both armies began to move as fast as they could toward the fortifications of the city, the one giving the appearance of fleeing, and the other supposing that they were pursuing the enemy. But as soon as Belisarius saw the enemy take up the pursuit, he opened the Flaminian Gate and sent his army out against the barbarians, who were thus taken unawares. Now it so happened that one of the Gothic camps was on the road near this gate, and in front of it there was a narrow passage between steep banks which was exceedingly difficult of access. And one of the barbarians, a man of splendid physique and clad in a corselet, when he saw the enemy advancing, reached this place before them and took his stand there, at the same time calling his comrades and urging them to help in guarding the narrow passage. But before any move could be made Mundilas slew him and thereafter allowed none of the barbarians to go into this passage. The Romans therefore passed through it without encountering opposition, and some of them, arriving at the Gothic camp near by, for a short time tried to take it, but were unable to do so because of the strength of the stockade, although not many barbarians had been left behind in it. For the trench had been dug to an extraordinary depth, and since the earth taken from it had invariably been placed along its inner side, this reached a great height and so served as a wall[155]; and it was abundantly supplied with stakes, which were very sharp and close together, thus making a palisade. These defences so emboldened the barbarians that they began to repel the enemy vigorously. But one of the guards of Belisarius, Aquilinus by name, an exceedingly active man, seized a horse by the bridle and, bestriding it, leaped from the trench into the middle of the camp, where he slew some of the enemy. And when his opponents gathered about him and hurled great numbers of missiles, the horse was wounded and fell, but he himself unexpectedly made his escape through the midst of the enemy. So he went on foot with his companions toward the Pincian Gate. And overtaking the barbarians, who were still engaged in pursuing Roman horsemen,[156] they began to shoot at them from behind and killed some of them. Now when Trajan and his men perceived this, since they had meanwhile been reinforced by the horsemen who had been standing near by in readiness, they charged at full speed against their pursuers. Then at length the Goths, being now outgeneraled and unexpectedly caught between the forces of their enemy, began to be killed indiscriminately. And there was great slaughter of them, and very few escaped to their camps, and that with difficulty; meanwhile the others, fearing for the safety of all their strongholds, shut themselves in and remained in them thereafter, thinking that the Romans would come against them without the least delay. In this action one of the barbarians shot Trajan in the face, above the right eye and not far from the nose. And the whole of the iron point, penetrated the head and disappeared entirely, although the barb on it was large and exceedingly long, but the remainder of the arrow immediately fell to the ground without the application of force by anyone, in my opinion because the iron point had never been securely fastened to the shaft. Trajan, however, paid no heed to this at all, but continued none the less killing and pursuing the enemy. But in the fifth year afterward the tip of the iron of its own accord began to project visibly from his face. And this is now the third year since it has been slowly but steadily coming out. It is to be expected, therefore, that the whole barb will eventually come out, though not for a long time. But it has not been an impediment to the man in any way. So much then for these matters. FOOTNOTES: [153] The regular harbour, Portus, was held by the Goths. [154] Book V. xix. 6. [155] Cf. Book V. xix. 11. [156] These were the forces of Trajan and Diogenes. VI Now the barbarians straightway began to despair of winning the war and were considering how they might withdraw from Rome, inasmuch as they had suffered the ravages both of the pestilence and of the enemy, and were now reduced from many tens of thousands to a few men; and, not least of all, they were in a state of distress by reason of the famine, and while in name they were carrying on a siege, they were in fact being besieged by their opponents and were shut off from all necessities. And when they learned that still another army had come to their enemy from Byzantium both by land and by sea--not being informed as to its actual size, but supposing it to be as large as the free play of rumour was able to make it,--they became terrified at the danger and began to plan for their departure. They accordingly sent three envoys to Rome, one of whom was a Roman of note among the Goths, and he, coming before Belisarius, spoke as follows: "That the war has not turned out to the advantage of either side each of us knows well, since we both have had actual experience of its hardships. For why should anyone in either army deny facts of which neither now remains in ignorance. And no one, I think, could deny, at least no one who does not lack understanding, that it is only senseless men who choose to go on suffering indefinitely merely to satisfy the contentious spirit which moves them for the moment, and refuse to find a solution of the troubles which harass them. And whenever this situation arises, it is the duty of the commanders on both sides not to sacrifice the lives of their subjects to their own glory, but to choose the course which is just and expedient, not for themselves alone, but also for their opponents, and thus to put an end to present hardships. For moderation in one's demands affords a way out of all difficulties, but it is the very nature of contentiousness that it cannot accomplish any of the objects which are essential. Now we, on our part, have deliberated concerning the conclusion of this war and have come before you with proposals which are of advantage to both sides, wherein we waive, as we think, some portion even of our rights. And see to it that you likewise in your deliberations do not yield to a spirit of contentiousness respecting us and thus destroy yourselves as well as us, in preference to choosing the course which will be of advantage to yourselves. And it is fitting that both sides should state their case, not in continuous speech, but each interrupting the other on the spur of the moment, if anything that is said shall seem inappropriate. For in this way each side will be able to say briefly whatever it is minded to say, and at the same time the essential things will be accomplished." Belisarius replied: "There will be nothing to prevent the debate from proceeding in the manner you suggest, only let the words spoken by you be words of peace and of justice." So the ambassadors of the Goths in their turn said: "You have done us an injustice, O Romans, in taking up arms wrongfully against us, your friends and allies. And what we shall say is, we think, well known to each one of you as well as to ourselves. For the Goths did not obtain the land of Italy by wresting it from the Romans by force, but Odoacer in former times dethroned the emperor, changed the government of Italy to a tyranny, and so held it.[157] And Zeno, who then held the power of the East, though he wished to avenge his partner in the imperial office and to free this land from the usurper, was unable to destroy the authority of Odoacer. Accordingly he persuaded Theoderic, our ruler, although he was on the point of besieging him and Byzantium, not only to put an end to his hostility towards himself, in recollection of the honour which Theoderic had already received at his hands in having been made a patrician and consul of the Romans,[158] but also to punish Odoacer for his unjust treatment of Augustulus, and thereafter, in company with the Goths, to hold sway over the land as its legitimate and rightful rulers. It was in this way, therefore, that we took over the dominion of Italy, and we have preserved both the laws and the form of government as strictly as any who have ever been Roman emperors, and there is absolutely no law, either written or unwritten, introduced by Theoderic or by any of his successors on the throne of the Goths. And we have so scrupulously guarded for the Romans their practices pertaining to the worship of God and faith in Him, that not one of the Italians has changed his belief, either willingly or unwillingly, up to the present day, and when Goths have changed,[159] we have taken no notice of the matter. And indeed the sanctuaries of the Romans have received from us the highest honour; for no one who has taken refuge in any of them has ever been treated with violence by any man; nay, more, the Romans themselves have continued to hold all the offices of the state, and not a single Goth has had a share in them. Let someone come forward and refute us, if he thinks that this statement of ours is not true. And one might add that the Goths have conceded that the dignity of the consulship should be conferred upon Romans each year by the emperor of the East. Such has been the course followed by us; but you, on your side, did not take the part of Italy while it was suffering at the hands of the barbarians and Odoacer, although it was not for a short time, but for ten years, that he treated the land outrageously; but now you do violence to us who have acquired it legitimately, though you have no business here. Do you therefore depart hence out of our way, keeping both that which is your own and whatever you have gained by plunder." And Belisarius said: "Although your promise gave us to understand that your words would be brief and temperate, yet your discourse has been both long and not far from fraudulent in its pretensions. For Theoderic was sent by the Emperor Zeno in order to make war on Odoacer, not in order to hold the dominion of Italy for himself. For why should the emperor have been concerned to exchange one tyrant for another? But he sent him in order that Italy might be free and obedient to the emperor. And though Theoderic disposed of the tyrant in a satisfactory manner, in everything else he shewed an extraordinary lack of proper feeling; for he never thought of restoring the land to its rightful owner. But I, for my part, think that he who robs another by violence and he who of his own will does not restore his neighbour's goods are equal. Now, as for me, I shall never surrender the emperor's country to any other. But if there is anything you wish to receive in place of it, I give you leave to speak." And the barbarians said: "That everything which we have said is true no one of you can be unaware. But in order that we may not seem to be contentious, we give up to you Sicily, great as it is and of such wealth, seeing that without it you cannot possess Libya in security." And Belisarius replied: "And we on our side permit the Goths to have the whole of Britain, which is much larger than Sicily and was subject to the Romans in early times. For it is only fair to make an equal return to those who first do a good deed or perform a kindness." The barbarians: "Well, then, if we should make you a proposal concerning Campania also, or about Naples itself, will you listen to it?" Belisarius: "No, for we are not empowered to administer the emperor's affairs in a way which is not in accord with his wish." The barbarians: "Not even if we impose upon ourselves the payment of a fixed sum of money every year?" Belisarius: "No, indeed. For we are not empowered to do anything else than guard the land for its owner." The barbarians: "Come now, we must send envoys to the emperor and make with him our treaty concerning the whole matter. And a definite time must also be appointed during which the armies will be bound to observe an armistice." Belisarius: "Very well; let this be done. For never shall I stand in your way when you are making plans for peace." After saying these things they each left the conference, and the envoys of the Goths withdrew to their own camp. And during the ensuing days they visited each other frequently and made the arrangements for the armistice, and they agreed that each side should put into the hands of the other some of its notable men as hostages to ensure the keeping of the armistice. FOOTNOTES: [157] 476 A.D. Cf. Book V. i. 6-8 and note. [158] Cf. Book V. i. 10, 11. [159] The Goths were Christians, but followed the Arian heresy. VII But while these negotiations were in progress at Rome, meanwhile the fleet of the Isaurians put in at the harbour[160] of the Romans and John with his men came to Ostia, and not one of the enemy hindered them either while bringing their ships to land or while making their camp. But in order that they might be able to pass the night safe from a sudden attack by the enemy, the Isaurians dug a deep trench close to the harbour and kept a constant guard by shifts of men, while John's soldiers made a barricade of their waggons about the camp and remained quiet. And when night came on Belisarius went to Ostia with a hundred horsemen, and after telling what had taken place in the engagement and the agreement which had been made between the Romans and the Goths and otherwise encouraging them, he bade them bring their cargoes and come with all zeal to Rome. "For," he said, "I shall take care that the journey is free from danger." So he himself at early dawn rode back to the city, and Antonina together with the commanders began at daybreak to consider means of transporting the cargoes. But it seemed to them that the task was a hard one and beset with the greatest difficulties. For the oxen could hold out no longer, but all lay half-dead, and, furthermore, it was dangerous to travel over a rather narrow road with the waggons, and impossible to tow the barges on the river, as had formerly been the custom. For the road which is on the left[2] of the river was held by the enemy, as stated by me in the previous narrative,[162] and not available for the use of the Romans at that time, while the road on the other side of it is altogether unused, at least that part of it which follows the river-bank. They therefore selected the small boats belonging to the larger ships, put a fence of high planks around them on all sides, in order that the men on board might not be exposed to the enemy's shots, and embarked archers and sailors on them in numbers suitable for each boat. And after they had loaded the boats with all the freight they could carry, they waited for a favouring wind and set sail toward Rome by the Tiber, and a portion of the army followed them along the right[161] bank of the river to support them. But they left a large number of Isaurians to guard the ships. Now where the course of the river was straight, they found no trouble in sailing, simply raising the sails of the boats; but where the stream wound about and took a course athwart the wind, and the sails received no impulse from it, the sailors had no slight toil in rowing and forcing the boats against the current. As for the barbarians, they sat in their camps and had no wish to hinder their enemy, either because they were terrified at the danger, or because they thought that the Romans would never by such means succeed in bringing in any provisions, and considered it contrary to their own interest, when a matter of no consequence was involved, to frustrate their hope of the armistice which Belisarius had already promised. Moreover, the Goths who were in Portus, though they could see their enemy constantly sailing by almost near enough to touch, made no move against them, but sat there wondering in amazement at the plan they had hit upon. And when the Romans had made the voyage up the river many times in the same way, and had thus conveyed all the cargoes into the city without interference, the sailors took the ships and withdrew with all speed, for it was already about the time of the winter solstice; and the rest of the army entered Rome, except, indeed, that Paulus remained in Ostia with some of the Isaurians. And afterwards they gave hostages to one another to secure the keeping of the armistice, the Romans giving Zeno, and the Goths Ulias, a man of no mean station, with the understanding that during three months they should make no attack upon one another, until the envoys should return from Byzantium and report the will of the emperor. And even if the one side or the other should initiate offences against their opponents, the envoys were nevertheless to be returned to their own nation. So the envoys of the barbarians went to Byzantium escorted by Romans, and Ildiger, the son-in-law of Antonina, came to Rome from Libya with not a few horsemen. And the Goths who were holding the stronghold at Portus abandoned the place by the order of Vittigis because their supplies were exhausted, and came to the camp in obedience to his summons. Whereupon Paulus with his Isaurians came from Ostia and took possession of it and held it. Now the chief reason why these barbarians were without provisions was that the Romans commanded the sea and did not allow any of the necessary supplies to be brought in to them. And it was for this reason that they also abandoned at about the same time a sea-coast city of great importance, Centumcellae[163] by name, that is, because they were short of provisions. This city is large and populous, lying to the west of Rome, in Tuscany, distant from it about two hundred and eighty stades. And after taking possession of it the Romans went on and extended their power still more, for they took also the town of Albani, which lies to the east of Rome, the enemy having evacuated it at that time for the same reason, and they had already surrounded the barbarians on all sides and now held them between their forces. The Goths, therefore, were in a mood to break the agreement and do some harm to the Romans. So they sent envoys to Belisarius and asserted that they had been unjustly treated during a truce; for when Vittigis had summoned the Goths who were in Portus to perform some service for him, Paulus and the Isaurians had seized and taken possession of the fort there for no good reason. And they made this same false charge regarding Albani and Centumcellae, and threatened that, unless he should give these places back to them, they would resent it. But Belisarius laughed and sent them away, saying that this charge was but a pretext, and that no one was ignorant of the reason why the Goths had abandoned these places. And thereafter the two sides were somewhat suspicious of one another. But later, when Belisarius saw that Rome was abundantly supplied with soldiers, he sent many horsemen to places far distant from Rome, and commanded John, the nephew of Vitalian, and the horsemen under his command, eight hundred in number, to pass the winter near the city of Alba, which lies in Picenum; and with him he sent four hundred of the men of Valerian, whom Damianus, the nephew of Valerian, commanded, and eight hundred men of his own guards who were especially able warriors. And in command of these he put two spearmen, Suntas and Adegis, and ordered them to follow John wherever he should lead; and he gave John instructions that as long as he saw the enemy was keeping the agreement made between them, he should remain quiet; but whenever he found that the armistice had been violated by them, he should do as follows: With his whole force he was to make a sudden raid and overrun the land of Picenum, visiting all the districts of that region and reaching each one before the report of his coming. For in this whole land there was virtually not a single man left, since all, as it appeared, had marched against Rome, but everywhere there were women and children of the enemy and money. He was instructed, therefore, to enslave or plunder whatever he found, taking care never to injure any of the Romans living there. And if he should happen upon any place which had men and defences, as he probably would, he was to make an attempt upon it with his whole force. And if he was able to capture it, he was to go forward, but if it should so happen that his attempt was unsuccessful, he was to march back or remain there. For if he should go forward and leave such a fortress in his rear, he would be involved in the greatest danger, since his men would never be able to defend themselves easily, if they should be harassed by their opponents. He was also to keep the whole booty intact, in order that it might be divided fairly and properly among the army. Then with a laugh he added this also: "For it is not fair that the drones should be destroyed with great labour by one force, while others, without having endured any hardship at all, enjoy the honey." So after giving these instructions, Belisarius sent John with his army. And at about the same time Datius, the priest of Milan, and some notable men among the citizens came to Rome and begged Belisarius to send them a few guards. For they declared that they were themselves able without any trouble to detach from the Goths not only Milan, but the whole of Liguria also, and to recover them for the emperor. Now this city is situated in Liguria, and lies about half way between the city of Ravenna and the Alps on the borders of Gaul; for from either one it is a journey of eight days to Milan for an unencumbered traveller; and it is the first of the cities of the West, after Rome at least, both in size and in population and in general prosperity. And Belisarius promised to fulfil their request, but detained them there during the winter season. FOOTNOTES: [160] Ostia, since the regular harbour, Portus, was held by the Goths. [161] _i.e._ facing upstream. [162] Book IV. xxvi. 14. [163] Modern Civita Vecchia. VIII Such was the course of these events. But the envy of fortune was already swelling against the Romans, when she saw their affairs progressing successfully and well, and wishing to mingle some evil with this good, she inspired a quarrel, on a trifling pretext, between Belisarius and Constantinus; and how this grew and to what end it came I shall now go on to relate. There was a certain Presidius, a Roman living at Ravenna, and a man of no mean station. This Presidius had given offence to the Goths at the time when Vittigis was about to march against Rome, and so he set out with some few of his domestics ostensibly on a hunting expedition, and went into exile; he had communicated his plan to no one and took none of his property with him, except indeed that he himself carried two daggers, the scabbards of which happened to be adorned with much gold and precious stones. And when he came to Spolitium, he lodged in a certain temple outside the fortifications. And when Constantinus, who happened to be still tarrying there,[164] heard of this, he sent one of his guards, Maxentiolus, and took away from him both the daggers for no good reason. The man was deeply offended by what had taken place, and set out for Rome with all speed and came to Belisarius, and Constantinus also arrived there not long afterward; for the Gothic army was already reported to be not far away. Now as long as the affairs of the Romans were critical and in confusion, Presidius remained silent; but when he saw that the Romans were gaining the upper hand and that the envoys of the Goths had been sent to the emperor, as has been told by me above, he frequently approached Belisarius reporting the injustice and demanding that he assist him in obtaining his rights. And Belisarius reproached Constantinus many times himself, and many times through others, urging him to clear himself of the guilt of an unjust deed and of a dishonouring report. But Constantinus--for it must needs be that evil befall him--always lightly evaded the charge and taunted the wronged man. But on one occasion Presidius met Belisarius riding on horseback in the forum, and he laid hold of the horse's bridle, and crying out with a loud voice asked whether the laws of the emperor said that, whenever anyone fleeing from the barbarians comes to them as a suppliant, they should rob him by violence of whatever he may chance to have in his hands. And though many men gathered about and commanded him with threats to let go his hold of the bridle, he did not let go until at last Belisarius promised to give him the daggers. On the following day, therefore, Belisarius called Constantinus and many of the commanders to an apartment in the palace, and after going over what had happened on the previous day urged him even at that late time to restore the daggers. But Constantinus refused to do so; nay, he would more gladly throw them into the waters of the Tiber than give them to Presidius. And Belisarius, being by now mastered by anger, enquired whether Constantinus did not think that he was subject to his orders. And he agreed to obey him in all other things, for this was the emperor's will; this command, however, which at the present time he was laying upon him, he would never obey. Belisarius then commanded his guards to enter, whereupon Constantinus said: "In order, plainly, to have them kill me." "By no means," said Belisarius, "but to have them compel your bodyguard Maxentiolus, who forcibly carried away the daggers for you, to restore to the man what he took from him by violence." But Constantinus, thinking that he was to die that very instant, wished to do some great deed before he should suffer anything himself. He accordingly drew the dagger which hung by his thigh and suddenly thrust it at the belly of Belisarius. And he in consternation stepped back, and by throwing his arms around Bessas, who was standing near, succeeded in escaping the blow. Then Constantinus, still boiling with anger, made after him; but Ildiger and Valerian, seeing what was being done, laid hold of his hands, one of the right and the other of the left, and dragged him back. And at this point the guards entered whom Belisarius had summoned a moment before, snatched the dagger of Constantinus from his hand with great violence, and seized him amid a great uproar. At the moment they did him no harm, out of respect, I suppose, to the officers present, but led him away to another room at the command of Belisarius, and at a somewhat later time put him to death. This was the only unholy deed done by Belisarius, and it was in no way worthy of the character of the man; for he always shewed great gentleness in his treatment of all others. But it had to be, as I have said, that evil should befall Constantinus. FOOTNOTE: [164] Cf. Book V. xvi. 1 ff. IX And the Goths not long after this wished to strike a blow at the fortifications of Rome. And first they sent some men by night into one of the aqueducts, from which they themselves had taken out the water at the beginning of this war.[165] And with lamps and torches in their hands they explored the entrance into the city by this way. Now it happened that not far from the small Pincian Gate an arch of this aqueduct[166] had a sort of crevice in it, and one of the guards saw the light through this and told his companions; but they said that he had seen a wolf passing by his post. For at that point it so happened that the structure of the aqueduct did not rise high above the ground, and they thought that the guard had imagined the wolf's eyes to be fire. So those barbarians who explored the aqueduct, upon reaching the middle of the city, where there was an upward passage built in olden times leading to the palace itself, came upon some masonry there which allowed them neither to advance beyond that point nor to use the ascent at all. This masonry had been put in by Belisarius as an act of precaution at the beginning of this siege, as has been set forth by me in the preceding narrative.[167] So they decided first to remove one small stone from the wall and then to go back immediately, and when they returned to Vittigis, they displayed the stone and reported the whole situation. And while he was considering his scheme with the best of the Goths, the Romans who were on guard at the Pincian Gate recalled among themselves on the following day the suspicion of the wolf. But when the story was passed around and came to Belisarius, the general did not treat the matter carelessly, but immediately sent some of the notable men in the army, together with the guardsman Diogenes, down into the aqueduct and bade them investigate everything with all speed. And they found all along the aqueduct the lamps of the enemy and the ashes which had dropped from their torches, and after observing the masonry where the stone had been taken out by the Goths, they reported to Belisarius. For this reason he personally kept the aqueduct under close guard; and the Goths, perceiving it, desisted from this attempt. But later on the barbarians went so far as to plan an open attack against the fortifications. So they waited for the time of lunch, and bringing up ladders and fire, when their enemy were least expecting them, made an assault upon the small Pincian Gate, emboldened by the hope of capturing the city by a sudden attack, since not many soldiers had been left there. But it happened that Ildiger and his men were keeping guard at that time; for all were assigned by turns to guard-duty. So when he saw the enemy advancing in disorder, he went out against them before they were yet drawn up in line of battle and while they were advancing in great disarray, and routing those who were opposite him without any trouble he slew many. And a great outcry and commotion arose throughout the city, as was to be expected, and the Romans gathered as quickly as possible to all parts of the fortifications; whereupon the barbarians after a short time retired to their camp baffled. But Vittigis resorted again to a plot against the wall. Now there was a certain part of it that was especially vulnerable, where the bank of the Tiber is, because at this place the Romans of old, confident in the protection afforded by the stream, had built the wall carelessly, making it low and altogether without towers; Vittigis therefore hoped to capture the city rather easily from that quarter. For indeed there was not even any garrison there of any consequence, as it happened. He therefore bribed with money two Romans who lived near the church of Peter the Apostle to pass along by the guards there at about nightfall carrying a skin full of wine, and in some way or other, by making a show of friendship, to give it to them, and then to sit drinking with them well on into the night; and they were to throw into the cup of each guard a sleep-producing drug which Vittigis had given them. And he stealthily got ready some skiffs, which he kept at the other bank; as soon as the guards should be overcome by sleep, some of the barbarians, acting in concert, were to cross the river in these, taking ladders with them, and make the assault on the wall. And he made ready the entire army with the intention of capturing the whole city by storm. After these arrangements were all complete, one of the two men who had been prepared by Vittigis for this service (for it was not fated that Rome should be captured by this army of the Goths) came of his own accord to Belisarius and revealed everything, and told who the other man was. So this man under torture brought to light all that he was about to do and displayed the drug which Vittigis had given him. And Belisarius first mutilated his nose and ears and then sent him riding on an ass into the enemy's camp. And when the barbarians saw him, they realised that God would not allow their purposes to have free course, and that therefore the city could never be captured by them. FOOTNOTES: [165] Book V. xix. 13. [166] The _Aqua Virgo_. [167] Book V. xix. 18. X But while these things were happening, Belisarius wrote to John and commanded him to begin operations. And he with his two thousand horsemen began to go about the land of Picenum and to plunder everything before him, treating the women and children of the enemy as slaves. And when Ulitheus, the uncle of Vittigis, confronted him with an army of Goths, he defeated them in battle and killed Ulitheus himself and almost the whole army of the enemy. For this reason no one dared any longer to engage with him. But when he came to the city of Auximus,[168] though he learned that it contained a Gothic garrison of inconsiderable size, yet in other respects he observed that the place was strong and impossible to capture. And for this reason he was quite unwilling to lay siege to it, but departing from there as quickly as he could, he moved forward. And he did this same thing at the city of Urbinus,[169] but at Ariminum,[170] which is one day's journey distant from Ravenna, he marched into the city at the invitation of the Romans. Now all the barbarians who were keeping guard there were very suspicious of the Roman inhabitants, and as soon as they learned that this army was approaching, they withdrew and ran until they reached Ravenna. And thus John secured Ariminum; but he had meanwhile left in his rear a garrison of the enemy both at Auximus and at Urbinus, not because he had forgotten the commands of Belisarius, nor because he was carried away by unreasoning boldness, since he had wisdom as well as energy, but because he reasoned--correctly, as it turned out--that if the Goths learned that the Roman army was close to Ravenna, they would instantly break up the siege of Rome because of their fears regarding this place. And in fact his reasoning proved to be true. For as soon as Vittigis and the army of the Goths heard that Ariminum was held by him, they were plunged into great fear regarding Ravenna, and abandoning all other considerations, they straightway made their withdrawal, as will be told by me directly. And John won great fame from this deed, though he was renowned even before. For he was a daring and efficient man in the highest degree, unflinching before danger, and in his daily life shewing at all times a certain austerity and ability to endure hardship unsurpassed by any barbarian or common soldier. Such a man was John. And Matasuntha, the wife of Vittigis, who was exceedingly hostile to her husband because he had taken her to wife by violence in the beginning,[171] upon learning that John had come to Ariminum was absolutely overcome by joy, and sending a messenger to him opened secret negotiations with him concerning marriage and the betrayal of the city. So these two kept sending messengers to each other without the knowledge of the rest and arranging these matters. But when the Goths learned what had happened at Ariminum, and when at the same time all their provisions had failed them, and the three months' time had already expired, they began to make their withdrawal, although they had not as yet received any information as far as the envoys were concerned. Now it was about the spring equinox, and one year had been spent in the siege and nine days in addition, when the Goths, having burned all their camps, set out at daybreak. And the Romans, seeing their opponents in flight, were at a loss how to deal with the situation. For it so happened that the majority of the horsemen were not present at that time, since they had been sent to various places, as has been stated by me above,[172] and they did not think that by themselves they were a match for so great a multitude of the enemy. However, Belisarius armed all the infantry and cavalry. And when he saw that more than half of the enemy had crossed the bridge, he led the army out through the small Pincian Gate, and the hand-to-hand battle which ensued proved to be equal to any that had preceded it. At the beginning the barbarians withstood their enemy vigorously, and many on both sides fell in the first encounter; but afterwards the Goths turned to flight and brought upon themselves a great and overwhelming calamity; for each man for himself was rushing to cross the bridge first. As a result of this they became very much crowded and suffered most cruelly, for they were being killed both by each other and by the enemy. Many, too, fell off the bridge on either side into the Tiber, sank with all their arms, and perished. Finally, after losing in this way the most of their number, the remainder joined those who had crossed before. And Longinus the Isaurian and Mundilas, the guards of Belisarius, made themselves conspicuous for their valour in this battle. But while Mundilas, after engaging with four barbarians in turn and killing them all, was himself saved, Longinus, having proved himself the chief cause of the rout of the enemy, fell where he fought, leaving the Roman army great regret for his loss. FOOTNOTES: [168] Modern Osimo. [169] Modern Urbino. [170] Modern Rimini. [171] Cf. Book V. xi. 27. [172] Chap. vii. 25. XI Now Vittigis with the remainder of his army marched toward Ravenna; and he strengthened the fortified places with a great number of guards, leaving in Clusium,[173] the city of Tuscany, one thousand men and Gibimer as commander, and in Urviventus[174] an equal number, over whom he set Albilas, a Goth, as commander. And he left Uligisalus in Tudera[175] with four hundred men. And in the land of Picenum he left in the fortress of Petra four hundred men who had lived there previously, and in Auximus, which is the largest of all the cities of that country, he left four thousand Goths selected for their valour and a very energetic commander, Visandus by name, and two thousand men with Moras in the city of Urbinus. There are also two other fortresses, Caesena and Monteferetra,[176] in each of which he established a garrison of not less than five hundred men. Then he himself with the rest of the army moved straight for Ariminum with the purpose of laying siege to it. But it happened that Belisarius, as soon as the Goths had broken up the siege of Rome, had sent Ildiger and Martinus with a thousand horsemen, in order that by travelling more quickly by another road they might arrive at Ariminum first, and he directed them promptly to remove John from the city and all those with him, and to put in their place fully enough men to guard the city, taking them from the fortress which is on the Ionian Gulf, Ancon by name, two days' journey distant from Ariminum. For he had already taken possession of it not long before, having sent Conon with no small force of Isaurians and Thracians. It was his hope that if unsupported infantry under commanders of no great note should hold Ariminum, the Gothic forces would never undertake its siege, but would regard it with contempt and so go at once to Ravenna, and that if they should decide to besiege Ariminum, the provisions there would suffice for the infantry for a somewhat longer time; and he thought also that two thousand horsemen,[177] attacking from outside with the rest of the army, would in all probability do the enemy great harm and drive them more easily to abandon the siege. It was with this purpose that Belisarius gave such orders to Martinus and Ildiger and their men. And they, by travelling over the Flaminian Way, arrived long before the barbarians. For since the Goths were moving in a great throng, they proceeded in a more leisurely manner, and they were compelled to make certain long detours, both because of the lack of provisions, and because they preferred not to pass close to the fortresses on the Flaminian Way, Narnia and Spolitium and Perusia, since these were in the hands of the enemy, as has been stated above.[178] When the Roman army arrived at Petra, they made an attack upon the fortress there, regarding it as an incident of their expedition. Now this fortress was not devised by man, but it was made by the nature of the place; for the road passes through an extremely mountainous country at that place. On the right of this road a river descends which no man can ford because of the swiftness of the current, and on the left not far away rises a sheer rock which reaches to such a height that men who might chance to be standing on its summit, as seen by those below, resemble in size the smallest birds. And in olden times there was no passage through as one went forward. For the end of the rock reaches to the very stream of the river, affording no room for those who travel that way to pass by. So the men of ancient times constructed a tunnel at that point, and made there a gate for the place.[179] And they also closed up the greatest part of the other[180] entrance, leaving only enough space for a small gate there also, and thus rendered the place a natural fortress, which they call by the fitting name of Petra. So the men of Martinus and Ildiger first made an attack upon one of the two gates,[181] and shot many missiles, but they accomplished nothing, although the barbarians there made no defence at all; but afterwards they forced their way up the cliff behind the fortress and hurled stones from there upon the heads of the Goths. And they, hurriedly and in great confusion, entered their houses and remained quiet. And then the Romans, unable to hit any of the enemy with the stones they threw, devised the following plan. They broke off large pieces from the cliff and, many of them pushing together, hurled them down, aiming at the houses. And wherever these in their fall did no more than just graze the building, they yet gave the whole fortress a considerable shock and reduced the barbarians to great fear. Consequently the Goths stretched out their hands to those who were still about the gate and surrendered themselves and the fort, with the condition that they themselves should remain free from harm, being slaves of the emperor and subject to Belisarius. And Ildiger and Martinus removed the most of them and led them away, putting them on a basis of complete equality with themselves, but some few they left there, together with their wives and children. And they also left something of a garrison of Romans. Thence they proceeded to Ancon, and taking with them many of the infantry in that place on the third day reached Ariminum, and announced the will of Belisarius. But John was not only unwilling himself to follow them, but also proposed to retain Damianus with the four hundred.[182] So they left there the infantry and retired thence with all speed, taking the spearmen and guards of Belisarius. FOOTNOTES: [173] Modern Chiusi. [174] Urbs Vetus, modern Orvieto. [175] Tuder or Tudertum, modern Todi. [176] Modern Montefeltro. [177] _i.e._ the force which John had when he had set out on his raid of Picenum (cf. Chap. x. 1) and with which he was now holding Ariminum. [178] Book V. xxix. 3. [179] The tunnel was made by the Emperor Vespasian, 76 A.D. This gate was at the southern end. [180] _i.e._ northern. [181] The upper, or southern, gate. [182] Cf. Chap. vii. 26. XII And not long afterward Vittigis and his whole army arrived at Ariminum, where they established their camp and began the siege. And they immediately constructed a wooden tower higher than the circuit-wall of the city and resting on four wheels, and drew it toward that part of the wall which seemed to them most vulnerable. But in order that they might not have the same experience here which they had before the fortifications of Rome, they did not use oxen to draw the tower, but hid themselves within it and thus hauled it forward. And there was a stairway of great breadth inside the tower on which the barbarians in great numbers were to make the ascent easily, for they hoped that as soon as they should place the tower against the fortifications, they would have no trouble in stepping thence to the parapet of the wall; for they had made the tower high with this in view. So when they had come close to the fortifications with this engine of war, they remained quiet for the time, since it was already growing dark, and stationing guards about the tower they all went off to pass the night, supposing that they would meet with no obstacle whatever. And indeed there was nothing in their way, not even a trench between them and the wall, except an exceedingly small one. As for the Romans, they passed the night in great fear, supposing that on the morrow they would perish. But John, neither yielding to despair in face of the danger nor being greatly agitated by fear, devised the following plan. Leaving the others on guard at their posts, he himself took the Isaurians, who carried pickaxes and various other tools of this kind, and went outside the fortifications; it was late in the night and no word had been given beforehand to anyone in the city; and once outside the wall, he commanded his men in silence to dig the trench deeper. So they did as directed, and as they dug they kept putting the earth which they took out of the trench upon the side of it nearer the city-wall, and there it served them as an earthwork. And since they were unobserved for a long time by the enemy, who were sleeping, they soon made the trench both deep and sufficiently wide, at the place where the fortifications were especially vulnerable and where the barbarians were going to make the assault with their engine of war. But far on in the night the enemy, perceiving what was being done, charged at full speed against those who were digging, and John went inside the fortifications with the Isaurians, since the trench was now in a most satisfactory condition. But at daybreak Vittigis noted what had been accomplished and in his exceeding vexation at the occurrence executed some of the guards; however, he was as eager as before to bring his engine to bear, and so commanded the Goths to throw a great number of faggots as quickly as possible into the trench, and then by drawing the tower over them to bring it into position. This they proceeded to do as Vittigis commanded, with all zeal, although their opponents kept fighting them back from the wall with the utmost vigour. But when the weight of the tower came upon the faggots they naturally yielded and sank down. For this reason the barbarians were quite unable to go forward with the engine, because the ground became still more steep before them, where the Romans had heaped up the earth as I have stated. Fearing, therefore, that when night came on the enemy would sally forth and set fire to the engine, they began to draw it back again. This was precisely what John was eager to prevent with all his power, and so he armed his soldiers, called them all together, and exhorted them as follows: "My men, who share this danger common to us all, if it would please any man among you to live and see those whom he has left at home, let him realize that the only hope he has of obtaining these things lies in nothing but his own hands. For when Belisarius sent us forth in the beginning, hope and desire for many things made us eager for the task. For we never suspected that we should be besieged in the country along the coast, since the Romans command the sea so completely, nor would one have supposed that the emperor's army would so far neglect us. But apart from these considerations, at that time we were prompted to boldness by an opportunity to display our loyalty to the state and by the glory which we should acquire in the sight of all men as the result of our struggles. But as things now stand, we cannot possibly survive save by courage, and we are obliged to undergo this danger with no other end in view than the saving of our own lives. Therefore, if any of you perchance lay claim to valour, all such have the opportunity to prove themselves brave men, if any men in the world have, and thereby to cover themselves with glory. For they achieve a fair name, not who overpower those weaker than themselves, but who, though inferior in equipment, still win the victory by the greatness of their souls. And as for those in whom the love of life has been more deeply implanted, it will be of advantage to these especially to be bold, for it is true of all men, as a general thing, that when their fortunes stand on the razor's edge, as is now the case with us, they may be saved only by scorning the danger." With these words John led his army out against the enemy, leaving some few men to guard the battlement. But the enemy withstood them bravely, and the battle became exceedingly fierce. And with great difficulty and late in the day the barbarians succeeded in bringing the tower back to their own camp. However, they lost so great a number of their fighting men that they decided thenceforth to make no further attacks upon the wall, but in despair of succeeding that way, they remained quiet, expecting that their enemy would yield to them under stress of famine. For all their provisions had already failed them completely, since they had not found any place from which they could bring in a sufficient supply. Such was the course of events here. But as for Belisarius, he sent to the representatives of Milan[183] a thousand men, Isaurians and Thracians. The Isaurians were commanded by Ennes, the Thracians by Paulus, while Mundilas was set over them all and commanded in person, having as his guard some few of the guardsmen of Belisarius. And with them was also Fidelius, who had been made praetorian prefect. For since he was a native of Milan, he was regarded as a suitable person to go with this army, having as he did some influence in Liguria. They set sail, accordingly, from the harbour of Rome and put in at Genoa, which is the last city in Tuscany and well situated as a port of call for the voyage to Gaul and to Spain. There they left their ships and travelling by land moved forward, placing the boats of the ships on their waggons, in order that nothing might prevent their crossing the river Po. It was by this means, in any event, that they made the crossing of the river. And when they reached the city of Ticinum,[184] after crossing the Po, the Goths came out against them and engaged them in battle. And they were not only numerous but also excellent troops, since all the barbarians who lived in that region had deposited the most valuable of their possessions in Ticinum, as being a place which had strong defences, and had left there a considerable garrison. So a fierce battle took place, but the Romans were victorious, and routing their opponents, they slew a great number and came within a little of capturing the city in the pursuit. For it was only with difficulty that the barbarians succeeded in shutting the gates, so closely did their enemy press upon their heels. And as the Romans were marching away, Fidelius went into a temple there to pray, and was the last to leave. But by some chance his horse stumbled and he fell. And since he had fallen very near the fortifications, the Goths seeing him came out and killed him without being observed by the enemy. Wherefore, when this was afterwards discovered by Mundilas and the Romans, they were greatly distressed. Then, leaving Ticinum, they arrived at the city of Milan and secured this city with the rest of Liguria without a battle. When Vittigis learned about this, he sent a large army with all speed and Uraïas, his own nephew, as commander. And Theudibert, the leader of the Franks, sent him at his request ten thousand men as allies, not of the Franks themselves, but Burgundians, in order not to appear to be doing injury to the emperor's cause. For it was given out that the Burgundians made the expedition willingly and of their own choice, not as obeying the command of Theudibert. And the Goths, joined by these troops, came to Milan, made camp and began a siege when the Romans were least expecting them. At any rate the Romans, through this action, found it impossible to bring in any kind of provisions, but they were immediately in distress for want of necessities. Indeed, even the guarding of the walls was not being maintained by the regular soldiers, for it so happened that Mundilas had occupied all the cities near Milan which had defences, namely Bergomum, Comum, and Novaria,[185] as well as some other strongholds, and in every place had established a considerable garrison, while he himself with about three hundred men remained in Milan, and with him Ennes and Paulus. Consequently and of necessity the inhabitants of the city were regularly keeping guard in turn. Such was the progress of events in Liguria, and the winter drew to its close, and the third year came to an end in this war, the history of which Procopius has written. FOOTNOTES: [183] Cf. Chap. vii. 35. [184] Modern Pavia. [185] Modern Bergamo, Como, and Novara. XIII And Belisarius at about the time of the summer solstice marched against Vittigis and the Gothic army, leaving a few men to act as a garrison in Rome, but taking all the others with him. And he sent some men to Tudera and Clusium, with orders to make fortified camps there, and he was intending to follow them and assist in besieging the barbarians at those places. But when the barbarians learned that the army was approaching, they did not wait to face the danger, but sent envoys to Belisarius, promising to surrender both themselves and the two cities, with the condition that they should remain free from harm. And when he came there, they fulfilled their promise. And Belisarius removed all the Goths from these towns and sent them to Sicily and Naples, and after establishing a garrison in Clusium and in Tudera, he led his army forward. But meanwhile Vittigis had sent another army, under command of Vacimus, to Auximus, commanding it to join forces with the Goths there, and with them to go against the enemy in Ancon and make an attempt upon that fortress. Now this Ancon is a sort of pointed rock, and indeed it is from this circumstance that it has taken its name; for it is exceedingly like an "elbow." And it is about eighty stades distant from the city of Auximus, whose port it is. And the defences of the fortress lie upon the pointed rock in a position of security, but all the buildings outside, though they are many, have been from ancient times unprotected by a wall. Now as soon as Conon, who was in command of the garrison of the place, heard that the forces of Vacimus were coming against him and were already not far away, he made an exhibition of thoughtless folly. For thinking it too small a thing to preserve free from harm merely the fortress and its inhabitants together with the soldiers, he left the fortifications entirely destitute of soldiers, and leading them all out to a distance of about five stades, arrayed them in line of battle, without, however, making the phalanx a deep one at all, but thin enough to surround the entire base of the mountain, as if for a hunt. But when these troops saw that the enemy were greatly superior to them in number, they turned their backs and straightway fled to the fortress. And the barbarians, following close upon them, slew on the spot most of their number--those who did not succeed in getting inside the circuit-wall in time--and then placed ladders against the wall and attempted the ascent. Some also began burning the houses outside the fortress. And the Romans who resided habitually in the fortress, being terror-stricken at what was taking place, at first opened the small gate and received the soldiers as they fled in complete disorder. But when they saw the barbarians close at hand and pressing upon the fugitives, fearing that they would charge in with them, they closed the gates as quickly as they could, and letting down ropes from the battlement, saved a number by drawing them up, and among them Conon himself. But the barbarians scaled the wall by means of their ladders and came within a little of capturing the fortress by storm, and would have succeeded if two men had not made a display of remarkable deeds by valorously pushing off the battlements those who had already got upon the wall; one of these two was a bodyguard of Belisarius, a Thracian named Ulimuth, and the other a bodyguard of Valerian, named Gouboulgoudou, a Massagete by birth. These two men had happened by some chance to come by ship to Ancon a little before; and in this struggle, by warding off with their swords those who were scaling the wall, they saved the fortress contrary to expectation, but they themselves were carried from the battlement half dead, their whole bodies hacked with many wounds. At that time it was reported to Belisarius that Narses had come with a great army from Byzantium and was in Picenum. Now this Narses[186] was a eunuch and guardian of the royal treasures, but for the rest keen and more energetic than would be expected of a eunuch. And five thousand soldiers followed him, of whom the several detachments were commanded by different men, among whom were Justinus, the general of Illyricum, and another Narses, who had previously come to the land of the Romans as a deserter from the Armenians who are subject to the Persians; with him had come his brother Aratius,[187] who, as it happened, had joined Belisarius a little before this with another army. And about two thousand of the Erulian nation also followed him, commanded by Visandus and Aluith and Phanitheus. FOOTNOTES: [186] He was an Armenian of Persia; see Book I. xv. 31. [187] Book I. xv. 31. XIV Now as to who in the world the Eruli are, and how they entered into alliance with the Romans, I shall forthwith explain.[188] They used to dwell beyond the Ister[189] River from of old, worshipping a great host of gods, whom it seemed to them holy to appease even by human sacrifices. And they observed many customs which were not in accord with those of other men. For they were not permitted to live either when they grew old or when they fell sick, but as soon as one of them was overtaken by old age or by sickness, it became necessary for him to ask his relatives to remove him from the world as quickly as possible. And these relatives would pile up a quantity of wood to a great height and lay the man on top of the wood, and then they would send one of the Eruli, but not a relative of the man, to his side with a dagger; for it was not lawful for a kinsman to be his slayer. And when the slayer of their relative had returned, they would straightway burn the whole pile of wood, beginning at the edges. And after the lire had ceased, they would immediately collect the bones and bury them in the earth. And when a man of the Eruli died, it was necessary for his wife, if she laid claim to virtue and wished to leave a fair name behind her, to die not long afterward beside the tomb of her husband by hanging herself with a rope. And if she did not do this, the result was that she was in ill repute thereafter and an offence to the relatives of her husband. Such were the customs observed by the Eruli in ancient times. But as time went on they became superior to all the barbarians who dwelt about them both in power and in numbers, and, as was natural, they attacked and vanquished them severally and kept plundering their possessions by force. And finally they made the Lombards, who were Christians, together with several other nations, subject and tributary to themselves, though the barbarians of that region were not accustomed to that sort of thing; but the Eruli were led to take this course by love of money and a lawless spirit. [X]When, however, Anastasius took over the Roman empire, the Eruli, having no longer anyone in the world whom they could assail, laid down their arms and remained quiet, and they observed peace in this way for a space of three years. But the people themselves, being exceedingly vexed, began to abuse their leader Rodolphus without restraint, and going to him constantly they called him cowardly and effeminate, and railed at him in a most unruly manner, taunting him with certain other names besides. And Rodolphus, being quite unable to bear the insult, marched against the Lombards, who were doing no wrong, without charging against them any fault or alleging any violation of their agreement, but bringing upon them a war which had no real cause. And when the Lombards got word of this, they sent to Rodolphus and made enquiry and demanded that he should state the charge on account of which the Eruli were coming against them in arms, agreeing that if they had deprived the Eruli of any of the tribute, then they would instantly pay it with large interest; and if their grievance was that only a moderate tribute had been imposed upon them, then the Lombards would never be reluctant to make it greater. Such were the offers which the envoys made, but Rodolphus with a threat sent them away and marched forward. And they again sent other envoys to him on the same mission and supplicated him with many entreaties. And when the second envoys had fared in the same way, a third embassy came to him and forbade the Eruli on any account to bring upon them a war without excuse. For if they should come against them with such a purpose, they too, not willingly, but under the direst necessity, would array themselves against their assailants, calling upon God as their witness, the slightest breath of whose favour, turning the scales, would be a match for all the strength of men; and He, in all likelihood, would be moved by the causes of the war and would determine the issue of the fight for both sides accordingly. So they spoke, thinking in this way to terrify their assailants, but the Eruli, shrinking from nothing whatever, decided to meet the Lombards in battle. And when the two armies came close to one another, it so happened that the sky above the Lombards was obscured by a sort of cloud, black and very thick, but above the Eruli it was exceedingly clear. And judging by this one would have supposed that the Eruli were entering the conflict to their own harm; for there ran be no more forbidding portent than this for barbarians as they go into battle. However, the Eruli gave no heed even to this, but in absolute disregard of it they advanced against their enemy with utter contempt, estimating the outcome of war by mere superiority of numbers. But when the battle came to close quarters, many of the Eruli perished and Rodolphus himself also perished, and the rest fled at full speed, forgetting all their courage. And since their enemy followed them up, the most of them fell on the field of battle and only a few succeeded in saving themselves. DATE: [X]491 A.D. For this reason the Eruli were no longer able to tarry in their ancestral homes, but departing from there as quickly as possible they kept moving forward, traversing the whole country which is beyond the Ister River, together with their wives and children. But when they reached a land where the Rogi dwelt of old, a people who had joined the Gothic host and gone to Italy, they settled in that place. But since they were pressed by famine, because they were in a barren land, they removed from there not long afterward, and came to a place close to the country of the Gepaedes.[190] And at first the Gepaedes permitted them to dwell there and be neighbours to them, since they came as suppliants. But afterwards for no good reason the Gepaedes began to practise unholy deeds upon them. For they violated their women and seized their cattle and other property, and abstained from no wickedness whatever, and finally began an unjust attack upon them. And the Eruli, unable to bear all this any longer, crossed the Ister River and decided to live as neighbours to the Romans in that region; this was during the reign of the Emperor Anastasius, who received them with great friendliness and allowed them to settle where they were. But a short time afterwards these barbarians gave him offence by their lawless treatment of the Romans there, and for this reason he sent an army against them. And the Romans, after defeating them in battle, slew most of their number, and had ample opportunity to destroy them all. But the remainder of them threw themselves upon the mercy of the generals and begged them to spare their lives and to have them as allies and servants of the emperor thereafter. And when Anastasius learned this, he was pleased, and consequently a number of the Eruli were left; however, they neither became allies of the Romans, nor did they do them any good. But when Justinian took over the empire,[Y] he bestowed upon them good lands and other possessions, and thus completely succeeded in winning their friendship and persuaded them all to become Christians. As a result of this they adopted a gentler manner of life and decided to submit themselves wholly to the laws of the Christians, and in keeping with the terms of their alliance they are generally arrayed with the Romans against their enemies. They are still, however, faithless toward them, and since they are given to avarice, they are eager to do violence to their neighbours, feeling no shame at such conduct. And they mate in an unholy manner, especially men with asses, and they are the basest of all men and utterly abandoned rascals. DATE: [Y]527 A.D. Afterwards, although some few of them remained at peace with the Romans, as will be told by me in the following narrative,[191] all the rest revolted for the following reason. The Eruli, displaying their beastly and fanatical character against their own "rex," one Ochus by name, suddenly killed the man for no good reason at all, laying against him no other charge than that they wished to be without a king thereafter. And yet even before this, while their king did have the title, he had practically no advantage over any private citizen whomsoever. But all claimed the right to sit with him and eat with him, and whoever wished insulted him without restraint; for no men in the world are less bound by convention or more unstable than the Eruli. Now when the evil deed had been accomplished, they were immediately repentant. For they said that they were not able to live without a ruler and without a general; so after much deliberation it seemed to them best in every way to summon one of their royal family from the island of Thule. And the reason for this I shall now explain. FOOTNOTES: [188] Cf. Book IV. iv. 30. [189] Modern Danube. [190] Cf. Book III. ii. 2-6, VII. xxiv. 10. [191] Book VII. xxxiv. 42. XV When the Eruli, being defeated by the Lombards in the above-mentioned battle, migrated from their ancestral homes, some of them, as has been told by me above,[192] made their home in the country of Illyricum, but the rest were averse to crossing the Ister River, but settled at the very extremity of the world; at any rate, these men, led by many of the royal blood, traversed all the nations of the Sclaveni one after the other, and after next crossing a large tract of barren country, they came to the Varni,[193] as they are called. After these they passed by the nations of the Dani,[194] without suffering violence at the hands of the barbarians there. Coming thence to the ocean, they took to the sea, and putting in at Thule,[195] remained there on the island. Now Thule is exceedingly large; for it is more than ten times greater than Britain. And it lies far distant from it toward the north. On this island the land is for the most part barren, but in the inhabited country thirteen very numerous nations are settled; and there are kings over each nation. In that place a very wonderful thing takes place each year. For the sun at the time of the summer solstice never sets for forty days, but appears constantly during this whole time above the earth. But not less than six months later, at about the time of the winter solstice, the sun is never seen on this island for forty days, but never-ending night envelops it; and as a result of this dejection holds the people there during this whole time, because they are unable by any means to mingle with one another during this interval. And although I was eager to go to this island and become an eye-witness of the things I have told, no opportunity ever presented itself. However, I made enquiry from those who come to us from the island as to how in the world they are able to reckon the length of the days, since the sun never rises nor sets there at the appointed times. And they gave me an account which is true and trustworthy. For they said that the sun during those forty days does not indeed set just as has been stated, but is visible to the people there at one time toward the east, and again toward the west. Whenever, therefore, on its return, it reaches the same place on the horizon where they had previously been accustomed to see it rise, they reckon in this way that one day and night have passed. When, however, the time of the nights arrives, they always take note of the courses of the moon and stars and thus reckon the measure of the days. And when a time amounting to thirty-five days has passed in this long night, certain men are sent to the summits of the mountains--for this is the custom among them--and when they are able from that point barely to see the sun, they bring back word to the people below that within five days the sun will shine upon them. And the whole population celebrates a festival at the good news, and that too in the darkness. And this is the greatest festival which the natives of Thule have; for, I imagine, these islanders always become terrified, although they see the same thing happen every year, fearing that the sun may at some time fail them entirely. But among the barbarians who are settled in Thule, one nation only, who are called the Scrithiphini, live a kind of life akin to that of the beasts. For they neither wear garments of cloth nor do they walk with shoes on their feet, nor do they drink wine nor derive anything edible from the earth. For they neither till the land themselves, nor do their women work it for them, but the women regularly join the men in hunting, which is their only pursuit. For the forests, which are exceedingly large, produce for them a great abundance of wild beasts and other animals, as do also the mountains which rise there. And they feed exclusively upon the flesh of the wild beasts slain by them, and clothe themselves in their skins, and since they have neither flax nor any implement with which to sew, they fasten these skins together by the sinews of the animals, and in this way manage to cover the whole body. And indeed not even their infants are nursed in the same way as among the rest of mankind. For the children of the Scrithiphini do not feed upon the milk of women nor do they touch their mother's breast, but they are nourished upon the marrow of the animals killed in the hunt, and upon this alone. Now as soon as a woman gives birth to a child, she throws it into a skin and straightway hangs it to a tree, and after putting marrow into its mouth she immediately sets out with her husband for the customary hunt. For they do everything in common and likewise engage in this pursuit together. So much for the daily life of these barbarians. But all the other inhabitants of Thule, practically speaking, do not differ very much from the rest of men, but they reverence in great numbers gods and demons both of the heavens and of the air, of the earth and of the sea, and sundry other demons which are said to be in the waters of springs and rivers. And they incessantly offer up all kinds of sacrifices, and make oblations to the dead, but the noblest of sacrifices, in their eyes, is the first human being whom they have taken captive in war; for they sacrifice him to Ares, whom they regard as the greatest god. And the manner in which they offer up the captive is not by sacrificing him on an altar only, but also by hanging him to a tree, or throwing him among thorns, or killing him by some of the other most cruel forms of death. Thus, then, do the inhabitants of Thule live. And one of their most numerous nations is the Gauti, and it was next to them that the incoming Eruli settled at the time in question. On the present occasion,[196] therefore, the Eruli who dwelt among the Romans, after the murder of their king had been perpetrated by them, sent some of their notables to the island of Thule to search out and bring back whomsoever they were able to find there of the royal blood. And when these men reached the island, they found many there of the royal blood, but they selected the one man who pleased them most and set out with him on the return journey. But this man fell sick and died when he had come to the country of the Dani. These men therefore went a second time to the island and secured another man, Datius by name. And he was followed by his brother Aordus and two hundred youths of the Eruli in Thule. But since much time passed while they were absent on this journey, it occurred to the Eruli in the neighbourhood of Singidunum that they were not consulting their own interests in importing a leader from Thule against the wishes of the Emperor Justinian. They therefore sent envoys to Byzantium, begging the emperor to send them a ruler of his own choice. And he straightway sent them one of the Eruli who had long been sojourning in Byzantium, Suartuas by name. At first the Eruli welcomed him and did obeisance to him and rendered the customary obedience to his commands; but not many days later a messenger arrived with the tidings that the men from the island of Thule were near at hand. And Suartuas commanded them to go out to meet those men, his intention being to destroy them, and the Eruli, approving his purpose, immediately went with him. But when the two forces were one day's journey distant from each other, the king's men all abandoned him at night and went over of their own accord to the newcomers, while he himself took to flight and set out unattended for Byzantium. Thereupon the emperor earnestly undertook with all his power to restore him to his office, and the Eruli, fearing the power of the Romans, decided to submit themselves to the Gepaedes. This, then, was the cause of the revolt of the Eruli.[197] FOOTNOTES: [192] This has not been stated before by Procopius. [193] Or Varini, a tribe living on the coast near the mouth of the Rhine. [194] A group of tribes inhabiting the Danish Peninsula. [195] Probably Iceland or the northern portion of the Scandinavian peninsula, which was then regarded as an island and called "Scanza." The name of Thule was familiar from earlier times. It was described by the navigator Pytheas in the age of Alexander the Great, and he claimed to have visited the island. It was variously placed, but always considered the northernmost land in the world--"ultima Thule." [196] Cf. Chap. xiv. 42. [197] Chap. xiv. 37 introduces this topic. INDEX Acarnania, a Roman fleet winters there, V. xxiv. 20 Adegis, bodyguard of Belisarius, VI. vii. 27 Adriatic Sea, of which the modern Adriatic was an inlet, V. xv. 16 Aemilia, district in northern Italy, on the right of the Po, V. xv. 30 Aeneas, son of Anchises, meets Diomedes at Beneventus and receives from him the Palladium, V. xv. 9 Aeschmanus, a Massagete, bodyguard of Belisarius, V. xvi. 1 Aetolia, a Roman fleet winters there, V. xxiv. 20 Africa, mentioned in the oracle regarding Mundus, V. vii. 6, 7 Alamani, barbarian people of Gaul, V. xii. 11 Alani, a Gothic nation, V. i. 3 Alaric, leader of the Visigoths, V. i. 3; deposited plunder of Rome in Carcasiana, V. xii. 41 Alaric the Younger, ruler of the Visigoths; betrothed to Theodichusa, daughter of Theoderic, V. xii. 22; attacked by the Franks, V. xii. 33; appeals to Theoderic, V. xii. 34; meets the Franks in battle and is slain, V. xii. 35-40; father of Giselic, V. xii. 43 Alba, town in Picenum, VI. vii. 25 Albani, a people north of Liguria, V. xv. 29 Albani, town near Rome, V. vi. 7; occupied by Gontharis, VI. iv. 8, vii. 20, 23 Albanum, VI. vii. 23, see Albani Albilas, Gothic commander of Urviventus, VI. xi. 1 Albis, a Goth sent as envoy to Belisarius, V. xx. 7 Alexander, Roman senator, envoy of Justinian, V. iii. 13, vi. 26; meets Amalasuntha in Ravenna, V. iii. 16; his report, V. iii. 29; brother of Athanasius, V. vi. 26 Alexander, commander of cavalry, VI. v. 1 Aluith, Erulian commander, VI. xiii. 18 Alps, form boundary between Gaul and Liguria, V. xii. 4, 20; distance from Milan, VI. vii. 37, 38; definition of the word "alps," V. xii. 3, 4. Amalaberga, daughter of Amalafrida, betrothed to Hermenefridus, V. xii. 22; sister of Theodatus, V. xiii. 2 Amalafrida, sister of Theoderic and mother of Theodatus, V. iii. 1; mother of Amalaberga, V. xii. 22 Amalaric, grandson of Theoderic and son of Theodichusa, V. xii. 43, 46; becomes king of the Visigoths, with Theoderic as regent, V. xii. 46; marries the daughter of the Frankish king, and divides Gaul with the Goths and his cousin Atalaric, V. xiii. 4; receives back the treasures of Carcasiana, V. xiii. 6; gives offence to Theudibert by his treatment of his wife, V. xiii. 9, 10; defeated by him in battle and slain, V. xiii. 11 Amalasuntha, daughter of Theoderic, V. ii. 23, xxiv. 25; mother of Atalaric, V. ii. 1; acts as regent for him, V. ii. 3; her plan for his education frustrated by the Goths, V. ii. 6 ff.; allows him to be trained according to the ideas of the Goths, V. ii. 18 ff.; her conflict with the Gothic nobles, V. ii. 20-22; sends a ship to Epidamnus, V. ii. 26 ff., iii. 14; later recalls it, V. ii. 29; her concern at the failing health of Atalaric, V. iii. 10, 11; plans to hand over Italy to Justinian, V. iii. 12; accused by Justinian, V. iii. 15-18; meets Alexander in Ravenna, V. iii. 16; receives Justinian's letter, V. iii. 16-18; her reply, V. iii. 19-27; sends envoys agreeing to hand over all Italy to Justinian, V. iii. 28, 29; hears accusations against Theodatus, V. iv. 1; compels him to make restitution, V. iv. 2; attempts to gain his support, V. iv. 4 ff.; deceived by him, V. iv. 10; imprisoned, V. iv. 13-15; compelled by him to write Justinian, V. iv. 16; the envoy Peter sent to treat with her, V. iv. 18; championed by Justinian, V. iv. 22; her death, V. iv. 25-27, 31; her death foreshadowed by the crumbling of a mosaic in Naples, V. xxiv. 25; her noble qualities, V. iv. 29; her ability and justice as a ruler, V. ii. 3-5; mother of Matasuntha, V. xi. 27 Anastasius, Roman Emperor, VI. xiv. 10; makes alliance with the Eruli, VI. xiv. 28, 32 Anchises, father of Aeneas, V. xv. 9 Ancon, fortress on the Ionian Gulf, VI. xi. 4, 21; its strong position, VI. xiii. 6; taken by Belisarius, VI. xi. 5; attacked by the Goths, VI. xiii. 5 ff.; port of Auximus, VI. xiii. 7; distance from Ariminum, VI. xi. 4; and from Auximus, VI. xiii. 7 Antae, a people settled near the Ister River; serve in the Roman army, V. xxvii. 2 Anthium, used as a harbour by the Romans, V. xxvi. 17; distance from Ostia, _ibid._ Antiochus, a Syrian, resident in Naples, favours the Roman party, V. viii. 21 Antonina, wife of Belisarius, V. xviii. 43; departs for Naples, VI. iv. 6; arriving in Taracina, proceeds to Campania, VI. iv. 14, where she assists Procopius, VI. iv. 20; assists in shipping provisions from Ostia to Rome, VI. vii. 4 ff.; mother of Photius, V. v. 5, xviii. 18; mother-in-law of Ildiger, VI. vii. 15 Aordus, an Erulian, brother of Datius, VI. xv. 29 Appian Way, built by Appius, V. xiv. 6; description of the road, V. xiv. 6-11; travelled by refugees from Rome, V. xxv. 4; Gothic camp near it, VI. iii. 3, iv. 3, 17 Appius, Roman consul, builder of the Appian Way, V. xiv. 6-9 Apulians, a people of Southern Italy, V. xv. 21; voluntarily submit to Belisarius, V. xv. 3 Aquileia, city in northern Italy, V. i. 22 Aquilinus, bodyguard of Belisarius; performs a remarkable feat, VI. v. 18, 19 Aratius, commander of Armenians, who had deserted from the Persians, VI. xiii. 17; joins Belisarius in Italy with an army, _ibid._ Arborychi, barbarians in Gaul, formerly subject to the Romans, V. xii. 9; become Roman soldiers, V. xii. 13; absorbed by the Germans, V. xii. 13-15; receive land from Roman soldiers, V. xii. 17 Ares, worshipped by the inhabitants of Thule, VI. xv. 25 Argos, Diomedes repulsed thence, V. xv. 8 Arians, their views not held by the Franks, V. v. 9; not trusted by Roman soldiers in Gaul, V. xii. 17; Arian heresy espoused by Amalaric, V. xiii. 10 Ariminum, city of northern Italy, occupied by John, VI. x. 5 ff.; abandoned by the Goths, VI. x. 6; besieged by Vittigis, VI. xi. 3, xii. 1 ff.; Ildiger and Martinus sent thither, VI. xi. 4, 21; distance from Ravenna, VI. x. 5; from Ancon, VI. xi. 4 Armenians, Narses an Armenian, VI. xiii. 17 Artasires, a Persian, bodyguard of Belisarius, VI. ii. 10 Arzes, bodyguard of Belisarius; his remarkable wound, VI. ii. 16-18; treatment of his wound, VI. ii. 25-29; of the household of Belisarius, VI. ii. 25 Asclepiodotus, of Naples, a trained speaker; with Pastor opposes the plan to surrender the city, V. viii. 22 ff.; they address the Neapolitans, V. viii. 29-40; bring forward the Jews, V. viii. 41; his effrontery after the capture of the city, V. x. 39, 43-45; bitterly accused by Stephanus, V. x. 40-42; killed by a mob, V. x. 46 Asia, the continent adjoining Libya, V. xii. 1 Asinarian Gate, in Rome, V. xiv. 14 Asinarius, Gothic commander in Dalmatia, V. vii. 1, xvi. 8; gathers an army among the Suevi, V. xvi. 12, 14; joins Uligisalus and proceeds to Salones, V. xvi. 15, 16 Assyrians, V. xxiv. 36 Atalaric, grandson of Theoderic; succeeds him as king of the Goths, V. ii. 1; reared by his mother Amalasuntha, _ibid._; who attempts to educate him, V. ii. 6 ff.; corrupted by the Goths, V. ii. 19 ff.; receives the envoy Alexander, V. vi. 26; divides Gaul with his cousin Amalaric, V. xiii. 4, 5; returns the treasures of Carcasiana to him, V. xiii. 6; attacked by a wasting disease, V. iii. 10, iv. 5; his death, V. iv. 4, 19; his quaestor Fidelius, V. xiv. 5; his death foreshadowed by the crumbling of a mosaic in Naples, V. xxiv. 24 Athanasius, brother of Alexander, V. vi. 26; envoy of Justinian, V. vi. 25, vii. 24 Athena, her statue stolen from Troy, V. xv. 9; given to Aeneas, V. xv. 10; different views as to the existence of the statue in the time of Procopius, V. xv. 11-14; a copy of it in the temple of Fortune in Rome, V. xv. 11; Greek statues of, V. xv. 13 Athenodorus, an Isaurian, bodyguard of Belisarius, V. xxix. 20, 21 Attila, leader of the Huns, V. i. 3 Augustulus, name given to Augustus, Emperor of the West, V. i. 2; dethroned by Odoacer, V. i. 7, VI. vi. 16 Augustus, first emperor of the Romans; allowed the Thuringians to settle in Gaul, V. xii. 10; builder of a great bridge over the Narnus, V. xvii. 11 Augustus, see Augustulus Aulon, city on the Ionian Gulf, V. iv. 21 Aurelian Gate, in Rome, called also the Gate of Peter, V. xix. 4, xxviii. 15; near the Tomb of Hadrian, V. xxii. 12 Auximus, city in Picenum; its strong position, VI. x. 3; strongly garrisoned by the Goths, VI. xi. 2; metropolis of Picenum, _ibid._; distance from its port Ancon, VI. xiii. 7 Balan, barbarian name for a white-faced horse, V. xviii. 6, 7 Ballista, description of, V. xxi. 14-18; could shoot only straight out, V. xxii. 21 Belisarius, his victory over the Vandals, V. v. 1; sent by sea against the Goths, V. v. 2; commander-in-chief of the army, V. v. 4; sent first to Sicily, V. v. 6, 7, xiii. 14; takes Catana and the other cities of Sicily, except Panormus, by surrender, V. v. 12; takes Panormus, V. v. 12-16; enjoys great fame, V. v. 17 ff.; lays down the consulship in Syracuse, V. v. 18, 19; given power to make settlement with Theodatus, V. vi. 25, 26, 27; ordered to hasten to Italy, crosses from Sicily, V. vii. 27, viii. 1; Ebrimous comes over to him as a deserter, V. viii. 3; reaching Naples, attempts to bring about its surrender, V. viii. 5 ff.; failing in this, begins a siege, V. viii. 42; does not succeed in storming the walls, V. viii. 43; cuts the aqueduct, V. viii. 45, ix. 12; despairs of success in the siege, V. ix. 8, 10; learns of the possibility of entering Naples by the aqueduct, V. ix. 10 ff.; makes necessary preparations for the enterprise, V. ix. 18-21; makes final effort to persuade the Neapolitans to surrender, V. ix. 22 ff.; carries out the plan of entering the city by the aqueduct, V. x. 1 ff.; captures the city, V. x. 21 ff.; addresses the army, V. x. 29-34; guards the Gothic prisoners from harm, V. x. 37; addressed by Asclepiodotus, V. x. 39 ff.; forgives the Neapolitans for killing him, V. x. 48; prepares to march on Rome, leaving a garrison in Naples, V. xiv. 1, 4; garrisons Cumae, V. xiv. 2; invited to Rome by the citizens, V. xiv. 5; enters Rome, V. xiv. 14; sends Leuderis and the keys of Rome to Justinian, V. xiv. 15; repairs and improves the defences of the city, _ibid._; prepares for a siege in spite of the complaints of the citizens, V. xiv. 16, 17; places ballistae and "wild asses" on the wall, V. xxi. 14, 18; guards the gates with "wolves," V. xxi. 19; smallness of his army in Rome, V. xxii. 17, xxiv. 2; receives the submission of part of Samnium, Calabria, and Apulia, V. xv. 1-3; in control of all southern Italy, V. xv. 15; sends troops to occupy many strongholds north of Rome, V. xvi. 1 ff.; Vittigis fearful that he would not catch him in Rome, V. xvi. 20, 21, xvii. 8; recalls some of his troops from Tuscany, V. xvii. 1, 2; fortifies the Mulvian bridge, V. xvii. 14; comes thither with troops, V. xviii. 2; unexpectedly engages with the Goths and fights a battle, V. xviii. 3 ff.; his excellent horse, V. xviii. 6; shut out of Rome by the Romans, V. xviii. 20; drives the Goths from the moat, V. xviii. 26, 27; enters the city, V. xviii. 28; disposes the guards of the city, V. xviii. 34; receives a false report of the capture of the city, V. xviii. 35-37; provides against a second occurrence of this kind, V. xviii. 38, 39; ridiculed by the Romans, V. xviii. 42; persuaded to take a little food late in the night, V. xviii. 43; arranges for the guarding of each gate, V. xix. 14-18; his name given in play to one of the Samnite children, V. xx. 1-4; omen of victory for him, V. xx. 4; stops up the aqueducts, V. xix. 18, VI. ix. 6; operates the mills on the Tiber, V. xix. 19 ff.; reproached by the citizens, V. xx. 6, 7; receives envoys from Vittigis, V. xx. 8; his reply to them, V. xx. 15-18; appoints Fidelius praetorian prefect, V. xx. 20; report of the Gothic envoys regarding him, V. xxi. 1; as the Goths advance against the wall, shoots two of their number with his own bow, V. xxii. 2-5; checks their advance, V. xxii. 7-9; assigns Constantinus to the Aurelian Gate, V. xxii. 15; prevented from rebuilding "Broken Wall," V. xxiii. 5; summoned to the Vivarium, V. xxiii. 13; directs the defence there with signal success, V. xxiii. 14-23; praised by the Romans, V. xxiii. 27; writes to the emperor asking for reinforcements, V. xxiv. 1 ff.; receives from him an encouraging reply, V. xxiv. 21; sends women, children, and servants to Naples, V. xxv. 2; uses Roman artisans as soldiers on the wall, V. xxv. 11, 12; exiles Silverius and some senators from Rome, V. xxv. 13, 14; precautions against corruption of the guards, V. xxv. 15, 16; against surprise at night, V. xxv. 17; unable to defend Portus, V. xxvi. 18; encouraged by the arrival of Martinus and Valerian, V. xxvii. 2; outwits the Goths in three attacks, V. xxvii. 4-14; and likewise when they try his tactics, V. xxvii. 18-23; publicly praised by the Romans, V. xxvii. 25; explains his confidence in the superiority of the Roman army, V. xxvii. 26-29; compelled by the impetuosity of the Romans to risk a pitched battle, V. xxviii. 2, 3; addresses the army, V. xxviii. 5-14; leads out his forces and disposes them for battle, V. xxviii. 15-19; commands in person at the great battle, V. xxix. 16 ff.; grieves at the death of Chorsamantis, VI. i. 34; provides safe-conduct of Euthalius, VI. ii. 1-24; appealed to by the citizens to fight a decisive battle, VI. iii. 12 ff.; his reply, VI. iii. 23-32; sends Procopius to Naples, VI. iv. 1; garrisons strongholds near Rome, VI. iv. 4 ff.; provides for the safe entry of John's troops into Rome, VI. v. 5 ff.; opens the Flaminian Gate, VI. v. 8; out-generals the Goths and wins a decisive victory, VI. v. 9 ff.; his dialogue with the envoys of the Goths, VI. vi. 3 ff.; arranges an armistice with the Goths, VI. vi. 36, vii. 10; goes to Ostia, VI. vii. 3, 4; receives envoys from the Goths, VI. vii. 21 ff.; sends out cavalry from Rome, VI. vii. 25 ff.; appealed to for help from Milan, VI. vii. 35, 38; his disagreement with Constantinus, VI. viii. 1 ff.; puts him to death, VI. viii. 17, 18; hearing of the strange lights in the aqueduct makes investigation, VI. ix. 9-11; learns of the stratagem planned by Vittigis, VI. ix. 20; punishes his accomplice, VI. ix. 22; writes to John to begin operations in Picenum, VI. x. 1, 7; arms his men and attacks the departing Goths, VI. x. 14 ff.; sends messengers to John in Ariminum, VI. xi. 4-7; sends assistance to Milan, VI. xii. 26; moves against Vittigis, VI. xiii. 1; takes Tudera and Clusium by surrender, VI. xiii. 2, 3; garrisons them, VI. xiii. 4; receives reinforcements, VI. xiii. 16-18 Beneventus (Beneventum), city in Samnium, called in ancient times Maleventus, V. xv. 4; its strong winds, V. xv. 7; founded by Diomedes, V. xv. 8; relics of the Caledonian boar preserved in, _ibid._; meeting of Diomedes and Aeneas at, V. xv. 9 Bergomum, city near Milan; occupied by Mundilas, VI. xii. 40 Bessas, of Thrace, Roman general, V. v. 3; by birth a Goth, V. xvi. 2; his ability, V. xvi. 2, 3; at the capture of Naples, V. x. 2, 5, 10, 11, 12, 20; sent against Narnia, V. xvi. 2; takes Narnia by surrender, V. xvi. 3; recalled to Rome, V. xvii. 1, 2; returning slowly, meets the Goths in battle, V. xvii. 4, 5; arrives in Rome, V. xvii. 6; in command of the Praenestine Gate, sends a false report of the capture of the city, V. xviii. 35, xix. 15; summons Belisarius to the Vivarium, V. xxiii. 13; sent out against the Goths by Belisarius, V. xxvii. 18; his remarkable fighting, VI. i. 3; saves Belisarius from Constantinus, VI. viii. 15 Black Gulf, modern Gulf of Saros, V. xv. 18 Bochas, a Massagete, bodyguard of Belisarius, VI. ii. 10; sent to the Plain of Nero, VI. ii. 20; helps to rout the Goths, but is surrounded and wounded, VI. ii. 21-23; after inflicting great losses upon the Goths, VI. ii. 36; rescued by Valerian and Martinus, VI. ii. 24; dies of his wound, VI. ii. 32 Boetius, a Roman senator, son-in-law of Symmachus, V. i. 32; his death, V. i. 34; his children receive from Amalasuntha his property, V. ii. 5 Britain, compared in size with Thule, VI. xv. 4; offered to the Goths by Belisarius, VI. vi. 28; much larger than Sicily, _ibid._ Britons, V. xxiv. 36 Broken Wall, a portion of the defences of Rome, V. xxiii. 3, 4; not rebuilt by Belisarius, V. xxiii. 5; never attacked by the Goths, V. xxiii. 6, 7; never rebuilt, V. xxiii. 8 Bruttii, a people of Southern Italy, V. xv. 22, 23 Bruttium, V. viii. 4 Burgundians, a barbarian people of Gaul, V. xii. 11; attacked by the Franks, V. xii. 23; alliance formed against them by the Franks and Goths, V. xii. 24, 25; driven back by the Franks, V. xii. 26, 28-30; and completely subjugated, V. xiii. 3; sent by Theudibert as allies to the Goths, VI. xii. 38, 39 Burnus, town in Liburnia, V. xvi. 13, 15 Byzantines, their identification of the Palladium, V. xv. 14 Byzantium, ashes from Vesuvius once fell there, VI. iv. 27; senate house of, V. v. 19 Cadmean victory, V. vii. 5 Caesar, see Augustus Caesena, fortress in northern Italy, V. i. 15; distance from Ravenna, _ibid._; garrisoned by Vittigis, VI. xi. 3 Calabria, in southern Italy, VI. v. 2 Calabrians, their location, V. xv. 21, 22; voluntarily submit to Belisarius, V. xv. 3 Calydonian boar, its tusks preserved in Beneventus, V. xv. 8 Campani, a people of southern Italy, V. xv. 22 Campania, its cities: Naples, V. viii. 5; and Cumae, V. xiv. 2; sought by Roman fugitives, V. xvii. 20; by refugees from Rome, V. xxv. 4, 10; by Procopius, VI. ix. 1 ff.; by Antonina, VI. iv. 14; Roman forces unite there, VI. v. 2; Procopius gathers soldiers and provisions in, VI. iv. 19; offered to Belisarius by the Goths, VI. vi. 30 Cappadocians, Theodoriscus and George, V. xxix. 20 Capua, terminus of the Appian Way, V. xiv. 6 Carcasiana, city in Gaul; battle fought near it, V. xii. 35 ff.; besieged by the Franks, V. xii. 41; siege raised at the approach of Theoderic, V. xii. 44; its treasures conveyed to Ravenna, V. xii. 47; later returned to Amalaric, V. xiii. 6 Carnii, a people of central Europe, V. xv. 27 Carthage, the ostensible destination of Belisarius' expedition, V. v. 6 Catana, in Sicily; taken by Belisarius, V. v. 12 Celtica, at the headwaters of the Po, V. i. 18 Centenarium, a sum of money, V. xiii. 14; cf. Book I. xxii. 4 Centumcellae, town in Italy; occupied by the Romans, VI. vii. 23; abandoned by the Goths, VI. vii. 18; distance from Rome, VI. vii. 19 Charybdis, the story of, located at the Strait of Messana, V. viii. 1 Chersonese (Thracian), the size of its isthmus, V. xv. 18 Chorsamantis, a Massagete, bodyguard of Belisarius; alone pursues the Goths to their camp, VI. i. 21-25; wounded in a second encounter, VI. i. 26, 27; goes out alone against the Goths and is killed, VI. i. 28-33 Chorsomanus, a Massagete, bodyguard of Belisarius, V. xvi. 1 Christ, His Apostle Peter, V. xix. 4 Christians, their disagreement regarding doctrine, V. iii. 5, 6; the following are mentioned as Christians: the Neapolitans, V. ix. 27; the Arborychi and Germans, V. xii. 15; the Lombards, VI. xiv. 9; the Eruli, VI. xiv. 33, 34; Christian teachings held in especial favour by the Romans, V. xxv. 23 Circaeum, mountain near Taracina, V. xi. 2; considered to be named from the Homeric Circe, _ibid._; its resemblance to an island, V. xi. 3, 4 Circe, her meeting with Odysseus, V. xi. 2 Cloadarius, ruler of the Franks; sanctions treaty with Theodatus, V. xiii. 27 Clusium, city in Tuscany; garrisoned by Vittigis, VI. xi. 1; surrenders to Belisarius, VI. xiii. 2, 3; garrisoned by him, VI. xiii. 4 Comum, city near Milan; occupied by Mundilas, VI. xii. 40 Conon, commander of Isaurians, VI. v. 1; proceeds to Ostia by sea, VI. v. 3; captures Ancon, VI. xi. 5; nearly loses it by a blunder, VI. xiii. 8 ff. Constantianus, commander of the royal grooms; sent to Illyricum, V. vii. 26; his successful campaign in Dalmatia, V. vii. 27-36; in control of the territory as far as Liburnia, V. xv. 15; prepares to defend Salones, V. xvi. 14, 15 Constantine I, said to have discovered the Palladium in Byzantium, V. xv. 14; his forum there, _ibid._ Constantinus, of Thrace, Roman general, V. v. 3; sent into Tuscany, V. xvi. 1; takes Spolitium and Perusia and certain other strongholds, V. xvi. 3; defeats a Gothic army and captures the commanders, V. xvi. 6, 7; recalled to Rome, V. xvii. 1-3; leaves garrisons in Perusia and Spolitium, V. xvii. 3; assigned to guard the Flaminian Gate, V. xix. 16; assigned to the Aurelian Gate and the adjoining wall, V. xxii. 15, 16; leaves the gate during an attack, V. xxii. 18; returns, V. xxii. 25; leads the Huns in a signally successful skirmish, VI. i. 4-10; his disagreement with Belisarius, VI. viii. 1 ff.; killed by his order, VI. viii. 17 Consul, this office held by Romans during the Gothic rule, VI. vi. 20; held by Appius, V. xiv. 6; by Theoderic, VI. vi. 16; by Belisarius, V. v. 19 Corinth, near the head of the Crisaean Gulf, V. xv. 17 Crisaean Gulf (the Corinthian Gulf), V. xv. 17 Croton, city in southern Italy, V. xv. 23 Cumae, coast city in Campania, V. xiv. 3; distance from Naples, _ibid._; garrisoned by Belisarius, V. xiv. 2; one of the only two fortresses in Campania, V. xiv. 2; the home of the Sibyl, V. xiv. 3 Cutilas, a Thracian, bodyguard of Belisarius, VI. ii. 10; his remarkable wound, VI. ii. 14, 15, 18; which causes his death, VI. ii. 30, 31 Dacians, a people of central Europe, V. xv. 27 Dalmatia, east of the Ionian Gulf, adjoining Precalis and Liburnia, V. xv. 25; counted in the western empire, _ibid._; its strong winds, V. xv. 5, 6; opposite to Italy, V. xv. 5, 7; Mundus sent thither by Justinian, V. v. 2; conquered by him, V. v. 11; invaded by the Goths, V. vii. 1 ff.; recovered for the empire by Constantianus, V. vii. 27-36; an army sent thither by Vittigis, V. xvi. 8, 9 Damianus, nephew of Valerian; sent from Rome with troops, VI. vii. 26; detained in Ariminum by John, VI. xi. 22 Dani, a barbarian nation in Europe, VI. xv. 3, 29 Datius, priest of Milan; asks aid of Belisarius, VI. vii. 35 Datius, brought as king from Thule by the Eruli, VI. xv. 29 December, last month in the Roman calendar, V. xiv. 14 Decennovium, river near Rome, V. xi. 2 Demetrius, of Philippi, envoy of Justinian, V. iii. 5, 13, 29 Demetrius, Roman commander of infantry, V. v. 3 Diogenes, bodyguard of Belisarius; sent out against the Goths, V. xxvii. 11, 12, VI. v. 9; sent to investigate the aqueduct, VI. ix. 9 Diomedes, son of Tydeus; founder of Beneventus, V. xv. 8; received the tusks of the Caledonian boar from his uncle Meleager, _ibid._; meets Aeneas there, V. xv. 9; gives the Palladium to him, V. xv. 9, 10 Dryus, city in southern Italy, called also Hydrus, V. xv. 20; VI. v. 1 Ebrimous, son-in-law of Theodatus; deserts to the Romans, V. viii. 3; honoured by the emperor, _ibid._ Egypt, traversed by the Nile, V. xii. 2; ancient statues of the Aegyptians, V. xv. 13 Elpidius, physician of Theoderic, V. i. 38 Ennes, commander of the Isaurians in the Roman army, V. v. 3; brother of Tarmutus, V. xxviii. 23; at the capture of Naples, V. x. 1, 3, 13; saves his brother, V. xxix. 42; sent to Milan with Isaurians, VI. xii. 27, 40 Ephesus, priest of, V. iii. 5 Epidamnus, situated on the sea at the limit of Epirus, V. ii. 24, xv. 24; Amalasuntha sends a ship thither, V. ii. 26, 28, iii. 14; Constantianus gathers an army there, V. vii. 27, 28 Epidaurus, on the eastern side of the Ionian Gulf, V. vii. 28, 32 Epirotes, a people east of the Ionian Gulf, adjoining Precalis, V. xv. 24 Epizephyrian Locrians, among the Bruttii, V. xv. 23 Eridanus, a name sometimes given the Po River, V. i. 18 Eruli, serving in the Roman army, VI. iv. 8, xiii. 18; their wanderings as a nation, alliances, customs, etc., VI. xiv. 1-34; their worthless character, VI. xiv. 35, 36, 41; some of them emigrate to Thule, VI. xv. 1 ff.; revolt from the Romans, VI. xiv. 37; kill their king and summon another from Thule, VI. xiv. 38, 42, xv. 27, 30; their king a figure-head, VI. xiv. 39, 40; decide to ask Justinian to nominate a king for them, VI. xv. 30 ff.; welcome Suartuas as king, VI. xv. 33; abandon him, VI. xv. 34, 35; submit to the Gepaedes, VI. xv. 36 Europe, the continent to the left of Gibraltar, V. xii. 1; its shape, rivers, population, etc., V. xii. 3 ff. Euthalius, comes to Taracina with money for the Roman soldiers, VI. ii. 1; secures safe-conduct from Belisarius, VI. ii. 2 ff.; arrives safely at nightfall, VI. ii. 6, 24 Fates, called "Fata" by the Romans, V. xxv. 19, 20 Fidelius, native of Milan, V. xiv. 5; previously quaestor to Atalaric, _ibid._; envoy of the Romans to Belisarius, _ibid._; praetorian prefect, sent to Milan in company with troops, VI. xii. 27, 28; taunts the Gothic envoys, V. xx. 19, 20; killed by the Goths, VI. xii. 34, 35 Flaminian Gate, in Rome; the Goths pass out through it, V. xiv. 14; threatened by a Gothic camp, V. xix. 2; next to the Pincian, V. xix. 16, xxiii. 3; held by Constantianus, V. xix. 16; closed by Belisarius, _ibid._, VI. v. 6; not attacked by the Goths, V. xxiii. 2; guarded by Ursicinus, V. xxiii. 3; opened by Belisarius, VI. v. 8, 12 Flaminian Way, road leading northward from Rome, VI. xi. 8; the strongholds Narnia, Spolitium, and Perusia on it, VI. xi. 9 Foederati, auxiliary troops, V. v. 2 Fortune, temple of, in Rome, V. xv. 11 Franks, "modern" name for the Germans, V. xi. 29, xii. 8; account of the growth of their kingdom up to the time of Procopius, V. xii. 1-xiii. 13; their ruler Theudibert, VI. xii. 38; persuaded by Justinian to ally themselves with him, V. v. 8-10, xiii. 28; their war with the Goths, V. xi. 17, 18, 28; occupy the Visigothic portion of Gaul, V. xiii. 11, 12; invited to form alliance with Theodatus, receiving the Gothic portion of Gaul, V. xiii. 14; Vittigis advises forming of such an alliance with them, V. xiii. 19-24; make the treaty with some reserve, V. xiii. 26-28; send Burgundians as allies, VI. xii. 38; have the Suevi subject to them, V. xv. 26; the nations north of Langovilla subject to them, V. xv. 29 Gadira, the strait of Gibraltar, V. xii. 1 Gaul, extending from the Pyrenees to Liguria, V. xii. 4; separated from Liguria by the Alps, V. xii. 4, 20, VI. vii. 37; its great extent, V. xii. 5, 6; its rivers, lakes, and population, V. xii. 7-11; formerly subject to the Romans, V. xii. 9; occupied by the Goths, V. xi. 16, 28; how the Franks became established there, V. xi. 29, xii. 1 ff.; partly occupied by the Visigoths, V. xii. 12, 20; guarded by Roman soldiers, V. xii. 16; divided between the Franks and Goths, V. xii. 32, 45; really under the sway of Theoderic, V. xii. 47; divided between the Goths and Visigoths, V. xiii. 4, 5; the Visigothic portion taken over by the Franks, V. xiii. 12; Visigoths retire thence to Spain, V. xiii. 13; the Gothic portion offered to the Franks as the price of alliance with Theodatus, V. xiii. 14; held by the Goths under Marcias, V. xiii. 15, xvi. 7; threatened by the Franks, V. xiii. 16; given to them by Vittigis, V. xiii. 26, 27 Gauti, nation on the island of Thule, VI. xv. 26 Gelimer, king of the Vandals, V. v. 1, vi. 2, xxix. 8 Genoa, its location, VI. xii. 29 George, a Cappadocian, bodyguard of Martinus, conspicuous for his valour, V. xxix. 20, 21 Gepaedes, a people of southern Europe; their war with the Goths, V. iii. 15, xi. 5; their relations with the Eruli, VI. xiv. 25-27; who submit to them, VI. xv. 36 Germans, called also Franks, _q.v._ Getic, the "Getic peril," V. xxiv. 29, 30; equivalent to "Gothic," V. xxiv. 30 Gibimer, Gothic commander, stationed in Clusium, VI. xi. 1 Giselic, illegitimate son of Alaric; chosen king over the Visigoths, V. xii. 43; his death, V. xii. 46 Gladiators, VI. i. 5 Gontharis, Roman commander; occupies Albani, VI. iv. 8 Goths, used throughout to indicate the Ostro-Goths; called also "Getic," V. xxiv. 30; their fortunes previous to the war with Justinian, V. i. 1 ff.; form alliance with the Franks against the Burgundians, V. xii. 24, 25; their crafty hesitation, V. xii. 26, 27; reproached by their allies, V. xii. 31; secure a portion of Gaul, V. xii. 32; mingle with the Visigoths, V. xii. 49; divide Gaul with the Visigoths, V. xiii. 4, 5, 7, 8; remit the tribute imposed by Theoderic, V. xiii. 6; ruled formerly over the peoples north of the Ionian Gulf, V. xv. 28; led into Italy by Theoderic, V. xvi. 2, VI. xiv. 24; prevented by Amalasuntha from injuring the Romans, V. ii. 5; their leaders hostile to her, V. iii. 11; oppose her in her effort to educate Atalaric, V. ii. 8 ff.; grieve at the death of Amalasuntha, V. iv. 28; defeated in Dalmatia, V. v. 11; enter Dalmatia again, V. vii. 1 ff.; again defeated, V. vii. 27-36; garrison Naples strongly, V. viii. 5; lose Naples, V. x. 26; dissatisfied with Theodatus, declare Vittigis king, V. xi. 1, 5; their war with the Franks, V. xi. 17, 18, 28; yield Gaul to them, V. xiii. 26; withdraw from Rome, V. xi. 26, xiv. 12-14; defeat the Romans at the Mulvian bridge, V. xviii. 3 ff.; establish six camps about Rome and begin the siege, V. xix. 2-5, 11, xxiv. 26; cut the aqueducts, V. xix. 13; assault the wall, V. xxi-xxiii.; capture Portus, V. xxvi. 14; outwitted in three attacks, V. xxvii. 6-14; again defeated when they try Belisarius' tactics, V. xxvii. 15-23; inferiority of their soldiers to the Romans, V. xxvii. 27; defeat the Romans in a pitched battle, V. xxix. 16 ff.; but suffer great losses in the Plain of Nero, VI. ii. 19 ff.; respect the church of Paul, VI. iv. 10; suffer famine and pestilence, VI. iv. 16, 17; retire from the camp near the Appian Way, VI. iv. 18; decide to abandon the siege, VI. vi. 1, 2; send envoys to Rome, VI. vi. 3; arrange an armistice with Belisarius, VI. vi. 36, vii. 13; abandon Portus, VI. vii. 16, 22; and Centumcellae, VI. vii. 18; and Albani, VI. vii. 20; attempt to enter Rome by stealth, VI. ix. 1 ff.; assault the Pincian Gate, VI. ix. 12 ff.; abandon Ariminum, VI. x. 6; raise the siege of Rome, VI. x. 8, 12, 13; defeated at the Mulvian Bridge, VI. x. 15 ff.; besiege Ariminum, VI. xii. 1 ff.; defeated at Ticinum, VI. xii. 31, 33; besiege Milan, VI. xii. 39, 40; no new laws made by the Gothic kings in Italy, VI. vi. 17; tolerant in religious matters, VI. vi. 18; respect the churches, VI. vi. 19; allowed all offices to be filled by Romans, _ibid._; Gothic language, V. x. 10; a Goth makes trouble for the Romans at the Salarian Gate, V. xxiii. 9; killed by a well-directed missile, V. xxiii. 10, 11 Gouboulgoudou, a Massagete, bodyguard of Valerian; renders signal service at Ancon, VI. xiii. 14, 15 Gratiana, city at the extremity of Illyricum, V. iii. 15, 17 Greece, V. xxiv. 20, xxv. 13; Magna Graecia, V. xv. 23 Greeks (Hellenes), include the Epirotes, V. xv. 24; their capture of Troy, V. xv. 9; Greek statues of Athena, V. xv. 13; Greek language, V. xviii. 6 Greeks, contemptuous term for the eastern Romans, V. xviii. 40, xxix. 11 Gripas, Gothic commander, in Dalmatia, V. vii. 1; defeated by Constantianus, V. vii. 27-36; retires to Ravenna, V. vii. 36 Hadrian, tomb of, near the Aurelian Gate, V. xxii. 12; its excellent construction and decoration, V. xxii. 13, 14; attacked by the Goths, V. xxii. 19 ff.; statues thereon torn down by the Romans and hurled upon the Goths, V. xxii. 22 Hebrews, treasures of their king Solomon taken from Rome by Alaric, V. xii. 42; a certain Hebrew makes a prophecy to Theodatus by the actions of swine, V. ix. 3-6; see also Jews Hellespont, V. xv. 18 Hermenefridus, ruler of the Thuringians, betrothed to Amalaberga, V. xii. 22; killed by the Franks, V. xiii. 1; wife of, escapes to Theodatus, V. xiii. 2 Herodian, Roman commander of infantry, V. v. 3; left in command of the Roman garrison in Naples, V. xiv. 1 Homer, his testimony as to the place where Odysseus met Circe, V. xi. 2, 4 Huns, in the Roman army, V. iii. 15, v. 4, xxvii. 2, 27; led by Constantinus in a signally successful skirmish, VI. i. 4-10; encamp at the church of Paul, VI. iv. 11; harass the Goths, VI. iv. 16; return to Rome, VI. iv. 18; see also Massagetae Hydrus, name of Dryus in Procopius' time, V. xv. 20 Hypatius, priest of Ephesus; envoy of Justinian, V. iii. 5, 13, 29 Iberia, home of Peranius, V. v. 3 Ildibert, ruler of the Franks, sanctions treaty with Theodatus, V. xiii. 27 Ildiger, son-in-law of Antonina; comes to Rome, VI. vii. 15; with Valerian, seizes Constantinus, VI. viii. 16; on guard at the Pincian Gate, VI. ix. 13; meets a Gothic attack, VI. ix. 14; sent by Belisarius with Martinus to Ariminum, VI. xi. 4, 8, 21; they capture Petra, VI. xi. 10-19; leave Ariminum, VI. xi. 22 Ilium, capture of, V. xv. 8, 9; entered by Diomedes and Odysseus as spies, V. xv. 9 Illyricum, Mundus general of, V. v. 2; Constantinus sent to, V. vii. 26; Justinus general of, VI. xiii. 17; Eruli settled in, VI. xv. 1; the city of Gratiana at its extremity, V. iii. 15; home of Peter, V. iii. 30 Innocentius, Roman commander of cavalry, V. v. 3, xvii. 17 Ionian Gulf, the modern Adriatic, V. i. 13, etc.; ends at Ravenna, V. xv. 19 Isaurians, in the army of Belisarius, V. v. 2; commanded by Ennes, V. v. 3, x. 1; render signal service at the capture of Naples, V. ix. 11 ff., 17-21, x. 1; a force of, reaches Naples, VI. v. 1; arrives in the harbour of Rome, VI. vii. 1; they fortify a camp, VI. vii. 2; guard ships at Ostia, VI. vii. 9; remain in Ostia, VI. vii. 12, 16; occupy Portus, VI. vii. 16, 22; occupy Ancon, VI. xi. 5; with John at Ariminum, VI. xii. 6, 9; sent to Milan under command of Ennes, VI. xii. 26, 27; Isaurian javelins, V. xxix. 42 Ister River, the modern Danube; boundary of Pannonia, V. xv. 27, etc.; Antae settled near its banks, V. xxvii. 2 Istria, adjoining Liburnia and Venetia, V. xv. 25 Italians, often coupled with "Goths," V. i. 1, etc.; their love for Theoderic, V. i. 29; grieve at the death of Amalasuntha, V. iv. 28 Italy, its inhabitants enumerated, V. xv. 16, 21-25; claimed by the barbarians, V. i. 4, VI. vi. 15, 17; neglected by the Romans until the Goths held it, VI. vi. 21; Amalasuntha agrees to hand it over to Justinian, V. iii. 28, iv. 18; offered to Justinian by Theodatus, V. vi. 21 Janus, his temple in Rome, V. xxv. 18, 19; one of the older gods, V. xxv. 19; his double-faced statue, V. xxv. 20, 21 Jerusalem, its capture by the Romans, V. xii. 42 Jews, supporting the Gothic party in Naples, V. viii. 41; offer stubborn resistance to the Romans at its capture, V. x. 24-26; see also Hebrews John, nephew of Vitalian, commander of Thracians, VI. v. 1; reaches Campania, VI. v. 2; approaches Rome, VI. v. 5; reaches Ostia, VI. vii. 1; forms a barricade of wagons, VI. vii. 2; sent out from Rome by Belisarius, VI. vii. 25 ff.; instructed by Belisarius to begin operations, VI. x. 1; defeats and kills Ulitheus, VI. x. 2; passes by Auximus and Urbinus, VI. x. 3-5; enters Ariminum, VI. x. 5, 7. 11; wins great fame, VI, x. 9; receives proposal of marriage from Matasuntha, VI. x. 11; directed by Belisarius to leave Ariminum, VI. xi. 4; refuses, VI. xi. 22; prevents the approach of a tower to the wall of Ariminum, VI. xii. 6 ff.; addresses his soldiers, VI. xii. 14 ff.; attacks and inflicts severe losses on the Goths, VI. xii. 23-25; his excellent qualities, VI. x. 10 July, called "Quintilis," as being the fifth month from March, V. xxiv. 31; mentioned in the Sibyl's prophecy, V. xxiv. 28, 30, 31 Justinian, becomes emperor, V. ii. 2; appealed to by Amalasuntha, V. ii. 23; makes a friendly reply, V. ii. 24; Theodatus purposes to hand over Tuscany to him, V. iii. 4; Amalasuntha plans to hand over Italy to him, V. iii. 12; sends Alexander to learn of Amalasuntha's plans, V. iii. 14; but ostensibly to make complaints against the Goths, V. iii. 15-17; his letter to Amalasuntha V. iii. 16-18; her reply, V. iii. 19-27; sends Peter as envoy, V. iii. 30; receives envoys from Amalasuntha, V. iv. 11; receives envoys and a letter from Theodatus, V. iv. 15, 16; sends Peter as envoy to Theodatus and Amalasuntha, V. iv. 17; champions Amalasuntha against Theodatus, V. iv. 22; hears the report of the Italian envoys, V. iv. 23 ff.; inaugurates the Gothic war, V. v. 1 ff.; sends Belisarius with a fleet to Sicily, V. v. 2, 6, 7; recovers all Sicily, V. v. 17; persuades the Franks to ally themselves with him, V. v. 8-10, xiii. 28; Theodatus proposes an agreement with him, V. vi. 2-13; receives a letter from Theodatus, V. vi. 14-21; his reply, V. vi. 22-25; addresses a letter to the Gothic nobles, V. vii. 22-24; sends Constantianus to Illyricum and Belisarius to Italy, V. vii. 26; honours the deserter Ebrimous, V. viii. 3; receives the keys of Rome, V. xiv. 15; sends relief to Belisarius, V. xxiv. 18; writes encouragingly to Belisarius, V. xxiv. 21; wins the friendship of the Eruli, VI. xiv. 33; appoints a king over the Eruli at their request, VI. xv. 30 ff.; attempts to restore Suartuas, VI. xv. 36; year of reign noted, V. v. 1, xiv. 14 Justinus, general of Illyricum; arrives In Italy, VI. xiii. 17 Langovilla, home of the Albani, north of Liguria, V. xv. 29 Latin language, V. xi. 2, xv. 4; Latin literature, V. iii. 1; Latin Way, running southward from Rome, V. xiv. 6, VI. iii. 3, v. 2 Lechaeum, at the head of the Crisaean Gulf, V. xv. 17 Leuderis, a Goth; left in command of the garrison in Rome, V. xi. 26; his reputation for discretion, _ibid._; remains in Rome after the withdrawal of the garrison, V. xiv. 13; sent to the emperor, V. xiv. 15, xxiv. 1 Liberius, Roman senator; envoy of Theodatus, V. iv. 15, 21; makes a true report to Justinian, V. iv. 23, 24 Liburnia, adjoining Dalmatia and Istria, V. xv. 25; subdued by Constantianus, V. vii. 36; invaded by the Goths, V. xvi. 12 Libya, the continent to the right of Gibraltar, V. xii. 1; character of the country, V. xii. 2; Huns escape from the army there, V. iii. 15; Ildiger comes thence, VI. vii. 15 Liguria, on the boundary of Gaul, V. xii. 4; separated from Gaul by the Cottian Alps, V. xii. 20; its chief city Milan, VI. vii. 37, 38, V. xiv. 5; bounded by the Po, V. xv. 28; occupied by the Romans, VI. xii. 36 Lilybaeum, in Sicily, subject of complaint by Justinian, V. iii. 15 ff., iv. 19 Locrians, see Epizephyrian Locrians Lombards, a Christian people, subjugated by the Eruli, VI. xiv. 9; attacked wantonly by Rodolphus, VI. xiv. 12 ff.; rout his army and kill him, VI. xiv. 21, 22; defeat the Eruli, VI. xv. 1 Longinus, an Isaurian, bodyguard of Belisarius; distinguished for his valour, VI. x. 19, 20 Lucani, a people of southern Italy, V. xv. 22 Lucania, V. viii. 4 Lysina, island off the coast of Dalmatia, V. vii. 32 Macedonia, V. iii. 5 Magna Graecia, V. xv. 23 Magnus, Roman commander of cavalry, V. v. 3 at the capture of Naples, V. x. 1, 3, 7, 8, 13; sent to Tibur with Sinthues, VI. iv. 7; repairs the defences, VI. iv. 15 Maleventus, ancient name of "Beneventus," city in Samnium, V. xv. 4 Marcentius, commander of cavalry, VI. v. 1 March, the first month in the early Roman calendar, V. xxiv. 31 Marcias, commands a Gothic garrison in Gaul, V. xiii. 15; summoned thence by Vittigis, V. xiii. 29, xix. 12; his absence prevents Vittigis from leaving Ravenna, V. xvi. 7; commands a Gothic camp in the Plain of Nero, V. xix. 12, xxix. 2 Martinus, Roman commander sent to Italy, V. xxiv. 18-20; arrives in Rome, V. xxvii. 1; sent put against the Goths by Belisarius, V. xxvii. 22, 23; his bodyguards Theodoriscus and George, V. xxix. 20; sent to the Plain of Nero by Belisarius, VI. ii. 8; fights there with varying fortune, VI. ii. 19 ff.; with Valerian rescues Bochas, VI. ii. 24; sent to Taracina, VI. iv. 6, 14; summoned back to Rome, VI. v. 4; sent by Belisarius with Ildiger to Ariminum, VI. xi. 4, 8-21; they capture Petra, VI. xi. 10-19; leave Ariminum, VI. xi. 22 Massagetae, in the Roman army; their savage conduct at the capture of Naples, V. x. 29; see also Huns Matasuntha, daughter of Amalasuntha, wedded by Vittigis, V. xi. 27; opens negotiations with John, VI. x. 11 Mauricius, Roman general, son of Mundus; slain in battle, V. vii. 2, 3, 12 Maxentiolus, bodyguard of Constantinus, VI. viii. 3, 13 Maxentius, a bodyguard of the household of Belisarius, V. xviii. 14 Maximus, slayer of Valentinian, V. xxv. 15 Maximus, descendant of the above Maximus; exiled by Belisarius, V. xxv. 15 Medes, see Persians Melas, see Black Gulf Meleager, uncle of Diomedes, slayer of the Calydonian boar, V. xv. 8 Messana, city in Sicily, V. viii. 1 Milan, chief city of Liguria, VI. vii. 37, 38; second only to Rome among the cities of the West. _ibid._; receives assistance from Belisarius against the Goths, VI. xii. 26 ff.; occupied by the Romans, VI. xii. 36; besieged by Uraïas, VI. xii. 39, 40; its priest Datius, VI. vii. 35; distance from Rome and from the Alps, VI. vii. 38 Monteferetra, town in Italy; garrisoned by Vittigis, VI. xi. 3 Moors, allies in the Roman army, V. v. 4; their night attacks upon the Goths, V. xxv. 9; sent outside the walls at night by Belisarius, V. xxv. 17; in the battle in the Plain of Nero, V. xxix. 22 Moras, Gothic commander in Urbinus, VI. xi. 2 Mulvian Bridge, guarded by the Goths, V. xix. 3 Mundilas, bodyguard of Belisarius; distinguished for his valour, VI. x. 19; sent out against the Goths, V. xxvii. 11, 12; accompanies Procopius to Naples, VI. iv. 3; returns to Rome, VI. iv. 4; kills a brave Goth, VI. v. 15; sent in command of troops to Milan, VI. xii. 27, 36; grieves at the death of Fidelius, VI. xii. 35; occupies cities near Milan, VI. xii. 40 Mundus, a barbarian, general of Illyricum; sent against Salones, V. v. 2; secures Salones, V. v. 11; slain in battle, V. vii. 4, 5, 12; the Sibyl's prophecy concerning him, V. vii. 6-8; father of Mauricius, V. vii. 6-8 Naples, city in Campania, on the sea, V. viii. 5; commanded by Uliaris, V. iii. 15; strongly garrisoned by the Goths, V. viii. 5; Belisarius attempts to bring about its surrender, V. viii. 6 ff.; strength of its position, V. viii. 44; besieged by Belisarius, V. viii. 43 ff.; its aqueduct cut by Belisarius, V. viii. 45; its aqueduct investigated by one of the Isaurians, V. ix. 11 ff.; the city captured thereby, V. x. 1-26; slaughter by the soldiers, V. x. 28, 29; garrisoned by Belisarius, V. xiv. 1; women, etc., sent thither by Belisarius, V. xxv. 2; Procopius sent thither, VI. iv. 1; Antonina retires thither, VI. iv. 6; Isaurian soldiers arrive there from Byzantium, VI. v. 1; offered to Belisarius by the Goths, VI. vi. 30; Goths sent thither by Belisarius, VI. xiii. 4; one of the only two fortresses in Campania, V. xiv. 2; distance from Cumae, V. xiv. 3; from Vesuvius, VI. iv. 22; its mosaic picture of Theoderic, V. xxiv. 22 ff.; its inhabitants Romans and Christians, V. ix. 27 Narnia, strong city in Tuscany; Bessas sent against it, V. xvi. 2; named from the Narnus River, V. xvii. 9; distance from Rome, V. xvii. 6; surrenders to Bessas, V. xvi. 3; battle fought there, V. xvii. 4, 5; garrisoned by Bessas, V. xvii. 6; avoided by Vittigis, V. xvii. 8, VI. xi. 9 Narnus River, flows by Narnia, V. xvii. 9; its great bridge, V. xvii. 10, 11 Narses, a eunuch, imperial steward, VI. xiii. 16; arrives in Italy, _ibid._ Narses, an Armenian; deserted to the Romans, VI. xiii. 17 Neapolitans, send Stephanus to Belisarius, V. viii. 7; reject proposals of Belisarius, V. viii. 42; appeal to Theodatus for help, V. ix. 1; Belisarius' final appeal to them, V. ix. 22 ff.; their obduracy, V. ix. 30; saved by Belisarius from abuse by the Romans, V. x. 29, 34-36; kill Asclepiodotus, V. x. 46; impale the body of Pastor, V. x. 47; forgiven by Belisarius, V. x. 48; see also Naples Nero, Plain of, near Rome; a Gothic camp established there, V. xix. 3, 12, xxviii. 17; troops sent thither by Belisarius, V. xxviii. 15 ff.; operations there on the day of the great battle, V. xxix. 22 ff.; Marcias ordered by Vittigis to remain there, V. xxix. 2; Constantinus wins a signal success in, VI. i. 4-10; skirmish in, VI. i. 21; Martinus and Valerian sent to, VI. ii. 8; Goths victorious in, VI. ii. 19 ff.; but with heavy losses, VI. ii. 36; its "stadium," VI. i. 5 Nile River, its source unknown, V. xii. 2 Norici, a people of central Europe, V. xv. 27 Novaria, city near Milan; occupied by Mundilas, VI. xii. 40 Numa, early Roman king, V. xxiv. 31 Ochus, king of the Eruli, VI. xiv. 38 Odoacer, bodyguard of the emperor, V. i. 6; his tyranny, V. i. 7, 8, xii. 20, VI. vi. 21; divides lands in Tuscany among his followers, V. i. 28; allows the Visigoths to occupy all of Gaul, V. xii. 20; Zeno unable to cope with him, VI. vi. 15, 16; Theoderic persuaded to attack him, V. i. 10, VI. vi. 23; his troops defeated by Theoderic, V. i. 14, V. xii. 21; besieged in Ravenna, V. i. 15, 24; his agreement with Theoderic, V. i. 24; killed by Theoderic, V. i. 25 Odysseus, his meeting with Circe, V. xi. 2; with Diomedes stole the Palladium from Troy, V. xv. 9 Oilas, bodyguard of Belisarius, V. xxvii. 13 Opilio, Roman senator, envoy of Theodatus, V. iv. 15, 21; makes a false report to Justinian, V. iv. 25 Optaris, a Goth; his hostility to Theodatus, V. xi. 7, 8; pursues and kills him, V. xi. 6, 9 Orestes, father of Augustus, acts as regent for his son, V. i. 2; his death, V. i. 5 Ostia, city at the mouth of the Tiber; neglected in Procopius' time, V. xxvi. 8; no good road thence to Rome, V. xxvi. 13, VI. vii. 6; the only port on the Tiber left to Rome, V. xxvi. 16, VI. iv. 2; distance from Anthium, V. xxvi. 17; Paulus and Conon sent thither, VI. v. 3; reached by John, VI. vii. 1; provisions brought into Rome by way of Ostia, VI. vii. 1 ff. Pancratian Gate, in Rome, across the Tiber, V. xxviii. 19; false report of its capture, V. xviii. 35; threatened by the Goths, V. xxiii. 1; guarded by Paulus, V. xxiii. 2 Pancratius, a saint; the Pancratian Gate named from him, V. xviii. 35 Pannonians, a people of central Europe, V. xv. 27 Panormus, city in Sicily; Goths in, defy Belisarius, V. v. 12; taken by him, V. v. 13-16; garrisoned by him, V. viii. 1 Parian marble, used in building Hadrian's Tomb, V. xxii. 13 Pastor, of Naples, a trained speaker; with Asclepiodotus opposes the proposal to surrender the city, V. viii. 22 ff.; they address the Neapolitans, V. viii. 29-40; bring forward the Jews, V. viii. 41; his death, V. x. 38; his body impaled by the mob, V. x. 47 Patrician rank, how conferred, V. vi. 3; some of the patricians consult the Sibylline prophecies, V. xxiv. 28 ff.; patrician rank conferred upon Theoderic, V. i. 9, VI. vi. 16; upon Ebrimous, V. viii. 3 Patrimonium, used to denote the lands of the royal house, V. iv. 1 Paucaris, an Isaurian, bodyguard of Belisarius, V. ix. 17; prepares the channel of the aqueduct of Naples for the passage of Roman troops, V. ix. 19-21 Paul the Apostle, Church of, on the Tiber, VI. iv. 9; respected by the Goths, VI. iv. 10; its site fortified by Valerian, VI. iv. 11; Gate of Rome named from him, VI. iv. 3 Paulus, Roman commander of cavalry, V. v. 3; on guard at the Pancratian Gate, V. xxiii. 2; sent to Milan with Thracians, VI. xii. 27, 40 Paulus, commander of Isaurians, VI. v. 1; proceeds to Ostia by sea, VI. v. 3; remains in Ostia, VI. vii. 12, 16; occupies Portus, VI. vii. 16, 22 Peloponnesus, its resemblance to Spain, V. xii. 3 Penates, the ancient gods of Rome, V. xxv. 19 Peranius, of Iberia, Roman general, V. v. 3; of the family of the king of Iberia, _ibid._; had come as a deserter to the Romans, _ibid._; summons Belisarius to the Vivarium, V. xxiii. 13; leads a sally against the Goths, VI. i. 11 Persia, adjoining Iberia, V. v. 3 Persians, frequently referred to, also under the name of Medes, V. v. 3, etc.; their long shields, V. xxii. 20; Artasires a Persian, VI. ii. 10 Perusia, the first city of Tuscany, V. xvi. 4; submits to Constantinus, V. xvi. 4; battle fought near it, V. xvi. 6; garrisoned by Constantinus, V. xvii. 3; avoided by Vittigis, V. xvii. 7, VI. xi. 9 Peter, the Apostle, buried near Rome; one of the gates of the city named after him, V. xix. 4; his church, V. xxii. 21, VI. ix. 17; his promise to guard "Broken Wall," V. xxiii. 5; reverenced by the Romans above all others, V. xxiii. 5 Peter, an Illyrian, envoy of Justinian to Italy, V. iii. 30, iv. 17; his excellent qualities, V. iii. 30; learns of events in Italy and waits in Aulon, V. iv. 20, 21; sent on with a letter to Amalasuntha, V. iv. 22; arrives in Italy, V. iv. 25; denounces Theodatus, V. iv. 30; who tries to prove his innocence, V. iv. 31; tries to terrify Theodatus, V. iv. 1; who suggests to him an agreement with Justinian, V. vi. 2-6; recalled and given further instructions, V. vi. 7-13; reports to Justinian, V. vi. 14; sent again to Italy, V. vi. 25, 26, vii. 24; reproaches Theodatus, V. vii. 13; who makes a public speech of warning, V. vii. 14-16; his reply thereto, V. vii. 17-20; delivers a letter from Justinian to the Gothic nobles, V. vii. 22 Petra (Pertusa), on the Flaminian Way; allowed by Vittigis to retain its original garrison, VI. xi. 2; attacked and captured by the Romans, VI. xi. 10 ff.; its natural position and defences, VI. xi. 10-14 Phanitheus, Erulian commander, VI. xiii. 18 Philippi, in Macedonia, home of Demetrius, V. iii. 5 Photius, step-son of Belisarius; accompanies him to Italy, V. v. 6; at the capture of Naples, V. x. 5, 8, 9, 20; his groom Valentinus, V. xviii. 18 Piceni, a people of central Italy, V. xv. 21 Picenum, John sent thither, VI. vii. 28; raided by John, VI. x. 1 ff.; its metropolis Auximus, VI. xi. 2; its strongholds: Petra, Auximus, and Urbinus, VI. xi. 2; Caesena and Monteferetra, VI. xi. 3; its town Alba, VI. vii. 25 Pincian Gate, in Rome; next to the Flaminian, V. xix. 16, xxiii. 3; held by Belisarius, V. xix. 14; often mentioned in the fighting, V. xxviii. 15, etc. Pisidian, Principius the guardsman, V. xxviii. 23 Pissas, Gothic commander; sent into Tuscany, V. xvi. 5; defeated and captured, V. xvi. 6, 7 Pitzas, a Goth; surrenders part of Samnium to Belisarius, V. xv. 1, 2 Platonic teachings, espoused by Theodatus, V. iii. 1, vi. 10 Po River, called also the "Eridanus," V. i. 18; boundary of Liguria, V. xv. 28; and of Aemilia, V. xv. 30; crossed by Mundilas, VI. xii. 30, 31 Portus, harbour of Rome, V. xxvi. 3; its situation, V. xxvi. 4-7; distance from Rome, V. xxvi. 4; a good road between it and Rome, V. xxvi. 9, VI. vii. 6; captured by the Goths and garrisoned by them, V. xxvi. 14, 15, xxvii. 1, VI. vii. 11; strength of its defences, V. xxvi. 7, 19; abandoned by the Goths and occupied by Paulus, VI. vii. 16, 22 Praenestine Gate, in Rome; commanded by Bessas, V. xviii. 35, xix. 15; threatened by a Gothic camp, V. xix. 2; near the Vivarium, V. xxii. 10 Precalis, a district east of the Ionian Gulf adjoining Epirus and Dalmatia, V. xv. 25 Presidius, a Roman of Ravenna, VI. viii. 2; escapes to Spolitium. _ibid._; robbed of two daggers by Constantinus, VI. viii. 3; appeals to Belisarius in Rome, VI. viii. 4 ff. Principius, a Pisidian, bodyguard of Belisarius; persuades him to allow his infantry troops a share in the fighting, V. xxviii. 23-29; fights valiantly, V. xxix. 39, 40; killed in battle, V. xxix. 41 Procopius, writer of the history of the Gothic war, V. vii. 37, VI. ii. 38, xii. 41; sent to Naples to procure provisions and soldiers, VI. iv. 1 ff.; gathers soldiers and provisions in Campania, VI. iv. 19; assisted by Antonina, VI. iv. 20; religious views, V. iii. 6-9 Pyrenees Mountains, on the northern boundary of Spain, V. xii. 3 Quaestor, office held by Fidelius, V. xiv. 5 Quintilis, name given early to July as being the fifth month from March, V. xxiv. 31 Ram, an engine of war; its construction, V. xxi. 6-11 Ravenna, its situation, V. i. 16 ff.; besieged by the Goths, V. i. 14, 24; surrendered to Theoderic, V. i. 24; treasures of Carcasiana brought to, V. xii. 47; occupied by Vittigis and the Goths, V. xi. 26; Roman senators killed there by order of Vittigis, V. xxvi. 1; distance from Ariminum, VI. x. 5; from Caesena, V. i. 15; from Milan, VI. vii. 37, 38; from the Tuscan Sea, V. xv. 19; limit of the Picene territory, V. xv. 21; the priest of, V. i. 24 Regata, distance from Rome, V. xi. 1; Goths gather at, V. xi. 1, 5 Reges, a body of infantry commanded by Ursicinus, V. xxiii. 3 Reparatus, brother of Vigilius, escapes execution by flight, V. xxvi. 2 Rex, title used by barbarian kings, and preserved by Theoderic, V. i. 26, VI. xiv. 38 Rhegium, city in southern Italy, V. viii. 1; Belisarius departs thence with his army, V. viii. 4 Rhine, one of the rivers of Gaul, V. xii. 7 Rhone, one of the rivers of Gaul, V. xii. 7; boundary of the Visigothic power, V. xii. 12, xiii. 5; boundary of Roman power, V. xii. 20; boundary between the Franks and the Goths, V. xii. 45 Rodolphus, leader of the Eruli, VI. xiv. 11; forced by his people to march against the Lombards, VI. xiv. 12 ff. Rogi, a barbarian people, allies of the Goths, VI. xiv. 24 Romans, subjects of the Roman Empire both in the East and in the West, mentioned constantly throughout; captured Jerusalem in ancient times, V. xii. 42; Roman senators killed by order of Vittigis, V. xxvi. 1; Roman dress of ancient times, preserved by descendants of soldiers stationed in Gaul, V. xii. 18, 19; Roman soldiers, their importance greatly lessened by the addition of barbarians, V. i. 4; superiority of their soldiers to the Goths, V. xxvii. 27; small importance of their infantry, V. xxviii. 22 More particularly of the inhabitants of Rome: exhorted by Vittigis to remain faithful to the Goths, V. xi. 26; decide to receive Belisarius into the city, V. xiv. 4; admire the forethought of Belisarius, but object to his holding the city for a siege, V. xiv. 16; compelled by Belisarius to provide their own provisions, V. xiv. 17; deprived of the baths, V. xix. 27; distressed by the labours of the siege, reproach Belisarius, V. xx. 5 ff.; applaud his marksmanship, V. xxii. 5; prevent him from rebuilding "Broken Wall," V. xxiii. 5; their allegiance feared by Belisarius, V. xxiv. 14, 16; send women, children, and servants to Naples, V. xxv. 2, 10; some of the, attempt to open the doors of the Temple of Janus, V. xxv. 18-25; praise Belisarius publicly, V. xxvii. 25; eager to fight a pitched battle, V. xxviii. 1, 3; many of the populace mingle with the army, V. xxviii. 18, 29, xxix. 23, 25, 26; reduced to despair, VI. iii. 8; resort to unaccustomed foods, VI. iii. 10, 11; try to force Belisarius to light a decisive battle, VI. iii. 12 ff.; lived in luxury under Theoderic, V. xx. 11; held in especial honour the teachings of the Christians, V. xxv. 23 Rome, first city of the West, VI. vii. 38; captured by Alaric the elder, V. xii. 41; visited by envoys from Justinian, V. iii. 5, 16; garrison left therein by Vittigis, V. xi. 25, 26; Goths withdraw from, V. xi. 26; abandoned by the Gothic garrison, V. xiv. 12, 13; entered by Belisarius at the same time that the Gothic garrison left it, V. xiv. 14; keys of, sent to Justinian, V. xiv. 15; its defences repaired and improved by Belisarius, V. xiv. 15; ill-situated for a siege, V. xiv. 16; had never sustained a long siege, V. xxiv. 13; its territories secured by Belisarius, V. xvi. 1; provisioned for the siege, V. xvii. 14; account of the building of the wall on both sides of the Tiber, V. xix. 6-10; its siege begun by the Goths, V. xxiv. 26; not entirely shut in by them, V. xxv. 6; mills operated in the Tiber by Belisarius, V. xix. 19 ff.; visited by famine and pestilence, VI. iii. 1; abandoned by the Goths, VI. x. 12 ff.; garrisoned by Belisarius, VI. xiii. 1; terminus of the Appian Way, V. xiv. 6; its boundaries adjoin Campania, V. xv. 22; the palace, VI. viii. 10, ix. 5; its aqueducts, VI. iii. 3-7, ix. 1, 2; cut by the Goths, V. xix. 13; their number and size, _ibid._; stopped up by Belisarius, V. xix. 18; water of one used to turn the mills, V. xix. 8; its chief priest Silverius, V. xi. 26, xiv. 4, xxv. 13; Vigilius V. xxv. 13, xxvi. 2; its gates fourteen in number, V. xix. 1; the Asinarian, V. xiv. 14; the Pancratian, V. xviii. 35; the Salarian, V. xviii. 39; the Flaminian, V. xix. 2; the Praenestine, _ibid._; the Aurelian, V. xix. 4; the Transtiburtine, _ibid._; of Peter, _ibid._; of Paul, VI. iv. 3; the Pincian, V. xix. 14; its church of Peter the Apostle, VI. ix. 17; its sewers, V. xix. 29; its "stadium" in the Plain of Nero VI. i. 5; excavations for storage outside the walls, VI. i. 11; its harbour Portus, V. xxv. 4, xxvi. 3, 7, 9; Ostia, VI. iv. 2; distance from Centumcellae, VI. vii. 19; from Narnia, V. xvii. 6; from Portus and the sea, V. xxvi. 4; from Tibur, VI. iv. 7; description of the engines of war used against it by Vittigis, V. xxi. 3-12; a priest of, V. xvi. 20 Rusticus, a Roman priest, sent with Peter to Justinian, V. vi. 13, 14 Sacred Island, at the mouth of the Tiber, V. xxvi. 5 Salarian Gate, in Rome, V. xviii. 19, etc.; held by Belisarius, V. xix. 14; attacked by the Goths, V. xxxii. 1-9; Goths repulsed from, V. xxiii. 24, 25 Salones, city in Dalmatia; Mundus sent against, V. v. 2; taken by him, V. v. 11; battle near, V. vii. 2 ff.; its inhabitants mistrusted by the Goths, V. vii. 10, 31; weakness of its defences, V. vii. 31; occupied by the Goths, V. vii. 27; abandoned by them, V. vii. 32; occupied by Constantianus, V. vii. 33-36; Vittigis sends an army against, V. xvi. 9, 10; strengthened by Constantianus, V. xvi. 14, 15; invested by the Goths, V. xvi. 16 Samnites, a people of central Italy, V. xv. 21; children among; their gruesome play, V. xx. 1-4 Samnium, VI. v. 2; a portion of, surrendered to Belisarius, V. xv. 1, 15; the remainder held by the Goths, V. xv. 2 Scardon, city in Dalmatia, V. vii. 32, xvi. 13 Sciri, a Gothic nation, V. i. 3 Sclaveni, a barbarian nation, VI. xv. 2; in the Roman army, V. xxvii. 2 Scrithiphini, nation on the island of Thule; their manner of life, customs, etc., VI. xv. 16-25 Scylla, the story of, located at the strait of Messana, V. viii. 1 Sibyl, The, her prophecy regarding Mundus, V. vii. 6-8; prophecies of, consulted by patricians, V. xxiv. 28; difficulty of understanding them, V. xxiv. 34-37; her cave shewn at Cumae, V. xiv. 3 Sicilians, applaud Belisarius, V. v. 18; find the Romans faithful to their promises, V. viii. 18, 27 Sicily, Belisarius sent thither with a fleet, V. v. 6, xiii. 14; taken by him, V. v. 12 ff., 18; garrisoned by him, V. xxiv. 2; Theodatus proposes to withdraw from, V. vi. 2; grain brought thence by Belisarius, V. xiv. 17; Roman refugees resort to, V. xxv. 10; offered to Belisarius by the Goths, VI. vi. 27; Goths sent thither by Belisarius, VI. xiii. 4; smaller than Britain, VI. vi. 28 Silverius, chief priest of Rome, V. xi. 26; influences the citizens to yield to the Romans, V. xiv. 4; dismissed by Belisarius, V. xxv. 13 Singidunum, city in Pannonia, V. xv. 27, VI. xv. 30 Sinthues, bodyguard of Belisarius; sent to Tibur with Magnus, VI. iv. 7; repairs the defences, VI. iv. 15; wounded in battle, _ibid._ Siphilas, bodyguard of Constantianus, at the taking of Salones, V. vii. 34 Sirmium, city of the Gepaedes in Pannonia, V. iii. 15, xi. 5, xv. 27 Siscii, a people of central Europe, V. xv. 26 Solomon, king of the Jews; his treasures taken from Rome by Alaric, V. xii. 42 Spain, first country of Europe beginning from Gibraltar, V. xii. 3; its size compared with that of Gaul, V. xii. 5; formerly subject to the Romans, V. xii. 9; occupied by the Visigoths, V. xii. 12; really under the sway of Theoderic, V. xii. 47; Theudis establishes an independent power in, V. xii. 50-54; Spanish woman of great wealth married by him, V. xii. 50; Visigoths retire to, V. xiii. 13 Spaniards, situated beyond Gaul, V. xv. 29 Spolitium, city in Italy; submits to Constantinus, V. xvi. 3; garrisoned by him, V. xvi. 4, xvii. 3; avoided by Vittigis, V. xvii. 7, VI. xi. 9; Presidius takes refuge in, VI. viii. 2 Stephanus, a Neapolitan; remonstrates with Belisarius, V. viii. 7-11; urged by Belisarius to win over the Neapolitans, V. viii. 19; his attempts to do so, V. viii. 20, 21; assisted by Antiochus, V. viii. 21; opposed by Pastor and Asclepiodotus, V. viii. 22-24; goes again to Belisarius, V. viii. 25; summoned once more by Belisarius, V. ix. 23; returns to the city, V. ix. 29; bitterly accuses Asclepiodotus before Belisarius, V. x. 40-43 Suartuas, an Erulian; appointed king of the Eruli by Justinian, VI. xv. 32; attempts to destroy the Eruli sent to Thule, VI. xv. 34; flees to Byzantium, VI. xv. 35; Justinian attempts to restore him, VI. xv. 36 Suevi, barbarian people in Gaul, V. xii. 11; in two divisions, V. xv. 26; Asinarius gathers an army among them, V. xvi. 9, 12 Suntas, bodyguard of Belisarius, VI. vii. 27 Symmachus, a Roman senator and ex-consul, father-in-law of Boetius, V. i. 32; his death, V. i. 34; his children receive from Amalasuntha his property, V. ii. 5 Syracuse, surrenders to Belisarius, V. v. 12; entered by him on the last day of his consulship, V. v. 18, 19; garrisoned by him, V. viii. 1 Syria, home of Antiochus of Naples, V. viii. 21 Taracina, city near Rome, V. xi. 2; at the limit of Campania, V. xv. 22; Euthalius stops in, VI. ii. 1; Belisarius sends a hundred men thither, VI. ii. 3; occupied by Martinus and Trajan, VI. iv. 6, 14; left by them, VI. v. 4 Tarmutus, an Isaurian, brother of Ennes; persuades Belisarius to allow his infantry troops a share in the fighting, V. xxviii. 23-29; fights valiantly, V. xxix. 39, 40; his remarkable escape, V. xxix. 42, 43; his death, V. xxix. 44 Taulantii, a people of Illyricum, V. i. 13 Theoctistus, a physician; his successful treatment of Arzes' wound, VI. ii. 26 ff. Theodatus, son of Amalafrida and nephew of Theoderic, V. iii. 1; opposed by Amalasuntha in his oppression of the people of Tuscany, V. iii. 2, 3; plans to hand over Tuscany to Justinian, V. iii. 4, 29; meets the envoys of Justinian secretly, V. iii. 9; accused by the Tuscans, V. iv. 1; compelled by Amalasuntha to make restitution, V. iv. 2; her attempts to gain his support, V. iv. 9 ff.; becomes king, V. iv. 10, 19; imprisons Amalasuntha, V. iv. 13-15; sends envoys and a letter to Justinian, V. iv. 15, 16; receives the envoy Peter from Justinian, V. iv. 17; opposed by Justinian, V. iv. 22; defended by Opilio, V. iv. 25; persuaded to kill Amalasuntha, V. iv. 26, 27; denounced by Peter, V. iv. 30; his excuses, V. iv. 31; terrified by Peter, suggests an agreement with Justinian, V. vi. 1-5; recalls Peter and consults him further, V. vi. 6-13; his letter to Justinian, V. vi. 14-21; reply of Justinian, V. vi. 22-25; receives envoys from Justinian, V. vi. 26; refuses to put his agreement into effect, V. vii. 11, 12; makes a speech regarding rights of envoys, V. vii. 13-16; receives a letter addressed to the Gothic nobles, V. vii. 22; guards the envoys Peter and Athanasius, V. vii. 25; proposes an alliance with the Franks, V. xiii. 14, 24; kept the wives and children of the garrison of Naples, V. viii. 8; appealed to in vain by the Neapolitans, V. ix. 1; the story of the swine whose fortune foreshadowed the outcome of the war, V. ix. 2-7; dethroned by the Goths, V. xi. 1; flees toward Ravenna, pursued by Optaris, V. xi. 6; the cause of Optaris' hatred of him, V. xi. 7, 8; killed on the road, V. xi. 9, xiii. 15, xxix. 6; brother of Amalaberga, V. xiii. 2; father of Theodegisclus, V. xi. 10; father-in-law of Ebrimous, V. viii. 3; father of Theodenanthe, _ibid._; his unstable character, V. vii. 11; accustomed to seek oracles, V. ix. 3 Theodegisclus, son of Theodatus; imprisoned by Vittigis, V. xi. 10 Theodenanthe, daughter of Theodatus, wife of Ebrimous, V. viii. 3 Theoderic, Gothic king, patrician and ex-consul in Byzantium, V. i. 9, VI. vi. 16; leads the Goths in rebellion, V. i. 9; persuaded by Zeno to attack Odoacer, V. i. 10, VI. vi. 16, 23; leads the Gothic people to Italy, V. i. 12; not followed from Thrace by all the Goths, V. xvi. 2; besieges Ravenna, V. i. 24; his agreement with Odoacer, V. i. 24; kills him, V. i. 25; his war with the Gepaedes, V. xi. 5; forms close alliance with the Thuringians and Visigoths, V. xii. 21, 22; feared by the Franks, V. xii. 23; forms an alliance with them, V. xii. 24; craftily refrains from participation in the war against the Burgundians and gains part of their land, V. xii. 26-28, 31, 32; disregarded by the Franks, V. xii. 33; appealed to by Alaric and sends him an army, V. xii. 34; reproached by the Visigoths, V. xii. 37; drives the Franks from besieging Carcasiana, V. xii. 44; recovers eastern Gaul, V. xii. 45; makes Amalaric king of the Visigoths, acting as regent himself, V. xii. 46; sends Theudis to Spain with an army, V. xii. 50; tolerates his tyranny, V. xii. 51-54; virtual ruler over Gaul and Spain as well as Italy, V. xii. 47-49; imposed a tribute on the Visigoths, V. xii. 47, 48, xiii. 6; removed the treasures of Carcasiana, V. xiii. 6; kills Symmachus and Boetius, V. i. 34; terrified thereafter by the appearance of a fish's head, V. i. 35 ff.; his death, V. i. 39, xiii. 1; succeeded by Atalaric, V. ii. 1; made no new laws in Italy, VI. vi. 17; mosaic picture of, in Naples, V. xxiv. 22; kept the Romans in luxury, V. xx. 11; did not allow the Goths to educate their children, V. ii. 14; his own ignorance of letters, V. ii. 16; his character as a sovereign, V. i. 26 ff., xi. 26; beloved by his subjects, V. i. 29-31; brother of Amalafrida, V. iii. 1; father of Amalasuntha, V. ii. 23, xxiv. 25; father of Theodichusa, V. xii. 22; grandfather of Amalaric, V. xii. 43, 46; of Atalaric, V. ii. 1, xxiv. 24; of Matasuntha, V. xi. 27, xxix. 8; uncle of Theodatus, V. iii. 1; the family of, V. iv. 6 Theodichusa, daughter of Theoderic, betrothed to Alaric the younger, V. xii. 22; mother of Amalaric, V. xii. 43 Theodoriscus, a Cappadocian, guardsman of Martinus; conspicuous for his valour, V. xxix. 20, 21 Thessalonica, home of Peter, V. iii. 30 Theudibert, king of the Franks; gives his sister in marriage to Amalaric, V. xiii. 4; appealed to by her, V. xiii. 10; defeats Amalaric in battle, V. xiii. 11; takes possession of the Visigothic portion of Gaul, V. xiii. 12; sanctions treaty with Theodatus, V. xiii. 27; sends allies to Vittigis, VI. xii. 38, 39 Theudis, a Goth, marries a woman in Spain and sets up an independent power there, V. xii. 50-54; tyrant in Spain, V. xiii. 13 Thrace, ancient home of the Goths, V. xvi. 2; home of Constantinus and Bessas, V. v. 3; of Cutilas, VI. ii. 10; of Ulimuth, VI. xiii. 14 Thracians, a force of, reaches Dryus, VI. v. 1; with the Roman army, VI. xi. 5; sent to Milan under command of Paulus, VI. xii. 26, 27 Thule, description of the island, its inhabitants, long nights, etc., VI. xv. 4 ff.; Eruli settled there, VI. xv. 29; the Eruli send thither for a king, VI. xiv. 42, xv. 27, 30; their messengers return from, VI. xv. 33 Thurii, a city in southern Italy, V. xv. 23 Thuringians, barbarians in Gaul, V. xii. 10, 11; form close alliance with Theoderic, V. xii. 21, 22; their ruler Hermenefridus, V. xii. 22; subjugated by the Franks, V. xiii. 1 Tiber River, an obstacle to Vittigis, V. xvii. 13-15; defended by Belisarius, V. xvii. 18, xviii. 2 ff.; crossed by Vittigis, V. xviii. 1 ff.; xxiv. 3; crossed by the Goths to storm the wall, V. xxii. 18, 25; used by Belisarius to turn the mills, V. xix. 19 ff.; Romans bring in provisions by it, VI. vii. 8 ff; description of its mouths, V. xxvi. 5-8; navigable, V. xxvi. 6; freight traffic on, V. xxvi. 10-12; its tortuous course, V. xxvi. 11; flowed by the wall near the Aurelian Gate, V. xxii. 16, VI. ix. 16; sewers of Rome discharged into it, V. xix. 29; bridged in building the wall of Rome, V. xix. 10; included in the fortifications of Rome, V. xix. 6-10; bridge over, distance from Rome, V. xvii. 13; fortified by Belisarius, V. xvii. 14; abandoned by the garrison, V. xvii. 19 Tibur, occupied by Sinthues and Magnus, VI. iv. 7; distance from Rome, _ibid._ Ticinum, strongly fortified city, VI. xii. 32; battle fought near, VI. xii. 31, 33 Totila, ruler of the Goths, V. xxiv. 32 Trajan, bodyguard of Belisarius; makes a successful attack upon the Goths, V. xxvii. 4 ff.; sent to Taracina, VI. iv. 6; which he occupies with Martinus, VI. iv. 14; summoned back to Rome, VI. v. 4; sent against the Goths, VI. v. 9, 10; in the battle at the Pincian Gate, VI. v. 21; his strange wound, VI. v. 24-27 Transtiburtine Gate, threatened by a Gothic camp, V. xix. 4 Tria Fata, near the temple of Janus in Rome, V. xxv. 19 Tripolis, ashes from Vesuvius fell in, VI. iv. 27 Troy, a man of Troy, V. xv. 10; see also Ilium Tudera, town in Italy, garrisoned by Vittigis; VI. xi. 1; surrenders to Belisarius, VI. xiii. 2, 3; garrisoned by him, VI. xiii. 4 Tuscan Sea, south of Gaul, V. xii. 6, 7; distance from Ravenna, V. xv. 19 Tuscans, accuse Theodatus before Amalasuntha, V. iv. 1; welcome Constantinus into their cities, V. xvi. 4 Tuscany, extending from Aemilia to the boundaries of Rome, V. xv. 30; most of its lands owned by Theodatus, V. iii. 2, 29; who plans to hand it over to Justinian, V. iii. 4, iv. 17; invaded by Constantinus, V. xvi. 1 ff.; its cities: Genoa, VI. xii. 29; Narnia, V. xvi. 2; Spolitium and Perusia, V. xvi. 3; Clusium, VI. xi. 1; Centumcellae, VI. vii. 18, 19; its lake Vulsina, V. iv. 14 Tydeus, father of Diomedes, V. xv. 8 Uliaris, a Goth, in command of Naples, V. iii. 15 Ulias, a Goth, given as a hostage, VI. vii. 13 Uligisalus, sent to Dalmatia, V. xvi. 8; enters Liburnia alone, V. xvi. 12; defeated, retires to Burnus, V. xvi. 13; proceeds with Asinarius to Salones, V. xvi. 16; stationed in Tudera, VI. xi. 1 Ulimuth, of Thrace, bodyguard of Belisarius; renders signal service at Ancon, VI. xiii. 14, 15 Ulitheus, uncle of Vittigis, defeated and killed by John, VI. x. 2 Unilas, Gothic commander; sent into Tuscany, V. xvi. 5; defeated and captured, V. xvi. 6, 7 Uraïas, Gothic commander; sent into Liguria, VI. xii. 37; nephew of Vittigis, _ibid._ Urbinus, city in Picenum, VI. x. 5; passed by John, VI. x. 5, 7; garrisoned by Vittigis, VI. xi. 2 Ursicinus, Roman commander of infantry, V. v. 3, xxiii. 3 Urviventus, town near Rome; garrisoned by Vittigis, VI. xi. 1 Vacimus, Gothic commander; sent against Ancon, VI. xiii. 5, 8 Vacis, a Goth, sent to the Salarian Gate to harangue the Romans, V. xviii. 39-41 Valentinian, Roman emperor; slain by Maximus, V. xxv. 15 Valentinus, Roman commander of cavalry, V. v. 3; sent to the Plain of Nero by Belisarius, V. xxviii. 16, 19; unable to control his troops, V. xxix. 28 Valentinus, groom of Photius; fights valiantly, V. xviii. 18 Valerian, Roman commander; sent to Italy, V. xxiv. 19; winters in Aetolia, V. xxiv. 20; ordered to hasten to Rome, V. xxiv. 18; arrives in Rome, V. xxvii. 1; sent out against the Goths by Belisarius, V. xxvii. 22; sent to the Plain of Nero, VI. ii. 8; fights there with varying fortune, VI. ii. 19 ff.; with Martinus rescues Bochas, VI. ii. 24; establishes a camp at the church of Paul, VI. iv. 11; returns to the city, VI. iv. 12; with Ildiger seizes Constantinus, VI. viii. 16; uncle of Damian, VI. vii. 26; his bodyguard Gouboulgoudou, VI. xiii. 14 Vandalarius, see Visandus Vandals in Africa; their overthrow, V. iii. 22, v. 1, xxix. 8 Varni, a barbarian nation, VI. xv. 2 Veneti, their territory adjoining Istria, and extending to Ravenna, V. xv. 25 Venetia, held by the Goths, V. xi. 16 Vergentinus, Roman senator; escapes execution by flight, V. xxvi. 2 Vesuvius, threatens an eruption, VI. iv. 21; description of the mountain, VI. iv. 22-24; distance from Naples, VI. iv. 22; its heavy ash showers, VI. iv. 25-27; periodicity of its eruptions, VI. iv. 28; its fertility, VI. iv. 29; its salubrious atmosphere, VI. iv. 30 Vigilius, appointed chief priest of Rome, V. xxv. 13; brother of Reparatus, V. xxvi. 2 Visandus Vandalarius, a Goth; distinguished for his bravery at the battle of the Mulvian bridge, V. xviii. 29; his unexpected recovery, V. xviii. 30-33; stationed at Auximus, VI. xi. 2 Visandus, Erulian commander, VI. xiii. 18 Visigoths, occupy all of Spain and part of Gaul, V. xii. 12; their ruler Alaric the younger, V. xii. 22; form close alliance with Theoderic, V. xii. 21, 22; attacked by the Franks, V. xii. 33; encamp against them, V. xii. 35; compel Alaric to fight, V. xii. 36-38; defeated in battle, V. xii. 40; choose Giselic as king, V. xii. 43; Amalaric becomes king over them, V. xii. 46; mingle with the Goths, V. xii. 49; separate from them, V. xiii. 7, 8; defeated by the Franks, V. xiii. 11; withdraw from Gaul to Spain, V. xiii. 13 Vitalian, the tyrant, uncle of John, VI. v. 1, vii. 25 Vittigis, chosen king of the Goths, V. xi. 5; his good birth and military achievements, _ibid._; sends Optaris in pursuit of Theodatus, V. xi. 6; imprisons the son of Theodatus, V. xi. 10; advises withdrawal to Ravenna, V. xi. 11 ff.; withdraws to Ravenna, leaving a garrison in Rome, V. xi. 26; unable to recall the Goths from Gaul, V. xiii. 16; addresses the Goths, V. xiii. 17-25; forms an alliance with the Franks, V. xiii. 26-28; summons Marcias from Gaul, V. xiii. 29; sends an army against the Romans in Tuscany, V. xvi. 5; eager to leave Ravenna, but prevented by the absence of Marcias, V. xvi. 7, 11; sends an army to Dalmatia, V. xvi. 8, 9; finally moves against Rome, V. xvi. 19; his feverish haste, V. xvi. 20, 21, xvii. 8; refrains from attacking Perusia, Spolitium, and Narnia, V. xvii. 7, 8; advances through Sabine territory, V. xvii. 12; halts at the Tiber, V. xvii. 13; sends Vacis to the Salarian Gate, V. xviii. 39; commands one Gothic camp, V. xix. 12; his name given in play to one of the Samnite children, V. xx. 1-4; sends envoys to Belisarius, V. xx. 7; hears their report, V. xxi. 1; prepares to storm the wall, V. xxi. 2, 3; constructs engines of war, V. xxi. 4-12; makes a general assault on the wall, V. xxii. 1 ff.; leads an attack on the Vivarium, V. xxii. 10 ff.; where he presses the Romans hard, V. xxiii. 13; breaks down the outer wall, V. xxiii. 17, 19; his attacking force cut to pieces, V. xxiii. 20-22; kills Roman senators, V. xxvi. 1; seizes Portus, V. xxvi. 3, 14; tries to use Roman tactics on Belisarius, V. xxvii. 15-23; prepares for battle and addresses his army, V. xxix. 1-15; commands in person at the great battle, V. xxix. 16 ff.; allows Portus to be abandoned, VI. vii. 16, 22; investigates the aqueduct, VI. ix. 1 ff.; tries a new stratagem, VI. ix. 16 ff.; alarmed for Ravenna, abandons Rome, VI. x. 8, 12, 13; marches to Ariminum, leaving garrisons in certain towns VI. xi. 1-3; besieges Ariminum, VI. xii. 1 ff.; sends an army into Liguria, VI. xii. 37; receives Frankish allies, VI. xii. 38; Belisarius marches against him, VI. xiii. 1; sends an army against Ancon, VI. xiii. 5; uncle of Uraïas, VI. xii. 37; nephew of Ulitheus, VI. x. 2; husband of Matasuntha, V. xi. 27, VI. x. 11 Vivarium, an enclosure in the walls of Rome, V. xxii. 10; built for the keeping of wild animals, V. xxiii. 16; a very vulnerable point in the wall, V. xxiii. 13, 15; attacked by Vittigis, V. xxii. 10, 11, xxiii. 13-23; successfully defended under the direction of Belisarius, V. xxiii. 14-23 Vulsina, lake in Tuscany; Amalasuntha imprisoned there, V. iv. 14 Wild ass, an engine used for throwing stones, V. xxi. 18, 19 Wolf, a contrivance used by Belisarius for guarding the gates of Rome, V. xxi. 19-22 Zarter, a Massagete, bodyguard of Belisarius, sent into Tuscany, V. xvi. 1 Zeno, emperor of the East, V. i. 2; persuades Theoderic to attack Odoacer, V. i. 10, VI. vi. 16, 23 Zeno, a Roman commander of cavalry, VI. v. 2; given as a hostage, VI. vii. 13 Transcriber's Notes: In this text edition, the dated sidenotes were replaced with lettered footnotes with the references following the paragraph in which they land. Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Chapter XXIII, Footnote 1: "cap." changed to "chap." Page 329, "Dryous" changed to "Dryus". (who landed at Dryus) Page 438, "seven" changed to "six". (establish six camps) Index: The following words were changed so that the index matched what was actually in the text. Original Changed Index To "Aclyinus" "Aquilinus" "Aegypt" "Egypt" "Peter" "Pastor" (under Asclepiodotus) "Giselicus" "Giselic"(under Alaric and Giselic) "Aquilea" "Aquileia" "Bandalarius" "Vandalarius" (under Vandalarius and Visandus) "Chorsomantis" "Chorsamantis" "Diomed" "Diomedes" (twice under Beneventus) "Messina" "Messana" (under Charybdis and Scylla) "Chersonnesus" "Chersonese" "Rudolphus" "Rodolophus"(under Lombards) "Viselicus" "Giselic"(under Visigoths) "Uraias" "Uraïas" Body-guard used four times in the A section in index changed to bodyguard to conform to text. 
6032	----	This eBook was produced by Norm Wolcott. Geoffrey de Villehardouin [b.c.1160-d.c.1213]: Memoirs or Chronicle of The Fourth Crusade and The Conquest of Constantinople Geoffrey de Villehardouin [b.c.1160-d.c.1213]: Memoirs or Chronicle of The Fourth Crusade and The Conquest of Constantinople, trans. Frank T. Marzials, (London: J.M. Dent, 1908) THE FIRST PREACHING OF THE CRUSADE 1 Be it known to you that eleven hundred and ninety-seven years after the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the time of Innocent Pope of Rome, and Philip King of France, and Richard King of England, there was in France a holy man named Fulk of Neuilly - which Neuilly is between Lagni-sur-Marne and Paris - and he was a priest and held the cure of the village. And this said Fulk began to speak of God throughout the Isle-de-France, and the other countries round about; and you must know that by him the Lord wrought many miracles. Be it known to you further, that the fame of this holy man so spread, that it reached the Pope of Rome, Innocent*; and the Pope sent to France, and ordered the right worthy man to preach the cross (the Crusade) by his authority. And afterwards the Pope sent a cardinal of his, Master Peter of Capua, who himself had taken the cross, to proclaim the Indulgence of which I now tell you, viz., that all who should take the cross and serve in the host for one year, would be de- [note: Innocent III, elected Pope on the 8th January 1198, at the early age of thirty seven, Innocent III was one of the leading spirits of his time-in every sense a strong man and great Pope. From the beginning of his pontificate he turned his thoughts and policy to the recovery of Jerusalem. ] 2 livered from all the sins they had committed, and acknowledged in confession. And because this indulgence was so great, the hearts of men were much moved, and many took the cross for the greatness of the pardon. OF THOSE WHO TOOK THE CROSS The other year after that right worthy man Fulk had so spoken of God, there was held a tourney in Champagne, at a castle called Ecri, and by God's grace it so happened that Thibaut, Count of Champagne and Brie, took the cross, and the Count Louis of Blois and Chartres likewise; and this was at the beginning of Advent (28th November 1199). Now you must know that this Count Thibaut was but a young man, and not more than twenty-two years of age, and the Count Louis not more than twenty-seven. These two counts were nephews and cousins-german to the King of France, and, on the other part, nephews to the King of England. With these two counts there took the cross two very high and puissant barons of France, Simon of Montfort*, and Renaud of Montmirail. Great was the fame thereof throughout the land when these two high and puissant men took the cross. [note: Simon de Monfort - the same one who later crushed the Albigensians and the father of the "English" Simon de Montfort who defeated the royal army at Lewes and was killed at Evesham in 1265]. In the land of Count Thibaut of Champagne took the cross Garnier, Bishop of Troyes, Count Walter of Brienne, Geoffry of Joinville*, who was seneschal of the land, Robert his brother, Walter of Vignory, Walter of Montbéliard, Eustace of Conflans, Guy of Plessis his brother, Henry of Arzilliéres, Oger of Saint-Chéron, Villain of Neuilly, Geoffry of Villhardouin, Marshal of Champagne, Geoffry his nephew, William of Nully, Walter of Fuligny, Everard of Montigny, Manasses of l'Isle, Macaire of Sainte-Menehould, Miles the Brabant, Guy of Chappes, Clerembaud his nephew, Renaud of Dampierre, John Foisnous, and many other right worthy men whom this book does not here mention by name. [note: Geoffry de Joinville - the father of the chronicler Joinville.] With Count Louis took the cross Gervais of Châtel Hervée his son John of Virsin, Oliver of Rochefort, Henry of Mont- 3 reuil, Payen of Orléans, Peter of Bracietix, Hugh his brother, William of Sains, John of Frialze, Walter of Gaudonville, Hugh of Cormeray, Geoffry his brother, Hervée of Beauvoir, Robert of Frouville, Peter his brother, Orri of l'Isle, Robert of Quartier, and many more whom this book does not here mention by name. In the Isle-de-France took the cross Nevelon, Bishop of Soissons, Matthew of Montmorency, Guy the Castellan of Coucy, his nephew, Robert of Ronsoi, Ferri of Yerres, John his brother, Walter of Saint-Denis, Henry his brother, William of Aunoi, Robert Mauvoisin, Dreux of Crcssonsacq, Bernard of Moreuil, Enguerrand of Boves, Robert his brother, and many more right worthy men with regard to whose names this book is here silent. At the beginning of the following Lent, on the day when folk are marked with ashes (23rd February 1200), the cross was taken at Bruges by Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault, and by the Countess Mary his wife, who was sister to the Count Thibaut of Champagne. Afterwards took the cross, Henry his brother, Thierri his nephew, who was the son of Count Philip of Flanders, William the advocate of Béthune, Conon his brother, John of Nê1e Castellan of Bruges, Renier of Trit, Reginald his son, Matthew of Wallincourt, James of Avesnes, Baldwin of Beauvoir, Hugh of Beaumetz, Gérard of Mancicourt, Odo of Ham, William of Gommegnies, Dreux of Beaurain, Roger of Marck, Eustace of Saubruic, Francis of Colemi, Walter of Bousies, Reginald of Mons, Walter of Tombes, Bernard of Somergen, and many more right worthy men in great number, with regard to whom this book does not speak further. Afterwards took the cross, Count Hugh of St. Paul. With him took the cross, Peter of Amiens his nephew, Eustace of Canteleu, Nicholas of Mailly, Anscau of Cayeaux, Guy of Houdain, Walter of Nê1e, Peter his brother, and many other men who are unknown to us. Directly afterwards took the cross Geoffry of Perche, Stephen his brother, Rotrou of Montfort, Ives of La Jaille, Aimery of Villeroi, Geoffry of Beaumont, and many others whose names I do not know. 4 THE CRUSADERS SEND SIX ENVOYS TO VENICE Afterwards the barons held a parliament at Soissons, to settle when they should start, and whither they should wend. But they could come to no agreement, because it did not seem to them that enough people had taken the cross. So during all that year (1200) no two months passed without assemblings in parliament at Compiègne. There met all the counts and barons who had taken the cross. Many were the opinions given and considered; but in the end it was agreed that envoys should be sent, the best that could be found, with full powers, as if they were the lords in person, to settle such matters as needed settlement. Of these envoys, Thibaut, Count of Champagne and Brie, sent two; Baldwin, Count of Flanders and Hainault, two; and Louis, Count of Blois and Chartres, two. The envoys of the Count Thibaut were Geoffry of Villehardouin, Marshal of Champagne, and Miles the Brabant; the envoys of Count Baldwin were Conon of Béthune' and Alard Maquereau, and the envoys of Count Louis were John of Friaise, and Walter of Gaudonville. To these six envoys the business in hand was fully committed, all the barons delivering to them valid charters, with seals attached, to the effect that they would undertake to maintain and carry out whatever conventions and agreements the envoys might enter into, in all sea ports, and whithersoever else the envoys might fare. Thus were the six envoys despatched, as you have been told; and they took counsel among themselves, and this was their conclusion: that in Venice they might expect to find a greater number of vessels than in any other port. So they journeyed day by day, till they came thither in the first week of Lent (February 1201). THE ENVOYS ARRIVE IN VENICE, AND PROFFER THEIR REQUEST The Doge of Venice, whose name was Henry Dandolo* and [note: That Henry Dandolo was a very old man is certain, but there is doubt as to his precise age, as also as to the cause of his blindness. According to one account he had been blinded, or all but blinded, by the Greeks, and in a treacherous manner, when sent, at an earlier date, on an embassy to Constaritinople-whence his bitter hostility to the Greek Empire. I agree, however, with Sir Rennell Rodd that, if this had been so, Villehardouin would scarcely have refrained from mentioning such an act of perfidy on the part of the wicked Greeks. (See p. 41 of Vol 1of Sir Rennell Rodd's Princes of Achaia.) It is hardly to be imagined that he would keep the matter dark because, if he mentioned it, people would think Dandolo acted throughout from motives of personal vengeance. This would be to regard Villehardouin a- a very astute controversial historian indeed.] 5 who was very wise and very valiant, did them great honour, both he and the other folk, and entertained them right willingly, marvelling, however, when the envoys had delivered their letters, what might be the matter of import that had brought them to that country. For the letters were letters of credence only, and declared no more than that the bearers were to be accredited as if they were the counts in person, and that the said counts would make good whatever the six envoys should undertake. So the Doge replied: " Signors, I have seen your letters; well do we know that of men uncrowned your lords are the greatest, and they advise us to put faith in what you tell us, and that they will maintain whatsoever you undertake. Now, therefore, speak, and let us know what is your pleasure." And the envoys answered: " Sire, we would that you should assemble your council; and before your council we will declare the wishes of our lords; and let this be tomorrow, if it so pleases you." And the Doge replied asking for respite till the fourth day, when he would assemble his council, so that the envoys might state their requirements. The envoys waited then till the fourth day, as had been appointed them, and entered the palace, which was passing rich and beautiful; and found the Doge and his council in a chamber. There they delivered their message after this manner: " Sire, we come to thee on the part of the high barons of France, who have taken the sign of the cross to avenge the shame done to Jesus Christ, and to reconquer Jerusalem, if so be that God -will suffer it. And because they know that no people have such great power to help them as you and your people, therefore we pray you by God that you take pity on the land overseas and the shame of Christ, and use diligence that our lords 'have ships for transport and battle." " And after what manner should we use diligence? 6 said the Doge. " After all manners that you may advise and propose," rejoined the envoys, " in so far as what you propose may be within our means." " Certes," said the Doge, " it is a great thing that your lords require of us, and well it seems that they have in view a high enterprise. We will give you our answer eight days from to-day. And marvel not if the term be long, for it is meet that so great a matter be fully pondered." CONDITIONS PROPOSED BY THE DOGE When the term appointed by the Doge was ended, the envoys returned to the palace. Many were the words then spoken which I cannot now rehearse. But this was the conclusion of that parliament: " Signors," said the Doge, " we will tell you the conclusions at which we have arrived, if so be that we can induce our great council and the commons of the land to allow of them; and you, on your part, must consult and see if you can accept them and carry them through. " We will build transports* to carry four thousand five hundred horses, and nine thousand squires, and ships for four thousand five hundred knights, and twenty thousand sergeants of foot. And we will agree also to purvey food for these horses and people during nine months. This is what we undertake to do at the least, on condition that you pay us for each horse four marks, and for each man two marks. [note: The old French term is vuissiers, and denotes a kind of vessel, flat-bottomed, with large ports, specially constructed for the transport of horses. T. Smith translates "palanders," but I don't know that " palander" conveys any very clear idea to the English reader.] "And the covenants we are now explaining to you, we undertake to keep, wheresoever we may be, for a year, reckoning from the day on which we sail from the port of Venice in the service of God and of Christendom. Now the sum total of the expenses above named amounts to 85,000 marks. "And this will we do moreover. For the love of God, we will add to the fleet fifty armed galleys on condition that, so long as we act in company, of all conquests in land or money, whether at sea or on dry ground, we shall have the half, and you the other half. Now consult together to see if you, on your parts, can accept and fulfil these covenants." 7 The envoys then departed, and said that they would consult together and give their answer on the morrow. They consulted, and talked together that night, and agreed to accept the terms offered. So the next day they appeared before the Doge, and said: " Sire, we are ready to ratify this covenant." The Doge thereon said he would speak of the matter to his people, and, as he found them affected, so would he let the envoys know the issue. On the morning of the third day, the Doge, who was very wise and valiant, assembled his great council, and the council was of forty men of the wisest that were in the land. And the Doge, by his wisdom and wit, that were very clear and very good, brought them to agreement and approval. Thus he wrought with them; and then with a hundred others, then two hundred, then a thousand, so that at last all consented and approved. Then he assembled well ten thousand of the people in the church of St. Mark, the most beautiful church that there is, and bade them hear a mass of the Holy Ghost, and pray to God for counsel on the request and messages that had been addressed to them. And the people did so right willingly. CONCLUSION OF THE TREATY, AND RETURN OF THE ENVOYS When mass had been said, the Doge desired the envoys to humbly ask the people to assent to the proposed covenant. The envoys came into the church. Curiously were they looked upon by many who had not before had sight of them. Geoffry of Villehardouin, the Marshal of Champagne, by will and consent of the other envoys, acted as spokesman and said unto them: " Lords, the barons of France, most high and puissant, have sent us to you; and they cry to you for mercy, that you take pity on Jerusalem, which is in bondage to the Turks, and that, for God's sake, you help to avenge the shame of Christ Jesus. And for this end they have elected to come to you, because they know full well that there is none other people having so great power on the seas, as you and your people. And they commanded us to fall at your feet, and not to rise till you consent to take pity on the Holy Land which is beyond the seas." 8 Then the six envoys knelt at the feet of the people, weeping many tears. And the Doge and all the others burst into tears of pity and compassion, and cried with one voice, and lifted up their hands, saying: " We consent, we consent I " Then was there so great a noise and tumult that it seemed as if the earth itself were falling to pieces. And when this great tumult and passion of pity - greater did never any man see-were appeased, the good Doge of Venice, who was very wise and valiant, went up into the reading-desk, and spoke to the people, and said to them: "Signors, behold the honour that God has done you; for the best people in the world have set aside all other people, and chosen you to join them in so high an enterprise as the deliverance of our Lord! All the good and beautiful words that the Doge then spoke, I cannot repeat to you. But the end of the matter was, that the covenants were to be made on the following day; and made they were, and devised accordingly. When they were concluded, it was notified to the council that we should go to Babylon (Cairo), because the Turks could better be destroyed in Babylon than in any other land; but to the folk at large it was only told that we were bound to go overseass. We were then in Lent (March 1201), and by St. john's Day, in the following year-which would be twelve hundred and two years after the Incarnation of Jesus Christ-the barons and pilgrims were to be in Venice, and the ships ready against their coming. When the treaties were duly indited and sealed, they were brought to the Doge in the grand palace, where had been assembled the great and the little council. And when the Doge delivered the treaties to the envoys, he knelt greatly weeping, and swore on holy relics faithfully to observe the conditions thereof, and so did all his council, which numbered fifty-six persons. And the envoys, on their side, swore to observe the treaties, and in all good faith to maintain their oaths and the oaths of their lords; and be it known to you that for great pity many a tear was there shed. And forthwith were messengers sent to Rome, to the Pope Innocent, that he might confirm this covenant-the which he did right willingly. Then did the envoys borrow five thousand marks of silver, and gave them to the Doge so that the building of the ships 9 might be begun. And taking leave to return to their own land, they journeyed day by day till they came to Placentia in Lombardy. There they parted. Geoffry, the Marshal of Champagne and Alard Maquereau went straight to France, and the others went to Genoa and Pisa to learn what help might there be had for the land overseass When Geoffry, the Marshal of Champagne., passed over Mont Cenis, he came in with Walter of Brienne, going into Apulia, to conquer the land of his wife, whom he had married since he took the cross, and who was the daughter of King Tancred. With him went Walter of Montbéliard, and Eustace of Conflans, Robert of Joinville, and a great part of the people of worth in Champagne who had taken the cross. And when he told them the news how the envoys had fared, great was their joy, and much did they prize the arrangements made. And they said, " We are already on our way; and when you come, you will find us ready." But events fall out as God wills, and never had they power to join the host. This was much to our loss; for they were of great prowess and valiant. And thus they parted, and each went on his way. So rode Geoffry the Marshal, day by day, that he came to Troyes in Champagne, and found his lord the Count Thibaut sick and languishing, and right glad was the count of his coming. And when he had told the count how he had fared, the count was so rejoiced that he said he would mount horse, a thing he had not done of a long time. So he rose from his bed and rode forth. But alas, how great the pity! For never again did he bestride horse but that once. His sickness waxed and grew worse, so that at the last he made his will and testament, and divided the money which he would have taken with him on pilgrimage among his followers and companions, of whom he had many that were very good men and true-no one at that time had more. And he ordered that each one, on receiving his money, should swear on holy relics, to join the host at Venice, according as he had promised. Many there were who kept that oath badly, and so incurred great blame. The count ordered that another portion of his treasure should be retained, and taken to the host, and there expended as might seem best. Thus died the count; and no man in this world made a better end. And there were present at that time a very 10 great assemblage of men of his lineage and of his vassals. But of the mourning and funeral pomp it is unmeet that I should here speak. Never was more honour paid to any man. And right well that it was so, for never was man of his age more beloved by his own men, nor by other folk. Buried he was beside his father in the church of our lord St. Stephen at Troyes. He left behind him the Countess, Ws wife, whose name was Blanche, very fair, very good, the daughter of the King of Navarre. She had borne him a little daughter, and was then about to bear a son. THE CRUSADERS LOOK FOR ANOTHER CHIEF When the Count was buried, Matthew of Montmorency, Simon of Montfort, Geoffry of Joinville who was seneschal, and Geoffry the Marshal, went to Odo, Duke of Burgundy, and said to him, " Sire, your cousin is dead. You see what evil has befallen the land overseass We pray you by God that you take the cross, and succour the land overseas in his stead. And we will cause you to have all his treasure, and will swear on holy relics, and make the others swear also, to serve you in all good faith, even as we should have served him." Such was his pleasure that he refused. And be it known to you that he might have done much better. The envoys charged Geoffry of Joinville to make the self-same offer to the Count of Bar-le-Duc, Thibaut, who was cousin to the dead count, and he refused also. Very great was the discomfort of the pilgrims, and of all who were about to go on God's service, at the death of Count Thibaut of Champagne; and they held a parliament, at the beginning, of the month, at Soissons, to determine what they should do. There were present Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault, the Count Louis of Blois and Chartres, the Count Geoffry of Perche, the Count Hugh of Saint- Paul, and many other men of worth. Geoffry the Marshal spake to them and told them of the offer made to the Duke of Burgundy, and to the Count of Bar-le-Duc, and how they had refused it. " My lords," said he, " listen, I will advise you of somewhat if you will 11 consent thereto. The Marquis of Montferrat* is very worthy and valiant, and one of the most highly prized of living men. If you asked him to come here, and take the sign of the cross and put himself in place of the Count of Champagne, and you gave him the lordship of the host, full soon would he accept thereof." [note: Boniface, Marquis of Montferrat, was one of the most accomplished men of the time, and an approved soldier. His little court at Montferrat was the resort of artist and troubadour. His family was a family of Crusaders. The father, William of Montferrat, had gone overseass and fought valiantly against the infidel. Boniface's eldest brother, William of the Long Sword, married a daughter of the titular King of Jerusalem, and their son became titular king in turn. Another brother, Conrad, starting for the Holy Land, stopped at Constantinople, and did there such good service that the Greek emperor gave his sister to him in marriage; but afterwards fearing the perfidy of his brother-in-law, Conrad fled to Syria, and there battled against Saladin. Yet another brother, Renier, also served in the Greek Empire, married an Emperor's daughter, and received for guerdon of his deeds the kingdom of Salonika. Boniface himself had fought valiantly against Saladin, been made prisoner, and afterwards liberated on exchange. It was no mean and nameless knight that Villehardouin was proposing as chief to the assembled Crusaders, but a princely noble, the patron of poets, verrsed in state affairs, and possessing personal experience of Eastern warfare. I extract these details from M. Bouchet's Notice]. Many were the words spoken for and against; but in the end all agreed, both small and great. So were letters written, and envoys chosen, and the marquis was sent for. And he came, on the day appointed, through Champagne and the Isle-de-France, where he received much honour, and specially from the King of France, who was his cousin. BONIFACE, MARQUIS OF MONTFERRAT, BECOMES CHIEF OF THE CRUSADE - NEW CRUSADERS - DEATH OF GEOFFRY COUNT OF PERCHE So he came to a parliament assembled at Soissons; and the main part of the counts and barons and of the other Crusaders were there assembled. When they heard that the marquis was coming, they went out to meet him, and did him much honour. In the morning the parliament was held in an orchard belonging to the abbey of our Lady of Soissons. There they besought the marquis to do as they had desired of him, and prayed him, for the love of God, to take the cross, and accept the leadership of the host, and stand in the place of Thibaut Count of Champagne, and accept of his money 12 and of his men. And they fell at his feet, with many tears; and he, on his part, fell at their feet, and said he would do it right willingly. Thus did the marquis consent to their prayers, and receive the lordship of the host. Whereupon the Bishop of Soissons, and Master Fulk, the holy man, and two white monks whom the marquis had brought with him from Ws own land, led him into the Church of Notre Dame, and attached the cross to his shoulder. Thus ended this parliament, and the next day he took leave to return to his own land and settle his own affairs-telling them all to settle their own affairs likewise, for that he would meet them at Venice. Thence did the marquis go to attend the Chapter at Citeaux, which is held on Holy Cross Day in September (14th September 1241). There he found a great number of abbots, barons and other people of Burgundy; and Master Fulk went thither to preach the Crusade. And at that place took the cross Odo the Champenois of Champlitte, and William his brother, Richard of Dampierre, Odo his brother, Guy of Pesmes, Edmund his brother, Guy of Conflans, and many other good men of Burgundy, whose names are not recorded. Afterwards took the cross the Bishop of Autun, Guignes Count of Forez, Hugh of Bergi (father and son), Hugh of Colemi. Further on in Provence took the cross Peter Bromont, and many others whose names are unknown to us. Thus did the pilgrims make ready in all lands. Alas! a great mischance befell them in the following Lent (March 1202) before they had started, for the Count Geoffry of Perche fell sick, and made his will in such fashion that he directed that Stephen, his brother, should have his goods, and lead his men in the host. Of this exchange the pilgrims would willingly have been quit, had God so ordered. Thus did the count make an end and die; and much evil ensued, for he was a baron high and honoured, and a good knight. Greatly was he mourned throughout all his lands. FIRST STARTING OF THE PILGRIMS FOR VENICE, AND OF SOME WHO WENT NOT THITHER After Easter and towards Whitsuntide (June 1202) began the pilgrims to leave their own country. And you must know that at their departure many were the tears shed for 13 pity and sorrow, by their own people and by their friends. So they journeyed through Burgundy, and by the mountains of Mont-joux (? Jura) by Mont Cenis, and through Lombardy, and began to assemble at Venice, where they were lodged on an island which is called St. Nicholas in the port. At that time started from Flanders a fleet that carried a great number of good men-at-arms. Of this fleet were captains John of Nêle, Castellan of Bruges, Thierri, who was the son of Count Philip of Flanders, and Nicholas of Mailly. And these promised Count Baldwin, and swore on holy relics, that they would go through the straits of Morocco, and join themselves to him, and to the host of Venice, at whatsoever place they might hear that the count was faring. And for this reason the Count of Flanders and Henry his brother had confided to them certain ships loaded with cloth and food and other wares. Very fair was this fleet, and rich, and great was the reliance that the Count of Flanders and the pilgrims placed upon it, because very many of their good sergeants were journeying therein. But ill did these keep the faith they had sworn to the count, they and others like them, because they and such others of the same sort became fearful of the great perils that the host of Venice had undertaken. Thus did the Bishop of Autun fail us, and Guignes the Count of Forez, and Peter Bromont, and many people besides, who were greatly blamed therein; and of little worth were the exploits they performed there where they did go. And of the French failed us Bernard of Moreuil, Hugh of Chaumont, Henry of Araines, John of Villers, Walter of Saint-Denis, Hugh his brother, and many others, who avoided the passage to Venice because of the danger, and went instead to Marseilles-whereof they received shame, and much were they blamed-and great were the mishaps that afterwards befell them. OF THE PILGRIMS WHO CAME TO VENICE, AND OF THOSE WHO WENT TO APULIA Now let us for this present speak of them no further, but speak of the pilgrims, of whom a great part had already come to Venice. Count Baldwin of Flanders had already arrived there, and many others, and thither were tidings brought to 14 them that many of the pilgrims were travelling by other ways, and from other ports. This troubled them greatly, because they would thus be unable to fulfil the promise made to the Venetians, and find the moneys that were due. So they took counsel together, and agreed to send good envoys to meet the pilgrims, and to meet Count Louis of Blois and Chartres, who had not yet arrived, and to put them in good heart, and beseech them to have pity of the Holy Land beyond the sea, and show them that no other passage, save that from Venice, could be of profit. For this embassy they made choice of Count Hugh of Saint-Paul and Geoffry the Marshal of Champagne, and these rode till they came to Pavia in Lombardy. There they found Count Louis with a great many knights and men of note and worth; and by encouragements and prayers prevailed on many to proceed to Venice who would otherwise have fared from other ports, and by other ways. Nevertheless from Placentia many men of note proceeded by other ways to Apulia. Among them were Villain of Neuilly, who was one of the best knights in the world, Henry of Arzilliéres, Renaud of Dampierre, Henry of Longchamp, and Giles of Trasegnies, liegeman to Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault, who had given him, out of his own purse, five hundred livres to accompany him on this journey. With these went a great company of knights and sergeants, whose names are not recorded. Thus was the host of those who went by Venice greatly weakened; and much evil befell them therefrom, as you shall shortly hear. THE PILGRIMS LACK MONEY WHEREWITH TO PAY THE VENETIANS Thus did Count Louis and the other barons wend their way to Venice; and they were there received with feasting and joyfully, and took lodging in the Island of St. Nicholas with those who had come before. Goodly was the host, and right worthy were the men. Never did man see goodlier or worthier. And the Venetians held a market, rich and abundant, of all things needful for horses and men. And the fleet they had got ready was so goodly and fine that never did Christian man see one goodlier or finer; as well galleys 15 as transports, and sufficient for at least three times as many men as were in the host. Ah ! the grievous harm and loss when those who should have come thither sailed instead from other ports! Right well if they had kept their tryst, would Christendom have been exalted, and the land of the Turks abased! The Venetians had fulfilled all their undertakings, and above measure, and they now summoned the barons and counts to fulfil theirs and make payment, since they were ready to start. The cost of each man's passage was now levied throughout the host; and there were people enough who said they could not pay for their passage, and the barons took from them such moneys as they had. So each man paid what he could. When the barons had thus claimed the cost of the passages, and when the payments had been collected, the moneys came to less than the sum due-yea, by more than one half. Then the barons met together and said: "Lords, the Venetians have well fulfilled all their undertakings, and above measure. But we cannot fulfil ours in paying for our passages, seeing we are too few in number; and this is the fault of those who have journeyed by other ports. For God's sake therefore let each contribute all that he has, so that we may fulfil our covenant; for better is it that we should give all that we have, than lose what we have already paid, and prove false to our covenants; for if this host remains here, the rescue of the land overseas comes to naught." Great was then the dissension among the main part of the barons and the other folk, and they said: " We have paid for our passages, and if they will take us, we shall go willingly; but if not, we shall inquire and look for other means of passage." And they spoke thus because they wished that the host should fall to pieces and each return to his own land. But the other party said, " Much rather would we give all that we have and go penniless with the host, than that the host should fall to pieces and fail; for God will doubtless repay us when it so pleases Him." Then the Count of Flanders began to give all that he had and all that he could borrow, and so did Count Louis, and the Marquis, and the Count of Saint-Paul, and those who were of their party. Then might you have seen many a fine vessel of gold and silver borne in payment to the palace of the Doge. And when all had been brought together, there 16 was still wanting, of the sum required, 34,000 marks of silver. Then those who had kept back their possessions and not brought them into the common stock, were right glad, for they thought now surely the host must fail and go to pieces. But God, who advises those who have been ill-advised, would not so suffer it. THE CRUSADERS OBTAIN A RESPITE BY PROMISING TO HELP THE VENETIANS AGAINST ZARA Then the Doge spoke to his people, and said unto them: Signors, these people cannot pay more; and in so far as they have paid at all, we have benefited by an agreement which they cannot now fulfil. But our right to keep this money would not everywhere be acknowledged; and if we so kept it we should be greatly blamed, both us and our land. Let us therefore offer them terms. "The King of Hungary has taken from us Zara in Sclavonia, which is one of the strongest places in the world; and never shall we recover it with all the power that we possess, save with the help of these people. Let us therefore ask them to help us to reconquer it, and we will remit the payment of the debt of 34,000 marks of silver, until such time as it shall please God to allow us to gain the moneys by conquest, we and they together." Thus was agreement made. Much was it contested by those who wished that the host should be broken up. Nevertheless the agreement was accepted and ratified. THE DOGE AND A NUMBER OF VENETIANS TAKE THE CROSS Then, on a Sunday, was assemblage held in the church of St. Mark. It was a very high festival, and the people of the land were there, and the most part of the barons and pilgrims. Before the beginning of High Mass, the Doge of Venice, who bore the name of Henry Dandolo, went up into the reading-desk, and spoke to the people, and said to them:" Signors, you are associated with the most worthy people in the world, and for the highest enterprise ever undertaken; and I am a man old and feeble, who should have need of rest, and I am sick in body; but I see that no one could command 17 and lead,you like myself, who am your lord. If you will consent that I take the sign of the cross to guard and direct you, and that my son remain in my place to guard the land, then shall I go to five or die with you and with the pilgrims." And when they had heard him, they cried with one voice: "We pray you by God that you consent, and do it, and that you come with us! " Very great was then the pity and compassion on the part of the people of the land and of the pil-rims; and many were the tears shed, because that worthy 0and good man would have had so much reason to remain behind, for he was an old man, and albeit his eyes were unclouded, yet he saw naught, having lost his sight through a wound in the head. He was of a great heart. Ah! how little like him were those who had gone to other ports to escape the danger. Thus he came down from the reading-desk, and went before the altar, and knelt upon his knees greatly weeping. And they sewed the cross on to a great cotton hat, which he wore, in front, because he wished that all men should see it. And the Venetians began to take the cross in great numbers, a great multitude, for up to that day very few had taken the cross. Our pilgrims had much joy in the cross that the Doge took, and were greatly moved, because of the wisdom and the valour that were in him. Thus did the Doge take the cross, as you have heard. Then the Venetians began to deliver the ships, the galleys, and the transports to the barons, for departure; but so much time had already been spent since the appointed term, that September drew near (1202). MESSAGE OF ALEXIUS, THE SON OF ISAAC, THE DETHRONED EMPEROR OF CONSTANTINOPLE -DEATH OF FULK OF NEUILLY - ARRIVAL OF THE GERMANS Now give ear to one of the greatest marvels, and most wonderful adventures that you have ever heard tell of. At that time there was an emperor in Constantinople, whose name was Isaac, and he had a brothor, Alexius by name, whom he had ransomed from captivity among the Turks. This Alexius took his brother the emperor, tore the eyes out of his head, and made himself emperor by the aforesaid 18 treachery. He kept Isaac a long time in prison, together with a son whose name was Alexius. This son escaped from prison, and fled in a ship to a city on the sea, which is called Ancona. Thence he departed to go to King Philip of Germany, who had his sister for wife; and he came to Verona in Lombardy, and lodged in the town, and found there a number of pilgrims and other people who were on their way to join the host. And those who had helped him to escape, and were with him, said: " Sire, here is an army in Venice, quite near to us, the best and most valiant people and knights that are in the world, and they are going overseass Cry to them therefore for mercy, that they have pity on thee and on thy father, who have been so wrongfully dispossessed. And if they be willing to help thee, thou shalt be guided by them. Perchance they will take pity on thy estate." And Alexius said he would do this right willingly, and that the advice was good. Thus he appointed envoys, and sent them to the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat, who was chief of the host, and to the other barons. And when the barons saw them, they marvelled greatly, and said to the envoys: " We understand right well what you tell us. We will send an envoy with the prince to King Philip, whither he is going. If the prince will help to recover the land overseass we will help him to recover his own land, for we know that it has been wrested from him and from his father wrongfully." So were envoys sent into Germany, both to the heir of Constantinople and to King Philip of Germany. Before this happened, of which I have just told you, there came news to the host which greatly saddened the barons and the other folk, viz., that Fulk, the good man, the holy man, who first preached the Crusade, had made an end and was dead. And after this adventure, there came to the host a company of very good and worthy people from the empire of Germany, of whose arrival they of the host were full fain. There came the Bishop of Halberstadt, Count Berthold of Katzenelenbogen, Gamier of Borland, Thierri of Loos, Henry of Orme, Thierri of Diest, Roger of Suitre, Alexander of Villers, Ulric of Tone, and many other good folk, whose names are not recorded in this book. 19 THE CRUSADERS LEAVE VENICE TO BESIEGE ZARA Then were the ships and transports apportioned by the barons. Ah, God I what fine war-horses were put therein. And when the ships were fulfilled with arms and provisions, and knights and sergeants, the shields were ranged round the bulwarks and castles of the ships, and the banners displayed, many and fair. And be it known to you that the vessels carried more than three hundred petraries and mangonels, and all such engines as are needed for the taking of cities, in great plenty. Never did finer fleet sail from any0port. And this was in the octave of the Feast of St. Remigius (October) in the year of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ twelve hundred and two. Thus did they sail from the port of Venice, as you have been told. On the Eve of St. Martin (10th November) they came before Zara in Sclavonia, and beheld the city enclosed by high walls and high towers; and vainly would you have sought for a fairer city, or one of greater strength, or richer. And when the pilgrims saw it, they marvelled greatly, and said one to another, " How could such a city be taken by force, save by the help of God himself? " The first ships that came before the city cast anchor, and waited for the others; and in the morning the day was very fine and very clear, and all the galleys came up with the transports, and the other ships which were behind; and they took the port by force, and broke the chain that defended it and was very strong and well-wrought; and they landed in such sort that the port was between them and the town. Then might you have seen many a knight and many a sergeant swarming out of the ships, and taking from the transports many a good war-horse, and many a rich tent and many a pavilion. Thus did the host encamp. And Zara was besieged on St. Martin's Day (11th November 1202). At this time all the barons had not yet arrived. Thus the Marquis of Montferrat had remained behind for some business that detained him. And Stephen of Perche had remained at Venice sick, and Matthew of Montmorency. When they were healed of their sickness Matthew of Montmorency came to rejoin the host at Zara; but Stephen of Perche dealt less worthily, for he abandoned the host, and 20 went to sojourn in Apulia. With him went Rotrou of Montfort and Ives of la jaille, and many others, who were much blamed therein; and they journeyed to Syria in the following spring.* [note: Literally, "in the passaae of March," i.e. among the pilgrims who periodically started for the (,,y Land in March.] THE INHABITANTS OF ZARA OFFER TO CAPITULATE, AND THEN DRAW BACK - ZARA IS TAKEN On the day following the feast of St. Martin, certain of the people of Zara came forth, and spoke to the Doge of Venice, who was in his pavilion, and said to him that they would yield up the city and all their goods-their lives being spared-to his mercy. And the Doge replied that he would not accept these conditions, nor any conditions, save by consent of the counts and barons, with whom he would go and confer. While he went to confer with the counts and barons, that party, of whom you have already heard, who wished to disperse the host, spoke to the envoys and said, " Why should you surrender your city? The pilgrims will not attack you -have no care of them. If you can defend yourselves against the Venetians, you will be safe enough." And they chose one of themselves, whose name was Robert of Boves, who went to the walls of the city, and spoke the same words. Therefore the envoys returned to the city, and the negotiations were broken off. The Doge of Venice, when he came to the counts and barons, said to them: "Signors, the people who are therein desire to yield the city to my mercy, on condition only that their lives are spared. But I will enter into no agreement with them-neither this nor any other-save with your consent." And the barons answered: " Sire, we advise you to accept these conditions, and we even beg of you so to do." He said he would do so; and they all returned together to the pavilion of the Doge to make the agreement, and found that the envoys had gone away by the advice of those who wished to disperse the host. Then rose the abbot of Vaux, of the order of the Cistercians, and said to them: " Lords, I forbid you, on the part of the Pope of Rome, to attack this city; for those within it 21 are Christians, and you are pilgrims." When the Doge heard this, he was very wroth, and much disturbed, and he said to the counts and barons: "Signors, I had this city, by their own agreement, at my mercy, and your people have broken that agreement; you have covenanted to help me to conquer it, and I summon you to do so." Whereon the counts and barons all spoke at once, together with those who were of their party, and said: " Great is the outrage of those who have caused this agreement to be broken, and never a day has passed that they have not tried to break up the host. Now are we shamed if we do not help to take the city." And they came to the Doge, and said: " Sire, we will help you to take the city in despite of those who would let and hinder us." Thus was the decision taken. The next morning the host encamped before the gates of the city, and set up their petraries and manoonels, and other engines of war, which they had in plenty, and on the side of the sea they raised ladders from the ships. Then they began to throw stones at the walls of the city and at the towers. So did the assault last for about five days. Then were the sappers set to mine one of the towers, and began to sap the wall. When those within the city saw this, they proposed an agreement, such as they had before refused by the advice of those who wished to break up the host. THE CRUSADERS ESTABLISH THEMSELVES IN THE CITYAFFRAY BETWEEN THE VENETIANS AND THE FRANKS Thus did the city surrender to the mercy of the Doge, on condition only that all lives should be spared. Then came the Doge to the counts and barons, and said to them: " Signors, we have taken this city by the grace of God, and your own. It is now winter, and we cannot stir hence till Eastertide; for we should find no market in any other place; and this city is very rich, and well furnished with all supplies. Let us therefore divide it in the midst, and we will take one half, and you the other." As he had spoken, so was it done. The Venetians took the part of the city towards the port, where were the ships, and the Franks took the other part. There were quarters 22 assigned to each, according as was right and convenient. And the host raised the camp, and went to lodge in the city. On the third day after they were all lodged, there befell a great misadventure in the host, at about the hour of vespers; for there began a fray, exceeding fell and fierce, between the Venetians and the Franks, and they ran to arms from all sides. And the fray was so fierce that there were but few streets in which battle did not rage with swords and lances and cross-bows and darts; and many people were killed and wounded. But the Venetians could not abide the combat, and they began to suffer great losses. Then the men of mark, who did not want this evil to befall, came fully armed into the strife, and began to separate the combatants; and when they had separated them in one place, they began again in another. This lasted the better part of the night. Nevertheless with great labour and endurance at last they were separated. And be it known to you that this was the greatest misfortune that ever befell a host, and little did it lack that the host was not lost utterly. But God would not suffer it. Great was the loss on either side. There was slain a high lord of Flanders, whose name was Giles of Landas: he was struck in the eye, and with that stroke he died in the fray; and many another of whom less was spoken. The Doge of Venice and the barons laboured much, during the whole of that week, to appease the fray, and they laboured so effectually that peace was made. God be thanked therefor. ON WHAT CONDITIONS ALEXIUS PROPOSES TO OBTAIN THE HELP OF THE CRUSADERS FOR THE CONQUEST OF CONSTANTINOPLE A fortnight after came to Zara the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat, who had not yet joined, and Matthew of Montmorency, and Peter of Bracieux, and many another man of note. And after another fortnight came also the envoys from Germany, sent by King Philip and the heir of Constantinople. Then the barons, and the Doge of Venice assembled in a palace where the Doge was lodged. And the envoys addressed them and said: " Lords, King Philip sends us to you, as does also the brother of the king's wife, the son of the emperor of Constantinople. 23 "`Lords,' says the king, ' I will send you the brother of my wife; and I commit him into the hands of God-may He keep him from death! - and into your hands. And because you have fared forth for God, and for right, and for justice, therefore you are bound, in so far as you are able, to restore to their own inheritance those who have been unrighteously despoiled. And my wife's brother will make with you the best terms ever offered to any people, and give you the most puissant help for the recovery of the land overseass " ' And first, if God grant that you restore him to his inheritance, he will place the whole empire of Roumania in obedience to Rome, from which it has long been separated. Further, he knows that you have spent of your substance, and that you are poor, and he will give you 200,000 marks of silver, and food for all those of the host, both small and great. And he, of his own person, will go with you into the land of Babylon, or, if you hold that that will be better, send thither 10,000 men, at his own charges. And this service he will perform for one year. And all the days of his life he will maintain, at his own charges, five hundred knights in the land overseass to guard that land.' " " Lords, we have full power," said the envoys, " to conclude this agreement, if you are willing to conclude it on your parts. And be it known to you, that so favourable an agreement has never before been offered to any one; and that he that would refuse it can have but small desire of glory and conquest." The barons and the Doge said they would talk this over; and a parliament was called for the morrow. When all were assembled, the matter was laid before them. DISCORD AMONG THE CRUSADERS - OF THOSE WHO ACCEPT THE PROPOSALS OF THE YOUNG ALEXIUS Then arose much debate. The abbot of Vaux, of the order of the Cistercians, spoke, and that party that wished for the dispersal of the host; and they said they would never consent: that it was not to fall on Christians that they had left their homes, and that they would go to Syria. And the other party replied: "Fair lords, in Syria you will be able to do nothing; and that you may right well perceive by considering how those have fared who abandoned us, and 24 sailed from other ports. And be it known to you that it is only by way of Babylon, or of Greece, that the land overseas can be recovered, if so be that it ever is recovered. And if we reject this covenant we shall be shamed to all time." There was discord in the host, as you hear. Nor need you be surprised if there was discord among the laymen, for the white monks of the order of Citeaux were also at issue among themselves in the host. The abbot of Loos, who was a holy man and a man of note, and other abbots who held with him, prayed and besought the people, for pity's sake and the sake of God, to keep the host together, and agree to the proposed convention, in that " it afforded the best means by which the land overseas might be recovered; " while the abbot of Vaux, on the other hand, and those who held with him, preached full oft, and declared that all this was naught, and that the host ought to go to the land of Syria, and there do what they could. Then came the Marquis of Montferrat, and Baldwin Count of Flanders and Hainault, and Count Louis, and Count Hugh of St. Paul, and those who held with them, and they declared that they would enter into the proposed covenant, for that they should be shamed if they refused. So they went to the Doge's hostel, and the envoys were summoned, and the covenant, in such terms as you have already heard, was confirmed by oath, and by charters with seals appended. And the book tells you that only twelve persons took the oaths on the side of the Franks, for more (of sufficient note) could not be found. Among the twelve were first the Marquis of Montferrat, the Count Baldwin of Flanders, the Count Louis of Blois and of Chartres, and the Count of St. Paul, and eight others who held with them. Thus was the agreement made, and the charters prepared, and a term fixed for the arrival of the heir of Constantinople; and the term so Fixed was the fifteenth day after the following Easter. OF THOSE WHO SEPARATED THEMSELVES FROM THE HOST TO GO TO SYRIA, AND OF THE FLEET OF THE COUNT OF FLANDERS Thus did the host sojourn at Zara all that winter (1202-1203) in the face of the King of Hungary. And be it known to you that the hearts of the people were not at peace, for 25 the one party used all efforts to break up the host, and the other to make it hold together. Many of the lesser folk escaped in the vessels of the merchants. In one ship escaped well nigh five hundred, and they were all drowned, and so lost. Another company escaped by land, and thought to pass through Sclavonia; and the peasants of that land fell upon them, and killed many, so that the remainder came back flying to the host. Thus did the host go greatly dwindling day by day. At that time a great lord of the host, who was from Germany, Garnier of Borland by name, so wrought that he escaped in a merchant vessel, and abandoned the host, whereby he incurred great blame. Not long afterwards, a great baron of France, Renaud of Monmirail by name, besought so earnestly, with the countenance of Count Louis, that he was sent to Syria on an embassy in one of the vessels of the fleet; and he swore with his right hand on holy relics, he and all the knights who went with him, that within fifteen days after they had arrived in Syria, and delivered their message, they would return to the host. On this condition he left the host, and with him Hervée of Chitel, his nephew, William the vidame of Chartres, Geoffry of Beaumont, John of Frouville, Peter his brother, and many others. And the oaths that they swore were not kept; for they did not rejoin the host. Then came to the host news that was heard right willingly, viz., that the fleet from Flanders, of which mention has been made above, had arrived at Marseilles. And John of Nêle, Castellan of Bruges, who was captain of that host, and Thierri, who was the son of Count Philip of Flanders, and Nicholas of Mailly, advised the Count of Flanders, their lord, that they would winter at Marseilles, and asked him to let them know what was his will, and said that whatever was his will, that they would do. And he told them, by the advice of the Doge of Venice and the other barons, that they should sail at the end of the following March, and come to meet him at the port of Modon in Roumania. Alas! they acted very evilly, for never did they keep their word, but went to Syria, Where, as they well knew, they would achieve nothing. Now be it known to you, lords, that if God had not loved the host, it could never have held together, seeing how many people wished evil to it! 26 THE CRUSADERS OBTAIN THE POPE'S ABSOLUTION FOR THE CAPTURE OF ZARA Then the barons spoke together and said that they would send to Rome, to the Pope, because he had taken the capture of Zara in evil part. And they chose as envoys such as they knew were fitted for this office, two knights, and two clerks. Of the two clerks one was Nevelon, Bishop of Soissons, and the other Master John of Noyon, who was chancellor to Count Baldwin of Flanders; and of the knights one was John of Friaize, the other Robert of Boves. These swore on holy relics that they would perform their embassy loyally and in good faith, and that they would come back to the host. Three kept their oath right well, and the fourth evilly, and this one was Robert of Boves. For he executed his office as badly as he could, and perjured himself, and went away to Syria as others had done. But the remaining three executed their office right well, and delivered their message as the barons had directed, and said to the Pope: " The barons cry mercy to you for the capture of Zara, for they acted as people who could do no better, owing to the default of those who had gone to other ports, and because, had they not acted as they did, they could not have held the host together. And as to this they refer themselves to you, as to their good Father, that you should tell them what are your commands, which they are ready to perform." And the Pope said to the envoys that he knew full well that it was through the default of others that the host had been impelled to do this great mischief, and that he had them in great pity. And then he notified to the barons and pilgrims that he sent them his blessing, and absolved them as his sons, and commanded and besought them to hold the host together, inasmuch as he well knew that without that host God's service could not be done. And he gave full powers to Nevelon, Bishop of Soissons, and Master John of Noyon, to bind and to unloose the pilgrims until the cardinal joined the host. 27 DEPARTURE OF THE CRUSADERS FOR CORFU - ARRIVAL OF THE YOUNG ALEXIUS - CAPTURE OF DURAS So much time had passed that it was now Lent, and the host prepared their fleet to sail at Easter. When the ships were laden on the day after Easter (7th April 1203), the pilgrims encamped by the port, and the Venetians destroyed the city, and the walls and the towers. Then there befell an adventure which weighed heavily upon the host; for one of the great barons of the host, by name Simon of Montfort, had made private covenant with the King of Hungary, who was at enmity with those of the host, and went to him, abandoning the host. With him went Guy of Montfort his brother, Simon of Nauphle and Robert Mauvoisin, and Dreux of Cressonsacq, and the abbot of Vaux, who was a monk of the order of the Cistercians, and many others. And not long after another great lord of the host, called Enguerrand of Boves, joined the King of Hungary, together with Hugh, Enguerrand's brother, and such of the other people of their country as they could lead away. These left the host, as you have just heard; and this was a great misfortune to the host, and to such as left it a great disgrace. Then the ships and transports began to depart; and it was settled that they should take port at Corfu, an island of Roumania, and that the first to arrive should wait for the last; and so it was done. Before the Doge, the Marquis, and the galleys left Zara, Alexius, the son of the Emperor Isaac of Constantinople, had arrived together. He was sent by the King Philip of Germany, and received with great joy and great honour; and the Doge gave Mm as many galleys and ships as he required. So they left the port of Zara, and had a fair wind, and sailed onwards till they took port at Duras. And those of the land, when they saw their lord, yielded up the city right willingly and sware fealty to Mm. And. they departed thence and came to Corfu, and found there the host encamped before the city; and those of the host had spread their tents and pavilions, and taken the horses out of the transports for ease and refreshment. When they heard that the son of the Emperor of Constantinople 28 had arrived in the port, then might you have seen many a good knight and many a good sergeant leading many a good war-horse and going to meet him. Thus they received him with very great joy, and much high honour. And he had his tent pitched in the midst of the host; and quite near was pitched the tent of the Marquis of Montferrat, to whose ward he had been commended by King Philip, who had his sister to wife. HOW THE CHIEFS OF THE CRUSADERS HELD BACK THOSE WHO WANTED TO ABANDON THE HOST The host sojourned thus for three weeks in that island, which was very rich and plenteous. And while they sojoumed, there happened a misadventure fell and grievous. For a great part of those who wished to break up the host, and had aforetime been hostile to it, spoke together and said that the adventure to be undertaken seemed very long and very perilous, and that they, for their part, would remain in the island, suffering the host to depart, and that-when the host had so departed-they would, through the people of Corfu, send to Count Walter of Brienne, who then held Brandis, so that he might send ships to take them thither. I cannot tell you the names of all those who wrought in this matter, but I will name some among the most notable of the chiefs, viz., Odo of Champlitte, of Champagne, James of Avesnes, Peter of Amiens, Guy the Castellan of Coucy, Oger of Saint-Chéron, Guy of Chappes and Clerembaud his nephew, William of Aunoi, Peter Coiseau, Guy of Pesmes and Edmund his brother, Guy of Conflans, Richard of Dampierre, Odo his brother, and many more who had promised privily to be of their party, but who dared not for shame openly so to avow themselves; in such sort that the book testifies that more than half the host were in this mind. And when the Marquis of Montferrat heard thereof, and Count Baldwin of Flanders, and Count Louis, and the Count of St. Paul, and the barons who held with them, they were greatly troubled, and said: " Lords, we are in evil case. If these people depart from us, after so many who have departed from us aforetime, our host is doomed, and we shall make no conquests. Let us then go to them, and fall at their feet, and cry to them for mercy, and for God's sake to have compas- 29 sion upon themselves and upon us, and not to dishonour themselves, and ravish from us the deliverance of the land overseass Thus did the council decide; and they went, all together, to a valley where those of the other part were holding their parliament; and they took with them the son of the Emperor of Constantinople, and all the bishops and all the abbots of the host. And when they had come to the place they dismounted and went forward, and the barons fell at the feet of those of the other part, greatly weeping, and said they would not stir till those of the other part had promised not to depart from them. And when those of the other part saw this, they were filled with very great compassion; and they wept very bitterly at seeing their lords, and their kinsmen, and their friends, thus lying at their feet. So they said they would consult together, and drew somewhat apart, and there communed. And the sum of their communing was this: that they would remain with the host till Michaelmas, on condition that the other part would swear, loyally, on holy relics, that from that day and thenceforward, at whatever hour they might be summoned to do so, they would in all good faith, and without guile, within fifteen days, furnish ships wherein the non-contents might betake themselves to Syria. Thus was covenant made and sworn to; and then was there great joy throughout all the host. And all gat themselves to the ships, and the horses were put into the transports. DEPARTURE FROM CORFU-CAPTURE OF ANDROS AND ABYDOS Then did they sail from the port of Corfu on the eve of Pentecost (24th May), which was twelve hundred and three years after the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ. And there were all the ships assembled, and all the transports, and all the galleys of the host, and many other ships of merchants that fared with them. And the day was fine and clear, and the wind soft and favourable, and they unfurled all their sails to the breeze. And Geoffry, the Marshal of Champagne, who dictates this work, and has never lied therein by one word to his know- 30 ledge, and who was moreover present at all the councils held -he bears witness that never was yet seen so fair a sight. And well might it appear that such a fleet would conquer and gain lands, for, far as the eye could reach, there was no space without sails, and ships, and vessels, so that the hearts of men rejoiced greatly. Thus they sailed over the sea till they came to Malea, to straits that are by the sea. And there they met two ships with pilgrims, and knights and sergeants returning from Syria, and they were of the parties that had gone to Syria by Marseilles. And when these saw our fleet so rich and well appointed, they conceived such shame that they dared not show themselves. And Count Baldwin of Flanders sent a boat from Ws ship to ask what people they were; and they said who they were. And a sergeant let himself down from his ship into the boat, and said to those in the ship, " I cry quits to you for any goods of mine that may remain in the ship, for I am going with these people, for well I deem that they will conquer lands. "Much did we make of the sergeant, and gladly was he received in the host. For well may it be said, that even after following a thousand crooked ways a man may find his way right in the end. The host fared forward till it came to Nigra (Negropont). Nigra is a very fair island, and there is on it a very good city called Negropont. Here the barons took council. Then went forward the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat, and Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault, with a great part of the transports and galleys, taking with them the son of the Emperor Isaac of Constantinople; and they came to an island called Andros, and there landed. The knights took their arms, and over-rode the country; and the people of the land came to crave mercy of the son of the Emperor of Constantinople, and gave so much of their goods that they made peace with Wm. Then they returned to the ships, and sailed over the sea; when a great mishap befell, for a great lord of the host, whose name was Guy, Castellan of Coucy, died, and was cast into the sea. The other ships, which had not sailed thitherward, had entered the passage of Abydos, and it is there that the straits of St. George (the Dardanelles) open into the great 31 sea. And they sailed up the straits to a city called Abydos, which lies on the straits of St. George, towards Turkey, and is very fair, and well situate. There they took port and landed, and those of the city came to meet them, and surrendered the city, as men without stomach to defend themselves. And such guard was established that those of the city lost not one stiver current. They sojoumed there eight days to wait for the ships transports and galleys that had not yet come up. And while they thus sojourned, they took corn from the land, for it was the season of harvest, and great was their need thereof, for before they had but little. And within those eight days all the ships and barons had come up. God gave them fair weather. ARRIVAL AT ST. STEPHEN - DELIBERATION AS TO PLAN OF ATTACK All started from the port of Abydos together. Then might you have seen the Straits of St. George (as it were) in flower with ships and galleys sailing upwards, and the beauty thereof was a great marvel to behold. Thus they sailed up the Straits of St. George till they came, on St. John the Baptist's Eve, in June (23rd June 1203) to St. Stephen, an abbey that lay three leagues from Constantinople. There had those on board the ships and galleys and transports full sight of Constantinople; and they took port and anchored their vessels. Now you may know that those who had never before seen Constantinople looked upon it very earnestly, for they never thought there could be in all the world so rich a city; and they marked the high walls and strong towers that enclosed it round about, and the rich palaces, and mighty churches of which there were so many that no one would have believed it who had not seen it with his eyes-and the height and the length of that city which above all others was sovereign. And be it known to you, that no man there was of such hardihood but his flesh trembled: and it was no wonder, for never was so great an enterprise undertaken by any people since the creation of the world. Then landed the counts and barons and the Doge of Venice, and a parliament was held in the church of St. - 32 Stephen. There were many opinions set forth, this way and that. All the words then spoken shall not be recorded in this book; but in the end the Doge rose on his feet and said: "Signors, I know the state of this land better than you do, for I have been here erewhile. We have undertaken the greatest enterprise, and the most perilous, that ever people have undertaken. Therefore it behoves us to go to work warily. Be it known to you that if we go on dry ground, the land is great and large, and our people are poor and ill-provided. Thus they will disperse to look for food; and the people of the land are in great multitude, and we cannot keep such good watch but that some of ours will be lost. Nor are we in case to lose any, for our people are but few indeed for the work in hand. "Now there are islands close by which you can see from here, and these are inhabited, and produce corn, and food, and other things. Let us take port there, and gather the corn and provisions of the land. And when we have collected our supplies, let us go before the city, and do as our Lord shall provide. For he that has supplies, wages war with more certainty than he that has none. "To this counsel the lords and barons agreed, and all went back to their ships and vessels. THE CRUSADERS LAND AT CHALCEDON AND SCUTARI They rested thus that night. And in the morning, on the day of the feast of our Lord St. John the Baptist in June (24th June 1203), the banners and pennants were flown on the castles of the ships, and the coverings taken from the shields, and the bulwarks of the ships garnished. Every one looked to his antis, such as he should use, for well each man knew that full soon he would have need of them. The sailors weighed the anchors, and spread the sails to the wind, and God gave them a good wind, such as was convenient to them. Thus they passed before Constantinople, and so near to the walls and towers that we shot at many of their vessels. There were so many people on the walls and towers that it seemed as if there could be no more people (in the world). Then did God our Lord set to naught the counsel of the day before, and keep us from sailing to the islands: that counsel 33 fell to naught as if none had ever heard thereof. For lo, our ships made for the mainland as straight as ever they could, and took port before a palace of the Emperor Alexius, at a place called Chalcedon. This was in face of Constantinople, on the other side of the straits,. towards Turkey. The palace was one of the most beautiful and delectable that ever eyes could see, with every delight therein that the heart of man could desire, and convenient for the house of a prince. The counts and barons landed and lodged themselves in the palace; and in the city round about, the main part pitched their tents. Then were the horses taken out of the transports, and the knights and sergeants got to land with all their arms, so that none remained in the ships save the mariners only. The country was fair, and rich) and well supplied with all good things, and the sheaves of corn (which had been reaped) were in the fields, so that all-and they stood in no small need-might take thereof. Thev soioumed thus in that palace the following day; and on the third day God gave them a good wind, and the mariners raised their anchors, and spread their sails to the wind. They went thus up the straits, a good league above Constantinople, to a palace that belonged to the Emperor Alexius, and was called Scutari. There the ships anchored, and the transports, and all the galleys. The horsemen who had lodged in the palace of Chalcedon went along the shore by land. The host of the French encamped thus on the straits of St. George, at Scutari, and above it. And when the Emperor Alexius saw this, he caused his host to issue from Constantinople, and encamp over against us on the other side of the straits, and there pitched his tents, so that we might not take land against him by force. The host of the French sojourned thus for nine days, and those obtained supplies who needed them, and that was every one in the host. THE FORAGERS DEFEAT THE GREEKS During this time, a company of good and trustworthy men issued (from the camp) to guard the host, for fear it should be attacked, and the foragers searched the country. In the said company were Odo of Champlitte, of Champagne, and William his brother, and Oger of Saint-Chéron, and 34 Manasses of l'Isle, and Count Girard, a count of Lombardy, a retainer of the Marquis of Montferrat; and they had with them at least eighty knights who were good men and true. And they espied, at the foot of a mountain, some three leagues distant from the host, certain tents belonging to the Grand Duke of the Emperor of Constantinople, who had with him at least five hundred Greek knights. When our people saw them, they formed their men into four battalions, and decided to attack. And when the Greeks saw this, they formed their battalions, and arrayed themselves in rank before their tents, and waited. And our people went forward and fell upon them right vigorously. By the help of God our Lord, this fight lasted but a little while, and the Greeks turned their backs. They were discomfited at the first onset, and our people pursued them for a full great league. There they won plenty of horses and stallions, and palfreys, and mules, and tents and pavilions, and such spoil as is usual in such case. So they returned to the host, where they were right well received, and their spoils were divided, as was fit. MESSAGE OF THE EMPEROR ALEXIUS-REPLY OF THE CRUSADERS The next day after, the Emperor Alexius sent an envoy with letters to the counts and to the barons. This envoy was called Nicholas Roux, and he was a native of Lombardy. He found the barons in the rich palace of Scutari, where they were holding council and he saluted them on the part of the Emperor Alexius of Constantinople, and tendered his letters to the Marquis of Montferrat-who received them. And the letters were read before all the barons; and there were in them words, written after various manners, which the book does not (here) relate, and at the end of the other words so written, came words of credit, accrediting the bearer of the letters, whose name was Nicholas Roux. "Fair Sir," said the barons, "we have seen your letters, and they tell us that we are to give credit to what you say, and we credit you right well. Now speak as it pleases you." And the envoy was standing before the barons, and spoke thus: "Lords," said he, "the Emperor Alexius would have you know that he is well aware that you are the best people 35 uncrowned, and come from the best land on earth. And he marvels much why, and for what purpose, you have come into his land and kingdom. For you are Christians, and he is a Christian, and well he knows that you are on your way to deliver the Holy Land overseass and the Holy Cross, and the Sepulchre. If you are poor and in want, he will right willmgly give you of his food and substance, provided you depart out of his land. Neither would he otherwise wish to do you any hurt, though he has full power therein, seeing that if you were twenty times as numerous as you are, you would not be able to get away without utter discomfiture if so be that he wished to harm you." By agreement and desire of the other barons, and of the Doge of Venice, then rose to his feet Conon of Béthune, who was a good knight, and wise, and very eloquent, and he replied to the envoy: " Fair Sir, you have told us that your lord marvels much why our signors and barons should have entered into Ms kingdom and land. Into his land they have not entered, for he holds this land wrongfully and wickedly, and against God and against reason. It belongs to Ws nephew, who sits upon a throne among us, and is the son of his brother, the Emperor Isaac. But if he is willing to throw himself on the mercy of his nephew, and to give Mm back his crown and empire, then we will pray his nephew to forgive him, and bestow upon him as much as will enable him to live wealthily. And if you come not as the bearer of such a message, then be not so bold as to come here again." So the envoy departed and went back to Constantinople, to the Emperor Alexius. THE CRUSADERS SHOW THE YOUNG ALEXIUS TO THE PEOPLE OF CONSTANTINOPLE, AND PREPARE FOR THE BATTLE The barons consulted together on the morrow, and said that they would show the young Alexius, the son of the Emperor of Constantinople, to the people of the city. So they assembled all the galleys. The Doge of Venice and the Marquis of Montferrat entered into one, and took with them Alexius, the son of the Emperor Isaac; and into the other galleys entered the knights and barons, as many as would. They went thus quite close to the walls of Constantinople and showed the youth to the people of the Greeks, and said, 36 "Behold your natural lord; and be it known to you that we have not come to do you harm, but have come to guard and defend you, if so be that you return to your duty. For he whom you now obey as your lord holds rule by wrong and wickedness, against God and reason. And you know full well that he has dealt treasonably with him who is your lord and his brother, that he has blinded his eyes and reft from him his empire by wrong and wickedness. Now behold the rightful heir. If you hold with him, you will be doing as you ought; and if not we will do to you the very worst that we can." But for fear and terror of the Emperor Alexius, not one person on the land or in the city made show as if he held for the prince. So all went back to the host, and each sought his quarters. On the morrow, when they had heard mass, they assembled in parliament, and the parliament was held on horseback in the midst of the fields. There might you have seen many a fine war-horse, and many a good knight thereon. And the council was held to discuss the order of the battalions, how many they should have, and of what strength. Many were the words said on one side and the other. But in the end it was settled that the advanced guard should be given to Baldwin of Flanders, because he had a very great number of good men, and archers and crossbowmen, more than any other chief that was in the host. And after, it was settled that Henry his brother, and Matthew of Wallincourt, and Baldwin of Beauvoir, and many other good knights of their land and country, should form the second division. The third division was formed by Count Hugh of St. Paul, Peter of Amiens his nephew, Eustace of Canteleu, Anseau of Cayeux, and many good knights of their land and country. The fourth division was formed by Count Louis of Blois and Chartres, and was very numerous and rich and redoubtable; for he had placed therein a great number of good knights and men of worth. The fifth division was formed by Matthew of Montmorency and the men of Champagne. Geoffry the Marshal of Champagne formed part of it, and Oger of Saint-Chéron, Manasses of l'Isle, Miles the Brabant, Macaire of Sainte-Menehould, John Foisnous, Guy of Chappes, Clerembaud his nephew, Robert of Ronsoi; all these people formed part of the fifth 37 division. Be it known to you that there was many a good knight therein. The sixth division was formed by the people of Burgundy. In this division were Odo the Champenois of Champlitte, William his brother, Guy of Pesmes, Edmund his brother, Otho of la Roche, Richard of Dampierre, Odo his brother, Guy of Conflans, and the people of their land and country. The seventh division, which was very large, was under the command of the Marquis of Montferrat. In it were the Lombards and Tuscans and the Germans, and all the people who were from beyond Mont Cenis to Lyons on the Rhone. All these formed part of the division under the marquis, and it was settled that they should form the rearguard. THE CRUSADERS SEIZE THE PORT The day was fixed on which the host should embark on the ships and transports to take the land by force, and either live or die. And be it known to you that the enterprise to be achieved was one of the most redoubtable ever attempted. Then did the bishops and clergy speak to the people, and tell them how they must confess, and make each one his testament, seeing that no one knew what might be the will of God concerning him. And this was done right willingly throughout the host, and very piously. The term fixed was now come; and the knights went on board the transports with their war-horses; and they were fully armed, with their helmets laced, and the horses covered with their housings, and saddled. All the other folk, who were of less consequence in battle, were on the great ships; and the galleys were fully armed and made ready. The morning was fair a little after the rising of the sun; and the Emperor Alexius stood waiting for them on the other side, with great forces, and everything in order. And the trumpets sound, and every galley takes a transport in tow, so as to reach the other side more readily. None ask who shall go first, but each makes the land as soon as he can. The knights issue from the transports, and leap into the sea up to their waists, fully armed, with helmets laced, and lances in hand; and the good archers, and the good sergeants, and the good crossbowmen, each in his company, land so soon as they touch ground. 38 The Greeks made a goodly show of resistance; but when it came to the lowering of the lances, they turned their backs, and went away flying, and abandoned the shore. And be it known to you that never was port more proudly taken. Then began the mariners to open the ports of the transports, and let down the bridges, and take out the horses; and the knights began to mount, and they began to marshal the divisions of the host in due order. CAPTURE OF THE TOWER OF GALATA Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault, with the advanced guard, rode forward, and the other divisions of the host after him, each in due order of march; and they came to where the Emperor Alexius had been encamped. But he had turned back towards Constantinople, and left his tents and pavilions standing. And there our people had much spoil. Our barons were minded to encamp by the port before the tower of Galata, where the chain was fixed that closed the port of Constantinople. And be it known to you, that any one must perforce pass that chain before he could enter into the port. Well did our barons then perceive that if they did not take the tower, and break the chain, they were but as dead men, and in very evil case. So they lodged that night before the tower, and in the Jewry that is called Stenon, where there was a good city, and very rich. Well did they keep guard during the night; and on the morrow, at the hour of tierce, those who were in the tower of Galata made a sortie, and those who were in Constantinople came to their help in barges; and our people ran to arms. There came first to the onset James of Avesnes and his men on foot; and be it known to you that he was fiercely charged, and wounded by a lance in the face, and in peril of death. And one of his knights, whose name was Nicholas of Jenlain, gat to horse, and came to his lord's rescue, and succoured him right well, and so won great honour. Then a cry was raised in the host, and our people ran together from all sides, and drove back the foe with great fury, so that many were slain and taken. And some of them did not go back to the tower, but ran to the barges by which they had come, and there many were drowned, and some escaped. 39 As to those who went back to the tower, the men of our host pressed them so hard that they could not shut the gate. Then a terrible fight began again at the gate, and our people took it by force, and made prisoners of all those in the tower. Many were there killed and taken. ATTACK ON THE CITY BY LAND AND SEA So was the tower of Galata taken, and the port of Constantinople won by force. Much were those of the host comforted thereby, and much did they praise the Lord God; and greatly were those of the city discomforted. And on the next day, the ships, the vessels, the galleys and the transports were drawn into the port. Then did those of the host take council together to settle what thing they should do, and whether they should attack the city by sea or by land. The Venetians were firmly minded that the scaling ladders ought to be planted on the ships, and all the attack made from the side by the sea. The French, on the other hand, said that they did not know so well how to help themselves on sea as on land, but that when they had their horses and their arms they could help themselves on land right well. So in the end it was devised that the Venetians should attack by sea, and the barons and those of the host by land. They sojourned thus for four days. On the fifth day, the whole host were armed, and the divisions advanced on horseback, each in the order appointed, along the harbour, till they came to the palace of Blachernae; and the ships drew inside the harbour till they came over against the self-same place, and this was near to the end of the harbour. And there is at that place a river that flows into the sea, and can only be passed by a bridge of stone. The Greeks had broken down the bridge, and the barons caused the host to labour all that day and all that night in repairing the bridge. Thus was the bridge repaired, and in the morning the divisions were armed, and rode one after the other in the order appointed, and came before the city. And no one came out from the city against them; and this was a great marvel, seeing that for every man that was in the host there were over two hundred men in the city. Then did the barons decide that they should quarter them- 40 selves between the palace of Blachernae and the castle of Boemond, which was an abbey enclosed with walls. So the tents and pavilions were pitched-which was a right proud thing to look upon; for of Constantinople, which had three leagues of front towards the land, the whole host could attack no more than one of the gates. And the Venetians lay on the sea, in ships and vessels, and raised their ladders, and mangonels, and petraries, and made order for their assault right well. And the barons for their part made ready their petraries and mangonels on land. And be it known to you that they did not have their time in peace and quiet; for there passed no hour of the night or day but one of the divisions had to stand armed before the gate, to guard the engines, and provide against attack. And, notwithstanding all this, the Greeks ceased not to attack them, by this gate and by others, and held them so short that six or seven times a day the whole host was forced to run to arms. Nor could they forage for provisions more than four bow-shots' distance from the camp. And their stores were but scanty, save of flour and bacon, and of those they had a little; and of fresh meat none at all, save what they got from the horses that were killed. And be it known to you that there was only food generally in the host for three weeks. Thus were they in very perilous case, for never did so few people besiege so many people in any city. FIRST INCIDENTS OF THE ASSAULT Then did they bethink themselves of a very good device; for they enclosed the whole camp with good lists, and good palisades, and good barriers, and were thus far stronger and much more secure. The Greeks meanwhile came on to the attack so frequently that they gave them no rest, and those of the host drove them back with great force; and every time that the Greeks issued forth they lost heavily. One day the Burgundians were on guard, and the Greeks made an attack upon them, with part of the best forces that they had. And the Burgundians ran upon the Greeks and drove them in very fiercely, and followed so close to the gate that stones of great weight were hurled upon them. There was taken one of the best Greeks of the city, whose name was Constantine Lascaris; William of Neuilly took him all 41 mounted upon his horse. And there did William of Champlitte have his arm broken with a stone, and great pity it was, for he was very brave and very valiant. I 'cannot tell you of all the good strokes that were there stricken, nor of all the wounded, nor all the dead. But before the fight was over, there came into it a knight of the following of Henry, the brother, of Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault, and his name was Eustace of Marchais; and he was armed only in padded vest and steel cap, with his shield at his neck; and he did so well in the fray that he won to himself great honour. Few were the days on which no sorties were made; but I cannot tell you of them all. So hardly did they hold us, that we could not sleep, nor rest, nor eat, save in arms. Yet another sortie was made from a gate further up; and there again did the Greeks lose heavily. And there a knight was slain, whose name was William of Gi; and there Matthew of Wallincourt did right well, and lost his horse, which was killed at the drawbridge of the gate; and many others who were in that fight did right well. From this gate, which was beyond the palace of Blachernae, the Greeks issued most frequently, and there Peter of Bracieux gat himself more honour than any, because he was quartered the nearest, and so came most often into the fray. ASSAULT OF THE CITY Thus their peril and toil lasted for nearly ten days, until, on a Thursday morning (I7th July I203) all things were ready for the assault, and the ladders in trim; the Venetians also had made them ready by sea. The order of the assault was so devised, that of the seven divisions, three were to guard the camp outside the city, and other four to give the assault. The Marquis Boniface of Montferrat guarded the camp towards the fields, with the division of the Burgundians, the division of the men of Champagne, and Matthew of Montmorency. Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault went to the assault with his people, and Henry his brother; and . Count Louis of Blois and Chartres, and Count Hugh of St. Paul, and those who held with them, went also to the assault. They planted two ladders at a barbican near the sea; and the wall was well defended by Englishmen and Danes; and 42 the attack was stiff and good and fierce. By main strength certain knights and two sergeants got up the ladders and made themselves masters of the wall; and at least fifteen got upon the wall, and fought there, hand to hand, with axes and swords, and those within redoubled their efforts and cast them out in very ugly sort, keeping two as prisoners' And those of our people who had been taken were led before the Emperor Alexius; much was he pleased thereat. Thus did the assault leave matters on the side of the French. Many were wounded and many had their bones broken, so that the barons were very wroth. Meanwhile the Doge of Venice had not forgotten to do his part, but had ranged his ships and transports and vessels in line, and that line was well three crossbow-shots in length; and the Venetians began to draw near to the part of the shore that lay under the walls and the towers. Then might you have seen the mangonels shooting from the -ships and transports, and the crossbow bolts flying, and the bows letting fly their arrows deftly and well; and those within defending the walls and towers very fiercely; and the ladders on the ships coming so near that in many places swords and lances crossed; and the tumult and noise were so great that it seemed as if the very earth and sea were melting together. And be it known to you that the galleys did not dare to come to the shore. CAPTURE OF TWENTY-FIVE TOWERS Now may you hear of a strange deed of prowess; for the Doge of Venice, who was an old man, and saw naught (seeing he was blind), stood, fully armed, on the prow of his galley, and had the standard of St. Mark before him; and he cried to his people to put him on land, or else that he would do justice upon their bodies with his hands. And so they did, for the galley was run aground, and they leapt therefrom, and bore the standard of St. Mark before him on to the land. And when the Venetians saw the standard of St. Mark on land, and the galley of their lord touching ground before them, each held himself for shamed, and they all gat to the land; and those in the transports leapt forth, and landed; and those in the big ships got into barges, and made for the shore, each and all as best they could. Then might you have 43 seen an assault, great and marvellous; and to this bears witness Geoffry of Villehardouin, who makes this book, that more than forty people told him for sooth that they saw the standard of St. Mark of Venice at the top of one of the towers, and that no man knew who bore it thither. Now hear of a strange miracle: those who are within the city fly and abandon the walls, and the Venetians enter in, each as fast and as best he can, and seize twenty-five of the towers, and man them with their people. And the Doge takes a boat, and sends messengers to the barons of the host to tell them that lie has taken twenty-five towers, and that they may know for sooth that such towers cannot be retaken. The barons are so overjoyed that they cannot believe their ears; and the Venetians begin to send to the host in boats the horses and palfreys they have taken. When the Emperor Alexius saw that our people had thus entered into the city, he sent his people against them in such numbers that our people saw they would be unable to endure the onset. So they set fire to the buildings between them and the Greeks; and the wind blew from our side, and the fire began to wax so great that the Greeks could not see our people who retired to the towers they had seized and conquered. THE EMPEROR ALEXIUS COMES OUT FOR BATTLE, BUT RETIRES WITHOUT ATTACKING Then the Emperor Alexius issued from the city, with all his forces, by other gates which were at least a league from the camp; and so many began to issue forth that it seemed as if the whole world were there assembled. The emperor marshalled his troops in the plain, and they rode towards the camp; and when our Frenchmen saw them coming, they ran to arms from all sides. On that day Henry, the brother of Count Baldwin of Flanders, was mounting guard over the engines of war before the gate of Blachernae, together with Matthew of Wallincourt, and Baldwin of Beauvoir, and their followers. Against their encampment the Emperor Alexius had made ready a great number of his people, who were to issue by three gates, while he himself should fall upon the host from another side. Then the six divisions issued from our camp as had been 44 devised, and were marshalled in ranks before the palisades: the sergeants and squires on foot behind the horses, and the archers and crossbowmen in front. And there was a division of the knights on foot, for we had at least two hundred who, were without horses. Thus they stood still before the palisades. And this showed great good sense, for if they had moved to the attack, the numbers of the enemy were such that they must have been overwhelmed and (as it were) drowned among them. It seemed as if the whole plain was covered with troops, and they advanced slowly and in order. Well might we appear in perilous case, for we had but six divisions, while the Greeks had full forty, and there was not one of their divisions but was larger than any of ours. But ours were ordered in such sort that none could attack them save in front. And the Emperor Alexius rode so far for-ward that either side could shoot at the other. And when the Doge of Venice heard this, he made his people come forth, and leave the towers they had taken, and said he would live or die with the pilgrims. So he came to the camp, and was himself the first to land, and brought with him such of his people as he could. Thus, for a long space, the armies of the pilgrims and of the Greeks stood one against the other; for the Greeks did not dare to throw themselves upon our ranks, and our people would not move from their palisades. And when the Emperor Alexius saw this, he began to withdraw his people, and when he had rallied them, he turned back. And seeing this, the host of the pilgrims began to march towards him with slow steps, and the Greek troops began to move backwards, and retreated to a palace called Philopas. And be it known to you, that never did God save any people from such peril as He saved the host that day; and be it known to you further that there was none in the host so hardy but he had great joy thereof. Thus did the battle remain for that day. As it pleased God nothing further was done. The Emperor Alexius returned to the city, and those of the host to their quarters-the latter taking off their armour, for they were weary and overwrought; and they ate and drank little, seeing that their store of food was but scanty. 45 ALEXIUS ABANDONS CONSTANTINOPLE - HIS BROTHER ISAAC IS REPLACED ON THE THRONE - THE CRUSADERS SEND HIM A MESSAGE Now listen to the miracles of our Lord-how gracious are they whithersoever it pleases Him to perform them! That very might the Emperor Alexius of Constantinople took of his treasure as much as he could carry, and took with him as many of his people as would go, and so fled and abandoned the city. And those of the city remained astonied, and they drew to the prison in which lay the Emperor Isaac, whose eyes had been put out. Him they clothed imperially, and bore to the great palace of Blachernae, and seated on a high throne; and there they did to him obeisance as their lord. Then they took messengers, by the advice of the Emperor Isaac, and sent them to the host, to apprise the son of the Emperor Isaac, and the barons, that the Emperor Alexius had fled, and that they had again raised up the Emperor Isaac as emperor. When the young man knew of this he summoned the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat, and the marquis summoned the barons throughout the host. And when they were met in the pavilion of the Emperor Isaac's son, he told them the news. And when they heard it, their joy was such as cannot be uttered, for never was greater joy in all this world. And greatly and most devoutly was our Lord praised by all, in that He had succoured them within so short a term, and exalted them so high from such a low estate. And therefore well may one say: " Him whom God will help can no man injure." Then the day began to dawn, and the host to put on their armour; and all gat them to their arms throughout the host, because they did not greatly trust the Greeks. And messengers began to come out from the city, two or three together, and told the same tale. The barons and counts, and the Doge of Venice had agreed to send envoys into the city, to know how matters really stood; and, if that was true which had been reported, to demand of the father that he should ratify the covenants made by the son; and, if he would not, to, declare that they on their part should not suffer the son to enter into the city. So envoys were chosen: one was 46 Matthew of Montmorency, and Geoffry the Marshal of Champagne was the other, and two Venetians on the part of the Doge of Venice. The envoys were conducted to the gate, and the gate was opened to them, and they dismounted from their horses. The Greeks had set Englishmen and Danes, with their axes, at the gate and right up to the palace of Blachernae. Thus were the envoys conducted to the great palace. There they found the Emperor Isaac, so richly clad that you would seek in vain throughout the world for a man more richly apparelled than he, and by his side the empress, his wife, a most fair lady, the sister of the King of Hungary; and of great men and great ladies there were so many, that you could not St' ir foot for the press, and the ladies were so richly adomed that richer adornment might not be. And all those who, the day before, had been against the emperor were, on that day, subject in everything to his good pleasure. THE EMPEROR ISAAC RATIFIES THE COVENANTS ENTERED INTO BY HIS SON The envoys came before the Emperor Isaac, and the emperor and all those about him did them great honour. And the envoys said that they desired to speak to him privily, ,on the part of his son, and of the barons of the host. And he rose and entered into a chamber, and took with him only the empress, and his chancellor, and his dragoman (interpreter) and the four envoys. By consent of the other envoys, Geoffry of Villehardouin, the Marshal of Champagne, acted as spokesman, and he said to the Emperor Isaac: " Sire, thou seest the service we have rendered to thy son, and how we have kept our covenants with him. But he cannot come hither till he has given us surety for the covenants he has made with us. And he asks of thee, as thy son, to confirm those covenants in the same form, and the same manner, that he has done." " What covenants are they? " said the emperor. " They are such as we shall tell you," replied the envoys: " In the first place to put the whole empire of Roumania in obedience to Rome, from which it has been separated this long while; further to give 200,000 marks of silver to those of the host, with food for one year for small and great; to send 10,000 men, horse and foot - many on 47 foot as we shall devise and as many mounted-in his own ships, and at his own charges, to the land of Babylon, and keep them there for a year; and during his lifetime to keep, at his own charges, five hundred knights in the land overseass so that they may guard that land. Such is the covenant that your son made with us, and it was confirmed by oath, and charters with seals appended, and by King Philip of Germany who has your daughter to wife. This covenant we desire you to confirm." Certes said the emperor, " this covenant is very onerous, and I do not see how effect can be given to it; nevertheless, you have done us such service, both to my son and to myself, that if we bestowed upon you the whole empire, you would have deserved it well." Many words were then spoken in this sense and that, but, in the end, the father confirmed the 'covenants, as his son had confirmed them, by oath and by charters with gold seals appended. These charters were delivered to the envoys. Then they took their leave of the Emperor Isaac, and went back to the host, and told the barons that they had fulfilled their mission. ENTRY OF THE CRUSADERS INTO CONSTANTINOPLE - CORONATION OF THE YOUNG ALEXIUS Then did the barons mount their horses, and led the young man, with great rejoicings, into the city, to his father; and the Greeks opened the gate to him, and received him with very much rejoicing and great feasting. The joy of the father and of the son was very great, because of a long time they had not seen one another, and because, by God's help and that of the pilgrims, they had passed from so great poverty and ruin to such high estate. Therefore the joy was great inside Constantinople; and also without, among the host of the pilgrims, because of the honour and victory that God had given them. And on the morrow the emperor and his son also besought the counts and the barons, for God's sake, to go and quarter themselves on the other side of the straits, toward Estanor and Galata; for, if they quartered themselves in the city, it was to be feared that quarrels would ensue between them and the Greeks, and it might well chance that the city would be destroyed. And the counts and barons said that they had 48 already served him in so many ways that they would not now refuse any request of his. So they went and quartered themselves on the other side, and sojoumed there in peace and quiet, and with great store of good provisions. Now you must know that many of those in the host went to see Constantinople, and the rich palaces and great churches, of which there were many, and all the great wealth of the city-for never was there city that possessed so much. Of relics it does not behove me to speak, for at that day there were as many there as in all the rest of the world. Thus did the Greeks and French live in good fellowship in all things, both as regards trafficking and other matters. By common consent of Franks and Greeks it was settled that the new emperor should be crowned on the feast of our Lord St. Peter (1st August 1203). So was it settled, and so it was done. He was crowned full worthily and with honour according to the use for Greek emperors at that time. Afterwards he began to pay the moneys due to the host; and such moneys were divided among the host, and each repaid what had been advanced in Venice for his passage. ALEXIUS BEGS THE CRUSADERS TO PROLONG THEIR STAY The new emperor went oft to see the barons in the camp, and did them great honour, as much as he could; and this was but fitting, seeing that they had served him right well. And one day he came to the camp, to see the barons privily in the quarters of Count Baldwin of Hainault and Flanders. Thither were summoned the Doge of Venice, and the great barons, and he spoke to them and said: " Lords, I am emperor by God's grace and yours, and you have done me the highest service that ever yet was done by any people to Christian man. Now be it known to you that there are folk enough who show me a fair seeming, and yet love me not; and the Greeks are full of despite because it is by your help that I have entered into my inheritance. Now the term of your departure is nigh, and your fellowship with the Venetians is timed only to last till the feast of St. Michael. And within so short a term I cannot fulfil our covenant. Be it known to you therefore, that, if you abandon me, the Greeks hate me because of you: I shall losemy land, and they will kill me. But now do this thing that 49 I ask of you: remain here till March, and I will entertain your ships for one year from the feast of St. Michael, and bear the cost of the Venetians, and will give you such things as you may stand in need of till Easter. And within that term I shall have placed my land in such case that I cannot lose it again; and your covenant will be fulfilled, for I shall have paid such moneys as are due to you, obtaining them from all mi lands; and I shall be ready also with ships either to go with you myself, or to send others, as I have covenanted; and you will have the summer from end to end in which to carry on the war against the Saracens." The barons thereupon said they would consult together apart; knowing full well that what the young man said was sooth, and that it would be better, both for the emperor and for themselves, to consent unto him. But they replied that they could not so consent save with the common agreement of the host, and that they would therefore lay the matter before the host, and then give such answer as might be devised. So the Emperor Alexius departed from them, and went back to Constantinople. And they remained in the camp and assembled a parliament the next day. To this parliament were summoned all the barons and the chieftains of the host, and of the knights the greater part; and in their hearing were repeated all the words that the emperor had spoken. DEBATE AMONG THE CRUSADERS - DEATH OF MATTHEW OF MONTMORENCY Then was there much discord in the host, as had been oft times before on the part of those who wished that the host should break up; for to them it seemed to be holding together too long. And the party that had raised the discord at Corfu reminded the others of their oaths, and said: " Give us ships as you swore to us, for we purpose to go to Syria." And the others cried to them for pity and said: " Lords, for God's sake, let us not bring to naught the great honour that God has given us. If we go to Syria at this present, we shall come thither at the beginning of winter and so not be able to make war, and the Lord's work will thus remain undone. But if we wait till March, we shall leave this emperor in good estate, and go hence rich in goods and in food. Thus 50 shall we go to Syria, and over-run the land of Babylon. And the fleet will remain with us till Michaelmas, yes, and onwards from Michaelmas to Easter, seeing it will be unable to leave us because of the winter. So shall the land overseas fall into our hands." Those who wished the host to be broken up, cared not for reasons good or bad so long as the host fell to pieces. But those who wished to keep the host together, wrought so effectually, with the help of God, that in the end the Venetians made a new covenant to maintain the fleet for a year, reckoning from Michaelmas, the Emperor Alexius paying them for so doing; and the pilgrims, on their side, made a new covenant to remain in the same fellowship as theretofore, and for the same term. Thus were peace and concord established in the host. Then there befell a very great mischance in the host; for Matthew of Montmorency, who was one of the best knights in the kingdom of France, and of the most prized and most honoured, took to his bed for sickness, and his sickness so increased upon him that he died. And much dole was made for him, for great was the loss-one of the greatest that had befallen the host by any man's death. He was buried in a church of my Lord St. John, of the Hospital of Jerusalem. PROGRESS OF THE YOUNG ALEXIUS THROUGH THE EMPIRE Afterwards, by the advice of the Greeks and the French the Emperor Alexius issued from Constantinople, with a very great company, purposing to quiet the empire and subject it to his will. With him went a great part of the barons; and the others remained to guard the camp. The Marquis Boniface of Montferrat went with him, and Count Hugh of St. Paul, and Henry, brother to Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault, and James of Avesnes, and William of Champlitte, and Hugh of Colerni, and many others whom the book does not here mention by name. In the camp remained Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault, and Count Louis of Blois and Chartres, and the greater part of the pilgrims of lesser note. And you must know that during this progress all the Greeks, on either side of the straits, came to the Emperor 51 Alexius, to do his will and commandment, and did him fealty and homage as to their lord-all except John, who was King of Wallachia and Bulgaria. This John was a Wallachian, who had rebelled against. his father and uncle, and had warred against them for twenty years, and had won from them so much land that he had become a very wealthy king. -And be it known to you, that of the land lying on the west side of the Straits of St. George, he had conquered very nearly the half. This John did not come to do the will of the emperor, nor to submit himself to him. CONFLICT BETWEEN THE GREEKS AND LATINS IN CONSTANTINOPLE-BURNING OF THE CITY While the Emperor Alexius was away on this progress, there befell a very grievous misadventure; for a conflict arose between the Greeks and the Latins who inhabited Constantinople, and of these last there were many. And certain people-who they were I know not-out of malice, set fire to the city; and the fire waxed so great and horrible that no man could put it out or abate it. And when the barons of the host, who were quartered on the other side of the port, saw this, they were sore grieved and filled with pity-seeing the great churches and the rich palaces melting and falling in, and the great streets filled with merchandise burning in the flames; but they could do nothing. Thus did the fire prevail, and win across the port, even to the densest part of the city, and to the sea on the other side, quite near to the church of St. Sophia. It lasted two days and two nights, nor could it be put out by the hand of man. And the front of the fire, as it went flaming, was well over half a league broad. What was the damage then done, what the possessions and riches swallowed up, could no man tell-nor what the number of men and women and children who perished-for many were burned. All the Latins, to whatever land they might belong, who were lodged in Constantinople, dared no longer to remain therein; but they took their wives and their children, and such of their possessions as they could save from the fire, and entered into boats and vessels, and passed over the port and came to the camp of the pilgrims. Nor were they few in number, for there were of them some fifteen thousand, small 52 and great; and afterwards it proved to be of advantage to the pilgrims that these should have crossed over to them. Thus was there division between the Greeks and the Franks; nor were they ever again as much at one as they had been before, for neither side knew on whom to cast the blame for the fire; and this rankled in men's hearts upon either side. At that time did a thing befall whereby the barons and those of the host were greatly saddened; for the Abbot of Loos died, who was a holy man and a worthy, and had wished well to the host. He was a monk of the order of the Cistercians. THE YOUNG ALEXIUS RETURNS TO CONSTANTINOPLIZHE FAILS IN HIS PROMISES TO THE CRUSADERS The Emperor Alexius remained for a long time on progress, till St. Martin's Day, and then he returned to Constantinople. Great was the joy at his home-coming, and the Greeks and ladies of Constantinople went out to meet their friends in great cavalcades, and the pilgrims went out to meet their friends, and had great joy of them. So did the emperor re-enter Constantinople and the palace of Blachernae; and the Marquis of Montferrat and the other barons returned to the camp. The emperor, who had managed his affairs right well and thought he had now the upper hand, was filled with arrogance towards the barons and those who had done so much for him, and never came to see them in the camp, as he had done aforetime. And they sent to him and begged him to pay them the moneys due, as he had covenanted. But he led them on from delay to delay, making them, at one time and another, payments small and poor; and in the end the payments ceased and came to naught. The Marquis Boniface of Montferrat, who had done more for him than any other, and stood better in his regard, went to him oftentimes, and showed him what great services the Crusaders had rendered him, and that greater services had never been rendered to any one. And the emperor still entertained them with delays, and never carried out such things as he had promised, so that at last they saw and knew clearly that his intent was wholly evil. Then the barons of the host held a parliament with the 53 Doge of Venice, and they said that they now knew that the emperor would fulfil no covenant, nor ever speak sooth to them; and they decided to send good envoys to demand the fulfilment of their covenant, and to show what services they had done him; and if he would now do what was required, they were to be satisfied; but, if not, they were to defy him, and right well might he rest assured that the barons would by all means recover their due. THE CRUSADERS DEFY THE EMPERORS For this embassy were chosen Conon of Béthune and Geoffry of Villehardouin, the Marshal of Champagne, and Miles the Brabant of Provins; and the Doge also sent three chief men of his council. So these envoys mounted their horses, and, with swords girt, rode together till they came to the palace of Blachernae. And be it known to you that, by reason of the treachery of the Greeks, they went in great peril, and on a hard adventure. They dismounted at the gate and entered the palace, and found the Emperor Alexius and the Emperor Isaac seated on two thrones, side by side. And near them was seated the empress, who was the wife of the father, and stepmother of the son, and sister to the King of Hungary-a lady both fair and good. And there were with them a great company of people of note and rank, so that well did the court seem the court of a rich and mighty prince. By desire of the other envoys Conon of Béthune, who was very wise and eloquent of speech, acted as spokesman: "Sire, we have come to thee on the part of the barons of the host and of the Doge of Venice. They would put thee in mind of the great service they have done to thee-a service known to the people and manifest to all men. Thou hast swom, thou and thy father, to fulfil the promised covenants, and they have your charters in hand. But you have not fulfilled those covenants well, as you should have done. Many times have they called upon you to do so, and now again we call upon you, in the presence of all your barons, to fulfil the covenants that are between you and them. Should you do so, it shall be well. If not, be it known to you that from this day forth they will not hold you as lord or friend, but will endeavour to obtain their due by all the means in their 54 Power. And of this they now give you warning, seeing that they would not injure you, nor any one, without first defiance given; for never have they acted treacherously, nor in their land is it customary to do so. You have heard what we have said. It is for you to take counsel thereon according to your pleasure." Much were the Greeks amazed and greatly outraged by this open defiance; and they said that never had any one been so hardy as to dare defy the Emperor of Constantinople in his own hall. Very evil were the looks now cast on the envoys by the Emperor Alexius and by all the Greeks, who aforetime were wont to regard them very favourably. Great was the tumult there within, and the envoys turned about and came to the gate and mounted their horses. When they got outside the gate, there was not one of them but felt glad at heart; nor is that to be marvelled at, for they had escaped from very great peril, and it held to very little that they were not all killed or taken. So they returned to the camp, and told the barons how they had fared. THE WAR BEGINS - THE GREEKS ENDEAVOUR TO SET FIRE TO THE FLEET OF THE CRUSADERS Thus did the war begin; and each side did to the other as much harm as they could, by sea and by land. The Franks and the Greeks fought often; but never did they fight, let God be praised therefor I that the Greeks did not lose more than the Franks. So the war lasted a long space, till the heart of the winter. Then the Greeks bethought themselves of a very great device, for they took seven large ships, and filled them full of big logs, and shavings, and tow, and resin, and barrels, and then waited until such time as the wind should blow strongly from their side of the straits. And one night, at midnight, they set fire to the ships, and unfurled their sails to the wind. And the flames blazed up high, so that it seemed as if the whole world were a-fire. Thus did the burning ships come towards the fleet of the pilgrims; and a great cry arose in the host, and all sprang to arms on every side. The Venetians ran to their ships, and so did all those who had ships in possession, and they began to draw them away out of the flames very vigorously. 55 And to this bears witness Geoffry the Marshal of Champagne, who dictates this work, that never did people help themselves better at sea than the Venetians did that night; for they sprang into the galleys and boats belonging to the ships, and seized upon the fire ships, all burning as they were, with hooks, and dragged them by main force before their enemies, outside the port, and set them into the current of the straits, and left them to go burning down the straits. So many of the Greeks had come down to the shore that they were without end and innumerable, and their cries were so great that it seemed as if the earth and sea would melt together. They got into barges and boats, and shot at those on our side who were battling with the flames, so that some were wounded. All the knights of the host, as soon as they heard the clamour, armed themselves; and the battalions marched out into the plain, each according to the order in which they had been quartered, for they feared lest the Greeks should also attack them on land. They endured thus in labour and anguish till daylight; but by God's help those on our side lost nothing, save a Pisan ship, which was full of merchandise, and was burned with fire. Deadly was the peril in which we stood that night, for if the fleet had been consumed, all would have been lost, and we should never have been able to get away by land or sea. Such was the guerdon which the Emperor Alexius would have bestowed upon us in return for our services. MOURZUPHLES USURPS THE EMPIRE - ISAAC DIES, AND THE YOUNG ALEXIUS IS STRANGLED Then the Greeks, being thus embroiled with the Franks, saw that there was no hope of peace; so they privily took counsel together to betray their lord. Now there was a Greek who stood higher in his favour than all others, and had done more to make him embroil himself with the Franks than any other. This Greek was named Mourzuphles. With the advice and consent of the others, one night towards midnight, when the Emperor Alexius was asleep in his chamber, those who ought to have been guarding him and specially Mourzuphles-took him in his bed and threw him into a dungeon in prison. Then Mourzuphles assumed 56 the scarlet buskins with the help and by the counsel of the other Greeks (January 1204). So he made himself emperor. Afterwards they crowned him at St. Sophia. Now see if. ever people were guilty of such horrible treachery! When the Emperor Isaac heard that his son was taken and Mourzuphles crowned, great fear came upon him, and he fell into a sickness that lasted no long time. So he died. And the Emperor Mourzuphles caused the son, whom he had in prison, to be poisoned two or three times; but it did not please God that he should thus die. Afterwards the emperor went and strangled him, and when he had strangled him, he caused it to be reported everywhere that he had died a natural death, and had him mourned for, and buried honourably and as an emperor, and made great show of grief. But murder cannot be hid. Soon was it clearly known, both to the Greeks and to the French, that this murder had been committed, as has just been told to you. Then did the barons of the host and the Doge of Venice assemble in parliament, and with them met the bishops and the clergy. And all the clergy, including those who had powers from the Pope, showed to the barons and to the pilgrims that any one guilty of such a murder had no right to hold lands, and that those who consented thereto were abettors of the murder; and beyond all this, that the Greeks had withdrawn themselves from obedience to Rome. "Wherefore we tell you," said the clergy, " that this war is lawful and just, and that if you have a right intention in conquering this land, to bring it into the Roman obedience, all those who die after confession shall have part in the indulgence granted by the Pope." And you must know that by this the barons and pilgrims were greatly comforted. THE CRUSADERS CONTINUE THE WAR - DEFEAT OF MOURZUPHLES Dire was the war between the Franks and the Greeks, for it abated not, but rather increased and waxed fiercer, so that few were the days on which there was not fighting by sea or land. Then Henry, the brother of Count Baldwin of Flanders rode forth, and took with him a great part of the good men in the host. With him went James of Avesnes, and Baldwin of Beauvoir, Odo of Champagne of Champlitte, 57 William his brother, and the people of their country. They started at vesper time and rode all night, and on the morrow, when it was full day, they came to a good city, called Phile, and took it; and they had great gain, beasts, and prisoners, and clothing, and food, which they sent in boats down the straits to the camp, for the city lies on the sea of Russia. So they sojoumed two days in that city, with food in great plenty, enough and to spare. The third day they departed with the beasts and the booty, and rode back towards the camp. Now the Emperor Mourzuphles heard tell how they had issued from the camp, and he left Constantinople by night, with a great part of his people, and set himself in ambush at a place by which they must needs pass. And he watched them pass with their beasts and their booty, each division, the one after the other, till it came to the rearguard. The rear-guard was under the command of Henry, the brother of Count Baldwin of Flanders, and formed of his people, and the Emperor Mourzuphles fell upon them at the entrance to a wood; whereupon they turned against him. Very fiercely did the battle rage there. By God's help the Emperor Mourzuphles was discomfited, and came near to being taken captive; and he lost his imperial banner and an Eikon that was home before him, in which he and the other Greeks had great confidence-it was an ikon that figured our Lady-and he lost at least twenty knights of the best people that he had. Thus was discomfited the Emperor Mourzuphles, as you have just heard and fiercely did the war rage between him and the Franks; and by this time a great part of the winter had already passed, and it was near Candlemas (2nd February 1204), and Lent was approaching. OF THE PILGRIMS WHO HAD GONE TO SYRIA Now we will leave off speaking of the host before Constantinople, and speak of those who sailed from other ports than Venice, and of the ships of Flanders that had sojoumed during the winter at Marseilles, and had all gone over in the summer to the land of Syria; and these were far more in number than the host before Constantinople. Listen now, and you shall hear what a great mischance it was that they 58 had not joined themselves to the host, for in that case would Christendom have been for ever exalted. But because of their sins, God would not so have it, for some died of the sickness of the land, and some turned back to their own homes. Nor did they perform any great deeds, or achieve aught of good, in the land overseass And there started also a company of very good men to go to Antioch, to join Boemond, prince of Antioch and Count of Tripoli, who was at war with King Leon, the lord of the Armenians. This company was going to the prince to be in his pay; and the Turks of the land knew of it, and made an ambuscade there where the men of the company needs must pass. And they came thither, and fought, and the Franks were discomfited, so that not one escaped that was not killed or taken. There were slain Villain of Neuilly, who was one of the best knights in the world, and Giles of Trasegnies, and many others; and were taken Bernard of Moreuil, and Renaud of Dampierre, and John of Villers, and William of Neuilly. And you must know that eightty knights were in this company, and every one was either killed or taken. And well does this book bear witness, that of those who avoided the host of Venice, there was not one but suffered harm or shame. He therefore must be accounted wise who holds to the better course. AGREEMENT BETWEEN THE FRANKS AND VENETIANS BEFORE ATTACKING CONSTANTINOPLE Now let us leave speaking of those who avoided the host, and speak of those before Constantinople. Well had these prepared all their engines, and mounted their petraries, and mangonels on the ships and on the transports, and got ready all such engines of war as are needful for the taking of a city, and raised ladders from the yards and masts of the vessels, so high that they were a marvel to behold.* [note: This passage is obscure in the original.] And when the Greeks saw this, they began, on their side, to strengthen the defences of the city which was enclosed with high walls and high towers. Nor was any tower so high that they did not raise thereon two or three stages of wood to heighten it still more. Never was city so well fortified. 59 Thus did the Greeks and the Franks bestir themselves on the one side and the other during the greater part of Lent. Then those of the host spoke together, and took counsel what they should do. Much was advanced this way and that, but in the end, they devised that if God granted them entry into the city by force, all the booty taken was to be brought together, and fittingly distributed; and further, if the city fell into their power, six men should be taken from among the Franks, and six from among the Venetians, and these twelve should swear, on holy relics, to elect as emperor the man who, as they deemed, would rule with most profit to the land. And whosoever was thus elected emperor, would have one quarter of whatever was captured, whether within the city or without, and moreover would possess the palace of Bucoleon and that of Blachernae; and the remaining three parts would be divided into two, and one of the halves awarded to the Venetians and the other to those of the host. And there should be taken twelve of the wisest and most experienced men among the host of the pilgrims, and twelve among the Venetians, and those twenty-four would divide fiefs and honours, and appoint the service to be done therefor to the emperor. This covenant was made sure and sworn to on the one side and the other b' the Franks and the Venetians; with provision that at the end of March, a year thence, any who so desired might depart hence and go their way, but that those who remained in the land would be held to the service of the emperor in such mariner as might be ordained. Thus was the covenant devised and made sure; and such as should not observe it were excommunicated by the clergy. ATTACK OF THE CRUSADERS REPULSED - THEY MAKE READY FOR ANOTHER ASSAULT The fleet was very well prepared and armed, and provisions were got together for the pilgrims. On the Thursday after mid-Lent (8th April 1204), all entered into the vessels, and put their horses into the transports. Each division had its own ships, and all were ranged side by side; and the ships were separated from the galleys and transports. A marvellous sight it was to see; and well does this book bear 60 witness that the attack, as it had been devised, extended over full half a French league. On the Friday morning the ships and the galleys and the other vessels drew near to the city in due order, and then began an assault most fell and fierce. In many places the pilgrims landed and went up to the walls, and in many places the scaling ladders on the ships approached so close, that those on the towers and on the walls and those on the ladders crossed lances, hand to hand. Thus lasted the assault, in more than a hundred places, very fierce, and very dour, and very proud, till near upon the hour of nones. But, for our sins, the pilgrims were repulsed in that assault, and those who had landed from the galleys and transports were driven back into them by main force. And you must know that on that day those of the host lost more than the Greeks, and much were the Greeks rejoiced thereat. And some there were who drew back from the assault, with the ships in which they were. And some remained with their ships at anchor so near to the city that from either side they shot at one another with petraries and mangonels. Then, at vesper time, those of the host and the Doge of Venice called together a parliament, and assembled in a church on the other side of the straits-on the side where they had been quartered. There were many opinions given and discussed; and much were those of the host moved for the mischief that had that day befallen them. And many advised that they should attack the city on another side the side where it was not so well fortified. But the Venetians, who had fuller knowledge of the sea, said that if they went to that other side, the current would carry them down the straits, and that they would be unable to stop their ships. And you must know that there were those who would have been well pleased if the current had home them down the straits, or the wind, they cared not whither, so long -as they left that land behind, and went on their way. Nor is this to be wondered at, for they were in sore peril. Enough was there spoken, this way and in that; but the conclusion of their deliberation was this: that they would repair and refit on the following day, which was Saturday, and during the whole of Sunday, and that on the Monday they would return to the assault; and they devised further that the ships that carried the scaling ladders should be 61 bound together, two and two, so that two ships should be in case to attack one tower; for they had perceived that day how only one ship had attacked each tower, and that this had been too heavy a task for the ship, seeing that those in the tower were more in number than those on the ladder. For this reason was it well seen that two ships would attack each tower with greater effect than one. As had been settled, so was it done, and they waited thus during the Saturday and Sunday. THE CRUSADERS TAKE A PART OF THE CITY Before the assault the Emperor Mourzuphles had come to encamp, with all his power, in an open space, and had there pitched his scarlet tents. Thus matters remained till the Monday morning, when those on the ships, transports, and galleys were all armed. And those of the city stood in much less fear of them than they did at the beginning, and were in such good spirits that on the walls and towers you could see nothing but people. Then began an assault proud and marvellous, and every ship went straight before it to the attack. The noise of the battle was so great that it seemed to read the earth. Thus did the assault last for a long while, till our Lord raised a wind called Boreas which drove the ships and vessels further up on to the shore. And two ships that were bound together, of which the one was called the Pilgrim and the other the Paradise, approached so near to a tower, the one on the one side and the other on the other-so as God and the wind drove them-that the ladder of the Pilgrim joined on to the tower. Immediately a Venetian, and a knight of France, whose name was Andrew of Urboise, entered into the tower, and other people benan to enter after them, and those in the tower were discomfited and fled.* [NOTE [pp. 61-63]: I should like to quote here another feat of arms related by Robert of Clari, one of those feats that serve to explain how the Crusaders obtained mastery - the mastery of perfect fearlessness - over the Greeks. Robert of Clari, then, relates how a small body of the besiegers, ten knights and nine sergeants, had come before a postem which had been newly bricked up.- "Now there was there a clerk, Aleaume of Clari by name, who had shown his courage whenever there was need, and was always first in any assault at which he might be present; and when the tower of Galata was taken, this same clerk had performed more deeds of prowess with his body, man for man, than any one in the host, save only the Lord Peter of Bracuel; for the Lord Peter it was who surpassed all others, whether of high or low degree, so that there was none other that performed such feats of arms, or acts of prowess with his body, as the Lord Peter of Bracuel. So when they came to the postern they began to hew and pick at it very hardily; but the bolts flew at them so thick, and so many stones were hurled at them from the wall, that it seemed as if they would be buried beneath the stones-sucb was the mass of quarries and stones thrown from above. And those who were below held up targes and shields to cover those who were picking and hewing underneath; and those above threw down pots of boiling pitch, and Greek fire, and large rocks, so that it was one of God's miracles that the assailants were not utterly confounded; for my Lord Peter and his men suffered more than enough of blows and grievous danger. However, so did they hack at the postern, both above and below, with their axes and good swords, that they made a great bole therein; and when the postern was broken through, they all swarmed to the aperture, but saw so many people above and below, that it seemed as if half the world were there, and they dared not be so bold as to enter. "Now when Aleaume, the clerk, saw that no one dared to go in, be sprang forward, and said that go in he would. And there was there present a knight, a brother to the clerk (the knight's name was Robert ofClari),who-forbade him,and said he should not go in. And the clerk said he would, and scrambled in on his hands and feet. And when the knight saw this, he took hold upon him, by the foot, and began to drag him back. But in his brother's despite, and whether his brother would or not, the clerk went in. And when he was within, many were the Greeks who ran upon him, and those on the walls cast big stones upon him. And the clerk drew his knife, and ran at them; and he drave them before him as if they had been cattle, and cried to those who were without, to the Lord Peter of Amiens and his folk, 'Sire, come in boldly, I see that they are falling back discomfited and flying.' When my Lord Peter heard this, he and his people who were without, they entered in; and there were no more than ten knights with him, but there were some sixty sergeants, and they were all on foot. And when those who were on the wall at that place saw them, they had such fear that thev did not dare to remain there, but avoided a great space on the wall, and fled helter-skelter. "Now the Emperor Mourzuphles, the traitor, was near by, at less than a stone's throw of distance, and he caused the silver horns to be sounded, and the cymbals, and a great noise to be made. And when he saw my Lord Peter, and his people, who bad entered in on foot, he made a great show of falling upon them, and spurring forward, came about half-way to where they stood. But mv Lord Peter, when he saw him coming, began to encourage his people, and to say: 'Now, Lord God, grant that we may do well, and the battle is ours. Here comes the emperor! Let no one dare to think of retreat, but each bethink himself to do well' Then Mourzuphles, seeing that they would in no wise give way, stayed where he was, and then turned back to his tents." After this, according to Robert of Clari, Lord Peter's men break open a gate, and.the Crusaders enter into the city. See Li Estoires de chiaus qus conquisent Constantinoble. de Robert de Clari en aminois, chevalier, pp. 60-62. The volume in the British Museum is undated, and there is this note in the catalogue, " No more printed." The volume itself is noteless, though there are printed marks here and there which would suggest that notes were intended. The Chronicle of Robert of Clari win also be found in Hopf's Chroniques Gréco-romanes inédites ou peu connues, etc., pp. 1-85, Berlin, 1873.] 62 When the knights see this, who are in the transports, they land, and raise their ladders against the wall, and scale the top of the wall by main force, and so take four of the towers. And all begin to leap out of the ships and transports and galleys, helter-skelter, each as best he can; and they break in some three of the gates and enter in; and they draw the horses out of the transports; and the knights mount and ride straight to the quarters of the Emperor Mourzuphles. He had his battalions arrayed before his tents, and when his men see the mounted knights coming, they lose heart and fly; and so goes the emperor flying through the streets to the castle of Bucoleon. Then might you have seen the Greeks beaten down; and horses and palfreys captured, and mules, and other booty. Of killed and wounded there was neither end nor measure. A great part of the Greek lords had fled towards the gate of 63 Blachernae. And vesper-time was already past, and those of the host were wear of the battle and of the slaying,. And they began to assemble in a great open space that was in Constantinople, and decided that they would take up their quarters near the walls and towers they had captured. Never had they thought that in a whole month they should be able to take the city, with its great churches, and great palaces, and the people that were in it. FLIGHT OF MOURZUPHLES - SECOND FIRE IN CONSTANTINOPLE As they had settled, so was it done, and they encamped before the walls and before the towers by their ships. Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault quartered himself in the scarlet tents that the Emperor Mourzuphles had left standing, and Henry his brother before the palace of Blachernae; and Boniface, Marquis of Montferrat, he and his men, towards the thickest part of the city. So were the host encamped as you have heard, and Constantinople taken on the Monday after Palm Sunday (12th April 1204). Now Count Louis of Blois and Chartres had languished all the winter with a q ' uartan fever, and could not bear his armour. And you must know that this was a great misfor- 64 tune to the host, seeing he was a good knight of his body; and he lay in one of the transports. Thus did those of the host, who were very weary, rest that night. But the Emperor Mourzuphles rested not, for he assembled all his people, and said he would go and attack the Franks. Nevertheless he did not do as he had said, for he rode along other streets, as far as he could from those held by the host, and came to a gate which is called the Golden Gate, whereby he escaped, and avoided the city; and afterwards all who could fled also. And of all this those of the host knew nothing. During that night, towards the quarters of Boniface Marquis of Montfcrrat, certain people, whose names are unknown to me, being in fear lest the Greeks should attack them, set fire to the buildings between themselves and the Greeks. And the city began to take fire, and to burn very direfully; and it burned all that night and all the next day, till vesper-time. And this was the third fire there had been in Constantinople since the Franks arrived in the land; and more houses had been burned in the city than there are houses in any three of the greatest cities in the kingdom of France. That night passed and the next day came, which was a Tuesday morning (13th April 1204); and all armed themselves throughout the host, both knights and sergeants, and each repaired to his post. Then they issued from their quarters, and thought to find a sorer battle than the day before, for no word had come to them that the emperor had fled during the night. But they found none to oppose them. THE CRUSADERS OCCUPY THE CITY The Marquis Boniface of Montferrat rode all along the shore to the palace of Bucoleon, and when he arrived there it surrendered, on condition that the lives of all therein should be spared. At Bucoleon were found the larger number of the great ladies who had fled to the castle, for there were found the sister [Agnes, sister of Philip Augustus, married successively to Alexius II., to Andronicus, and to Theodore Branas] of the King of France, who had been empress, and the sister [Margaret, sister of Emeric, King of Hungary, married to the Emperor Isaac, and afterwards to the Marquis of Montferrat.] of the King of Hungary, who 65 had also been empress, and other ladies very many. Of the treasure that was found in that palace I cannot well speak, for there was so much that it was beyond end or counting. At the same time that this palace was surrendered to the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat, did the palace of Blachernae surrender to Henry, the brother of Count Baldwin of Flanders, on condition that no hurt should be done to the bodies of those who were therein. There too was found much treasure, not less than in the palace of Bucoleon. Each garrisoned with his own people the castle that had been surrendered to him, and set a auard over the treasure. And the other people, spread abroad throughout the city, also gained much booty. The booty gained was so great that none could tell you the end of it: gold and silver, and vessels and precious stones, and samite, and cloth of silk, and robes vair and grey, and ermine, and every choicest thing found upon the earth. And well does Geoffry of Villehardouin the Marshal of Champagne, bear witness, that never, since the world was created, had so much booty been won in any city. Every one took quarters where he pleased and of lodgings there was no stint. So the host of the pilgrims and of the Venetians found quarters, and greatly did they rejoice and give thanks because of the victory God had vouchsafed to them-for those who before had been poor were now in wealth and luxury. Thus they celebrated Palm Sunday and the Easter Day following (25th April 1204) in the joy and honour that God had bestowed upon them. And well miaht they praise our Lord, since in all the host there were no more than twenty thousand armed men, one with another, and with the help of God they had conquered four hundred thousand men, or more, and in the strongest city in all the world - yea, a great city - and very well fortified. DIVISION OF THE SPOIL Then was it proclaimed throughout the host by the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat, who was lord of the host, and by the barons, and by the Doge of Venice, that all the booty should be collected and brou-ht together, as had been covenanted under oath and pain of excommunication. Three churches were appointed for the receiving of the 66 spoils, and guards were set to have them in charge, both Franks and Venetians, the most upright that could be found. Then each began to bring in such booty as he had taken, and to collect it together. And some brought in loyally, and some in evil sort, because covetousness, which is the root of all evil, let and hindered them. So from that time forth the covetous began to keep things back, and our Lord began to love them less. Ah God! how loyally they had borne themselves up to now! And well had the Lord God shown them that in all things He was ready to honour and exalt them above all people. But full oft do the good suffer for the sins of the wicked. The spoils and booty were collected together, and you must know that all was not brought into the common stock, for not a few kept thin-s back, maugre the excommunication of the Pope. That which was brought to the churches was collected together and divided, in equal parts, between the Franks and the Venetians, according to the sworn covenant. And you must know further that the pilgrims, after the division had been made, paid out of their share fifty thousand marks of silver to the Venetians, and then divided at least one hundred thousand marks between themselves, among their own people. And shall I tell you in what wise? Two sergeants on foot counted as one mounted, and two sergeants mounted as one knight. And you must know that no man received more, either on account of his rank or because of his deeds, than that which had been so settled and orderedsave in so far as he may have stolen it. And as to theft, and those who were convicted thereof, you must know that stem justice was meted out to such as were found guilty, and not a few were hung. The Count of St. Paul hung one of his knights, who had kept back certain spoils, with his shield to his neck; but many there were, both great and small, who kept back part of the spoils, and it was never known. Well may you be assured that the spoil wa- very great, for if it had not been for what was stolet- and for the part given to the Venetians, there would if have been at least four hundred thousand marks of silver and at least ten thousand horses-one with another. Thus were divided the spoils of Constantinople, as you have heard. 67 BALDWIN, COUNT OF FLANDERS, ELECTED EMPEROR Then a parliament assembled, and the commons of the host declared that an emperor must be elected, as had been settled aforetime. And they parliamented so long that the matter was adjourned to another day, and on that day would they choose the twelve electors who were to make the election. Nor was it possible that there should be lack of candidates, or of men covetous, seeing that so great an honour was in question as the imperial throne of Constantinople. But the greatest discord that arose was the discord concerning Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault and the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat; for all the people said that either of those two should be elected. And when the chief men of the host saw that all held either for Count Baldwin or for the Marquis of Montferrat, they conferred together and said: " Lords, if we elect one of these two great men, the other will be so filled with envy that he will take away with him all his people. And then the land that we have won may be lost, just as the land of Jerusalem came nigh to be lost when, after it had been conquered, Godfrey of Bouillon was elected king, and the Count of St. Giles became so fulfilled with envy that he enticed the other barons, and whomsoever he could, to abandon the host. Then did many people depart, and there remained so few that, if God had not sustained them, the land of Jerusalem wouldhavebeenlost. Letusthereforebewarelestthesame mischance befall us also, and rather bethink ourselves how we may keep both these lords in the host. Let the one on whom God shall bestow the empire so devise that the other is well content; let him grant to that other all the land on the further side of the straits, towards Turkey, and the Isle of Greece, and that other shall be his liegeman. Thus shall we keep both lords in the host." As had been proposed, so was it settled, and both consented right willingly. Then came the day for the parliament, and the parliament assembled. And the twelve electors were chosen, six on one side and six on the other; and they swore on holy relics to elect, duly, and in good faith, whomsoever would best meet the needs of the host, and bear rule over the empire most worthily. 68 Thus were the twelve chosen, and a day appointed for the election of the emperor; and on the appointed day the twelve electors met at a rich palace, one of the fairest in the world, where the Doge of Venice had his quarters. Great and marvellous was the concourse, for every one wished to see who should be elected. Then were the twelve electors called, and set in a very rich chapel within the palace, and the door was shut, so that no one remained with them. The barons and knights stayed without in a great palace. The council lasted till they were agreed; and by consent' of all they appointed Nevelon, Bishop of Soissons, who was one of the twelve, to act as spokesman. Then they came out to the place where all the barons were assembled, and the Doge of Venice. Now you must know that many set eyes upon them, to know how the election had turned. And the bishop, lifting up his voice-while all listened intentlyspoke as he had been charged, and said: " Lords, we are agreed, let God be thanked! upon the choice of an emperor; and you have all sworn that he whom we shall elect as ern,,)eror shall be held by you to be emperor indeed, and that it any one gainsay him, you will be his helpers. And we name him now at the self-same hour when God was born, THE COUNT BALDWIN OF FLANDERS AND HAINAULT! " A cry of joy was raised in the palace, and they bore the count out of the palace, and the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat bore him on one side to the church, and showed him all the honour he could. So was the Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault elected emperor, and a day appointed for his coronation, three weeks after Easter (16th May 1204). And you must know that many a rich robe was made for the coronation; nor did they want for the wherewithal. BONIFACE WEDS ISAAC'S WIDOW, AND AFTER BALDWIN'S CORONATION OBTAINS THE KINGDOM OF SALONIKA Before the time appointed for the coronation, the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat espoused the empress who had been the wife of the Emperor Isaac, and was sister to the King of Hungary. And within that time also did one of the most noble barons of the host, who bore the name of Odo of Champlitte of Champagne, make an end and die. Much was he mourned and bewept by William his brother, and by his 69 other friends; and he was buried in the church of the Apostles with great honour. The time for the coronation drew near, and the Emperor Baldwin was crowned with great joy and great honour in the church of St. Sophia, in the year of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ one thousand twelve hundred and four. Of the rejoicings and feasting there is no need to speak further, for the barons and knights did all they could; and the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat and Count Louis of Blois and Chartres did homage to the emperor as their lord. After the great rejoicings and ceremonies of the coronation, he was taken in great pomp, and with a great procession, to the rich palace of Bucoleon. And when the feastings were over he began to discuss his affairs. Boniface the Marquis of Montferrat called upon him to carry out the covenant made, and give him, as he was bound to do, the land on the other side of the straits towards Turkey and the Isle of Greece. And the emperor acknowledged that he was bound so to do, and said he would do it right willingly. And when the Marquis of Montferrat saw that the emperor was willing to carry out this covenant so debonairly, he besought him, in exchange for this land, to bestow upon him the kingdom of Salonika, because it lay near the land of the King of Hungary, whose sister he had taken to wife. Much was this matter debated in various ways; but in the end the emperor granted the land of Salonika to the marquis, and the marquis did homage therefor. And at this there was much joy thr oughout , the host, because the marquis was one of the knights most highly prized in all the world, and one whom the knights most loved, inasmuch as no one dealt with them more liberally than he. Thus the marquis remained in the land, as you have heard. BALDWIN MARCHES AGAINST MOURZUPHLES The Emperor Mourzuphles had not yet removed more than four days' journey from Constantinople; and he had taken with him the empress who had been the wife of the Emperor Alexius, who aforetime had fled, and his daughter. This Emperor Alexius was in a city called Messinopolis, with all his people, and still held a great part of the land. And at that 70 time the men of note in Greece departed, and a large number passed over the straits towards Turkey; and each one, for his own advantage, made himself master of such lands as he could lay hands upon; and the same thing happened also throughout the other parts of the empire. The Emperor Mourzuphles made no long tarrying before he took a city which had surrendered to my lord the Emperor Baldwin, a city called Tchorlu. So he took it and sacked it, and seized whatever he found there. When the news thereof came to the Emperor Baldwin, he took counsel with the barons, and with the Doge of Venice, and they agreed to this, that he should issue forth, with all his host, to make conquest of the land, and leave a garrison in Constantinople to keep it sure, seeing that the city had been newly taken and was peopled with the Greeks. So did they decide, and the host was called together, and decision made as to who should remain in Constantinople, and who should go in the host with the Emperor Baldwin. In Constantinople remained Count Louis of Blois and Chartres, who had been sick, and was not yet recovered, and the Doge of Venice. And Conon of Béthune remained in the palaces of Blachemoe and Bucoleon to keep the city; and with him Geoffry the Marshal of Champagne, and Miles the Brabant of Provins, and Manasses of l'Isle, and all their people. All the rest made ready to go in the host with the emperor. Before the Emperor Baldwin left Constantinople, his brother Henry departed thence, by his command, with a hundred very good knights; and he rode from city to city, and in every city to which he came the people swore fealty to the emperor. So he fared forward till he came to Adrianople, which was a good city, and wealthy; and those of the city received him right willingly and swore fealty to the emperor. Then he lodged in the city, he and his people, and sojoumed there till the Emperor Baldwin came thither. MOURZUPHLES TAKES REFUGE WITH ALEXIUS, THE BROTHER OF ISAAC, WHO PUTS OUT HIS EYES The Emperor Mourzuphles, when he heard that they thus advanced against him, did not dare to abide their coming, but remained always two or three days' march in advance. 71 So he fared forward till he came near Messinopolis, where the Emperor Alexius was sojourning, and he sent on messengers, telling Alexius that he would give him help, and do all his behests. And the Emperor Alexius answered that he should be as welcome as if he were his own son, and that he would give him his daughter to wife, and make of him his son. So the Emperor Mourzuphles encamped before Messinopolis, and pitched his tents and pavilions, and Alexius was quartere within the city. So they conferred together, and Alexius gave him his daughter to wife, and they entered into alliance, and said they should be as one. They sojourned thus for I know not how many days, the one in the camp and the other in the city, and then did the Emperor Alexius invite the Emperor MourzupWes to come and eat with him, and to go with him to the baths. So were matters settled. The Emperor Mourzuphles came privately, and with few people, and when he was within the house, the Emperor Alexius called him into a privy chamber, and had him thrown on to the ground, and the eyes drawn out of his head. And this was done in such treacherous wise as you have heard. Now say whether this people, who wrought such cruelty one to another, were fit to have lands in possession I And when the host of the Emperor Mourzuphles heard what had been done, they scattered, and fled this way and that; and some joined themselves to the Emperor Alexius, and obeyed him as their lord, and remained with him. BALDWIN MARCHES AGAINST ALEXIUS-HE IS JOINED BY BONIFACE Then the Emperor Baldwin moved from Constantinople, with all his host, and rode forward till he came to Adrianople. There he found Henry his brother, and the men with him. All the people whithersoever the emperor passed, came to him, and put themselves at his mercy and under his rule. And while they were at Adrianople, they heard the news that the Emperor Alexius had pulled out the eyes of the Emperor Mourzuphles. Of this there was much talk among them; and well did all say that those who betrayed one another so disloyally and treacherously had no right to hold land in possession. Then was the Emperor Baldwin minded to ride straight to 72 Messinopolis, where the Emperor Alexius was. And the Greeks of Adrianople besought him, as their lord, to leave a garrison in their city because of Johannizza, King of Wallachia and Bulgaria, who ofttimes made war upon them. And the' Emperor Baldwin left there Eustace of Saubruic, who was a knight of Flanders, very worthy and very valiant, together with forty right good knights, and a hundred mounted sergeants. So departed the Emperor Baldwin from Adrianople, and rode towards Messinopolis, where he thought to find the Emperor Alexius. All the people of the lands through which he passed put themselves under his rule and at his mercyand when the Emperor Alexius saw this, he avoided Messl-' nopolis and fled. And the Emperor Baldwin rode on till he came before Messinopolis; and those of the city went out to meet him and surrendered the city to his commandment. Then the Emperor Baldwin said he would sojourn there, wafting for the arrival of Boniface, Marquis of Montferrat, who had not yet joined the host, seeing he could not move as fast as the emperor, because he was bringing with him the empress, his wife. However, he also rode forward till he came to Messinopolis, by the river, and there encamped, and pitched his tents and pavilions. And on the morrow he went to speak to the Emperor Baldwin, and to see him, and reminded him of his promise. "Sire," said he, "tidings have come to me from Salonika that the people of the land would have me know that they are ready to receive me willingly as their lord. And I am your liegeman, and hold the land from you. Therefore, I pray you, let me go thither; and when I am in possession of my land and of my city, I will bring you out such supplies as you may need, and come ready prepared to do your behests. But do not go and ruin my land. Let us rather, if it so pleases you, march against Johannizz', the King of Wallachia and Bulgaria, who holds a great part of the land wrongfully." RUPTURE BETWEEN BALDWIN AND B0NIFACE - THE ONE MARCHES ON SALONIKA, THE OTHER ON DEMOTICA I know not by whose counsel it was that the emperor replied that he was determined to march towards Salonika, 73 and would afterwards attend to his other affairs. Sire," said Boniface, Marquis of Montferrat, " I pray thee, since I am able without thee to get possession of my land, that thou wilt not enter therein; but if thou dost enter therein, I shall deem that thou art not acting for my good. And be it known to thee that I shall not go with thee, but depart from among you." And the Emperor Baldwin replied that, notwithstanding all this, he should most certainly go. Alas! how ill-advised were they, both the one and the other, and how great was the sin of those who caused this quarrel! For if God had not taken pity upon them, now would they have lost all the conquests they had made, and Christendom been in danger of ruin. So by ill fortune was there division between the Emperor Baldwin of Constantinople and Boniface, Marquis of Montferrat,-and by illadvice. . The Emperor Bal dwin rode towards Salonika, as he devised, with all his people, and with all his power. And Boniface, the Marquis of Montferrat, went back, and he took with him a great number of right worthy people. With him went James of Avesnes, William of Champlitte, Hugh of Colemi, Count Berthold of Katzenellenbogen, and the greater part of those who came from the Empire of Germany and held with the marquis. Thus did the marquis ride back till he came to a castle, very goodly, very strong, and very rich, which is called Demotica; and it was surrendered by a Greek of the city, and when the marquis had entered therein he garrisoned it. Then because of their knowledge of the empress (his wife), the Greeks began to turn towards him, and to surrender to his rule from all the country round about, within a day or two's journey. The Emperor Baldwin rode straight on to Salonika, and came to a castle called Christopolis, one of the strongest in the world. And it surrendered, and those of the city did homage to him. Afterwards he came to another place called Blache, which was very strong and very rich, and this too surrendered, and the people did homage. Next he came to Cetros, a city strong and rich, and it also came to his rule and order, and did homage. Then he rode to Salonika, and encamped before the city, and was there for three days. And those within surrendered the city, which was one of the best and wealthiest in Christendom at that day, on condition that 74 he would maintain the uses and customs theretofore observed by the Greek emperor. MESSAGE OF THE CRUSADERS TO BONIFACE - HE SUSPENDS THE SIEGE OF ADRIANOPLE While the Emperor Baldwin was thus at Salonika, and the land surrendering to his good pleasure and commandment, the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat, with all his people and a great quantity of Greeks who held to his side, marched to Adrianople and besieged it, and pitched his tents and pavilions round about. Now Eustace of Saubruic was therein, with the people whom the emperor had left there, and they mounted the walls and towers and made ready to defend themselves. Then took Eustace of Saubruic two messengers and sent them, riding night and day, to Constantinople. And they came to the Doge of Venice, and to Count Louis, and to those who had been left in the city by the Emperor Baldwin, and told them that Eustace of Saubruic would have them know that the emperor and the marquis were embroiled together, and that the marquis had seized Demotica, which was one of the strongest castles in Roumania, and one of the richest, and that he was besieging them in Adrianople. And when those in Constantinople heard this they were moved with anger, for they thought most surely that all their conquests would be lost. Then assembled in the palace of Blachernae the Doge of Venice, and Count Louis of Blois and Chartres, and the other barons that were in Constantinople; and much were they distraught, and greatly were they angered, and fiercely did they complain of those who had put enmity between the emperor and the marquis. At the prayer of the Doge of Venice and of Count Louis, Geoffry of Villehardouin, the Marshal of Champagne, was enjoined to go to the siege of Adrianople, and appease the war, if he could, because he was well in favour with the marquis, and therefore they thought he would have more influence than any other. And he, because of their prayers, and of their great need, said he would go willingly; and he took with him Manasses of l'Isle, who was one of the good knights of the host, and one of the most honoured. 75 So they departed from Constantinople, and rode day by day till they came to Adrianople, where the siege was going on. And when the marquis heard thereof, he came out of the camp and went to meet them. With him came James of Avesnes, and William of Champlitte, and Hugh of Colemi, and Otho of la Roche, who were the chief counsellors of the marquis. And when he saw the envoys, he did them much honour and showed them much fair seeming. Geoffry the Marshal, with whom he was on very good terms, spoke to him very sharply, reproaching him with the fashion in which he had taken the land of the emperor and besieged the emperor's people in Adrianople, and that without apprising those in Constantinople, who surely would have obtained such redress as was due if the emperor had done him any wrong. And the marquis disculpated himself much, and said it was because of the wrong the emperor had done him that he had acted in such sort. So wrought Geoffry, the Marshal of Champagne, with the help of God, and of the barons who were in the confidence of the marquis, and who loved the said Geoffry well, that the marquis assured him he would leave the matter in the hands of the Doge of Venice, and of Count Louis of Blois and Chartres, and of Conon of Béthune, and of Geoffry of Villehardouin, the Marshal-all of whom well knew what was the covenant made between himself and the emperor. So was a truce established between those in the camp and those in the city. And you must know that Geoffry the Marshal, and Manasses of l'Isle, were right joyously looked upon, both by those in the camp and those in the city, for very strongly did either side wish for peace. And in such measure as the Franks rejoiced, so were the Greeks dolent, because right willingly would they have seen the Franks quarrelling and at war. Thus was the siege of Adrianople raised, and the marquis returned with all his people to Demotica, where was the empress his wife. MESSAGE OF THE CRUSADERS TO BALDWIN - DEATH OF SEVERAL KNIGHTS The envoys returned to Constantinople, and told what they had done. Greatly did the Doge of Venice, and Count Louis 76 of Blois, and all besides, then rejoice that to these envoys had been committed the negotiations for a peace; and they chose good messengers, and wrote a letter, and sent it to the Emperor Baldwin, tellin- him that the marquis had referred himself to them, with assurances that he would accept their arbitration, and that he (the emperor) was even more strongly bound to do the same, and that they besought him to do so-for they would in no wise countenance war-and promise to accept their arbitration, as the marquis had done. While this was in progress the Emperor Baldwin had settled matters at Salonika and departed thence, garrisoning it with his people, and had left there as chief Renier of Mons, who was a good knight and a valiant. And tidings had come to him that the marquis had taken Demotica, and established himself therein, an(f conquered a great part of the land lying round about, and besieged the emperor's people in Adrianople. Greatly enraged was the Emperor Baldwin when these tidings came to him, and much did he hasten so as to raise the siege of Adrianople, and do to the marquis all the -harm that he could. Ah God! what mischief their discord might have caused! If God had not seen to it, Christendom would have been undone. So did the Emperor Baldwin journey day by day. And a very great mischance had befallen those who were before Salonika, for many people of the host were stricken down with sickness. Many who could not be moved had to remain in the castles by which the emperor passed, and many were brought along in litters, journeying in sore pain; and many there were who died at Cetros (La Serre). Among those who so died at Cetros was Master ' John of Noyon, chancellor to the Emperor Baldwin. He was a good clerk, and very wise, and much had he comforted the host by the word of God, which he well knew how to preach. And you must know that by his death the good men of the host were much discomforted. Nor was it long ere another great misfortune befell the host, for Peter of Amiens died, who was a man rich and noble, and a good and brave knight, and great dole was made for him by Hugh of St. Paul, who was his cousin-german; and heavily did his death weigh upon the host. Shortly after died Gerard of Mancicourt, who was a knight much 77 prized, and Giles of Annoy, and many other good people. Forty knights died during this expedition, and by their death was the host greatly enfeebled. BALDWIN'S REPLY TO THE MESSAGE OF THE CRUSADERS The Emperor Baldwin journeyed so day by day that he met the messengers sent by those of Constantinople. One of the messengers was a knight belonging to the land of Count Louis of Blois, and the count's liegeman; his name was Bègue of Fransures, and he was wise and eloquent. He spoke the message of his lord and the other barons right manfully, and said: " Sire, the Doge of Venice, and Count Louis, my lord, and the other barons who are in Constantinople send you health and greeting as to their lord, and they complain to God and to you of those who have raised discord between you and the Marquis of Montferrat, whereby it failed but little that Christendom was not undone; and they tell you that you did very ill when you listened to such counsellors. Now they apprise you that the marquis has referred to them the quarrel that there is between him and you, and they pray you, as their lord, to refer that quarrel to them likewise, and to promise to abide by their ruling. And be it known to you that they will in no wise, nor on any ground, suffer that you should go to war." The Emperor Baldwin went to confer with his council, and said he would reply anon. Many there were in the emperor's council who had helped to cause the quarrel, and they were greatly outraged by the declaration sent by those at Constantinople, and they said: " Sire, you hear what they declare to you, that they will not suffer you to take vengeance of your enemy. Truly it seems that if you will not do as they order, they will set themselves against you." Very many big words were then spoken; but, in the end, the council agreed that the emperor had no wish to lose the friendship of the Doge of Venice, and Count Louis, and the others who were in Constantinople; and the emperor replied to the envoys: " I will not promise to refer the quarrel to those who sent you, but I will go to Constantinople without doing aught to injure the marquis." So the Emperor Baldwin journeyed day by day till he came to Constantinople, and 78 the barons, and the other people, went to meet him, and received him as their lord with great honour. RECONCILIATION OF BALDWIN AND BONIFACE On the fourth day the emperor knew clearly that he had been ill-advised to quarrel with the marquis, and then the Doge of Venice and Count Louis came to speak to him and said: "Sire, we would pray you to refer this matter to us, as the marquis has done." And the emperor said he would do so right willingly. Then were envoys chosen to fetch the marquis, and bring him thither. Of them envoys one was Gervais of Chatel, and the second Renier of Trit, and Geoffry, Marshal of Champagne the third, and the Doge of Venice sent two of his people. The envoys rode day by day till they came to Demotica, and they found the marquis with the empress his wife, and a great number of right worthy people, and they told him how they had come to fetch him. Then did Geoffry the Marshal desire him to come to Constantinople, as he had promised, and make peace in such wise as might be settled by those in whose hands he had remitted his cause; and they promised him safe conduct, as also to those who might go with him. The marquis took counsel with his men. Some there were who agreed that he should go, and some who advised that he should not go. But the end of the debate was such that he went with the envoys to Constantinople, and took full a hundred knights with him; and they rode day by day till they came to Constantinople. Very gladly were they received in the city; and Count Louis of Blois and Chartres, and the Doge of Venice went out to meet the marquis, together with many other right worthy people, for he was much loved in the host. Then was a parliament assembled, and the covenants were rehearsed between the Emperor Baldwin and the Marquis Boniface; and Salonika was restored to Boniface, with the land, he placing Demotica, which he had seized, in the hands of Geoffry the Marshal of Champagne, who undertook to keep it till he heard, by accredited messenger, or letters duly sealed, that the marquis was seized of Salonika, when he would give back Demotica to the emperor, or to whomsoever the emperor might appoint. Thus was peace made between the emperor and the marquis, as you have heard. And great was the joy 79 thereof throughout the host, for out of this quarrel might very great evil have arisen. THE KINGDOM OF SALONIKA IS RESTORED TO BONIFACE - DIVISION OF THE LAND BETWEEN THE CRUSADERS The marquis then took leave, and went towards Salonika with his people, and with his wife; and with him rode the envoys of the emperor; and as they went from castle to castle, each, with all its lordship, was restored to the marquis on the part of the emperor. So they came to Salonika, and those who held the place for the emperor surrendered it. Now the governor, whom the emperor had left there, and whose name was Renier of Mons, had died; he was a man most worthy, and his death a great mischance. Then the land and country began to surrender to the marquis, and a great part thereof to come under his rule. But a Greek, a man of great rank, whose name was Leon Sgure, would in no wise come under the rule of the marquis, for he had seized Corinth and Napoli, two cities that lie upon the sea, and are among the strongest cities under heaven. He then refused to surrender, but began to make war against the marquis, and a very great many of the Greeks held with him. And another Greek, whose name was Michael, and who had come with the marquis from Constantinople, and was thought by the marquis to be his friend, he departed, without any word said, and went to a city called Arthe (? Durazzo) and took to wife the daughter of a rich Greek, who held the land from the emperor, and seized the land, and began to make war on the marquis. Now the land from Constantinople to Salonika was quiet and at peace, for the ways were so safe that all could come and go at their pleasure, and from the one city to the other there were full twelve long days' journey. And so much time had now passed that we were at the beginning of September (1204). And the Emperor Baldwin was in Constantinople, and the land at peace, and under his rule. Then died two right good knights in Constantinople, Eustace of Canteleu, and Aimery of Villeroi, whereof their friends had great sorrow. Then did they begin to divide the land. The Venetians had their part,and the pilgrims the other. And when each 80 one was able to go to his own land, the covetousness of this world, which has worked so great evil, suffered them not to be at peace, for each began to deal wickedly in his land, some more, and some less, and the Greeks began to hate them and to nourish a bitter heart. Then did the Emperor Baldwin bestow on Count Louis the duchy of Nice, which was one of the greatest lordships in the land of Roumania, and situate on the other side of the straits, towards Turkey. Now all the land on the other side of the straits had not surrendered to the emperor, but was against him. Then afterwards he gave the duchy of Philippopolis to Renier of Trit. So Count Louis sent his men to conquer his land-some h.undred and twenty knights. And over them were set Peter of Bracieux and Payen of Orleans. They left Constantinople on All Saints Day (1st November 1204), and passed over the Straits of St. George on ship-board, and came to Piga, a city that lies on the sea, and is inhabited by Latins. And they began to war against the Greeks. EXECUTION OF MOURZUPHLES AND IMPRISONMENT OF ALEXIUS In those days it happened that the Emperor Mourzuphles, whose eyes had been put out-the same who had murdered his lord, the Emperor Isaac's son, the Emperor Alexius, whom the pilgrims had brought with them to that land-it happened, I say, that the Emperor Mourzuphles fled privily, and with but few people, and took refuge beyond the straits. But Thierri of Loos heard of it, for Mourzuphles' flight was revealed to him, and he took Mourzuphles and brought him to the Emperor Baldwin at Constantinople,. And the Emperor Baldwin rejoiced thereat, and took counsel with his men what he should do with a man who had been guilty of such a murder upon his lord. And the council agreed to this: There was in Constantinople, towards the middle of the city, a column, one of the highest and the most finely wrought in marble that eye had ever seen; and Mourzuphles should be taken to the top of that column and made to leap down, in the sight of all the people, because it was fit that an act of justice so notable should be seen of the whole world. So they led the Emperor 81 Mourzuphles to the column, and took him to the top, and all the people in the city ran together to behold the event. Then they cast him down, and he fell from such a height that when he came to the earth he was all shattered and broken. Now hear of a great marvel! On that column from which he fell were images of divers kinds, wrought in the marble. And among these images was one, worked in the shape of an emperor, falling headlong; for of a long time it had been prophesied that from that column an emperor of Constantinople should be cast down. So did the semblance and the prophecy come true. It came to pass, at this time also, that the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat, who was near Salonika, took prisoner the Emperor Alexius-the same who had put out the eyes of the Emperor Isaac-and the empress his wife with him. And he sent the scarlet buskins, and the imperial vestments, to the Emperor Baldwin, his lord, at Constantinople, and the emperor took the act in very good part. Shortly after the marquis sent the Emperor Alexius and the empress his wife, to Montferrat, there to be imprisoned. CAPTURE OF ABYDOS, OF PHILIPPOPOLIS, AND OF NICOMEDIA - THEODORE LASCARIS PRETENDS TO THE EMPIRE At the feast of St. Martin after this (11th November 1204), Henry, the brother of the Emperor Baldwin, went forth from Constantinople, and marched down by the straits to the mouth of Abydos; and he took with him some hundred and twenty good knights. He crossed the straits near a city which is called Abydos, and found it well furnished with good things, with corn and meats, and with all things of which man has need. So he seized the city, and lodged therein, and then began to war with the Greeks who were before him. And the Armenians of the land, of whom there were many, began to turn towards him, for they greatly hated the Greeks. At that time Renier of Trit left Constantinople, and went towards Philippopolis, which the emperor had given him; and he took with him some hundred and twenty very good knights, and rode day by day till he passed beyond Adrianople, and came to Philippopolis. And the people of the land received him, and obeyed him as their lord, for they beheld his coming very willingly. And they stood in great 82 need of succour, for Johannizza, the King of Wallachia, had mightily oppressed them with war. So Renier helped them right well, and held a great part of the land, and most of those who had sided with Johannizza, now turned to him. In those parts the war with Johannizza raged fiercely. Tle emperor had sent some hundred knights over the straits of Saint George opposite Constantinople. Macaire of SainteMen,ehould was in command, and with him went Matthew of Wallincourt, and Robert of Ronsoi. They rode to a city called Nicomedia, which lies on a gulf of the sea, and is well two days' journey from Constantinople. When the Greeks saw them coming, they avoided the city, and went away; so the pilgrims lodged therein, and garrisoned it, and enclosed it with walls, and began to wage war before them, on that side also. The land on the other side of the straits had for lord a Greek named Theodore Lascaris. He had for wife the daughter of the Emperor Alexius, through whom he laid claim to the land - this was the Alexius whom the Franks had driven from Constantinople, and who had put out his brother's eyes. The same Lascaris maintained the war against the Franks on the other side of the straits, in whatsoever part they might be. In Constantinople remained the Emperor Baldwin and Count Louis, with but few people, and the Count of St. Paul, who was grievously sick with gout, that held him by the knees and feet; and the Doge of Venice, who saw naught. REINFORCEMENTS FROM SYRIA - DEATH OF MARY, THE WIFE OF BALDWIN After this time came from the land of Syria a great company of those who had abandoned the host, and gone thither from other ports than Venice. With this company came Stephen of Perche, and Renaud of Montmirail, who was cousin to Count Louis, and they were by him much honoured, for he was very glad of their coming. And the Emperor Baldwin, and the rest of the people also received them very gladly, for they were of high rank, and very rich, and brouaht very many good people with them. From the land of Syria came Hugh of Tabarie, and Raoul his brother, and Thierri of Tenremonde, and very many people of the land, knights and light horsemen, and sergeants. 83 And the Emperor Baldwin gave to Stephen of Perche the duchy of Philadelphia. Among other tidings came news at this time to the Emperor Baldwin whereby he was made very sorrowful; for the Countess Mary [She was the daughter of Henry Count of Champagne and of Mary, daughter of Philip Augustus, King of France] his wife, whom he had left in Flanders, seeIng she could not go with him because she was with childhe was then but count-had brought forth a daughter-and afterwards, on her recovery, she started to go to her lord overseass and passed to the port of Marseilles, and coming to Acre, she had but just landed, when the tidings came to her from Constantinople-told by the messengers whom her lord had sent-that Constantinople was taken, and her lord made emperor, to the great joy of all Christendom. On hearing this the lady was minded to come to him forthwith. Then a sickness took her, and she made an end and died, whereof there was great dole throughout all Christendom, for she was a gracious and virtuous lady and greatly honoured. And those who came in this company brought the tidings of her death, whereof the Emperor Baldwin had sore affliction, as also the barons of the land, for much did they desire to have her for their lady. DEFEAT OF THEODORE AND CONSTANTINE LASCARIS At that time those who had gone to the city of Piga - Peter of Bracieux and Payen of Orléans being the chiefs - fortified a castle called Palormo; and they left therein a garrison of their people, and rode forward to conquer the land. Theodore Lascaris had collected all the people he could, and on the day of the feast,of our Lord St. Nicholas (6th December 1204), which is before the Nativity, he joined battle in the plain before a castle called Poemaninon. The battle was engaged with great disadvantage to our people, for those of the other part were in such numbers as was marvellous; and on our side there were but one hundred and forty knights, without counting the mounted sergeants. But our Lord orders battles as it pleases Him. By His grace and by His will, the Franks vanquished the Greeks and discomfited them, so that they suff ered very great loss. And within the week, they surrendered a very large part of the land. They surrendered Poemaninon, which was a very 84 strong castle, and Lopadium, which was one of the best cities of the land, and Polychna, which is seated on a lake of fresh water, and is one of the strongest and best castles that can be found. And you must know that our people fared very excellently, and by God's help had their will of that land. Shortly after-, by the advice of the Armenians, Henry, the brother of the Emperor Baldwin of Constantinople, started from the city of Abydos, leaving therein a garrison of his people, and rode to a city called Adramittium, which lies on the sea, a two days' journey from Abydos. This city yielded to him, and he lodged therein, and a great part of the land surrendered; for the city was well supplied with corn and meats, and other goods. Then he maintained the war in those parts against the Greeks. Theodore Lascaris, who had been discomfited at Poemaninon, collected as many people as he could, and assembled a very great army, and gave the command thereof to Constantine, his brother, who was one of the best Greeks in Roumania, and then rode straight towards Adramittium. And Henry, the brother of the Emperor Baldwin, had knowledge, through the Armenians, that a great host was marching against him, so he made ready to meet them, and set his battalions in order; and he had with him some very good men, as Baldwin of Beauvoir, and Nicholas of Mailly, and Anseau of Cayeux, and Thierri of Loos, and Thierri of Tenremonde. So it happened that on the Saturday which is before mid Lent (19th March 1205), came Constantine Lascaris with his great host, before Adramittium. And Henry, when he knew of his coming, took counsel, and said he would not suff er himself to be shut up in the city, but would issue forth. And those of the other part came on with all their host, in great companies of horse and foot, and those on our part went out to meet them, and began the onslaught. Then was there a dour battle and fighting hand to hand; but by God's help the Franks prevailed, and discomfited their foes, so that many were killed and taken captive, and there was much booty. Then were the Franks at ease, and very rich, so that the people of the land turned to them, and began to bring in their rents. 85 BONIFACE ATTACKS LEON SGURE; HE IS JOINED BY GEOFFRY OF VILLEHARDOUIN, THE NEPHEW Now let us leave speaking further (for the nonce), of those at Constantinople, and return to the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat. The marquis had gone, as you have heard, towards Salonika, and then ridden forth against Leon Sgure, who held Napoli and Corinth, two of the strongest cities in the world. Boniface besieged both cities at once. James of Avesnes, with many other good men, remained before Corinth, and the rest encamped before Napoli, and laid siege to it. Then befell a certain adventure in the land. For Geoffry of Villehardouin, who was nephew to Geofiry of Villehardouin, Marshal of Roumania and Champagne, being his brother's son, was moved to leave Syria with the company that came to Constantinople. But wind and chance carried him to the port of Modon, and there his ship was injured, so that, of necessity, it behoved him to winter in that country. And a Greek, who was a great lord of the land, knew of it, and came to him, and did him much honour, and said: " Fair Sir, the Franks have conquered Constantinople, and elected an emperor. If thou wilt make alliance with me, I will deal with thee in all good faith, and we together Will conquer much land." So they made alliance on oath, the Greek and Geoffry of Villehardouin, and conquered together a great part of the country, and Geoffry of Villehardouin found much good faith in the Greek. But adventures happen as God wills, and sickness laid hold of the Greek, and he made an end and died. And the Greek's son rebelled against Geoffry of ViHehardouin, and betrayed him, and the castles in which Geoffry had set a garrison turned against him. Now he heard tell that the marquis was besieging Napoli, so he went towards him with as many men as he could collect, and rode through the land for some six days in very great peril, and thus came to the carnp, where he was received right willingly, and much honoured by the marquis and all who were there. And this was but right, seeing he was very honourable and valiant, and a good knight. 86 EXPLOITS OF WILLIAM OF CHAMPLITTE AND GEOFFRY OF VILLEHARDOUIN, THE NEPHEW, IN MOREA The marquis would have given him land and possessions so that he might remain with him, but he would not, and spoke to William of Champlitte, who was his friend, and said: " Sir, I come from a land that is very rich, and is called Morea. Take as many men as you can collect, and leave this host, and let us go and conquer that land by the help of God. And that which you will give me out of our conquests, I will hold from you, and I will be your liegeman." knd William of Champlitte, who greatly trusted and loved him, went to the marquis, and told him of the matter, and the marquis allowed of their going. So William of Champlitte and Geoffry of Villehardouin (the nephew) departed from the host, and took with them about a hundred knights, and a great number of mounted sergeants, and entered into the land of Morea, and rode onwards till they came to the city of Modon. Michael heard that they were in the land with so few people, and he collected together a great number of people, a number that was marvellous, and he rode after them as one thinking they were all no better than prisoners, and in his hand. And when they heard'tell that he was coming, they refortified Modon, where the defences had long since been pulled down, and there left their baggage, and the lesser folk. Then they rode out a day's march, and ordered their array with as many people as they had. But the odds seemed too great, for they had no more than five hundred men mounted, whereas on the other part there were well over five thousand. But events happen as God pleases; for our people fought with the Greeks ' and discomfited and conquered them. And the Greeks lost very heavily, while those on our side gained horses and arms enough, and other goods in very great plenty, and so returned very happy, and very joyously, to the city of Modon. Afterwards they rode to a city called Coron, on the sea, and besieged it. And they had not besieged it long before it surrendered, and William gave it to Geoffry of Villehardouin (the nephew) and he became his liegeman, and set therein a garrison of his men. Next they went to a castle called Chale- 87 mate which was very strong and fair, and besieged it. This castle troubled them for a very long space, but they remained before it till it was taken. Then did more of the Greeks of that land surrender than had done aforetiine. SIEGE OF NAPOLI AND CORINTH; ALLIANCE BETWEEN THE GREEKS AND JOHANNIZZA The Marquis of Montferrat besieged Napoli, but he could there do nothing, for the place was too strong, and his men suffered greatly. James of Avesnes, meanwhile, continued to besiege Corinth, where he had been left by the marquis. Leon Sgure, who was in Corinth, and very wise and wily, saw that James had not many people with him, and did not keep good watch. So one morning, at the break of day, he issued from the city in force, and got as far as the tents, and killed many before they could get to their armour. . There was killed Dreux of Estruen, who was very honourable and valiant, and greatly was he lamented. And James of Avesnes, who was in command, waxed very wroth at the death of his knight, and did not leave the fray till he was wounded in the leg right grievously. And well did those who were present bear witness that it was to his doughtiness that they owed their safety; for you must know that they came very near to being all lost. But by God's help they drove the Greeks back into the castle by force. Now the Greeks, who were very disloyal, still nourished treachery in their hearts. They perceived at that time that the Franks were so scattered over the land that each had his own matters to attend to. So they thought they could the more easily betray them. They took envoys therefore privily, from all the cities in the land, and sent them to Johannizza, the King of Wallachia and Bulgaria, who was still at war with them as he had been aforetime. And they told Johannizza they would make him emperor, and give themselves wholly to him, and slay all the Franks. So they swore that they would obey him as their lord, and he swore that he would defend them as though they were his own people. Such was the oath sworn. 88 UPRISING OF THE GREEKS AT DEMOTICA AND ADRIANOPLE; THEIR DEFEAT AT ARCADIOPOLIS At that time there happened a great misfortune at Constantinople, for Count Hugh of St. Paul, who had long been in bed, sick of the gout, made an end and died; and this caused great sorrow, and was a great mishap, and much was he bewept by his men and by his friends. He was buried with great honour in the church of our Lord St. George of Mangana. Now Count Hugh in his lifetime had held a castle called Demotica, which was very strong and rich, and he had therein some of his knights and sergeants. The Greeks, who had made oath to the King of Wallachia that they would kill and betray the Franks, betrayed them in that castle, and slaughtered many and took many captive. Few escaped, and those who escaped went flying to a city called Adrianople, which the Venetians held at that time. Not long after the Greeks in Adrianople rose in arms; and such of our men as were therein, and had been set to guard it, came out in great peril, and left the city. Tidings thereof came to the Emperor Baldwin of Constantinople, who had but few men with him, he and Count Louis of Blois. Much were they then troubled and dismayed. And thenceforth, from day to day, did evil tidings begin to come to them, that everywhere the Greeks were rising, and that wherever the Greeks found Franks occupying the land, they killed them. And those who had left Adrianople, the Venetians and the others who were there, came to a city called Tzurulum, that belonged to the Emperor Baldwin. There they found William of Blanvel, who kept the place for the emperor. By the help and comfort that he gave them, and because he accompanied them with as many men as he could, they turned back to a city, some twelve lea-ues distant, called Arcadiopolis, which belonged to the Venetians, and they found it empty. So they entered in, and put a garrison there. On the third day the Greeks of the land gathered together, and came at the break of dawn before Arcadiopohs; and then began, from all sides, an assault, great and marvellous. The Franks defended themselves right well, and opened their 89 gates, and issued forth, attacking vigorously. As was God's will, the Greeks were discomfited, and those on our side began to cut them down and to slay them, and then chased them for a league, and killed many, and captured many horses and much other spoil. So the Franks returned with great joy to Arcadiopolis, and sent tidings of their victory to the Emperor Baldwin, in Constantinople, who was much rejoiced tliereat. Nevertheless they dared not hold the city of Arcadiopolis, but left it on the morrow, and abandoned it, and returned to the city of Tzurulum. Here they remained in very great doubt, for they misdoubted the Greeks who were in the city as much as those who were without, because the Greeks in the city had also taken part in the oath sworn to the King of Wallachia, and were bound to betray the Franks. And manv there were who did not dare to abide in Tzurulum, but made their way back to Constantinople. THE CRUSADERS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STRAITS ARE RECALLED TO MARCH ON ADRIANOPLE - EXPEDITION OF GEOFFRY OF VILLEHARDOUIN Then the Emperor Baldwin and the Doge of Venice, and Count Louis took counsel together, for they saw they were losing the whole land. And they settled that the emperor should tell his brother Henry, who was at Adramittium, to abandon whatsoever conquests he had made, and come to their succour. Count Louis, on his side, sent to Payen of Orléans and Peter of Bracieux, who were at Lopadium, and to all the people that were with them, telling them to leave whatsoever conquests they had made, save Pioa only, that lay on the sea, where they were to set a garrison - the smallest they could - and that the remainder were to come to their succour. The emperor directed Macaire of Sainte-Menchould, and Matthew of Wallincourt, and Robert of Ronsoi, who had some hundred knights with them in Nicomedia, to leave Nicomedia and come to their succour. By command of the Emperor Baldwin, Geoffry of Villehardouin, Marshal of Champagne and of Roumania, issued from Constantinople, with Manasses of l'Isle, and Nvith as many men as they could corect, and these were few enough, seeing 90 that all the land was being lost. And they rode to the city of Tzurulum, which is distant a three days' journey. There they found William of Blanvel, and those that were with him, in very great fear, and much were these reassured at their coming. At that place they remained four days. The Emperor Baldwin sent after Geoffry the Marshal as many as he could, of such people as were coming into Constantinople, so that on the fourth day there were at Tzurulum eighty knights. Then did Geoffry the Marshal move forward, and Manasses of l'Isle, and their people, and they rode on, and came to the city of Arcadiopolis, and quartered themselves therein. There they remained a day, and then moved to a city called Bulgaropolis. The Greeks had avoided this city and the Franks quartered themselves therein. The following day they rode to a city called Neguise, which was very fair and strong, and well furnished with all good things. And they found that the Greeks had abandoned it, and were all gone to Adrianople. Now Adrianople was distant nine French leagues, and therein were gathered all the great multitude of the Greeks. And the Franks decided that they should wait where they were till the coming of the Emperor Baldwin. RENIER OF TRIT ABANDONED AT PHILIPPOPOLIS BY HIS SON AND THE GREATER PART OF HIS PEOPLE Now does this book relate a great marvel: for Renier of Trit, who was at Philippopolis, a good nine days' journey from Constantinople, with at least one hundred and twenty knights, was deserted by Reginald his son, and Giles his brother, and James of Bondies, who was his nephew, and Achard of Verdun, who had his daughter to wife. And they had taken some thirty of his knights, and thought to come to Constantinople; and they had left him, you must know, in great peril. But they found the country raised against them, and were discomfited; and the Greeks took them, and afterwards handed them over to the King of Wallachia, who had their heads cut off. And you must know that they were but little pitied by the people, because they had behaved in such evil sort to one whom they were bound to treat quite otherwise. And when the other knights of Renier de Trit saw that he 91 was thus abandoned by those who were much more bound to him than themselves, they felt the less shame, and some eighty together left him, and departed by another way. So Renier of Trit remained among the Greeks with very few men, for he had not more than fifteen knights at Philippopolis and Stanimac-which is a very strong castle which he held, and where he was for a long time besieged. BALDWIN UNDERTAKES THE SIEGE OF ADRIANOPLE We will speak no further now of Renier of Trit but return to the Emperor Baldwin, who is in Constantinople, with but very few people, and greatly angered and much distracted. He was waiting for Henry his brother, and all the people on the other side of the straits, and the first who came to him from the other side of the straits came from Nicomedia, viz.: Macaire of Sainte-Menehould, and Matthew of Wallincourt, and Robert of Ronsoi, and with them full a hundred knights. When the emperor saw them, he was right glad, and he consulted with Count Louis, who was Count of Blois and Chartres. And they settled to go forth, with as many men as they had, to follow Geoffry the Marshal of Champagne, who had gone before. Alas 1 what a pity it was they did not wait till all had joined them who were on the other side of the straits, seeing how few people they had, and how perilous the adventure on which they were bound. So they started from Constantinople, some one hundred and forty knights, and rode from day to day till they came to the castle of Neguise, where Geoffry the Marshal was quartered. That night they took counsel together, and the decision to which they came was, that on the morrow they should go before Adrianople, and lay siege to it. So they ordered their battalions, and did for the best with such people as they had. When the morning came, and full daylight, they rode as had been arranged, and came before Adrianople. And they found it very well defended, and saw the flags of Johannizza, King of Wallachia and Bulgaria, on the walls and towers; and the city was very strong and very rich, and very full of people. Then they made an assault, with very few people, before two of the gates, and this was on the Tuesday of 92 Palmtide (29th March I205). So did they remain before the city for three days, in great discomfort, and but few in number. THE SIEGE OF ADRIANOPLE CONTINUED WITHOUT RESULT Then came Henry Dandolo, the Doge of Venice, who was' an old man and saw naught. And he brought with him as many people as he had, and these were quite as many as the Emperor Baldwin and Count Louis had brought, and he encamped before one of the gates. On the morrow they were joined by a troop of mounted sergeants, but these might well have been better men than they proved themselves to be. And the host [note: meaning here a little obscure. I think, however, the intention of the origin'd is to state that the host, and not only the sergeants, lacked supplies] had small store of provisions, because the merchants could not come with them; nor could they go foraginc, because of the many Greeks that were spread throughout the land. Johannizza, King of Wallachia, was coming to succour Adrianople with a very great host; for he brought with him Wallachians and Bulgarians, and full fourteen thousand Comans who had never been baptised. Now because of the dearth of provisions, Count Louis of Blois and Chartres went foraging on Palm Sunday. With him went Stephen of Perche, brother of Count Geoffry of Perche, and Renaud of Montmirail, who was brother of Count Hervée of Nevers, and Gervais of Châtel, and more than half of the host. They went to a castle called Peutace, and found it well garrisoned with Greeks, and assailed it with great force and fury; but they were able to achieve nothing, and so retreated without taking anv spoils. Thus they remained during the week of the two'Easters (Palm Sunday to Easter Day), and fashioned engines of divers sorts, and set such miners as they had to work underground and so undermine the wall. And thus did they celebrate Easter (10th April) before Adrianople, being but few in number and scant of provisions. 93 JOHANNIZZA, KING OF WALLACHIA, COMES TO RELIEVE ADRIANOPLE Then came tidings that Johannizza, King of Wallachia, was coming upon them to relieve the city. So they set their affairs in order, and it was arranged that Geoffry the Marshal, and Manasses of l'Isle should guard the camp, and that the Emperor Baldwin and all the remainder of the host should issue from the camp if so be that johanizza came and offered battle. Thus they remained till the Wednesday of Easter week, and Johannizza had by that time approached so near that he encamped at about five leagues from us. And he sent his Comans running before our camp, and a cry was raised throughout the camp, and our men issued therefrom helterskelter, and pursued the Comans for a full league very foolishly; for when they wished to return, the Comans began to shoot at them in grievous wise, and wounded a good many of their horses. So our men returned to the camp, and the barons were summoned to the quarters of the Emperor Baldwin. And they took counsel, and all said that they had dealt foolishly in thus pursuing people who were so lightly armed. And in the end they settled that if Johannizza came on again, they would issue forth, and set themselves in array of battle before the camp, and there wait for him, and not move from thence. And they had it proclaimed throughout the host that none should be so rash as to disregard this order, and move from his post for any cry or tumult that might come to his ears. And it was settled that Geoffry the Marshal should keep guard on the side of the city, with Manasses of l'Isle. So they passed that night till the Thursday morning in Easter week, when they heard mass and ate their dinner. And the Comans ran up to their tents, and a cry arose, and they ran to arms, and issued from the camp with all their battalions in array, as had afore been devised. 94 DEFEAT OF THE CRUSADERS-BALDWIN TAKEN PRISONER Count Louis went out first with his battalion, and began to follow after the Comans, and sent to urge the emperor to come after him. Alas! how ill did they keep to what had been settled the night before! For they ran in pursuit of the Comans for at least two leagues, and joined issue with them, and chased them a long space. And then the Comans turned back upon them, and began to cry out and to shoot. On our side there were battalions made up of other people than knights, people having too little knowledge of arms, and they began to wax afraid and be discomfited. And Count Louis, who had been the first to attack, was wounded in two places full sorely; and the Comans and Wallachians began to invade our ranks; and the count had fallen, and one of his knights, whose name was John of Friaise, dismounted, and set him on his horse. Many were Count Louis' people who said: "Sir, get you hence, for you are too sorely wounded, and in two places." And he said: "The Lord God forbid that ever I should be reproached with flying from the field, and abandoning the emperor." The emperor, who was in great straits on his side, recalled his people, and he told them that he would not fly, and that they were to remain with him: and well do those who were there present bear witness that never did knight defend himself better with his hands than did the emperor. This combat lasted a long time. Some were there who did well, and some were there who fled. In the end, for so God suffers misadventures to occur, they were discomfited. There on the field remained the Emperor Baldwin, who never would fly, and Count Louis; the Emperor Baldwin was taken alive and Count Louis was slain. Alas! how woful was our loss! There was lost the Bishop Peter of Bethlehem, and Stephen of Perche, brother to Count Geoffry, and Renaud of Montmirail, brother of the Count of Nevers, and Matthew of Wallincourt, and Robert of Ronsoi, John of Friaise, Walter of Neuilli, Ferri of Yerres, John his brother, Eustace of Heumont, John his brother, Baldwin of Neuville, and many more of whom the book does 95 not here make mention. Those who were able to escape, they came back flying to the camp. THE CRUSADERS RAISE THE SIEGE OF ADRIANOPLE When Geoffry the Marshal of Champagne, who was keeping guard at one of the gates of the cityo , saw this he issued from the camp as soon as he could, with all the men that were with him, and gave command to Manasses of lisle, who was on guard at another gate, that he should follow after him. And he rode forth with all his force at full speed, and in full array, to meet the fugitives, and the fugitives all rallied round him. And Manasses of l'Isle followed as soon as he was able, with his men, and joined himself to him, so that together they formed a very strong body; and all those who came out of the rout, and whom they could stop, were taken into their ranks. The rout was thus stayed between Nones and Vespers. But the most part of the fugitives were so afeared that they fled right before them till they came to the tents and quarters. Thus was the rout stayed, as you have heard; and the Comans, with the Wallachians and Greeks, who were in full chace, ceased their pursuit. But these still galled our force with their bows and arrows, and the men of our force kept still with their faces turned towards them. Thus did both sides remain till nightfall, when the Comans and Wallachians began to retire. Then did Geoffry of Villehardouin, the Marshal of Champagne and Roumania, summon to the camp the Doge of Venice, who was an old man and saw naught, but very wise and brave and vigorous; and he asked the Doge to come to him there where he stood with his men, holding the field; and the Doge did so. And when the Marshal saw him, he called him into council, aside, all alone, and said to him: "Lord, you see the misadventure that has befallen us. We have lost the Emperor Baldwin and Count Louis, and the larger part of our people, and of the best. Now let us bethink ourselves how to save what is left. For if God does not take pity of them, we are but lost." And in the end they settled it thus: that the Doge would return to the camp, and put heart into the people, and order that every one should arm and remain quiet in his tent or 96 pavilion; and that Geoffry the Marshal would remain in full order of battle before the camp till it was night, so that their enemies might not see the host move; and that when it was night all would move from before the city; the Doge of Venice would go before, and Geoffry the Marshal would form the rear-guard, with those who were with him. RETREAT OF THE CRUSADERS Thus they waited till it was night; and when it was night the Doge of Venice left the camp, as had been arranged, and Geoffry the Marshal formed the rear-guard. And they departed at foot pace, and took with them all their people mounted and dismounted, the wounded as well those who were whole-they left not one behind. And they journeyed towards a city that lies upon the sea, called Rodosto, and that was full three days' journey distant. So they departed from Adrianople, as you have heard; and this adventure befell in the year of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ twelve hundred and five. And in the night that the host left Adrianople, it happened that a company started to get to Constantinople earlier, and by a more direct way; and they were greatly blamed therefor. In this company was a certain count from Lombardy named Gerard, who came from the land of the marquis, and Odo of Ham, who was lord of a castle called Ham in Vermandois, and John of Maseroles, and many others to the number of twenty-five knights, whom the book does not name. And they went away so fast after the discomfiture, which had taken place on the Thursday evening, that they came to Constantinople on the Saturday night, though it was ordinarilyagoodfivedays'journey. Andtheytoldthenews to the Cardinal Peter of Capua, who was there by the authority of Innocent Pope of Rome, and to Conon of Béthune, who guarded the city, and to Miles the Brabant, and to the other good men in the city. And you must know that these were greatly affeared, and thought of a certainty that all the rest, who had been left before Adrianople, were lost, for they had no news of them. 97 PETER OF BRACIEUX AND PAYEN OF ORLEANS MEET THE RETREATING HOST Now will we say no more about those at Constantinople, who were in sore trouble, but go back to the Doge of Venice and Geoffry the Marshal, who marched all the night that they left Adrianople, till the dawn of the following day; and then they came to a city called Pamphyle. Now listen and you shall hear how adventures befall as God wills: for in that city had lain during the night, Peter of Bracieux and Payen of Orldans, and all the men belonging to the land of Count Louis, at least a hundred very good knights and one hundred and forty mounted sergeants, and they were coming from the other side of the straits to join the host at Adrianople. When they saw the host coming, they ran to their arms nght nimbly, for they thought we were the Greeks. So they armed themselves, and sent to know what people we were, when their messengers discovered that we were the host retreating after our discomfiture. So the messengers went back, and told them that the Emperor Baldwin was lost, and their lord Count Louis, of whose land and country they were, and of whose following. Sadder news could they not have heard. There might you have seen many tears wept, and many hands wrung for sorrow and pity. And they went on, all an-ned as they were, till they came to where Geoffry, the Marshal of Champagne, was keeping guard in the rear, in very great anxiety and misease. For Johannizza, the King of Wallachia and Bulgaria, had come at the point of day before Adrianople with all his host, and found that we had departed, and so ridden after us till it was full day; and when he found us not, he was full of grief; and well was it that he found us not, for if he had found us we must all have been lost beyond recovery. "Sir," said Peter of Bracieux and Payen of Orléans to Geoffry the Marshal, "what would you have us do? We will do whatever you wish." And he answered them: " You see how matters stand with us. You are fresh and unwearied, and your horses also; therefore do you keep guard in the rear, and I will go forward and hold in hand our people, who are greatly dismayed and in sore need of comfort." To this they consented right willingly. So they 98 established the rearguard duly and efficiently, and as men who well knew how, for they were good knights and honourable. THE HOST REACHES RODOSTO Geoffry the Marshal rode before and led the host, and rode till he came to a city called Cariopolis. Then he saw that the horses were weary with marching all night, and entered into the city, and put them up till noon. And they gave food to their horses, and ate themselves of what they could find, and that was but little. So they remained all the day in that city until night. And Johannizza, the King of Wallachia, had followed them all the day with all his powers, and encamped about two leaaues from them. And when it was night, those in the city all armed themselves and departed. Geoffry the Marshal led the van, and those formed the rear-guard who had formed it during the day. So they rode through that night, and the following day (16th April) in great fear and much hardship, till they came to the city of Rodosto, a city very rich and very strong, and inhabited by Greeks. These Greeks did not dare to defend themselves, so our people entered in and took quarters; so at last were they in safety. Thus did the host escape from Adrianople, as you have heard. Then was a council held in the city of Rodosto; and it seemed to the council that Constantinople was in greater jeopardy than they were. So they took messengers, and sent them by sea, telling them to travel night and day, and to advise those in the city not to be anxious about them-for they had escaped-and that they would repair back to Constantinople as soon as they could. SEVEN THOUSAND PILGRIMS LEAVE THE CRUSADERS At the time when the messengers arrived, there were in Constantinople five ships of Venice, very large and very good, laden with pilgrims, and knights and sergeants, who were leaving the land and returning to their own countries. There were at least seven thousand men at arms in the ships, and one was William the advocate of Béthune, and there were besides Baldwin of Aubigny, and John of Virsin, who be- 99 longed to the land of Count Louis, and was his liegeman, and at least one hundred other knights, whom the book does not here name. Master Peter of Capua, who was cardinal from the Pope of Rome, Innocent, and Conon of Béthune, who commanded in Constantinople, and Miles the Brabant, and a great number of other men of mark, went to the five ships, and prayed those who were in them, with sighs and tears, to have mercy and pity upon Christendom, and upon their liege lords who had been lost in battle, and to remain for the love of God. But they would not listen to a single word, and left the port. They spread their sails, and went their way, as God ordained, in such sort that the wind took them to the port of Rodosto; and this was on the day following that on which those who had escaped from the discomfiture came thither. The same prayers, with tears and weeping, that had been addressed to them at Constantinople-those same prayers were now addressed to them at Rodosto; and Geoffry the Marshal, and those who were with him, besought them to have mercy and pity on the land, and remain, for never would they be able to succour any land in such dire need. They replied that they would consult together, and give an answer on the morrow. And now listen to the adventure which befell that night in the city. There was a knight from the land of Count Louis, called Peter of Frouville, who was held in honour, and of great name. The same fled by night, and left all his baggage and his people, and gat himself to the ship of John of Virsin, who was from the land of Count Louis of Blois and Chartres. And those on board the five ships, who in the morning were to give their answer to Geoffry the Marshal and to the Doge of Venice, so soon as they saw the day, they spread their sails, and went their way without word said to any one. Much and great blame did they receive, both in the land whither they went, and in the land they had left; and he who received most blame of all was Peter of Frouville. For well has it been said that he is but ill-advised who, through fear of death, does what will be a reproach to him for ever. 100 MEETING OF MANY OF THE CRUSADERS-HENRY, THE BROTHER OF BALDWIN, IS MADE REGENT Now let us speak of these last no farther, but speak of Henry, brother to the Emperor Baldwin of Constantinople, who had left Adramittium, which he had conquered, and passed the straits at the city of Abydos, and was coming towards Adrianople to succour the Emperor Baldwin, his brother. And with him had come the Armenians of the land, who had helped him against the Greeks-some twenty thousand with all their wives and children-for they dared not remain behind. Then came to him the news, by certain Greeks, who had escaped from the discomfiture, that his brother the Emperor Baldwin was lost, and Count Louis, and the other barons. Afterwards came the news of those who had escaped and were at Rodosto; and these asked him to make all the haste he could, and come to them. And because he wanted to hasten as much as he could, and reach them earlier, he left behind the Armenians, who travelled on foot, and had with them chariots, and their wives and children; and inasmuch as these could not come on so fast, and he thought they would travel safely and without hurt, he went forward and encamped in a village called Cartopolis. On that very day came thither the nephew of Geoffry the Marshal, Anseau of Courcelles, whom Geoffry had summoned from the parts of Macre, Trajanopolis, and the Baie, lands that had been bestowed upon him; and with Anseau came the people from PhilippoPolis, who had left Renier of Trit. This company held full a hundred good knights, and full five hundred mounted sergeants, who all were on their way to Adrianople to succour the Emperor Baldwin. But tidings had come to them, as to the others, that the emperor had been defeated, so they turned to go to Rodosto, and came to encamp at Cartopolis, the village where Henry, the brother of the Emperor Baldwin, was then encamped. And when Baldwin's men saw them coming, they ran to arms, for they thought they were Greeks, and the others thought the same of Baldwin's men. And so they advanced till they became known to one another, and each was right glad of the other's 101 coming, and felt all the safer; and they quartered themselves in the village that night until the morrow. On the morrow they left, and rode straight towards Rodosto, and came that night to the city; and there they found the Doge of Venice and Geoffry the Marshal, and all who had escaped from the late discomfiture; and right glad were these to see them. Then were many tears shed for sorrow by those who had lost their friends. Ah, God! what pity it was that those men now assembled had not been at Adrianople with the Emperor Baldwin, for in that case would nothing have been lost. But such was not God's pleasure. So they sojoumed there on the following day, and the day after, and arranged matters; and Henry, the brother of the Emperor Baldwin, was received into lordship, as regent of the empire, in lieu of his brother. And then misfortune came upon the Armenians, who were coming after Henry, the brother of the Emperor Baldwin, for the people of the land gathered together and discomfited the Armenians, so that they were all taken, killed or lost. RETURN TO CONSTANTINOPLE - APPEALS FOR HELP SENT TO THE POPE, AND TO FRANCE AND TO OTHER LANDS - DEATH OF THE DOGE Johannizza., King of Wallachia and Bulgaria, had with him all his power, and he occupied the whole land; and the country, and the cities, and the castles held for him; and his Comans over-ran the land as far as Constantinople. Henry the regent of the empire, and the Doge of Venice, and Geoffry the Marshal, were still at Rodosto, which is a three days' journey from Constantinople. And they took council, and the Doge of Venice set a garrison of Venetians in Rodosto -for it was theirs. And on the morrow they put their forces in array, and rode, day by day, towards Constantinople. When they reached Selymbria, a city which is two days' journey from Constantinople, and belonged to the Emperor Baldwin, Henry his brother set there a garrison of his people, and they rode with the rest to Constantinople, where they were received right willingly, for the people were in great terror. Nor is that to be wondered at, for they had lost so much of the country, that outside Constantinople they only held Rodosto and Selymbria; the whole of the rest of the 102 country being held by Johannizza, King of Wallachia and Bulgaria. And on the other side of the straits of St. George, they held no more than the castle of Piga, while the rest of the land was in the hands of Theodore Lascaris. Then the barons decided to send to the Apostle of Rome, Innocent, and to France and Flanders, and to other lands, to ask for succour. And for this purpose were chosen as envoys Nevelon, Bishop of Soissons, and Nicholas of Mailly, and John Bliaud. The rest remained in Constantinople, in great distress, as men who stood in fear of losing the land. So they remained till Pentecost (29th May 1205). And within this time a very great misfortune happened to the host, for Henry Dandolo was taken sick; so he made an end and died, and was buried with great honour in the church of St. Sophia. When Pentecost had come, Johannizza, the King of Wallachia and Bulgaria, had pretty well had his will of the land; and he could no longer hold his Comans to-ether, because they were unable to keep the field during the summer; so the Comans departed to their own country. And he, with all his host of Bulgarians and Greeks, marched against the marquis towards Salonika. And the marquis, who had heard the news of the discomfiture of the Emperor Baldwin, raised the siege of Napoli, and went to Salonika with as many men as he could collect, and garrisoned it. THE REGENT OBTAINS CERTAIN ADVANTAGES OVER THE GREEKS Henry, the brother of the Emperor Baldwin of Constantinople, with as many people as he could gather, marched against the Greeks to a city called Tzurulum, which is a three days' journey from Constantinople. This city surrendered, and the Greeks swore fealty to him-an oath which at that time men observed badly. From thence he marched to Arcadiopolis, and found it void, for the Greeks did not dare to await his coming. And from thence again he rode to the city of Bizye, which was very strong, and well garrisoned with Greeks; and this city too surrendered. Aferwards he rode to the city of Napoli (Apros) which also remained well garrisoned with Greeks. As our people were preparing for an assault, the Greeks within the city asked to negotiate for capitulation. But 103 while they thus negotiated, the men of the host effected an entrance into the city on another side, and Henry the Regent of the empire and those who were negotiating knew nothing of it. And this proved very disastrous to the Greeks. For the Franks, who had effected an entrance, began to slaughter them, and to seize their goods, and to take all that they had. So were many killed and taken captive. In this wise was Napoli (Apros) captured; and the host remained there three days. And the Greeks were so terrified by this slaughter, that they abandoned all the cities and castles of the land, and fled for refuge to Adrianople and Demotica, which were very strong and good cities. SERES SURRENDERS TO JOHANNIZZA - HE FORFEITS HIS WORD At that time it happened that Johannizza, the King of Wallachia and Bulgaria, with all his host, marched against the marquis, towards a city called Seres. And the marquis had set a strong garrison of his people in the city, for he had set there Hugh of Colemi, who was a very good knight, and hi,h in rank, and William of Arles, who was his marshal, and great part of his best men. And Johannizza, the King of Wallachia besieged them; nor had he been there long before he took the burgh by force. And at the taking of the burgh a great misfortune befell, for Hugh of Colemi was killed; he was struck through the eye. When he was killed, who was the best of them all, the rest of the garrison were greatly afeared. They drew back into the castle, which was very strong; and Johannizza besieged them, and erected his petraries and mangonels. Nor had he besieged them long before they began to talk about surrendering, for which they were afterwards blamed, and incurred great reproach. And they agreed to yield up the castle to Johannizza, and Johannizza on his side caused twenty-five of the men of highest rank that he had to swear to them that they should be taken, safe and sound, with all their horses, and all their arms, and all their baggage, to Salonika, or Constantinople, or Hungary-wMchever of the three it liked them best. In this manner was Seres surrendered, and Johannizza caused the besieged to come forth from the castle and en- 104 camp near him in the fields; and he treated them with much fair seeming, and sent them presents. So he kept them for three days, and then he lied and foreswore his promises; for he had them taken, and spoiled of their goods, and led away to Wallachia, naked, and unshod, and on foot. The poor and the mean people, who were of little worth, he sent into Hungary; and as for the others, he caused their heads to be cut off. Of such mortal treachery was the KinL, of Wallachia guilty, as you have heard. Here'did the host suffer grievous loss, one of the most dolorous that ever it suffered. And Johannizza had the castle and city razed, and went on after the marquis. THE REGENT BESIEGES ADRIANOPLE IN VAIN Henry, the Regent of the empire, with all his power, rode towards Adrianople, and laid siege to it; and he was in great peril, for there were many, both within and without the city who so hemmed him in, he and his people, that they could scantl buy provisions, or go foraging. Therefore they enclosed their camp with palisades and barriers, and told off part of their men to keep guard within the palisades and barriers, while the others attacked the city. And they devised machines of divers kinds, and scaling ladders, and many other engines, and wrought diligently to take the city. But they could not take it, for the city was very strong and well furnished for defence. So matters went ill with them, and many of their people were wounded; and one of their good knights, Peter of Bracieux, was struck on the forehead from a mangonel, and brought near to death; but he recovered, by the will of God, and was taken away in a litter. When they saw that they could in no wise prevail against the city, Henry the Regent of the empire, and the French host departed. And greatly were they harassed by the people of the land and by the Greeks; and they rode -from day to day till they came to a city called Pamphyle, and lodged there, and sojourned in it for two months. And they made thence many forays towards Demotica and the country round about, where they captured much cattle, and other booty. So the host remained in those parts till the beginning of winter; and supplies came to them from Rodosto, and from the sea. 105 DESTRUCTION OF PHILIPPOPOLIS BY JOHANNIZZA Now let us leave speaking of Henry, the Regent of the empire, and speak of Johannizza, the King of Wallachia and Bulgaria, who had taken Seres, as you have already heard, and killed by treachery those who had surrendered to him. Afterwards he had ridden towards Salonika, and sojoumed thereby a long while, and wasted a great part of tfle land. The Marquis Boniface of Montferrat was at Salonika, very wroth, and sorrowing greatly for the loss of his lord the Emperor Baldwin, and for the other barons, and for his castle of Seres that he had lost, and for his men. And when Johannizza saw that he could do nothing more, he retired towards his own land, with all his force. And the people in Philippopolis-which belonged to Renier of Trit, for the Emperor Baldwin had bestowed it upon him-heard tell how the Emperor Baldwin was lost, and many of his barons, and that the marquis had lost Seres; and they saw that the relatives of Renier of Trit, and his own son and his nephew, had abandoned him, and that he had with him but very few people; and they deemed that the Franks would never be in power again. So a great part of the people, who were Paulicians, [Note: An Eastem sect. They believed, among other things, that all matter is evfl, and that Christ suffered in appearance only.] betook themselves to Johannizza, and surrendered themselves to him, and said: " Sire, ride to Philippopolis, or send thither thy host, and we will deliver the whole city into thy hands." When Renier of Trit, who was in the city, knew of this, he doubted not that they would yield up the city to Johannizza. So he issued forth with as many people as he could collect, and left at the point of day, and came to one of the outlying quarters of the city where dwelt the Paulicians who had repaired to Johannizza, and he set fire to that quarter of the city, and burned a great part of it. Then he went to the castle of Stanimac, which was at three leagues' distance, and garrisoned by his people, and entered therein. And in this castle he lay besieged for a long while, some thirteen months, in great distress and great poverty, so that for famine they ate their horses. He was distant a nine 106 days' journey from Constantinople, and could neither obtain tidings therefrom, nor send tidings thither. Then did Johannizza send his host before Philippopolis; nor had he been there long before those who were in the city surrendered it to him, and he promised to spare their lives. And after he had promised to spare their lives, he first caused the archbishop of the city to be slain, and the men of rank to be flayed alive, and certain others to be burned, and certain others to have their heads cut off, and the rest he caused to be driven away in chains. And the city he caused to be pulled down, with its towers and walls; and the high palaces and rich houses to be burned and utterly destroyed. Thus was destroyed the noble city of Philippopolis, one of the three finest cities in the empire of Constantinople. THE REGENT SETS GARRISONS IN SUCH PLACES AS HE STILL HELD Now let us leave off speaking of those who were at Philippopolis, and of Renier of Trit, who is shut up in Stanimac, and return to Henry, the brother of the Emperor Baldwin, who had sojourned at Pamphyle till the beginning of winter. Then he took council with his men and with his barons; and they decided to set a garrison in a city called Rusium, which was situate at a place rich and fertile in the middle of the land; and the chiefs placed over this garrison were Thierri of Loos, who was seneschal, and Thierri of Tenremonde, who was constable. And Henry,,the Regent of the empire, gave to them at least seven score knights, and a great many mounted sergeants, and ordered them to maintain the war against the Greeks, and to guard the marches. And he himself went with the rest of his people to the city of Bizye, and placed a garrison there; and left in command Anseau of Cayeux, and confided to him at least six score knights, and a great many mounted sergeants. Another city, called Arcadiopolis was garrisoned by the Venetians. And the city of Napoli was restored by the brother of the Emperor Baldwin to Vemas, who had to wife the sister [Agnes, sister to Philip Augustus, King of France] of the King of France, and was a Greek who sided with us; and except he, no other Greek was on our part. And those who were in these cities maintained the war against the Greeks, 107 and made many forays. Henry himself returned to Constantinople with the rest of his men. Now Johannizza, the King of Wallachia and Bulgaria, though rich and of great possessions, never forgat his own interests, but raised a great force of Comans and Wallachians. And when it came to three weeks after Christmas, he sent these men into the land of Roumania to help those at Adrianople and Demotica; and the latter, being now in force, grew bolder and rode abroad with the greater assurance. DEFEAT OF THE FRANKS NEAR RUSIUM Thierri of Tenremonde, who was chief and constable, made a foray on the fourth day before the feast of St. Mary Candlemas (30th January 1206); and he rode all night, having six score knights with him, and left Rusium with but a small garrison. When it was dawn, he came to a village where the Comans and Wallachians were encamped, and surprised them in such sort that those who were in the village were unaware of their coming. They killed a good many of the Comans and Wallachians, and captured some forty of their horses; and when they had done this execution, they turned back towards Rusium. And on that very night the Comans and Wallachians had ridden forth to do us hurt; and there were some seven thousand of them. They came in the morning before Rusium, and were there a lono, space; and the garrison, which was but small, closed the gates, and mounted the walls; and the Comans and Wallachians turned back. They had not gone more than a league and a half from the city, when they met the company of the French under the command of Thierri of Tenremonde. So soon as the French saw them advancing, they formed into their four battalions, with intent to draw into Rusium in slow time; for they knew that if, by God's grace, they could come thither, they would then be in safety. The Comans, and the Wallachians, and the Greeks of the land rode towards them, for they were in very great force. And they came upon the rear-guard, and began to harass it full sorely. Now the rear-guard was formed of the men of Thierri of Loos, who was seneschal, and had returned to Constantinople, and his brother Villain was now in command. 108 And the Comans and Wallachians and Greeks pressed them very hard, and wounded many of their horses. Loud were the cries and fierce the onslaught, so that by main force and pure distress they drove the rear-guard back on the battalion of Andrew of Urboise and John of Choisy; and in this manner the Franks retreated, suffering greatly. The enemy renewed their onslaught so fiercely that they drove the Franks who were nearest to them back on the battalion of Thierri of Tenremonde, the constable. Nor was it long before they drove them back still further on to the battalions led by Charles of the Frêne. And now the Franks had retreated, sore harassed, till they were within half a mile of Rusium. And the others ever pressed upon them more hardily; and the battle went sore against them, and many were wounded, and of their horses. So, as God will suffer misadventures, they could endure no further, but were discomfited; for they were heavily armed, and their enemies lightly; and the latter began to slaughter them. Alas! well might Christendom rue that day! For of all those six score knights did not more than ten escape who were not killed or taken; and those who escaped came flying into Rusiiim, and rejoined their own people. There was slain Thierri of Tenremonde, the constable, Orri of l'Isle, who was a good knight and highly esteemed, and John of Pompone, Andrew of Urboise, John of Choisy, Guy of Conflans, Charles of the Frêne, Villain the brother of Thierri the seneschal. Nor can this book tell the names of all who were then killed or taken. On that day happened one of the greatest mishaps, and the most grievous that ever befell to the Christendom of the land of Roumania, and one of the most pitiful. he Comans and Greeks and Wallachians retired, having done according to their will in the land, and won many good horses and good hawberks. And this misadventure happened on the day before the eve of our Lady St. Mary Candlemas (31st January 1206). And the remnant who had escaped from the discomfiture, together with those who had been in Rusium. escaped from the city, so soon as it was night, and went all night flying, and came on the morrow to the city of Rodosto. 109 NEW INVASION OF JOHANNIZZA; RUIN OF NAPOLI This dolorous news came to Henry the Regent of the empire, while he was going in procession to the shrine of our Lady of Blachemae, on the day of the feast of our Lady St. Mary Candlemas. And you must know that many were then dismayed in Constantinople, and they thought of a truth that the land was but lost. And Henry, the Regent of the empire, decided that he would place a garrison in Selymbria, which was a two days' journey from Constantinople, and he sent thither Macaire of Sainte-Menehould, with fifty knights to garrison the city. Now when tidings came to Johannizza, King of Wallachia. as to how his people had fared, he was very greatly rejoiced'; for they had killed or taken a very great part of the best men in the French host. So he sent throughout all his lands to collect as many people as he could, and raised a great host of Comans, and Greeks and Wallachians, and entered into Roumania. And the greater part of the cities held for him, and all the castles; and he had so large a host that it was a marvel. When the Venetians heard tell that he was coming with so great a force, they abandoned Arcadiopolis. And Johannizza rode with all his hosts till he came to Napoli, which was garrisoned by Greeks and Latins, and belonged to Vemas, who had to wife the empress, the sister of the King of France; and of the Latins was chief Bègue of Fransures, a knight of the land of the Beauvaisais. And Johannizza, the King of Wallachia, caused the city to be assaulted, and took it by force. There was so great a slaughter of people killed, that it was a marvel. And Bègue of Fransures was taken before Johannizza, who had him killed incontinently, together with all, whether Greek or Latin, who were of any account; and all the meaner folk, and women and children, he caused to, be led away captive to Wallachia. Then did he cause all the city-which was verv good and very rich, and in a good land, to be cast down and utterly destroyed. Thus was the city of Napoli rased to the ground as you have heard. 110 DESTRUCTION OF RODOSTO Twelve leagues thence lay the city of Rodosto, on the sea. Tt was very strong, and rich, and large, and very well garrisoned by Venetians, And besides all this, there had come thither a body of sergeants, some two thousand strong, and they had also come to guard the city. When they heard that Napoli had been taken by force, and that Johannizza had caused all the people that were therein to be put to death, they fell in to such terror that they were utterly confounded and foredone. As God suffers misadventures to fall upon men, so the Venetians rushed to their ships, helter-skelter, pell-mell, and in such sort that they almost drowned one another; and the mounted sergeants, who came from France and Flanders, and other countries, went flying through the land. Now listen and hear how little this served them, and what a misadventure was their flight; for the city was so strong, and so well enclosed by good walls and good towers, that no one would ever have ventured to assault it, and that Johannizza had no thought of going thither. But when Johannizza, who was full half a day's journey distant, heard tell that they had fled, he rode thither. The Greeks who had remained in the city, surrendered, and he incontinently caused them to be taken, small and great-save those who escaped-and led captive into Wallachia; and the city he ordered to be destroyed and rased to the ground. Ah! the loss and dar.,iage! for the city was one of the best in Roumania, and of the best situated. JOHANNIZZA CONTINUES HIS CONQUESTS AND RAVAGES Near there was another citv called Panedor, which surrendered to him; and he caused it to be utterly destroyed, and the people to be led captive to Wallachia like the people of Rodosto. Afterwards he rode to the city of Heraclea, that lay by a good seaport, and belonged to the Venetians, who had left in it but a weak garrison; so he assaulted it, and took it by force. There aain was a mighty slaughter, and the remnant that escaped the slaughter he caused to be led captive to Wallachia, while the city itself he destroyed, as lie had destroyed the others. 111 Thence he marched to the city of Daonium, which was very strong and fine; and the people did not dare to defend it. So he caused it to be destroyed and rased to the ground. Then he marched to the city of Tzurulum, which had already surrendered to him, and caused it to be destroyed and rased to the ground, and the people to be led away captive. And thus he dealt with every castle and city that surrendered; even though he had promised them safety, he caused the buildings to be destroyed, and the men and women to be led away captive; and no covenant that he made did he ever keep. Then the Comans and Wallachians scoured the land up to the gates of Constantinople, where Henry the Regent then was, with as many men as he could command; and very dolorous was he and very wroth, because he could not get men enough to defend his land. So the Comans seized the cattle off the land, and took captive men, women, and children, and destroyed the cities and castles, and caused such ruin and desolation that never has man heard tell of greater. So they came to a city called Athyra, which was twelve leagues from Constantinople, and had been given to Payen of Orléans by Henry, the emperor's brother. This city held a very great number of people, for the dwellers in the country round about had fled thither; and the Comans assaulted it, and took it by force. There the slaughter was so great, that there had been none such in any city where they had been. And you must know that all the castles and all the cities that surrendered to Johannizza under promise of safety were destroyed and rased to the ground, and the people led away captive to Wallachia in such manner as you have heard. And you must know that within five days' journey from Constantinople there remained nothing to destroy save only the city of Bizye, and the city of Selymbria, which were garrisoned by the French. And in Bizye abode Anseau of Cayeux, with six score knights, and in Salymbria abode Macaire of Sainte-Menehould with fifty knights; and Henry the brother of the Emperor Baldwin remained in Constantinople with the remainder of the host. And you may know that their fortunes were at the lowest, seeing that outside of Constantinople they had kepl& possession of no more than these two cities. 112 THE GREEKS ARE RECONCILED TO THE CRUSADERS - JOHANNIZZA DESIEGES DEMOTICA When the Greeks who were in the host with Johannizza - the same who had yielded themselves up to him, and rebelled against the Franks - when they saw how he destroyed their castles and cities, and kept no covenant with them, they held themselves to be but dead men, and betrayed. They spoke one to another, and said that as Johannizza had dealt with other cities, so would he deal with Adrianople and Demotica, when he returned thither, and that if these two cities were destroyed, then was Roumania for ever lost. So they took messengers privily, and sent them to Vernas in Constantinople. And they besought Vernas to cry for pity to Henry, the brother of the Emperor Baldwin, and to the Venetians, so that they might make peace with them; and they themselves, in turn, would restore Adrianople and Demotica to the Franks; and the Greeks would all turn to Henry; and the Greeks and Franks dwell together in good accord. So a council was held, and many words were spoken this way and that, but in the end it was settled that Adrianople and Demotica, with all their appurtenances, should be bestowed on Vernas and the empress his wife, who was sister to the King Philip of France, and that they should do service therefor to the emperor and to the empire. Such was the convention made and concluded, and so was peace established between the Greeks and the Franks. Johanizza, the King of Wallachia and Bulgaria, who had sojourned long in Roumania, and wasted the country during the whole of Lent, and for a good while after Easter (2nd April 1206), now retired towards Adrianople and Demotica, and had it in mind to deal with those cities as he had dealt with the other cities of the land. And when the Greeks who were with him saw that he turned towards Adrianople, they began to steal away, both by day and by night, some twenty, thirty, forty, a hundred, at a time. When he came to Adrianople, he required of those that were within that they should let him enter, as he had entered elsewhere. But they said they would not, and spoke thus: "Sire, when we surrendered to thee, and rebelled against the 113 Franks, thou didst swear to protect us in all good faith, and to keep us in safety. Thou hast not done so, but hast utterly ruined Roumania; and we know full well that thou wilt do unto us as thou hast done unto others." And when Johannizza heard this, he laid siege to Demotica, and erected round it sixteen large petraries, and began to construct engines of every kind for the siege, and to waste all the country round. Then did those in Adrianople and Demotica take messengers, and send them to Constantinople, to Henry, the Regent of the empire, and to Vemas, and prayed them, for God's sake, to rescue Demotica, which was being besieged. And when those at Constantinople heard these tidings, they decided to succour Demotica. But some there were who did not dare to advise that our people should issue from Constantinople, and so place in jeopardy the few Christian folk that remained. Nevertheless, in the end, as you have heard, it was decided to issue forth, and move on Selymbria. The cardinal, who was there as legate on the part of the Pope of Rome, preached thereon to the people, and promised a full indulgence to all such as should go forth, and lose their lives on the way. So Henry issued from Constantinople with as many men as he could collect, and marched to the city of Selyrnbria; and he encamped before the city for full eight days. And from day to day came messengers from Adrianople praying him to have mercy upon them, and come to their relief, for if he did not come to their relief, they were but lost. THE CRUSADERS MARCH TO THE RELIEF OF DEMOTICA Then did Henry take council with his barons, and their decision was that they would go to the city of Bizve, which was a fair city, and strong. So they did as they had devised, and came to Bizye, and encamped before the city on the eve of the feast of our Lord St. John the Baptist, in June (23rd June 1206). And on the day that they so encamped came messengers from Adrianople, and said to Henry, the brother of the Emperor Baldwin: "Sire, be it known to thee that if thou dost not relieve the city of Demotica, it cannot hold out more than eight days, for Johannizza's petraries have breached the walls in four places, and his men have twice got on to the walls." 114 Then he asked for counsel as to what he should do. Many were the words spoken, to and fro; but in the end they said: " Lord, we have come so far that we shall be for ever shamed if we do not succour Demotica. Let every man now confess and receive the communion; and then let us set our forces in array." And it was reckoned that they had with them about four hundred knights, and of a certainty no more. So they summoned the messengers who had come from Adrianople, and asked them how matters stood, and what number of men Johannizza had with him. And the messengers answered that he had with him at least forty thousand men-at-arms, not reckoning those on foot, of whom they had no count. Ah God! what a perilous battle-so few against so many 1 In the morning, on the day of the feast of our Lord St. John the Baptist, all confessed and received the communion, and on the following day they marched forward. The van was commanded by Geoffry, the Marshal of Roumania and Champagne, and with him was Macaire of Sainte-Menehould. The second division was under Conon of Béthune and Miles the Brabant; the third under Payen of Orléans and Peter of Bracieux; the fourth was under Anseau of Cayeux; the fifth under Baldwin of Beauvoir; the sixth under Hugh of Beaumetz; the seventh under Henry, brother of the Emperor Baldwin; the eighth, with the Flemings, under Walter of Escornai; Thierri of Loos, who was seneschal, commanded the rear-guard. So they rode for three days, all in order; nor did any host ever advance seeking battle so perilously. For they were in peril on two accounts; first because they were so few, and those they were about to attack so many; and secondly, because they did not believe the Greeks, with whom they had just made peace, would help them heartily. For they stood in fear lest, when need arose, the Greeks would go over to Johannizza, who, as you have already heard, had been so near to taking Demotica. JOHANNIZZA RETREATS, FOLLOWED BY THE CRUSADERS When Johannizza heard that the Franks were coming, he did not dare to abide, but burned his engines of war, and broke up his camp. So he departed from Demotica; and you must know that this was accounted by all the world as a 115 great miracle. And Henry, the Regent of the empire, came on the fourth day (28th June) before Adrianople, and pitched his cainp near the river of Adrianople, in the fairest meadows in the world. When those who were within the city saw his host coming, they issued forth, bearing all their crosses, and in procession, and showed such joy as had never been seen. And well might they rejoice for they had been in evil case. Then came tidings to the host that Johannizza was lodged at a castle called Rodosto. So in the morning they set forth and marched to those parts to seek battle; and Johannizza broke up his,camp, and marched back towards his own land. The host followed after him for five days, and he as constantly retired before them. On the fifth day they encamped at a very fair and pleasant place by a castle called Fraim; and there they sojoumed three days. And at this place there was a division in the host, and a company of valiant men separated themselves therefrom because of a quarrel that they had with Henry, the brother of the Emperor Baldwin. Of this company Baldwin of Beauvoir was chief; and Hugh of Beaumetz went with him, and William of Gommegnies and Dreux of Beaurain. There were some fifty knights who departed together in that company; and they never thought the rest would dare to remain in the land in the midst of their enemies. RENIER OF TRIT RELIEVED AND DELIVERED Then did Henry, the Regent of the empire, take council with the barons that were with him; and they decided to ride forward. So they rode forward for two days, and encamped in a very fair valley, near a castle called Moniac. The castle yielded itself to them, and they remained there five days; and then said they would go and relieve Renier of Trit, who was besieged in Stanimac, and had been shut up therein for thirteen months. So Henry the Regent of the empire, remained in the camp, with a great part of the host, and the remainder went forward to relieve Renier of Trit at Stanimac. And you must know that those who went forward went in very great peril, and that any rescue so full of danger has but seldom been undertaken, seeing that they rode for three days through the land of their enemies. In this rescue took part 116 Conon of Béthune, and Geoffry of Villehardouin, Marshal of Roumania and Champagne, and Macaire of Sainte-Menehould, and Miles the Brabant, and Peter of Bracieux, and Payen of Orléans, and Anseau of Cayeux, and Thierri of Loos, and William of Perchoi, and a body of Venetians under command of Andrew Valère. So they rode forward till they came to the castle of Stanimac, and approached so near that they could now see it. Renier of Trit was on the walls, and he perceived the advanced guard, which was under Geoffry the Marshal, and the other battalions, approaching in very good order; and he knew not what people they might be. And no wonder that he was in doubt, for of a long time he had heard no tidings of us ; and he thought we were Greeks coming to besiege him. Geoffry the Marshal of Roumania and Champagne took certain Turcoples [soldiers born of a Turkish father atid a Greek mother] and mounted cross-bowmen and sent them forward to see if they could learn the condition of the castle; for they knew not if those within it were alive or dead, seeing that of a long time they had heard no tidings of them. And when these came before the castle, Renier of Trit and his men knew them; and you may well think what joy they had 1 They issued forth and came to meet their friends, and all made great joy of each other. The barons quartered themselves in a very good city that lay at the foot of the castle, and had aforetime besieged the castle. Then said the barons that they had often heard tell that the Emperor Baldwin had died in Johannizza's prison, but that they did not believe it. Renier of Trit, however, told them of a truth that the emperor was dead, and then they believed it. Greatly did many then grieve; alas I if only their grief had not been beyond remedy I So they lay that night in the city; and on the morrow they departed, and abandoned Stanimac. They rode for two days., and on the third they came to the camp, below the castle of Moniac, that lies on the river Arta, where Henry, the Emperor's brother, was waiting for them. Greatly did those of the host rejoice over Renier of Trit, who had thus been rescued from durance, and great was the credit given to those who had brought him back, for they had gone for him in great peril. 117 HENRY CROWNED EMPEROR - JOHANNIZZA RAVAGES THE COUNTRY AGAIN - THE EMPEROR MARCHES AGAINST HIM The barons now resolved that they would go to Constantinople, and crown Henry, the brother of the Emperor Baldwin as emperor, and leave in the country Vemas, and all the Greeks of the land, together with forty knights, whom Henry, the Regent of the empire, would leave with him. So Henry, the Regent of the empire, and the other barons, went towards Constantinople, and they rode from day to day till they came thither, and right well were they received. They crowned Henry as emperor with great joy and great honour in the church of St. Sophia, on the Sunday (20th August) after the festival of our Lady St. Mary, in August. And this was in the year of the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ twelve hundred and six. Now when Johannizza, the King of Wallachia and Bulgaria, heard that the emperor had been crowned in Constantinople, and that Vemas had remained in the land of Adrianople and Demotica, he collected together as large a force as he could. And Vemas had not rebuilt the walls of Demotica where they had been breached by Johannizza with his petraries and mangonels, and he had set but a weak garrison therein. So Johannizza marched on Demotica, and took it, and destroyed it, and rased the walls to the ground, and overran the whole country, and took men, women, and children for a prey, and wrought devastation. Then did those in Adrianople beseech the Emperor Henry to succour them, seeing that Demotica had been lost in such cruel sort. Then did the Emperor Henry summon as many people as he could, and issued from Constantinople, and rode day by day towards Adrianople, with all his forces in order. And Johannizza, the King of Wallachia, who was in the land, when he heard that the emperor was coming, drew back into his own land. And the Emperor Henry rode forward till he came to Adrianople, and he encamped outside the city in a meadow. Then came the Greeks of the land, and told him that johanriizza, the King of Wallachia, was carrying off men and women and cattle, and that he had destroyed Demotica, and wasted the country round; and that he was still within a 118 day's march. The emperor settled that he would follow after, and do battle-if so be that Johannizza would abide his coming-and deliver the men and women who were being led away captive. So he rode after Johannizza, and Johannizza retired as the emperor advanced, and the emperor followed him for four days. Then they came to a city called Veroi. When those who were in the city saw the host of the Emperor Henry approaching, they fled into the mountains and abandoned the city. And the emperor came with all his host, and encamped before the city, and found it well furnished with corn and meat, and such other things as were needful. So they sojourned there for two days, and the emperor caused his men to overrun the surrounding country, and they obtained a large booty in beeves and cows and buffaloes, and otl-ler beasts in very great plenty. Then he departed from Veroi with all his booty, and rode to another city, a day's journey distant, called Blisnon. And as the other Greeks had abandoned Veroi, so did the dwellers in Blisnon abandon their city; and he found it furnished with all things necessary, and quartered himself there. THE EMPEROR MEETS JOHANNIZZA, AND RECAPTURES HIS PRISONERS Then came tidings that in a certain valley, three leagues distant from the host, were the men and women whom ohannizza was leading away captive, together with 9.11 his plunder, and all his chariots. Then did Henry appoint that the Greeks from Adrianople and Demotica should go and recover the captives and the plunder, two battalions of knights going with them; and as had been arranged, so was this done on the morrow. The command of the one battalion was given to Eustace, the brother of the Emperor Henry of Constantinople, and the command of the other to Macaire of Sainte-Menehould. So they rode, they and the Greeks, till they came to the valley of which they had been told; and there they found the captives. And Johannizza's men engaged the Emperor Henry's men, and men and horses were killed and wounded On either side; but by the goodness of God, the Franks had 119 the advantage, and rescued the captives, and caused them to turn again, and brought them away. And you must know that this was a mighty deliverance; for the captives numbered full twenty thousand men, women, and children; and there were full three thousand chariots laden with their clothes and baggage, to say nothing of other booty in good quantity. The line of the captives, as they came to the camp, was two great leagues in length, and they reached the camp that night. Then was the Emperor Henry greatly rejoiced, and all the other barons; and they had the captives lodged apart, and well guarded, with their goods, so that they lost not one pennyworth of what they possessed. On the morrow the Emperor Henry rested for the sake of the people he had delivered. And on the day after he left that country, and rode day by day till he came to Adrianople. There he set free the men and women he had rescued; and each one went whithersoever he listed, to the land where he was bom, or to any other place. The booty, of which he had great plenty, was divided in due shares among the host. So the Emperor Henry sojoumed there five days, and then rode to the city of Demotica, to see how far it had been destroyed, and whether it could again be fortified. He encamped before the city, and saw, both he and his barons, that in the state in which it then was, it were not well to refortify it. PROJECTED MARRIAGE BETWEEN THE EMPEROR AND THE DAUGHTER OF BONIFACE - THE CRUSADERS RAVAGE THE LANDS OF JOHANNIZZA Then came to the camp, as envoy, a baron, Otho of La Roche by name, belonging to the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat. He came to speak of a marriage that had been spoken of aforetime between the daughter of Boniface, the Marquis of Montferrat, and the Emperor Henry; and brought tidings that the lady had come from Lombardy, whence her father had sent to summon her, and that she was now at Salonika. Then did the emperor take council, and it was decided that the marriage should be ratified on either side. So the envoy, Otho of La Roche, returned to Salonika. The emperor had reassembled his men, who had gone to place in safe holding the booty taken at Veroi. And he marched day by day from Adrianople till he came to the land 120 of Johannizza, the King of Wallachia and Bulgaria. They came to a city called Ferme, and took it, and entered in, and won much booty. They remained there for three days, and overran all the land, got very much spoil, and destroyed a city called Aquilo. On the fourth day they departed from Ferme, which was a city fair and well situated, with hot water springs for bathing, the finest in the world; and the emperor caused the city to be burned and destroyed, and they carried away much spoil, in cattle and goods. Then they rode day by day till they came back to the city of Adrianople; and thev sojoumed in the land till the feast of All Saints (1st November 1206), when they could no longer carry on the war because of the winter. So Henry and all his barons, who were much aweary of campaigning, turned their faces towards Constantinople; and he left at Adrianople, among the Greeks, a man of his named Peter of Radinghem, with ten knights. THE EMPEROR RESUMES THE WAR AGAINST THEODORE LASCARIS At that time Theodore Lascaris, who held the land on the other side of the straits towards Turkey, was at truce with the Emperor Henry; but that truce he had not kept well, having broken and violated it. So the emperor held council, and sent to the other side of the straits, to the city of Piga, Peter of Bracieux, to whom land had been assigned in those parts, and with him Payen of Orléans, and Anseau of Cayeux, and Eustace, the emperor's brother, and a great part of his best men to the number of seven score knights. These began to make war in very grim and earnest fashion against Theodore Lascaris, and greatly wasted his land. They marched to a land called Skiza, which was surrounded by the sea except on one side. And in old days the way of entry had been defended with walls and towers, and moats, but these were now decayed. So the host of the French entered in, and Peter of Bracieux, to whom the land had been devised, began to restore the defences, and built two castles, and made two fortified ways of entry. From thence they overran the land of Lascaris, and gained much booty and cattle, and brought such booty and cattle into their island: Theodore Lascaris, on the other hand, harked back upon 121 Skiza, so that there were frequent battles and skirmishes, and losses on the one side and on the other; and the war in those parts was fierce and perilous. Now let us leave speaking of those who were at Skiza, and speak of Thierri of Loos, who was seneschal, and to whom Nicomedia should have belonged; and Nicomedia lay a day's journey from Nice the Great, the capital of the land of Theodore Lascaris. Thierri then went thither, with a great body of the emperor's men, and found that the castle had been destroyed. So he enclosed and fortified the church of St. Sophia, which was very large and fair, and maintained the war in that place. ADVANTAGES OBTAINED BY BONIFACE - MARRIAGE OF HIS DAUGHTER WITH THE EMPEROR At that time the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat departed from Salonika, and went to Seres, which Johannizza had destroyed; and he rebuilt it; and afterwards rebuilt a castle called Drama in the valley of Philippi. All the country round about surrendered to him, and came under his rule; and he wintered in the land. Meanwhile, so much time had gone by, that Christmas was now past. Then came messengers from the marquis to the emperor at Constantinople to say that the marquis had sent his daughter in a galley to the city of Abydos. So the Emperor Henry sent Geoffry the Marshal of Roumania and Champagne, and Miles the Brabant, to bring the lady; and these rode day by day till they came to Abydos. They found the lady, who was very good and fair, and saluted her on behalf of their lord Henry, the emperor, and brought her to Constantinople in great honour. So the Emperor Henry was wedded to her in the Church of St. Sophia, on the Sunday after the feast of our Lady St. Mary Candlemas (4th February I207), with great joy and in great pomp; and they both wore a crown; and high were the marriage-feastings in the palace of Bucoleon. Thus, as you have just heard, was the marriage celebrated between the emperor and the daughter of the Marquis Boniface, Agnes the empress by name. THEODORE LASCARIS FORMS AN ALLIANCE WITH JOHANNIZZA Theodore Lascaris, who was warring against the Emperor Henry, took messengers and sent them to Johannizza, the King of Wallachia and Bulgaria. And he advised Johannizza that all the forces of the Emperor Henry were fighting against him (Lascaris) on the other side of the straits towards Turkey; that the emperor was in Constantinople with but very few people; and that now was the time for vengeance, inasmuch as he himself would be attacking the emperor on the one side, and Johannizza on the other, and the emperor had so few men that he would not be able to defend himself against both. Now Johannizza had already engaged a great host of Comans, who were on their way to join his host; and had collected together as large a force of Wallachians and Bulgarians as ever he could. And so much time had now gone by, that it was the beginning of Lent (7th March 1207). Macaire of Sainte-Menehould had begun to build a castle at Charax, which lies on a gulf of the sea, six leagues from Nicomedia, towards Constantinople. And William of Sains began to build another castle at Cibotos, that lies on the gulf of Nicomedia, on the other side, towards Nice. And you must know that the Emperor Henry had as much as he could do near Constantinople; as also the barons who were in the land. And well does Geoffry of Villehardouin, the Marshal of Champagne and Roumania, who is dictating this work, bear witness, that never at any time were people so distracted and oppressed by war; this was by reason that the host were scattered in so many places. SIEGE OF ADRIANOPLE BY JOHANNIZZA - SIEGE OF SKIZA AND CIBOTOS BY LASCARIS Then Johannizza left Wallachia with all his hosts, and with a great host of Comans who joined themselves to him, and entered Roumania. And the Comans overran the country up to the gates of Constantinople; and he himself besieged Adrianople, and erected there thirty-three great petraries, which hurled stones against the walls and the towers. And inside Adrianople were only the Greeks and 123 Peter of Radinghem, who had been set there by the emperor, with ten knights. Then the Greeks and the Latins together sent to tell the Emperor Henry how Johannizza had besieged them, and prayed for succour. Much was the emperor distraught when he heard this; for his forces on the other side of the straits were so scattered, and were everywhere so hard pressed that they could do no more than they were doing, while he himself had but few men in Constantinople. None the less he undertook to take the field with as many men as he could collect, in the Easter fortnight; and he sent word to Skiza, where most of his people were, that they should come to him. So these began to come to him by sea; Eustace, the brother of the Emperor Henry, and Anseau of Cayeux, and the main part of their men, and thus only Peter of Bracieux, and Payen of Orléans, with but few men, remained in Skiza. When Theodore Lascaris heard tidings that Adrianople was besieged, and that the Emperor Henry, through utter need, was recalling his people, and did not know which way to tum-whether to this side or to that-so heavily was he oppressed by the war, then did Lascaris with the greater zeal gather together all the people he could,, and pitched his tents and pavilions before the gates of Skiza; and many were the battles fought before Skiza, some lost and some won. And when Theodore Lascaris saw that there were few people remaining in the city, he took a great part of his host, and such ships as he could collect on the sea, and sent them to the castle of Cibotos, which William of Sains was fortifying; and they set siege to the castle by sea and land, on the Saturday in mid-Lent (31st March 1207). Within were forty knights, very good men, and Macaire of Sainte-Menehould was their chief; and their castle was as yet but little fortified, so that their foes could come at them with swords and lances. The enemy attacked them by land and by sea very fiercely; and the assault lasted during the whole of Saturday, and our people defended themselves very well. And this book bears witness that never did fifty knights defend themselves at greater disadvantage against such odds. And well may this appear, for of the knights that were there, all were wounded save five only; and one was killed, who was nephew to Miles the Brabant, and his name was Giles. 124 THE EMPEROR ATTACKS THE FLEET OF THEODORE LASCARIS, AND RESCUES CIBOTOS Before this assault began, on the Saturday morning, there came a messenger flying to Constantinople. He found the Emperor Henry in the palace of Blachernae, sitting at meat, and spoke to him thus: "Sire, be it known to you that those at Cibotos are being attacked by land and sea; and if you do not speedily deliver them, they will be taken, and but dead men." With the emperor were Conon of Béthune, and Geoffry the Marshal of Champagne, and Miles the Brabant, and but very few people. And they held a council, and the council was but short, and the emperor went down to the shore, and entered into a galleon; and each one was to take ship such as he could find. And it was proclaimed throughout the city that all were to follow the emperor in the utter need wherein he stood, to go and rescue his men, seeing that without help they were but lost. Then might you have seen the whole city of Constantinople all a-swarrn with Venetians and Pisans and other seafaring folk, running to their ships, helterskelter and pell-mell; and with them entered into the ships the knights, fully armed; and whosoever was first ready, he first left port to go after the emperor. So they went rowing hard all the evening, as long as the light lasted, and all through the night till the dawn of the following day. And the emperor had used such diligence, that a little after sun-rising he came in sight of Cibotos, and of the host surrounding it by sea and land. And those who were within the castle had not slept that night, but had kept guard through the whole night, however sick or wounded they might be, as men who expected nothing but death. The emperor saw that the Greeks were close to the walls and about to assault the city. Now he himself had but few of his people with him-among them were Geoffry the Marshal in another ship, and Miles the Brabant, and certain Pisans, and other knights, so that he had some sixteen ships great and small, while on the other side there were full sixty. Nevertheless they saw that if they waited for their people, and suffered the Greeks to assault Cibotos, then those within 125 must be all killed or taken; and when they saw this they decided to sail against the enemy's ships. They sailed thitherward therefore in line; and all those on board the ships were fully armed, and with their helms laced. And when the Greeks, who were about to attack the castle, saw us coming, they perceived that help was at hand for the besieged, and they avoided the castle, and came to meet us; and all this great host, both horse and foot, drew up on the shore. And the Greeks on ship-board [The meaning here is a little obscure in the original ] when they saw that the emperor and his people meant to attack them in any case, drew back towards those on shore, so that the latter might give them help with bows and darts. So the emperor held them close with his seventeen ships, till the shouts of those coming from Constantinople began to reach him; and when the night fell so many had come up that the Franks were everywhere in force upon the sea; and they lay all armed during the night, and cast anchor. And they settled that as soon as they saw the day, they would go and do battle with the enemy on the shore, and also seize their ships. But when it came to about midnight, the Greeks dragged all their ships to land, and set fire to them, and burned them all, and broke up their camp, and went away flying. The Emperor Henry and his host were right glad of the victory that God had given them,,and that they had thus been able to succour their people. And when it came to be morning, the emperor and his barons went to the castle of Cibotos, and found those who were therein very sick, and for the most part sore wounded. And the emperor and his people looked at the castle, and saw that it was so weak as not to be worth the holding. So they gathered all their people into the ships, and left the castle and abandoned it. Thus did the Emperor Henry return to Constantinople. JOHANNIZZA RAISES THE SIEGE OF ADRIANOPLE Johannizza, the king of Wallachia, who had besieged Adrianople, gave himself no rest, for his petraries, of which he had many, cast stones night and day against the walls and towers, and damaed the walls and towers very greatly. And he set his sappers to mine the walls, and made many 126 assaults. And well did those who were within, both Greeks and Latins, maintain themselves, and often did they beg the Emperor Henry to succour them, and wam him that, if he did not succour them, they were utterly undone. The emperor was much distraught; for when he wished to go and succour his people at Adrianople on the one side, then Theodore Lascaris pressed upon him so straitly on the other side, that of necessity he was forced to draw back. So Johannizza remained during the whole month of April (1207) before Adrianople; and he came so near to taking it that in two places he beat down the walls and towers to the ground, and his men fought hand to hand, with swords and lances, against those who were within. Also he made assaults in force, and the besieged defended themselves well; and there were many killed and wounded on one side and on the other. As it pleases God that adventures should be ordered, so it befell that the Comans who had overrun the land, and gained much booty, and returned to the camp before Adrianople, with all their spoils, now said they would remain with Johannizza no longer, but go back to their own land. Thus the Comans abandoned Johannizza. And without them he dared not remain before Adrianople. So he departed from before the city, and left it. And you must know that this was held to be a great miracle: that the siege of a city so near to the taking should be abandoned, and by a man possessed of such power. But as God wills, so do events befall. Those in Adrianople made no delay in begging the emperor, for the love of God, to come to them as soon as he could; for sooth it was that if Johannizza, the King of Wallachia returned, they would all be killed or taken. SKIZA AGAIN BESIEGED BY THEODORE LASCARIS - THE EMPEROR DELIVERS THE CITY The emperor, with as many men as he possessed, had prepared to go to Adrianople, when tidings came, very grievous, that Escurion, who was admiral of the galleys of Theodore Lascaris, had entered with seventeen galleys into the straits of Abydos, in the channel of St. George, and come before Skiza, where Peter of Bracieux then was, and Payen of 127 Orléans; and that the said Escurion was besieging the city by sea, while Theodore Lascaris was besieging it by land. Moreover, the people of the land of Skiza had rebelled against Peter of Bracieux, as also those of Marmora, and had wrought him great harm, and killed many of his people. When these tidi . ngs came to Constantinople, they were greatly dismayed. Then did the Emperor Henry take council with his men, and his barons, and the Venetians also; and they said that if they did not succour Peter of Bracieux, and Payen of Orléans, they were but dead men, and the land would be lost. So they armed fourteen galleys in all diligence, and set in them the Venetians of most note, and all the barons of the emperor. In one galley entered Conon of Béthune and his people; in another Geoffry of Villehardouin and his people; in the third Macaire of Sainte-Menehould and his people; in the fourth Miles the Brabant in the fifth Anscau of Cayeux; in the sixth Thierri of Loos, who was seneschal of Roumania; m the seventh William of Perchoi; and in the eighth Eustace the Emperor's brother. Thus did the Emperor Henry put into all these galleys the best people that he had; and when they left the port of Constantinople, well did all say that never had galleys been better armed, nor manned with better men. And thus, for this time, the march on Adrianople was again put off. Those who were in the galleys sailed down the straits, right towards Skiza. How Escurion, the admiral of Theodore Lascaris' galleys, heard of it, I know not; but he abandoned Skiza, and went away, and fled down the straits. And the others chased him two days and two nights, beyond the straits of Abydos, forty miles. And when they saw they could not come up with him, they turned back, and came to Skiza, and found there Peter of Bracieux and Payen of Orléans; and Theodore Lascaris had dislodged from before the city and repaired to his own land. Thus was Skiza relieved, as you have just heard; and those in the galleys turned back to Constantinople, and prepared once more to march on Adrianople. 128 THE EMPEROR TWICE DELIVERS NICOMEDIA, BESIEGED BY THEODORE LASCARIS Theodore Lascaris sent the most part of his force into the land of Nicomedia. And the people of Thierri of Loos, who had fortified the church of St. Sophia, and were therein, besought their lord and the emperor to come to their relief; for if they received no help they could not hold out, especially as they had no provisions. Through sheer distress and sore need, the Emperor Henry and his people agreed that they must once more abandon thought of going to Adrianople, and cross the straits of St. George, to the Turkish side, with as many people as they could collect, and succour Nicomedia. And when the people of Theodore Lascaris heard that the emperor was coming, they avoided the land, and retreated towards Nice the Great. And when the emperor knew of it, he took council, and it was decided that Thierri of Loos, the seneschal of Roumania, should abide in Nicomedia, with all his knights, and all his sergeants, to guard the land; and Macaire of Sainte-Menehould should abide at Charax, and William of Perchoi in Skiza; and each defend the land where he abode. Then did the Emperor Henry, and the remainder of his people return to Constantinople, and prepare once again to go towards Adrianople. And while he was so preparing, Thierri of Loos the seneschal, who was in Nicomedia, and William of Perchoi, and all their people, went out foraging on a certain day. And the people of Theodore Lascaris knew of it, and surprised them, and fell upon them. Now the people of Theodore Lascaris were very many, and our people very few. So the battle began, and they fought hand to hand, and before very long the few were not able to stand against the many. Thierri of Loos did right well, as also his people; he was twice struck down, and by main strength his men remounted him. And William of Perchoi was also struck down, and remounted and rescued. But numbers hemmed them in too sore, and the Franks were discomfited. There was taken Thierri of Loos, wounded in the face, and in peril of death. There, too, were most of his people taken, for few escaped. William of Perchoi fled on a hackney, wounded in the hand. 129 Those that escaped from the discomfiture rallied in the church of St. Sophia. He who dictates this history heard blame attached in this affair-whether rightly or wrongly he knows not-to a certain knight named Anseau of Remi, who was liegeman of Thierri of Loos the seneschal, and chief of his men; and who abandoned him in the fray. Then did those who had returned to the church of St. Sophia in Nicomedia, viz. William of Perchoi and Anseau of Remi, take a messenger, and send him flying to Constantinople, to the Emperor Henry; and they told the emperor what had befallen, how the seneschal had been taken with his men; how they themselves were besieged in the church of St. Sophia, in Nicomedia, and how they had food for no more than five days; and they told him he must know of a certainty that if he did not succour them they must be killed or taken. The emperor, as one hearing a cry of distress, passed over the straits of St. George, he and his people, each as best he could, and pell-mell, to go to the relief of those in Nicomedia. And so the march to Adrianople was put off once more. When the emperor had passed over the straits of St. George, he set his troops in array, and rode day by day till he came to Nicomedia. When the people of Theodore Lascaris, and his brothers, who formed the host, heard thereof, they drew back, and passed over the mountain on the other side, towards Nice. And the emperor encamped by Nicomedia in a very fair field that lay beside the river on this side of the mountain. He had his tents and pavilions pitched; and caused his men to overrun and harry the land, because the people had rebelled when they heard that Thierri of Loos, the seneschal, was taken; and the emperor's men captured much cattle and many prisoners. TRUCE WITH THEODORE LASCARIS - THE EMPEROR INVADES THE LANDS OF JOHANNIZZA The Emperor Henry sojoumed after this manner for five days in the meadow by Nicomedia. And while he was thus sojourning, Theodore Lascaris took messengers, and sent them to him, asking him to make a truce for two years, on condition that the emperor would suffer him to demolish 130 Skiza and the fortress of the church of St. Sophia of Nicomedia, while he, on his side, would yield up all the prisoners taken in the last victory, or at other times of whom he had a great many in his land. Now the emperor took council with his people; and they said that they could not maintain two wars at the same time, and that it was better to suffer loss as proposed than suffer the loss of Adrianople, and the land on the other side of the straits; and moreover that they.would (by agreeing to this truce) cause division between their enemies, viz. Johannizza, the King of Wallachia and Bulgaria and Theodore Lascaris who were now friends, and helped one another in the war. The matter was thus settled and agreed to. Then the Emperor Henry summoned Peter of Bracieux from Skiza; and he came to him; and the Emperor Henry so wrought with him that he gave up Skiza into his hands, and the emperor delivered it to Theodore Lascaris to be demolished, as also the church of St. Sophia of Nicomedia. So was the truce established, and so were the fortresses demolished. Thierri of Loos was given up, and all the other prisoners. Then the Emperor Henry repaired to Constantinople, and undertook once more to go to Adrianople with as many men as he could collect. He assembled his host at Selymbria; and so much time had already passed that this did not take place till after the feast of St. John, in June (1207). And he rode day by day till he came to Adrianople, and encamped in the fields before the city. And those within the city, who had greatly desired his coming, went out to meet him in procession, and received him very gladly.. And all the Greeks of the land came with them. The emperor remained only one day before the city to see all the damage that Johannizza had done to the walls and towers, with mines and petraries; and these had worked great havoc to the city. And on the morrow he departed', and marched towards the country of Johannizza, and so marched for four days. On the fifth day he came to the foot of the mountain of Wallachia, to a city called Euloi, which Johannizza had newly repeopled with his folk. And when the people of the land saw the host coming, they abandoned the city, and fled into the mountains. 131 THE E MPEROR'S FORAGERS SUFFER LOSS The Emperor Henry and the host of the French encamped before the city; and the foraging parties overran the land and captured oxen, and cows, and beeves in great plenty and other beasts. And those from Adrianople, who had brought their chariots with them, and were poor and illfurnished with food, loaded their chariots with corn and other grain; and they found also provisions in plenty and loaded with them, in great quantities, the other chariots that they had captured. So the host sojoumed there for three days; and every day the foraging parties went foraging throughout the land; but the land was full of mountains, and strong defiles, and the host lost many foragers, who adventured themselves madly. In the end, the Emperor Henry sent Anscau of Cayeux to guard the foragers, and Eustace his brother, and Thierri of Flanders, his nephew, and Walter of Escomai, and John Bliaud. Their four battalions went to guard the foragers, and entered into a land rough and mountainous. And when their people had overrun the land, and wished to return, they found the defiles very well guarded. For the Wallachians of the country had assembled, and fought against them, and did them great hurt, both to men and horses. Hardly were our men put to it to escape discomfiture; and the knights had, of necessity, to dismount and go on foot. But by God's help they returned to the camp, though not without great loss and damage. On the morrow the Emperor Henry, and the host of the French departed thence, and marched day by day till they came to Adrianople; and they stored therein the corn and other provisions that they brought with them. The emperor sojourned in the field before the city some fifteen days. HOMAGE RENDERED BY BONIFACE TO THE EMPEROR, AND BY GEOFFRY OF VILLEHARDOUIN TO BONIFACE At that time Boniface, the Marquis of Montferrat, who was at Seres, which he had fortified, rode forth as far as Messinopolis, and all the land surrendered to his will. Then he took messengers, and sent them to the Emperor Henry, and told him that he would right willingly speak with him 132 by the river that runs below Cypsela. Now they two had never been able to speak together face to face since the conquest of the land, for so many enemies lay between them that the one had never been able to come to the other. And when the emperor and those of his councilheardthat themarquis Boniface was at Messinopolis, they rejoiced greatly; and the emperor sent back word by the messengers that he would speak with the marquis on the day appointed. So the emperor went thitherward, and he left Conon of Bethune to guard the land near Adrianople, with one hundred knights. And they came on the set day to the place of meeting in a very fair field, near the city of Cypsela. The emperor came from one side, and the marquis from the other, and they met with very great joy; nor is that to be wondered at, seeing they had not, of a long time, beheld one another. And the marquis asked the emperor for tidings of his daughter Agnes; and the emperor told him she was with child, and the marquis was glad thereof and rejoiced. Then did the marquis become liegeman to the emperor, and held from him his land, as he had done from the Emperor Baldwin, his brother. And the marquis gave to Geoffry of Villehardouin, Marshal of Roumania and Champagne, the city of Messinopolis, and all its appurtenances, or else that of Seres, whichever he liked best; and the Marshal became his liegeman, save in so far as he owed fealty to the emperor of Constantinople. They sojourned thus in that field for two days, in great joy, and said that, as God had granted that they should come together, so might they yet again defeat their enemies. And they made agreement to meet at the end of the summer, in the month of October, with all their forces, in the meadow before the city of Adrianople, and make war against the King of Wallachia. So they separated joyous and well content. The marquis went to Messinopolis, and the Emperor Henry towards Constantinople. BONIFACE IS KILLED IN A BATTLE AGAINST THE BULGARIANS When the marquis had come to Messinopolis, he did not remain there more than five days before he rode forth, by the advice of the Greeks of the land, on an expedition to the mountain of Messinopolis, which was distant a long day's 133 journey. And when he had been through the land, and was about to depart, the Bulgarians of the land collected and saw that the marquis had but a small force with him. So they came from all parts and attacked the rear-guard. And when the marquis heard the shouting, he leapt on a horse, all unarmed as he was, with a lance in his hand. And when he came together, where the Bulgarians were fighting with the rear-guard, hand to hand, he ran in upon them, and drove them a great way back. Then was the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat wounded with an arrow, in the thick of the arm, beneath the shoulder, mortally, and he began to lose blood. And when his men saw it, they began to be dismayed, and to lose heart, and to bear themselves badly. Those who were round the marquis held him up, and he was losing much blood; and he began to faint. And when his men perceived that he could give them no farther help, they were the more dismayed, and began to desert him. So were they discomfited by misadventure; and those who remained by him-and they were but few-were killed. The head of the Marquis Boniface of Montferrat was cut off, and the people of the land sent it to Johannizza; and that was one of the greatest joys that ever Johannizza had. Alas! what a dolorous mishap for the Emperor Henry, and for all the Latins of the land of Roumania, to lose such a man by such a misadventure-one of the best barons and most liberal, and one of the best knights in the world! And this misadventure befell in the year of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ, twelve hundred and seven. END 
32271	----	Transcriber's Notes: 1. Page scan source: http://www.archive.org/details/astruggleforrom00dahngoog 2. The diphthong OE and oe are represented by [OE] and [oe]. A STRUGGLE FOR ROME. BY FELIX DAHN. _T R A N S L A T E D F R O M T H E G E R M A N_ BY LILY WOLFFSOHN. "If there be anything more powerful than Fate, It is the courage which bears it undismayed." GEIBEL. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON. 1878. [_All Rights Reserved._] PREFACE. These pictures of the sixth century originated in my studies for the following works: "The Kings of the Goths," vol. ii., iii., iv. Munich and Würzburg, 1862-66. "Procopius of Cæsarea:" a contribution to the historiography of the migration of nations and the decay of the Roman Empire. Berlin, 1865. By referring to these works, the reader may distinguish the details and changes which the romance has added to the reality. In history the events here described filled a period of almost thirty years' duration. From reasons easily understood, it was necessary to shorten, or at least to disguise, this long interval. The character of the Roman hero of the story, Cethegus Cæsarius, is a pure invention. That such a person existed is, however, known. The work was begun at Munich in 1859, continued at Ravenna, Italy, and concluded at Königsberg in 1876. FELIX DAHN. Königsberg: _January_, 1876. A STRUGGLE FOR ROME. BOOK I. THEODORIC. "Dietericus de Berne, de quo cantant rustici usque hodie." CHAPTER I. It was a sultry summer night of the year five hundred and twenty-six, A.D. Thick clouds lay low over the dark surface of the Adrea, whose shores and waters were melted together in undistinguishable gloom; only now and then a flash of distant lightning lit up the silent city of Ravenna. At unequal intervals the wind swept through the ilexes and pines on the range of hills which rise at some distance to the west of the town, and which were once crowned by a temple of Neptune. At that time already half ruined, it has now almost completely disappeared, leaving only the most scanty traces. It was quiet on the bosky heights; only sometimes a piece of rock, loosened by storms, clattered down the stony declivity, and at last splashed into the marshy waters of the canals and ditches which belted the entire circle of the sea-fortress; or a weather-beaten slab slipped from the tabled roof of the old temple and fell breaking on to the marble steps--forebodings of the threatened fall of the whole building. But these dismal sounds seemed to be unnoticed by a man who sat immovable on the second step of the flight which led into the temple, leaning his back against the topmost step and looking silently and fixedly across the declivity in the direction of the city below. He sat thus motionless, but waiting eagerly, for a long time. He heeded not that the wind drove the heavy drops which began to fell into his face, and rudely worried the full long beard that flowed down to his iron belt, almost entirely covering his broad breast with shining white hair. At last he rose and descended several of the marble steps: "They come," said he. The light of a torch which rapidly advanced from the city towards the temple became visible; then quick and heavy footsteps were heard, and shortly after three men ascended the flight of steps. "Hail, Master Hildebrand, son of Hilding!" cried the advancing torch-bearer, as soon as he reached the row of columns of the Pronaos or antehall, in which time had made some gaps. He spoke in the Gothic tongue, and had a peculiarly melodious voice. He carried his torch in a sort of lantern--beautiful Corinthian bronze-work on the handle, transparent ivory forming the four-sided screen and the arched and ornamentally-perforated lid--and lifting it high, put it into the iron ring that held together the shattered centre column. The white light fell upon a face beautiful as that of Apollo, with laughing light-blue eyes; his fair hair was parted in the middle of his forehead into two long and flowing tresses, which fell right and left upon his shoulders. His mouth and nose, finely, almost softly chiselled, were of perfect form; the first down of a bright golden beard covered his pleasant lip and gently-dimpled chin. He wore only white garments--a war-mantle of fine wool, held up on the right shoulder by a clasp in the form of a griffin, and a Roman tunic of soft silk, both embroidered with a stripe of gold. White leather straps fastened the sandals to his feet, and reached, laced cross-wise, to his knees. Two broad gold rings encircled his naked and shining white arms. And as he stood reposing after his exertion, his right hand clasping a tall lance which served him both for staff and weapon, his left resting on his hip, looking down upon his slower companions, it seemed as if there had again entered the grey old temple some youthful godlike form of its happiest days. The second of the new-comers had, in spite of a general family likeness, an expression totally different from that of the torch-bearer. He was some years older, his form was stouter and broader. Low down upon his bull-neck grew his short, thick, and curly brown hair. He was of almost gigantic height and strength. There were wanting in his face the sunny shimmer, the trusting joy and hope which illumined the features of his younger brother. Instead of these, there was in his whole appearance an expression of bear-like strength and bear-like courage; he wore a shaggy wolf-skin, the jaws of which shaded his head like a cowl, a simple woollen doublet beneath, and on his right shoulder he carried a short and heavy club made of the hard root of an oak. The third comer followed the others with a cautious step; a middle-aged man with a dignified and prudent expression of countenance. He wore the steel helmet, the sword, and the brown war-mantle of the Gothic footmen. His straight light-brown hair was cut square across the forehead--an ancient Germanic mode of wearing the hair, which one often sees represented on Roman triumphal columns, and which has been preserved by the German peasant to this day. The regular features of his open face, his grey and steady eyes, were full of reflective manliness and sober repose. When he, too, had reached the cella of the temple, and had greeted the old man, the torch-bearer cried in an eager voice: "Well, old Master Hildebrand, a fine adventure must it be to which thou hast bidden us on such an inhospitable night, and in this wilderness of art and nature! Speak--what is it?" Instead of replying, the old man turned to the last comer and asked: "Where is the fourth whom I invited?" "He wished to go alone. He shunned us all. Thou knowest his manner well." "There he comes!" cried the beautiful youth, pointing to another side of the hill. And, in fact, a man of very peculiar appearance now drew near. The full glare of the torch illumined a ghastly-pale face that seemed almost bloodless. Long and shining black locks, like dark snakes, hung dishevelled from his uncovered head. Arched black brows and long lashes shaded large and melancholy dark eyes, full of repressed fire. A sharply-cut eagle nose bent towards the fine and smoothly-shaven mouth, around which resigned grief had traced deep lines. His form and bearing were still young; but pain seemed to have prematurely ripened his soul. He wore a coat of mail and greaves of black steel, and in his right hand gleamed a battle-axe with a long lance-like shaft. He merely greeted the others with a nod of the head, and placing himself behind the old man, who now bade them all four step close to the pillar on which the torch was fixed, began in a suppressed voice: "I appointed you to meet me here to listen to earnest words, which must be spoken, unheard, to faithful men. I have sought for months in all the nation, and have chosen you. You are the right men. When you have heard me, you will yourselves feel that you must be silent about this night's meeting." The third comer, he with the steel helmet, looked at the old man with earnest eyes. "Speak," said he quietly, "we hear and are silent. Of what wilt thou speak to us?" "Of our people; of this kingdom of the Goths, which stands close to an abyss!" "An abyss!" eagerly cried the fair youth. His gigantic brother smiled and lifted his head attentively. "Yes, an abyss," repeated the old man; "and you alone can hold and save it." "May Heaven pardon thee thy words!" interrupted the fair youth with vivacity. "Have we not our King Theodoric, whom even his enemies call the Great; the most magnificent hero, the wisest prince in the world? Have we not this smiling land Italia, with all its treasures? What upon earth can compare with the kingdom of the Goths?" The old man, without heeding his questions, continued: "Listen to me. The greatness and worth of King Theodoric, my beloved master and my dear son, are best known by Hildebrand, son of Hilding. More than fifty years ago I carried him in these arms, a struggling boy, to his father, and said: 'There is an offspring of a strong race--he will be a joy to thee.' And when he grew up I cut for him his first arrow, and washed his first wound. I accompanied him to the golden city of Byzantium, and guarded him body and soul. When he fought for this lovely land, I went before him, foot by foot, and held the shield over him in thirty battles. He may possibly, since then, have found more learned advisers and friends than his old master-at-arms, but hardly wiser, and surely not more faithful. Long ere the sun shone upon thee, my young falcon, I had experienced a thousand times how strong was his arm, how sharp his eye, how clear his head, how terrible he could be in battle, how friendly over the cup, and how superior he was even to the Greekling in shrewdness. But the old Eagle's wings have become heavy. His battle-years weigh upon him; for he and you, and all your race, cannot bear years like I and my play-fellows; he lies sick in soul and body, mysteriously sick, in his golden hall down there in the Raven-town. The physicians say that though his arm be yet strong, any beat of his heart may kill him with lightning-like rapidity, and with any setting sun he may journey down to the dead. And who is his heir? who will then uphold this kingdom? Amalaswintha, his daughter; and Athalaric, his grandson; a woman and a child!" "The Princess is wise," said he with the helmet and the sword. "Yes, she writes Greek to the Emperor, and speaks Latin with the pious Cassiodorus. I doubt that she even thinks in Gothic. Woe to us, if she should hold the rudder in a storm!" "But I see no signs of storm, old man," laughed the torch-bearer, and shook his locks. "From whence will it blow? The Emperor is again reconciled, the Bishop of Rome is installed by the King himself, the Frank princes are his nephews, the Italians are better off under our shield than ever before. I see no danger anywhere." "The Emperor Justinus is only a weak old man," said he of the sword, assentingly. "I know him." "But his nephew, who will soon be his successor, and is already his right arm--knowest thou him? Unfathomable as the night and false as the sea is Justinian! I know him well, and fear that which he meditates. I accompanied the last embassy to Byzantium. He came to our camp; he thought me drunk--the fool! he little knows what Hilding's child can drink!--and he questioned me about everything which must be known in order to undo us. Well, he got the right answer from me! But I know as well as I know my name, that this man will again get possession of Italy; and he will not leave in it even the footprint of a Goth!" "If he can," grumblingly put in the brother of the fair youth. "Right, friend Hildebad, if he can. And he can do much. Byzantium can do much." The other shrugged his shoulder "Knowest thou _how_ much?" asked the old man angrily. "For twelve long years our great King struggled with Byzantium and did not prevail. But at that time thou wast not yet born," he added more quietly. "Well," interposed the fair youth, coming to his brother's help, "but at that time the Goths stood alone in the strange land. Now we have won a second half. We have a home--Italy. We have brothers-at-arms--the Italians!" "Italy our home!" cried the old man bitterly; "yes, that is the mistake. And the Italians our allies against Byzantium? Thou young fool!" "They were our King's own words," answered the rebuffed youth. "Yes, yes; I know these mad speeches well, that will destroy us all. We are as strange here to-day as forty years ago, when we descended from the mountains; and we shall still be strangers in the land after another thousand years. Here we shall be for ever 'the barbarians.'" "That is true; but why do we remain barbarians? Whose fault is it but ours? Why do we not learn from the Italians?" "Be silent," cried the old man, trembling with wrath, "be silent, Totila, with such thoughts; they have become the curse of my house!" Painfully recovering himself, he continued: "The Italians are our deadly enemies, not our brothers. Woe to us if we trust them! Oh that the King had followed my counsel after his victory, and slain all who could carry sword and shield, from the stammering boy to the stammering old man! They will hate us eternally. And they are right. But we, we are the fools to trust them." There ensued a pause; the youth had become very grave, and asked: "So thou holdest friendship to be impossible 'twixt them and us?" "No peace between the sons of Gaul and the Southern folk! A man enters the gold cave of a dragon--he holds the head of the dragon down with an iron fist; the monster begs for life. The man feels compassion because of his glittering scales, and feasts his eyes on the treasures of the cavern. What will the poisonous reptile do? As soon as he can he will sting him stealthily, so that he who spared him dies." "Well then, let them come, the despicable Greeks!" shouted the gigantic Hildebad; "let the race of vipers dart their forked tongues at us. We will beat them down--so!" And he lifted his club and let it fall heavily, so that the marble slab split into pieces, and the old temple resounded with the blow. "Yes, they shall try!" cried Totila, and from his eyes shone a martial fire that made him look still more beautiful; "if these unthankful Romans betray us, if the false Byzantines come," he looked with loving pride at his strong brother, "see, old man, we have men like oaks!" The old master-at-arms nodded, well pleased: "Yes, Hildebad is very strong, though not quite as strong as Winither, Walamer and others, who were young with me. Against North-men strength is a good thing. But this Southern folk," he continued angrily, "fight from towers and battlements. They carry on war as they might make a reckoning, and at last they reckon a host of heroes into a corner, where they can neither budge nor stir. I know one such arithmetician in Byzantium, who is himself no man, but conquers men. Thou, too, knowest him, Witichis?" So asking, he turned to the man with the sword. "I know Narses," answered Witichis reflectively. He had become very grave. "What thou hast said, son of Hilding, is, alas! too true. Such thoughts have often crossed my mind, but confusedly, darkly, more a horror than a thought. Thy words are undeniable; the King is at the point of death--the Princess has Grecian sympathies--Justinian is on the watch--the Italians are false as serpents--the generals of Byzantium are magicians in art, but"--here he took a deep breath--"we Goths do not stand alone. Our wise King has made friends and allies in abundance. The King of the Vandals is his brother-in-law, the King of the West Goths his grandson, the Kings of the Burgundians, the Herulians, the Thuringians, the Franks, are related to him; all people honour him as their father; the Sarmatians, even the distant Esthonians on the Baltic, send him skins and yellow amber in homage. Is all that----" "All that is nothing! It is flattering words and coloured rags! Will the Esthonians help us against Belisarius and Narses with their amber? Woe to us, if we cannot win alone! These grandsons and sons-in-law flatter as long as they tremble, and when they no more tremble, they will threaten. I know the faith of kings! We have enemies around us, open and secret, and no friends beyond ourselves." A silence ensued, during which all gravely considered the old man's words; the storm rushed howling round the weather-beaten columns and shook the crumbling temple. Then, looking up from the ground, Witichis was the first to speak: "The danger is great," said he, firmly and collectedly, "we will hope not unavoidable. Certainly thou hast not bidden us hither to look deedless at despair. There must be a remedy, so speak; how, thinkest thou, can we help?" The old man advanced a step towards him and took his hand: "That's brave, Witichis, son of Waltari. I knew thee well, and will not forget that thou wert the first to speak a word of bold assurance. Yes, I too think we are not yet past help, and I have asked you all to come here, where no Italian hears us, in order to decide upon what is best to be done. First tell me your opinion, then I will speak." As all remained silent, he turned to the man with the black locks: "If thy thoughts are ours, speak, Teja! Why art thou ever silent?" "I am silent because I differ from you." The others were amazed. Hildebrand spoke: "What dost thou mean, my son?" "Hildebad and Totila do not see any danger; thou and Witichis see it and hope; but I saw it long ago, and have no hope." "Thou seest too darkly; who dare despair before the battle?" said Witichis. "Shall we perish with our swords in the sheath, without a struggle and without fame?" cried Totila. "Not without a struggle, my Totila, and not without fame, I am sure," answered Teja, slightly swinging his battle-axe. "We will fight so that it shall never be forgotten in all future ages; fight with highest fame, but without victory. The star of the Goths is setting." "Meseems, on the contrary, that it will rise very high," cried Totila impatiently. "Let us go to the King; speak to him, Hildebrand, as thou hast spoken to us. He is wise; he will devise means." The old man shook his head: "I have spoken to him twenty times. He listens no more. He is tired and will die, and his soul is darkened, I know not by what shadows. What is thy advice, Hildebad?" "I think," answered Hildebad, proudly raising his head, "that as soon as the old lion has closed his tired eyes, we arm two hosts. Witichis and Teja lead the one before Byzantium and burn it down; with the other I and my brother climb the Alps and destroy Paris, that dragon's nest of the Merovingians, and make it a heap of stones for ever. Then there will be peace in East and West." "We have no ships against Byzantium," said Witichis. "And the Franks are seven to one against us," said Hildebrand. "But thy intentions are valiant, Hildebad. Say, what advisest thou, Witichis?" "I advise a league--weighted with oaths, secured with hostages--of all the Northern races against the Greeks." "Thou believest in fidelity, because thou thyself art true. My friend, only the Goths can help the Goths. But they must be reminded that they _are_ Goths. Listen to me. You are all young, love all manner of things, and have many pleasures. One loves a woman, another weapons, a third has some hope or some grief which is to him as a beloved one. But believe me, a time will come--it may be during your young days--when all these joys and even pains will become worthless as faded wreaths from yesterday's banquet. "Then many will become soft and pious, forget that which is on earth, and strive for that which is beyond the grave. But that neither you nor I can do. I love the earth, with mountain and wood and meadow and rushing stream; and I love life, with all its hate and long love, its tenacious anger and dumb pride. Of the ethereal life in the wind-clouds which is taught by the Christian priests, I know, and will know, nothing. But there is one possession--when all else is gone--which a true man never loses. Look at me. I am a leafless trunk. I have lost all that rejoiced my life; my wife is dead long since; my sons, my grandchildren are dead: except one, who is worse than dead--who has become an Italian. "All, all are gone, and now my first love and last pride, my great King, descends tired into his grave. What keeps me still alive? What gives me still courage and will? What drives _me_, an old man, up to this mountain in this night of storm like a youth? What glows beneath my icy beard with pure love, with stubborn pride, and with defiant sorrow? What but the impulse that lies indestructible in our blood, the deep impulsion and attraction to my people, the glowing and all-powerful love of the race that is called Goth; that speaks the noble, sweet, and homely tongue of my parents! This love of race remains like a sacrificial fire in the heart, when all other flames are extinguished; this is the highest sentiment of the human heart; the strongest power in the human soul, true to the death and invincible!" The old man had spoken with enthusiasm--his hair floated on the wind--he stood like an old priest of the Huns amongst the young men, who clenched their hands upon their weapons. At last Teja spoke: "Thou art in the right; these flames still glow when all else is spent. They burn in thee--in us--perhaps in a hundred other hearts amongst our brothers; but can this save a whole people? No! And can these fires seize the mass, the thousands, the hundred thousands?" "They can, my son, they can! Thanks to the gods, that they can!--Hear me. It is now five-and-forty years ago that we Goths, many hundred thousands, were shut up with our wives and children in the ravines of the Hæmus. We were in the greatest need. "The King's brother had been beaten and killed in a treacherous attack by the Greeks, and all the provisions that he was to bring to us were lost. We lay in the rocky ravines and suffered such hunger, that we cooked grass and leather. Behind us rose the inaccessible precipices; before, and to the left of us, the sea; to the right, in a narrow pass, lay the enemy, threefold our number. Many thousands of us were destroyed by famine or the hardships of the winter; twenty times had we vainly tried to break through the pass. "We almost despaired. Then there came a messenger from the Emperor to the King, and offered us life, freedom, wine, bread, meat--under one condition: that, separated from each other, four by four, we should be scattered over the whole Roman Empire; none of us should ever again woo a Gothic woman; none should ever again teach his child our tongue or customs; the name and being of Goth should cease to exist, we should become Romans. "The King sprang up, called us together, and reported this condition to us in a flaming speech, and asked at the end, whether we would rather give up the language, customs and life of our people, or die with him? His words spread like wildfire, the people shouted like a hundred-voiced tumultuous sea; they brandished their weapons, rushed into the pass; the Greeks were swept away as if they had never stood there, and we were victors and free!" His eyes glittered with pride; after a pause he continued: "It is this alone which can save us now as then; if once the Goths feel that they fight for their nationality, and to protect the secret jewel that lies in the customs and speech of a people, like a miraculous well-spring, then they may laugh at the hate of the Greeks and the wiles of the Italians. And, first of all, I ask you solemnly: Do you feel as strongly convinced as I do, that this love of our people is our highest aim, our dearest treasure, our strongest shield? Can you say with me: My people is to me the highest, all else is nothing; to my people I will sacrifice all that I have and am. Will you say this, and can you do it?" "We will; we can!" cried the four men. "'Tis well," continued the old man. "But Teja is right, all Goths do not feel this as we do, and yet, if it is to be of any use, all _must_ feel it. Therefore swear to me, to fill with the spirit of this hour all those with whom you live and act, from now henceforward. Too many of our folk have been dazzled by the foreign splendour; many have donned Grecian clothing and Roman thoughts; they are ashamed to be called barbarians; they wish to forget, and to make it forgotten, that they are Goths--woe to the fools! They have torn their hearts out of their bosoms, and yet wish to live; they are like leaves that have proudly loosened themselves from the parent stem. The wind will come and blow them into the mire and dirt to decay; but the stem will still stand in the midst of the storm, and will keep alive whatever clings to it faithfully. Therefore awaken and warn the people. Tell the boys the legends of their forefathers, relate the battles of the Huns, the victories over the Romans; show the men the threatening danger, and that nationality alone is our shield; warn your sisters that they may embrace no Roman and no would-be Roman; teach your wives and your brides that they must sacrifice everything, even themselves and you, to the fortune of the good Goths, so that when the enemy come, they may find a strong, proud, united people, against which they shall break themselves like waves upon a rock. Will you aid me in this?" "Yes," they cried, "we will!" "I believe you," continued the old man; "I believe you on your mere word. Not to bind you faster--for what can bind the false?--but because I cling to old custom, and because _that_ succeeds best which is done after the manner of our forefathers--follow me." CHAPTER II. Hildebrand took the torch from the column, and went across the inner space, past the cella of the temple, past the ruined high altar, past the bases of the statues of the gods--long since fallen--to the porticum or back of the edifice. Silently his companions followed the old man, who led them down the steps into the open field. After a short walk they stopped under an ancient holm, whose mighty boughs held off storm and rain like a roof. A strange sight presented itself under this oak, which, however, at once reminded the old man's Gothic companions of a custom of ancient heathen times in their distant Northern home. Under the oak a strip of thick turf, only a foot broad, but several yards long, had been cut loose from the ground; the two ends of the strip still lay in the shallow ditch thus formed, but in the middle it was raised over and supported by three long spears of unequal length, which were fixed into the ground, the tallest spear being in the middle, so that the whole arrangement formed a triangle, under which several men could stand commodiously between the shafts of the spears. In the ditch stood a brazen cauldron filled with water, near it lay a pointed and sharp butcher's knife, of extremely ancient form; the haft was made of the horn of the ure-ox, the blade of flint. The old man came forward, stuck the torch into the earth close to the cauldron, and then stepped, right foot foremost, into the ditch; he turned to the east and bent his head, then he beckoned to his friends to join him, putting his finger to his lip in sign of silence. Without a sound the four men stepped into the ditch beside him, Witichis and Teja to his right, the two brothers to his left, and all five joined hands in a solemn chain. Then the old man loosened his hands from those of Witichis and Hildebad, who stood next to him, and knelt down. First he took up a handful of the black mould and threw it over his left shoulder; then he dipped his other hand into the cauldron and sprinkled the water to the right behind him. After this he blew into the windy night-air that rustled in his long beard; and, lastly, he swung the torch from right to left over his head. Then he again stuck it into the earth and spoke in murmuring tones: "Hear me, ancient earth, welling water, ethereal air, flickering flame! Listen to me well and preserve my words. Here stand five men of the race of Graut, Teja and Totila, Hildebad and Hildebrand, and Witichis, Waltari's son. "We stand here in a quiet hour To bind a bond between blood-brethren, For ever and ever and every day. In closest communion as kindred companions. In friendship and feud, in revenge and right. One hope, one hate, one love, one lament, As we drop to one drop Our blood as blood-brethren." At these words he bared his left arm, the others did the same; close together they stretched their five arms over the cauldron, the old man lifted the sharp flint-knife, and with one stroke scratched the skin of his own and the others' forearms, so that the blood of all flowed in red drops into the brazen cauldron. Then they retook their former positions, and the old man continued murmuring: "And we swear the solemn oath, To sacrifice all that is ours, House, horse, and armour, Court, kindred, and cattle, Wife, weapons, and wares, Son, and servants, and body, and life, To the glance and glory of the race of Gaut, To the good Goths. And who of us would withdraw From honouring the oath with all sacrifices--" here he, and at a sign, the others also, stepped out of the ditch from under the strip of turf-- "His red blood shall run unrevenged Like this water under the wood-sod--" he lifted the cauldron, poured its bloody contents into the ditch, and then took it out, together with the other implements-- "Upon his head shall the halls of Heaven Crash cumbrous down and crush him, Solid as this sod." At one stroke he struck down the three supporting lance-shafts, and dully fell the heavy turf-roof back into the ditch. The five men now placed themselves again on the spot thus covered by the turf, with their hands entwined, and the old man said in more rapid tones: "Whosoever does not keep this oath; whosoever does not protect his blood-brother like his own brother during his life, and revenge his death; whosoever refuses to sacrifice everything that he possesses to the people of the Goths, when called upon to do so by a brother in case of necessity, shall be for ever subject to the eternal and infernal powers which reign under the green grass of the earth; good men shall tread with their feet over the perjurer's head, and his name shall be without honour wherever Christian folk ring bells and heathen folk offer sacrifices, wherever mothers caress their children and the wind blows over the wide world. Say, companions, shall it be thus with the vile perjurer?" "Thus shall it be with him," repeated the four men. After a grave pause, Hildebrand loosened the chain of their hands, and said: "That you may know why I bade you come hither, and how sacred this place is to me, come and see." With this he lifted the torch and went before them behind the mighty trunk of the oak, in front of which they had taken the oath. Silently his friends followed, and saw with astonishment, that, exactly in a line with the turfy ditch in which they had stood, there yawned a wide and open grave, from which the slab of stone had been rolled away. At the bottom, shining ghastly in the light of the torch, lay three long white skeletons; a few rusty pieces of armour, lance-points, and shield-bosses lay beside them. The men looked with surprise; now into the grave, now at Hildebrand. He silently held the torch over the chasm for some minutes. At last he said quietly: "My three sons. They have lain here for more than thirty years. They fell on this mountain in the last battle for the city of Ravenna. They fell in the same hour; to-day is the day. They rushed with joyous shouts against the enemies' spears--for their people." He ceased. The men looked down with emotion. At last the old man drew himself up and glanced at the sky. "It is enough," said he, "the stars are paling. Midnight is long since past. You three return into the city. Thou, Teja, wilt surely remain with me; to thee, more than to any other, is given the gift of sorrow, as of song; and keep with me the guard of honour beside the dead." Teja nodded, and sat down without a word at the foot of the grave, just where he was standing. The old man gave Totila the torch, and leaned opposite Teja against the stone slab. The other three signed to him with a parting gesture. Gravely, and buried in deep thought, they descended to the city. CHAPTER III. A few weeks after this midnight meeting near Ravenna an assembly took place in Rome; just as secret, also under protection of night, but held by very different persons for very different aims. It took place on the Appian Way, near the C[oe]meterium of St. Calixtus, in a half-ruined passage of the Catacombs; those mysterious underground ways, which almost make a second city under the streets and squares of Rome. These secret vaults--originally old burial-places, often the refuge of young Christian communities--are so intricate, and their crossings, terminations, exits, and entrances so difficult to thread, that they can only be entered under the guidance of some one intimately acquainted with their inner recesses. But the men, whose secret intercourse we are about to watch, feared no danger. They were well led. For it was Silverius, the Catholic archdeacon of the old church of St. Sebastian, who had led his friends direct from the crypt of his basilica down a steep staircase into this branch of the vaults; and the Roman priests had the reputation of having studied the windings of these labyrinths since the days of the first confessor. The persons assembled also seemed not to have met there for the first time; the gloom of the place made little impression upon them. Indifferently they leaned against the walls of the dismal semi-circular room, which, scantily lighted by a hanging lamp of bronze, formed the termination of the low passage. Indifferently they heard the drops of damp fall from the roof to the floor, or, when their feet now and then struck against white and mouldering bones, they calmly pushed them to one side. Besides Silverius, there were present a few other orthodox priests, and a number of aristocratic Romans, nobles of the Western Empire, who had remained for centuries in almost hereditary possession of the higher dignities of the state and city. Silently and attentively they observed the movements of the archdeacon; who, after having mustered those present, and thrown several searching glances into the neighbouring passages--where might be seen, keeping watch in the gloom, some youths in clerical costume--now evidently prepared to open the assembly in form. Yet once again he went up to a tall man who leaned motionless against the wall opposite to him, and with whom he had repeatedly exchanged glances; and when this man had replied to a questioning gesture by a silent nod, he turned to the others and spoke. "Beloved in the name of the triune God! Once again are we assembled here to do a holy work. The sword of Edom is brandished over our heads, and King Pharaoh pants for the blood of the children of Israel. We, however, do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul, we fear much more those who may destroy both body and soul in hell-fire. We trust, during the terrors of night, to His help who led His people through the wilderness, in the day by a cloud of smoke, at night by a pillar of fire. And to this we will hold fast: that what we suffer, we suffer for God's sake; what we do, we do to the honour of His name. Thanks to Him, for He has blest our zeal. Small as those of the Gospel were our beginnings, but we are already grown like a tree by the fresh water-springs. With fear and trembling we first assembled here; great was our danger, weak our hope; noble blood of the best has been shed; to-day, if we remain firm in faith, we may boldly say that the throne of King Pharaoh is supported on reeds, and that the days of the heathen are counted in the land." "To business!" interrupted a young man with short curly black hair and brilliant black eyes. Impatiently he threw his _sagum_ (or short cloak) back over his right shoulder, so that his broad sword became visible. "To business, priest! What shall be done to-night?" Silverius cast a look at the youth, which, with all its unctuous repose, could not quite conceal his lively dissatisfaction at such bold independence. In a sharp tone of voice he continued: "Those who do not believe in the holiness of our aim, should not, were it only for the sake of their own worldly aims, try to disturb the belief of others in its sanctity. But to-night, my Licinius, my hasty young friend, a new and highly welcome member is to be added to our league; his accession is a visible sign of the grace of God." "Who will you introduce? Are the conditions fulfilled? Do you answer for him unconditionally, or have you other surety?" So asked another of those present, a man of ripe years with regular features, who, a staff between his feet, sat quietly on a projection of the wall. "I answer for him, my Scævola; besides, his person? is sufficient----" "Nothing of the sort. The statutes of our league demand surety, and I insist upon it," said Scævola quietly. "Good, good; I will be surety, toughest of all jurists!" repeated the priest with a smile. He made a sign towards one of the passages to the left. From thence appeared two young _ostiarii_ (doorkeepers), leading a man into the middle of the vault, upon whose covered head all eyes were fixed. After a pause, Silverius lifted the cover from the head and shoulders of the new comer. "Albinus!" cried the others, in surprise, indignation, and anger. Young Licinius grasped his sword; Scævola slowly rose; confused exclamations sounded from all sides. "What! Albinus, the traitor?" The reviled man looked shyly about him; his relaxed features announced inborn cowardice; as if beseeching help he turned his eyes towards the priest. "Yes, Albinus!" said the latter quietly, thus appealed to. "Will any one of the colleagues speak against him? Let him speak." "By my Genius!" cried Licinius, before any one could reply, "needs it to be told? We all know who and what Albinus is. A cowardly shameful traitor"--anger suffocated his voice. "Invectives are no proof," interposed Scævola. "But I ask himself; he shall confess here before us all. Albinus, was it you, or was it not, who, when the existence of our league was betrayed to the tyrant and you alone were accused, looked quietly on and saw the noble Boëthius and Symmachus, our confederates, because they defended you against the tyrant, despoiled of their fortune, persecuted, taken prisoners and executed; while you, the really accused, saved yourself by taking a shameful oath that you would never more trouble yourself about the state, and by suddenly disappearing? Speak, was it you for whose sake the pride of our fatherland fell?" A murmur of indignation went through the assembly. The accused remained dumb and trembled; even Silverius lost countenance for a moment. Then the man who was leaning against the wall opposite, raised himself and took a step forward; his mere vicinity seemed to embolden the priest, who again began: "Friends, what you say has happened, but not as you say it. Before all things, know this: Albinus is the _least_ to blame. What he did, he did by my advice." "By your advice!" "You dare to confess it?" "Albinus was accused through the treachery of a slave, who had deciphered the secret writing in the letters to Byzantium. All the tyrant's suspicion was aroused; every appearance of resistance or of connection would increase the danger. The impetuosity of Boëthius and Symmachus, who courageously defended Albinus, was noble but foolish, for it revealed to the barbarians the sentiments of the whole of the Roman aristocracy; and showed that Albinus did not stand alone. They acted against my advice, and alas! have suffered death for so doing. But their zeal was superfluous; for the hand of the Lord suddenly bereft the slave of life before further revelations, and the secret writings of Albinus had been successfully destroyed before his arrest. "But do you believe that Albinus would have been silent under torture, under the threat of death, if naming his co-conspirators could have saved him? You do not believe it, Albinus himself did not believe it. Therefore it was necessary, before all else, to gain time and to prevent the use of torture. This was accomplished by his oath. Meanwhile, it is true, Boëthius and Symmachus suffered; they could not be saved; but of their silence, even under torture, we were sure. "Albinus was freed from his prison by a miracle, like St. Paul at Philippi. It was said that he had escaped to Athens, and the tyrant was contented with prohibiting his return. But the triune God has prepared a refuge for him here in His temple until the hour of freedom approaches. In the solitude of His sacred asylum the Lord has touched his heart in a wonderful manner, and, undismayed by the danger of death, which once before had so nearly overtaken him, he again enters into our circle, and offers to the service of God and the fatherland his whole immense fortune. Listen: he has made over all his property to the church of St. Maria Majoris for the uses of our league. Would you despise him and his millions?" A pause of astonishment ensued; at last Licinius cried: "Priest, you are as wise as----as a priest. But such wisdom pleases me not." "Silverius," said the jurist, "you may take the millions. It is fitting that you should do so. But I was the friend of Boëthius; it is not fitting that I should have anything in common with that coward. I cannot forgive him. Away with him!" "Away with him!" sounded from all sides. Scævola had given utterance to the sentiment of all present. Albinus grew pale; even Silverius quailed under this general indignation. "Cethegus!" whispered he, claiming assistance. This man, who, until now, had remained silent and had only regarded the speakers with cool superiority, now stepped into the middle of the assembly. He was tall and lean, but powerful, with a broad breast and muscles of pure steel. A purple hem on his toga and delicate sandals betrayed riches, rank and taste, but a long brown soldier's mantle hid the remainder of his underclothing. His head was one of those which, once seen, are never again forgotten. His thick and still glossy black hair was cut short, after Roman fashion, round his lofty, almost too prominent forehead and nobly-formed temples. Deep under his finely-arched brows were hidden his narrow eyes, in whose undecided dark-grey colour lay a whole ocean of sunken passions and a still more pronounced expression of the coolest self-control. Round his sharply cut and beardless lips lurked a trait of proud contempt of God and His whole creation. As he stepped forward, and, with quiet distinction, allowed his eyes to wander over the excited assembly; as he commenced his insinuating yet commanding speech, every one felt his superiority, and few could remain in his presence without a consciousness of subordination. "Why do you wrangle," he said coldly, "about things that must be done? Who wills the end, must will the means. You will not forgive? As you please! That is of little consequence. But you must and you can forget. I also was a friend of the dead, perhaps their dearest. And yet--I will forget. I do so just because I was their friend. _He_ loves them, Scævola, and he alone, who avenges them. For the sake of revenge---- Albinus, your hand!" All were silent, awed more by the personality than convinced by the reasons of the speaker. But the jurist still objected: "Rusticiana, the influential woman, the widow of Boëthius, the daughter of Symmachus, is favourable to our league. Will she remain so if this man enters it? Can she ever forget and forgive? Never!" "She can. Do not believe me, believe your eyes." With these words Cethegus quickly turned and entered one of the side-passages, whose opening had been hidden until now by his own person. Close to the entrance a veiled figure stood listening; he caught her hand: "Come," whispered he, "come now." "I cannot! I will not!" was the almost inaudible answer of the resisting woman. "I curse him! I cannot look at him, the wretch!" "It must be. Come; you can and you shall--for I will have it so." He threw back her veil; one look, and she followed as if deprived of the power of will. They turned the corner of the entrance: "Rusticiana!" cried the whole assembly. "A woman in our meeting!" exclaimed the jurist. "It is against the statutes, the laws." "Yes, Scævola; but the laws are made for the league, not the league for the laws. And you would never have believed from _me_, that which you now see with your own eyes." He laid the widow's hand within the trembling right hand of Albinus. "Look! Rusticiana forgives! Who will now resist?" Vanquished and overruled, all remained silent. For Cethegus all further proceedings seemed to have lost interest. He retired into the background with Rusticiana. But the priest now said: "Albinus is a member of the league." "And the oath that he swore to the tyrant?" hesitatingly asked Scævola. "Was forced, and he is absolved from it by Holy Church. But now it is time to depart. Let us only conclude the most pressing business. Here, Licinius, is the plan of the fortress of Neapolis: you must have it copied by to-morrow; it goes to Belisarius. Here, Scævola, letters from Byzantium, from Theodora, the pious wife of Justinian: you must answer them. Here, Calpurnius, is an assignment of half a million _solidi_ from Albinus: you will send them to the Frankish major domus; he has great influence with his king. Here, Pomponius, is a list of the patriots in Dalmatia; you know men and things there, take notice if important names are omitted. And be it known to all of you, that, according to news received to-day from Ravenna, the hand of the Lord lies heavy on the tyrant. Deep melancholy, too tardy remorse for all his sins, oppresses him, and the consolations of the true faith have not yet penetrated into his soul. Have patience but a little while; the angry voice of the Judge will soon summon him; then comes the day of freedom. At the next Ides, at the same hour, we shall meet here again. The blessing of the Lord be with you!" A motion of his hand dismissed the assembly; the young priests came out of the side-passage with torches, and led the members, each one singly, in different directions, to the secret exits of the Catacombs. CHAPTER IV. Silverius, Cethegus, and Rusticiana went together up the steps which led to the crypt of the basilica of St. Sebastian. From thence they passed through the church into the adjoining house of the archdeacon. On arriving there, Silverius convinced himself that all the inhabitants of the house were asleep, with the exception of an old slave, who was watching in the atrium near a half-extinguished lamp. At a sign from his master he lighted a silver lamp which stood near him, and pressed a secret spring in the marble wainscot of the room. A slab of marble turned on its hinges and allowed the priest who had taken up the lamp to pass, with his two companions, into a small, low chamber, and then quickly and noiselessly closed behind them, leaving no trace of an opening. The small chamber, now simply adorned by a tall wooden crucifix, a fall-stool, and a few plain Christian symbols on a golden background, had evidently, as the cushioned shelf which ran round the walls showed, served for those small banquets of one or two guests, whose unrestrained comfort Horace has so often celebrated in song. At the time of which I speak it was the private chamber in which the archdeacon brooded over his most secret priestly or worldly plans. Cethegus silently seated himself on the _lectus_ (a small couch), throwing the superficial glance of a critic at a Mosaic picture inserted into the opposite wall. While the priest was occupied in pouring wine from an amphora with large curving handles into some cups which stood ready, and placing a metal dish of fruit on the bronze tripod table, Rusticiana stood opposite Cethegus, measuring him with an expression of astonishment and indignation. Scarcely forty years of age, this woman showed traces of a rare--and rather manly--beauty, which had suffered less from time than from violent passions. Here and there her raven-black braids were streaked with white, not grey, and strong lines lay round the mobile corners of her mouth. She leaned her left hand on the table, and meditatively stroked her brow with her right, while she gazed at Cethegus. At last she spoke. "Tell me, tell me, Cethegus, what power is this that you have over me? I no more love you. I ought to hate you. I do hate you. And yet I must involuntarily obey you, like a bird under the fascinating eye of a snake. And you place my hand, _this_ hand, in that of that miserable man! Say, you evil-doer, what is this power?" Cethegus was inattentively silent. At last, leaning back, he said: "Habit, Rusticiana, habit." "Truly, 'tis habit! The habit of a slavery that has existed ever since I can remember. It was natural that as a girl I should admire the handsome son of our neighbours; that I believed in your love was excusable, did you not kiss me? And who could--at that time--know that you were incapable of loving anything--even yourself? That the wife of Boëthius did not smother the mad passion which, as if in sport, you again fanned into a flame, was a sin; but God and the Church have forgiven it. But that I should still, after knowing for years your utter heartlessness, when the glow of passion is extinguished in my veins, that I should still most blindly follow your demoniac will--that is folly enough to make me laugh aloud." And she laughed wildly, and pressed her right hand to her brow. The priest stopped in his domestic occupations and looked stealthily at Cethegus. He was intensely interested. Cethegus leaned his head back against the marble moulding, and with his right hand grasped the drinking-cup which stood before him. "You are unjust, Rusticiana," he said quietly, "and confused. You mix the sports of Eros with the works of Eris and the Fates. You know that I was the friend of Boëthius, although I kissed his wife. Perhaps just for that reason. I see nothing particular in that. And you--well, Silverius and the saints have forgiven you. You know further, that I hate these Goths, mortally hate them; that I have the will and--more than all others--the power to carry through that which is now your greatest wish, to revenge your father, whom you loved, and your husband, whom you honoured, on these barbarians. "Therefore you obey my instigations, and you are wise in so doing; for you have a decided talent for intrigue, but your impetuosity often clouds your judgment. It spoils your finest plans. Therefore it is well that you follow cooler guidance. That is all. But now go. Your slave is crouching, drunk with sleep, in the vestibule. She believes that you are in the confessional with friend Silverius. The confession must not last too long. And we also have business to transact. Greet Camilla, your lovely child, for me, and farewell." He rose, took her hand, and led her gently to the door. She followed reluctantly, nodded to the priest at parting, looked once more at Cethegus, who appeared not to observe her inward emotion, and went out, slightly shaking her head. Cethegus sat down again and emptied his cup of wine. "A strange struggle in this woman's nature," remarked Silverius, and sat down by Cethegus with stylus, wax-tablets, letters and documents. "It is not strange. She wishes to atone for having wronged her husband by avenging him," said Cethegus. "And that she can accomplish this by means of her former lover, makes the sacred duty doubly sweet. To be sure, she is not conscious of it.--But what have we to do?" The two men now began their business: to consider such points of the conspiracy as they did not judge advisable to communicate to all the members of the league. "At present," began the archdeacon, "it is above all things necessary to ascertain the amount of this fortune of Albinus, and decide upon its appropriation. We assuredly require money, much money." "Money affairs are your province,"--said Cethegus, drinking. "I understand them, of course, but they annoy me." "Further," continued Silverius, "the most influential men in Sicilia, Neapolis, and Apulia must be won over to our cause. Here is the list of their names, with notes annexed. There are men amongst them who are not to be allured by the usual means." "Give it to me," said Cethegus, "I will manage that," And he cut up a Persian apple. After an hour's hard work, the most pressing business was settled, and the host replaced the documents, in a secret drawer in the wall behind the crucifix. The priest was tired, and looked with envy at his companion, whose powerful frame and indefatigable spirit no late hours or exertion seemed able to exhaust. He expressed something of the sort, as Cethegus again filled the silver cup. "Practice, friend, strong nerves, and," added Cethegus, smiling, "a good conscience; that is the whole secret." "Yes, but in earnest, Cethegus, you are a riddle to me in other respects." "I should hope so." "Oh ho! do you consider yourself such a superior being that I cannot fathom you?" "Not at all. But still sufficiently deep to be to others no less a riddle than--to myself. Your pride in your knowledge of mankind may be at ease. I am no wiser about myself than you are. Only fools are transparent." "In fact," said the priest, expatiating on the subject, "the key to your nature must be difficult to find. For example, look at the members of our league. It is easy to say what motives have led them to join us. The hot young courage of a Licinius; the pig-headed but honest sense of justice of a Scævola; as for myself and the other priests--our zeal for the honour of God." "Naturally," said Cethegus, drinking. "Others are induced by ambition, or are in hopes that they may cut off the heads of their creditors in a civil war; or they are tired of the orderly condition of this country under the Goths, or have been offended by one of these foreigners. Most of them have a natural repugnance to the barbarians, and are in the habit of seeing in the Emperor alone the master of Italy. But none of these reasons apply to you, and----" "And," interrupted Cethegus, "that is very uncomfortable, is it not? For by knowledge of their motives one can govern men. Well, I am sorry, reverend friend, but I cannot help you. I really do not know myself what my motive is. I am so curious about it, that I would gladly tell it to you--and allow myself to be governed--if I could only find it out. Only one thing I feel--that these Goths are my antipathy. I hate these full-blooded fellows, with their broad flaxen beards. I cannot bear their brutal good humour, their ingenuous youthfulness, their stupid heroism, their unbroken natures. It is the impudence of chance, which governs the world, that this country, after such a history, possessing men like--like you and me--should be ruled by these Northern bears!" He tossed his head indignantly, closed his eyes, and sipped a small quantity of wine. "That the barbarians must go, we are agreed," said Silverius, "and with this, all is gained as far as I am concerned. For I only await the deliverance of the Church from these heretical barbarians, who deny the divinity of Christ, and make Him a demi-god. I hope that the primacy of all Christendom will, as is fitting, incontestably fall to the share of the Roman Church. But as long as Rome is in the power of the heretics, while the Bishop of Byzantium is supported by the only orthodox and legitimate Emperor----" "The Bishop of Rome cannot be the first Bishop of Christendom, nor the master of Italy; and therefore the Roman Apostolic See, even when occupied by a Silverius, cannot be what it ought to be--the highest. And yet that is what Silverius wishes." The priest looked up in surprise. "Do not be uneasy, reverend friend. I knew this long ago, and have kept your secret, although you did not confide it to me. But further----" He again filled his cup. "Your Falernian has been well stored, but it is too sweet.--Properly speaking, you can but wish that these Goths may evacuate the throne of the Cæsars, and not that the Byzantines should take their place; for in that case the Bishop of Rome would have again a superior bishop and an emperor in Byzantium. You must therefore, instead of the Goths, wish--not for an Emperor--Justinian--but--what else?" "Either," eagerly interrupted Silverius, "a special Emperor of the Western Empire----" "Who, however," said Cethegus, completing the sentence, "would be only a puppet in the hands of the holy Petrus----" "Or a Roman republic, a State of the Church----" "In which the Bishop of Rome is master, Italy the principal country, and the barbarian kings in Gaul, Germany, and Spain the obedient sons of the Church. All very fine, my friend. But first the enemy must be annihilated, whose spoils you already divide. Therefore let us drink an old Roman toast: 'Woe to the barbarians!'" He rose and drank to the priest. "But," he added, "the last night-watch creeps on, and my slaves must find me in the morning in my bedchamber. Farewell!" With this he drew the _cucullus_ (hood) of his mantle over his head and departed. His host looked after him. "A very important tool!" he said to himself. "It is a good thing that he is only a tool. May he always remain so!" Cethegus walked away from the Via Appia in a north-westerly direction, towards the Capitol, beneath which, at the northern end of the Via Sacra, his house was situated, to the north-east of the Forum Romanum. The cool morning air played refreshingly over his brow. He threw open his mantle and deeply inflated his strong broad chest. "Yes, I am a riddle," he said to himself. "I join in a conspiracy and go about by night, like a republican or a lover at twenty. And wherefore? Who knows why he breathes? Because he must. And so I do what I must. But one thing is certain, this priest may--perhaps must--become Pope; but he must not remain so long, else farewell my scarcely-avowed thoughts, which are yet but dreams and cloud-mists. Perhaps it may be that from them will arise a storm that will decide my fate. See, it lightens in the east! 'Tis well; I accept the omen!" With these words he entered his house. In his bed-chamber he found a letter on the cedar table before his bed, tied with a silken string, and sealed with the royal seal. He cut the string with his dagger, opened the double waxen tablets, and read: "To Cethegus Cæsarius, the Princeps Senatus, Marcus Aurelius Cassiodorus, Senator. "Our lord and king lies on his death-bed. His daughter and heiress, Amalaswintha, wishes to speak with you before his end. "You are to undertake the most important office in the kingdom. "Hasten at once to Ravenna." CHAPTER V. Over the King's palace at Ravenna, with all its gloomy splendour and inhospitable spaciousness, lay an air of breathless anxiety. The old castle of the Cæsars had suffered many disfiguring changes in the course of centuries, and since the Gothic kings, with all their Germanic courtiers, had taken the place of the emperors, it had assumed a very inharmonious aspect, for many chambers, intended for the peculiar customs of Roman life, stood, still retaining the old magnificence of their arrangements, unused and neglected. Cobwebs covered the mosaic of the rich baths of Honorius, and in the toilet-chamber of Placidia the lizards climbed over the marble frames of the silver mirrors on the walls. On the one side, the necessities of a more warlike court had obliged the removal of many walls, in order to change the small rooms of the ancient building into wider halls for arsenals, banqueting and guard-rooms, and, on the other, neighbouring houses had been joined to the palace by new walls, so as to create a stronghold in the middle of the city. In the dried-up _piscina maxima_ (large fish-pond) fair-haired boys now romped, and in the marble halls of the _palæstra_[1] neighed the horses of the Gothic guards. So the extensive edifice had the dismal appearance partly of a scarcely-preserved ruin, and partly of a half-finished new erection; and thus the palace of the present ruler seemed a symbol of his Roman-Gothic kingdom, and of his whole half-finished, half-decayed political creation. On the day, however, on which Cethegus, after years of absence, once again entered the house, there lay heavy upon it a cloud of anxiety, sorrow and gloom, for its royal soul was departing from it. The great man, who here had guided, for the space of a man's life, the fate of Europe; who was wondered at, with love or with hate, by West and by East; the hero of his age; the powerful Theodoric of Verona, of whose name--even during his lifetime--Legend had possessed herself; the great Amelung, King Theodoric, was about to die. So said the physicians--if not to himself, yet to his nearest relations--and the report soon spread in the great and populous city. Although such an end to the secret sufferings of the aged King had been long held possible, the news that the blow was at hand now filled all hearts with the greatest excitement. The faithful Goths were anxious and grieved, and a dull fear was the predominating feeling even of the Roman population, for here in Ravenna, in the immediate vicinity of the King, the Italians had had frequent opportunities of admiring his mildness and generosity, and of experiencing his beneficence. And besides, it was feared that after the death of this King, who, during his lifetime--with the single exception of the last contest with the Emperor and the Senate, when Boëthius and Symmachus bled--had protected the Italians from the harshness and violence of his people--a new rule of severity and oppression would commence on the part of the Goths. And, finally, another and more noble influence was at work; the personality of this hero-King had been so grand, so majestic, that even those who had often wished for the destruction of himself and his kingdom, could not--at the moment when this luminary was about to be extinguished--revel in a feeling of malicious joy, and were unable to overcome a deep depression. So, since early morning--when servants from the palace had been seen rushing in all directions, and special messengers hurrying to the houses of the most distinguished Goths and Romans--the town had been in a state of great excitement. Men stood together by pairs or in groups in the streets, squares and baths, questioning or imparting to each other what they knew; trying to detain some person of importance who came from the palace, and talking of the grave consequences of the approaching catastrophe. Women and children, urged by curiosity, crouched on the thresholds of the houses. As the day advanced, even the populations of the nearest towns and villages--principally consisting of sorrowing Goths--streamed into the gates of the city to hear the news. The counsellors of the King, pre-eminently the pretorian prefect, Cassiodorus, who earned great praise for preserving order in those days, had foreseen this excitement, and perhaps expected something worse. At midnight all the entrances to the palace had been closed, and guarded by Goths. In the Forum Honorum, before the palace, a troop of cavalry had been placed. On the broad marble steps that led up to the grand colonnade of the principal entrance, lay, in picturesque groups, strong companies of Gothic foot-soldiers, armed with shield and spear. Only there, according to the order of Cassiodorus, could admittance be gained to the palace, and only the two leaders of the infantry--Cyprian, the Roman, and Witichis, the Goth, were allowed to grant permission to enter. It was to the first of these persons that Cethegus applied. As he took the well-known way to the King's apartments, he found all the Goths and Romans whose rank or importance had procured them admittance, scattered in groups about the halls and corridors. In the once noisy banqueting-hall the young leaders of the Gothic hundreds and thousands stood together, silent and sorrowing, or whispering their anxious inquiries, while here and there an elderly man--a companion-at-arms of the dying hero--leaned in the niche of a bow-window, seeking to hide his ungovernable sorrow. In the middle of the hall stood--pressing his head against a pillar and weeping loudly--a rich merchant of Ravenna. The King, now on the point of death, had once pardoned him for joining in a conspiracy, and had prevented his goods from being plundered by the enraged Goths. Cethegus passed by them all with a cold glance of contempt. In the next room--a saloon intended for the reception of foreign embassies--he found a number of distinguished Goths--dukes, earls, and other nobles--who evidently were assembled together to consult upon the succession, and the threatened overthrow of all existing conditions. There was the brave Duke Thulun, who had heroically defended the town of Arles against the Franks; Ibba, the conqueror of Spain; and Pitza, who had been victorious over the Bulgarians and Gepidians--all mighty warriors, proud of their nobility, which was little less than that of the royal house of Amelung; for they were of the house of Balthe, which, through Alaric, had won the crown of the Visigoths; and no less proud of their services in war, which had protected and extended the kingdom. Hildebad and Teja were with them. They were the leaders of the party which had long since desired a more severe treatment of the Italians, whom they at once hated and shunned; but had been forced, against their will, to give way to the milder opinions of the King. What looks of hatred shot from their eyes upon the aristocratic Roman who now came to witness the death of the great Gothic hero! Cethegus walked quietly past them, and lifted the heavy woollen curtain that divided this from the next apartment--the ante-chamber of the sick-room. On entering, he greeted with a profound inclination a tall and queenly woman, enveloped in a black mourning veil, who, grave and silent, but composed and without tears, stood before a marble table covered with records. It was Amalaswintha, the widowed daughter of Theodoric. A woman above thirty years of age, she was still extremely, though coldly, beautiful. She wore her rich dark hair parted and waved in the fashion of the Greeks. Her high forehead, her large, open eyes, her straight nose, the pride expressed in her almost manly features, and the majesty of her full form, gave her an imposing dignity, and, clad in a garment folded in true Grecian style, she resembled a Juno of Polycletus which had descended from its pedestal. Her arm, more supporting than supported, was laid within that of a youth of about seventeen years of age--Athalaric, her son, the heir of the kingdom of the Goths. He did not resemble his mother, but had the nature of his unhappy father, Eutharic, whom a wasting heart disease had hurried to the grave in the bloom of life. For this reason, Amalaswintha saw with sorrow that her son grew daily more like his father; and it was no longer a secret at the court of Ravenna that all the signs of the disease were already visible in the young man. Athalaric was as beautiful as all the other members of this royal house, descended from the gods. Heavy black eyebrows and long eyelashes shaded his beautiful dark eyes, that now melted with an expression of dreamy reverie, and now flashed with intellectual brilliancy. Dark brown tangled locks hung over his pale temples, on which, when he was excited, the blue veins swelled convulsively. On his noble brow physical pain or sad resignation had traced deep lines, strange to see on his youthful countenance. Marble paleness and vivid red quickly alternated in his transparent cheeks. His tall but bent-frame generally seemed to hang, so to speak, on its hinges, as if tired, and only at times he drew himself up with startling suddenness. He did not notice Cethegus, for, leaning on his mother's breast, he had in his sadness flung his Grecian mantle over that young head, which was soon destined to wear a crown. At some distance from these two figures, near an open window that afforded a view of the marble steps upon which lay the Gothic warriors, stood, lost in thought, a woman--or was it a girl?--of surprising and dazzling beauty; it was Mataswintha, the sister of Athalaric. She resembled her mother in height and nobleness of form, but her more sharply-cut features were filled with fiery and passionate life, which was only slightly concealed under an aspect of artificial coldness. Her figure, in which blooming fulness and delicate slenderness were harmoniously blended, reminded one of that Artemis in the arms of Endymion, in the group sculptured by Agesander, which, as legend reports, was banished from the town by the Council of Rhodes because the marble representation of the most perfect maidenly beauty and highest sensuousness had driven the youths of the island to madness and suicide. The magic of ripe virgin beauty trembled over the whole form of Mataswintha. Her rich waving hair was of a dark-red colour, with a glimmering metallic light upon it, and had such an extraordinary effect that it had procured for the Princess, even amongst her own nation, whose women were celebrated for their splendid golden locks, the appellation of "Beautiful-hair." Her nose was finely-shaped, with delicately-chiselled nostrils, which quivered at the slightest emotion; and freshly bloomed the full and rosy lips of her lovely mouth. But the most striking feature of this extraordinary beauty was the grey eye, not so much on account of its changing colour as from the wonderful expression with which, though generally lost in reverie, it could sometimes flash with burning passion. Indeed, as she stood there leaning against the window, in the half-Hellenic, half-Gothic costume, which her fancy had combined, her full white arm wound round the dark column of porphyry, and gazing thoughtfully out into the evening air, her seductive beauty resembled that of those irresistible wood or water-nymphs, whose enchanting power of love has always been celebrated in Northern legend. And so great was the power of this beauty, that even the burnt-out bosom of Cethegus, who had long known the Princess, was moved to new admiration as he entered. But his attention was immediately claimed by Cassiodorus--the learned and faithful minister of the King, the first representative of that benevolent but hopeless policy of reconciliation, which had been practised in the Gothic Kingdom for many years--who was standing near Amalaswintha. This old man, whose venerable and mild features were no less filled with an expression of sorrow at the loss of his royal friend than by anxiety for the future of the kingdom, rose, and went with tottering steps towards Cethegus, who reverently bent his head. The aged man's eyes rested upon him for some moments, swimming in tears; at last he sank sighing upon the cold breast of Cethegus, who despised him for this weakness. "What a day!" complained Cassiodorus. "A fateful day," said Cethegus gravely. "Strength and presence of mind are necessary." "You say truly, patrician, and speak like a Roman," said the Princess, leaving Athalaric--"welcome!" She gave him her hand, which did not tremble. Her eye was clear and tearless. "The disciple of the Stoics preserves, even on this day, the wisdom of Zeno and her own composure," said Cethegus. "Say, rather, that the grace of God wonderfully upholds her soul," said Cassiodorus reprovingly. "Patrician," began Amalaswintha, "the prætorian prefect has proposed you to me for the performance of an important business. His word would be sufficient, even had I not known you so long. You are the self-same Cethegus who transposed the first two songs of the? 'Æneid' into Grecian hexameters?" "Infandum renovare jubes, regina, dolorem. A youthful sin, Queen," said Cethegus, smiling. "I bought up all the copies and burnt them on the day on which Tullia's translation appeared." Tullia was the pseudonym of Amalaswintha. Cethegus knew it, but the Princess had no suspicion of his knowledge. She was flattered in her weakest point, and continued: "You know how it stands with us. My father's moments are counted; according to the report of the physicians, he may, although yet strong and active, die at any moment. Athalaric here is the heir to his crown. But until he has reached the proper age, I shall conduct the regency, and act as his guardian." "Such is the will of the King, and Goths and Romans have long since agreed to this wise arrangement," said Cethegus. "They did so, but the mob is fickle. The rough men despise the government of a woman"--and at this thought Amalaswintha knit her brow in anger. "It is certainly contrary to the political principles both of Goths and Romans," said Cassiodorus apologetically. "It is quite a new thing that a woman----" "Whatever may be thought about it, it is a fact," interposed the Princess. "Nevertheless, I count on the fidelity of the Goths in general, though single aristocratic individuals may aim at the crown. I also fear nothing from the Italians here in Ravenna, nor in most towns. But I fear--Rome and the Romans!" The attention of Cethegus was arrested. His whole being was suddenly excited, but his countenance remained impassive. "Rome will never accustom herself to the rule of the Goths; she will always resist us--how can it be otherwise?" added Amalaswintha. It seemed as if the daughter of Theodoric had a Roman soul. "Therefore we fear," concluded Cassiodorus, "that, at the news of the vacancy of the throne, a movement may break out in Rome against the regency, be it for annexation to Byzantium, be it for the election of an Emperor of the Western Empire." Cethegus, as if in reflection, cast down his eyes. "For this reason," quickly interposed the Princess, "everything must be done before the news reaches Rome. A faithful, energetic man must receive the oaths of the garrison for me--I mean for my son; must take possession of the most important gates and squares, intimidate the Senate and the nobles, win the people to my cause, and irrevocably confirm my dominion before it is menaced. And to effect this, Cassiodorus has proposed--you. Speak; will you undertake it?" At this moment the golden stylus which she held happened to fell to the ground. Cethegus stooped to pick it up. He had only this one moment for the crowding thoughts that passed through his mind on hearing this proposal. Was the conspiracy in the Catacombs betrayed? Was he himself betrayed? Was this a snare laid by the crafty and ambitious woman? Or were the fools really so blind as to press this offer upon him? And if it were so, what should he do? Should he seize the occasion? Should he strike at once, in order to win Rome? And for whom? For Byzantium or for an Emperor of the West? And who should it be? Or were things not yet ripe? Should he, for this once, seemingly practise fidelity? To resolve these and many other questions, he had only the one moment in which he stooped. But his quick mind needed no more. He had seen, while in the act of stooping, the unsuspicious, trusting look of Cassiodorus, and, giving the stylus to the Princess, he spoke with decision: "Queen, I undertake the business." "That is well," said the Princess. Cassiodorus pressed his hand. "When Cassiodorus proposed me for this office," continued Cethegus, "he gave another proof of his deep knowledge of mankind. He has seen the kernel through the shell." "What do you mean?" asked Amalaswintha. "Queen, appearances might have deceived him. I confess that I do not like to see the barbarians--pardon, the Goths--reigning in Italy." "This frankness honours you, and I pardon the feeling in a Roman." "Besides that, I have taken no interest in public affairs for some years. After having experienced varied passions, I now live in the calm and retirement of my country villas, cultivating the sportive muse, enjoying my books, and untroubled by the cares of kings." "Beatus ille qui procul negotiis," quoted the learned lady, sighing. "But, because I honour science, because I, a scholar of Plato, desire that the wise should govern, I wish that a Queen should reign over my fatherland who is only a Goth by birth, but in her soul a Greek, and by her virtues a Roman. For her sake I will sacrifice my leisure to hated business. But only on condition that this shall be my last office of state. I will undertake your commission, and answer for Rome with my head." "Good; here you will find the legal documents which you will need." Cethegus looked rapidly through the records. "This is the manifesto of the young King to the Romans, with your signature. _His_ is still wanting." Amalaswintha dipped the Cnidian reed-pen into the vessel filled with crimson ink, which was used by the Amelungs as well as by the Roman Emperors. "Come, write thy name, my son," she said. Athalaric, standing and leaning with both arms on the table, had keenly observed Cethegus during the above conversation. Now he stood erect. He was accustomed to act with the usual arrogance of a Crown Prince and the petulancy of an invalid. "No," he said impatiently; "I will not write. Not only because I do not trust this cold Roman--I do not trust you in the least, you proud man--but it is revolting that, while my noble father still breathes, you already quarrel about his crown. You dwarfs! About the crown of a giant! Shame on your insensibility! Behind those curtains the greatest hero of the century is dying, and you think already of the partition of his garment!" He turned his back upon them and went slowly to the window, where he passed his arm round his lovely sister, and stroked her shining hair. He stood there for some time; she did not notice him. Suddenly she started from her reverie. "Athalaric," she whispered, hastily grasping his arm, and pointing at the marble staircase, "who is that man in the blue steel helmet, who is just coming round that pillar? Say, who is it?" "Let me see," said the youth, bending forward. "That? Oh! that is Earl Witichis, the conqueror of the Gepidae, a famous hero." And he told her of the deeds and triumphs of the Earl in the last war. Meanwhile Cethegus had looked inquiringly at the Princess and the minister. "Let him alone," sighed Amalaswintha. "If he will not, no power on earth can make him." Further questions on the part of Cethegus were cut short, for the three-fold curtain, that shut out all the noise of the ante-chamber from the King's bedroom, was parted. It was Elpidios, the Greek physician, who, lifting the heavy folds, now entered, and announced that the sick man, just awakened from a long sleep, had sent him away, in order to be alone with old Hildebrand, who never stirred from his side. CHAPTER VI. Theodoric's bed-chamber, which had served the same purpose under the Emperors, was decorated with the heavy splendour of late Roman style. The superabundant reliefs of the walls and the gilded ornamentation of the ceiling still pictured the victories and triumphal processions of Roman consuls and emperors. Heathen gods and goddesses floated proudly above. Everywhere reigned the same oppressive magnificence. The extreme simplicity of the Gothic King's couch formed a remarkable contrast to all this pomp. The oval frame of unpolished oak was raised scarcely a foot from the ground, and contained few cushions. Only the costly crimson cover which hid the King's feet, and the lion's skin with golden claws that lay before the bed--a present from the King of the Vandals, in Africa--betrayed the royalty of the sick man. All the other furniture of the room was simple, plain, and almost barbarously clumsy. On a pillar in the background hung the iron shield and broad-sword of the King, which had not been used for many years. At the head of the bed stood the old master-at-arms, with his eyes bent down, anxiously examining the features of the patient, who, leaning on his left arm, turned his majestic countenance towards him. The King's sparse hair, rubbed off on the temples by years of friction caused by his heavy helmet, was still of a bright brown colour, and without a trace of grey. His heavy brow, sparkling eyes, large nose, and the deep lines in his cheeks, spoke of great tasks and great strength to accomplish them. The expression of his face was commanding and even sublime; but the benevolent softness of his mouth, in spite of the grim and slightly-grey beard, gave evidence of the mildness and peaceful wisdom by means of which he had raised his kingdom to such a flourishing condition that it had already become a proverb and celebrated in story. His golden-brown and piercing eyes rested for some time upon his gigantic sick-nurse, with an expression of love and favour. At last he stretched out his thin, but nervous, right hand. "Old friend," said he, "we must now take leave of each other." The old man sank upon his knees and pressed the King's hand to his broad breast. "Come, my friend, rise! Must I comfort _thee_?" But Hildebrand remained upon his knees, and only lifted his head so that he could look the King in the face. "See," said the King, "I know that thou, son of Hilding, hast received from thy ancestors and thy father a deeper knowledge of the ailings of mankind and their healing than all these Grecian physicians and Lydian quack-salvers. And, more than that, thou art sincere. Therefore, I beg thee honestly to confirm me in what I feel to be true. Tell me, must I not die to-day--even before the night?" And he looked at him in a manner that would brook no deception. But Hildebrand did not wish to deceive him; he had regained his natural composure. "Yes, King of the Goths, heir of the Amelungs, thou must die; the hand of Death has passed across thy brow. Never again wilt thou see the sun's setting." "It is well," said Theodoric, without blenching. "Seest thou, the Greek whom I dismissed has lied to me all the day long. And yet time is precious to me." "Wilt thou again send for the priests?" asked Hildebrand reluctantly. "No; they can do me no good. I need them no more." "Sleep has strengthened thee, and lifted the veil from thy soul. Hail! Theodoric, son of Walamer! thou wilt die like a hero!" "I know," said the King, smiling, "that it was repugnant to thy feelings to see the priests near my couch. Thou art in the right. They cannot help me." "And now--who or what has helped thee now?" "God and myself. Hear! And what I am about to say are my parting words. In gratitude for thy fifty years' faithful service, I confide to thine ear alone--not to my daughter, and not to Cassiodorus--that which has so long troubled me. Tell me, what is reported among the people? What is believed was the cause of the melancholy which suddenly overcame me, and originated this disease?" "The Italians say that it was remorse for the death of Boëthius and Symmachus." "Didst thou believe this?" "No; I could not believe that the death of traitors could so affect thee." "Thou art in the right. Perhaps, according to law, they were not deserving of death; and I loved Boëthius much. But they were traitors a thousand times! Traitors in their thoughts, traitors to my trust, to my heart. I prized these Romans more than the best of my people. And they showed their gratitude by wishing that my crown were the Emperor's; they wrote flattering letters to the Byzantines; they preferred a Justinus and a Justinian to the friendship of a Theodoric! I am not sorry for them; I despise them. Guess again. What didst thou believe?" "King, thy heir is a youth, and enemies encompass thy throne." The sick man frowned. "This time thou art nearer the mark. I always knew the weakness of my kingdom. When at the evening banquet I have shown the proud face of confidence to the foreign ambassadors, at night I have anxiously sighed at its inward disease. Old man, I know that thou hast often considered me all too confident. But none might see me tremble, neither friend nor foe. Else my throne had trembled. I sighed only when alone, and have borne my care in solitude." "Thou art wisdom itself, my King, and I was a fool!" cried the old man. "Thou seest," continued the King, stroking the old man's hand, "that I knew in what I displeased thee. I knew also thy blind hatred of these Italians. Believe me, it _is_ blind, as was, perhaps, my love of them." Here he stopped and sighed. "Why wilt thou distress thyself?" "No, let me continue! I know that my kingdom--the work of my glorious and toilsome life--may easily fall. Perhaps owing to my generosity to these Romans. Be it so! No work of man is eternal, and the error of over-kindness is easily borne!" "My great King!" "But, Hildebrand, one night, as I was lying awake, anxious about the danger of my kingdom, there rose before my soul the ghost of another sin! Not of too much kindness, but of bloody force! And woe, woe to me, if my nation is to be destroyed in expiation of the crime of Theodoric! His, _his_ image rises before me!" The sick man spoke with difficulty, and lay for a moment overwhelmed with emotion. "Whose image? of whom dost thou speak?" asked the old man softly, bending over him. "Odoacer!" whispered the King, and Hildebrand bowed his head. At last Theodoric broke the painful silence. "Yes, old friend, this right hand, as thou knowest, struck down the mighty hero--my guest--at the banquet-table. His hot blood splashed into my face, and an ardent hate flashed upon me from his filming eyes. A few months past, during the night I speak of, his bloody, pale and angry form rose before me like an avenging god. My heart was contracted, my pulses beat with fever. The fearful conviction came over me that my kingdom would fall and my nation decay, because of this my bloody deed." This time, after a short pause, Hildebrand, looking up defiantly, said: "King, why dost thou fret like a woman? Hast thou not struck down hundreds with thine own arm, and thy people thousands at thy behest? Have we not descended from the mountains into this land in more than thirty battles, wading ankle-deep in blood? What is the blood of _one_ man to all this? And remember the circumstances. For four years he had defied thee as the ure-ox defies the bear. Twice he had driven thee and thy folk to the brink of destruction. Hunger, sword, and pestilence carried off thy Goths. At last, at last, stubborn Ravenna fell, forced by famine. The deadly enemy lay at thy feet. Then a warning came that he contemplated treason; that he would renew the fearful strife; that he would attack thee and thine that night. What couldest thou do? Call him openly to account? If he were guilty, that could do no good, therefore thou wert beforehand with him, and did that to him in the evening which he intended doing to thee at night. That _one_ deed saved thy people, and prevented the renewal of a fearful strife. Thou forgavest all his followers, and for thirty years caused Goths and Italians to live as if in Paradise. And now thou wilt torment thyself with vain remorse? Two nations will ever thank thee for this deed! I--I would have killed him seven times over!" The old man ceased; his eyes flashed; he looked like an angry giant. But the King shook his head. "That is nothing, old warrior! I have repeated the same thing to myself a hundred times, and put it into more flattering forms than is possible to thy rude tongue. All in vain! He was a hero--the only one of my kind--and I murdered him without proof of his guilt, for I was jealous, suspicious, aye, it must be said, I was _afraid_--afraid that I should be compelled again to strive with him. It was, and is, and ever will be a sin! I have found no peace in self-excuses. Since that night his image has followed me unceasingly. At the banquet and in the council-chamber; at the hunt, in the church, waking and sleeping. Then Cassiodorus sent the priests and bishops to me. They could not help me. They heard my confession, saw my grief and my faith, and absolved me from all my sins. But peace came not, and though they forgave me, I could not forgive myself. I know not whether it be the old manner of thought inherited from my heathen ancestors, but I cannot hide myself behind the Cross from the ghost of the murdered man! I cannot believe I am freed from my bloody deed by the blood of an innocent God who died upon the Cross!" Hildebrand's face was suddenly lit up with joy. "Thou knowest," he whispered in the King's ear, "that I could never believe the priests of the Cross. Speak, oh, speak! dost thou still believe in Thor and Odin? Have _they_ helped thee?" The King smiled and shook his head. "No, thou incorrigible old heathen! Thy Walhalla is nothing for me. Hear how I was helped. Yesterday I sent the bishops away, and retired into the recesses of my own heart. I thought and wrestled and entreated God, and I became calmer, and, behold! in the night a deep slumber came upon me, such as I had not known for long months. When I awoke, no fever of torture shook my limbs; I felt composed, and my mind clearer; I felt that no grace or miracle of God could undo the deed that I had committed. I knew that if God be indeed a God of vengeance, He could punish me and my house unto the seventh generation, and I dedicated myself and my kingdom to His eternal vengeance. But, if God be just, He cannot visit the sins committed by their King upon the people of the Goths. No, He will not do that. And if ever this people decay, I feel that it will not be owing to my deed; and thus peace hath entered into my soul, and I can die with courage." He was silent, but Hildebrand bowed his head and kissed the hand which had killed Odoacer. "These are my parting words to thee, my legacy and thanks for a whole life of fidelity. Now let us dedicate the remaining time to the Goths. Come, assist me to rise, I cannot die amid these cushions. There hang my weapons! Give them to me! No objections! I will, and I can!" Hildebrand was obliged to obey. With his help the sick man rose, and threw a purple mantle over his shoulders, girded on his sword, set the low helmet-crown on his head, and supporting himself on the shaft of his heavy lance, leaned his back against the thick Doric column in the middle of the room. "Now call my daughter, and Cassiodorus, and whoever else may be outside." CHAPTER VII. The King remained quietly standing, while Hildebrand threw back the curtains of the door on both sides, so that bed-chamber and ante-room now formed one undivided apartment. All those assembled outside--for many Goths and Romans had entered meanwhile--drew near to the King in astonished and reverent silence. "My daughter," said the King, "are the letters written which are to announce my death and the succession of my grandchild to Byzantium?" "Here they are," answered Amalaswintha. The King rapidly ran through the rolls of papyrus. "To Emperor Justinus.--A second: to his nephew, Justinianus. 'Tis true, he will soon wear the crown, and is already the master of his masters. I see by the fine similes that Cassiodorus has written these letters. But hold!" A cloud passed across his face. "'Recommending my youth to your imperial protection!' Protection! That is too much. Alas! if ever you should be obliged to depend on the protection of Byzantium! 'Recommending myself to your _friendship_, is enough from the grandson of Theodoric." And he gave the letters back. "Still a third letter to Byzantium? To whom? 'To Theodora, the noble spouse of Justinianus?' What! to the dancer of the circus? To the shameless daughter of the lionkeeper?" His eye flashed. "She has great influence upon her husband," interposed Cassiodorus. "No, no. My daughter shall write to no female who has dishonoured the name of her sex." And he tore the roll of papyrus into pieces and threw them on the floor. Then, walking over the fragments, he advanced towards the Goths who stood in the middle of the hall. "My brave Witichis, what will be thy office after my death?" "I shall review our foot at Tridentum." "None could do it better! Never yet hast thou claimed the favour which was granted to thee beforehand, when thou wert victorious over the Gepidæ. Hast thou no wish even now?" "I _have_ a wish, my King." "At last!--that pleases me. Speak." "A poor jailer, for refusing to apply the torture and for striking at a lictor, is himself condemned to be put to the torture to-day. Sire, set the man free! To torture is shameful, and---- "The jailer is free; and from this moment torture is abolished in the kingdom of the Goths. Look to it, Cassiodorus! Brave Witichis, give me thy hand. To show to all how much I honour thee, I bequeath thee Wallada, my chestnut charger, in remembrance of this parting hour. And if ever thou art in danger, or--" here he lowered his voice, "would avoid it, whisper my name into the horse's ear. Who will watch over Neapolis? Duke Thulun was too rough. Those gay people must be won by gentle looks." "Yes. Young Totila will be Count of the Harbour there," answered Cassiodorus. "Totila! a sunny youth! a Siegfrid; a favourite of the gods! No heart can withstand him. But truly, the hearts of these Italians--" He sighed, and then continued, "Who will assure us of Rome and the Senate?" "Cethegus Cæsarius," said Cassiodorus, with a motion of his hand, "this noble Roman." "Cethegus? I know him well. Look at me, Cethegus." Cethegus, thus addressed, reluctantly raised his eyes, which he had quickly cast down before the steady look of the King. But now, collecting himself, he quietly bore the eagle glance which seemed to penetrate his soul. "It was a sickly whim, Cethegus, which made a man of your kind withhold himself so long from affairs of state; and from us. Or it was dangerous. Perhaps it is still more dangerous that you--_now_--again take an interest in politics." "It was not my wish, O King." "I will answer for him!" cried Cassiodorus. "Peace, friend! On earth no one can answer for another!--scarcely for himself! But," he continued with a searching look, "this proud intellect--this Cæsar-like intellect--will not betray Italia to the Greeks." Cethegus had to endure one more sharp look from the golden eagle-eyes. Then the King suddenly grasped his arm, and whispered in his ear: "Listen to my warning. No Roman will ever again flourish on the throne of the Western Empire. Peace! no contradiction. I have warned you. What noise is that outside?" he asked, quickly turning to his daughter; who, in a low voice, was speaking with a Roman messenger. "Nothing, my King; nothing of importance, my father." "What! secrets from me? By my crown! Wilt thou govern while I still breathe? I hear the sound of strange tongues outside. Open the doors!" The doors which divided the outer hall from the ante-room were thrown open. There, in the midst of a number of Goths and Romans, were to be seen several strange and dwarfish forms, clothed in a curious costume, with doublets of wolfskin, pointed caps, and shaggy sheep-skins hanging down their backs. Surprised and impressed by the sudden apparition of the King, they sank upon their knees. "Ah, messengers from the Avarians! Those robber border-ruffians on our eastern boundaries! Have you brought the owing yearly tribute?" "Sire, once again we bring it: skins, woollen carpets, swords, shields. There they hang--there they lie. But we hope that next year--we will see----" "You will see whether the aged Theodoric has become a dotard? You hoped that I was dead? You think that you can refuse the tribute to my successor? You err, spies!" And he took up, as if proving its worth, one of the swords which the messengers had laid at his feet, together with its sheath, held it firmly by hilt and point, and with a slight effort snapped the steel in two, and threw the pieces on the ground. "The Avari carry worthless swords," he said quietly. "Come, Athalaric, heir to my kingdom. They do not believe that thou canst bear the weight of my crown. Show them how thou canst throw my spear." The youth bounded to him. The scarlet hue of ambition flushed his pale face. He swung the heavy spear of his grandfather, and hurled it with such force at a shield which the messengers had leaned against one of the wooden pillars, that it completely pierced it and penetrated deeply into the wood. The King laid his left hand on the head of his grandchild, and said proudly to the messengers: "Now go, and tell at home what you have seen." He turned away; the outer doors were closed, and shut out the amazed Avarians. "Give me a cup of wine. It may possibly be the last! No, unmixed! In Germanic fashion--" he repulsed the Grecian physician. "Thanks, old Hildebrand, for this draught, so faithfully given. I drink prosperity to the Goths!" He slowly emptied the goblet; and with a hand yet firm and strong he replaced it on the marble table. But suddenly, like a flash of lightning, that which the physicians had long expected took place. He staggered, pressed his hand to his heart, and fell backwards into Hildebrand's arms; who, slowly kneeling down, let him gently slide on to the marble pavement, supporting his helm-crowned head. For one moment all present held their breath; but the King did not move, and, with a loud cry, Athalaric threw himself upon the corpse. CHAPTER VIII. There was another man, besides Cassiodorus, who played a most important, and, as it seemed to the Regency, a very deserving part, in those days of transition. This was no other than Cethegus. He had undertaken the momentous office of Prefect of Rome. As soon as the King had closed his eyes for ever, Cethegus had instantly hurried to his place of trust, and had arrived there before the news of the event had reached that city. Before daybreak, he had collected the senators together in the _Senatus_, that is, in the closed hall of Domitian, near the temple of Janus Geminus, on the right of the arch of Septimus Severus, and had surrounded the building with Gothic troops. He informed the surprised senators (many of whom he had only recently met in the Catacombs, and had incited to the expulsion of the barbarians) of the already accomplished succession to the throne. He had also, not without many mild hints as to the spears of the Gothic hundreds, which might easily be seen from the hall, taken their oaths of allegiance to Athalaric with a rapidity that brooked no contradiction. Then he left the "Senatus," where he kept the conscript fathers locked up, until, with the support of the strong Gothic garrison, he had held a meeting of the assembled Romans which he had called in the Flavian amphitheatre, and had won the hearts of the easily-moved "Quirites" for the young King. He enumerated the generous deeds of Theodoric, promised the same beneficence from his grandson, who was, besides, already acknowledged by all Italy and the provinces, and also by the fathers of the city; announced a general feast for the Roman population, with the gift of bread and wine, as the first act of the new government; and concluded with the proclamation of seven days of games in the Circus (races between twenty-four Spanish four-horsed chariots), with which he himself would celebrate the accession of Athalaric, and his own entrance into office. At once a thousand voices shouted, with loud huzzas, the names of the Queen-Regent and her son; and still more loudly the name of Cethegus. Then the people joyously dispersed, the imprisoned senators were released, and the Eternal City was won for the Goths. The Prefect hurried to his house at the foot of the Capitol, locked himself up, and eagerly wrote his report to the Queen-Regent. But he was soon disturbed by a violent knocking upon the iron door of the house. It was Lucius Licinius, the young Roman whom we have already met in the Catacombs. He struck with the hilt of his sword against the door till the house echoed. He was followed by Scævola, the jurist, with portentously frowning brow, who had been amongst the imprisoned senators; and by Silverius, the priest, with doubtful mien. The ostiarius looked prudently through a secret aperture in the wall, and, on recognising Licinius, admitted them. Licinius rushed impetuously before the others through the well-known vestibule and the colonnade of the atrium to the study of Cethegus. When Cethegus heard the hastily-approaching footsteps, he rose from the lectus upon which he was lying writing, and put his letters into a casket with a silver lid. "Ah, the saviours of the fatherland!" he said, smiling, and advanced towards the door. "Vile traitor!" shouted Licinius, his hand on his sword--anger impeded further speech; he half drew his sword from the sheath. "Stop! first let him defend himself, if he can," panted Scævola, holding the young man's arm, as he hastened into the room. "It is impossible that he can have deserted the cause of the Holy Church," said Silverius, as he also entered. "Impossible!" laughed Licinius. "What! are you mad, or am I? Has he not caused us to be confined in our houses? Has he not shut the gates, and taken the oaths of the mob for the barbarians?" "Has he not," continued Cethegus, "caught the noble fathers of the city, three hundred in number, and kept them in the Curia, like so many mice in a trap; three hundred aristocratic mice?" "He dares to mock us? Will you suffer that?" cried Licinius. And Scævola turned pale with anger. "Well, and what would you have done had you been allowed to act?" asked the Prefect quietly, crossing his arms on his broad breast. "What should we have done?" cried Licinius. "What we, and you with us, have a hundred times decided upon. As soon as the news of the tyrant's death had arrived, we should have killed all the Goths in the city, proclaimed a Republic, and chosen two consuls----" "Of the names of Licinius and Scævola; that is the first thing. Well, and then? What then?" "What then? Freedom would have conquered!" "Folly would have conquered!" broke out Cethegus in a thundering voice, which startled his accusers. "Well for us that your hands were bound; you would have strangled Hope for ever. Look here, and thank me upon your knees!" He took some records from another casket, and gave them to his astonished companions. "There; read! The enemy had been warned, and had thrown the noose round the neck of Rome in a masterly manner. If I had not acted as I did, Earl Witichis would be standing at this moment before the Salarian Gate in the north with ten thousand Goths; to-morrow young Totila would have blockaded the mouth of the Tiber on the south with the fleet from Neapolis; and Duke Thulun would have been approaching the Tomb of Hadrian and the Aurelian Gate from the west, with twenty thousand men. If, this morning early, you had touched a hair of a Goth's head, what would have happened?" Silverius breathed again. The others were ashamed and silent. But Licinius took heart. "We should have defied the Goths behind our walls," he said, with a toss of his handsome head. "Yes, when these walls are restored as I will restore them--for eternity, my Licinius: as they are now--not for a day." "Then we had died as free citizens," said Scævola. "You might have done that in the Curie three hours ago," laughed Cethegus, shrugging his shoulders. Silverius stepped forward with open arms, as if to embrace him--Cethegus drew back. "You have saved us all, you have saved Church and fatherland! I never doubted you!" exclaimed the priest. But Licinius grasped the hand of the Prefect, who willingly abandoned it to him. "I _did_ doubt you," he said with charming frankness. "Forgive me, you great Roman! This sword, with which I would have penetrated into your very heart, is henceforward at your service. And when the day of freedom dawns, then no consul, then _salve_, Dictator Cethegus!" He hurried out with flashing eyes. The Prefect cast a satisfied glance after him. "Dictator, yes; but only until the Republic is in full security," said the jurist, and followed Licinius. "To be sure," said Cethegus, with a smile; "then we will wake up Camillus and Brutus, and take up the Republic from the point at which they left it a thousand years ago. Is it not so, Silverius?" "Prefect of Rome," said the priest, "you know that I was ambitious to conduct the affairs of the fatherland as well as of the Church. After this, I am so no more. You shall lead, I will follow. Swear to me only one thing: the freedom of the Roman Church--free choice of a Pope." "Certainly," said Cethegus; "but first Silverius must have become Pope. So be it." The priest departed with a smile upon his lips, but with a weight upon his mind. "Go," said Cethegus, after a pause, looking in the direction taken by his three visitors. "You will never overthrow a tyrant--you need one!" This day and hour were decisive for Cethegus. Almost against his will, he was driven by circumstances to entertain new views, feelings, and plans, which he had never, until now, put to himself so clearly, or confessed to be more than mere dreams. He acknowledged that at this moment he was sole master of the situation. He had the two great parties of the period--the Gothic Government and its enemies--completely in his power. And the principal motive-power in the heart of this powerful man, which he had for years thought paralysed, was suddenly aroused to the greatest activity. The unlimited desire--yes, the necessity--to _govern_, made itself all at once serviceable to all the powers of his rich nature, and excited them to violent emotion. Cornelius Cethegus Cæsarius was the descendant of an old and immensely rich family, whose ancestor had founded the splendour of his house as a general and statesman under Cæsar during the civil wars; it was even rumoured that he was the son of the great Dictator. Our hero had received from nature various talents and violent passions, and his immense riches gave him the means to develop the first and satisfy the last to the fullest extent. He had received the most careful education that was then possible for a young Roman noble. He practised the fine arts under the best teachers; he studied law, history, and philosophy in the famous schools of Berytus, Alexandria, and Athens with brilliant success. But all this did not satisfy him. He felt the breath of decay in all the art and science of his time. In particular, his study of philosophy had only the effect of destroying the last traces of belief in his soul, without affording him any results. When he returned home from his studies, his father, according to the custom of the time, introduced him to political life, and his brilliant talents raised him quickly from office to office. But all at once he abandoned his career. As soon as he had made himself master of the affairs of state, he would no longer be a wheel in the great machine of a kingdom from which freedom was excluded, and which, besides, was subject to a barbarian King. His father died, and Cethegus, being now his own master and possessor of an immense fortune, rushed into the vortex of life, enjoyment, and luxury with all the passion of his nature. He soon exhausted Rome, and travelled to Byzantium, into Egypt, and even as far as India. There was no luxury, no innocent or criminal pleasure, in which he did not revel; only a well-steeled frame could have borne the adventures, privations, and dissipations of these journeys. After twelve years of absence, he returned to Rome. It was said that he would build magnificent edifices. People expected that he would lead a luxurious life in his houses and villas. They were sadly deceived. Cethegus only built for himself the convenient little house at the foot of the Capitol, which he decorated in the most tasteful manner; and there he lived in populous Rome like a hermit. He unexpectedly published a description of his travels, characterising the people and countries which he had visited. The book had an unheard-of success. Cassiodorus and Boëthius sought his friendship, and the great King invited him to his court. But on a sudden he disappeared from Rome. What had happened remained a mystery, in spite of all malicious, curious, or sympathetic inquiries. People told each other that one morning a poor fisherman had found Cethegus unconscious, almost dead, on the shores of the Tiber, outside the gates of the city. A few weeks later he again was heard of on the north-east frontier of the kingdom, in the inhospitable regions of the Danube, where a bloody war with the Gepidae, Avari, and Sclavonians was raging. There he fought the savage barbarians with death-despising courage, and followed them with a few chosen troops, paid from his private means, into their rocky fortresses, sleeping every night upon the frozen ground. And once, when the Gothic general entrusted to him a larger detachment of troops in order to make an inroad, instead of doing this, he attacked and took Sirmium, the enemy's fortified capital, displaying no less good generalship than courage. After the conclusion of peace, he travelled into Gaul, Spain, and again to Byzantium; returned thence to Rome, and lived for years in an embittered idleness and retirement, refusing all the military, civil, or scientific offices and honours which Cassiodorus pressed, upon him. He appeared to take no interest in anything but his studies. A few years before the period at which our story commences, he had brought with him from Gaul a handsome youth, to whom he showed Rome and Italy, and whom he treated with fatherly love and care. It was said that he would adopt him. As long as his young guest was with him he ceased his lonely life, invited the aristocratic youth of Rome to brilliant feasts in his villas, and, accepting all invitations in return, proved himself the most amiable of guests. But as soon as he had sent young Julius Montanus, with a stately suite of pedagogues, freedmen, and slaves, to the learned schools of Alexandria, he suddenly broke off all social ties, and retired into impenetrable solitude, seemingly at war with God and the whole world. Silverius and Rusticiana had, with the greatest difficulty, persuaded him to sacrifice his repose, and join in the conspiracy of the Catacombs. He told them that he only became a patriot from tedium. And, in fact, until the death of the King, he had taken part in the conspiracy--the conduct of which, however, was wholly in his and the archdeacon's hands--almost with dislike. It was now otherwise. Until now, the inmost sentiment of his being--the desire to test himself in all possible fields of intellectual effort; to overcome all difficulties; to outdo all rivals; to govern, alone and without resistance, every circle that he entered; and, when he had won the crown of victory, carelessly to cast it aside and seek for new tasks--all this had never permitted him to find full satisfaction in any of his aims. Art, science, luxury, office, fame. Each of these had charmed him. He had excelled in all to an unusual degree, and yet all had left a void in his soul. To govern, to be the first, to conquer opposing circumstances with all his means of superior power and wisdom, and then to rule crouching men with a rod of iron; this, consciously and unconsciously, had always been his aim. In this alone could he find contentment. Therefore he now breathed proudly and freely. His icy heart glowed at the thought that he ruled over the two great inimical powers of the time, over both Goths and Romans, with a mere glance of his eye; and from this exquisite feeling of mastery, the conviction arose with demonic force, that there remained but one goal for him and his ambition that was worth living for; but one goal, distant as the sun, and out of the reach of every other man. He believed in his descent from Julius Cæsar, and felt the blood rush through his veins at the thought--Cæsar, Emperor of the West, ruler of the Roman Empire! A few months ago, when this thought first flashed across his mind--not even a thought, not a wish, only a shadow, a dream--he was startled, and could not help smiling at his own boundless assurance. _He_, Emperor and regenerator of the Empire! And Italy trembled under the footsteps of three hundred thousand Goths! And the greatest of all barbarian kings, whose fame filled the earth, sat on his powerful throne in Ravenna! Even if the power of the Goths were broken, the Franks and Byzantines would stretch their greedy hands over the Alps and across the sea to seize the Italian booty. Two great kingdoms against a single man! For, truly, he stood alone amid his people. How well he knew, how utterly he despised his countrymen, the unworthy descendants of great ancestors! How he laughed at the enthusiasm of a Licinius or a Scævola, who thought to renew the days of the Republic with these degenerate Romans! He stood alone. But the feeling only excited his ambition, and, at that moment, when the conspirators had left him, when his superiority had been more plainly proved than ever before, the thoughts which had been a flattering amusement of his moody hours, suddenly ripened and formed themselves into a clear resolve. Folding his arms across his mighty chest, and measuring the apartment with heavy steps, like a lion in his cage, he spoke to himself in abrupt sentences: "To drive out the Goths and prevent Franks and Greeks from entering, would not be difficult, with a brave host at one's back; any other man could do it. But alone, quite alone, more hindered than helped by these knaves without marrow in their bones; to accomplish the impossible; to make these cowards heroes; these slaves, Romans; these servants of the priests and barbarians, masters of the world; that, _that_ is worth the trouble. To create a new people, a new time, a new world, with the power of his single will and the might of his intellect, is what no mortal has yet accomplished--that would be greater than Cæsar!--_he_ led legions of heroes! and yet, it can be done, for it can be imagined. And I, who can imagine it, can do it. Yes, Cethegus, that is an aim for which it is easy to think, to live, to die! Up, and to work! and henceforward, no thought, no feeling, except for this one thing!" He stood still at last before a colossal statue of Cæsar, sculptured in Parian marble, which--a masterpiece of Arkesilaus, and, according to family tradition, given by Julius Cæsar himself to his son--stood before the writing-divan, the most sacred treasure of the house. "Hear me, divine Cæsar! great ancestor!" exclaimed Cethegus, "thy descendant dares to rival thee! There is still something higher than anything which thou hast reached; even to soar at a higher quarry than thou, is immortal; and to fall--to fall from such a height--is the most glorious death. Hail! Once again I know why I live!" He passed the statue, and threw a glance at some military maps of the Roman Empire, which lay unrolled upon the table. "First trample upon these barbarians: Rome! Then once more subdue the North: Paris! Then reduce the rebellious East to its old subjection to the Cæsar-city: Byzantium! and farther, even farther, to the Tigris, to the Indus; farther than Alexander; and back to the West, through Scythia and Germania, to the Tiber; the path, Cæsar, which Brutus' dagger cut off for thee. And so to be greater than thou, greater than Alexander----hold, my thought! Enough!" And the heart of the icy Cethegus flamed and glowed; the veins of his temples throbbed violently; he pressed his burning forehead against the cold marble breast of Julius Cæsar, who majestically looked down upon him. CHAPTER IX. The day of the King's death was not only decisive for Cethegus, but also for the conspiracy in the Catacombs, for Italy, and for the Gothic kingdom. Although the intrigues of the patriots--led by different men, who were not agreed upon the means, nor even upon the aims of their plots--had, till now, made slow and doubtful progress, this state of things was completely altered from the moment when Cethegus took the conduct of affairs into his own strong hands. Only then did the conspiracy become really dangerous to the Goths. Cethegus untiringly sought to undermine the security of their kingdom. With his great capacity for winning and governing men, and penetrating their motives, he was able daily to increase the number of important members and the means of success. He understood how to avoid the suspicion of the Goths on the one hand, and to prevent any untimely rebellion on the other. For it would have been easy to attack the barbarians in all the towns of the Peninsula on some special day, and to call upon the Byzantines--who had long since been on the watch for such a crisis--to complete the conquest. But in this way the Prefect would not have been able to carry out his secret plans. He would merely have put Byzantine tyranny in the place of Gothic rule. And we know that he had very different intentions. In order to fulfil them, he wished first to create for himself a power in Italy, greater than any other man possessed. Before the foot of a Byzantine was set upon Italian soil, he must become--although in secret--the mightiest man in the country. All must be so prepared that the barbarians should be driven away by Italy itself, that is, by Cethegus, with the least possible help from Byzantium; so that, after the victory, the Emperor could not avoid giving the dominion over the country to its saviour, even if only as a governor. Then he would soon gain time and opportunity to excite the national pride of the Romans against the rule of the "Greek-lings," as they contemptuously called the Byzantines. For, although for two hundred years--since the days of the great Constantine--the glory of the Empire of the world had been removed from widowed Rome to the golden town on the Hellespont, and the sceptre of the sons of Romulus seemed to have passed over to the Greeks; though East and West formed _one_ state of antique culture opposed to the barbarian world; yet even now the Romans hated and despised the Greeks as much as in the days when Flaminius declared humbled Hellas to be a freedman of Rome. The old hate was now increased by envy. Therefore Cethegus was sure of the enthusiasm and support of all Italy, which, after the removal of the barbarians, would also banish the Byzantines from the country; and the crown of Rome, the crown of the Western Empire, would be his certain reward. And if he succeeded in exciting the newly-awakened national feeling to an offensive war on the other side of the Alps, when he had again erected the throne of the Roman Empire on the ruins of the Frankish Kingdom at Orleans and Paris, then the attempt would not be too rash once again to subdue the Eastern Empire and continue the Empire of the World in the Eternal City from the point at which Trajan and Hadrian had left it. In order to reach this distant and shining goal, every step on the dizzy path must be taken with the greatest prudence; any stumble might precipitate him into an abyss. In order to gain his end, Cethegus must first of all make sure of Rome; on Rome alone could his plans be based. Therefore the new Prefect bestowed the greatest care upon the city that had been entrusted to him. He wished to make Rome, morally and physically, his surety of dominion, belonging alone to him, and not to be wrested from him. His office gave him the best pretext for carrying out his plans. Was it not the duty of the _Præfectus Urbi_ to care for the well-being of the populace, and for the preservation and security of the city? He understood perfectly well how to use the rights of his office for the furtherance of his own aims. He easily won the sympathies of all ranks; the nobles honoured in him the head of the conspiracy; he governed the clergy through Silverius, who was the right hand of the pope, and, by public opinion, appointed his successor, and who showed to the Prefect a devotion that was even surprising to its object. He gained the common people, not only by occasional gifts of bread, and games in the Circus, but also by promoting great undertakings, which, at the cost of the Gothic Government, provided work and sustenance for thousands. He persuaded Amalaswintha to give orders that the fortifications of Rome, which had suffered much more since the reign of Honorius from the inroads of time and the selfishness of Roman architects, than from the Visigoths and Vandals, should be quickly and completely restored "to the honour of the Eternal City, and," as she imagined, "for protection against the Byzantines." Cethegus himself, and, as was afterwards proved by the unsuccessful sieges of the Goths and Byzantines, with great strategic genius, made the plan of the magnificent works. With the greatest zeal he set about the gigantic task of transforming the immense city, with its circumference of many miles, into a stronghold of the first rank. The thousands of workmen, who well knew to whom they owed their well-paid employment, applauded the Prefect whenever he showed himself upon the ramparts, to examine what progress had been made, or excite to new industry, and, sometimes, to put his own hand to the work. And the deceived Princess assigned one million _solidi_ after another for the expenses of fortifications, against which the whole power of her people was shortly to be wrecked and annihilated. The most important point of these fortifications was the Tomb of Hadrian, known now under the name of Castle St. Angelo. This magnificent edifice, built of blocks of Parian marble, which were laid one upon the other without any uniting cement, lay, at that time, about a stone's-throw from the Aurelian Grate, the flanking walls of which it by far overtopped. Cethegus had seen at a glance that this incomparably strong building, which until now had been designed for offence _against_ the city, might, by very simple means, be converted into a powerful bulwark of defence _for_ the city; he caused two walls to be built from the Aurelian Grate towards and around the Mausoleum. And soon the towering marble castle formed an assault-proof rampart for the Aurelian Grate, so much the more because the Tiber formed a natural fosse close before it. On the top of the wall of the Mausoleum stood about three hundred of the most beautiful statues of bronze, marble, and iron, mostly placed there by Hadrian and his successors. Amongst them were that of the Divus Hadrianus; his beautiful favourite Antinous; a Jupiter of Soter; a Pallas "town-protectress;" and many others. Cethegus rejoiced at the fulfilment of his ideas, and became exceedingly fond of this place, where he used to wander every evening with his beloved Rome spread out at his feet, examining the progress of the works. He had even caused a number of beautiful statues from his own villas to be added to those already existing, in order to increase the splendour of his creation. CHAPTER X. Cethegus was obliged to be more prudent in the execution of a second plan, not less necessary for the success of his projects. In order to be able to defy the Goths, and, if needful, the Greeks, from within _his_ Rome, as he loved to call it, he was in want--not only of walls, but of soldiers to defend them. At first he thought of mercenaries, of a body-guard such as had been often kept by high officials, statesmen and generals in those times, such as Belisarius and Narses possessed in Byzantium. It would have been very easy for him, by means of his riches and the connections he had formed during his travels in Asia, to hire brave troops of the savage Isaurian mountain people, who then played the part of the Swiss of the sixteenth century; but this procedure had two very straitened limits. On the one side he could not, without exhausting the means that were indispensable for other purposes, keep more than a comparatively small band, the kernel of an army, not an army itself. On the other side it was impossible to bring these mercenaries in larger numbers to Italy or Rome, without arousing suspicion. He was obliged to smuggle them over with much cunning--by pairs, singly, or in small groups, to his scattered villas and estates, as his slaves, freedmen, clients, or guests; and to employ them as sailors and ship-officials in the harbour of Ostia, or as workmen in Rome. Lastly, the Romans themselves would, after all, have to save and defend Rome, and all his plans urged him to re-accustom his fellow-citizens to the use of arms. But Theodoric had wisely excluded the Italians from the army--exceptions were only made in favour of persons who were considered as particularly reliable and in the late unquiet times of his reign, during the process against Boëthius, he had issued orders for the general disarming of all Romans. This measure had certainly never been strictly carried out, but still Cethegus dared not hope that the Queen-Regent would allow him, against the expressed will of her august father and the evident interests of the Goths, to form any considerable forces of Italians. He contented himself with representing to her, that, by means of a very innocent concession, she could procure for herself the merit of having cancelled Theodoric's hateful measure by a noble trust; proposing to her that she should allow him to drill and keep under arms only two thousand Roman citizens as a guard for the city; the Romans would be for ever grateful to her that the city did not appear to be solely protected by barbarians. Amalaswintha, who was enthusiastic about Rome, and whose dearest wish was to gain the love of the Romans, gave her consent, and Cethegus began to form his militia, as we should call it. In a proclamation, which sounded like a trumpet-call, he "bid the sons of Scipio take up their old weapons." He promised to double the pay fixed upon by the Princess from his own pocket, to any Roman who voluntarily presented himself. From the thousands who pressed forward he chose the most able. He armed the poor; gave to those who distinguished themselves in the service, Gallic helmets and Spanish swords from his own collections; and, as the most important step, he regularly discharged those who were sufficiently drilled as soon as possible, leaving them their weapons, and enlisted new recruits, so that although at no time more were on the service than the number allowed by Amalaswintha, yet, in an incredibly short space of time, many thousands of armed and practised Romans were at the disposal of their adored leader. While Cethegus added in this manner to the strength of his future capital and formed his future pretorians, he put off his co-conspirators, who constantly urged him to strike, and comforted them with the hope that the proper moment would soon arrive, which, however, he alone could determine. At the same time he kept up constant communication with Byzantium. He wanted to make sure of assistance thence, which could appear upon the scene of action at any hour in which he might desire it, but which would not come without a call, or in such force that it could not easily be again removed. He wished for a good general from Byzantium, who, however, must not be a great statesman; bringing an army sufficiently powerful to support the Italians, but not strong enough to gain the victory without them, or to remain in the country against their will. We shall see later how, with regard to this, much occurred in accordance with the Prefect's wishes, but just as much against them. As to the Goths--who at this time were in undisturbed possession of the booty for which Cethegus already mentally quarrelled with the Emperor-- all his endeavour was to rock them into unsuspicious security, to split them into parties, and to uphold a weak government at their head. The first task was not difficult; for that strong Teutonic race despised, with barbarian pride, all open and secret foes--we have already seen how difficult it was to convince such a youth as Totila, who was otherwise sharp-sighted and clear-headed, of the approach of danger--and the stubborn trust of Hildebrand fully expressed the general disposition of the Goths. Party spirit was also not wanting in this people. There were the proud race of the Balthe, with their widely-spread kindred; at their head the three Dukes, Thulun, Ibba, and Pitza. The rich Wölfungs, under the two brothers, Duke Guntharis and Earl Arahad; and many others, who were not much inferior to the Amelungs in the splendour of their ancestry, and jealously guarded their position near the throne. There were also many who endured the guardianship of a woman and the rule of a boy with strong dislike, and who would gladly, according to the ancient rights of the nation, have passed over the royal line, and chosen one of the tried heroes of the nation for their King, But the Amelungs counted many blindly-devoted adherents, who abhorred such sentiments as treasonable. And, lastly, the whole nation was divided into two parties, one of which, long discontented with the clemency shown to the Italians by Theodoric and his daughter, would gladly have retrieved the mistake which, as they thought, had been made when the country was conquered, and punished the Italians for their secret hate with open violence. The number of those who held milder and nobler opinions--who, like Theodoric himself, were more susceptible to the higher culture of the subjected Italians, and desirous to raise themselves and their people to the same level--was naturally much smaller. At the head of this party stood the Queen. This woman Cethegus now sought to uphold in the possession of power; for her feminine, weak, and divided government was calculated to undermine the strength of the nation, to excite party spirit and discontent, and to exclude all augmentation of national feeling. Cethegus trembled at the thought that he might see an energetic man unite the strength of the whole nation. And often the traits of sublimity which occasionally were to be seen in Amalaswintha, and, still more, the fiery sparks of repressed feeling which sometimes blazed out in Athalaric's soul, caused him serious uneasiness. Should mother and son betray such feelings more frequently, then, certainly, he would be compelled to overthrow their government as zealously as he had hitherto upheld it. Meanwhile he rejoiced in the unlimited command which he possessed over the mind of Amalaswintha. It had been easy for him to gain it; not only because he, with great subtlety, took advantage of her predilection for learned discussions--in which he was so often vanquished by the seemingly superior knowledge of the Princess that Cassiodorus, who was a witness of their arguments, could not refrain from regretting that the genius of Cethegus, once so brilliant, had rusted for want of practice--but he had touched the proud woman on a much more sensitive subject. Her great father had been blessed with no son; only this one daughter had been born unto him. The wish for a male heir had been often heard in the mouths of the King and of his people, and had penetrated to the daughter's ears in her childish years. It outraged the feelings of the highly-gifted girl that, merely on account of her sex, she should be put lower than a possible brother, who, as a matter of course, would be more capable and more worthy of governing. So, when a child, she often wept bitter tears because she was not a boy. Of course, as she grew up, she only heard the offensive wish from the lips of her father; every other mouth praised the wonderful talent, the manly spirit and courage of the brilliant Princess. And these praises were not flattery; Amalaswintha was, indeed, a wonderful creature. The strength of her will, the power of her intellect, her love of authority, and cold abruptness of manner, far exceeded the limits which generally bound the sphere of feminine grace. The consciousness that when her hand was bestowed, the highest position in the kingdom, and perhaps the crown itself, would be given with it, did not contribute to render her more modest; and her deepest, strongest sentiment was no longer the wish to be a man, but the conviction that, even as a woman, she was as capable of performing all the duties of life and of government as the most gifted man--much more capable than most men--and that she was fated to refute the general prejudice, and to prove the equality of her sex. The married life of this cold woman with Eutharic, a member of another branch of the family, a man of a genial temperament and high intellect, was of short duration--in a few years Eutharic fell a victim to disease--and not at all happy. She had unwillingly obeyed her husband, and, as a widow, gloried in her freedom. She burnt with the desire to verify her favourite theory in her position as Queen-regent and guardian of her son. She would govern in such a manner, that the proudest man must acknowledge her superiority. We have seen how the anticipation of ruling had enabled her to bear the death of her great father with considerable equanimity. She assumed her high office with the greatest zeal and the most untiring activity. She wished to do everything alone. She thrust aside the aged Cassiodorus, for he was unable to keep pace with the eagerness of her spirit. She would endure no man's advice, and jealously watched over her absolute monarchy. To none but one of her servants did she willingly and frequently lend her ear: to him who often and loudly praised the manly independence of her mind, and still more often seemed to admire it in secret, and who appeared incapable of conceiving the desire to govern any of her actions: she trusted Cethegus alone. For he constantly evinced only _one_ ambition--that of carrying out all the ideas and plans of the Queen with the most zealous care. He never opposed her favourite endeavours, like Cassiodorus and the heads of the Gothic parties, but supported her therein. He helped her to surround herself with Greeks and Romans; to exclude the young king, as far as possible, from all share in the government; gradually to remove from the court the old Gothic friends of her father, who, in the consciousness of their services and according to old custom, often took upon themselves to speak a word of open blame; to use the money which was intended for men-of-war, horses, and the armament of the Gothic forces, for art and science, or for the embellishment, preservation, and security of Rome; in short, he aided her in every act that would estrange her from her people, or render her government an object of hatred, and her kingdom defenceless. And if he himself had a plan he always knew how to give his transactions with the Queen such a turn, that she considered herself the promoter of every scheme, and ordered him to execute his most secret wishes as _her_ commands. CHAPTER XI. In order to gain and support this influence, it can easily be understood that Cethegus was forced to be more at court, and oftener absent from Rome, than was advantageous for his interests in that city. He therefore endeavoured to bring persons into close connection with the Queen, who would, in part, take his place, warmly defend his interests, and keep him _au fait_ of all that passed in the court of Ravenna. Many Gothic nobles had left the court in anger, and it was necessary to replace their wives in their office near the Queen; and Cethegus determined to use this opportunity to bring Rusticiana, the daughter of Symmachus and wife of Boëthius, once more to court. It was no easy task. For the family of Boëthius, who had been executed as a traitor, had been banished the capital. Before anything could be done, the feeling which the Queen entertained towards this family must be completely altered. Cethegus, however, soon succeeded in appealing to the compassion and magnanimity of Amalaswintha, who possessed a noble heart. At the same time she had never really believed in the unproved guilt of the two noble Romans, one of whom, the husband of Rusticiana, she had honoured as an extremely learned man, and, in some points, as her teacher. Cethegus proved to her that by showing favour to this family, either as an act of grace or of justice, she would touch the hearts of all her Roman subjects, and he thus easily persuaded her to pardon the deeply degraded family. It was much more difficult to persuade the proud and passionate widow of the murdered man to accept this favour, for her whole soul was filled with bitterness against the royal house, and thirst for revenge. Cethegus even feared that when she was in the presence of the "tyrants," her ungovernable hatred might betray itself. In spite of the great influence he had over her, she had repeatedly rejected this plan. Matters had come to this pass, when, one day, Rusticiana made a discovery which shortly led to the fulfilment of the Prefect's wish. Rusticiana had a daughter of scarcely sixteen years of age, named Camilla. She was a lovely girl, with a face of the true Roman type, with nobly-formed features and chiselled lips. Intense feeling beamed from her dark eyes; her figure, slender almost to delicacy, was elegant and light as that of a gazelle, and all her movements were agile and graceful. She had loved her unhappy father with all the energy of filial devotion. The stroke that had laid his beloved head low had entered deeply into her own young life; and inconsolable and sacred grief, mixed with passionate admiration for his heroism, filled all her youthful thoughts. A welcome guest at court before her father's death, she had fled with her mother after the catastrophe over the Alps to Gaul, where they had found an asylum with an old friend, while Anicius and Severinus, Camilla's brothers, who had been also condemned, but who were afterwards reprieved and sent into banishment, hastened at once to the court at Byzantium, where they tried to move heaven and earth against the barbarians. When the first heat of persecution had abated, the two women had returned to Italy, and led a retired life in the house of one of their faithful freedmen at Perusia, whence, as we have seen, Rusticiana had easily found means to join the conspiracy in Rome. It was in June, that season of the year when the Roman aristocracy--then as at this day--fled the sultry air of the towns, and sought a refuge in their cool villas on the Sabine mountains, or at the sea-coast. The two noble women, used to every luxury, felt extremely ill at ease in the hot and narrow streets of Perusia, and thought with regret of their beautiful villas in Florence and Neapolis, which, together with all the rest of their fortune, had been confiscated by the Gothic Government. One day, their faithful servant, Corbulo, came to Rusticiana with a strangely embarrassed expression of countenance, and explained to her "how, having long since noticed how much the 'Patrona' suffered under his unworthy roof, and had to endure much annoyance from his handiwork--he being a mason--he had bought a small, a very small, estate, with a still smaller house, in the mountains near Tifernum. However, she must not compare it with the villa near Florentia; but still there ran a little brook near it, which never dried up, even under the dog-star; oaks and cornel-trees gave broad and pleasant shade; ivy grew luxuriantly over a ruined Temple of Faunus; and in the garden he had planted roses, lilies, and violets, such as Donna Camilla loved; and so he hoped that they would mount their mules or litter, and go to their villa like other noble dames." The ladies, much touched by their old servant's fidelity, gratefully accepted his kindness, and Camilla, who rejoiced like a child in the anticipation of a little change, was more cheerful and animated than she had ever been since her father's death. Impatiently she urged their departure, and hurried off beforehand the very same day, with Corbulo and his daughter, Daphnidion, leaving her mother to follow as soon as possible with the slaves and baggage. The sun was already sinking behind the hills of Tifernum when Corbulo, leading Camilla's mule by the bridle, reached an open place in the wood, from whence they first caught sight of the little estate. He had long pleased himself with the thought of the young girl's surprise when he should show her the prettily situated villa. But he suddenly stood still, struck with surprise; he held his hand before his eyes, fancying that the evening sun dazzled him; he looked around to see if he were really in the right place; but there was no doubt about it! There stood, on the ridge where wood and meadow met, the grey border-stone, in the form of the old frontier-god Terminus, with his pointed head. It was the right place, but the little house was nowhere to be seen; where it should have been, was a thick group of pines and plantains; and besides this, the whole place was changed; green hedges and flowerbeds stood where once cabbages and turnips grew; and where sandpits and the high-road had, till now, marked the limits of his modest property, rose an elegant pavilion. "The Mother of God and all the superior gods save me!" Cried the mason; "some magic must be at work!" His daughter hastily handed him the amulet that she carried at her girdle; but she was no wiser than he, for it was the first time that she had visited the new property; and so there was nothing left but to drive the mules forward as fast as possible. Father and daughter, leaping from stone to stone, accompanied the trotting mules to the bottom of the declivity with cries of encouragement. As they approached, Corbulo certainly discovered the house that he had bought behind the group of trees, but so changed, renewed, and beautified, that he scarcely recognised it. His astonishment at the transformation of the whole place tended to increase his superstitious fears. His mouth opened wide, he let the reins fall, stood stock-still, and he was beginning another wonderful speech, intermixed with heathen and Christian interjections, when Camilla, equally astounded, called out: "But that is the garden where we once lived, the Viridarium of Honorius at Ravenna! The same trees, the same flower-beds, and, by the lake, the little Temple of Venus, just as it once stood on the sea-shore at Ravenna! Oh, how beautiful! What a faithful memory! Corbulo, how did you manage it?" and tears of grateful emotion filled her eyes. "The devil and all the Lemures take me, if I had anything to do with it! But there comes Cappadox with his club foot; he at least is not bewitched. Speak, then, Cyclops, what has happened here?" Cappadox, a gigantic, broad-shouldered slave, came limping along with an uncouth smile, and after many questions, told a puzzling tale. About three weeks ago, a few days after he had been sent to the estate to manage it for his master, who had gone to the marble quarries of Luna, there came from Tifernum a noble Roman with a troop of slaves and workmen and heavily-packed wagons. He inquired if this was the estate bought by the sculptor Corbulo of Perusia for the widow of Boëthius. Upon being answered in the affirmative, he had introduced himself as the Hortulanus Princeps, that is, the superior intendant of the gardens at Ravenna. An old friend of Boëthius--who wished not to tell his name, for fear of the Gothic tyrants--desired to care for his family in secret, and had given orders that their summer residence should be improved and embellished with all possible art. He (Cappadox) was by no means to spoil the intended surprise, and, half-kindly, half by force, they had kept him fast in the villa. Then the intendant had immediately made his plan, and set his men to work. Many neighbouring fields were bought at a high price; and there began such a pulling-down and building-up, such a planting and digging, hammering and knocking, such a cleaning and painting, that it had made him both blind and deaf. When he ventured to meddle or ask questions the workmen laughed in his face. "And," concluded Cappadox, "it went on in this way till the day before yesterday. Then they had finished, and went away. At first I was afraid, and trembled when I saw all these splendid things growing out of the earth. I thought, if Master Corbulo has to pay for all this, then mercy on my poor back! and I wanted to come and tell you. But they would not let me go; and besides, I knew you were not at home. And when I saw what a ridiculous amount of money the intendant had with him, and how he threw the gold pieces about, as children throw pebbles, I got easier by degrees, and let things go on as they would. Now, master, I know well that you can set me in the stocks, and have me whipped with the vine-branch or even with the scorpion; for you are the master, and Cappadox the servant. But, master, it would scarcely be just! By all the saints and all the gods! For you set me over a few cabbage-fields, and see! they have become an Emperor's garden under my care!" Camilla had long since dismounted and disappeared, when the servant ended his account. Her heart beating with joy, she hurried through the garden, the bowers, the house; she flew as if on wings; the active Daphnidion could scarcely follow her. Repeated cries of astonishment and pleasure escaped her lips. Whenever she turned the corner of a path, or round a group of trees, a new picture of the garden at Ravenna met her delighted eyes. But when she entered the house, and in it found a small room painted, furnished, and decorated exactly like the room in the Imperial Palace, in which she had played away the last days of her childhood, and dreamed the first dreams of her maidenhood; the same pictures upon the hempen tapestry; the same vases and delicate citrean-wood[2] boxes; and, upon the same small tortoise-shell table, her pretty little harp with its swan's wings; overpowered by so many remembrances, and still more by the feeling of gratitude for such tender friendship, she sank sobbing on the soft cushions of the lectus. Scarcely could Daphnidion calm her. "There are still noble hearts in the world; there are still friends of the house of Boëthius!" and she breathed a prayer of deep thankfulness to Heaven. When her mother arrived the next day, she was scarcely less moved by the strange surprise. She wrote at once to Cethegus in Rome, and asked: "In which of her husband's friends she should seek this secret benefactor?" Within her heart she hoped that it might turn out to be himself. But the Prefect shook his head over her letter and wrote back: "He knew no one of whom this delicate mode of proceeding reminded him. She should carefully watch for every trace that might lead to the solving of the riddle." It was not long ere it was solved. Camilla was never tired of traversing the garden, and continually discovering resemblances to its well-known original. She often extended her rambles beyond the park into the neighbouring wood. She was generally accompanied by the merry Daphnidion, whose similar youth and faithful affection soon won her confidence. Daphnidion had repeatedly remarked to her that they must be followed by a wood-sprite, for it often snapped in the branches and rustled in the grass near them, and yet there nowhere was a man or an animal to be seen. But Camilla laughed at her superstition, and often persuaded her to venture out again, far away under the green shadows of the elms and plantains. One hot day, as the two girls penetrated deeper and deeper into the greenwood they discovered a clear-running spring, that issued copiously from a dark porphyry rock. But it had no decided channel, and the thirsty maidens with difficulty collected the single silvery drops. "What a pity!" cried Camilla, "the delicious water! You should have seen the fountain of the Tritons in the Pinetum[3] at Ravenna. How prettily the water rushed from the inflated cheeks of the bronze sea-god, into the wide shell of brown marble! What a pity!" And they passed on. Some days after they both came again to the same place. Daphnidion, who was walking in front, suddenly stood still with a loud scream, and silently pointed at the spring. The woodland streamlet had been enclosed. From a bronze Triton's head the water fell, in a bright stream, into a delicate shell of brown marble. Daphnidion, now firmly believing in some magic, turned to fly without further ado; her hands pressed over her eyes, so as not to see the wood-sprite, which was considered to be extremely dangerous, she fled towards the house, calling loudly to her mistress to follow her. But a thought flashed through Camilla's mind. The spy who had lately followed them was certainly in the vicinity, revelling in their astonishment. She looked carefully about her. The blossoms of a 'wild rose-bush fell from its shaking boughs to the earth. She quickly stepped towards the thicket, and lo! a young hunter, with spear and game-bag, advanced towards her from out the bushes. "I am discovered," he said, in a low, shy voice. He looked very handsome in his embarrassment. But, with a cry of fear, Camilla started back. "Athalaric!" she stammered, "the King!" A whole sea of thoughts and feelings rushed through her brain and heart, and, half fainting, she sank upon, the grassy bank beside the spring. The young King, alarmed and delighted, stood for a few moments speechless before the tender figure lying at his feet. Thirstily his burning eye dwelt upon the beautiful features and noble form. A vivid flush shot like lightning over his pale face. "Oh, she--she is my death!" he breathed, pressing both hands to his beating heart. "To die now--to die with her!" Camilla moved her arm, which movement brought him to his senses; he kneeled down beside her, and wetted her temples with the cool water of the spring. She opened her eyes. "Barbarian! murderer!" she cried shrilly, thrust his hand away, sprang up, and fled like a frightened doe. Athalaric made no attempt to follow her. "Barbarian! murderer!" he murmured to himself, in great grief, and buried his glowing forehead in his hands. CHAPTER XII. Camilla came home in such extreme excitement, that Daphnidion would not be convinced that she had not seen the nymphs, or even the venerable sylvan god, Picus, himself. But the maiden threw herself with wild emotion into the arms of her alarmed mother. The strife of confused feelings within her resolved itself into a flood of hot tears, and only later was she able to answer Rusticiana's anxious questions. A terrible struggle was taking place in the soul of this child. At the court of Ravenna it had not escaped the growing girl that the dark eyes of the beautiful Athalaric often rested upon her with a strange and dreamy expression, and that he eagerly listened to every tone of her voice. But a suspicion of deeper affection had never entered into her mind. The Prince, reserved and shy, cast down his eyes whenever she met his look with an unembarrassed and inquisitive glance. Were they not both at that time almost children? She did not know how to interpret Athalaric's manner--he scarcely could do so himself--and it had never occurred to her to reflect why she so gladly lived near him; why she liked to follow the bold flights of his thoughts and imaginations, differing so much from those of all other playfellows; why she loved to wander silently through the quiet gardens in the evening-light by the side of the silent boy, who often, in the midst of his reverie, addressed her with abrupt, but always significant, words; whose poetical feelings--the feelings of enthusiastic youth--she so completely understood and appreciated. The tender tissue of this budding inclination was violently torn by the catastrophe of her father's death, and not only gentle sorrow for the murdered man, but glowing hatred of his murderers, took possession of the passionate Roman girl's soul. At all times Boëthius, even when in the height of his favour at court, had displayed a haughty condescension to the barbarism of the Goths, and, since the catastrophe, all Camilla's companions--her mother, her two brothers (who thirsted for vengeance), and the friends of the house--breathed hatred and contempt, not only for the bloody murderer and tyrant, Theodoric, but for all Goths, and particularly for the daughter and grandson of the King, who, in their eyes, shared his guilt because they had not hindered it. So the maiden had almost ceased to think of Athalaric, and if he were named, or if, as often happened, his picture entered into her dreams, her hatred of the barbarians was concentrated in a feeling of the greatest abhorrence towards him, perhaps just because, in the depths of her heart, there lurked an involuntary suspicion of the secret inclination which she nourished for the handsome and noble youth. And now--now he had dared to lay a snare for her unsuspicious heart! No sooner had she seen him step from the bushes--no sooner did she recognise him, than she at once understood that it was he who had not only enclosed the spring, but caused the alteration of the whole estate. He, the hated enemy; he, the offspring of the cursed race which had shed the blood of her father: the King of the Goths! The joy with which, during the last few days, she had examined house and garden, was now changed into bitterness. The deadly enemy of her people, of her race, had dared to enrich her; to give her pleasure; to make her happy; for him she had breathed thankful prayers to Heaven! He had been bold enough to follow her steps, to listen to her words, to fulfil her lightest wish; and at the bottom of her soul lay the dreadful certainty that he loved her! The barbarian was insolent enough to show it. The tyrant of Italy dared to hope that the daughter of Boëthius---- Oh, it was too much! and, sobbing violently, she buried her head in the cushions of her couch, to which she had retired, until deep sleep of exhaustion overcame her. Not long after, Cethegus, who had been hastily sent for, came to visit the troubled woman. Rusticiana would fain have followed her own and Camilla's first impulse, to fly from the villa and the hated vicinity of the King, and hide her child on the other side of the Alps. But Camilla's condition had, till then, prevented their departure, and as soon as the Prefect entered the house, the flame of their excitement seemed to sink before his cold glances. He took Rusticiana alone with him into the garden. Leaning his back against a laurel-tree, and supporting his chin on his hand, he listened quietly and attentively to her passionate recital. "And now, speak," she concluded; "what shall I do? How shall I save my poor child? Whither shall I take her?" "Whither shall you take Camilla?" he repeated. "To the court, to Ravenna." Rusticiana started. "Why this ill-timed joke?" But Cethegus quickly stood erect. "I am in earnest. Be quiet and listen. Fate, that wills the destruction of the barbarians, could have laid no more gracious gifts upon our path. You know how completely I rule the Queen-regent, but you do not know how powerless I am over that obstinate enthusiast, Athalaric. It is enigmatical. The sick youth is, amongst all the nation, the only one who suspects, if he does not see through, me; and I do not know whether he most fears or hates me. That would be a matter of indifference to me if the audacious fellow did not very decidedly and very successfully act against me. Naturally, his opinion weighs heavily with his mother; often more than mine; and he will always grow older, riper, and more dangerous. His spirit exceeds his years; he takes a grave part in the councils of the Regency, and always speaks against me; he often prevails. 'Twas but lately that, against my will, he succeeded in giving the command of the Gothic troops in Rome, in _my_ Rome, to that bilious Teja. In short, the young King becomes highly dangerous. Until now I have not the shadow of authority over him. He loves Camilla to his peril; through her we will rule the unruly one." "Never!" cried Rusticiana; "never as long as I breathe! _I_ at the court of the tyrants! My child, Boëthius's daughter, the beloved of Athalaric! Her father's bloody ghost would----" "Would you avenge that ghost? Yes. Would you ruin the Goths? Yes. Therefore you must consent to everything which will lead to this end." "Never, by my oath!" "Woman, do not irritate me, do not oppose me! You know me. By your oath? Have you not sworn blind and unconditional obedience to me, calling down curses on yourself and your children should you break that oath? Caution is necessary when dealing with women! Obey, or tremble for your soul!" "Fearful man! Shall I sacrifice all my hatred to you and your projects?" "To me? who speaks of me? I plead _your_ cause, I complete _your_ revenge. The Goths have done nothing to _me_. _You_ disturbed me from my books, _you_ called upon me to aid you in destroying these Amelungs; do you repent? Very well. I will return to Horatius and the Stoics. Farewell!" "Remain, remain! But must Camilla be sacrificed?" "Folly! Athalaric will be the victim. She shall not love him, she shall only influence him--or," he added, looking sharply at her, "do you fear for her heart?" "May your tongue be paralysed! _My_ daughter love _him_! Rather would I strangle her with these hands!" But Cethegus had become thoughtful. "It is not for the girl's sake," he thought, "that would not matter--but should she really love him?--the Goth is handsome, intellectual, enthusiastic--Where is your daughter?" he asked aloud. "In the women's apartment. Even should I wish it, she will never consent--never!" "We will attempt it. I will go to her." And they went into the house. Rusticiana would have entered the room with Cethegus, but he repulsed her. "I must have her alone," he said, and passed through the curtain. On seeing him, the beautiful girl rose from the cushions on which she had been resting, lost in helpless reverie. Accustomed to find in this wise and commanding man, her father's old friend, a constant adviser, she greeted him trustfully, as a patient greets his physician. "You know, Cethegus?" "Everything!" "And you bring me help and comfort?" "I bring you revenge, Camilla!" That was a new and startling idea! Hitherto to fly, to save herself from this torturing position, had been her only thought. At the most, an angry rejection of the royal gift. But now, revenge! Compensation for all the pain she had suffered! Revenge upon the murderers of her father! Her heart was deeply wounded, and in her veins boiled the hot blood of the south. She rejoiced at the words of her tempter. "Revenge? Who will revenge me? You?" "You will revenge yourself; that will be sweeter." Her eyes flashed. "On whom?" "On him. On his house. On all your enemies." "How can I, a weak and timid girl?" "Listen to me, Camilla. To you only, to the noble daughter of the noble Boëthius, will I unfold what I would trust to no other woman on earth. There exists a powerful league of patriots, who have sworn to extirpate the barbarians from the face of this country. The sword of revenge hangs trembling over the heads of the tyrants. The fatherland and the shade of your father call upon you to cause it to fall." "Upon me? _I_--revenge my father? Speak!" cried the maiden, her face glowing as she stroked back the dark locks from her temples. "There must be a sacrifice. Rome demands it." "My blood, my life! Like Virginia will I die!" "No; you shall live to triumph in your revenge. The King loves you. You must go to Ravenna, to court. You shall destroy him by means of his love. We have no power over him, but you will gain the mastery over his soul." "Destroy him!" She seemed strangely moved as she spoke thus in a low voice. Her bosom heaved; her voice trembled with the force of her opposing feelings. Tears burst from her eyes, she buried her face in her hands. Cethegus rose from his seat. "Pardon me," he said, "I will go. I knew not--that you _loved_ the King." A scream of anger, like that of physical pain, escaped the maiden's lips; she sprang up and grasped his arm. "Man! who said so? I hate him! Hate him more than I ever knew I could hate!" "Then prove it, for I do not believe it." "I will prove it!" she cried; "he shall die!" She threw back her head; her eyes sparkled fiercely; her dark tresses fell over her shoulders. "She loves him," thought Cethegus; "but it matters not, for she does not know it. She is only conscious of hating him. All is well." "He shall not live," repeated Camilla. "You shall see," she added with a wild laugh--"you shall see how I love him! What must I do?" "Obey me in everything." "And what do you promise in return? What shall he suffer?" "Unrequited love." "Yes, yes, that he shall!" "His kingdom and his race shall be ruined," continued Cethegus. "And he will know that it is through _me_!" "I will take care that he shall know that. When shall we start for Ravenna?" "To-morrow! No; to-day, this instant." She stopped and grasped his hand. "Cethegus, tell me, am I beautiful?" "Yes, most beautiful!" "Ah!" she cried, tossing back her flowing hair, "Athalaric shall love me and perish! Away to Ravenna! I will and must see him!" And she rushed out of the room. Her whole soul was thirsting to be with the object of her love and hate. CHAPTER XIII. That same day the inhabitants of the villa entered upon their journey to Ravenna. Cethegus sent a courier forward with a letter from Rusticiana to the Queen-regent. Therein the widow of Boëthius declared, "that by the mediation of the Prefect of Rome, she was now ready to accept the repeated invitation to return to court. She did not accept it as an act of pardon, but of conciliation; as a sign that the heirs of Theodoric wished to make amends for the injustice done to the deceased." This proud letter was written from Rusticiana's very heart, and Cethegus knew that such a step would do no harm, and would only exclude any suspicious construction that might be laid upon the sudden change in her sentiments. Half-way the travellers were met by a messenger bearing the Queen's answer, which bade them welcome to her court. Arrived in Ravenna, they were received by the Queen with all honours, provided with a retinue, and led into the rooms which they had formerly occupied. They were warmly welcomed by all the Romans at court. But the anger of the Goths--who abhorred Symmachus and Boëthius as ungrateful traitors--was greatly excited by this measure, which seemed to imply an indirect condemnation of Theodoric. The last remaining friends of that great King indignantly left the Italianised court. Meanwhile, time, the diversions of the journey, and the arrival at Ravenna, had softened Camilla's excitement. Her anger had the more time to abate, as many weeks elapsed before she met Athalaric; for the young King was dangerously ill. It was said at court, that while on a visit to Aretium, whither he had gone to enjoy the mountain air, the baths, and the chase, he had drank from a rocky spring in the woods of Tifernum while heated with hunting, and had thereby brought on a violent attack of his former malady. The fact was, that his followers had found him lying senseless by the side of the spring where he had met Camilla. The effect of this story upon Camilla was strange. To the hate she bore to Athalaric was now added a slight feeling of compassion, and even a sort of self-reproach. But on the other side, she thanked Heaven that, by this illness, the meeting was postponed, which, now that she was in Ravenna, she feared no less than she had longed for it while far away in Tifernum. And as she wandered in the wide-spread grounds of the magnificent palace-gardens, she was repeatedly reminded of the anxious care with which Corbulo's little estate had been fashioned after this model. Days and weeks passed. Nothing was heard of the patient except that he was convalescent, but forbidden to leave his rooms. The physicians and courtiers who surrounded him often expressed to Camilla their admiration of his patience and strength of mind while suffering the most acute pains, his gratitude for the slightest service, and the noble mildness of his disposition. But when she caught herself listening with pleasure to these words of praise, she frowned angrily, and the thought arose within her: "And he did not oppose the murder of my father!" One hot July night, after long and restless wakefulness, Camilla towards daybreak had sunk into an uneasy slumber. Anxious dreams disturbed her. It seemed to her as if the ceiling of the room, with all its bas-reliefs, were sinking down upon her. Directly over her head was a beautiful young Hypnos, the gentle God of Sleep, modelled by the hand of a Greek. She dreamed that the drowsy god assumed the earnest, sorrowful features of his pale brother Thanatos. Softly and slowly the God of Death bent his countenance above her. He approached nearer and nearer. His features became more and more distinct. She already felt his breath upon her forehead. His beautiful lips almost touched her mouth. Then she recognised with affright the pale features--the dark eyes. It was Athalaric! With a scream she started up. The silver lamp had long since burnt out. The room was dim. A red light gleamed faintly through the window of spar-gypsum. She rose and opened it. The cocks were crowing, the first rays of the sun gently stole over the sea, of which, beyond the garden, she had a full view. She could no longer bear to remain in the close chamber. She threw a mantle over her shoulders and hurried softly out of the still silent palace, down the marble steps, and into the garden; across which the fresh morning wind from the neighbouring sea blew towards her. She hastened towards the sun and the sea, for, to the east, the high walls of the palace gardens rose directly out of the blue waves of the Adriatic. A gilded lattice-gate, and, beyond it, ten broad steps of white Hymettus marble, led to the little garden-harbour, in which rocked the light-oared gondolas with their lateen sails of purple linen-cloth, fastened with silver chains to the ornamental rams'-heads fixed right and left upon the marble quay. At the side of the lattice-gate towards the garden, the grounds ended in a spacious rotunda, which was surrounded with broad and shady pines. The ground was laid out with carefully-tended grassplots, intersected by neat paths, and diversified by gay beds of sweet-scented flowers. A spring, ornamentally enclosed, ran down the declivity into the sea. In the centre of this place was a small and antique Temple of Venus, overtopped by a single palm-tree, while burning-red saxifrage grew in the now empty niches of its outer walls. At the right of its long-closed door stood a bronze statue of Æneas. The Julius Cæsar to the left had fallen centuries ago. Theodoric had placed upon its pedestal a bronze statue of Amala, the mythic forefather of his house. Between these statues, from the steps of the little fane, was a splendid view through the lattice-gate over the sea, with its woody lagoon-islands, and a group of jagged rocks, called "the Needles of the Amphitrites." This had been a favourite resort of Camilla's childhood. And it was hither that she now bent her steps, lightly brushing the plentiful dew from the high grass as, with slightly-lifted garments, she hastened along the narrow pathway. She wished to behold the sun rise glowing from the sea. She advanced from behind the temple, passed to the estrade on the left, and had just set her foot upon the first step which led from the front of the temple to the lattice-gate, when she caught sight of a white figure reclining on the second step, with the head leaning against the balustrade and the face turned towards the sea. She recognised the black and silky hair; it was the young King. The meeting was so unexpected that there was no possibility of avoiding it. As if rooted to the ground, she stood still upon the first step. Athalaric sprang up and quickly turned. His pallid face was illumined by a vivid flush. But he was the first to recover himself, and said: "Forgive, Camilla. I could not expect you to come here at this hour. I will go; and leave you alone with the rising sun." And he flung his white mantle over his shoulder. "Remain, King of the Goths. I have no right to scare you away--and no intention," she added. Athalaric came a step nearer. "I thank you. And I beg one favour," he added, smiling. "Do not betray me to my physicians nor to my mother. All day long they shut me up so carefully, that I am obliged to escape before sunrise. For the fresh air, the sea-breeze, does me good; I feel that it cools me. You will not betray me?" He spoke so quietly. He looked so unembarrassed. This freedom from embarrassment confused Camilla. She would have felt more courageous if he had been more moved. She observed his coolness with pain, but not because she really cared for the Prefect's plans. So, in answer, she only shook her head in silence, and cast down her eyes. At that moment the rays of the sun reached the spot on which the pair were standing. The old temple and the bronze of the statues shone in the rosy light; and from the east a broad path of trembling gold was laid upon the smooth flood. "See, how beautiful!" cried Athalaric, carried away by his admiration. "Look at that bridge of light and glory!" She joined in his admiration, and looked out over the sea. "Do you remember, Camilla," he continued slowly, as if lost in recollection, and not looking at her, "do you remember how we played here when we were children? How we dreamed? We said that the golden path painted on the waters by the sun, led to the Islands of the Blessed." "To the Islands of the Blessed!" repeated Camilla. In secret she was wondering at the delicacy and ease with which, avoiding every allusion to their last meeting, he conversed with her in a manner, which completely disarmed her. "And look, how the statues glitter, that wonderful pair, Æneas and--Amala! Listen, Camilla, I have something to beg pardon for." Her heart beat rapidly. He was going to speak of the rebuilding of the Villa and the fountain. The blood rose to her cheeks. She remained silent in painful expectation. But the youth continued quietly: "You know how often--you the Roman, and I the Goth--vied with each other here in praises of the glory and fame and manners of our people. Then you stood under the statue of Æneas, and told me of Brutus and Camillus, of Marcellus and the Scipios. And I, leaning against the shield of my ancestor Amala, praised Ermanaric and Alaric and Theodoric. But you spoke more eloquently than I. And often, when the glory of your heroes threatened to outshine mine, I laughed at your dead greatness, and cried, 'The living present and the glowing future belong to my people!'" "Well, and now?" "I speak so no more. You have won, Camilla!" But even while he spoke thus, he looked prouder than ever. And this expression of superiority revolted the Roman girl. Besides that, she was irritated by the unapproachable coolness with which the King, upon whose passion for her such plans were being founded, stood before her. She did not understand this tranquillity. She had hated him because he had dared to show her his love, and now her hate revived because he was able to conceal it. With the intention to hurt his feelings she slowly said: "So you acknowledge, King of the Goths, that your barbarians are inferior to the civilised nations?" "Yes, Camilla," he answered quietly; "but only in one thing: in good luck. In the favours of Fate as well as of Nature. Look at that group of fishermen, who are hanging up their nets on the olive-trees upon the strand. How beautiful are their forms! In motion and repose, in spite of their rags, they are complete statues! Look at that girl with the amphora on her head. And there, at that old woman, who, leaning her head on her arm, lies upon the sand and gazes out dreamily over the sea. Each beggar amongst them looks like a dethroned king. How beautiful they are! At one with themselves and happy! The glory of uninterrupted happiness lies upon them, as it does upon children, or upon noble animals! This is wanting to us barbarians!" "Is that alone wanting to you?" "No, Fate is not gracious to us--my poor, glorious people! We have been carried away into a strange world, in which we do not flourish. We resemble the flower of the high Alps, the Edelweiss, which has been carried by the stormy wind to the hot sands of the low-levels. We cannot take root here. We fade and die." And overcome with noble sadness, he turned away and looked over the blue waves. But Camilla was not in the humour to reflect upon these prophetic words spoken by a king of his people. "Why did you overstep the mountains which God set as an eternal boundary between your people and ours?" she asked. "Say, why?" "Do you know," answered Athalaric, without looking at her, almost as if thinking aloud, "do you know why the dark moth flies to the bright flame? Again and again! Warned by no pain, until it is devoured by the beautiful but dangerous element? From what motive? From a sweet madness! And it is just such a sweet madness that has enticed my fellow-Goths away from the fir and the oak to the laurel and the olive. They will burn their wings, the foolish heroes, and will not cease to do so. Who can blame them for it? Look around you! How deeply blue the sky! How deeply blue the sea! And in it are reflected the summits of the pines and the white glitter of the marble temples! And away in the distance arise blue mountains; and out in the waters swim green islands, where the vine clings to the elm. And, above all, the soft, warm and caressing air that illumines the whole with a magic light. What wonders of form and colour does the eye drink, and what sweetness do the delighted senses breathe! This is the magic charm which will for ever entice and undo us!" The deep emotion of the young King did not fail to make an impression upon Camilla. The tragic force of his words affected her; but she _would_ not be moved. She defended herself against the increasing softness of her feelings. She said coldly: "A whole nation enchanted by this magic, in spite of reason and judgment?" and she looked at him incredulously. But she was startled; for like lightning flashed the eyes of the youth, and his long-withheld passion broke out suddenly without restraint. "Yes, I tell thee, maiden! a whole people can nourish a foolish passion, a sweet destructive madness, a deadly longing, as well as--as well as a single man! Yes, Camilla, there is a power in the heart, which, stronger than reason and will, forcibly draws us with open eyes to destruction. But thou knowest it not, and mayst thou never experience it. Never! Farewell!" He quickly turned away and entered a bowery walk of climbing vines to the right of the temple, which immediately hid him from Camilla, as well as from the windows of the palace. The girl remained standing in deep reflection. His last words echoed strangely in her ears. For a long time she looked out dreamily over the open sea, and at last returned to the palace, filled with strangely conflicting feelings, and in an altered mood. CHAPTER XIV. On the same day Cethegus paid a visit to the two ladies. He had come over from Rome on important business, and had just left the privy-council which had been held in the invalid King's room. His energetic features were full of repressed anger. "To work, Camilla!" he cried. "You are too long about it. This impertinent boy becomes more and more unmanageable. He defies me and Cassiodorus, and even his mother. He is intimate with dangerous people. With old Hildebrand and Witichis and their friends. He sends and receives letters behind our backs. He has managed that the Queen may never hold a council of the regency except in his presence. And in the council he crosses all our plans. This must cease. In one way or another." "I have no more hope of influencing the King," said Camilla gravely. "Why? Have you already seen him?" The girl reflected. She had promised Athalaric not to allow his disobedience to come to the ears of his physicians; and besides, it went against her feelings to desecrate and betray their meeting. So she avoided the question and said: "If the King refuses to obey his mother, the Queen-regent, he is not likely to suffer himself to be controlled by a young girl." "What sweet simplicity!" laughed Cethegus. And he dropped the conversation as long as the girl remained in the room. But afterwards, in private, he forced from Rusticiana a promise to manage matters so that her daughter in future might frequently see and speak to the King. It was possible to do this, for Athalaric's health rapidly improved. He became daily more manly and more decided. It seemed as if his opposition to Cethegus strengthened him both bodily and mentally. In a very short time he again spent many hours of the day in the extensive pleasure-grounds. It was here that his mother and the family of Boëthius frequently met him in the evening. And while Rusticiana appeared to receive the gracious courtesies of the Queen with answering friendship, listening attentively to her confidential remarks, in order afterwards to report them, word for word, to the Prefect, the two young people walked before them through the shady paths of the garden. Often this select company entered one of the light gondolas in the little harbour, and Athalaric rowed them himself over the blue sea to one of the small wooded isles which lay not far away. On the return home, the purple sails were spread, and the fresh breeze, which always arose at sunset, carried them gently and idly back. Camilla and the King, accompanied by Daphnidion, frequently enjoyed this trip over the waves alone. Amalaswintha naturally saw the danger of increasing by such freedom the inclination of her son for Camilla, which had not escaped her notice; but, above all other considerations, she was thankful for the favourable influence which this companionship evidently exercised upon her son. In Camilla's presence he was quieter and more cheerful; and at the same time more gentle in his manner to herself, which had often been abrupt and violent. He also controlled his feelings with a mastery which was doubly surprising in such an irritable invalid. And, lastly, the Queen-regent, supposing that his inclination should indeed ripen to earnest love, would not be averse to an alliance which promised completely to win the Roman aristocracy, and erase all memory of a cruel deed. In Camilla a wonderful change was going forward. Day by day, as she more and more clearly saw the noble tenderness, the gifted soul, and the deep and poetical feelings of the young King develop, she felt her hate melt away. With difficulty she recalled to her memory the fate of her father, as an antidote to this sweet poison; she learnt better to distinguish justly which of the Goths and Amelungs had contributed to that fate, and, with growing certainty, she felt that it was unjust to hate Athalaric for a misfortune which he had merely not opposed, and indeed would hardly have been able to prevent. She would have liked, long ago, to speak to him openly, but she mistrusted her own weakness; she shunned it as a sin against father, fatherland, and her own freedom; she trembled as she felt how indispensable this noble youth had become to her, how much she thirsted to hear his melodious voice, and look into his dark and thoughtful eyes. She feared this sinful love--which she could now scarcely conceal from herself--and she would not part with the only weapon that remained to her: the reproach of his passive acquiescence in her father's death. So she fluctuated from feeling to feeling; all the more hesitatingly, the more mysterious Athalaric's strange reserve became. After all that had happened, she could not doubt that he loved her; and yet-- Not a syllable, not a look betrayed this love. The exclamation with which he had left her at the Temple of Venus was the most important, the only important speech that had escaped him. She could not suspect what the youth had suffered before his love had become not extinguished, but self-denying. And still less in what new feeling he had found manly strength enough for such renunciation. Her mother, who watched Athalaric with all the keenness of hate, and, in doing so, forgot to observe her own child, appeared even more astonished at his coldness. "But patience," she said to Cethegus, with whom she often consulted behind Camilla's back. "Patience! soon, in three days' time, you will see him alter." "It is high time," answered Cethegus. "But upon what grounds do you build?" "Upon a means which has never yet failed me." "You will not, surely, mix a love-philtre for him?" asked the Prefect, smiling. "Certainly I shall. I have done so already." He looked at her mockingly. "And are you, then, so superstitious, you, the widow of the great philosopher, Boëthius? Upon my word, in love affairs all women are mad alike!" "It is neither madness nor superstition," replied Rusticiana quietly. "Our family has possessed this secret charm for more than a hundred years. An Egyptian woman once gave it to one of my female ancestors on the Nile, and it has always proved its power. No woman of my family has ever loved without requital." "That required no magic," observed the Prefect. "You are a handsome race." "Spare your sarcasm. The love-philtre is unfailing, and if it has not yet taken effect----" "So you have really---- What imprudence! How could you, unobserved----" "Every evening, when he returns from a walk or a row with us, Athalaric takes a cup of spiced Falernian. The physicians ordered it. There are some drops of Arabian balsam in it. The cup always stands ready upon the marble table in front of the temple. Three times I have succeeded in pouring in my potion." "Well," observed Cethegus, "until now it has done no particular good." "That is only owing to my impatience. The herbs must be gathered during the new moon. I knew it well enough; but, hurried by your insistence, I tried it during the full moon, and, you see, it was not effectual." Cethegus shrugged his shoulders. "But yesterday," she went on, "it was new moon. I was not idle with my golden scissors, and when he drinks now----" "A second Locusta! Well, _my_ comfort is Camilla's beautiful eyes! Does she know of your arts?" "Not a word to her! She would never suffer it. Silence! She comes!" The girl entered in great excitement; her oval cheeks were red; a plait of her hair had got loose, and floated over her lovely neck. "Tell me," she cried, "you who are wise and experienced, tell me what to think! I come from the boat. Oh, he has never loved me, the haughty man! He pities, he is sorry for me! No, that is not the right word. I cannot explain it." And bursting into tears, she hid her face upon her mother's neck. "What has happened, Camilla?" asked Cethegus. "Very often before," she began, with a heavy sigh, "an expression played about his mouth, and filled his eyes, as if _he_ had been deeply offended by _me_, as if _he_ had to forgive, as if _he_ had made a great sacrifice for me----" "Raw boys always imagine it to be a sacrifice, when they are in love." At this Camilla's eyes flashed; she tossed her head, and turned quickly upon Cethegus. "Athalaric is no boy, and no one shall laugh at him!" Cethegus was silent, and quietly dropped his eyelids; but Rusticiana asked in surprise: "Do you hate the King no more?" "To the death! He shall be undone, but not mocked!" "What has happened?" repeated Cethegus. "To-day I again noticed that puzzling, proud, and cold expression upon his face more distinctly than ever. A little incident occurred which caused the King to speak more plainly. An insect--a beetle--had fallen into the water. The King stooped and took it out, but the little creature turned against the beneficent hand, and bit the fingers that held it. 'The ungrateful thing!' I exclaimed. 'Oh,' said Athalaric, with a bitter smile, 'we wound most those to whom we are most indebted!' and he glanced at me with a sad and proud expression. But, as if he had said too much, he briefly bid me farewell, and went away; but I----" and her bosom heaved, her finely-cut lips were compressed--"I can bear it no longer! The haughty one! He _shall_ love me--or die!" "That shall he," said Cethegus inaudibly; "one or the other." CHAPTER XV. A few days later the court was surprised by a new step towards independence on the part of the young King. He himself summoned a council, a prerogative which, until now, had only been assumed by Amalaswintha. The Queen-regent was not a little astonished when a messenger from her son bade her repair to his apartments, where the King had already assembled several of the highest officials of the realm, both Goths and Romans. Amongst these last were Cassiodorus and Cethegus. At first the latter had intended to absent himself, in order not by his presence to acknowledge the right which the youth had assumed; he suspected nothing good. But just for this reason he altered his mind. "I must not turn my back upon danger, I must face it," he said as he prepared for the distasteful assembly. He found all those who had been invited already collected in the King's chamber. The Queen alone was still absent. When she at last entered, Athalaric, who wore a long and wide purple robe, with the crown of Theodoric shining upon his brow, and his sword at his side, rose from his throne (behind which was a niche covered by a curtain), advanced to the Queen and led her to a second and higher throne, which, however, was placed on the left. So soon as she was seated he began: "My royal mother, brave Goths, noble Romans! We have assembled you here to make known to you our will. Dangers threatened this kingdom which only we, its King, could avert." Such a speech had never yet been heard from his lips. All were silent and confounded; Cethegus from prudence; he waited for the proper moment. At last Cassiodorus began: "Your wise mother and your faithful servant Cassiodorus----" "My faithful servant Cassiodorus will be silent until his lord and King asks his advice. We are discontented, highly discontented, with that which the advisers of our mother have, until now, done and left undone. It is high time that we ourselves should look to the right. Until now we were too young and too ailing. We feel so no more. We announce to you that we accordingly annul the regency, and take the reins of government into our own hands." He ceased. Every one remained silent. None wished, like Cassiodorus, to speak and be rebuked. At length Amalaswintha, who was quite stunned by the sudden energy displayed by her son, again found her tongue: "My son, the age of minority is, according to the laws of the Emperor----" "The Romans, mother, may abide by the Emperor's laws. We are Goths and live under Gothic law. German youths are of age when the assembled army has declared them capable of bearing arms. We have therefore determined to invite all the generals, counts, and freemen of our realm, as many as will obey our call, from all the provinces of the kingdom, to a review of the army at Ravenna. They will arrive at the next solstitial feast." All were mute with surprise. "That will be in fourteen days," said Cassiodorus at last. "Will it be possible to issue summonses in so short a time?" "They are issued. Hildebrand, my old master-at-arms, and Earl Witichis have thought of everything." "Who has signed the summonses!" asked Amalaswintha, taking courage. "I alone, dear mother. It was necessary to show those invited that I was old enough to act alone." "And without my knowledge!" cried the Queen-regent. "It was done without your knowledge, because otherwise it must have been done against your will." He ceased. All the Romans were confounded by the suddenly developed energy of the young King. Only Cethegus was at once resolved to prevent the review at any price. He saw the foundations of all his plans tottering. Gladly would he have come to the help of the regency, which was thus sinking before his very eyes, with all the weight of his oratory; he would have long since gladly crushed the bold efforts of the youth with his calm superiority, but a strange circumstance held his thoughts and tongue enchained as if in magic bonds. He fancied he heard a noise behind the curtain, and fixed a keen look upon it. He soon remarked beneath it, for the fringes did not quite reach the ground, the feet of a man. But only as far up as the ankles. Upon these ankles, however, were steel greaves of peculiar construction. He knew these greaves; he knew that they belonged to a full suit of armour of the same make; he knew also, by an instinctive connection of ideas, that the wearer of this armour was hateful and dangerous to him. But still it was impossible for him to say who this enemy was. If he could only have seen the greaves as far up as the knee! His eyes wandered again and again to the same spot. Against his will his mind was occupied in guessing. And this circumstance kept his attention fixed, at a moment when everything was at stake. He was angry with himself, but he could not tear his thoughts and looks away from the niche. Meanwhile the King continued without contradiction: "Further, we have recalled the noble Dukes Thulun, Ibba and Pitza, who have left our court in ill-will, from Gaul and Spain. We find that too many Romans and too few Goths surround us. These three brave warriors, together with Earl Witichis, will examine the defences of our kingdom, the fortresses and ships, and will discover and remedy all deficiencies. We expect them to arrive shortly." "They must at once leave the place again," said Cethegus to himself; but his thoughts repeated, "not without reason is that man concealed behind the curtain." "Further," resumed Athalaric, "we have ordered Mataswintha, our beautiful sister, to return to court. She was banished to Tarento because she refused to become the wife of an aged Roman. She shall return, the loveliest flower of our realm and an ornament to our court." "Impossible!" cried Amalaswintha; "you attack the rights, not only of the Queen, but of the mother." "I am the head of the family as soon as I am of age." "My son, you know how feeble you were only a few weeks ago. Do you really believe that the Gothic warriors will declare you capable of bearing arms?" The King became as scarlet as his royal purple, partly from shame, partly from anger. Before he could find an answer, a rough voice at his side exclaimed: "Be not troubled about that, your Majesty! I have been his master," continued the speaker, turning to the assembly: "I tell you that he can measure his strength against any foe; and whom old Hildebrand declares capable of bearing arms is considered so by all the Goths." Loud applause from all the Goths present confirmed this assertion. Again Cethegus would have put in his word, but a movement behind the curtain drew his attention away. "It is one of my greatest enemies, but who?" he thought. "There is yet an important matter to make known to you," again began the King with a hasty glance at the niche, which did not escape Cethegus. "Perhaps an accusation against me," thought the latter; "they want to take me by surprise? They shall not succeed!" But it surprised him, after all, when the King suddenly called in a loud voice: "Prefect of Rome! Cethegus Cæsarius!" Cethegus started; but, quickly recovering himself, bent his head and answered: "My Lord and King!" "Have you nothing to announce from Rome? What is the feeling of the Quirites? What do people think of the Goths?" "They are honoured as the people of Theodoric." "Are they feared?" "There is no cause to fear them." "Are they loved?" Gladly would the Prefect have replied, "There is no cause to love them;" but the King himself continued: "So there is no trace of discontent? No cause for uneasiness? Nothing particular in preparation?" "I have nothing to communicate." "Then you are badly informed, Prefect of Rome, or badly disposed! What? must I--who have scarcely risen from my sick-bed here at Ravenna--tell you what happens in Rome under your very eyes? The workmen on your bulwarks sing satirical songs against the Goths, against the Queen, against me. Your legions use threatening words while practising the use of their arms. Most probably there exists already a widespread conspiracy, with senators and priests at its head. They assemble by night in secret places. An accomplice of Boëthius, a banished man, Albinus, has been seen in Rome, and do you know where? In the garden of your house." All eyes--either in astonishment, rage, or fear--were fixed upon Cethegus. Amalaswintha trembled for the object of her trust. But he was now quite himself again. Quiet, cool, and silent, he looked full at the King. "Justify yourself!" exclaimed the King. "Justify myself? Against a shadow, a report? Against an accusation without accusers? Never!" "We shall know how to force you." The Prefect's thin lips curled with contempt. "I may be murdered upon mere suspicion, without doubt--we Italians have experienced such a thing--but not condemned. There can be no justification opposed to force." "Justice shall be done, doubt it not. We charge all Romans present with the examination, and leave the sentence to the Roman Senate. Choose a defender." "I defend myself," said Cethegus coolly. "What is the accusation? Who is my accuser? Where is he?" "Here!" cried the King, and threw back the curtain. A Gothic warrior, in a full suit of black armour, stepped forth. We already know him. It was Teja. The Prefect turned away his eyes in deadly hatred. Teja spoke. "I, Teja, son of Tagila, accuse thee, Cethegus Cæsarius, of treason against the Goths. I accuse thee of having hidden the banished traitor, Albinus, in thy house in Rome. Death is the penalty. And, besides this, thou art plotting to subject this country to the Emperor of Byzantium." "That least of all," said Cethegus coolly, "Prove your accusation." "I saw Albinus, with my own eyes, entering thy garden fourteen days ago," continued Teja, turning to the assembly. "He came from the Via Sacra, enveloped in a mantle, a wide-brimmed hat upon his head. I had seen him on two former occasions; this time I recognised him. As I went towards him, he disappeared through a door, which closed behind him." "Since when does my colleague, the brave Commandant of Rome, play the nightly spy?" "Since he had a Cethegus at his side," retorted Teja. "But as the fugitive escaped, this roll fell from his mantle. It contains the names of distinguished Romans, and opposite to each name notices in an unknown cipher. Here is the roll." He gave it to the King, who read: "The names are Silverius, Cethegus, Licinius, Scævola, Calpurnius, Pomponius. Canst thou swear, Teja, that the disguised man was Albinus?" "I will swear it." "Prefect of Rome, Earl Teja is a free, unblemished, honourable man. Can you deny it?" "I deny it. He is not unblemished. His parents lived in an illegal, incestuous marriage; they were sister's children. The Church has cursed their connection and its fruit. He is a bastard, and can not bear witness against a noble Roman of senatorial rank." A murmur of anger burst from all the Goths present. Teja's pale face became still paler. He grasped his sword. "Then I will defend my word with my sword," he said, in a voice stifled by rage. "I challenge thee to mortal combat! God shall judge between us!" "I am a Roman, and do not act according to your barbaric customs. But even if I were a Goth, I would refuse to fight a bastard!" "Patience," said Teja, and quietly returned his sword to its sheath. "Patience, my sword; thy day will come!" The Romans in the room breathed again. The King resumed: "However that may be, the accusation is sufficiently well founded to justify the arrest of the said Roman. You, Cassiodorus, will decipher the secret writing. You, Earl Witichis, will hasten to Rome and make sure of the five suspected men; search their houses, and that of the Prefect. Hildebrand, arrest the accused, and take his sword." "Hold!" said Cethegus. "I will guarantee not to leave Ravenna until this question be settled, with the forfeiture of all my property. I demand an examination upon a free footing; such is the right of a senator." "Trouble not thyself about that, my son," cried old Hildebrand to the King. "Let me arrest him!" "Let him alone," answered the King. "He shall have strict justice. Leave him. The accusation has taken him by surprise. He shall have time to prepare his defence. To-morrow at this hour we will meet here again. I dissolve the assembly." He made a sign with his sceptre. Amalaswintha hurried away in the greatest excitement. The Goths surrounded Teja, greatly pleased; but the Romans passed quickly by Cethegus, avoiding any speech with him. Cassiodorus alone stepped firmly up to him, laid his hand upon his shoulder, looking searchingly into his eyes, and then asked: "Cethegus, can I help you?" "No; I will help myself," answered Cethegus, shaking him off, and went out alone with a proud step. CHAPTER XVI. The heavy blow which the young King had so unexpectedly aimed at the whole system of the Regency soon filled the palace and the city with astonishment, fright, or joy. Cassiodorus took the first decided news to the family of Boëthius, at the same time sending Rusticiana to comfort the agitated Queen. Overwhelmed with questions, he circumstantially related the whole proceeding; and disturbed and indignant though he was, his admiration of the decision and courage of the young King shone unmistakably through his unfriendly report. Camilla listened with eagerness to every word; pride in the beloved--love's happiest feeling--filled her whole soul. "There is no doubt," concluded Cassiodorus, sighing, "that Athalaric is our most decided adversary. He sticks to the Gothic party--to Hildebrand and his friends. He will undo the Prefect. Who would have believed it? I cannot help remembering, Rusticiana, how differently he conducted himself with regard to the process against your husband." Camilla listened attentively. "At that time we were convinced that he would be the most ardent friend, the most zealous advocate of the Romans." "I know nothing of it," said Rusticiana. "It was hushed up. The sentence of death had been pronounced upon Boëthius and his sons. In vain had we all, Amalaswintha foremost, appealed to the clemency of the King: his ire was unappeasable. As I again and again besieged him with petitions, he started up in anger and swore by his crown, that he who again dared to petition for the traitors, should repent it in the deepest dungeon of the palace. At that we were all dumb, except one. Athalaric, the boy, would not be repulsed; he wept and prayed, and clung to his grandfather's knees." Camilla trembled and held her breath. "And he did not desist," Cassiodorus went on, "until Theodoric, starting up in a rage, pushed him violently away, and delivered him to the guards. The King kept his oath. Athalaric was led into the castle dungeon, and Boëthius was at once executed." Camilla tottered, felt herself sinking, and caught at a slender pillar near which she was standing. "But Athalaric had not spoken and suffered in vain," continued Cassiodorus. "The next evening, while at table, the King sorely missed his darling. He remembered with what noble courage the youth had begged for his friend's life, when all men were dumb with fear. At last he rose from his repast, at which he had sat reflecting for some time, and descended in person to the prison, opened the doors, embraced his grandson, and granted his petition to spare the lives of your sons, Rusticiana." "Away! away to him!" exclaimed Camilla, and hurried, unnoticed, out of the hall. "At that time," concluded Cassiodorus, "Romans and their friends believed that in the young King they had found their best support; and now--my unfortunate mistress, unhappy mother!" and with this lament upon his lips, he departed. Rusticiana sat for some time as if stunned. She saw the foundations, upon which she had built her plans of revenge, totter; she sank into a moody reverie. Longer and longer stretched the shadows of the towers across the court of the palace, into which she was gazing. All at once she was roused by the firm footsteps of a man; Cethegus stood before her. His countenance was cold and dark, but icily calm. "Cethegus!" cried the distressed woman, hurrying towards him; and would have taken his hand, but his coldness repulsed her. "All is lost!" she sighed, stopping short. "Nothing is lost. Calmness is all that is wanting--and promptness," he added, looking round the room. When he saw that he was alone with her, he put his hand into the folds of his toga. "Your love-philtre has done no good, Rusticiana. Here is another; more potent. Take it," and he thrust into her hand a small phial made of dark-coloured lava-stone. She looked into his face with anxious suspicion. "Do you all at once believe in magic and charms? Who has mixed it?" "I," he answered, "and _my_ potions work." "You!" a cold shudder ran through her frame. "Ask no questions, do not delay," he commanded. "It must be done this day! Do you hear? This very day!" But Rusticiana still hesitated, and looked doubtfully at the bottle in her hand. Then Cethegus went close to her and lightly touched her shoulder. "You hesitate?" he said slowly. "Do you know what is at stake? Not only our whole plan! No, blind mother. Still more. Camilla _loves_, loves the King; with all the power of her young soul. Shall the daughter of Boëthius become the paramour of the tyrant?" With a loud cry Rusticiana started back. That which, during the last few days, had crossed her mind with a terrible suspicion, now became a certainty; she cast one glance at the man who had spoken the cruel word, and hurried away, angrily grasping the phial. Cethegus looked quietly after her. "Now, young Prince, we shall see! You were quick, I am quicker. It is strange," he added, "I have long thought that I was incapable of such violent emotion. Life has again a charm. I can again strive, hope, and fear. Even hate. Yes, I hate this boy, who dares to meddle in my affairs with his childish hand. He would defy me--hinder my progress--he boldly crosses my path--he! Well, let him bear the consequences!" And he slowly left the chamber, and turned towards the audience-room of the Queen, where he intentionally showed himself to the assembled crowd, and, by his calmness, gave some degree of confidence to the troubled hearts of the Roman courtiers. At sunset he went with Cassiodorus and a few other Romans--consulting about his defence for the next day--into the gardens, where he looked about in vain for Camilla. She, as soon as she had heard the end of Cassiodorus' report, had hurried to the court of the palace, where she hoped to find the King at the exercise of arms with the other young Goths. She only wished to see him, not yet to speak to him and beg pardon at his feet for the great wrong she had done him. She had abhorred him, repulsed him, hated him as spotted with the blood of her father--him, who had suffered for her father's sake, who had saved her brothers' lives! But she did not find the King in the court. The important events of the day kept him confined to his study. His comrades also did not fence to-day. Standing in thick groups, they loudly praised the courage of their young King. Camilla heard this praise with delight. Blushing with pride, she wandered in happy dreams about the garden, seeking the traces of her lover in all her favourite haunts. Yes, she loved him! Joyfully and proudly she confessed it to herself; he had a thousand times deserved it. What matter that he was a Goth, a barbarian! He was a noble, generous youth, the King of her soul! She repeatedly told the slave who accompanied her to keep at a distance, so that she might not hear how she again and again murmured the beloved name. At last she arrived at the Temple of Venus, and sank into sweet dreams of the future, which lay indistinct, but golden-hued, before her. She first of all resolved to declare to her mother and the Prefect that they must no more reckon upon her assistance in any plot against the King. Then she would ask pardon for her fault with moving words, and then--then? She did not know what would happen then; but she blushed in the midst of her sweet reverie. Red and perfumed almond-blossoms fell from the bending trees; in the thick oleander near her sang a nightingale; the clear stream glided purling past her to the blue sea, and the waves of this sea rolled softly to her feet, as if doing homage to her love. CHAPTER XVII. The sound of approaching footsteps upon the sandy path startled her from her reverie. The step was so rapid and firm, that she did not expect Athalaric. But he it was, changed in appearance and carriage; more manly, stronger, more decided. "Welcome, welcome, Camilla!" he cried, in a loud and lively voice. "To see you here is the best reward for this troublous day." He had never spoken to her so before. "My King!" she whispered, blushing. She cast a beaming look upon him from her dark eyes, then the long and silky lashes fell. "My King!" She had never before called him so, never given him such a look. "Your King!" he said, seating himself beside her. "I fear you will call me so no longer, when you learn what has happened to-day." "I know all." "You know! Well then, Camilla, be just. Do not scold, I am no tyrant----" "The noble youth!" she thought. "He excuses himself for his most manly act." "Heaven knows that I do not hate the Romans. Are they not your people? I honour them and their ancient greatness; I respect their rights; but I must firmly protect my kingdom, Theodoric's creation, and woe to the hand that threatens it! Perhaps," he continued, more slowly and solemnly, "perhaps its doom is already written in the stars. 'Tis all the same. I, its King, must with it stand or fall." "You say truly, Athalaric, and speak like a King!" "Thanks, Camilla; how just and good you are today! To such goodness I may well confide what blessing, what healing has come to me. I was a sick and erring dreamer, without support, without joy, gladly sinking to the grave. Then there suddenly came over me a feeling of the danger which threatened this nation, an active anxiety for the welfare of my people, and out of this anxiety grew a warm and mighty love for my Goths; and this ardent and watchful love has strengthened and comforted my heart for .... a bitterly painful renunciation. What matters _my_ happiness, if only my people flourish! See, this thought has made me whole and strong, and truly, I could now venture upon the most daring deed!" He sprang up and extended both his arms, exclaiming: "Oh, Camilla! this inaction destroys me! Oh that I were mounted and meeting a full-armed foe! Look," he added, more calmly, "the sun is setting. The mirror-like flood invites us. Come, Camilla, come with me in the boat." Camilla hesitated. She looked around. "The slave?" asked Athalaric. "Ah, let her alone. There she reposes under the palm by the spring. She sleeps. Come, come quickly, ere the sun sets. Look at the golden ripple on the water--it beckons us!" "To the Isles of the Blessed?" asked the lovely girl, with a shy look and a slight blush. "Yes, come to the Blessed Isles!" he answered, delighted, lifted her quickly into the boat, loosed the silver chain from the ram's head upon the quay, sprang in, took the ornamental oar, and pushed off. Then he laid the oar into the notch at his left hand, and, standing in the stern of the boat, steered and rowed at the same time--a graceful and picturesque movement, and a right Germanic ferryman's custom. Camilla sat upon a _diphros_, or Grecian folding-stool, in the bow of the boat, and looked into Athalaric's noble face. His dark hair was ruffled by the breeze, and it was pleasant to watch the lithe and graceful motions of his agile form. Both were silent. Like an arrow the light bark shot through the smooth water. Flecked and rosy cloudlets passed slowly across the sky, the faint breeze was laden with clouds of perfume from the blossoming almond-trees upon the shore, and all around was peace and harmony. At last the King broke the silence, while giving the boat a strong impulse, so that it obediently shot forwards. "Do you know of what I am thinking? How splendid it would be to steer a nation--thousands of well-loved lives--securely forward through waves and wind, to happiness and glory! But what were you thinking about, Camilla? You looked so kind, you must have had pleasant thoughts." She blushed and looked aside into the water. "Oh, speak! Be frank in this happy hour." "I was thinking," she said, her pretty head still averted, "how delightful it must be to be steered through the heaving flood of life by a faithful and beloved hand, to whose guidance one could implicitly trust." "Oh, Camilla, even a barbarian may be trusted--" "You are no barbarian! Whoever feels so tenderly, thinks so nobly, so generously controls himself, and rewards great ingratitude with kindness, is no barbarian! He is as noble a man as ever Scipio was." The King ceased to row in his delight; the boat remained motionless. "Camilla, am I dreaming? Did _you_ say that? and to me V 9 "More still, Athalaric! I beseech you to forgive that I have repulsed you so cruelly. Ah! it was from shame and fear." "Camilla, pearl of my soul----" Camilla, who had her face turned towards the shore, suddenly cried out: "What is that? They follow us. The court! the women! my mother!" It was so. Rusticiana, aroused by the Prefect's terrible warning, had sought for her daughter in the garden. She could not find her. She hurried to the Temple of Venus. In vain. Looking around, she suddenly caught sight of the two--her child, alone with Athalaric--in the boat, far out upon the sea. Greatly angered, she rushed to the marble table, where the slaves were just preparing the King's evening draught, sent them down the steps to unloose the gondola, won in this way an unobserved moment near the table, and directly afterwards descended the steps with Daphnidion--whom her angry cry had awakened--to the boat. At this moment the Prefect and his friends, whose walk had also led them to this place, approached from a thick taxus-path. Cethegus followed Rusticiana down the steps and gave her his hand to help her into the gondola. "It is done!" she whispered to him, and the boat pushed off. It was just then that the young pair became aware of the movement upon the beach. Camilla stood up; perhaps she suspected that the King would turn the boat, but he cried: "No; they shall not rob me of this hour, the happiest of my life! I must sip still more of these sweet words. Oh, Camilla, you must tell me more; you must tell me all! Come, we will land upon that island, they may reach us there." And rowing rapidly, he pressed with all his might upon the oar, so that the boat flew forward as if winged. "Will you not speak again?" "Oh! my friend, my King--do not press me." He only looked into her lovely face, into her beaming eyes; he paid no more attention to his goal. "Well, wait--there upon the island; there you shall----" A renewed and passionate effort, when all at once a dull crash was heard; the boat had struck, and drove, shaking violently, backwards. "Oh, Heaven!" cried Camilla, springing up and looking towards the bow of the boat. A whole volume of water came foaming towards her. "The boat has burst! we sink!" she cried, turning pale. "Come here to me; let me see!" cried Athalaric, starting up. "Ah! it is the 'Needles of the Amphitrites!' We are lost!" The "Needles of the Amphitrites"--we know that they could scarcely be seen from the terrace of the temple--were two narrow, sharp-pointed rocks, lying between the shore and the nearest lagoon island. They scarcely rose above the level of the water; with the slightest wind, the waves washed quite over them. Athalaric knew the danger of the place, and had always easily avoided it; but this time he had only looked into Camilla's eyes. At one glance he saw their fearful position. They could not be saved. A plank in the bottom of the slightly-made boat had sprung; the water rushed rapidly through the leak. The boat sank deeper and deeper every moment. He could not hope, with Camilla, to gain the nearest island or the shore by swimming. On the narrow point of the rock scarcely the feet of a sea-eagle could have found a moment's resting-place, and Rusticiana's gondola had only just pushed off from the land. All this he had seen with lightning-like rapidity, and he cast a horrified look at Camilla. "Beloved, thou must die!" he cried despairingly. "And through me!" He embraced her passionately. "Die?" she cried. "Oh no! not so young--not now! Let me live--live with thee!" And she clung closely to his arm. The tone, the words, cut him to the heart. He tore himself loose; he looked about for rescue. In vain; in vain. The water rose higher and higher; the boat sank more and more rapidly. He threw the oar away. "It is over--all is over, beloved! Let us take leave!" "No; we part no more! If we must die--oh! then, away with all the restraints which bind the living!" And, glowing all over, she nestled to his breast. "Oh! let me tell thee, let me confess to thee how much I love thee; how long ago--since--since first I knew thee! All my hate was only bashful love. Oh, God! I loved thee already when I thought I ought to abhor thee! Yes, thou shalt know how I love thee!" And she covered his eyes and mouth with hasty kisses. "Oh! now I will gladly die. Rather die with thee than live without thee! But no"--and she suddenly pushed him away--"thou shalt not die! Leave me here; go! swim--you can easily reach the island alone. Try; and leave me." "No," he cried, in an ecstasy of joy; "rather die with thee than live without thee! After such painful doubt, at length joyous certainty! From this hour we belong to each other for ever. Come, Camilla, beloved, let us die together!" A shudder of horror and delight, of love and death, shook their frames. He drew her to him, embraced her with his left arm, and lifted her upon the steer-board of the boat, which scarcely rose a hand's-breadth above the water. Already he prepared for the fatal leap--when suddenly they both uttered a joyful cry. Round a precipitous promontory which stretched far out into the sea, at a short distance, they saw a ship coming at full speed. The crew had heard their cry, and, at all events, saw their danger; perhaps had even recognised the person of the King. Forty oars, plunged into the water at the same moment by the rowers on the double deck, gave impetus to the course of the swift vessel, which rustled before the wind with swelling sails. Those who crowded the deck shouted to them to stand firm; and presently--it was high time--the prow of the bireme lay close over the little boat, which sank immediately after the endangered pair had been taken on board the ship through the opening of the lower deck. It was a small Gothic guardship. The golden rampant lion, the arms of the Amelungs, shone upon the blue flag. Aligern, a cousin of Teja, commanded it. "Thanks, brave friends!" said Athalaric, as soon as he could find words. "Thanks! you have not only saved your King, but also your Queen!" Much astonished, soldiers and sailors surrounded the happy man, who held the weeping Camilla in his arms. "Hail to our young and beautiful Queen!" cried the red-haired Aligern; and the crew shouted enthusiastically, "Hail! hail to our Queen!" At this moment the sailing-vessel rustled past Rusticiana's gondola. The sound of this joyous shout aroused the unhappy woman from the stupor of horror into which she had fallen when her two startled oarsmen had discovered the danger of the young couple in the sinking boat, and had at once declared that it was impossible to save them. On hearing this, she had sunk senseless into Daphnidion's arms. Now she came to herself, and cast a confused glance around her. She was amazed. Was it a dream that she saw, or was it really her daughter who stood on the deck of the Gothic ship, which proudly rustled past, lying on the young King's breast? And did really joyous voices cry, "Hail, Camilla, our Queen?" She stared at the passing vision, speechless and confounded. But the swiftly-flying ship had already passed her boat and drew near the land. It anchored outside the shallow garden-bay; a boat was lowered, the rescued couple, Aligern, and three sailors sprang into it, and soon they climbed the steps of the quay, where, besides Cethegus and his companions, a crowd of people had collected, who, from the palace or the gardens, had with horror become aware of the danger of the little boat, and now hurried to greet the rescued King. Accompanied by felicitations and blessings, Athalaric mounted the steps. "Behold!" he said, on arriving at the temple, "behold, Goths and Romans! behold your Queen, my bride! The God of Death has united us. Is it not so, Camilla?" She looked up at him, but was terribly startled. The excitement and the sudden change from horror to joy had fearfully shaken the scarcely-recovered King. His countenance was pale as marble; he tottered and convulsively pressed his hand to his breast, as though suffocating. "For God's sake!" cried Camilla, fearing an attack of his old malady. "The King is unwell! Quick with the wine, the medicine!" She flew to the table, caught up the silver cup which stood ready, and pressed it into the King's hand. Cethegus stood close by, and followed Athalaric's every movement with eagerness. The latter had already lifted the cup to his lips, but suddenly removed it, and said, smiling, to Camilla: "Thou must drink to me, as becomes a Gothic Queen at her court." And he gave her the goblet. She took it out of his hand. For a moment the Prefect felt as if on fire. He was upon the point of darting forward to dash the cup from her hand. But he controlled himself. If he did so, he was irrevocably lost. Not only tomorrow, as guilty of high treason, but at once arrested and accused of poisoning. And with him would be lost the future of Rome and all his ideal world. And for whom? For a love-sick girl, who had faithlessly revolted to his deadly enemy. "No," he said coldly to himself, clenching his fist; "she or Rome--therefore she!" And he quietly looked on while the girl, sweetly blushing, sipped somewhat of the wine, which the King then drank to the last dregs. Athalaric shuddered as he replaced the cup upon the marble table. "Come up to the palace," he said, shivering, and threw his mantle across his shoulders; "I feel cold." And he turned away. In doing so he caught sight of Cethegus, stood still for a moment, and looked penetratingly into the Prefect's eyes. "You here?" he said gloomily, and advanced a step towards him. All at once he shuddered again, and, with a sudden cry, fell prone near the spring. "Athalaric!" cried Camilla, and threw herself upon him. The old servant Corbulo sprang to her from the group of domestics. "Help!" he cried; "she is dying--the King!" "Water, quick! water!" called Cethegus, and he resolutely went to the table, took the silver cup, stooped, rinsed it quickly but thoroughly in the spring, and then bent over the King, who lay in Cassiodorus' arms, while Corbulo laid Camilla's head upon his knee. Helpless and horrified, the courtiers surrounded the two apparently lifeless forms. "What has happened? My child!" With this cry Rusticiana, who had just landed, rushed to her daughter's side. "Camilla!" she screamed desperately, "what ails you?" "Nothing," said Cethegus quietly, examining the two bodies. "It is only a fainting-fit. But his heart-disease has carried off the young King! He is dead!" BOOK II. AMALASWINTHA. "Amalaswintha did not despair like a woman, but vigorously defended her royalty."--_Procopius: Wars of the Goths_, i. 2. CHAPTER I. Athalaric's sudden death fell like lightning from a clear sky upon the Gothic party, whose hopes, just at this very time, had been raised to such a high pitch. All the measures which the King had taken at their suggestion were paralysed, and the national party was left without a representative in the State; at the head of which the Queen-regent was now placed alone. Early in the morning of the next day Cassiodorus went to the Prefect of Rome. He found him in a sound and tranquil sleep. "And you can sleep as quietly as a child after such a blow?" "I sleep," answered Cethegus, raising himself on his elbow, "in the feeling of renewed security." "Security! yes, for you; but the kingdom!" "The kingdom was in more danger through this boy than I. Where is the Queen?" "She sits speechless beside the open coffin of her son! She has sat there the whole night." Cethegus sprang up. "That must not be! It does no good. She belongs to the State, not to this corpse. So much the less because I have heard whispers concerning poison. The young tyrant had many enemies. How about that matter?" "Very uncertain. The Grecian physician, Elpidios, who examined the corpse, certainly speaks of some striking appearances. But he thinks that if poison has been used it must be a very secret one, quite unknown to him. In the cup from which the unfortunate boy drank there could not be discovered the least trace of suspicious contents. So it is generally believed that excitement had again brought on his former malady, and that this was the cause of his death. But still it is well that, since the moment of your leaving the assembly, _you_ were always in the presence of witnesses; grief breeds suspicion." "How is it with Camilla?" the Prefect inquired further. "She has never yet awakened from her stupor; the physicians fear the worst. But I came to ask you what shall now be done? The Queen speaks of suppressing the examination concerning you." "That must not be," cried Cethegus. "I demand an investigation. We will go to her immediately." "Will you intrude upon her at the coffin of her son?" "Yes, I will. Do you shrink from it in your tender consideration? Well then, come afterwards, when I have broken the ice." He dismissed his visitor and called his slaves to dress him. Shortly afterwards, enveloped in a dark mourning garment, he descended to the vault where the corpse lay exposed. With an imperious gesture he motioned aside the guard and the women of Amalaswintha, who kept watch at the door, and entered noiselessly. It was the low vaulted hall, where, in former times, the corpses of the emperors had been prepared with salves and combustibles for the funeral pyre. This quiet hall, flagged with dark-green serpentine, the roof of which was supported by short Doric columns of black marble, was never illumined by a ray of sunshine, and at the present moment no other light fell upon the gloomy Byzantine mosaics on the gold ground of the walls than that from four torches, which flickered with an uncertain light near the stone sarcophagus of the young King. There he lay upon a dark purple mantle; helm, sword, and shield at his head. Old Hildebrand had wound a wreath of oak-leaves amidst the dark locks. The noble features reposed in pallid and earnest beauty. At his feet, clad in a long mourning veil, sat the tall form of the Queen, supporting her head upon her left arm, which was laid upon the sarcophagus. Her right hand hung languidly down. She could weep no more. The crackling of the burning torches was the only sound in this stillness of the grave. Cethegus entered noiselessly, not unmoved by the poetry of the scene. But, contracting his brows, he smothered the passing feeling of compassion. He knew that it was necessary to be clear and composed. He gently drew near and took Amalaswintha's relaxed hand. "Rise, noble lady, you belong to the living, not to the dead." She looked up, startled. "You here, Cethegus? What seek you here?" "A Queen!" "Oh, you only find a weeping mother!" she cried, sobbing. "That I cannot believe. The kingdom is in danger, and Amalaswintha will show that even a woman can sacrifice her sorrow to the fatherland." "She can!" replied the Queen, rising. "But look at him. How young! how beautiful! How could Heaven be so cruel!" "Now, or never!" thought Cethegus, and said aloud: "Heaven is just, severe; not cruel." "Of what do you speak? What wrong has my noble son committed? Do you dare to accuse him?" "Not I! But a portion of Holy Writ has been fulfilled upon him: 'Honour thy father and mother, that thy days may be long in the land!' The commandment is also a threat. Yesterday he sinned against his mother and dishonoured her by bold rebellion--to-day he lies here. Therein I see the finger of God." Amalaswintha covered her face. She had heartily forgiven her son while watching beside his coffin. But still this view, these words, powerfully affected her, and drew her attention away from her grief to the well-loved habit of government. "You wish, O Queen, to suppress my examination, and recall Witichis. Witichis may be recalled. But I demand, as my right, that the prosecution be continued, and I fully expect a solemn acquittal." "I have never doubted your fidelity. Woe to me, should I be obliged to do so! Tell me that you know of no conspiracy, and all is ended." She seemed to expect his asseveration, Cethegus was silent for a short time. Then he quietly said: "Queen, I know of a conspiracy." "What say you?" cried the Queen, looking at him threateningly. "I have chosen this hour and place," continued Cethegus, with a glance at the corpse, "to put a seal to my devotion, so that it may be indelibly impressed upon your heart. Hear and judge me." "What shall I hear?" said the Queen, now upon her guard, and firmly resolved to allow herself to be neither deceived nor softened. "I should be a bad Roman, Queen, and you would despise me, if I did not love my nation above all things. That proud nation, which even you, a stranger, love! I know--as you know--that hatred against you as heretics and barbarians still smoulders in the hearts of most Italians. The last harsh deeds of your father have fanned this feeling into a flame. I suspected a conspiracy. I sought and discovered it." "And concealed it?" said the Queen, rising in anger. "And concealed it. Until to-day. The blind fools would have sought assistance from the Greeks, and, after destroying the Goths, subjected themselves to the Emperor." "The vile traitors!" cried Amalaswintha. "The fools! They had already gone so far, that only _one_ means was left by which to keep them back: I placed myself at their head." "Cethegus!" "In this manner I gained time, and was able to prevent noble, though blind men, from rushing to destruction. I opened their eyes by degrees, and showed them that their plan, if it succeeded, would have only exchanged a mild government for a despotic one. They acknowledged it; they obeyed me; and no Byzantine will ever touch Italian soil, until I call him, I--or you." "I! Do you rave?" "Sophocles, your favourite, says, 'Forswear nothing.' Be warned, Queen, for you do not see the pressing danger. Another conspiracy, much more dangerous than that of these Roman enthusiasts, and close to you, threatens you, your kingdom, and the Amelungs' right of sovereignty--a conspiracy of the Goths!" Amalaswintha turned pale. "You have seen yesterday, to your sorrow, that your hand can no more guide the rudder of this realm. Just as little as could that of your noble son, who was but the tool of your enemies. You know, Queen, that many of your nation are bloodthirsty, barbarous, rapacious, and brutal; they would like to levy contributions upon this land, where Virgil and Tullius wandered. Yon know that your insolent nobles hate the superiority of your royal house, and would make themselves its equal. You know that the rude Goths think unworthily of woman's vocation for government." "I know it," she said, proudly and angrily. "But you do not know that both these parties are united. They are united against you and your Roman predilections. They will overthrow you, or force you to do their will. Cassiodorus and I are to be dismissed from your side, our Senate and our rights to be dissolved, and the kingship to become a shadow. War is to be proclaimed against the Emperor; and force, extortion, and rapine, let loose upon us Romans." "You paint mere idle phantoms!" "Was that which happened yesterday an idle phantom? If Heaven had not intervened, would not you--like me--be robbed of all your power? Would you still be mistress in your kingdom, in your house? Are they not already so strong, that the heathen Hildebrand, the countrified Witichis, the gloomy Teja, openly defy your will in the name of your befooled son? Have they not recalled the three rebel dukes? And your perverse daughter, and----" "True, too true," sighed the Queen. "If these men should rule--then farewell science, art, and all noble culture! Farewell, Italia, mother of humanity! Then, burst into flame, you white parchments! crumble into fragments, you beautiful statues! Brutality and murder will run rife in these plains, and posterity will bear witness: 'Such things happened in the reign of Amalaswintha, the daughter of Theodoric.'" "Never, never shall that happen! But----" "You want proofs? I fear you will have them only too soon. However, you see, even now, that you cannot rely upon the Goths, if you wish to prevent such horrors. We alone can protect you against them; we, to whom you already belong by intellect and culture; we Romans. Then, when the barbarians surround your throne with uproar, let me rally the men around you who once conspired against you: the patriots of Rome! They will protect you and themselves at the same time." "Cethegus," said the distressed woman, "you influence men easily! Who, tell me, who will answer for the patriots? Who will answer for _your_ truth?" "This paper, Queen, and this! The first contains a correct list of the Roman conspirators. You see, there are many hundred names. This is a list of the members of the Gothic league, whom I certainly could only guess at. But I guess well. With these two papers I give both these parties--I give myself--completely into your hands. You can at any moment reveal me to my own party as a traitor, who, before all things, sought _your_ favour. You can expose me to the hatred of the Goths--as soon as you will. I shall be left without adherents. I stand alone; your favour is my only support." The Queen had glanced over the papers with sparkling eyes. "Cethegus," she exclaimed, "I will always remember your fidelity and this hour!" And she gave him her hand with emotion. Cethegus slightly bent his head. "Still one thing more, O Queen. The patriots, henceforward your friends as they are mine, know that the hate of the barbarians, the sword of destruction, hangs over their heads. Their anxious hearts require encouragement. Let me assure them of your high protection. Place your name at the head of this list, and let me thereby give them a visible sign of your favour." She took the golden stylus and the waxen tablets which he handed to her. For one moment she hesitated; then she quickly signed her name, and gave tablets and stylus back again. "Here! They must be faithful to me; as faithful as yourself!" At this moment Cassiodorus entered. "O Queen, the Gothic nobles await you. They wish to speak with you." "I come! They shall learn my will!" she said vehemently; "but you, Cassiodorus, shall be the first to know the decision to which I have come during this trying hour, and which will soon be known to my whole kingdom. Henceforward the Prefect of Rome is the first of my servants, as he is the most faithful. He has the place of honour in my trust and near my throne." Much astonished, Cassiodorus led the Queen up the dark steps. Cethegus followed slowly. He held up the tablets in his hand, and said to himself: "Now you are mine, daughter of Theodoric! Your name upon this list severs you for ever from your people!" CHAPTER II. As Cethegus emerged from the subterranean chamber into the ground-floor of the palace, and prepared to follow the Queen, his ear was caught and his progress arrested by the solemn and sorrowful tones of flutes. He guessed what it meant. His first impulse was to turn aside. But he presently decided to remain. It would happen some time, therefore it was best at once. He must find out how far she was informed. The tones of the flutes came nearer, alternating with a monotonous dirge. Cethegus stepped into a wide niche of the dark corridor, into which the head of a little procession already turned. Foremost came, two by two, six noble Roman maidens, covered with grey mourning veils, carrying reversed torches. Then followed a priest, before whom was borne the tall banner of the Cross, with long streamers. Next came a troop of the freedmen of the family of Boëthius, led by Corbulo and the flute-players. Then followed, borne by four Roman girls, an open coffin, covered with flowers. Upon it lay, on a white linen cloth, the dead Camilla, in bridal ornaments, a wreath in her dark hair, an expression of smiling peace upon her slightly-opened lips. Behind the coffin, with loosened hair, staring fixedly before her, came the unhappy mother, surrounded by matrons, who supported her sinking form. A company of female slaves closed the procession, which slowly disappeared into the vault. Cethegus recognised the sobbing Daphnidion, and stopped her. "When did she die?" he asked calmly. "Oh, sir, a few hours ago! Oh, the good, kind, beautiful Domna!" "Did she ever awaken to full consciousness?" "No, sir, never. Only quite at the last she once more opened her large eyes, and appeared to seek for something. 'Where has he gone?' she asked her mother. 'Ah, I see him!' she then cried, and rose from her cushions. 'Child, my child, where will you go?' cried my mistress, weeping. 'Oh, there!' she replied with a rapturous smile; 'to the Isles of the Blessed!' and she closed her eyes and fell back upon her couch; that lovely smile remained upon her lips--and she was gone, gone for ever!" "Who has caused her to be brought down here?" "The Queen. She learned everything, and gave orders that the deceased, as the bride of her son, should be laid beside him and buried in the same tomb." "But what says the physician? How could she die so suddenly?" "Alas! the physician saw her only for a moment; he was too much occupied with the royal corpse; and then my mistress would not suffer the strange man to touch her daughter. It is just her heart that has been broken; one can easily die of that! But peace--they come!" The procession returned in the same order as before, but without the coffin. Daphnidion joined it. Only Rusticiana was missing. Cethegus quietly walked up and down the corridor, to wait for her. At last her bowed-down form came slowly up the steps. She staggered and seemed about to fall. Cethegus quickly caught her arm. "Rusticiana, take courage!" "You here? God! you also loved her! And we--we two have murdered her!" and she sank upon his shoulder. "Silence, unhappy woman!" he whispered, looking around. "Alas! I, her own mother, have killed her! I mixed the fatal draught that caused his death." "All is well," thought Cethegus. "She has no suspicion that Camilla drank, and still less that I saw her do so.--It is a terrible stroke of Fate!" he said aloud. "But reflect, what would have followed had she lived? She loved him!" "What would have followed?" cried Rusticiana, receding. "Oh, if she but lived! Who can prevent love? Oh that she had become his--his wife--his mistress, provided only that she lived!" "But you forget that he _must_ have died?" "Must? Why must he have died? So that you might carry out your ambitious plans? Oh, selfishness without example!" "They are your plans that I carry out, not mine; how often must I repeat it? _You_ have conjured up the God of Revenge, not I. Why do you accuse me if he demand a sacrifice? Think better of it. Farewell." But Rusticiana violently seized his arm. "And that is all? And you have nothing more--not a word, not a tear for my child? And you would make me believe that you have acted thus to avenge her, to avenge me? You have never had a heart! You did not even love her--coldly you see her die! Ha, curses, curses upon thee!" "Be silent, frantic woman!" "Silent! no, I will speak and curse you! Oh that I knew of something that was as dear to you as Camilla was to me! Oh that you, like me, could see your whole life's last and only joy torn away--that you could see it vanish, and despair! If there be a God in heaven you will live to do so!" Cethegus smiled. "You do not believe in heavenly vengeance? Well, then, believe in the vengeance of a miserable mother! You shall tremble! I will hasten to the Queen and tell her all! You shall die!" "And you will die with me." "With a smile--if only I can see you perish!" and she would have hurried away, but Cethegus held her back with an iron grasp. "Stop, woman! Do you think that I am not on my guard with such as you? Your sons, Anicius and Severinus, are here in Italy, secretly--in Rome--in my house. You know that death is the penalty of their return. A word--and they die with us. Then you may take to your husband your sons, as well as your daughter, who has died by your means. Her blood upon your head!" and quickly turning the angle of the corridor, he disappeared. "My sons!" cried Rusticiana, and sank down upon the marble pavement. A few days after, the widow of Boëthius, with Corbulo and Daphnidion, left the court for ever. In vain the Queen sought to detain her. The faithful freedman took her back to the sheltered Villa of Tifernum, which she now deeply regretted ever having left. There, in the place of the little Temple of Venus, she erected a basilica, in the crypt of which an urn was placed, containing the hearts of the two lovers. In her passionate soul her prayers for the salvation of her child were inseparably bound up with a petition for revenge upon Cethegus, whose real share in Camilla's death she did not even suspect; she only felt that he had used mother and daughter as tools for his plans, and had sacrificed the girl's happiness and life with heartless coldness. And scarcely less continuously than the flame of the eternal lamp before the urn, the prayer and the curse of the lonely mother rose up to heaven. The hour came which disclosed to her all the Prefect's guilt, and the vengeance which she called down from heaven did not tarry. CHAPTER III. At the court of Ravenna there ensued a bitter and obstinate strife. The Gothic patriots, although deeply grieved at the sudden death of their youthful King, and, for the moment, overpowered, were very soon re-encouraged by their indefatigable leaders. The high consideration in which Hildebrand was held, the quiet strength of Witichis, who had returned, and Teja's watchful zeal, operated continuously. We have seen that these men had succeeded in inducing Athalaric to shake off the authority of his mother. It was now easy for them to find ever new adherents amongst the Goths against a government in which the hated Cethegus would come more than ever to the front. The feeling in the army and the Germanic population of Ravenna was sufficiently prepared for a decisive stroke. The old master-at-arms with difficulty restrained the discontented, until, strengthened by important confederates, they could be more certain of success. These confederates were the three dukes, Thulun, Ibba, and Pitza, whom Amalaswintha had driven away from court, and whom her son had so lately recalled. Thulun and Ibba were brothers; Pitza was their cousin. Another brother of the former, Duke Alaric, had been condemned to death some years ago on account of a pretended conspiracy, and since his flight (for he had succeeded in escaping) nothing had been heard of him. They were the offspring of the celebrated race of the Balthe, who had worn the crown of the Visigoths, and were scarcely inferior in ancient descent and rank to the Amelungs. Their pedigree, like that of the Royal House, descended from the gods. The wealth of their possessions in land and dependent colonies, and the fame of their warlike deeds, enhanced the power and glory of their house. It was said amongst the people that Theodoric had, for a while, thought of passing over his daughter and her son, and, in the interest of the kingdom, of appointing the powerful Duke Thulun as his successor. And, after the death of Athalaric, the patriots were decided, in case of the worst--that is, if the Queen could not be persuaded to renounce her system--once more to entertain this idea. Cethegus saw the threatening tempest. He saw how Gothic national feeling, awakened by Hildebrand and his friends, grew more opposed to the Romanising Regency. He indignantly confessed to himself that he had no real power with which to keep down discontent. Ravenna was not his Rome, where he controlled all proceedings, where he had again accustomed the citizens to the use of arms, and attached them to his person; here all the troops were Goths, and he could only fear that they would reply to an order for the arrest of Hildebrand or Witichis by open rebellion. So he took a bold resolution to free himself at one stroke from the net which encompassed him in Ravenna. He decided to take the Queen, if necessary by force, to Rome. There he was mighty, had weapons and adherents; there Amalaswintha would be exclusively in his power, and the Goths would be frustrated. To his delight, the Queen entered into his plan with eagerness. She longed to be out of these walls, where she appeared to be more a prisoner than a ruler. She longed for Rome, freedom, and power. Cethegus took his measures with his usual rapidity. He was obliged to renounce the shorter way by land, for upon the broad Via Flaminia, as well as on the other roads from Ravenna to Rome, escorts of Gothic troops were stationed, and it was therefore to be feared that their flight by any of these ways would be easily discovered, and perhaps impeded. Fortunately the Prefect remembered that the Navarchus, or captain of the galleys, Pomponius, one of the conspirators, was cruising about in chase of African pirates on the east coast of the Adriatic, with three triremes, manned by Romans. To him he sent an order to appear in the harbour of Ravenna on the night of the Feast of Epiphany. He hoped, while the town was occupied with religious festivities, to reach the ships with Amalaswintha easily and safely from the gardens of the palace, when they would be taken by sea past the Gothic positions to Teate. Thence the way to Rome was short and safe. With this plan in his mind--his messenger had safely gone and returned with the promise of Pomponius to appear punctually--the Prefect smiled at the daily increasing hate and insolence of the Goths, who observed his position of favourite with bitter displeasure. He warned Amalaswintha to be patient and not, by an outbreak of her royal wrath against the "rebels," to occasion a collision before the day of deliverance, which might easily render vain all plans of rescue. The Feast of Epiphany arrived. The people crowded the basilicas and squares of the city. The jewels of the treasury were ready ordered and packed, as well as the most important documents of the archives. It was mid-day. Amalaswintha and the Prefect had just told their friend Cassiodorus of their plan, the boldness of which at first startled him, but he very soon perceived its prudence. They were just about to leave the room where they had told him of their intentions, when suddenly the uproar made by the populace--who were crowding before the palace--became louder and more violent; threats, cries of exultation, and the clatter of arms arose promiscuously. Cethegus threw back the curtain of the large bay-window, but he only saw the last of the crowd pressing through the open gates of the palace. It was not possible to discover the cause of this excitement. Already the uproar was ascending the staircase of the palace. The noise of altercations with the attendants was audible; the clash of weapons; and soon approaching and heavy footsteps. Amalaswintha did not tremble; she tightly grasped the dragon's head which decorated the throne-seat, to which Cassiodorus had again led her. Meanwhile Cethegus hurried to meet the intruders. "Halt!" he called from the threshold of the chamber. "The Queen is visible for no one." For one moment there was complete silence. Then a powerful voice called out: "If for thee, Roman, also for us, for her Gothic brethren. Forwards!" And again the roar of voices arose, and in a moment Cethegus, without the application of any particular violence, was pushed by the press, as if by an irresistible tide, into the farthest corner of the hall, and the foremost intruders stood close before the throne. They were Hildebrand, Witichis, Teja, a gigantic Goth, unknown to Cethegus, and near this last--there was no doubt about it--the three dukes, Thulun, Ibba, and Pitza, in full armour--three splendid warriors. The intruders bowed before the throne. Then Duke Thulun called to those behind him, with the gesture of a born ruler: "Goths, wait yet a short time without! We will try; in your name, to adjust things with the Queen. If we do not succeed, we will call upon you to act--you know in what manner." With a shout of applause, the crowd behind him willingly withdrew, and were soon lost in the outer passages and halls of the palace. "Daughter of Theodoric," began Duke Thulun, "we are come because thy son, the King, recalled us. Unfortunately we find he is no more alive. We know that thou hast no delight in seeing us here." "If you know it," said Amalaswintha with dignity, "how dare you, notwithstanding, appear before our eyes? Who allows you to intrude upon us against our will?" "Necessity enjoins it, Highness--necessity, which has often forced stronger bolts than the whims of a woman. We have to announce to thee the demands of thy people, which thou wilt fulfil." "What language! Knowest thou before whom thou standest, Duke Thulun?" "Before the daughter of the Amelungs; whose child I honour, even when she errs and transgresses!" "Rebel!" cried Amalaswintha, and rose indignantly from her throne. "Thy _King_ stands before thee!" But Thulun smiled. "It would be wiser, Amalaswintha, to be silent upon this point. King Theodoric charged thee with the guardianship of thy son--thee, a woman! It was against the law; but we Goths did not interfere between him and his kindred. He wished this boy to be his successor. That was not prudent; but the nobles and people have honoured the race of the Amelungs and the wish of a King, who else was ever wise. But he never wished, and we should never have allowed, that after the death of that boy a woman should reign over us--the spindle over the spear." "So you refuse to acknowledge me as your Queen?" she cried indignantly. "And thou, too, Hildebrand, old friend of Theodoric, thou disownest his daughter?" "Queen," said the old man, "would that thou wouldst prevent it!" Thulun continued: "We do not disown thee--not yet. I only answer thee thus because thou boastest of thy right, and thou must know that thou hast no right. But as we gladly honour noble birth--in which we honour ourselves--and because at this moment it might lead to evil dissensions in the kingdom if we deprived thee of the crown, I will repeat the conditions under which thou mayst continue to wear it." Amalaswintha suffered terribly. How gladly would she have delivered the bold man who spoke such words into the hands of the executioner! And she was obliged to listen helplessly! Tears rose to her eyes; she repressed them, but at the same time sank back exhausted upon the throne, supported by Cassiodorus. Meanwhile Cethegus had made his way to her side. "Concede everything," he whispered; "it is forced and null. And to-night Pomponius will arrive. "Speak!" said Cassiodorus; "but spare the woman, barbarians!" "Ha! ha!" laughed Duke Pitza. "She will not be treated like a woman. She is our _King_!" "Peace, cousin!" said Duke Thulun reprovingly; "she is of noble blood. First," he continued, "thou must dismiss the Prefect of Rome. He is said to be an enemy of the Goths; he may not advise the Gothic Queen. Earl Witichis will take his place near thy throne." "Agreed!" said Cethegus himself, instead of Amalaswintha. "Secondly, thou wilt declare, in a proclamation, that for the future no order of thine can be executed which is not signed by Hildebrand or Witichis; and that no law is valid without the ratification of the National Assembly." The Queen started up angrily; but Cethegus held her arm. "Pomponius comes to-night," he whispered. Then he said aloud, "This also is agreed to." "The third condition," resumed Thulun, "is one which thou wilt as willingly grant as we ask it. We three Balthes have not learned to bow our heads in a prince's court. The roof here is too low for us. It is better that Amelungs and Balthes live as far apart as the eagle and the falcon. And the realm needs our weapons upon its boundaries. Our neighbours think that the land is orphaned since thy great father died, Avari, Gepidæ, and Sclavonians fearlessly overstep the frontiers. In order to punish these three nations, thou wilt equip three armies, each of thirty thousand; and we three Balthes will lead them, as thy generals, to the east and to the north." "The whole military force also in their hands--not bad!" thought Cethegus. "Accepted!" he cried aloud, smiling. "And what remains to me," asked Amalaswintha, "when I have granted all this?" "A golden crown upon a white forehead," said Duke Ibba. "Thou canst write like a Greek," re-commenced Thulun. "Such arts are not learned in vain. This parchment should contain all that we demand; my slave has written it down." He gave it to Witichis to examine. "Is it so? 'Tis well. That thou wilt sign, Princess. Good. We have finished. Now, Hildebrand, speak with yonder Roman." But Teja was beforehand. He advanced to the Prefect, trembling with hate, his sword in his hand. "Prefect of Rome," said he, "blood has been shed--precious, noble, Gothic blood! It consecrates the furious strife which will soon be kindled. Blood, which thou shalt atone----" His voice was suffocated with rage. "Bah!" cried Hildebad--for he was the tall Goth--pushing him aside. "Make not such a to-do about it! My dear brother can easily part with a little superfluous blood; and the others lost more than he could spare. There, thou black devil!" he cried, turning to Cethegus, and holding a broad-sword close before his eyes, "knowest thou that?" "Pomponius's sword!" cried Cethegus, turning pale and staggering back a step. Amalaswintha and Cassiodorus asked in alarm, "Pomponius?" "Aha!" laughed Hildebad. "That is shocking, is it not? Nothing will come of the water-party!" "Where is Pomponius--my Navarchus?" asked Amalaswintha vehemently. "With the sharks, Queen, in deep water." "Ha! death and destruction!" exclaimed Cethegus, now carried away by his anger. "How happened that?" "Merrily enough! My brother Totila--thou surely knowest him?--lay in the harbour of Ancona with two little ships. Thy friend Pomponius had had for some days such an insolent expression of countenance, and had let fall such bragging words, that it struck even my unsuspicious brother. One morning Pomponius suddenly disappeared from the harbour with his three triremes. Totila smelt a rat, spread all sail, pursued him, overtook him off Pisaurum, stopped him, went on board with me and a few others, and asked him whither he would be going." "He had no right to do so. Pomponius will have given him no answer." "He did so, for all that, most excellent Cethegus! When he saw that we were only ten upon his ship, he laughed, and cried, 'Whither sail I? To Ravenna, thou downy-beard, to save the Queen from your claws, and take her to. Rome!' And he therewith made a sign to his crew. But we, too, threw our shields before us, and--hurrah! how the swords flew from the sheaths! It was hard work--ten to forty! But happily it did not last long. Our comrades in the nearest ship heard the iron rattle, and were quickly alongside with their boats, and climbed the bulwarks like cats. Now we had the upper hand; but the Navarchus--to give the devil his due!--would not yield; fought like to madman, and pierced my brother's arm through his shield, so that the blood spouted. But then my brother got into a rage too, and ran his spear through the other's body, so that he fell like an ox. 'Greet the Prefect,' he said, as he lay dying, 'give him my sword, his gift, back again, and tell him that no one can cheat Death, else I had kept my word!' I swore to him that I would confirm his words. He was a brave man. Here is the sword." Cethegus took it in silence. "The ships yielded, and my brother took them back to Ancona. But I sailed here with the swiftest, and met the three Balthes in the harbour, just at the right moment." A pause ensued, during which Cethegus and Amalaswintha bitterly contemplated their desperate position. Cethegus had consented to everything in the sure hope of flight, which was now frustrated. His well-considered plan was balked; balked by Totila; and hatred of this name entered deeply into the Prefect's soul. His grim reflections were interrupted by the voice of Thulun, asking: "Well, Amalaswintha, wilt thou sign? or shall we call upon the Goths to choose a King?" At these words Cethegus quickly recovered himself. He took the tablets from the hand of the Duke and handed them to the Queen. "It is necessary, O Queen," he said in a low voice; "you have no choice." Cassiodorus gave her the stylus, she wrote her name and Thulun received the tablets. "'Tis well," said he; "we go to announce to the Goths that their kingdom is saved. Thou, Cassiodorus, accompany us to bear witness that all has been done without violence." At a sign from Amalaswintha the senator obeyed, and followed the Gothic leaders to the Forum before the palace. When the Queen found herself alone with Cethegus, she started from her seat. She could no longer restrain her tears. She passionately struck her forehead. Her pride was terribly humbled. She felt the shame of this hour more deeply than the loss of husband, father, or even of her son. "Then this," she cried, weeping loudly, "this is man's superiority! Brutal, clumsy force! O, Cethegus, all is lost!" "Not all, Queen, only a plan. I beg you to keep me in kindly remembrance," he added coldly. "I go to Rome." "What? you will leave me at this moment? You, you have made me give all these promises, which rob me of my throne, and now you forsake me! Oh! it were better that I had resisted, I should then have remained indeed a Queen, even if they had set the crown upon the head of that rebel Duke!" "Certainly," thought Cethegus, "better for you, worse for me. No, no hero shall ever again wear this Gothic crown." He had quickly seen that Amalaswintha could no longer serve him, and just as quickly he gave her up. He was already thinking of a new tool for his plans. Yet he decided to disclose to her a portion of his thoughts, in order that she might not act upon her own account, contradict her promises, and thereby cause the crown to obvert to Thulun. "I go, O Queen," he said; "but I do not therefore forsake you. Here I can no longer serve you. They have banished me from your side, and will guard you as jealously as a lover his mistress." "But what shall I do with these promises? what with the three dukes?" "Wait, and, at present, submit. And as to the three dukes," he added hesitatingly, "they go to the wars--perhaps they will never return." "Perhaps!" sighed the Queen. "Of what use is a 'perhaps?'" Cethegus came close to her. "As soon as you wish it--they _shall_ never return." The woman trembled: "Murder? Terrible man, of what are you thinking?" "Of what is necessary. Murder is a wrong expression. It is self-defence. Or a punishment. If you had now the power, you would have a perfect right to kill them. They are rebels. They force your royal will. They kill your Navarchus; they deserve death." "And they _shall_ die," whispered Amalaswintha to herself, clenching her fist; "they shall not live, these brutal men, who force a Queen to do their behest. You are right--they shall die!" "They must die--they and," he added in a tone of intense hatred, "and--the young hero!" "Wherefore Totila? He is the handsomest and most valiant youth in the nation!" "He dies!" growled Cethegus. "Oh that he would die ten times over!" And such bitter hatred flamed from his eyes, that, suddenly seen in a man of such a cold nature, it both startled and terrified Amalaswintha. "I shall send you from Rome," he continued rapidly in a low tone, "three trusty men, Isaurian mercenaries. These you will send after the three Balthes, as soon as they have reached their several camps. You understand that _you_, the Queen, send them; for they are executioners, no murderers. The three dukes must fall on the same day--I myself will care for handsome Totila--the bold stroke will alarm the whole nation. During the first consternation of the Goths I will hurry here from Rome, with troops, to your aid. Farewell." He departed, and left alone the helpless woman, upon whose ear now broke the shouts of the assembled multitude from the Forum in front of the palace, extolling the success of their leaders and the submission of Amalaswintha. She felt quite forsaken. She suspected that the last promise of the Prefect was little more than an empty word of comfort to palliate his departure. Overcome by sorrow, she rested her cheek upon her beautiful hand, and was lost for some time in futile meditations. Suddenly the curtain at the entrance rustled. An officer of the palace stood before her. "Ambassadors from Byzantium desire an audience. Justinus is dead. His nephew Justinianus is Emperor. He tenders a brotherly greeting and his friendship." "Justinianus!" This name penetrated the very soul of the unhappy woman. She saw herself robbed of her son, thwarted by her people, forsaken by Cethegus. In her sad musings she had been seeking in vain for help and support, and, with a sigh of relief, she again repeated, "Justinianus--Byzantium!" CHAPTER IV. In the woods of Fiesole, a modern wanderer coming from Florence will find to the right of the high-road the ruins of an extensive villa-like edifice. Ivy, saxifrage and wild roses vie with each other in concealing the ruins. For centuries the peasants in the neighbouring villages have carried away stones from this place in order to dam up the earth of their vineyards on the slopes of the hills. But even yet the remains clearly show where once stood the colonnade before the house, where the central hall, and where the wall of the court. Weeds grow luxuriantly in the meadows where once lay in shining order the beautiful gardens; nothing has been left of them except the wide marble basin of a long dried-up fountain, in whose pebble-filled runnels the lizards now sun themselves. But in the days of our story the place looked very different. "The Villa of Mæcenas at Fæsulæ," as the building, probably with little or no reason, was called at that time, was inhabited by happy people; the house ordered by a woman's careful hand; the garden enlivened by childhood's bright laughter. The climbing clematis was gracefully trained up the slender shafts of the Corinthian columns in front of the house, and the cheerful vine shaded the flat roof. The winding walks in the garden were strewed with white sand, and in the outhouses dedicated to domestic uses reigned an order and cleanliness which was never to be found in a household served by Roman slaves alone. It was sunset. The men and maid servants were returning from the fields. The heavily-laden hay-carts swung along, drawn by horses which were evidently not of Italian breed. The shepherds were driving goats and sheep home from the hills, accompanied by large dogs, which scampered on in front, barking joyously. Close before the yard gate, a couple of Roman slaves, with shrill voices and mad gestures, were urging on the panting horses of a cruelly over-laden wagon, not with whips, but with sticks, the iron points of which they stuck again and again into the same sore place upon the poor animals' hides. In spite of this, no advance was made, for a large stone lay just in front of the left fore-wheel of the wagon, which the angry and impatient drivers did not notice. "Forwards, beast! and son of a beast!" screamed one of them to the struggling horse; "forwards, thou Gothic sluggard!" Another stab with the iron point, a renewed and desperate pull; but the wheel did not go over the stone, and the tortured animal fell on its knees, threatening to upset the wagon by its struggles. At this the rage of the driver was redoubled. "Wait, thou rascal!" he shouted, and struck at the eye of the panting animal. But he only struck once; the next moment he himself fell under a heavy blow. "Davus, thou wicked dog!" growled a powerful voice, and, twice as tall, and certainly twice as broad as the frightened tormentor, there stood over the fallen man a gigantic Goth, who rained down blows upon him with a thick cudgel. "Thou miserable coward," said he, giving him a final kick, "I will teach thee how to treat a creature which is ten times better than thyself. I verily believe, thou rascal, that thou treatest the beast ill, because he comes from the other side of the mountains! If I catch thee at it again, I will break every bone in thy body. Now get up, and unload--thou shalt carry every swath that is too much into the barn upon thine own back. Forwards!" With a malicious glance at his punisher the beaten man rose, and, limping, prepared to obey. The Goth had immediately helped the struggling horse to its feet, and now carefully washed its broken knees with his own evening drink of wine and water. He had scarcely finished his task, when the clear voice of a boy called urgently from a neighbouring stable: "Wachis, come here; Wachis!" "I'm coming, Athalwin, my boy! What's the matter?" And he already stood in the open door of the stable near a handsome boy of about seven years of age, who angrily stroked his long yellow hair from his glowing face, and with great trouble repressed two large tears of rage that _would_ spring into his blue eyes. He held a pretty wooden sword in his right hand, and shook it threateningly at a black-browed slave who stood opposite to him, with his head insolently thrust forward and his fists clenched. "What is the matter here?" repeated Wachis, crossing the threshold. "The chesnut has again nothing to drink; and only look! Two gadflies have sucked themselves fast upon his shoulder, where he cannot get at them with his tail, and I cannot reach with my hand; and that bad Cacus there won't do what I tell him; and I am sure he has been scolding at me in Latin, which I don't understand." Wachis drew nearer with a threatening look. "I only said," said Cacus, slowly receding, "that I must first eat my millet. The beast may wait. In our country men come before beasts." "Indeed, thou dunce!" said Wachis, as he killed the gadflies; "in our country the horse eats before the rider! Make haste!" But Cacus was strong and obstinate; he tossed his head and said: "Here, we are in _our_ country, and _our_ customs must be followed." "Oho, thou cursed blockhead! wilt thou obey?" asked Wachis, raising his hand. "Obey? Not thee! Thou art only a slave like me. And my parents lived in this house when such as thou were stealing cows and sheep on the other side of the mountains." Wachis let his cudgel fall and swung his arms to and fro. "Listen, Cacus, I have another crow to pluck with thee besides; thou knowest wherefore. Now it can all be done with at the same time." "Ha, ha!" cried Cacus with a mocking laugh, "about Liuta, the flaxen-haired wench? Bah! I like her no longer, the barbarian. She dances like a heifer!" "Now it's all up with thee," said Wachis quietly, and caught hold of his adversary. But Cacus twisted himself like an eel out of the grasp of the Goth, pulled a sharp knife from the folds of his woollen frock and threw it at him. As Wachis stooped the knife whistled only a hair's-breadth past his head, and penetrated deeply into the door-post behind him. "Well, wait, thou murderous worm!" cried the German, and would have thrown himself upon Cacus, but he felt himself clasped from behind. It was Davus, who had watched for this moment of revenge. But now Wachis became exceedingly wroth. He shook the man off, held him by the nape of the neck with his left hand, got hold of Cacus with his right, and, with the strength of a bear, knocked the heads of his adversaries together, accompanying every knock with an interjection, "There, my boys--that for the knife--and that for the back-spring--and that for the heifer!" And who knows how long this strange litany would have continued, if he had not been interrupted by a loud call. "Wachis! Cacus! let loose, I tell you," cried the strong fall voice of a woman; and a stately matron, clad in a blue Gothic garment, appeared at the door. She was not tall, and yet imposing. Her fine figure was more sturdy than slender. Her gold-brown hair was bound in simple but rich braids round her head; her features were regular; more firm than delicate. An expression of sincerity, worth, and trustfulness lay in her large blue eyes. Her round bare arms showed that she was no stranger to work. At her broad girdle, over which puffed out her brown under-garment of home-spun cloth, rattled a bunch of keys; she rested her left hand quietly upon her hip, and stretched her right commandingly before her. "Aye, aye, Rauthgundis, mistress mine," said Wachis, letting loose, "must you have your eyes everywhere?" "Everywhere, when my servants are at mischief. When will you learn to agree? You Italians need a master in the house. But thou, Wachis, shouldst not vex the housewife too. Come, Athalwin, come with me." And she led the boy away. She went into a side-yard, filled her raised skirt with grain out of a trough, and fed the fowls and pigeons, which immediately flocked around her. For a little while Athalwin watched her silently. At last he said: "Mother, is it true? Is father a robber?" Rauthgundis suspended her occupation, and looked at the child in surprise. "Who said so?" "Who? Eh, the nephew of Calpurnius! We were playing on the great heap of hay in his meadow, and I showed him how far the land belongs to us on the right of the hedge--far and wide--as far as our servants were mowing, and the brook shone in the distance. Then he got angry and said, 'Yes, and all that land once belonged to us, and thy father or thy grandfather stole it, the robbers!'" "Indeed! And what didst thou reply?" "Eh, nothing at all, mother. I only threw him over the hay-cock, with his heels in the air. But now I should like to know if it is true." "No, child, it is not true. Your father did not steal it, but took it openly, because he was stronger and better than these Italians. And heroes have done the same in all ages. And when the Italians were strong and their neighbours weak, they did so most of all. But now come; we must look after the linen that is bleaching on the green." As they turned their backs upon the stables, and were going towards the grassy hill on the left of the house, they heard the rapid hoof-beats of a horse, which was approaching on the old Roman high-road. Athalwin climbed quickly to the top of the hill and looked towards the road. A rider, mounted on an immense brown charger, galloped down the woody heights towards the villa. Brightly sparkled his helmet and the point of the lance, which he carried across his shoulder. "It is father, mother; it is father!" cried the boy, and ran swift as an arrow down the hill to meet the rider. Rauthgundis had just now reached the top of the hill. Her heart beat. She shaded her eyes with her hand, to look into the evening-red; then she said in a low happy voice: "Yes, it is he! my husband." CHAPTER V. Meanwhile Athalwin had already reached his father and climbed up his knee, clinging to his foot. The rider lifted him up with a loving hand, set him before him in the saddle, and spurred his horse into a gallop. The noble animal, once the charger of Theodoric, neighed lustily as he recognised his home and his mistress, and shook his flowing mane. The rider now reached the hill, and dismounted with the boy. "My dear wife!" he exclaimed, embracing her tenderly. "My Witichis!" she answered, blushing with pleasure, and clinging to him; "welcome home!" "I promised that I would come before the new moon--it was difficult----" "But thou hast kept thy word, as always." "My heart drew me here," he said, putting his arm around her. They went on slowly to the house. "It seems, Athalwin, that Wallada is of more consequence to thee than thy father," said Witichis, smiling, to the boy, who was leading the horse carefully after them. "No, father; but give me the lance too--I have not often such a pleasure in this country life;" and dragging the long, heavy shaft of the spear after him with difficulty, he cried out: "Eh! Wachis, Ansbrand! father has come! Fetch the skin of Falernian from the cellar. Father is thirsty after his rapid ride!" With a smile Witichis stroked the golden curls of the boy, who now hurried past them to the house. "Well, and how does all go on here?" asked Witichis, looking at Rauthgundis. "Very well, Witichis. The harvest is all brought in, the grapes crushed, the sheaves housed." "I do not ask about that," said he, pressing her tenderly to him--"how art thou?" "As well as a poor woman can be," she answered, looking up at him, "who misses her well-loved husband. Work is the only thing that comforts me, my friend; plenty of occupation, which benumbs a sensitive heart. I often think how thou, far away amongst strange people, must trouble thyself in court and camp, where there is none to cherish thee. At least, I say to myself, he shall find his home well-kept and cheerful when he returns. And it is that, seest thou, which sanctifies and ennobles all the dull routine of work, and makes it dear to me." "That's my brave wife! But dost thou not too much fatigue thyself?" "Work is healthy. But vexation, and the men's wickedness, _that_ hurts me!" Witichis stood still. "Who dares to grieve thee?" "Ah! the Italian servants, and our Italian neighbours! They all hate us. Woe to us, if they did not fear us. Calpurnius, our neighbour, is so insolent when he knows thou art absent, and the Roman slaves are disobedient and false; our Gothic servants alone are good." Witichis sighed. They had now arrived at the house, and sat down at a marble table under the colonnade. "Thou must remember," said Witichis, "that our neighbour was forced to give up to us the third part of his estate and slaves." "And has kept two-thirds, and his life into the bargain--he ought to thank God!" answered Rauthgundis contemptuously. Just then Athalwin came running with a basketful of apples, which he had plucked from the tree. Presently Wachis and the other German servants came with wine, meat, and cheese, and greeted their master with a frank clasp of the hand. "Well done, my children. The mistress praises you. But where are Davus, Cacus, and the others?" "Pardon, sir," answered Wachis, grinning, "they have a bad conscience." "Why? What about?" "Eh!--I think--because I have beaten them little; they are ashamed." The other men laughed. "Well, it will do them no harm," said Witichis; "go now to your meal. To-morrow I will examine your work." The men went. "What is that about Calpurnius?" asked Witichis, pouring wine into his cup. Rauthgundis blushed and hesitated. "He has carried away the hay from the mountain meadow," she then replied, "which our men had mowed; and has put it into his barn by night, and will not return it." "He will return it quickly enough, I think," said her husband quietly, as he took up his cup and drank. "Yes," cried Athalwin eagerly, "I think so too! And if he will not, all the better for me! Then we will declare war, and I will go over with Wachis and all the great fellows, with weapons and pikes! He always looks at me so wickedly, the black spy!" Rauthgundis told him to be silent, and sent him to bed. "Very well, I will go," he said; "but, father, when thou comest again, thou wilt bring me a real weapon, instead of this stick, wilt thou not?" and he ran into the house. "Contentions with these Italians never cease," said Witichis; "the very children inherit the feeling. But it causes thee far too much vexation here. So much the more willingly wilt thou do what I now propose: come with me to Ravenna, Rauthgundis, to court." His wife looked at him with astonishment. "Thou art joking!" she said incredulously. "Thou hast never before wished it! During the nine years of our married life, it has never entered thy head to take me to court! I believe no one in all the nation knows that a Rauthgundis exists. For a surety, thou hast kept our marriage secret," she added, smiling, "like a crime!" "Like a treasure!" said Witichis, embracing her. "I have never asked thee wherefore. I was and am happy; and I thought and think now: he has his reason." "I had a good reason: it exists no longer. Now thou mayest know all. A few months after I had found thee amid the solitudes of thy mountains, and had conceived an affection for thee, King Theodoric hit upon the strange idea, to unite me in marriage with his sister Amalaberga, the widow of the King of the Thuringians, who needed the protection of a man against her wicked neighbours, the Franks." "Thou wert to wear a crown?" asked Rauthgundis, with sparkling eyes. "But Rauthgundis was dearer to me," continued Witichis, "than Queen or crown, and I said, No. It vexed the King exceedingly, and he only forgave me when I told him that probably I should never marry. At that time I could not hope ever to call thee mine; thou knowest how long thy father suspiciously and sternly refused to trust thee to me; but when, notwithstanding, thou wert become my wife, I considered that it would not be wise to show the King the woman for whose sake I had refused his sister." "But why hast thou concealed all this from me for nine long years?" "Because," he said, looking lovingly into her eyes, "because I know my Rauthgundis. Thou wouldst ever have imagined I had lost I know not what with that crown! But now the King is dead, and I am permanently bound to the court. Who knows when I shall again rest in the shadow of these columns, in the peace of this roof?" And he related briefly the fall of the Prefect, and what position he now held near Amalaswintha. Rauthgundis listened attentively; then she took his hand and pressed it. "It is good, Witichis, that the Goths gradually find out thy worth, and thou art more cheerful, I think, than usual." "Yes; I feel more contented since I can bear part of the burden of the time. It was much more difficult to stand idly by and see it pressing heavily upon my nation. I am only sorry for the Queen, she is like a prisoner." "Bah! Why did the woman grasp at the office of a man? Such a thing would never enter my head." "Thou art no Queen, Rauthgundis, and Amalaswintha is proud." "I am ten times prouder than she! but not so vain. She can never have loved a man, nor understood his nature and worth, otherwise she could not wish to fill a man's place." "At court that is looked upon in a different manner. But do come with me to Ravenna." "No, Witichis," she quietly said, rising from her seat, "the court is not fit for me, nor I for the court. I am the child of a mountain farmer, and far too uncultured. Look at this brown neck," she laughed, "and these rough hands! I cannot tinkle on the lyre, or read verses. I should be ill suited for the fine Roman ladies, and thou wouldst have little honour with me." "Surely thou dost not consider thyself too bad for the court?" "No, Witichis, too good." "Well, people must learn to bear with and appreciate each other." "I could not do that. They could perhaps learn to bear with me, out of fear of thee. But I should daily tell them to their faces that they are hollow, false, and bad!" "So, then, thou wilt rather do without thy husband for months?" "Yes, rather do without him, than be near him in a false and unfitting position. Oh, my Witichis!" she added, encircling his neck with her arm, "consider who I am and how thou foundest me! where the last settlements of our people dot the edge of the Alps, high up upon the steep precipices of the Scaranzia; where the youthful Isara breaks foaming out of the ravines into the open plains, there stands my father's lonely farm; there I knew of nought but the hard work of summer upon the quiet alms, of winter in the smoke-blackened hall, spinning with the maids. My mother died early, and my brothers were killed by the Italians. So I grew up lonely, no one near me but my old father, who was as true, but also as hard and close, as his native rocks. There I saw nothing of the world which lay outside our mountains. Only sometimes, from a height, I watched with curiosity a pack-horse going along the road deep below in the valley, laden with salt or wine. I sat through many a shining summer evening upon the jagged peaks of the high Arn, and looked at the sun sinking splendidly over the far-away river Licus; and I wondered what it had seen the whole long summer day, since it had risen over the broad [OE]nus; and I thought how I should like to know what things looked like at the other side of the Karwändel, or away behind the Brennus, over which my brothers had gone and had never returned. And yet I felt how beautiful it was up there in the green solitude, where I heard the golden eagle screaming in its near eyrie, and where I plucked more lovely flowers than ever grow in the plains, and even, sometimes, heard by night the mountain-wolf howling outside the stable-door, and frightened it away with a torch. In early autumn, too, and in the long winter, I had time to sit and muse; when the white mist-veils spun themselves over the lofty pines; when the mountain wind tore the blocks of stone from our straw-roof, and the avalanches thundered from the precipices. So I grew up, strange to the world beyond the next forest, only at home in the quiet world of my thoughts, and in the narrow life of the peasant. Then thou earnest--I remember it as if it had happened yesterday----" She ceased, lost in recollection. "I remember it too, exactly," said Witichis. "I was leading a centumvirate from Juvavia to the Augusta-town on the Licus. I had lost my way and my people. For a long time I had wandered about in the sultry summer day, without finding a path, when I saw smoke rising above a fir-tree grove, and soon I found a hidden farm, and entered the yard-gate. There stood a splendid girl at the pump, lifting a bucket----" "Look, even here in the valley, in this southern valley of the Alps, it is often too close for me; and I long for a breath of air from the pine-woods of my mountains. But at court, in the narrow gilded chambers! there I should languish and pine away. Leave me here; I shall manage Calpurnius well enough. And thou, I know well, wilt still think of home, wife, and child, when absent in the royal halls." "Yes, God knows, with longing thoughts! Well then, remain here, and God keep thee, my good wife!" The second day after this conversation Witichis again rode away up the wooded heights. The parting hour had made him almost tender; but he had firmly checked the outbreak of feeling which it was so repugnant to his simple and manly nature to indulge in. How the brave man's heart clung to his trusty wife and darling boy! Behind him trotted Wachis, who would not be prevented from accompanying his master for a short distance. Suddenly he rode up to him. "Sir," said he, "I know something." "Indeed! Why didst not tell it?" "Because no one asked me about it." "Well, I ask thee about it." "Yes; if one is asked, then of course he must answer! The mistress has told you that Calpurnius is such a bad neighbour?" "Yes; what about that?" "But she did not tell you since when?" "No; dost thou know?" "Well, it was about half a year ago. About that time Calpurnius once met the mistress in the wood, alone as they both thought; but they were not alone. Some one lay in a ditch, and was taking his mid-day nap." "Thou wert that sluggard!" "Rightly guessed. And Calpurnius said something to the mistress." "What did he say?" "That I did not understand. But the mistress was not idle; she lifted her hand and struck him in the face with such a smack, that it resounded. And since then our neighbour is a bad neighbour, and I wanted to tell you, because I thought the mistress would not wish to vex you about the rascal; but still it is better that you know it. And see! there stands Calpurnius at his house door; do you see? and now farewell, dear master." And with this he turned his horse and galloped home. But the blood rushed to Witichis' face. He rode up to his neighbour's door. Calpurnius was about to retreat into the house, but Witichis called to him in such a voice, that he was obliged to remain. "What do you want with me, neighbour Witichis?" he asked, looking up at him askance. Witichis drew rein, and stopped his horse close to him. Then he held his clenched iron-gloved fist close before his neighbour's eyes. "Neighbour Calpurnius," he said quietly, "if _I_ ever strike thee in the face, thou wilt never rise again." Calpurnius started back in a fright. But Witichis gave his horse the spur, and rode proudly and slowly upon his way. CHAPTER VI. In his study at Rome, comfortably stretched upon the soft cushions of a lectus, lay Cethegus the Prefect. He was of good cheer. His examination had ended with full acquittal. Only in case of an immediate search in his house--such as the young King had ordered, but which his death had frustrated--could discovery have been apprehended. He had succeeded in gaining permission to complete the fortifications of Rome, supplying the funds out of his own exchequer, which circumstance still more increased his influence in that city. The evening before he had held a meeting in the Catacombs. All the reports were favourable; the patriots were increasing in number and means. The greater oppression which since the late occurrences at Ravenna weighed upon the Italians, could but serve to add to the ranks of the malcontents; and, which was the main thing, Cethegus now held all the threads of the conspiracy in his own hands. Even the most jealous Republicans implicitly acknowledged the necessity of committing the conduct of affairs, until the day of deliverance, to the most gifted of men. The feeling against the barbarians had made such progress amongst all Italians, that Cethegus could entertain the project of striking a blow without the help of the Byzantines, as soon as ever Rome was sufficiently fortified. "For," he repeatedly told himself, "all foreign liberators are easily summoned, but with difficulty discarded." Musing thus, Cethegus reposed upon his lectus. He laid aside Cæsar's "Civil Wars," the leaves of which he had been turning over, and said to himself: "The gods must have great things in store for me; whenever I fall, it is like a cat--upon my feet and unhurt. Ah! when things go well with us, we like to share our content with others. But it is too dangerous a pleasure to put trust in another, and Silence is the only faithful goddess. And yet one is human, and would like----" Here a slave entered--the old Ostiarius Fidus--and silently handed to Cethegus a letter upon a flat golden salver. "The bearer waits," he said, and left the room. Cethegus took up the letter. But as soon as he recognised the design upon the wax seal which secured the string twisted round the tablets--the Dioscuri--he cried eagerly, "From Julius--at a happy hour!" hastily untied the string, opened the tablets, and read, his cold and pale countenance flushed with a warmth of pleasure usually wholly strange to him: "'To Cethegus the Prefect, from Julius Montanus. "'How long it is, my fatherly preceptor'--(by Jupiter! that sounds frosty)--'that I have delayed sending you the greeting which I owe you. The last time I wrote from the green banks of the Ilissos, where I sought for traces of Plato in the desolated groves of the Akademia, but found none. I know well that my letter was not cheerful. The sad philosophers, wandering in the lonely schools, surrounded by the oppressions of the Emperor, the suspicion of the priests, and the coldness of the multitude, could only arouse my compassion. My soul was gloomy; I knew not wherefore. I blamed my ingratitude to you, the most generous of all benefactors.' "He has never given me such intolerable names before," observed Cethegus. "'For two years I have travelled, accompanied by your slaves and freedmen, endowed like a King of the Syrians with your riches, through all Asia and Hellas; I have enjoyed all the beauty and wisdom of the ancients, and my heart is still unsatisfied, my life empty. Not the enthusiastic wisdom of Plato; not the gilded ivory of Phidias; not Homer and not Thucydides gave me what I wanted! At last, at last, here in Neapolis, in this blooming, God-endowed city; here I found what I had unconsciously missed and sought for everywhere. Not dead wisdom, but warm, living happiness.'--(He is in love! At last, thou coy Hippolyte! Thanks, Eros and Anteros!)--'Oh! my guardian, my father! do you know what happiness it is for the first time to call a heart that completely understands you, your own?'--(Ah, Julius!" sighed the Prefect, with a singular expression of softened sentiment, "as if I knew it not?)--'a heart to which one can freely open his whole soul? Oh! if you have ever proved it, rejoice with me! sacrifice to Jupiter, the fulfiller! For the first time I have found a friend!' "What does he say?" cried Cethegus indignantly; and starting up with a look of jealous pain, "The ungrateful boy!" "'For thou wilt understand it well, until now I had no bosom friend. You, my fatherly preceptor----'" Cethegus threw the tablets upon the tortoise-shell table, and walked hastily up and down the room. "Folly!" he then said quietly, took up the letter again, and read on: "'You, so much older, wiser, better, greater than I--you had laid such a weight of gratitude and reverence upon my young soul, that it could never unfold itself to you without reserve. I have also often heard with discouragement the biting wit with which you mocked at all warmth and softness of feeling; and a sharp expression about your proud and closely-compressed mouth has always killed such feelings in me, as the night-frost kills the first violets.'--(Well, at all events, he is sincere!)--'But now I have found a friend--frank, warm, young, and enthusiastic--and I feel a delight hitherto unknown to me. We are one in heart and soul; we wander together on sunny days and moonlight nights through the Elysian fields, and are never at a loss for winged words. But I must soon close this letter. He is a Goth'--(that too!" cried Cethegus, angrily)--"'and is named Totila.'" Cethegus let drop the hand which held the letter. He said nothing. He only shut his eyes for an instant, and then he quietly read on again: "'And is named Totila. The day after my arrival in Neapolis, as I was lounging through the Forum of Neptune, and admiring some statues under the arches of a neighbouring house which had been exposed for sale by a sculptor, there suddenly rushed at me, out of the door of this house, a grey-haired man with a woollen apron, all over white with plaster, and holding in his hand a pointed tool. He grasped my shoulder and shouted, "Pollux, my Pollux! have I found thee at last!" I thought the old fellow was mad, and said, "You mistake, old man, I am called Julius, and come from Athens." "No," cried he; "thou art named Pollux, and come from Olympus!" And before I knew what had happened, he had pushed me into the house. There I gradually found out what was the matter. It was the sculptor who had exposed the statues. In the ante-chamber stood many half-finished works, and the sculptor explained to me that for years he had been thinking of a group of the Dioscuri. For the Castor he had found a charming model in a young Goth. "But in vain," he continued, "have I prayed to Heaven for an inspiration for my Pollux. He must resemble the Castor; like him, a brother of Helena and a son of Jupiter. Complete similarity of feature and form must be there, and yet the difference must be as apparent as the resemblance; they must each be completely individual. In vain I sought in all the baths and gymnasiums of Neapolis. I could not find the Leda-twin. And now a god--Jupiter himself--has led thee to my door! It struck me like lightning when I saw thee, 'There stands my Pollux, just as he ought to look!' And I will never let thee depart living from my house until thou hast promised me thy head and thy body." I willingly promised the strange old man to come again the next day; and I did so the more gladly when I afterwards learnt that my violent friend was Xenarchus, the greatest sculptor in marble and bronze that Italia has known for a long time. The next day I went again, and found my Castor. It was Totila; and I cannot deny that the great resemblance surprised me, although Totila is older, taller, stronger, and incomparably more handsome than I. Xenarchus says that we are like a pale and a gold-coloured citron--for Totila has fairer hair and beard--and just in this manner, the master swears, were the two Dioscuri alike and unlike. So we learnt to know and love each other amongst the statues of the gods and goddesses in the studio of Xenarchus; became, in truth, Castor and Pollux, inseparable and intimate as they; and already the merry populace of Neapolis calls us by these names when we wander arm in arm through the streets. But our new-made friendship was still more quickly ripened by a threatened danger, which might easily have nipped it in the bud. One evening, as usual, we had wandered out of the Porta Nolana to seek refreshment after the heat of the day in the Baths of Tiberius. After the bath--in a mood of sportive tenderness--you will blame it--I had thrown my friend's mantle over me, and set his helmet, decorated with the swan's wings, upon my head. He entered into the joke, and, with a smile, threw my chlamys[4] around him; and, chatting peacefully, we went back through the pine grove in the gloom of approaching night to the city. All at once a man sprang upon me from a taxus-bush behind me, and I felt cold steel at my throat. But the next moment the murderer lay at my feet, Totila's sword in his breast. Only slightly wounded, I bent over the dying man, and asked him what reason he had to hate and murder me. But he stared in my face, and breathed out, "Not thee--Totila, the Goth!" and he gave a convulsive shiver and was dead. By his costume and weapons, we saw that he was an Isaurian mercenary.'" Again the hand which held the letter dropped, and Cethegus pressed the other to his forehead. "Madness of chance!" he said; "to what mightest thou not have led!" And he read to the end. '"Totila said he had many enemies at Ravenna. We reported the incident to Uliaris, the Gothic Earl at Neapolis. He caused the corpse to be examined, and instituted an inquiry--without result. But this grave event has cemented our youthful friendship and consecrated it with blood for ever. It has united us in an earnest and holy bond. The seal-ring of the Dioscuri, which you gave me at parting, was a friendly omen, and it has been pleasantly fulfilled; and when I ask myself to whom is owing all my happiness, it is to you, to you alone, who sent me to this city, where I have found all that I wanted! So may the gods requite you for it! Ah, I see that my letter speaks only of myself and this friendship--write to me speedily, I beg, and let me know how things go with you.--_Vale_." A bitter smile passed across the Prefect's expressive mouth, and he again measured the room with rapid strides. At last he stopped, supporting his chin in his hand: "How can I be so--childish--as to vex myself? It is all very natural, if very foolish. You are sick, Julius. Wait; I will write you a prescription." And with an expression of pleased malice on his face, he seated himself upon the writing-divan, took a Cnidian reed-pen, and wrote with the red ink from a cup of agate, in the shape of a lion's head, which was screwed into the lectus: "To Julius Montanus: Cethegus, Prefect of Rome. "Your touching epistle from Neapolis amused me much. It shows that you have not yet outlived the last childish ailments. When you have laid them aside you will be a man. In order to precipitate this crisis, I will prescribe the best means. You will at once seek for the trader in purple, Valerius Procillus, the oldest friend that I have in Neapolis. He is the richest merchant of the East, an inveterate enemy of the Emperor of Byzantium, and as good a republican as Cato; merely on that account he is my trusted friend. But his daughter, Valeria Procilla, is the most beautiful Roman girl of our time, and a true daughter of the ancient, the heathen world. She is only three years younger than you, and therefore ten times as wise. At the same time her father will not refuse you if you explain to him that Cethegus sues for you. But thou wilt fall deeply in love at first sight! Of this I am sure; although I tell it you beforehand, although you know that I wish it. In her arms you will forget all the friends in the world; when the sun rises, the moon pales. Besides, do you know that your Castor is one of the most dangerous enemies of the Romans? And I once knew a certain Julius who swore: 'Rome before all things!'--_Vale_." Cethegus rolled the papyrus together, tied it with a string of red bast, fastened the knot with wax, and pressed his amethyst ring, engraved with a splendid head of Jupiter, upon it. Then he touched a silver eagle which protruded from the marble wainscoting of the room; outside, upon the wall of the vestibule, a bronze thunderbolt struck upon the silver shield of a fallen Titan with a clear bell-like tone. The slave re-entered the room. "Let the messenger have a bath; give him food and wine, a gold solidus, and this letter. To-morrow at sunrise he will return to Neapolis." CHAPTER VII. Several weeks later we find the grave Prefect in a circle which seemed very ill-suited to his lofty character, or even to his age. In the singular juxtaposition of heathenism and Christianity which, during the first century succeeding Constantine's conversion, filled the life and manners of the Roman world with such harsh contrasts, the peaceful mingling of the old and the new religious festivals played a striking part. Generally the merry feasts of the ancient gods still existed, together with the great holidays of the Christian Church, though usually robbed of their original significance, of their religious kernel. The people allowed themselves to be deprived of the belief in Jupiter and Juno, of sacrifices and ceremonies, but not of the games, the festivities, the dances and banquets, by which those ceremonies had been accompanied; and the Church was at all times wise and tolerant enough to suffer what she could not prevent. Thus, even the truly heathen Lupercalia, which were distinguished by gross superstition and all kinds of rude excess, were only, and with great difficulty, abolished in the year 496. The days of the Floralia were come, which formerly were celebrated over the whole continent with noisy games and dances, as being specially a feast of happy youth; and which, in the days we speak of, were at least passed in banqueting and drinking. And so the two Licinii, with their circle of young gallants and patricians, had made an appointment to meet together for a symposium upon the principal holiday of the Floralia, to which, as at our picnics, every one contributed his share of food and wine. The guests assembled at the house of young Kallistratos, an amiable and rich Greek from Corinth, who had settled in Rome to enjoy an artistic leisure, and had built, near the gardens of Sallust, a tasteful house, which became the focus of luxury and polite society. Besides the rich Roman aristocracy, this house was particularly frequented by artists and scholars; and also by that stratum of the Roman youth, which could spare little time and thought from its horses, chariots and dogs for the State, and which until now had therefore been inaccessible to the influence of the Prefect. For this reason Cethegus was well-pleased when young Lucius Licinius, now his most devoted adherent, brought him an invitation from the Corinthian. "I know," said Licinius modestly, "that we can offer you no appropriate entertainment; and if the Falernian and Cyprian, with which Kallistratos regales his guests, do not entice you, you can decline to come." "No, my son; I will come," said Cethegus; "and it is not the old Cyprian which tempts me, but the young Romans." Kallistratos, who loved to display his Grecian origin, had built his house in the midst of Rome in Grecian style; not in the style then prevalent, but in that of the free Greece of Pericles, which, by contrast with the tasteless overcharging usual in Rome in those days, made an impression of noble simplicity. Through a narrow passage one entered the peristyle, or open court, surrounded by a colonnade, in the centre of which a splashing fountain fell into a coloured marble basin. The colonnade, open to the north, contained, besides other rooms, the banqueting hall, in which the company was now assembled. Cethegus had stipulated that he should not be present at the c[oe]na, or actual banquet, but only at the compotatio, the drinking-bout which followed. So he found the friends in the elegant drinking-room, where the bronze lamps upon the tortoise-shell slabs on the walls were already lighted, and the guests, crowned with roses and ivy, lay upon the cushions of the horse-shoe-shaped triclinium. A stupefying mixture of wine-odours and flower-scents, a glare of torches and glow of colour, met him upon the threshold. "_Salve_, Cethegus!" cried the host, as he entered. "You find but a small party." Cethegus ordered the slave who followed him, a beautiful and slender young Moor, whose finely-shaped limbs were rather revealed than hidden by the scarlet gauze of his light tunic, to unloose his sandals. Meanwhile he counted the guests. "Not less than the Graces, nor more than the Muses," he said with a smile. "Quick, choose a wreath," said Kallistratos, "and take your place up there, upon the seat of honour on the couch. We have chosen you beforehand for the king of the feast." The Prefect was determined to charm these young people. He knew how well he could do so, and that day he wished to make a particular impression. He chose a crown of roses, and took the ivory sceptre, which a Syrian slave handed to him upon his knees. Placing the rose-wreath on his head, he raised the sceptre with dignity. "Thus I put an end to your freedom!" "A born ruler!" cried Kallistratos, half in joke, half in earnest. "But I will be a gentle tyrant! My first law: one-third water--two-thirds wine." "Oho!" cried Lucius Licinius, and drank to him, "_bene te!_ you govern luxuriously. Equal parts is usually our strongest mixture." "Yes, friend," said Cethegus, smiling, and seating himself upon the corner seat of the central triclinium, the "Consul's seat," "but I took lessons in drinking amongst the Egyptians; they drink pure wine. Ho, cupbearer--what is he called?" "Ganymede--he is from Phrygia. Fine fellow--eh?" "So, Ganymede, obey thy Jupiter, and place near each guest; a patera of Mamertine wine--but near Balbus two, because he is a countryman." The young people laughed. Balbus was a rich Sicilian proprietor, still quite young, and already very stout. "Bah!" said he, laughing, "ivy round my head, and an amethyst on my finger--I defy the power of Bacchus!" "Well, at which wine have you arrived?" asked Cethegus, at the same time signing to the Moor who now stood behind him, and who at once brought a second wreath of roses, and, this time, wound it about his neck. "Must of Setinum, with honey from Hymettus, was the last. There, try it!" said Piso, the roguish poet, whose epigrams and anacreontics could not be copied quickly enough by the booksellers; and whose finances, notwithstanding, were always in poetical disorder. He handed to the Prefect what we should call a _vexing-cup_, a bronze serpent's-head, which, lifted carelessly to the lips, violently shot a stream of wine into the drinker's throat. But Cethegus knew the trick, drank carefully, and returned the cup. "I like your _dry_ wit better, Piso," he said, laughing; and snatched a wax tablet from a fold in the other's garment. "Oh, give it me back," said Piso; "it is no verses--just the contrary--a list of my debts for wine and horses." "Well," observed Cethegus, "I have taken it--so it and they are mine. To-morrow you may fetch the quittance at my house; but not for nothing--for one of your most spiteful epigrams upon my pious friend Silverius." "Oh, Cethegus!" cried the poet, delighted and flattered, "how spiteful one can be for 40,000 solidi! Woe to the holy man of God!" CHAPTER VIII. "And the dessert--how far have you got there?" asked Cethegus, "already at the apples? are these they?" and he looked, screwing up his eyes, at two heaped-up fruit-baskets, which stood upon a bronze table with ivory legs. "Ha, victory!" laughed Marcus Licinius, Lucius's younger brother, who amused himself with the then fashionable pastime of modelling in wax. "There! you see my art, Kallistratos! The Prefect thinks that my waxen apples, which I gave you yesterday, are real." "Ah, indeed!" cried Cethegus, as if astonished, although he had long since noticed the smell of the wax with dislike. "Yes, art deceives the most acute. With whom did you learn? I should like to put similar ornaments in my Kyzikenian hall." "I am an autodidact," said Marcus proudly, "and to-morrow I will send you my new Persian apples--for you honour art." "But is the sitting at an end?" asked the Prefect, resting his left arm on the cushions of the triclinium. "No," cried the host, "I will confess the truth. As I could not reckon upon the king of our feast until the dessert, I have prepared a little after-feast to be taken with the wine." "Oh, you sinner!" cried Balbus, wiping his greasy lips upon the rough purple Turkish table-cover, "and I have eaten such a terrible quantity of your _becca-ficchi_!" "It is against the agreement!" cried Marcus Licinius. "It will spoil my manners," said the merry Piso gravely. "Say, is that Hellenic simplicity?" asked Lucius Licinius. "Peace, friends!" and Cethegus comforted them with a quotation: "'E'en unexpected hurt, a Roman bears unmoved.'" "The Hellenic host must adjust himself according to his guests," said Kallistratos, excusing himself. "I feared you would not come again if I offered you Marathonian fare." "Well, at least confess with what you menace us," cried Cethegus. "Thou, Nomenclator! read the bill of fare. I will then decide upon the suitable wines." The slave--a handsome Lydian boy, dressed in a garment of blue Pelusian linen, slit up to the knee--came close to Cethegus at the cypress-wood table, and read from a little tablet which he carried fastened to a golden chain about his neck: "Fresh oysters from Britannia, in tunny-sauce, with lettuce." "With this dish, Falernian from Fundi," said Cethegus at once. "But where is the sideboard with the cups? Good wine deserves handsome goblets." "There is the sideboard!" And at a sign from the host, a curtain, which had concealed a corner of the room opposite the guests, dropped. A cry of astonishment ran round the table. The richness of the service displayed, and the taste with which it was arranged, surprised even these fastidious feasters. Upon the marble slab of a side-table stood a roomy silver carriage, with golden wheels and bronze horses. It was a model of a booty-wagon, such as were used in Roman triumphal processions, and, like a costly booty, within it was piled, in seeming disorder, but with an artistic hand, a quantity of goblets, glasses, and salvers, of every shape and material. "By Mars the Victor!" laughed the Prefect, "the first Roman triumph for two hundred years! A rare sight! Dare I destroy it?" "You are the man to set it up again," said Lucius, with fire. "Do you think so? Let us try! First, we will have that goblet of pistachio-wood for the Falernian." "Wind-thrushes from the Tagus, with asparagus from Tarento," continued the Lydian, reading the bill of fare. "With that, red Massikian from Sinuessa, to be drunk out of that amethyst goblet." "Young lobsters from Trapezunt, with flamingo-tongues." "Stop! By holy Bacchus!" cried Balbus, "it is the torture of Tantalus. It is all the same to me out of what I drink, whether from pistachio-wood or amethyst; but to listen to this list of divine dainties with a dry throat, is more than I can stand. Down with Cethegus, the tyrant! Let him die, if he lets us thirst!" "I feel as if I were Emperor, and heard the roar of the faithful Roman populace! I will save my life and yield. Serve the dishes, slaves." At this the sound of flutes was heard from an outer room, and six slaves entered, marching in time to the music, with ivy in their shining, anointed locks, and dressed in red mantles and white tunics. They gave to each guest a snowy cloth of finest Sidonian linen, with purple fringes. "Oh," cried Massurius, a young merchant who traded principally with beautiful slaves of both sexes, and enjoyed the rather doubtful reputation of being a great critic in such wares, "the best cloth is beautiful hair," and he passed his hands through the locks of a Ganymede who was kneeling near him. "But, Kallistratos, I hope those flutes are of the female sex. Up with the curtain; let the girls in." "Not yet," ordered Cethegus. "First drink, then kiss. Without Bacchus and Ceres, you know----" "Venus freezes, but not Massurius!" All at once lyres and citharas sounded from the side room, and there entered a procession of eight youths in shining silken garments of a gold-green colour. Foremost the "dresser" and the "carver." The other six bore dishes upon their heads. They passed the guests with measured steps, and halted at the sideboard of citron-wood. While they were busy there, castanets and cymbals were heard from another part of the house; the large double doors turned upon their shining bronze hinges, and a swarm of slaves in the becoming costume of Corinthian youths streamed into the room. Some handed bread in ornamentally-perforated baskets; others whisked the flies away with fans of ostrich feathers and palm-leaves; some gracefully poured oil into the wall-lamps from double-handled vases; whilst others swept the crumbs from the mosaic pavement with besoms of Egyptian reeds, or helped Ganymede to fill the cups, which now were circling merrily. The conversation grew more rapid and animated, and Cethegus, who, although he remained cool and collected, seemed to be quite lost in the enjoyment of the moment, charmed the young guests by his youthful gaiety. "What do you say?" asked the host, "shall we play dice between the dishes? There stands the dice-box, near Piso." "Well, Massurius," observed Cethegus, with a sarcastic look at the slave-dealer, "will you try your luck with me once more? Will you bet against me? Give him the dice-box, Syphax," he said to the Moor. "Mercury forbid!" answered Massurius, with comical fright. "Have nothing to do with the Prefect he has inherited the luck of his ancestor, Julius Cæsar." "Omen accipio!" laughed Cethegus. "I accept the omen, with the dagger of Brutus into the bargain." "I tell you, he is a magician! Only lately he won an unwinnable bet against me about this black demon," and the speaker threw a cactus-fig at the slave's face, but Syphax caught it cleverly with his shining white teeth, and quietly ate it up. "Well done, Syphax!" said Cethegus. "Roses from the thorns of the enemy! Thou canst become a conjurer as soon as I let thee free." "Syphax does not wish to be free: he will always be your Syphax, and save your life as you saved his." "What is that--thy life?" asked Lucius Licinius. "Did you pardon him?" asked Marcus. "More than that, I bought him off." "Yes, with my money!" grumbled Massurius. "You know that I immediately gave him the money I won from you as his private possession," answered Cethegus. "What about this bet? Let us hear. Perhaps it will afford a subject for my epigrams," said Piso. "Retire, Syphax. There! the cook is bringing us his masterpiece, it seems." CHAPTER IX. It was a turbot weighing six pounds, which for years had been fed with goose-liver in the sea-water fishponds of Kallistratos. The much-prized "Rhombus" was served upon a silver dish, with a little golden crown on its head. "All ye gods, and thou, Prophet Jonah!" stammered Balbus, sinking back upon the cushions, "that fish is worth more than I!" "Peace, friend," said Piso, "let not Cato hear thee, who said, 'Woe to that city where a fish is worth more than an ox.'" A burst of laughter, and the loud call of "_Euge belle!_" drowned the angry exclamation of the half-drunken Sicilian. The fish was carved, and was found delicious. "Now, slaves, away with the weak Massikian. A noble fish must swim in noble liquid. Quick, Syphax, the wine which I have contributed to the banquet will suit exactly. Go, and let the amphora, which the slaves have set in snow outside, be brought in, and with it the cups of yellow amber." "What rare thing have you brought--from what country?" asked Kallistratos. "Ask this far-travelled Odysseus, from what hemisphere," said Piso. "You must guess. And whoever guesses right, or whoever has already tasted this wine, shall have an amphora from me as large as this." Two slaves, crowned with ivy, dragged in the immense dark-coloured vase; it was of brown-black porphyry and of a singular shape, inscribed with hieroglyphics and well closed at the neck with plaster. "By the Styx! does it come from Tartarus? It is indeed a black fellow!" said Marcus, laughing. "But it has a white soul--show, Syphax." The Nubian carefully knocked off the plaster with an ebony hammer which Ganymede handed to him, took out the stopper of palm-rind with a bronze hook, poured away the oil which swam at the top of the wine, and filled the cups. A strong and intoxicating odour arose from the white and sticky fluid. Every one drank with an air of examination. "A drink fit for the gods!" cried Balbus, setting down his cup. "But as strong as liquid fire," said Kallistratos. "I do not know it," said Lucius Licinius. "Nor I," affirmed Marcus Licinius. "And I am happy to make its acquaintance," said Piso, and held his empty cup to Syphax. "Well," said the host, turning to an, until now, almost silent guest at his right hand, "well, Furius, valiant sailor, discoverer and adventurer! you who have sailed round the world, is _your_ wisdom also at fault?" The guest slightly raised himself from the cushions. He was a handsome athletic man of about thirty years of age, with a bronzed weather-beaten complexion, coal-black, deep-set eyes, dazzling white teeth, and a full beard, trimmed in Oriental fashion. But before he could speak Kallistratos interposed: "By Jupiter Xenios! I believe you do not know each other!" Cethegus measured his unknown and attractive companion with a keen look. "I know the Prefect of Rome," said the silent guest. "Well, Cethegus," said Kallistratos, "this is my Vulcanic friend, Furius Ahalla, from Corsica, the richest ship-owner of the West; deep as night and hot as fire. He possesses fifty houses, villas and palaces on all the coasts of Europe, Asia, and Africa; twenty galleys; a few thousand slaves and sailors, and----" "And a very talkative friend," concluded the Corsican. "Prefect, I am sorry for you, but the amphora is mine. I know the wine." And he took a Kibitz-egg and broke the shell with a silver spoon. "Hardly," said Cethegus with a sarcastic smile. "Nevertheless I do know it. It is Isis-wine. From Memphis." And the Corsican quietly sipped the golden yolk of his egg. Cethegus looked at him in surprise. "Well guessed!" he then said. "Where have you tasted it?" "Necessarily in the same place as you. It flows only from one source," said the Corsican, smiling. "Enough of your secrets! No riddles under the rose!" cried Piso. "Where have you two weasels found the same nest?" asked Kallistratos. "Indeed," said Cethegus, "you may as well know it. In Old Egypt, and particularly in holy Memphis, there remain near the Christian settlers and monks in the deserts, men, and especially women, who still cling to their old faith; who will not forsake Apis and Osiris, and cherish faithfully the sweet worship of Isis. They fly from the surface, where the Church has victoriously planted the cross of the ascetics, to the secret bosom of Mother Earth with their holy and beloved religious ceremonies. They still keep, hidden below the pyramids of Cheops, a few hundred amphoras of the strong wine which intoxicated the initiated at the orgies of joy and love. The secret is kept from generation to generation, there is always only one priestess who knows the cellar and keeps the key. I kissed the priestess and she let me in. She was like a wild cat, but her wine was good; and at parting she gave me five amphoras to take on board my ship." "I did not get as far as that with Smerda," said the Corsican. "She let me drink in the cellar, but at parting she only gave me this." And he bared his brown throat. "A dagger-stab of jealousy!" laughed Cethegus. "Well, I am glad that the daughter has not degenerated. In my time, that is, when the mother let me drink, the little Smerda still ran about in baby-frocks. Long live the Nile and sweet Isis!" And the two men drank to each other. But yet they were vexed that they shared a secret which each believed he had possessed alone. The others, however, were charmed by the amiable humour of the icy Prefect, who chatted with them as youthfully as the youngest amongst them, and who now, when the favourite theme of young men at the wine-cup had been introduced--love adventures and stories of lovely women--bubbled over with anecdotes of jests and tricks, of most of which he had himself been witness. Every one stormed him with questions. The Corsican alone remained dumb and cold. "Say," cried the host, and signed to the cup-bearer just as a burst of mirth caused by one of these stories had ceased; "tell us, you man of varied experience--Egyptian Isis-girls, Gallic Druidesses, black-haired daughters of Syria, and my plastic sisters of Hellas--all these you know and understand how to value; but tell us, have you ever loved a Germanic woman?" "No," said Cethegus, "they were always too insipid for me." "Oho!" said Kallistratos; "that is saying too much. I tell you, I was mad all the last calendars for a German girl; she was not at all insipid." "What? you, Kallistratos of Corinth, the countryman of Aspasia and Helena, you could burn for a barbarian woman? Oh, wicked Eros, sense-confuser, man-shamer!" "Well, I acknowledge it was an error of the senses. I have never before experienced such." "Relate, relate!" cried all the others. CHAPTER X. "With pleasure," said the host, smoothing his cushions; "although I play no brilliant part in the story. Well, some time ago I was returning home from the baths of Abaskanthus at about the eighth hour. In the street I found a woman's litter, accompanied by four slaves, who, I believe, were captive Gepidians. And exactly opposite the door of my house stood two veiled women, their calanticas thrown over their heads. One wore the garment of a slave, but the other was very richly and tastefully dressed; and the little that could be seen of her figure was divine. Such a graceful walk, such slender ankles, such an arched instep! As I approached they entered the litter and were gone. But I--you know that a sculptor's blood flows in the veins of every Greek--I dreamt all night of the slender ankles and the light step. The next day at noon, as I opened the door to go, as usual, to the bibliographers in the Forum, I saw the same litter hurrying away. I confess--though I am not usually vain--I thought that this time I had made a conquest; I wished it so much. And I could no longer doubt it, when, coming home again at the eighth hour, I saw my strange beauty, this time unaccompanied, slip past me and hurry to her litter. I could not follow the quick-footed slaves, so I entered my house, full of happy thoughts. The ostiarius met me and said: "'Sir, a veiled female slave waits in the library.' "I hurried to the room with a beating heart. It was really the slave whom I had seen yesterday. She threw back her mantle; a handsome coquettish Moor or Carthaginian--I know the sort--looked at me with sly eyes. "'I claim the reward of a messenger, Kallistratos,' she said; 'I bring you good news.' "I took her hand and would have patted her cheek--for who desires to win the mistress must kiss the slave--but she laughed and said: "'No, not Eros; Hermes sends me. My mistress'--I listened eagerly. 'My mistress is--a passionate lover of art. She offers you three thousand solidi for the bust of Ares which stands in the niche at the door of your house.'" The young guests laughed loudly, Cethegus joining in their merriment. "Well, laugh away!" continued the host, smiling; "but I assure you I did not laugh. My dreams were dashed to pieces, and I said, greatly vexed, 'I do not sell my busts.' The slave offered five thousand, ten thousand solidi. I turned my back upon her and opened the door. Then the sly puss said, 'I know that Kallistratos is indignant because he expected an adventure, and only found a money-affair. He is a Greek, and loves beauty; he burns with curiosity to see my mistress.' This was so true, that I could only smile. 'Well,' she said, 'you shall see her, and then I will renew my last offer. Should you still refuse, at least you will have had the advantage of satisfying your curiosity. To-morrow, at the eighth hour, the litter will come again. Then be ready with your Ares.' And she slipped away. I cannot deny that my curiosity was aroused. Quite decided not to give up my Ares, and yet to see this beauteous art-enthusiast, I waited impatiently for the appointed hour. It came, and with it the litter. I stood watching at my open door. The slave descended. 'Come,' she called to me, 'you shall see her.' Trembling with excitement, I stepped forward, the curtain fell, and I saw----" "Well?" cried Marcus, bending forward, his cup in his hand. "What I shall never again forget! a face, friends, of unimagined beauty. Cypris and Artemis in one! I was dazzled. But I hurried back, lifted the Ares from its niche, gave it to the Punic slave, refused her money, and staggered into my house as confused as if I had seen a wood-nymph." "Well, that is wonderful," laughed Massurius; "you are else no novice in the works of Eros." "But," asked Cethegus, "how do you know that your charmer was a Goth?" "She had dark-red hair, and a milk-white skin, and black eyebrows." "Oh, ye gods!" thought Cethegus. But he was silent and waited. No one present uttered the name. "They do not know her.--And when was this?" he asked his host. "During the last calendars." "Quite right," thought Cethegus. "She came at that time from Tarentum through Rome to Ravenna. She rested here for three days." "And so," said Piso, laughing, "you gave your Ares for a look at a beautiful woman! A bad bargain! This time, Mercury and Venus were allies. Poor Kallistratos!" "Oh," said Kallistratos, "the bust was not worth so very much. It was modern work. Ion of Neapolis made it three years, ago. But I tell you, I would give a Phidias for such a look." "An ideal head?" asked Cethegus indifferently, and lifted admiringly the bronze mixing-vase which stood before him. "No; the model was a barbarian--some Gothic earl or other--Watichis or Witichas--who can remember these hyperborean names," said Kalistratos, as he peeled a peach. Cethegus reflectively sipped his wine from the cup of amber. CHAPTER XI. "Well, one might put up with the barbarian women," cried Marcus Licinius, "but may Orcus devour their brothers!" and he tore the faded rose-wreath from his head--the flowers could ill bear the close air of the room--and replaced it by a fresh one. "Not only have they deprived us of liberty--they even beat us upon the field of love, with the daughters of Hesperia. Only lately, the beautiful Lavinia shut the door upon my brother, and received the foxy-haired Aligern." "Barbaric taste!" observed Lucius, shrugging his shoulders, and taking to his Isis-wine, as if to comfort himself. "You know the Goths too, Furius; is it not an error of taste?" "I do not know your rival," answered the Corsican; "but there are youths enough among the Goths who might well be dangerous to a woman. And an adventure occurs to me, which I lately discovered, but of which, certainly, the point is still wanting." "That does not matter; tell it to us," said Kallistratos, putting his hands into the luke-warm water, which was now handed round in Corinthian bronze vessels; "perhaps we can find the point." "The hero of my story," began Furius, "is the handsomest of all the Goths." "Ah, the young Totila," interrupted Piso, and gave his cameo-decorated cup to be filled with iced wine. "The same. I have known him for years, and like him exceedingly, as all must who have ever looked into his sunny face; not to speak of the fact"--and here the shadow of some grave remembrance flitted across the Corsican's face, as he hesitated--"that I am under an obligation to him." "It seems that you are in love with the fair-haired youth," said Massurius sarcastically, and throwing to the slave he had brought with him a kerchief full of Picentinian biscuits, to take home with him. "No; but he has been very friendly to me, as he is to every one with whom he comes into contact; and very often he had the harbour-watch in the Italian ports where I landed." "Yes, he has rendered great services to the Gothic navy," said Lucius Licinius. "As well as to their cavalry," concurred Marcus. "The slender youth is the best rider in his nation." "Well, I met him last in Neapolis. We were well-pleased to meet, but it was in vain that I pressed him to share our merry suppers on board my ship." "Oh, those suppers are both celebrated and ill-famed," observed Balbus; "you have always the most fiery wines." "And the most fiery girls," added Massurius. "However that may be, Totila always pleaded business, and was not to be persuaded. Imagine that! business after the eighth hour in Neapolis, when the most industrious are lazy! Naturally, it was only an excuse. I promised myself to find out his pranks, and, at evening, loitered near his house in the Via Lata. And truly, the very first evening he came out, looking carefully about him, and, to my surprise, in disguise. He was dressed like a gardener, with a travelling-cap well drawn down over his face, and a cloak folded closely about him. I dogged his footsteps. He went straight through the town to the Porta Capuana. Close to the gate stands a large tower, inhabited by the gate-keeper, an old patriarchal Jew, whom King Theodoric, on account of his great fidelity, entrusted with the office of warder. My Goth stood still before the house, and gently clapped his hands. A little side-door, which I had not remarked before, opened noiselessly, and Totila slipped in like an eel." "Ho, ho!" interrupted Piso eagerly, "I know both the Jew and his child Miriam--a splendid large-eyed girl! The most beautiful daughter of Israel, the pearl of the East! Her lips are red as pomegranates, her eyes are deep sea-blue, her cheeks have the rosy bloom of the peach." "Well done, Piso," said Cethegus, smiling; "your poem is very beautiful." "No," he answered, "Miriam herself is living poetry." "The Jewess is proud," grumbled Massurius, "she scorned my gold with a look as if no one had ever bought a woman before." "So the haughty Goth," said Lucius Licinius, "who walks with an air as if he earned all heaven's stars upon his curly head, has condescended to a Jewess." "So I thought, and I determined, at the next opportunity, to laugh at the youth for his predilection for musk. But nothing of the sort! A few days later, I was obliged to go to Capua. I started before daybreak to avoid the heat. I drove out of the town through the Porta Capuana, just as it was dawning, and as I rattled over the hard stones before the Jews' tower, I thought with envy of Totila, and said to myself that he was then lying in the embrace of two white arms. But at the second milestone from the gate, walking towards the town, with two empty flower-baskets hanging over his breast and back, dressed in a gardener's costume, just as before, whom should I meet but Totila! Therefore he was not lying in Miriam's arms; the Jewess was not his sweetheart, but perhaps his confidante; and who knows where the flower that this gardener cherishes blooms? The lucky fellow! Only consider that on the Via Capuana stand all the villas and pleasure-houses of the first families of Neapolis, and that in these gardens flourish and bloom the loveliest of women." "By my genius!" cried Lucius Licinius, lifting his wreathed goblet, "in that region live the most beautiful women of Italia--cursed be the Goths!" "No," shouted Massurius, glowing with wine, "cursed be Kallistratos and the Corsican! who offer us strange love-stories, as the stork offered the fox food from narrow-necked flasks. Now, O mine host, let your girls in, if you have ordered any. You need not excite our expectation any further." "Yes, yes! the girls! the dancers! the players!" cried the young guests all together. "Hold!" said the host. "When Aphrodite comes, she must tread upon flowers. This glass I dedicate to thee, Flora!" He sprang up, and dashed a costly crystal cup against the tabled ceiling, so that it broke with a loud ring. As soon as the glass struck the ceiling, the whole of it opened like a trap-door, and a thick rain of flowers of all kinds fell upon the heads of the astonished guests; roses from Pæstum, violets from Thurii, myrtles from Tarentum; covering with scented bunches the tesselated floor, the tables, the cushions, and the heads of the drinkers. "Never," cried Cethegus, "did Venus descend more beautifully upon Paphos!" Kallistratos clapped his hands. To the sound of lyre and flute the centre wall of the room, directly opposite the triclinium, parted; four short-robed female dancers, chosen for their beauty, in Persian costume, that is, dressed in transparent rose-coloured gauze, sprang, clashing their cymbals, from behind a bush of blooming oleander. Behind them came a large carriage in the form of a fan-shaped shell, with golden wheels, pushed by eight young female slaves. Four girls, playing on the flute, and dressed in Lydian garments--purple and white with gold-embroidered mantles--walked before, and upon the seat of the carriage rested, in a half-lying position, and covered with roses, Aphrodite herself; a blooming girl of enchanting, voluptuous beauty, whose almost only garment was an imitation of Aphrodite's girdle of the Graces. "Ha, by Eros and Anteros!" cried Massurius, and sprang down from the triclinium with an unsteady step amidst the group. "Let us draw lots for the girls," said Piso; "I have new dice made from the bones of the gazelle. Let us inaugurate them." "Let our festal King decide," proposed Marcus. "No, freedom! freedom at least in love!" cried Massurius, and roughly caught the goddess by the arm; "and music. Hey there! Music!" "Music!" ordered Kallistratos. But before the cymbal-players could begin, the entrance-doors were hastily thrown open, and pushing the slaves who tried to stop him aside, Scævola rushed in. He was deadly pale. "You here! I really find you here, Cethegus! at this moment!" he cried. "What's the matter?" asked the Prefect, quietly taking the wreath of roses off his head. "What's the matter!" repeated Scævola. "The fatherland trembles between Scylla and Charybdis! The Gothic Dukes, Thulun, Ibba, and Pitza----" "Well?" asked Lucius Licinius. "Are murdered!" "Triumph!" shouted the young Roman, and let loose the dancer whom he held in his arms. "A fine triumph!" said the jurist angrily. "When the news reached Ravenna, the mob accused the Queen; they stormed the palace--but Amalaswintha had escaped." "Whither?" asked Cethegus, starting up. "Whither! Upon a Grecian ship--to Byzantium." Cethegus frowned and silently set down his cup. "But the worst is that the Goths mean to dethrone her, and choose a King." "A King?" said Cethegus. "Well, I will call the Senate together. The Romans, too, shall choose." "Whom? what shall we choose?" asked Scævola. But Cethegus was not obliged to answer. Before he could speak Lucius shouted: "A Dictator! Away, away to the Senate!" "To the Senate!" repeated Cethegus majestically. "Syphax, my mantle!" "Here, master, and the sword as well," whispered the Moor. "I always bring it with me, in case of need." And host and guests, staggering, followed Cethegus, who, the only completely sober man amongst them, was the first out of the house and into the street. CHAPTER XII. In one of the small rooms of the Emperor's palace in Byzantium, a short time after the Feast of the Floralia, a little man of insignificant appearance was pacing to and fro, lost in anxious thought. The room was quiet and lonely. Although outside it was broad daylight, the bay-window, which looked into the court of the extensive edifice, was thickly hung with heavy curtains of gold-brocade. Equally costly stuffs covered the mosaic floor, so that no noise accompanied the footsteps of the solitary inmate. A softened light filled the room. Relieved against the golden background of the walls, stood a row of small white busts of the Christian Emperors since Constantine. Exactly over a writing divan, hung a large cross of massive gold. Whenever the little man passed this, he bent before it; for in the middle of the gold, and covered with glass, a splinter of wood was enclosed, said to be a piece of the true Cross. At last he stopped before a map, which, representing the _orbis Romanus_, and traced upon a parchment with a purple border, covered one of the walls. After a long and searching look, he sighed and covered his eyes with his hands. They were not beautiful, nor was his face noble; but his features were exceedingly suggestive both of good and evil. Mistrust, cunning and vigilance lay in the restless glance of his deep-set eyes; deep wrinkles, more the result of care than of age, furrowed his projecting forehead and hollow cheeks. "Who can foresee the result?" he exclaimed, sighing again, and rubbing his long and bony hands. "I am unceasingly impelled to do it. A spirit has entered my bosom, and it warns me repeatedly. But is it an angel of the Lord or a demon? Who can interpret my dream? Forgive, Thou Triune God, forgive Thy most zealous servant! Thou hast cursed him who interprets dreams. And yet Joseph interpreted the dreams of King Pharaoh, and Jacob saw the heavens open; and their dreams were from Thee. Shall I, dare I venture?" Again he walked to and fro; and who knows how long he would have continued to do so, had not the purple curtains of the doorway been gently drawn aside. A slave, glittering with gold, threw himself on the ground before the little man, with his arms crossed on his breast. "Emperor, the patricians whom you summoned have arrived. "Patience!" said the Emperor to himself, and seated himself upon a couch, of which the supports were made of gold and ivory. "Quick with the shoes and the chlamys!" The slave drew a pair of sandals with thick soles and high heels upon the Emperor's feet, which added some inches to his height, and threw over his shoulders a rich mantle worked all over with stars of gold, kissing each article as he touched it. After a repetition of the humble prostration, which had lately been introduced at Byzantium in this aggravated form of Oriental submission, the slave withdrew. Emperor Justinian placed himself opposite the entrance in the attitude in which he was accustomed to give audience, resting his left arm upon a broken porphyry column from the Temple of Jerusalem. The curtain at the entrance was again parted, and three men entered, with the same salutation as the slave; and yet they were the first men of the empire, as was shown by their characteristic heads and intellectual features, still more than by their richly-decorated garments. "We have summoned you," began the Emperor, without noticing their humble greeting, "to hear your advice concerning Italy. You have had all necessary information--the letters of the Queen-regent, and the documents of the patriotic party. You have also had three days to reflect. Speak first, Magister Militum." And he turned to the tallest of the three, a man of stately and heroic figure, clad in a full suit of richly-gilded armour. His well-opened, light-brown eyes were frank and confident; his large, straight nose and full cheeks gave his face an expression of health and strength. There was something Herculean about his broad chest and powerful thighs and arms; but his mouth, in spite of the fierce beard, was mild and good-humoured. "Sire," he said, in a full, deep-chested voice, "the advice of Belisarius is always, 'Attack the enemy!' At your command, I lately destroyed the Kingdom of the Vandals, in Africa, with fifteen thousand men. Give me thirty thousand, and I will lay the Gothic crown at your feet." "'Tis well," said the Emperor approvingly. "Your words have done me good. What say you, Tribonianus, pearl of jurists?" The jurist was little shorter than Belisarius, but not so broad-shouldered and stout-limbed. His high, grave forehead, quiet eyes, and expressive mouth, bore witness to a powerful mind. "Emperor," said he firmly, "I warn you against this war. It is unjust." Justinian started up indignantly. "Unjust!--to recover that which belongs to the Roman Empire!" "Which _did_ belong. Your predecessor, Zeno, ceded the West to Theodoric and his Goths when they had overthrown the usurper Odoacer." "Theodoric was to be the Viceregent of the Emperor, not the King of Italy." "Admitted. But after he had become King--as he could not fail to do, for a Theodoric could never be the servant of another--the Emperor Anastasius, your uncle Justinus, and, later, you yourself, acknowledged him and his kingdom." "That was under the pressure of necessity. Now that they are in need, and I the stronger, I revoke that acknowledgment." "That is exactly what I call unjust." "You are blunt and disagreeable, Tribonianus, and a tough disputant. You are excellently fitted to compile my pandects. I will never again ask your advice in politics. What has justice to do with politics?" "Justice, Justinianus, is the best policy." "Bah! Alexander and Cæsar thought differently." "But, first, they never completed their work; and, secondly----" He stopped. "Well, secondly?" "Secondly, you are not Cæsar, nor are you Alexander." All were silent. After a pause, the Emperor said quietly: "You are very frank, Tribonianus." "Always, Justinianus." The Emperor quickly turned to the third of his advisers: "Well, what is your opinion, Narses?" CHAPTER XIII. Narses was a stunted little man, considerably shorter than Justinian, for which reason the latter stooped, when speaking with him, much more than was necessary. He was bald, his complexion a sickly yellow, his right shoulder higher than his left, and he limped a little on the left foot, supporting himself upon a stick with a golden crutch. But his eagle eye was so commanding, that it annulled any disagreeable impression made by his insignificant figure, and lent to his plain countenance the consecration of intellectual greatness, while the expression of painful resignation and cool superiority about his mouth had even a singular charm. When addressed by the Emperor, Narses quickly banished from his lips a cold smile, which had been excited by the jurist's moral politics, and raised his head. "Emperor," he said, in a sharp, decided voice, "I would dissuade you from this war--for the present." The Emperor bit his lips in vexation. "Also from reasons of justice?" he asked, almost sarcastically. "I said: for the present." "Why?" "Because what is necessary precedes what is pleasant. He who has to defend his own house should not break into strange dwellings." "What does that mean?" "It means, that no danger threatens your empire from the West, from the Goths. The enemy who can, and perhaps will, destroy it, comes from the East." "The Persians!" cried Justinian contemptuously. "Since when," interposed Belisarius, "since when does Narses, my great rival, fear the Persians?" "Narses fears no one," answered the latter, without looking at his interrogator, "neither the Persians whom he has beaten, nor you whom the Persians have beaten. But he knows the Orient. If not the Persians, then it will be others who follow them. The tempest which threatens Byzantium approaches from the Tigris, not from the Tiber." "Well, and what does that mean?" "It means, that it is a shameful thing for you, O Emperor, and for the Roman name which we still bear, that you should, year by year, buy peace from Chosroes, the Persian Khan, at the cost of many hundredweights of gold." The Emperor's face flushed scarlet. "How can you put such a meaning upon gifts, subsidies?" "Gifts! If they are not forthcoming but a week after the day of payment, Chosroes, the son of Cabades, burns your villages! Subsidies! With them he pays Huns and Saracens, the most dangerous enemies of your frontiers!" Justinian walked rapidly through the room. "What do you then advise?" he said at last, stopping short before Narses. "Not to attack the Goths without necessity or reason, when we can scarcely defend ourselves from the Persians. To put forth the whole power of your empire in order to abolish this shameful tribute; to prevent the depredations on your frontiers; to rebuild the burnt towns of Antiochia, Dara, and Edessa; to win back the provinces which you lost, in spite of the valiant sword of Belisarius; and to protect your frontiers by a seven-fold girdle of fortresses from the Euphrates to the Araxes. And when you have completed this necessary work--and I fear much you cannot complete it--then you may follow where Fame leads." Justinianus slightly shook his head. "You are displeasing to me, Narses," he said bitterly. "I knew that long ago," Narses answered quietly. "And not indispensable," cried Belisarius proudly. "Do not listen, my great Emperor, to this small doubter. Give me the thirty thousand, and I wager my right hand that I will conquer Italy for you." "And I wager my head, which is more," said Narses, "that Belisarius will conquer Italy neither with thirty, nor with sixty, nor with a hundred thousand men.", "Well," asked Justinianus, "and who can do it, and with what forces?" "I," said Narses, "with eighty thousand." Belisarius grew red with anger; he was silent for want of words. "You have never yet, with all your self-esteem, Narses," said the jurist, "vaunted yourself thus highly above your rival." "I do not now, Tribonianus. See, the difference is this: Belisarius is a great hero, and I am not; but I am a great general, and Belisarius is not, and none but a great general can conquer the Goths." Belisarius drew himself up to his full height, and angrily grasped his sword. He looked as if he would have gladly crushed the cripple near him. The Emperor defended him. "Belisarius no great general! Envy blinds you, Narses." "I envy Belisarius nothing, not even," answered Narses, slightly sighing, "his health. He would h& a great general if he were not so great a hero. Every battle which he has lost, he has lost through too great heroism." "That can not be said of you, Narses," retorted Belisarius. "No, Belisarius, for I have never yet lost a battle." An angry retort from Belisarius was cut short by the entrance of a slave, who, lifting the curtain, announced: "Alexandros, sire, who was sent to Ravenna, has landed an hour ago, and asks----" "Bring him in! Here!" cried the Emperor, hastily starting from his seat. He impatiently signed to the ambassador, who entered at once, to rise from his obeisance. "Well, Alexandros, you came back alone?" The ambassador--a handsome and still young man--repeated: "Alone." "But your last report said--In what condition have you left the Gothic kingdom?" "In great confusion. I wrote in my last report that the Queen had decided to rid herself of her three most haughty enemies. Should the attempt fail, she would be no longer safe in Italy, and she begged to be allowed, in that case, to go in my ship to Epidamnus, and from thence to escape to Byzantium." "And I accepted the proposal readily. Well, and the attempt?" "Succeeded. The three dukes are no more. But the rumour had reached Ravenna that the most dangerous of them, Duke Thulun, was only wounded. This induced the Queen--as, besides, the Goths threateningly surrounded the palace--to escape to my ship. We weighed anchor, but soon after we had left the harbour, off Ariminum, Earl Witichis overtook us with superior numbers, boarded us, and demanded that Amalaswintha should return, guaranteeing her safety until a solemn examination had taken place before the National Assembly. When she learnt from him that Duke Thulun had succumbed to his wounds, and saw from the proposal of Witichis that he and his powerful friends did not yet believe in her guilt, and as, besides, she apprehended compulsion, she consented to return with him to Ravenna. But first, on board the _Sophia_, she wrote this letter to you, and sends you this present from her treasury." "Of that later. Tell me further, how do things, stand now in Italy?" "Well for you, O great Emperor! An exaggerated account of the rebellion of the Goths at Ravenna and of the flight of the Queen to Byzantium, has flown through the whole country. Already many encounters have taken place between Romans and barbarians. In Rome itself the patriots wished to strike a blow at once; to choose a Dictator in the Senate, and call for your assistance. But this step would have been premature, for the Queen was in the hands of the Goths, and only the firmness of the clever man who heads the conspiracy of the Catacombs prevented it." "The Prefect of Rome?" asked Justinian. "Cethegus. He mistrusted the reports. The conspirators wished to surprise the Goths, proclaim you Emperor of the West, and choose him, meanwhile, for Dictator. But he literally allowed them to put the dagger to his throat in the Curia, and said, No." "A courageous man!" said Belisarius. "A dangerous man!" said Narses. "An hour after," continued the ambassador, "news, arrived of Amalaswintha's return, and things remained as they were. That gloomy warrior, Teja, had sworn to render Rome a pasture for cattle, if a drop of Gothic blood were shed. I learned all this on my intentionally slow coast voyage to Brundusium. But I have something still better to announce. I have found zealous friends of Byzantium, not only among the Romans, but also among the Goths, and even in the members of the Royal Family." "Whom mean you?" "In Tuscany there lives a rich proprietor, Prince Theodahad, the cousin of Amalaswintha." "To be sure! he is the last male of the Amelung family, is he not?" "The last. He and, still more, Gothelindis, his clever but wicked wife, the proud daughter of the Balthe, mortally hate the Queen. He, because she opposed the measureless avarice with which he sought to appropriate the property of all his neighbours; she, from reasons which I could not discover, but which, I believe, originated during the girlhood of the two Princesses; enough, her hate is deadly. Now, these two have promised me to help you in every possible way to win Italy back. She will be satisfied, it seems, with the destruction of the object of her hatred; he, however, demands a rich reward." "He shall have it." "His support is important, for he already possesses half Tuscany--the noble family of the Wölfungs owns the other half--and can easily bring it into our power; and also because he expects, if Amalaswintha falls, to seat himself upon her throne. Here are letters from him and Gothelindis. But, first of all, read the writing from the Queen---- I believe it is very important." CHAPTER XIV. The Emperor opened the tablets, and read: "To Justinian, Emperor of the Romans, Amalaswintha, Queen of the Goths and the Italians." "Queen of the Italians!" laughed Justinian; "what an insane title!" "From Alexandros you will learn how Eris and Ate haunt this land. I am like a lonely palm-tree which is tossed by opposing winds. Each day increases the barbarians' enmity to me, and daily I become more estranged from them; and the Romans, however much I try to conciliate them, can never forget that I am of Germanic origin. Till now I have defied all danger with a firm spirit; but I can do so no longer, if my palace and my person are not in security. I cannot rely upon any party in this country. Therefore I appeal to you, as my royal brother. It is the dignity of all rulers, and the peace of Italy, which you will protect. Send me, I beseech you, a trustworthy troop, a life-guard"--the Emperor cast a significant look at Belisarius--"a troop of some thousand men, with a leader who will be unconditionally devoted to me. They shall occupy the palace; it is a fortress in itself. As to Rome, these troops must, above all things, keep from me the Prefect Cethegus, who is as full of duplicity as he is powerful, and who deserted me in the danger into which he himself had led me. If necessary, they must ruin him. When I have overthrown my enemies, and secured my kingdom, as I trust in Heaven and my own strength that I shall, I will send back troops and leader richly laden with gifts, and still more with warm thanks.--_Vale_." Justinian clasped the wax-tablets tightly in his hand; his eyes shone; his plain features were ennobled by an expression of high intellectual power; and the present moment showed, that together with many weaknesses and littlenesses, he possessed strength and greatness: the greatness of diplomatic genius. "In this letter," he cried at last, with sparkling eyes, "I hold Italy and the Gothic kingdom!" And, much agitated, he paced the room with long strides, even forgetting to bow before the Cross. "A life-guard! that she shall have! But not a few thousand men; many thousands--more than she will like; and you, Belisarias, shall lead them." "Deign to look at the presents," said Alexandros, pointing to a costly shrine of cypress-wood, inlaid with gold, which a slave had set down behind him. "Here is the key." And he held out a little box of tortoise-shell, which was closed with the Queen's seal. "Her picture is there too," he said, raising his voice as if by accident. At the moment in which Alexandros raised his voice, the head of a woman was protruded gently and unnoticed through the curtain, and two sparkling black eyes looked keenly at the Emperor. Justinian opened the shrine, quickly pushed aside its costly contents, and hastily caught up a simple tablet of polished box-wood, with a small golden frame. A cry of astonishment involuntarily burst from his lips, his eyes sparkled, and he showed the picture to Belisarius. "A splendid woman! What majesty on her brow! One sees that she is a born ruler--a king's daughter!" and he gazed admiringly at the noble features. The curtain rustled, and the listener entered. It was Theodora, the Empress. A seductive apparition. All the arts of woman's inventive genius in a time of refined luxury, and all the means of an empire, were daily called into requisition, in order to keep the beauty of this woman--who had impaired it only too much by a life of unbridled sensuality--fresh and dazzling. Gold-dust gave to her blue-black hair a metallic brilliancy; it was carefully combed up from the nape of her neck, in order to show the beautiful shape of her head, and its fine set upon her shoulders. Her eyebrows and eye-lashes were dyed black with Arabian antimony; and so carefully was the red of her lips put on, that even Justinian, who kissed those lips, never suspected an aid to Nature by means of Ph[oe]nician scarlet. Every tiny hair on her alabaster arm had been carefully destroyed: and the delicate rose-colour of her finger-nails was the daily care of a specially-appointed slave. And yet, without all these arts, Theodora, who was not yet forty years of age, would have passed for an extremely lovely woman. Her countenance was certainly not noble; no noble, or even proud spirit, spoke from her fatigued and weirdly shining eyes; round her lips played an habitual smile, the dimples of which indicated the place of the first future wrinkle; and her cheeks, beneath the eyes, showed traces of exhaustion. But as she now gracefully moved towards the Emperor, delicately holding up the heavy folds of her dark-yellow silk robes with her left hand, her whole appearance produced a bewitching charm, similar to the sweet and soothing scent of Indian balsam which she shed around her. "What pleases my imperial lord so much? May I share his delight?" she asked in a sweet and flattering voice. Those present prostrated themselves before the Empress, scarcely less humbly than before the Emperor. Justinian started upon seeing her, as if he had been caught in some culpable act, and tried to conceal the portrait in the folds of his chlamys. But it was too late. The Empress had already fixed her quick eyes upon it. "We are admiring," said the Emperor, "the--the fine chasing of the gold frame." And, blushing, he gave her the portrait. "Well," said Theodora, smiling, "there is not much to admire in the frame. But the picture is not bad. It is surely the Gothic Queen?" The ambassador bowed assent. "Not bad, as I said before; but barbaric, severe, unwomanly. How old may she be, Alexandros?" "About forty-five." Justinian looked at the picture and then at the ambassador. "The picture was taken fifteen years ago," said Alexandros, as if in. explanation. "No," said the Emperor, "you mistake; here stands the date, according to the indiction[5] and the consul, and the date of her accession; it is of this year." An awkward pause ensued. "Well," stammered Alexandros, "then the artists flatter like----" "Like courtiers," concluded the Emperor. But Theodora came to the ambassador's aid. "Why do we chatter about portraits and the age of strange women, when we should think only of the empire? What news brings Alexandras? Are you decided, Justinianus?" "Almost. I only wished to hear your opinion, and, I know, you are in favour of war." Narses quietly interposed. "Wherefore, sire, did you not at once tell us that the Empress was in favour of war? We could have spared our words." "What! would you insinuate that I am the slave of my wife?" "Guard your tongue better," said Theodora angrily. "Many who seemed invulnerable, have been stung by their own sharp tongues." "You are very imprudent, Narses," said Justinian. "Emperor," he answered, "I have long since ceased to be prudent. We live in a time, in a realm, and at a court, where, for any word that we speak or leave unspoken, we may fall into disgrace and be ruined. As any word of mine may cause my death, I will at least die for words that please me." The Emperor smiled. "You must confess, patrician, that I can bear a great deal of plain-speaking." "You are by nature great, O Justinianus, and a magnanimous ruler; else Narses would not serve you. But Omphale rendered even Hercules small." The eyes of the Empress shone with hatred. Justinianus became uneasy. "Go," he said, "I will consult with the Empress alone. To-morrow you shall hear my decision." CHAPTER XV. No sooner were they gone, than Justinian went up to his wife, and pressed a kiss upon her white forehead. "Forgive him," he said, "he means well." "I know it," she answered, returning the kiss. "It is for this reason, and because he is indispensable as a foil to Belisarius, that he still lives." "You are right, as always," cried Justinian, putting his arm round her, and thus walking with her up and down the room. "What does he intend to do?" thought Theodora; "this tenderness indicates a bad conscience." "You are right," he repeated, "God has denied me the spirit which decides the fate of battles, and, in compensation, has given me these two men of victory---_fortunately_ two of them. Their jealousy of each other secures my dominion better than their fidelity. Either of these generals alone would be a continual danger to the state, and on the day that they become friends, my throne will shake. You continue to excite their mutual dislike?" "It is easy to excite. There is as natural an antipathy between them as between fire and water. And every spiteful remark of the eunuch I tell with indignation to my friend Antonina, the wife and mistress of the hero Belisarius." "And I repeat every rudeness of this hero to the irritable cripple. But to our consultation. Since receiving the report of Alexandros, I am almost decided upon the expedition to Italy." "Whom will you send?" "Belisarius, of course. He promises to accomplish with thirty thousand, that which Narses will scarcely undertake with eighty thousand." "Do you think that so small a force will be sufficient?" "No. But the honour of Belisarius is engaged. He will exert his utmost strength, and yet will not quite succeed." "That will be wholesome for him. For, since the war with the Vandals, his pride has become insupportable." "But," continued the Emperor, "he will accomplish three-fourths of the work. Then I will recall him, march myself with sixty thousand, taking Narses with me, and easily finish the remaining fourth of the task. Then I, too, shall be called a great general and a conqueror." "Finely thought out!" cried Theodora, with sincere admiration of his subtlety: "your plan is ripe." "However," said Justinian, sighing and stopping in his walk, "Narses is right; I must confess it. It would be better for my empire if I defended it from the Persians, instead of attacking the Goths. It would be wiser and safer policy. For, at some time or other, destruction will come from the East." "Let it come! It may not be for centuries, when the only thing remembered of Justinianus will be the fame of having reconquered Italy as well as Africa. Is it your office to take thought for the future? Those who come after you may care for their present; let yours be your only care." "But if it should then be said: had Justinian defended his kingdom instead of making conquests, it would now be better? If they say: Justinian's victories have destroyed the empire?" "No one will speak thus. Mankind is dazzled by the glory of Fame. And yet another thing--" and now the earnestness of deep conviction chased the expression of cunning persuasiveness from the seductive features of the Empress. "I suspect what you are about to say; but continue." "You are not only an Emperor, you are a man. Your salvation must be dearer to you than even your kingdom. Many a bloody step was taken upon the path, upon _our_ path--which led to the height to which we have attained, to the glory of our empire. Many harsh deeds were necessary; life and treasures, and many a dangerous foe were--enough! It is true that, with part of these treasures, we are building a temple to the glory of Christ, which alone will make our name immortal upon earth. But for Heaven--who knows if that be sufficient! Let us"--and her eyes glowed with fanatic fire--"let us destroy the unbelievers, and seek the path to grace and pardon over the bodies of the enemies of Christ!" Justinian pressed her hand. "The Persians, too, are the enemies of Christ; they are even heathens." "Have you forgotten the teaching of the Prophet: 'heretics are seven times worse than heathens?' The true faith has been revealed to them and they have despised it. That is the sin against the Holy Ghost, which will never be forgiven on earth or in heaven. But you are the sword which shall destroy these God-forsaken Arians! They are the most hated enemies of Christ; they know Him, and still deny that He is God. Already you have overthrown the heretic Vandals in Africa, and smothered error in blood and fire. Now Italy calls upon you; Rome, the place where the blood of the prince of Apostles was shed, the holy city, must no longer be subject to the heretics. Justinian, recall her to the true faith!" She ceased. The Emperor looked up at the golden cross and sighed deeply. "You unveil the inmost depths of my heart. It is this feeling which, mightier still than love of fame and victory, urges me to this war. But am I capable, am I worthy of achieving such a holy work to the honour of God? Will He consummate such a great deed by my sinful hand? I doubt; I waver. Was the dream which came to me last night sent from Heaven? What was its meaning? did it incite to the attempt or warn me off? Well, your mother, Komito, the prophetess of Cyprus, had great wisdom in interpreting dreams and warnings----" "And you know that the gift is inherited. Did I not foretell the result of the war with the Vandals from your dreams?" "Then you shall also explain this last dream to me. You know that I waver in my best plans, if an omen speaks against them. Listen then. But"--and he cast an uneasy glance at his wife--"but remember that it was but a _dream_, and no man can answer for his dreams." "Certainly; God sends them.--What shall I hear?" she added to herself. "Last night I fell asleep while meditating over the last reports about Amala--about Italy. I dreamed that I was wandering in a landscape with seven hills. Under a laurel-tree there reposed the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I stood before her and looked at her with delight. Suddenly there rushed out of a thicket at my right hand a growling bear, and, from the rocks to the left, a hissing snake, and darted at the sleeping woman. She woke and called my name. I quickly caught her up, and, pressing her to my bosom, fled. Looking back, I saw that the bear crushed the snake, while the snake stung the bear to death." "Well, and the woman?" "The woman pressed a hasty kiss upon my forehead and suddenly vanished. I awoke and stretched out my arms for her in vain. The woman," he continued quickly, before Theodora had time to reflect, "is, of course, Italy." "Certainly," said the Empress quietly, but her bosom heaved. "Your dream is most happy. The bear and the snake are barbarians and Italians, who strive for the city upon the seven hills. You tear it from their grasp, and let them mutually destroy each other." "But she vanishes--she does not remain." "She remains. She kisses you and disappears in your arms. So will Italy be swallowed up in your empire." "You are right!" said Justinian, springing up. "Thanks, my wise wife. You are the light of my soul! I will venture. Belisarius shall march." He was about to call the attendant, but suddenly stopped short. "One thing more," and casting down his eyes he took Theodora's hand. "Ah!" thought Theodora, "now it is coming." "When we have destroyed the kingdom of the Goths, and have with the Queen's help taken Ravenna--what--what shall be done with her, the Princess?" "What shall be done with her?" repeated Theodora with well-feigned composure. "That which was done with the King of the Vandals. She shall come here, to Byzantium." Justinian breathed again. "It rejoices me that you have at once interpreted my thought," and he kissed her slender white hand with real pleasure. "More than that," said Theodora. "She will enter into our plans all the more willingly if she can look forward to an honourable reception here. So I will myself write her a sisterly epistle inviting her to come. In case of need she shall ever find an asylum in my heart." "You do not know," interrupted Justinian eagerly, "how much you will assist our victory by so doing. The daughter of Theodoric must be completely weaned from her people. She shall herself lead us to Ravenna." "But if so, you cannot immediately send Belisarius with an army. It would only awaken her suspicions and make her rebellious. She must first be completely in our power and the barbarians must have begun an internecine war, before the sword of Belisarius flies from its sheath." "But at least he must henceforth be in the vicinity." "Certainly, perhaps in Sicily. The disturbances in Africa afford the best excuse for sending a fleet into those waters. And as soon as the net is sunk Belisarius must draw it together." "But who shall sink it?" Theodora reflected for a few moments; then she said: "The most gifted man in the West; Cethegus Cæsarius, the Prefect of Rome, the friend of my youth." "Quite right. But not he alone. He is a Roman, no subject of mine; and I am not sure of him. Whom shall I send? Once again Alexandros?" "No," said Theodora, "he is too young for such a task. No." And she became thoughtfully silent. "Justinian," she said at last, "you shall see that I can sacrifice my personal dislikes for the sake of the empire, when it is necessary to choose the right man. I propose my enemy, Petros, the cousin of Narses, the fellow-student of the Prefect, the sly rhetorician--send him!" "Theodora!" cried the Emperor, embracing her; "God himself has given you to me! Cethegus--Petros--Belisarius. Barbarians! you are lost!" CHAPTER XVI. The morning following this conversation the beautiful Empress rose in great good-humour from her swelling cushions, which were filled with the delicate neck-feathers of the Pontian crane, and covered with pale yellow silk. Before the bed stood a tripod holding a silver basin, representing Oceanus; in it lay a massive golden ball. The Empress lifted the ball and let it fall clanging into the basin. The clear tone roused the Syrian slave who slept in the ante-room. She entered, and, approaching the bed of the Empress with her arms crossed upon her bosom, drew back the heavy violet-coloured curtains of Chinese silk. Then she took a soft Iberian sponge, which, soaked in asses' milk, lay in a crystal dish, and carefully wiped off the coating of oily paste with which the neck and face of her mistress were covered during the night. Next she kneeled down before the bed, her face bent almost to the earth, and stretched out her hand to the Empress, who, taking it, slowly set her foot upon the neck of the kneeling girl, and sprang elastically to the ground. The slave rose and threw over her mistress, who, clad only in an under-tunic of the finest lawn, sat upon the palm-wood frame of the bed--a fine dressing-mantle of rose-coloured stuff. Then she made a profound obeisance, turned to the door, cried "Agave!" and disappeared. Agave, a young and beautiful Thessalian girl, entered the room. She rolled a washstand of citrean-wood, covered with countless boxes and bottles, close before her mistress, and began to rub her face, neck, and hands with soft cloths dipped in different wines and essences. This task completed, the Empress rose from the bedside and stepped on to a couch covered with panther's skins. "The large bath towards mid-day," she said. Agave pushed an oval bath of terebinthus-wood, covered outside with tortoise-shell and filled with deliciously-scented water, in front of the divan, and lifted the little white feet of the Empress into it. Afterwards she loosened the net of gold-thread which confined the luxurious hair of her mistress during the night, letting the rich dark coils fall over neck and shoulders, and departed in her turn, calling "Galatea!" Galatea was an aged slave, the nurse, attendant, and, we regret to add, the procuress of Theodora, when the latter was only the bespangled daughter of Acacius the lion-keeper, and, while yet almost a child, the already deeply-corrupted favourite of the great Circus. Galatea had faithfully shared all the humiliations and triumphs, the vices and cunning of the adventuress's life until the latter had attained to the imperial throne. "How hast thou slept, my dove?" asked Galatea, handing to Theodora in a vessel of amber the aromatic essence which the town of Adana, in Sicily, was forced to send in large quantities for the Empress's use as a yearly tribute. "Well; I dreamt of him." "Of Alexandros?" "No, thou fool! of the handsome Anicius." "But Alexandros has been waiting for some time already; outside in the secret niche." "He is impatient," said the Empress, smiling; "well then, let him in!" And she leaned back upon the long divan, drawing a cover of purple silk over her; but the delicate ankles of her beautiful feet remained visible. Galatea bolted the principal door, through which she had entered, and crossed the room to the opposite corner, which was filled by a colossal bronze statue of Justinian. She touched a spring, and the seemingly immovable mass turned on one side, exposing a small opening in the wall, which was completely hidden by the statue in its normal position. A dark curtain was drawn before this opening. Galatea lifted the curtain and Alexandros hurried in. He threw himself on his knees before the Empress, caught her small hand and covered it with kisses. Theodora gently drew it away. "It is very imprudent, Alexandros," said she, leaning back her lovely head, "to admit a lover to the toilet of his mistress. What says the poet: 'All things serve beauty. Yet it is no pleasant sight to see that in preparation which only pleases when complete.' But I promised, when you left for Ravenna, to admit you to my toilet, and you richly deserve your reward. You have ventured much for me. Fasten the braids tighter," she cried to Galatea, who had now commenced the task, entrusted to her alone, of dressing the splendid hair of her mistress. "You have risked your life for me, Alexandros!" and she gave him two fingers of her right hand. "Oh, Theodora!" cried the youth, "to gain but this one moment I would die ten times over!" "But," she continued, "why did you not send me a copy of the barbarian Queen's last letter to Justinian?" "It was not possible; there was no time. I could send no more messengers from my ship. I barely succeeded, after landing, in sending you word that her picture was among the presents. You came just at the right moment!" "Yes; what would become of me if I did not pay Justinian's door-keepers twice as well as he? But, most imprudent of ambassadors! how stupid you were about the date!" "Oh, loveliest daughter of Cyprus! I had not seen you for months! I could think of nothing but you and your wonderful beauty!" "Well, I suppose I must forgive you.--Galatea, bring me the black fillet.--You are a better lover than a statesman, Alexandros. Therefore I have kept you here. Yes, you were to have gone once more to Ravenna! But I think I will send an older ambassador, and keep the young one for myself. Shall I?" Alexandros, becoming bolder and more ardent, sprang up and pressed a kiss upon her rosy lips. "Hold, traitor!" she scolded, and struck his cheek lightly with a fan of flamingo-feathers. "Enough for to-day. To-morrow you may come again, and tell me about the barbarian beauties. I must have the next hour for another." "For another!" cried Alexandros, starting back. "So what they whisper in the gymnasiums and baths of Byzantium is true! You ever faithless----" "Theodora's friends must never be jealous," laughed the Empress. It was no sweet laughter. "But this time you may be quite easy; you shall meet him yourself. Go." Galatea took the reluctant lover by the shoulders, without ceremony, and pushed him behind the statue and out of the secret door. Theodora now seated herself upright, and fastened the loose folds of her long under-garment with her girdle. CHAPTER XVII. Galatea appeared again immediately, accompanied by a little round-backed man, who looked much older than his forty-years justified. His wise, but pinched features, piercing eyes, and cunning mouth, made a disagreeable impression on all who observed him. Theodora returned his creeping salutation by a slight nod. Galatea began to paint her eyebrows. "Empress," the new-comer began, "I wonder at your courage. If I were seen here! A moment's rashness would render vain the prudence of nine years!" "But you will not be seen, Petros," said Theodora quietly. "This is the only hour in which I am secure from Justinian's importunate tenderness. It is his hour of prayer. I must profit by it as much as I can. God preserve his piety! Galatea, my wine. What! Surely, thou dost not fear to leave me alone with this dangerous seducer?" The old woman left the room with a hateful grin upon her lips, and soon returned with a jug of sweet heated Chian-wine in one hand, and a cup of honey and water in the other. "I could not arrange our meeting in the church as usual, where, in the dark confessional, you look exactly like a priest. The Emperor will call you before church-time, and you must be thoroughly instructed beforehand." "What is then to be done?" "Petros," answered Theodora, leaning comfortably back and sipping the sweet mixture which Galatea now handed to her, "the day has come which will reward all our years of patience, and make you a great man." "It is time, indeed!" observed Petros. "Do not be impatient, friend.--Galatea, a little more honey.--In order to put you into the right humour for to-day's business, it will be well to remind you of the past, of the manner in which our--friendship originated." "What mean you? Wherefore----" "For many reasons. To begin. You were the cousin and adherent of my deadly enemy, Narses. Consequently, you were my enemy too. For years you acted against me in your cousin's service, hurting me but little, and still less benefiting yourself. For Narses, your virtuous friend, considers it a point of honour never to do anything for his relations; so that, unlike other courtiers of the realm, he may never be accused of nepotism. Out of pure friendship and virtue, he left you unpromoted. You remained a simple writer and a poor man. But a clever man like you knows how to help himself. You forged--you doubled the amount of the Emperor's dues. Besides what was demanded by the Emperor, the provinces paid another tax, which Petros and the tax-gatherers shared amongst themselves. For a time all went on smoothly. But once----" "Empress, I beseech you!" "I shall soon have finished, friend. But once you had the misfortune to have a new tax-gatherer, who valued the favour of the Empress more than the share of booty which you promised him. He entered into your plans, allowed you to forge the documents--and showed them to me!" "The wretch!" murmured Petros. "Yes, it was bad enough," said Theodora smiling, and setting down her glass. "So I had the neck of my sly enemy, the confidant of the hated eunuch, under my foot; and, I must confess, I had a great desire to trample upon him. But I sacrificed a short revenge for a great and enduring advantage. I called you to me, and told you to choose whether you would die or serve me for life. You were kind enough to choose the last, and, still the greatest enemies in the eyes of the world, we have secretly worked together for years. No sooner has Narses formed a plan, than you reveal it to me. I have rewarded you well. You are now a rich man." "Not worth mentioning." "Oh, indeed, ungrateful man! My treasurer knows better. You are _very_ rich." "Yes, but without dignity or rank. My fellow-students are patricians, great men in the East and West; like Cethegus in Rome, and Procopius here." "Patience! From this day you will quickly climb the ladder of ambition. It was necessary to keep something in reserve. Listen; to-morrow you go as ambassador to Ravenna." "As imperial ambassador!" cried Petros, rejoiced. "Through my influence. But that is not all. You will receive circumstantial directions from Justinian to undermine the kingdom of the Goths, and smooth the path of Belisarius in Italy." "Shall I obey these directions, or not?" "Obey them. But you will receive another order, which Justinian will particularly recommend to your notice; that is, to save the daughter of Theodoric from the hands of her enemies at any price, and bring her to Byzantium. Here is a letter from me to her, which presses her to take refuge in my arms." "'Tis well," said Petros, taking the letter. "I will bring her here immediately." Theodora, like an angry snake, started up on her couch with such impetuosity, that Petros and Galatea retreated in affright. "No, no, Petros! no!" she exclaimed. "For this reason I send you. She must _not_ come to Byzantium! She must not live!" Confounded, Petros let the letter fall. "Oh, Empress!" he whispered; "murder?" "Peace!" cried Theodora, in a hoarse voice; and her eyes sparkled cruelly. "She must die!" "Die? Oh, Empress! wherefore?" "There is no need for you to know that. But stay; I will tell you, for it will give the spur to your courage. Listen." She seized his arm wildly, and whispered in his ear, "Justinian, the traitor, has conceived a passion for her!" "Theodora!" cried Petros, startled. The Empress fell back upon her couch. "But he has never seen her," stammered Petros. "He has seen her portrait. He already dreams of her. He has fallen in love with her picture." "You have never yet had a rival." "No; nor ever will." "You are so beautiful." "Amalaswintha is younger." "You are so wise; you are Justinian's counsellor the confidant of his most secret thoughts." "It is just this which annoys him. And"--she again caught his arm--"remember, she is a King's daughter, a born ruler; and I--am the plebeian daughter of a lion-keeper! Ridiculous and insane though it be, Justinian, in his purple, forgets that he is the son of a shepherd from the Dardanelles. He has imbibed the madness of Kings; he, himself an adventurer, chatters about innate majesty, about the mystery of royal blood! I have no protection against such whims. I fear nothing from all the women in the world. But this King's daughter----" She angrily started up, and clenched her small fist. "Beware, Justinian!" she cried, pacing the room. "With this eye and hand I have subdued lions and tigers; let us see if I cannot keep this fox in royal purple at my feet." She re-seated herself. "In short, Amalaswintha dies," she said, suddenly becoming quite cool again. "Yes," said Petros, "but not through me. You have bloodthirsty servants enough; send them. I am a man who will talk----" "You are a man who will die if you do not obey! You, my supposed enemy, must do it. None of my friends can venture it without arousing suspicion." "Theodora," said Petros, forgetting himself, "take care! To murder the daughter of Theodoric, a born Queen----" "Ha, ha!" said Theodora, in a rage, "you, too, miserable man, are dazzled by the 'born Queen!' All men are fools, still more than rascals! Listen, Petros--the day when the news of her death arrives from Ravenna, you shall be a senator and a patrician." The man's eyes sparkled, but cowardice or conscience were still stronger than ambition. "No," he said decidedly, "I would rather lose the court and all my plans." "You will lose your life, wretch!" cried Theodora. "Oh, you think you are safe, because I burnt the forged documents before your eyes! You fool! they were false! Look here; here I hold your life in my hands!" She dragged a yellow parchment from a roll of documents, and showed it to Petros, who, completely subdued, fell upon his knees at her feet. "Command me!" he stammered, "I obey." Just then a knocking was heard at the principal door. "Away!" cried the Empress, "take my letter to the Queen from the ground, and think over what I have said: patrician if she dies, torture and death if she lives. Go!" Galatea pushed the bewildered man through the secret entrance, turned the statue into its place again, and went to open the great door. CHAPTER XVIII. There entered a stately woman, taller and of coarser frame than the small and delicate Empress; not so seductively beautiful, but younger and more blooming, with a fresh complexion and natural manners. "Welcome, Antonina, sister of my heart! Come to my arms!" cried the Empress to the new-comer, who humbly bent before her. Antonina obeyed in silence. "How hollow her eyes have become," she thought, as she rose from the embrace. "How bony is the soldier's wife!" said the delicate Empress to herself, and looked at her friend. "You are as blooming as Hebe!" she said aloud, "and how well the white silk becomes your fresh complexion. Have you anything to tell me of--of him?" she asked indifferently, and took from the wash-stand a much-dreaded instrument, a sharp lancet with an ivory handle, with which clumsy, or even only unfortunate, slaves were often pricked by their angry mistress. "Not to-day," whispered Antonina, blushing. "I did not see him yesterday." "I believe it!" said Theodora to herself, with a hidden smile. "Oh, how painfully I shall miss you soon!" she added aloud, stroking Antonina's full round arm. "Perhaps Belisarius will sail next week, and you, most faithful of all wives, will go with him. Which of your friends will accompany you?" "Procopius," answered Antonina, "and--" she added, casting down her eyes--"the two sons of Boëthius." "Ah, indeed," remarked the Empress, smiling, "I understand. In the freedom of the camp you hope to please yourself with the handsome youth, undisturbed; and while our hero, Belisarius, fights battles and conquers cities----" "You guess rightly. But I have a request to make. You are fortunate. Alexandros, your handsome friend, has returned; he remains near you, and is his own master; but Anicius, you know, is still under the strict guardianship of his elder brother, Severinus. Never would he--who thinks of nothing but fighting for freedom and revenge--suffer this tender friendship. He would repeatedly disturb our intimacy. Therefore do me a favour: do not let Severinus follow us! When we are on board with Anicius, keep the elder brother in Byzantium, either by cunning or by force. You can do it easily--you are the Empress!" "That is not bad," laughed Theodora. "What stratagems! One can see that you have learned from Belisarius." Antonina blushed violently. "Oh, do not name him! Do not mock me! You know best from whom I learnt to do that for which I must blush." Theodora shot a fierce glance at her friend, who, without noticing it, continued: "Heaven knows that Belisarius himself was not more faithful than I, until I came to this court! It was you, Empress, who taught me that these selfish men, occupied with affairs of state, war, and ambition, neglect us when they have become our husbands, and no longer value us when they possess us. You taught me that it is no sin to accept the innocent homage, the flattering devotion which is denied to us by our husbands, from friends who court us because they still hope. God is my witness, that it is nothing but this sweet incense which Belisarius denies me, and which my vain weak heart sorely needs, that I expect from Anicius." "Fortunately for me, it will soon tire him out," said Theodora to herself. "And yet," continued Antonina, "even this, I fear, is a sin against Belisarius. Oh, how great, how noble he is! If only he were not too great for this little heart." And she buried her face in her hands. "The pitiful creature!" thought the Empress, "too weak for vice, as for virtue." At this moment Agave, the beautiful Thessalian slave, entered the room with a large bunch of splendid roses. "From him," she whispered to her mistress. "From whom?" asked Theodora. But Antonina just then looked up, and Agave made a sign of warning. The Empress, in order to occupy her, gave Antonina the roses. "If you please, put them into that marble vase." As Antonina turned her back upon them to obey, Agave whispered: "From him whom you kept hidden here all day yesterday; from the handsome Anicius," the pretty girl added, blushing. But she had scarcely uttered the imprudent words, than she gave a loud cry, and held her left arm to her lips. The Empress struck her in the face with the still bloody lancet. "I will teach you to notice whether men are handsome or ugly," she cried furiously. "You will keep to the spinning-room for four weeks. Go at once! and do not show yourself again in my ante-rooms." The weeping girl left the room, hiding her face in her dress. "What has she done?" asked Antonina, coming forward. "She let the scent-bottle fall," answered Galatea quickly, and picked one up from the floor. "Mistress, I have finished." "Then let the dressers in, and whoever else waits in the ante-room. Will you, meanwhile, look at these verses, Antonina? They are the newest poems of Arator, 'The Deeds of the Apostles,' and very edifying. This particularly, 'The Stoning of St. Stephen.' But read, and judge for yourself." Galatea opened wide the doors of the principal entrance. A whole troop of slaves and freed-women streamed in. Some occupied themselves with clearing away the articles of toilet hitherto used; others swung censers with aromatic incense, or sprinkled balsam about the room from narrow-necked flasks. But most of them were busy about the person of the Empress, who now completed her toilet. Galatea took off the rose-coloured tunic. "Berenice," she cried, "bring the Milesian tunic, with the purple stripe and gold tassels. To-day is Sunday ." While the experienced old woman was artfully fastening into the knot of the Empress's hair a costly gold needle, its head formed of a gem, engraved with a head of Venus, the Empress asked: "What news, from the city, Delphine?" "You have won, mistress!" answered Delphine, kneeling down with the gilded sandals; "your colours, the blue, have beaten the green; both with the horses and the chariots!" "What a triumph!" cried Theodora joyfully. "A bet of two centenaria of gold; it is mine! News? Whence? from Italy?" she cried to a slave who just entered with letters. "Yes, mistress, from Florence; from the Gothic Princess, Gothelindis. I know the Gorgon-seal; and from Silverius, the archdeacon." "Give me them," said Theodora, "I will take them with me to church. The mirror, Elpis." A young slave came forward with an oval plate of brilliantly-polished silver, in a gold frame, richly set with pearls, and standing on a strong foot of ivory. Poor Elpis had a hard service. During the completion of the toilet she had to hold the heavy plate, and, following every movement of her restless mistress, turn it, so that the latter could always look at her own reflection, and woe to Elpis if she were too late in turning! "What is there to buy, Zephyris?" the Empress asked a dark-skinned Lybian freed-woman, who just then brought her a tame snake to caress, which lay in a small basket upon soft moss. "Oh, nothing particular," answered the Lybian. "Come, Glauke," she added, taking a snowy white chlamys, embroidered with gold, from a clothes-press, and carefully spreading it out upon her arms, waited until Glauke took it from her, and, at one throw, arranged it in graceful folds upon the shoulders of the Empress, clasping it with the white girdle, and fastening one end upon her pearly shoulder with a golden brooch, which, formed in the shape of the dove of Venus, now represented the sign of the Holy Ghost. Glauke, the daughter of an Athenian sculptor, had studied the folds of the chlamys for years, and for this reason had been bought by the Empress at a cost of many thousand solidi. The whole day long this was her sole occupation. "Sweet-scented soap-balls," said Zephyris, "have just arrived from Spain. A new Milesian fairy-tale has just come out. And the old Egyptian is there again, with his Nile-water," she added in a low tone; "he says it is unfailing. The Persian Queen, who was childless for eight years----" Theodora turned away sighing; a shadow passed across her smooth face. "Send him away," she said; "this hope is past forever." And, for a moment, it seemed as if she would have sunk into a melancholy reverie. But she roused herself, and, beckoning to Galatea, she went back to her bed, took a crushed wreath of ivy which lay upon the pillow, and gave it to the old woman, whispering: "For Anicius, send it to him. The jewels, Erigone!" Erigone, with the help of two other slaves, brought forward, with great trouble, a heavy bronze casket, the lid of which, representing the workshop of Vulcan in embossed figures, was closed with the seal of the Empress. Erigone showed that the seal was intact, and then opened the lid. Many a girl stood upon her tiptoes to catch a glance at the shining treasures. "Will you wear the summer rings, mistress?" asked Erigone. "No," said Theodora, looking into the casket, "the time for those is over. Give me the heavy ones, the emeralds." Erigone handed to her rings, earrings, and bracelet. "How beautifully," said Antonina, looking up from her pious verses, "how beautifully the white of the pearls contrasts with the green of the stones." "It was one of Cleopatra's treasures," said the Empress indifferently; "the Jew swore to its pedigree." "But you linger long," said Antonina. "Justinian's litter was already waiting as I came up." "Yes, mistress," said a young slave anxiously, "the slave at the sundial has already announced the fourth hour. Hasten, mistress!" A prick with the lancet was the only answer. "Would you teach your Empress!" but she whispered to Antonina: "We must not spoil the men; they must always wait for us, never we for them. My ostrich fan, Thais. Go, Ione, tell the Cappadocian slaves to come to my litter." And she turned to go. "Oh, Theodora!" cried Antonina quickly, "do not forget my request." "No," answered Theodora, suddenly standing still, "certainly not! And that you may be quite sure, I will give the order into your own hands. My wax-tablets and the stylus!" Galatea brought them in haste. Theodora wrote, and whispered to her friend: "The Prefect of the harbour is one of my old friends. He blindly obeys me. Read what I write." "To Aristarchus the Prefect, Theodora the Empress. "When Severinus, the son of Boëthius, is about to go on board the ship of Belisarius, keep him back, if necessary, by force; and send him to my rooms. He is appointed my chamberlain." "Is that right, dear sister?" she whispered. "A thousand thanks!" said Antonina, with beaming eyes. "But," said the Empress suddenly, putting her hand to her neck, "have we forgotten the principal thing? My amulet! the Mercury. Please, Antonina; there it hangs." Antonina turned hastily to fetch the little golden Mercury, which hung, by a silk cord, on the bed of the Empress. Meanwhile Theodora quickly crossed out the word "Severinus," and wrote instead "Anicius." She closed the tablets, tied them, and fastened the string with her seal. "Here is the amulet," said Antonina, returning. "And here is the order," said the Empress, smiling. "You can give it to Aristarchus yourself at the moment of departure. Now," she cried, "let us go. To the church!" CHAPTER XIX. In Neapolis, that Italian city over which the tempest then gathering at Byzantium was soon to burst in its first violence, no presentiment of the coming danger was felt. On the charming declivities of Posilippo, or on the shore to the south-east of the city, there wandered, day by day, two handsome youths, exchanging confidences with all the enthusiasm of youthful friendship. They were the "Dioscuri," Julius and Totila. Oh, happy time! when the uncorrupted soul, breathing the fresh morning air of life, as yet untired and undeceived, and drunk with the ecstasy of ambitious dreams, is urged to impart to an equally young, equally rich and equally enthusiastic nature its overflowing sentiments! The noblest resolves are strengthened, and imagination wings its way to the very gates of heaven, in the happy certainty that he who listens will understand. When the wreath upon our brows is faded, and the harvest of our life is ripe, we may smile at these dreams of youth and youthful friendship; but it is no smile of mockery; it is tinged with the melancholy with which we think of the sweet, exhilarating airs of spring, while inhaling the breath of decay in autumn. The young Goth and the young Roman had met at the age most favourable to the formation of the bond of friendship. Totila's sunny soul had preserved all the dewy bloom of youth; with smiling eyes he looked forth into the smiling future. He loved his fellow-creatures, and won all hearts by his amiability and the joyous frankness of his disposition. He believed in the complete victory of good over evil. Where meanness and wickedness met him in his path, he trod them into the dust with the holy anger of an archangel; from the depths of his gentle nature the latent heroic strength broke forth, and he did not rest until the hated elements were destroyed. But the disturbance was forgotten as soon as overcome, and life and the world again appeared to him as harmonious as his own soul. He walked through the crowded streets of Neapolis with a song upon his lips, the idol of the girls, the pride of his brothers in arms. With such a nature Totila was the favourite of all who knew him, receiving and imparting happiness. Even his quiet friend imbibed somewhat of the charm of his temperament. Julius Montanus, of a sensitive and thoughtful disposition, of an almost feminine nature, had been early left an orphan, and, awed by the immense superiority of his guardian Cethegus, had grown up shy, lonely and studious. More oppressed than elevated by the cheerless science of his time, he was apt; to look upon life as earnest and almost sad. He was inclined to subject all things to the severe test of superhuman perfection, and his natural self-distrust might easily have darkened into melancholy. At a happy moment Totila's friendship shone into the inmost depths of his heart, and penetrated it with such a sunny warmth that his noble nature was thereby enabled to rise with elasticity from a severe shock which it received by means of this very friendship. Let us hear what he himself wrote about this circumstance to the Prefect. "To Cethegus the Prefect, Julius Montanus. "The cold-hearted reply to my enthusiastic report of my newly-formed friendship to Totila, at first--surely contrary to your wish--hurt me sorely, but later it was the means of enhancing the happiness of this friendship in a manner, however, which you could neither foresee nor wish. Sorrow caused by you was soon changed into sorrow for _you_. Though at first I felt hurt because you treated my deepest feelings as the mere enthusiasm of a sickly boy, and tried to assail my profoundest convictions with bitter mockery--only _tried_, for they are unassailable--this feeling was soon changed into one of compassion for you. It is sad that a man like you, so rich in intellect, should be so poor in heart. It is sad that you do not know the happiness of self-denial, or of that unselfish love, which is called in the language of a belief--more laughed at than credited by you, but to which each day of pain draws me closer--_caritas_! Forgive the freedom of my words. I know I have never yet addressed such to you, but I have only lately become _what_ I am. Perhaps it was not wholly with injustice that, in your last letter, you blamed the traces of childishness which you found in me. I believe that they have disappeared since then, and I speak to you now as a _man_. Your 'medicine' has certainly accelerated my development, but not in your sense of the word and not according to your wish. It has brought me pain, holy and refining; it has put my friendship to a severe test, and, God be thanked, the fire has not destroyed it, but hardened it for ever. Read on and you will wonder at the manner in which Heaven has carried out your plans! Though pained at your letter, I very soon, with my habitual obedience, sought your friend, Valerius Procillus, the trader in purple. He had already left the town for his charming villa. There I followed him, and found a man of much experience, and a zealous friend of freedom and of his country. His daughter Valeria is a jewel! You prophesied truly. My intention of being extremely reserved melted at her sight like mist before the sun. It seemed to me as if Electra or Cassandra, Cl[oe]lia or Virginia, stood before me! But still more than by her great beauty, I was charmed by the grace of her mind as it unfolded itself before me. Her father at once invited me to remain as his guest, and under his roof I have spent the happiest days of my life. Valeria lives in the poetry of the ancients. How her melodious voice lent splendour to the choruses of Æschylus, and melancholy to Antigone's lament! We read together for hours, and when she rose from her chair in her enthusiasm, when her dark hair waved freely over her shoulders and her eyes flashed with an almost unearthly fire, she looked indeed wonderfully beautiful. Her character gains an additional charm from a circumstance which may cause her much future grief, and which runs through her life like a cruel rent. You will guess what I mean, for you know the history of her family. You know better than I how it happened that her mother dedicated Valeria at her birth to a lonely virgin life, passed in works of piety, but that her rich father, more worldly than heavenly-minded, bought her release from this vow at the cost of a church and a cloister. But Valeria believes that Heaven will not accept dead gold for a living soul; she does not feel released from this vow, of which she thinks not with love but with fear. For you were right when you wrote that she is a true child of the ancient heathen world. Not only that, but she is the true child of her father, yet still she cannot altogether renounce the pious Christianity of her mother; it lives within her, not as a blessing, but as an overpowering curse; as the inevitable fetter of that fatal vow. This strange conflict of feeling tortures her, but it ennobles her also. Who knows how the struggle will be ended? Heaven alone which will decide her fate. This inward strife attracts me. You know that Christian faith and atheistic philosophy struggle for the victory in my soul. To my astonishment, faith has increased during these days of sorrow, and it almost seems to me that happiness leads to heathen wisdom, and pain and misfortune to Christ. But you have still to learn the cause of my suffering. When I became at first aware of my growing passion, I was full of joyful hope. Valerius, perhaps already influenced by you, observed my attention to Valeria with no dislike; perhaps the only thing he disapproved in me was, that I did not sufficiently share in his dreams of a renewed Roman Republic, or his in hatred of the Byzantines; in whom he sees the deadly enemies, not only of his family, but of Italy. Valeria, too, soon bestowed her friendship upon me, and who knows if at that time this friendship and her reverence to her father's wishes would not have sufficed to induce her to accept my love. But I thank--shall I say God or Fate?--that this did not happen. To sacrifice Valeria to a married life of indifference would have been a sacrilege. I do not know what strange feeling prevented me from speaking the word, which, at that time, would have made her mine. I loved her deeply; but each time that I was about to take courage and sue to her father for her hand, a feeling crept over me as if I were trespassing on another's property; as if I were not worthy of her, or not intended for her; and I was silent and controlled my beating heart. One day, at the sixth hour--it was sultry and the sun scorched both land and sea--I went to seek coolness and shade in the grotto of the garden. I entered through the oleander-bushes. There Valeria reposed upon a soft, mossy bank, one hand resting upon her gently-heaving bosom, the other placed beneath her head, which was still crowned with a wreath of asphodels worn during the evening meal. I stood before her trembling; she had never looked so lovely. I bent over her, lost in admiration; my heart beat quickly. I bent still lower, and would have kissed her delicate rosy mouth, but all at once a thought oppressed me: what you are about to do is a robbery! Totila! my whole soul cried within me, and as gently as I had come I left her. Totila! why had I never thought of him before? I reproached myself for having almost forgotten the brother of my heart in my new happiness. The next day I returned to Neapolis to fetch him. I praised the beauty of the maiden, but I could not prevail on myself to tell him of my love. I preferred that he should come and find it out for himself. On our arrival at the villa we did not find Valeria in the house. So I led Totila into the garden--Valeria is passionately fond of flowers--and as we issued from an avenue, she appeared before us in all her dazzling beauty. She was standing before a statue of her father and crowning it with freshly-plucked roses, which she held heaped up in a fold of her tunic. "It was a surprisingly beautiful picture--this lovely girl, framed in the dark green of the taxus-bushes, her right hand uplifted to the white marble statue, the other pressing the corner of her robe to her bosom--and the effect upon Totila was overpowering. With a cry of astonishment, he remained rooted to the ground before her. She looked up and started. The roses fell from her dress to the ground; she did not notice it. Their eyes had met, and her cheeks were covered with blushes. At a glance I saw that her and my fate was decided. They loved each other at first sight! This certainly pierced my soul like a burning arrow. But only for a moment did I feel this unmixed pain. The next, as I looked at the two, I felt unselfishly glad that they had found each other; for it seemed as if the Power which creates the souls and bodies of mortals, had formed them of one material for each other. They belonged to each other, like morning sunshine and morning flowers. Now I knew what mysterious feeling had kept me apart from Valeria, and caused me to pronounce his name. By the wisdom of God, or in the course of the stars, it had been decided that Valeria should be Totila's, and that I should not step in between them. "Permit me to leave the rest untold; for my nature is still so selfish, the holy precept of self-denial has still so little power over me, that--I am ashamed to confess it--my heart often fails me, instead of beating with happiness at the good fortune of my friends. As two flames mingle inseparably together, so their hearts were united. They love each other, and are as happy as the immortal gods. To me remains the joy of witnessing their bliss, and helping them to conceal it from the eyes of their father, who will scarcely give his child to the barbarian as long as he sees in Totila _only_ the barbarian. But I keep my love and its sacrificial death a secret from my friend; he does not guess, nor shall he ever learn, that which would only disturb his happiness. You see now, Cethegus, how far from your aim a god has turned your plan. You would have given to me this jewel of Italy, and instead it is laid at Totila's feet. You would have destroyed my friendship, and have, instead, freed it, in the furnace of self-immolation, from all earthly dross, and made it immortal. You would have made me a man through the joy of love, and I have become a man through love's pain. Farewell, and revere the guidance of Heaven!" CHAPTER XX. We will not attempt to describe the effect of this letter upon the Prefect, but will rather accompany the two friends upon one of their evening walks on the charming shores of the Gulf of Neapolis. After an early c[oe]na, they wandered through the city, and out of the Porta Nolana, which was still decorated with some half-ruined reliefs, illustrating the victories of one of the Roman Emperors over the barbarians. Totila stood still and admired the beautiful sculpture. "Who can be that Emperor," he asked his friend, "on the car of victory, with the winged lightning in his hand, like a Jupiter Tonans?" "That is Marcus Aurelius," said Julius, and would have walked on. "Oh, stay a while! And who are those four prisoners in chains, with the long waving hair, who drag the car?" "They are Germanic Kings." "But of what family?" asked Totila. "Look there, an inscription--'_Gothi extincti!_'--the Goths annihilated!" and, laughing loudly, the young Goth struck the marble column with the palm of his hand, and walked quickly through the gate. "A lie in marble!" he cried, looking back. "That Emperor never thought that one day a Gothic Count in Neapolis would give his boast the lie!" "Yes, nations are like the changing leaves upon the tree," said Julius thoughtfully. "Who will govern this land after you?" Totila stood still. "AFTER US?" he asked in astonishment. "What! You do not think that your Goths will endure for ever amongst the nations?" "I don't know that," said Totila, walking on. "My friend, Babylonians and Persians, Greeks and Macedonians, and, as it seems, we Romans also, had their appointed time. They flourished, ripened, and decayed. Will it be otherwise with the Goths?" "I do not know," answered Totila uneasily. "I never thought about it. It has never occurred to me that a time might come when my nation----" He hesitated, as if it were a sin even to express the thought. "How can one imagine such a thing? I think as little about it as I do about--death!" "That is like you, my Totila." "And it is like you, Julius, to tease yourself and others with such dreams." "Dreams! You forget that for me and for my nation it has already become a reality. You forget that I am a Roman. I cannot deceive myself like most men; it is all over with us. The sceptre has gone from us to you. It was not without much painful thought that I learned to forget that you, my bosom friend, are a barbarian, the enemy of my country." "But it is not so, by the light of the sun!" interrupted Totila eagerly. "Do I find this harsh thought in you too? Look around you! When, tell me, when has Italy ever flourished more than under our protection? Scarcely in the time of Augustus! You teach us science and art; we give you peace and protection. Can one imagine a finer correlation? Harmony amongst Romans and Goths may create an entirely new era, more splendid than has ever existed." "Harmony! But it does not exist. You are to us a strange people, divided from us by speech and faith, by race and customs, and by centuries of hatred. Once we robbed you of your freedom; now you have robbed us of ours. Between us yawns a wide abyss." "You reject my favourite idea." "It is a dream!" "No, it is truth. I feel it, and perhaps the time will come when I can prove it. I would build all the fabric of my life upon it." "Then were it built upon a noble delusion. No bridge between Romans and barbarians!" "Then," said Totila, with some heat, "I do not understand how you can live--how you could take me----" "Do not complete your sentence," said Julius gravely. "It was not easy; it was most painful self-denial. Only after a sharp struggle with selfish feelings did I succeed. But at last I have ceased to live only in my nation. The faith which already unites Romans and barbarians as nothing else could; which more and more powerfully conquered my repugnant reason by grief and pain--pain which turned to joy--brought peace to me in the conflict of my soul. In this one thing I may already boast that I am a Christian; I live for mankind, not alone for my nation. I am a man, and no longer a mere Roman. Therefore I can love you, the barbarian, like a brother. Are we not brothers of one family--that of humanity? Therefore I can bear to live, even after seeing my nation die. I live for humanity; that is my people." "No!" cried Totila vehemently; "that I could never do. I can, and will, live only for my nation. My nationality is the air in which alone my soul can breathe. Why should we not endure eternally, or as long as this earth endures? Persians and Greeks? We are of better stuff! Need we fall because they have decayed? We are still in the strength of our youth. Ah, no! If the day should ever come when the Goths fall, may I not live to see it! Oh, ye gods! let us not linger like these sickly Greeks, who cannot live and cannot die. No; if it must be, send a fearful tempest, and let us perish suddenly and gloriously all, all! and I the foremost!" He had excited himself to the warmest enthusiasm. He sprang up from the marble bench upon which they had been seated, and shook his lance in the air. "My friend," said Julius, looking at him kindly, "how well this ardour becomes you! But reflect; such a conflict could only be kindled against _us_, against my nation, and should I----" "If ever such a strife arose, you should cling to your nation, body and soul, that is clear. You think that would interfere with our friendship? Not in the least. Two heroes can cleave each other to the marrow, and yet remain the best friends. Ha! I should rejoice to meet you in battle, with spear and shield." Julius smiled: "My friendship is not of so grim a nature, my savage Goth! These doubts have tormented me for some time, and all my philosophers together could give me no peace. Only since I learned, in my sorrow, that I owe service to God in heaven alone, and must, on earth, live for humanity, and not for a nation----" "Softly, friend," cried Totila, "where is this humanity of which you rave? I do not see it. I see only Goths, Romans, and Byzantines! I know of no humanity somewhere up in the sky, above the existing peoples. I serve humanity by serving my nation! I cannot do otherwise. I can not strip off the skin in which I was born. I speak like a Goth, in Gothic words, not in a language of general humanity: there is no such thing. And as I speak like a Goth, so I feel like a Goth. I can appreciate strange nations certainly; I can admire your art, your science, and, in part, your state, in which everything is so strictly ordered. We can learn much from you; but I could not and would not exchange, even with a people of angels. Ah! my brave Goths! At the bottom of my heart their faults are dearer to me than your virtues!" "How differently I feel, and yet I am a Roman." "You are no Roman! Forgive me, friend, it is long since a Roman existed, else I could never be the Count of the Harbour of Neapolis. No one can feel as you do, whose nation yet exists; and all must feel as I do, who belong to a living people." Julius was silent for a short time. "If it be indeed so, then happy I! If I have lost the earth, I have gained heaven! What are nations, what are states, what is the earth? Not here below is the home of my immortal soul, which longs for a kingdom where all is divine and eternal!" "Stop, Julius," said Totila, standing still, and striking his lance upon the ground. "Here upon earth have I a firm footing; here let me stand and live, doing good, and enjoying what is beautiful. I will not follow you into your heaven. I cannot. I honour your dreams and your longing for holiness; but I do not share your feelings. You know," he added, smiling, "that I am an inveterate heathen, like Valeria--my Valeria! I remember her at the right moment. Your earth-forsaking dreams make us forget the dearest things upon that earth! Look, we have reached the city again; the sun sinks rapidly here in the south, and before nightfall I must take some seeds to the garden of Valerius. A fine gardener," he laughed, "to forget his flowers. Farewell. I turn to the right." "Farewell. Greet Valeria for me. I shall go home and read." "What are you reading now? still Plato?" "No, Augustinus. Farewell!" CHAPTER XXI. Totila, avoiding the more thickly populated parts of the inner town, hurried through the suburbs towards the Porta Capuana and the tower of Isaac, the Jewish gate-keeper. This tower stood on the right of the gate, and had strong walls and a massive arched roof. It was divided into different stories, each being smaller than the one below it. In the top story, close to the battlements, were two low but roomy chambers, intended for the dwelling of the gate-keeper. There lived the old Jew, with Miriam, his beautiful daughter. In the largest of these two rooms--where, against the walls, hung a row of heavy keys belonging to the principal and side doors of this important gate, a curved signal-horn, and the spear of the gate-keeper--sat Isaac, the aged warder, a tall, bony figure, with the hooked nose and arched and bushy eyebrows of his nation. He sat upon a reed mat, with his legs crossed, a long staff laid upon his knees, listening attentively to the words of a young, ill-favoured-looking man, evidently an Israelite, whose hard, sober features were expressive of all the cunning of his race. "Look here, father Isaac," he was saying, in a thin, unpleasant voice, "my words are no vain words, and do not come only from the heart, which is blind, but from the mind, which is sharp to discern. I have brought letter and document for every word that I speak. Here is my appointment as architect of all the aqueducts in Italy; fifty gold solidi yearly, and ten more for every new undertaking. I have just reconstructed the half-ruined aqueduct for this city of Neapolis; in this purse are the ten solidi, money down. Thou seest I can keep a wife, and besides, I am thy cousin Rachel's son, so do not let me speak in vain, but give me Miriam, thy child, to wife, so that she may set my house in order." But the old man stroked his long grey beard, and shook his head slowly. "Jochem, son of Rachel, I say to thee, leave it alone, leave it alone." "Why, what hast thou against me? Who in Israel can speak against Jochem?" "No one. Thou art just and peaceful and industrious, and increasest thy substance, and thy work flourisheth before the Lord. But hast thou ever seen the nightingale mated with the sparrow, or the slender gazelle with the beast of burden? They do not suit each other; and now, look there, and tell me thyself if thou art fitted for Miriam?" He softly pushed aside the curtain which shut off the outer chamber. At a large bow-window which commanded a view of the splendid city, the blue sea, and the distant mountains, stood a young girl, holding a strangely-shaped stringed instrument in her arms. The room was filled with the glowing light of the setting sun, which bathed the white garments and the noble features of the girl with a rosy lustre. It played upon her shining black hair, which, stroked back behind the small ears, exposed the delicate temples; and, like this sunshine, a poetical harmony seemed to envelop her whole figure, accompanying her every movement, and every dreamy look of her dark blue eyes, which, filled with gentle thoughts, gazed out over sea and city. Piso, the poet, had called these eyes "dark sea-blue." As if in a half dream, her fingers touched the strings of her instrument softly, while from her half-open lips there breathed an old and melancholy song: "By the waters of Babylon We sat down and wept. When comes the day when Israel Shall cease to weep?" "Shall cease to weep?" she repeated dreamily, and leaned her head upon her arm, which, enclosing the harp, she rested upon the window-sill. "Look there!" said the old man in a low voice, "is she not as lovely as the rose of Sharon, or the hind upon the mountain, without spot or fleck?" Before Jochem could answer, there sounded from below three knocks upon the small iron door. Miriam started from her reverie, and hurried down the narrow winding staircase. Jochem went to the window, and his face grew dark and frowning. "Ha! the Christian! the cursed Christian!" he growled, and clenched his fist. "That fair Goth again, with his insufferable pride! Father Isaac, is that the stag that suits thee for thy hind?" "Son, speak no mocking word against Isaac! Thou knowest that the youth has set his heart upon a Roman girl; he thinks not of the Pearl of Judah!" "But perhaps the Pearl of Judah thinks of him!" "With joy and gratitude, as the lamb thinks of the strong shepherd who has saved it from the jaws of the wolf. Hast thou forgotten, that, when last these cursed Romans hunted for the treasures and gold-heaps of Israel, and burnt down the synagogue with unholy fire, a band of these wicked men chased my poor child through the streets, like a pack of wolves after a white lamb, and tore the veil from her face, and the kerchief from her shoulders? Where was Jochem then, my cousin's son, who had accompanied her? He had fled from danger with swift feet, and had left the dove in the claws of the vulture!" "I am a man of peace," said Jochem uneasily; "my hand holds not the sword of force." "But Totila held it, brave as the Lion of Judah; and the Lord was with him. Alone he sprang amid the group of impudent robbers, struck the boldest with his sharp sword, and drove away the others as a falcon frighten crows. He covered my trembling child carefully with her veil, and supporting her tottering footsteps, led her home, unhurt, to the arms of her old father. May Jehovah the Lord bless him for this deed with long life and happiness!" "Well," said Jochem, taking up his papers, "then I will go: this time for a long while. I must travel over the great waters to transact an important business." "An important business? With whom?" "With Justinianus, the Emperor of the East. A portion of the great church, which he is building to the glory of God, in the golden town of Constantine, has fallen in. I have made a plan for the restoration of the building." The old man sprang up hastily, and struck his stick upon the ground. "What, Jochem, son of Rachel! wilt thou serve the Romans? Wilt thou serve the Emperor, whose forefathers destroyed the holy city of Zion, and reduced the Temple of the Lord to ashes? Wilt thou build a house for the erring faith, thou, the son of the pious Manasseh? Woe, woe to thee!" "Why callest thou 'woe,' and knowest not wherefore? Canst thou smell whether a gold piece comes from the hand of a Jew or from that of a Christian? Does it not weigh as heavily and shine as brightly?" "Son of Manasseh, thou canst not serve God and Mammon." "But thou thyself art a servant of the unbelievers! Do I not see the warder's keys on the walls of thy chamber? Dost thou not keep them for these Goths, and openest the doors for their outgoing and incoming, and guardest the castle of their strength?" "Yes, I do so," said the old man proudly; "and I will watch for them faithfully, day and night, like a dog for its master; and as long as Isaac lives, no enemy of their nation shall enter these gates. For the children of Israel owe fervent thanks to them and to their great King, who was as wise as Solomon and as mighty as Gideon! We owe them such thanks as our forefathers owed to Cyrus, who freed them from the Babylonian captivity. The Romans destroyed the Temple of the Lord, and scattered His people over the face of the earth. They have mocked and beaten us, and burnt our holy places, and plundered our towns, and defiled our houses, and forced our wives, all over this land, and have made many a cruel law against us. But there came this great King from the North, whose seed may Jehovah bless! and he rebuilt our synagogues, and where the Romans had destroyed them, they were obliged to rebuild them with their own hands and their own money. He protected our homes, and whoever injured an Israelite was punished as if he had offended a Christian. He left us our God and our belief, and protected our commerce, and we celebrated the Paschal in such joy and peace as we had never known since the time when the Temple still stood upon Zion. And when a Roman noble had taken my Sarah from me by force, King Theodoric ordered that his proud head should be struck off that very day, and gave me back my wife unhurt. This I will remember as long as my days endure, and I will serve the nation faithfully till death, and once again it shall be said far and wide: as faithful and true as a Jew!" "Mayst thou not reap ingratitude where thou sowest gratitude," said Jochem, preparing to go; "it seems to me that the time will come, when I shall again sue for Miriam--for the last time. Perhaps, father Isaac, thou wilt then be less proud." And he went through Miriam's chamber and down the steps, where he met Totila. With an ungracious bow and a piercing look, the little man pressed past the slender Goth, who was obliged to stoop, as he entered the warder's dwelling. Miriam followed Totila immediately. "There hangs your gardener's dress," said she in a melodious voice, without raising her long lashes, "and here in the window I have placed the flowers ready. You said lately that she loved the white narcissus. I have taken care to procure some. They smell so sweet!" "You are a good little maiden, Miriam," said Totila, taking off his helmet with the silver-white swan's wings, and setting it upon the table. "Where is your father?" "The blessing of the Lord rest upon thy golden locks," said the old man, as he entered the room. "Good even, faithful Isaac!" cried Totila, taking off the long white mantle which hung from his shoulders, and enveloping himself in a brown cloak, which Miriam took down from the wall. "You good people! without you and your faithful silence, all Neapolis would know of my secret. How can I thank you!" "Thank?" said Miriam, fixing her beaming eyes upon him, "you have thanked us beforehand to all eternity!" "No, Miriam," said Totila, pulling a broad-brimmed brown felt hat low down upon his forehead, "that was nothing. Tell me, father Isaac, who is that little man who just went away, and whom I have often met here? It seems to me that he has cast his eyes upon Miriam. Speak frankly. If a dowry is wanting--I would gladly be of use." "Love is wanting--on her side," said Isaac quietly, "Then I can certainly do no good! But if her heart has chosen elsewhere--I should like to do something for my Miriam!" and he laid his hand gently upon the maiden's shining hair. The touch was but slight, but as if a flash of lightning had startled her, Miriam fell suddenly upon her knees. Her head sank upon her bosom, and, crossing her arms, she slipped down at Totila's feet like a flower heavy with dew. Totila drew back a step in surprise. But the next moment the girl had risen. "Forgive, it was only a rose--it fell at your feet," She placed the flower upon the table, and seemed so composed, that neither her father nor Totila thought further of the occurrence. "It is growing dark already; make haste, sir!" she said quietly, and gave him a basket containing flowers and plants. "I go. Valeria is very thankful for all your kindness. I have told her a great deal about you, and she has long wished to see you. Well, perhaps we can soon manage it--to-day is, probably, the last time that I shall need this disguise." "Do you mean to carry off the daughter of Edom?" cried the old man. "Bring her here! here she will be well hidden!" "No," interposed Miriam, "not here! no, no!" "Why not, thou strange child?" asked her father in a tone of annoyance. "This is no place for a bride--this chamber--it would bring her no blessing." "Be not uneasy," said Totila, as he went to the door, "I shall soon put an end to secrecy by sueing for her hand openly. Farewell!" He hastened out. Isaac took the spear, the horn, and several keys from the wall, and followed in order to open the gate for Totila, and make the round of all the doors of the great tower. Miriam remained alone. For a long time she stood with closed eyes motionless on the same spot. At last she passed both hands over her forehead and cheeks, and looked about her. The room was very quiet; through the open window stole the first beam of moonlight. It fell silvery upon Totila's white mantle, which hung in long folds over a chair. Miriam ran and covered the hem of the mantle with burning kisses. She took the glittering helmet, which stood near her upon the table, and pressed it tenderly to her heart with both arms. Then holding it a little way from her, she gazed upon it dreamily for a few moments, and, at last--she could not resist--she lifted it up and placed it upon her lovely head. She started as the heavy bronze touched her forehead, and then, stroking back her dark braids, she pressed the cold hard steel firmly upon her brow. She then took it off, and set it, looking shyly round, in its former place, and going to the window she looked out into the magic moonlight and the scented night-air. Her lips moved as if in prayer, but the words of the prayer were the same old song: "By the waters of Babylon We sat down and wept. O daughter of Zion, when comes the day Which stills thy heavy pain?" CHAPTER XXII. While Miriam was gazing silently at the first pale stars, Totila's impatience soon brought him to the villa of the rich trader, which lay at about an hour's distance from the Porta Capuana. The slave who kept the gate told him to go to the old Hortularius, Valeria's freedman, who had the care of the garden. This freedman had been admitted to the lovers' confidence, and now took the plants from the supposed gardener's boy, and led him into his sleeping-room, the low windows of which opened into the garden. The next day before sunrise--so taught the mysteries of ancient horticulture--the flowers must be planted, so that the first sunlight which shone upon them in the new soil should be that of the fresh morning. The young Goth waited impatiently in the narrow chamber for the hour at which Valeria would be able to leave her father after their evening meal. He drew aside the curtain which covered the window and again and again looked up at the sky, measuring the flight of time by the rising of the stars and the progress of the moon. The large garden before him lay bathed in its peaceful light. In the distance, the plashing of a fountain could be heard, and the cicadas chirped in the myrtles. The warm south wind blew sultry through the night, at times bearing clouds of sweet odour upon its wings; and, from the blooming grove at the end of the garden, the clear song of the nightingale filled the air with melody. At last Totila could wait no longer. He swung himself noiselessly over the marble sill of the window; the white sand of the narrow path scarcely grated beneath his rapid footsteps, as, avoiding the stream of moonlight, he hurried along under the shrubbery. On past the dark taxus-trees and the thick olive-groves; past the tall statue of Flora, whose white marble shone ghostly in the moonlight; past the large basin, where six marble dolphins spouted water high into the air; into the thick shrubbery of laurels and tamarinds, and, pressing through the oleanders, he stood before the stalactite grotto, in which a marble nymph of the spring leaned upon a large dark urn. As he entered, a white figure glided from behind the statue. "Valeria, my lovely rose!" cried Totila, ardently embracing her. "Leave me, leave me, my beloved!" she said, withdrawing from his arms. "No, sweet one! I will not leave you. How long, how painfully, I have missed you! Do you hear how sweetly and invitingly the nightingale calls? Inhale the warm air of the summer night and the intoxicating scent of the roses. All breathes joy and love! Oh, let us hold fast these golden hours! My soul cannot contain all its bliss! All thy beauty; all our youth; and this glowing, blooming summer night. Life rolls in mighty waves through my heart, and bursts it with delight!" "Oh, Totila, I would gladly lose myself, like you, in the happiness of these hours! But I cannot. The intoxicating perfume, the luxurious warmth of these summer nights are but transient; they breed misfortune. I cannot believe in the happiness of our love!" "Thou dear fool, why not?" "I know not. The unhappy doubt which troubles all my life spreads its curse even over our love. How gladly would I love and trust like you! But a warning voice in my heart ever repeats: 'It will not last--thou shalt not be happy!'" "Then, even in my arms, you are not happy?" "Yes, and no! The feeling of concealment from my noble father oppresses me. See, Totila, what makes me love you most is not your youthful beauty and strength, nor even your great love for me. It is my pride in your character, in your frank, unclouded and noble character. I have accustomed myself to see you walk through this dark world bright and strong as the God of Light. The noble courage, sure of victory; the enthusiasm and truth of your being, are my pride. That when you approach, all that is mean, little, and unholy must vanish from before you, is my delight. I love you as a mortal loves the Sun-god who approaches him in the fulness of his glory, and therefore I can endure nothing secret about you. Not even the delight of these hours--it is enjoyed by stealth, and that must no longer be----" "No, Valeria, and shall not! I feel exactly the same. I hate the lie of this disguise; I can bear it no longer! To-morrow I will throw it off and speak openly and freely to your father." "This decision is the best, for----" "For it saves your life, young man!" suddenly cried a deep voice, and from the dark background of the grotto a man came forth, in the act of sheathing his sword. "My father!" cried Valeria, startled, but with courageous composure. Totila put one arm round her. "Away, Valeria! leave the barbarian!" cried Valerius, stretching out his hand commandingly. "No, Valerius," cried Totila, pressing Valeria close to his breast; "henceforward her place is on my bosom!" "Audacious Goth!" "Hear me, Valerius, and be not angry with us for this deceit. You yourself heard that it was to end tomorrow." "Fortunately for you, I did. Warned by an old friend, I could still scarcely believe that my daughter--would deceive me. When I was compelled to believe my eyes, I was resolved that your life should pay for her fault. Your words saved you. But now go; you will never again see her face." Totila would have retorted angrily, but Valeria was beforehand. "Father," she said quietly, stepping between the two men, "listen to your child. I will not excuse my love, it needs no apology. It is as innocent and heavenly as are the stars. My love is the life of my life. You know me; truth is the air I breathe. By my soul! I will never leave this man!" "Nor I her!" cried Totila, and took her right-hand. The young couple stood erect before the old man in the bright moonlight, their noble features filled with sacred enthusiasm. They looked so beautiful that a softened feeling took possession of the angry father. "Valeria, my child!" "Oh, my father! you have led all my childish steps with such untiring love that till now I have scarcely missed, though I have deeply regretted, my lost mother. At this moment I miss her for the first time; for now I feel that I need her advocacy. At least let her memory plead for me. Let me bring her picture before you, and remind you of the time when, dying, she called you for the last time to her bedside, and, as you have often told me, confided to you my happiness as a holy legacy." Valerius pressed his right hand to his forehead; his daughter ventured to take the other; he did not repulse her. Evidently a struggle was going on in his mind. At last he spoke. "Valeria, without knowing it, you have pleaded strongly. It would be unjust to withhold from you a fact upon which you have mysteriously touched. Your mother's vow, which, however, we had long since annulled, still oppressed her soul. 'If our child,' she said, 'is not to be the bride of Heaven, at least swear to me to honour the freedom of her choice. I know how Roman girls, particularly in our rank of life, are given in marriage unasked, without love. Such an union is misery on earth and a sin before God. My Valeria will choose nobly; swear to me to give her to the husband of her choice, and to no other!'--and I Swore it. But to give my child to a barbarian, to an enemy of Italy! no, no!" And he broke from her grasp. "Perhaps I am not so barbarous, Valerius, as you think," began Totila. "At least I am the warmest friend of the Romans in all my nation. Believe me, I do not hate you; those whom I abhor are your worst enemies as well as ours--the Byzantines!" It was a happy speech, for in the heart of the old republican the hatred of Byzantium was the reverse side to his love of freedom and Italy. He was silent, but his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the youth. "My father," said Valeria, "your child could love no barbarian. Learn to know Totila; and if you still call him a barbarian--I will never become his. I ask nothing of you but this: learn to know him. Decide for yourself whether my choice be noble. He is beloved by all the Goths, and all men are friendly to him--surely you alone will not reject him?" Again she took her father's hand. "Oh, learn to know me, Valerius!" begged Totila earnestly, taking his other hand. The old man sighed. At length he said: "Come with me to your mother's grave, Valeria; there it is amongst the cypresses; there stands the urn containing her heart. Let us think of her--the noblest woman who ever lived--and appeal to her shade. And if your love prove to be true and well placed, then I will perform what I have promised." CHAPTER XXIII. A few weeks later, we find Cethegus in the well-known room containing the statue of Cæsar, together with our new acquaintance, Petros, the ambassador of the Emperor Justinian, or rather of the Empress. The two men had shared a simple meal and had emptied a flask of old Massikian together, exchanging reminiscences of past times--they had been fellow-students, as we already know--and had just left the dinner-room for the study of Cethegus, in order, undisturbed by the attendants, to talk over more confidential affairs. "As soon as I had convinced myself," said Cethegus, concluding his account of late events, "that the alarming reports from Ravenna were only rumours--perhaps inventions, and, at all events, exaggerated--I opposed the utmost coolness to the excitement and zeal of my friends. Lucius Lucinius, with his fiery temper and foolish enthusiasm, almost spoilt everything. He repeatedly demanded that I should accept the office of Dictator, and literally put his sword to my breast, shouting that I should be compelled to serve the fatherland. He let out so many secrets, that it was fortunate the dark Corsican--who seems to stick to the Goths, no one knows why--took him to be more drunk than he really was. At last news came that Amalaswintha had returned, and so people and Senate gradually became more calm." "And you," said Petros, "have saved Rome for the second time from the revenge of the barbarians--a service which can never be forgotten, and for which all the world, but most of all the Queen, must thank you." "The Queen--poor woman!" answered Cethegus, shrugging his shoulders. "Who knows how long the Goths, or your imperial master at Byzantium, will leave her upon her throne?" "What! You mistake entirely!" interrupted Petros eagerly. "My embassy was intended, above all other things, to support her government; and I was just upon the point of asking your advice," he added cunningly, "as to how this can best be done." But the Prefect leaned back his head against the marble wall, and looked with a smile at the ambassador. "Oh, Petros! oh, Peter!" he said. "Why so secret? I thought we knew each other better." "What do you mean?" asked the Byzantine, embarrassed. "I mean that we have not studied law and history together at Berytus and Athens in vain. I mean that at that time we already, while working together and exchanging our wise thoughts, came to the conclusion that the Emperor must drive out these barbarians, and rule again in Rome as he does in Byzantium. And as I think now just as I did then, you also will surely not have become a different man." "I must subject my views to those of my master; and Justinian----" "Naturally burns to rule in Italy." "But certainly," said Petros, much embarrassed, "cases might occur----" "Peter," said Cethegus, now rising indignantly, "use no phrases and no lies with me; they do no good. See, Petros, this is your old fault; you are ever too cunning to be wise. You think that you must always lie, and are never courageous enough to be truthful. How can you pretend to me that the Emperor does not mean to have Italy again? Whether he will uphold or overthrow the Queen depends upon whether he thinks he will reach his goal more easily with or without her. What his opinion is I am not to know. But, in spite of all your cunning, the next time we meet I will tell you to your face what he intends to do." A wicked and bitter smile played upon the ambassador's thin lips. "Still as proud as ever you were in the schools of logic at Athens," he said spitefully. "Yes; and at Athens, you know, I was always the first, Procopius the second, and you came third." Syphax just then entered the room. "A veiled woman, sir," he said, "awaits you in the Hall of Jupiter." Glad that the conversation was thus interrupted, for he did not feel capable of arguing with the Prefect, Petros said, with a grin: "I wish you joy of such an interruption." "Yes, for your own sake," answered Cethegus, smiling; and left the room. "You shall one day repent your sarcasm, haughty man!" thought the Byzantine. In the hall--which received the name of Jupiter from a beautiful statue, sculptured by Glycon of Athens--Cethegus found a woman, clad richly in the Gothic costume. On his entrance, she threw back the cowl of her brown mantle. "Princess Gothelindis!" cried the Prefect in surprise. "What leads you to me?" "Revenge!" she answered, in a hoarse voice, and advanced towards him. Her features were sharp, but not plain; she would even have been called beautiful, but that her left eye was utterly destroyed, and the whole of her left cheek disfigured by a long scar. The wound seemed to bleed afresh as her cheeks flushed while pronouncing the angry word. Such deadly hatred shone from her grey eye, that Cethegus involuntarily retreated. "Revenge?" he asked. "On whom?" "On--of that later. Forgive that I disturb you," she added, composing herself. "Your friend Petros of Byzantium is with you, is he not?" "Yes; but how do you know?" "Oh! I saw him enter your door before supper," she answered, with assumed indifference. "That is not true," said Cethegus to himself; "for he was brought in by the garden-gate. So they have made an appointment here, and I was not to know it. What can they want with me?" "I will not keep you long," continued Gothelindis. "I have only one question to ask of you. Answer briefly, 'yes' or 'no.' I have the power to ruin that woman--the daughter of Theodoric--and I have the will. Are you for me in this, or against me?" "Oh! friend Petros," thought the Prefect. "Now I already know what you intend to do with Amalaswintha. But we will see how far you have gone.--Gothelindis," he said aloud, "I readily believe that you wish to ruin the Gothic Queen; but I doubt if you can do so." "Listen to me, and then decide whether I can or no. The woman has caused the three dukes to be murdered." Cethegus shrugged his shoulders. "Many people think that." "But I can prove it." "You don't say so?" exclaimed Cethegus incredulously. "Duke Thulun, as you know, did not die immediately. He was attacked on the Æmilian Way, near my villa at Tannetum. My husbandmen found him and brought him into my house. You know that he was my cousin--I belong to the Balthe family. He died in my arms." "Well, and what said the sick man in his fever?" "Fever! Nothing of the sort! As Duke Thulun fell, he wounded his murderer, who was not able to fly far. My husbandmen sought for him, and found him dying in the nearest wood. He confessed everything to me." Cethegus imperceptibly compressed his lips. "Well? What was he? What did he say?" "He was an Isaurian mercenary," said Gothelindis sharply, "an overlooker of the works on the ramparts at Rome, and he said, 'Cethegus, the Prefect, sent me to the Queen, and the Queen sent me to Duke Thulun!'" "Who heard his confession besides you?" asked Cethegus. "No one. And no one shall know of this, if you stand by me. But if not, then----" "Gothelindis," interrupted the Prefect, "no threats! They are of no use. You must comprehend that they can only aggravate, but not control me. In case of need, I would allow it to come to an open accusation. You are known as the bitter enemy of Amalaswintha, and your evidence alone--you were imprudent enough to confess that no one else heard the declaration of the dying man--would ruin neither her nor me. You cannot force me to act against the Queen; at the most, you could persuade me, if you can show that it would be to my advantage. And to do this, I myself will propose an ally to you. You certainly know Petros, my friend?" "Very well; long since." "Permit me to fetch him to this conference." He returned to his study. "Petros, my visitor is the Princess Gothelindis, the wife of Theodahad. She wishes to speak to both of us. Do you know her?" "I? oh no. I have never seen her," answered Petros quickly. "'Tis well; follow me." As soon as they entered the hall, Gothelindis cried out: "Welcome, old friend! What a surprising meeting!" Petros was dumb. Cethegus, his hands clasped behind his back, enjoyed the confusion of the Byzantine. "Do you see, Petros? always too cunning, always unnecessary subtleties! But come, do not be so cast down by the discovery of a trick. So you two have combined together for the Queen's ruin. You wish to persuade me to help you. But before doing so, I must know your intentions exactly. Whom will you place upon Amalaswintha's throne? For the way is not yet open for Justinian." Both were silent for some moments. His clear perception of the situation surprised them. At last Gothelindis spoke: "Theodahad, my husband, the last of the Amelungs." "Theodahad, the last of the Amelungs," Cethegus repeated slowly. Meanwhile, he considered all the advantages and disadvantages of this plan. He reflected that Theodahad, unloved by the Goths, and raised to the throne by Petros, would soon be entirely in the power of the Byzantines, and that the catastrophe would be brought about in a different manner and earlier than he intended. He reflected that he must at all events keep the armies of the East Romans at a distance for the longest possible time, and he decided to keep up the present state of things and support Amalaswintha, because thus he would gain time for his preparations. All this he had thought over, weighed, and decided upon, in a few moments. "And how will you commence proceedings?" he asked gravely. "We shall desire the Queen to abdicate in favour of my husband, threatening, in case of refusal, to accuse her of murder." "And if she runs the risk?" "We will carry out our threat," said Petros, "and raise a storm amongst the Goths, which will----" "Cost her her life!" cried Gothelindis. "Perhaps cost her her throne," said Cethegus, "but hardly give it to Theodahad. No, if the Goths are allowed to _choose_ a king, he will not bear the name of 'Theodahad.'" "That is too true," said Gothelindis angrily. "Then there might easily come a king who would be much less welcome to us all than Amalaswintha. And therefore I tell you openly, I am not on your side; I will uphold the Queen." "Then there is war between us," cried Gothelindis grimly, and turned towards the door. "Come, Petros." "Softly, friends," said the Byzantine. "Perhaps Cethegus will change his mind when he has read this paper," and he gave the Prefect the letter which Alexandros had brought from Amalaswintha to Justinian. Cethegus read; his features darkened. "Well," said Petros sarcastically, "will you still support the Queen, who has vowed your ruin? Where would you be if she carried out her plan, and your friends did not watch over you?" Cethegus scarcely listened to him. "Pitiful fellow," he thought, "as if it were that! as if the Queen were not quite right! as if I could blame her for it! But the imprudent woman has already done what I only feared from Theodahad. She has ruined herself, and frustrated all my plans; she has already called the Byzantines into the country, and now they will come, whether she will or no. As long as Amalaswintha reigns, Justinian will play the part of her protector." And now he turned, in seeming consternation, to the ambassador, and, giving him the letter back, asked: "And if she carries out her intention, when could your troops land?" "Belisarius is already on the way to Sicily," said Petros, proud of having abashed the Prefect; "in a week he can anchor before Portus." "Unheard of!" cried Cethegus, this time in real dismay. "You see," said Gothelindis, who had meanwhile read the letter, "those whom you would uphold wish to ruin you. Be beforehand with them." "In the name of my Emperor," said Petros, "I summon you to help me to destroy this kingdom of the Goths, and to restore to Italy her freedom. You and your talent are valued as they ought to be at the Emperor's court, and, after the victory, Justinian promises you--the dignity of a senator at Byzantium." "Is it possible?" cried Cethegus. "But not even this highest; of honours drives me with such eagerness into your plans as my indignation against the ungrateful Queen, who in reward for all my services, threatens my life.--But are you sure?" he asked anxiously, "that Belisarius will not land at once?" "Do not be uneasy," answered Petros; "it is my hand that will beckon, when it is time. First, Amalaswintha must be replaced by Theodahad." "That is well," thought Cethegus; "with time all is won, and the Byzantines shall not land until I can receive them at the head of Italy in arms.--I am yours," he added aloud, turning to Gothelindis, "and I think I can bring Amalaswintha to set the crown upon your husband's head with her own hands. She shall resign the sceptre." "The Queen will never do that!" cried Gothelindis. "Perhaps! Her generosity is still greater than her ambition. It is possible to ruin one's enemies through their virtues," said Cethegus thoughtfully. "I am now sure of the thing, and I greet you, Queen of the Goths!" he concluded, with a slight bow. CHAPTER XXIV. After the removal of the three dukes, Amalaswintha had maintained an expectant attitude. Although by the fall of the heads of the aristocratic opposition she had obtained some freedom of action, yet the National Assembly at Regeta, near Rome, was soon to be held, when she must either completely exculpate herself from all suspicion of murder, or lose her crown, and perhaps her life. Only until the assembly had taken place did Witichis and his adherents promise her their protection. She therefore made every effort to strengthen her position before the decisive moment arrived. She hoped nothing more from Cethegus; she had seen through his selfish motives. But she hoped that the Italians and the conspirators of the Catacombs, at the head of whose members her own name figured, would prefer her rule, so friendly to the Romans, to that of a king who belonged to the Gothic national party. She ardently longed for the arrival of the body-guard from the Emperor, which would protect her in the first moment of danger; and she was zealously employed in increasing the number of her friends amongst the Goths themselves. She invited many of her father's old followers--zealous adherents of the Amelungs, grey old warriors of great influence with the people, brothers-at-arms and almost play-fellows of old Hildebrand--to return to Ravenna; particularly the white-bearded Grippa, Theodoric's cupbearer, whose fame was scarcely less influential than that of the old master-at-arms. She overwhelmed him and his comrades with honours, confided the castle of Ravenna to their care, and made them swear to keep faith with the Amelung family. As this connection with popular names was to form a sort of counterbalance to the influence of Witichis, Hildebrand and their friends--and Witichis could not justly prevent her from distinguishing the old friends of Theodoric with honours--so the Queen also looked about for aid against the family of the Balthes and their revenge. With sharp discernment she perceived that this could best be procured from the Wölfungs, whose family possessed great influence and riches in central Italy. At that time the heads of this family were two brothers, Duke Guntharis and Earl Arahad. To win their alliance she had thought of a peculiarly effective means. For the friendship of the Wölfungs she would offer no less a price than the hand of her beautiful daughter. In a richly decorated room at Ravenna the mother and daughter were engaged in an earnest but not amicable conversation on this subject. The Queen was measuring the narrow apartment with hasty steps; all her usual repose of manner gone. She frequently threw an angry look at the beautiful girl, who, leaning against a marble table, stood quietly before her with downcast eyelids. "Reflect well," cried Amalaswintha angrily, and suddenly standing still, "reflect once more! I give you three days' time." "It is in vain. I shall always speak as I have done to-day," said Mataswintha without raising her eyes. "Then tell me, what have you to say against Earl Arahad?" "Nothing, except that I cannot love him." The Queen did not seem to hear her. "This is quite a different case from the other, when we would have had you marry Cyprianus," she said. "He was old and--which perhaps in your eyes was a greater disadvantage," she added bitterly--"a Roman." "And yet I was banished to Tarentum because I refused him." "I hoped that severity would have induced you to change your mind. For months I kept you away from my court, from my motherly heart." A bitter smile curled Mataswintha's lovely mouth. "In vain," continued the Queen. "I now call you back----" "You err. My brother Athalaric called me back!" "I now offer you another husband. Young, handsome, a Goth of the purest nobility, his rank is at this moment the second in the kingdom. You know, at least you suspect, how sorely my throne, surrounded by enemies, needs protection. He and his powerful brother promise us the help of their whole army. Earl Arahad loves you, and you, you refuse him! Tell me why?" "Because I do not love him." "A girl's stupid speech! You are a King's daughter; you ought to sacrifice yourself to your rank, to your kingdom." "I am a woman," answered Mataswintha, raising her sparkling eyes, "and will sacrifice my heart to no power in heaven or on earth!" "And thus speaks my daughter? Look at me, foolish child. I have striven after great things, and have attained much. As long as men admire what is great, they will name my name. I have won all that life can offer, and yet I never----" "Loved! I know it," sighed her daughter. "You know it?" "Yes; it was the curse of my childhood! I was indeed still a child when my father died. I knew not how to express it, but even then I could feel that his heart missed something, when, sighing deeply, he embraced Athalaric and me, and sighed again. And I loved him all the more tenderly because I felt that he sought love most where it was wanting. Now indeed I know what then I could not explain to myself. You became our father's wife, because, after Theodoric, he stood next to the throne. Ambition, and not love, led you to his arms, and you could only give cold pride in return for his warm affection." Amalaswintha was startled, and stopped again in her restless walk. "You are very bold!" she said. "I am your daughter----" "You speak of love so familiarly--you seem to know it at twenty better than I at fifty. You love!" she cried suddenly, "and thence comes this obstinacy!" Mataswintha blushed and was silent. "Speak," cried her angry mother; "confess it or deny it." Mataswintha cast down her eyes and still kept silence. She had never looked more beautiful. "Will you deny the truth? Are you afraid, you, a daughter of the Amelungs?" The girl proudly raised her eyes. "I am not afraid and I do not deny the truth. Yes, I love." "And whom, unhappy girl?" "Not even a god could force me to tell that!" She looked so decided that Amalaswintha did not attempt to learn more. "Well," she said, "my daughter has no common nature. So I demand of you what is uncommon: to sacrifice all to the highest." "Mother, I cherish a noble dream in my heart. To me it is the highest. To it I will sacrifice all." "Mataswintha," said the Queen, "how unqueenly! See, God has blessed you above thousands with beauty of body and mind. You are born to be a queen." "I will be a queen of love. All praise my beauty. I have proposed to myself, loving and beloved, happy and bestowing happiness, to be a true woman!" "A woman? is that all your ambition?" "It is. Oh, would it had been yours!" "And the realm is nothing to you, the grandchild of Theodoric? Your nation, the Goths, are they of no account?" "No, mother," said Mataswintha quietly; "it grieves me, it almost makes me ashamed, but I cannot pretend what I do not feel. The word 'Goth' arouses no sentiment in me. Perhaps it is not my fault; you have always despised these Goths and valued these 'barbarians' lightly; that was my first impression; it is enduring. And I hate this crown, this kingdom of the Goths; it has taken the place of my father, of my brother, and of myself in your heart! The Gothic crown has never been anything to me but a hated and inimical power." "Oh, my child, woe to me if I am guilty of this! If you will not do it for the sake of our kingdom, oh, do it for my sake! I am lost without these Wölfungs. Do it for the sake of my love!" And she took her daughter's hand. Mataswintha drew back with a bitter smile: "Mother, do not blaspheme that holy name! Your love? You have never loved me. Nor my brother, nor my father." "My child! What should I have loved if not you?" "The crown, mother, and the hated monarchy! How often have you repulsed me before Athalaric's birth, because I was a girl, and you wished for a crown-prince. Think of my father's grave and of----" "Cease!" cried Amalaswintha. "And Athalaric? Have you ever loved him? Have you not rather loved his right to the throne? Oh, how often have we poor children wept, when we sought the mother and found the Queen!" "You never complained to me! you do it only now, when I ask you for the sacrifice----" "Mother, even now it was not for yourself, only for your crown and throne. Put off the crown and you are free from all care. It has brought us no happiness, only pain. You are not threatened--I would sacrifice everything for you--but only your throne, only the golden diadem, the idol of your heart, the curse of my life! Never will I sacrifice my love to this hated crown, never, never, never!" And she crossed her white arms over her bosom as if she would protect her love thus from all assailers. "Ha!" cried the Queen indignantly, "selfish, heartless child! you confess that you have no feeling for your people, no pride in the crown of your great ancestors! You will not voluntarily obey the voice of honour; well then, obey force! You deny my love? then feel my severity! You will leave Ravenna at once with your attendants. You will go to Florentia, as the guest of Duke Guntharis; his wife has invited you. Earl Arahad will accompany you on your journey. Leave me. Time will bend your stubborn will!" "No power can do that," said Mataswintha, proudly raising her head, and she left the room. The Queen looked after her silently. Her daughter's reproofs had made a greater impression upon her than she was willing to allow. "Ambition?" she said to herself. "No, it is not that which fills my soul. I feel that I could protect my realm and render it happy, and truly I could sacrifice my life, as well as my crown, if the well-being of my nation demanded it. Could I not?" she asked herself, doubtfully laying her hand upon her heart. She was roused from her reverie by Cassiodorus, who entered with bent head and slow steps. "Well," said Amalaswintha, struck by the sad expression of his face, "do you come to tell me of a misfortune?" "No; only to ask a question." "What question?" "Queen," the old man solemnly commenced, "I have served you and your father faithfully for thirty years. I, a Roman, have served the barbarians, for I honoured your virtues, and believed that Italy, no longer capable of self-government, would flourish best under your rule, for your rule was just and mild. I continued to serve you, even when the blood of my best friends--and, as I believe, the most innocent blood--was shed. But they died by law, and not by treachery. I was obliged to honour your father, even where I could not praise him. But now----" "Now? but now?" repeated the Queen proudly. "I come now to beg from my friend, may I say my scholar----" "You may," answered the Queen, softened. "To beg great Theodoric's noble daughter to speak one single word, a 'yes.' If you can say this 'yes.'--and I pray to God that you can--then I will serve you as faithfully as ever, so long as my grey hairs are spared." "And if not?" "And if not, O Queen," answered the old man sadly--"oh, then farewell to you, and to my last joy in this world!" "What have you to ask?" "Amalaswintha, you know that I was far away on the northern frontiers of the realm, when the rebellion here broke out, when that terrible rumour arose, and that fearful accusation was made. I believed nothing--I hurried here from Tridentum--I arrived two days ago, and not an hour passes, not a Goth do I meet, but a terrible doubt falls heavily upon my heart. And you, too, are changed; restless, inconstant--and yet I cannot believe it. One sincere word of yours will dispel all these mists." "Why use so many words?" she cried, supporting herself on the arm of her chair. "Ask briefly what you have to ask." "Say but one simple 'yes.' Are you guiltless of the death of the three dukes?" "And if I were not, have they not richly deserved their fate?" "Amalaswintha--I beseech you--say 'yes.'" "You take a very sudden interest in the Gothic rebels!" "I beseech you," cried the old man, falling on his knees, "daughter of Theodoric, say 'yes,' if you can!" "Rise!" she cried, turning away with a frown. "You have no right to question me thus." "No," said the old man quietly, and rising from his knees. "No, not now. From this moment I no longer belong to this world." "Cassiodorus!" cried the Queen, alarmed. "Here are the keys of my rooms in the palace. There you will find all the gifts that I have received from you and Theodoric; the documents which assert my dignities, and my seals of office. I go!" "Whither, my old friend, oh, whither?" "To the cloister which I founded at Squillacium, in Apulia. Henceforward, far from kings and their deeds, I shall only do God's work upon earth. My soul has long since panted for peace, and now I have nothing left on earth that is dear to me. Accept once more my advice at parting: put away the sceptre from your blood-stained hands. You can bless this realm no longer, you can only bring a curse upon the nation. Think of the salvation of your soul, and may God be gracious to you!" And before the Queen could recover from her consternation, he had disappeared. She would have hurried after him to call him back but she was met at the door by Petros, the ambassador. "Stay, Queen," he said in a low and rapid voice, "stay and hear me. I have no time to lose. I am followed." "Who follows you?" "People who do not mean so well by you as I do. Deceive yourself no more; the fate of the kingdom is decided; you can hinder it no longer, so save for yourself what you can. I repeat my proposal." "What proposal?" "You heard it yesterday." "That treacherous advice! Never! I shall report it to your master, the Emperor, and beg him to recall you. With you I will confer no more." "Queen, this is not the moment to spare you. The next ambassador of Justinian is called Belisarius, and he will come with an army!" "Impossible!" cried the forsaken Queen. "I recall my petition." "Too late. The fleet of Belisarius already lies off Sicily. The proposal which you thought came from me you have rejected. Learn that the Emperor, and not I, was the propounder, and meant it as a last token of his favour." "Justinian, my friend, my protector, would thus ruin me and my kingdom!" cried Amalaswintha, who began to see the terrible truth. "Not ruin you, but save you! He will re-conquer this Italy, the cradle of the Roman Empire. This unnatural, impossible kingdom of the Goths is condemned and lost. Leave the sinking ship. Justinian reaches out to you a friendly hand, and the Empress offers you an asylum, if you will deliver Neapolis, Rome, Ravenna, and all the fortresses into the hands of Belisarius, and consent that the Goths shall be led, disarmed, over the Alps." "Wretched man! Shall I betray my people as you have betrayed me? Too late I see your schemes; I came to you for help, and you will destroy me!" "Not you, only the barbarians." "These barbarians are my people; they are my only friends! I see it now, and will stand by them to the death." "But they will not stand by you." "Insolent! Out of my sight! Leave my court!" "You will not listen? Reflect, O Queen! only on this condition can I answer for your life." "My people in arms shall answer for my life!" "Hardly. For the last time I ask you----" "Be silent! I will not give up my crown to Justinian without a struggle." "Well, then," said Petros to himself, "another must, do it. Enter!" he called aloud at the entrance. But Cethegus alone appeared from behind the curtain. "Where is Gothelindis? Where is Theodahad?" whispered Petros. "I left them outside the palace. The two women hate each other too bitterly. Their passion would spoil all." "You are not my good angel, Prefect of Rome," said Amalaswintha, turning away from him gloomily, as he approached. "This time perhaps I am," whispered Cethegus, going close up to her. "You have rejected the proposals from Byzantium, as I expected you would. Dismiss that false Greek." At a sign from the Queen, Petros retired into an ante-room. "What would you with me, Cethegus? I trust you no longer." "You have trusted the Emperor instead of me, and you see the consequences." "I do indeed," she answered in deep grief. "Queen, I have never deceived you in this: that I love Italy and Rome more than the Goths. You will remember that I never concealed it from you." "I know it, and do not blame you." "My dearest wish is to see Italy free. In order to keep the Emperor off, I would uphold your government; but I tell you openly that there is now no hope of this. If you proclaim war against Byzantium, the Goths will no more obey or the Italians trust you." "And why not? What separates me from the Italians and my people?" "Your own acts: two unfortunate documents, which, are in Justinian's hands. You yourself first called his arms into Italy--a body-guard from Byzantium!" Amalaswintha grew pale. "You know----" "Unfortunately not I alone, but my friends, the conspirators of the Catacombs. Petros showed them, the letter, and they call down curses upon you." "Then my Goths, at least, remain to me!" "No longer. Not alone do the adherents of the Balthes seek your life; but the conspirators of Rome have sworn, as soon as war breaks out, to announce to all the world that your name stands at the head of their conspiracy against the Goths--against your own nation! The document, with your signature, is in my hands no longer; it lies in the archives of the conspirators." "Faithless man!" "How could I know that you treated with Byzantium behind my back, and thus made enemies of my friends? You see that Byzantium, the Goths, and Italy are all against you. If the war break out under your direction, division will run rife in Italy. No one will obey you, and the kingdom will fall helpless into the hands of Belisarius. Amalaswintha, there must be a sacrifice! I demand it of you in the name of Italy, in the name of your people and of mine." "What sacrifice? I consent to any." "The greatest sacrifice--your crown. Give it to a man who is capable of uniting the Goths and Italians against Byzantium, and save both nations." Amalaswintha looked at him searchingly. A terrible struggle took place in her soul. "My crown? It is very dear to me," she said. "I always held Amalaswintha capable of any sacrifice." "Dare I place confidence in your advice?" "If it were sweet, you might doubt it; if I flattered your pride you might mistrust me. But I offer you the bitter cup of renunciation. I appeal to your generosity and courage. Make me not ashamed." "Your last advice was a crime," cried Amalaswintha, shuddering. "I preserved your throne by every possible means as long as it could be upheld, as long as it was necessary for Italy; and I now demand that you should love your people more than your sceptre." "By God! there you do not err. For my people I have not hesitated to sacrifice the lives of others"--she gladly dwelt on this thought, which appeased her conscience--"and I shall not refuse now to sacrifice my personal ambition. But who will be my successor?" "Your heir, to whom the crown belongs--Theodahad, the last of the Amelungs." "What! that feeble creature?" "He is no hero, it is true; but heroes will obey the nephew of Theodoric if you place him on the throne. And, consider, his Roman education has won the Italians for him; they will stand by him. They would both fear and hate a king after Hildebrand's heart." "And rightly," answered the Queen reflectively. "But Gothelindis, Queen!" Cethegus came nearer, and looked keenly into her eyes. "Amalaswintha is not so mean as to nourish a pitiful feminine enmity when there is need of a noble resolve. You have ever appeared to me nobler than your sex. Now prove it, and decide." "Not now," said Amalaswintha. "My head burns and my brain is confused. Let me alone to-night. You believe me capable of self-sacrifice. I thank you for that at least. To-morrow I will decide." BOOK III. THEODAHAD. "It seemed to Theodahad that to have neighbours was a kind of misfortune."--_Procopius: Wars of the Goths_, i. 3. CHAPTER I. The morning after the events before described, a manifesto announced to the astonished inhabitants of Ravenna that the daughter of Theodoric had resigned the crown in favour of her cousin Theodahad, the last male scion o£ the House of Amelung. Italians and Goths were summoned to swear the oath of allegiance to their new sovereign. Cethegus had judged rightly. Amalaswintha had felt her conscience oppressed by many a folly, and even by deadly sin. Noble natures seek consolation and atonement in sacrifice and self-denial; and the unhappy woman had been much affected by the reproaches of her daughter and Cassiodorus; therefore the Prefect had found her in a mood favourable for the reception of his advice. The very bitterness of this advice induced her to follow it; indeed, to save her people and expiate her guilt, she would even have endured much greater humiliation. The change of dynasty was accomplished without difficulty. The Italians at Ravenna were in nowise prepared for rebellion, and Cethegus fed them with hopes of a more favourable opportunity. Besides this, the new King was known and liked by them as a friend of Roman civilisation. The Goths, however, did not seem inclined to submit to the change without more ado. Prince Theodahad was certainly a man--that was in his favour and an Amelung, which last circumstance weighed heavily; but he was by no means esteemed. Cowardly and unmartial, effeminate in body and mind, he had none of the qualities which the Germans require in their kings. One sole passion filled his soul--avarice, insatiable love of gold. Though very rich, he was constantly engaged in mean quarrels with his neighbours in Tuscany. He well understood the art of increasing his estates by force and cunning, and the weight of his royal rank, and how to wrest their property from his neighbours; "for," says an author of that period, "it seemed to Theodahad that to have neighbours was a kind of misfortune." At the same time, his weak nature was entirely subject to that of his wicked but strong-minded wife. For all these reasons, the worthiest members of the Gothic nation saw the accession of such a man to the throne of Theodoric with great dislike; and the manifesto had scarcely been published, when Earl Teja, who had shortly before returned to Ravenna with Hildebad, summoned the old master-at-arms and Witichis, and invited them to arouse and direct the discontent of the people, and to set a more worthy man in Theodahad's place. "You know," he concluded his exhortation, "how favourable is the temper of the people. Since the night of our meeting in the Temple of Mercury, we have incessantly stirred up the nation, and have succeeded in many of our efforts. The noble self-assertion of Athalaric, the victory of the Feast of Epiphany, the prevention of Amalaswintha's escape was all our work. Now a favourable opportunity offers. Shall a man who is weaker than a woman step into a woman's place? Have we no more worthy man than Theodahad amongst us?" "He is right, by Thor and Woden!" cried Hildebad. "Away with these weak Amelungs! Raise a hero upon our shield, and hit about on all sides! Away with the Amelungs!" "No," said Witichis calmly; "not yet. Perhaps it will come to that at last; but it must not happen sooner than is necessary. The Amelungs have a great party. Theodahad would never part with the riches, nor Gothelindis with the power of the crown without a struggle; they are strong enough, if not for victory, at least for battle. But strife between brothers is terrible. Necessity alone can justify it; and, at present, that does not exist. Theodahad may try; he is weak, and may easily be led. There is time enough to act if he prove incapable." "Who knows if then there will be time?" said Teja warningly. "What dost thou advise, old man?" asked Hildebad, upon whose mind the remarks of Witichis had not been without effect. "Brothers," answered Hildebrand, stroking his long beard, "you have the choice, and therefore are plagued with doubt. I am spared both, for I am bound. The King's old followers have sworn an oath that, as long as a member of his House lives, they will allow no stranger to occupy the throne." "What a foolish oath!" cried Hildebad. "I am old, and yet I do not call it foolish. I know what a blessing rests upon the great and sacred law of inheritance; and the Amelungs are descended from the gods!" he added mysteriously. "Theodahad is a fine child of the gods!" laughed Hildebad. "Be silent!" cried the old man angrily. "You modern men understand this no longer. You think you can fathom everything with your miserable reason. The mystery, the secrecy, the magic that lies in blood--for this you have lost all sense. Therefore I have held my peace about such things. But you cannot change me, with my near a hundred years. Do what you like; I shall do what I must." "Well," said Earl Teja, yielding, "upon thy head be the responsibility. But when this last Amelung is no more----" "Then the followers of Theodoric are free from their oath." "Perhaps," said Witichis, "it is fortunate that your oath spares us the choice, for we certainly wish for no ruler whom thou canst not acknowledge. Let us then go and pacify the people; and let us bear with this King as long as it is possible." "But not an hour longer!" cried Teja, and went away in anger. CHAPTER II. The very same day Theodahad and Gothelindis were crowned with the ancient crown of the Goths. A splendid banquet, at which all the Roman and Gothic dignitaries of the court and city were present, enlivened the old palace and the usually quiet gardens, with which we have become acquainted as the scene of Athalaric's and Camilla's loves. The revel lasted until deep into the night. The new King, no friend of the cup, or of barbaric revelry, had retired early. Gothelindis, on the contrary, sunned herself in the glory of her new rank. Proudly she sat upon her high seat, the golden circlet on her dark hair. She seemed all ear for the loud hurrahs with which, again and again, her own and her husband's names were greeted. But most of all she enjoyed the thought that these shouts would penetrate into the royal vault, where Amalaswintha, her hated and conquered rival, sat mourning by the sarcophagus of her son. Among the crowd of such guests as need only a full cup to make them merry, many a grave face was to be seen; many a Roman who would rather have seen the Emperor Justinian upon the throne at the head of the table; many a Goth who, in the present precarious condition of affairs, could not do homage to such a King as Theodahad without anxiety. To these last belonged Witichis, whose thoughts seemed far absent from the splendid scene around him. The golden cup before him stood untouched, and he scarcely noticed the loud exclamations of Hildebad, who sat opposite him. At last--the lamps were long since lit, and the stars stood in the sky--he rose and went into the greeny darkness of the garden. He slowly wandered through the taxus-walks, his eyes fixed upon the sparkling luminaries. His heart was with his wife, with his child, whom he had not seen for months. He wandered on unconsciously, until at last he came to the little Temple of Venus by the quay, with which we are already acquainted. He looked out over the gleaming sea. All at once something shining at his feet attracted his attention. It was the glittering of the moonlight upon a small Gothic harp, and upon a suit of mail. A man lay before him upon the soft grass, and a pale face was uplifted towards him. "Thou here, Teja? Thou wert not at the banquet?" "No; I was with the dead." "My thoughts, too, were absent; at home with wife and child," said Witichis. "With wife and child," repeated Teja, sighing. "Many asked after thee, Teja." "After me? Should I sit by Cethegus, who has robbed me of my honour, or by Theodahad, who took inheritance?" "Thine inheritance?" "At least he possesses it. And over the place where once stood my cradle he now drives his ploughshare." His head sank upon his breast, and both were silent. "And thy harp," at last said Witichis, "will it never be heard again? They praise thee as our nation's best minstrel!" "Like Gelimer, the last King of the Vandals, who was also the best singer of his nation.--But they shall never lead _me_ in triumph to Byzantium!" "Thou singest but seldom now?" "Seldom or never. But it seems to me time is coming when I shall sing again." "A time of joy?" "A time of deep and final sorrow." Again a long pause ensued. "My Teja," resumed Witichis, "I have ever found thee, in all trouble of peace or war, as true as steel. And although thou art so much younger than I--and an elder man does not lightly bind himself to a youth--I may call thee my best and bosom-friend. I know that thy heart cleaves to me more than to thy youthful companions." Teja took the speaker's hand and pressed it. "Yes, even when my ways perplex thee, thou withholdest not thy respect and sympathy. The others---- And yet, _one_ of them I love much!" "Whom?" "He whom all love." "Totila?" "Yes. I love him as the night loves the morning star. But he is so frank, that he cannot understand when others are, and must be, reserved." "Must be! Why? Thou knowest that curiosity is not my failing. And if, at this earnest moment, I beg thee to lift the veil from thy grief, I ask it only because I would gladly help and comfort thee, and because a friend's eye often sees more clearly than one's own." "Help? Help me? Canst thou awaken the dead? My pain is irrevocable as the past! Whoever has, like me, seen the unmerciful wheel of Fate roll, crushing everything before it, blind and dumb to all tenderness and nobleness; yea, even crushing what is noble more easily and readily, because it _is_ tender; whoever has acknowledged that a dull necessity, which fools call the wise providence of God, rules the universe and the life of mankind, is past all help and comfort! If once he has caught the sound, he hears for ever, with the sharp ear of despair, the monotonous rumble of the cruel, insensible wheel in the centre of the universe, which, at every revolution, indifferently produces or destroys life. Whoever has felt this, and lived through it, renounces all and for ever. For evermore, nothing can make him afraid. But certainly--he has also for ever forgotten the sweetness of a smile." "Thou makest me shudder! God forbid that I should ever entertain such a delusion! How hast thou acquired, so young, such terrible wisdom?" "Friend, by thought alone the truth cannot be reached; only the experience of life can teach it. And in order to understand what and how a man thinks, it is necessary to know his life. Therefore, that I may not appear to be an erring dreamer, or an effeminate weakling, who delights in nursing his sorrow--and in honour of thy trust and friendship--thou shalt hear a small portion of the cause of my grief. The larger part, by far the larger, I will keep to myself," he added, in evident pain, and pressing his hand to his heart. "The time for that will come too. But now thou shalt only hear how the Star of Misfortune, even at my birth, shone over my head. And amidst all the million stars above, this one alone remains faithful. Thou wert present--thou wilt remember--when the false Prefect taunted me before the whole assembly with being a bastard, and refused to fight with me. I was obliged to endure the insult. I am even worse than a bastard. My father, Tagila, was a famous hero, but no noble. Poor, and of low birth. He had loved, ever since his beard sprouted, the daughter of his father's brother, Gisa. She lived far away on the outermost eastern frontier of the realm; on the cold Ister, where continued battles raged with the Gepidæ and the wild Sarmatian hordes, and where a man has little time to think of the Church, or of the changing laws promulgated by her Conclaves. For a long time my father was not able to lead Gisa to his home; ha had nought but his helm and spear, and could not pay the tax, nor prepare a home for his wife. At last fortune smiled upon him. In the war against the Sarmatians, he conquered the king's stronghold on the Alutha, and the rich treasures which the Sarmatians had gained by years of plunder, and had there amassed, became his booty. In reward of his valour, Theodoric gave him the rank of earl, and called him to Italy. My father took with him Gisa, now become his wife, and all his treasure, and bought a large and beautiful estate in Tuscany, between Florentia and Luca. But his good fortune did not last long. Shortly after my birth, some miserable fellow, some cowardly rascal, accused my parents of incest before the Bishop of Florentia. They were Catholics, and not Arians--and brothers' children; their marriage was null in the eyes of the Church--and the Church ordered them to part. My father pressed his wife to his heart, and laughed at the order. But the secret accuser did not rest----" "Who was he?" "Oh, would that I knew it! I would reach him, even if he lived amid all the horrors of Vesuvius! The priests tormented my mother without cessation, and tried to alarm her conscience. In vain; she stood fast by her God and her husband, and defied the bishop and his messengers. And whenever my father met one of the priests upon his estate, he gave him such a welcome that he took care never to come again. But who can strive with those who speak in God's name! A last term was appointed; if, by that time, the disobedient couple had not separated, they were to be excommunicated, and their property forfeited to the Church. My father now hurried in despair to the King, to beg for the abolition of the terrible sentence. But the verdict of the Conclave was too clear, and Theodoric did not dare to offend the rights of the Orthodox Church. When my father returned from Ravenna, he stared in horror at the place where once his house had stood: the time had elapsed, and the threat had been fulfilled. His home was destroyed, his wife and child had disappeared. He madly sought for us all over Italy, and at last, disguised as a peasant, he discovered Gisa in a convent at Ticinum. They had torn her boy from her arms, and taken him to Rome. My father arranged everything for her flight from the convent; at midnight they escaped over the wall of the cloister garden. But the next morning the sisters missed their prisoner at the _hora_--her cell was empty. The convent servants followed the track of the horses--they were overtaken. Fighting desperately, my father fell; my mother was taken back to the convent. The pain of her loss and the severe discipline of the order had such a terrible effect upon her brain, that she went mad and died. Such was the fate of my parents." "And thou?" "I was discovered in Rome by old Hildebrand, who had been a brother-at-arms of my grandfather and father. With the King's assistance, he took me from the care of the priests, and brought me up with his own grandchildren in Regium." "And thy estate, thine inheritance?" "Was forfeited to the Church, which sold it, almost as a gift, to Theodahad. He was my father's neighbour; he is now my King!" "My poor friend! But what happened to you later? I have heard only rumours--thou hast been in Greece----" Teja rose. "Let me keep silence on that subject; perhaps another time. I was once fool enough to believe in happiness and the beneficence of a loving God. I have repented it bitterly. I shall never believe again. Farewell, Witichis, and do not blame Teja, if he be different from other men." He pressed the hand of his friend warmly; and quickly disappeared into the dark avenues of the garden. Witichis sat for a long time in silent thought. Then he looked up at the sky, seeking in the bright stars a contradiction of the gloomy thoughts which his friend's words had aroused in his mind. He longed for their peaceful and clear light. But during the conversation, clouds had risen rapidly from the lagoons, and covered the sky. All around was dark and dismal. With a sigh, Witichis arose, and filled with sad thoughts, sought his lonely couch. CHAPTER III. While Italians and Goths feasted and drank together in the halls on the ground-floor of the palace at Ravenna, they little suspected that above their heads, in the King's apartments, a negotiation was going on which was to determine the fate of the kingdom. The King had left the banquet early, and had retired to his rooms with the Byzantine ambassador, and, for a long time, the two were occupied in writing and consulting together. At last they seemed to have come to an agreement, and Petros was about once more to read what he had written, when the King interrupted him: "Stop," said the little man, who seemed almost lost in his royal robes, "stop--there is yet another thing." And he rose from his seat, softly crossed the room, and looked behind the curtain at the entrance to see if any were listening. Having reassured himself, he returned, and gently pulled the sleeve of the Byzantine. The light of the bronze lamp flickered in the draught, and fell upon the withered yellow cheeks of his ugly face, as he cunningly screwed up his already small eyes. "Yet another thing. If these wholesome changes are to be made, it would be well, indeed it is necessary, that some of the most daring of my barbarian subjects should be rendered incapable of opposition." "I have already thought of that," answered Petros. "There is that old half heathen, Hildebrand, that coarse Hildebad, and wise Witichis." "You seem to know men well," said Theodahad, "you have looked sharply about you. But," he added, "there is one whom you have not mentioned, one who must be got rid of more than any other." "And he?" "Is Earl Teja, the son of Tagila." "Is the melancholy dreamer so dangerous?" "More so than any of the others. Besides, he is my personal enemy, as was his father before him." "How so?" "His father was my neighbour at Florentia, I wanted his acres. In vain I pressed him to give them up. Ha, ha!" and Theodahad laughed, "they became mine at last! The holy Church dissolved his criminal marriage, confiscated his property, and let me have it cheap. I had deserved well of the Church during the process--your friend, the Bishop of Florentia; can tell you the particulars." "I understand," said Petros. "Why did not the barbarian give his acres up with a good will? Does Teja know?" "He knows nothing. But he hates me merely because I bought his inheritance. He looks black at me, and the gloomy dreamer is just the man to strangle an enemy at the very feet of God Himself." "Indeed?" said Petros, suddenly becoming very thoughtful. "Well, enough of him! He shall not hurt us. Let me read the treaty once more, point by point; afterwards you can sign it. 'First: King Theodahad resigns the sovereignty of Italy, and the subject islands and provinces of the Gothic kingdom, namely: Dalmatia, Liburnia, Istria, the second Pannonia, Savia, Noricum, Rhætia, and the Gothic provinces in Gaul, in favour of Emperor Justinian, and of his successors. He promises to deliver Ravenna, Rome, Neapolis, and all the fortresses in the kingdom, into the hands of the Emperor.'" Theodahad nodded. "'Secondly: King Theodahad will use all the means in his power to the end that the Gothic army shall be disarmed and led away, in small parties, over the Alps. The women and children will follow the army, or be taken as slaves to Byzantium, according to the decision of the imperial generals. The King will take care that any resistance on the part of the Goths shall be without result. Thirdly: in return, the Emperor Justinian leaves the titles and honours of royalty to King Theodahad and his spouse for their lifetime. And fourthly----'" "I will read this paragraph myself," interrupted Theodahad, and held out his hand for the document. "'Fourthly: the Emperor leaves to the King of the Goths not only all the lands and treasures which the latter possesses as private property, but the whole of the royal Gothic treasury, which alone is valued at forty thousand pounds of minted gold. Further, the Emperor assigns to Theodahad, as his property and inheritance, the whole of Tuscany, from Pistoria to Cære, from Populonia to Clusium; and lastly, he makes over to him for life the half of all the public revenues of the kingdom thus restored to its rightful sovereign.' Tell me, Petros, do not you think that I might demand three-fourths?" "You might certainly ask it, but I doubt exceedingly that Justinian would grant it. I have already overstepped the utmost limits of my power." "We will demand it, at all events," said the King, altering the figures, "then Justinian must either bargain for less, or grant additional privileges." A false smile played over the thin lips of the ambassador. "You are a clever negotiator, O King," he said. "But in this case you reckon wrongly," he added to himself. Just at this moment the rustle of trailing garments was heard in the marble corridor, and Amalaswintha entered, dressed in a long black mantle and a black veil sowed with silver stars. She was deadly pale, but composed and dignified; a Queen in spite of having lost her crown. Intense sorrow ennobled the expression of her countenance. "King of the Goths," she began, "forgive if a dark shadow suddenly rises from the realm of the dead to dim your joyous feast. It is for the last time." Both the men were struck by her appearance. "Queen," stammered Theodahad. "'Queen!' oh, would that I had never borne the name. I come, cousin, from the grave of my noble son, where I have acknowledged my infatuation, and repented of all my sins. I come to you, King of the Goths, to warn you against similar infatuation and similar guilt." Theodahad's unsteady eyes avoided her grave and searching looks. "It is an evil guest," she continued, "that I find here as your confidant at the hour of midnight. There is no safety for a prince except in his people. Too late I have found this out; too late for myself; not too late, I hope, for my people. Do not trust Byzantium; it is a shield that crushes him whom it should protect." "You are unjust," said Petros, "and ungrateful." "I beg you, my royal cousin," continued Amalaswintha, unheeding the remark, "not to consent to what this man demands. Do not grant him that which I refused. We were to surrender Sicily, and furnish three thousand warriors to the Emperor for each of his wars. I rejected the shameful proposal. I see," she went on, pointing to the document on the table, "that you have already concluded your business. Retreat before it is too late; they will deceive you always." Theodahad uneasily drew the document towards him, and cast a suspicious look at Petros. The latter went up to Amalaswintha. "What do you want here, you queen of yesterday? Would you control the ruler of this realm? Your time is past and your power at an end." "Leave us," said Theodahad, taking courage. "I will do what I think good. You shall not succeed in parting me from my friends at Byzantium. Look here, before your very eyes our treaty shall be concluded," And he signed his name. "Well," said Petros with a smile, "the Princess comes just at the right moment to sign as a witness." "No!" cried Amalaswintha, "I have come at the right moment to frustrate your plan. I will go straightway to the army, to the National Assembly, which will soon take place at Regeta. There, before all the nation, I will expose your proposals, the plans of the Emperor, and the treachery of this feeble man." "That will do no good," said Petros quietly, "unless you accuse yourself." "I _will_ accuse myself. I will confess all my folly, all my guilt, and gladly suffer the death I have deserved. But my self-accusation shall warn and alarm the whole nation from Etna to the Alps. A world in arms shall be opposed to you, and I will save my Goths by my death, from the dangers to which my life has exposed them!" And, filled with noble enthusiasm, she hurried out of the room. Theodahad looked with dismay at the ambassador. For some time he could not find a word to say. "Advise me, help--" he stammered out at last. "Advise? At this moment there is but one advice to give. That insane woman will ruin herself and us if we let her alone. She must not be allowed to fulfil her threat. _You_ must take care of that." "I?" cried Theodahad, alarmed. "I know nothings about such things! Where is Gothelindis? She, and she alone, can help us." "And the Prefect," added Petros; "send for both of them." Gothelindis and Cethegus were summoned from the banquet. Petros told them what the Princess had said, but without mentioning the treaty as the cause of her outburst. He had scarcely finished speaking, when Gothelindis cried, "Enough! She must not go. Her every step must be watched. She must speak neither to Goth nor Roman; she must not leave the palace. That least of all!" And she hurried away to place confidential slaves at the doors of Amalaswintha's apartments. Presently she returned. "She is praying aloud in her cabinet," she cried contemptuously. "Rouse yourself, Cethegus, and let us thwart her prayers." Cethegus, leaning against the wall, had observed all these proceedings, and listened to all that was said in thoughtful silence. He saw how necessary it was that he should once more take the reins into his own hands, and hold them more firmly. He saw Byzantium pressing more and more into the foreground--and that he could not suffer. "Speak, Cethegus," Gothelindis repeated. "What is most necessary?" "Clearness of purpose," he answered, standing erect. "In every contract, the particular aim of each of the contracting parties must be plain. If not, they will continually hinder each other by mistrust. You have your aims, I have mine. Yours are evident--I have already told you what they are. You, Petros, wish that Emperor Justinian should rule in Italy in place of the Goths. You, Gothelindis and Theodahad, wish so also, on condition that you receive a rich recompense in revenge, gold, and honours. But I--I too, have my private aim. What is the use of denying it? My sly Petros, you would not long believe that I was only ambitious of serving as your tool, and of being a senator in Byzantium. I, too, have my aim, and all your threefold cunning would never be able to discover it, because it lies too close to your eyes. I must betray it to you myself. My petrified heart still cherishes one ideal: Italy! and I, like you, wish the Goths well out of this country. But I do not, like you, wish that the Emperor should step unconditionally into their shoes. I do not want the deluge instead of the shower. I, the inveterate Republican, would like best--you know, Petros, that we were both Republicans at eighteen years of age, and I have remained so; but you need not tell it to your master, the Emperor; I have told him myself long since--to cast out the barbarians, bag and baggage, but without letting you in. Unfortunately, that is not now possible; we cannot do without your help. But I will limit it to the unavoidable. No Byzantine army shall enter this country, except--at the last extremity--to receive it at the hands of the Italians. Italy must be more a gift from the Italians than a conquest of the Emperor. The blessing of generals and tax-gatherers, which Byzantium would bring upon the land, must be spared us; we want your protection, but not your tyranny." Over the face of Petros crept a sly smile, which Cethegus seemed not to observe. He continued: "Hear my conditions. I know that Belisarius lies off Sicily with his fleet. He must not land. He must return home. I cannot do with him in Italy; at least, not until I call him myself. And if you, Petros, do not at once send him the order to return to Byzantium, our ways separate. I know Belisarius and Narses, and their military government, and I know what mild masters these Goths make. I am sorry for Amalaswintha; she was a mother to my people. Therefore choose--choose between Belisarius and Cethegus. If Belisarius lands, Cethegus and all Italy will stand by Amalaswintha and the Goths, and then we will see whether you can wrest from us a single foot of this soil. If you choose Cethegus, he will break the power of the barbarians, and Italy will subject herself to the Emperor, not as his slave, but as his consort. Choose, Petros." "You proud man!" cried Gothelindis. "You dare to make conditions to me, your Queen?" And she lifted her hand with a threatening gesture. But Cethegus caught the hand in his iron grasp, and drew it quietly down. "Leave such antics, you Queen of a day! Here only Italy and Byzantium negotiate. If you forget your want of power, you must be reminded of it. You reign only so long as we uphold you." He stood before the angry woman in an attitude of such quiet majesty, that she was silenced, but her eyes flashed with inextinguishable hatred. "Cethegus," said Petros, who had meanwhile made up his mind, "you are right. For the moment, Byzantium can gain nothing better than your help; for without it she can gain nothing. If Belisarius returns to Byzantium, will you be for us unconditionally?" "Unconditionally." "And Amalaswintha?" "I abandon her." "Well, then," said the Byzantine, "we are agreed." He wrote upon a waxen tablet a briefly-expressed order for the return of Belisarius to Byzantium, and gave it to the Prefect. "You may send the message yourself." Cethegus read it carefully. "It is well," said he, putting the tablet into the bosom of his dress. "We are Agreed." "When will Italy proceed against the barbarians?" asked Petros. "In the first days of the next month. I shall now go to Rome. Farewell." "You are going? Will you not help us to get rid of Amalaswintha? You will take pity on her again?" asked the Queen, in a reproachful voice. "She is condemned," said Cethegus, turning as he reached the door. "The judge goes; the executioner will perform his duty." And he left them with a proud mien. Theodahad, who had listened to all that had passed in speechless astonishment, now caught the hand of Petros in great alarm. "Petros," he cried, "for God's sake, what have you done? Our contract, and everything else, depends upon Belisarius; and you send him away?" "And allow that insolent man to triumph?" added Gothelindis indignantly. But Petros laughed; his whole face beamed with the ecstasy of victorious cunning. "Be quiet," he said. "This time the invincible Cethegus is conquered by Petros, at whom he has always scoffed." He took Theodahad and Gothelindis each by the hand, drew them close to him, looked round, and then whispered: "At the commencement of the message to Belisarius I have placed a small spot, which means: 'All that I have written is not meant in earnest, and is null.' Yes, yes; one learns the art of writing at the court of Byzantium!" CHAPTER IV. Amalaswintha passed the two days following this midnight interview in a sort of real or imagined imprisonment. Whenever she left her chamber, whenever she turned the corner of one of the passages of the palace, she fancied that some one followed or accompanied her, now appearing, now slipping past her, now disappearing, and seemingly as eager to watch all her movements as to avoid her notice. She could not even descend to the tomb of her son unobserved. In vain she asked for Witichis or Teja; they had left the city the morning after the coronation, by order of the King. The feeling that she was alone, surrounded by lurking enemies, filled her mind with vague alarms. Heavily and darkly the autumn rain-clouds hung over Ravenna, as Amalaswintha rose from her sleepless couch on the morning of the third day. It affected her disagreeably when, upon going to the window of sparry gypsum, a raven rose cawing from the marble sill, and flew slowly over the garden with hoarse cries, heavily flapping its wings. The Princess felt how much her nerves had been tried by the last few days of pain, fear, and remorse; for she could not resist the dismal impression made upon her by the early autumn mists, which rose from the lagoons of the harbour city. She looked at the grey and marshy landscape with a deep sigh. Her heart was heavy with care and remorse. Her only hope lay in the thought of saving the kingdom at the cost of her own life, by frankly accusing and humiliating herself before the whole nation. She did not doubt that the relations and blood-avengers of the murdered dukes would strictly fulfil their duty. Buried in such reflections, she went through the empty halls and corridors of the palace--this time, as she believed, unobserved--to the resting-place of her son, in order to confirm herself, with prayer and penitence, in her pious resolution. As, after some time had elapsed, she re-ascended from the vault and turned into a gloomy arched passage, a man in the habit of a slave stepped out of a niche--she thought that she had often seen his face before--and put into her hand a little wax tablet, immediately disappearing into a side passage. She at once recognised the handwriting of Cassiodorus. And now she guessed who was the secret messenger. It was Dolios, the letter-carrier of her faithful minister. Quickly concealing the tablet in her dress, she hastened to her chamber, where she read as follows: "In pain, but not in anger, I parted from you. I would not that you should be called away from this world in an impenitent state, and lose your immortal soul. Fly from the palace, from the city. You know how bitter is the hatred of Gothelindis. Your life is not safe for an hour. Trust no one except my secretary, and at sunset go to the Temple of Venus in the garden. There you will find my litter, which will bring you safely to my villa at the Lake of Bolsena. Obey and trust." Much moved, Amalaswintha pressed the letter to her heart. Faithful Cassiodorus! He had not, then, quite forsaken her. He still feared and cared for her life. And that charming villa upon the lonely island in the blue Lake of Bolsena! There, many, many years ago, in the full bloom of youth and beauty, as the guest of Cassiodorus, she had been wedded to Eutharic, the noble Amelung, and, surrounded by all the splendour of rank and power, had passed the proudest days of her youth. She was overcome with an intense longing to see once more the scene of her greatest happiness. This feeling powerfully induced her to listen to the warning of Cassiodorus. Still more the fear--not for her life, for she longed to die--but that her enemies would make it impossible for her to warn the nation and save the kingdom. And, finally, she reflected that the way to Regeta, near Rome, where the great National Assembly was shortly--as was usual every autumn--to take place, led past the Lake of Bolsena; and that it was therefore only a furthering of her plan, should she start at once in this direction. But, in order to make sure in all cases, so that, even if she never arrived at the end of her journey, her warning voice might reach the ears of the nation, she decided to write a letter to Cassiodorus--whom she could not be sure of meeting at his villa--in which she would entrust him with her confession, and expose to him all the plans of the Byzantines and Theodahad. With closed doors she wrote the painful words. Hot tears of gratitude and remorse fell upon the parchment; she carefully sealed it, and delivered it to the most faithful of her slaves, with the strict injunction to carry it speedily and safely to the monastery at Squillacium in Apulia, the monastical foundation and usual abode of Cassiodorus. Slowly, slowly passed the dreary hours. She had grasped the offered hand of her friend with all her heart. Memory and hope vied with each other in painting the island in the lake as a much-loved asylum. There she hoped to find repose and peace. She kept carefully within her apartment, in order to give no cause for suspicion to her spies, or any excuse to detain her. At last the sun had set. With light steps, Amalaswintha, forbidding the attendance of her women, and only hiding a few jewels and documents in the folds of her mantle, hurried from her room into the wide colonnade which led to the garden. She feared to meet here as usual some lurking spy, and to be stopped, and perhaps detained. She frequently looked back, and even glanced carefully into the niches of the statues--all was empty and quiet, no spy followed her footsteps. Thus, unobserved, she reached the platform of the terrace which united the palace and the garden, and afforded an open view of the latter. Amalaswintha examined the nearest path leading to the Temple of Venus. The way was open. Only the faded leaves fell rustling from the tall pines on to the sandy path, where they were whirled about by the wind, which drove the mist and clouds before it in ghostly shapes; it was very dismal in the deserted garden, which looked grey and dim in the twilight. The Princess shivered. The cold wind tore at her veil and mantle. She cast a shy glance at the heavy, gloomy mass of stone which she had left behind--the building in whose precincts she had ruled so proudly, and from which she was now escaping, lonely and fearfully as a criminal. She thought of her son, who reposed in the vault of the palace. She thought of her daughter, whom she herself had banished from these walls. For a moment her pain threatened to overpower the forsaken woman; she tottered, and with difficulty supported herself by the broad balustrade of the steps which she was descending. A feverish shudder shook her frame, as the horror of despair shook her soul. "But my people," she said to herself, "and my atonement---- I must and will accomplish it." Strengthened by this thought, she again hurried down the steps, and entered an alley overhung by thick foliage, which led across the garden, and ended at the Temple of Venus. She walked rapidly forward, trembling whenever the autumn leaves, with a sighing sound, were swept across her path from a side-walk. Breathless she arrived at the little temple, and looked searchingly around her. But no litter, no slaves were to be seen; all around was quiet; only the branches of the pines creaked in the wind. All at once the neighing of a horse struck upon her ear. She turned; around the corner of a wall a man approached with hasty steps. It was Dolios. He looked sharply about him, and then beckoned to her to come. The Princess hastened to follow him round the corner; there stood Cassiodorus's well-known Gallic travelling carriage, the comfortable and elegant _carruca_, closed on all sides with movable latticed shutters of polished wood, and to which were harnessed three swift-footed Flemish horses. "We must hasten, Princess," whispered Dolios, as he lifted her into the soft cushions. "The litter was too slow for the hatred of your enemies. Quiet and speed; so that no one may notice us." Amalaswintha looked back once more. Dolios opened the garden-gate and led the horses out. Two men stepped out of the bushes near. One took the driver's seat on the carriage, the other mounted one of two saddle-horses which stood outside the gate. Amalaswintha recognised the men as confidential slaves belonging to Cassiodorus. Like Dolios, they were provided with weapons. The latter carefully closed the garden-gate, and let down the shutters of the carriage. Then he mounted the remaining horse and drew his sword. "Forward!" he cried. And the little company galloped away as if Death himself were at their heels. CHAPTER V. Amalaswintha at first revelled in the feeling of gratitude, freedom, and safety. She made happy plans of reconciliation. She saw her people saved from Byzantium by her warning voice--saved from the treachery of their own King. She already heard the enthusiastic shouts of the valiant army, announcing death to the enemy, and pardon to herself. Lost in such dreams, the hours, days, and nights passed rapidly. The party hurried on without pause. Three or four times a day the horses were changed, so that mile after mile was passed with the utmost velocity. Dolios carefully watched over the Princess. He stood at the door of the carriage with drawn sword, while his companions fetched meat and drink from the stations which they passed. The speed at which they went, and the faithful attention of Dolios, freed the Princess from an anxiety which she had not been able for some time to get rid of--it seemed to her that they were pursued. Twice, at Perusia and Clusium, where the carriage stopped, she had thought she heard the rattle of wheels and the sound of horses' hoofs close behind. And, at Clusium, she had even fancied, as she looked through the lattices, that she saw a second _carruca_, likewise accompanied by outriders, turn into the gate of that town. But when she had spoken of this to Dolios, he had at once galloped back to the gate, and shortly returned with the assurance that there was nothing to be seen. From that time she had noticed nothing more; and the mad haste with which she was being carried to the wished-for island, encouraged the hope that her enemies, even if they had discovered her flight and had followed her for a time, had soon become tired and remained behind. An accident, insignificant in itself, but fraught with dread because of accompanying circumstances, suddenly darkened the brightening hopes of the fugitive Princess. A desolate, treeless waste extended on all sides, farther than the eye could reach. Only reeds and tall marsh-plants stood in the damp ditches on both sides of the Roman high-road, nodding and whispering mysteriously in the night wind. The road was now and then bordered by walls grown over with vines; or, in old Roman style, by monuments, which, however, were often sadly ruined, and the scattered stones of which, fallen across the road, hindered the progress of the horses. Suddenly the carriage stopped with a violent shock, and Dolios tore open the door. "What has happened?" cried the Princess; "have we fallen into the hands of our enemies?" "No," said Dolios, who, though known to her as gloomy and reserved, seemed, during the journey, almost alarmingly silent; "a wheel is broken. You must descend and wait until it is mended." A violent gust of wind just then extinguished his torch, and chilly drops of rain lashed the face of the terrified Princess. "Descend? here? whither shall I go? There is no house near, not even a tree which might afford a shelter from the rain and wind. I shall remain in the carriage." "The wheel must be taken off. That monument will afford some shelter." Shivering with fright, Amalaswintha obeyed, and walked over the scattered stones to the right side of the road, where, across the ditch, she saw a tall monument rise out of the darkness. Dolios helped her over the ditch. All at once the neighing of a horse was heard on the road behind the carriage. Amalaswintha stopped short in alarm. "It is our rear-guard," said Dolios quickly. "Come!" And he led her through the wet grass up the hill upon which stood the monument. Arrived at the top, she seated herself upon the broad slab of a sarcophagus. Dolios all at once disappeared into the darkness; in vain she called him back. Presently she saw the light of his torch on the road below; it shone redly through the mist of the marsh, and the stormy wind rapidly bore away the sound of the hammer-strokes of the slaves who were working at the wheel. Thus sat the daughter of the great Theodoric, lonely and in fear. The cold rain slowly penetrated her clothing. The wind tore at her dress and sighed dismally through the cypresses behind the monument; ragged clouds drove across the sky and at intervals permitted a gleam of moonlight to penetrate their folds, which only intensified the darkness that followed. Amalaswintha's heart was sick with fear. Gradually her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, and, looking about her, she could distinguish the outlines of the nearest objects. There!--her heart stood still with horror--it seemed to her as if, close behind her on the raised corner of the back of the sarcophagus, there sat a second figure--it was not her own shadow--a shorter figure in a wide flowing garment, its arms resting on its knees, its head supported on its hands, and its eyes fixed upon her. She could scarcely breathe; she thought she heard a whisper; she feverishly tried to see, to hear. Again there came a whisper. "No, no; not yet!" this was what she thought she heard. She raised herself gently, and the figure, too, seemed to move; she distinctly heard the clang of steel upon stone. In mortal fear she screamed out: "Dolios! lights! help! lights!" She turned to descend the hill, but her knees trembled too much; she fell and hurt her cheek against the sharp stones. All at once Dolios stood beside her, and silently lifted her up. He asked no questions. "Dolios," she said, trying to compose herself, "give me the light! I must see what was there; what is there now." She took the torch and walked with a firm step round the corner of the sarcophagus. There was nothing to be seen, but by the light of the torch she now perceived that the monument was not old like the others, but newly erected; so unsoiled was the white marble, so fresh the black letters of the inscription. Irresistibly impelled by the strange curiosity which is inseparable from terror, she held the torch to the socle of the monument, and by its flickering light read these words: "Eternal honour to the three Balthes, Thulun, Ibba, and Pitza. An eternal curse upon their murderers!" With a scream Amalaswintha staggered back. Dolios led her, half fainting, to the carriage. She passed the remaining hours of her journey in an almost unconscious state. She felt ill in body and mind. The nearer she came to the island the more the feverish joy with which she had looked forward to reaching it was replaced by a mysterious fear. With apprehension she saw the shrubs and trees at the road-side fly past her faster and faster. At last the smoking horses stopped. She let down the shutters and looked out. It was that cold and dreary hour in which the first grey of dawn struggles for the mastery with the still pervading night. They had arrived, it seemed, at the shore of the lake, but nothing was to be seen of its waters. A dismal grey mist lay, impenetrable as the future, before Amalaswintha's eyes. Of the villa, even of the island, nothing could be seen. On the right side of the road stood a low fisher-hut, half-buried in the tall, thick reeds, which bent their heads to the soughing of the morning wind. Singular! they seemed to warn and beckon her away from the hidden lake behind them. Dolios had gone into the hut. He now returned and lifted the Princess out of the carriage. Silently he led her through the damp meadow to the reeds. Among them lay a small boat, which seemed rather to float on the mist than on the water. At the rudder sat an old man in a grey and ragged mantle; his long white hair hung dishevelled about his face. He seemed to sit dreaming with closed eyes, which he did not even open when the Princess entered the rocking boat and placed herself in the middle upon a camp-stool. Dolios entered the boat after her, and took the two oars; the slaves remained behind with the carriage. "Dolios!" cried Amalaswintha anxiously, "it is very dark. Can the old man steer in this fog, and no light on either shore?" "A light would be of no use, Queen. He is blind." "Blind!" cried the terrified woman. "Let me land! Put back!" "I have guided the boat for twenty years," said the aged ferryman; "no seeing man knows the way as well as I." "Were you born blind then?" "No. Theodoric the Amelung caused me to be blinded, believing that Alaric, the brother of Thulun, had hired me to murder him. I am a servant of the Balthes, and a follower of Alaric, but I was innocent; and so was my master, the banished Alaric. A curse upon the Amelungs!" he cried with an angry pull at the rudder. "Silence, old man!" said Dolios. "Why should I not say to-day what I have said at every oar-stroke for twenty years? It is the way I beat time. A curse upon the Amelungs!" The Princess looked with horror at the old man, who, in fact, steered the boat with complete security, and as straight as an arrow. His wide mantle and dishevelled hair waved in the wind; all around was fog and silence; only the regular beat of the oars could be heard. Empty air and grey mist enveloped the slight boat. It seemed to Amalaswintha as if Charon was rowing her over the Styx to the grey realm of shades. Shivering, she drew her mantle closely around her. A few more strokes of the oar, and they landed. Dolios lifted the trembling Queen on to the land; but the old man silently turned his boat, and rowed as quickly and unerringly back as he had come. With a sort of dismay Amalaswintha watched him disappear into the thick mist. Suddenly it seemed to her as if she heard the sound of oar-strokes from a second boat, which approached nearer and nearer. She asked Dolios what was the cause of this noise. "I hear nothing," he answered; "you are over-excited. Come into the house." Supported by his arm she climbed the steps, hewn in the rock, which led to the tower-like, loftily-situated villa. Of the gardens, which, as she distinctly remembered, extended on both sides of the narrow path, scarcely the outlines of the rows of trees could be distinguished in the mist. At last they reached the lofty entrance, a bronze door with posts of black marble. Dolios knocked upon it with the hilt of his sword; the stroke reverberated dully through the vaulted halls--the door sprang open. Amalaswintha remembered how she had once entered this door, then almost choked with wreaths of flowers, at the side of her young husband; she remembered with what friendly warmth they had been welcomed by the door-keeper and his wife, at that time also a newly-married couple. The dark-looking slave with tangled grey hair, who now stood before her with a lantern and a bunch of keys, was a stranger to her. "Where is Fuscina, the wife of the late ostiarius? Is she no more in the house?" she asked. "She was long since drowned in the lake," answered the door-keeper indifferently; and went forward with the light. The Princess followed shuddering; she could not help thinking of the cold black waves which had so dismally licked the planks of the little boat. They went on through arched courts and pillared halls; all were empty, as if the inhabitants were dead. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the deserted rooms--the whole villa seemed one vast catacomb. "The house is uninhabited? I need a female slave." "My wife will attend you." "Is no one else in the villa?" "One other slave--a Greek physician." "A physician? I will see him----" But at this moment a violent knocking was heard at the outer door. Amalaswintha started in terror. "What was that?" she asked, catching Dolios by the sleeve. She heard the banging of the heavy door as it was closed again. "It was only some one demanding admittance," said the ostiarius, as he returned and unlocked the door of the room intended for the fugitive Princess. The close air of a chamber which had not been opened for a long time half suffocated her; but she recognised with emotion the tortoise-shell lining of the walls; it was the same room which she had occupied twenty years ago. Overpowered by the recollection, she sank upon the small couch, which was covered with dark-coloured cushions. Dismissing the two men, she drew close the curtains of the couch, and soon sank into an uneasy slumber. CHAPTER VI. Thus she lay, she knew not how long, half awake, half dreaming; picture after picture arose in her excited mind. Eutharic with the expression of constant pain upon his lips--Athalaric as he lay stretched upon his bier, he seemed to sign to her--the reproachful face of Mataswintha--then mist and clouds and leafless trees--then three angry warriors with pale faces and bloody garments--and the blind ferryman in the realm of shades. At another time it seemed to her as if she lay on the steps of the monument in the desolate waste, and again something rustled behind her, and a shrouded figure bent over her, nearer and nearer, oppressing and suffocating her. Her heart was contracted by fear; she started up terrified, and looked about her. There!--it was no dream-fancy--something really rustled behind the curtains, and a shrouded shadow glided along the wainscoted walls. With a scream Amalaswintha opened the curtain wide--there was nothing to be seen. Was it, then, but a dream? It was impossible to remain alone with her torturing thoughts. She pressed a knob of agate on the wall, which set in motion a hammer outside the room. Very soon a slave appeared, whose features and costume betrayed a higher education. He introduced himself as the Greek physician. She told him of the terrible dreams and the feverish tremblings by which she had been tormented during the last few hours. He explained the symptoms as the consequence of excitement, perhaps of cold taken during her flight, recommended a warm bath, and left her to order its preparation. Amalaswintha remembered the splendid baths, which, divided into two stories, occupied the whole right wing of the villa. The lower story of the large octagonal rotunda, designed for the cold bath, was in immediate connection with the lake. The water was conducted into the bath through sieves, which excluded every impurity. The upper story, a smaller octagon, was erected over the bath-room of the lower story, the ceiling of which, made of a large circular metal plate, formed the floor of the upper bath, and could be pushed, divided into two semicircles, into the walls; so that both stories then formed an undivided space, which, for the purposes of cleansing or for games of swimming and diving, could be completely filled with the water of the lake. Generally, however, the upper story was used only for the warm bath, and was provided with hundreds of pipes, and innumerable dolphin, triton, and Medusa-heads of bronze or marble, through which flowed the scented waters, mixed with oils and essences; while from the gallery all round, upon which the bathers undressed, ornamental steps led down into the shell-shaped porphyry basin of the bath. As the Princess was recalling these rooms to her memory, the wife of the door-keeper appeared to lead her to the bath. They passed through wide columned halls and libraries--where, however, the Princess missed the capsulas and rolls of Cassiodorus--in the direction of the garden; the slave carrying fine bath-cloths, oil flasks, and the salve for anointment. At last they arrived at the tower-like octagon of the bath-rooms, which was completely lined and paved with pale grey marble. They went through the halls and passages, which served for the gymnastics and games of ball usually indulged in before and after the bath, past the heating-rooms, undressing and anointing-rooms, directly to the calidarium, or warm bath. The slave silently opened the door in the marble wall. Amalaswintha went in and stood upon the narrow gallery which ran round the basin. Immediately before her was a flight of easy steps leading into the bath, out of which warm and delicious odours already arose. The light fell from above through an octagonal dome of artistically-cut glass. Close to the entrance into the room a staircase of cedar-wood, consisting of twelve steps, led on to a spring-board. On the marble walls of the gallery, as well as of the basin, the openings of the water-works and heating-pipes were concealed by marble bas-reliefs. Without a word, the attendant laid the various articles for the bath upon the soft cushions and carpets which covered the gallery, and turned to go. "How is it that I seem to know you?" asked the Princess, looking thoughtfully at her. "How long have you been here?" "Eight days," answered the slave, turning the handle of the door. "How long have you served Cassiodorus?" "I serve, and have always served, the Princess Gothelindis." At this name Amalaswintha started up with a cry and caught at the woman's skirt--too late; she was gone and the door closed, and Amalaswintha heard the key taken from the lock outside. A great and unknown terror overcame her. She felt that she had been fearfully deceived; that some shocking secret lay behind. Her heart was full of unspeakable anxiety; and flight--flight from the rooms was her only thought. But flight seemed impossible. The door now appeared to be only a thick marble slab like those on the right and left; even a needle could not have penetrated into the junctures. She looked desperately round the walls of the gallery, but met only the marble stare of the tritons and dolphins. At last her eyes rested upon a snake-encircled Medusa's head directly opposite and a scream of horror escaped her lips. The face of the Medusa was pushed aside, and the oval opening beneath, the snaky hair was filled with a living countenance! Was it a human face? The trembling woman clung to the marble balustrade of the gallery, and bent, over it, staring at the apparition. Yes, it was the distorted features of Gothelindis! A hell of hate and mockery flashed from the eyes. Amalaswintha fell upon her knees and hid her face in her hands. "_You_--you here?" A hoarse laugh was the reply. "Yes, child of the Amelungs, I am here; to your ruin! Mine is this island; mine the house--it will become your grave--mine is Dolios, and all the slaves of Cassiodorus; bought by me eight days ago. I have decoyed you here; I have followed you like your shadow. I have endured the torture of my hatred for long days and nights, in order to enjoy full revenge at last. I will revel for hours in your death-agony. I will see your tender frame shaken as with fever-frost, and your haughty features convulsed with terror. Oh, I will drink a sea of revenge!" Amalaswintha rose from her knees wringing her hands. "Revenge? For what? Why this deadly hatred?" "Ah! can you ask? Certainly years have passed, and the happy easily forget. But hate has a faithful memory. Have you forgotten how two young girls once played under the shade of the plantains in the meadow at Ravenna? They were the fairest among their play-fellows; both young, beautiful, and amiable. A royal child the one, the other a daughter of the Balthes. The girls were about to choose a queen of the games. They chose Gothelindis, for she was still more handsome than you, and not so tyrannical. And they chose her twice in succession. But the King's daughter stood near, devoured by ungovernable pride and envy, and when they chose me for the third time she took up a pair of sharp-pointed gardener's scissors----" "Stop! Oh! be silent, Gothelindis!" "And hurled it at me. It hit me. Screaming' with pain and bleeding, I fell to the ground, my whole cheek one yawning wound, and my eye, my eye pierced through! Ah! how it still pains, even to-day!" "Forgive, pardon me, Gothelindis!" cried Amalaswintha. "You have pardoned me long ago." "Forgive? I forgive you? Shall I forgive you when you have robbed me of my eye, and of all my beauty? You conquered for life! Gothelindis was no more dangerous as a rival. She lamented in secret; the disfigured girl hid from the eyes of mankind. And years passed. Then there came to the court of Ravenna a noble Amelung from Spain; Eutharic with his dark eyes and tender soul. And he, himself sick, took pity upon the sick and half-blind girl. He spoke to her with affection and kindness; spoke to the ugly, disfigured creature whom all the others avoided. And it was decided--in order to eradicate the ancient enmity between our families, and to expiate old and new guilt--for Duke Alaric had been condemned in consequence of a secret and unproved accusation--that the poor ill-used daughter of the Balthes should become the wife of the noblest of the Amelungs. But when you heard this, you, who had so terribly disfigured me, were resolved to deprive me also of my lover! Not out of jealousy, no; not because you loved him, no; but from mere pride. Because you were determined to keep the first man in the kingdom and the heir to the crown to yourself. And you succeeded; for your father could deny you nothing, and Eutharic soon forgot his compassion for the one-eyed girl, when the hand of the beautiful Amalaswintha was offered to him. In recompense--or was it only in mockery?--they gave me, too, to an Amelung; to Theodahad, that miserable coward?" "Gothelindis, I swear to you, I never suspected that you loved Eutharic. How could I----" "To be sure! how could you believe that the disfigured girl could place her heart so high? Oh, you cursed woman, if you had really loved him, and had made him happy--I could have forgiven all! But you never loved him; you are only capable of ambition! His lot with you was misery. For years I saw him wasting by your side, oppressed, unloved, chilled to the very soul by your coldness. Grief soon killed him. You! you have robbed me of my lover and brought him to the grave with sorrow--revenge! revenge for him!" And the lofty dome echoed with the cry: "Revenge! Revenge!" "Help!" cried Amalaswintha, and ran despairingly round the circle of the gallery, beating the smooth walls with her hands. "Aye! call! call! here no one can hear you but the God of Revenge! Do you think I have bridled my hate for months in vain? How often, how easily could I have reached you, with dagger or poison, at Ravenna! But no; I have decoyed you here. At the monument of my murdered cousins; an hour ago at your bedside; I with difficulty restrained my uplifted hand--but slowly, inch by inch, shall you die. I will watch for hours the growing agony of your death." "Terrible! Oh, terrible!" "What are hours compared with the long years during which I was martyred by the thought of my disfigurement, of your beauty and your possession of my lover! But you shall repent it!" "What will you do?" cried the terrified woman, again and again seeking some outlet in the walls. "I will drown you, slowly and surely, in the waterworks of this bath, which your friend Cassiodorus built. You do not know what tortures of jealousy and impotent rage I endured in this house when your wedding with Eutharic was celebrated, and I was compelled to serve in your train. In this room, you proud woman, I unloosed your sandals, and dried your fair limbs--in this room you shall die?" She touched a spring in the wall. The floor of the basin, the round metal plate, divided into two halves, which slid slowly into the walls on the right and left. With horror the imprisoned woman looked down from the narrow gallery into the chasm thus opened at her feet. "Remember that day in the meadow!" cried Gothelindis; and in the lower story the sluices were suddenly opened, and the waters of the lake rushed in, roaring and hissing, and rose higher and higher with fearful rapidity. Amalaswintha saw certain death before her. She saw the impossibility of escape, or of softening her fiendish enemy by prayers. At this crisis, the hereditary courage of the Amelungs returned to her; she composed herself, and was reconciled to her fate. She descried, amid the numerous reliefs of mythological subjects near her, a representation of the death of Christ on the right of the entrance. The sight strengthened her mind; she threw herself upon her knees before the marble cross, clasped it with both ands, and prayed quietly with closed eyes, while the water rose and rose; it already splashed upon the steps of the gallery. "You pray, murderess? Away from the cross!" cried Gothelindis, enraged; "think of the three dukes!" Suddenly all the dolphin and triton heads on the right side of the octagon began to spout streams of hot rater; white steam rushed out of the pipes. Amalaswintha sprang up and ran to the left side of the gallery. "Gothelindis, I forgive you! Kill me, but forgive me also!" And the water rose and rose; it already covered the topmost step of the bath, and slowly wetted the floor of the gallery. And now the streaming water-pipes spouted upon Amalaswintha from the left also. She took refuge in the middle of the gallery, directly opposite the Medusa, the only place where no steam from the hot-water pipe could reach her. If she mounted the spring-board, which was placed here, she could respite her life for some time longer. Gothelindis seemed to expect that she would do so, and to revel in the prospect of the lengthened torture of the agonised woman. The water already rushed over the marble flooring of the gallery and laved the feet of Amalaswintha. She ran quickly up the brown and shining wooden steps, and leaned over the railing of the bridge. "Hear me, Gothelindis! my last prayer! not for myself, but for my people, for _our_ people. Petros will destroy them, and Theodahad----" "Yes, I know that the kingdom is your last anxiety! Despair. It is lost! These foolish Goths, who have always preferred the Amelungs to the Balthes, are sold and betrayed by the Amelungs. Belisarius approaches, and there is no one to warn them." "You err, satanic woman; they _are_ warned! I, their Queen, have warned them! Hail to my people! Destruction to their enemies! and may God have mercy on my soul!" and she suddenly leapt from the spring-board into the water, which closed whirling over her head. Gothelindis looked at the place which her victim had occupied a moment before. "She has disappeared," she said. Then she looked at the water--on the surface floated Amalaswintha's kerchief. "Even in death this woman conquers me," said Gothelindis slowly. "How long was my hate, and how short my revenge!" CHAPTER VII. A few days after these occurrences, there were assembled in the apartments of the Byzantine ambassador at Ravenna a number of distinguished Romans of worldly and ecclesiastical rank. The Bishops Hypatius and Demetrius from the Eastern Empire were also present. Great excitement, mixed with alarm and anger, was visible on all faces, as Petros, the rhetorician, concluded his address in these words: "It is for this reason, reverend bishops of the East and West, and you, noble Romans, that I have assembled you here. I protest loudly and solemnly, in the name of the Emperor, against all secret acts of cunning or force which may have been practised against the noble lady. Nine days ago she disappeared from Ravenna; most likely taken by force from your midst; she, who has ever been the friend and protector of the Italians! On the same day, the Queen, her bitter enemy, also disappeared. I have sent out expresses in all directions, but, until now, am without news. But alas! if----" He could not complete the sentence. A confused tumult arose from the Forum of Hercules, and very soon hasty footsteps were heard in the vestibule; the curtain was parted, and one of the Byzantine slaves of the ambassador hurried into the room, covered with dust. "Sir," he cried, "she is dead! she is murdered!" "Murdered!" repeated many voices. "By whom?" asked Petros. "By Gothelindis; at the villa in the Lake of Bolsena!" "Where is the corpse? Where the murderess?" "Gothelindis pretends that the Princess was drowned in the bath while playing with the water-works, with which she was unacquainted. But it is known that the Queen had followed her victim, step by step, ever since she left the city. Romans and Goths have crowded by hundreds to the villa to bring the corpse here in solemn procession. The Queen escaped the fury of the people and fled to the fortress of Feretri." "Enough," cried Petros indignantly. "I go to the King, and call upon you all to follow me. I shall refer to your testimony of what passes in my report to Emperor Justinian." And he at once hurried out at the head of the assembly to the palace. In the streets they found a throng of people rushing hither and thither, full of rage and indignation. The news had arrived in the city, and spread from house to house. On recognising the imperial ambassador and the dignitaries of the city, the crowd gave way before them, but immediately closed again behind them pressed after them to the palace, and was with difficulty kept from entering the gates. Every moment increased the number and excitement of the people. The Roman citizens crowded together in the Forum of Honorius, and to their grief for the fate of their protectress was added the hope that this occurrence might cause the downfall of the barbarians. The appearance of the ambassador encouraged this hope, and the feelings of the mass took a direction which was by no means inimical alone to Theodahad and Gothelindis. Meanwhile Petros, with his companions, hastened to the apartments of the helpless King, who, in the absence of his wife, had lost all strength of resistance. He trembled at the excitement of the crowd before the palace, and had already sent for Petros, to ask from him help and counsel; for it was Petros himself who had decided upon the murder of the Princess, and arranged with Gothelindis the manner of its accomplishment. The King, therefore, now expected him to help to bear the consequences. When, then, the Byzantine appeared upon the threshold, Theodahad hurried to him with open arms; but he suddenly stood still in amazement, astonished to see what companions Petros had brought with him, and still more astonished at his threatening aspect. "I call you to account, King of the Goths!" cried Petros, even before he had crossed the threshold. "In the name of Byzantium, I call you to account for the disappearance of the daughter of Theodoric. You know that Emperor Justinian had assured her of his particular protection; every hair of her head is therefore sacred, and sacred every drop of her blood. Where is Amalaswintha?" The King stared at him in speechless astonishment. He admired this power of dissimulation; but he did not understand its cause. He made no answer. "Where is Amalaswintha?" repeated Petros, advancing threateningly: and his companions also came a step forward. "She is dead," said Theodahad, who began to feel extremely anxious. "She is murdered!" cried Petros. "So says all Italy. Murdered by you and your wife. Justinian, my illustrious Emperor, was the protector of this woman, and he will be her avenger. In his name I declare war against you--war against you and all your race!" "War against you and all your race!" repeated the Italians, carried away by the excitement of the moment, and giving vent to their long-cherished hatred; and they pressed upon the trembling King. "Petros," he stammered in terror, "you will remember our treaty, and you will----" But the ambassador took a roll of papyrus out of his mantle, and tore it in two. "Thus I tear all bonds between my Emperor and this bloodthirsty house! You yourselves by this cruel deed have forfeited all our former forbearance, No treaties--war!" "For God's sake!" cried Theodahad; "no fighting! What do you demand, Petros?" "Complete subjection. The evacuation of Italy. Yourself and Gothelindis I summon to Byzantium, before the throne of Justinian. There----" But his speech was interrupted by the sounding clang of the Gothic alarum, and into the room hurried a strong troop of Gothic warriors, led by Earl Witichis. On hearing of Amalaswintha's death, the Gothic leaders had at once summoned the most valiant men of the nation in Ravenna to meet before the Porta Romana, and there they had agreed upon the best means of security. They had appeared in the Forum of Honorius just at the right moment--when the excitement was becoming dangerous. Here and there a dagger flashed, and the cry arose, "Woe to the barbarians!" These signs and voices ceased at once, as the hated Goths advanced in close ranks from the Forum of Hercules through the Via Palatina. Without resistance, they marched through the murmuring groups; and while Earl Teja and Hildebad guarded the gates and terraces of the palace, Witichis and Hildebrand arrived in the King's rooms just in time to hear the last words of the ambassador. Wheeling to the right, they placed their followers near the throne, to which the King had just retreated; and Witichis, leaning on his long sword, went close up to Petros, and looked keenly into his eyes. A pause of expectation ensued. "Who dares," asked Witichis quietly, "to play the master here in the royal palace of the Goths?" Recovering from his surprise, Petros answered, "It does not become you, Earl Witichis, to interfere for the protection of a murderer. I have summoned the King before the court at Byzantium." "And for this insult thou hast no reply, Amelung?" cried old Hildebrand angrily. But his bad conscience tied the King's tongue. "Then we must speak for him," said Witichis "Know, Greek, and understand it well, you false and ungrateful Ravennites, the nation of the Goths is free and acknowledges no foreign master or judge or earth." "Not even for murder?" "If evil deeds occur amongst us, we ourselves will judge and punish them. It does not concern strangers; least of all our enemy, the Emperor of Byzantium." "My Emperor will revenge this woman, whom he could not save. Deliver up the murderers to Byzantium." "We would not deliver up a Gothic hind, much less our King!" "Then you share his guilt and his punishment, and I declare war against you in the name of my master. Tremble before Justinian and Belisarius!" A movement of joy amongst the Gothic warriors was the only answer. Old Hildebrand went to the window, and cried to the Goths, who crowded below: "News! joyful news! War with Byzantium!" At this a tumult broke loose below, as if the sea had burst its dams; weapons clashed, and a thousand voices shouted: "War! war with Byzantium!" This repetition of his words was not without effect upon Petros or the Italians. The fierceness of this enthusiasm alarmed them; they were silent, and cast down their eyes. While the Goths, shaking hands, congratulated each other, Witichis went up to Petros with an earnest mien, and said solemnly: "Then it is war! We do not shun it; that you have heard. Better open war than this lurking, undermining enmity. War is good; but woe to him who kindles it without reason and without a just cause! I see beforehand years of blood and murder and conflagration; I see trampled corn-fields, smoking towns, and numberless corpses swimming down the rivers! Listen to our words. Upon your heads be this blood, this misery! You have irritated and excited us for years; we bore it quietly. And now you have declared war against us, judging where you had no right to judge, and mixing yourselves in the affairs of a nation which is as free as your own. On your heads be the responsibility! This is our answer to Byzantium." Silently Petros listened to these words; silently he turned and went out, followed by his companions. Some of them accompanied him to his residence, amongst them the Bishop of Florentia. "Reverend friend," Petros said to the latter at parting, "the letters of Theodahad about the matter you know of, which you entrusted to me for perusal, you must leave entirely at my disposal. I need them, and they are no longer necessary to you." "The process is long since decided," answered the Bishop, "and the property irrevocably acquired. The documents are yours." The ambassador then dismissed his friends, who hoped soon to see him again in Ravenna with the imperial army, and went to his chamber, where he at once despatched a messenger to Belisarius, ordering him to invade the country. Then he wrote a detailed report to the Emperor, which concluded in the following words: "And so, my Emperor, you seem to have just reason to be contented with the services of your most faithful messenger, and the situation of affairs. The barbarian nation split into parties; a hated Prince, incapable and faithless, upon the throne; the enemy surprised, unprepared and unarmed; the Italian population everywhere in your favour. We cannot fail! If no miracle occur, the barbarians must succumb almost without resistance; and, as often before, my great Emperor appears as the protector of the weak and the avenger of wrongs. It is a witty coincidence that the trireme which brought me here bears the name of _Nemesis_. Only one thing afflicts me much, that, with all my efforts, I have not succeeded in saving the unhappy daughter of Theodoric. I beg you, at least, to assure my mistress, the Empress, who was never very graciously disposed to me, that I tried most faithfully to obey all her injunctions concerning the Princess, whose fate she entrusted to me as her principal anxiety during our last interview. As to the question about Theodahad and Gothelindis, by whose assistance the Gothic Kingdom has been delivered into our hands, I will venture to recall to the Empress's memory the first rule of prudence: it is too dangerous to have the sharers of our profoundest secrets at court." This letter Petros sent on in advance with the two bishops, Hypatius and Demetrius, who were to go immediately to Brundusium, and thence through Epidamnos by land to Byzantium. He himself intended to follow in a few days, sailing slowly along the Gothic coasts of the Ionian Gulf, in order to prove the temper and excite the rebellion of the inhabitants of the harbour towns. He would afterwards sail round the Peloponnesus and Eub[oe]a to Byzantium, for the Empress had ordered him to travel by sea, and had given him commissions for Athens and Lampsacus. Before his departure from Ravenna, he already calculated the rewards he expected to receive at Byzantium for his successful operations in Italy. He would return twice as rich as he had come, for he had never confessed to the Queen, Gothelindis, that he had come into the country with the order to overthrow Amalaswintha. He had rather, for some time, met her with representations of the anger of the Empress and Emperor, and had, with great show of repugnance, allowed himself to be bribed with large sums to connive at her plans, when, actually, he but used her as his tool. He looked forward with certainty to the proud rank of patrician in Byzantium, and already rejoiced that he would be able to meet his haughty cousin, Narses--who had never used his influence to advance him--on equal terms. "So everything has succeeded better than I could wish," he said to himself with great complacency, as he set his papers in order before leaving Ravenna, "and this time, my proud friend Cethegus, cunning has proved truly excellent. The little rhetorician from Thessalonica, with his small and stealthy steps, has advanced farther than you with your proud strides. Of one thing I must be careful: that Theodahad and Gothelindis do not escape to Byzantium; it would be too dangerous. Perhaps the question of the astute Empress was intended as a warning. This royal couple must be put out of our way." Having completed his arrangements, Petros sent for the friend with whom he lodged, and took leave of him. At the same time he delivered to him a dark-coloured narrow vase, such as those which were used for the preservation of documents; he sealed the cover with his ring, which was finely engraved with a scorpion, and wrote a name upon the wax-tablet appended to it. "Seek this man," he said to his host, "at the next assembly of the Goths at Regeta, and give him the vase; the contents are his. Farewell. You shall soon see me again in Ravenna." He left the house with his slaves, and was soon on board the ambassador's ship; filled with proud expectations, he was borne away by the _Nemesis_. As his ship, many weeks after, neared the harbour of Byzantium--he had, at the Empress's wish, announced his speedy arrival at Lampsacus, by means of an imperial swift-sailer which was just leaving--Petros looked at the handsome country houses on the shore, which shone whitely from out of the evergreen shade of the surrounding gardens. "Here you will live in future, amongst the senators of the Empire," he thought with great contentment. Before they ran into the harbour, the _Thetis_, the splendid pleasure-boat of the Empress, flew towards them, and, as soon as she recognised the galley of the ambassador, hoisted the purple standard, as a sign to lay to. Very soon a messenger from the Empress came on board the galley. It was Alexandros, the former ambassador to the court of Ravenna. He showed to the captain of the galley a writing from the Emperor, at which the captain appeared to be much startled; then he turned to Petros. "In the name of the Emperor Justinian! You are condemned for life, convicted of long-practised forgery and embezzlement of the taxes, to the metal-works in the mines of Cherson, with the Ultra-Ziagirian Huns. You have delivered the daughter of Theodoric into the hands of her enemies. The Emperor thought you excused when he read your letter; but the Empress, inconsolable for the death of her royal sister, revealed your former guilt to the Emperor, and a letter from the Prefect of Rome proved that you had secretly planned the murder of the Princess with Gothelindis. Your fortune is confiscated, and the Empress wishes you to recollect--" here he whispered into the ear of Petros, who was completely stunned and broken by this terrible blow--"that you yourself, in your letter, advised her to get rid of all the sharers of her secrets." With this, Alexandros returned to the _Thetis_, but the _Nemesis_ turned her stern to Byzantium, and bore the criminal away for ever from all civilised community with mankind. CHAPTER VIII. We have lost sight of Cethegus ever since his departure for Rome. During the events which we have described, he had been extremely active in that city, for he saw that things were coming to a crisis, and looked forward with confidence to a favourable result. All Italy was united in hatred against the barbarians, and who could so well direct this hatred as the head of the conspiracy of the Catacombs, and the master of Rome? For now he was so in fact. The legions were fully formed and equipped, and the fortifications of the city--the works of which had been carried on for the last few months night and day--were almost completed. And, as he thought, he had finally succeeded preventing an immediate incursion of the Byzantine army into Italy, the greatest calamity which threatened his ambitious plans. He had learned, through trustworthy spies, that the Byzantine fleet--which, till now had been anchored off Sicily--had really left that island, and sailed towards the African coast, where seemed occupied in suppressing piracy. Cethegus certainly foresaw that it would yet come to a landing of the Greeks in Italy; he could not do without their help. But it was material to his plans that the Emperor's assistance should be of secondary importance, and, to insure this, he must take care that, before a single Byzantine had set foot in Italy, a rebellion of the Italians should have taken place spontaneously, and have been already carried to such a point, that the later co-operation of the Greeks would appear to be a mere incident, and could be easily repaid by the acknowledgment of a light supremacy of the Emperor. To this end he had prepared his plans with great nicety. As soon as the last tower on the Roman walls was under roof, the Goths were to be attacked on one and the same day all over Italy, and, at one stroke, all the fortresses, castles, and towns--Rome, Ravenna, and Neapolis foremost--were to be overpowered and taken. If the barbarians were once driven into the open country, there was no fear--considering their complete ignorance of the art of siege, and the number and strength of the Italian fortresses--that they would be able to take these last, and thereby again become masters of the peninsula. Then an allied army from Byzantium might aid in finally driving the Goths over the Alps; and Cethegus was resolved to prevent these allies from entering the most important fortresses, so that, later, they also might be got rid of without difficulty. To ensure the success of this plan, it was necessary that the Goths should be taken by surprise. If war with Byzantium were in prospect, or, still worse, already broken out, it naturally followed that the barbarians would not allow their fortified places to be wrested from them by a mere stroke of the hand. Now as Cethegus--since he had penetrated the motives of the embassy of Petros--fully expected that Justinian would come forward at the first opportunity, and as he had barely succeeded in preventing the landing of Belisarius, he was resolved not to lose a moment's time. He had arranged that a general meeting of the conspirators should take place in the Catacombs on the day of the completion of the Roman fortifications, when their successful termination should be celebrated, the moment of the attack on the Goths decided, and Cethegus himself designated as the leader of this purely Italian movement. He hoped to overcome the opposition of the timorous or the bribed--who were inclined to act only for and with the assistance of Byzantium--by the enthusiasm of the Roman youth, whom he would promise to lead at once to battle. Before the day of meeting arrived, he had heard the news of Amalaswintha's murder, and of the confusion and division of the Goths, and he impatiently longed for the crisis. At length the last tower of the Aurelian Grate was completed. Cethegus himself gave the finishing stroke, and as he did so it seemed to him that he heard the sound of the blow which would liberate Rome and Italy. At the banquet which he afterwards gave to thousands of labourers in the theatre of Pompey, most of the conspirators were present, and the Prefect made use of the opportunity to show them how unlimited was his popularity. Upon the younger members the impression which he wished and expected to make was produced, but a small party, headed by Silverius, retired from the tables with discontented and gloomy looks. The priest had lately seen that Cethegus would not consent to be a mere tool, but that he contrived to carry out his own plans, which might prove extremely dangerous to the Church and to his (the priest's) personal influence. He was decided to overthrow his colleague as soon as he could be spared, and it had not been difficult for him to excite the jealousy of many Romans against Cethegus. The wily archbishop had taken advantage of the presence of the two bishops from the Eastern Empire, Hypatius of Ephesus and Demetrius of Philippi--who secretly treated with the Pope in matters of faith, and with King Theodahad in affairs of policy--to enter into a close and secret alliance with Theodahad and Byzantium. "You are right, Silverius," grumbled Scævola, as they issued from the doors of the theatre, "the Prefect unites Marius and Cæsar in one person." "He does not throw away such immense sums for nothing," said the avaricious Albinus warningly; "we must not trust him too far." "Beloved brethren," said the priest, "see that you do not lightly condemn a member of our community. Who should do this would be worthy of hell-fire! Certainly Cethegus commands the fists of the workmen as well as the hearts of his young 'knights;' and it is well, for he can therewith break the tyranny----" "But at the same time he could replace it by new despotism," interrupted Calpurnius. "That he shall not, if daggers can still kill, as in the time of Brutus!" cried Scævola. "Bloodshed is not necessary. Consider; the nearer the tyrant, the more oppressive the tyranny; the farther the ruler, the more bearable his government. The power of the Prefect must be balanced by the power of the Emperor." "Yes," affirmed Albinus, who had received large sums from Byzantium, "the Emperor must become master of Italy." "That is," said Silverius, restraining Scævola, who would have interrupted indignantly, "we must keep down the Prefect by means of the Emperor, and the Emperor by means of the Prefect. See, we have arrived at the door of my house. Let us enter. I must tell you in confidence what will be made known to the assembly to-night. It will surprise you; but other people still more." Meanwhile the Prefect had also hurried home from the banquet, to prepare for his important work by lonely meditation. He did not think over his speech; he knew long ago what he had to say; and, a splendid orator, to whom words came as readily as thoughts, he willingly left the mode of expression to the impulse of the moment, knowing well that words which issue spontaneously from the heart, have the liveliest effect. But he sought for inward composure; for his passions were vividly excited. He thought over the steps which he had taken in order to reach his goal, since first he had been drawn towards it with demoniac force. He measured the short space which he had still to tread; he counted the difficulties and hindrances which lay upon his path, and measured the strength of mind with which he could overcome them; and the result of all this examination awakened in him a certainty of victory which filled him with youthful enthusiasm. He measured his room with rapid strides; the muscles of his arms swelled as if in the hour of battle; he girded himself with the broad and victorious sword of his former campaigns, and convulsively grasped the hilt as if he were about to fight for his Rome against two worlds: against Byzantium and the barbarians. He paused before the statue of Cæsar, and looked long at the silent marble face. "Farewell!" he cried, "give me thy good fortune upon my way. More I do not need." He turned quickly, and hurried out of the room and through the atrium into the street, where the first stars were already shining. The conspirators had assembled in the Catacombs on this evening in greater numbers than ever, for urgent invitations had been sent through all Italy. According to the wish of the Prefect, all strategically important places were represented at this meeting. Deputies had been sent from the strong warders of the frontiers, Tridentum, Tarvisium, and Verona, which behold the ice of the Alps; from Otorantum and Consentia, which are laved by the tepid waves of the Ausonian Sea; from all the celebrated towns of Sicily and Italy, with the proud, beautiful, and historic names: Syracuse and Catana, Panormus and Messana, Regium, Neapolis and Cumæ, Capua and Beneventum, Antium and Ostia, Reate and Narnia, Volsinii, Urbsvetus and Spoletum, Clusium and Perusia, Auximum and Ancona, Florentia and Fæsulas, Pisa, Luca, Luna and Genua; Ariminum, Casena, Faventia, and Ravenna; Parma, Dertona and Placentia; Mantua, Cremona, and Ticinum (Pavia); Mediolanum, Comum, and Bergamum; Asta and Pollentia; and from the northern and eastern coasts of the Ionian Gulf: Concordia, Aquileja, Iadera, Scardona, and Salona. There were grave senators and judges, who had grown grey in the councils of their towns, where their ancestors had been leaders for centuries; wise merchants, broad-shouldered proprietors, disputing jurists, mocking rhetoricians, and in particular a great number of clergy of all ranks and all ages: the only firmly organised party, and which was implicitly obedient to Silverius. As Cethegus, still concealed behind the corner of the narrow entrance, overlooked the groups assembled in the rotunda of the grotto, he could not restrain a contemptuous smile, which, however, ended in a sigh. Excepting the general dislike to the barbarians--which, however, was by no means strong enough to support the sacrifices and self-denial necessary to the accomplishment of difficult political plans--what different and often what small motives had led these men together! Cethegus knew exactly the motives of each individual: had he not been able to influence them by taking advantage of their foibles? And, after all, he could not but rejoice at this, for he could never have brought true Romans so completely under his influence as he had done these conspirators. But as he now looked at the assembled patriots, and reflected how one had been induced to join the discontented, in the hope of a title from Byzantium; another by bribery; another from revenge or on account of some personal offence, or even from tedium, or debts, or some foolish dilemma; and when he told himself that with _such_ colleagues he must meet the warriors of the Gothic army--he almost shrank from the temerity of his plan. It was some relief to him, when the clear voice of Lucius Licinius attracted his looks to the troop of young "knights," whose truly martial courage and national enthusiasm were expressed on their features; there at least he had a few trustworthy weapons. "Welcome! Lucius Licinius," he said, as he stepped out of the darkness of the passage, "Ha, ha! you are mailed and armed as if we were going straight from hence to meet the barbarians!" "I can scarcely contain myself for joy and hate!" cried the handsome youth. "Look here, all these I have won for you, for the cause of the fatherland." Cethegus looked round and greeted the others. "You here also, Kallistratos? you merry son of peace!" "Hellas will not desert her sister Italia in the hour of danger," said the Greek, and laid his white hand upon his elegant, ivory-hilted sword. Cethegus nodded to him and turned to the rest; Marcus Licinius, Piso, Massurius, Balbus, who, completely won for the Prefect since the feast of the Floralia, had brought with them their brothers, cousins, and friends. Cethegus looked searchingly through the groups; he seemed to miss some one. Lucius Licinius guessed his thoughts. "You seek the dark Corsican, Furius Ahalla? You must not reckon upon him. I sounded him thoroughly, but he said: 'I am a Corsican--no Roman. My trade flourishes under Gothic protection. Leave me out your game.' And when I pressed him further--for I would gladly win his brave sword and the many thousands of hands which he commands--he said abruptly: 'I will not fight against Totila.'" "The Gods alone know what binds the wild tiger to that milksop," said Piso. Cethegus smiled, but frowned as well. "I think we Romans will suffice," he said in a loud voice; and the youths looked at him with beating hearts. "Open the assembly," said Scævola impatiently to Silverius. "You see how he talks over the young people; he will win them all. Interrupt him; speak!" "Immediately. Are you sure that Albinus will come?" "He will; he waits for the messengers at the Appian gate." "Well," said the priest, "God be with us!" And he stepped into the middle of the rotunda, raised the black cross which he held, and began: "In the name of the Triune God! We have again assembled in the gloom of night for the works of light. Perhaps for the last time; for the Son of God, to whom the heretics refuse all honour, has wonderfully blessed our endeavours. Next to God, our warmest thanks are due to the noble Emperor Justinian and his pious spouse, who listen to the sighs of the suffering Church with active sympathy; and, lastly, to our friend and leader here, the Prefect, who zealously works for the cause of our master the Emperor----" "Stop, priest!" cried Lucius Licinius. "Who calls the Emperor of Byzantium our _master_? We will not have the Greeks instead of the Goths! We will be free!" "We will be free!" echoed the chorus of his friends. "We shall _become_ free!" continued Silverius. "Certainly! But that is not possible unaided. The Emperor must help us. And do not think, beloved youths, that the man whom you honour as your leader, Cethegus, is of a different opinion. Justinian has sent him a costly ring--his portrait in carneol--as a sign that he is contented with the Prefect's services, and the Prefect has accepted the ring. Behold, he wears it on his finger." Startled and indignant, the youths looked at Cethegus, who silently advanced into the middle of the room. A painful pause ensued. "Speak, General!" cried Lucius; "contradict him! It is not as he says with the ring!" But Cethegus nodded and drew off the ring. "It is as he says. The ring is from the Emperor, and I have accepted it." Lucius Licinius fell back a step. "As a sign?" asked Silverius. "As a sign," cried Cethegus, in a threatening voice, "that I am not the ambitious egoist for which many take me. As a sign that I love Italy more than my ambition. Yes, I built upon Byzantium, and would have given up the leadership to the mighty Emperor; therefore I took this ring. I build no more upon Byzantium, for she hesitates everlastingly: therefore I have brought the ring with me to-day, in order to return it to the Emperor. You, Silverius, have proved yourself the representative of Byzantium; here, return his pledge to your master; he delays too long. Tell him Italy will help herself!" "Italy will help herself!" shouted the young Romans. "Reflect what you do!" cried the priest with restrained anger. "I understand the hot courage of youth--but that my friend, the ripe and experienced man, stretches forth his hand for what is unattainable--_that_ surprises me! Remember the strength and ferocity of the barbarians! Reflect that the Italians are unused to arms, that all the fortresses of the country are in the hands----" "Be silent, priest," thundered Cethegus. "You do not understand such matters! Speak where the psalms have to be explained or souls led to heaven, for that is your office; but where war and fighting are concerned, let those speak who understand! We will leave you all heaven--leave the earth to us. Roman youths, you have the choice. Will you wait until this cautious Byzantium vouchsafes to take pity upon Italy?--you may become weary old men before then!--or will you in old Roman fashion, win freedom with your own swords? You will; I see it by your sparkling eyes. How? They tell us we are too weak to liberate Italy! Ha! were not your fathers Romans, who conquered the world? If I call upon you, man by man, there is not a name which does not ring with the fame of a hero. Decius, Corvinus, Cornelius, Valerius, Licinius--will you free the fatherland with me?" "We will! Lead us, Cethegus!" cried the youth with enthusiasm. After a pause Scævola began: "My name is Scævola. When the names of Roman heroes are cited, the race which inherits the heroism of the Celts might have been remembered. I ask you, Cethegus, have you more than dreams and wishes, like these young fools? have you a plan?" "More than that, Scævola, I have, and will keep, the victory! Here is a list of all the fortresses in Italy. At the next Ides, that is in thirty days, they will fall, at one blow, into my hands." "What? must we still wait thirty days?" asked Lucius. "Only till the deputies assembled here have again reached their towns. Only till my expresses have flown through Italy. You have _had_ to wait forty years!" But the impatience of the youths, which he himself had excited, was not to be subdued; they looked gloomy at the postponement--they murmured. The priest was quick to take advantage of this change of humour. "No, Cethegus," he cried; "we cannot delay so long! Tyranny is unbearable to the noble-minded; shame upon him who endures it longer than he must! I know of better comfort, youths! In a few days the spears of Belisarius may flash in Italian sunshine." "Or shall we, perhaps," asked Scævola, "refuse to follow Belisarius because he is not Cethegus?" "You speak of wishes," cried Cethegus, "not of realities. If Belisarius land, I shall be the first to join him. But he will not land. It is this which has disgusted me; the Emperor does not keep his word." Cethegus played a very bold game. But he could not do otherwise. "You may err," said Silverius, "and the Emperor may fulfil his promise sooner than you think. Belisarius lies off Sicily." "Not now. He has gone towards Africa, towards home. Hope nothing from Belisarius." Just then hasty steps were heard in the passage, and Albinus rushed in. "Triumph!" he cried. "Freedom! freedom!" "What news?" asked the priest. "War! deliverance! Byzantium has declared war against the Goths!" "Freedom! war!" shouted the Romans. "It is impossible!" said Cethegus. "It is certain!" cried another voice from the entrance--it was Calpurnius, who had followed close upon Albinus. "And, more than this, the war has commenced. Belisarius has landed in Sicily, at Catana; Syracusæ and Messana have surrendered; Panormus he has taken with the fleet. He has crossed to Italy, from Messana to Regium; he is upon Italian soil!" "Freedom!" cried Marcus Licinius. "Everywhere the population joins him. The Goths, taken by surprise, fly from Apulia and Calabria. Belisarius presses on without pause, through Bruttia and Lucania, to Neapolis." "It is all lies--lies!" cried Cethegus, more to himself than to the others. "You do not seem pleased at the success of the good cause! But the messenger rode three horses to death. Belisarius has landed with thirty thousand men." "Who still doubts is a traitor!" cried Scævola. "Now let us see," said Silverius to Cethegus sarcastically, "if you will keep your word. Will you be the first to join Belisarius?" At this bitter moment a whole world--_his_ world--sank before the eyes of Cethegus. So, then, all had been in vain; worse than that--what he had done, had been done for a hated enemy. Belisarius in Italy with a strong army, and he deceived, powerless, conquered! Any other man would have given up all further effort. But not a shadow of discouragement crossed the mind of the Prefect. His gigantic edifice was shattered; the noise of its fall still deafened him, and yet at the same moment he had already resolved to begin again. His world was destroyed, and he had no time even to sigh, for the eyes of all were fixed upon him. "Well, what will you do?" repeated Scævola. Cethegus disdained to look at him. He turned to the assembly, and spoke in a quiet voice: "Belisarius has landed," he said; "he is now our leader. I shall at once go to his camp." With this he walked, with measured steps and a composed countenance, past Silverius and his friends towards the exit. Silverius would have whispered a word of sarcasm, but he was startled at the glance which the Prefect cast upon him. "Do not rejoice too soon, priest," it seemed to say; "you will repent this hour!" And Silverius, the victor, was dumb. CHAPTER IX. The landing of the Byzantines had taken both Goths and Italians by surprise; for the last move of Belisarius to the east had misled both parties. Of all our Gothic friends, Totila alone was in South Italy. He had, in his office as commodore and Count of the Harbour of Neapolis, in vain warned the Government of Ravenna of the impending danger, and begged for the power and means of defending Sicily. We shall see how he had been deprived of all possibility of preventing the catastrophe which threatened to overwhelm his nation, and which was to throw the first shadow upon the brilliant path of his own life, and tear the web of good fortune which a happy fate had, until now, woven about this favourite of the gods. Valerius, who, though stern, had a noble and kindly nature, had soon been won by Totila's irresistible amiability. We have seen how strongly the prayers of his daughter, the memory of his wife's last words, and Totila's frankness, had influenced the worthy man, even when he was irritated at the discovery of the lovers' secret meetings. Totila remained at the villa as a guest. Julius, with his winning affection, was called upon to help the lovers, and to their united influence the father gradually yielded. But this was only possible because Totila assimilated to the Romans more nearly in manners, education, and inclinations than any other Goth: so that Valerius soon saw that he could not call a youth a "barbarian" who knew and appreciated the language, wisdom, and beauty of Hellenic and Roman literature better than most Italians, and admired the culture of the ancient world no less than he loved his fellow-countrymen. And, in addition to all this, a common hatred of Byzantium united the old Roman and the young German. The Valerians had always belonged to the aristocratic Republican opposition against the Cæsars, and, since the time of Tiberius, many a member of this family had sealed with his blood his fidelity to the cause of Old Republicanism. The family had never really acknowledged the removal of the Empire of the World from the city on the Tiber to that on the Bosphorus. In the Byzantine imperial dignity Valerius beheld the acme of all tyranny, and, at any cost, would gladly have saved his Latium from the avarice, religious intolerance, and Oriental despotism of the Byzantine Emperors. Added to this, the father and brother of Valerius had been arrested at Byzantium by an avaricious predecessor of Justinian, while passing through that city, and, on pretence of participation in a conspiracy, had been executed, and all their eastern possessions had been confiscated; so that private loss considerably strengthened the political hatred of the patriot. When Cethegus introduced him to the conspiracy of the Catacombs, he had eagerly taken up the idea of an Italian rebellion; but had repulsed all advances of the imperial party with the words, "Rather death than Byzantium!" So the two, Valerius and Totila, were unanimous in the resolution to tolerate no Byzantine in their beloved country, which was scarcely less dear to the Goth than to the Roman. The lovers took care not to press the old man, at present, to make any formal promise; they contented themselves with the freedom of intercourse allowed by Valerius, and waited quietly until the influence of habit should gradually accustom him to the thought of their ultimate union. Our young friends thus passed many happy days, and, added to the bliss of their mutual love, they had the delight of witnessing the growing affection of Valerius for Totila. Julius was filled with the noble exaltation which lies in the sacrifice of one's own passion for the sake of another's happiness. His soul, unsatisfied by the wisdom of old philosophy, turned more and more to the doctrine which teaches that peace is only to be found in self-denial. Valeria was of a very different nature. She was the true expression of the Roman ideal of her father, who had conducted her education in place of her early-lost mother, and had imbued her with the spirit of the antique Pagans. Christianity--to which she hard been dedicated by an outward form at the very commencement of her life, and from which she had afterwards been wrested by an equally external formality--seemed to her a fearful power, by no means loved or understood, but which, nevertheless, she could not exclude from the circle of her thoughts and feelings. Like a true Roman, she noticed with joy and pride, not with dismay, the martial enthusiasm with which Totila spoke to her father in their conversations concerning Byzantium. She felt that he was born to be a hero, and so, when duty suddenly called him away from love and friendship, she bore the parting with noble self-control. For as soon as the Byzantine fleet was known to be cruising off Syracusæ, the young Goth was inflamed with an insatiable thirst for war. It was his duty, as commodore of the South Italian squadron, to watch the movements of the enemy and protect the coast. He promptly set sail to meet the Grecian fleet, and demanded the reason of its appearance in those waters. Belisarius, who had orders to avoid all inimical proceedings until called upon to commence hostilities by Petros, gave a peaceful and plausible answer, alleging as his pretext the disturbances in Africa and the piracies of Mauritanian ships. Totila was obliged to content himself with this reply, but in his heart he was sure that the war would soon break out; perhaps only because he so ardently desired it. He therefore took all precautions: sent messengers with warnings to Ravenna, and, above all, essayed to protect the city of Neapolis at least towards the sea, for the inland fortifications had fallen into decay during the long peace, and old Uliaris, the commander of the city, was not to be shaken out of his proud security and contempt of the Greeks. The Goths in general cherished the dangerous delusion that the Byzantines would never dare to attack them; and their treacherous King did all in his power to strengthen this belief. The warnings of Totila, therefore, were disregarded, and the zealous commodore was even deprived of his whole fleet, which was ordered to the Harbour of Ravenna, on the pretext of an exchange; but the ships which should have replaced those which had sailed away never arrived. So Totila had nothing left but a few small guardships, with which, as he declared to his friends, he could not even sufficiently watch the movements of the enemy, much less prevent their advance. When apprised of all this, the merchant determined to leave his villa at Neapolis, and to go to his rich estates and mercantile establishments at Regium, on the south point of the peninsula, in order to remove all his most valuable property from that neighbourhood--where Totila feared the first attack of the enemy--and bring it to Neapolis; and also to make his preparations in case of a prolonged war. Julius was to accompany him on this journey; and Valeria was not to be persuaded to remain behind in the empty villa; so, as Totila assured them that no danger was to be feared for the next few days, the three, accompanied by a few slaves, journeyed to the villa on the estate near the Pass of Jugum, to the north of Regium, which, situated close to the sea, was partly, with all the luxury already so severely blamed by Horace, "daringly built out" into the very sea itself. Valerius found things in a bad condition. His stewards, taking advantage of the prolonged absence of their master, had made sad work, and Valerius saw with indignation that, in order to repair the mischief, his presence would be necessary, not for days, but for weeks. Meanwhile the threatening symptoms increased. Totila sent many warning messages; but Valeria decided that she could not leave her father while in danger, and the latter scorned to fly before the "degenerate Greeks," whom he still more despised than hated. One day they were surprised by the arrival of two boats, which ran into the little harbour of the villa at Regium almost at the same moment. One brought Totila; the other the Corsican, Furius Ahalla. The two greeted each other with surprise, but, as old acquaintances, were well pleased to meet, and walked together through the taxus-hedges and laurel walks to the villa. There they parted, Totila saying that he wished to pay a visit to his friend Julius, while the Corsican had business with the merchant, with whom he had for years been connected in a commerce which was equally advantageous to both parties. Valerius was therefore much pleased to see the clever, bold, and handsome sailor enter his room, and after a hearty welcome, the two business-friends turned to their books and accounts. After some short discussion, the Corsican rose from his examination of the books, and said: "So you see, Valerius, that Mercurius has again blessed our connection. My ships have brought you purple and costly woollen stuffs from Ph[oe]nicia and Spain; and taken your exquisite manufactures of last year to Byzantium and Alexandria, to Massilia and Antiochia. A centenarius of gold more profit than last year! And so it will go on rising from year to year, so long as the brave Goths uphold peace and justice in the West." He ceased, as if in expectation. "So long as they _can_ uphold it!" sighed Valerius. "So long as these Greeks keep the peace! Who can guarantee that to-night the sea-breeze may not drive the ships of Belisarius towards these coasts!" "So you, too, expect war? In confidence: it is more than probable, it is certain." "Furius!" cried the Roman, "how do you know that?" "I come from Africa--from Sicily. I have seen the fleet of the Emperor. One does not arm against pirates in such a manner. I have spoken to the captains of Belisarius; they dream night and day of the treasures of Italy. Sicily is ripe for defection, as soon as the Greeks land." Valerius grew pale with excitement. Furius remarked it, and continued. "For this reason I have come here to warn you. The enemy will land in this vicinity, and I know--that your daughter is with you." "Valeria is a Roman." "Yes, but these enemies are the most ferocious barbarians. For it is Huns, Massagetæ, Scythians, Avari, Sclavonians, and Saracens which this Emperor of the Romans lets loose upon Italy! Woe to your lovely child should she fall into their hands." "That she shall not!" cried Valerius, his hand upon his dagger. "But you are right--she must go--she must be placed in safety." "Where is safety in Italy? Soon the billows of the conflict will roll over Neapolis--over Rome--and will scarcely break against the walls of Ravenna!" "Do you think so highly of these Greeks? Yet Greece has never sent anything to Italy but mimes, pirates, and pickpockets!" "But Belisarius is the favourite of fortune. At all events, a war will be kindled, the end of which many of you will not outlive!" "Of _us_, you say? Will not _you_ fight with us?" "No, Valerius! You know that pure Corsican blood flows in my veins, in spite of my adopted Roman name. I am no Roman, no Greek, and no Goth. I wish the Goths the victory, because they keep order on land and sea, and my trade flourishes under their sway; but were I to fight openly on their side, the exchequer of Byzantium would swallow up all that I possess in ships and goods in the harbours of the East: three-fourths of my whole fortune. No, I intend so to fortify my island--you know that half Corsica is mine--that neither of the disputants can molest me. My island shall be an asylum of peace, while round about land and water echo with the noise of battle. I shall defend this asylum as a king defends his crown, or a bridegroom his bride; and therefore"--his eyes sparkled, and his voice trembled with excitement--"therefore I wish--now--to speak a word which for years I have carried hidden in my heart----" He hesitated. Valerius saw beforehand what was coming, and saw it with deep regret. For years he had pleased himself with the thought of entrusting his daughter's happiness to this powerful merchant, the adopted son of an old friend, of whose affection to Valeria he had long been aware. Although he had learned to love Totila, he would far rather have had his old friend for a son-in-law. And he knew the ungovernable pride and irritable temper of the Corsican; he feared, in case of refusal, that the old love and friendship would be speedily changed to burning hate. Dark stories were told of the wild rage of this man, and Valerius would gladly have spared both him and himself the pain of a rejection. But the other continued: "I think we are both men who do business in a business-like manner. And, according to old custom, I speak at once to the father, and not first to the daughter. Give me your child to wife, Valerius! In part you know my fortune--only in part--for it is far larger than you think. I will match her dowry, be it never so splendid, with the double----" "Furius!" interrupted the father. "I think I am a man who can make his wife happy. At least, I can protect her better than any one else in these dangerous times. I will take her in my ships, should Corsica be threatened, to Asia or to Africa. On every coast there awaits her, not a house, but a palace. No queen could envy her. I will cherish, her more dearly--more dearly than my life!" He paused in extreme agitation, as if expecting a prompt reply. Valerius was silent, he sought for an excuse--it was but a moment, but the bare appearance of hesitation on the father's part revolted the Corsican. The blood rushed to his handsome face, which, just before almost soft and mild, suddenly assumed an aspect of ferocity; a vivid red flush spread over his brown cheeks. "Furius Ahalla," he said hastily, "is not accustomed to offer a thing twice. Usually my wares, at the first offer, are snatched at with both hands. I now offer myself--by God! I am not worse than my purple---- "My friend," began the old man, "we no longer live in ancient times. The new belief has almost deprived a father of the right to dispose of his daughter. My _will_ would give her to you and to no other, but her heart----" "She loves another!" cried the Corsican, "whom?" And his hand caught at his dagger, as if he would gladly have killed his rival on the instant. There was something of the tiger in this movement, and in the glare of his rolling eyes. Valerius felt how deadly would be his hatred, and would not mention the name. "Who can it be?" asked Furius, in an under tone. "A Roman? Montanus? No! Oh, only--only not _he_--say no, old man! not he----" and he caught Valerius by the sleeve. "Who? Whom do you mean?" "He, who landed with me--the Goth! But yes it must be he--every one loves him--Totila!" "It is he," said Valerius, and kindly tried to take his friend's hand. But he released it again in terror; a fearful convulsion shook the iron frame of the strong Corsican. He stretched forth his hand stiffly, as if he would strangle the pain which tortured him. Then he tossed back his head, and, laughing wildly, struck his forehead repeatedly. Valerius observed this mad fit with horror. At last the arms of the enraged man slowly dropped, and revealed an ashy-pale face. "It is over," said Furius in a trembling voice. "It is a curse that lies upon me. I am never to be happy in a wife. Once before--just before accomplishment! And now! I know that Valeria's influence and quiet composure would have brought peace into my wild life--I should have become different, better. And if this could not have been"--his eyes again sparkled--"it would have been almost equally sweet to murder the destroyer of my happiness. Yes, I would have wallowed in his blood, and torn his bride away from his corpse! And now it is _he_! He, the only being to whom Ahalla owes gratitude--and what gratitude!----" He was silent, nodding his head as if lost in recollection. "Valerius," he then said, suddenly rousing himself, "I would yield to no man on earth--I could not have borne to give place to another--but Totila! I will forgive her for not loving me, because she has chosen Totila. Farewell, Valerius, old friend. I go to sea; to Persia, to India--I know not whither--ah! everywhere I shall carry with me the bitter pain of this hour!" He went quickly out, and immediately afterwards his arrow-swift boat bore him away from the little harbour of the villa. Valerius left the room sighing, and went in search of his daughter. In the atrium he met Totila, who was obliged to take leave at once. He had only come to try to persuade them to return to Neapolis. For Belisarius had left the African coast and was cruising near Panormus, and any day a descent might be effected in Sicily or even Italy; and, in spite of Totila's insistence, the King had sent no ships. He himself was shortly going to Sicily to convince himself of the truth. His friends, therefore, were here totally unprotected, and he begged Valerius to return forthwith to Neapolis by land. But it revolted the old soldier to fly before the Greeks; he could not and would not leave his affairs before three days; and Totila could scarcely persuade him to accept a small troop of twenty Goths as a poor protection. With a heavy heart Totila entered his boat and was taken back to his guardship. It was almost dark when he arrived on board; a veil of mist shrouded the nearest objects. All at once the sound of oars was heard to the west, and a ship, recognisable by the red light on the tall mast, turned the point of a small promontory. Totila listened, and asked his look-out: "A sail to the left! what ship? what master?" "It is already signalled from the mast-head," was the reply, "merchant-ship--Furius Ahalla--lay at anchor here." "Where bound?" "For the East--for India!" FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: A place for wrestling and other exercises.] [Footnote 2: The most valued wood--not the modern citron-tree.] [Footnote 3: Pine-wood.] [Footnote 4: A Grecian rider's upper garment, worn by the Romans of that time.] [Footnote 5: An epocha of the Roman calendar instituted by Constantine the Great.] END OF VOL. I. BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD, SURREY. _H. L. & Co._ 
16765	----	PROCOPIUS With an English Translation by H. B. Dewing In Seven Volumes II HISTORY OF THE WARS, BOOKS III AND IV London William Heinemann Ltd Cambridge, Massachusetts Harvard University Press MCMLXXI First Printed 1916 CONTENTS HISTORY OF THE WARS-- PAGE BOOK III.--THE VANDALIC WAR 1 BOOK IV.--THE VANDALIC WAR _(CONTINUED)_ 209 INDEX 461 PROCOPIUS OF CAESAREA HISTORY OF THE WARS. BOOK III THE VANDALIC WAR I Such, then, was the final outcome of the Persian War for the Emperor Justinian; and I shall now proceed to set forth all that he did against the Vandals and the Moors. But first shall be told whence came the host of the Vandals when they descended upon the land of the Romans. After Theodosius, the Roman Emperor, had departed from the world, having proved himself one of the most just of men and an able warrior, his kingdom was taken over by his two sons, Arcadius, the elder, receiving the Eastern portion, and Honorius, the younger, the Western. [Jan. 17, 395 A.D.] But the Roman power had been thus divided as far back as the time of Constantine and his sons; for he transferred his government to Byzantium, and making the city larger and much more renowned, allowed it to be named after him. Now the earth is surrounded by a circle of ocean, either entirely or for the most part (for our knowledge is not as yet at all clear in this matter); and it is split into two continents by a sort of outflow from the ocean, a flow which enters at the western part and forms this Sea which we know, beginning at Gadira[1] and extending all the way to the Maeotic Lake.[2] Of these two continents the one to the right, as one sails into the Sea, as far as the Lake, has received the name of Asia, beginning at Gadira and at the southern[3] of the two Pillars of Heracles. Septem[4] is the name given by the natives to the fort at that point, since seven hills appear there; for "septem" has the force of "seven" in the Latin tongue. And the whole continent opposite this was named Europe. And the strait at that point separates the two continents[5] by about eighty-four stades, but from there on they are kept apart by wide expanses of sea as far as the Hellespont. For at this point they again approach each other at Sestus and Abydus, and once more at Byzantium and Chalcedon as far as the rocks called in ancient times the "Dark Blue Rocks," where even now is the place called Hieron. For at these places the continents are separated from one another by a distance of only ten stades and even less than that. Now the distance from one of the Pillars of Heracles to the other, if one goes along the shore and does not pass around the Ionian Gulf and the sea called the Euxine but crosses from Chalcedon[6] to Byzantium and from Dryous[7] to the opposite mainland,[8] is a journey of two hundred and eighty-five days for an unencumbered traveller. For as to the land about the Euxine Sea, which extends from Byzantium to the Lake, it would be impossible to tell everything with precision, since the barbarians beyond the Ister River, which they also call the Danube, make the shore of that sea quite impossible for the Romans to traverse--except, indeed, that from Byzantium to the mouth of the Ister is a journey of twenty-two days, which should be added to the measure of Europe by one making the computation. And on the Asiatic side, that is from Chalcedon to the Phasis River, which, flowing from the country of the Colchians, descends into the Pontus, the journey is accomplished in forty days. So that the whole Roman domain, according to the distance along the sea at least, attains the measure of a three hundred and forty-seven days' journey, if, as has been said, one ferries over the Ionian Gulf, which extends about eight hundred stades from Dryous. For the passage across the gulf[9] amounts to a journey of not less than four days. Such, then, was the size of the Roman empire in the ancient times. And there fell to him who held the power in the West the most of Libya, extending ninety days' journey--for such is the distance from Gadira to the boundaries of Tripolis in Libya; and in Europe he received as his portion territory extending seventy-five days' journey--for such is the distance from the northern[10] of the Pillars of Heracles to the Ionian Gulf.[11] And one might add also the distance around the gulf. And the emperor of the East received territory extending one hundred and twenty days' journey, from the boundaries of Cyrene in Libya as far as Epidamnus, which lies on the Ionian Gulf and is called at the present time Dyrrachium, as well as that portion of the country about the Euxine Sea which, as previously stated, is subject to the Romans. Now one day's journey extends two hundred and ten stades,[12] or as far as from Athens to Megara. Thus, then, the Roman emperors divided either continent between them. And among the islands Britain, which is outside the Pillars of Heracles and by far the largest of all islands, was counted, as is natural, with the West; and inside the Pillars, Ebusa,[13] which lies in the Mediterranean in what we may call the Propontis, just inside the opening where the ocean enters, about seven days' journey from the opening, and two others near it, Majorica and Minorica, as they are called by the natives, were also assigned to the Western empire. And each of the islands in the Sea itself fell to the share of that one of the two emperors within whose boundaries it happened to lie. II Now while Honorius was holding the imperial power in the West, barbarians took possession of his land; and I shall tell who they were and in what manner they did so. [395-423 A.D.] There were many Gothic nations in earlier times, just as also at the present, but the greatest and most important of all are the Goths, Vandals, Visigoths, and Gepaedes. In ancient times, however, they were named Sauromatae and Melanchlaeni;[14] and there were some too who called these nations Getic. All these, while they are distinguished from one another by their names, as has been said, do not differ in anything else at all. For they all have white bodies and fair hair, and are tall and handsome to look upon, and they use the same laws and practise a common religion. For they are all of the Arian faith, and have one language called Gothic; and, as it seems to me, they all came originally from one tribe, and were distinguished later by the names of those who led each group. This people used to dwell above the Ister River from of old. Later on the Gepaedes got possession of the country about Singidunum[15] and Sirmium,[16] on both sides of the Ister River, where they have remained settled even down to my time. But the Visigoths, separating from the others, removed from there and at first entered into an alliance with the Emperor Arcadius, but at a later time (for faith with the Romans cannot dwell in barbarians), under the leadership of Alaric, they became hostile to both emperors, and, beginning with Thrace, treated all Europe as an enemy's land. Now the Emperor Honorius had before this time been sitting in Rome, with never a thought of war in his mind, but glad, I think, if men allowed him to remain quiet in his palace. But when word was brought that the barbarians with a great army were not far off, but somewhere among the Taulantii,[17] he abandoned the palace and fled in disorderly fashion to Ravenna, a strong city lying just about at the end of the Ionian Gulf, while some say that he brought in the barbarians himself, because an uprising had been started against him among his subjects; but this does not seem to me trustworthy, as far, at least, as one can judge of the character of the man. And the barbarians, finding that they had no hostile force to encounter them, became the most cruel of all men. For they destroyed all the cities which they captured, especially those south of the Ionian Gulf, so completely that nothing has been left to my time to know them by, unless, indeed, it might be one tower or one gate or some such thing which chanced to remain. And they killed all the people, as many as came in their way, both old and young alike, sparing neither women nor children. Wherefore even up to the present time Italy is sparsely populated. They also gathered as plunder all the money out of all Europe, and, most important of all, they left in Rome nothing whatever of public or private wealth when they moved on to Gaul. But I shall now tell how Alaric captured Rome. After much time had been spent by him in the siege, and he had not been able either by force or by any other device to capture the place, he formed the following plan. Among the youths in the army whose beards had not yet grown, but who had just come of age, he chose out three hundred whom he knew to be of good birth and possessed of valour beyond their years, and told them secretly that he was about to make a present of them to certain of the patricians in Rome, pretending that they were slaves. And he instructed them that, as soon as they got inside the houses of those men, they should display much gentleness and moderation and serve them eagerly in whatever tasks should be laid upon them by their owners; and he further directed them that not long afterwards, on an appointed day at about midday, when all those who were to be their masters would most likely be already asleep after their meal, they should all come to the gate called Salarian and with a sudden rush kill the guards, who would have no previous knowledge of the plot, and open the gates as quickly as possible. After giving these orders to the youths, Alaric straightway sent ambassadors to the members of the senate, stating that he admired them for their loyalty toward their emperor, and that he would trouble them no longer, because of their valour and faithfulness, with which it was plain that they were endowed to a remarkable degree, and in order that tokens of himself might be preserved among men both noble and brave, he wished to present each one of them with some domestics. After making this declaration and sending the youths not long afterwards, he commanded the barbarians to make preparations for the departure, and he let this be known to the Romans. And they heard his words gladly, and receiving the gifts began to be exceedingly happy, since they were completely ignorant of the plot of the barbarian. For the youths, by being unusually obedient to their owners, averted suspicion, and in the camp some were already seen moving from their positions and raising the siege, while it seemed that the others were just on the point of doing the very same thing. But when the appointed day had come, Alaric armed his whole force for the attack and was holding them in readiness close by the Salarian Gate; for it happened that he had encamped there at the beginning of the siege. And all the youths at the time of the day agreed upon came to this gate, and, assailing the guards suddenly, put them to death; then they opened the gates and received Alaric and the army into the city at their leisure. [Aug. 24, 410 A.D.] And they set fire to the houses which were next to the gate, among which was also the house of Sallust, who in ancient times wrote the history of the Romans, and the greater part of this house has stood half-burned up to my time; and after plundering the whole city and destroying the most of the Romans, they moved on. At that time they say that the Emperor Honorius in Ravenna received the message from one of the eunuchs, evidently a keeper of the poultry, that Rome had perished. And he cried out and said, "And yet it has just eaten from my hands!" For he had a very large cock, Rome by name; and the eunuch comprehending his words said that it was the city of Rome which had perished at the hands of Alaric, and the emperor with a sigh of relief answered quickly: "But I, my good fellow, thought that my fowl Rome had perished." So great, they say, was the folly with which this emperor was possessed. But some say that Rome was not captured in this way by Alaric, but that Proba, a woman of very unusual eminence in wealth and in fame among the Roman senatorial class, felt pity for the Romans who were being destroyed by hunger and the other suffering they endured; for they were already even tasting each other's flesh; and seeing that every good hope had left them, since both the river and the harbour were held by the enemy, she commanded her domestics, they say, to open the gates by night. Now when Alaric was about to depart from Rome, he declared Attalus, one of their nobles, emperor of the Romans, investing him with the diadem and the purple and whatever else pertains to the imperial dignity. And he did this with the intention of removing Honorius from his throne and of giving over the whole power in the West to Attalus. With such a purpose, then, both Attalus and Alaric were going with a great army against Ravenna. But this Attalus was neither able to think wisely himself, nor to be persuaded by one who had wisdom to offer. So while Alaric did not by any means approve the plan, Attalus sent commanders to Libya without an army. Thus, then, were these things going on. And the island of Britain revolted from the Romans, and the soldiers there chose as their king Constantinus, a man of no mean station. [407 A.D.] And he straightway gathered a fleet of ships and a formidable army and invaded both Spain and Gaul with a great force, thinking to enslave these countries. But Honorius was holding ships in readiness and waiting to see what would happen in Libya, in order that, if those sent by Attalus were repulsed, he might himself sail for Libya and keep some portion of his own kingdom, while if matters there should go against him, he might reach Theodosius and remain with him. For Arcadius had already died long before, and his son Theodosius, still a very young child,[18] held the power of the East. [408-450 A.D.] But while Honorius was thus anxiously awaiting the outcome of these events and tossed amid the billows of uncertain fortune, it so chanced that some wonderful pieces of good fortune befell him. For God is accustomed to succour those who are neither clever nor able to devise anything of themselves, and to lend them assistance, if they be not wicked, when they are in the last extremity of despair; such a thing, indeed, befell this emperor. For it was suddenly reported from Libya that the commanders of Attalus had been destroyed, and that a host of ships was at hand from Byzantium with a very great number of soldiers who had come to assist him, though he had not expected them, and that Alaric, having quarrelled with Attalus, had stripped him of the emperor's garb and was now keeping him under guard in the position of a private citizen. [411 A.D.] And afterwards Alaric died of disease, and the army of the Visigoths under the leadership of Adaulphus proceeded into Gaul, and Constantinus, defeated in battle, died with his sons. However the Romans never succeeded in recovering Britain, but it remained from that time on under tyrants. And the Goths, after making the crossing of the Ister, at first occupied Pannonia, but afterwards, since the emperor gave them the right, they inhabited the country of Thrace. And after spending no great time there they conquered the West. But this will be told in the narrative concerning the Goths. III Now the Vandals dwelling about the Maeotic Lake, since they were pressed by hunger, moved to the country of the Germans, who are now called Franks, and the river Rhine, associating with themselves the Alani, a Gothic people. Then from there, under the leadership of Godigisclus, they moved and settled in Spain, which is the first land of the Roman empire on the side of the ocean. At that time Honorius made an agreement with Godigisclus that they should settle there on condition that it should not be to the detriment of the country. But there was a law among the Romans, that if any persons should fail to keep their property in their own possession, and if, meanwhile, a time amounting to thirty years should pass, that these persons should thenceforth not be entitled to proceed against those who had forced them out, but they were excluded by demurrer[19] from access to the court; and in view of this he established a law that whatever time should be spent by the Vandals in the Roman domain should not by any means be counted toward this thirty-year demurrer. And Honorius himself, when the West had been driven by him to this pass, died of disease. [Aug. 27, 423 A.D.] Now before this, as it happened, the royal power had been shared by Honorius with Constantius, the husband of Placidia, the sister of Arcadius and Honorius; but he lived to exercise the power only a few days, and then, becoming seriously ill, he died while Honorius was still living, [421 A.D.] having never succeeded in saying or in doing anything worth recounting; for the time was not sufficient during which he lived in possession of the royal power. Now a son of this Constantius, Valentinian, a child just weaned, was being reared in the palace of Theodosius, but the members of the imperial court in Rome chose one of the soldiers there, John by name, as emperor. This man was both gentle and well-endowed with sagacity and thoroughly capable of valorous deeds. At any rate he held the tyranny five years[20] and directed it with moderation, and he neither gave ear to slanderers nor did he do any unjust murder, willingly at least, nor did he set his hand to robbing men of money; but he did not prove able to do anything at all against the barbarians, since his relations with Byzantium were hostile. Against this John, Theodosius, the son of Arcadius, sent a great army and Aspar and Ardaburius, the son of Aspar, as generals, and wrested from him the tyranny and gave over the royal power to Valentinian, who was still a child. And Valentinian took John alive, and he brought him out in the hippodrome of Aquileia with one of his hands cut off and caused him to ride in state on an ass, and then after he had suffered much ill treatment from the stage-performers there, both in word and in deed, he put him to death. [426 A.D.] Thus Valentinian took over the power of the West. But Placidia, his mother, had reared this emperor and educated him in an altogether effeminate manner, and in consequence he was filled with wickedness from childhood. For he associated mostly with sorcerers and those who busy themselves with the stars, and, being an extraordinarily zealous pursuer of love affairs with other men's wives, he conducted himself in a most indecent manner, although he was married to a woman of exceptional beauty. [455 A.D.] And not only was this true, but he also failed to recover for the empire anything of what had been wrested from it before, and he both lost Libya in addition to the territory previously lost and was himself destroyed. And when he perished, it fell to the lot of his wife and his children to become captives. Now the disaster in Libya came about as follows. There were two Roman generals, Aetius and Boniface, especially valiant men and in experience of many wars inferior to none of that time at least. These two came to be at variance in regard to matters of state, but they attained to such a degree of highmindedness and excellence in every respect that if one should call either of them "the last of the Romans" he would not err, so true was it that all the excellent qualities of the Romans were summed up in these two men. One of these, Boniface, was appointed by Placidia general of all Libya. Now this was not in accord with the wishes of Aetius, but he by no means disclosed the fact that it did not please him. For their hostility had not as yet come to light, but was concealed behind the countenance of each. But when Boniface had got out of the way, Aetius slandered him to Placidia, saying that he was setting up a tyranny and had robbed her and the emperor of all Libya, and he said that it was very easy for her to find out the truth; for if she should summon Boniface to Rome, he would never come. And when the woman heard this, Aetius seemed to her to speak well and she acted accordingly. But Aetius, anticipating her, wrote to Boniface secretly that the mother of the emperor was plotting against him and wished to put him out of the way. And he predicted to him that there would be convincing proof of the plot; for he would be summoned very shortly for no reason at all. Such was the announcement of the letter. And Boniface did not disregard the message, for as soon as those arrived who were summoning him to the emperor, he refused to give heed to the emperor and his mother, disclosing to no one the warning of Aetius. So when Placidia heard this, she thought that Aetius was exceedingly well-disposed towards the emperor's cause and took under consideration the question of Boniface. But Boniface, since it did not seem to him that he was able to array himself against the emperor, and since if he returned to Rome there was clearly no safety for him, began to lay plans so that, if possible, he might have a defensive alliance with the Vandals, who, as previously stated, had established themselves in Spain not far from Libya. There Godigisclus had died and the royal power had fallen to his sons, Gontharis, who was born to him from his wedded wife, and Gizeric,[21] of illegitimate birth. But the former was still a child and not of very energetic temper, while Gizeric had been excellently trained in warfare, and was the cleverest of all men. Boniface accordingly sent to Spain those who were his own most intimate friends and gained the adherence of each of the sons of Godigisclus on terms of complete equality, it being agreed that each one of the three, holding a third part of Libya, should rule over his own subjects; but if a foe should come against any one of them to make war, that they should in common ward off the aggressors. On the basis of this agreement the Vandals crossed the strait at Gadira and came into Libya, and the Visigoths in later times settled in Spain. But in Rome the friends of Boniface, remembering the character of the man and considering how strange his action was, were greatly astonished to think that Boniface was setting up a tyranny, and some of them at the order of Placidia went to Carthage. There they met Boniface, and saw the letter of Aetius, and after hearing the whole story they returned to Rome as quickly as they could and reported to Placidia how Boniface stood in relation to her. And though the woman was dumbfounded, she did nothing unpleasant to Aetius nor did she upbraid him for what he had done to the emperor's house, for he himself wielded great power and the affairs of the empire were already in an evil plight; but she disclosed to the friends of Boniface the advice Aetius had given, and, offering oaths and pledges of safety, entreated them to persuade the man, if they could, to return to his fatherland and not to permit the empire of the Romans to lie under the hand of barbarians. And when Boniface heard this, he repented of his act and of his agreement with the barbarians, and he besought them incessantly, promising them everything, to remove from Libya. But since they did not receive his words with favour, but considered that they were being insulted, he was compelled to fight with them, and being defeated in the battle, he retired to Hippo[22] Regius, a strong city in the portion of Numidia that is on the sea. There the Vandals made camp under the leadership of Gizeric and began a siege; for Gontharis had already died. And they say that he perished at the hand of his brother. The Vandals, however, do not agree with those who make this statement, but say that Gontharis' was captured in battle by Germans in Spain and impaled, and that Gizeric was already sole ruler when he led the Vandals into Libya. This, indeed, I have heard from the Vandals, stated in this way. But after much time had passed by, since they were unable to secure Hippo Regius either by force or by surrender, and since at the same time they were being pressed by hunger, they raised the siege. And a little later Boniface and the Romans in Libya, since a numerous army had come from both Rome and Byzantium and Aspar with them as general, decided to renew the struggle, and a fierce battle was fought in which they were badly beaten by the enemy, and they made haste to flee as each one could. And Aspar betook himself homeward, and Boniface, coming before Placidia, acquitted himself of the suspicion, showing that it had arisen against him for no true cause. IV So the Vandals, having wrested Libya from the Romans in this way, made it their own. And those of the enemy whom they took alive they reduced to slavery and held under guard. Among these happened to be Marcian, who later upon the death of Theodosius assumed the imperial power. At that time, however, Gizeric commanded that the captives be brought into the king's courtyard, in order that it might be possible for him, by looking at them, to know what master each of them might serve without degradation. And when they were gathered under the open sky, about midday, the season being summer, they were distressed by the sun and sat down. And somewhere or other among them Marcian, quite neglected, was sleeping. Then an eagle flew over him spreading out his wings, as they say, and always remaining in the same place in the air he cast a shadow over Marcian alone. And Gizeric, upon seeing from the upper storey what was happening, since he was an exceedingly discerning person, suspected that the thing was a divine manifestation, and summoning the man enquired of him who he might be. And he replied that he was a confidential adviser of Aspar; such a person the Romans call a "domesticus" in their own tongue. And when Gizeric heard this and considered first the meaning of the bird's action, and then remembered how great power Aspar exercised in Byzantium, it became evident to him that the man was being led to royal power. He therefore by no means deemed it right to kill him, reasoning that, if he should remove him from the world, it would be very clear that the thing which the bird had done was nothing (for he would not honour with his shadow a king who was about to die straightway), and he felt, too, that he would be killing him for no good cause; and if, on the other hand, it was fated that in later times the man should become king, it would never be within his power to inflict death upon him; for that which has been decided upon by God could never be prevented by a man's decision. But he bound Marcian by oaths that, if it should be in his power, he would never take up arms against the Vandals at least. [450 A.D.] Thus, then, Marcian was released and came to Byzantium, and when at a later time Theodosius died he received the empire. And in all other respects he proved himself a good emperor, but he paid no attention at all to affairs in Libya. But this happened in later times. At that time Gizeric, after conquering Aspar and Boniface in battle, displayed a foresight worth recounting, whereby he made his good fortune most thoroughly secure. For fearing lest, if once again an army should come against him from both Rome and Byzantium, the Vandals might not be able to use the same strength and enjoy the same fortune, (since human affairs are wont to be overturned by Heaven and to fail by reason of the weakness of men's bodies), he was not lifted up by the good fortune he had enjoyed, but rather became moderate because of what he feared, and so he made a treaty with the Emperor Valentinian providing that each year he should pay to the emperor tribute from Libya, and he delivered over one of his sons, Honoric, as a hostage to make this agreement binding. So Gizeric both showed himself a brave man in the battle and guarded the victory as securely as possible, and, since the friendship between the two peoples increased greatly, he received back his son Honoric. And at Rome Placidia had died before this time, and after her, Valentinian, her son, also died, having no male offspring, but two daughters had been born to him from Eudoxia, the child of Theodosius. And I shall now relate in what manner Valentinian died. There was a certain Maximus, a Roman senator, of the house of that Maximus[23] who, while usurping the imperial power, was overthrown by the elder Theodosius and put to death, and on whose account also the Romans celebrate the annual festival named from the defeat of Maximus. This younger Maximus was married to a woman discreet in her ways and exceedingly famous for her beauty. For this reason a desire came over Valentinian to have her to wife. And since it was impossible, much as he wished it, to meet her, he plotted an unholy deed and carried it to fulfilment. For he summoned Maximus to the palace and sat down with him to a game of draughts, and a certain sum was set as a penalty for the loser; and the emperor won in this game, and receiving Maximus' ring as a pledge for the agreed amount, he sent it to his house, instructing the messenger to tell the wife of Maximus that her husband bade her come as quickly as possible to the palace to salute the queen Eudoxia. And she, judging by the ring that the message was from Maximus, entered her litter and was conveyed to the emperor's court. And she was received by those who had been assigned this service by the emperor, and led into a certain room far removed from the women's apartments, where Valentinian met her and forced her, much against her will. And she, after the outrage, went to her husband's house weeping and feeling the deepest possible grief because of her misfortune, and she cast many curses upon Maximus as having provided the cause for what had been done. Maximus, accordingly, became exceedingly aggrieved at that which had come to pass, and straightway entered into a conspiracy against the emperor; but when he saw that Aetius was exceedingly powerful, for he had recently conquered Attila, who had invaded the Roman domain with a great army of Massagetae and the other Scythians, the thought occurred to him that Aetius would be in the way of his undertaking. And upon considering this matter, it seemed to him that it was the better course to put Aetius out of the way first, paying no heed to the fact that the whole hope of the Romans centred in him. And since the eunuchs who were in attendance upon the emperor were well-disposed toward him, he persuaded the emperor by their devices that Aetius was setting on foot a revolution. And Valentinian, judging by nothing else than the power and valour of Aetius that the report was true, put the man to death. [Sept. 21, 454 A.D.] Whereupon a certain Roman made himself famous by a saying which he uttered. For when the emperor enquired of him whether he had done well in putting Aetius to death, he replied saying that, as to this matter, he was not able to know whether he had done well or perhaps otherwise, but one thing he understood exceedingly well, that he had cut off his own right hand with the other. So after the death of Aetius,[24] Attila, since no one was a match for him, plundered all Europe with no trouble and made both emperors subservient and tributary to himself. For tribute money was sent to him every year by the emperors. At that time, while Attila was besieging Aquileia, a city of great size and exceedingly populous situated near the sea and above the Ionian Gulf, they say that the following good fortune befell him. For they tell the story that, when he was able to capture the place neither by force nor by any other means, he gave up the siege in despair, since it had already lasted a long time, and commanded the whole army without any delay to make their preparations for the departure, in order that on the morrow all might move from there at sunrise. And the following day about sunrise, the barbarians had raised the siege and were already beginning the departure, when a single male stork which had a nest on a certain tower of the city wall and was rearing his nestlings there suddenly rose and left the place with his young. And the father stork was flying, but the little storks, since they were not yet quite ready to fly, were at times sharing their father's flight and at times riding upon his back, and thus they flew off and went far away from the city. And when Attila saw this (for he was most clever at comprehending and interpreting all things), he commanded the army, they say, to remain still in the same place, adding that the bird would never have gone flying off at random from there with his nestlings, unless he was prophesying that some evil would come to the place at no distant time. Thus, they say, the army of the barbarians settled down to the siege once more, and not long after that a portion of the wall--the very part which held the nest of that bird--for no apparent reason suddenly fell down, and it became possible for the enemy to enter the city at that point, and thus Aquileia was captured by storm. Such is the story touching Aquileia. Later on Maximus slew the emperor with no trouble and secured the tyranny, and he married Eudoxia by force. [455 A.D.] For the wife to whom he had been wedded had died not long before. And on one occasion in private he made the statement to Eudoxia that it was all for the sake of her love that he had carried out all that he had done. And since she felt a repulsion for Maximus even before that time, and had been desirous of exacting vengeance from him for the wrong done Valentinian, his words made her swell with rage still more against him, and led her on to carry out her plot, since she had heard Maximus say that on account of her the misfortune had befallen her husband. And as soon as day came, she sent to Carthage entreating Gizeric to avenge Valentinian, who had been destroyed by an unholy man, in a manner unworthy both of himself and of his imperial station, and to deliver her, since she was suffering unholy treatment at the hand of the tyrant. And she impressed it upon Gizeric that, since he was a friend and ally and so great a calamity had befallen the imperial house, it was not a holy thing to fail to become an avenger. For from Byzantium she thought no vengeance would come, since Theodosius had already departed from the world and Marcian had taken over the empire. [Mar. 17, 455 A.D.] V And Gizeric, for no other reason than that he suspected that much money would come to him, set sail for Italy with a great fleet. And going up to Rome, since no one stood in his way, he took possession of the palace. Now while Maximus was trying to flee, the Romans threw stones at him and killed him, and they cut off his head and each of his other members and divided them among themselves. But Gizeric took Eudoxia captive, together with Eudocia and Placidia, the children of herself and Valentinian, and placing an exceedingly great amount of gold and other imperial treasure[25] in his ships sailed to Carthage, having spared neither bronze nor anything else whatsoever in the palace. He plundered also the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, and tore off half of the roof. Now this roof was of bronze of the finest quality, and since gold was laid over it exceedingly thick, it shone as a magnificent and wonderful spectacle.[26] But of the ships with Gizeric, one, which was bearing the statues, was lost, they say, but with all the others the Vandals reached port in the harbour of Carthage. Gizeric then married Eudocia to Honoric, the elder of his sons; but the other of the two women, being the wife of Olybrius, a most distinguished man in the Roman senate, he sent to Byzantium together with her mother, Eudoxia, at the request of the emperor. Now the power of the East had by now fallen to Leon, who had been set in this position by Aspar, since Marcian had already passed from the world. [457 A.D.] Afterwards Gizeric devised the following scheme. He tore down the walls of all the cities in Libya except Carthage, so that neither the Libyans themselves, espousing the cause of the Romans, might have a strong base from which to begin a rebellion, nor those sent by the emperor have any ground for hoping to capture a city and by establishing a garrison in it to make trouble for the Vandals. Now at that time it seemed that he had counselled well and had ensured prosperity for the Vandals in the safest possible manner; but in later times when these cities, being without walls, were captured by Belisarius all the more easily and with less exertion, Gizeric was then condemned to suffer much ridicule, and that which for the time he considered wise counsel turned out for him to be folly. For as fortunes change, men are always accustomed to change with them their judgments regarding what has been planned in the past. And among the Libyans all who happened to be men of note and conspicuous for their wealth he handed over as slaves, together with their estates and all their money, to his sons Honoric and Genzon. For Theodorus, the youngest son, had died already, being altogether without offspring, either male or female. And he robbed the rest of the Libyans of their estates, which were both very numerous and excellent, and distributed them among the nation of the Vandals, and as a result of this these lands have been called "Vandals' estates" up to the present time. And it fell to the lot of those who had formerly possessed these lands to be in extreme poverty and to be at the same time free men; and they had the privilege of going away wheresoever they wished. And Gizeric commanded that all the lands which he had given over to his sons and to the other Vandals should not be subject to any kind of taxation. But as much of the land as did not seem to him good he allowed to remain in the hands of the former owners, but assessed so large a sum to be paid on this land for taxes to the government that nothing whatever remained to those who retained their farms. And many of them were constantly being sent into exile or killed. For charges were brought against them of many sorts, and heavy ones too; but one charge seemed to be the greatest of all, that a man, having money of his own, was hiding it. Thus the Libyans were visited with every form of misfortune. The Vandals and the Alani he arranged in companies, appointing over them no less than eighty captains, whom he called "chiliarchs,"[27] making it appear that his host of fighting men in active service amounted to eighty thousand. And yet the number of the Vandals and Alani was said in former times, at least, to amount to no more than fifty thousand men. However, after that time by their natural increase among themselves and by associating other barbarians with them they came to be an exceedingly numerous people. But the names of the Alani and all the other barbarians, except the Moors, were united in the name of Vandals. At that time, after the death of Valentinian, Gizeric gained the support of the Moors, and every year at the beginning of spring he made invasions into Sicily and Italy, enslaving some of the cities, razing others to the ground, and plundering everything; and when the land had become destitute of men and of money, he invaded the domain of the emperor of the East. And so he plundered Illyricum and the most of the Peloponnesus and of the rest of Greece and all the islands which lie near it. And again he went off to Sicily and Italy, and kept plundering and pillaging all places in turn. And one day when he had embarked on his ship in the harbour of Carthage, and the sails were already being spread, the pilot asked him, they say, against what men in the world he bade them go. And he in reply said: "Plainly against those with whom God is angry." Thus without any cause he kept making invasions wherever chance might lead him. VI And the Emperor Leon, wishing to punish the Vandals because of these things, was gathering an army against them; and they say that this army amounted to about one hundred thousand men. And he collected a fleet of ships from the whole of the eastern Mediterranean, shewing great generosity to both soldiers and sailors, for he feared lest from a parsimonious policy some obstacle might arise to hinder him in his desire to carry out his punishment of the barbarians. Therefore, they say, thirteen hundred centenaria[28] were expended by him to no purpose. But since it was not fated that the Vandals should be destroyed by this expedition, he made Basiliscus commander-in-chief, the brother of his wife Berine, a man who was extraordinarily desirous of the royal power, which he hoped would come to him without a struggle if he won the friendship of Aspar. For Aspar himself, being an adherent of the Arian faith, and having no intention of changing it for another, was unable to enter upon the imperial office, but he was easily strong enough to establish another in it, and it already seemed likely that he would plot against the Emperor Leon, who had given him offence. So they say that since Aspar was then fearful lest, if the Vandals were defeated, Leon should establish his power most securely, he repeatedly urged upon Basiliscus that he should spare the Vandals and Gizeric. [467 A.D.] Now before this time Leon had already appointed and sent Anthemius, as Emperor of the West, a man of the senate of great wealth and high birth, in order that he might assist him in the Vandalic war. And yet Gizeric kept asking and earnestly entreating that the imperial power be given to Olybrius, who was married to Placidia, the daughter of Valentinian, and on account of his relationship[29] well-disposed toward him, and when he failed in this he was still more angry and kept plundering the whole land of the emperor. Now there was in Dalmatia a certain Marcellianus, one of the acquaintances of Aetius and a man of repute, who, after Aetius had died in the manner told above,[30] no longer deigned to yield obedience to the emperor, but beginning a revolution and detaching all the others from allegiance, held the power of Dalmatia himself, since no one dared encounter him. But the Emperor Leon at that time won over this Marcellianus by very careful wheedling, and bade him go to the island of Sardinia, which was then subject to the Vandals. And he drove out the Vandals and gained possession of it with no great difficulty. And Heracleius was sent from Byzantium to Tripolis in Libya, and after conquering the Vandals of that district in battle, he easily captured the cities, and leaving his ships there, led his army on foot toward Carthage. Such, then, was the sequence of events which formed the prelude of the war. But Basiliscus with his whole fleet put in at a town distant from Carthage no less than two hundred and eighty stades (now it so happened that a temple of Hermes had been there from of old, from which fact the place was named Mercurium; for the Romans call Hermes "Mercurius"), and if he had not purposely played the coward and hesitated, but had undertaken to go straight for Carthage, he would have captured it at the first onset, and he would have reduced the Vandals to subjection without their even thinking of resistance; so overcome was Gizeric with awe of Leon as an invincible emperor, when the report was brought to him that Sardinia and Tripolis had been captured, and he saw the fleet of Basiliscus to be such as the Romans were said never to have had before. But, as it was, the general's hesitation, whether caused by cowardice or treachery, prevented this success. And Gizeric, profiting by the negligence of Basiliscus, did as follows. Arming all his subjects in the best way he could, he filled his ships, but not all, for some he kept in readiness empty, and they were the ships which sailed most swiftly. And sending envoys to Basiliscus, he begged him to defer the war for the space of five days, in order that in the meantime he might take counsel and do those things which were especially desired by the emperor. They say, too, that he sent also a great amount of gold without the knowledge of the army of Basiliscus and thus purchased this armistice. And he did this, thinking, as actually did happen, that a favouring wind would rise for him during this time. And Basiliscus, either as doing a favour to Aspar in accordance with what he had promised, or selling the moment of opportunity for money, or perhaps thinking it the better course, did as he was requested and remained quietly in the camp, awaiting the moment favourable to the enemy. But the Vandals, as soon as the wind had arisen for them which they had been expecting during the time they lay at rest, raised their sails and, taking in tow the boats which, as has been stated above, they had made ready with no men in them, they sailed against the enemy. And when they came near, they set fire to the boats which they were towing, when their sails were bellied by the wind, and let them go against the Roman fleet. And since there were a great number of ships there, these boats easily spread fire wherever they struck, and were themselves readily destroyed together with those with which they came in contact. And as the fire advanced in this way the Roman fleet was filled with tumult, as was natural, and with a great din that rivalled the noise caused by the wind and the roaring of the flames, as the soldiers together with the sailors shouted orders to one another and pushed off with their poles the fire-boats and their own ships as well, which were being destroyed by one another in complete disorder. And already the Vandals too were at hand ramming and sinking the ships, and making booty of such of the soldiers as attempted to escape, and of their arms as well. But there were also some of the Romans who proved themselves brave men in this struggle, and most of all John, who was a general under Basiliscus and who had no share whatever in his treason. For a great throng having surrounded his ship, he stood on the deck, and turning from side to side kept killing very great numbers of the enemy from there, and when he perceived that the ship was being captured, he leaped with his whole equipment of arms from the deck into the sea. And though Genzon, the son of Gizeric, entreated him earnestly not to do this, offering pledges and holding out promises of safety, he nevertheless threw himself into the sea, uttering this one word, that John would never come under the hands of dogs. So this war came to an end, and Heracleius departed for home; for Marcellianus had been destroyed treacherously by one of his fellow-officers. And Basiliscus, coming to Byzantium, seated himself as a suppliant in the sanctuary of Christ the Great God ("Sophia"[31] the temple is called by the men of Byzantium who consider that this designation is especially appropriate to God), and although, by the intercession of Berine, the queen, he escaped this danger, he was not able at that time to reach the throne, the thing for the sake of which everything had been done by him. For the Emperor Leon not long afterwards destroyed both Aspar and Ardaburius in the palace, because he suspected that they were plotting against his life. [471 A.D.] Thus, then, did these events take place. VII [Aug. 11, 472 A.D.] Now Anthemius, the emperor of the West, died at the hand of his son-in-law Rhecimer, and Olybrius, succeeding to the throne, a short time afterward suffered the same fate. [Oct. 10, 472 A.D.] And when Leon also had died in Byzantium, the imperial office was taken over by the younger Leon, the son of Zeno and Ariadne, the daughter of Leon, while he was still only a few days old. And his father having been chosen as partner in the royal power, the child forthwith passed from the world. [474 A.D.] Majorinus also deserves mention, who had gained the power of the West before this time. For this Majorinus, who surpassed in every virtue all who have ever been emperors of the Romans, did not bear lightly the loss of Libya, but collected a very considerable army against the Vandals and came to Liguria, intending himself to lead the army against the enemy. For Majorinus never showed the least hesitation before any task and least of all before the dangers of war. But thinking it not inexpedient for him to investigate first the strength of the Vandals and the character of Gizeric and to discover how the Moors and Libyans stood with regard to friendship or hostility toward the Romans, he decided to trust no eyes other than his own in such a matter. Accordingly he set out as if an envoy from the emperor to Gizeric, assuming some fictitious name. And fearing lest, by becoming known, he should himself receive some harm and at the same time prevent the success of the enterprise, he devised the following scheme. His hair, which was famous among all men as being so fair as to resemble pure gold, he anointed with some kind of dye, which was especially invented for this purpose, and so succeeded completely in changing it for the time to a dark hue. And when he came before Gizeric, the barbarian attempted in many ways to terrify him, and in particular, while treating him with engaging attention, as if a friend, he brought him into the house where all his weapons were stored, a numerous and exceedingly noteworthy array. Thereupon they say that the weapons shook of their own accord and gave forth a sound of no ordinary or casual sort, and then it seemed to Gizeric that there had been an earthquake, but when he got outside and made enquiries concerning the earthquake, since no one else agreed with him, a great wonder, they say, came over him, but he was not able to comprehend the meaning of what had happened. So Majorinus, having accomplished the very things he wished, returned to Liguria, and leading his army on foot, came to the Pillars of Heracles, purposing to cross over the strait at that point, and then to march by land from there against Carthage. And when Gizeric became aware of this, and perceived that he had been tricked by Majorinus in the matter of the embassy, he became alarmed and made his preparations for war. And the Romans, basing their confidence on the valour of Majorinus, already began to have fair hopes of recovering Libya for the empire. [461 A.D.] But meantime Majorinus was attacked by the disease of dysentery and died, a man who had shewn himself moderate toward his subjects, and an object of fear to his enemies. [July 24, 474 A.D.] And another emperor, Nepos, upon taking over the empire, and living to enjoy it only a few days, died of disease, and Glycerius after him entered into this office and suffered a similar fate. [474-475 A.D.] And after him Augustus assumed the imperial power. There were, moreover, still other emperors in the West before this time, but though I know their names well, I shall make no mention of them whatever. For it so fell out that they lived only a short time after attaining the office, and as a result of this accomplished nothing worthy of mention. Such was the course of events in the West. But in Byzantium Basiliscus, being no longer able to master his passion for royal power, made an attempt to usurp the throne, and succeeded without difficulty, since Zeno, together with his wife, sought refuge in Isauria, which was his native home. [471 A.D.] And while he was maintaining his tyranny for a year and eight months he was detested by practically everyone and in particular by the soldiers of the court on account of the greatness of his avarice. And Zeno, perceiving this, collected an army and came against him. And Basiliscus sent an army under the general Harmatus in order to array himself against Zeno. But when they had made camp near one another, Harmatus surrendered his army to Zeno, on the condition that Zeno should appoint as Caesar Harmatus' son Basiliscus, who was a very young child, and leave him as successor to the throne upon his death. And Basiliscus, deserted by all, fled for refuge to the same sanctuary as formerly. And Acacius, the priest of the city, put him into the hands of Zeno, charging him with impiety and with having brought great confusion and many innovations into the Christian doctrine, having inclined toward the heresy of Eutyches. And this was so. And after Zeno had thus taken over the empire a second time, he carried out his pledge to Harmatus formally by appointing his son Basiliscus Caesar, but not long afterwards he both stripped him of the office and put Harmatus to death. And he sent Basiliscus together with his children and his wife into Cappadocia in the winter season, commanding that they should be destitute of food and clothes and every kind of care. And there, being hard pressed by both cold and hunger, they took refuge in one another's arms, and embracing their loved ones, perished. And this punishment overtook Basiliscus for the policy he had pursued. These things, however, happened in later times. But at that time Gizeric was plundering the whole Roman domain just as much as before, if not more, circumventing his enemy by craft and driving them out of their possessions by force, as has been previously said, and he continued to do so until the emperor Zeno came to an agreement with him and an endless peace was established between them, by which it was provided that the Vandals should never in all time perform any hostile act against the Romans nor suffer such a thing at their hands. And this peace was preserved by Zeno himself and also by his successor in the empire, Anastasius And it remained in force until the time of the emperor Justinus. But Justinian, who was the nephew of Justinus, succeeded him in the imperial power, and it was in the reign of this Justinian that the war with which we are concerned came to pass, in the manner which will be told in the following narrative. [477 A.D.] Gizeric, after living on a short time, died at an advanced age, having made a will in which he enjoined many things upon the Vandals and in particular that the royal power among them should always fall to that one who should be the first in years among all the male offspring descended from Gizeric himself. So Gizeric, having ruled over the Vandals thirty-nine years from the time when he captured Carthage, died, as I have said. VIII And Honoric, the eldest of his sons, succeeded to the throne, Genzon having already departed from the world. During the time when this Honoric ruled the Vandals they had no war against anyone at all, except the Moors. For through fear of Gizeric the Moors had remained quiet before that time, but as soon as he was out of their way they both did much harm to the Vandals and suffered the same themselves. And Honoric shewed himself the most cruel and unjust of all men toward the Christians in Libya. For he forced them to change over to the Arian faith, and as many as he found not readily yielding to him he burned, or destroyed by other forms of death; and he also cut off the tongues of many from the very throat, who even up to my time were going about in Byzantium having their speech uninjured, and perceiving not the least effect from this punishment; but two of these, since they saw fit to go in to harlots, were thenceforth no longer able to speak. And after ruling over the Vandals eight years he died of disease; and by that time the Moors dwelling on Mt. Aurasium[32] had revolted from the Vandals and were independent (this Aurasium is a mountain of Numidia, about thirteen days' journey distant from Carthage and fronting the south); and indeed they never came under the Vandals again, since the latter were unable to carry on a war against Moors on a mountain difficult of access and exceedingly steep. After the death of Honoric the rule of the Vandals fell to Gundamundus, the son of Genzon, the son of Gizeric. [485 A.D.] For he, in point of years, was the first of the offspring of Gizeric. This Gundamundus fought against the Moors in numerous encounters, and after subjecting the Christians to still greater suffering, he died of disease, being now at about the middle of the twelfth year of his reign. [496 A.D.] And his brother Trasamundus took over the kingdom, a man well-favoured in appearance and especially gifted with discretion and highmindedness. However he continued to force the Christians to change their ancestral faith, not by torturing their bodies as his predecessors had done, but by seeking to win them with honours and offices and presenting them with great sums of money; and in the case of those who would not be persuaded, he pretended he had not the least knowledge of what manner of men they were.[33] And if he caught any guilty of great crimes which they had committed either by accident or deliberate intent, he would offer such men, as a reward for changing their faith, that they should not be punished for their offences. And when his wife died without becoming the mother of either male or female offspring, wishing to establish the kingdom as securely as possible, he sent to Theoderic, the king of the Goths, asking him to give him his sister Amalafrida to wife, for her husband had just died. And Theoderic sent him not only his sister but also a thousand of the notable Goths as a bodyguard, who were followed by a host of attendants amounting to about five thousand fighting men. And Theoderic also presented his sister with one of the promontories of Sicily, which are three in number,--the one which they call Lilybaeum,--and as a result of this Trasamundus was accounted the strongest and most powerful of all those who had ruled over the Vandals. He became also a very special friend of the emperor Anastasius. It was during the reign of Trasamundus that it came about that the Vandals suffered a disaster at the hands of the Moors such as had never befallen them before that time. There was a certain Cabaon ruling over the Moors of Tripolis, a man experienced in many wars and exceedingly shrewd. This Cabaon, upon learning that the Vandals were marching against him, did as follows. First of all he issued orders to his subjects to abstain from all injustice and from all foods tending towards luxury and most of all from association with women; and setting up two palisaded enclosures, he encamped himself with all the men in one, and in the other he shut the women, and he threatened that death would be the penalty if anyone should go to the women's palisade. And after this he sent spies to Carthage with the following instructions: whenever the Vandals in going forth on the expedition should offer insult to any temple which the Christians reverence, they were to look on and see what took place; and when the Vandals had passed the place, they were to do the opposite of everything which the Vandals had done to the sanctuary before their departure. And they say that he added this also, that he was ignorant of the God whom the Christians worshipped, but it was probable that if He was powerful, as He was said to be, He should wreak vengeance upon those who insulted Him and defend those who honoured Him. So the spies came to Carthage and waited quietly, observing the preparation of the Vandals; but when the army set out on the march to Tripolis, they followed, clothing themselves in humble garb. And the Vandals, upon making camp the first day, led their horses and their other animals into the temples of the Christians, and sparing no insult, they acted with all the unrestrained lawlessness natural to them, beating as many priests as they caught and lashing them with many blows over the back and commanding them to render such service to the Vandals as they were accustomed to assign to the most dishonoured of their domestics. And as soon as they had departed from there, the spies of Cabaon did as they had been directed to do; for they straightway cleansed the sanctuaries and took away with great care the filth and whatever other unholy thing lay in them, and they lighted all the lamps and bowed down before the priests with great reverence and saluted them with all friendliness; and after giving pieces of silver to the poor who sat about these sanctuaries, they then followed after the army of the Vandals. And from then on along the whole route the Vandals continued to commit the same offences and the spies to render the same service. And when they were coming near the Moors, the spies anticipated them and reported to Cabaon what had been done by the Vandals and by themselves to the temples of the Christians, and that the enemy were somewhere near by. And Cabaon, upon learning this, arranged for the encounter as follows. He marked off a circle in the plain where he was about to make his palisade, and placed his camels turned sideways in a circle as a protection for the camp, making his line fronting the enemy about twelve camels deep. Then he placed the children and the women and all those who were unfit for fighting together with their possessions in the middle, while he commanded the host of fighting men to stand between the feet of those animals, covering themselves with their shields.[34] And since the phalanx of the Moors was of such a sort, the Vandals were at a loss how to handle the situation; for they were neither good with the javelin nor with the bow, nor did they know how to go into battle on foot, but they were all horsemen, and used spears and swords for the most part, so that they were unable to do the enemy any harm at a distance; and their horses, annoyed at the sight of the camels, refused absolutely to be driven against the enemy. And since the Moors, by hurling javelins in great numbers among them from their safe position, kept killing both their horses and men without difficulty, because they were a vast throng, they began to flee, and, when the Moors came out against them, the most of them were destroyed, while some fell into the hands of the enemy; and an exceedingly small number from this army returned home. Such was the fortune which Trasamundus suffered at the hands of the Moors. And he died at a later time, having ruled over the Moors twenty-seven years. IX [523 A.D.] And Ilderic, the son of Honoric, the son of Gizeric, next received the kingdom, a ruler who was easily approached by his subjects and altogether gentle, and he shewed himself harsh neither to the Christians nor to anyone else, but in regard to affairs of war he was a weakling and did not wish this thing even to come to his ears. Hoamer, accordingly, his nephew and an able warrior, led the armies against any with whom the Vandals were at war; he it was whom they called the Achilles of the Vandals. During the reign of this Ilderic the Vandals were defeated in Byzacium by the Moors, who were ruled by Antalas, and it so fell out that they became enemies instead of allies and friends to Theoderic and the Goths in Italy. For they put Amalafrida in prison and destroyed all the Goths, charging them with revolutionary designs against the Vandals and Ilderic. However, no revenge came from Theoderic, for he considered himself unable to gather a great fleet and make an expedition into Libya, and Ilderic was a very particular friend and guest-friend of Justinian, who had not yet come to the throne, but was administering the government according to his pleasure; for his uncle Justinus, who was emperor, was very old and not altogether experienced in matters of state. And Ilderic and Justinian made large presents of money to each other. Now there was a certain man in the family of Gizeric, Gelimer, the son of Geilaris, the son of Genzon, the son of Gizeric, who was of such age as to be second only to Ilderic, and for this reason he was expected to come into the kingdom very soon. This man was thought to be the best warrior of his time, but for the rest he was a cunning fellow and base at heart and well versed in undertaking revolutionary enterprises and in laying hold upon the money of others. Now this Gelimer, when he saw the power coming to him, was not able to live in his accustomed way, but assumed to himself the tasks of a king and usurped the rule, though it was not yet due him; and since Ilderic in a spirit of friendliness gave in to him, he was no longer able to restrain his thoughts, but allying with himself all the noblest of the Vandals, he persuaded them to wrest the kingdom from Ilderic, as being an unwarlike king who had been defeated by the Moors, and as betraying the power of the Vandals into the hand of the Emperor Justinus, in order that the kingdom might not come to him, because he was of the other branch of the family; for he asserted slanderously that this was the meaning of Ilderic's embassy to Byzantium, and that he was giving over the empire of the Vandals to Justinus. And they, being persuaded, carried out this plan. [530 A.D.] Thus Gelimer seized the supreme power, and imprisoned Ilderic, after he had ruled over the Vandals seven years, and also Hoamer and his brother Euagees. [527 A.D.] But when Justinian heard these things, having already received the imperial power, he sent envoys to Gelimer in Libya with the following letter: "You are not acting in a holy manner nor worthily of the will of Gizeric, keeping in prison an old man and a kinsman and the king of the Vandals (if the counsels of Gizeric are to be of effect), and robbing him of his office by violence, though it would be possible for you to receive it after a short time in a lawful manner. Do you therefore do no further wrong and do not exchange the name of king for the title of tyrant, which comes but a short time earlier. But as for this man, whose death may be expected at any moment, allow him to bear in appearance the form of royal power, while you do all the things which it is proper that a king should do; and wait until you can receive from time and the law of Gizeric, and from them alone, the name which belongs to the position. For if you do this, the attitude of the Almighty will be favourable and at the same time our relations with you will be friendly." Such was his message. But Gelimer sent the envoys away with nothing accomplished, and he blinded Hoamer and also kept Ilderic and Euagees in closer confinement, charging them with planning flight to Byzantium. And when this too was heard by the Emperor Justinian, he sent envoys a second time and wrote as follows: "We, indeed, supposed that you would never go contrary to our advice when we wrote you the former letter. But since it pleases you to have secured possession of the royal power in the manner in which you have taken and now hold it, get from it whatever Heaven grants. But do you send to us Ilderic, and Hoamer whom you have blinded, and his brother, to receive what comfort they can who have been robbed of a kingdom or of sight; for we shall not let the matter rest if you do not do this. And I speak thus because we are led by the hope which I had based on our friendship. And the treaty with Gizeric will not stand as an obstacle for us. For it is not to make war upon him who has succeeded to the kingdom of Gizeric that we come, but to avenge Gizeric with all our power." When Gelimer had read this, he replied as follows: "King Gelimer to the Emperor Justinian. Neither have I taken the office by violence nor has anything unholy been done by me to my kinsmen. For Ilderic, while planning a revolution against the house of Gizeric, was dethroned by the nation of the Vandals; and I was called to the kingdom by my years, which gave me the preference, according to the law at least. Now it is well for one to administer the kingly office which belongs to him and not to make the concerns of others his own. Hence for you also, who have a kingdom, meddling in other's affairs is not just; and if you break the treaty and come against us, we shall oppose you with all our power, calling to witness the oaths which were sworn by Zeno, from whom you have received the kingdom which you hold." The Emperor Justinian, upon receiving this letter, having been angry with Gelimer even before then, was still more eager to punish him. And it seemed to him best to put an end to the Persian war as soon as possible and then to make an expedition to Libya; and since he was quick at forming a plan and prompt in carrying out his decisions, Belisarius, the General of the East, was summoned and came to him immediately, no announcement having been made to him nor to anyone else that he was about to lead an army against Libya, but it was given out that he had been removed from the office which he held. And straightway the treaty with Persia was made, as has been told in the preceding narrative.[35] X And when the Emperor Justinian considered that the situation was as favourable as possible, both as to domestic affairs and as to his relations with Persia, he took under consideration the situation in Libya. But when he disclosed to the magistrates that he was gathering an army against the Vandals and Gelimer, the most of them began immediately to show hostility to the plan, and they lamented it as a misfortune, recalling the expedition of the Emperor Leon and the disaster of Basiliscus, and reciting how many soldiers had perished and how much money the state had lost. But the men who were the most sorrowful of all, and who, by reason of their anxiety, felt the keenest regret, were the pretorian prefect, whom the Romans call "praetor," and the administrator of the treasury, and all to whom had been assigned the collection of either public or imperial[36] taxes, for they reasoned that while it would be necessary for them to produce countless sums for the needs of the war, they would be granted neither pardon in case of failure nor extension of time in which to raise these sums. And every one of the generals, supposing that he himself would command the army, was in terror and dread at the greatness of the danger, if it should be necessary for him, if he were preserved from the perils of the sea, to encamp in the enemy's land, and, using his ships as a base, to engage in a struggle against a kingdom both large and formidable. The soldiers, also, having recently returned from a long, hard war, and having not yet tasted to the full the blessings of home, were in despair, both because they were being led into sea-fighting,--a thing which they had not learned even from tradition before then,--and because they were sent from the eastern frontier to the West, in order to risk their lives against Vandals and Moors. But all the rest, as usually happens in a great throng, wished to be spectators of new adventures while others faced the dangers. But as for saying anything to the emperor to prevent the expedition, no one dared to do this except John the Cappadocian, the pretorian prefect, a man of the greatest daring and the cleverest of all men of his time. For this John, while all the others were bewailing in silence the fortune which was upon them, came before the emperor and spoke as follows: "O Emperor, the good faith which thou dost shew in dealing with thy subjects enables us to speak frankly regarding anything which will be of advantage to thy government, even though what is said and done may not be agreeable to thee. For thus does thy wisdom temper thy authority with justice, in that thou dost not consider that man only as loyal to thy cause who serves thee under any and all conditions, nor art thou angry with the man who speaks against thee, but by weighing all things by pure reason alone, thou hast often shewn that it involves us in no danger to oppose thy purposes. Led by these considerations, O Emperor, I have come to offer this advice, knowing that, though I shall give perhaps offence at the moment, if it so chance, yet in the future the loyalty which I bear you will be made clear, and that for this I shall be able to shew thee as a witness. For if, through not hearkening to my words, thou shalt carry out the war against the Vandals, it will come about, if the struggle is prolonged for thee, that my advice will win renown. For if thou hast confidence that thou wilt conquer the enemy, it is not at all unreasonable that thou shouldst sacrifice the lives of men and expend a vast amount of treasure, and undergo the difficulties of the struggle; for victory, coming at the end, covers up all the calamities of war. But if in reality these things lie on the knees of God, and if it behoves us, taking example from what has happened in the past, to fear the outcome of war, on what grounds is it not better to love a state of quiet rather than the dangers of mortal strife? Thou art purposing to make an expedition against Carthage, to which, if one goes by land, the journey is one of a hundred and forty days, and if one goes by water, he is forced to cross the whole open sea and go to its very end. So that he who brings thee news of what will happen in the camp must needs reach thee a year after the event. And one might add that if thou art victorious over thy enemy, thou couldst not take possession of Libya while Sicily and Italy lie in the hands of others; and at the same time, if any reverse befall thee, O Emperor, the treaty having already been broken by thee, thou wilt bring the danger upon our own land. In fact, putting all in a word, it will not be possible for thee to reap the fruits of victory, and at the same time any reversal of fortune will bring harm to what is well established. It is before an enterprise that wise planning is useful. For when men have failed, repentance is of no avail, but before disaster comes there is no danger in altering plans. Therefore it will be of advantage above all else to make fitting use of the decisive moment." Thus spoke John; and the Emperor Justinian, hearkening to his words, checked his eager desire for the war. But one of the priests whom they call bishops, who had come from the East, said that he wished to have a word with the emperor. And when he met Justinian, he said that God had visited him in a dream, and bidden him go to the emperor and rebuke him, because, after undertaking the task of protecting the Christians in Libya from tyrants, he had for no good reason become afraid. "And yet," He had said, "I will Myself join with him in waging war and make him lord of Libya." When the emperor heard this, he was no longer able to restrain his purpose, and he began to collect the army and the ships, and to make ready supplies of weapons and of food, and he announced to Belisarius that he should be in readiness, because he was very soon to act as general in Libya. Meanwhile Pudentius, one of the natives of Tripolis in Libya, caused this district to revolt from the Vandals, and sending to the emperor he begged that he should despatch an army to him; for, he said, he would with no trouble win the land for the emperor. And Justinian sent him Tattimuth and an army of no very great size. This force Pudentius joined with his own troops and, the Vandals being absent, he gained possession of the land and made it subject to the emperor. And Gelimer, though wishing to inflict punishment upon Pudentius, found the following obstacle in his way. There was a certain Godas among the slaves of Gelimer, a Goth by birth, a passionate and energetic fellow possessed of great bodily strength, but appearing to be well-disposed to the cause of his master. To this Godas Gelimer entrusted the island of Sardinia, in order both to guard the island and to pay over the annual tribute. But he neither could digest the prosperity brought by fortune nor had he the spirit to endure it, and so he undertook to establish a tyranny, and he refused to continue the payment of the tribute, and actually detached the island from the Vandals and held it himself. And when he perceived that the Emperor Justinian was eager to make war against Libya and Gelimer, he wrote to him as follows: "It was neither because I yielded to folly nor because I had suffered anything unpleasant at my master's hands that I turned my thoughts towards rebellion, but seeing the extreme cruelty of the man both toward his kinsmen and toward his subjects, I could not, willingly at least, be reputed to have a share in his inhumanity. For it is better to serve a just king than a tyrant whose commands are unlawful. But do thou join with me to assist in this my effort and send soldiers so that I may be able to ward off my assailants." And the emperor, on receiving this letter, was pleased, and he sent Eulogius as envoy and wrote a letter praising Godas for his wisdom and his zeal for justice, and he promised an alliance and soldiers and a general, who would be able to guard the island with him and to assist him in every other way, so that no trouble should come to him from the Vandals. But Eulogius, upon coming to Sardinia, found that Godas was assuming the name and wearing the dress of a king and that he had attached a body-guard to his person. And when Godas read the emperor's letter, he said that it was his wish to have soldiers, indeed, come to fight along with him, but as for a commander, he had absolutely no desire for one. And having written to the emperor in this sense, he dismissed Eulogius. XI The emperor, meanwhile, not having yet ascertained these things, was preparing four hundred soldiers with Cyril as commander, who were to assist Godas in guarding the island. And with them he also had in readiness the expedition against Carthage, ten thousand foot-soldiers, and five thousand horsemen, gathered from the regular troops and from the "foederati." Now at an earlier time only barbarians were enlisted among the foederati, those, namely, who had come into the Roman political system, not in the condition of slaves, since they had not been conquered by the Romans, but on the basis of complete equality.[37] For the Romans call treaties with their enemies "foedera." But at the present time there is nothing to prevent anyone from assuming this name, since time will by no means consent to keep names attached to the things to which they were formerly applied, but conditions are ever changing about according to the desire of men who control them, and men pay little heed to the meaning which they originally attached to a name. And the commanders of the foederati were Dorotheus, the general of the troops in Armenia, and Solomon, who was acting as manager for the general Belisarius; (such a person the Romans call "domesticus." Now this Solomon was a eunuch, but it was not by the devising of man that he had suffered mutilation, but some accident which befell him while in swaddling clothes had imposed this lot upon him); and there were also Cyprian, Valerian, Martinus, Althias, John, Marcellus, and the Cyril whom I have mentioned above; and the commanders of the regular cavalry were Rufinus and Aïgan, who were of the house of Belisarius, and Barbatus and Pappus, while the regular infantry was commanded by Theodorus, who was surnamed Cteanus, and Terentius, Zaïdus, Marcian, and Sarapis. And a certain John, a native of Epidamnus, which is now called Dyrrachium, held supreme command over all the leaders of infantry. Among all these commanders Solomon was from a place in the East, at the very extremity of the Roman domain, where the city called Daras now stands, and Aïgan was by birth of the Massagetae whom they now call Huns; and the rest were almost all inhabitants of the land of Thrace. And there followed with them also four hundred Eruli, whom Pharas led, and about six hundred barbarian allies from the nation of the Massagetae, all mounted bowmen; these were led by Sinnion and Balas, men endowed with bravery and endurance in the highest degree. And for the whole force five hundred ships were required, no one of which was able to carry more than fifty thousand medimni,[38] nor any one less than three thousand. And in all the vessels together there were thirty thousand sailors, Egyptians and Ionians for the most part, and Cilicians, and one commander was appointed over all the ships, Calonymus of Alexandria. And they had also ships of war prepared as for sea-fighting, to the number of ninety-two, and they were single-banked ships covered by decks, in order that the men rowing them might if possible not be exposed to the bolts of the enemy. Such boats are called "dromones"[39] by those of the present time; for they are able to attain a great speed. In these sailed two thousand men of Byzantium, who were all rowers as well as fighting men; for there was not a single superfluous man among them. And Archelaus was also sent, a man of patrician standing who had already been pretorian prefect both in Byzantium and in Illyricum, but he then held the position of prefect of the army; for thus the officer charged with the maintenance of the army is designated. But as general with supreme authority over all the emperor sent Belisarius, who was in command of the troops of the East for the second time. And he was followed by many spearmen and many guards as well, men who were capable warriors and thoroughly experienced in the dangers of fighting. And the emperor gave him written instructions, bidding him do everything as seemed best to him, and stating that his acts would be final, as if the emperor himself had done them. The writing, in fact, gave him the power of a king. Now Belisarius was a native of Germania, which lies between Thrace and Illyricum. These things, then, took place in this way. Gelimer, however, being deprived of Tripolis by Pudentius and of Sardinia by Godas, scarcely hoped to regain Tripolis, since it was situated at a great distance and the rebels were already being assisted by the Romans, against whom just at that moment it seemed to him best not to take the field; but he was eager to get to the island before any army sent by the emperor to fight for his enemies should arrive there. He accordingly selected five thousand of the Vandals and one hundred and twenty ships of the fastest kind, and appointing as general his brother Tzazon, he sent them off. And so they were sailing with great enthusiasm and eagerness against Godas and Sardinia. In the meantime the Emperor Justinian was sending off Valerian and Martinus in advance of the others in order to await the rest of the army in the Peloponnesus. And when these two had embarked upon their ships, it came to the emperor's mind that there was something which he wished to enjoin upon them,--a thing which he had wished to say previously, but he had been so busied with the other matters of which he had to speak that his mind had been occupied with them and this subject had been driven out. He summoned them, accordingly, intending to say what he wished, but upon considering the matter, he saw that it would not be propitious for them to interrupt their journey. He therefore sent men to forbid them either to return to him or to disembark from their ships. And these men, upon coming near the ships, commanded them with much shouting and loud cries by no means to turn back, and it seemed to those present that the thing which had happened was no good omen and that never would one of the men in those ships return from Libya to Byzantium. For besides the omen they suspected that a curse also had come to the men from the emperor, not at all by his own will, so that they would not return. Now if anyone should so interpret the incident with regard to these two commanders, Valerian and Martinus, he will find the original opinion untrue. But there was a certain man among the body-guards of Martinus, Stotzas by name, who was destined to be an enemy of the emperor, to make an attempt to set up a tyranny, and by no means to return to Byzantium, and one might suppose that curse to have been turned upon him by Heaven. But whether this matter stands thus or otherwise, I leave to each one to reason out as he wishes. But I shall proceed to tell how the general Belisarius and the army departed. XII [533 A.D.] In the seventh year of Justinian's reign, at about the spring equinox, the emperor commanded the general's ship to anchor off the point which is before the royal palace. Thither came also Epiphanius, the chief priest of the city, and after uttering an appropriate prayer, he put on the ships one of the soldiers who had lately been baptized and had taken the Christian name. And after this the general Belisarius and Antonina, his wife, set sail. And there was with them also Procopius, who wrote this history; now previously he had been exceedingly terrified at the danger, but later he had seen a vision in his sleep which caused him to take courage and made him eager to go on the expedition. For it seemed in the dream that he was in the house of Belisarius, and one of the servants entering announced that some men had come bearing gifts; and Belisarius bade him investigate what sort of gifts they were, and he went out into the court and saw men who carried on their shoulders earth with the flowers and all. And he bade him bring these men into the house and deposit the earth they were carrying in the portico; and Belisarius together with his guardsmen came there, and he himself reclined on that earth and ate of the flowers, and urged the others to do likewise; and as they reclined and ate, as if upon a couch, the food seemed to them exceedingly sweet. Such, then, was the vision of the dream. And the whole fleet followed the general's ship, and they put in at Perinthus, which is now called Heracleia,[40] where five days' time was spent by the army, since at that place the general received as a present from the emperor an exceedingly great number of horses from the royal pastures, which are kept for him in the territory of Thrace. And setting sail from there, they anchored off Abydus, and it came about as they were delaying there four days on account of the lack of wind that the following event took place. Two Massagetae killed one of their comrades who was ridiculing them, in the midst of their intemperate drinking; for they were intoxicated. For of all men the Massagetae are the most intemperate drinkers. Belisarius, accordingly, straightway impaled these two men on the hill which is near Abydus. And since all, and especially the relatives of these two men, were angry and declared that it was not in order to be punished nor to be subject to the laws of the Romans that they had entered into an alliance (for their own laws did not make the punishment for murder such _as_ this, they said); and since they were joined in voicing the accusation against the general even by Roman soldiers, who were anxious that there should be no punishment for their offences, Belisarius called together both the Massagetae and the rest of the army and spoke as follows: "If my words were addressed to men now for the first time entering into war, it would require a long time for me to convince you by speech how great a help justice is for gaining the victory. For those who do not understand the fortunes of such struggles think that the outcome of war lies in strength of arm alone. But you, who have often conquered an enemy not inferior to you in strength of body and well endowed with valour, you who have often tried your strength against your opponents, you, I think, are not ignorant that, while it is men who always do the fighting in either army, it is God who judges the contest as seems best to Him and bestows the victory in battle. Now since this is so, it is fitting to consider good bodily condition and practice in arms and all the other provision for war of less account than justice and those things which pertain to God. For that which may possibly be of greatest advantage to men in need would naturally be honoured by them above all other things. Now the first proof of justice would be the punishment of those who have committed unjust murder. For if it is incumbent upon us to sit in judgment upon the actions which from time to time are committed by men toward their neighbours, and to adjudge and to name the just and the unjust action, we should find that nothing is more precious to a man than his life. And if any barbarian who has slain his kinsman expects to find indulgence in his trial on the ground that he was drunk, in all fairness he makes the charge so much the worse by reason of the very circumstance by which, as he alleges, his guilt is removed. For it is not right for a man under any circumstances, and especially when serving in an army, to be so drunk as readily to kill his dearest friends; nay, the drunkenness itself, even if the murder is not added at all, is worthy of punishment; and when a kinsman is wronged, the crime would clearly be of greater moment as regards punishment than when committed against those who are not kinsmen, at least in the eyes of men of sense. Now the example is before you and you may see what sort of an outcome such actions have. But as for you, it is your duty to avoid laying violent hands upon anyone without provocation, or carrying off the possessions of others; for I shall not overlook it, be assured, and I shall not consider anyone of you a fellow-soldier of mine, no matter how terrible he is reputed to be to the foe, who is not able to use clean hands against the enemy. For bravery cannot be victorious unless it be arrayed along with justice." So spoke Belisarius. And the whole army, hearing what was said and looking up at the two men impaled, felt an overwhelming fear come over them and took thought to conduct their lives with moderation, for they saw that they would not be free from great danger if they should be caught doing anything unlawful. XIII After this Belisarius bethought him how his whole fleet should always keep together as it sailed and should anchor in the same place. For he knew that in a large fleet, and especially if rough winds should assail them, it was inevitable that many of the ships should be left behind and scattered on the open sea, and that their pilots should not know which of the ships that put to sea ahead of them it was better to follow. So after considering the matter, he did as follows. The sails of the three ships in which he and his following were carried he painted red from the upper corner for about one third of their length, and he erected upright poles on the prow of each, and hung lights from them, so that both by day and by night the general's ships might be distinguishable; then he commanded all the pilots to follow these ships. Thus with the three ships leading the whole fleet not a single ship was left behind. And whenever they were about to put out from a harbour, the trumpets announced this to them. And upon setting out from Abydus they met with strong winds which carried them to Sigeum. And again in calm weather they proceeded more leisurely to Malea, where the calm proved of the greatest advantage to them. For since they had a great fleet and exceedingly large ships, as night came on everything was thrown into confusion by reason of their being crowded into small space, and they were brought into extreme peril. At that time both the pilots and the rest of the sailors shewed themselves skilful and efficient, for while shouting at the top of their voices and making a great noise they kept pushing the ships apart with their poles, and cleverly kept the distances between their different vessels; but if a wind had arisen, whether a following or a head wind, it seems to me that the sailors would hardly have preserved themselves and their ships. But as it was, they escaped, as I have said, and put in at Taenarum, which is now called Caenopolis.[41] Then, pressing on from there, they touched at Methone, and found Valerian and Martinus with their men, who had reached the same place a short time before. And since there were no winds blowing, Belisarius anchored the ships there, and disembarked the whole army; and after they were on shore he assigned the commanders their positions and drew up the soldiers. And while he was thus engaged and no wind at all arose, it came about that many of the soldiers were destroyed by disease caused in the following manner. The pretorian prefect, John, was a man of worthless character, and so skilful at devising ways of bringing money into the public treasury to the detriment of men that I, for my part, should never be competent to describe this trait of his. But this has been said in the preceding pages, when I was brought to this point by my narrative.[42] But I shall tell in the present case in what manner he destroyed the soldiers. The bread which soldiers are destined to eat in camp must of necessity be put twice into the oven, and be cooked so carefully as to last for a very long period and not spoil in a short time, and loaves cooked in this way necessarily weigh less; and for this reason, when such bread is distributed, the soldiers generally received as their portion one-fourth more than the usual weight.[43] John, therefore, calculating how he might reduce the amount of firewood used and have less to pay to the bakers in wages, and also how he might not lose in the weight of the bread, brought the still uncooked dough to the public baths of Achilles, in the basement of which the fire is kept burning, and bade his men set it down there. And when it seemed to be cooked in some fashion or other, he threw it into bags, put it on the ships, and sent it off. And when the fleet arrived at Methone, the loaves disintegrated and returned again to flour, not wholesome flour, however, but rotten and becoming mouldy and already giving out a sort of oppressive odour. And the loaves were dispensed by measure[44] to the soldiers by those to whom this office was assigned, and they were already making the distribution of the bread by quarts and bushels. And the soldiers, feeding upon this in the summer time in a place where the climate is very hot, became sick, and not less than five hundred of them died; and the same thing was about to happen to more, but Belisarius prevented it by ordering the bread of the country to be furnished them. And reporting the matter to the emperor, he himself gained in favour, but he did not at that time bring any punishment upon John. These events, then, took place in the manner described. And setting out from Methone they reached the harbour of Zacynthus, where they took in enough water to last them in crossing the Adriatic Sea, and after making all their other preparations, sailed on. But since the wind they had was very gentle and languid, it was only on the sixteenth day that they came to land at a deserted place in Sicily near which Mount Aetna rises. And while they were being delayed in this passage, as has been said, it so happened that the water of the whole fleet was spoiled, except that which Belisarius himself and his table-companions were drinking. For this alone was preserved by the wife of Belisarius in the following manner. She filled with water jars made of glass and constructed a small room with planks in the hold of the ship where it was impossible for the sun to penetrate, and there she sank the jars in sand, and by this means the water remained unaffected. So much, then, for this. XIV And as soon as Belisarius had disembarked upon the island, he began to feel restless, knowing not how to proceed, and his mind was tormented by the thought that he did not know what sort of men the Vandals were against whom he was going, and how strong they were in war, or in what manner the Romans would have to wage the war, or what place would be their base of operations. But most of all he was disturbed by the soldiers, who were in mortal dread of sea-fighting and had no shame in saying beforehand that, if they should be disembarked on the land, they would try to show themselves brave men in the battle, but if hostile ships assailed them, they would turn to flight; for, they said, they were not able to contend against two enemies at once, both men and water. Being at a loss, therefore, because of all these things, he sent Procopius, his adviser, to Syracuse, to find out whether the enemy had any ships in ambush keeping watch over the passage across the sea, either on the island or on the continent, and where it would be best for them to anchor in Libya, and from what point as base it would be advantageous for them to start in carrying on the war against the Vandals. And he bade him, when he should have accomplished his commands, return and meet him at the place called Caucana,[45] about two hundred stades distant from Syracuse, where both he and the whole fleet were to anchor. But he let it be understood that he was sending him to buy provisions, since the Goths were willing to give them a market, this having been decided upon by the Emperor Justinian and Amalasountha, the mother of Antalaric,[46] who was at that time a boy being reared under the care of his mother, Amalasountha, and held sway over both the Goths and the Italians. For when Theoderic had died and the kingdom came to his nephew, Antalaric, who had already before this lost his father, Amalasountha was fearful both for her child and for the kingdom and cultivated the friendship of Justinian very carefully, and she gave heed to his commands in all matters and at that time promised to provide a market for his army and did so. Now when Procopius reached Syracuse, he unexpectedly met a man who had been a fellow-citizen and friend of his from childhood, who had been living in Syracuse for a long time engaged in the shipping business, and he learned from him what he wanted; for this man showed him a domestic who had three days before that very day come from Carthage, and he said that they need not suspect that there would be any ambush set for the fleet by the Vandals. For from no one in the world had they learned that an army was coming against them at that time, but all the active men among the Vandals had actually a little before gone on an expedition against Godas. And for this reason Gelimer, with no thought of an enemy in his mind and regardless of Carthage and all the other places on the sea, was staying in Hermione, which is in Byzacium, four days' journey distant from the coast; so that it was possible for them to sail without fearing any difficulty and to anchor wherever the wind should call them. When Procopius heard this, he took the hand of the domestic and walked to the harbour of Arethousa where his boat lay at anchor, making many enquiries of the man and searching out every detail. And going on board the ship with him, he gave orders to raise the sails and to make all speed for Caucana. And since the master of the domestic stood on the shore wondering that he did not give him back the man, Procopius shouted out, when the ship was already under way, begging him not to be angry with him; for it was necessary that the domestic should meet the general, and, after leading the army to Libya, would return after no long time to Syracuse with much money in his pocket. But upon coming to Caucana they found all in deep grief. For Dorotheus, the general of the troops of Armenia, had died there, leaving to the whole army a great sense of loss. But Belisarius, when the domestic had come before him and related his whole story, became exceedingly glad, and after bestowing many praises upon Procopius, he issued orders to give the signal for departure with the trumpets. And setting sail quickly they touched at the islands of Gaulus and Melita,[47] which mark the boundary between the Adriatic and Tuscan Seas. There a strong east wind arose for them, and on the following day it carried the ships to the point of Libya, at the place which the Romans call in their own tongue "Shoal's Head." For its name is "Caputvada," and it is five days' journey from Carthage for an unencumbered traveller. XV And when they came near the shore, the general bade them furl the sails, throw out anchors from the ships, and make a halt; and calling together all the commanders to his own ship, he opened a discussion with regard to the disembarkation. Thereupon many speeches were made inclining to either side, and Archelaus came forward and spoke as follows: "I admire, indeed, the virtue of our general, who, while surpassing all by far in judgment and possessing the greatest wealth of experience, and at the same time holding the power alone, has proposed an open discussion and bids each one of us speak, so that we shall be able to choose whichever course seems best, though it is possible for him to decide alone on what is needful and at his leisure to put it into execution as he wishes. But as for you, my fellow officers--I do not know how I am to say it easily--one might wonder that each one did not hasten to be the first to oppose the disembarkation. And yet I understand that the making of suggestions to those who are entering upon a perilous course brings no personal advantage to him who offers the advice, but as a general thing results in bringing blame upon him. For when things go well for men, they attribute their success to their own judgment or to fortune, but when they fail, they blame only the one who has advised them. Nevertheless I shall speak out. For it is not right for those who deliberate about safety to shrink from blame. You are purposing to disembark on the enemy's land, fellow-officers; but in what harbour are you planning to place the ships in safety? Or in what city's wall will you find security for yourselves? Have you not then heard that this promontory--I mean from Carthage to Iouce--extends, they say, for a journey of nine days, altogether without harbours and lying open to the wind from whatever quarter it may blow? And not a single walled town is left in all Libya except Carthage, thanks to the decision of Gizeric.[48] And one might add that in this place, they say, water is entirely lacking. Come now, if you wish, let us suppose that some adversity befall us, and with this in view make the decision. For that those who enter into contests of arms should expect no difficulty is not in keeping with human experience nor with the nature of things. If, then, after we have disembarked upon the mainland, a storm should fall upon us, will it not be necessary that one of two things befall the ships, either that they flee away as far as possible, or perish upon this promontory? Secondly, what means will there be of supplying us with necessities? Let no one look to me as the officer charged with the maintenance of the army. For every official, when deprived of the means of administering his office, is of necessity reduced to the name and character of a private person. And where shall we deposit our superfluous arms or any other part of our necessaries when we are compelled to receive the attack of the barbarians? Nay, as for this, it is not well even to say how it will turn out. But I think that we ought to make straight for Carthage. For they say that there is a harbour called Stagnum not more than forty stades distant from that city, which is entirely unguarded and large enough for the whole fleet. And if we make this the base of our operations, we shall carry on the war without difficulty. And I, for my part, think it likely that we shall win Carthage by a sudden attack, especially since the enemy are far away from it, and that after we have won it we shall have no further trouble. For it is a way with all men's undertakings that when the chief point has been captured, they collapse after no long time. It behoves us, therefore, to bear in mind all these things and to choose the best course." So spoke Archelaus. And Belisarius spoke as follows: "Let no one of you, fellow-officers, think that my words are those of censure, nor that they are spoken in the last place to the end that it may become necessary for all to follow them, of whatever sort they may be. For I have heard what seems best to each one of you, and it is becoming that I too should lay before you what I think, and then with you should choose the better course. But it is right to remind you of this fact, that the soldiers said openly a little earlier that they feared the dangers by sea and would turn to flight if a hostile ship should attack them, and we prayed God to shew us the land of Libya and allow us a peaceful disembarkation upon it. And since this is so, I think it the part of foolish men first to pray to receive from God the more favourable fortune, then when this is given them, to reject it and go in the contrary direction. And if we do sail straight for Carthage and a hostile fleet encounters us, the soldiers will remain without blame, if they flee with all their might--for a delinquency announced beforehand carries with it its own defence--but for us, even if we come through safely, there will be no forgiveness. Now while there are many difficulties if we remain in the ships, it will be sufficient, I think, to mention only one thing,--that by which especially they wish to frighten us when they hold over our heads the danger of a storm. For if any storm should fall upon us, one of two things, they say, must necessarily befall the ships, either that they flee far from Libya or be destroyed upon this headland. What then under the present circumstances will be more to our advantage to choose? to have the ships alone destroyed, or to have lost everything, men and all? But apart from this, at the present time we shall fall upon the enemy unprepared, and in all probability shall fare as we desire; for in warfare it is the unexpected which is accustomed to govern the course of events. But a little later, when the enemy have already made their preparation, the struggle we shall have will be one of strength evenly matched. And one might add that it will be necessary perhaps to fight even for the disembarkation, and to seek for that which now we have within our grasp but over which we are deliberating as a thing not necessary. And if at the very time, when we are engaged in conflict, a storm also comes upon us, as often happens on the sea, then while struggling both against the waves and against the Vandals, we shall come to regret our prudence. As for me, then, I say that we must disembark upon the land with all possible speed, landing horses and arms and whatever else we consider necessary for our use, and that we must dig a trench quickly and throw a stockade around us of a kind which can contribute to our safety no less than any walled town one might mention, and with that as our base must carry on the war from there if anyone should attack us. And if we shew ourselves brave men, we shall lack nothing in the way of provisions. For those who hold the mastery over their enemy are lords also of the enemy's possessions; and it is the way of victory, first to invest herself with all the wealth, and then to set it down again on that side to which she inclines. Therefore, for you both the chance of safety and of having an abundance of good things lies in your own hands." When Belisarius had said this, the whole assembly agreed and adopted his proposal, and separating from one another, they made the disembarkation as quickly as possible, about three months later than their departure from Byzantium. And indicating a certain spot on the shore the general bade both soldiers and sailors dig the trench and place the stockade about it. And they did as directed. And since a great throng was working and fear was stimulating their enthusiasm and the general was urging them on, not only was the trench dug on the same day, but the stockade was also completed and the pointed stakes were fixed in place all around. Then, indeed, while they were digging the trench, something happened which was altogether amazing. A great abundance of water sprang forth from the earth, a thing which had not happened before in Byzacium, and besides this the place where they were was altogether waterless. Now this water sufficed for all uses of both men and animals. And in congratulating the general, Procopius said that he rejoiced at the abundance of water, not so much because of its usefulness, as because it seemed to him a symbol of an easy victory, and that Heaven was foretelling a victory to them. This, at any rate, actually came to pass. So for that night all the soldiers bivouacked in the camp, setting guards and doing everything else as was customary, except, indeed, that Belisarius commanded five bowmen to remain in each ship for the purpose of a guard, and that the ships-of-war should anchor in a circle about them, taking care that no one should come against them to do them harm. XVI But on the following day, when some of the soldiers went out into the fields and laid hands on the fruit, the general inflicted corporal punishment of no casual sort upon them, and he called all the army together and spoke as follows: "This using of violence and the eating of that which belongs to others seems at other times a wicked thing only on this account, that injustice is in the deed itself, as the saying is; but in the present instance so great an element of detriment is added to the wrongdoing that--if it is not too harsh to say so--we must consider the question of justice of less account and calculate the magnitude of the danger that may arise from your act. For I have disembarked you upon this land basing my confidence on this alone, that the Libyans, being Romans from of old, are unfaithful and hostile to the Vandals, and for this reason I thought that no necessaries would fail us and, besides, that the enemy would not do us any injury by a sudden attack. But now this your lack of self-control has changed it all and made the opposite true. For you have doubtless reconciled the Libyans to the Vandals, bringing their hostility round upon your own selves. For by nature those who are wronged feel enmity toward those who have done them violence, and it has come round to this that you have exchanged your own safety and a bountiful supply of good things for some few pieces of silver, when it was possible for you, by purchasing provisions from willing owners, not to appear unjust and at the same time to enjoy their friendship to the utmost. Now, therefore, the war will be between you and both Vandals and Libyans, and I, at least, say further that it will be against God himself, whose aid no one who does wrong can invoke. But do you cease trespassing wantonly upon the possessions of others, and reject a gain which is full of dangers. For this is that time in which above all others moderation is able to save, but lawlessness leads to death. For if you give heed to these things, you will find God propitious, the Libyan people well-disposed, and the race of the Vandals open to your attack." With these words Belisarius dismissed the assembly. And at that time he heard that the city of Syllectus was distant one day's journey from the camp, lying close to the sea on the road leading to Carthage, and that the wall of this city had been torn down for a long time, but the inhabitants of the place had made a barrier on all sides by means of the walls of their houses, on account of the attacks of the Moors, and guarded a kind of fortified enclosure; he, accordingly, sent one of his spearmen, Boriades, together with some of the guards, commanding them to make an attempt oh the city, and, if they captured it, to do no harm in it, but to promise a thousand good things and to say that they had come for the sake of the people's freedom, that so the army might be able to enter into it. And they came near the city about dusk and passed the night hidden in a ravine. But at early dawn, meeting country folk going into the city with waggons, they entered quietly with them and with no trouble took possession of the city. And when day came, no one having begun any disturbance, they called together the priest and all the other notables and announced the commands of the general, and receiving the keys of the entrances from willing hands, they sent them to the general. On the same day the overseer of the public post deserted, handing over all the government horses. And they captured also one of those who are occasionally sent to bear the royal responses, whom they call "veredarii"[49]; and the general did him no harm but presented him with much gold and, receiving pledges from him, put into his hand the letter which the Emperor Justinian had written to the Vandals, that he might give it to the magistrates of the Vandals. And the writing was as follows: "Neither have we decided to make war upon the Vandals, nor are we breaking the treaty of Gizeric, but we are attempting to dethrone your tyrant, who, making light of the testament of Gizeric, has imprisoned your king and is keeping him in custody, and those of his relatives whom he hated exceedingly he put to death at the first, and the rest, after robbing them of their sight, he keeps under guard, not allowing them to terminate their misfortunes by death. Do you, therefore, join forces with us and help us in freeing yourselves from so wicked a tyranny, in order that you may be able to enjoy both peace and freedom. For we give you pledges in the name of God that these things will come to you by our hand." Such was the message of the emperor's letter. But the man who received this from Belisarius did not dare to publish it openly, and though he shewed it secretly to his friends, he accomplished nothing whatever of consequence. XVII And Belisarius, having arrayed his army as for battle in the following manner, began the march to Carthage. He chose out three hundred of his guards, men who were able warriors, and handed them over to John, who was in charge of the expenditures of the general's household; such a person the Romans call "optio."[50] And he was an Armenian by birth, a man gifted with discretion and courage in the highest degree. This John, then, he commanded to go ahead of the army, at a distance of not less than twenty stades, and if he should see anything of the enemy, to report it with all speed, so that they might not be compelled to enter into battle unprepared. And the allied Massagetae he commanded to travel constantly on the left of the army, keeping as many stades away or more; and he himself marched in the rear with the best troops. For he suspected that it would not be long before Gelimer, following them from Hermione, would make an attack upon them. And these precautions were sufficient, for on the right side there was no fear, since they were travelling not far from the coast. And he commanded the sailors to follow along with them always and not to separate themselves far from the army, but when the wind was favouring to lower the great sails, and follow with the small sails, which they call "dolones,"[51] and when the wind dropped altogether to keep the ships under way as well as they could by rowing. And when Belisarius reached Syllectus, the soldiers behaved with moderation, and they neither began any unjust brawls nor did anything out of the way, and he himself, by displaying great gentleness and kindness, won the Libyans to his side so completely that thereafter he made the journey as if in his own land; for neither did the inhabitants of the land withdraw nor did they wish to conceal anything, but they both furnished a market and served the soldiers in whatever else they wished. And accomplishing eighty stades each day, we completed the whole journey to Carthage, passing the night either in a city, should it so happen, or in a camp made as thoroughly secure as the circumstances permitted. Thus we passed through the city of Leptis and Hadrumetum and reached the place called Grasse, three hundred and fifty stades distant from Carthage. In that place was a palace of the ruler of the Vandals and a park the most beautiful of all we know. For it is excellently watered by springs and has a great wealth of woods. And all the trees are full of fruit; so that each one of the soldiers pitched his tent among fruit-trees, and though all of them ate their fill of the fruit, which was then ripe, there was practically no diminution to be seen in the fruit. But Gelimer, as soon as he heard in Hermione that the enemy were at hand, wrote to his brother Ammatas in Carthage to kill Ilderic and all the others, connected with him either by birth or otherwise, whom he was keeping under guard, and commanded him to make ready the Vandals and all others in the city serviceable for war, in order that, when the enemy got inside the narrow passage at the suburb of the city which they call Decimum,[52] they might come together from both sides and surround them and, catching them as in a net, destroy them. And Ammatas carried this out, and killed Ilderic, who was a relative of his, and Euagees, and all the Libyans who were intimate with them. For Hoamer had already departed from the world.[53] And arming the Vandals, he made them ready, intending to make his attack at the opportune moment. But Gelimer was following behind, without letting it be known to us, except, indeed, that, on that night when we bivouacked in Grasse, scouts coming from both armies met each other, and after an exchange of blows they each retired to their own camp, and in this way it became evident to us that the enemy were not far away. As we proceeded from there it was impossible to discern the ships. For high rocks extending well into the sea cause mariners to make a great circuit, and there is a projecting headland,[54] inside of which lies the town of Hermes. Belisarius therefore commanded Archelaus, the prefect, and Calonymus, the admiral, not to put in at Carthage, but to remain about two hundred stades away until he himself should summon them. And departing from Grasse we came on the fourth day to Decimum, seventy stades distant from Carthage. XVIII And on that day Gelimer commanded his nephew Gibamundus with two thousand of the Vandals to go ahead of the rest of the army on the left side, in order that Ammatas coming from Carthage, Gelimer himself from the rear, and Gibamundus from the country to the left, might unite and accomplish the task of encircling the enemy with less difficulty and exertion. But as for me, during this struggle I was moved to wonder at the ways of Heaven and of men, noting how God, who sees from afar what will come to pass, traces out the manner in which it seems best to him that things should come to pass, while men, whether they are deceived or counsel aright, know not that they have failed, should that be the issue, or that they have succeeded, God's purpose being that a path shall be made for Fortune, who presses on inevitably toward that which has been foreordained. For if Belisarius had not thus arranged his forces, commanding the men under John to take the lead, and the Massagetae to march on the left of the army, we should never have been able to escape the Vandals. And even with this planned so by Belisarius, if Ammatas had observed the opportune time, and had not anticipated this by about the fourth part of a day, never would the cause of the Vandals have fallen as it did; but as it was, Ammatas came to Decimum about midday, in advance of the time, while both we and the Vandal army were far away, erring not only in that he did not arrive at the fitting time, but also in leaving at Carthage the host of the Vandals, commanding them to come to Decimum as quickly as possible, while he with a few men and not even the pick of the army came into conflict with John's men. And he killed twelve of the best men who were fighting in the front rank, and he himself fell, having shewn himself a brave man in this engagement. And the rout, after Ammatas fell, became complete, and the Vandals, fleeing at top speed, swept back all those who were coming from Carthage to Decimum. For they were advancing in no order and not drawn up as for battle, but in companies, and small ones at that; for they were coming in bands of twenty or thirty. And seeing the Vandals under Ammatas fleeing, and thinking their pursuers were a great multitude, they turned and joined in the flight. And John and his men, killing all whom they came upon, advanced as far as the gates of Carthage. And there was so great a slaughter of Vandals in the course of the seventy stades that those who beheld it would have supposed that it was the work of an enemy twenty thousand strong. At the same time Gibamundus and his two thousand came to Pedion Halon, which is forty stades distant from Decimum on the left as one goes to Carthage, and is destitute of human habitation or trees or anything else, since the salt in the water permits nothing except salt to be produced there; in that place they encountered the Huns and were all destroyed. Now there was a certain man among the Massagetae, well gifted with courage and strength of body, the leader of a few men; this man had the privilege handed down from his fathers and ancestors to be the first in all the Hunnic armies to attack the enemy. For it was not lawful for a man of the Massagetae to strike first in battle and capture one of the enemy until, indeed, someone from this house began the struggle with the enemy. So when the two armies had come not far from each other, this man rode out and stopped alone close to the army of the Vandals. And the Vandals, either because they were dumbfounded at the courageous spirit of the man or perhaps because they suspected that the enemy were contriving something against them, decided neither to move nor to shoot at the man. And I think that, since they had never had experience of battle with the Massagetae, but heard that the nation was very warlike, they were for this reason terrified at the danger. And the man, returning to his compatriots, said that God had sent them these strangers as a ready feast. Then at length they made their onset and the Vandals did not withstand them, but breaking their ranks and never thinking of resistance, they were all disgracefully destroyed. XIX But we, having learned nothing at all of what had happened, were going on to Decimum. And Belisarius, seeing a place well adapted for a camp, thirty-five stades distant from Decimum, surrounded it with a stockade which was very well made, and placing all the infantry there and calling together the whole army, he spoke as follows: "Fellow-soldiers, the decisive moment of the struggle is already at hand; for I perceive that the enemy are advancing upon us; and the ships have been taken far away from us by the nature of the place; and it has come round to this that our hope of safety lies in the strength of our hands. For there is not a friendly city, no, nor any other stronghold, in which we may put our trust and have confidence concerning ourselves. But if we should show ourselves brave men, it is probable that we shall still overcome the enemy in the war; but if we should weaken at all, it will remain for us to fall under the hand of the Vandals and to be destroyed disgracefully. And yet there are many advantages on our side to help us on toward victory; for we have with us both justice, with which we have come against our enemy (for we are here in order to recover what is our own), and the hatred of the Vandals toward their own tyrant. For the alliance of God follows naturally those who put justice forward, and a soldier who is ill-disposed toward his ruler knows not how to play the part of a brave man. And apart from this, we have been engaged with Persians and Scythians all the time, but the Vandals, since the time they conquered Libya, have seen not a single enemy except naked Moors. And who does not know that in every work practice leads to skill, while idleness leads to inefficiency? Now the stockade, from which we shall have to carry on the war, has been made by us in the best possible manner. And we are able to deposit here our weapons and everything else which we are not able to carry when we go forth; and when we return here again, no kind of provisions can fail us. And I pray that each one of you, calling to mind his own valour and those whom he has left at home, may so march with contempt against the enemy." After speaking these words and uttering a prayer after them, Belisarius left his wife and the barricaded camp to the infantry, and himself set forth with all the horsemen. For it did not seem to him advantageous for the present to risk an engagement with the whole army, but it seemed wise to skirmish first with the horsemen and make trial of the enemy's strength, and finally to fight a decisive battle with the whole army. Sending forward, therefore, the commanders of the foederati,[55] he himself followed with the rest of the force and his own spearmen and guards. And when the foederati and their leaders reached Decimum, they saw the corpses of the fallen--twelve comrades from the forces of John and near them Ammatas and some of the Vandals. And hearing from the inhabitants of the place the whole story of the fight, they were vexed, being at a loss as to where they ought to go. But while they were still at a loss and from the hills were looking around over the whole country thereabouts, a dust appeared from the south and a little later a very large force of Vandal horsemen. And they sent to Belisarius urging him to come as quickly as possible, since the enemy were bearing down upon them. And the opinions of the commanders were divided. For some thought that they ought to close with their assailants, but the others said that their force was not sufficient for this. And while they were debating thus among themselves, the barbarians drew near under the leadership of Gelimer, who was following a road between the one which Belisarius was travelling and the one by which the Massagetae who had encountered Gibamundus had come. But since the land was hilly on both sides, it did not allow him to see either the disaster of Gibamundus or Belisarius' stockade, nor even the road along which Belisarius' men were advancing. But when they came near each other, a contest arose between the two armies as to which should capture the highest of all the hills there. For it seemed a suitable one to encamp upon, and both sides preferred to engage with the enemy from there. And the Vandals, coming first, took possession of the hill by crowding off their assailants and routed the enemy, having already become an object of terror to them. And the Romans in flight came to a place seven stades distant from Decimum, where, as it happened, Uliaris, the personal guard of Belisarius, was, with eight hundred guardsmen. And all supposed that Uliaris would receive them and hold his position, and together with them would go against the Vandals; but when they came together, these troops all unexpectedly fled at top speed and went on the run to Belisarius. From then on I am unable to say what happened to Gelimer that, having the victory in his hands, he willingly gave it up to the enemy, unless one ought to refer foolish actions also to God, who, whenever He purposes that some adversity shall befall a man, touches first his reason and does not permit that which will be to his advantage to come to his consideration. For if, on the one hand, he had made the pursuit immediately, I do not think that even Belisarius would have withstood him, but our cause would have been utterly and completely lost, so numerous appeared the force of the Vandals and so great the fear they inspired in the Romans; or if, on the other hand, he had even ridden straight for Carthage, he would easily have killed all John's men, who, heedless of everything else, were wandering about the plain one by one or by twos and stripping the dead. And he would have preserved the city with its treasures, and captured our ships, which had come rather near, and he would have withdrawn from us all hope both of sailing away and of victory. But in fact he did neither of these things. Instead he descended from the hill at a walk, and when he reached the level ground and saw the corpse of his brother, he turned to lamentations, and, in caring for his burial, he blunted the edge of his opportunity--an opportunity which he was not able to grasp again. Meantime Belisarius, meeting the fugitives, bade them stop, and arrayed them all in order and rebuked them at length; then, after hearing of the death of Ammatas and the pursuit of John, and learning what he wished concerning the place and the enemy, he proceeded at full speed against Gelimer and the Vandals. But the barbarians, having already fallen into disorder and being now unprepared, did not withstand the onset of the Romans, but fled with all their might, losing many there, and the battle ended at night. Now the Vandals were in flight, not to Carthage nor to Byzacium, whence they had come, but to the plain of Boulla and the road leading into Numidia. So the men with John and the Massagetae returned to us about dusk, and after learning all that had happened and reporting what they had done, they passed the night with us in Decimum. XX But on the following day the infantry with the wife of Belisarius came up and we all proceeded together on the road toward Carthage, which we reached in the late evening; and we passed the night in the open, although no one hindered us from marching into the city at once. For the Carthaginians opened the gates and burned lights everywhere and the city was brilliant with the illumination that whole night, and those of the Vandals who had been left behind were sitting as suppliants in the sanctuaries. But Belisarius prevented the entrance in order to guard against any ambuscade being set for his men by the enemy, and also to prevent the soldiers from having freedom to turn to plundering, as they might under the concealment of night. On that day, since an east wind arose for them, the ships reached the headland, and the Carthaginians, for they already sighted them, removed the iron chains of the harbour which they call Mandracium, and made it possible for the fleet to enter. Now there is in the king's palace a room filled with darkness, which the Carthaginians call Ancon, where all were cast with whom the tyrant was angry. In that place, as it happened, many of the eastern merchants had been confined up to that time. For Gelimer was angry with these men, charging them with having urged the emperor on to the war, and they were about to be destroyed, all of them, this having been decided upon by Gelimer on that day on which Ammatas was killed in Decimum; to such an extremity of danger did they come. The guard of this prison, upon hearing what had taken place in Decimum and seeing the fleet inside the point, entered the room and enquired of the men, who had not yet learned the good news, but were sitting in the darkness and expecting death, what among their possessions they would be willing to give up and be saved. And when they said they desired to give everything he might wish, he demanded nothing of all their treasures, but required them all to swear that, if they escaped, they would assist him also with all their power when he came into danger. And they did this. Then he told them them the whole story, and tearing off a plank from the side toward the sea, he pointed out the fleet approaching, and releasing all from the prison went out with them. But the men on the ships, having as yet heard nothing of what the army had done on the land, were completely at a loss, and slackening their sails they sent to the town of Mercurium; there they learned what had taken place at Decimum, and becoming exceedingly joyful sailed on. And when, with a favouring wind blowing, they came to within one hundred and fifty stades of Carthage, Archelaus and the soldiers bade them anchor there, fearing the warning of the general, but the sailors would not obey. For they said that the promontory at that point was without a harbour and also that the indications were that a well-known storm, which the natives call Cypriana, would arise immediately. And they predicted that, if it came upon them in that place, they would not be able to save even one of the ships. And it was as they said. So they slackened their sails for a short time and deliberated; and they did not think they ought to try for Mandracium (for they shrank from violating the commands of Belisarius, and at the same time they suspected that the entrance to Mandracium was closed by the chains, and besides they feared that this harbour was not sufficient for the whole fleet) but Stagnum seemed to them well situated (for it is forty stades distant from Carthage), and there was nothing in it to hinder them, and also it was large enough for the whole fleet. There they arrived about dusk and all anchored, except, indeed, that Calonymus with some of the sailors, disregarding the general and all the others, went off secretly to Mandracium, no one daring to hinder him, and plundered the property of the merchants dwelling on the sea, both foreigners and Carthaginians. On the following day Belisarius commanded those on the ships to disembark, and after marshalling the whole army and drawing it up in battle formation, he marched into Carthage; for he feared lest he should encounter some snare set by the enemy. There he reminded the soldiers at length of how much good fortune had come to them because they had displayed moderation toward the Libyans, and he exhorted them earnestly to preserve good order with the greatest care in Carthage. For all the Libyans had been Romans in earlier times and had come under the Vandals by no will of their own and had suffered many outrages at the hands of these barbarians. For this very reason the emperor had entered into war with the Vandals, and it was not holy that any harm should come from them to the people whose freedom they had made the ground for taking the field against the Vandals. [Sept. 15, 533 A.D.] After such words of exhortation he entered Carthage, and, since no enemy was seen by them, he went up to the palace and seated himself on Gelimer's throne. There a crowd of merchants and other Carthaginians came before Belisarius with much shouting, persons whose homes were on the sea, and they made the charge that there had been a robbery of their property on the preceding night by the sailors. And Belisarius bound Calonymus by oaths to bring without fail all his thefts to the light. And Calonymus, taking the oath and disregarding what he had sworn, for the moment made the money his plunder, but not long afterwards he paid his just penalty in Byzantium. For being taken with the disease called apoplexy, he became insane and bit off his own tongue and then died. But this happened at a later time. XXI But then, since the hour was appropriate, Belisarius commanded that lunch be prepared for them, in the very place where Gelimer was accustomed to entertain the leaders of the Vandals. This place the Romans call "Delphix," not in their own tongue, but using the Greek word according to the ancient custom. For in the palace at Rome, where the dining couches of the emperor were placed, a tripod had stood from olden times, on which the emperor's cupbearers used to place the cups. Now the Romans call a tripod "Delphix," since they were first made at Delphi, and from this both in Byzantium and wherever there is a king's dining couch they call the room "Delphix"; for the Romans follow the Greek also in calling the emperor's residence "Palatium." For a Greek named Pallas lived in this place before the capture of Troy and built a noteworthy house there, and they called this dwelling "Palatium"; and when Augustus received the imperial power, he decided to take up his first residence in that house, and from this they call the place wherever the emperor resides "Palatium." So Belisarius dined in the Delphix and with him all the notables of the army. And it happened that the lunch made for Gelimer on the preceding day was in readiness. And we feasted on that very food and the domestics of Gelimer served it and poured the wine and waited upon us in every way. And it was possible to see Fortune in her glory and making a display of the fact that all things are hers and that nothing is the private possession of any man. And it fell to the lot of Belisarius on that day to win such fame as no one of the men of his time ever won nor indeed any of the men of olden times. For though the Roman soldiers were not accustomed to enter a subject city without confusion, even if they numbered only five hundred, and especially if they made the entry unexpectedly, all the soldiers under the command of this general showed themselves so orderly that there was not a single act of insolence nor a threat, and indeed nothing happened to hinder the business of the city; but in a captured city, one which had changed its government and shifted its allegiance, it came about that no man's household was excluded from the privileges of the marketplace; on the contrary, the clerks drew up their lists of the men and conducted the soldiers to their lodgings, just as usual,[56] and the soldiers themselves, getting their lunch by purchase from the market, rested as each one wished. Afterwards Belisarius gave pledges to those Vandals who had fled into the sanctuaries, and began to take thought for the fortifications. For the circuit-wall of Carthage had been so neglected that in many places it had become accessible to anyone who wished and easy to attack. For no small part of it had fallen down, and it was for this reason, the Carthaginians said, that Gelimer had not made his stand in the city. For he thought that it would be impossible in a short time to restore such a circuit-wall to a safe condition. And they said that an old oracle had been uttered by the children in earlier times in Carthage, to the effect that "gamma shall pursue beta, and again beta itself shall pursue gamma." And at that time it had been spoken by the children in play and had been left as an unexplained riddle, but now it was perfectly clear to all. For formerly Gizeric had driven out Boniface and now Belisarius was doing the same to Gelimer. This, then, whether it was a rumour or an oracle, came out as I have stated. At that time a dream also came to light, which had been seen often before this by many persons, but without being clear as to how it would turn out. And the dream was as follows. Cyprian,[57] a holy man, is reverenced above all others by the Carthaginians. And they have founded a very noteworthy temple in his honour before the city on the sea-shore, in which they conduct all other customary services, and also celebrate there a festival which they call the "Cypriana"; and the sailors are accustomed to name after Cyprian the storm, which I mentioned lately,[58] giving it the same name as the festival, since it is wont to come on at the time at which the Libyans have always been accustomed to celebrate the festival. This temple the Vandals took from the Christians by violence in the reign of Honoric. And they straightway drove out their priests from the temple in great dishonour, and themselves thereafter attended to the sacred festival which, they said, now belonged to the Arians. And the Libyans, indeed, were angry on this account and altogether at a loss, but Cyprian, they say, often sent them a dream saying that there was not the least need for the Christians to be concerned about him; for he himself as time went on would be his own avenger. And when the report of this was passed around and came to all the Libyans, they were expecting that some vengeance would come upon the Vandals at some time because of this sacred festival, but were unable to conjecture how in the world the vision would be realized for them. Now, therefore, when the emperor's expedition had come to Libya, since the time had already come round and would bring the celebration of the festival on the succeeding day, the priests of the Arians, in spite of the fact that Ammatas had led the Vandals to Decimum, cleansed the whole sanctuary and were engaged in hanging up the most beautiful of the votive offerings there, and making ready the lamps and bringing out the treasures from the store-houses and preparing all things with exactness, arranging everything according to its appropriate use. But the events in Decimum turned out in the manner already described. And the priests of the Arians were off in flight, while the Christians who conform to the orthodox faith came to the temple of Cyprian, and they burned all the lamps and attended to the sacred festival just as is customary for them to perform this service, and thus it was known to all what the vision of the dream was foretelling. This, then, came about in this way. XXII And the Vandals, recalling an ancient saying, marvelled, understanding clearly thereafter that for a man, at least, no hope could be impossible nor any possession secure. And what this saying was and in what manner it was spoken I shall explain. When the Vandals originally, pressed by hunger, were about to remove from their ancestral abodes, a certain part of them was left behind who were reluctant to go and not desirous of following Godigisclus. And as time went on it seemed to those who had remained that they were well off as regards abundance of provisions, and Gizeric with his followers gained possession of Libya. And when this was heard by those who had not followed Godigisclus, they rejoiced, since thenceforth the country was altogether sufficient for them to live upon. But fearing lest at some time much later either the very ones who had conquered Libya, or their descendants, should in some way or other be driven out of Libya and return to their ancestral homes (for they never supposed that the Romans would let Libya be held for ever), they sent ambassadors to them. And these men, upon coming before Gizeric, said that they rejoiced with their compatriots who had met with such success, but that they were no longer able to guard the land of which he and his men had thought so little that they had settled in Libya. They prayed therefore that, if they laid no claim to their fatherland, they would bestow it as an unprofitable possession upon themselves, so that their title to the land might be made as secure as possible, and if anyone should come to do it harm, they might by no means disdain to die in behalf of it. Gizeric, accordingly, and all the other Vandals thought that they spoke fairly and justly, and they were in the act of granting everything which the envoys desired of them. But a certain old man who was esteemed among them and had a great reputation for discretion said that he would by no means permit such a thing. "For in human affairs," he said, "not one thing stands secure; nay, nothing which now exists is stable for all time for men, while as regards that which does not yet exist, there is nothing which may not come to pass." When Gizeric heard this, he expressed approval and decided to send the envoys away with nothing accomplished. Now at that time both he himself and the man who had given the advice were judged worthy of ridicule by all the Vandals, as foreseeing the impossible. But when these things which have been told took place, the Vandals learned to take a different view of the nature of human affairs and realized that the saying was that of a wise man. Now as for those Vandals who remained in their native land, neither remembrance nor any name of them has been preserved to my time.[59] For since, I suppose, they were a small number, they were either overpowered by the neighbouring barbarians or they were mingled with them not at all unwillingly and their name gave way to that of their conquerors. Indeed, when the Vandals were conquered at that time by Belisarius, no thought occurred to them to go from there to their ancestral homes. For they were not able to convey themselves suddenly from Libya to Europe, especially as they had no ships at hand, but paid the penalty[60] there for all the wrongs they had done the Romans and especially the Zacynthians. For at one time Gizeric, falling suddenly upon the towns in the Peloponnesus, undertook to assault Taenarum. And being repulsed from there and losing many of his followers he retired in complete disorder. And while he was still filled with anger on account of this, he touched at Zacynthus, and having killed many of those he met and enslaved five hundred of the notables, he sailed away soon afterwards. And when he reached the middle of the Adriatic Sea, as it is called, he cut into small pieces the bodies of the five hundred and threw them all about the sea without the least concern. But this happened in earlier times. XXIII But at that time Gelimer, by distributing much money to the farmers among the Libyans and shewing great friendliness toward them, succeeded in winning many to his side. These he commanded to kill the Romans who went out into the country, proclaiming a fixed sum of gold for each man killed, to be paid to him who did the deed. And they killed many from the Roman army, not soldiers, however, but slaves and servants, who because of a desire for money went up into the villages stealthily and were caught. And the farmers brought their heads before Gelimer and departed receiving their pay, while he supposed that they had slain soldiers of the enemy. At that time Diogenes, the aide of Belisarius, made a display of valorous deeds. For having been sent, together with twenty-two of the body-guards, to spy upon their opponents, he came to a place two days' journey distant from Carthage. And the farmers of the place, being unable to kill these men, reported to Gelimer that they were there. And he chose out and sent against them three hundred horsemen of the Vandals, enjoining upon them to bring all the men alive before him. For it seemed to him a most remarkable achievement to make captive a personal aide of Belisarius with twenty-two body-guards. Now Diogenes and his party had entered a certain house and were sleeping in the upper storey, having no thought of the enemy in mind, since, indeed, they had learned that their opponents were far away. But the Vandals, coming there at early dawn, thought it would not be to their advantage to destroy the doors of the house or to enter it in the dark, fearing lest, being involved in a night encounter, they might themselves destroy one another, and at the same time, if that should happen, provide a way of escape for a large number of the enemy in the darkness. But they did this because cowardice had paralyzed their minds, though it would have been possible for them with no trouble, by carrying torches or even without these, to catch their enemies in their beds not only without weapons, but absolutely naked besides. But as it was, they made a phalanx in a circle about the whole house and especially at the doors, and all took their stand there. But in the meantime it so happened that one of the Roman soldiers was roused from sleep, and he, noticing the noise which the Vandals made as they talked stealthily among themselves and moved with their weapons, was able to comprehend what was being done, and rousing each one of his comrades silently, he told them what was going on. And they, following the opinion of Diogenes, all put on their clothes quietly and taking up their weapons went below. There they put the bridles on their horses and leaped upon them unperceived by anyone. And after standing for a time by the court-yard entrance, they suddenly opened the door there, and straightway all came out. And then the Vandals immediately closed with them, but they accomplished nothing. For the Romans rode hard, covering themselves with their shields and warding off their assailants with their spears. And in this way Diogenes escaped the enemy, losing two of his followers, but saving the rest. He himself, however, received three blows in this encounter on the neck and the face, from which indeed he came within a little of dying, and one blow also on the left hand, as a result of which he was thereafter unable to move his little finger. This, then, took place in this way. And Belisarius offered great sums of money to the artisans engaged in the building trade and to the general throng of workmen, and by this means he dug a trench deserving of great admiration about the circuit-wall, and setting stakes close together along it he made an excellent stockade about the fortifications. And not only this, but he built up in a short time the portions of the wall which had suffered, a thing which seemed worthy of wonder not only to the Carthaginians, but also to Gelimer himself at a later time. For when he came as a captive to Carthage, he marvelled when he saw the wall and said that his own negligence had proved the cause of all his present troubles. This, then, was accomplished by Belisarius while in Carthage. XXIV But Tzazon, the brother of Gelimer, reached Sardinia with the expedition which has been mentioned above[61] and disembarked at the harbour of Caranalis[62]; and at the first onset he captured the city and killed the tyrant Godas and all the fighting men about him. And when he heard that the emperor's expedition was in the land of Libya, having as yet learned nothing of what had been done there, he wrote to Gelimer as follows: "Know, O King of the Vandals and Alani, that the tyrant Godas has perished, having fallen into our hands, and that the island is again under thy kingdom, and celebrate the festival of triumph. And as for the enemy who have had the daring to march against our land, expect that their attempt will come to the same fate as that experienced by those who in former times marched against our ancestors." And those who took this letter sailed into the harbour of Carthage with no thought of the enemy in mind. And being brought by the guards before the general, they put the letter into his hands and gave him information on the matters about which he enquired, being thunderstruck at what they beheld and awed at the suddenness of the change; however, they suffered nothing unpleasant at the hand of Belisarius. At this same time another event also occurred as follows. A short time before the emperor's expedition reached Libya, Gelimer had sent envoys into Spain, among whom were Gothaeus and Fuscias, in order to persuade Theudis, the ruler of the Visigoths,[63] to establish an alliance with the Vandals. And these envoys, upon disembarking on the mainland after crossing the strait at Gadira, found Theudis in a place situated far from the sea. And when they had come up to the place where he was, Theudis received them with friendliness and entertained them heartily, and during the feast he pretended to enquire how matters stood with Gelimer and the Vandals. Now since these envoys had travelled to him rather slowly, it happened that he had heard from others everything which had befallen the Vandals. For one merchant ship sailing for trade had put out from Carthage on the very same day as the army marched into the city, and finding a favouring wind, had come to Spain. From those on this ship Theudis learned all that had happened in Libya, but he forbade the merchants to reveal it to anyone, in order that this might not become generally known. And when Gothaeus and his followers replied that everything was as well as possible for them, he asked them for what purpose, then, they had come. And when they proposed the alliance, Theudis bade them go to the sea-coast; "For from there," he said, "you will learn of the affairs at home with certainty." And the envoys, supposing that the man was in his cups and his words were not sane, remained silent. But when on the following day they met him and made mention of the alliance, and Theudis used the same words a second time, then at length they understood that some change of fortune had befallen them in Libya, but never once thinking of Carthage they sailed for the city. And upon coming to land close by it and happening upon Roman soldiers, they put themselves in their hands to do with them as they wished. And from there they were led away to the general, and reporting the whole story, they suffered no harm at his hand. These things, then, happened thus. And Cyril,[64] upon coming near to Sardinia and learning what had happened to Godas, sailed to Carthage, and there, finding the Roman army and Belisarius victorious, he remained at rest; and Solomon[65] was sent to the emperor in order to announce what had been accomplished. XXV But Gelimer, upon reaching the plain of Boulla, which is distant from Carthage a journey of four days for an unencumbered traveller, not far from the boundaries of Numidia, began to gather there all the Vandals and as many of the Moors as happened to be friendly to him. Few Moors, however, joined his alliance, and these were altogether insubordinate. For all those who ruled over the Moors in Mauretania and Numidia and Byzacium sent envoys to Belisarius saying that they were slaves of the emperor and promised to fight with him. There were some also who even furnished their children as hostages and requested that the symbols of office be sent them from him according to the ancient custom. For it was a law among the Moors that no one should be a ruler over them, even if he was hostile to the Romans, until the emperor of the Romans should give him the tokens of the office. And though they had already received them from the Vandals, they did not consider that the Vandals held the office securely. Now these symbols are a staff of silver covered with gold, and a silver cap,--not covering the whole head, but like a crown and held in place on all sides by bands of silver,--a kind of white cloak gathered by a golden brooch on the right shoulder in the form of a Thessalian cape, and a white tunic with embroidery, and a gilded boot. And Belisarius sent these things to them, and presented each one of them with much money. However, they did not come to fight along with him, nor, on the other hand, did they dare give their support to the Vandals, but standing out of the way of both contestants, they waited to see what would be the outcome of the war. Thus, then, matters stood with the Romans. But Gelimer sent one of the Vandals to Sardinia with a letter to his brother Tzazon. And he went quickly to the coast, and finding by chance a merchant-ship putting out to sea, he sailed into the harbour of Caranalis and put the letter into the hands of Tzazon. Now the message of the letter was as follows: "It was not, I venture to think, Godas who caused the island to revolt from us, but some curse of madness sent from Heaven which fell upon the Vandals. For by depriving us of you and the notables of the Vandals, it has seized and carried off from the house of Gizeric absolutely all the blessings which we enjoyed. For it was not to recover the island for us that you sailed from here, but in order that Justinian might be master of Libya. For that which Fortune had decided upon previously it is now possible to know from the outcome. Belisarius, then, has come against us with a small army, but valour straightway departed and fled from the Vandals, taking good fortune with her. For Ammatas and Gibamundus have fallen, because the Vandals lost their courage, and the horses and shipyards and all Libya and, not least of all, Carthage itself, are held already by the enemy. And the Vandals are sitting here, having paid with their children and wives and all their possessions for their failure to play the part of brave men in battle, and to us is left only the plain of Boulla, where our hope in you has set us down and still keeps us. But do you have done with such matters as rebel tyrants and Sardinia and the cares concerning these things, and come to us with your whole force as quickly as possible. For when men find the very heart and centre of all in danger, it is not advisable for them to consider minutely other matters. And struggling hereafter in common against the enemy, we shall either recover our previous fortune, or gain the advantage of not bearing apart from each other the hard fate sent by Heaven." When this letter had been brought to Tzazon, and he had disclosed its contents to the Vandals, they turned to wailing and lamentation, not openly, however, but concealing their feelings as much as possible and avoiding the notice of the islanders, silently among themselves they bewailed the fate which was upon them. And straightway setting in order matters in hand just as chance directed, they manned the ships. And sailing from there with the whole fleet, on the third day they came to land at the point of Libya which marks the boundary between the Numidians and Mauretanians. And they reached the plain of Boulla travelling on foot, and there joined with the rest of the army. And in that place there were many most pitiable scenes among the Vandals, which I, at least, could never relate as they deserve. For I think that even if one of the enemy themselves had happened to be a spectator at that time, he would probably have felt pity, in spite of himself, for the Vandals and for human fortune. For Gelimer and Tzazon threw their arms about each other's necks, and could not let go, but they spoke not a word to each other, but kept wringing their hands and weeping, and each one of the Vandals with Gelimer embraced one of those who had come from Sardinia, and did the same thing. And they stood for a long time as if grown together and found such comfort as they could in this, and neither did the men of Gelimer think fit to ask about Godas (for their present fortune had prostrated them and caused them to reckon such things as had previously seemed to them most important with those which were now utterly negligible), nor could those who came from Sardinia bring themselves to ask about what had happened in Libya. For the place was sufficient to permit them to judge of what had come to pass. And indeed they did not make any mention even of their own wives and children, knowing well that whoever of theirs was not there had either died or fallen into the hands of the enemy. Thus, then, did these things happen. FOOTNOTES: [1] Cadiz. [2] Sea of Azov. [3] Abila. [4] Or Septem Fratres. [5] Most ancient geographers divided the inhabited world into three continents, but some made two divisions. It was a debated question with these latter whether Africa belonged to Asia or to Europe; of. Sallust, _Jugurtha_, 17. [6] Kadi Keui. [7] More correctly Hydrous, Lat. Hydruntum (Otranto). [8] At Aulon (Avlona). [9] Adding these four days to the other items (285, 22, 40), the total is 351 days. [10] Calpe (Gibraltar). [11] _i.e._, instead of stopping at Otranto, one might also reckon in the coast-line around the Adriatic to Dyrrachium. [12] About twenty-four English miles. [13] Iviza. [14] "Black-cloaks." [15] Belgrade. [16] Mitrovitz. [17] In Illyricum. [18] He ascended the throne at the age of seven. [19] That is, the actual occupant could enter a demurrer to the former owner's action for recovery, citing his own occupancy for thirty years or more. The new law extended the period during which the ousted proprietor could recover possession, by admitting no demurrer from the occupant so far as the years were concerned during which the Vandals should be in possession of the country. [20] This is an error; he really ruled only eighteen months. [21] Geiseric, Gaiseric, less properly Genseric. [22] Now corrupted to Bona. [23] Emperor in Gaul, Britain and Spain 383-388. Aspiring to be Emperor of the West, he invaded Italy, was defeated by Theodosius, and put to death. [24] This is an error, for Attila died before Aetius. [25] Including the famous treasure which Titus had brought from Jerusalem, cf. IV. ix. 5. [26] Domitian had spent 12,000 talents (£2,400,000) on the gilding alone; Plutarch, _Publ._ 15. [27] _i.e._ "leaders of a thousand." [28] 130,000 Roman pounds; cf. Book I. xxii. 4. The modern equivalent is unknown. [29] Placidia's sister, Eudocia, was wife of Honoric, Gizeric's son. [30] See chap. iv. 27. [31] _i.e._ "wisdom." [32] Jebel Auress. [33] _i.e._ to what sect or religion they belonged. [34] Cf. Book IV. xi. 17 ff. [35] Book I. xxii. 16. [36] The "imperial" taxes were for the emperor's privy purse, the fiscus. [37] These foederati were private bands of troops under the leadership of condottiere; these had the title of "count" and received from the state an allowance for the support of their bands. [38] The medimnus equalled about one and a half bushels. [39] _i.e._ "runners." [40] Eregli, on the Sea of Marmora. [41] Cape Matapan. [42] Book I. xxiv. 12-15; xxv. 8-10. [43] The ration of this twice-baked bread represented for the same weight one-fourth more wheat than when issued in the once-baked bread. He was evidently paid on the basis of so much per ration, in weight, of the once-baked bread, but on account of the length of the voyage the other kind was requisitioned. [44] Instead of by weight. [45] Now Porto Lombardo. [46] Or Athalaric. [47] Now Gozzo and Malta. [48] Cf. III. v. 8 ff. [49] _i.e._ couriers, from _veredus_, "post-horse." [50] An adjutant, the general's own "choice." [51] Topsails. [52] _i.e._ _Decimum miliarium_, tenth milestone from Carthage. [53] Before 533 A.D. [54] Hermaeum, Lat. Mercurii promontorium (Cape Bon). [55] "Auxiliaries"; see chap. xi. 3, 4. [56] The troops were billeted as at a peaceful occupation. [57] St. Cyprian (_circa_ 200-257 A.D.), Bishop of Carthage. [58] Chap. xx. 13. [59] Compare the remarks of Gibbon, iv. p. 295. [60] In _Arcana_, 18, 5 ff., Procopius estimates the number of the Vandals in Africa, at the time of Belisarius, at 80,000 males, and intimates that practically all perished. [61] Chap. xi. 23. [62] Cagliari. [63] On this Theudis and his accession to the throne of the Visigoths in Spain see V. xii. 50 ff. [64] The leader of a band of _foederati_. Cf. III. xi. 1, 6, xxiv. 19. [65] Also a _dux foederatorum_, and _domesticus_ of Belisarius. Cf. III. xi. 5 ff. * * * * * HISTORY OF THE WARS: * * * * * BOOK IV THE VANDALIC WAR (_Continued_) I Gelimer, seeing all the Vandals gathered together, led his army against Carthage. And when they came close to it, they tore down a portion of the aqueduct,--a structure well worth seeing--which conducted water into the city, and after encamping for a time they withdrew, since no one of the enemy came out against them. And going about the country there they kept the roads under guard and thought that in this way they were besieging Carthage; however, they did not gather any booty, nor plunder the land, but took possession of it as their own. And at the same time they kept hoping that there would be some treason on the part of the Carthaginians themselves and such of the Roman soldiers as followed the doctrine of Arius. They also sent to the leaders of the Huns, and promising that they would have many good things from the Vandals, entreated them to become their friends and allies. Now the Huns even before this had not been well-disposed toward the cause of the Romans, since they had not indeed come to them willingly as allies (for they asserted that the Roman general Peter had given an oath and then, disregarding what had been sworn, had thus brought them to Byzantium), and accordingly they received the words of the Vandals, and promised that when they should come to real fighting they would turn with them against the Roman army. But Belisarius had a suspicion of all this (for he had heard it from the deserters), and also the circuit-wall had not as yet been completed entirely, and for these reasons he did not think it possible for his men to go out against the enemy for the present, but he was making his preparations within as well as possible. And one of the Carthaginians, Laurus by name, having been condemned on a charge of treason and proved guilty by his own secretary, was impaled by Belisarius on a hill before the city, and as a result of this the others came to feel a sort of irresistible fear and refrained from attempts at treason. And he courted the Massagetae with gifts and banquets and every other manner of flattering attention every day, and thus persuaded them to disclose to him what Gelimer had promised them on condition of their turning traitors in the battle. And these barbarians said that they had no enthusiasm for fighting, for they feared that, if the Vandals were vanquished, the Romans would not send them back to their native land, but they would be compelled to grow old and die right there in Libya; and besides they were also concerned, they said, about the booty, lest they be robbed of it. Then indeed Belisarius gave them pledges that, if the Vandals should be conquered decisively, they would be sent without the least delay to their homes with all their booty, and thus he bound them by oaths in very truth to assist the Romans with all zeal in carrying through the war. And when all things had been prepared by him in the best way possible, and the circuit-wall had been already completed, he called together the whole army and spoke as follows: "As for exhortation, fellow Romans, I do not know that it is necessary to make any to you,--men who have recently conquered the enemy so completely that Carthage here and the whole of Libya is a possession of your valour, and for this reason you will have no need of admonition that prompts to daring. For the spirits of those who have conquered are by no means wont to be overcome. But I think it not untimely to remind you of this one thing, that, if you on the present occasion but prove equal to your own selves in valour, straightway there will be an end for the Vandals of their hopes, and for you of the battle. Hence there is every reason why you should enter into this engagement with the greatest eagerness. For ever sweet to men is toil coming to an end and reaching its close. Now as for the host of the Vandals, let no one of you consider them. For not by numbers of men nor by measure of body, but by valour of soul, is war wont to be decided. And let the strongest motive which actuates men come to your minds, namely, pride in past achievement. For it is a shame, for those at least who have reason, to fall short of one's own self and to be found inferior to one's own standard of valour. For I know well that terror and the memory of misfortunes have laid hold upon the enemy and compel them to become less brave, for the one fills them with fear because of what has already happened, and the other brushes aside their hope of success. For Fortune, once seen to be bad, straightway enslaves the spirit of those who have fallen in her way. And I shall explain how the struggle involves for you at the present time a greater stake than formerly. For in the former battle the danger was, if things did not go well for us, that we should not take the land of others; but now, if we do not win the struggle, we shall lose the land which is our own. In proportion, then, as it is easier to possess nothing than to be deprived of what one has, just so now our fear touches our most vital concerns more than before. And yet formerly we had the fortune to win the victory with the infantry absent, but now, entering the battle with God propitious and with our whole army, I have hopes of capturing the camp of the enemy, men and all. Thus, then, having the end of the war ready at hand, do not by reason of any negligence put it off to another time, lest you be compelled to seek for the opportune moment after it has run past us. For when the fortune of war is postponed, its nature is not to proceed in the same manner as before, especially if the war be prolonged by the will of those who are carrying it on. For Heaven is accustomed to bring retribution always upon those who abandon the good fortune which is present. But if anyone considers that the enemy, seeing their children and wives and most precious possessions in our hands, will be daring beyond reason and will incur risks beyond the strength which they have, he does not think rightly. For an overpowering passion springing up in the heart in behalf of what is most precious is wont to diminish men's actual strength and does not allow them to make full use of their present opportunities. Considering, then, all these things, it behooves you to go with great contempt against the enemy." II After such words of exhortation, Belisarius sent out all the horsemen on the same day, except five hundred, and also the guardsmen and the standard, which the Romans call "bandum,"[1] entrusting them to John the Armenian, and directing him to skirmish only, if opportunity should arise. And he himself on the following day followed with the infantry forces and the five hundred horsemen. And the Massagetae, deliberating among themselves, decided, in order to seem in friendly agreement with both Gelimer and Belisarius, neither to begin fighting for the Romans nor to go over to the Vandals before the encounter, but whenever the situation of one or the other army should be bad, then to join the victors in their pursuit of the vanquished. Thus, then, had this matter been decided upon by the barbarians. And the Roman army came upon the Vandals encamped in Tricamarum, one hundred and fifty stades distant from Carthage. So they both bivouacked there at a considerable distance from one another. And when it was well on in the night, a prodigy came to pass in the Roman camp as follows. The tips of their spears were lighted with a bright fire and the points of them seemed to be burning most vigorously. This was not seen by many, but it filled with consternation the few who did see it, not knowing how it would come out. And this happened to the Romans in Italy again at a much later time. And at that time, since they knew by experience, they believed it to be a sign of victory. But now, as I have said, since this was the first time it had happened, they were filled with consternation and passed the night in great fear. And on the following day Gelimer commanded the Vandals to place the women and children and all their possessions in the middle of the stockade, although it had not the character of a fort, and calling all together, he spoke as follows: "It is not to gain glory, or to retrieve the loss of empire alone, O fellow Vandals, that we are about to fight, so that even if we wilfully played the coward and sacrificed these our belongings we might possibly live, sitting at home and keeping our own possessions; but you see, surely, that our fortunes have come round to such a pass that, if we do not gain the mastery over the enemy, we shall, if we perish, leave them as masters of these our children and our wives and our land and all our possessions, while if we survive, there will be added our own enslavement and to behold all these enslaved; but if, indeed, we overcome our foes in the war, we shall, if we live, pass our lives among all good things, or, after the glorious ending of our lives, there will be left to our wives and children the blessings of prosperity, while the name of the Vandals will survive and their empire be preserved. For if it has ever happened to any men to be engaged in a struggle for their all, we now more than all others realize that we are entering the battle-line with our hopes for all we have resting wholly upon ourselves. Not for our bodies, then, is our fear, nor in death is our danger, but in being defeated by the enemy. For if we lose the victory, death will be to our advantage. Since, therefore, the case stands so, let no one of the Vandals weaken, but let him proudly expose his body, and from shame at the evils that follow defeat let him court the end of life. For when a man is ashamed of that which is shameful, there is always present with him a dauntless courage in the face of danger. And let no recollection of the earlier battle come into your minds. For it was not by cowardice on our part that we were defeated, but we tripped upon obstacles interposed by fortune and were overthrown. Now it is not the way of the tide of fortune to flow always in the same direction, but every day, as a rule, it is wont to change about. In manliness it is our boast that we surpass the enemy, and that in numbers we are much superior; for we believe that we surpass them no less than tenfold. And why shall I add that many and great are the incentives which, now especially, urge us on to valour, naming the glory of our ancestors and the empire which has been handed down to us by them? For in our case that glory is obscured by our unlikeness to our kindred, while the empire is bent upon fleeing from us as unworthy. And I pass over in silence the wails of these poor women and the tears of our children, by which, as you see, I am now so deeply moved that I am unable to prolong my discourse. But having said this one thing, I shall stop,--that there will be for us no returning to these most precious possessions if we do not gain the mastery over the enemy. Remembering these things, shew yourselves brave men and do not bring shame upon the fame of Gizeric." After speaking such words, Gelimer commanded his brother Tzazon to deliver an exhortation separately to the Vandals who had come with him from Sardinia. And he gathered them together a little apart from the camp and spoke as follows: "For all the Vandals, fellow soldiers, the struggle is in behalf of those things which you have just heard the king recount, but for you, in addition to all the other considerations, it so happens that you are vying with yourselves. For you have recently been victorious in a struggle for the maintenance of our rule, and you have recovered the island for the empire of the Vandals; there is every reason, therefore, for you to make still greater display of your valour. For those whose hazard involves the greatest things must needs display the greatest zeal for warfare also. Indeed, when men who struggle for the maintenance of their rule are defeated, should it so happen, they have not failed in the most vital part; but when men are engaged in battle for their all, surely their very lives are influenced by the outcome of the struggle. And for the rest, if you shew yourselves brave men at the present time, you will thereby prove with certainty that the destruction[2] of the tyrant Godas was an achievement of valour on your part; but if you weaken now, you will be deprived of even the renown of those deeds, as of something which does not belong to you at all. And yet, even apart from this, it is reasonable to think that you will have an advantage over the rest of the Vandals in this battle. For those who have failed are dismayed by their previous fortune, while those who have encountered no reverse enter the struggle with their courage unimpaired. And this too, I think, will not be spoken out of season, that if we conquer the enemy, it will be you who will win the credit for the greatest part of the victory, and all will call you saviours of the nation of the Vandals. For men who achieve renown in company with those who have previously met with misfortune naturally claim the better fortune as their own. Considering all these things, therefore, I say that you should bid the women and children who are lamenting their fate to take courage even now, should summon God to fight with us, should go with enthusiasm against the enemy, and lead the way for our compatriots into this battle." III After both Gelimer and Tzazon had spoken such exhortations, they led out the Vandals, and at about the time of lunch, when the Romans were not expecting them, but were preparing their meal, they were at hand and arrayed themselves for battle along the bank of the stream. Now the stream at that place is an ever-flowing one, to be sure, but its volume is so small that it is not even given a special name by the inhabitants of the place, but it is designated simply as a brook. So the Romans came to the other bank of this river, after preparing themselves as well as they could under the circumstances, and arrayed themselves as follows. The left wing was held by Martinus and Valerian, John, Cyprian, Althias, and Marcellus, and as many others as were commanders of the foederati[3]; and the right was held by Pappas, Barbatus, and Aïgan, and the others who commanded the forces of cavalry. And in the centre John took his position, leading the guards and spearmen of Belisarius and carrying the general's standard. And Belisarius also came there at the opportune moment with his five hundred horsemen, leaving the infantry behind advancing at a walk. For all the Huns had been arrayed in another place, it being customary for them even before this not to mingle with the Roman army if they could avoid so doing, and at that time especially, since they had in mind the purpose which has previously been explained,[4] it was not their wish to be arrayed with the rest of the army. Such, then, was the formation of the Romans. And on the side of the Vandals, either wing was held by the chiliarchs, and each one led the division under him, while in the centre was Tzazon, the brother of Gelimer, and behind him were arrayed the Moors. But Gelimer himself was going about everywhere exhorting them and urging them on to daring. And the command had been previously given to all the Vandals to use neither spear nor any other weapon in this engagement except their swords. After a considerable time had passed and no one began the battle, John chose out a few of those under him by the advice of Belisarius and crossing the river made an attack on the centre, where Tzazon crowded them back and gave chase. And the Romans in flight came into their own camp, while the Vandals in pursuit came as far as the stream, but did not cross it. And once more John, leading out more of the guardsmen of Belisarius, made a dash against the forces of Tzazon, and again being repulsed from there, withdrew to the Roman camp. And a third time with almost all the guards and spearmen of Belisarius he took the general's standard and made his attack with much shouting and a great noise. But since the barbarians manfully withstood them and used only their swords, the battle became fierce, and many of the noblest of the Vandals fell, and among them Tzazon himself, the brother of Gelimer. Then at last the whole Roman army was set in motion, and crossing the river they advanced upon the enemy, and the rout, beginning at the centre, became complete; for each of the Roman divisions turned to flight those before them with no trouble. And the Massagetae, seeing this, according to their agreement among themselves[5] joined the Roman army in making the pursuit, but this pursuit was not continued for a great distance. For the Vandals entered their own camp quickly and remained quiet, while the Romans, thinking that they would not be able to fight it out with them inside the stockade, stripped such of the corpses as had gold upon them and retired to their own camp. And there perished in this battle, of the Romans less than fifty, but of the Vandals about eight hundred. But Belisarius, when the infantry came up in the late afternoon, moved as quickly as he could with the whole army and went against the camp of the Vandals. And Gelimer, realising that Belisarius with his infantry and the rest of his army was coming against him straightway, without saying a word or giving a command leaped upon his horse and was off in flight on the road leading to Numidia. And his kinsmen and some few of his domestics followed him in utter consternation and guarding with silence what was taking place. And for some time it escaped the notice of the Vandals that Gelimer had run away, but when they all perceived that he had fled, and the enemy were already plainly seen, then indeed the men began to shout and the children cried out and the women wailed. And they neither took with them the money they had nor did they heed the laments of those dearest to them, but every man fled in complete disorder just as he could. And the Romans, coming up, captured the camp, money and all, with not a man in it; and they pursued the fugitives throughout the whole night, killing all the men upon whom they happened, and making slaves of the women and children. And they found in this camp a quantity of wealth such as has never before been found, at least in one place. For the Vandals had plundered the Roman domain for a long time and had transferred great amounts of money to Libya, and since their land was an especially good one, nourishing abundantly with the most useful crops, it came about that the revenue collected from the commodities produced there was not paid out to any other country in the purchase of a food supply, but those who possessed the land always kept for themselves the income from it for the ninety-five years during which the Vandals ruled Libya. And from this it resulted that their wealth, amounting to an extraordinary sum, returned once more on that day into the hands of the Romans. So this battle and the pursuit and the capture of the Vandals' camp happened three months after the Roman army came to Carthage, at about the middle of the last month, which the Romans call "December." [533 A.D.] IV Then Belisarius, seeing the Roman army rushing about in confusion and great disorder, was disturbed, being fearful throughout the whole night lest the enemy, uniting by mutual agreement against him, should do him irreparable harm. And if this thing had happened at that time in any way at all, I believe that, not one of the Romans would have escaped and enjoyed this booty. For the soldiers, being extremely poor men, upon becoming all of a sudden masters of very great wealth and of women both young and extremely comely, were no longer able to restrain their minds or to find any satiety in the things they had, but were so intoxicated, drenched as they were by their present good fortunes, that each one wished to take everything with him back to Carthage. And they were going about, not in companies but alone or by twos, wherever hope led them, searching out everything roundabout among the valleys and the rough country and wherever there chanced to be a cave or anything such as might bring them into danger or ambush. For neither did fear of the enemy nor their respect for Belisarius occur to them, nor indeed anything else at all except the desire for spoils, and being overmastered by this they came to think lightly of everything else. And Belisarius, taking note of all this, was at a loss as to how he should handle the situation. But at daybreak he took his stand upon a certain hill near the road, appealing to the discipline which no longer existed and heaping reproaches upon all, soldiers and officers alike. Then indeed, those who chanced to be near, and especially those who were of the household of Belisarius, sent the money and slaves which they had to Carthage with their tentmates and messmates, and themselves came up beside the general and gave heed to the orders given them. And he commanded John, the Armenian, with two hundred men to follow Gelimer, and without slackening their speed either night or day to pursue him, until they should take him living or dead. And he sent word to his associates in Carthage to lead into the city all the Vandals who were sitting as suppliants in sanctuaries in the places about the city, giving them pledges and taking away their weapons, that they might not begin an uprising, and to keep them there until he himself should come. And with those who were left he went about everywhere and gathered the soldiers hastily, and to all the Vandals he came upon he gave pledges for their safety. For it was no longer possible to catch anyone of the Vandals except as a suppliant in the sanctuaries. And from these he took away their weapons and sent them, with soldiers to guard them, to Carthage, not giving them time to unite against the Romans. And when everything was as well settled as possible, he himself with the greater part of the army moved against Gelimer with all speed. But John, after continuing the pursuit five days and nights, had already come not far from Gelimer, and in fact he was about to engage with him on the following day. But since it was not fated that Gelimer should be captured by John, the following obstacle was contrived by fortune. Among those pursuing with John it happened that there was Uliaris, the aide of Belisarius. Now this man was a passionate fellow and well favoured in strength of heart and body, but not a very serious man, but one who generally took delight in wine and buffoonery. This Uliaris on the sixth day of the pursuit, being drunk, saw a bird sitting in a tree at about sunrise, and he quickly stretched his bow and despatched a missile at the bird. And he missed the bird, but John, who was behind it, he hit in the neck by no will of his own. And since the wound was mortal, John passed away a short time afterwards, leaving great sorrow at his loss to the Emperor Justinian and Belisarius, the general, and to all the Romans and Carthaginians. For in manliness and every sort of virtue he was well endowed, and he shewed himself, to those who associated with him, gentle and equitable to a degree quite unsurpassed. Thus, then, John fulfilled his destiny. As for Uliaris, when he came to himself, he fled to a certain village which was near by and sat as a suppliant in the sanctuary there. And the soldiers no longer pressed the pursuit of Gelimer, but they cared for John as long as he survived, and when he had died they carried out all the customary rites in his burial, and reporting the whole matter to Belisarius they remained where they were. And as soon as he heard of it, he came to John's burial, and bewailed his fate. And after weeping over him and grieving bitterly at the whole occurrence, he honoured the tomb of John with many gifts and especially by providing for it a regular income. However, he did nothing severe to Uliaris, since the soldiers said that John had enjoined upon them by the most dread oaths that no vengeance should come to him, since he had not performed the unholy deed with deliberate intent. Thus, then, Gelimer escaped falling into the hands of the enemy on that day. And from that time on Belisarius pursued him, but upon reaching a strong city of Numidia situated on the sea, ten days distant from Carthage, which they call Hippo Regius,[6] he learned that Gelimer had ascended the mountain Papua and could no longer be captured by the Romans. Now this mountain is situated at the extremity of Numidia and is exceedingly precipitous and climbed only with the greatest difficulty (for lofty cliffs rise up toward it from every side), and on it dwell barbarian Moors, who were friends and allies to Gelimer, and an ancient city named Medeus lies on the outskirts of the mountain. There Gelimer rested with his followers. But as for Belisarius, he was not able to make any attempt at all on the mountain, much less in the winter season, and since his affairs were still in an uncertain state, he did not think it advisable to be away from Carthage; and so he chose out soldiers, with Pharas as their leader, and set them to maintain the siege of the mountain. Now this Pharas was energetic and thoroughly serious and upright in every way, although he was an Erulian by birth. And for an Erulian not to give himself over to treachery and drunkenness, but to strive after uprightness, is no easy matter and merits abundant praise.[7] But not only was it Pharas who maintained orderly conduct, but also all the Erulians who followed him. This Pharas, then, Belisarius commanded to establish himself at the foot of the mountain during the winter season and to keep close guard, so that it would neither be possible for Gelimer to leave the mountain nor for any supplies to be brought in to him. And Pharas acted accordingly. Then Belisarius turned to the Vandals who were sitting as suppliants in the sanctuaries in Hippo Regius,--and there were many of them and of the nobility--and he caused them all to accept pledges and arise, and then he sent them to Carthage with a guard. And there it came about that the following event happened to him. In the house of Gelimer there was a certain scribe named Boniface, a Libyan, and a native of Byzacium, a man exceedingly faithful to Gelimer. At the beginning of this war Gelimer had put this Boniface on a very swift-sailing ship, and placing all the royal treasure in it commanded him to anchor in the harbour of Hippo Regius, and if he should see that the situation was not favourable to their side, he was to sail with all speed to Spain with the money, and go to Theudis, the leader of the Visigoths, where he was expecting to find safety for himself also, should the fortune of war prove adverse for the Vandals. So Boniface, as long as he felt hope for the cause of the Vandals, remained there; but as soon as the battle in Tricamarum took place, with all the other events which have been related, he spread his canvas and sailed away just as Gelimer had directed him. But an opposing wind brought him back, much against his will, into the harbour of Hippo Regius. And since he had already heard that the enemy were somewhere near, he entreated the sailors with many promises to row with all their might for some other continent or for an island. But they were unable to do so, since a very severe storm had fallen upon them and the waves of the sea were rising to a great height, seeing that it was the Tuscan sea,[8] and then it occurred to them and to Boniface that, after all, God wished to give the money to the Romans and so was not allowing the ship to put out. However, though they had got outside the harbour, they encountered great danger in bringing their ship back to anchorage. And when Belisarius arrived at Hippo Regius, Boniface sent some men to him. These he commanded to sit in a sanctuary, and they were to say that they had been sent by Boniface, who had the money of Gelimer, but to conceal the place where he was, until they should receive the pledges of Belisarius that upon giving Gelimer's money he himself should escape free from harm, having all that was his own. These men, then, acted according to these instructions, and Belisarius was pleased at the good news and did not decline to take an oath. And sending some of his associates he took the treasure of Gelimer and released Boniface in possession of his own money and also with an enormous sum which he plundered from Gelimer's treasure. V And when he returned to Carthage, he put all the Vandals in readiness, so that at the opening of spring he might send them to Byzantium; and he sent out an army to recover for the Romans everything which the Vandals ruled. And first he sent Cyril to Sardinia with a great force, having the head of Tzazon, since these islanders were not at all willing to yield to the Romans, fearing the Vandals and thinking that what had been told them as having happened in Tricamarum could not be true. And he ordered this Cyril to send a portion of the army to Corsica, and to recover for the Roman empire the island, which had been previously subject to the Vandals; this island was called Cyrnus in early times, and is not far from Sardinia. So he came to Sardinia and displayed the head of Tzazon to the inhabitants of the place, and he won back both the islands and made them tributary to the Roman domain. And to Caesarea[9] in Mauretania Belisarius sent John with an infantry company which he usually commanded himself; this place is distant from Carthage a journey of thirty days for an unencumbered traveller, as one goes towards Gadira and the west; and it is situated upon the sea, having been a great and populous city from ancient times. Another John, one of his own guardsmen, he sent to Gadira on the strait and by one of the Pillars of Heracles, to take possession of the fort there which they call "Septem."[10] And to the islands which are near the strait where the ocean flows in, called Ebusa and Majorica and Minorica[11] by the natives, he sent Apollinarius, who was a native of Italy, but had come while still a lad to Libya. And he had been rewarded with great sums of money by Ilderic, who was then leader of the Vandals, and after Ilderic had been removed from the office and was in confinement, as has been told in the previous narrative,[12] he came to the Emperor Justinian with the other Libyans who were working in the interest of Ilderic, in order to entreat his favour as a suppliant. And he joined the Roman expedition against Gelimer and the Vandals, and proved himself a brave man in this war and most of all at Tricamarum. And as a result of his deeds there Belisarius entrusted to him these islands. And later Belisarius sent an army also into Tripolis to Pudentius and Tattimuth,[13] who were being pressed by the Moors there, and thus strengthened the Roman power in that quarter. He also sent some men to Sicily in order to take the fortress in Lilybaeum, as belonging to the Vandals' kingdom,[14] but he was repulsed from there, since the Goths by no means saw fit to yield any part of Sicily, on the ground that this fortress did not belong to the Vandals at all. And when Belisarius heard this, he wrote to the commanders who were there as follows: "You are depriving us of Lilybaeum, the fortress of the Vandals who are the slaves of the emperor, and are not acting justly nor in a way to benefit yourselves, and you wish to bring upon your ruler, though he does not so will it and is far distant from the scene of these actions, the hostility of the great emperor, whose good-will he has, having won it with great labour. And yet how could you but seem to be acting contrary to the ways of men, it you recently allowed Gelimer to hold the fortress, but have decided to wrest from the emperor, Gelimer's master, the possessions of the slave? You, at least, should not act thus, most excellent sirs. But reflect that, while it is the nature of friendship to cover over many faults, hostility does not brook even the smallest misdeeds, but searches the past for every offence, and allows not its enemy to grow rich on what does not in the least belong to them.[15] Moreover, the enemy fights to avenge the wrongs which it says have been done to its ancestors; and whereas, if friendship thus turned to hostility fails in the struggle, it suffers no loss of its own possessions, yet if it succeeds, it teaches the vanquished to take a new view of the indulgence which has been shewn them in the past. See to it, then, that you neither do us further harm nor suffer harm yourselves, and do not make the great emperor an enemy to the Gothic nation, when it is your prayer that he be propitious toward you. For be well assured that, if you lay claim to this fortress, war will confront you immediately, and not for Lilybaeum alone, but for all the possessions you claim as yours, though not one of them belongs to you." Such was the message of the letter. And the Goths reported these things to the mother[16] of Antalaric, and at her direction made the following reply: "The letter which you have written, most excellent Belisarius, carries sound admonition, but pertinent to some other men, not to us the Goths. For there is nothing of the Emperor Justinian's which we have taken and hold; may we never be so mad as to do such a thing! The whole of Sicily we claim because it is our own, and the fortress of Lilybaeum is one of its promontories. And if Theoderic gave his sister, who was the consort of the king of the Vandals, one of the trading-ports of Sicily for her use, this is nothing. For this fact could not afford a basis for any claim on your part. But you, O General, would be acting justly toward us, if you should be willing to make the settlement of the matters in dispute between us, not as an enemy, but as a friend. And there is this difference, that friends are accustomed to settle their disagreements by arbitration, but enemies by battle. We, therefore, shall commit this matter to the Emperor Justinian, to arbitrate[17] in whatever manner seems to him lawful and just. And we desire that the decisions you make shall be as wise as possible, rather than as hasty as possible, and that you, therefore, await the decision of your emperor." Such was the message of the letter of the Goths. And Belisarius, reporting all to the emperor, remained quiet until the emperor should send him word what his wish was. VI But Pharas, having by this time become weary of the siege for many reasons, and especially because of the winter season, and at the same time thinking that the Moors there would not be able to stand in his way, undertook the ascent of Papua with great zeal. Accordingly he armed all his followers very carefully and began the ascent. But the Moors rushed to the defence, and since they were on ground which was steep and very hard to traverse, their efforts to hinder those making the ascent were easily accomplished. But Pharas fought hard to force the ascent, and one hundred and ten of his men perished in this struggle, and he himself with the remainder was beaten back and retired; and as a result of this he did not dare to attempt the ascent again, since the situation was against him, but he established as careful a guard as possible, in order that those on Papua, being pressed by hunger, might surrender themselves; and he neither permitted them to run away nor anything to be brought in to them from outside. Then, indeed, it came about that Gelimer and those about him, who were nephews and cousins of his and other persons of high birth, experienced a misery which no one could describe, however eloquent he might be, in a way which would equal the facts. For of all the nations which we know that of the Vandals is the most luxurious, and that of the Moors the most hardy. For the Vandals, since the time when they gained possession of Libya, used to indulge in baths, all of them, every day, and enjoyed a table abounding in all things, the sweetest and best that the earth and sea produce. And they wore gold very generally, and clothed themselves in the Medic garments, which now they call "seric,"[18] and passed their time, thus dressed, in theatres and hippodromes and in other pleasureable pursuits, and above all else in hunting. And they had dancers and mimes and all other things to hear and see which are of a musical nature or otherwise merit attention among men. And the most of them dwelt in parks, which were well supplied with water and trees; and they had great numbers of banquets, and all manner of sexual pleasures were in great vogue among them. But the Moors live in stuffy huts[19] both in winter and in summer and at every other time, never removing from them either because of snow or the heat of the sun or any other discomfort whatever due to nature. And they sleep on the ground, the prosperous among them, if it should so happen, spreading a fleece under themselves. Moreover, it is not customary among them to change their clothing with the seasons, but they wear a thick cloak and a rough shirt at all times. And they have neither bread nor wine nor any other good thing, but they take grain, either wheat or barley, and, without boiling it or grinding it to flour or barley-meal, they eat it in a manner not a whit different from that of animals. Since the Moors, then, were of a such a sort, the followers of Gelimer, after living with them for a long time and changing their accustomed manner of life to such a miserable existence, when at last even the necessities of life had failed, held out no longer, but death was thought by them most sweet and slavery by no means disgraceful. Now when this was learned by Pharas, he wrote to Gelimer as follows: "I too am a barbarian and not accustomed to writing and speaking, nor am I skilful in these matters. But that which I am forced as a man to know, having learned from the nature of things, this I am writing you. What in the world has happened to you, my dear Gelimer, that you have cast, not yourself alone, but your whole family besides, into this pit? Is it, forsooth, that you may avoid becoming a slave? But this is assuredly nothing but youthful folly, and making of 'liberty' a mere shibboleth, as though liberty were worth possessing at the price of all this misery! And, after all, do you not consider that you are, even now, a slave to the most wretched of the Moors, since your only hope of being saved, if the best happens, is in them? And yet why would it not be better in every way to be a slave among the Romans and beggared, than to be monarch on Mount Papua with Moors as your subjects? But of course it seems to you the very height of disgrace even to be a fellow slave with Belisarius! Away with the thought, most excellent Gelimer. Are not we,[20] who also are born of noble families, proud that we are now in the service of an emperor? And indeed they say that it is the wish of the Emperor Justinian to have you enrolled in the senate, thus sharing in the highest honour and being a patrician, as we term that rank, and to present you with lands both spacious and good and with great sums of money, and that Belisarius is willing to make himself responsible for your having all these things, and to give you pledges. Now as for all the miseries which fortune has brought you, you are able to bear with fortitude whatever comes from her, knowing that you are but a man and that these things are inevitable; but if fortune has purposed to temper these adversities with some admixture of good, would you of yourself refuse to accept this gladly? Or should we consider that the good gifts of fortune are not just as inevitable as are her undesirable gifts? Yet such is not the opinion of even the utterly senseless; but you, it would seem, have now lost your good judgment, steeped as you are in misfortunes. Indeed, discouragement is wont to confound the mind and to be transformed to folly. If, however, you can bear your own thoughts and refrain from rebelling against fortune when she changes, it will be possible at this very moment for you to choose that which will be wholly to your advantage, and to escape from the evils which hang over you." When Gelimer had read this letter and wept bitterly over it, he wrote in reply as follows: "I am both deeply grateful to you for the advice which you have given me and I also think it unbearable to be a slave to an enemy who wrongs me, from whom I should pray God to exact justice, if He should be propitious to me,--an enemy who, though he had never experienced any harm from me either in deeds which he suffered or in words which he heard, provided a pretext for a war which was unprovoked, and reduced me to this state of misfortune, bringing Belisarius against me from I know not where. And yet it is not at all unlikely that he also, since he is but a man, though he be emperor too, may have something befall him which he would not choose. But as for me, I am not able to write further. For my present misfortune has robbed me of my thoughts. Farewell, then, dear Pharas, and send me a lyre and one loaf of bread and a sponge, I pray you." When this reply was read by Pharas, he was at a loss for some time, being unable to understand the final words of the letter, until he who had brought the letter explained that Gelimer desired one loaf because he was eager to enjoy the sight of it and to eat it, since from the time when he went up upon Papua he had not seen a single baked loaf. A sponge also was necessary for him; for one of his eyes, becoming irritated by lack of washing, was greatly swollen. And being a skilful harpist he had composed an ode relating to his present misfortune, which he was eager to chant to the accompaniment of a lyre while he wept out his soul. When Pharas heard this, he was deeply moved, and lamenting the fortune of men, he did as was written and sent all the things which Gelimer desired of him. However he relaxed the siege not a whit, but kept watch more closely than before. VII And already a space of three months had been spent in this siege and the winter was coming to an end. And Gelimer was afraid, suspecting that his besiegers would come up against him after no great time; and the bodies of most of the children who were related to him[21] were discharging worms in this time of misery. And though in everything he was deeply distressed, and looked upon everything,--except, indeed, death,--with dissatisfaction, he nevertheless endured the suffering beyond all expectation, until it happened that he beheld a sight such as the following. A certain Moorish woman had managed somehow to crush a little corn, and making of it a very tiny cake, threw it into the hot ashes on the hearth. For thus it is the custom among the Moors to bake their loaves. And beside this hearth two children were sitting, in exceedingly great distress by reason of their hunger, the one being the son of the very woman who had thrown in the cake, and the other a nephew of Gelimer; and they were eager to seize the cake as soon as it should seem to them to be cooked. And of the two children the Vandal got ahead of the other and snatched the cake first, and, though it was still exceedingly hot and covered with ashes, hunger overpowered him, and he threw it into his mouth and was eating it, when the other seized him by the hair of the head and struck him over the temple and beat him again and thus compelled him with great violence to cast out the cake which was already in his throat. This sad experience Gelimer could not endure (for he had followed all from the beginning), and his spirit was weakened and he wrote as quickly as possible to Pharas as follows: "If it has ever happened to any man, after manfully enduring terrible misfortunes, to take a course contrary to that which he had previously determined upon, consider me to be such a one, O most excellent Pharas. For there has come to my mind your advice, which I am far from wishing to disregard. For I cannot resist fortune further nor rebel against fate, but I shall follow straightway wherever it seems to her best to lead; but let me receive the pledges, that Belisarius guarantees that the emperor will do everything which you recently promised me. For I, indeed, as soon as you give the pledges, shall put both myself into your hands and these kinsmen of mine and the Vandals, as many as are here with us." Such were the words written by Gelimer in this letter. And Pharas, having signified this to Belisarius, as well as what they had previously written to each other, begged him to declare as quickly as possible what his wish was. And Belisarius (since he was greatly desirous of leading Gelimer alive to the emperor), as soon as he had read the letter, became overjoyed and commanded Cyprian, a leader of foederati,[22] to go to Papua with certain others, and directed them to give an oath concerning the safety of Gelimer and of those with him, and to swear that he would be honoured before the emperor and would lack nothing. And when these men had come to Pharas, they went with him to a certain place by the foot of the mountain, where Gelimer came at their summons, and after receiving the pledges just as he wished he came with them to Carthage. And it happened that Belisarius was staying for a time in the suburb of the city which they call Aclas. Accordingly Gelimer came before him in that place, laughing with such laughter as was neither moderate nor the kind one could conceal, and some of those who were looking at him suspected that by reason of the extremity of his affliction he had changed entirely from his natural state and that, already beside himself, he was laughing for no reason. But his friends would have it that the man was in his sound mind, and that because he had been born in a royal family, and had ascended the throne, and had been clothed with great power and immense wealth from childhood even to old age, and then being driven to flight and plunged into great fear had undergone the sufferings on Papua, and now had come as a captive, having in this way had experience of all the gifts of fortune, both good and evil, for this reason, they believed, he thought that man's lot was worthy of nothing else than much laughter. Now concerning this laughter of Gelimer's, let each one speak according to his judgment, both enemy and friend. But Belisarius, reporting to the emperor that Gelimer was a captive in Carthage, asked permission to bring him to Byzantium with him. At the same time he guarded both him and all the Vandals in no dishonour and proceeded to put the fleet in readiness. Now many other things too great to be hoped for have before now been experienced in the long course of time, and they will continue as long as the fortunes of men are the same as they now are; for those things which seem to reason impossible are actually accomplished, and many times those things which previously appeared impossible, when they have befallen, have seemed to be worthy of wonder; but whether such events as these ever took place before I am not able to say, wherein the fourth descendant of Gizeric, and his kingdom at the height of its wealth and military strength, were completely undone in so short a time by five thousand men coming in as invaders and having not a place to cast anchor. For such was the number of the horsemen who followed Belisarius, and carried through the whole war against the Vandals. For whether this happened by chance or because of some kind of valour, one would justly marvel at it. But I shall return to the point from which I have strayed. VIII So the Vandalic war ended thus. But envy, as is wont to happen in cases of great good fortune, was already swelling against Belisarius, although he provided no pretext for it. For some of the officers slandered him to the emperor, charging him, without any grounds whatever, with seeking to set up a kingdom for himself,[23] a statement for which there was no basis whatever. But the emperor did not disclose these things to the world, either because he paid no heed to the slander, or because this course seemed better to him. But he sent Solomon and gave Belisarius the opportunity to choose whichever of two things he desired, either to come to Byzantium with Gelimer and the Vandals, or to remain there and send them. And Belisarius, since it did not escape him that the officers were bringing against him the charge of seeking supreme power, was eager to get to Byzantium, in order that he might clear himself of the charge and be able to proceed against his slanderers. Now as to the manner in which he learned of the attempt of his accusers, I shall explain. When those who denounced him wished to present this slander, fearing lest the man who was to carry their letter to the emperor should be lost at sea and thus put a stop to their proceedings, they wrote the aforesaid accusation on two tablets, purposing to send two messengers to the emperor in two ships. And one of these two sailed away without being detected, but the second, on account of some suspicion or other, was captured in Mandracium, and putting the writing into the hands of his captors, he made known what was being done. So Belisarius, having learned in this way, was eager to come before the emperor, as has been said. Such, then, was the course of these events at Carthage. But the Moors who dwelt in Byzacium and in Numidia turned to revolt for no good reason, and they decided to break the treaty and to rise suddenly against the Romans. And this was not out of keeping with their peculiar character. For there is among the Moors neither fear of God nor respect for men. For they care not either for oaths or for hostages, even though the hostages chance to be the children or brothers of their leaders. Nor is peace maintained among the Moors by any other means than by fear of the enemies opposing them. Now I shall set forth in what manner the treaty was made by them with Belisarius and how it was broken. When it came to be expected that the emperor's expedition would arrive in Libya, the Moors, fearing lest they should receive some harm from it, consulted the oracles of their women. For it is not lawful in this nation for a man to utter oracles, but the women among them as a result of some sacred rites become possessed and foretell the future, no less than any of the ancient oracles. So on that occasion, when they made enquiry, as has been said, the women gave the response: "There shall be a host from the waters, the overthrow of the Vandals, destruction and defeat of the Moors, when the general of the Romans shall come unbearded." When the Moors heard this, since they saw that the emperor's army had come from the sea, they began to be in great fear and were quite unwilling to fight in alliance with the Vandals, but they sent to Belisarius and established peace, as has been stated previously,[24] and then remained quiet and waited for the future, to see how it would fall out. And when the power of the Vandals had now come to an end, they sent to the Roman army, investigating whether there was anyone unbearded among them holding an office. And when they saw all wearing full beards, they thought that the oracle did not indicate the present time to them, but one many generations later, interpreting the saying in that way which they themselves wished. Immediately, therefore, they were eager to break the treaty, but their fear of Belisarius prevented them. For they had no hope that they would ever overcome the Romans in war, at least with him present. But when they heard that he was making his departure together with his guards and spearmen, and that the ships were already being filled with them and the Vandals, they suddenly rose in arms and displayed every manner of outrage upon the Libyans. For the soldiers were both few in each place on the frontier and still unprepared, so that they would not have been able to stand against the barbarians as they made inroads at every point, nor to prevent their incursions, which took place frequently and not in an open manner. But men were being killed indiscriminately and women with their children were being made slaves, and the wealth was being plundered from every part of the frontier and the whole country was being filled with fugitives. These things were reported to Belisarius when he was just about setting sail. And since it was now too late for him to return himself, he entrusted Solomon with the administration of Libya and he also chose out the greatest part of his own guards and spearmen, instructing them to follow Solomon and as quickly as possible to punish with all zeal those of the Moors who had risen in revolt and to exact vengeance for the injury done the Romans. And the emperor sent another army also to Solomon with Theodoras, the Cappadocian, and Ildiger, who was the son-in-law of Antonina, the wife of Belisarius. And since it was no longer possible to find the revenues of the districts of Libya set down in order in documents, as the Romans had recorded them in former times,[25] inasmuch as Gizeric had upset and destroyed everything in the beginning, Tryphon and Eustratius were sent by the emperor, in order to assess the taxes for the Libyans each according to his proportion. But these men seemed to the Libyans neither moderate nor endurable. IX Belisarius, upon reaching Byzantium with Gelimer and the Vandals, was counted worthy to receive such honours, as in former times were assigned to those generals of the Romans who had won the greatest and most noteworthy victories. And a period of about six hundred years had now passed since anyone had attained these honours,[26] except, indeed, Titus and Trajan, and such other emperors as had led armies against some barbarian nation and had been victorious. For he displayed the spoils and slaves from the war in the midst of the city and led a procession which the Romans call a "triumph," not, however, in the ancient manner, but going on foot from his own house to the hippodrome and then again from the barriers until he reached the place where the imperial throne is.[27] And there was booty,--first of all, whatever articles are wont to be set apart for the royal service,--thrones of gold and carriages in which it is customary for a king's consort to ride, and much jewelry made of precious stones, and golden drinking cups, and all the other things which are useful for the royal table. And there was also silver weighing many thousands of talents and all the royal treasure amounting to an exceedingly great sum (for Gizeric had despoiled the Palatium in Rome, as has been said in the preceding narrative),[28] and among these were the treasures of the Jews, which Titus, the son of Vespasian, together with certain others, had brought to Rome after the capture of Jerusalem. And one of the Jews, seeing these things, approached one of those known to the emperor and said: "These treasures I think it inexpedient to carry into the palace in Byzantium. Indeed, it is not possible for them to be elsewhere than in the place where Solomon, the king of the Jews, formerly placed them. For it is because of these that Gizeric captured the palace of the Romans, and that now the Roman army has captured that the Vandals." When this had been brought to the ears of the Emperor, he became afraid and quickly sent everything to the sanctuaries of the Christians in Jerusalem. And there were slaves in the triumph, among whom was Gelimer himself, wearing some sort of a purple garment upon his shoulders, and all his family, and as many of the Vandals as were very tall and fair of body. And when Gelimer reached the hippodrome and saw the emperor sitting upon a lofty seat and the people standing on either side and realized as he looked about in what an evil plight he was, he neither wept nor cried out, but ceased not saying over in the words of the Hebrew scripture:[29] "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." And when he came before the emperor's seat, they stripped off the purple garment, and compelled him to fall prone on the ground and do obeisance to the Emperor Justinian. This also Belisarius did, as being a suppliant of the emperor along with him. And the Emperor Justinian and the Empress Theodora presented the children of Ilderic and his offspring and all those of the family of the Emperor Valentinian with sufficient sums of money, and to Gelimer they gave lands not to be despised in Galatia and permitted him to live there together with his family. However, Gelimer was by no means enrolled among the patricians, since he was unwilling to change from the faith of Arius. [Jan. 1, 535 A.D.] A little later the triumph[30] was celebrated by, Belisarius in the ancient manner also. For he had the fortune to be advanced to the office of consul, and therefore was borne aloft by the captives, and as he was thus carried in his curule chair, he threw to the populace those very spoils of the Vandalic war. For the people carried off the silver plate and golden girdles and a vast amount of the Vandals' wealth of other sorts as a result of Belisarius' consulship, and it seemed that after a long interval of disuse an old custom was being revived.[31] These things, then, took place in Byzantium in the manner described. X And Solomon took over the army in Libya; but in view of the fact that the Moors had risen against him, as has been told previously, and that everything was in suspense, he was at a loss how to treat the situation. For it was reported that the barbarians had destroyed the soldiers in Byzacium and Numidia and that they were pillaging and plundering everything there. But what disturbed most of all both him and all Carthage was the fate which befell Aïgan, the Massagete, and Rufinus, the Thracian, in Byzacium. For both were men of great repute both in the household of Belisarius and in the Roman army, one of them, Aïgan, being among the spearmen of Belisarius, while the other, as the most courageous of all, was accustomed to carry the standard of the general in battle; such an officer the Romans call "bandifer."[32] Now at the time referred to these two men were commanding detatchments of cavalry in Byzacium, and when they saw the Moors plundering everything before them and making all the Libyans captives, they watched in a narrow pass with their followers for those who were escorting the booty, and killed them and took away all the captives. And when a report of this came to the commanders of the barbarians, Coutzinas and Esdilasas and Iourphouthes and Medisinissas, who were not far away from this pass, they moved against them with their whole army in the late afternoon. And the Romans, being a very few men and shut off in a narrow place in the midst of many thousands, were not able to ward off their assailants. For wherever they might turn, they were always shot at from the rear. Then, indeed, Rufinus and Aïgan with some few men ran to the top of a rock which was near by and from there defended themselves against the barbarians. Now as long as they were using their bows, the enemy did not dare come directly to a hand-to-hand struggle with them, but they kept hurling their javelins among them; but when all the arrows of the Romans were now exhausted, the Moors closed with them, and they defended themselves with their swords as well as the circumstances permitted. But since they were overpowered by the multitude of the barbarians, Aïgan fell there with his whole body hacked to pieces, and Rufinus was seized by the enemy and led away. But straightway one of the commanders, Medisinissas, fearing lest he should escape and again make trouble for them, cut off his head and taking it to his home shewed it to his wives, for it was a remarkable sight on account of the extraordinary size of the head and the abundance of hair. And now, since the narration of the history has brought me to this point, it is necessary to tell from the beginning whence the nations of the Moors came to Libya and how they settled there. When the Hebrews had withdrawn from Egypt and had come near the boundaries of Palestine, Moses, a wise man, who was their leader on the journey, died, and the leadership was passed on to Joshua, the son of Nun, who led this people into Palestine, and, by displaying a valour in war greater than that natural to a man, gained possession of the land. And after overthrowing all the nations he easily won the cities, and he seemed to be altogether invincible. Now at that time the whole country along the sea from Sidon as far as the boundaries of Egypt was called Phoenicia. And one king in ancient times held sway over it, as is agreed by all who have written the earliest accounts of the Phoenicians. In that country there dwelt very populous tribes, the Gergesites and the Jebusites and some others with other names by which they are called in the history of the Hebrews.[33] Now when these nations saw that the invading general was an irresistible prodigy, they emigrated from their ancestral homes and made their way to Egypt, which adjoined their country. And finding there no place sufficient for them to dwell in, since there has been a great population in Aegypt from ancient times, they proceeded to Libya. And they established numerous cities and took possession of the whole of Libya as far as the Pillars of Heracles, and there they have lived even up to my time, using the Phoenician tongue. They also built a fortress in Numidia, where now is the city called Tigisis. In that place are two columns made of white stone near by the great spring, having Phoenician letters cut in them which say in the Phoenician tongue: "We are they who fled from before the face of Joshua, the robber, the son of Nun." There were also other nations settled in Libya before the Moors, who on account of having been established there from of old were said to be children of the soil. And because of this they said that Antaeus, their king, who wrestled with Heracles in Clipea,[34] was a son of the earth. And in later times those who removed from Phoenicia with Dido came to the inhabitants of Libya as to kinsmen. And they willingly allowed them to found and hold Carthage. But as time went on Carthage became a powerful and populous city. And a battle took place between them and their neighbours, who, as has been said, had come from Palestine before them and are called Moors at the present time, and the Carthaginians defeated them and compelled them to live a very great distance away from Carthage. Later on the Romans gained the supremacy over all of them in war, and settled the Moors at the extremity of the inhabited land of Libya, and made the Carthaginians and the other Libyans subject and tributary to themselves. And after this the Moors won many victories over the Vandals and gained possession of the land now called Mauretania, extending from Gadira as far as the boundaries of Caesarea,[35] as well as the most of Libya which remained. Such, then, is the story of the settlement of the Moors in Libya. XI Now when Solomon heard what had befallen Rufinus and Aïgan, he made ready for war and wrote as follows to the commanders of the Moors: "Other men than you have even before this had the ill fortune to lose their senses and to be destroyed, men who had no means of judging beforehand how their folly would turn out. But as for you, who have the example near at hand in your neighbours, the Vandals, what in the world has happened to you that you have decided to raise your hands against the great emperor and throw away your own security, and that too when you have given the most dread oaths in writing and have handed over your children as pledges to the agreement? Is it that you have determined to make a kind of display of the fact that you have no consideration either for God or for good faith or for kinship itself or for safety or for any other thing at all? And yet, if such is your practice in matters which concern the divine, in what ally do you put your trust in marching against the emperor of the Romans? And if you are taking the field to the destruction of your children, what in the world is it in behalf of which you have decided to endanger yourselves? But if any repentance has by now entered your hearts for what has already taken place, write to us, that we may satisfactorily arrange with you touching what has already been done; but if your madness has not yet abated, expect a Roman war, which will come upon you together with the oaths which you have violated and the wrong which you are doing to your own children." Such was the letter which Solomon wrote. And the Moors replied as follows: "Belisarius deluded us with great promises and by this means persuaded us to become subjects of the Emperor Justinian; but the Romans, while giving us no share in any good thing, expected to have us, though pinched with hunger, as their friends and allies. Therefore it is more fitting that you should be called faithless than that the Moors should be. For the men who break treaties are not those who, when manifestly wronged, bring accusation against their neighbours and turn away from them, but those who expect to keep others in faithful alliance with them and then do them violence. And men make God their enemy, not when they march against others in order to recover their own possessions, but when they get themselves into danger of war by encroaching upon the possessions of others. And as for children, that will be your concern, who are not permitted to marry more than one wife; but with us, who have, it may be, fifty wives living with each of us, offspring of children can never fail." When Solomon had read this letter, he decided to lead his whole army against the Moors. So after arranging matters in Carthage, he proceeded with all his troops to Byzacium. And when he reached the place which is called Mammes,[36] where the four Moorish commanders, whom I have mentioned a little before,[37] were encamped, he made a stockade for himself. Now there are lofty mountains there, and a level space near the foothills of the mountains, where the barbarians had made preparations for the battle and arranged their fighting order as follows. They formed a circle of their camels, just as, in the previous narrative,[38] I have said Cabaon did, making the front about twelve deep. And they placed the women with the children within the circle; (for among the Moors it is customary to take also a few women, with their children, to battle, and these make the stockades and huts for them and tend the horses skilfully, and have charge of the camels and the food; they also sharpen the iron weapons and take upon themselves many of the tasks in connection with the preparation for battle); and the men themselves took their stand on foot in between the legs of the camels, having shields and swords and small spears which they are accustomed to hurl like javelins. And some of them with their horses remained quietly among the mountains. But Solomon disregarded one half of the circle of the Moors, which was towards the mountain, placing no one there. For he feared lest the enemy on the mountain should come down and those in the circle should turn about and thus make the men drawn up there exposed to attack on both sides in the battle. But against the remainder of the circle he drew up his whole army, and since he saw the most of them frightened and without courage, on account of what had befallen Aïgan and Rufinus, and wishing to admonish them to be of good cheer, he spoke as follows: "Men who have campaigned with Belisarius, let no fear of these men enter your minds, and, if Moors gathered to the number of fifty thousand have already defeated five hundred Romans, let not this stand for you as an example. But call to mind your own valour, and consider that while the Vandals defeated the Moors, you have become masters of the Vandals in war without any effort, and that it is not right that those who have conquered the greater should be terrified before those who are inferior. And indeed of all men the Moorish nation seems to be the most poorly equipped for war's struggle. For the most of them have no armour at all, and those who have shields to hold before themselves have only small ones which are not well made and are not able to turn aside what strikes against them. And after they have thrown those two small spears, if they do not accomplish anything, they turn of their own accord to flight. So that it is possible for you, after guarding against the first attack of the barbarians, to win the victory with no trouble at all. But as to your equipment of arms, you see, of course, how great is the difference between it and that of your opponents. And apart from this, both valour of heart and strength of body and experience in war and confidence because you have already conquered all your enemies,--all these advantages you have; but the Moors, being deprived of all these things, put their trust only in their own great throng. And it is easier for a few who are most excellently prepared to conquer a multitude of men not good at warfare than it is for the multitude to defeat them. For while the good soldier has his confidence in himself, the cowardly man generally finds that the very number of those arrayed with him produces a want of room that is full of peril. Furthermore, you are warranted in despising these camels, which cannot fight for the enemy, and when struck by our missiles will, in all probability, become the cause of considerable confusion and disorder among them. And the eagerness for battle which the enemy have acquired on account of their former success will be your ally in the fight. For daring, when it is kept commensurate with one's power, will perhaps be of some benefit even to those who make use of it, but when it exceeds one's power it lends into danger. Bearing these things in mind and despising the enemy, observe silence and order; for by taking thought for these things we shall win the victory over the disorder of the barbarians more easily and with less labour." Thus spoke Solomon. And the commanders of the Moors also, seeing the barbarians terrified at the orderly array of the Romans, and wishing to recall their host to confidence again, exhorted them in this wise: "That the Romans have human bodies, the kind that yield when struck with iron, we have been taught, O fellow-soldiers, by those of them whom we have recently met, the best of them all, some of whom we have overwhelmed with our spears and killed, and the others we have seized and made our prisoners of war. And not only is this so, but it is now possible to see also that we boast great superiority over them in numbers. And, furthermore, the struggle for us involves the very greatest things, either to be masters of all Libya or to be slaves to these braggarts. It is therefore necessary for us to be in the highest degree brave men at the present time. For it is not expedient that those whose all is at stake should be other than exceedingly courageous. And it behoves us to despise the equipment of arms which the enemy have. For if they come on foot against us, they will not be able to move rapidly, but will be worsted by the agility of the Moors, and their cavalry will be terrified both by the sight of the camels, and by the noise they make, which, rising above the general tumult of battle, will, in all likelihood, throw them into disorder. And if anyone by taking into consideration the victory of the Romans over the Vandals thinks them not to be withstood, he is mistaken in his judgment. For the scales of war are, in the nature of the case, turned by the valour of the commander or by fortune; and Belisarius, who was responsible for their gaining the mastery over the Vandals, has now, thanks to Heaven, been removed out of our way. And, besides, we too have many times conquered the Vandals and stripped them of their power, and have thus made the victory over them a more feasible and an easier task for the Romans. And now we have reason to hope to conquer this enemy also if you shew yourselves brave men in the struggle." After the officers of the Moors had delivered this exhortation, they began the engagement. And at first there arose great disorder in the Roman army. For their horses were offended by the noise made by the camels and by the sight of them, and reared up and threw off their riders and the most of them fled in complete disorder. And in the meantime the Moors were making sallies and hurling all the small spears which they had in their hands, thus causing the Roman army to be filled with tumult, and they were hitting them with their missiles while they were unable either to defend themselves or to remain in position. But after this, Solomon, observing what was happening, leaped down from his horse himself first and caused all the others to do the same. And when they had dismounted, he commanded the others to stand still, and, holding their shields before them and receiving the missiles sent by the enemy, to remain in their position; but he himself, leading forward not less than five hundred men, made an attack upon the other portion of the circle.[39] These men he commanded to draw their swords and kill the camels which stood at that point. Then the Moors who were stationed there beat a hasty retreat, and the men under Solomon killed about two hundred camels, and straightway, when the camels fell, the circle became accessible to the Romans. And they advanced on the run into the middle of the circle where the women of the Moors were sitting; meanwhile the barbarians in consternation withdrew to the mountain which was close by, and as they fled in complete disorder the Romans followed behind and killed them. And it is said that ten thousand of the Moors perished in this encounter, while all the women together with the children were made slaves. And the soldiers secured as booty all the camels which they had not killed. Thus the Romans with all their plunder went to Carthage to celebrate the festival of triumph. XII But the barbarians, being moved with anger, once more took the field in a body against the Romans, leaving behind not one of their number, and they began to overrun the country in Byzacium, sparing none of any age of those who fell in their way. And when Solomon had just marched into Carthage it was reported that the barbarians with a great host had come into Byzacium and were plundering everything there. He therefore departed quickly with his whole army and marched against them. And when he reached Bourgaon, where the enemy were encamped, he remained some days in camp over against them, in order that, as soon as the Moors should get on level ground, he might begin the battle. But since they remained on the mountain, he marshalled his army and arrayed it for battle; the Moors, however, had no intention of ever again engaging in battle with the Romans in level country (for already an irresistible fear had come over them), but on the mountain they hoped to overcome them more easily. Now Mt. Bourgaon is for the most part precipitous and on the side toward the east extremely difficult to ascend, but on the west it is easily accessible and rises in an even slope. And there are two lofty peaks which rise up, forming between them a sort of vale, very narrow, but of incredible depth. Now the barbarians left the peak of the mountain unoccupied, thinking that on this side no hostile movement would be made against them; and they left equally unprotected the space about the foot of the mountain where Bourgaon was easy of access. But at the middle of the ascent they made their camp and remained there, in order that, if the enemy should ascend and begin battle with them, they might at the outset, being on higher ground, shoot down upon their heads. They also had on the mountain many horses, prepared either for flight or for the pursuit, if they should win the battle. Now when Solomon saw that the Moors were unwilling to fight another battle on the level ground, and also that the Roman army was opposed to making a siege in a desert place, he was eager to come to an encounter with the enemy on Bourgaon. But inasmuch as he saw that the soldiers were stricken with terror because of the multitude of their opponents, which was many times greater than it had been in the previous battle, he called together the army and spoke as follows: "The fear which the enemy feel toward you needs no other arraignment, but voluntarily pleads guilty, bringing forward, as it does, the testimony of its own witnesses. For you see, surely, our opponents gathered in so many tens and tens of thousands, but not daring to come down to the plain and engage with us, unable to feel confidence even in their own selves, but taking refuge in the difficulty of this place. It is therefore not even necessary to address any exhortation to you, at the present time at least. For those to whom both the circumstances and the weakness of the enemy give courage, need not, I think, the additional assistance of words. But of this one thing it will be needful to remind you, that if we fight out this engagement also with brave hearts, it will remain for us, having defeated the Vandals and reduced the Moors to the same fortune, to enjoy all the good things of Libya, having no thought whatever of an enemy in our minds. But as to preventing the enemy from shooting down upon our heads, and providing that no harm come to us from the nature of the place, I myself shall make provision." After making this exhortation Solomon commanded Theodorus, who led the "excubitores[40]" (for thus the Romans call their guards), to take with him a thousand infantrymen toward the end of the afternoon and with some of the standards to go up secretly on the east side of Bourgaon, where the mountain is most difficult of ascent and, one might say, impracticable, commanding him that, when they arrived near the crest of the mountain, they should remain quietly there and pass the rest of the night, and that at sunrise they should appear above the enemy and displaying the standards commence to shoot. And Theodoras did as directed. And when it was well on in the night, they climbed up the precipitous slope and reached a point near the peak without being noticed either by the Moors or even by any of the Romans; for they were being sent out, it was said, as an advance guard, to prevent anyone from coming to the camp from the outside to do mischief. And at early dawn Solomon with the whole army went up against the enemy to the outskirts of Bourgaon. And when morning had come and the enemy were seen near at hand, the soldiers were completely at a loss, seeing the summit of the mountain no longer unoccupied, as formerly, but covered with men who were displaying Roman standards; for already some daylight was beginning to shew. But when those on the peak began their attack, the Romans perceived that the army was their own and the barbarians that they had been placed between their enemy's forces, and being shot at from both sides and having no opportunity to ward off the enemy, they thought no more of resistance but turned, all of them, to a hasty flight. And since they could neither run up to the top of Bourgaon, which was held by the enemy, nor go to the plain anywhere over the lower slopes of the mountain, since their opponents were pressing upon them from that side, they went with a great rush to the vale and the unoccupied peak, some even with their horses, others on foot. But since they were a numerous throng fleeing in great fear and confusion, they kept killing each other, and as they rushed into the vale, which was exceedingly deep, those who were first were being killed constantly, but their plight could not be perceived by those who were coming up behind. And when the vale became full of dead horses and men, and the bodies made a passage from Bourgaon to the other mountain, then the remainder were saved by making the crossing over the bodies. And there perished in this struggle, among the Moors fifty thousand, as was declared by those of them who survived, but among the Romans no one at all, nor indeed did anyone receive even a wound, either at the hand of the enemy or by any accident happening to him, but they all enjoyed this victory unscathed. All of the leaders of the barbarians also made their escape, except Esdilasas, who received pledges and surrendered himself to the Romans. So great, however, was the multitude of women and children whom the Romans seized as booty, that they would sell a Moorish boy for the price of a sheep to any who wished to buy. And then the remainder of the Moors recalled the saying of their women, to the effect that their nation would be destroyed by a beardless man.[41] So the Roman army, together with its booty and with Esdilasas, marched into Carthage; and those of the barbarians who had not perished decided that it was impossible to settle in Byzacium, lest they, being few, should be treated with violence by the Libyans who were their neighbours, and with their leaders they went into Numidia and made themselves suppliants of Iaudas, who ruled the Moors in Aurasium.[42] And the only Moors who remained in Byzacium were those led by Antalas, who during this time had kept faith with the Romans and together with his subjects had remained unharmed. XIII But during the time when these things were happening in Byzacium, Iaudas, who ruled the Moors in Aurasium, bringing more than thirty thousand fighting men, was plundering the country of Numidia and enslaving many of the Libyans. Now it so happened that Althias[43] in Centuriae was keeping guard over the forts there; and he, being eager to take from the enemy some of their captives, went outside the fort with the Huns who were under his command, to the number of about seventy. And reasoning that he was not able to cope with such a great multitude of Moors with only seventy men, he wished to occupy some narrow pass, so that, while the enemy were marching through it, he might be able to snatch up some of the captives. And since there are no such roads there, because flat plains extend in every direction, he devised the following plan. There is a city not far distant, named Tigisis, then an unwalled place, but having a great spring at a place which was very closely shut in. Althias therefore decided to take possession of this spring, reasoning that the enemy, compelled by thirst, would surely come there; for there is no other water at all close by. Now it seemed to all upon considering the disparity of the armies that his plan was insane. But the Moors came up feeling very much wearied and greatly oppressed by the heat in the summer weather, and naturally almost overcome by an intense thirst, and they made for the spring with a great rush, having no thought of meeting any obstacle. But when they found the water held by the enemy, they all halted, at a loss what to do, the greatest part of their strength having been already expended because of their desire for water. Iaudas therefore had a parley with Althias and agreed to give him the third part of the booty, on condition that the Moors should all drink. But Althias was by no means willing to accept the proposal, but demanded that he fight with him in single combat for the booty. And this challenge being accepted by Iaudas, it was agreed that if it so fell out that Althias was overcame, the Moors should drink. And the whole Moorish army was rejoiced, being in good hope, since Althias was lean and not tall of body, while Iaudas was the finest and most warlike of all the Moors. Now both of them were, as it happened, mounted. And Iaudas hurled his spear first, but as it was coming toward him Althias succeeded with amazing skill in catching it with his right hand, thus filling Iaudas and the enemy with consternation. And with his left hand he drew his bow instantly, for he was ambidextrous, and hit and killed the horse of Iaudas. And as he fell, the Moors brought another horse for their commander, upon which Iaudas leaped and straightway fled; and the Moorish army followed him in complete disorder. And Althias, by thus taking from them the captives and the whole of the booty, won a great name in consequence of this deed throughout all Libya. Such, then, was the course of these events. And Solomon, after delaying a short time in Carthage, led his army toward Mt. Aurasium and Iaudas, alleging against him that, while the Roman army was occupied in Byzacium, he had plundered many of the places in Numidia. And this was true. Solomon was also urged on against Iaudas by the other commanders of the Moors, Massonas and Ortaïas, because of their personal enmity; Massonas, because his father Mephanias, who was the father-in-law of Iaudas, had been treacherously slain by him, and Ortaïas, because Iaudas, together with Mastinas, who ruled over the barbarians in Mauretania, had purposed to drive him and all the Moors whom he ruled from the land where they had dwelt from of old. So the Roman army, under the leadership of Solomon, and those of the Moors who came into alliance with them, made their camp on the river Abigas, which flows along by Aurasium and waters the land there. But to Iaudas it seemed inexpedient to array himself against the enemy in the plain, but he made his preparations on Aurasium in such a way as seemed to him would offer most difficulty to his assailants. This mountain is about thirteen days' journey distant from Carthage, and the largest of all known to us. For its circuit is a three days' journey for an unencumbered traveller. And for one wishing to go upon it the mountain is difficult of access and extremely wild, but as one ascends and reaches the level ground, plains are seen and many springs which form rivers and a great number of altogether wonderful parks. And the grain which grows here, and every kind of fruit, is double the size of that produced in all the rest of Libya. And there are fortresses also on this mountain, which are neglected, by reason of the fact that they do not seem necessary to the inhabitants. For since the time when the Moors wrested Aurasium from the Vandals,[44] not a single enemy had until now ever come there or so much as caused the barbarians to be afraid that they would come, but even the populous city of Tamougadis, situated against the mountain on the east at the beginning of the plain, was emptied of its population by the Moors and razed to the ground, in order that the enemy should not only not be able to encamp there, but should not even have the city as an excuse for coming near the mountain. And the Moors of that place held also the land to the west of Aurasium, a tract both extensive and fertile. And beyond these dwelt other nations of the Moors, who were ruled by Ortaïas, who had come, as was stated above, as an ally to Solomon and the Romans. And I have heard this man say that beyond the country which he ruled there was no habitation of men, but desert land extending to a great distance, and that beyond that there are men, not black-skinned like the Moors, but very white in body and fair-haired. So much, then, for these things. And Solomon, after bribing the Moorish allies with great sums of money and earnestly exhorting them, began the ascent of Mt. Aurasium with the whole army arrayed as for battle, thinking that on that day he would do battle with the enemy and just as he was have the matter out with them according as fortune should wish. Accordingly the soldiers did not even take with them any food, except a little, for themselves and their horses. And after proceeding over very rough ground for about fifty stades, they made a bivouac. And covering a similar distance each day they came on the seventh day to a place where there was an ancient fortress and an ever-flowing stream. The place is called "Shield Mountain" by the Romans in their own tongue.[45] Now it was reported to them that the enemy were encamped there, and when they reached this place and encountered no enemy, they made camp and, preparing themselves for battle, remained there; and three days' time was spent by them in that place. And since the enemy kept altogether out of their way, and their provisions had failed, the thought came to Solomon and to the whole army that there had been some plot against them on the part of the Moors who were their allies; for these Moors were not unacquainted with the conditions of travel on Aurasium, and understood, probably, what had been decided upon by the enemy; they were stealthily going out to meet them each day, it was said, and had also frequently been sent to their country by the Romans to reconnoitre, and had decided to make nothing but false reports, in order, no doubt, that the Romans, with no prior knowledge of conditions, might make the ascent of Mt. Aurasium without supplies for a longer time or without preparing themselves otherwise in the way which would be best. And, all things considered, the Romans were suspicious that an ambush had been set for them by men who were their allies and began to be afraid, reasoning that the Moors are said to be by nature untrustworthy at all times and especially whenever they march as allies with the Romans or any others against Moors. So, remembering these things, and at the same time being pinched by hunger, they withdrew from there with all speed without accomplishing anything, and, upon reaching the plain, constructed a stockade. After this Solomon established a part of the army in Numidia to serve as a guard and with the remainder went to Carthage, since it was already winter. There he arranged and set everything in order, so that at the beginning of spring he might again march against Aurasium with a larger equipment and, if possible, without Moors as allies. At the same time he prepared generals and another army and a fleet of ships for an expedition against the Moors who dwell in the island of Sardinia; for this island is a large one and flourishing besides, being about two thirds as large as Sicily (for the perimeter of the island makes a journey of twenty days for an unencumbered traveller); and lying, as it does, between Rome and Carthage, it was oppressed by the Moors who dwelt there. For the Vandals in ancient times, being enraged against these barbarians, sent some few of them with their wives to Sardinia and confined them there. But as time went on they seized the mountains which are near Caranalis, at first making plundering expeditions secretly upon those who dwelt round about, but when they became no less than three thousand, they even made their raids openly, and with no desire for concealment plundered all the country there, being called Barbaricini[46] by the natives. It was against these barbarians, therefore, that Solomon was preparing the fleet during that winter. Such, then, was the course of events in Libya. XIV And in Italy during these same times the following events took place. Belisarius was sent against Theodatus and the Gothic nation by the Emperor Justinian, and sailing to Sicily he secured this island with no trouble. And the manner in which this was done will be told in the following pages, when the history leads me to the narration of the events in Italy. For it has not seemed to me out of order first to record all the events which happened in Libya and after that to turn to the portion of the history touching Italy and the Goths. During this winter Belisarius remained in Syracuse and Solomon in Carthage. And it came about during this year that a most dread portent took place. For the sun gave forth its light without brightness, like the moon, during this whole year, and it seemed exceedingly like the sun in eclipse, for the beams it shed were not clear nor such as it is accustomed to shed. And from the time when this thing happened men were free neither from war nor pestilence nor any other thing leading to death. And it was the time when Justinian was in the tenth year of his reign. [536-537 A.D.] [536 A.D.] At the opening of spring, when the Christians were celebrating the feast which they call Easter, there arose a mutiny among the soldiers in Libya. I shall now tell how it arose and to what end it came. After the Vandals had been defeated in the battle, as I have told previously,[47] the Roman soldiers took their daughters and wives and made them their own by lawful marriage. And each one of these women kept urging her husband to lay claim to the possession of the lands which she had owned previously, saying that it was not right or fitting if, while living with the Vandals, they had enjoyed these lands, but after entering into marriage with the conquerors of the Vandals they were then to be deprived of their possessions. And having these things in mind, the soldiers did not think that they were bound to yield the lands of the Vandals to Solomon, who wished to register them as belonging to the commonwealth and to the emperor's house and said that while it was not unreasonable that the slaves and all other things of value should go as booty to the soldiers, the land itself belonged to the emperor and the empire of the Romans, which had nourished them and caused them to be called soldiers and to be such, not in order to win for themselves such land as they should wrest from the barbarians who were trespassing on the Roman empire, but that this land might come to the commonwealth, from which both they and all others secured their maintenance. This was one cause of the mutiny. And there was a second, concurrent, cause also, which was no less, perhaps even more, effective in throwing all Libya into confusion. It was as follows: In the Roman army there were, as it happened, not less than one thousand soldiers of the Arian faith; and the most of these were barbarians, some of these being of the Erulian[48] nation. Now these men were urged on to the mutiny by the priests of the Vandals with the greatest zeal. For it was not possible for them to worship God in their accustomed way, but they were excluded both from all sacraments and from all sacred rites. For the Emperor Justinian did not allow any Christian who did not espouse the orthodox faith to receive baptism or any other sacrament. But most of all they were agitated by the feast of Easter, during which they found themselves unable to baptize[49] their own children with the sacred water, or do anything else pertaining to this feast. And as if these things were not sufficient for Heaven, in its eagerness to ruin the fortunes of the Romans, it so fell out that still another thing provided an occasion for those who were planning the mutiny. For the Vandals whom Belisarius took to Byzantium were placed by the emperor in five cavalry squadrons, in order that they might be settled permanently in the cities of the East; he also called them the "Vandals of Justinian," and ordered them to betake themselves in ships to the East. Now the majority of these Vandal soldiers reached the East, and, filling up the squadrons to which they had been assigned, they have been fighting against the Persians up to the present time; but the remainder, about four hundred in number, after reaching Lesbos, waiting until the sails were bellied with the wind, forced the sailors to submission and sailed on till they reached the Peloponnesus. And setting sail from there, they came to land in Libya at a desert place, where they abandoned the ships, and, after equipping themselves, went up to Mt. Aurasium and Mauretania. Elated by their accession, the soldiers who were planning the mutiny formed a still closer conspiracy among themselves. And there was much talk about this in the camp and oaths were already being taken. And when the rest were about to celebrate the Easter festival, the Arians, being vexed by their exclusion from the sacred rites, purposed to attack them vigorously. And it seemed best to their leading men to kill Solomon in the sanctuary on the first day of the feast, which they call the great day. [March 23, 536 A.D.] And they were fortunate enough not to be found out, since no one disclosed this plan. For though there were many who shared in the horrible plot, no word of it was divulged to any hostile person as the orders were passed around, and thus they succeeded completely in escaping detection, for even the spearmen and guards of Solomon for the most part and the majority of his domestics had become associated with this mutiny because of their desire for the lands. And when the appointed day had now come, Solomon was sitting in the sanctuary, utterly ignorant of his own misfortune. And those who had decided to kill the man went in, and, urging one another with nods, they put their hands to their swords, but they did nothing nevertheless, either because they were filled with awe of the rites then being performed in the sanctuary, or because the fame of the general caused them to be ashamed, or perhaps also some divine power prevented them. And when the rites on that day had been completely performed and all were betaking themselves homeward, the conspirators began to blame one another with having turned soft-hearted at no fitting time, and they postponed the plot for a second attempt on the following day. And on the next day they acted in the same manner and departed from the sanctuary without doing anything, and entering the market place, they reviled each other openly, and every single man of them called the next one soft-hearted and a demoralizer of the band, not hesitating to censure strongly the respect felt for Solomon. For this reason, indeed, they thought that they could no longer without danger remain in Carthage, inasmuch as they had disclosed their plot to the whole city. The most of them, accordingly, went out of the city quickly and began to plunder the lands and to treat as enemies all the Libyans whom they met; but the rest remained in the city, giving no indication of what their own intentions were but pretending ignorance of the plot which had been formed. But Solomon, upon hearing what was being done by the soldiers in the country, became greatly disturbed, and ceased not exhorting those in the city and urging them to loyalty toward the emperor. And they at first seemed to receive his words with favour, but on the fifth day, when they heard that those who had gone out were secure in their power, they gathered in the hippodrome and insulted Solomon and the other commanders without restraint. And Theodorus, the Cappadocian, being sent there by Solomon, attempted to dissuade them and win them by kind words, but they listened to nothing of what was said. Now this Theodorus had a certain hostility against Solomon and was suspected of plotting against him. For this reason the mutineers straightway elected him general over them by acclamation, and with him they went with all speed to the palace carrying weapons and raising a great tumult. There they killed another Theodorus, who was commander of the guards, a man of the greatest excellence in every respect and an especially capable warrior. And when they had tasted this blood, they began immediately to kill everyone they met, whether Libyan or Roman, if he were known to Solomon or had money in his hands; and then they turned to plundering, going up into the houses which had no soldiers to defend them and seizing all the most valuable things, until the coming of night, and drunkenness following their toil, made them cease. And Solomon succeeded in escaping unnoticed into the great sanctuary which is in the palace, and Martinus joined him there in the late afternoon. And when all the mutineers were sleeping, they went out from the sanctuary and entered the house of Theodorus, the Cappadocian, who compelled them to dine although they had no desire to do so, and conveyed them to the harbour and put them on the skiff of a certain ship, which happened to have been made ready there by Martinus. And Procopius also, who wrote this history, was with them, and about five men of the house of Solomon. And after accomplishing three hundred stades they reached Misuas, the ship-yard of Carthage, and, since they had reached safety, Solomon straightway commanded Martinus to go into Numidia to Valerian and the others who shared his command, and endeavour to bring it about that each one of them, if it were in any way possible, should appeal to some of the soldiers known to him, either with money or by other means, and bring them back to loyalty toward the emperor. And he sent a letter to Theodorus, charging him to take care of Carthage and to handle the other matters as should seem possible to him, and he himself with Procopius went to Belisarius at Syracuse. And after reporting everything to him which had taken place in Libya, he begged him to come with all speed to Carthage and defend the emperor, who was suffering unholy treatment at the hands of his own soldiers, Solomon, then, was thus engaged. XV But the mutineers, after plundering everything in Carthage, gathered in the plain of Boulla, and chose Stotzas,[50] one of the guards of Martinus, and a passionate and energetic man, as tyrant over them, with the purpose of driving the emperor's commanders out of all Libya and thus gaining control over it. And he armed the whole force, amounting to about eight thousand men, and led them on to Carthage, thinking to win over the city instantly with no trouble. He sent also to the Vandals who had run away from Byzantium with the ships and those who had not gone there with Belisarius in the beginning, either because they had escaped notice, or because those who were taking off the Vandals at that time took no account of them. Now they were not fewer than a thousand, and after no great time they joined Stotzas and the army with enthusiasm. And a great throng of slaves also came to him. And when they drew near Carthage, Stotzas sent orders that the people should surrender the city to him as quickly as possible, on condition of their remaining free from harm. But those in Carthage and Theodorus, in reply to this, refused flatly to obey, and announced that they were guarding Carthage for the emperor. And they sent to Stotzas Joseph, the secretary of the emperor's guards, a man of no humble birth and one of the household of Belisarius, who had recently been sent to Carthage on some mission to them, and they demanded that Stotzas should go no further in his violence. But Stotzas, upon hearing this, straightway killed Joseph and commenced a siege. And those in the city, becoming terrified at the danger, were purposing to surrender themselves and Carthage to Stotzas under an agreement. Such was the course of events in the army in Libya. But Belisarius selected one hundred men from his own spearmen and guards, and taking Solomon with him, sailed into Carthage with one ship at about dusk, at the time when the besiegers were expecting that the city would be surrendered to them on the following day. And since they were expecting this, they bivouacked that night. But when day had come and they learned that Belisarius was present, they broke up camp as quickly as possible and disgracefully and in complete disorder beat a hasty retreat And Belisarius gathered about two thousand of the army and, after urging them with words to be loyal to the emperor and encouraging them with large gifts of money, he began the pursuit of the fugitives. And he overtook them at the city of Membresa, three hundred and fifty stades distant from Carthage. There both armies made camp and prepared themselves for battle, the forces of Belisarius making their entrenchment at the River Bagradas, and the others in a high and difficult position. For neither of them saw fit to enter the city, since it was without walls. And on the day following they joined battle, the mutineers trusting in their numbers, and the troops of Belisarius despising their enemy as both without sense and without generals. And Belisarius, wishing that these thoughts should be firmly lodged in the minds of his soldiers, called them all together and spoke as follows:-- "The situation, fellow-soldiers, both for the emperor and for the Romans, falls far short of our hopes and of our prayers. For we have now come to a combat in which even the winning of the victory will not be without tears for us, since we are fighting against kinsmen and men who have been reared with us. But we have this comfort in our misfortune, that we are not ourselves beginning the battle, but have been brought into the conflict in our own defence. For he who has framed the plot against his dearest friends and by his own act has dissolved the ties of kinship, dies not, if he perishes, by the hands of his friends, but having become an enemy is but making atonement to those who have suffered wrong. And that our opponents are public enemies and barbarians and whatever worse name one might call them, is shewn not alone by Libya, which has become plunder under their hands, nor by the inhabitants of this land, who have been wrongfully slain, but also by the multitude of Roman soldiers whom these enemies have dared to kill, though they have had but one fault to charge them with--loyalty to their government. And it is to avenge these their victims that we have now come against them, having with good reason become enemies to those who were once most dear. For nature has made no men in the world either friends or opponents to one another, but it is the actions of men in every case which, either by the similarity of the motives which actuate them unite them in alliance, or by the difference set them in hostility to each other, making them friends or enemies as the case may be. That, therefore, we are fighting against men who are outlaws and enemies of the state, you must now be convinced; and now I shall make it plain that they deserve to be despised by us. For a throng of men united by no law, but brought together by motives of injustice, is utterly unable by nature to play the part of brave men, since valour is unable to dwell with lawlessness, but always shuns those who are unholy. Nor, indeed, will they preserve discipline or give heed to the commands given by Stotzas. For when a tyranny is newly organized and has not yet won that authority which self-confidence gives, it is, of necessity, looked upon by its subjects with contempt. Nor is it honoured through any sentiment of loyalty, for a tyranny is, in the nature of the case, hated; nor does it lead its subjects by fear, for timidity deprives it of the power to speak out openly. And when the enemy is handicapped in point of valour and of discipline, their defeat is ready at hand. With great contempt, therefore, as I said, we should go against this enemy of ours. For it is not by the numbers of the combatants, but by their orderly array and their bravery, that prowess in war is wont to be measured." So spoke Belisarius. And Stotzas exhorted his troops as follows: "Men who with me have escaped our servitude to the Romans, let no one of you count it unworthy to die on behalf of the freedom which you have won by your courage and your other qualities. For it is not so terrible a thing to grow old and die in the midst of ills, as to return again to it after having gained freedom from oppressive conditions. For the interval which has given one a taste of deliverance makes the misfortune, naturally enough, harder to bear. And this being so, it is necessary for you to call to mind that after conquering the Vandals and the Moors you yourselves have enjoyed the labours of war, while others have become masters of all the spoils. And consider that, as soldiers, you will be compelled all your lives to be acquainted with the dangers of war, either in behalf of the emperor's cause, if, indeed, you are again his slaves, or in behalf of your own selves, if you preserve this present liberty. And whichever of the two is preferable, this it is in your power to choose, either by becoming faint-hearted at this time, or by preferring to play the part of brave men. Furthermore, this thought also should come to your minds,--that if, having taken up arms against the Romans, you come under their power, you will have experience of no moderate or indulgent masters, but you will suffer the extreme of punishment, and, what is more, your death will not have been unmerited. To whomsoever of you, therefore, death comes in this battle, it is plain that it will be a glorious death; and life, if you conquer the enemy, will be independent and in all other respects happy; but if you are defeated,--I need mention no other bitterness than this, that all your hope will depend upon the mercy of those men yonder. And the conflict will not be evenly matched in regard to strength. For not only are the enemy greatly surpassed by us in numbers, but they will come against us without the least enthusiasm, for I think that they are praying for a share of this our freedom." Such was the speech of Stotzas. As the armies entered the combat, a wind both violent and exceedingly troublesome began to blow in the faces of the mutineers of Stotzas. For this reason they thought it disadvantageous for them to fight the battle where they were, fearing lest the wind by its overpowering force should carry the missiles of the enemy against them, while the impetus of their own missiles would be very seriously checked. They therefore left their position and moved toward the flank, reasoning that if the enemy also should change front, as they probably would, in order that they might not be assailed from the rear, the wind would then be in their faces. But Belisarius, upon seeing that they had left their position and in complete disorder were moving to his flank, gave orders immediately to open the attack. And the troops of Stotzas were thrown into confusion by the unexpected move, and in great disorder, as each one could, they fled precipitately, and only when they reached Numidia did they collect themselves again. Few of them, however, perished in this action, and most of them were Vandals. For Belisarius did not pursue them at all, for the reason that it seemed to him sufficient, since his army was very small, if the enemy, having been defeated for the present, should get out of his way. And he gave the soldiers the enemy's stockade to plunder, and they took it with not a man inside. But much money was found there and many women, the very women because of whom this war took place.[51] After accomplishing this, Belisarius marched back to Carthage. And someone coming from Sicily reported to him that a mutiny had broken out in the army and was about to throw everything into confusion, unless he himself should return to them with all speed and take measures to prevent it. He there therefore arranged matters in Libya as well as he could and, entrusting Carthage to Ildiger and Theodorus, went to Sicily. And the Roman commanders in Numidia, hearing that the troops of Stotzas had come and were gathering there, prepared for battle. Now the commanders were as follows: of foederati,[52] Marcellus and Cyril, of the cavalry forces, Barbatus, and of infantry Terentius and Sarapis. All, however, took their commands from Marcellus, as holding the authority in Numidia. He, therefore, upon hearing that Stotzas with some few men was in a place called Gazophyla,[53] about two days' journey distant from Constantina,[54] wished to anticipate the gathering of all the mutineers, and led his army swiftly against them. And when the two armies were near together and the battle was about to commence, Stotzas came alone into the midst of his opponents and spoke as follows: "Fellow-soldiers, you are not acting justly in taking the field against kinsmen and those who have been reared with you, and in raising arms against men who in vexation at your misfortunes and the wrongs you have suffered have decided to make war upon the emperor and the Romans. Or do you not remember that you have been deprived of the pay which has been owing you for a long time back, and that you have been robbed of the enemy's spoil, which the law of war has set as prizes for the dangers of battle? And that the others have claimed the right to live sumptuously all their lives upon the good things of victory, while you have followed as if their servants? If, now, you are angry with me, it is within your power to vent your wrath upon this body, and to escape the pollution of killing the others; but if you have no charge to bring against me, it is time for you to take up your weapons in your own behalf." So spoke Stotzas; and the soldiers listened to his words and greeted him with great favour. And when the commanders saw what was happening, they withdrew in silence and took refuge in a sanctuary which was in Gazophyla. And Stotzas combined both armies into one and then went to the commanders. And finding them in the sanctuary, he gave pledges and then killed them all. XVI When the emperor learned this, he sent his nephew Germanus, a man of patrician rank, with some few men to Libya. And Symmachus also and Domnicus, men of the senate, followed him, the former to be prefect and charged with the maintenance of the army, while Domnicus was to command the infantry forces. For John,[55] who had held the office of prefect, had already died of disease. And when they had sailed into Carthage, Germanus counted the soldiers whom they had, and upon looking over the books of the scribes where the names of all the soldiers were registered, he found that the third part of the army was in Carthage and the other cities, while all the rest were arrayed with the tyrant against the Romans. He did not, therefore, begin any fighting, but bestowed the greatest care upon his army. And considering that those left in Carthage were the kinsmen or tentmates of the enemy, he kept addressing many winning words to all, and in particular said that he had himself been sent by the emperor to Libya in order to defend the soldiers who had been wronged and to punish those who had unprovoked done them any injury. And when this was found out by the mutineers, they began to come over to him a few at a time. And Germanus both received them into the city in a friendly manner and, giving pledges, held them in honour, and he gave them their pay for the time during which they had been in arms against the Romans. And when the report of these acts was circulated and came to all, they began now to detach themselves in large numbers from the tyrant and to march to Carthage. Then at last Germanus, hoping that in the battle he would be evenly matched in strength with his opponents, began to make preparations for the conflict. But in the meantime Stotzas, already perceiving the trouble, and fearing lest by the defection of still others of his soldiers the army should be reduced still more, was pressing for a decisive encounter immediately and trying to take hold of the war with more vigour. And since he had some hope regarding the soldiers in Carthage, that they would come over to him, and thought that they would readily desert if he came near them, he held out the hope to all his men; and after encouraging them exceedingly in this way, he advanced swiftly with his whole army against Carthage. And when he had come within thirty-five stades of the city, he made camp not far from the sea, and Germanus, after arming his whole army and arraying them for battle, marched forth. And when they were all outside the city, since he had heard what Stotzas was hoping for, he called together the whole army and spoke as follows: "That there is nothing, fellow-soldiers, with which you can justly reproach the emperor, and no fault which you can find with what he has done to you, this, I think, no one of you all could deny; for it was he who took you as you came from the fields with your wallets and one small frock apiece and brought you together in Byzantium, and has caused you to be so powerful that the Roman state now depends upon you. And that he has not only been treated with wanton insult, but has also suffered the most dreadful of all things at your hands, you yourselves, doubtless, know full well. And desiring that you should preserve the memory of these things for ever, he has dismissed the accusations brought against you for your crimes, asking that this debt alone be due to him from you--shame for what you have done. It is reasonable, therefore, that you, being thus regarded by him, should learn anew the lesson of good faith and correct your former folly. For when repentance comes at the fitting time upon those who have done wrong, it is accustomed to make those who have been injured indulgent; and service which comes in season is wont to bring another name to those who have been called ungrateful. "And it will be needful for you to know well this also, that if at the present time you shew yourselves completely loyal to the emperor, no remembrance will remain of what has gone before. For in the nature of things every course of action is characterized by men in accordance with its final outcome; and while a wrong which has once been committed can never be undone in all time, still, when it has been corrected by better deeds on the part of those who committed it, it receives the fitting reward of silence and generally comes to be forgotten. Moreover, if you act with any disregard of duty toward these accursed rascals at the present time, even though afterwards you fight through many wars in behalf of the Romans and often win the victory over the enemy, you will never again be regarded as having requited the emperor as you can requite him to-day. For those who win applause in the very matter of their former wrong-doing always gain for themselves a fairer apology. As regards the emperor, then, let each one of you reason in some such way. But as for me, I have not voluntarily done you any injustice, and I have displayed my good-will to you by all possible means, and now, facing this danger, I have decided to ask this much of you all: let no man advance with us against the enemy contrary to his judgement. But if anyone of you is already desirous of arraying himself with them, without delay let him go with his weapons to the enemy's camp, granting us this one favour, that it be not stealthily, but openly, that he has decided to do us wrong. Indeed, it is for this reason that I am making my speech, not in Carthage, but after coming on the battle-field, in order that I might not be an obstacle to anyone who desires to desert to our opponents, since it is possible for all without danger to shew their disposition toward the state." Thus spoke Germanus. And a great uproar ensued in the Roman army, for each one demanded the right to be the first to display to the general his loyalty to the emperor and to swear the most dread oaths in confirmation. XVII Now for some time the two armies remained in position opposite each other. But when the mutineers saw that nothing of what Stotzas had foretold was coming to pass, they began to be afraid as having been unexpectedly cheated of their hope, and they broke their ranks and withdrew, and marched off to Numidia, where were their women and the money from their booty. And Germanus too came there with the whole army not long afterwards, having made all preparations in the best way possible and also bringing along many wagons for the army. And overtaking his opponents in a place which the Romans call Scalae Veteres, he made his preparations for battle in the following manner. Placing the wagons in line facing the front, he arrayed all the infantry along them under the leadership of Domnicus, so that by reason of having their rear in security they might fight with the greater courage. And the best of the horsemen and those who had come with him from Byzantium he himself had on the left of the infantry, while all the others he placed on the right wing, not marshalled in one body but in three divisions. And Ildiger led one of them, Theodoras the Cappadocian another, while the remaining one, which was larger, was commanded by John, the brother of Pappus, with three others. Thus did the Romans array themselves. And the mutineers took their stand opposite them, not in order, however, but scattered, more in the manner of barbarians. And at no great distance many thousands of Moors followed them, who were commanded by a number of leaders, and especially by Iaudas and Ortaïas. But not all of them, as it happened, were faithful to Stotzas and his men, for many had sent previously to Germanus and agreed that, when they came into the fight, they would array themselves with the emperor's army against the enemy. However, Germanus could not trust them altogether, for the Moorish nation is by nature faithless to all men. It was for this reason also that they did not array themselves with the mutineers, but remained behind, waiting for what would come to pass, in order that with those who should be victorious they might join in the pursuit of the vanquished. Such was the purpose, then, of the Moors, in following behind and not mingling with the mutineers. And when Stotzas came close to the enemy and saw the standard of Germanus, he exhorted his men and began to charge against him. But the mutinous Eruli who were arrayed about him did not follow and even tried with all their might to prevent him, saying that they did not know the character of the forces of Germanus, but that they did know that those arrayed on the enemy's right would by no means withstand them. If, therefore, they should advance against these, they would not only give way themselves and turn to flight, but would also, in all probability, throw the rest of the Roman army into confusion; but if they should attack Germanus and be driven back and put to rout, their whole cause would be ruined on the spot. And Stotzas was persuaded by these words, and permitted the others to fight with the men of Germanus, while he himself with the best men went against John and those arrayed with him. And they failed to withstand the attack and hastened to flee in complete disorder. And the mutineers took all their standards immediately, and pursued them as they fled at top speed, while some too charged upon the infantry, who had already begun to abandon their ranks. But at this juncture Germanus himself, drawing his sword and urging the whole of that part of the army to do the same, with great difficulty routed the mutineers opposed to him and advanced on the run against Stotzas. And then, since he was joined in this effort by the men of Ildiger and Theodorus, the two armies mingled with each other in such a way that, while the mutineers were pursuing some of their enemy, they were being overtaken and killed by others. And as the confusion became greater and greater, the troops of Germanus, who were in the rear, pressed on still more, and the mutineers, falling into great fear, thought no longer of resistance. But neither side could be distinguished either by their own comrades or by their opponents. For all used one language and the same equipment of arms, and they differed neither in figure nor in dress nor in any other thing whatever. For this reason the soldiers of the emperor by the advice of Germanus, whenever they captured anyone, asked who he was; and then, if he said that he was a soldier of Germanus, they bade him give the watchword of Germanus, and if he was not at all able to give this, they killed him instantly. In this struggle one of the enemy got by unnoticed and killed the horse of Germanus, and Germanus himself fell to the ground and came into danger, and would have been lost had not his guards quickly saved him by forming an enclosure around him and mounting him on another horse. As for Stotzas, he succeeded in this tumult in escaping with a few men. But Germanus, urging on his men, went straight for the enemy's camp. There he was encountered by those of the mutineers who had been stationed to guard the stockade. A stubborn fight took place around its entrance, and the mutineers came within a little of forcing back their opponents, but Germanus sent some of his followers and bade them make trial of the camp at another point. These men, since no one was defending the camp at this place, got inside the stockade with little trouble. And the mutineers, upon seeing them, rushed off in flight, and Germanus with all the rest of the army dashed into the enemy's camp. There the soldiers, finding it easy to plunder the goods of the camp, neither took any account of the enemy nor paid any further heed to the exhortations of their general, since booty was at hand. For this reason Germanus, fearing lest the enemy should get together and come upon them, himself with some few men took his stand at the entrance of the stockade, uttering many laments and urging his unheeding men to return to good order. And many of the Moors, when the rout had taken place in this way, were now pursuing the mutineers, and, arraying themselves with the emperor's troops, were plundering the camp of the vanquished. But Stotzas, at first having confidence in the Moorish army, rode to them in order to renew the battle. But perceiving what was being done, he fled with a hundred men, and succeeded with difficulty in making his escape. And once more many gathered about him and attempted to engage with the enemy, but being repulsed no less decisively than before, if not even more so, they all came over to Germanus. And Stotzas alone with some few Vandals withdrew to Mauretania, and taking to wife the daughter of one of the rulers, remained there. And this was the conclusion of that mutiny. XVIII Now there was among the body-guards of Theodorus, the Cappadocian, a certain Maximinus, an exceedingly base man. This Maximinus had first got a very large number of the soldiers to join with him in a conspiracy against the government, and was now purposing to attempt a tyranny. And being eager to associate with himself still more men, he explained the project to others and especially to Asclepiades, a native of Palestine, who was a man of good birth and the first of the personal friends of Theodorus. Now Asclepiades, after conversing with Theodorus, straightway reported the whole matter to Germanus. And he, not wishing as yet, while affairs were still unsettled, to begin any other disturbance, decided to get the best of the man by cajoling and flattering him rather than by punishment, and to bind him by oaths to loyalty toward the government. Accordingly, since it was an old custom among all Romans that no one should become a body-guard of one of the commanders, unless he had previously taken the most dread oaths and given pledges of his loyalty both toward his own commander and toward the Roman emperor, he summoned Maximinus, and praising him for his daring, directed him to be one of his body-guards from that time forth. And he, being overjoyed at the extraordinary honour, and conjecturing that his project would in this way get on more easily, took the oath, and though from that time forth he was counted among the body-guards of Germanus, he did not hesitate to disregard his oaths immediately and to strengthen much more than ever his plans to achieve the tyranny. Now the whole city was celebrating some general festival, and many of the conspirators of Maximinus at about the time of lunch came according to their agreement to the palace, where Germanus was entertaining his friends at a feast, and Maximinus took his stand beside the couches with the other body-guards. And as the drinking proceeded, someone entered and announced to Germanus that many soldiers were standing in great disorder before the door of the court, putting forward the charge that the government owed them their pay for a long period. And he commanded the most trusty of the guards secretly to keep close watch over Maximinus, allowing him in no way to perceive what was being done. Then the conspirators with threats and tumult proceeded on the run to the hippodrome, and those who shared their plan with them gathered gradually from the houses and were assembling there. And if it had so chanced that all of them had come together, no one, I think, would have been able easily to destroy their power; but, as it was, Germanus anticipated this, and, before the greater part had yet arrived, he straightway sent against them all who were well-disposed to himself and to the emperor. And they attacked the conspirators before they expected them. And then, since Maximinus, for whom they were waiting to begin the battle for them, was not with them, and they did not see the crowd gathered to help them, as they had thought it would be, but instead even beheld their fellow-soldiers unexpectedly fighting against them, they consequently lost heart and were easily overcome in the struggle and rushed off in flight and in complete disorder. And their opponents slew many of them, and they also captured many alive and brought them to Germanus. Those, however, who had not already come to the hippodrome gave no indication of their sentiment toward Maximinus. And Germanus did not see fit to go on and seek them out, but he enquired whether Maximinus, since he had sworn the oath, had taken part in the plot. And since it was proved that, though numbered among his own body-guards he had carried on his designs still more than before, Germanus impaled him close by the fortifications of Carthage, and in this way succeeded completely in putting down the sedition. As for Maximinus, then, such was the end of his plot. XI [539-540 A.D.] And the emperor summoned Germanus together with Symmachus and Domnicus and again entrusted all Libya to Solomon, in the thirteenth year of his reign; and he provided him with an army and officers, among whom were Rufinus and Leontius, the sons of Zaunas the son of Pharesmanas, and John, the son of Sisiniolus. For Martinus and Valerianus had already before this gone under summons to Byzantium. And Solomon sailed to Carthage, and having rid himself of the sedition of Stotzas, he ruled with moderation and guarded Libya securely, setting the army in order, and sending to Byzantium and to Belisarius whatever suspicious elements he found in it, and enrolling new soldiers to equal their number, and removing those of the Vandals who were left and especially all their women from the whole of Libya. And he surrounded each city with a wall, and guarding the laws with great strictness, he restored the government completely. And Libya became under his rule powerful as to its revenues and prosperous in other respects. And when everything had been arranged by him in the best way possible, he again made an expedition against Iaudas and the Moors on Aurasium. And first he sent forward Gontharis, one of his own body-guards and an able warrior, with an army. Now Gontharis came to the Abigas River and made camp near Bagaïs, a deserted city. And there he engaged with the enemy, but was defeated in battle, and retiring to his stockade was already being hard pressed by the siege of the Moors. But afterwards Solomon himself arrived with his whole army, and when he was sixty stades away from the camp which Gontharis was commanding, he made a stockade and remained there; and hearing all that had befallen the force of Gontharis, he sent them a part of his army and bade them keep up the fight against the enemy with courage. But the Moors, having gained the upper hand in the engagement, as I have said, did as follows. The Abigas River flows from Aurasium, and descending into a plain, waters the land just as the men there desire. For the natives conduct this stream to whatever place they think it will best serve them at the moment, for in this plain there are many channels, into which the Abigas is divided, and entering all of them, it passes underground, and reappears again above the ground and gathers its stream together. This takes place over the greatest part of the plain and makes it possible for the inhabitants of the region, by stopping up the waterways with earth, or by again opening them, to make use of the waters of this river as they wish. So at that time the Moors shut off all the channels there and thus allowed the whole stream to flow about the camp of the Romans. As a result of this, a deep, muddy marsh formed there through which it was impossible to go; this terrified them exceedingly and reduced them to a state of helplessness. When this was heard by Solomon, he came quickly. But the barbarians, becoming afraid, withdrew to the foot of Aurasium. And in a place which they call Babosis they made camp and remained there. So Solomon moved with his whole army and came to that place. And upon engaging with the enemy, he defeated them decisively and turned them to flight. Now after this the Moors did not think it advisable for them to fight a pitched battle with the Romans; for they did not hope to overcome them in this kind of contest; but they did have hope, based on the difficult character of the country around Aurasium, that the Romans would in a short time give up by reason of the sufferings they would have to endure and would withdraw from there, just as they formerly had done. The most of them, therefore, went off to Mauretania and the barbarians to the south of Aurasium, but Iaudas with twenty thousand of the Moors remained there. And it happened that he had built a fortress on Aurasium, Zerboule by name. Into this he entered with all the Moors and remained quiet. But Solomon was by no means willing that time should be wasted in the siege, and learning that the plains about the city of Tamougade were full of grain just becoming ripe, he led his army into them, and settling himself there, began to plunder the land. Then, after firing everything, he returned again to the fortress of Zerboule. But during this time, while the Romans were plundering the land, Iaudas, leaving behind some of the Moors, about as many as he thought would be sufficient for the defence of the fortress, himself ascended to the summit of Aurasium with the rest of the army, not wishing to stand siege in the fort and have provisions fail his forces. And finding a high place with cliff's on all sides of it and concealed by perpendicular rocks, Toumar by name, he remained quietly there. And the Romans besieged the fortress of Zerboule for three days. And using their bows, since the wall was not high, they hit many of the barbarians upon the parapets. And by some chance it happened that all the leaders of the Moors were hit by these missiles and died. And when the three days' time had passed and night came on, the Romans, having learned nothing of the death of the leaders among the Moors, were planning to break up the siege. For it seemed better to Solomon to go against Iaudas and the multitude of the Moors, thinking that, if he should be able to capture that force by siege, the barbarians in Zerboule would with less trouble and difficulty yield to the Romans. But the barbarians, thinking that they could no longer hold out against the siege, since all their leaders had now been destroyed, decided to flee with all speed and abandon the fortress. Accordingly they fled immediately in silence and without allowing the enemy in any way to perceive it, and the Romans also at daybreak began to prepare for departure. And since no one appeared on the wall, although the besieging army was withdrawing, they began to wonder and fell into the greatest perplexity among themselves. And in this state of uncertainty they went around the fortress and found the gate open from which the Moors had departed in flight. And entering the fortress they treated everything as plunder, but they had no thought of pursuing the enemy, for they had set out with light equipment and were familiar with the country round about. And when they had plundered everything, they set guards over the fortress, and all moved forward on foot. XX And coming to the place Toumar, where the enemy had shut themselves in and were remaining quiet, they encamped near by in a bad position, where there would be no supply of water, except a little, nor any other necessary thing. And after much time had been spent and the barbarians did not come out against them at all, they themselves, no less than the enemy, if not even more, were hard pressed by the siege and began to be impatient. And more than anything else, they were distressed by the lack of water; this Solomon himself guarded, giving each day no more than a single cupful to each man. And since he saw that they were openly discontented and no longer able to bear their present hardships, he planned to make trial of the place, although it was difficult of access, and called all together and exhorted them as follows: "Since God has granted to the Romans to besiege the Moors on Aurasium, a thing which hitherto has been beyond hope and now, to such as do not see what is actually being done, is altogether incredible, it is necessary that we too should lend our aid to the help that has come from above, and not prove false to this favour, but undergoing the danger with enthusiasm, should reach after the good fortune which is to come from success. For in every case the turning of the scales of human affairs depends upon the moment of opportunity; but if a man, by wilful cowardice, is traitor to his fortune, he cannot justly blame it, having by his own action brought the guilt upon himself. Now as for the Moors, you see their weakness surely and the place in which they have shut themselves up and are keeping guard, deprived of all the necessities of life. And as for you, one of two things is necessary, either without feeling any vexation at the siege to await the surrender of the enemy, or, if you shrink from this, to accept the victory which goes with the danger. And fighting against these barbarians will be the more free from danger for us, inasmuch as they are already fighting with hunger and I think they will never even come to an engagement with us. Having these things in mind at the present time, it behooves you to execute all your orders with eagerness." After Solomon had made this exhortation, he looked about to see from what point it would be best for his men to make an attempt on the place, and for a long time he seemed to be in perplexity. For the difficult nature of the ground seemed to him quite too much to contend with. But while Solomon was considering this, chance provided a way for the enterprise as follows. There was a certain Gezon in the army, a foot-soldier, "optio"[56] of the detachment to which Solomon belonged; for thus the Romans call the paymaster. This Gezon, either in play or in anger, or perhaps even moved by some divine impulse, began to make the ascent alone, apparently going against the enemy, and not far from him went some of his fellow-soldiers, marvelling greatly at what he was doing. And three of the Moors, who had been stationed to guard the approach, suspecting that the man was coming against them, went on the run to confront him. But since they were in a narrow way, they did not proceed in orderly array, but each one went separately. And Gezon struck the first one who came upon him and killed him, and in this way he despatched each of the others. And when those in the rear perceived this, they advanced with much shouting and tumult against the enemy. And when the whole Roman army both heard and saw what was being done, without waiting either for the general to lead the way for them or for the trumpets to give the signal for battle, as was customary, nor indeed even keeping their order, but making a great uproar and urging one another on, they ran against the enemy's camp. There Rufinus and Leontius, the sons of Zaunas the son of Pharesmanes, made a splendid display of valorous deeds against the enemy. And by this the Moors were terror-stricken, and when they learned that their guards also had been destroyed, they straightway turned to flight where each one could, and the most of them were overtaken in the difficult ground and killed. And Iaudas himself, though struck by a javelin in the thigh, still made his escape and withdrew to Mauretania. But the Romans, after plundering the enemy's camp, decided not to abandon Aurasium again, but to guard fortresses which Solomon was to build there, so that this mountain might not be again accessible to the Moors. Now there is on Aurasium a perpendicular rock which rises in the midst of precipices; the natives call it the Rock of Geminianus; there the men of ancient times had built a tower, making it very small as a place of refuge, strong and unassailable, since the nature of the position assisted them. Here, as it happened, Iaudas had a few days previously deposited his money and his women, setting one old Moor in charge as guardian of the money. For he could never have suspected that the enemy would either reach this place, or that they could in all time capture the tower by force. But the Romans at that time, searching through the rough country of Aurasium, came there, and one of them, with a laugh, attempted to climb up to the tower; but the women began to taunt him, ridiculing him as attempting the impossible; and the old man, peering out from the tower, did the same thing. But when the Roman soldier, climbing with both hands and feet, had come near them, he drew his sword quietly and leaped forward as quickly as he could, and struck the old man a fair blow on the neck, and succeeded in cutting it through. And the head fell down to the ground, and the soldiers, now emboldened and holding to one another, ascended to the tower, and took out from there both the women and the money, of which there was an exceedingly great quantity. And by means of it Solomon surrounded many of the cities in Libya with walls. And after the Moors had retired from Numidia, defeated in the manner described, the land of Zabe, which is beyond Mt. Aurasium and is called "First Mauretania," whose metropolis is Sitiphis,[57] was added to the Roman empire by Solomon as a tributary province; for of the other Mauretania Caesarea is the first city, where was settled Mastigas[58] with his Moors, having the whole country there subject and tributary to him, except, indeed, the city of Caesarea. For this city Belisarius had previously recovered for the Romans, as has been set forth in the previous narrative[59]; and the Romans always journey to this city in ships, but they are not able to go by land, since Moors dwell in that country. And as a result of this all the Libyans who were subjects of the Romans, coming to enjoy secure peace and finding the rule of Solomon wise and very moderate, and having no longer any thought of hostility in their minds, seemed the most fortunate of all men. XXI But in the fourth year after this it came about that all their blessings were turned to the opposite. [543-544 A.D.] For in the seventeenth year of the reign of the Emperor Justinian, Cyrus and Sergius, the sons of Bacchus, Solomon's brother, were assigned by the emperor to rule over the cities in Libya, Cyrus, the elder, to have Pentapolis,[60] and Sergius Tripolis. And the Moors who are called Leuathae came to Sergius with a great army at the city of Leptimagna,[61] spreading the report that the reason they had come was this, that Sergius might give them the gifts and insignia of office which were customary[62] and so make the peace secure. But Sergius, persuaded by Pudentius, a man of Tripolis, of whom I made mention in the preceding narrative[63] as having served the Emperor Justinian against the Vandals at the beginning of the Vandalic War, received eighty of the barbarians, their most notable men, into the city, promising to fulfil all their demands; but he commanded the rest to remain in the suburb. Then after giving these eighty men pledges concerning the peace, he invited them to a banquet. But they say that these barbarians had come into the city with treacherous intent, that they might lay a trap for Sergius and kill him. And when they came into conference with him, they called up many charges against the Romans, and in particular said that their crops had been plundered wrongfully. And Sergius, paying no heed to these things, rose from the seat on which he was sitting, with intent to go away. And one of the barbarians, laying hold upon his shoulder, attempted to prevent him from going. Then the others began to shout in confusion, and were already rushing together about him. But one of the body-guards of Sergius, drawing his sword, despatched that Moor. And as a result of this a great tumult, as was natural, arose in the room, and the guards of Sergius killed all the barbarians. But one of them, upon seeing the others being slain, rushed out of the house where these things were taking place, unnoticed by anyone, and coming to his tribemates, revealed what had befallen their fellows. And when they heard this, they betook themselves on the run to their own camp and together with all the others arrayed themselves in arms against the Romans. Now when they came near the city of Leptimagna, Sergius and Pudentius confronted them with their whole army. And the battle becoming a hand-to-hand fight, at first the Romans were victorious and slew many of the enemy, and, plundering their camp, secured their goods and enslaved an exceedingly great number of women and children. But afterwards Pudentius, being possessed by a spirit of reckless daring, was killed; and Sergius with the Roman army, since it was already growing dark, marched into Leptimagna. At a later time the barbarians took the field against the Romans with a greater array. And Sergius went to join his uncle Solomon, in order that he too might go to meet the enemy with a larger army; and he found there his brother Cyrus also. And the barbarians, coming into Byzacium, made raids and plundered a great part of the country there; and Antalas (whom I mentioned in the preceding narrative[64] as having remained faithful to the Romans and as being for this reason sole ruler of the Moors in Byzacium) had by now, as it happened, become hostile to Solomon, because Solomon had deprived him of the maintenance with which the emperor had honoured him and had killed his brother, charging him with responsibility for an uprising against the people of Byzacium. So at that time Antalas was pleased to see these barbarians, and making an offensive and defensive alliance with them, led them against Solomon and Carthage. And Solomon, as soon as he heard about this, put his whole army in motion and marched against them, and coming upon them at the city of Tebesta, distant six days' journey from Carthage, he established his camp in company with the sons of his brother Bacchus, Cyrus and Sergius and Solomon the younger. And fearing the multitude of the barbarians, he sent to the leaders of the Leuathae, reproaching them because, while at peace with the Romans, they had taken up arms and come against them, and demanding that they should confirm the peace existing between the two peoples, and he promised to swear the most dread oaths, that he would hold no remembrance of what they had done. But the barbarians, mocking his words, said that he would of course swear by the sacred writings of the Christians, which they are accustomed to call Gospels. Now since Sergius had once taken these oaths and then had slain those who trusted in them,[65] it was their desire to go into battle and make a test of these same sacred writings, to see what sort of power they had against the perjurers, in order that they might first have absolute confidence in them before they finally entered into the agreement. When Solomon heard this, he made his preparations for the combat. And on the following day he engaged with a portion of the enemy as they were bringing in a very large booty, conquered them in battle, seized all their booty and kept it under guard. And when the soldiers were dissatisfied and counted it an outrage that he did not give them the plunder, he said that he was awaiting the outcome of the war, in order that they might distribute everything then, according to the share that should seem to suit the merit of each. But when the barbarians advanced a second time, with their whole army, to give battle, this time some of the Romans stayed behind and the others entered the encounter with no enthusiasm. At first, then, the battle was evenly contested, but later, since the Moors were vastly superior by reason of their great numbers, the most of the Romans fled, and though Solomon and a few men about him held out for a time against the missiles of the barbarians, afterwards they were overpowered by the enemy, and fleeing in haste, reached a ravine made by a brook which flowed in that region. And there Solomon's horse stumbled and threw him to the ground, and his body-guards lifted him quickly in their arms and set him upon his horse. But overcome by great pain and unable to hold the reins longer, he was overtaken and killed by the barbarians, and many of his guards besides. Such was the end of Solomon's life. XXII After the death of Solomon, Sergius, who, as has been said, was his nephew, took over the government of Libya by gift of the emperor. And this man became the chief cause of great ruin to the people of Libya, and all were dissatisfied with his rule--the officers because, being exceedingly stupid and young both in character and in years, he proved to be the greatest braggart of all men, and he insulted them for no just cause and disregarded them, always using the power of his wealth and the authority of his office to this end; and the soldiers disliked him because he was altogether unmanly and weak; and the Libyans, not only for these reasons, but also because he had shown himself strangely fond of the wives and the possessions of others. But most of all John, the son of Sisiniolus, was hostile to the power of Sergius; for, though he was an able warrior and was a man of unusually fair repute, he found Sergius absolutely ungrateful. For this reason neither he nor anyone else at all was willing to take up arms against the enemy. But almost all the Moors were following Antalas, and Stotzas came at his summons from Mauretania. And since not one of the enemy came out against them, they began to sack the country, making plunder of everything without fear. At that time Antalas sent to the Emperor Justinian a letter, which set forth the following: "That I am a slave of thy empire not even I myself would deny, but the Moors, having suffered unholy treatment at the hands of Solomon in time of peace, have taken up arms under the most severe constraint, not lifting them against thee, but warding off our personal enemy; and this is especially true of me. For he not only decided to deprive me of the maintenance, which Belisarius long before specified and thou didst grant, but he also killed my own brother, although he had no wrongdoing to charge against him. We have therefore taken vengeance upon him who wronged us. And if it is thy will that the Moors be in subjection to thy empire and serve it in all things as they are accustomed to do, command Sergius, the nephew of Solomon, to depart from here and return to thee, and send another general to Libya. For thou wilt not be lacking in men of discretion and more worthy than Sergius in every way; for as long as this man commands thy army, it is impossible for peace to be established between the Romans and the Moors." Such was the letter written by Antalas. But the emperor, even after reading these things and learning the common enmity of all toward Sergius, was still unwilling to remove him from his office, out of respect for the virtues of Solomon and especially the manner of his death. Such, then, was the course of these events. But Solomon, the brother of Sergius, who was supposed to have disappeared from the world together with his uncle Solomon, was forgotten by his brother and by the rest as well; for no one had learned that he was alive. But the Moors, as it happened, had taken him alive, since he was very young; and they enquired of him who he was. And he said that he was a Vandal by birth, and a slave of Solomon. He said, moreover, that he had a friend, a physician, Pegasius by name, in the city of Laribus near by, who would purchase him by giving ransom. So the Moors came up close to the fortifications of the city and called Pegasius and displayed Solomon to him, and asked whether it was his pleasure to purchase the man. And since he agreed to purchase him, they sold Solomon to him for fifty pieces of gold. But upon getting inside the fortifications, Solomon taunted the Moors as having been deceived by him, a mere lad; for he said that he was no other than Solomon, the son of Bacchus and nephew of Solomon. And the Moors, being deeply stung by what had happened, and counting it a terrible thing that, while having a strong security for the conduct of Sergius and the Romans, they had relinquished it so carelessly, came to Laribus and laid siege to the place, in order to capture Solomon with the city. And the besieged, in terror at being shut in by the barbarians, for they had not even carried in provisions, as it happened, opened negotiations with the Moors, proposing that upon receiving a great sum of money they should straightway abandon the siege. Whereupon the barbarians, thinking that they could never take the city by force--for the Moors are not at all practised in the storming of walls--and at the same time not knowing that provisions were scarce for the besieged, welcomed their words, and when they had received three thousand pieces of gold, they abandoned the siege, and all the Leuathae retired homeward. XXIII But Antalas and the army of the Moors were gathering again in Byzacium and Stotzas was with them, having some few soldiers and Vandals. And John, the son of Sisiniolus, being earnestly entreated by the Libyans, gathered an army and marched against them. Now Himerius, the Thracian, was commander of the troops in Byzacium, and at that time he was ordered by John to bring with him all the troops there, together with the commanders of each detachment, and come to a place called Menephesse, which is in Byzacium, and join his force there. But later, upon hearing that the enemy were encamped there, John wrote to Himerius telling what had happened and directing him to unite with his forces at another place, that they might not go separately, but all together, to encounter the enemy. But by some chance those who had this letter, making use of another road, were quite unable to find Himerius, and he together with his army, coming upon the camp of the enemy, fell into their hands. Now there was in this Roman army a certain youth, Severianus, son of Asiaticus, a Phoenician and a native of Emesa, commanding a detachment of horse. This man alone, together with the soldiers under him, fifty in number, engaged with the enemy. And for some time they held out, but later, being overpowered by the great multitude, they ran to the top of a hill in the neighbourhood on which there was also a fort, but one which offered no security. For this reason they surrendered themselves to their opponents when they ascended the hill to attack them. And the Moors killed neither him nor any of the soldiers, but they made prisoners of the whole force; and Himerius they kept under guard, and handed over his soldiers to Stotzas, since they agreed with great readiness to march with the rebels against the Romans; Himerius, however, they threatened with death, if he should not carry out their commands. And they commanded him to put into their hands by some device the city of Hadrumetum on the sea. And since he declared that he was willing, they went with him against Hadrumetum. And upon coming near the city, they sent Himerius a little in advance with some of the soldiers of Stotzas, dragging along, as it seemed, some Moors in chains, and they themselves followed behind. And they directed Himerius to say to those in command of the gates of the city that the emperor's army had won a decisive victory, and that John would come very soon, bringing an innumerable multitude of Moorish captives; and when in this manner the gates had been opened to them, he was to get inside the fortifications together with those who went with him. And he carried out these instructions. And the citizens of Hadrumetum, being deceived in this way (for they could not distrust the commander of all the troops in Byzacium), opened wide the gates and received the enemy. Then, indeed, those who had entered with Himerius drew their swords and would not allow the guards there to shut the gates again, but straightway received the whole army of the Moors into the city. And the barbarians, after plundering it and establishing there some few guards, departed. And of the Romans who had been captured some few escaped and came to Carthage, among whom were Severianus and Himerius. For it was not difficult for those who wished it to make their escape from Moors. And many also, not at all unwillingly, remained with Stotzas. Not long after this one of the priests, Paulus by name, who had been appointed to take charge of the sick, in conferring with some of the nobles, said: "I myself shall journey to Carthage and I am hopeful that I shall return quickly with an army, and it will be your care to receive the emperor's forces into the city." So they attached some ropes to him and let him down by night from the fortifications, and he, coming to the sea-shore and happening upon a fishing-vessel which was thereabouts, won over the masters of this boat by great sums of money and sailed off to Carthage. And when he had landed there and come into the presence of Sergius, he told the whole story and asked him to give him a considerable army in order to recover Hadrumetum. And since this by no means pleased Sergius, inasmuch as the army in Carthage was not great, the priest begged him to give him some few soldiers, and receiving not more than eighty men, he formed the following plan. He collected a large number of boats and skiffs and embarked on them many sailors and Libyans also, clad in the garments which the Roman soldiers are accustomed to wear. And setting off with the whole fleet, he sailed at full speed straight for Hadrumetum. And when he had come close to it, he sent some men stealthily and declared to the notables of the city that Germanus, the emperor's nephew, had recently come to Carthage, and had sent a very considerable army to the citizens of Hadrumetum. And he bade them take courage at this and open for them one small gate that night. And they carried out his orders. Thus Paulus with his followers got inside the fortifications, and he slew all the enemy and recovered Hadrumetum for the emperor; and the rumour about Germanus, beginning there, went even to Carthage. And the Moors, as well as Stotzas and his followers, upon hearing this, at first became terrified and went off in flight to the extremities of Libya, but later, upon learning the truth, they counted it a terrible thing that they, after sparing all the citizens of Hadrumetum, had suffered such things at their hands. For this reason they made raids everywhere and wrought unholy deeds upon the Libyans, sparing no one whatever his age, and the land became at that time for the most part depopulated. For of the Libyans who had been left some fled into the cities and some to Sicily and the other islands. But almost all the notables came to Byzantium, among whom was Paulus also, who had recovered Hadrumetum for the emperor. And the Moors with still less fear, since no one came out against them, were plundering everything, and with them Stotzas, who was now powerful. For many Roman soldiers were following him, some who had come as deserters, and others who had been in the beginning captives but now remained with him of their own free will. And John, who was indeed a man of some reputation among the Moors, was remaining quiet because of the extreme hostility he had conceived against Sergius. XXIV At this time the emperor sent to Libya, with some few soldiers, another general, Areobindus, a man of the senate and of good birth, but not at all skilled in matters of warfare. And he sent with him Athanasius, a prefect, who had come recently from Italy, and some few Armenians led by Artabanes and John, sons of John, of the line of the Arsacidae,[66] who had recently left the Persian army and as deserters had come back to the Romans, together with the other Armenians. And with Areobindus was his sister and Prejecta, his wife, who was the daughter of Vigilantia, the sister of the Emperor Justinian. The emperor, however, did not recall Sergius, but commanded both him and Areobindus to be generals of Libya, dividing the country and the detachments of soldiers between them. And he enjoined upon Sergius to carry on the war against the barbarians in Numidia, and upon Areobindus to direct his operations constantly against the Moors in Byzacium. And when this expedition lauded at Carthage, Sergius departed forthwith for Numidia with his own army, and Areobindus, upon learning that Antalas and Stotzas were encamped near the city of Siccaveneria, which is three days' journey distant from Carthage, commanded John, the son of Sisiniolus, to go against them, choosing out whatever was best of the army; and he wrote to Sergius to unite with the forces of John, in order that they might all with one common force engage with the enemy. Now Sergius decided to pay no heed to the message and have nothing to do with this affair, and John with a small army was compelled to engage with an innumerable host of the enemy. And there had always been great enmity between him and Stotzas, and each one used to pray that he might become the slayer of the other before departing from the world. At that time, accordingly, as soon as the fighting was about to come to close quarters, both rode out from their armies and came against each other. And John drew his bow, and, as Stotzas was still advancing, made a successful shot and hit him in the right groin, and Stotzas, mortally wounded, fell there, not yet dead, but destined to survive this wound only a little time. And all came up immediately, both the Moorish army and those who followed Stotzas, and placing Stotzas with little life in him against a tree, they advanced upon their enemy with great fury; and since they were far superior in numbers, they routed John and all the Romans with no difficulty. Then, indeed, they say, John remarked that death had now a certain sweetness for him, since his prayer regarding Stotzas had reached fulfilment. And there was a steep place near by, where his horse stumbled and threw him off. And as he was trying to leap upon the horse again, the enemy caught and killed him, a man who had shown himself great both in reputation and in valour. And Stotzas learned this and then died, remarking only that now it was most sweet to die. In this battle John, the Armenian, brother of Artabanes, also died, after making a display of valorous deeds against the enemy. And the emperor, upon hearing this, was very deeply grieved because of the valour of John; and thinking it inexpedient for the two generals to administer the province, he immediately recalled Sergius and sent him to Italy with an army, and gave over the whole power of Libya to Areobindus. XXV And two months after Sergius had departed from there, Gontharis essayed to set up a tyranny in the following manner. He himself, as it happened, was commanding the troops in Numidia and spending his time there for that reason, but he was secretly treating with the Moors that they might march against Carthage. Forthwith, therefore, an army of the enemy, having been gathered into one place from Numidia and Byzacium, went with great zeal against Carthage. And the Numidians were commanded by Coutzinas and Iaudas, and the men of Byzacium by Antalas. And with him was also John, the tyrant, and his followers; for the mutineers, after the death of Stotzas, had set him up as ruler over themselves. And when Areobindus learned of their attack, he summoned to Carthage a number of the officers with their men, and among them Gontharis. And he was joined also by Artabanes and the Armenians. Areobindus, accordingly, bade Gontharis lead the whole army against the enemy. And Gontharis, though he had promised to serve him zealously in the war, proceeded to act as follows. One of his servants, a Moor by birth and a cook by trade, he commanded to go to the enemy's camp, and to make it appear to all others that he had run away from his master, but to tell Antalas secretly that Gontharis wished to share with him the rule of Libya. So the cook carried out these directions, and Antalas heard the word gladly, but made no further reply than to say that worthy enterprises are not properly brought to pass among men by cooks. When this was heard by Gontharis, he immediately sent to Antalas one of his body-guards, Ulitheus by name, whom he had found especially trustworthy in his service, inviting him to come as close as possible to Carthage. For, if this were done, he promised him to put Areobindus out of the way. So Ulitheus without the knowledge of the rest of the barbarians made an agreement with Antalas that he, Antalas, should rule Byzacium, having half the possessions of Areobindus and taking with him fifteen hundred Roman soldiers, while Gontharis should assume the dignity of king, holding the power over Carthage and the rest of Libya. And after settling these matters he returned to the Roman camp, which they had made entirely in front of the circuit-wall, distributing among themselves the guarding of each gate. And the barbarians not long afterwards proceeded straight for Carthage in great haste, and they made camp and remained in the place called Decimum.[67] And departing from there on the following day, they were moving forward. But some of the Roman army encountered them, and engaging with them unexpectedly, slew a small number of the Moors. But these were straightway called back by Gontharis, who rebuked them for acting with reckless daring and for being willing to give the Romans foreknowledge of the danger into which they were thrown. But in the meantime Areobindus sent to Coutzinas secretly and began to treat with him with regard to turning traitor. And Coutzinas promised him that, as soon as they should begin the action, he would turn against Antalas and the Moors of Byzacium. For the Moors keep faith neither with any other men nor with each other. This Areobindus reported to Gontharis. And he, wishing to frustrate the enterprise by having it postponed, advised Areobindus by no means to have faith in Coutzinas, unless he should receive from him his children as hostages. So Areobindus and Coutzinas, constantly sending secret messages to each other, were busying themselves with the plot against Antalas. And Gontharis sent Ulitheus once more and made known to Antalas what was being done. And he decided not to make any charges against Coutzinas nor did he allow him to know that he had discovered the plot, nor indeed did he disclose anything of what had been agreed upon by himself and Gontharis. But though enemies and hostile at heart to one another, they were arrayed together with treacherous intent, and each of them was marching with the other against his own particular friend. With such purposes Coutzinas and Antalas were leading the Moorish army against Carthage. And Gontharis was intending to kill Areobindus, but, in order to avoid the appearance of aiming at sole power, he wished to do this secretly in battle, in order that it might seem that the plot had been made by others against the general, and that he had been compelled by the Roman army to assume command over Libya. Accordingly he circumvented Areobindus by deceit, and persuaded him to go out against the enemy and engage with them, now that they had already come close to Carthage. He decided, therefore, that on the following day he would lead the whole army against the enemy at sunrise. But Areobindus, being very inexperienced in this matter and reluctant besides, kept holding back for no good reason. For while considering how he should put on his equipment of arms and armour, and making the other preparations for the sally, he wasted the greatest part of the day. He accordingly put off the engagement to the following day and remained quiet. But Gontharis, suspecting that he had hesitated purposely, as being aware of what was being done, decided openly to accomplish the murder of the general and make his attempt at the tyranny. XXVI And on the succeeding day he proceeded to act as follows. Opening wide the gates where he himself kept guard, he placed huge rocks under them, that no one might be able easily to shut them, and he placed armoured men with bows in their hands about the parapet in great numbers, and he himself, having put on his breastplate, took his stand between the gates. And his purpose in doing this was not that he might receive the Moors into the city; for the Moors, being altogether fickle, are suspicious of all men. And it is not unnatural that they are so; for whoever is by nature treacherous toward his neighbours is himself unable to trust anyone at all, but he is compelled to be suspicious of all men, since he estimates the character of his neighbour by his own mind. For this reason, then, Gontharis did not hope that even the Moors would trust him and come inside the circuit-wall, but he made this move in order that Areobindus, falling into great fear, might straightway rush off in flight, and, abandoning Carthage as quickly as he could, might betake himself to Byzantium. And he would have been right in his expectation had not winter come on just then and frustrated his plan. [544-545 A.D.] And Areobindus, learning what was being done, summoned Athanasius and some of the notables. And Artabanes also came to him from the camp with two others and he urged Areobindus neither to lose heart nor to give way to the daring of Gontharis, but to go against him instantly with all his men and engage him in battle, before any further trouble arose. At first, then, Areobindus sent to Gontharis one of his friends, Phredas by name, and commanded him to test the other's purpose. And when Phredas returned and reported that Gontharis by no means denied his intention of seizing the supreme power, he purposed immediately to go against him arrayed for battle. But in the meantime Gontharis slandered Areobindus to the soldiers, saying that he was a coward and not only possessed with fear of the enemy, but at the same time quite unwilling to give them, his soldiers, their pay, and that he was planning to run away with Anastasius and that they were about to sail very soon from Mandracium[68], in order that the soldiers, fighting both with hunger and with the Moors, might be destroyed; and he enquired whether it was their wish to arrest both and keep them under guard. For thus he hoped either that Areobindus, perceiving the tumult, would turn to flight, or that he would be captured by the soldiers and ruthlessly put to death. Moreover he promised that he himself would advance to the soldiers money of his own, as much as the government owed them. And they were approving his words and were possessed with great wrath against Areobindus, but while this was going on Areobindus together with Artabanes and his followers came there. And a battle took place on the parapet and below about the gate where Gontharis had taken his stand, and neither side was worsted. And all were about to gather from the camps, as many as were well disposed to the emperor, and capture the mutineers by force. For Gontharis had not as yet deceived all, but the majority remained still uncorrupted in mind. But Areobindus, seeing then for the first time the killing of men (for he had not yet, as it happened, become acquainted with this sight), was terror-stricken and, turning coward, fled, unable to endure what he saw. Now there is a temple inside the fortifications of Carthage hard by the sea-shore, the abode of men who are very exact in their practice of religion, whom we have always been accustomed to call "monks"; this temple had been built by Solomon not long before, and he had surrounded it with a wall and rendered it a very strong fortress. And Areobindus, fleeing for refuge, rushed into the monastery, where he had already sent his wife and sister. Then Artabanes too ran away, and all the rest withdrew from Carthage as each one could. And Gontharis, having taken the city by assault, with the mutineers took possession of the palace, and was already guarding both the gates and the harbour most carefully. First, then, he summoned Athanasius, who came to him without delay, and by using much flattery Athanasius made it appear that what had been done pleased him exceedingly. And after this Gontharis sent the priest of the city and commanded Areobindus, after receiving pledges, to come to the palace, threatening that he would besiege him if he disobeyed and would not again give him pledges of safety, but would use every means to capture and put him to death. So the priest, Reparatus, stoutly declared to Areobindus that in accordance with the decision of Gontharis he would swear that no harm would come to him from Gontharis, telling also what he had threatened in case he did not obey. But Areobindus became afraid and agreed that he would follow the priest immediately, if the priest, after performing the rite of the sacred bath[69] in the usual manner, should swear to him by that rite and then give him pledges for his safety. So the priest did according to this. And Areobindus without delay followed him, clad in a garment which was suitable neither for a general nor for any one else in military service, but altogether appropriate to a slave or one of private station; this garment the Romans call "casula"[70] in the Latin tongue. And when they came near the palace, he took in his hands the holy scriptures from the priest, and so went before Gontharis. And falling prone he lay there a long time, holding out to him the suppliant olive-branch and the holy scriptures, and with him was the child which had been counted worthy of the sacred bath by which the priest had given him the pledge, as has been told. And when, with difficulty, Gontharis had raised him to his feet, he enquired of Gontharis in the name of all things holy whether his safety was secure. And Gontharis now bade him most positively to be of good cheer, for he would suffer no harm at his hands, but on the following day would be gone from Carthage with his wife and his possessions. Then he dismissed the priest Reparatus, and bade Areobindus and Athanasius dine with him in the palace. And during the dinner he honoured Areobindus, inviting him to take his place first on the couch; but after the dinner he did not let him go, but compelled him to sleep in a chamber alone; and he sent there Ulitheus with certain others to assail him. And while he was wailing and crying aloud again and again and speaking many entreating words to them to move them to pity, they slew him. Athanasius, however, they spared, passing him by, I suppose, on account of his advanced age. XXVII And on the following day Gontharis sent the head of Areobindus to Antalas, but decided to deprive him of the money and of the soldiers. Antalas, therefore, was outraged, because he was not carrying out anything of what had been agreed with him, and at the same time, upon considering what Gontharis had sworn and what he had done to Areobindus, he was incensed. For it did not seem to him that one who had disregarded such oaths would ever be faithful either to him or to anyone else at all. So after considering the matter long with himself, he was desirous of submitting to the Emperor Justinian; for this reason, then, he marched back. And learning that Marcentius, who commanded the troops in Byzacium, had fled to one of the islands which lie off the coast, he sent to him, and telling him the whole story and giving pledges, persuaded him by kind words to come to him. And Marcentius remained with Antalas in the camp, while the soldiers who were on duty in Byzacium, being well disposed to the emperor, were guarding the city of Hadrumetum. But the soldiers of Stotzas, being not less than a thousand, perceiving what was being done, went in great haste, with John leading them, to Gontharis; and he gladly received them into the city. Now there were five hundred Romans and about eighty Huns, while all the rest were Vandals. And Artabanes, upon receiving pledges, went up to the palace with his Armenians, and promised to serve the tyrant according to his orders. But secretly he was purposing to destroy Gontharis, having previously communicated this purpose to Gregorius, his nephew, and to Artasires, his body-guard. And Gregorius, urging him on to the undertaking, spoke as follows: "Artabanes, the opportunity is now at hand for you, and you alone, to win the glory of Belisarius--nay more, even to surpass that glory by far. For he came here, having received from the emperor a most formidable army and great sums of money, having officers accompanying him and advisers in great numbers, and a fleet of ships whose like we have never before heard tell of, and numerous cavalry, and arms, and everything else, to put it in a word, prepared for him in a manner worthy of the Roman empire. And thus equipped he won back Libya for the Romans with much toil. But all these achievements have so completely come to naught, that they are, at this moment, as if they had never been--except indeed, that there is at present left to the Romans from the victory of Belisarius the losses they have suffered in lives and in money, and, in addition, that they are no longer able even to guard the good things they won. But the winning back of all these things for the emperor now depends upon the courage and judgment and right hand of you alone. Therefore consider that you are of the house of the Arsacidae by ancient descent, and remember that it is seemly for men of noble birth to play the part of brave men always and in all places. Now many remarkable deeds have been performed by you in behalf of freedom. For when you were still young, you slew Acacius,[71] the ruler of the Armenians, and Sittas,[72] the general of the Romans, and as a result of this becoming known to the king Chosroes, you campaigned with him against the Romans. And since you have reached so great a station that it devolves upon you not to allow the Roman power to lie subject to a drunken dog, show at this time that it was by reason of noble birth and a valorous heart that at the former time, good sir, you performed those deeds; and I as well as Artasires here will assist you in everything, so far as we have the power, in accordance with your commands." So spoke Gregorius; and he excited the mind of Artabanes still more against the tyrant. But Gontharis, bringing out the wife and the sister of Areobindus from the fortress, compelled them to remain at a certain house, showing them no insult by any word or deed whatsoever, nor did they have provisions in any less measure than they needed, nor were they compelled to say or to do anything except, indeed, that Prejecta was forced to write to her uncle[73] that Gontharis was honouring them exceedingly and that he was altogether guiltless of the murder of her husband, and that the base deed had been done by Ulitheus, Gontharis by no means approving. And Gontharis was persuaded to do this by Pasiphilus, a man who had been foremost among the mutineers in Byzacium, and had assisted Gontharis very greatly in his effort to establish the tyranny. For Pasiphilus maintained that, if he should do this, the emperor would marry the young woman to him, and in view of his kinship with her would give also a, dowry of a large sum of money. And Gontharis commanded Artabanes to lead the army against Antalas and the Moors in Byzacium. For Coutzinas, having quarrelled with Antalas, had separated from him openly and allied himself with Gontharis; and he gave Gontharis his son and his mother as hostages. So the army, under the leadership of Artabanes, proceeded immediately against Antalas. And with Artabanes was John also, the commander of the mutineers of Stotzas, and Ulitheus, the body-guard of Gontharis; and there were Moors also following him, led by Coutzinas. And after passing by the city of Hadrumetum, they came upon their opponents somewhere near there, and making a camp a little apart from the enemy, they passed the night. And on the day after that John and Ulitheus, with a detachment of the army, remained there, while Artabanes and Coutzinas led their army against their opponents. And the Moors under Antalas did not withstand their attack and rushed off in flight. But Artabanes of a sudden wilfully played the coward, and turning his standard about marched off towards the rear. For this reason Ulitheus was purposing to kill him when he came into the camp. But Artabanes, by way of excusing himself, said he feared lest Marcentius, coming to assist the enemy from the city of Hadrumetum, where he then happened to be, would do his forces irreparable harm; but Gontharis, he said, ought to march against the enemy with the whole army. And at first he considered going to Hadrumetum with his followers and uniting with the emperor's forces. But after long deliberation it seemed to him better to put Gontharis out of the world and thus free both the emperor and Libya from a difficult situation. Returning, accordingly, to Carthage, he reported to the tyrant that he would need a larger army to meet the enemy. And Gontharis, after conferring with Pasiphilus, consented, indeed, to equip his whole army, but purposed to place a guard in Carthage, and in person to lead the army against the enemy. Each day, therefore, he was destroying many men toward whom he felt any suspicion, even though groundless. And he gave orders to Pasiphilus, whom he was intending to appoint in charge of the garrison of Carthage, to kill all the Greeks[74] without any consideration. XXVIII And after arranging everything else in the very best way, as it seemed to him, Gontharis decided to entertain his friends at a banquet, with the intention of making his departure on the following day. And in a room where there were in readiness three couches which had been there from ancient times, he made the banquet. So he himself reclined, as was natural, upon the first couch, where were also Athanasius and Artabanes, and some of those known to Gontharis, and Peter, a Thracian by birth, who had previously been a body-guard of Solomon. And on both the other couches were the first and noblest of the Vandals. John, however, who commanded the mutineers of Stotzas; was entertained by Pasiphilus in his own house, and each of the other leaders wherever it suited the several friends of Gontharis to entertain them. Artabanes, accordingly, when he was bidden to this banquet, thinking that this occasion furnished him a suitable opportunity for the murder of the tyrant, was planning to carry out his purpose. He therefore disclosed the matter to Gregorius and to Artasires and three other body-guards, bidding the body-guards get inside the hall with their swords (for when commanders are entertained at a banquet it is customary for their body-guards to stand behind them), and after getting inside to make an attack suddenly, at whatever moment should seem to them most suitable; and Artasires was to strike the first blow. At the same time he directed Gregorius to pick out a large number of the most daring of the Armenians and bring them to the palace, carrying only their swords in their hands (for it is not lawful for the escort of officers in a city to be armed with anything else), and leaving these men in the vestibule, to come inside with the body-guards; and he was to tell the plan to no one of them, but to make only this explanation, that he was suspicious of Gontharis, fearing that he had called Artabanes to this banquet to do him harm, and therefore wished that they should stand beside the soldiers of Gontharis who had been stationed there on guard, and giving the appearance of indulging in some play, they were to take hold of the shields which these guards carried, and waving them about and otherwise moving them keep constantly turning them up and down; and if any tumult or shouting took place within, they were to take up these very shields and come to the rescue on the run. Such were the orders which Artabanes gave, and Gregorius proceeded to put them into execution. And Artasires devised the following plan: he cut some arrows into two parts and placed them on the wrist of his left arm, the sections reaching to his elbow. And after binding them very carefully with straps, he laid over them the sleeve of his tunic. And he did this in order that, if anyone should raise his sword over him and attempt to strike him, he might avoid the chance of suffering serious injury; for he had only to thrust his left arm in front of him, and the steel would break off as it crashed upon the wood, and thus his body could not be reached at any point. With such purpose, then, Artasires did as I have said. And to Artabanes he spoke as follows: "As for me, I have hopes that I shall prove equal to the undertaking and shall not hesitate, and also that I shall touch the body of Gontharis with this sword; but as for what will follow, I am unable to say whether God in His anger against the tyrant will co-operate with me in this daring deed, or whether, avenging some sin of mine, He will stand against me there and be an obstacle in my way. If, therefore, you see that the tyrant is not wounded in a vital spot, do you kill me with my sword without the least hesitation, so that I may not be tortured by him into saying that it was by your will that I rushed into the undertaking, and thus not only perish myself most shamefully, but also be compelled against my will to destroy you as well." And after Artasires had spoken such words he too, together with Gregorius and one of the body-guards, entered the room where the couches were and took his stand behind Artabanes. And the rest, remaining by the guards, did as they had been commanded. So Artasires, when the banquet had only just begun, was purposing to set to work, and he was already touching the hilt of his sword. But Gregorius prevented him by saying in the Armenian tongue that Gontharis was still wholly himself, not having as yet drunk any great quantity of wine. Then Artasires groaned and said: "My good fellow, how fine a heart I have for the deed, and now you have for the moment wrongfully hindered me!" And as the drinking went on, Gontharis, who by now was thoroughly saturated with wine, began to give portions of the food to the body-guards, yielding to a generous mood. And they, upon receiving these portions, went outside the building immediately and were about to eat them, leaving beside Gontharis only three body-guards, one of whom happened to be Ulitheus. And Artasires also started to go out in order to taste the morsels with the rest. But just then a kind of fear came over him lest, when he should wish to draw his sword, something might prevent him. Accordingly, as soon as he got outside, he secretly threw away the sheath of the sword, and taking it naked under his arm, hidden by his cloak, he rushed in to Gontharis, as if to say something without the knowledge of the others. And Artabanes, seeing this, was in a fever of excitement, and became exceedingly anxious by reason of the surpassing magnitude of the issue at stake; he began to move his head, the colour of his countenance changed repeatedly, and he seemed to have become altogether like one inspired, on account of the greatness of the undertaking. And Peter, upon seeing this, understood what was being done, but he did not disclose it to any of the others, because, being well disposed to the emperor, he was exceedingly pleased by what was going on. And Artasires, having come close to the tyrant, was pushed by one of the servants, and as he retreated a little to the rear, the servant observed that his sword was bared and cried out saying: "What is this, my excellent fellow?" And Gontharis, putting his hand to his right ear, and turning his face, looked at him. And Artasires struck him with his sword as he did so, and cut off a piece of his scalp together with his fingers. And Peter cried out and exhorted Artasires to kill the most unholy of all men. And Artabanes, seeing Gontharis leaping to his feet (for he reclined close to him), drew a two-edged dagger which hung by his thigh--a rather large one--and thrusting it into the tyrant's left side clean up to the hilt, left it there. And the tyrant none the less tried to leap up, but having received a mortal wound, he fell where he was. Ulitheus then brought his sword down upon Artasires as if to strike him over the head; but he held his left arm above his head, and thus profited by his own idea in the moment of greatest need. For since Ulitheus' sword had its edge turned when it struck the sections of arrows on his arm, he himself was unscathed, and he killed Ulitheus with no difficulty. And Peter and Artabanes, the one seizing the sword of Gontharis and the other that of Ulitheus who had fallen, killed on the spot those of the body-guards who remained. Thus there arose, as was natural, an exceedingly great tumult and confusion. And when this was perceived by those of the Armenians who were standing by the tyrant's guards, they immediately picked up the shields according to the plan which had been arranged with them, and went on the run to the banquet-room. And they slew all the Vandals and the friends of Gontharis, no one resisting. Then Artabanes enjoined upon Athanasius to take charge of the money in the palace: for all that had been left by Areobindus was there. And when the guards learned of the death of Gontharis, straightway many arrayed themselves with the Armenians; for the most of them were of the household of Areobindus. With one accord, therefore, they proclaimed the Emperor Justinian triumphant. And the cry, coming forth from a multitude of men, and being, therefore, an exceedingly mighty sound, was strong enough to reach the greater part of the city. Wherefore those who were well-disposed to the emperor leaped into the houses of the mutineers and straightway killed them, some while enjoying sleep, others while taking food, and still others while they were awe-struck with fear and in terrible perplexity. And among these was Pasiphilus, but not John, for he with some of the Vandals fled to the sanctuary. To these Artabanes gave pledges, and making them rise from there, sent them to Byzantium, and having thus recovered the city for the emperor, he continued to guard it. And the murder of the tyrant took place on the thirty-sixth day of the tyranny, in the nineteenth year of the reign of the Emperor Justinian. [545-546 A.D.] And Artabanes won great fame for himself from this deed among all men. And straightway Prejecta, the wife of Areobindus, rewarded him with great sums of money, and the emperor appointed him general of all Libya. But not long after this Artabanes entreated the emperor to summon him to Byzantium, and the emperor fulfilled his request. And having summoned Artabanes, he appointed John, the brother of Pappus, sole general of Libya. And this John, immediately upon arriving in Libya, had an engagement with Antalas and the Moors in Byzacium, and conquering them in battle, slew many; and he wrested from these barbarians all the standards of Solomon, and sent them to the emperor--standards which they had previously secured as plunder, when Solomon had been taken from the world.[75] And the rest of the Moors he drove as far as possible from the Roman territory. But at a later time the Leuathae came again with a great army from the country about Tripolis to Byzacium, and united with the forces of Antalas. And when John went to meet this army, he was defeated in the engagement, and losing many of his men, fled to Laribus. And then indeed the enemy, overrunning the whole country there as far as Carthage, treated in a terrible manner those Libyans who fell in their way. But not long afterward John collected those of the soldiers who had survived, and drawing into alliance with him many Moors and especially those under Coutzinas, came to battle with the enemy and unexpectedly routed them. And the Romans, following them up as they fled in complete disorder, slew a great part of them, while the rest escaped to the confines of Libya. Thus it came to pass that those of the Libyans who survived, few as they were in number and exceedingly poor, at last and after great toil found some peace. FOOTNOTES: [1] The _vexillum praetorium_ carried by the cavalry of the imperial guard, IV. x. 4 below; cf. Lat. _pannum_. [2] See III. xxiv. 1. [3] "Auxiliaries"; see Book III. xi. 3 and note. [4] Chap. i. 3. [5] Chap. i. 3. [6] Now Bona; it was the home and burial-place of St. Augustine. [7] The Eruli, or Heruli, were one of the wildest and most corrupt of the barbarian tribes. They came from beyond the Danube. On their origin, practices, and character, see VI. xiv. [8] The Greek implies that the Tuscan Sea was stormy, like the Adriatic. The Syrtes farther east had a bad reputation. [9] About twelve miles west of Algiers, originally Iol, now Cherchel; named after Augustus. [10] See III. i. 6 and note. [11] See III. i. 18. [12] Book III. ix. 9. [13] See III. x. 23 [14] Lilybaeum had been ceded to the Vandals by Theoderic as dower of his sister Amalafrida on her marriage to Thrasamund, the African king (III. viii. 13). [15] "Friendship" and "hostility" refer to the present relations between Justinian and the Goths and what they may become. [16] Amalasountha. [17] The correspondence between Queen Amalasountha and Justinian is given in V. iii. 17. [18] In Latin _serica_, "silk," as coming from the Chinese (Seres). [19] Cf. Thucydides' description of the huts in which the Athenians lived during the great plague. [20] Pharas and the other Eruli. [21] Cf. ch. vi. 4. [22] "Auxiliaries"; see Book III. xi. 3. [23] _i.e._ there in Africa, as successor to the throne of the Vandal kings. [24] Book III. xxv. 2-4. [25] Examples of the Roman system have come to light in Egyptian papyri: cf. the declarations of personal property, [Greek: apographai], _Pap. Lond._, I., p. 79; _Flinders Petrie Pap._, III., p. 200, ed. Mahaffy and Smyly. [26] Since a triumph was granted only to an _imperator_, after the establishment of the principate by Augustus all triumphs were celebrated in the name of the emperor himself, the victorious general receiving only the _insignia triumphalia_. The first general to refuse a triumph was Agrippa, after his campaign in Spain, about 550 years before Belisarius' triumph in Constantinople. [27] The barriers (_carceres_), or starting-point for the racers, were at the open end of the hippodrome, the imperial box at the middle of the course at the right as one entered. [28] Cf. Book III. v. 3; that was in A.D. 455. The spoliation of Jerusalem by Titus had taken place in A.D. 70. [29] Ecclesiastes, i. 2. [30] Not an actual "triumph," but a triumphal celebration of his inauguration as consul. [31] The reference is to the old custom of distributing to the populace largesses (_congiaria_) of money or valuables on the occasion of events of interest to the imperial house, such as the emperor's assumption of the consular office, birthdays, etc. The first largess of this kind was made by Julius Caesar. [32] Cf. Book IV. ii. 1. [33] The Canaanites of the Old Testament. [34] _i.e._, Clypea, or Aspis, now Kalibia, on the Carthaginian coast. [35] _i.e._, from Tangier, opposite Cadiz, to Algiers. On Caesarea see IV. v. 5 and note. [36] "On the borders of Mauretania" according to Procopius, _De aedificiis_, vi. 6. 18. [37] Chap. x. 6. [38] Book III. viii. 25, 26. [39] The side toward the mountains; cf. § 20. [40] In the late Empire the _excubitores_, 300 in number, constituted the select guard of the palace. Their commander, _comes excubitorum_, held high rank at court; cf. VIII. xxi. 1, where we are told that Belisarius held this position, and _Arcana_ 6. 10, where Justin, afterwards emperor, is mentioned. [41] Cf. chap. viii. 14. Procopius has explained in III. xi. 6 that Solomon was a eunuch. [42] See III. viii. 5. [43] A _comes foedtratorum_, mentioned in III. xi. 6. [44] Book III. viii. 5. [45] _i.e._ Clypea. Not the place mentioned in IV. x. 24. [46] The region in the interior of Sardinia called Barbargia or Barbagia still preserves this name. But Procopius' explanation of the origin of the barbarian settlers there has not been generally accepted. [47] Book III. xviii. 7 ff. [48] IV. iv. 30 and note. [49] Baptism was administered only during the fifty days between Easter and Pentecost. Justinian had forbidden the baptism of Arians. [50] Cf. III. xi. 30. [51] Cf. chap. xiv. 8. [52] "Auxiliaries"; see Book III. xi. 3. [53] More correctly Gadiaufala, now Ksar-Sbehi. [54] Cirta, later named Constantina, now Constantine (Ksantina). [55] John the Cappadocian, cf. I. xxiv. 11 ff. [56] See Book III. xvii. 1 and note. [57] Now Setif. [58] Called Mastinas in IV. xiii. 19. [59] Book IV. v. 5. [60] Cyrenaica. [61] Now Lebida. [62] Cf. III. xxv. 4 ff. [63] Book III. x. 22 ff. [64] Book IV. xii. 30. [65] A reference to his slaughter of the eighty notables, IV. xxi. 7, where, however, nothing is said of an oath sworn on the Gospels. [66] Cf. Book II. iii. 32. [67] Cf. Book III. xvii. 11, xxi. 23. [68] The port of Carthage; see III. xx. 3. [69] _i.e._ baptism. [70] A garment with a cowl, like the _cucullus_. [71] Cf. Book II. iii. 25. [72] Cf. Book II. iii. 15. [73] Justinian. [74] A contemptuous term for "subjects of the emperor." [75] See Book IV. xxi. 27. * * * * * INDEX Abigas River, in Numidia, flowing down from Mt. Aurasium, IV. xix. 7, 11, xiii. 20; its many channels, IV. xix. 11-13; turned upon the Roman camp, IV. x. 14 Abydus, city on the Hellespont, III. i. 8; the Roman fleet delayed there, III. xii. 7-xiii. 5 Acacius, ruler of Armenians; slain by Artabanes, IV. xxvii. 17 Acacius, priest of Byzantium, delivers over Basiliscus, III. vii. 22 Achilles, Bath of, in Byzantium, III. xiii. 16 Achilles, The, of the Vandals, name applied to Hoamer, III. ix. 2 Aclas, suburb of Carthage, IV. vii. 13 Adaulphus, king of the Visigoths, III. ii. 37 Adriatic Sea, divided from the Tuscan Sea by the islands Gaulus and Melite, III. xiv. 16; crossed by the Roman fleet, III. xiii. 21; the scene of one of Gizeric's atrocities, III. xxii. 18 Aetius, Roman general; his splendid qualities, III. iii. 14, 15; rival of Boniface, III. iii. 15; whom he slanders to Placidia, III. iii. 17; writes a deceitful letter to Boniface, III. iii. 18, 28; spared by Placidia by reason of his great power, III. iii. 29; defeats Attila, III. iv. 24; Maximus plans to destroy him, III. iv. 24, 25; slandered to the emperor, III. iv. 26; his death, III. iv. 27, vi. 7; a great loss to the emperor, III. iv. 28 Aetna, mountain in Sicily, III. xiii. 22 Aïgan, a Massagete, bodyguard of Belisarius, III, xi. 7, 9, IV. x. 4; commander of cavalry, III. xi. 7; on the right wing at the battle of Tricamarum, IV. iii. 4; makes a successful attack upon the Moors in Byzacium, IV. x. 5; his force in turn annihilated by the Moors, IV. x. 6 ff.; his death, IV. x. 10, xi. 22 Alani, a Gothic people, allies of the Vandals in their migration, III. iii. 1; with the Vandals in Africa, III. v. 18, 19, xxiv. 3; lose their individuality as a people, III. v. 21 Alaric, king of the Visigoths, invades Europe, III, ii, 7; captures Rome by a trick, III. ii. 14-23; plunders the city, III. ii. 24; declares Attalus emperor of the Romans, III. ii. 28; marches with Attalus against Ravenna, III. ii. 29; opposes sending of commanders to Libya by Attalus, III. ii. 30; quarrels with Attalus, and reduces him from the kingship, III. ii. 36; dies of disease, III. ii. 37 Alexandria, the home of Calonymus, III. xi. 14 Althias, commander of Roman auxiliaries, III. xi. 6; on the left wing at the battle of Tricamarum, IV. iii. 4; commander of Huns in Numidia, IV. xiii. 2; his encounter with Iaudas, IV. xiii. 3-16; his fame from the deed, IV. xiii. 17 Amalasountha, mother of Antalaric; makes an agreement with Justinian, III. xiv. 5; courts his friendship to secure protection, III. xiv. 6; appealed to by the Goths in regard to Lilybaeum, IV. v. 18 Amalafrida, sister of Theoderic; sought and given in marriage to Trasamundus, III. viii. 11, 12; presented with Lilybaeum, III. viii. 13; put under guard by the Vandals, III. ix. 4 Ammatas, brother of Gelimer; instructed to prepare to meet the Romans near Carthage, III. xvii. 11, xviii. 1; kills his kinsmen in prison, III. xvii. 12; his inopportune arrival at Decimum, III. xviii. 4, 5; on the day before Easter, III. xxi. 23; engages with John there and is defeated, III. xviii. 5, 6; his death, III. xviii. 6; xix. 30, xx. 6, xxv. 15; his body found by the Romans, III. xix. 14 Anastasius, emperor of the East, keeps peace with the Vandals, III. vii. 26, viii. 14 Ancon, a dungeon in the royal residence in Carthage, III. xx. 4; unexpected release of Roman merchants confined there, III. xx. 5-9 Antaeus, the mythical wrestler, king in Libya, IV. x. 24 Antalas, ruler of the Moors in Byzacium, III. ix. 3, IV. xxv. 2; remains faithful to the Romans, IV. xii. 30; becomes hostile to Solomon, IV. xxi. 17; joins forces with the Leuathae, IV. xxi. 18; gathers almost all the Moors under him, IV. xxii. 5; writes a letter to Justinian, IV. xxii. 6-10; gathers his army again, IV. xxiii. 1; Areobindus sends an army against him, IV. xxiv. 6; makes an agreement with Gontharis for the destruction of Areobindus, IV. xxv. 6-10; Coutzinas agrees to turn against him, IV. 25, 15, 18; hears of the plot of Coutzinas and keeps his knowledge secret, IV. xxv. 19-21; resents the sending of the head of Areobindus to him by Gontharis, IV. xxvii. 1, 2; decides to side with Justinian, IV. xxvii. 4; persuades Marcentius to come to him, IV. xxvii. 5, 6; Artabanes sent against him, IV. xxvii. 23; his quarrel with Coutzinas, IV. xxvii. 24; Artabanes marches against him, IV. xxvii. 25; his army spared by Artabanes, IV. xxvii. 28, 29; defeated by John, IV. xxviii. 46, 47 Anthemius, a wealthy senator, appointed emperor of the West by Leon, III. vi. 5; killed by his son-in-law, Rhecimer, III. vii. 1 Antonina, wife of Belisarius, mother-in-law of Ildiger, IV. viii. 24; sets sail with Belisarius for Africa, III. xii. 2; preserves drinking water for Belisarius and his attendants, III. xiii. 23, 24; with the army at Decimum, III, xix. 11, xx. 1 Apollinaris, a native of Italy; comes to Justinian to seek support for Ilderic, IV. v. 7, 8; his good services to the Romans, IV. v. 9; sent to the islands of Ebusa, Majorica, and Minorica, with an army, IV. v. 7 Aquileia, city in Italy, III. iii. 9; its size and importance, III. iv. 30; besieged and captured by Attila, III. iv. 30 ff. Arcadius, elder son of Theodosius I; receives the eastern empire, III. i. 2; brother of Honorius and Placidia, III. iii. 4; his alliance with the Visigoths, III. ii. 7; succeeded by his son Theodosius II, III. ii. 33 Archelaus, a patrician; manager of expenditures of the African expedition, III. xi. 17; advises against disembarking on the African coast, III. xv. 2-17; ordered by Belisarius not to take the fleet into Carthage, III. xvii. 16; commands the fleet to anchor off Carthage, III. xx. 11 Ardaburius, son of Aspar, Roman general; sent against the tyrant John, III. iii. 8; destroyed by Leon, III. vi. 27 Areobindus, a senator; sent as general to Libya, IV. xxiv. 1; his inexperience in warfare, IV. xxiv. 1, xxv. 25, xxvi. 16; accompanied by his sister and wife, IV. xxiv. 3; shares the rule of Libya with Sergius, IV. xxiv. 4, 5; sends John against Antalas and Stotzas, IV. xxiv. 6; writes to Sergius to unite with John, IV. xxiv. 7; made sole commander of Libya, IV. xxiv. 16; sends Gontharis against the Moors, IV. xxv. 4, 5; arranges with Coutzinas to turn against the other Moors, IV. xxv. 15; tells Gontharis of his dealings with Coutzinas, IV. xxv. 16; persuaded by G. to postpone the engagement, IV. xxv. 17, 18; his death planned and finally accomplished by Gontharis, IV. xxv. 22-xxvi. 33; treasure left by him in the palace, IV. xxviii. 35; sister of, IV. xxiv. 3; placed in a fortress for her safety, IV. xxvi. 18; removed from the fortress by Gontharis, IV. xxvii. 20 Arethusa, harbour of Syracuse, III. xiv. 11 Ariadne, daughter of Leon, wife of Zenon, and mother of Leon the younger, III. vii. 2; flees to Isauria with Zenon, III. vii. 18 Arian faith, disqualified one for the office of emperor, III. vi. 3; followed by all Goths, III. ii, 5; by the Vandals, III. viii. 4, xxi. 20; by some among the Roman soldiers, IV. i, 4, xiv. 12, 21; adhered to steadfastly by Gelimer, IV. ix. 14; Arian priests of the Vandals, III. xxi. 23, 25 Armenia, III. xi. 5; Armenians, sent with Areobindus to Libya, IV. xxiv. 2; follow Artabanes in entering the service of Gontharis, IV. xxvii. 9; support Artabanes in his plot against Gontharis, IV. xxviii. 8, 34, 36 Arsacidae, the ancient royal family of Armenia, IV. xxiv. 2, xxvii. 16 Artabanes, son of John, of the Arsacidae; sent to Libya in command of Armenians, IV. xxiv. 2; known to Chosroes for his brave deeds, IV. xxvii. 17; brother of John, IV. xxiv. 15; uncle of Gregorius, IV. xxvii. 10; joins Areobindus, IV. xxv. 4; supports him against Gontharis, IV. xxvi. 7, 13, 19; enters the service of Gontharis, IV. xxvii. 9; his plot to kill the tyrant, IV. xxvii. 10; urged on by Gregorius, IV. xxvii. 11-19; sent against Antalas, IV. xxvii. 23, 25; joins battle, but allows the enemy to escape, IV. xxvii. 27-29; threatened by Ulitheus, IV. xxvii. 30; his excuses, IV. xxvii. 31, 32; after deliberation returns to Carthage, IV. xxvii. 33, 35; entertained by Gontharis at a banquet, IV. xxviii. 3; arranges to carry out his plot against Gontharis, IV. xxviii. 6-9; Artasires makes a request of him, IV. xxviii. 12, 13; he succeeds in destroying Gontharis with his own hand, IV. xxviii. 15-30; assisted by Peter, cuts down the body-guards who remain, IV. xxviii. 33; directs Athanasius to look after the treasure of Areobindus, IV. xxviii. 35; sends John and others to Byzantium, IV. xxviii. 40; wins great fame, IV, xxviii. 42; rewarded with money by Prejecta, IV. xxviii. 43; made general of all Libya, IV. xxviii. 43; summoned to Byzantium, IV. xxviii. 44. Artasires, body-guard of Artabanes; shares knowledge of his plot against Gontharis, IV. xxvii. 10, 18; renders good service in the execution of the plot, IV. xxviii. 7-32; his ingenious protection for his arm, IV. xxviii. 10, 11, 31 Asclepiades, a native of Palestine and friend of Theodorus, IV. xviii. 3; reveals the plot of Maximinus to Theodorus and Germanus, IV. xviii. 4 Asia, the continent to the right of the Mediterranean as one sails into it, III. i. 5; distance from Europe at different points, III. i. 7, 8; distance along the Asiatic side of the Euxine, III. i. 11 Asiaticus, father of Severianus, IV. xxiii. 6 Aspar, Roman general; father of Ardaburius, III. iii. 8; of the Arian faith, III. vi. 3; his great power in Byzantium, III. iv. 8; sent against the tyrant John, III. iii. 8; defeated by the Vandals in Libya, III. iii. 35; returns home, III. iii. 36; makes Leon emperor of the East, III. v. 7; his friendship sought by Basiliscus, III. vi. 2; quarrels with Leon, III. vi. 3; urges Basiliscus to spare the Vandals, III. vi. 4, 16; destroyed by Leon, III. vi. 27; the emperor Marcian had been his adviser, III. iv. 7 Atalaric, son of Amalasuntha; ruler of the Goths, III. xiv. 5; succeeded his grandfather Theoderic, III. xiv. 6 Athanasius, sent with Areobindus to Libya, IV. xxiv. 2; summoned by Areobindus, IV. xxvi. 6; being summoned by Gontharis, pretends to be pleased, IV. xxvi. 21, 22; with Areobindus entertained by Gontharis, IV. xxvi. 31; spared by the assassins of Gontharis, IV. xxvi. 33; entertained by Gontharis at a second banquet, IV. xxviii. 3; directed by Artabanes to look after the treasure of Areobindus, IV. xxviii. 35 Athens, its distance from Megara a measure of one day's journey, III. i. 17 Attalus, made king of the Visigoths and declared emperor of the Romans by Alaric, III. ii. 28; of noble family, _ibid._; his lack of discretion, III. ii. 29; marches with Alaric against Ravenna, _ibid._; sends commanders alone to Libya against the advice of Alaric, III. ii. 30, 32; failure of his attempt upon Libya, _ibid._; quarrels with Alaric, and is reduced from the kingship, III. ii. 36 Attila, leader of the Huns, defeated by Aetius, III. iv. 24; overruns Europe, III. iv. 29; besieges and captures Aquileia; III. iv. 30 ff. Augustus, emperor of the West, III. vii. 15 Aurasium, a mountain in Numidia; distance from Carthage, III. viii. 5, IV. xiii. 22; its great size, fruitful plateaus, and defences, IV. xiii. 23-25; source of the Abigas River there, IV. xiii. 20, xix. 11; adjoins First Mauretania, IV. xx. 30; taken by the Moors from the Vandals, III. viii. 5, IV. xiii. 26; its west side also held by the Moors, IV. xiii. 27; Moors of, ruled by Iaudas, IV. xii. 29, xiii. 1; Solomon marches thither, IV. xiii. 18; Iaudas establishes himself there, IV. xiii. 21; ascended by Solomon, IV. xiii. 30 ff.; the Romans eluded by the Moors on the mountain, IV. xiii. 35, 36; Solomon prepares more carefully for a second attempt, IV. xiii. 40; in which he succeeds completely in dislodging the Moors from there, IV. xix. 5-xx. 20; fortified and held by the Romans, IV. xx. 22; capture of Iaudas' treasure there, IV. xx. 23-29; fugitive Vandals return thither, IV. xiv. 19 Babosis, place in Numidia, IV. xix. 16 Bacchus, brother of Solomon, and father of Cyrus and Sergius, IV. xxi. 1, 19; father of Solomon the younger, IV. xxi. 19, xxii. 17 Bagaïs, a deserted city near the Abigas River, IV. xix. 7 Bagradas River, in Libya, IV. xv. 13 Balas, leader of the Massagetae, III. xi. 12 Bandifer, "standard-bearer" (Latin), cf. Bandum, IV. x. 4 Bandum, the Latin term for "standard" in Procopius' time, IV. ii. 1 Barbaricini, name applied to the Moors in Sardinia, IV. xiii. 44 Barbatus, commander of Roman cavalry, III. xi. 7, IV. xv. 50; on the Roman right wing at the battle of Tricamarum, IV. iii. 4; his death, IV. xv. 59 Basiliscus, brother of Berine; commander of an expedition against the Vandals, III. vi. 2; his aspirations to the throne, _ibid._; urged by Aspar to spare the Vandals, III. vi. 4; landing in Africa, makes a complete failure of the expedition, III. vi. 10-24, x. 2; returning to Byzantium, becomes a suppliant, III. vi. 26; saved by Berine, _ibid._; makes himself tyrant in Byzantium, III. vii. 18; his misrule, III. vii. 19; sends an army under Harmatus to meet Zenon, III. vii. 20; becomes a suppliant, III. vii. 22; exiled to Cappadocia and dies, III. vii. 24, 25 Basiliscus, son of Harmatus, III. vii. 21; made Caesar and then removed by Zenon, III. vii. 23 Belisarius, Roman general; a native of "Germany," III. xi. 21; summoned from the East, III. ix. 25; ordered to be in readiness to lead the African expedition, III. x. 21; made commander-in-chief of the African expedition with unlimited power, III. xi. 18, 20; sets sail for Africa, III. xii. 2; punished two Massagetae for murder, III. xii. 9; addresses the army at Abydus, III. xii. 10-21; provides for the safe navigation of the fleet, III. xiii. 1-4; disembarks the army at Methone, III. xiii. 9 ff.; provides a supply of bread for the army, III. xiii. 20; his wife preserves the drinking water, III. xiii. 23, 24; sends Procopius to Syracuse to get information, III. xiv. 3 ff.; his anxiety regarding the Vandals and the attitude of his own soldiers, III. xiv. 1, 2; starts from Sicily toward Africa, III. xiv. 15; holds a consultation regarding disembarking on the African coast, III. xv. 1 ff.; disembarks the army and fortifies a camp, III. xv. 31-33; orders the fleet not to put in at Carthage, III. xvii. 10; commands five men to remain on each ship, III. xv. 36; punishes some of the soldiers for stealing and addresses the army, III. xvi. 1-8; advances with the army to Decimum, where he defeats the Vandals in an engagement, III. xvi. 9-xix. 33, xxi. 16. xxii. 14; captures with ease the unwalled cities of Libya, III. v. 9; prevents the army from entering Carthage on the evening of their arrival, III. xx. 2; his commands respected by the greater part of the fleet, III. xx. 15; enters Carthage with his army, III. xx. 17; exhorts the soldiers to moderation, III. xx. 18-20; sits upon the throne of Gelimer, III. xx. 21; hears and answers complaints of Carthaginian citizens, III. xx. 22, 23; lunches in Gelimer's palace, III. xxi. 1, 5; enjoys great renown by reason of the peaceful entry into Carthage, III. xxi. 8; his treaties with the Moors, III. xxv. 2-9, IV. viii. 11 ff., xi. 9; considers the repair of the fortifications of Carthage, III. xxi. 11; presses on the work of repairing them, III. xxiii. 19, 20; spares the messengers of Tzazon, III. xxiv. 6; and the envoys of Gelimer, III. xxiv. 17; takes measures to prevent desertions to the Vandals, IV, i. 7-11; addresses the army, IV. i. 12-25; defeats the Moors in the battle of Tricamarum, IV. ii. 1-iii. 18; attacks the Vandal camp, IV. iii. 19; takes measures to stop the disorder in the Roman army, IV. iv. 6-8; sends John the Armenian to pursue Gelimer, IV. iv. 9; himself follows Gelimer, IV. iv. 13; mourns the death of John the Armenian, IV. iv. 24; spares Uliaris, IV. iv, 25; continues the pursuit of Gelimer, IV. iv. 26; leaves Pharas to besiege Gelimer, IV. iv. 28; sends suppliant Vandals to Carthage, IV. iv. 32; captures Boniface with the treasures of Gelimer, IV. iv. 33-41; returns to Carthage, IV. v. 1; sends out armies to recover many lost provinces, V. v. 1-10; makes an unsuccessful expedition to Sicily, IV. v. 11; writes a letter to the Goths, IV. v. 12-17; their reply, IV. v. 8-24; reports to Justinian, IV. v. 25; receives the report of Pharas regarding Gelimer, IV. vii. 10; sends Cyprian with instructions, IV. vii. 11; receives Gelimer at Aclas, IV. vii. 13, 14; reports the capture of Gelimer, IV. vii. 17; the victim of unjust slander, IV. viii. 1, 2; given choice of going to Byzantium or remaining in Carthage, IV. viii. 4; chooses the former IV. viii. 5; learns of the accusation of treason to be brought against him, IV. viii. 6, 7; hears the report of the uprising of the Moors, IV. viii. 22; leaves Solomon in charge of Libya, IV. viii. 23; returning to Byzantium, receives great honours, IV, ix. 1 ff.; brings Vandals with him, IV. ix. 1, xiv. 17; pays homage to Justinian in the hippodrome, IV. ix. 12; later celebrates a "triumph" in the old manner, IV. ix. 15; becomes a consul, _ibid._; distributes much wealth of the Vandals to the people, IV. ix. 16; subjugates Sicily, IV. xiv. 1; passes the winter in Syracuse, IV. xiv. 4, 41; Solomon begs him to come to Carthage from Syracuse to put down the mutiny, IV. xiv. 41, 42; arrives at Carthage in time to prevent its surrender, IV. xv. 9-10; pursues and overtakes the fugitives, IV. xv. 11, 12; encamps at the Bagradas River and prepares for battle, IV. xv. 13-15; addresses the army, IV. xv. 16-29; defeats Stotzas' army, IV. xv. 40 ff.; forbids pursuit of the enemy, but allows their camp to be plundered, IV. xv. 46, 47; returns to Carthage, IV. xv. 47; upon receipt of unfavourable news, sets sail for Sicily, IV. xv. 48, 49; Solomon sends suspected soldiers to him, IV. xix. 3; counted the chief cause of the defeat of the Vandals, IV. xi. 44. Berine, wife of the Emperor Leon, and sister of Basiliscus, III. vi. 2; gains clemency for Basiliscus, III. vi. 26 Boniface, Roman general; his splendid qualities, III. iii. 14, 15; rival of Aetius, III. iii. 15; made general of all Libya, III. iii. 16; slandered by Aetius, III. iii. 17; summoned to Rome by Placidia, III. iii. 18; refuses to come, III. iii. 20; makes an alliance with the Vandals, III. iii. 22, 25; the true cause of his conduct discovered by his friends, III. iii. 27, 28; urged by Placidia to return to Rome, III. iii. 29; unable to persuade the Vandals to withdraw, meets them in battle and is twice defeated, III. iii. 30-35, xxi. 16; returns to Rome, III. iii. 36 Boniface, the Libyan, a native of Byzacium; entrusted by Gelimer with his wealth, IV. iv. 33, 34; falls into the hands of Belisarius, IV. iv. 35-41 Boriades, body-guard of Belisarius; sent to capture Syllectus, III. xvi. 9 Boulla, Plain of, distance from Carthage, III. xxv. 1; near the boundary of Numidia, _ibid._; the Vandals gather there, III. xix. 32, xxv. 1; the only territory left to the Vandals, III. xxv. 16; Gelimer and Tzazon meet there, III. xxv. 22; mutineers gather there, IV. xv. 1 Bourgaon, mountain in Byzacium; battle there with the Moors, IV. xii. 3 ff. Britain, counted in the Western empire, III. i. 18; revolts from the Romans, III. ii. 31; not recovered by the Romans, but held by tyrants, III. ii. 38 Byzacium, a Moorish province in Libya, III. xix. 32; a dry region, III. xv. 34; the town Hermione there, III. xiv. 10; Moors of, defeat the Vandals, III. ix. 3; Moors, of, seek alliance with the Romans, III. xxv. 3; the home of Boniface, the Libyan, IV. iv. 33; Moors of, revolt, IV. viii. 9, x. 2, xii. 1, 2; Roman force annihilated there, IV. x. 3 ff.; Solomon marches thither to confront the Moors, IV. xi. 14; Moors of, suffer a crushing defeat, IV. xii. 21-25; abandoned by the Moors, IV. xii. 29; except those under Antalas, IV. xii. 30; plundered by the Leuathae, IV. xxi. 17; Moors gather there once more, IV. xxiii. 1; Himerius of Thrace commander there, IV. xxiii. 3, 14; Moors march, thence against Carthage, IV. xxv. 2; defeated by John, IV. xxviii. 46; subsequent battles, IV. xxviii. 47 ff. Byzantium, distance from the mouth of the Danube, III. i. 10; from Carthage, III. x. 14; its chief priest Epiphanius, III. xii. 2; natives of, as rowers in the Roman fleet, III. xi. 16 Cabaon, a Moorish ruler, prepares to meet the Vandals, III. viii. 15-16; sends spies to Carthage, III. viii. 17 ff.; receives the report of his spies, III. viii. 24; prepares for the conflict, III. viii. 25, 26, IV. xi. 17; defeats the enemy, III. viii. 28 Caenopolis, name of Taenarum in Procopius' time, III. xiii. 8 Caesar, a title given to one next below the emperor in station, III. vii. 21, 23 Caesarea, first city of "Second Mauretania," IV. xx. 31; situated at its eastern extremity, IV. x. 29; distance from Carthage, IV. v. 5; recovered for the Romans by Belisarius, _ibid._, IV. xx. 32 Calonymus, of Alexandria, admiral of the Roman fleet, III. xi. 14; ordered by Belisarius not to take the fleet into Carthage, III. xvii. 16; enters the harbour Mandracium with a few ships, and plunders the houses along the sea, III. xx. 16; bound by oath to return his plunder, III. xx. 23; disregards his oath, but later dies of apoplexy in Byzantium, III. xx. 24, 25 Capitolinus, see Jupiter. Cappadocia, Basiliscus exiled thither, III. vii. 24 Caputvada, a place on the African coast; distance from Carthage, III. xiv. 17; the Roman army lands there, _ibid._ Caranalis, town in Sardinia, captured by Tzazon, III. xxiv. 1, xxv. 10, IV. xiii. 44 Carthage, city in Africa, founded by Dido, IV. x. 25; grows to be the metropolis of Libya, IV. x. 26, 27; captured by the Romans, IV. x. 28; after the Vandal occupation, its wall preserved by Gizeric, III. v. 6; the only city with walls in Libya, III. xv. 9; its defences neglected by the Vandals, III. xxi. 11, 12; entered by the Roman army under Belisarius, III. xx. 17, 21; its fortifications restored by Belisarius, III. xxiii. 19, 20; besieged by Gelimer, IV. i. 3; by Stotzas, IV. xv. 8; its surrender prevented by Belisarius, IV. xv. 9, 10; the harbours, Stagnum, III. xv. 15, xx. 15, and Mandracium, III. xx. 3, 14, IV. xxvi. 10; the ship-yard Misuas, IV. xiv. 40; its suburb Aclas, IV. vii. 13; and Decimum, III. xvii. 11; its aqueduct, IV. i. 2; its hippodrome, IV. xiv. 31, xviii. 11; its palace, III. xx, 21, IV. xiv. 34, xviii. 8, xxvi. 20; the priest of the city, Reparatus, IV. xxvi. 24, 31; monastery built and fortified there by Solomon, IV. xxvi. 17; an ancient saying among the children there, III. xxi. 14-16; church of St. Cyprian, and a special annual festival in his honour, III. xxi. 17, 18; distance from Aurasium, III, viii. 5, IV. xiii. 22; from the Plain of Boulla, III. xxv. 1; from Byzantium, III. x. 14; from Caesarea, IV. v. 5; from Caputvada, III. xiv. 17; from Decimum, III. xvii. 17; from Grasse, III. xvii. 8; from Hippo Regius, IV. iv. 26; from Iouce, III, xv. 8; from Membresa, IV. xv. 12; from Mercurium, III. vi. 10; from Siccaveneria, IV. xxiv. 6; from Stagnum, III. xv. 15, xx. 15; from Tebesta, IV. xxi. 19; from Tricamarum, IV. ii. 4 Casula (Latin), garment befitting one of humble station, IV. xxvi. 26 Caucana, place in Sicily, III. xiv. 4, 11, 14; distance from Syracuse, III. xiv. 4 Centenarium, a sum of money, so called because it "weighs one hundred pounds" (I. xxii. 4), III. vi. 2 Centuriae, place in Numidia, IV. xiii. 2 Chalcedon, city opposite Byzantium, III. i. 8, 9; distance from the Phasis River, III. i. 11 Chiliarch, III. v. 18, IV. iii. 8 Chosroes, Persian king; Artabanes known to him, IV. xxvii. 17 Christ, His temple in Byzantium, III. vi. 26 Christians, persecuted by Honoric, III. viii. 3, 4, xxi. 19; by Gundamundus, III. viii. 7; courted by Trasamundus, III. viii. 9, 10; not troubled by Ilderic, III. ix. 1; Justinian reproached for not protecting them, III. x. 19; the church of St. Cyprian taken from them by the Vandals, III. xxi. 19; consoled in a dream sent by St. Cyprian, III. xxi. 21; recover the church of St. Cyprian, III. xxi. 25; in Jerusalem, receive the treasures of the temple, IV. ix. 9; reverence their churches and their worship, III. viii. 17, 18, 20, 24; their rite of baptism, III. xii. 2, IV. xxvi. 25, 28; their feast of Easter, IV. xiv. 7; if not of the orthodox faith, excluded from the church, IV. xiv. 14; Christian scriptures, IV. xxi. 21, xxvi. 28; Christian teaching, offended against by Basiliscus, III. vii. 22 Cilicians, as sailors in the African expedition, III. xi. 14 Clipea, city in Africa, IV. x. 24 Clypea, see Shield Mountain Colchis, at the end of the Black Sea, III. i. 11 Constantina, city in Africa; distance from Gazophyla, IV. xv. 52 Constantine the Great; division of the Roman empire dating from his time, III. i. 3; his enlargement of Byzantium and giving of his name to the city, _ibid._ Constantinus, chosen king by the soldiers in Britain, III. ii. 31; his invasion of Spain and Gaul, _ibid._; defeated and killed in battle, III. ii. 37 Constantius, husband of Placidia, partner in the royal power with Honorius; his brief reign and death, III. iii. 4; father of Valentinian, III. iii. 5 Corsica, called Cyrnus in ancient times, IV. v. 3; Cyril sent thither with an army, _ibid._; recovered for the Roman empire, IV. v. 4 Coutzinas, a Moorish ruler, joins in an attack upon a Roman force, IV. x. 6; agrees to turn against the other Moors, IV. xxv. 2, 15; his further dealings with Areobindus, IV. xxv. 17, 18; ignorant of Antalas' knowledge of his plot, IV. xxv. 20, 21; separates from Antalas, and sides with Gontharis, IV. xxvii. 24; marches with Artabanes against Antalas, IV. xxvii. 25, 27; in alliance with John, IV. xxviii. 50 Cteanus, name applied to Theodorus, III. xi. 7 Cyanean Rocks, or "Dark Blue Rocks" at the mouth of the Bosphorus, III. i. 8 Cyprian, commander of Roman auxiliaries, III. xi. 6; on the left wing at the battle of Tricamarum, IV. iii. 4; sent by Belisarius to bring Gelimer from Papua, IV. vii. 11 Cyprian, a saint, especially reverenced at Carthage, III. xxi. 17; a church to him there and a festival celebrated in his honour, III. xxi. 18, 23, 25; sends a dream to devout Christians, III. xxi. 21 Cypriana, a periodic storm on the African coast, III. xx. 12 Cypriana, a festival celebrated at Carthage, in honour of Cyprian, from which the storm was named, III. xxi. 18 Cyrene, city in Africa, marking the division between the eastern and western empires, III. i. 16 Cyril, sent as commander of an army to Sardinia, III. xi. 1, 6; avoids Sardinia and sails to Carthage, III. xxiv. 19; sent to Sardinia and Corsica with an army, IV. v. 2, 3; wins them back for the empire, IV. v. 4; commander of auxiliaries in Numidia, IV. xv. 50; his death, IV. xv. 59 Cyrnus, ancient name of Corsica, IV. v. 3 Cyrus, son of Bacchus and brother of Sergius; becomes ruler of Pentapolis in Libya, IV. xxi. 1, 16; brother of Solomon the younger, IV. xxi. 19; marches with Solomon against the Moors, ibid. Dalmatia, held by Marcellianus as tyrant, III. vi. 7 Danube River, called also the Ister, III. i. 10 Daras, city on the eastern frontier of the empire; home of Solomon, III. xi. 9 December, IV. in. 28 Decimum, suburb of Carthage, III. xvii. 11, 17, xviii. 5, xix. 1, 14, 23, 33, xx. 6, 7, 10, xxi. 23, 24, IV. xxv. 12; the Vandals routed there, III. xviii. 7-11, xix. 31; distance from Carthage, III. xvii. 17; from Pedion Halon, III. xviii. 12 Delphi, tripods first made there, III. xxi. 3 Delphix, a word used by the Romans to designate a royal banquet room, III. xxi. 2, 3; in the palace of Gelimer, III. xxi. 5 Dido, her emigration from Phoenicia, IV. x. 25 Diogenes, guardsman of Belisarius; his notable exploit on a scouting expedition, III. xxiii. 5-18 Dolones, the large sails on ships, III. xvii. 5 Domesticus, a title designating a kind of confidential adviser, III. iv. 7, xi. 5 Domnicus, senator, accompanies Germanus to Libya, IV. xvi. 2; at the battle of Scalae Veteres, IV. xvii. 4; summoned to Byzantium, IV. xix. 1 Dorotheus, general of Armenia; commander of auxiliaries, III. xi. 5; his death; III. xiv. 14 Dromon, a swift ship of war, III. xi. 15, 16, xv. 36 Dryous, city on the east coast of Italy, III. i. 9, 12 Dyrrachium, the name of Epidamnus in Procopius' time, III. i. 16, xi. 8 Easter, a feast of the Christians, IV. xiv. 7; Arians annoyed by exclusion from it, IV. xiv, 15 Ebusa, island in the western Mediterranean, so-called by the natives, III. i. 18; Apollinarius sent thither with an army, IV. v. 7 Egypt, formerly marked the limit of Phoenicia, IV. x. 15; densely populated from ancient times, IV. x. 19; the migration of the Hebrews from there, IV. x. 13; the Phoenicians pass through it on their way to Libya, IV. x. 18 Egyptians, as sailors in the African expedition, III. xi. 14 Emesa, city in Syria; home of Severianus, IV. xxiii. 6 Epidamnus (Dyrrachium), city on the Ionian Sea, III. i. 16; home of John, III. xi. 8 Epiphanius, chief priest of Byzantium; blesses the fleet, III. xii. 2 Eruli, Roman auxiliaries in the African expedition, III. xi. 11; their untrustworthy character, IV. iv. 30; of the Arian faith, IV. xiv. 12; dissuade Stotzas from attacking Germanus, IV. xvii. 14, 15 Esdilasas, a Moorish ruler; joins in an attack upon a Roman force, IV. x. 6 ff.; surrenders himself to the Romans, IV. xii. 26; brought to Carthage, IV. xii. 29 Euagees, brother of Hoamer; imprisoned by Gelimer, III. ix. 9. 14; killed in prison by Ammatas, III. xvii. 12 Eudocia, daughter of Eudoxia; taken captive by Gizeric, III. v. 3; married to Honoric, III. v. 6 Eudoxia, daughter of Theodosius and wife of Valentinian, III. iv. 15, 20; mother of Eudocia and Placidia, III. v. 3; forced to be the mistress of Maximus, III. iv. 86; invites Gizeric to avenge her, III. iv. 37-39; taken captive by Gizeric, III. v. 3; sent to Byzantium, III. v. 6 Eulogius, Roman envoy to Godas, III. x. 32, 33; returns with his reply, III. x. 34 Europe, the continent opposite Asia, III. i. 7, xxii. 15; distance from Asia at different points, III. i. 7, 8; distance along the European side of the Euxine, III. i. 10; extent of the western empire in, III. i. 14; invaded by Alaric, III. ii. 7; all its wealth plundered by the Visigoths, III. ii. 13; overrun by Attila, III. iv. 29 Eustratius, sent to Libya to assess the taxes, IV. viii. 25 Eutyches, heresy of, III. vii. 22 Euxine Sea, distance around it, III. i. 10, 11; receives the waters of the Phasis, III. i. 11 Excubitori, a Latin name for "guard," IV. xii. 17 Foederati, auxiliary troops, III. xi. 2, 3, 5, xix. 13, 14, IV. iii. 4, vii. 11, xv. 50 Foedus (Latin) "treaty," III. xi. 4 Franks, name used for all the Germans in Procopius' time, III. iii. 1 Fuscias, sent as envoy to Spain by Gelimer, III. xxiv. 7 ff. Gadira, the strait of Gibraltar at the western extremity of the Mediterranean, III. i. 4, 5, xxiv. 8, IV. v. 5, 6; width of the strait, III. i. 7; distance from Tripolis, III. i. 14; and from the Ionian Sea, III. i. 15; marking the limit of Mauretania, IV. x. 29; the Vandals cross there, III. iii. 26; _see_ Heracles, Pillars of Galatia, lands there given to Gelimer, IV. ix. 13 Gaulus, island between the Adriatic and Tyrrhenian Seas, III. xiv. 16 Gaul, the Visigoths retire thither, III. ii. 13, 37; invaded by Constantius, III. ii. 31 Gazophyla, place in Numidia, IV. xv. 62; distance from Constantina, _ibid._; Roman commanders take sanctuary there, IV. xv. 59 Geilaris, son of Genzon and father of Gelimer, III. ix. 6 Gelimer, king of the Vandals; son of Geilaris, III. ix. 6; brother of Tzazon, III. xi. 23, xxiv. 1; and of Ammatas, III. xvii. 11; uncle of Gibamundus, III. xviii. 1; his character, III. ix. 7; encroaches upon the authority of Ilderic, III. ix. 8; secures the royal power, _ibid._; allowed by the Goths to hold Lilybaeum, IV. v. 13; imprisons Ilderic, Hoamer, and Euagees, III. ix. 9; defies Justinian, and shews further cruelty to the imprisoned princes, III. ix. 14; replies to Justinian, III. ix. 20-23; Justinian prepares an expedition against him, III. x. 1 ff.; sends envoys to Spain, III. xxiv. 7; his slave Godas becomes tyrant of Sardinia, III. x. 25-27; sends an expedition to Sardinia, III. xi. 22, 23; his ignorance of the approaching Roman expedition, III. xiv. 10; entrusts his wealth to Boniface, IV. iv. 34; confines Roman merchants in a dungeon in the palace, III. xx. 5, 6; expected by Belisarius to make an attack, III. xvii. 4; writes to his brother in Carthage, III. xvii. 11; follows the Roman army, III. xvii. 14; plans his attack upon the Roman army, III. xviii. 1; comes upon the Romans with a large force of cavalry, III. xix. 18; anticipates them in seizing a point of advantage, III. xix. 20-22; by a great blunder loses the chance of defeating the Roman armies, III. xix. 25-29; attacked and routed by Belisarius, III. xix. 30, 31, xxi. 16; flees to the Plain of Boulla, III. xix. 32; Belisarius sits upon his throne, III. xx. 21; his banquet-hall, servants, and even food, used by the Romans, III. xxi. 1-6; reason for his not staying in Carthage, III. xxi. 12; encourages Libyan farmers to kill Roman soldiers, III. xxiii. 1-4; eluded by a party of Roman scouts, III. xxiii. 6-16; Tzazon writes to him from Sardinia, III. xxiv. 2-4; collects the Vandals in the Plain of Boulla, III. xxv. 1; sends a letter to Tzazon in Sardinia, III. xxv. 10-18; leads the Vandals against Carthage, IV. i. 1; cuts the aqueduct and tries to besiege the city, IV. i. 2, 3; prepares the Vandals for battle at Tricamarum, and addresses the army, IV. ii. 8-22; at the battle of Tricamarum, IV. iii. 9; flees from the Vandals' camp, IV. iii. 20; pursued by John the Armenian, IV. iv. 9, 14; and by Belisarius, IV. iv. 13, 26; escapes his pursuers, and takes refuge on Mt. Papua, IV. iv. 26, 28; Moors there friendly to him, IV. iv. 27; Pharas set to guard him, IV. iv. 28, 31; suffers great misery on Mt. Papua, IV. vi. 4, 14; receives a letter from Pharas, IV. vi. 15-26; replies with a letter, IV. vi. 27-30; the meaning of his strange request, IV. vi. 31-33; after enduring extreme suffering, is induced by a piteous sight to surrender, IV. vii. 1-6; writes a second time to Pharas, IV. vii. 6-9; Cyprian comes to Papua to take him prisoner, IV. vii. 11; surrenders himself, IV. vii. 12; meets Belisarius at Aclas, IV. vii. 14; his unexpected laughter, IV. vii. 14-16; marvels at the restoration of the fortifications of Carthage by Belisarius, III. xxiii. 20, 21; his capture reported by Belisarius, IV. vii. 17; reaches Byzantium with Belisarius, IV, ix. 1; a slave in Belisarius' triumph, IV. ix. 10; before Justinian in the hippodrome, IV. ix. 11, 12; given lands in Galatia, but not made a patrician, IV. ix. 13, 14; nephew of, IV. vii. 4 Geminianus, Rock of, on Mt Aurasium, IV. xx. 23 Genzon, son of Gizeric; receives Libyan slaves, III. v. 11; tries to save John, III. vi. 24; father of Gundamundus and Trasamundus, III. viii. 6, 8; and of Geilaris, III. ix. 6; his death, III. viii. 1 Gergesites, ancient people of Phoenicia, IV. x. 17; emigrate to Egypt and then to Libya, IV. x. 18, 19 Gepaides, one division of the Gothic peoples, III. ii. 2; their location, III. ii. 6 Getic, a name sometime applied to the Gothic peoples, III. ii. 2 Gezon, a Roman infantryman, paymaster of his company, IV. xx. 12; scales the fortress of Toumar and leads the army to its capture, IV. xx. 13-16 Germania, the home of Belisarius, III. xi. 21 Germans, called Franks in Procopius' time, III. iii. 1; according to one account killed Gontharis, III. iii. 33 Germanus, Roman general, nephew of Justinian; sent to Libya, IV. xvi. 1; makes a count of the loyal part of the army, IV. xvi. 3; wins over many mutineers by persuasion, IV. xvi. 4-6; prepares to meet Stotzas in battle, IV. xvi. 7; arrays his army for battle, IV. xvi. 10; addresses his troops, IV. xvi. 11-24; follows the mutineers into Numidia, IV. xvii. 2; overtaking the enemy at Scalae Veteres, prepares for battle, IV. xvii. 3-6; receives offers of desertion from the Moors with Stotzas, IV. xvii. 9; not able to trust them, IV. xvii. 10; Stotzas proposes to attack his division, IV. xvii. 13; rallies the Romans, IV. xvii. 18; routs the mutineers, IV. xvii. 19, 20; his horse killed under him, IV. xvii. 23; orders his men to distinguish their comrades by the countersign, IV. xvii. 22; captures and plunders the enemy's camp, IV. xvii. 24-29; tries to restore order in the army, IV. xvii. 30; defeats Stotzas in a second battle, IV. xvii. 34; learns the plot of Maximinus from Asclepiades; IV. xviii. 4; invites Max. to join his body-guards, IV. xviii. 5, 6; frustrates the attempt of Maximinus, IV. xviii. 8-15; examines Max. and impales him, IV. xviii. 17, 18; summoned to Byzantium, IV. xix. 1; false report of his coming to Carthage, IV. xxiii. 23, 25 Gibamundus, nephew of Gelimer, III. xviii. 1; sent to attack the Roman army on the left, _ibid._; his force destroyed at Pedion Halon, III. xviii. 12, 19, xix. 18, 19, xxv. 15 Gizeric, king of the Vandals; son of Godigisclus and brother of Gontharis, III. iii. 23; father of Honoric, Genzon, and Theodorus, III. v. 6, 11, vi. 24; becomes ruler of the Vandals with his brother, III. iii. 23; according to one account destroyed his brother Gontharis, III. iii. 33; his great ability, III. iii. 24; invited by Boniface to share Libya, III. iii. 25; leads the Vandals into Libya, III. iii. 33; besieges Hippo Regius, III. iii. 32, 34; discovers Marcian among Roman captives, III. iv. 3-8; spares his life and makes him swear friendship to the Vandals, III. iv. 9, 10; secures possession of Libya, III. xxi. 16, xxii. 4; secures his power by making a compact with Valentinian and giving his son as a hostage, III. iv. 12-14, xvi. 13; receives his son back, III. iv. 14; receives ambassadors from the Vandals who had not emigrated, III. xxii. 7; at first hears them with favour, but later refuses their petition, III. xxii. 9-11; makes an attempt on Taenarum, III. xxii. 16; attacks Zacynthus and brutally massacres many of the inhabitants, III. xxii. 17, 18; invited by Eudoxia to punish Maximus, III. iv. 38, 39; despoils the city of Rome, III. v. 1 ff. IV. ix. 5, 8; takes captive Eudoxia and her daughters, III. v. 3; removes the walls of Libyan cities, III. v. 8, xv. 9; wins ridicule thereby in later times, III. v. 9; destroyed all the tax records of Libya, IV. viii. 25; enslaves notable Libyans and takes property from others, III. v. 11, 12; exempts confiscated lands from taxation, III. v. 14; with the Moors, makes many inroads into Roman provinces III. v. 22-25; Aspar urges Basiliscus to spare him, III. vi. 4; desires the appointment of Olyvrius as emperor of the West, III. vi. 6; his fear of Leon, III. vi. 11; persuades Basiliscus to delay, III. vi. 12-16; destroys the Roman fleet, III. vi. 17-21; receives Majorinus disguised as an envoy, III. vii. 6, 7, 9, 10; prepares to meet the army of Majorinus, III. vii. 12; forms a compact with Zenon, III. vii. 26, ix. 23; his death and his will, III. vii. 29, 30. ix. 10, xvi. 13; the "law of Gizeric," III. ix. 12 Glycerius, emperor of the West, dies after a very short reign, III. vii. 15 Godas, a Goth, slave of Gelimer; sets up a tyranny in Sardinia, III. x. 25-27. xi. 22, xxv. 11; invites Justinian to support him, III. x. 28-31; receives the envoy Eulogius, III. x. 33; sends him back with a letter, III. x. 34; the Vandals send an expedition against him, III. xi. 23, xiv. 9; killed by Tzazon, xi, xxiv. 1, 3, IV. ii. 27 Godigisclus, leader of the Vandals in their migration, III. iii. 2, xxii. 3, 5; settles in Spain by agreement with Honorius, III. iii. 2; dies in Spain, III. ii. 23; father of Gontharis and Gizeric, III. ii. 23 Gontharis, son of Godigisclus and brother of Gizeric; becomes ruler of the Vandals with his brother, III. ii. 23; his mild character, III. ii. 21; invited by Boniface to share Libya, III. ii. 25; his death, III. iii. 32, 33. Gontharis, body-guard of Solomon; sent forward against the Moors, IV. xix. 6; camps near the Abigas River, IV. xix. 7; defeated by the Moors and besieged in his camp, IV. xix. 8; receives support from Solomon, IV. xix. 9; attempts to set up a tyranny, IV. xxv. 1 ff.; summoned to Carthage and sent against the Moors, IV. xxv. 4, 5; makes an agreement with Antalas to betray the Romans, IV. xxv. 6-10; recalls Roman skirmishers, IV. xxv. 14; hears of the treasonable plan of Coutzinas, IV. xxv. 16; persuades Areobindus to postpone the engagement, IV. xxv. 17, 18; reveals the plot to Antalas, IV. xxv. 19; plans to kill Areobindus, IV. xxv. 22; persuades him to join battle with the Moors, IV. xxv. 23 ff.; openly sets about establishing his tyranny, IV. xxv. 28 ff.; summons Athanasius, IV. xxvi. 21; and Areobindus, IV. xxvi. 23; his reception of Areobindus, IV. xxvi. 27-32; has him assassinated, IV. xxvi. 32, 33; offends Antalas by sending him the head of Areobindus, IV. xxvii. 1, 2; receives the mutineers under John, IV. xxvii. 7, 8; removes the wife and sister of Areobindus from the fortress, IV. xxvii. 20; compels Prejecta to write a false report in a letter to Justinian for his own advantage, IV. xxvii. 20-22; sends Artabanes against Antalas, IV. xxvii. 23; Coutzinas sides with him, IV. xxvii. 21; Artabanes determines to kill him, IV. xxvii. 34; prepares a larger army against Antalas, IV. xxvii. 36; destroys many in the city, IV. xxvii. 37, 38; entertains Artabanes and others at a banquet, IV. xxviii. 1 ff.; his murder planned by Artabanes, IV. xxviii. 6 ff; his death, IV. xxviii. 27-30 Gospels, the sacred writings of the Christians; oaths taken upon them, IV. xxi. 21. Gothaeus, sent as envoy to Spain by Gelimer, III. xxiv. 7 ff. Goths, general description of the Gothic peoples, III. ii. 2 ff.; their migrations, III. ii. 6 ff.; their common religion and language, III. ii. 5; enter Pannonia and then settle in Thrace for a time, III. ii. 39; subdue the western empire, III. ii. 40; in Italy, Belisarius sent against them, IV. xiv. 1; furnish the Roman fleet a market in Sicily, III. xiv. 5; refuse to give up Lilybaeum, IV. v. 11; receive a letter of remonstrance from Belisarius, IV. v. 12-17; their reply, IV. v. 18-24 Grasse, a place in Libya, III. xvii. 8, 14, 17; its pleasant park, III. xvii. 9, 10; distance from Carthage, III. xvii. 8 Greece, plundered by Gizeric, III. v. 23 Greeks, contemptuous term for the subjects of the emperor, IV. xxvii. 38 Gregorius, nephew of Artabanes; with him plans the murder of Gontharis, IV. xxviii. 7-9; urges Artabanes to carry out the plot, IV. xxvii. 10-19; takes his stand in the banquet-hall, IV. xxviii. 14; restrains Artasires, IV. xxviii. 16 Gundamundus, son of Gezon; becomes king of the Vandals, III. viii. 6; his reign and death, III. viii. 7; brother of Trasamundus, III. viii. 8 Hadrumetum, city in Libya, III. xvii. 8, IV. xxvii. 26, 31, 33; taken by the Moors, IV. xxiii. 11-15; recovered by Paulus, a priest, IV. xxiii. 18-25, 29; guarded for the emperor, IV. xxvii. 6 Harmatus, Roman General; marches against Zenon, III. vii. 20; surrenders to him, III. vii. 21; killed by Zenon, III. vii. 23 Hebrews, their migration from Egypt to Palestine, IV. x. 13; history of the, IV. x. 17 Hebrew Scripture, quoted by Gelimer, IV. ix. 11 Hellespont, strait between Sestus and Abydus, III. i. 7 Heracleia, the name of Perinthus in Procopius' time, III. xii. 6 Heracles, wrestled with Antaeus in Clipea, IV. x. 24 Heracles, Pillars of, Gibraltar, III. i. 5, 9, 15, 18. vii. 11, IV. x. 20 Heraclius, defeats the Vandals in Tripolis, III. vi. 9; returns to Byzantium, III. vi. 25 Hermes, called Mercury by the Romans, III. vi. 10; town of Hermes or Mercurium, on the coast of Libya, III. vi. 10, xvii. 15, xx. 10 Hermione, town in Byzacium; distance from the coast, III. xiv. 10, xvii. 4, 11 Hieron, near the mouth of the Bosphorus, III. i. 8 Himerius of Thrace, commander in Byzacium; fails to unite with John, and falls into the hands of the Moors, IV. xxiii. 3-5; guarded by the Moors, IV. xxiii. 10; puts Hadrumetum into their hands, IV. xxiii. 10-15; escapes to Carthage, IV. xxiii. 17 Hippo Regius, a strong city of Numidia, III. iii. 31, IV. iv. 32; besieged by the Vandals, III. iii. 32, 34; distance from Carthage, IV. iv. 26; Boniface the Libyan captured there, IV. iv. 34, 36, 39 Hoamer, nephew of Ilderic; acts as his general, III. ix. 2; imprisoned by Gelimer, III. ix. 9; blinded by Gelimer, III. ix. 14, 17; his death, III. xvii. 12 Honoric, son of Gizeric; given as a hostage to Valentinian, III. iv. 13; returned, III, iv. 14; marries Eudocia, III. v. 6; receives Libyan slaves, III. v. 11; succeeds to the throne of the Vandals, III. viii. 1, xxi. 19; makes war on the Moors, III. viii. 1, 2; persecutes the Christians, III. viii. 3, 4; his death, III. viii. 5; father of Ilderic, III. ix. 1; in his reign the church of St. Cyprian taken by the Arians, III. xxi. 19 Honorius, younger son of Theodosius; receives the western empire, III. i. 2, ii. 1; brother of Arcadius and Placidia, III. iii. 4; the western empire overrun by barbarians during his reign, III. ii. 1; retires from Rome to Ravenna, III. ii. 8, 9; accused of bringing in the Visigoths, III. ii. 10; his stupid remark upon hearing of the fall of Rome, III. ii. 25, 26; displaced from the throne of the western empire by Attalus, III. ii. 28; prepares for flight either to Libya or to Byzantium, III. ii. 32; his good fortune in extreme peril, III. ii. 34-37; allows the Vandals to settle in Spain, III. iii. 2; provides that they shall not acquire possession of the land, III. iii. 3; shares royal power with Constantius, III. iii. 4; his death, III. iii. 4 Huns, see Massagetae. Iaudas, ruler of the Moors in Aurasium, IV. xii. 29, xxv. 2; the best warrior among the Moors, IV. xiii. 13; plunders Numidia, IV. xiii. 1; his combat with Althias at Tigisis, IV. xiii. 10-16; Solomon marches against him, IV. xiii. 18; accused before Solomon by other Moorish rulers, IV. xiii. 19; slays his father-in-law Mephanius, _ibid._; establishes himself on Mt, Aurasium, IV. xiii. 21; with the mutineers of Stotzas, IV. xvii. 8; Solomon marches against him, IV. xix. 5; remains on Mt. Aurasium, IV. xix. 19; goes up to the top of Mt. Aurasium, IV. xix. 21; escapes wounded from Toumar, IV. xx. 21; deposited his treasures in a tower at the Rock of Geminianus, IV. xx. 24 Ilderic, son of Honoric, becomes king of the Vandals, III. ix. 1; an unwarlike ruler, _ibid._; uncle of Hoamer, III. ix. 2; suspected plot of the Goths against him, III. ix. 4; on terms of special friendship with Justinian, III. ix. 5; makes large gifts to Apollinarius, IV. v. 8; allows Gelimer to encroach upon his authority, III. ix. 8; dethroned and imprisoned, III. ix. 8, 9, 14, 17; killed in prison by Ammatas, III. xvii. 11, 12; his sons and other offspring receive rewards from Justinian and Theodora, IV. ix. 13 Ildiger, son-in-law of Antonina, IV. viii. 24; sent to Libya with an army, _ibid._; made joint commander of Carthage with Theodoras, IV. xv. 49; at the battle of Scalae Veteres, IV. xvii. 6, 19 Illyricum, III. xi. 17, 21; plundered by Gizeric, III. v. 23 Ionian Sea, III. i. 9, 12, 15, ii. 9, 11 Ionians, as sailors in the African expedition, III. xi. 14 Iouce, distance from Carthage, III. xv. 8 Iourpouthes, a Moorish ruler, joins in an attack upon a Roman force, IV. x. 6 ff. Ister, called also the Danube, III. i. 10, ii. 6; crossed by the Goths, III. ii. 39 Italy the brutal destruction of its cities and people by the Visigoths, III. ii. 11, 12; invaded by Gizeric, III. v. 1 ff., 22, 23 Jebusites, ancient people of Phoenicia, IV. x. 17; emigrate to Egypt and then to Libya, IV. x. 18, 19 Jerusalem, captured by Titus, IV. ix. 5; Christians there receive back the treasures of the temple, IV. ix. 9 Jews, their treasures brought to Byzantium by Belisarius, IV. ix. 5; sent back to Jerusalem by Justinian, IV. ix. 9; one of them warns the Romans not to keep the treasures of the temple in Jerusalem, IV. ix. 6-8 John the Armenian; financial manager of Belisarius, III. xvii. 1, 2; commanded to precede the Roman army, III. xvii, 2, xviii. 3; engages with Ammatas at Decimum and defeats his force, III. xviii. 5, 6; pursues the fugitives to Carthage, III. xviii. 10, xix. 30; rejoins Belisarius, III. xix. 33; entrusted with the command of a skirmishing force, IV. ii. 1; in the centre at the battle of Tricamarum, IV. iii. 5; begins the fighting, IV. iii. 10, 12, 13; pursues Gelimer, IV, iv. 9, 14; killed accidentally by Uliaris, IV. iv. 18, 19; his character, IV, iv. 20; cared for and buried by his soldiers, IV. iv. 22; mourned by Belisarius, IV. iv. 24 John, father of Artabanes and John, of the Arsacidae, IV. xxiv. 2 John, commander of auxiliaries, III. xi. 6; on the left wing at the battle of Tricamarum, IV. in. 4; sent with an army to Caesarea, IV. v. 5 John, a general under Basiliscus; his excellent fighting against the Vandals, III. vi. 22-24 John the Cappadocian, urges Justinian not to make war on the Vandals, III. x. 7-17; praetorian perfect; supplies the army with bad bread, III. xiii. 12 ff. John, guardsman of Belisarius; sent to the Pillars of Heracles with an army, IV. v. 6 John, a Roman soldier, chosen emperor, III. iii. 5; his virtues as a ruler, III. iii. 6, 7; reduced from power by Theodosius, III. iii. 8; captured, brutally abused, and killed by Valentinian, III. iii. 9 John of Epidamnus, commander-in-chief of infantry, III. xi. 8, IV. xvi. 2 John, son of John, of the Arsacidae; sent to Libya in command of Armenians, IV. xxiv. 2; brother of Artabanes, IV. xxiv. 15; his death, _ibid._ John the mutineer, succeeds Stotzas as general of the mutineers, IV. xxv. 3; leads the mutineers to join Gontharis, IV. xxvii. 7; marches with Artabanes against Antalas, IV. xxvii. 25; does not take part in the battle, IV, xxvii. 27; entertained by Pamphilus at a banquet, IV. xxviii. 5; taken from sanctuary, and sent to Byzantium, IV. xxviii. 39, 40 John, brother of Pappus; at the battle of Scalae Veteres, IV. xvii. 6, 16; made general of Libya, IV. xxviii. 45; his varying fortunes in fighting with the Moors, IV. xxviii. 46-51 John, son of Sisiniolus; sent as commander to Libya, IV. xix. 1; especially hostile to Sergius, IV. xxii. 3, 4; marches against the Moors, IV. xxiii. 2; fails to meet Himerius, IV. xxiii. 3-5; quarrels with Sergius, IV. xxiii. 32; sent against Antalas and Stotzas, IV. xxiv. C; meets the enemy at a great disadvantage, IV. xxiv. 8; his enmity against Stotzas, IV, xxiv. 9; gives him a mortal wound in the battle, IV. xxiv. 11; his army routed by the Moors, IV. xxiv. 12; his death, IV. xxiv. 13. 14; Justinian's sorrow at his death, IV. xxiv. 16 Joseph, an imperial scribe, sent as envoy to Stotzas, IV. xv. 7; killed by Stotzas, IV. xv. 8 Joshua ("Jesus"), son of ("Naues"), brings the Hebrews into Palestine, IV. x. 13; subjugates the country, IV. x. 14; mentioned in a Phoenician inscription, IV. x. 22 Juppiter Capitolinus, temple of, in Rome, despoiled by Gizeric, III. v. 4 Justinian, succeeds his uncle Justinus as emperor, III. vii. 27; on terms of especial friendship with Ilderic, III. ix. 5; sends warning to Gelimer, III. ix. 10-13; sends a second warning to Gelimer, III. ix. 15-19; approached by Apollinarius and other Libyans seeking help for Ilderic, IV. v. 8; prepares to make war upon Gelimer, III. ix. 24, 25; summons Belisarius from the East to command the African expedition, III. ix. 25; makes preparations for the expedition, III. x. 1 ff.; discouraged by John the Cappadocian, III. x. 7 ff.; urged by a priest to prosecute the war, III. x. 18-20; continues preparations III. x. 21; invited by Godas to support him in Sardinia, III. x. 28-31; sends an envoy to him, III. x. 32; and later an army, III. xi. 1; sends Valerianus and Martinus in advance of the African expedition, III. xi. 24; despatches the expedition, III. xii. 1 ff.; makes an agreement with Amalasountha for a market, III. xiv. 5; their mutual friendship, III. xiv. 6; his letter to the Vandals, III. xvi. 12-14; never properly delivered, III. xvi. 15; the Goths appeal to him as arbiter, IV. v. 24; receives report of Belisarius regarding the dispute with the Goths, IV. v. 25; hears slander against Belisarius, IV. viii. 2; sends Solomon to test him, IV. viii. 4; sends the Jewish treasures back to Jerusalem, IV. ix. 9; receives the homage of Gelimer and of Belisarius, IV. ix. 12; distributes rewards to Gelimer and others, IV. ix. 13; sends Belisarius against the Goths in Italy, IV. xiv. 1; sends Germanus to Libya, IV. xvi. 1; entrusts Solomon again with the command of Libya, IV. xix. 1; receives a letter from Antalas, IV. xxii. 6-10; refuses to recall Sergius, IV. xxii. 11; sends Areobindus to Libya IV. xxiv. 1; recalls Sergius and sends him to Italy, IV. xxiv. 16; appoints Artabanes general of all Libya, IV. xxviii. 43; summons him to Byzantium, IV. xxviii. 44; uncle of Germanus, IV. xvi. 1; and of Vigilantia, IV. xxiv. 3; the Vandals of, IV. xiv. 17; excluded all not of the orthodox faith from the church, IV. xiv. 14; years of reign noted, III. xii. 1, IV. xiv. 6, xix. 1, xxi. 1, xxviii. 41 Justinus, Roman emperor, uncle of Justinian, III. vii. 27; not a vigorous or skilful ruler, III. ix. 5; Ilderic accused of betraying the Vandals to him, III. ix. 8 Laribus or Laribous, city in Libya, IV. xxii. 14, xxviii. 48; attacked by the Moors, IV. xxii. 18-20 Latin tongue, the, III. i. 6, IV. xiii. 33 Laurus, a Carthaginian; impaled by Belisarius, IV. i. 8 Leon, emperor of the East, III. v. 7; sends an expedition against the Vandals, III. vi. 1 ff., xx. 2; quarrels with Aspar, III. vi. 3; appoints Anthemius emperor of the West, III. vi. 5; wins over the tyrant Marcellianus and sends him against the Vandals in Sardinia, III. vi. 8; dreaded by Gizeric, III. vi. 11; his expedition destroyed by the Vandals, III. vi. 17 ff.; destroys Aspar and Ardaburius, III. vi. 27; his death, III. vii. 2; husband of Berine, III. vi. 2; father of Ariadne, III. vii. 2 Leon the younger, son of Zenon and Ariadne, III. vii. 2; becomes emperor while an infant, III. vii. 2; dies soon afterwards, III. vii. 3 Leontius, son of Zaunus, sent as commander to Libya, IV. xix. 1; fights valorously at the capture of Toumar, IV. xx. 19; brother of Rufinus, _ibid._ Leptes, city in Libya, III. xvii. 8 Leptimagna, city in Tripolis; threatened by an army of Leuathae, IV. xxi. 2, 13, 15 Lesbos, passed by the fugitive Vandals, IV. xiv. 18 Leuathae, tribe of Moors; present demands to Sergius, IV. xxi. 2; their representatives received by Sergius and killed, IV. xxi. 4-10; come in arms against Leptimagna, IV. xxi. 12; routed by the Romans, IV. xxi. 14; march against the Romans a second time, IV. xxi. 16; scorn the overtures of Solomon, IV. xxi. 20-22; capture Solomon, son of Bacchus, IV. xxii. 13; release him, IV. xxii. 16; besiege Laribus, IV. xxii. 18; depart to their homes IV. xxii. 20; join the Moors of Byzacium against the Romans, IV. xxviii. 47 Libya, included in "Asia," III. i. 5; its aborigines, IV. x. 23; the Phoenicians emigrate thither, IV. x. 19; Phoenician tongue used there, IV. x. 20; subjugated by the Romans, IV. x. 28; failure of the Visigothic king Attalus to get a foothold there, III. ii. 30, 32, 36; lost by Valentinian, III. iii. 12; occupied by the Vandals, III. iii. 26, xxii. 4; who remove the walls of the cities, III. v. 8, xv. 9; recovered for the Romans by Belisarius, III. xvi. 9 ff.; prospers under the rule of Solomon, IV. xix. 3, xx. 33; who restores the walls of the cities, IV. xix. 3, xx. 29; overrun by the Moors, IV. xxiii. 26-31, xxviii. 49 Libyans, enslaved and impoverished by Gizeric, III. v. 11-13, 15-17; cannot trust the Vandals, III. xvi. 3; their sufferings at the hands of the Vandals, III. xx. 19; oppressed by the Moors, IV. viii. 20, xxiii. 27; enjoy peace at last, IV. xxviii. 52 Liguria, the army of Majorinus halts there, III. vii. 4, 11 Lilybaeum, a promontory of Sicily; presented to Amalafrida, III. viii. 13; Belisarius attempts unsuccessfully to take it, IV. v. 11; he asserts his claim, IV. v. 12 ff.; the claim denied by the Goths, IV. v. 19 ff. Massagetae, called Huns in Procopius' time, III. xi. 9; their love of wine, III. xii. 8; their custom of allowing only members of a certain family to begin a battle, III. xviii. 14; in the army of Aetius, III. iv. 24; in the African expedition of Belisarius, III. xi. 11, xii. 8-10, xvii. 3, xviii. 3, 12, 17, xix. 18, 33, IV. xiii. 2; their doubtful allegiance, IV. i. 5, 6, 9-11, ii. 3, iii. 7, 16; with the mutineers under John, IV. xxvii. 8 Maeotic Lake, at the eastern extremity of the "Mediterranean," III. i. 4; limit of the Euxine, III. i. 10; home of the Vandals, III. iii. 1 Majorica, island in the western Mediterranean, III. i. 18; Apollinarius sent thither with an army, IV. v. 7 Majorinus, emperor of the West; makes an expedition against the Vandals, III. vii. 4-13; disguised as an envoy and received by Gizeric, III. vii. 8-10; his death, III. vii. 14 Malea, southern promontory of the Peloponnesus, III. xiii. 5 Mammes, a place in Byzacium; Solomon encamps there, IV. xi. 15; battle fought there, IV. xi. 47-54 Mandracium, the harbour of Carthage, III. xx. 14, 15, IV. viii. 7, xxvi. 10; opened to the Roman fleet, III. xx. 3; entered by Calonymus with a few ships, III. xx. 16 Marcellianus, rules as independent tyrant over Dalmatia, III. vi. 7; won over by Leon and sent to Sardinia against the Vandals, III. vi. 8; destroyed by treachery, III. vi. 25 Marcellus, commander of auxiliaries, III. xi. 6; on the left wing at the battle of Tricamarum, IV. iii. 4; commander-in-chief of Roman forces in Numidia, IV. xv. 50, 51; leads his army against Stotzas, IV. xv. 52; his death, IV. xv. 59 Marcentius, commander in Byzacium; persuaded by Antalas to join him, IV. xxvii. 5, 6, 31 Marcian, confidential adviser of Aspar, III. iv. 7; taken prisoner by Gizeric, III. iv. 2; his career foreshadowed by a sign, III. iv. 4-8; spared by Gizeric, III. iv. 9, 10; becomes emperor of the East, III. iv. 10, 39; his successful reign, III. iv. 11; his death, III. v. 7 Marcian, commander of infantry, III. xi. 7 Martinus, commander of auxiliaries, III. xi. 6, 29; sent with Valerian in advance of the African expedition, III. xi. 24; meets the Roman fleet at Methone, III. xiii. 9; on the left wing at the battle of Tricamarum, IV. iii. 4; escapes with Solomon from the mutiny in Carthage IV. xiv. 37-40; sent back to Numidia, IV. xiv. 40; summoned to Byzantium, IV. xix. 2 Massonas, son of Mephanias; a Moorish ruler, accuses Iaudas to Solomon, IV. xiii. 19 Mastigas, Moorish ruler, IV. xx. 31 Mastinas, ruler of Moors in Mauretania, IV. xiii. 19 Mauritania, occupied by the Moors, IV. x. 29; Moors of, seek alliance with the Romans, III. xxv. 3; ruled by Mastinas IV. xiii. 19; fugitive Vandals return thither, IV. xiv. 19; Iaudas retires thither, IV. xx. 21; "First Mauritania," called Zabe, subjugated by Solomon, IV. xx. 30; Stotzas comes thence to joiZabetalas, IV. xxii. 5; adjoins Numidia, III. xxv. 21; city of Caesarea there, IV. v. 5 Maximinus, body-guard of Theodorus the Cappadocian; tries to set up a tyranny, IV. xviii. 1-3; upon invitation of Germanus, becomes a body-guard of his, IV. xviii. 6, 7; his attempt frustrated by Germanus, IV. xviii. 8-15; examined by Germanus and impaled, IV. xviii. 17, 18 Maximus the elder, his tyranny, III. iv. 16; the festival celebrating his defeat, _ibid._ Maximus, a Roman senator, III. iv. 16; his wife outraged by Valentinian, III. iv. 17-22; plans to murder Valentinian, III. iv. 24; slanders and destroys Aetius, III. iv. 25-27; kills Valentinian, and makes himself tyrant, III. iv. 36; stoned to death, III. v. 2 Medeos, city at the foot of Mt. Papua in Numidia, IV. iv. 27 Medic garments, _i.e._ silk; called "seric" in Procopius' time, as coming from the Chinese (Seres); worn by the Vandals, IV. vi. 7 Medissinissas, a Moorish ruler; joins in an attack upon a Roman force, IV. x. 6 ff.; slays Rufinus, IV. x. 11 Megara, its distance from Athens the measure of a one day's journey, III. i. 17 Melanchlaenae, an old name for the Goths, III. ii. 2 Melita, island between the Adriatic and Tyrrhenian Seas (Malta), III. xiv. 16 Membresa, city in Libya, IV. xv. 12; distance from Carthage, _ibid._ Menephesse, place in Byzacium, IV. xxiii. 3 Mephanias, a Moor, father of Massonas, and father-in-law of Iaudas, IV. xiii. 10; treacherously slain by Iaudas, _ibid._ Mercurium, a town near Carthage, III. vi. 10, xvii. 15, xx. 10 Mercurius, the Latin name for Hermes, III. vi. 10 Methone, a town in the Peloponnesus, III. xiii. 9; the Roman fleet stops there, III. xiii. 9-21 Minorica, island in the western Mediterranean, III. i. 18; Apollinarius sent thither with an army, IV. v. 7 Misuas, the ship-yard of Carthage, IV. xiv. 40 Monks, their monastery in Carthage, IV. xxvi. 17 Moors, a black race of Africa, IV. xiii. 29; an account of their origin in Palestine, and migration westward, IV. x. 13 ff.; driven away from Carthage, IV. x. 27, 28; possess themselves of much of Libya, IV. x. 29; take Mt. Aurasium from the Vandals, IV. xiii. 26, 27; those beyond Mt. Aurasium ruled by Ortaïas, IV. xiii. 28; on Aurasium, ruled by Iaudas, IV. xii. 29, xiii. 1; of Mauritania, ruled by Mastinas, IV. xiii. 19; inhabit Mt. Papua, IV. iv. 27, vi. 19, 20; not merged with the Vandals, III. v. 21; their alliance secured by Gizeric, III. v. 22; make war on the Vandals, III. viii. 1, 2; dwelling on Mt. Aurasium, establish their independence from the Vandals, III. viii. 5; their wars with Gundamundus, III. viii. 7; inflict a great disaster upon the Vandals, III. viii. 15-28; of Byzacium, defeat the Vandals, III. ix. 3; most of them seek alliance with the Romans, III. xxv. 2-4, IV. viii. 11 ff.; their doubtful fidelity, III. xxv. 9; stationed in the rear of the Vandals at the battle of Tricamarum, IV. iii. 8; threaten the Roman power in Tripolis, IV. v. 10; on Mt. Papua, drive back Pharas and his men, IV. vi. 1-3; of Byzacium and Numidia, rise and overrun the country, IV. viii. 20-23, x. 1, 2; caught by Aïgan and Rufinus in an ambush, IV. x. 5; in turn annihilate the Roman force, IV. x. 6 ff.; receive a warning letter from Solomon, IV. xi. 1-8; their reply, IV. xi. 9-13; Solomon marches against them, IV. xi. 14; prepare for battle at Mammes, IV. xi. 17, 18, 37-46; defeated by the Romans, IV. xi. 47-54; rise against the Romans a second time, IV. xii. 1; establish themselves on Mt. Bourgaon, IV. xii. 3-9; suffer a crushing defeat, IV. xii. 17 ff.; finally understand their ancient prophecy, IV. xii. 28; emigrate from Byzacium to Numidia, IV. xii, 29; those under Antalas remain in Byzacium, IV. xii. 30; of Aurasium, take up arms under Iaudas, IV. xiii. 1 ff.; checked by Althias at the spring of Tigisis, IV. xiii. 8, 9; in the army of Solomon, IV. xiii. 20; elude Solomon on Mt. Aurasium, IV. xiii. 35, 36; Solomon prepares another expedition against them, IV. xiii. 40; with the mutineers of Stotzas, IV. xvii. 8; their uncertain allegiance, IV. xvii. 9-12; join in the pursuit of the mutineers, IV. xvii. 31; on Aurasium; Solomon marches against them, IV. xix. 5; defeat Gontharis, IV. xix. 8; flood the Roman camp, IV. xix. 14; retire to Mt. Aurasium, IV. xix. 16; defeated by Solomon, retire to the heights of Aurasium, IV. xix. 17, 18; abandon the fortress of Zerboule to the Romans, IV. xix. 23-32; overwhelmingly defeated at Toumar, IV, xx. 1 ff.; defeat the Romans under Solomon, IV. xxi. 25-28; gather under Antalas, IV. xxii. 5; tricked by Solomon the younger, IV. xxii. 12-17; attack Laribus, IV. xxii. 18-20; gathered a second time by Antalas, IV. xxiii. 1; capture Himerius and take Hadrumetum, IV. xxiii. 10-15; lose Hadrumetum, IV. xxiii. 25; pillage all Libya unhindered, IV. xxiii. 26-32; defeat the Roman army at Siccaveneria, IV. xxiv. 8-12; at the invitation of Gontharis, march against Carthage, IV. xxv. 1, 2; of Coutzinas, in the army of Artabanes, IV. xxvii. 25; of Byzacium, defeated by John, IV. xxviii. 46; with the Leuathae defeat John, IV. xxviii. 47, 48; routed in a third battle, IV. xxviii. 50, 51; of Coutzinas, in alliance with John, IV. xxviii. 50; in Sardinia, Solomon prepares an expedition against them, IV. xiii. 41, 45; sent thither by the Vandals, IV. xiii. 43; overrun the island, IV. xiii. 42, 44; called Barbaricini, IV. xiii. 44; their polygamy, IV. xi. 13; untrustworthy by nature, IV. xiii. 37, xvii. 10, even among themselves, IV. xxv. 16; suspicious toward all, IV. xxvi. 2; their hardiness as a nation, IV. vi. 5, 10-13; their reckless character, IV. viii. 10; their female oracles, IV. viii. 13; their method of cooking bread, IV. vii. 3; accustomed to take some women with their armies, IV. xi. 18, 19; undesirable allies, IV. xiii. 40; not practised in storming walls, IV. xxii. 20; not diligent in guarding captives, IV. xxiii. 17; the symbols of kingship among them received from the Roman emperor, III. xxv. 5-7; Moorish old man, guardian of Iaudas' treasures, IV. xx. 24; slain by a Roman soldier, IV. xx. 27; Moorish woman, IV. vii. 3 Moses, leader of the Hebrews, his death, IV. x. 13 Nepos, emperor of the West, dies after a reign of a few days, III. vii. 15 Numidia, in Africa, adjoins Mauritania, III. xxv. 21; its boundary near the plain of Boulla, III. xxv. 1; Mt. Papua on its borders, IV. iv. 27; includes Mt. Aurasium, III. viii. 5; and the city of Hippo Regius, III. iii. 31, IV. iv. 26; and the city of Tigisis, IV. x. 21; Moors of, seek alliance with the Romans, III. xxv. 3; plundered by the Moors, IV. viii. 9, x. 2; plundered by Iaudas, IV. xiii. 1, 18; a place of retreat for the mutineers of Stotzas, IV. xv. 44, 50, xvii. 1; Romans retire from there, IV. xx. 30; Gontharis commander there, IV. xxv. 1; Moors of, march out against Carthage, IV. xxv. 2 Nun ("Naues"), father of Joshua ("Jesus"), IV. x. 13, 22 Ocean, Procopius' conception of it as encircling the earth, III. 1. 4 Olyvrius, Roman senator, husband of Placidia, III. v. 6, vi. 6; becomes emperor of the West; killed after a short reign, III. vii. 1 Optio (Latin), a kind of adjutant in the Roman army, III. xvii. 1, IV. xx. 12 Ortaïas, Moorish ruler beyond Mt. Aurasium, IV. xiii. 19, 28; accuses Iaudas to Solomon, IV. xiii. 19; with the mutineers of Stotzas, IV. xvii. 8; his report of the country beyond his own, IV. xiii. 29 Palatium, the imperial residence in Rome; said to be named from Pallas, III. xxi. 4; despoiled by Gizeric, III. v. 34, IV. ix. 5 Palestine, settlement of the Hebrews there, IV. x. 13; Moors emigrated therefrom, IV. x. 27 Pallas, an "eponymous" hero, used to explain the word "Palatium," III. xxi. 4 Pannonia, entered by the Goths, III. ii. 39 Pappus, brother of John, IV. xvii. 6, xxviii. 45; commander of cavalry, III. xi. 7; on the right wing at the battle of Tricamarum, IV. iii. 4 Papua, mountain in Numidia, IV. iv. 27; Gelimer takes refuge there, IV. 26, 28; its ascent attempted by Pharas, IV. vi. 1; closely besieged, IV. iv. 28, vi. 3; Cyprian sent thither to receive Gelimer, IV. vii. 11 Pasiphilus, a mutineer in the Roman army; active supporter of Gontharis, IV. xxvii. 21, 22, 36, 38; entertains John at a banquet, IV. xxviii. 3; his death, IV. xxviii. 39 Patrician rank, III. ii. 15, xi. 17, IV. vi. 22, xvi. 1; Gelimer excluded from it because of Arianism, IV. ix. 14 Paulus, a priest of Hadrumetum; rescues the city from the Moors, IV. xxiii. 18-25; comes to Byzantium, IV. xxiii. 29 Pedion Halon, in Libya, distance from Decimum; forces of Gibamundus destroyed there, III. xviii. 12 Pegasius, friend of Solomon the younger, IV. xxii. 14, 15 Peloponnesus, III. xi. 24, IV. xiv. 18; plundered by Gizeric, III. v. 23, xxii. 16 Pentapolis, part of Libya; its rule falls to Cyrus, IV. xxi. 1 Perinthus, called Heracleia in Procopius' time, III, xii. 6 Persians, III. xix. 7; make peace with the Romans, III. i. 1, ix. 25, 26; Vandals fight against them IV. xiv. 18 Peter, Roman general, accused by the Massagetae of unfair dealing, IV. i. 6 Peter, of Thrace, body-guard of Solomon; at the banquet of Gontharis, IV. xxviii. 3; looks with approval upon Artabanes' plot, IV. xxviii. 24, 28; with Artabanes cuts down the body-guards who remain, IV. xxviii. 33 Pharas, leader of Eruli, in the African expedition, III. xi. 11; left in charge of the siege of Gelimer on Mt. Papua, IV. iv. 28, 31, vi. 1, 3; his correspondence with Gelimer, IV. vi. 15-30, vii. 6-9; learns the reasons for Gelimer's peculiar request, and fulfils it, IV. vi. 31-34; reports to Belisarius, IV. vii. 10; his good qualities, IV. iv. 29, 31; an uneducated man, IV. vi. 15 Pharesmanes, father of Zaunas, IV. xix. 1, xx. 19 Phasis River, in Colchis, III. i. 11; distance from Chalcedon, _ibid._ Phoenicia, its extent, IV. x. 15; ruled by one king in ancient times, IV. x. 16; home of various peoples, IV. x. 17; Dido's emigration therefrom, IV. x. 25; Phoenician tongue, spoken in Libya, IV. x. 20; Phoenician writing, on two stones in Numidia IV. x. 22 Phredas, friend of Areobindus, sent by him to Gontharis, IV. xxvi. 8, 9 Placidia, sister of Arcadius and Honorius and wife of Constantius, III. iii. 4; mother of Valentinian, brings him up in vicious ways, III. iii. 10; as regent for her son, appoints Boniface general of all Libya, III. iii. 16; gives ear to Aetius' slander of Boniface, III. iii. 17, 18; summons him to Rome, III. iii. 18; sends men to Boniface at Carthage, III. iii. 27; upon learning the truth tries to bring him back, III. iii. 28, 29; finally receives him back, III. iii. 36; her death, III. iv. 15 Placidia, daughter of Eudoxia and wife of Olyvrius; taken captive by Gizeric, III. v. 3, vi. 6; sent to Byzantium, III. v. 6 Pontus, see Euxine Praetor, III. x. 3 Praetorian, see Prefect Prefect, praetorian prefect (lit. "of the court"), III. x. 3, 7, xi. 17, xiii. 12; of the army, "financial manager," III. xi. 17. cf. III. xv. 13, xvii, 16, IV. xvi. 2 Prejecta, daughter of Vigilantia and wife of Areobindus, accompanies him to Libya, IV. xxiv. 3; placed in a fortress for her safety, IV. xxvi. 18; removed from the fortress by Gontharis and compelled to give a false report in a letter to Justinian, IV. xxvii. 20; presents a great sum of money to Artabanes, IV. xxviii. 43 Proba, a notable woman of Rome; according to one account opened the gates of the city to Alaric, III. ii. 27 Procopius, author of the History of the Wars; sails with Belisarius for Africa, III. xii. 3; his reassuring dream, III. xii. 3-5; sent by Belisarius to Syracuse to get information, III. xiv. 3, 4, 7-13; praised by Belisarius III. xiv. 15; congratulates Belisarius upon a good omen, III. xv. 35; escapes from Carthage with Solomon, IV. xiv. 39; goes to Belisarius in Syracuse, IV. xiv. 41 Pudentius, of Tripolis; recovers this country for the Roman empire, III. x. 22-24, xi. 22, IV. xxi. 3; receives support from Belisarius, IV. v. 10; persuades Sergius to receive only representatives of the Leuathae, IV. xxi. 3; rights against the Leuathae, IV. xxi. 13, 14; his death, IV. xxii. 15 Ravenna, city in Italy; the refuge of Honorius, III. ii. 9, 25; attacked by Alaric and Attalus, III. ii. 29 Reparatus, priest of Carthage; sent by Gontharis to summon Areobindus, IV. xxvi. 23; with difficulty persuades him to come, IV. xxvi. 24-27; dismissed by Gontharis, IV. xxvi. 31 Rhecimer, slays his father-in-law Anthemius, emperor of the West, III. vii. 1 Rhine River, crossed by the Vandals, III. iii. 1 Romans, subjects of the Roman empire, both in the East and in the West; mentioned constantly throughout; celebrate a festival commemorating the overthrow of Maximus, III. iv. 16; accustomed to enter subject cities in disorder, III. xxi. 9; require especial oaths of loyalty from body-guards of officers, IV. xviii. 6; subjugate the peoples of Libya, IV. x. 28; lose Libya to Gizeric and the Vandals, III. iii. 31-35; send an unsuccessful expedition under Basiliscus against the Vandals, III. vi. 1-24; make peace with the Persians, III. ix. 26; send a second expedition under Belisarius, III. xi. 1 ff.; defeat the Vandals at Decimum, III. xviii. 5-19, xix. 31-33; at Tricamarum, IV. ii. 4 ff.; defeat the Moors at the battle of Mammes, IV. xi. 47-54; on Mt. Bourgaon, IV. xii. 19 ff.; and on Mt. Aurasium, IV. xix. 5-xx. 22; further conflicts with the Moors, IV. xi.-xxviii.; poverty of the Roman soldiers, IV. iv. 3; their marriages with the Vandal women, IV. xiv. 8; and their desire for the Vandals estates, IV. xiv. 10; they make a mutiny, IV. xiv. 7 ff. Rome, abandoned by Honorius, III. ii. 8, 9; completely sacked by the Visigoths, III. ii. 13; captured by Alaric, III. ii. 14-23; sacked by Alaric, III. ii. 24; according to one account, was delivered over to Alaric by Proba, III. ii. 27; the suffering of the city during the siege of Alaric, III. ii. 27; despoiled by Gizeric, III. v. 1 ff., IV. ix. 5 Rome, name of a cock of the Emperor Honorius, III. ii. 26 Rufinus, of Thrace; of the house of Belisarius and his standard-bearer, IV. x. 3, 4; commander of cavalry, III. xi. 7; makes a successful attack upon the Moors in Byzacium, IV. x. 5; his force in turn annihilated by the Moors, IV. x. 6 ff; captured and killed, IV. x. 10, 11, xi. 22 Rufinus, son of Zaunas and brother of Leontius; sent as commander to Libya, IV. xix. 1; fights valorously at the capture of Toumar, IV. xx. 19 Salarian Gate, at Rome, III. ii. 17, 22 Sallust, Roman historian, the house of, burned by Alaric, III. ii. 24 Sarapis, commander of Roman infantry, III. xi. 7, IV. xv. 50; his death, IV. xv. 59 Sardinia, its size compared with that of Sicily, IV. xiii. 42; half way between Rome and Carthage, _ibid._; recovered by the Romans from the Vandals, III. vi. 8, 11; occupied by the tyrant Godas, III. x. 26, 27; Gelimer sends an expedition to recover it, III. xi. 22, 23; subdued by Tzazon, III, xxiv. 1, 3, IV. ii. 25; avoided by Cyril, III. xxiv. 19; Tzazon and his men summoned thence by Gelimer, III. xxv. 10, 17, 24, 25; recovered for the Roman empire by Cyril, IV. v. 2, 4; Solomon sends an expedition against the Moors who had overrun the island, IV. xiii. 41-45 Sauromatae, an old name for the Goths, III. ii. 2 Scalae Veteres, place in Numidia, IV. xvii. 3 Scythians, a barbarian people, III. xix. 7; in the army of Attila, III. iv. 24 Scriptures of the Christians; Areobindus seeks to protect himself by them, IV. xxvi. 27; see also Gospel, and Hebrew Scriptures Septem, fort at the Pillars of Heracles, III. i. 6; John sent thither with an army, IV. v. 6 Sergius, son of Bacchus, and brother of Cyrus; becomes ruler of Tripolis in Libya, IV. xxi. 1; brother of Solomon the younger, IV. xxi. 19; threatened by an army of Leuathae, IV. xxi, 2; receives representative from them, IV. xxi. 3 ff.; meets them in battle, IV. xxi. 13, 14; retires into the city, IV. xxi. 15; and receives help from Solomon, IV. xxi. 16, 19; succeeds Solomon in the command of Libya, IV. xxii. 1; his misrule, IV. xxii, 2; his recall demanded by Antalas, IV. xxii. 9, 10; Justinian refuses to recall him, IV. xxii. 11; appealed to by Paulus to save Hadrumetum, but does nothing, IV. xxiii. 20, 21; quarrels with John, son of Sisiniolus, IV. xxii. 3; xxiii. 32; shares the rule of Libya with Areobindus, IV. xxiv. 4, 5; departs to Numidia, IV. xxiv. 6; disregards Areobindus' instructions to unite with John, IV. xxiv. 7, 8; recalled and sent to Italy, IV. xxiv. 16, XXV. 1 Seric, see Medic Garments, IV. vi. 7 Sestus, city on the Hellespont, III. i. 8 Severianus, son of Asiaticus, a Phoenician; his daring encounter with the Moors, IV. xxiii. 6-9; escapes to Carthage, IV. xxiii. 17 Shield Mountain (Clypea), ancient fort on Aurasium, IV. xiii. 33 Shoal's Head, see Caputvada, III. xiv. 17 Siccaveneria, city in Libya; distance from Carthage, IV. xxiv. 6 Sicily, its size compared with that of Sardinia, IV. xiii. 42; invaded by Gizeric, III. v. 22, 23; concessions given the Vandals there, III. viii. 13, IV. v. 21; reached by the Roman fleet, III. xiii. 22; expedition sent thither by Belisarius, IV. v. 11; claimed by the Goths, IV. v. 19; subjugated by Belisarius, IV. xiv. 1; a mutiny there causes Belisarius to return to it, IV. xv. 48, 49; refuge of Libyans, IV. xxiii. 28 Sidon, city at the extremity of Phoenicia, IV. x. 15 Sigeum, promontory on the coast of the Troad, III. xiii. 5 Singidunum, town in the land of the Gepaides, modern Belgrade, III. ii. 6 Sinnion, leader of the Massagetae, III. xi. 12 Sirmium, town in the land of the Gepaides, III. ii. 6 Sisiniolus, father of John, IV. xix. 1, xxii. 3, xxiii. 2, xxiv. 6 Sitiphis, metropolis of "First Mauritania," IV. xx. 30 Sittas, Roman general; slain by Artabanes, IV. xxvii. 17 Sophia, name of the great church in Byzantium, III. vi. 26 Solomon, commander of auxiliaries, III. xi. 5; a eunuch, III. xi. 6; a native of the country about Daras, III. xi. 9; uncle of Bacchus, IV. xxi. 1; sent to report Belisarius' victory to the emperor, III. xxiv. 19; returns to Libya, IV. viii. 4; left by Belisarius in charge of Libya, IV. viii. 23; receives reinforcements from Byzantium, IV. viii. 24; disturbed by the news of uprisings in Libya, IV. x. 1 _ff._; writes to the Moorish leaders, IV. xi. 1-8; their reply, IV. xi. 9-13; moves against the Moors with his whole army, IV. xi. 14; addresses his troops, IV. xi. 23-36; inflicts a crushing defeat upon the enemy at Mammes, IV. xi. 15 ff.; receives word of the second Moorish uprising, and marches back, IV. xii. 2; wins a brilliant victory on Mt. Bourgaon, IV. xii. 3 ff.; moves against Iaudas, IV. xiii. 18; instigated against him by other Moorish leaders, IV. xiii. 19; encamps on the Abigas River, IV. xiii. 20; ascends Mt. Aurasium with few provisions, IV. xiii. 30-33; eluded by the Moors, IV. xiii. 35, 36; returns to Carthage, IV. xiii. 39; prepares a second expedition against Mt. Aurasium, IV. xiii. 40; and against Sardinia, IV. xiii. 41. 45; passes the winter in Carthage, IV. xiv. 4; opposed by the soldiers in regard to confiscated lands, IV. xiv. 10; plan to assassinate him, IV. xiv. 22; his guards implicated in the plot, IV. xiv. 23; failure of the conspirators to act, IV. xiv. 24-27; tries to win back the loyalty of his men, IV. xiv. 30; insulted openly, IV. xiv. 31; sends Theodorus to the mutineers, IV. xiv. 32; his enmity toward Theodorus, IV. xiv. 33; his acquaintances killed by the mutineers, IV. xiv. 36; flees to a sanctuary in the palace, IV. xiv. 37; joined by Martinus there, _ibid._; they come out to the house of Theodorus, IV. xiv. 38; escape in a boat to Misuas, whence he sends Martinus to Numidia, IV. xiv. 40; writes to Theodorus, and departs to Syracuse, IV. xiv. 41; begs Belisarius to come to Carthage, IV. xiv. 42; returns with him, IV. xv. 9; entrusted again with the command of Libya, IV. xix. 1; his prosperous rule, IV. xix. 3, 4, xx. 33; marches against Iaudas once more, IV. xix. 5; sends Gontharis ahead, IV. xix. 6; hears of the defeat of Gontharis, IV. xix. 9; advances to the camp of Gontharis, thence to Babosis, IV. xix. 16; defeats the Moors in battle, IV. xix. 17; plunders the plain and then returns to Zerboule, IV. xix. 20; which he unexpectedly captures, IV. xix. 25-31; his care of the water supply during the siege of Toumar, IV. xx. 3; addresses the army, IV. xx. 4-9; tries to find a point of attack, IV. xx. 10, 11; fortifies Mt. Aurasium against the Moors, IV. xx, 22; fortifies many Libyan cities with money captured from Iaudas, IV. xix. 3, xx. 29; subjugates Zabe, or "First Mauritania," IV. xx. 30; appealed to by Sergius for help, IV. xxi. 16; incurs the enmity of Antalas, IV. xxi. 17, xxii. 7, 8; marches against the Moors, IV. xxi. 19; his overtures scorned by the Leuathae, IV. xxi. 20-22; captures some booty and refuses to distribute it to the soldiers, IV. xxi. 23, 24; defeated by the Moors and slain, IV. xxi. 25-28; Justinian's regard for him, IV. xxii. 11; builds and fortifies a monastery in Carthage, IV. xxvi. 17; standards of, recovered from the Moors, IV. xxviii. 46 Solomon the younger, brother of Cyrus and Sergius; marches with Solomon against the Moors, IV. xxi. 19; his capture and release, IV. xxii. 12-17 Solomon, king of the Jews, IV. ix. 7 Sophia, temple of, in Byzantium; appropriateness of its name, III. vi. 26 Spain, settled by the Vandals, III. iii. 2, 22; invaded by Constantinus, III. ii. 31; settled by the Visigoths, III. iii. 26. xxiv. 7, IV. iv. 34 Stagnum, a harbour near Carthage, III. xv. 15; the Roman fleet anchors there, III. xx. 15, 16 Stotzas, a body-guard of Martinus, destined not to return to Byzantium, III. xi. 30; chosen tyrant by the mutineers, IV. xv. 1; marches on Carthage, IV. xv. 2; invites the Vandals to join his army, IV. xv. 3, 4; demands the surrender of Carthage, IV. xv. 5; kills the envoy Joseph, and besieges Carthage, IV. xv. 8; addresses his troops, IV. xv. 30-39; defeated by Belisarius, IV. xv. 40 ff.; his forces gather in Numidia, IV. xv. 50; the Romans march against him at Gazophyla, IV. xv. 52; comes alone into the Roman army and addresses the soldiers, IV. xv. 53-57; received with favour, IV. xv. 58; kills the Roman commanders in a sanctuary, IV. xv. 59; eager to fight a battle with Germanus, IV. xvi. 8; approaches Carthage, hoping for defection from there, IV. xvi. 9, 10; his hopes falsified, IV. xvii. 1; defeated by Germanus at Scalae Veteres, IV. xvii. 3 ff.; escapes with a few men, IV. xvii. 24; hopes to renew the battle with the help of the Moors, IV. xvii. 32; makes his escape with difficulty, IV. xvii. 33; suffers another defeat, IV. xvii. 34; withdraws to Mauritania and marries the daughter of a Moorish chief, IV. xvii. 35; the end of his mutiny, _ibid._; IV. xix. 3; joins Antalas, IV. xxii. 5, xxiii. 1; receives Roman captives, IV. xxiii. 10, 17; joins the Moors in plundering Libya, IV. xxiii. 26-31; Areobindus sends an army against him, IV. xxiv. 6; his enmity against John, IV, xxiv. 9; mortally wounded by him in battle, IV. xxiv. 11; carried out of the battle, IV. xxiv. 12; his death, IV. xxiv. 14; succeeded by John as tyrant of the mutineers, IV. xxv. 3 Syllectus, city in Libya, III. xvi. 9; captured by Belisarius' men, III. xvi. 11; entered by the Roman army, III. xvii. 6 Symmachus, a Roman senator; accompanies Germanus to Libya, IV. xvi. 2; summoned to Byzantium, IV. xix. 1 Syracuse, city in Sicily, III. xiv. 13; its harbour Arethusa, III. xiv. 11; Procopius sent thither, III. xiv. 3, 7; Belisarius passes the winter there, IV. xiv. 4, 41; distance from Caucana, III. xiv. 4 Taenarum, called Caenopolis in Procopius' time; promontory of the Peloponnesus, III. xiii. 8; Gizeric repulsed from there, III. xxii. 16 Tamougadis, a city at the foot of Mt. Aurasium; dismantled by the Moors, IV. xiii. 26, xix. 20 Tattimuth, sent in command of an army to Tripolis, III. x. 23; receives support from Belisarius, IV. v. 10 Taulantii, a people of Illyricum, III. ii. 9 Tebesta, city in Libya; distance from Carthage, IV. xxi. 19 Terentius, Roman commander of infantry, III. xi. 7, IV. xv. 50 Theoderic, king of the Goths; gives his daughter in marriage to the king of the Vandals, and makes certain concessions in Sicily, III. viii. 11-13, IV. v. 21; becomes hostile to the Vandals, III. ix. 3; refrains from attacking them III. ix. 5; his death, III. xiv. 6; grandfather of Antalaric, _ibid._; brother of Amalafrida, III. viii. 11, 13 Theodora, wife of Justinian; distributes rewards to Gelimer and others, IV. ix. 13 Theodorus, youngest son of Gizeric; his death, III. v. 11 Theodorus, called Cteanus, commander of infantry, III. xi. 7 Theodorus, commander of guards; sent to the top of Mt. Bourgaon by Solomon, IV. xii. 17; killed by the mutineers, IV. xiv. 35; his excellent qualities as a soldier, _ibid._ Theodorus, the Cappadocian; sent to Libya with an army, IV. viii. 24; sent by Solomon to quiet the mutineers, IV. xiv. 32; his enmity against Solomon, IV. xiv. 33; elected general by the mutineers, IV. xiv. 34; gives Solomon and Martinus dinner and helps them to escape, IV. xiv. 38; bidden by Solomon to take care of Carthage, IV. xiv. 41; refuses to surrender Carthage to Stotzas, IV. xv. 6; made joint ruler of Carthage with Ildiger, IV. xv. 49; at the battle of Scalae Veteres, IV. xvii. 6, 19; learns of the plot of Maximinus from Asclepiades, IV. xviii. 4 Theodosius I, Roman emperor, father of Arcadius and Honorius, III. i. 2; overthrows the tyranny of Maximus, III. iv. 16 Theodosius II, son of Arcadius; becomes emperor of the East, III. ii. 33, iii. 6; Honorius considers the possibility of finding refuge with him, III. ii. 32; rears Valentinian, III. iii. 5; makes him emperor of the West, III. iii. 8; sends an army against the tyrant John, _ibid._; his death, III. iv. 39; succeeded by Marcian, III. iv. 2, 10; father of Eudoxia, III. iv. 15 Thrace, starting point of Alaric's invasion, III. ii. 7; the Goths settle there for a time, III. ii. 39; home of several Roman commanders, III. xi. 10; adjoins "Germania," III. xi. 21; royal horse-pastures there, III. xii. 6; home of Himerius, IV. xxiii. 3; and of Peter, IV. xxviii. 3 Thessalian cape, or chlamys, III. xxv. 7 Theodatus, king of the Goths; Belisarius sent against him, IV. xiv. 1 Theudis, king of the Visigoths, IV. iv. 34; receives envoys from Gelimer, III. xxiv. 7-16 Tigisis, city in Numidia, IV. x. 21; two Phoenician inscriptions there, IV. x. 22; its great spring, IV. xiii. 5 Titus, Roman emperor, IV. ix. 2; his capture of Jerusalem, IV. ix. 5; son of Vespasian, _ibid._ Toumar, place on the summit of Mt. Aurasium, IV. xix. 22; besieged by the Romans, IV. xx. 1 ff.; scaled by Gezon and captured by Solomon, IV. xx. 1-20 Trajan, Roman emperor, IV. ix. 2 Trasamundus, brother of Gundamundus; becomes king of the Vandals, III. viii. 8; tries to win over the Christians, III. viii. 9, 10; asks the hand of Amalafrida, III. viii. 11; becomes a friend of Anastasius, III. viii. 14; his death, III. viii. 29 Tricamarum, place in Libya; distance from Carthage, IV. ii. 4; Vandals defeated there, IV. iii. 1 ff., iv. 35, v. 2, 9 Tripolis, district in Libya; distance from Gadira, III. i. 14; the Vandals there defeated by Heraclius, III. vi. 9, 11; Moors dwelling there, III. viii. 15; lost again by the Vandals, III. x. 22-24; Gelimer hopeless of recovering it, III. xi. 22; Belisarius sends an army thither, IV. v. 10; rule of, falls to Sergius, IV. xxi. 1; Leuathae come from there with a large army, IV. xxviii. 47 Troy, III. xxi. 4 Tryphon, sent to Libya to assess the taxes, IV. viii. 25 Tuscan Sea, separated from the Adriatic by Gaulus and Melita, III. xiv. 16; severity of its storms, IV. iv. 37 Tzazon, brother of Gelimer; sent with an army to recover Sardinia, III. xi. 23; overthrows and kills Godas in Sardinia, III. xxiv. 1; writes to Gelimer, III. xxiv. 2-4; receives a letter from him, III. xxv. 10-18; thereupon departs for Libya, III. xxv. 19-21; meets Gelimer in the Plain of Boulla, III. xxv. 24; addresses his troops separately, IV. ii. 23-32; commands the centre at the battle of Tricamarum, IV. in. 1, 8, 10, 12; his death, IV. iii. 14; his head taken to Sardinia by Cyril, IV. v. 2, 4 Uliaris, body-guard of Belisarius, III. xix. 23; his stupid action at Decimum, III. xix. 24; kills John the Armenian accidentally, IV, iv. 15 ff.; takes refuge in a sanctuary, IV. iv. 21; spared by Belisarius, IV. iv. 25 Ulitheus, trusted body-guard of Gontharis, IV. xxv. 8; bears messages to Antalas, IV. xxv. 8-11, 19; at Gontharis' order assassinates Areobindus, IV. xxvi. 32, 33, xxvii. 20; marches with Artabanes against Antalas, IV. xxvii. 25 ff.; killed by Artasires at the banquet of Gontharis, IV. xxviii. 19 ff. Valentinian, son of Constantius, reared by Theodosius, III. iii. 5; made emperor of the West, III. iii. 8; captures John and after brutal abuse kills him, III. iii. 9; his viciousness resulting from early training, III. iii. 10, 11; loses Libya to the empire, III. iii. 12; receives tribute and a hostage from Gizeric, III. iv. 13; returns the hostage, III. iv. 14; slays Aetius, III. iv. 27; outrages the wife of Maximus, III. iv. 16 ff.; slain by him, III. iv. 15, 36; son of Placidia, III. iii. 10; father of Eudocia and Placidia, III. v. 3, vi. 6; husband of Eudoxia, III. iv. 15; members of his family receive rewards from Justinian and Theodora, IV. ix. 13 Valerian, commander of auxiliaries, III. xi. 6; sent with Martinus in advance of the African expedition, III. xi. 24, 29; meets the Roman fleet at Methone, III. xiii. 9; on the left wing at the battle of Tricamarum, IV. iii. 4; Martinus sent to him in Numidia, IV. xiv. 40; summoned to Byzantium, IV. xix. 2 Vandals, a Gothic people, III. ii. 2; whence they came into the Roman empire, III. i. 1, iii. 1 ff.; a portion of them left behind and lost to memory, III. xxii. 3, 13; settle in Spain, III. iii. 2; their alliance sought by Boniface, III. iii. 22, 25; cross from Spain into Libya, III. iii. 26; defeat Boniface in battle, III. iii. 31; besiege Hippo Regius, III. iii. 32, 34; defeat a second Roman army, III. iii. 35; secure possession of Libya, III. xxii. 4; send Moors to Sardinia, IV. xiii. 43; take the church of St. Cyprian at Carthage from the Christians, III. xxi. 19; invade Italy and sack Rome, III. v. 1 ff.; their numbers together with the Alani, III. v. 18-20; absorb all barbarian peoples associated with them except the Moors, III. v. 21; Leon sends an expedition against them, III. vi. 1 ff.; driven out of Sardinia by Marcellianus; III. vi. 8; defeated in Tripolis by Heraclius, III. vi. 9; lost Mt. Aurasium to the Moors, IV. xiii. 26; enter into an "endless peace" with the emperor Zeno, III. vii. 26; make war on the Moors, III. viii. 1, 2; suffer a great disaster at the hands of the Moors, III. viii. 15-28; defeated by the Moors, and become enemies of the Goths, III. ix. 3; defeated many times by the Moors, IV. x. 29; Justinian prepares an expedition against them, III. x. 1 ff.; lose Tripolis, III. x. 22-24; and Sardinia, III. x. 25-27; letter addressed to them by Justinian, III. xvi. 12-14; recover Sardinia, III. xxiv. 1; defeated by the Romans at Decimum, III. xviii. 1 ff.; greatly feared by the Roman army III. xix. 27; collected by Gelimer in the Plain of Boulla, III. xxv. 1 ff.; besiege Carthage, IV. i. 3; invite the Huns to join them, IV. i. 5; defeated by the Romans at Tricamarum, IV. ii. 4 ff.; taken to Byzantium by Belisarius, IV. xiv. 17; some of them go to the East, while the others escape to Libya, IV. xiv. 17-19; together with their women, sent out of Libya, IV. xix. 3; upon invitation of Stotzas, join the mutineers, IV. xv. 3, 4; accumulate great wealth in Africa, IV. iii. 26; not trusted by the Libyans, III. xvi. 3; their effeminacy as a nation, IV. vi. 5-9; their women, as wives of the Romans, incite them to mutiny, IV. xiv. 8, 9; priests of, incite Romans of Arian faith to mutiny, IV. xiv. 13; Vandals' estates, established by Gizeric, III. v. 12; Vandals of Justinian, IV. xiv. 17 Veredarii (Latin), royal messengers, III. xvi. 12 Vespasian, Roman emperor, father of Titus, IV. ix. 5 Vigilantia, mother of Prejecta, and sister of Justinian, IV. xxiv. 3 Visigoths, a Gothic people, III. ii. 2; their alliance with Arcadius, III. ii. 7; the destruction wrought by them in Italy, III. ii. 11-12; settle in Spain, III. iii. 26; IV. iv. 34; invited to form alliance with the Vandals, III. xxiv. 7 Zabe, called "First Mauritania"; subjugated by Solomon, IV. xx. 30 Zacynthus, island off the coast of Greece, III. xiii. 21; its inhabitants the victims of Gizeric's atrocity, III. xxii. 15, 17, 18 Zaïdus, commander of Roman infantry, III. xi. 7 Zaunus, son of Paresmanes, and father of Leontius and Rufinus, IV. xix. 1, xx. 19 Zeno, emperor of the East; husband of Ariadne, and father of Leon the younger, III. vii. 2; shares the empire with his infant son, III. vii. 3; flees into Isauria, III. vii. 18; gathers an army and marches against Basiliscus, III. vii. 20; meets Harmatus and receives the army by surrender, III. vii. 21; captures Basiliscus and banishes him, III. vii. 22, 24; becomes emperor a second time, III. vii. 23; kills Harmatus, _ibid._; forms a compact with Gizeric, III. vii. 26 Zerboule, fortress on Mt. Aurasium, IV. xix. 19, 20; besieged by the Romans, IV. xix. 23-27; abandoned by the Moors, IV. xix. 28-32 * * * * * * Transcriber's Note: Periods added in index to some instances of Roman numerals to conform to rest of index. Index Errata: Under Adriatic Sea "Melite" should read "Melita" "Apollonaris" should read "Apollonarius" "Arethusa" should read "Arethousa" (also under Syracuse) Under Ariadne "Zenon" should read "Zeno" Also under: Basiliscus, brother of Berine Basiliscus, son of Harmatus Gizeric Harmatus Leon the younger "Atalaric" should be "Antalaric" Under Atalaric "Amalasuntha" should be "Amalasountha" "Centenarium" should be "Centenaria" "Dromon" should be "Dromone" "Gepaides" should be "Gepaedes" Also under: Singidunum Sirmium Under Gizeric "Olyvrius" should be "Olybrius" Also under: Olyvrius Placidia "Heraclius" should be "Heracleius" also under: Tripolis Vandals Under Iaudas "Mephanius" should be "Mephanias" "Iourpouthes" should be "Iourphothes" Under John, the mutineer, "Pamphilus" should be "Pasiphilus" "Juppiter" should be "Jupiter" Under Leontius "Zaunus" should be "Zaunas" Also under: Zaunus "Leptes" should be "Leptis" "Medeos" should be "Medeus" "Medissinissas" should be "Medisinissas" Under Zaunus "Paresmanes" should be "Pharesmanes" 
41929	----	Transcriber's Note: Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have been preserved. Inconsistent punctuation in the ads section has been left as printed. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by =equal signs=. ARETHUSA [Illustration: ARETHUSA] ARETHUSA BY F. MARION CRAWFORD AUTHOR OF "SARACINESCA," "A LADY OF ROME," ETC., ETC. _WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY GERTRUDE DEMAIN HAMMOND_ New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD. 1907 _All rights reserved_ COPYRIGHT, 1906, 1907, BY THE PHILLIPS PUBLISHING CO. COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY F. MARION CRAWFORD. Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1907. Norwood Press J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith Co. Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. THE STORY-TELLER OF THE BAZAAR DEDICATES THIS TALE OF CONSTANTINOPLE TO HIS DEAR DAUGHTER ELEANOR LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Arethusa _Frontispiece_ FACING PAGE He was talking with an old beggar woman 30 She tenderly kissed the wrinkled face 44 'Yes,' replied the negress. 'Rustan is very affectionate. He says that I am his Zoë, his "life," because he would surely die of starvation without me!' 66 'Tell me your story,' he said in a lower tone. 'Do not be afraid! no one shall hurt you.' 88 'Forty ducats!' cried Omobono, casting up his eyes, and preparing to bargain for at least half an hour 94 All sorts of confused thoughts crowded her brain, as Zeno sat down on a seat beside the divan 108 There was something so oddly fixed in his look and so dull in his voice that Omobono began to fear that he might be a lunatic 128 'I know them,' Zoë answered. 'If I am not telling you the truth, sell me in the market to-morrow.' 164 'I did not mean to love you!' 194 The captain's wife obeyed, less frightened than she had been at first 218 Saw her sink down there exhausted, and draw a heavy silk shawl across her body 240 'Tell me what you see,' she said to the maids 262 'Yes!' roared the Tartar. 'Ten thousand ducats! And if I do not find the money in the house, you two must find it in yours! Do you understand?' 274 Then, all at once, he felt that she had received one of those inspirations of the practical sense which visit women who are driven to extremities 310 'Am I not your bought slave?' she asked. 'I must obey.' 352 CHAPTER I Carlo Zeno, gentleman of Venice, ex-clerk, ex-gambler, ex-soldier of fortune, ex-lay prebendary of Patras, ex-duellist, and ex-Greek general, being about twenty-nine years of age, and having in his tough body the scars of half-a-dozen wounds that would have killed an ordinary man, had resolved to turn over a new leaf, had become a merchant, and was established in Constantinople in the year 1376. He had bought a house in the city itself because the merchants of Genoa all dwelt in the town of Pera, on the other side of the Golden Horn. A Venetian could not have lived in the same place with Genoese, for the air would have poisoned him, to a certainty; and besides, the sight of a Genoese face, the sound of the Genoese dialect, the smell of Genoese cookery, were all equally sickening to any one brought up in the lagoons. Genoa was not fit to be mentioned within hearing of polite Venetian ears, its very name was unspeakable by decent Venetian lips; and even to pronounce the syllables for purposes of business was horribly unlucky. Therefore Carlo Zeno and his friends had taken up their abode in the old city, amongst the Greeks and the Bokharians, the Jews and the Circassians, and they left the Genoese to themselves in Pera, pretending that they did not even exist. It was not always easy to keep up the pretence, it is true, for Zeno had extremely good eyes and could not help seeing those abominations of mankind on the other side of the Golden Horn when he sat in his balcony on spring evenings; and his only consolation was to dream of destroying them wholesale, of hewing them in pieces by the hundred and the thousand, and of piling up pyramids of their ugly grinning heads. Why were they Genoese? Carlo Zeno would rather have taken a box on the ear from Sultan Amurad, the Turk, over there in Asia Minor, than a civil word from the least objectionable of those utterly unspeakable monsters of Genoese. 'Behold,' said Tertullian one day in scorn, 'how these Christians love one another.' Matters had not improved in eleven hundred years, since that learned Doctor of the Church had departed this life, presumably for a more charitable world; but Carlo Zeno would have answered that the Genoese were no more Christians than mules, and much less so than the pigs, which are all under the special protection of the blessed Saint Anthony. At the very time, too, when my story begins, those obnoxious villains of Genoa were on the successful side of a revolution; for they had helped Emperor Andronicus to imprison his father, Emperor John, in the tall Amena tower on the north side of the city, by the Golden Horn, and to lock up his two younger brothers in a separate dungeon. It was true that Emperor John had ordered Andronicus and his little son of five to be blinded with boiling vinegar, but Genoese money had miraculously converted the vinegar into bland white wine, and had reduced the temperature from the boiling point to that of a healthful lotion, so that neither the boy nor the man were any the worse after the application than before; but Andronicus had resented the mere intention on the part of his father, and had avenged himself by taking the Empire, such as it was, for the present, while reserving the delight of murdering his parent and his brothers at a convenient season in the future. All this was very well, no doubt, and Andronicus was undisputed Emperor for the time being, because the Genoese and Sultan Amurad were willing that he should be; but Amurad had not always been his friend, and the Genoese had not always had the upper hand of the Venetians; the wind might change in a moment and a tempest might whirl him away from the throne even more quickly than the fair breeze had wafted him towards it. Zeno thought so too, and wondered whether it would please fate to make him the spirit of the storm. He cared very little about Handsome John, as Paleologus was nicknamed, but he cared a great deal for a possible chance of driving the Genoese out of Pera and of getting the island of Tenedos for the Venetian Republic. And now he had transacted the business of the day, and had dined on a roasted palamit, for it was a Friday and the palamit is the best fish that swims, from the Dardanelles to the Black Sea; and Zeno would no more have eaten meat on a day of abstinence than he would have sat down to table with a Genoese. He had been brought up to be a churchman, and though the attempt to make a priest of him had failed for obvious reasons, he was constant in observing those little rules and regulations which he had been taught to believe conducive to salvation, seeing that he was of a rash temper, prone to seek danger, and never sure of coming home alive when it pleased him to walk abroad. He was not a quarrelsome man on his own account, but he had a most wonderful facility for taking up the quarrels of other people who seemed to be in the right. The more hopeless the just case, or cause, the more certain it was that Carlo Zeno would take it up and fight for it as if it were his own. But now, if ever, he was peacefully inclined; for the palamit had been done to a turn by the Dalmatian cook; the salad which had followed it had been composed to his liking, with shredded red peppers, pickled olives, anchovies, and cardamom seeds, all mixed among the crisp lettuce; and the draught of wine that had finished the meal had gleamed in the Murano glass like spirit of gold, and the flavour of it, as he had thoughtfully sipped it, had made him think of the scent that still sunshine draws from fruit hanging on vine and tree. He sat in a deep chair on his covered balcony, and was conscious that for the moment peace and privacy were almost as delightful as the best fight in the world. It would have been impossible to say more than that. The sun was low, for the spring days were not yet long, and the shadow of the city already fell across the deep blue water of the Golden Horn. Zeno gazed down at the moving scene; his keen brown eyes watched the boats gliding by and softened, for what he saw made him think of Venice, the lagoons, and his home. Of all people, the most incorrigible wanderer is generally the most hopelessly sentimental about his native place. Zeno had brown eyes that could soften like a woman's, but they were much more often keen and quick, turning suddenly to take in at a glance all that could be seen at all, until they fixed themselves with a piercing gaze on whatever interested their owner most for the time being,--his friend, or his adversary, his quarry if he were hunting, a woman's face or figure. He was not a big man, but he was thoroughly well made and well put together, elastic, tough, and active. His small brown hands, compact and firm, seemed ready to seize or strike at instant notice--the ideal hands of a fighting man. There was the same ready and fearless look in his clean-shaven face and small, energetic head, and when he moved his least motion betrayed the same gifts. Women did not think him handsome in those days, when the idea of beauty in man or woman alike was associated with fair or auburn hair and milk-white skin and cherry lips. In fact, Carlo Zeno hardly showed his lips at all, his thick hair was almost black, and his complexion was already as tanned and weather-stained as an old sailor's. But like many men of action he was careful of his dress, and extremely fastidious in his ways. In the ranks, the greatest dandies are often the best soldiers, explain the fact as you will. Some officers say that such men are far too vain to run away. Many a French noble who perished on the scaffold in the revolution bestowed more of his last moments on his toilet than he devoted to his prayers, and died like a hero and a gentleman. There are defects, like vanity, which may sometimes pass for virtues. Carlo Zeno was one of those men whose outward appearance is little affected by what they do, on whom the dust and heat of travel seem to leave no trace; who are invariably clean, neat, and fresh, the envy and despair of ordinary people. His dark-red velvet cap was always set on his thick hair at the same angle, and its sheen was as speckless as if dust did not exist. The narrow miniver border of his wine-coloured cloth coat was never ragged or worn at the edges; the fine linen, gathered at his throat and wrists, never betrayed the least suspicion of dinginess; the mud of Constantinople never clung to the soft Bulgarian leather of his well-made shoes. Just now, the latter were stuck out in front of him as he leaned back in his deep chair and stretched his legs, asking himself vaguely whether he could be contented for any long time with the quiet life he was leading. As if in answer to the question, his clerk and secretary, an important little grey-bearded personage, appeared on the balcony at that very moment with a letter in his hand. 'From Venice, sir,' said Omobono--that was his name--'and by the handwriting and the seal I judge it is written by Messer Marco Pesaro.' Zeno frowned and then smiled, as he generally did at the manifestations of Omobono's incorrigible curiosity. It was the only defect of a most excellent person who was indispensable to Zeno's daily life, and invaluable in his business. Omobono had the sad and gentle face of an honest man who has failed on his own account, but whose excellent qualities are immensely serviceable to stronger men. Zeno took the letter and glanced towards the harbour, far to the right of his house. Omobono made a short step backwards, but kept his eyes fixed on the paper. 'No foreign vessel has anchored to-day,' said the merchant; 'who brought this?' 'The captain of a Venetian ship, sir, which is anchored outside, before the Port of Theodosius.' Zeno nodded carelessly as he cut the string. The letter was written on strong cotton paper from Padua, folded six times and secured by twisted hemp threads, of which the final knot had been squeezed into red wax and flattened under a heavy seal. Omobono watched his employer quietly, hoping to learn that he had rightly guessed the correspondent's name. Zeno, intent on reading, paid no attention to the secretary, who gradually edged nearer until he could almost make out the words. This was what Zeno read, in very long sentences and in the Venetian dialect:-- MOST BELOVED AND HONOURED FRIEND--I despatch this writing by the opportunity of Sebastian Cornèr's good ship, sailing to-morrow, with the help of God, for Constantinople with a cargo of Florence cloth, Dalmatian linen, crossbows, Venetian lace, straw hats, and blind nightingales. May the Lord preserve the vessel, the crew, and the cargo from those unmentionable dogs of Genoese, and bring all safely to the end of the voyage within two months. The cloth, lace, and straw hats are mine, the rest of the cargo belongs to Sebastian Cornèr, except the nightingales, which are a gift from the Most Serene Republic to his majesty the Emperor, together with the man who takes care of the birds. What I say of my share in the cargo, most noble friend, is not as in the way of boasting myself a wealthy merchant, for indeed I am by no means rich, though by my constant industry, my sleepless watchfulness, and my honest dealing I have saved a crust of bread. Nay, I say it rather because I come with a request to you, and in order that you may know that there will be money due to me in Constantinople for the sale of this cargo, through the house of Marin Cornèr, the brother of Sebastian, who will pay you on your demand, most beloved and honoured friend, the sum of three hundred gold ducats. For I feel sure that you will undertake the business I ask, for love of me and a commission of a lira of piccoli for each ducat. I desire, in fact, that you will buy for me the most handsome slave that can be had for the money I offer, or even, if the girl were surpassingly beautiful, for three hundred and fifty ducats. The truth is, most noble friend, that my wife, who is, as you know, ten years older than I, and impeded by rheumatisms, is in need of a youthful and accomplished companion to help her to pass the time, and as I have always made it my duty and my business to fulfil and even, as in the present case, to anticipate her wishes, I am willing to spend this large sum of money for the sole purpose of pleasing her. Moreover I turn to you, most dear sir and friend, well knowing that your kindness is only matched by your fine taste. My wife would, I am sure, prefer as a companion a girl with fine natural hair, either quite black or very fair, the red auburn colour being so common here as to make one almost wish that women would not dye their hair at all. My dear and honoured friend, the teeth are a very important matter; pray give your most particular attention to their whiteness and regularity, for my wife is very fastidious. And also, I entreat you, choose a slave with small ankles, not larger than you can span with your thumb and middle finger. My wife will care less about a very small waist, though if it be naturally slender it is certainly a point of beauty. In all this, dearest sir, employ for love of me those gifts of discernment with which heaven has so richly endowed you, and I trust you will consider the commission a fair one. Sebastian Cornèr, who is an old man, will take charge of the slave and bring her to Venice, if you will only see that she is properly protected and fed until he is ready to sail, and this at the usual rate. I have also agreed with him that she is not to be lodged in the common cabin with the other female slaves whom he will bring from the Black Sea on his own account, but separately and with better food, lest she should grow unpleasingly thin. Yet it is understood that his regular slave-master is to be responsible for her protection, and will watch over her behaviour during the voyage. This, my most worthy, dear and honourable sir and friend, is the commission which I beg you to undertake; and in this and all your other affairs I pray that the hand of Providence, the intercession of the saints, and the wisdom of the one hundred and eighteen Nicene fathers may be always with you. From Venice. Marco Pesaro to the most noble patrician, Carlo Zeno, his friend. The fourteenth day of March in the year 1376. Zeno smiled repeatedly as he read the letter, but he did not look up till he had finished it. His eyes met those of his secretary, who was now much nearer than before. 'Omobono,' said Zeno gravely, 'curiosity is unbecoming in a man of your years. With your grey beard and solemn air you are as prying and curious as a girl.' Omobono looked contritely at his folded hands and moved the left one slowly within the right. 'Alas, sir,' he answered, 'I know it. I would that these hands held but a thousandth part of what my eyes have seen.' 'They would be rich if they did,' observed Zeno bluntly. 'It is fortunate that with your uncommon taste for other men's affairs you can at least keep something to yourself. Since you have no doubt mastered the contents of this letter as well as I----' The good man protested. 'Indeed, sir, how could I have read a single word at this distance? Try for yourself, sir, for your eyes are far younger and better than mine.' 'Younger,' answered Zeno, 'but hardly better. And now send for Barlaam, the Syrian merchant, and bid him come quickly, for he may do business with me before the sun sets.' 'He will not do business to-day,' answered Omobono. 'This is Friday, which the Muslemin keep holy.' 'So much the worse for Barlaam. He will miss a good bargain. Send for Abraham of Smyrna, the Jewish caravan-broker.' 'He will not do business either,' said Omobono, 'for to-morrow is Sabbath, and Shabbes begins on Friday evening.' 'In the name of the blessed Mark our Evangelist, then send me some Christian, for Sunday cannot begin on Friday, even in Constantinople.' 'There is Rustan Karaboghazji, the Bokharian,' suggested Omobono. Zeno looked sharply at the secretary. 'The slave-dealer?' he enquired. Omobono nodded, but he reddened a little, poor man, and looked down at his hands again, for he had betrayed himself, after protesting that he knew nothing of the contents of the letter. Zeno laughed gaily. 'You are a good man, Omobono,' he said. 'You could not deceive a child. Do you happen to have heard that Rustan has what Messer Marco wants?' But Omobono shook his head and grew still redder. 'Indeed, sir,--I--I do not know what your friend wants--I only guessed----' 'A very good guess, Omobono. If I could guess the future as you can the present, I should be a rich man. Yes, send for Rustan. I believe he will do better for me than the Jew or the Mohammedan.' 'They say here that it takes ten Jews to cheat a Greek, and ten Greeks to cheat a Bokharian, sir,' said Omobono. 'To say nothing of those Genoese swine who cheat the whole Eastern Empire! What chance have we poor Venetians in such a place?' 'May heaven send the Genoese the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah, and the halter of Judas Iscariot!' prayed Omobono very devoutly. 'By all means,' returned Zeno, 'I hope so. Now send for the Bokharian.' Omobono bowed and left the balcony, and his employer leaned back in his chair again, still holding the folded paper in his hand. His expressive face wore a look of amusement for a while, but presently it turned into something more like good-natured contempt, as his thoughts went back from his secretary's last speech, to Marco Pesaro and his letter. This Pesaro was a fat little man of forty, who had married a rich widow ten years older than himself. Carlo Zeno had known him well before he had been married, a boon companion, a jolly good-for-nothing who loved the society of younger men, and did them no good by example or precept. His father and mother had both perished in the great plague that raged in the year when Zeno was born, and Marco had been brought up by two old aunts who doted on him. The result usual in such cases had followed in due time; he had spent his own fortune and what he inherited from his aunts, who died conveniently, and when near forty he had found himself penniless, a poor relation of a great family, none the worse in health for nearly a quarter of a century of gaiety and feasting, and in temper much inclined to lead the same life for at least another twenty years. The heart was young yet, the round, pink face was absurdly youthful still, but the purse was in a state of permanent collapse, without any prospect of recovery. Then Marco sold everything he had, down to the sword which he had never drawn, and the jewelled dagger which had never done any worse damage than to cut the string of a love-letter; he sold his last silver spoons, his silver drinking-cup and the gold chain and ball from his cloak, and with the proceeds he gave a dozen of his friends one last farewell feast. Then, on the following day, his spirit broken and resigned to his fate, he offered himself to the very rich, elderly, and devout widow who had been making eyes at him for six months, and he was promptly accepted. With some of her money he engaged in the Eastern trade, renounced the follies of his youth, and became a respectable merchant. It was affluence, it was luxury, but it was slavery and he knew it, and accepted the fact at first with much philosophy. Surely, he said to himself, a good cook and a good cellar, with a fine house at San Cassian, and a virtuous, if elderly, wife ought to satisfy any man of forty. The rest was but vanity. Could anything be more absurd, at his age, than to go on for ever playing the butterfly--such an elderly butterfly!--from one pair of bright eyes to another? But he had counted without the fact that the butterfly is the final development of its genus and cannot turn into anything else. It must be a butterfly to the end. Poor Marco soon found that his heart was as susceptible as ever, and could beat like a boy's on very slight provocation, but that unfortunately it was never his rich wife who provoked it to such unseemly and lively action. Yet her facial angle inspired him with a terror even greater than the attraction of a pretty face and a well-turned figure. She had a way of setting her thin lips over her prominent teeth which at the same time stretched the skin upon the bridge of her hooked nose while she looked at him from under her half-closed lids, that made his blood run cold, robbed the richest sauce of its delicious flavour, and turned the wine of Samos to vinegar in his glass. Daily, she grew older, sharper, more irritable; and daily, too, the heart of Marco Pesaro seemed to grow younger and the more to crave the companionship of a mate much younger still, or at least the near presence of those outward, visible, and tangible gifts of the gods, such as a deep warm eye, and a soft white hand, with which man has always associated the heart of woman. Zeno guessed all this and the rest too; the letter he had received needed no further explanation, and for old acquaintance's sake he had no objection to executing the commission Marco had thrust upon him. And now, all you who stop and gather round the story-teller in this world's great bazaar, to listen, if his tale please you, and to find fault with him if it does not, you cry out that if Carlo Zeno was really the hero history describes him to have been, he would have been very, very grieved at being asked to do anything so inhuman as to buy a pretty slave abroad to be sent home to a friend, even though the latter protested that the girl was to be trained as a companion for his wife. He would have been grieved and angry, he would have torn the letter to shreds, and would either not have answered it at all, or would have written to tell Pesaro that he was a brute, that men and women are all free and equal, and that to buy and sell them is high treason against the majesty of the rights of men. But to those protests and outcries the story-teller has many answers ready. In the first place, no one had even dreamt of the rights of men in 1376; and secondly, the trade in white slaves was almost as profitable to Venice then as it is in 1906 to certain great states the story-teller could name, with the advantage that there was no hypocritical secret about it, and that it was provided for in international treaties, in spite of the Pope, who said it was wrong; and thirdly, heroes are heroes for ever in respect of their heroic deeds, but in their daily lives they are very much like the other men of their class and time, as you will soon learn if you read the life of Bayard, 'without fear or reproach,' written by his Faithful Servitor; for the faithful one set down some doings of the virtuous knight which a modern biographer would have altogether left out, but which were no more a 'reproach' to a man in the year 1500, than getting drunk was a 'reproach' in 1700, or than stealing anything over a million is a 'reproach' to-day; fourthly and lastly, if Zeno had virtuously refused to buy a slave for Marco Pesaro, there would have been no story to tell, and this seems an excellent argument to the story-teller himself. Zeno's thoughts soon wandered from Pesaro and the letter, and followed the old thread of life in Venice, till it led his soul through the labyrinth of daily existence far out into the dreamland beyond; and the place of his dreams was a calm and resplendent water, where stately palaces rose through vapours of purple and gold against an evening sky. Over the lagoon came music of old chimes from San Giorgio, and the deeper bells of Venice answered back again; at the instant the sunset breeze floated off the land and breathed into the dyed sails of the Istrians without a sound, so that the boats began to move by magic, gliding out one by one with a soft, low rush, heard only for a moment, as of a woman's hand drawn across silk. The mere thought of Venice called up the vision of her before the inward eye of his heart; for he loved his native city better than he had ever loved any woman yet, and much better than his own life. When he could think of Venice, until the broad expanse of the lagoon seemed to spread itself over the deeper and darker waters of the Golden Horn, and when he could fancy himself at home, he was supremely and calmly happy, and would not have changed his dream for any reality except its own. CHAPTER II Omobono had drawn on a pair of well-greased raw-hide boots that came half-way up his thin legs, and had wrapped himself in his big brown cloak before going out. On his smooth grey head he wore a soft felt hat, the brim turned up round the crown at the back but pulled out to a long point in front, and he carried a tough cornel stick in his right hand. He had been careful to leave in the strong box the purse that contained money belonging to his employer, and had but a few small coins of his own in his wallet to pay a ferryman if he should need one, or to give to a hungry beggar. Like most men who have failed to make money Omobono was very sorry for poor people, and did not believe that all beggars could be rich if they would work. But he was poor himself, and his charity was of the humble kind. There was a fairly broad street behind Carlo Zeno's house, and here the early spring sun had dried the mud to something like a solid surface; but Omobono followed this thoroughfare only for a little distance, and then turned into a narrow and filthy lane that led to other lanes, and to others still beyond, all crowded with humanity, all dark and muddy, all foul with garbage, all reeking with the overpowering smell of Eastern cooking made up of garlic, frying onions, sour cream, oil of sesame, and roasting mutton where there were Jews or Mohammedans, or fried fish where Christians lived, since it was Friday. The small wooden houses, black with smoke and the dampness of the past winter, overhung the way so that the opposite balconies of the second stories almost touched each other. Had the buildings been higher, scarcely any light at all would have reached the lower windows; as it was, a man with good eyes might just see to read at noon if he were not too far within. Omobono evidently knew his way well enough, for he did not pause as he threaded the labyrinth, and only now and then glanced up at certain dingy signs that hung from the crazy wooden balconies, or from wooden arms that stuck out here and there like gallows from the walls. As he walked, he was chiefly occupied in not running against the people he met, and in not stepping upon the half-naked children that squirmed and squalled in the mud before every doorstep. For there were children everywhere, children and dirt, dirt and children, all of much the same colour in those dusky lanes. Near almost every open door the slatternly mother stirred a dark mess of some sort over a little earthen pan of coals, or toasted gobbets of fat mutton on a black iron fork, or fried some wretched fish in boiling oil. The Christian women were by far the dirtiest, and their children were the least healthy and the most neglected, for many of the little creatures had not a stitch of clothing on them. Most decent were the Mohammedans; they had already the bearing and the self-respect of the conquering race, and they treated their Greek and Bokharian neighbours with silent contempt. Did not Sultan Amurad, over there on the Asian shore, make and unmake these miserable little Greek emperors as he pleased? If he chose could he not take Constantinople and turn a stream of Christian blood into the Golden Horn that would redden the Sea of Marmora as far as Antigone and Prinkipo? Omobono went on and on, picking his way as he might, and little noticed by the people. He was not by any means in the poorest quarter of the city, and no one begged of him as he went by. If he thought of anything except of not setting his booted foot down on some child's sprawling leg or arm, he thanked heaven and the saints that he had been born a Venetian, and had been washed and sent to school like a Christian boy when he was little instead of having first seen the light, or what passed for light, in a back street of Constantinople. He turned another corner, entered a lane even narrower than those he had yet traversed, but almost deserted, and much less dark because one side of it was occupied by a wall not more than ten feet high, in which only one small door was to be seen. Along the top of the masonry all sorts of sharp bits of rusty iron and a quantity of broken crockery were set in mortar with the evident intention of discouraging any attempt to climb over, either from within or from without. The door itself was in good repair, and had been recently coated with tar and sharp sand by way of preserving it against the damp. A well-worn horizontal slit an inch long, and an upright one a foot higher up, showed that it had two separate Persian locks into which keys were often thrust. Omobono rapped on the tarred wood with the iron-shod end of his stick and listened. He could hear a number of girls' voices chattering, and one was singing softly in a language he did not understand. He knocked again, a moment later the voices were suddenly silent, and he heard the clacking of heavy slippers on wet flags as some one came to open. 'Who knocks?' asked a deep and harsh female voice from within, in the Greek tongue but with a thick accent. 'A Venetian who has business with the worthy Karaboghazji,' answered Omobono in a conciliatory tone. 'Which Karaboghazji?' enquired the voice suspiciously. 'Rustan,' explained Omobono mildly. From his voice, the woman probably judged that if he had come with any nefarious purpose she was more than a match for him. The door opened after some rattling and creaking of locks, and Omobono started in spite of himself. She was indeed a match for him, or for any other man who was likely to knock at the door. It was no wonder that the Venetian secretary drew back and hesitated before he spoke again. The woman was a huge red-haired negress in yellow, fully six feet tall in her heelless slippers, and her black arms, bare above the elbow, were as sinewy and muscular as any fisherman's or porter's. Her thick lips were parted in a sort of savage grin that showed two rows of teeth as sharp and white as a shark's; her hair must have been just dyed that day, for it was as red as flame to the very roots, and it stood out almost straight from her shiny black forehead and temples; as she rather contemptuously scrutinised Omobono from head to foot the whites of her coal-black eyes gleamed in a way that was positively terrifying. She wore wide Greek trousers of blue cotton, gathered at the ankle, and a wadded coat of yellow, that hung down below her knees in loose folds, like a sort of skirt, but fitted tightly over her tremendous shoulders. This garment was closely girded round her ample waist by a red sash, in which she carried her armoury, consisting of a serviceable Arab knife with a bone hilt and brass sheath, and a small whip made of a broad flat thong of hippopotamus hide with a short oak stock. This terrific apparition stood in the little vestibule holding the door open and grinning at Omobono. She had closed another door behind her before opening the outer one, for the slave-dealer's establishment was evidently managed with a view to the safety of his merchandise. 'And what do you want of Rustan Karaboghazji at this time of the afternoon?' enquired the negress. 'Who are you?' 'I am only a clerk,' answered Omobono in a deprecating tone, and shrinking a little under his cloak, as the awful virago thrust her head forward. 'I am the clerk of Messer Carlo Zeno, a rich Venetian merchant, who sends a message by me to your master----' 'My master!' interrupted the black woman, with a scornful laugh. 'My master, indeed!' 'I--I supposed----' faltered Omobono apologetically. The negress moved a little and rested one huge hand on her hip, while she slipped the other slowly up the door-post till it was above her head. In this attitude she looked gigantic. 'You mean my husband,' she said, showing all her teeth. 'Rustan Karaboghazji is my husband. Do you understand?' 'Yes, Kokóna--I--I mean Kyría--yes, certainly! I should have known at once that you were the mistress of the house if you had not condescended to open the door yourself, Kyría.' 'And what would become of the cattle,' enquired the negress with a backward toss of her head towards the yard behind her, 'if the stable door were in charge of a slave? If your master--' she dwelt on the two words contemptuously--'wishes to buy of us, he will have to come here and choose for himself.' 'No, no!' answered Omobono hastily. 'It is another matter. I think it is a commission for a friend. It is something very especial. That is why I beg to be allowed to speak with the Kyrios, your husband.' The black woman had listened attentively. 'At this hour,' she said after a moment's thought, 'Rustan is at his devotions.' 'I would not interrupt them for the world,' protested Omobono. 'I can wait----' 'No. You will probably find him at the church of Saint Sergius and Saint Bacchus. If he is not there, ask the sacristan where he is. My husband is a very devout man; the sacristan knows him well.' 'I hope,' said Omobono, whose curiosity scented a mystery, 'that the sacristan will not take me for an importunate stranger and send me on a fool's errand. If the Kyría would give me some sign by which the sacristan may know that I came from her----' Omobono paused on this suggestion, hoping for a favourable answer. Again the big woman waited a moment before speaking. 'Ask the sacristan to direct you to find Rustan Karaboghazji, by four toes and by five toes,' she said at last. 'He will certainly tell you the truth if you ask him in that way.' 'By four toes and by five toes,' repeated Omobono. 'I cannot forget that. I thank you, Kyría Karaboghazji, and I wish you a good day.' The negress nodded and showed her teeth but said nothing more, drew back and shut the door without waiting any longer. Omobono stood still a moment, listened to the slapping of the heavy slippers on the wet flags within, and then went away down the almost deserted lane, wondering much at the taste of the Bokharian merchant in marrying an African giantess. But soon his natural curiosity began to occupy itself more actively with the hidden meaning of the password given him by Rustan's wife; and, meditating on this problem, he made his way through the heart of the city, traversing many narrow and tortuous streets, till he suddenly emerged into a broad highway where marble buildings gleamed in the late afternoon sunshine, and richly dressed Greeks lounged in the wide exedræ and stately porticoes, discussing the affairs of the Empire in general and their neighbours' most particularly. Omobono trudged along, past the corner of the wide Forum of Theodosius, once the centre of the city's teeming life, but now given over to the tanners and leather-dressers, for one end of it was used as a slaughterhouse and the hides had not to be dragged far to be cured; he walked on quickly, keeping to the left, and was soon in narrow streets again, where afterwards the Grand Bazaar was built, and where even in those days the Persian merchants and the jewellers, the dealers in fine carpets and Eastern merchandise, the perfumers, the Egyptian goldsmiths and the Bokharian money-changers had their homes and the headquarters of their business. Here Omobono exchanged greetings now and then with men of all nationalities except Genoese, and very few of these last were to be seen, for they kept to their own quarter beyond the Golden Horn, in Pera. But Omobono would not stop to talk, and the streets were clean here, and well kept, and the children were not to be seen, so that he could walk quickly, without picking his way. On still, and farther on; through the almost classic Forum of Constantine, past the hill on which the bronze-bound porphyry column still stands, and down on the other side, keeping the Hippodrome on his left and diving into the Bokharian quarter, as different from the last through which he had come, as that had been from those he had passed before. For then, as now, Constantinople was a patchwork of divers nations and languages and customs, and their quarters were like distinct towns,--some filthy, noisy and unhealthy, some rich and stately, some quiet and poor, some asleep all day and riotous all night, others silent as sleep itself from nightfall till dawn, and noisy all day with the hum of business or the ceaseless hammering clang and clatter of workmen's tools. Before Omobono emerged upon the little square which then surrounded the churches of Saints Sergius and Bacchus and of Saints Peter and Paul--the latter is now destroyed--he heartily wished that he had hired a horse and man at one of the street corners; but he forgot his weariness when his destination was reached, and he saw a little bandy-legged sacristan in an absurdly short cassock of shabby black and purple cloth, leaning against one of the columns of the portico. Omobono ascended the broad steps that led up from the level of the street, as though he were going in, but just as he was close to the sacristan he stopped, as if without any premeditation, and made a gesture of salutation, smiling in a friendly way. 'Praised be our Lord,' he said, in the Greek manner. 'Our Lord be praised. Amen,' answered the sacristan indifferently, for it was the custom to do so. 'Could you inform me,' proceeded the Venetian clerk, 'whether that good man Kyrios Rustan Karaboghazji is now in the church at his devotions?' The sacristan had a perfectly round head with a pair of very small round eyes; moreover, his snub nose was quite round at the end. He now pursed out his lips and made his mouth round, too, as if he were going to whistle. Intentionally or unintentionally, he made himself look like an idiot, and slowly wagged his bullet head as if he did not understand. 'The church is open,' he said, at last. 'You may see,' Omobono now applauded himself for having asked and obtained a password, but he meant to be cautious in using it. 'Thank you,' he said politely, and he went on, into the church. The sun was low and cast a rich light through the open door, full upon the grating and closed gate of the sanctuary, and the gilt and burnished bars reflected and diffused the warm rays, like a glory before the unseen high altar. Omobono glanced quickly to the right and left as he passed between the pillars, but he saw no one. Farther on, before him and under the wide dome, two women in brown were at their prayers, the one kneeling, the other prostrate, in Eastern fashion, her forehead resting on the marble pavement. There was no man in sight. Omobono chose a clean spot, hitched up his cloak in front and knelt upon one knee. He crossed himself and said a little prayer. 'O Lord,' he prayed, 'grant wealth and honour to the Most Serene Republic and give Venice the victory over the Genoese. Bless Messer Carlo Zeno, O Lord, and preserve him from sudden death. Send bread to the poor. Give Omobono strength to resist curiosity. For ever and ever. Amen.' It was not a very eloquent little prayer and it lacked the set forms of invocation and doxology which devout persons use; but Omobono had made it up for himself long ago, and said it every day at least once, for it precisely expressed what he sincerely wished and intended to ask with due humility; and he was a good man, in spite of his besetting fault, and believed that what he asked would be granted. As yet, Venice had not triumphed over those unspeakable dogs of Genoese, though the day of glory was much nearer than even the Venetians dared to hope. But so far Carlo Zeno had been preserved from sudden death in spite of his manifest tendency to break his neck for any whim; for the rest, Omobono had more than once been the means of saving poor people from starvation, though at some risk of it to himself, poor man; and as for his curiosity, he had at least kept it so far in bounds as never to read his master's letters until his master had opened them himself, which was something for Omobono to be grateful for. On the whole, he judged that his small prayer was not unacceptable, and he used it every day. He knelt a moment after he had finished it, partly because he was a little ashamed of its being very short though he never could think of anything to add to it, and he did not wish people to think that he was irreverent and gabbled over a prayer merely as a form; for he was very sensitive about such things, being a shy man. And partly he remained on his knees a little longer because the gilded grating was very handsome in the light of the setting sun, and reminded him of the grating in Saint Mark's, and that naturally made him think of heaven. But presently he rose and went out. The sacristan was still standing by the same pillar. 'Kyrios Rustan is not in the church,' said Omobono, stopping again. Once more the sacristan seemed to be about to purse his lips into a circle, and to put on an air of blank stupidity, and the clerk saw that the time had come to use the password. 'I must see him,' he said, dropping his voice, but speaking very distinctly. 'I beg you to direct me by four toes and five toes, so that I may find him.' The sacristan's face and manner changed at once. His small eyes were suddenly full of intelligence, his mouth expanded in a friendly smile, and his snub nose seemed to draw itself to a point like the muzzle of a hound on a scent. 'Why did you not say that at once?' he asked. 'Rustan left the church a quarter of an hour before you came, but he is not far away. Do you see the entrance to the lane down there?' He pointed towards the place. 'Yes,' said Omobono, 'by the corner.' 'Yes. Go into that lane. Take the first turn to the left, and then the second to the right again. Before you have gone far you will find Rustan walking up and down.' 'Walking up and down?' repeated Omobono, surprised that the Bokharian should select for his afternoon stroll such a place as one might expect to find in the direction indicated. 'Yes.' The sacristan grinned and winked at the Venetian clerk in a knowing way. 'He is a devout man. When he has said his prayers he walks up and down in that little lane.' The man laughed audibly, but immediately looked behind him to see whether any one coming from within the church had heard him, for he considered himself a clerical character. Omobono thanked him politely. 'It is nothing,' answered the sacristan. 'A mere direction--what is it? If I had asked you for your purse and cloak by four toes and five toes, I am quite sure that you would have given me both.' 'Of course,' replied Omobono nervously, seeing that the reply was evidently expected of him. 'Of course I would. And so, good-day, my friend.' 'And good-day to you, friend,' returned the sacristan. The clerk went away, devoutly hoping that no unknown person would suddenly accost him and demand of him his cloak in the name of four toes and five toes, and he wondered what in the world he should do if such a thing happened to him. He was quite sure that he should be unable to hide the fact that he knew the magic formula, for he had never been very good at deception; and if the words could procure such instant obedience from such a disagreeable person as the sacristan had at first seemed to be, some dreadful penalty was probably the portion of those who disobeyed the mandate. Thus reflecting, and by no means easy in his mind, the clerk crossed the square and entered the lane. He had supposed that it led to a continuation of the Bokharian quarter, but he at once saw his mistake. Even now a man may live for years in Constantinople and yet be far from knowing every corner of it, and Omobono found himself in a part of the city which he had never seen. It was in ruins, and yet it was inhabited. Few of the houses had doors, hardly any window had a shutter, and as he passed, he saw that in many lower rooms the light fell from above, through a fallen floor and a broken roof above it. Yet in every ruined dwelling, and almost at every door, there was some one, and all were frightful to see; all were in rags that hardly clung together, and some could scarcely cover themselves modestly; one was blind, another had no arms or no legs, another was devoured by hideous disease--many were mere bundles of bones in scanty rags, and stretched out filthy skeleton hands for alms as the decently dressed clerk came near. Omobono stood still for a moment when he realised that he was in the beggars' quarter, where more than half the dying paupers of the great city took refuge amidst houses ruined and burnt long ago when the Crusaders had sacked Constantinople, and never more than half repaired since then. The clerk stood still, for the sight of so much misery hurt him, and it hurt him still more to think that he had but very few small coins in his wallet. The poor creatures should have them all, one by one, but there would be few indeed for so many. [Illustration: He was talking with an old beggar woman.] And then, as he took out a little piece of bronze money, he heard sounds like nothing he had heard before; like many hundred sighs of suffering all breathed out together; and again, like many dying persons praying in low, exhausted voices; and again, like a gentle, hopeless wail; and through it all there was a pitiful tremor of weakness and pain that went to the clerk's heart. He could do very little, and he was obliged to go on, for his errand was pressing, and the people were as wretched at one door as they would be at the next, so that it was better not to give all his coins at once. He dropped one here, one there, into the wasted hands, and went on quickly, scarcely daring to glance at the faces that appeared at the low doors and ruined windows. Yet here and there he looked in, almost against his will, and he saw sights that sent a cold chill down his back, sights I have seen, too, but need not tell of. And so he went on, turning as the sacristan had instructed him, till he saw a tall, thin man in a brown cloth gown edged with cheap fox's fur, and having a tight fur cap on his head. He was talking with an old beggar woman, and his back was turned so that Omobono could only see that he had a long black beard, but he recognised Rustan, the Bokharian dealer. The house before which the two were standing seemed a trifle better than the rest in the street; there were crazy shutters to the large lower windows, which were open, however; there was a door which was ajar, and an attempt had been made to scrape the mud from the threshold. For the street was damp and muddy after the spring rains, but not otherwise very dirty. There was no garbage, not so much as a cabbage-stalk or a bleaching bone; for bones can be ground to dust between stones and eaten with water, and a cabbage-stalk is half a dinner to a starving man. In spite of the prayer he had recently offered up against his besetting fault of curiosity, Omobono could not help treading very lightly as he came up behind the Bokharian, and as the mud was in a pasty state, neither hard nor slimy, his heavy boots made hardly any more noise in treading on it than a beggar's bare feet. In this way he advanced till he could see through an open window of the house, and he stood still and looked in, but he made as if he were politely waiting for Rustan to turn round. Either the old beggar woman was blind, or she thought fit not to call the Bokharian's attention to the fact that a well-dressed stranger was standing within a few feet of him. The two talked volubly in low tones and in the Bokharian language, which Omobono did not understand at all, and when he was quite sure that he could not follow the conversation he occupied his curiosity in watching what was going on inside the house. The window was low, having apparently once served as a shop in which the shopkeeper had sat, in Eastern fashion, half inside and half out, to wait upon his customers. During half a minute, which elapsed before Rustan turned round, the clerk saw a good deal. In the first place his eyes fell on the upturned face of a woman who was certainly in the extremity of dangerous illness, and was probably dying. She had been beautiful once and she had beauty still, that was not only the soft shadow of coming death. The wasted body was covered with nameless rags, but the pillow was white and clean; the refined face was the colour of pure wax, and the dark hair, grey at the temples, had been carefully combed out and smoothed back from the forehead. The woman's eyes were closed, and deeply shadowed by suffering, but her delicate nostrils quivered now and then as she drew breath, and her pale lips moved a little as though trying to speak. There were young children round the wretched bed, silent, thin, and wondering, as children are when the great mystery is very near them and they feel it. In their miserable tatters one could hardly have told whether the younger ones were boys or girls, but one was much older than the rest, and Omobono's eyes fixed themselves upon her, and he held his breath, lest the Bokharian should hear him and turn, and hide the vision and break the spell. The girl was standing on the other side of the sick woman, bending down a very little, and watching her features with a look of infinite care and sorrow. One exquisite white hand touched the poor coverings of the bed, rather than rested on them, as if it longed to be of some use, and to relieve the woman's suffering ever so little. But the clerk did not look at the delicate fingers, for his eyes were riveted on the young girl's face. It was thin and white, but its lines were beautiful beyond comparison with all that he had ever seen, even in Venice, the city of beautiful women. I think that true beauty is beyond description; you may describe the changeless, faultless outlines of a statue to a man who has seen good statues and can recall them; you can perhaps find words to describe the glow, and warmth, and deep texture of a famous picture, and what you write will mean something to those who know the master's work; you may even conjure up an image before untutored eyes. But neither minute description nor well-turned phrase, neither sensuous adjective nor spiritual simile can tell half the truth of a beautiful living thing. And the fairest living woman is twice beautiful when gladness or love or anger or sorrow rises in her eyes, for then her soul is in her face. As Omobono looked through the window and watched the beggar girl leaning over her dying mother, he hardly saw the perfect line of the cheek, the dark and sweeping lashes or the deep brown eyes--the firm and rounded chin, the very tender mouth, the high-bred nostrils or the rich brown hair. He could not clearly recall any of those things a few minutes later; he only knew that he had seen for once something he had heard of all his life. It was not till he dreamt of her face that night--dreaming, poor man, that she was his guardian angel come to reprove him for his curiosity--that the details all came back, and most of all that brave and tender little mouth of hers, so delicately womanly and yet so strong, and that unspeakable turn of the cheek between the eye and the ear, and that poise of the small head on the slender neck--the details came back then. But in the first moment he only saw the whole and felt that it was perfect; then, for an instant, the eyes looked at him across the dying woman; and in a moment more the Bokharian turned, caught sight of him and came quickly forward, and the spell was broken. Rustan Karaboghazji held out both hands to Omobono, as if he were greeting his dearest friend, and he spoke in fluent Italian. He was a young man still, not much past thirty, with dark, straight features, stony grey eyes, and a magnificent black beard. 'What happy chance brings you here?' he cried, immediately drawing the Venetian in the direction whence the latter had come. 'Fortunate indeed is Friday, the day of Venus, since it brings me into the path of my honoured Ser Omobono!' 'Indeed, it is no accident, Kyrios Rustan----' began Omobono. 'A double fortune, then, since a friend needs me,' continued the Bokharian, without the slightest hesitation. 'But do not call me Kyrios, Ser Omobono! First, I am not Greek, and then, my honoured friend, I am no Kyrios, but only a poor exile from my country, struggling to keep body and soul together among strangers.' While he talked he had drawn Omobono's arm through his own and was leading him away from the house with considerable haste. The Venetian looked back, and saw that the old woman had disappeared. 'I have a message from my master,' he said, 'but before we go on, I should like to----' he hesitated, and stopped in spite of Rustan. 'What should you like to do?' asked the latter, with sudden sharpness. Omobono's hand felt for the last of the small coins in his wallet. 'I wish to give a trifle to the poor people in that house,' he said, summoning his courage. 'I saw a sick woman--she seemed to be dying----' But Rustan grasped his wrist and held it firmly, as if to make him put the money back, but he smiled gently at the same time. 'No, no, my friend,' he answered. 'I would not have spoken of it, but you force me to tell you that I have been before you there! I take some interest in those poor people, and I have just given enough to keep them for a week, when I shall come again. It is not wise to give too much. The other beggars would rob them if they guessed that there was anything to take. Come, come! The sun is setting, and it is not well to be in this quarter so late.' Omobono remembered how the sacristan had winked and laughed, when he had spoken of Rustan's walks in the dismal lane, and the Venetian now proceeded to draw from what he had seen and heard a multitude of very logical inferences. That Rustan was an utter scoundrel he had never doubted since he had known him, and that his domestic life was perhaps not to his taste, Omobono guessed since he had seen the red-haired negress who was his wife. Nothing could be more natural than that the Bokharian, having discovered the beautiful, half-starved creature whom Omobono had first seen through the window, should plot to get her into his power for his own ends. Having reached this conclusion, the mild little clerk suddenly felt the blood of a hero beating in his veins and longed to take Karaboghazji by the throat and shake him till he was senseless, never doubting but that the cause of justice would miraculously give him the strength needed for the enterprise. He submitted to be hurried away, indeed, because the moment was evidently not propitious for a feat of knight-errantry; but as he walked he struck his cornel stick viciously into the pasty mud and shut his mouth tight under his well-trimmed grey beard. 'And now,' said Rustan, drawing something like a breath of relief as they emerged into the open space before the church, 'pray tell me what urgent business brings you so far to find me, and tell me, too, how you came to know where I was.' Here Omobono suddenly realised that in his deductions he had made some great mistake; for if Rustan had been in the beggars' quarter for such a purpose as the Venetian suspected, how was it possible that he should have left any sort of directions with his wife and the sacristan for finding him, in case he should be wanted on some urgent business? Omobono, always charitable, at once concluded that he had been led away into judging the man unjustly. 'Messer Carlo Zeno, the Venetian merchant, is very anxious to see you this very evening,' he said. 'From his manner, I suspect that the business will not bear any delay and that it may be profitable to you.' Rustan smiled, bent his head and walked quickly, but said nothing for several moments. 'Does Messer Zeno need money?' he asked presently. 'If so, let us stop at my house and I will see what little sum I can dispose of.' Mild as Omobono was, an angry, contemptuous answer rose to his lips, but he checked it in time. 'My master never borrows,' he answered, with immense dignity. 'I can only tell you that so far as I know he wishes to see you in regard to some commission with which a friend in Venice has charged him.' Rustan smiled more pleasantly than ever, and walked still faster. 'We will go directly to Messer Zeno's house, then,' he said. 'This is a most fortunate day for buying and selling, and perhaps I have precisely what he wants. We shall see, we shall see!' Omobono's thin little legs had hard work to keep up with the Bokharian's untiring stride, and though Rustan made a remark now and then, the clerk could hardly answer him for lack of breath. The sun had set and it was almost dark when they reached Zeno's house, and the secretary knocked at the door of his master's private room. CHAPTER III When it was quite dark the old woman came back with something hidden under her tattered shawl, and Zoë drew the rotten shutters that barely hung by the hinges and fastened them inside with bits of rain-bleached cord that were knotted through holes in the wood. She also shut the door and put up a wooden bar across it. While she was doing this she could hear Anastasia, the crazy paralytic who lived farther down the lane, singing a sort of mad litany of hunger to herself in the dark. It was the thin nasal voice of a starving lunatic, rising sharply and then dying away in a tuneless wail:-- Holy Mother, send us a little food, for we are hungry! Kyrie eleeison! Eleeison! Blessed Michael Archangel, gives us meat, for we starve! Eleeison! O blessed Charalambos, for the love of Heaven, a kid roasted on the coals and good bread with it! Eleeison, eleeison! We are hungry! Holy Sergius and Bacchus, Martyrs, have mercy upon us and send us a savoury meal of pottage! Eleeison! Pottage with oil and pepper! Eleeison, eleeison! Holy Peter and Paul and Zacharius, send your angels with fish, and with meat, and with sweet cooked herbs! Eleeison, let us eat and be filled, and sleep! Eleeison! Spread us your heavenly tables, and let us drink of the good water from the heavenly spring! Oh, we are hungry! We are starving! Eleeison! Eleeison! Eleeison! The miserable, crazy voice rose to a piercing scream, that made Zoë shudder; and then there came a little low, faint wailing, as the mad woman collapsed in her chair, dreaming perhaps that her prayer was about to be answered. Zoë had shut the door, and there was now a little light in the ruined room; for Nectaria, the old beggar woman, had been crouching in a corner over an earthen pan in which a few live coals were buried under ashes, and she had blown upon them till they glowed and had kindled a splinter of dry wood to a flame, and with this she had lit the small wick of an earthen lamp which held mingled oil and sheep's fat. But she placed the light on the stone floor so shaded that not a single ray could fall towards the door or the cracked shutters, lest some late returning beggar should see a glimmer from outside and guess that there was something to get by breaking in and stealing; for they were only three women, one dying, one very old, and the third Zoë herself, and two young children, and some of the beggars were strong men who had only lost one eye, or perhaps one hand, which had been chopped off for stealing. When the light was burning Zoë could see that the sick woman was awake, and she poured out some milk from a small jug which Nectaria had brought, and warmed it over the coals in a cracked cup, and held it to the tired lips, propping up the pillow with her other hand. And the sick one drank, and tried to smile. Meanwhile Nectaria spread out the rest of the supplies she had brought on a clean board; there was a small black loaf and three little fishes fried in oil, such as could be bought where food is cooked at the corners of the streets for the very poor. The two children gazed at this delicious meal with hungry eyes. They were boys, not more than seven and eight years old, and their rags were tied to them, to cover them, with all sorts of bits of string and strips of torn linen. But they were quite quiet, and did not try to take their share till Zoë came to the board and broke the black loaf into four equal portions with her white fingers. There was a piece for each of the boys, and a piece for Nectaria, and the girl kept a piece for herself; but she would not take a fish, as there were only three. 'This is all I could buy for the money,' said Nectaria. 'The milk is very dear now.' 'Why do you give it to me?' asked the sick woman, in a sweet and faint voice. 'You are only feeding the dead, and the living need the food.' 'Mother!' cried Zoë reproachfully, 'if you love us, do not talk of leaving us! The Bokharian has promised to bring a physician to see you, and to give us money for what you need. He will come in the morning, early in the morning, and you shall be cured, and live! Is it not as I say, Nectaria?' The old woman nodded her head in answer as she munched her black bread, but would say nothing, and would not look up. There was silence for a while. 'And what have you promised the Bokharian?' asked the mother at last, fixing her sad eyes on Zoë's face. 'Did ever one of his people give one of us anything without return?' 'I have promised nothing,' Zoë answered, meeting her mother's gaze quietly. Yet there was a shade of effort in her tone. 'Nothing yet,' said the sick woman. 'I understand. But it will come--it will come too soon!' She turned away her face on the pillow and the last words were hardly audible. The little boys did not hear them, and would not have understood; but old Nectaria heard and made signs to Zoë. The signs meant that by and by, when the sick woman should be dozing, Nectaria had something to tell; and Zoë nodded. There was silence again till all had finished eating and had drunk in turn from the earthen jar of water. Then they sat still and silent for a little while, and though the windows and the door were shut they could hear the mad woman singing again:-- Eleeison! Spread heavenly tables! Eleeison! We are starving! Eleeison! Eleeison! Eleeison! The sick woman breathed softly and regularly. The little boys grew sleepy and nodded, and huddled against each other as they sat. Then old Nectaria took the light and led them, half asleep, to a sort of bunk of boards and dry straw, in a small inner room, and put them to bed, covering them as well as she could; and they were soon asleep. She came back, shading the light carefully with her hand; and presently, when the sick woman seemed to be sleeping also, Nectaria and Zoë crept softly to the other end of the room and talked in whispers. 'She is better to-night,' said the girl. Nectaria shook her head doubtfully. 'How can any one get well here, without medicine, without food, without fire?' she asked. 'Yes--she is better--a little. It will only take her longer to die.' 'She shall not die,' said Zoë. 'The Bokharian has promised money and help.' 'For nothing? he will give nothing,' Nectaria answered sadly. 'He talked long with me this afternoon, out in the street. I implored him to give us a little help now, till the danger is passed, because if you leave her she will die.' 'Did you try to make him believe that if he would help us now you would betray me to him in a few days?' 'Yes, but he laughed at me--softly and wisely as Bokharians laugh. He asked me if one should feed wolves with flesh before baiting the pit-fall that is to catch them. He says plainly that until you can make up your mind, we shall have only the three pennies he gives us every day, and if your mother dies, so much the worse; and if the children die, so much the worse; and if I die, so much the worse; for he says you are the strongest of us and will outlive us all.' 'It is true!' Zoë clasped her hands against the wall and pressed her forehead against them, closing her eyes. 'It is true,' she repeated, in the same whisper, 'I am so strong!' Old Nectaria stood beside her and laid one wrinkled cheek to the cold wall, so that her face was near Zoë's, and they could still talk. 'If I refuse,' said the girl, quivering a little in her distress, 'I shall see you all die before my eyes, one by one!' 'Yet, if you leave your mother now----' the old woman began. 'She has lived through much more than losing me,' answered Zoë. 'My father's long imprisonment, his awful death!' she shuddered now, from head to foot. Nectaria laid a withered hand sympathetically on her trembling shoulder, but Zoë mastered herself after a moment's silence and turned her face to her companion. 'You must make her think that I shall come back,' she whispered. 'There is no other way--unless I give my soul, too. That would kill her indeed--she could not live through that!' 'And to think that my old bones are worth nothing!' sighed the poor old woman; she took the rags of Zoë's tattered sleeve and pressed them to her lips. But Zoë bent down, for she was the taller by a head, and she tenderly kissed the wrinkled face. 'Hush!' she whispered softly. 'You will wake her if you cry. I must do it, Ria, to save you all from death, since I can. If I wait longer, I shall grow thinner, and though I am so strong I may fall ill. Then I shall be worth nothing to the Bokharian.' 'But it is slavery, child! Do you not understand that it is slavery? That he will take you and sell you in the market, as he would sell an Arab mare, to the highest bidder?' [Illustration: She tenderly kissed the wrinkled face.] Zoë leaned sideways against the wall, and the faint light that shone upwards from the earthen lamp on the floor, fell upon her lovely upturned face, and on the outlines of her graceful body, ill-concealed by her thin rags. 'Is it true that I am still beautiful?' she asked after a pause. 'Yes,' answered the old woman, looking at her, 'it is true. You were not a pretty child, you were sallow, and your nose----' Zoë interrupted her. 'Do you think that many girls as beautiful as I are offered in the slave market?' 'Not in my time,' answered the old woman. 'When I was in the market I never saw one that could compare with you.' She had been sold herself, when she was thirteen. 'Of course,' she added, 'the handsome ones were kept apart from us and were better fed before they were sold, but we waited on them--we whom no one would buy except to make us work--and so we saw them every day.' 'He says he will give a hundred Venetian ducats for me, does he not?' 'Yes; and you are worth three hundred anywhere,' answered the old slave, and the tears came to her eyes, though she tried to squeeze them back with her crooked fingers. The sick woman called to the two in a weak voice. Zoë was at her side instantly, and Nectaria shuffled as fast as she could to the pan of coals and crouched down to blow upon the embers in order to warm some milk. 'I am cold,' complained the sufferer, 'so cold!' Zoë found one of her hands and began to chafe it gently between her own. 'It is like ice,' she said. The girl was ill-clothed enough, as it was, and the early spring night was chilly; but she slipped off her ragged outer garment, the long-skirted coat of the Greeks, and spread it over the other wretched coverings of the bed, tucking it in round her mother's neck. 'But you, child?' protested the sick woman feebly. 'I am too hot, mother,' answered Zoë, whose teeth were chattering. Nectaria brought the warm milk, and Zoë lifted the pillow as she had done before, and held the cup to the eager lips till the liquid was all gone. 'It is of no use,' sighed her mother. 'I shall die. I shall not live till morning.' She had been a very great lady of Constantinople, the Kyría Agatha, wife of the Protosparthos Michael Rhangabé, whom the Emperor Andronicus had put to death with frightful tortures more than a year ago, because he had been faithful to the Emperor Johannes. Until her husband had been imprisoned, she had spent her life in a marble palace by the Golden Horn, or in a beautiful villa on the Bosphorus. She had lived delicately and had loved her existence, and even after all her husband's goods had been confiscated as well as all her own, she had lived in plenty for many months with her children, borrowing here and there of her friends and relatives. But they had forsaken her at last; not but that some of them were generous and would have supported her for years, if it had been only a matter of money, but it had become a question of life and death after Rhangabé had been executed, and none of them would risk being blinded, or maimed, or perhaps strangled for the sake of helping her. Then she had fallen into abject poverty; her slaves had all been taken from her with the rest of the property and sold again in the market, but old Nectaria had hidden herself and so had escaped; and she, who knew the city, had brought Kyría Agatha and her three children to the beggars' quarter as a last refuge, when no one would take them in. The old slave had toiled for them, and begged for them, and would have stolen for them if she had not been profoundly convinced that stealing was not only a crime punishable at the very least by the loss of the right hand, but that it was also a much greater sin because it proved that the thief did not believe in the goodness of Providence. For Providence, said Nectaria, was always right, and so long as men did right, men and Providence must necessarily agree; in other words, all would end well, either on earth or in heaven. But to steal, or kill by treachery, or otherwise to injure one's neighbour for one's own advantage, was to interfere with the ways of Providence, and people who did such things would in the end find themselves in a place diametrically opposite to that heaven in which Providence resided. Of its kind, Nectaria's reasoning was sound, and whether truly philosophical or not, it was undeniably moral. Zoë was not Kyría Agatha's own daughter. No children had been born to the Protosparthos and his wife for several years after their marriage, and at last, in despair, they had adopted a little baby girl, the child of a young Venetian couple who had both died of the cholera that periodically visited Constantinople. Kyría Agatha and Rhangabé brought her up as their own daughter, and again years passed by; then, at last, two boys were born to them within eighteen months. Michael Rhangabé's affection for the adopted girl never suffered the slightest change. Kyría Agatha loved her own children better, as any mother would, and as any children would have a right to expect when they were old enough to reason. She had not been unkind to Zoë, still less had she conceived a dislike for her; but she had grown indifferent to her and had looked forward with pleasure to the time when the girl should marry and leave the house. Then the great catastrophe had come, and loss of fortune, and at last beggary and actual starvation; and though Zoë's devotion had grown deeper and more unselfish with every trial, the elder woman's anxiety now, in her last dire extremity, was for her boys first, then for herself, and for Zoë last of all. The girl knew the truth about her birth, for Rhangabé himself had not thought it right that she should be deceived, but she had not the least recollection of her own parents; the Protosparthos and his wife had been her real father and mother and had been kind, and it was her nature to be grateful and devoted. She saw that the Kyría loved the boys best, but she was already too womanly not to feel that human nature must have its way where the ties of flesh and blood are concerned; and besides, if her adoptive mother had been cruel and cold, instead of only indifferent where she had once been loving, the girl would still have given her life for her, for dead Rhangabé's sake. While he had lived, she had almost worshipped him; in his last agonies he had sent a message to his wife and children, and to her, which by some happy miracle had been delivered; and now that he was dead she was ready to die for those who had been his; more than that, she was willing to be sold into slavery for them. She stood by the bedside only half covered, and she tried to think of something more that she might do, while she gazed on the pale face that was turned up to hers. 'Are you warmer, now?' she asked tenderly. 'Yes--a little. Thank you, child.' Kyría Agatha closed her eyes again, but Zoë still watched her. The conviction grew in the girl that the real danger was over, and that the delicately nurtured woman only needed care and warmth and food. That was all, but that was the unattainable, since there was nothing left that could be sold; nothing but Zoë's rare and lovely self. A hundred golden ducats were a fortune. In old Nectaria's hands such a sum would buy real comfort for more than a year, and in that time no one could tell what might happen. A turn of fortune might bring the Emperor John back to the throne. He had been a weak ruler, but neither cruel nor ungrateful, and surely he would provide for the widow of the Commander of his Guards who had perished in torment for being faithful to him. Then Zoë's freedom might be bought again, and she would go into a convent and live a good life to the end, in expiation of such evil as might be thrust upon her as a bought slave. This she could do, and this she must do, for there was no other way to save Agatha's life, and the lives of the little boys. 'A little more milk,' said the sick woman, opening her eyes again. Nectaria crouched over the embers, and warmed what was left of the milk. Zoë, watching her movements, saw that it was the last; but Kyría Agatha was surely better, and would ask for more during the night, and there would be none to give her; none, perhaps, until nearly noon to-morrow. Nectaria took the pan of coals away to replenish it, going out to the back of the ruined house in order to light the charcoal in the open air. The sick woman closed her eyes again, being momentarily satisfied and warm. Zoë sank upon her knees beside the bed, forgetting that she was cold and half-starved, as the tide of her thoughts rose in a wave of despair. The fitful night breeze wafted the words of the mad woman's crooning along the lane, 'Eleeison! Eleeison!' And Zoë unconsciously answered, as she would have answered in church, 'Kyrie eleeison!' 'Blessed Michael, Archangel, give us meat, we starve!' came the wild song, now high and distinct. 'Kyrie eleeison!' answered Zoë on her knees. Then she sprang to her feet like a startled animal. Some one had knocked at the door. With one hand she gathered her thin rags across her bosom, the other unconsciously went to the sick woman's shoulder, as if at once to reassure her and to bid her be silent. Again the knocking came, discreet still, but a little louder than before. Nectaria was still away and busy with the pan of coals, and the sick woman heard nothing, for she was sound asleep at last. Zoë saw this, and drew her bare feet out of her patched slippers before she ran lightly to the door. 'Who knocks?' she asked in a very low tone, clasping her tattered garment to her body. The Bokharian's smooth voice answered her in oily accents. 'I am Rustan,' he said. 'I am suddenly obliged to go on a journey, and I start at dawn.' Zoë held her breath, for she felt that the last chance of saving her mother was slipping away. 'Do you hear me?' asked Rustan, outside. 'Yes.' 'Will you make up your mind? I will give half as much again as I promised.' The girl's face had been pale; it turned white now, for the great moment had come very suddenly. She made an effort to swallow, in order to speak distinctly, and she glanced towards the bed. Kyría Agatha was in a deep sleep. 'Have your brought the money with you?' Zoë asked, almost panting. 'Yes.' The hand that grasped the rags to keep them together pressed desperately against her heart. While Rustan could have counted ten, there was silence. Twice again she looked towards the bed and then, with infinite precaution, she slipped out the wooden bar that kept the door closed. Once more she drew her rags over her, for they had fallen back when she used both her hands. She opened the door a little, and saw Rustan muffled in a cloak, his eager face and black beard thrust forward in anticipation of entering. But she stopped him, and held out one hand. 'My mother has fallen into a deep sleep,' she said. 'Give me the money and I will go with you.' Without hesitation Rustan placed in her outstretched hand a small bag made of coarse sail-cloth, and closely tied with hemp twine. 'How much is it?' she whispered. 'One hundred and fifty gold ducats,' answered the Bokharian under his breath, for he knew that if he did not wake the sleeping woman there would be less trouble. At that moment Nectaria came back from within, with the pan of coals. Zoë caught her eye and held out the heavy little bag. The woman stared, looked at Kyría Agatha's sleeping face, set down the pan upon the floor, and came forward. 'He has brought the money, a hundred and fifty ducats,' Zoë whispered, forcing the bag into Nectaria's trembling hands. 'It is the only way. Good-bye--quick--shut the door before she wakes--tell her I am asleep in the straw--God bless you----' 'Eleeison! Eleeison!' came the wail of the mad woman on the wind. Before Nectaria could answer Zoë had pulled the door till it shut behind her, and was outside, barefooted on the hardening mud, and scarcely covered. She said nothing now, and Rustan was silent too, but he had taken one of her wrists and held it firmly without hurting it. The fleet young creature might make a dash for freedom yet, foolish as that would be, since he could easily force his way into the ruined house and take back his money if she escaped him. But he had nearly lost a young slave once before, and he would risk nothing, so he kept his strong hand tightly clasped round the slender wrist, though Zoë walked beside him quietly in the deep gloom, thinking only of covering herself from his gaze, though indeed he could scarcely see the outline of her figure. They went on quickly. For the last time, as Rustan led her round a sharp turn, she heard the wild cry of the poor mad creature she had listened to so often by day and in the dead of night. Then she was in another street and could hear it no more. She was not allowed time to think of her condition yet. A few steps farther and Rustan stopped short, still holding her fast by the wrist, and she saw that they had come upon a group of men who were waiting for them. One suddenly held up a lantern which had been covered, and now shed a yellow light through thin leaves of horn, and Zoë saw that he was a big Ethiopian, as black as ebony. She drew her tatters still more closely over her with her free hand and turned away from the light, as well as Rustan's unrelaxing hold would allow. A moment later some one she could not see threw a wide warm cloak over her shoulders from behind her, and she caught it gladly and drew the folds to her breast. 'Get into the litter,' said Rustan, sharply but not loudly. There was nothing soft or oily in his tone now. He had bought her and she was a part of his property. Four men had lifted a covered palanquin and held it up with the small open door just in front of her. She turned, sat upon the edge, and bent her head to slip into the conveyance backwards, as Eastern women learn to do very easily. Rustan held her wrist till she was ready to draw in her feet, and as he let her go at last she disappeared within. He instantly closed the sliding panel and fastened it with a bronze pin. There were half-a-dozen round holes in each door to let in air, not quite big enough to allow the passage of an ordinary woman's hand. Zoë sank back in the close darkness and found herself leaning against yielding pillows covered with soft leather. The palanquin began to move steadily forwards, hardly swaying from side to side, and not rising or falling at all, as the porters walked on with a smooth, shuffling gait, each timing his step a fraction of a second later than that of the man next before him; lest, by all keeping step together, they should set their burden swinging, which is intolerable to the person carried. Four men carried the litter, a fifth, armed with an iron-shod staff, went before with the lantern, and Rustan followed after. There was nothing in the appearance of the party to excite surprise or curiosity in a city where every well-to-do person who went out in the evening was carried in a palanquin, and accompanied by at least two trusty servants. For that matter, too, Rustan's business was perfectly legitimate, and it concerned no one that he should have a newly bought beauty carried in a closed litter from a distant quarter of the city to his home. It was true that he had no receipt for his money, acknowledging that it was the stipulated price paid for a full-grown white maid between eighteen and nineteen years old, with brown eyes, brown hair, twenty-eight teeth, all sound, and a pale complexion; who weighed about two Attic talents and five minæ, and measured just six palms, standing on her bare feet. In strict law, he should have had such a document, signed by the father or mother or owner of the slave, but he knew that he was quite safe without it. Like all Bokharians, he was a profound judge of human nature, and he was quite sure that having once submitted to her fate Zoë would not cheat him by claiming the freedom she had sacrificed; moreover, he knew that the adopted daughter of Michael Rhangabé who had died on the stake in the Hippodrome as an enemy of the reigning Emperor, would have but a small chance of obtaining justice, even if she attempted to prove that she had been carried off by force. Rustan Karaboghazji felt that his position was unassailable as he followed the litter that carried his latest bargain through the winding streets of Constantinople towards the narrow lane, one side of which was formed by that mysterious wall which had but one door in it. He was well pleased with his day's business, for he was quite sure that he had netted a handsome profit. Under his cloak he held a string of beads in one hand, and as he walked he made the calculation of his probable gains, pushing the beads along the string with his thumb. He had paid one hundred and fifty gold ducats for Zoë; but fifty of them were at least a quarter of their value under weight, so that the actual value of the gold was one hundred and thirty-seven and a half ducats. He was quite sure that Zeno would approve the purchase on a careful inspection, and that he would be willing to give three hundred and fifty sequins, though the girl was a little over age, as slaves' ages were counted. She should have been between sixteen and seventeen, yet she was exceptionally pretty, and spoke three languages--Greek, Latin, and Italian. If Zeno paid the price, the clear profit would be two hundred and twelve and a half ducats. The beads worked quickly in Rustan's fingers, and his hard grey eyes gleamed in the dark. Two hundred and twelve and a half on one hundred and thirty-seven and a half, by the new Venetian method of so much in the hundred, which was a very convenient way of reckoning profits, meant one hundred and fifty-four and a half per centum. The beads worked furiously, as the merchant's imagination carried him off into a mercantile paradise where he could make a hundred and fifty per cent on his capital every day of the year except Sundays and high feast days. This calculation was complicated, even for a Bokharian brain, but it was a delightful one to follow out, and Rustan's blood coursed pleasantly through his veins as he walked behind his purchase. He had lost no time after he had left the beggars' quarter late in the afternoon, by no means sure that Zoë meant to surrender at all, and very doubtful as to her doing so within the next three days. Yet he had boldly promised that Carlo Zeno should see her on approval on the following morning. After all, he risked nothing but a first failure, for if he did not succeed in buying Zoë in time he could nevertheless show the Venetian merchant some very pretty wares. Zeno was not a man to waste words with such a creature as a slave-dealer, and the interview had not lasted ten minutes. It had taken longer than that to weigh the ducats in order to be sure that a certain number of them were under weight. The only thing Rustan now wished was that he had put many more light ones into the bag, since it had not even been opened; for he had naturally expected to be obliged to count them out before old Nectaria, who had a born slave's intelligence about money. Inside the litter the girl lay on her cushions in the dark, wondering with a sort of horror at what she had done. She had thought of it indeed, through many days and sleepless nights, and she did not regret it; she would not have gone back, now that she had left plenty and comfort where there had been nothing but ruin and hunger; but she thought of what was before her and prayed that she might close her eyes and die before the morning came, or better still, before the litter stopped and Rustan drew back the sliding door. In an age and a land of slavery, the slave's fate was familiar to her. She knew that there were public markets and private markets, and that her beauty, which meant her value, would save her from the former; but to the daughter of freeborn parents the difference between the one and the other was not so great as to be a consolation. She would be well lodged, well covered, and well fed, it was true, and she need not fear cruel treatment; but customers would come, perhaps to-morrow, and she was to be shown to them like a valuable horse; they would judge her points and discuss her and the sum that Rustan would ask; and if they thought the price too high they would go away and others would come, and others, till a bargain was struck at last. After that, she could only think of death as the end. She knew that many handsome girls were secretly sold to Sultan Amurad and the Turkish chiefs over in Asia Minor or in Adrianople, and it was more than likely that she herself would fare no better, for the conquerors were lavish with their gold, whereas the Greeks were either half-ruined nobles or sordid merchants who counted every penny. The men carried the litter smoothly and steadily, never slackening and never hastening their pace. The time seemed endless. Now and then she heard voices and many steps, with the clatter of horses' hoofs, which told her that she was in one of the more frequented streets, but most of the time she heard scarcely anything but the shuffling walk of the men in their heavy sandals and the firmer tread of Rustan's well-shod feet where the road was hard. She guessed that he was avoiding the great thoroughfares, probably because the people who thronged them even at that hour would have hindered the progress of the palanquin. Zoë knew as well as the dealer that there was nothing as yet in the transaction which need be hidden; possibly, if she were afterwards sold to the Turks, she would be taken across the Bosphorus secretly, for though there was no law against selling Christian girls to unbelievers the people of the city looked upon the traffic with something like horror, and an angry crowd might rescue the merchandise from the dealer's hands. Zoë did not expect that rare good fortune, for Rustan was not a man to run any risks in his business. As she lay among her cushions, dreading the end of the journey, but gradually wearying of the future, her thoughts went back to the first cause of all her misfortunes, of Michael Rhangabé's awful death, of all the suffering that had followed them. One man alone had wrought that evil and much more, one man, the reigning Emperor Andronicus. Zoë was not revengeful, not cruel, very far from bloodthirsty; but when she thought of him she felt that she would kill him if she could, and that it would only be justice. Suddenly a ray of something like hope flashed through her darkness. Nectaria had told her how beautiful she was; perhaps, being so much more valuable than most of the slaves that went to the market, she might be destined for the Emperor himself. It was just possible. She set her teeth and clenched her little hands in the dark. If that should be her fate, the usurper's days were numbered. She would free her country from its tyrant and be revenged for Rhangabé's murder and for all the rest at one quick stroke, though she might be condemned to die within the hour. That was indeed something to hope for. The litter stopped and she heard keys thrust into locks, and felt that the porters turned short to the left to enter a door. Her journey through the city was at an end. CHAPTER IV Rustan stayed behind to shut the outer door, and Zoë felt that she was carried as much as twenty paces forward and upwards before the bearers stood still at last. Then the sliding panel opened, letting in light, and a strange voice told her to get out. She turned inside the palanquin and thrust out her naked feet. As she put them down, expecting to touch bare earth or a stone pavement, they rested on a rough carpet; at the same instant she sat on the edge of the litter bending her head to get out of it and looking round curiously. Rustan was not there, and in his place she saw a huge young negress with flaming red hair and rolling eyes, who roughly ordered the porters to take away the palanquin and at the same time caught Zoë's wrist, whether to help her to stand upright or to secure her person it was hard to say. The girl was much more fearless than Omobono, the Venetian secretary, and she was not frightened by the gigantic woman's appearance, as he had been. In getting out she had managed to gather the cloak round her, so that the men should not see her in her rags; for there was light in the large room where she found herself, and now that she could look about her she saw a dozen or more girls and young women standing in small groups a few paces behind the negress. They surveyed the new arrival curiously, but with different expressions. Some seemed to pity her, others smiled as if to welcome her; one good-looking girl had noticed that she had no shoes, and her lip curled contemptuously at such a proof of abject poverty, for she herself was the daughter of a prosperous Caucasian horse-thief who had brought her up in plenty and ease in order that she might fetch a high price. The bearers had now left the room and there were no men present. Zoë vaguely wished that they would come back, even the black bearers of the litter, for she felt a very womanly woman's distrust of her own sex, where so many who were strangers, and possibly not well-disposed to her, were gathered together to look at her. The negress surveyed her critically by the light of the large bronze lamp that stood on a stand beside her, and showed her sharp teeth in an approving smile that made her thick upper lip roll upwards on itself. She took the cloak from Zoë's shoulders and scrutinised her half-clad figure, till she blushed red. Then the daughter of the Caucasian horse-thief laughed rudely, and some of the others tittered while the negress gently pinched Zoë's bare arms and neck to judge of their firmness and of her general condition. Apparently the examination was tolerably satisfactory, for the woman nodded and grinned again. As yet not a word had been spoken since she had dismissed the bearers, but now she turned towards the other girls and called two of them. 'Lucilla and Yulia, you shall wait on her,' she said in Greek. 'The rest of you, to bed! It is already three hours of the night.' Two dark-skinned girls in coarse blue linen clothes came forward with alacrity, evidently much pleased at being chosen for the office. They were ordinary slave-girls of fourteen or fifteen years, who would be sold for house-work, and had no pretensions to good looks. Their tightly plaited black hair was compressed into the smallest possible space at the backs of their heads, and they wore small red caps, coarsely embroidered, but neat and fresh. Their faces were much alike though they were not sisters. Zoë saw instantly that they were children of slaves of nondescript breed with a small admixture of African blood, of the race that swarmed in Constantinople. 'Go to bed, I say!' cried the negress to the others, seeing that some of them were inclined to linger. 'Be off!' They saw her hand move towards the whip in her girdle and they ran for the door, crowding on each other like sheep at the gate when the dogs drive them into the fold. Having produced this desired result, the negress turned to Zoë again, and her manner suddenly became caressing and almost fawning. 'You are mistress here, Kokóna,' she said. 'These two girls shall wait on you while our humble roof is honoured by your presence. If you have the slightest cause of discontent with their service, only tell me, and they shall be taught their duty.' Again her hand went significantly to her girdle, and she rolled her terrible eyes. The two maids shrank visibly at a threat of which they had already felt the meaning. Zoë was not so dull as to misunderstand the negress's manner. The favourite slave of some high and mighty personage, of the Emperor himself, perhaps, would have power, if only for a time, and the wife of Karaboghazji lost no time in making a bid for such patronage. 'I am a slave, as these girls are,' Zoë answered, laying a kindly hand on the shoulder of the one nearest to her. Both maids gazed up into her face with a sort of wondering gratitude. 'I am here to be sold, just as you are,' Zoë added, returning their look. The negress laughed loudly, for she was evidently in a good humour. 'Also the noble peacock and the sparrow are both birds, though the feathers are different!' she cried. 'But the Kokóna is hungry and cold,' she continued, in a tone of servile anxiety for Zoë's comfort. 'Will she not perhaps take a bath and change her clothes before supper? Everything is ready.' 'I have supped,' answered Zoë, who had eaten a piece of black bread, 'but as for clothes, I should like to put on the cloak again, for I feel cold.' She had hardly spoken before the two maids had wrapped her in the warm mantle. 'Thank you,' she said to them, and she turned to the negress. 'You seem to be mistress here. May I go to bed now?' 'Yes, I am the mistress,' answered the African woman, all her teeth gleaming in the lamplight. 'I am Rustan Karaboghazji's wife, Kokóna.' Zoë could not repress a movement of surprise. The negress laughed. 'Rustan is a wise man,' she said with a tremendous grin. 'It is cheaper to marry one woman with a strong hand than to keep a couple of smooth-faced thieves for gaolers, as most of the people in our business do. If the Kokóna will please to follow me I will show her the room I have prepared.' Zoë bent her head and followed, for the negress was already leading the way. They entered a room of fair dimensions which had evidently been got ready with considerable care, for it contained everything that a woman accustomed to comfort could require. A good Persian carpet covered the floor; a narrow, but handsomely chiselled bronze bedstead was furnished with two mattresses, spotless linen, and a warm coverlet of silk and wool; on a marble table stood a little mirror of polished metal, before which lay two ivory combs and a number of ivory and silver hairpins and other little things needful for a woman's toilet; there stood also a gilt lamp with three beaks, which shed a pleasant light upon everything; a low curtained door at the end of the room gave access to the small bathroom, where another little lamp was burning. The negress drew the curtain back and showed the place to Zoë, who had certainly not expected to spend her first night of slavery in such luxurious quarters. Rustan's wife opened a large wardrobe, too, and showed her a plentiful supply of fine linen and clothes, neatly folded and lying on shelves. In the middle of the room a round table was prepared with three dishes, one containing some small cold birds, another a salad, and a third mixed sweetmeats, and there was also wine and water in small silver flagons, and one silver drinking-cup. It was long indeed since Zoë had seen anything like this, and her eyes smarted suddenly when she realised that the slave-dealer's prison reminded her faintly of her old home. For it was a prison after all; she guessed that beyond the shutters of the closed window there were stout iron bars, and as she had entered she had seen a big key in the lock on the outside of the door. 'It is late,' said the negress, when she had shown everything. 'The girls will sleep on the floor, for the carpet is good and there are two blankets for them, there in the corner. Good-night, Kokóna. By what name shall I call the Kokóna? The Kokóna will excuse her servant's ignorance!' Zoë hesitated a moment. She had not thought of changing her name, but now she felt all at once that as a slave she must cut off all connection with her former life. What if the personage who was to buy her should turn out to have known her mother, and even herself, and should recognise her by her name? A resemblance of face could be explained away, but her face and her name together would certainly betray her. It was not so much that she feared the open shame of being recognised as Michael Rhangabé's adopted daughter; she had grown used to the meaning of the word slavery during those last desperate days. But people would not fail to say that Kyría Agatha had sold her adopted daughter into slavery in order to save herself and her own children from misery. Zoë could prevent that, and she only hesitated long enough to choose the name by which she was to be known. 'Call me Arethusa,' she said. Her thoughts had flown back to the deed of justice she meant to do if she should ever be near the Emperor Andronicus; and if Areté had come later to mean virtue, it had meant courage first, manly, unflinching courage; and as Zoë was only a Greek girl and not a German professor, she naturally supposed that Areté was the very word from which Arethusa was derived. 'It is a fine name,' observed her gaoler obsequiously. 'And what shall I call you?' asked Zoë. 'I am Kyría Karaboghazji.' The negress tossed her flaming head and smiled with satisfied vanity. 'My husband calls me Zoë,' she added, with an amazing smirk, and some affectation of shyness. 'Zoë!' The high-born girl repeated her own name in genuine astonishment. [Illustration: 'Yes,' replied the negress. 'Rustan is very affectionate. He says that I am his Zoë, his "life," because he would surely die of starvation without me!'] 'Yes,' replied the negress. 'Rustan is very affectionate. He says that I am his Zoë, his "life," because he would surely die of starvation without me!' 'I see,' said the Greek girl. She would not have believed that before lying down in her prison that night she would be forced to make an effort to suppress a laugh. 'And now it is growing late,' said the negress again, 'and Rustan is wondering why I do not come to comb his beard and smooth his pillow, and prepare his drink for the night. Good-night, Kokóna Arethusa! May Holy Charalambos send you dreams of delight!' 'And to you also, Kyría Karaboghazji,' Zoë answered, though the form of the woman's salutation was new to her. The negress went out, still much pleased with herself, and swaying her massive hips as she walked. She shut the door, and Zoë heard the big key move in the lock. The two slave-girls had stood at a respectful distance throughout the conversation, their hands crossed submissively and their eyes bent on the floor, for Rustan's wife had already taught them manners in order to improve their price. But she was no sooner gone than they looked at each other, and their lips began to twitch nervously; in another moment they were both seized with a convulsion of silent laughter. They shook from head to foot, they held their sides, they bent and swayed, and twisted their hands together, but not a sound escaped their lips. Beyond this, they could not control their mirth, and while they laughed they looked anxiously at Zoë. She herself could not help smiling when she thought of the negress's enormous self-satisfaction, but presently she shook her head at the girls and laid her finger on her lips. Their amusement subsided quickly, for though she seemed kind, they knew what they had to expect if one word from her should expose them to the negress's displeasure. Zoë was very tired, now that the great sacrifice was made, and she let the slave-girls help her as much as they would. They even made her eat something and drink a little water. Now and then, when they looked up at her, she patted them on the shoulder and smiled faintly, but her thoughts were far away in the ruined house in the beggars' quarter. When the girls had helped her in the bath and had dried her feet that had been stained with mud and blue with the cold, they chafed them with their hands and kissed them. 'They are like two little white mice!' said Yulia, laughing softly. 'No, they are like young doves!' said Lucilla. And they each slipped one of her feet into a slipper of deerskin; and then they clothed her for the night, in fine dry linen and a small green silk jacket. They were skilful with their hands though they were still so young, and she let them do what they thought she needed, and lay down at last, to be covered and tucked in as warmly and comfortably as when Kyría Agatha used to put her to bed, before the boys had been born and had taken her place. In a few minutes the little maids had put out the lamp, leaving only the small light in the bath; then they noiselessly devoured all the sweetmeats left on the table, after which they curled themselves upon the carpet under their blankets and were asleep in a moment, like young animals. For a few moments Zoë still tried to think; tired though she was, she hated herself for being able to rest in such comfort while Kyría Agatha was perhaps awake under her pile of rags, and Nectaria was hugging the straw to keep a little warmth in her old body. But then she thought of the morrow, and of all that Nectaria would do with the gold for the sick woman and the little boys, and in this soothing reflexion she was borne softly away out of this world of slavery, through the ivory gates to the infinite gardens of dreamland. She was waked by the sunshine streaming into the room through the window, and as she opened her eyes she saw the iron bars, and remembered where she was. She sighed, for she had been happy in her sleep. The girls were sitting cross-legged on the carpet, side by side, at a little distance, silently awaiting her pleasure. She turned her head on the pillow and lay on one side, looking at their small dark faces; but she did not speak to them yet. They were very much alike, she thought, commonplace girls, differing so little from thousands of other young slaves in the great city, that it would be hard for her to recognise them, if she should not see them for a few days. They would be disposed of soon, of course, for there was always a demand for healthy young house slaves who had been properly taught. She envied them their homely features, their coarse black hair, their angular figures, their sallow cheeks, and their cunning little black eyes. They could only be sold as workers. All her life Zoë had heard the price of house-slaves discussed, even more freely than the price of clothes or jewels, and she knew that neither of the girls was worth more than five-and-twenty ducats. She wondered what Rustan meant to ask for herself; he would certainly not demand less than double the sum he had paid. While she was reflecting on these questions, and wishing all the time that she might have news of Kyría Agatha during the day, the big key moved in the Persian lock. The two girls sprang to their feet and stood in a respectful attitude, Zoë turned her eyes as she heard the sound, the door opened, and the negress's flaming head appeared in the sunlight. She saw that Zoë was awake, and she entered the room, shutting the door behind her. She greeted her valuable prisoner in the half-familiar, half-obsequious tone she had adopted from the first, asking her how she had slept, and whether the little maids had done their duty. The latter question was accompanied by a fierce look at the two girls. Zoë answered that they were most skilful and well behaved. The negress looked at the remains of the supper on the table. 'So the Kokóna Arethusa is fond of sweetmeats,' she observed. 'She eats only a mouthful from one bird and all the sugar-plums!' Zoë was on the point of uttering an exclamation of surprised denial, when she met the terrified eyes of the two slave-girls and checked herself with a smile. 'I am very fond of sweets,' she answered carelessly. The black woman seemed satisfied and turned from the table. She opened the wardrobe next, and selected what she considered the handsomest of the dresses that lay folded on the shelves within. Zoë watched her curiously. She unfolded garments of apple-green silk, and one of peach-coloured Persian velvet embroidered with silver, with a sash of plaited green silk and gold threads. The two girls took the things from her and laid them out. 'Surely,' Zoë said, 'you do not wish me to wear those clothes!' 'They are very good clothes,' observed the negress coaxingly. 'Look at this velvet coat! There are even seed-pearls in the embroidery, and it is quite new and fresh. My husband bought it from the Blachernæ palace, when Handsome John was imprisoned. It belonged to one of the favourite ladies. The slaves who ran away stole all the things and sold them.' 'I would rather wear something plainer,' said Zoë; but at the mention of the captive Emperor her brown eyes had grown very dark and hard, and her voice almost trembled. 'Kokóna Arethusa must look her best this morning,' objected Rustan's wife. 'She will receive a visit.' Zoë started a little, and instinctively drew the bed-clothes up to her chin. 'Already!' she exclaimed in a low tone. The negress grinned from ear to ear. 'The Kokóna will perhaps not spend another night under our humble roof,' she said. 'I do not know anything certainly as yet, because the customer has not seen you,' she continued more familiarly, 'but Rustan has consulted the astrologer, who says that these are fortunate days for our buying and our selling. So I do not doubt but that the customer will be pleased with your looks, Kokóna, for indeed, though I do not wish to flatter you, we have not entertained such a beauty in our modest home for a long time!' All this was, of course, intended to put Zoë in a good humour, in order that she might produce an agreeable impression on the expected purchaser. Rustan had once missed a very good bargain because the merchandise had burst into tears at the wrong moment. 'What sort of person is the customer?' asked the girl. 'Do you know who he is?' She asked the question quietly, but she held her breath as she waited for the reply. 'I forget his name,' answered the negress after a moment's thought. 'He is a foreigner, a rich young merchant who lives in a fine house by the Golden Horn.' 'A Christian, then?' Zoë asked, controlling her voice. The other pretended to be shocked. 'Does the Kokóna Arethusa believe that Rustan would be so wicked as to sell a Christian maid to the Turks? Rustan is a very devout man, Kokóna! He would not do such an irreligious thing!' Zoë remembered the allowance of three copper pennies daily, and how he had driven her to sell herself for Kyría Agatha's sake; but she did not care to impugn Rustan's piety. 'So the astrologer says that I shall be sold to-day,' she observed with an affectation of carelessness, though her heart was sinking, and she felt a little sick. 'Is he a great astrologer?' 'He is Rustan's friend, Gorlias Pietrogliant,' answered the negress, who was now turning over certain fine linen in the wardrobe. 'Yes, he is a good star-gazer, especially for merchants. He is very poor, but many have grown rich through consulting him.' She found what she wanted, and held up a beautifully embroidered garment of linen as fine as a web. 'And if you are so fortunate as to go to the rich merchant's house,' she added, 'you may win favour of him by telling him to consult Gorlias about his affairs whenever he is in doubt.' 'Gorlias.' Zoë repeated the name, for she had never heard it. 'Gorlias Pietrogliant, who lives near the church of Saint Sergius and Saint Bacchus. Every one in that quarter knows him.' 'I shall remember,' Zoë said. She understood at last why Rustan had been in the habit of going often to that church, where she had been kneeling in a dark corner when he had first seen her. Thence he had followed her to the ruined house. But she did not know that it was part of his regular business to frequent the churches of the poorest quarters, because it was there that starving girls were most often to be seen, praying to heaven for the bread that so rarely came from that direction. Many a good bargain had Rustan made by following a poor little ragged figure with a pretty face to a den of misery, and he was a perfect expert in doling out alms until his victim yielded or was forced to yield by her parents, for a handful of gold; nor has his method of conducting the business greatly changed, even in our own day, excepting that the slave-dealers themselves are mostly women now. Having selected all the garments necessary for Zoë's costume, the negress bade one of the slave-girls take away the remains of the supper and bring what was already prepared for the morning. The maid obeyed, and was not gone two minutes. She brought in a bowl of cherries, with white bread and butter and fresh water, all on a polished tray of chiselled brass. 'Fruit is better for the health than sweetmeats at this time of day,' observed the mistress of the house. 'By and by, at dinner, the Kokóna shall have all she wishes.' The little slaves looked at Zoë furtively and she smiled. 'Yes,' she said, 'fruit is much better in the morning.' Rustan's wife came and stood beside the bed and scrutinised Zoë's face. 'I think,' she said critically, 'that as the customer is a foreigner, it will be better not to paint your eyes. The natural shadows under them are not bad.' 'I never painted my face in my life!' cried the girl, rather indignantly. 'And the Kokóna is quite right!' answered the negress, anxious to keep her in a good humour. 'Besides,' she continued, fawning again, 'I am here only to do your bidding and to wait on you to-day. Will it please you to bathe now? I shall wait on you myself.' 'The little maids are very quick and clever,' objected Zoë, who hardly looked upon the strapping African as a woman. 'No doubt, Kokóna, but this is a part of our business, and I do it better than they.' 'I would rather let them help me, if I must be helped,' said Zoë. 'But, indeed, I am quite used to dressing myself.' 'And pray,' argued the negress, grinning and growing familiar again, 'how could Rustan give his customers a written guarantee, unless I assured him, that there is no cause for complaint, no blemish, no scar, no hidden deformity, no ugly birthmark?' Zoë turned her face away on the pillow. 'I had not thought of that,' she answered. 'Heaven forbid that I should myself,' returned the woman, relapsing into her obsequious manner again, 'if it were not to save the young Kokóna from any trouble or annoyance with our customer! If it will but please her to call herself my mistress and me her slave, she shall not be disappointed. If I am rough or clumsy she shall box my ears whenever she pleases, and I shall not complain!' The little maids devoutly wished that Zoë would avail herself of their tyrant's extraordinary offer, but they dared not smile. She still turned her face away and was silent. 'See!' coaxed the African. 'I take off my coat!' She suited the action to the word and divested herself of her outer garment, which was the long coat and skirt in one, worn only by free women. 'I cover my head, in the Kokóna's presence!' She quickly flattened her wild red hair under a kerchief which she knotted at the back of her neck. 'I roll up my sleeves! Am I anything but a slave, a bath-woman? Why will the beautiful Kokóna not let me wait on her?' Zoë turned her eyes and saw the change, and suddenly her objection vanished; for Rustan's wife looked precisely like the black slave-women who used to attend the ladies in the Roman bath in Rhangabé's palace. The association of ideas was so strong that the young girl could not help smiling faintly. 'As you please,' she said, raising herself upon one hand and preparing to get up. CHAPTER V Carlo Zeno's interview with Rustan had been short and business-like, as has been said. It was indeed not at all likely that a man of the Venetian's temper and tastes would talk with a Bokharian slave-dealer a moment longer than necessary. Rustan, on hearing what was wanted, declared that he had the very thing; in fact, by a wonderful coincidence, it was the very thing in the acme of perfection, a dream, a vision, fully worth four hundred ducats, and certainly not to be sold for three hundred; it had fine natural hair that had never been dyed; its teeth were twenty-eight in number, the wisdom teeth not having yet appeared, and Rustan would wager that Messer Carlo could not find a single pearl in all Constantinople to match one of those eight-and-twenty; its ankles were so finely turned that a woman could span them with her thumb and forefinger. Rustan felt safe in saying this, for his black wife's huge hand could have spanned Zoë's throat; also it had a most beautiful and slender waist, which, as Messer Carlo remarked, was certainly a point of beauty. Moreover, Rustan would deliver a signed and sealed certificate with it. For Zeno was conscientious, and held Marco Pesaro's letter in his hand while he questioned the Bokharian in regard to the various points in succession, lest he should forget any one of them. He did not in the least believe a word that Rustan said, of course. The East was never the land of simple, trusting faith between man and man. He would even have wagered that Rustan had nothing in his prison of the sort Pesaro wanted, and at the moment of the interview he would have been quite right. But he was tolerably sure that if he insisted on having the best, the best to be had would be forthcoming in a week at the utmost. Satisfied with this prospect, he dismissed Rustan and thought no more about the matter, except to wish that Marco Pesaro had not troubled him with such an absurd commission. A fine young gentleman of later times would probably have thought few quests more amusing than this, and would have dreamt that night of the beauties he intended to see before at last deciding upon the purchase. Doubtless, there were young Venetians even then in Constantinople who would have envied Zeno the amusing task of criticising pretty faces, hands, and ankles. But he was not of the same temper or disposition as those gay youths. He could not remember that any woman had ever made a very profound impression on him, even in his boyish days. When he was in Greece, it had been suggested to him that he might as well marry, like other young men, and he had allowed himself to be betrothed to a sleepy Greek heiress who had conceived an indolent but tenacious admiration for his fighting qualities; but it had pleased the fates that she should die before the wedding-day of a complication of the spleen superinduced by a surfeit of rose-leaf jam and honey-cakes. He was rather ashamed to own to himself that her translation to a better world had been a distinct relief to his feelings, for he had soon discovered that he did not love her, though he had been too kind to tell her so, and too honourable to think of breaking his promise of marriage. He did not despise women either; indeed, his conduct in the affair of his betrothal had proved that. Now and then he had paused in his restless career to think of a more peaceful life, and in the pictures that rose before his imagination there was generally a woman. Unhappily, he had never seen any one like her in real life, and when he was tired of dreaming he shrugged his shoulders at such impossibilities and went back to his adventurous existence without a sigh. Yet it might be thought that although he did not fall in love he might now and then spend careless hours with the free and frail, for he made no profession or show of austerity, and whatever he really might be, he did not aspire to be called a saint. He had been a wild student in Padua once, and had drunk deep and played high, until he had suddenly grown tired of stupid dissipation and had left the dice to play the more exciting game of life and death as a soldier of fortune under a condottiere, during five long wandering years. But at the core of his nature there was something ascetic which his comrades could never understand, and at which they laughed when he was not within hearing; for he was an evil man to quarrel with, as they had found out. He never killed his man in a duel if he could help it, but he had a way of leaving his mark for life on his adversary's face which few cared to risk. And now it was long indeed since his lips had touched a woman's, for his character had taken its final manly shape, and the only folly to which he still yielded now and then was that of risking his life recklessly whenever he fancied that a cause was worth it; but this he did not look upon as madness, still less as weakness, and there was no one to argue the question with him. His honest brown eyes softened sometimes, almost like a woman's, but only for pity or kindness, never for word or look of love. He rose in the bright spring morning just before the sun was up, and went down the steps at the water's edge below his house and swam far out in clear water that was still icy cold. Then he dressed himself completely as strong and healthy men do, who hate to feel that they are not ready to face anything from the beginning of the day. But while he was dressing he was not thinking of the errand that was to take him to Rustan's house an hour before noon. Indeed, he had quite forgotten it, till he saw Omobono folding Pesaro's letter in his neat way in order to file it for reference. As the secretary knew what it contained, and had been actively employed in the matter to which it referred, he had thought there could be no great sin of curiosity in reading it carefully while his master was at his toilet. It would have been wrong, he thought, to find out what was in it before Zeno himself had broken the seal, but since it was open, it was evidently better that the secretary should understand precisely what was wanted of his employer, for such knowledge could only increase his own usefulness. For the rest, he vaguely hoped that Zeno would take him into close confidence and ask his opinion of any merchandise he thought of buying; for Omobono had a high opinion of his own taste in beauty, and had wished to pass for a lively spark in his young days. But Zeno evidently considered himself qualified to decide the matter without help, for when it lacked an hour of noon he set his secretary at work on a fair copy of a letter he had been preparing, ordered his horse and running footman, and went upon his errand without any other attendant or companion. Omobono looked out of the window and watched him as he mounted, innocently envying him his youth and strength. The greatest fighting man of his century moved as such men generally do, without haste and without effort, never wasting a movement and never making an awkward one, never taking a fine attitude for the sake of effect, as the young men of Raphael's pictures so often seem to be doing, but always and everywhere unconsciously graceful, self-possessed, and ready for anything. He rode a half-bred brown Arab mare, for he was not a heavy man, and he preferred a serviceable mount at all times to the showy and ill-tempered white Barbary, or the rather delicate thoroughbred of the desert, which were favourites with the rich Greeks of Constantinople. He was quietly dressed, too; and his bare-legged runner, who cleared the way for him when the streets were crowded, wore a plain brown tunic and cap, and did not yell at the poorer people and slaves or strike them in passing as the footmen of great personages always did. Zeno had picked him out of at least a hundred for his endurance and his long wind. So they went quietly and quickly along, the man and his master, following very nearly the way which Omobono had taken on the previous afternoon, till they came to the long wall crested with sharp bits of rusty iron and broken crockery, and stopped before the only door that broke its blank length. Zeno looked at the defence critically, and wondered just how great an inducement would make him take the trouble of getting over it, at the risk of cutting his hands and tearing his clothes. Before any one answered his footman's knock, he had decided that it would be an easy matter to bring his well-broken horse close to the wall, to stand on the saddle, draw himself up and throw a heavy cloak over the spiky iron and the sharp-edged shards with one hand while hanging by the other. The rest would be easy enough. It was always his instinct to make such calculations when he entered or passed by any place that was meant to be defended. This time the door was opened by Rustan Karaboghazji in person, and he bowed to the ground as Zeno got off his horse and stood beside him. Still bending low he made way and with a wide gesture invited his visitor to enter. But Zeno had no intention of wasting time by going in till he was assured that there was something ready for his inspection in the way of merchandise. In answer to his question Rustan turned up his face sideways and smiled cunningly as he gradually straightened himself. 'Your Magnificence shall see!' he answered. 'Where is the letter? Every point is perfect, as I promised.' 'Were you really speaking the truth?' laughed Zeno. 'I expected to come at least three times before seeing anything!' Rustan assumed an expression of gentle reproach. 'If your Splendour had dealt with Barlaam, the Syrian merchant, or with Abraham of Smyrna, the Jewish caravan-broker,' he said, 'it would have been as your Greatness deigns to suggest. Moreover, your Highness would not have been satisfied after all, and would have come at last to the house of your servant Rustan Karaboghazji, surnamed the Truth-speaker and the Just, and also the Keeper of Promises, by those who know him. It must have been so, since there is but one treasure in all the Empire such as your Mightiness asks for, and it is in this house.' Zeno laughed carelessly, and entered. 'Your Unspeakableness is amused,' said Rustan, fastening the outer door carefully with both keys. 'But if it is not as I say, I entreat your High Mightiness to kick his humble servant from this door to the Seven Towers and back again, passing by the Chora, Blachernæ, and the Church of the Blessed Pantokrator on the way.' 'That would take a long time,' observed Zeno. 'Open the door and let me see the girl.' 'Your Grandeur shall see, indeed!' answered Rustan, smiling confidently as he led the way. 'Rustan the Truth-speaker,' he continued, as if to himself while walking, 'Karaboghazji the faithful Keeper of Promises!' He gently caressed his beautiful black beard as he went on. He took Zeno through the small part of the house which he reserved for his own use, far from the larger rooms where he kept his stock of slaves. In an inner apartment they met the negress, resplendent in scarlet velvet and a heavy gold chain, her red hair combed straight out from her head. When Zeno appeared, she at once assumed what she considered a modest but engaging attitude, crossing her great hands upon her splendid coat, and looking down with a marvellous attempt at a simper. Rustan stood still and for a moment Zeno thought that the dealer had ventured to jest with him, by showing him the terrific negress in her finery as the incomparable treasure of which he had spoken. But Rustan's words explained everything. 'My Life,' he said, speaking to his wife in a caressing tone, 'is the girl ready to be seen?' 'As my lord commanded me,' replied the negress, keeping her hands folded and bending a little. 'This lady,' said Rustan to Zeno, 'is my wife, and my right hand.' He turned to her. 'Sweet Dove,' he said, 'pray lead his Magnificence to the slave's room. I will wait here.' Zeno seemed surprised at this arrangement. 'My wife' explained Rustan, 'understands the creatures better than I. My business is buying and selling; it is her part to keep the merchandise in good condition, and to show it to the customers who honour us.' He smiled pleasantly as he said this, and remained standing while Zeno followed the negress out of the room. As he walked behind her he could not help noting her strong square shoulders, and the swing of her powerful hips, and her firm tread, and he conceived the idea that she would be a match for any ordinary man in a tussle. He was certainly not thinking of the slave-girl he was about to inspect. Another door opened, and he was in a room flooded with sunshine and sweet with spring flowers; he stopped, and unconsciously drew one sharp breath of surprise. Zoë had been sitting in a big chair in the sun, and had half risen as the door opened, her hand resting on one of the arms of the seat. Her eyes met Zeno's, and for a moment no one moved. If Rustan had been present he would have raised the price of the merchandise to five hundred ducats at least; the black woman only grinned, well pleased with the appearance of the girl whom she had herself dressed to receive the customer's visit of inspection. Zoë's hand tightened a little on the arm of the chair and she sank quietly into her seat again as she turned her eyes from Zeno's face, forgetting that she had promised herself to stand erect and cold as a slave should when she is being exhibited. If the Venetian still doubted that by some mysterious chance of fate the girl he had come to buy at the slave-dealer's was as well born as himself, her movement as she sat down dispelled his lingering uncertainty. He had entered the room carelessly, still wearing his cap. As Zoë resumed her seat, he took it from his head, bowing instinctively, as he would have done on meeting a woman of his own class. A faint colour rose in the girl's cheeks, as she looked at him again. Rustan's wife laughed silently, standing a little behind him. Zoë spoke first. 'Pray, sir,' she said, 'be covered.' 'His High Mightiness uncovers his head for coolness,' said the negress. Zeno gave her a sharp glance and then turned to Zoë. 'It is not possible that you are a slave,' he said, coming a little nearer and looking down into her face. But she would not meet his eyes. 'It is the truth, sir,' she said. 'I am a slave and any one may buy me and take me away.' 'Then you have been carried off by force,' Zeno answered with conviction, 'in war, perhaps, or in some raid of enemies on enemies. Tell me who you are and how it happened, and by the body of blessed Saint Mark, I will give you back free to your own people!' Zoë looked at him in silent surprise. The negress answered him at once, for she did not like the turn affairs were taking, and though she had never heard of Carlo Zeno, she judged from his looks that he was able to make good his promise. 'Your Splendour does not really believe that my husband would risk the punishment of a robber for carrying off a free woman!' she cried. 'I am a slave,' Zoë said quietly. 'Only a slave and nothing else. There is no more than that to tell.' She drew one hand across her brow and eyes as if to shut out something or to drive it away. Zeno came nearer and stood alone beside her. 'Tell me your story,' he said in a lower tone. 'Do not be afraid! no one shall hurt you.' 'There is no more to tell,' she repeated, shaking her head. 'But you are kind, and I thank you very much.' She raised her clear brown eyes gratefully to his for a moment. There was sadness in them, but he saw that she had not been weeping; and like a man, he argued that if she were very unhappy she would, of course, shed copious tears the live-long day, like the captive maidens in the tales of chivalry. He looked at the beautiful young hand, now lying on the arm of the chair, and for the first time in his life he felt embarrassed. The negress, who was not at all used to such methods in the buying and selling of humanity, now came forward and began to call attention to the fine quality of her goods. 'Very fine natural hair,' she observed. 'Your Gorgeousness will see at once that it has never been dyed.' She took one of Zoë's plaits in her hand, and the girl shrank a little at the touch. 'Let her alone!' Zeno said sharply. 'I am not blind.' 'It is her business to show me,' Zoë answered for her, in a tone of submission. [Illustration: 'Tell me your story,' he said in a lower tone. 'Do not be afraid! no one shall hurt you.'] 'It shall not be her business much longer,' replied Zeno, almost to himself. He suddenly turned away from her, went to the open window, and looked out, laying one hand on the iron bars. It was not often that he hesitated, but he found himself faced by a very unexpected difficulty. He was executing a commission for a friend, and if he bought a slave with his friend's money, he should feel bound in honour to send her to her new master at the first opportunity. On the other hand, though it was perfectly clear from the girl's behaviour that she expected no better fate, he was intimately convinced that in some way a great wrong was being done, and he had never yet passed a wrong by without trying to right it with his purse or his sword. Clearly, he was still at liberty to buy Zoë for himself, and take her to his home; yet he shrank from such a solution of the problem, as if it were the hardest of all. What should he do with a young and lovely girl in his house, where there were no women, where no woman ever set foot? She would need female attendants, and of course he could buy them for her, or hire them; but he thought with strong distaste of such an establishment as all this would force upon him. Besides, he could not keep the girl for ever, merely because he suspected that she was born a lady and was the victim of some great injustice. She denied that she was. What if she should persist in her denial after he had bought her to set her free? What if she really had no family, no home, no one to whom she could go, or wished to go? He would not turn her out, then; he would not sell her again, and he should not want her. Moreover, he knew well enough that it was not his nature to go on leading the peaceful life of a merchant much longer, even if the threatening times would permit it. He had always been as free as air. As he was now living, if it should please him to leave Constantinople, he could do so in twenty-four hours, leaving his business, though at a loss, to another merchant--for he had prospered. But it would be otherwise if this girl were in the house, under his protection, and it never occurred to him, after he had looked into her eyes, that she could live under his roof except in order that he might protect her--protect her from imaginary enemies, right imaginary wrongs she had never suffered, and altogether make of her what she protested that she was not. It was absurd to think of such a thing, and having come to this conclusion in a shorter time than it has taken me to describe his thoughts, he turned abruptly with the intention of buying her for Marco Pesaro's account. Unfortunately, when he saw her face he could not do it. 'I will send a palanquin for you in an hour,' he said hurriedly, and he made for the door in evident anxiety to get away without exchanging another word with Zoë. The negress followed him quickly into the next room, very much surprised at his way of doing business. 'If it please your Glory,' she began, overtaking him with difficulty, but he would not listen, and hurried on. 'I will settle with Rustan,' he said. But in the room where he had left her, Zoë was leaning back in her chair alone, gazing at the sunlit window. At that very moment, so far as she knew, the gold was being counted out that was the price of her young life. In an hour she would be taken away in a closed litter, as she had been brought last night, she would be carried into another house, the slide would slip back, and she would be told to get down. The voice would be a man's. Who was he? What was his name? What was she to be to him? He was a Venetian, she guessed by his dress, and she felt that his blood was gentle, like her own. But that was all, though she was already his property. It was dreadful; or, at least, it should be dreadful to think of! She felt that she ought to long for death now, a thousand times more earnestly than last night. But she did not. For she was a most womanly woman already, though not nineteen, and there are few women of that intensely feminine temper who cannot judge at a first meeting with a man whether they can gain power over him or not. Moreover, this strength is greatest with men who are most profoundly masculine, because it is not the influence of one character over another, but the deeper, stronger, more mysterious power of sex over sex. CHAPTER VI Little Omobono's thin legs carried him up and down the stairs of Zeno's house at an astonishing pace during the next hour; for Carlo gave fifty orders, every one of which he insisted should be executed at once. It was not a small thing to instal a woman luxuriously in a house in which no woman had set foot since Carlo had lived there, and to do this within sixty minutes. It is true that the rich young merchant had great store of thick carpets and fine stuffs, and all sorts of silver vessels, and weapons from Damascus, and carved ivory chessmen from India; but though some of these things quickly furnished the upper rooms which Zeno set apart for the valuable slave's use while she remained under his roof, yet scimitars, chessmen, and heathen idols of jade were poor substitutes for all the things a woman might be expected to need at a moment's notice, from hairpins and hand-mirrors to fine linen pillow-cases, sweetmeats, and a lap-dog. Zeno's ideas of a woman's requirements were a little vague, but he determined that Zoë should want nothing, and he charged Omobono with the minute execution of his smallest commands. He himself lived simply and almost rudely. He slept on a small hard divan with a little hard cushion under his head, and a cloak to cover him in cold weather. He hated hot water, scented soap, and all the soft luxuries of the Roman bath. There was no mirror in his room, no elaborate toilet service of gold and silver, such as fine young gentlemen used even then. He liked a good dinner when he was hungry, good wine when he was thirsty, and a wide easy-chair when he had worked all day; but it never had cost him a moment's discomfort to exchange such a home as he now lived in for the camp or the sea. Women were different beings, however, so he made all allowances for them, and went to extreme lengths in estimating their necessities, as Omobono found to his cost. Yet with all his preoccupation for details, Zeno forgot that Zoë must have a woman to wait on her at once, and when he realised the omission, almost at the last minute, the future conqueror of the Genoese, the terror of the Mediterranean, the victorious general of the Paduan campaign, the hero of thirty pitched battles and a score of sea-fights, felt his heart sink with something like fear. What would have happened if he had not remembered just in time that Marco Pesaro's slave must have a maid? She should have two, or three, or as many as she needed. 'Omobono,' he said, as the little secretary came up the stairs for the twentieth time, 'go out quickly and buy two maids. They must be young, healthy, clean, clever, and silent. Lose no time!' 'Two maids?' The secretary's jaw dropped. 'Two maids?' he repeated almost stupidly. 'Yes. Is there anything wonderful in that? Did you expect to wait on the lady yourself?' 'The lady?' Omobono opened his little eyes very wide. 'I mean,' answered Zeno, correcting himself, 'the--the young person who is going to be lodged here. Lose no time, I say! Go as fast as you can!' Omobono turned and went, not having the least idea where to go. Before he had reached the outer door, Zeno called after him down the stairs. 'Stop!' cried the merchant. 'It is too late. You must go and get the lady--the young person. Take two palanquins instead of one, and tell Rustan to let her choose her own slaves. You can put the two into one litter and bring them all together.' 'But the price, sir?' enquired Omobono, who was a man of business. 'Rustan will ask what he pleases if I take him such a message!' 'Tell him that if he is not reasonable he shall do no more business with Venetians,' answered Zeno, from the head of the marble stairs. Omobono nodded obediently and followed his instructions. So it came to pass that before long he found himself within Rustan's outer wall with two palanquins and eight bearers, besides a couple of Zeno's trusty men-servants, well armed, for he carried a large sum of money in gold. The Bokharian and the secretary went into an inner room to count and weigh the ducats, but before this began Omobono delivered his message in full. [Illustration: 'Forty ducats!' cried Omobono, casting up his eyes, and preparing to bargain for at least half an hour.] 'I have the very thing,' said Karaboghazji. 'There are two girls who have waited on her and with whom she is much pleased. As for asking too high a price, forty ducats for the two is nothing. They are a gift, at that.' 'Forty ducats!' cried Omobono, casting up his eyes, and preparing to bargain for at least half an hour. 'If it is dear,' said Rustan, his face becoming like stone, 'may my tongue never speak the truth again!' Considering attentively the consequences of such an awful fate Omobono did not think that the Bokharian risked any great inconvenience if the imprecation should take effect. 'It is far from me,' said the secretary, 'to suggest that your words are not literally true, according to your own light. But you must be aware that the price of maid-servants has fallen much since yesterday, owing to the arrival of a shipload of them from Tanais.' Rustan shook his head and maintained his stony expression. 'They are worthless,' he said. 'Do you suppose I should not have bought the best of them? There has been a plague of smallpox in their country, and they are all pitted. They are as oranges, blighted by hail.' As Omobono had invented the ship and its cargo, he found it hard to refute Rustan's argument, which was quite as good as his own. 'May my fingers be turned round in their sockets and close on the back of my hand, if I have asked one ducat too much,' said the Bokharian with stolid calm. Omobono hesitated, for a new idea had struck him. Before he could answer, a door opened and Rustan's wife, who had put off her finery, ushered in Zoë, closely veiled and wrapped in the cloak she had worn on the previous night. It was, in fact, necessary that she should be delivered up in return for the gold, and the negress had supposed that the counting was almost over. 'My turtle dove,' said Rustan in dulcet tones, 'fetch those two girls who have waited on Kokóna Arethusa. The Venetian merchant will buy them for her.' The negress grinned and went out. By this time Omobono had made up his mind what to say. 'My dear sir,' he began, in a conciliatory tone, consider that we are friends, and do not ask an exorbitant price. I beseech you to be obliging, by four toes and five toes.' Omobono wondered what would happen after he had pronounced the mysterious words. Rustan looked keenly at him and was silent for a moment. Neither of them noticed that Zoë made a quick movement as she stood by the table between them. The Bokharian rose suddenly and went to shut the door. 'Where?' he asked as he crossed the small room. Omobono's face fell at the unexpected and apparently irrelevant question. Instantly Zoë bent down and whispered three words in his ear. Before Rustan turned back to hear the clerk's answer, she was standing erect and motionless again, and he did not suspect that she had moved. 'Over the water,' answered Omobono, with perfect confidence. 'You may have the two for four-and-twenty ducats,' said Rustan. 'But you cannot expect me to take anything off the price of the Kokóna,' he added. 'I bargained with your master, and he agreed.' 'No, no! Certainly! And I thank you, sir.' 'I suppose,' said Rustan, 'that you would do as much for me.' 'Of course, of course,' answered Omobono. 'Shall we count the ducats?' When the operation was almost finished, the negress returned with the two slave-girls, whose commonplace features were wreathed in smiles, and they began to kiss the hem of Zoë's cloak. Omobono inspected them critically. 'Are you pleased with them, Kokóna?' he enquired of Zoë. 'My master is very anxious that you should be satisfied.' 'Indeed I am,' Zoë answered readily. 'They are very clever little maids.' The two were almost crying with delight, and only a meaning movement of the negress's hand to her girdle checked them. They were not out of her power yet. Omobono eyed them, and really thought them cheap at twelve ducats each, as indeed they were. He was paying four hundred for Zoë, but Rustan did not mean her to see the gold, and had covered it with one of his loose sleeves as she entered. He now begged his wife take the three slaves to the palanquins while he finished counting and weighing, and wrote out his receipt for the money. He called the negress his pet mouse, his little bird, and the down-quilted waistcoat of his heart, and but for her terrific appearance, and the weapon she carried in her girdle, Omobono would have laughed outright. Rustan wrote on a strip of parchment, in bad Greek:-- In the name of the Holy Trinity, Constantinople, the Saturday before Passion Sunday, the second year of Andronicus Augustus Cæsar, and the fourteenth of the Indiction, I have received from the Most Magnificent Carlo Zeno, a Venetian, the sum of four hundred and forty gold ducats of Venice, for the following merchandise:-- For one Greek maid slave, slave-born, between seventeen and eighteen years old, answering to the name of Arethusa, without blemish, scar, or birthmark, having natural brown hair, brown eyes, twenty-eight teeth all sound, weighing two Attic talents and five minæ more or less, and speaking Greek, Latin, and Italian Ducats 400 For two maid slaves, from Tanais, slave-born, of fourteen and fifteen, answering to the names of Lucilla and Yulia, sound, healthy, never having been tortured or branded, each having black hair, black eyes, and twenty-eight teeth, trained to wait on a lady, and speaking intelligible Greek, besides a barbarous dialect of their own, warranted docile, and not given to stealing; at 20 ducats each Ducats 40 ---------- In all Ducats 440 ========== RUSTAN KARABOGHAZJI, the son of Daddirján, _Merchant_. (_Witness_)--SEBASTIAN OMOBONO, of Venice, _Clerk_. Omobono observed that the receipt acknowledged forty ducats as the price of the two girls, instead of twenty-four. 'Rustan Karaboghazji, surnamed the Truth-speaker, does not sell slaves at twelve ducats,' answered the Bokharian with dignity. 'Moreover, your employer will see that he has paid forty, and you can justly keep the sixteen ducats for yourself.' 'That would not be honest,' protested Omobono, shaking his neat grey beard. Rustan smiled, in a pitying way. 'You Venetians do not really understand business,' he said, tightening the strings of the canvas bag into which he had swept the gold, and knotting them as he rose. A few minutes later Omobono was trudging along after the two palanquins, wondering much at certain things that had happened to him during the last twenty-four hours and less. For he was curious, as you know, and it irritated him to feel that something was going on in the world, all about him and near him, of which he could not even guess the nature, manifesting itself in such nonsensical phrases as 'four toes and five toes,' and 'over the water,' which nevertheless produced such truly astonishing results. Since the previous afternoon he had met four persons who knew those absurd words,--the negress, her Bokharian husband, the sacristan to Saints Sergius and Bacchus, and a Greek slave-girl, whom he was far from recognising as the beautiful creature he had seen yesterday in the ruined house in the beggars' quarter. She was so closely veiled to-day that he could not in the least guess what her face was like. Since she not only knew the first password, but had whispered the second to him, he wondered why she had not used her knowledge to get her freedom. It was incredible that the people who knew the words should not be banded together in some secret brotherhood; but if they were brethren, how could they sell one another into slavery? Omobono was so much interested in these problems that he did not see where he was till the leading palanquin entered Zeno's gate. Zeno himself was not to be seen. The servant at the door gave Omobono a slip of cotton paper on which the merchant had written an order. The secretary was to take his charges to what was now the women's apartment and leave them there. Zoë obeyed Omobono's directions in silence, still veiled, and the two maids tripped up the marble stairs after her, as happy as birds on a May morning, and taking in all they saw with wondering eyes; for they had never been in a fine house before. 'This is the Kokóna's apartment,' Omobono said, standing aside to let Zoë pass. 'If the Kokóna desires anything, she will please to send one of her maids to me. I am the master's secretary.' He had been surprised when Zeno spoke of her as a 'lady,' but somehow, since she had whispered in his ear at the slave-dealer's house, and since he had seen her movement and carriage when she walked upstairs, he instinctively treated her and spoke to her as if she were his superior. She nodded her thanks now, but said nothing, and he went away. She looked after him and listened, but no key was turned after the door was closed, and she heard only his retreating steps on the marble stairs. Then she turned to the window, which was open, and she threw aside her veil and looked out upon the Golden Horn. The two little maids at once began a minute examination of the rooms, which occupied more than half the upper story of the house, and were, if anything, too crowded with rich furniture, with divans, carved tables, hanging lamps, cushioned seats, and pillows of every size, shape, and colour. There were handsome wardrobes, too, full of the fine clothes Zoë was to wear. The girls touched everything and talked by signs, lest they should disturb Zoë's meditations. They told each other that the master of the house must be highly pleased with his slave, since he surrounded her with beautiful things; that these things were all new, which was a sign that there was no other woman in the house; and that they were very fortunate and happy to have been sold, after only a month of apprenticeship under the negress's merciless training. They also explained to each other that they were hungry, for it was past noon. The idea of running away had probably never occurred to either of them, even in Rustan's house. Where should they go? And besides, the fate of runaway slaves was before their eyes. Meanwhile Zeno sat in his balconied room alone. Omobono had delivered the receipt and had simply told him that sixteen ducats had been saved on the bargain, though Rustan did not wish it known. Thereupon Zeno gave the secretary a couple of ducats for himself, which Omobono saw no reason for not taking. Zeno was preoccupied and chose to be alone, so he dismissed his secretary with injunctions to rest after the labour of installing the new arrival, which had not been light, and he walked up and down his room in deep thought. He had acted on an impulse altogether against his own judgment, and now he was faced by the unpleasant necessity of justifying his conduct in his own eyes. One thing was quite clear; so long as he did not draw from the house of Cornèr the money which Marco Pesaro had sent to the banker for the commission, the merchandise was his property, since he had paid for it. But he must make up his mind whether he meant to call it his own, or not. If he decided to keep Arethusa, he must at once set about finding another slave for Marco Pesaro, or else write to say that he declined to execute the commission. In that case, Arethusa remained his. The reason why he had so suddenly determined to buy her was that he fancied she was a girl of good family whom some great misfortune had brought into her present distress. But she had calmly declared that she was a slave, and expected nothing better than to be sold. If this were true he had paid four hundred ducats for a foolish fancy. She was perhaps the child of some beautiful slave, and had been carefully educated by her mother's owner; and the latter, needing money perhaps, had sent her to the market; or perhaps he had died and his heirs were selling his property. All this was very unsatisfactory. If she was slave-born, Zeno's best course was to send Arethusa to Pesaro, as soon as the Venetian ship sailed, for he had not the least intention of wasting money in a futile attempt to free slaves whom the law regarded as born to their condition. Their position was a misfortune, no doubt, but they were used to it, and no one had then dreamed of man's inherent right of freedom, excepting one or two popes and fanatics who had been considered visionaries. To Zeno, who was a man of his own times, it seemed quite as absurd that every one should be born free, as it would seem to you that everybody should be born an English duke, a Tammany boss, a great opera tenor, or Crown Prince of the Empire. Moreover, in the case of a beauty, especially of one sold to live in Venice, there were palliations, as Zeno knew. Arethusa would live in luxury; she would also soon be the real dominant in Marco Pesaro's household, as favourite slaves very generally were in the palaces of those who owned them. They had not yet all the vast influence in Venice which they gained in the following century, but their power was already waxing balefully. Zeno did not hesitate long; he never did, and when he had made up his mind he sent for one of Arethusa's maids. 'What is your name, child?' he asked, scrutinising the girl's commonplace features and intelligent eyes. 'Yulia, Magnificence,' she answered. 'If it please you,' she added diffidently, as if half-expecting that he would choose to call her something else. 'Yulia,' repeated Zeno, fixing the name in his memory, 'and what do you call your mistress?' he asked abruptly. The girl was puzzled by the question. 'Her name is Arethusa,' she answered, after a moment's reflection. 'I know that. But when you speak to her, what do you call her? When she gives you an order, how do you answer her? You do not merely say, "Yes, Arethusa," or "No, Arethusa," do you? She would not be pleased.' Yulia smiled and shook her head. 'We call her Kokóna,' she answered. 'Is not that the Greek word for young lady, your Magnificence?' 'Yes,' said Zeno, 'that is the Greek word for young lady. But Arethusa is only a slave as you are. Why do you give her a title? What makes you think she is a lady?' 'She is a different kind of slave. She cost much gold. Besides, if we did not call her Kokóna she would perhaps pull our hair or scratch our faces. Who knows? We are only ignorant little maids, but so much the big negress at the slave-prison taught us.' 'She taught you manners, did she?' Zeno smiled at the idea. 'She made us cry very often, but it was the better for us,' answered the maid, with philosophy beyond her years. 'We have fetched a good price, and we have a good master, and we are together, all because we waited cleverly on the Kokóna one night and one morning.' 'One night?' asked Zeno, in surprise. 'She was only brought to the slave-prison yesterday evening, Magnificence.' 'At what time?' 'It was the third hour of darkness, for the black woman sent the others to bed as soon as she was brought.' Zeno thought over this information for a moment. 'Tell her,' said he, 'that I shall sup with her this evening. That is all.' Yulia, who had kept her hands respectfully before her, made a little obeisance, turned quickly, and ran away, leaving the master of the house to his meditations. She found Zoë still sitting by the window, and the dainty dishes which Lucilla had received on a chiselled bronze tray and had placed beside her were untasted. 'The master bids me say that he will sup with you to-night, Kokóna,' said Yulia. Zoë made a slight movement, but controlled herself, and said nothing, though the colour rose to her face, and she turned quite away from the maids lest they should see it. They stood still a long time, waiting her pleasure. 'Will it not please you to eat something?' asked Yulia timidly, after a time. 'You have eaten nothing since last night, and even then it was little.' 'I thought I ate all the sweetmeats,' answered Zoë, turning and smiling a little at the recollection of the girls' terror. The hours passed and nothing happened. Some time after dinner she saw from her upper window that Zeno came out of the house and went down the marble steps to a beautiful skiff that was waiting there. As he stepped in, she drew far back from the window lest he should look up and see that she had been watching him. She heard his voice as he gave an order to the two watermen; their oars fell with a gentle plash, and when she looked again they were pulling the boat away upstream, towards the palace of Blachernæ and the Sweet Waters. The maids, having eaten of the most delicious food they had ever tasted till they could eat no more, had curled themselves up together on a carpet not far from their mistress, and were fast asleep. The shadow of the house lengthened till it slanted out to the right beyond the marble steps upon the placid water, and the bright sunlight that fell on Pera and Galata began to turn golden; so, when gold has been melted to white heat in the crucible, it begins to cool, grows tawny, and is shot with streaks of red. As the day waned in a purple haze and the air grew colder, the two maids awoke together, rubbed their eyes, and instantly sprung to their feet. Zoë had not even noticed them, but just then the even plashing of oars was heard again, and she saw the skiff coming back, but without Zeno. She looked again to be sure that it was the same boat, and a ray of hope flashed in her thoughts like summer lightning. Perhaps he had changed his mind, and would not come--not to-night. The maids reminded her of his message, and she let them dress her again for the evening. They arranged her hair, and twined strings of pearls in it, which they had found in a sandal-wood box on the dressing-table. They took clothes from the wardrobes, fine linen, wrought with wonderful needlework, and pale silks, and velvet of faintest blue embroidered with silver threads; and when they had done their best they held two burnished metal mirrors before her and behind her, that she might admire herself. They had lighted many little lamps that were all prepared, for it was now dark out of doors, and they had spent two hours in arraying Zoë. And she smiled and patted their cheeks, and called them clever girls, for she was sure that Zeno had changed his mind. He would not come to her to-night. But even as she repeated the words to herself, he came softly through the warm lamplight and stood before her, and her heart stopped beating. For the first time since she had taken the final step, she felt the whole extent and meaning of what she had done. She was really a slave, and she was alone with her master. CHAPTER VII 'Are you afraid of me?' Zeno asked the question gently, for the colour had left her face; and she looked up at him with a frightened stare. He had once seen a like terror in the eyes of a startled doe, as if a clouded opal passed across its sight. Zoë did not answer, but she moved instinctively, drawing herself together, as it were, and turning one shoulder to him. He heard her breathing hard. It was a very new thing that he felt; for often, in fight, and often again, he had seen strong men turn pale before him, just when they felt that he was a master of the sword and was going to kill, but he had never seen a woman afraid of him in his life. In his narrow experience, they had always seemed glad that he should be near them, and should speak to them. Therefore, when he saw that Zoë was terrified, he did not know what to do or say, and he stupidly repeated his question, 'Are you afraid of me?' Zoë dug her little nails into the palms of her hands, and looked round the room, as if for help; but the two maids had disappeared as soon as the master had entered, for so they had been taught to do by their trainer. She was quite alone with the man who had paid for her. [Illustration: All sorts of confused thoughts crowded her brain, as Zeno sat down on a seat beside the divan.] All sorts of confused thoughts crowded her brain, as Zeno sat down on a seat beside the divan. She wondered what would happen if she told him her story in a few words, and appealed to his generosity. She guessed that he was kind; at least, sometimes. But perhaps he was a friend of the new Emperor, and it would amuse him to know that he had bought Michael Rhangabé's daughter. Or he might send for Rustan, and insist on revoking the bargain, and Rustan might take her back to the beggars' quarter, and force poor Kyría Agatha to give up the money. Zoë knew at once little and much of the world of Constantinople, but of one thing she was certain, there would be neither mercy nor kindness for any of her name while Andronicus reigned in Blachernæ. She was terrified by the presence of her master, but she was perfectly brave in her resolve; the sight of death itself before her eyes should not make her do anything whereby those for whom she had sold herself might suffer. Zeno sat still and looked at her. It seemed to him that she was far more beautiful than he had at first realised. As she leaned sideways against the big cushions, turning her face away and her shoulder towards him, there was something in the line of her cheek and of her neck where it joined the ear, and in the little downy ringlets at the roots of her hair that stirred his blood, against his will. Also, the devil came and whispered to his heart that she was his personal property, as much as his horse, his house and his stores of merchandise. The laws about slaves were uncertain enough in Italy, but there was no doubt of the law in Constantinople. The slave Arethusa, weighing so many talents and minæ, having so many sound teeth, and other good points, was the absolute property of Carlo Zeno. He might kill her, if he liked, in any way he chose, and the law would not call it murder. There would be one slave less, and he would have thrown away four hundred gold ducats; but that would be all. She seemed to him the most beautiful creature in the world, and the devil was not suggesting that he should kill her; not by any means. For a long time, the man and his slave were silent, and scarcely moved, and neither of them afterwards forgot those minutes. In their thoughts each was struggling with what seemed an impossibility, a something which could never be done. The high-born girl, for the sake of a mother who was not her mother, and of brothers who were not of her blood, was resolved to be to the end what she had made herself to save their lives, the obedient slave of a merchant who had paid gold for her. It was worse than death, but if she did not die of it, she must live through it, lest the good she had done should be undone again. The man who had the law's own right of life and death over her, and whose warm young blood her beauty stirred so profoundly, chose to resist and play that he was not the master after all. His lean face was calm enough in the quiet lamplight, as it would have been in raging battle; but within was that he would not care to feel again, nor perhaps to let others know that he had felt. At last, wondering at the stillness, half-believing and quite hoping that he was no longer in the room, Zoë turned her head. His eyes were on her, but there was something in them that she could not fear. 'Tell me who you are,' he said quietly. Of all questions she had least expected this one, which seemed so natural to him. She waited a moment before she spoke. 'Are you dissatisfied, sir?' she asked in a low voice. 'Has the Bokharian cheated you?' 'No! What a thought!' 'Then you know what I am, and I can tell you nothing more, my lord. Can a slave have a pedigree?' 'I do not believe that you were born a slave,' said Zeno, leaning forward a little and looking into her eyes. After a moment, her lids drooped under his gaze, but she would not speak. 'Have you nothing to say?' he asked, disappointed at her silence. Again the temptation seized her to tell him all, since he spoke so kindly; but still she thought of what might happen to Kyría Agatha. 'I am your bought slave,' she said, almost directly. 'I have nothing else to tell.' 'But you had a mother?' 'I never knew her.' 'Your father, then?' 'I never knew him.' Zeno was not always patient, even with women, and there was no reason why he should be forbearing with his own property. 'I do not believe you,' he said in a tone of annoyance, and he rose and began to pace the room. Now it chanced that Zoë had been able to answer his last two questions quite truthfully, for she had not the least recollection of her own father and mother, who had died of the plague when she was three months old. 'I will swear to you on all holy things that it is true,' she said, watching him. He made an impatient gesture. 'A slave cannot take an oath,' he answered roughly. Zoë lifted her beautiful head at once, and her eyes shone; but he did not see, for he had turned his back on her in his walk, and a moment later she resumed her former submissive attitude. Zeno stopped near the door and clapped his hands; the two maids appeared. 'Bring supper,' he said. As they went to obey he came back and sat down again beside the divan. There was just room to place a small table between him and Zoë. The girls came back and waited on them, but neither spoke. Zeno prepared a salad himself with ingredients brought ready for making it, and when it was dressed he helped Zoë to a little of it. She had watched him, for the Italian custom was new to her and she had never known how a salad was composed. Zeno poured Greek wine into her glass, a delicate white goblet from Murano, with faint blue lines round the stem. But she neither ate nor drank. 'Go,' said Zeno to the maids. 'I will call you.' The two slipped away noiselessly. Zeno had forgotten his displeasure, and he felt her presence again. 'You must eat and drink,' he said gently. 'If there is anything you like, tell me. You shall have it.' 'You are kind,' she answered, but she did not lift her hand. 'I have no appetite,' she added, after a little pause. I do not know why no man believes a woman when she says that she is not hungry. Zeno was annoyed, and by way of showing his displeasure he himself began to eat more than he wanted. Zoë looked on in silence while he finished another bird and all the salad he had made. She would not have been a woman if she had not seen that he felt a little shy, all at once, as the most fearless and energetic men may before a woman they do not understand. Then there was a change for the better in her own state; she breathed more freely, her heart beat more steadily, the weight that lay like lead on her chest, just below her throat, was lightened. When a woman sees that a man is shy with her, she is sure that sooner or later he will turn at her will; and though she is sometimes mistaken, the chances are that she is right. Zeno had never been shy before; but now, when he wished to speak, he could find nothing to say, and Zoë knew it, and would not help him. It was strange that as her fear subsided she thought him handsomer than at first sight, in the morning. When he had finished eating, he drank some wine, set down the glass, and looked at her with an expression that was meant to show something like anger; for he already regretted the time--distant five minutes--when she had been afraid of him, and he had been master of the situation. He drew his brows together, set his lips, and glared at her, but to his amazement she did not seem frightened. He had lost the thread, for the time, and she had found it. She answered his look with one of gentle surprise. 'Have you finished supper already?' she asked sweetly. A slight flush rose in his brown cheek, as he felt his shyness increase, but he kept his eyes steadily on her. 'You do not seem to be afraid of me any longer,' he said, by way of answer. 'Have I anything to fear from you?' she asked, in a trusting tone. She risked everything on the question, or thought she did. She won. His face changed and softened, for by appealing to his generosity she had put him at ease. 'No,' he answered. 'You never were in danger from me. Besides,' he added, with something like an effort, 'I have not made up my mind what to do with you.' Zoë sat up straight, resting one hand on the edge of the little table. 'The truth is,' he went on, 'I did not buy you for myself.' Zoë made a quick movement in her seat. Then her tender mouth hardened in a look of contempt. 'So you are only another slave-dealer!' she cried scornfully. But Zeno laughed at the mere idea, and was glad to laugh. It was a relief. 'No,' he said, 'I am not a slave-dealer. I am a Venetian merchant, I believe. I have been a soldier, and I came near being a prebendary!' 'A priest!' Zoë's face showed her disgust. 'No, for I never was in orders,' answered Zeno, growing more sure of himself as she grew more angry. 'But as for you, a friend of mine, a rich gentleman of Venice, has asked me as a favour to send him the most beautiful slave to be had in Constantinople for the large price he named. As a matter of fact----' But here he was interrupted, for Zoë turned from him and buried her face in the leathern cushion. Her body shook a little, and Zeno thought she was crying. She had grown almost used to him, and had begun to feel that she might have some power over him; and she was ashamed to own that he attracted her, though she meant to hate him. But the idea that he had only bought her like a piece of goods, to pass her on to an unknown man far away, was more than she could bear at first. Moreover, though the idea of eating sickened her, she was really weakened by need of food, and she had undergone within twenty-four hours as much as her nature could bear without breaking down in some way. Zeno was distressed, and bent over her, rather awkwardly, anxious to soothe her. She turned her face to him suddenly, without warning, and he saw that her eyes were dry and her cheeks flushed. 'Venice is a beautiful city,' he said coaxingly. 'You will be a great person in my friend's house--he will give you----' 'When are you going to send me? To-morrow?' The girl had mastered herself a little. 'I have told you that I have not made up my mind about you,' Zeno answered. 'The money I gave the Bokharian was my own. I may keep you here after all.' Zoë detested him in that moment. She longed to insult him, to strike him, to drive him away. There was something so condescending in what he said. He would make up his mind about her! He might keep her after all! He had paid his own money for her! It was not possible that she could have thought him handsome, that she could have been even momentarily attracted by his face, his manner, or his voice. 'I hate you!' she cried, shutting her teeth tightly as she spoke. He was near her, and she drew back from him as far as she could against the cushions of the divan. He resumed his seat, for he saw how angry she was. He had purposely spoken as if she were really the slave she told him that she was, and against the natural instinct which bade him treat her as his equal. 'Indeed,' he said coldly, and he took a cracked walnut from the table and began to peel the kernel, 'it is not easy to know what will please you. You seem horrified at the idea of going to Venice and furious at the thought of staying here! Of course, there is a third possibility. I would not send my friend a slave who would be so discontented as to poison him and his family, and I shall certainly not keep one in my house who hates me and may take it into her head to cut my throat in my sleep. The only thing that remains will be to sell you back to the Bokharian at a loss. Should you like that?' Zoë felt again that he was her master. 'You made me think you would be kind to me!' she said, and her voice quavered. Zeno laughed, for he had been too much annoyed to yield at once to her appeal. 'That did not prevent you from saying that you hated me, a while ago,' he answered. 'You must not expect too much Christian virtue of me, for I am no saint. I never learned to love those that hate me!' She liked him better now; as he threw back his head a little, looking at her from under his half-closed lids, she glanced at his brown throat and she did not think of cutting it, as he had suggested. But she was angry with herself for passing through so many phases of like and dislike in so short a time, and for not feeling relief at the thought of being sent on a long journey, which certainly would mean safety while it lasted, and perhaps a chance of freedom. She wondered, too, why she no longer wished to die outright now that she had saved Kyría Agatha. Her answer to his last speech was humble. 'You made me say it,' she said. 'I am sorry, sir.' 'At least, I have learnt that you would rather stay here than go back to Rustan Karaboghazji and that gentle wife of his--his red-haired dove!' 'Anything rather than that!' Her tone was earnest, for it was the fate she feared most, both for herself and because she fancied that the dealer would in some way claim his money from Kyría Agatha. Zeno was apparently satisfied with her answer, for he looked more kindly at her and was silent for a time. Again he allowed his eyes to be delighted with her beauty. 'I will not send you back,' he said at last; and he held out his hand towards her, as if he were giving a promise to an equal. She was grateful, but she thought that perhaps he was trying to make her betray her birth. No slave would take the master's hand familiarly in her own; she knew the ways of slaves, for there had been many in her adopted father's house, and she touched the tips of Zeno's fingers with her own and pressed her lips to the back of her own hand when she withdrew it. The action disconcerted him a little, for it was performed perfectly, with all the deference of born servitude. 'You were not long in Rustan's house, were you?' he asked, not seeming to be much interested in the answer, for he hoped to take her unawares. If she told the truth, which he knew, he would show surprise and press her with another question; if she answered with an untruth he should gain that much knowledge of her character for future use. Quick-witted, she did neither. 'It pleased my lord to remind me a while ago that a slave's oath is never to be believed,' she said. 'It is the law that a slave must be tortured when giving evidence, is it not?' 'I believe it is,' answered Zeno, with a smile. 'But you are quite safe! I only ask you how long you were in Rustan's house.' 'One night and part of a day,' Zoë answered after a moment. Zeno pretended surprise. 'So short a time! Then he only bought you yesterday?' 'Yesterday evening.' 'And of whom? Will you tell me that?' Zoë reflected a moment and then smiled. 'Yes. I will tell you that. He bought me of a lady of Constantinople, in whose closest intimacy I was brought up. She is just of my own age and we are much alike.' 'I see,' said Zeno, completely deceived, and speaking almost to himself. 'Poor girl! The same father, I suppose--hence the----' Zoë drooped her eyes and looked at the carpet. 'Yes--since you have guessed it, sir. We had the same father, though we never knew him. He died of the plague when we were a few months old.' Zeno was perfectly satisfied with this logical explanation which entirely explained Zoë's aristocratic beauty, her nobility of manner, and the delicate rearing that was so apparent in all her ways, as well as the fearlessness which had made her turn upon him and tell him that she hated him. The only point he could not understand, was that Zoë should have smiled. But he thought, as was quite possible, that there might have been jealousy and even hatred between the mistress and her slave-born sister, and he would not enquire too closely yet, since all was so clear to him. Such unnatural doings were not rare in a city half-filled with slaves. Zoë's mistress had probably sold her in a fit of anger, or perhaps deliberately and with a cruel purpose, or even out of avarice, to buy a string of pearls. The girl did not offer to say more, but she looked away from her owner and seemed to be thinking of the past, as indeed she was, though it was so different from that which his imagination was inventing for her. He, on his side, peeled another walnut thoughtfully, and looked at her from time to time, sure that he knew the truth, and wondering what he ought to do, and above all what he really wished to do. He had believed her deeply wronged, and had paid a great sum to redress that wrong, almost without hesitating, because it was his nature to help any one in distress, and because he, who counted neither life nor limb when his cause was good, had never counted such stuff as gold in a like case. But now, it was all clear. She was a slave, in spite of all appearances. She had suffered no injustice; her smile had told him that the change in her life had not been to greater unhappiness. That she should fear to be sent back to Rustan was only natural; she, who had no doubt always lived delicately in the great house where she had been born, must have felt the sordidness and the degradation of the slave-prison, in spite of the special care she had received in consideration of her beauty and value. Very likely, too, she had not much real feeling, in spite of her behaviour; slave women rarely have. What should he do with her? He was passionate rather than material or pleasure-loving; he was consequently an optimist and an idealist where women were concerned, and was full of a vague belief in the romantic side of love. He could no more really love a slave-girl than he could have loved a hired maid, though she might be beautiful beyond comparison, for he was incapable of attaching himself to beauty alone. Only his equal could be his mate, and he never could care long or truly for any creature that was less. At twenty, the youth in him would have boiled up and over for a week, or a month; but he was verging on thirty, his thirty years that had been crammed with the deeds of many a daring man's whole life-time, and his nature had hardened in a nobler mould than his early youth had promised. He would not make a plaything of any woman now; and since he would not, he wondered what he should do with Zoë, now that she was his. In this mood of uncertainty he rose to leave her, more or less resolved not to see her again until he had come to some conclusion as to her future; for in spite of all he still felt himself attracted to her, and the line of her cheek and throat when her face was half-turned away was of exquisite beauty. Standing beside her for a moment, he knew that if ever again in his life he stooped to take a woman for a toy, lovelessly, stupidly, contemptibly, the plaything would be this Arethusa whom he had bought of a scoundrelly Bokharian dealer. 'Good-night,' he said, looking down into her upturned eyes. 'If you need anything, if you want anything, send for Omobono, and you shall have it. Good-night, Arethusa.' It was the first time he had called her by her name, as he knew it. He did not even hold out his hand. She looked up steadily. 'What shall you do with me?' she asked, very anxiously, surprised by his sudden leave-taking. She was so lovely then that he felt a despicable impulse to take her into his arms, just for her loveliness, and close her sad eyes with kisses. Instead, he shook his head and turned away. 'I do not know,' he said, half-aloud. He reached the door. 'I do not know,' he repeated, as if the problem were very hard to solve; and he went out, not turning back to look at her. Thus ended the first hour the slave spent with her master; and when he was gone she felt suddenly exhausted, as if she had fought with her hands; and strangely enough she knew all at once that she was weak from want of food, and that the thought of eating no longer disgusted her. Half-ashamed of herself, she glanced at the door through which Zeno had disappeared, as if she thought he might come back, and listened, as though expecting his footstep. Then, not seeing or hearing anything, she began to eat quickly, and almost ravenously, as if she were doing something to be a little ashamed of, and she hoped that the maids would not come in and see her. She was soon satisfied, for it had been a nervous craving rather than anything else, and every woman who reads these lines knows precisely how Zoë felt, or will know one of these days; for in all that belongs to the instinctive side of life, women are much more alike than men are; whereas, because they are not led, pushed, or dragged through one average course of teaching, as most men are, but are left to think and above all, to guess at truth for themselves, they are much more unlike in their way of looking at things. This also is the reason why many gifted men and a good many really learned ones would rather talk to women than to men; for among men they hear the same things everlastingly, but women always have something new to say, which is flattering, pleasant, amusing, or irritating--perhaps, as they choose. Women have also a sort of mock-humble, wholly appealing way of asking the great man how it is possible that he can really care to talk with a poor, ignorant, little woman, when he might be engaged in a memorable conversation with the other great man, who is talking to the other poor, ignorant little woman with lovely eyes, on the other side of the room. In this way we learn that life is full of contradictions. Zoë slept ten hours without dreaming, and awoke refreshed and rested, to wonder presently why her mood had changed so much. But Zeno was restless in the night, and dissatisfied with himself and with what he had done; when he lay awake he found fault with his impulsive action, but when he fell asleep for half-an-hour Zoë haunted his dreams. More than once he got up and walked barefoot on the marble mosaic pavement of his room, and he threw open the shutters and looked out. The night was calm and clear, and the air was almost wintry. To the left of Pera's towering outline the northern constellations shone bright and cold. Each time he looked he wondered at the slow motion of the Bear; the seven stars hung above the Pole, for it was springtime, and they hardly seemed to have moved a handbreadth to their westward sinking in a whole hour, when he looked again. When morning came his face was a little paler than usual, and he felt that he was in a bad humour. Omobono only guessed it from a certain increase of his natural reserve, but that was enough for the experienced secretary, who was wonderfully careful not to speak unless Zeno spoke to him, and, above all, not to mention the existence of the women's apartment upstairs. On the other hand, although it was a Sunday, he had expected to be sent by his master to draw the money from the house of Cornèr, according to Pesaro's letter, of which he had thoroughly mastered the contents. But the order was not given, and as Zeno was neither forgetful of details nor slack in matters of business, Omobono began to wonder what had happened. On Monday Zeno's mood had not changed, nor did he send for the money, and the secretary's curiosity grew mightily; on Tuesday it became almost unbearable. So far as he knew, and he knew most things that went on in the house, Zeno had only once gone upstairs, when he had supped with Zoë on Saturday evening, and had remained barely an hour. Since then he had not even asked after the slave, and no one had seen her except the two little maids, who came out upon the landing to receive the meals at regular hours, but never spoke to the men-servants. The secretary could have asked to see Zoë, to enquire if she needed anything, and she would certainly have received him; but he was afraid to do so without orders, and Zeno gave none, and might come in at the very moment when Omobono was there. The industrious secretary had fits of abstraction over his letters and accounts, and stared out of the window, stroking his neatly-trimmed grey beard very thoughtfully. On Wednesday, a little before noon, Zoë was sitting in her window, and she again saw Zeno go down the steps to the water and get into his skiff. It was always there now, even at dawn, for since there had been women in the house Zeno had been rowed to another place for his morning plunge in the Golden Horn. To-day he was dressed with particular care, Zoë thought, as she caught sight of him, and she did not draw back from the window, as she had done the first time, but stayed where she was, and she wished in her heart that he would look up and see her. He did not even turn as he stepped into the boat, and she thought he held his head lower than when she had last seen him, and looked down, and raised his shoulders a little like a person determined not to look to the right or the left. Then the two men pulled the skiff away upstream, and she watched it till she could no longer distinguish it from many others that moved about on the water in the direction of the palace. She wondered where he went. He had not been gone ten minutes when a man came to the gate of the fore-court on the other side of the house, and asked to see the secretary. He was simply dressed in a clean brown woollen tunic, that hung almost to the ground. It had wide sleeves, and they hid his joined hands as he stood waiting, in the attitude monks often take before a superior, or when reciting prayers before meals. But the man was not a monk, for he wore a broad belt of dark red leather, in which he carried a sheathed knife, a Syrian ink-horn, and a small cylindrical case of hammered brass, which held his reed pens. On his head he wore a tall felt cap, such as dervishes now wear. The slave at the door looked at him attentively before admitting him. There was something unusual in his expression, though his features were not very marked, and he had the rather pasty complexion that is so common in the East. His eyes were perhaps a little longer and more almond-shaped than those of the average Greek or Bokharian, and he kept them half-closed. His scanty black beard had a few grey hairs in it. His nostrils curved sharply, but the nose was neither very large nor markedly aquiline. A commonplace face enough in Constantinople; but there was something oddly fixed in its expression, that made the slave feel uncomfortable and yet submissive. Many persons of all conditions came to the merchant's house on business during the day, and it was the rule to send them to Omobono. The slave's business was to keep out thieves, beggars, and suspicious characters; he stood aside, admitted the visitor to the court which separated the house from the street, and shut the gate again. One of the free house-servants, of whom two or three were always waiting, came forward--a square-shouldered Venetian named Vito, who had been a sailor and had followed Zeno for years. He enquired the stranger's name and business. 'I am Gorlias Pietrogliant,' was the answer. 'My business with the secretary is private.' The serving-man disappeared, and returned a moment later to conduct the visitor to the private room of the counting-house on the ground floor, where Omobono sat behind a high desk covered with papers and slips of parchment. Omobono straightened himself on his stool and eyed the newcomer with a look of enquiry, at the same time drawing from his right arm the half sleeve of grey cotton which he always put on when he was going to write long, lest a spot of ink should stain the soft linen wrist-band which just showed below the tight cuff of his coat. He was a careful man. He looked at his visitor keenly, till he suddenly became aware that his scrutiny was returned with a rather disquieting fixedness. 'I am Gorlias Pietrogliant,' said the stranger. Omobono bent his head politely, and wondered whether he should be able to repeat such an outlandish name. 'I am Messer Zeno's secretary,' he answered. 'What is your business, Master Porlias Dietroplant?' 'Gorlias,' corrected the other, quite unmoved. Gorlias Pietrogliant.' 'Master Gorlias--I beg your pardon.' 'I am an astrologer,' observed the visitor, seating himself on a high stool at Omobono's elbow, and relapsing into silence. 'You are an astrologer,' said the secretary tentatively, after a long pause, for he did not know what to say. 'Yes, I told you so,' replied Gorlias; and for a few seconds longer it did not seem to occur to him that there was anything else to be said. There was something so oddly fixed in his look and so dull in his voice that Omobono began to fear that he might be a lunatic, which was indeed, in the secretary's opinion, much the same as an astrologer, for the Venetians were never great believers in the influence of the stars. But the visitor soon made him forget his suspicions by reviving his curiosity. 'The matter which brings me to you is of a very delicate nature,' said Gorlias, all at once speaking fluently and in a low voice. 'I have reason to believe that we are interested in the same business.' 'Are we?' asked the secretary in some surprise. 'I think we are. I think we are, by four toes and by five toes!' 'Over the water,' answered Omobono promptly, and hoping to learn more. 'Both salt and fresh,' returned Gorlias. 'By these tokens I shall trust to your fidelity and discretion.' [Illustration: There was something so oddly fixed in his look and so dull in his voice that Omobono began to fear that he might be a lunatic.] 'Implicitly,' replied the Venetian, who was sure of being discreet, but wondered what the matter might be to which his fidelity was pledged beforehand. He inwardly hoped that his visitor was not going to ask him for money, for he suspected that some awful fate must be in store for those who refused a service when appealed to by the mysterious passwords, of which he had now learnt one more. 'Messer Carlo is gone out,' said Gorlias. 'By this time he is in the house of Messer Sebastian Polo, who wishes to marry him to his daughter. He will not come home till after dinner.' Omobono stared at the speaker. 'You know more than I do,' he observed. 'Of course. I am an astrologer. You are in charge of the house and all it contains, and the servants and slaves are afraid of you because you have the master's ear, but they love you because you are kind to them. Therefore, whatever you do is right in their eyes. Upstairs there are three female slaves; one is Arethusa, the other two are called Yulia and Lucilla, and wait on her. You see, I know everything. Now, for the sake of that business in which we are both interested, you must take me up to their apartment, for I must speak with the one called Arethusa.' Omobono wished that Gorlias had asked him for his coat, or his money, or anything that was his, rather than for such a favour; and he was about to risk refusing it, whatever the penalty might be, when a luminous idea revealed itself to him. 'There is only one condition,' he answered, after a moment's thought. 'I must be present while you talk with her.' 'That need not disturb you,' said Gorlias calmly. 'I have seen the room where she is by virtue of my knowledge of the stars. It has a small covered balcony with an outer lattice against the sun, on the south side. There I will talk with Arethusa, while you stand by the door and watch us. I will draw figures, and appear to explain them to her, so that the two girl-slaves may think that I have come to amuse her by setting up her horoscope. Even Messer Carlo could not object to that, and Arethusa can veil herself, so that I shall not be able to see her face.' Omobono reflected a moment, but could now see no good reason for refusing the request, whereas he saw a prospect of learning something more about the mystery that interested him. Zoë herself had prompted him with the second password of the chain, in Rustan's house, and he was almost sure that in some way she knew the rest, and the meaning of them all. The two went up the marble stairs to the second story, and Omobono tapped at the entrance to the women's apartment. There came a little pattering of slippered feet, and Lucilla opened the door just enough to put her head out, for it was not yet time for the mid-day meal, and she wondered what was wanted. 'Bid your mistress veil herself, my child,' said Omobono. 'Here is a famous astrologer come to tell her the future, which will help her to pass the time.' Lucilla glanced at Gorlias with curiosity and smiled, showing all her teeth. 'Indeed it is very dull here,' she observed, and disappeared, shutting the door behind her. While the two men waited Gorlias produced from the folds of his wide tunic a big roll of parchment, which he unrolled a foot or two, displaying a multitude of incomprehensible signs and figures; he also took out a large brass compass, a sheet of cotton paper from Padua, also rolled up, and an Arabic almanack with a silver clasp. Omobono surveyed these preparations with mingled curiosity and sceptical amusement, till Lucilla opened the door again and ushered both men into Zoë's presence. The astrologer made cabalistic signs with his right hand while he advanced, as if he were drawing imaginary figures in the air with his extended forefinger. Zoë's face was quite concealed in the double folds of a white gauze veil, but she seemed to watch him attentively as he came towards her. CHAPTER VIII Zoë and the astrologer sat in the covered balcony in full view of the secretary, who remained near the door, straining his sharp ears in vain to catch some words of the whispered conversation. The maids had been dismissed. From time to time Gorlias spoke aloud, pointing with his compass to different parts of the figure, but what he said only made it more impossible to guess at what he whispered. Zoë sat almost motionless, but she had opened the folds of her veil so as to uncover her mouth, and after her companion had been speaking some time she bent down and answered in his ear, pretending, however, to point to the figures on the paper, as if she were asking questions. The substance of what Gorlias told her was that he and his friends were interested in a mighty enterprise, and had often tried to sound Carlo Zeno with regard to helping them to carry it out, but they had met with no success, for he either did not understand, or he would not. Messer Sebastian Polo, whose house he frequented, was a timid man, and was not to be trusted with such a secret; moreover, he was so extremely anxious to make Zeno marry his daughter, that he would certainly never allow him to run any risks. All this he put very clearly, and Omobono might have been surprised to learn that he had not used any password. Then Zoë bent down to his ear. 'What is the name of Sebastian Polo's daughter?' she asked. 'Giustina,' whispered the astrologer. 'The sun near to mid-heaven,' he continued aloud, 'and in trine aspect to Mars, signifies fine horses and a retinue of servants.' He dropped his voice again. 'She is thirty, and has had the smallpox,' he whispered. 'The master has only been here once since I came,' said Zoë, bending to his ear again. 'I have no influence with him.' Gorlias turned his face towards her in slow surprise. 'Had he not seen you before he bought you, Kokóna Arethusa?' he enquired. 'Yes, indeed!' 'Oh! I thought that you also might have had the smallpox,' was the whispered answer. Zoë could not help laughing a little. The pretty notes, muffled by the veil, seemed to come from far away. It was the first time she had laughed naturally since many weeks. The astrologer bent nearer to her when she was silent again, and spoke aloud, pointing to his figure. 'Venus is in the Seventh House in benign aspect to the Moon,' he said aloud. 'You will be fortunate in love.' Then he whispered again, 'I will give you a philtre that has never failed. The next time he comes----' Zoë shook her head decidedly, with something that looked like indignation. 'It is for a good matter, Kokóna,' Gorlias answered. 'If you will help us, you shall have pearls and diamonds, and gold and liberty.' 'Liberty? How?' Gorlias thought that he had tempted her with that, at least. 'If you will promise your help with Messer Carlo, I will tell you.' 'How can I promise what is not mine to give?' asked the girl. The astrologer was not discouraged, and after more talk about the planets, in a tone loud enough to be heard by the maids if they were listening at the door, he went on quickly again. 'Messer Carlo is a man who loves adventures, who has led desperate and forlorn hope to victory, both in Italy and Greece, who has the gift of the leader, if ever a man had it. Surely, you knew all this.' 'I know he has been a soldier,' Zoë answered, for Zeno had told her so. 'He also possesses some fortune, and has great connexions in Venice. Moreover, I can tell you, Kokóna, that this is no small matter. If he succeeds, he will earn gratitude of the Serene Republic and honour everywhere.' 'As much as that?' asked Zoë, looking attentively at the astrologer through her veil. 'How am I to believe you?' 'I thought I had spoken clearly enough,' Gorlias answered, 'but lest you should doubt my word and promise, take these.' He had furtively slipped his hand into the bosom of his tunic, and when he withdrew it his fingers closed over something he held gathered in his palm. Cleverly turning the sheet of paper on which he had shown his astrological figures, so as to hinder Omobono from seeing, he disclosed to Zoë a short string of very large and beautiful pearls. 'In your nativity,' he rattled on, aloud, 'the beneficent influences altogether outweigh the malefic ones.' He said much more to the same effect, and while he was speaking he let the pearls slip down upon the skirts of Zoë's over-garment on the side away from the secretary. 'They are yours,' he whispered. 'You shall have a hundred strings like them if you succeed.' 'Give such things to my maids,' Zoë answered, 'not to me! If you are in earnest make a sign, that I may know whence you come.' 'A sign?' repeated Gorlias, as if not understanding. 'Yes, where?' Her mouth was close to his ear as she whispered the question, and she turned her ear towards him for the answer. He hesitated, and for the first time the dull fixedness of his expression was momentarily dispelled by a very faint look of surprise. 'I ask, where?' Zoë repeated, with strong emphasis, bending to him again. 'Over the water,' he answered at last. 'Both salt and fresh,' she replied instantly. Gorlias looked at her veiled face long. 'Who are you?' he asked at length. 'Who taught you these things?' He glanced suspiciously at Omobono, who, as he had reason to believe, was acquainted with the secret. Zoë shook her head. 'No,' she answered. 'One greater than he taught me what I know. You may go now, for your message is delivered. What I can do, I will do, and there is no more to say, for it is my own cause as well as his--the cause of justice, and God is with it.' Gorlias spoke aloud again, and brought his explanation of the horoscope to a conclusion by informing Zoë that if she wished to know the smaller details of her wonderful future, she must consult him at intervals, as the phases of the moon had a great influence on her fate. 'When the Kokóna wishes to see me,' he said, rising, 'Messer Omobono will send for me, and I will come.' Before Zoë realised that he had not picked up the string of pearls, he had made his obeisance and was at the door with Omobono, who bowed low to her, and ushered him out. When she was alone she took the necklace from the folds of her dress, where it had lain, and looked at it a moment before she hid it in her bosom. For she would not allow the maids to see it, and was already debating how she should hide it till she could find an opportunity of giving it back. But when the cold pearls touched her flesh they sent a little chill to her heart, and she thought it was somehow like a warning. She understood well enough what had happened, for she was quick-witted. Rustan, who had shown that he knew the secret, and his wife, who had spoken to him of Gorlias, had told the latter that Carlo Zeno was in love with a beautiful Greek slave, who could, of course, be easily induced by gifts to use her influence with her master. For Zeno's past deeds had already woven a sort of legend about his name, so that even the soldiers talked of him among themselves, and told stories of the desperate bravery and amazing skill with which he had kept a small Turkish army at bay in Greece with a handful of men for nearly a whole year, and many other tales, of which the most fantastic was less strange than much that afterwards happened to him in his life. It must have seemed easy enough to the astrologer, and even to Omobono perhaps; but it looked strangely impossible to Zoë herself, when she remembered her only interview with the man whom she was now pledged to win over. The whole situation was known to her. A conspiracy was on foot to take the Emperor Johannes from his prison and restore him to the throne, imprisoning his son Andronicus in the Amena tower in his stead. Thousands of John's loyal subjects recognised each other by passwords, and talked secretly of a great rising, in which some foresaw vengeance for the wrongs they had suffered, while others, like the Bokharian Rustan, hoped for fortune, reward, and perhaps honour. But the body of the army was not with them yet, the disaffected men lacked skill or courage to preach the cause of the lawful Emperor to their comrades, and the revolution had no guiding spirit. It is far easier to choose a general among soldiers than to pick out a leader of revolt amongst untried and untrained men. Before he lost his liberty the Emperor had known Zeno, and though a weak man, had judged him rightly. In his prison he possessed means of communicating occasionally with his friends, and he had instructed them to ask Zeno's help; but so far his message had either not been delivered or Zeno had been deaf to the appeal, perhaps judging that the time was not come for the attempt, or that, after all, the cause was not a good one. Having failed to move him in all other ways, the revolutionaries had seized the unexpected opportunity that now presented itself. The thought that such a man might turn the tide of history, restore the rightful sovereign to the throne, and avenge the awful death of Michael Rhangabé, had crossed Zoë's mind when she had first seen her purchaser in Rustan's house, for the born leader and fighting man generally has something in his face that is not to be mistaken; but to influence Carlo was another matter, as she had understood when he had supped with her. It would be as hard to induce him to do anything he was not inclined to do of his own accord as it would be impossible to hinder him from attempting whatever he chose to try. As for winning him to the cause by gentler means, the high-born girl blushed at the suggestion. He was certainly not in love with her at first sight; of that she was as sure as that she did not love him either. Yet while she was thinking, she suddenly wondered whether Gorlias had spoken the truth about Giustina Polo. Was she really thirty, and was her face pitted like a cheese-grater, as Gorlias had told her? If she was ugly, why did Zeno go to Polo's house so often? For Zoë had no doubt but that he went there every time he was rowed up the Golden Horn in his pretty skiff. He was always carefully dressed when he stepped into his boat; it was not for old Polo that he wore such fine clothes. She was very lonely now. During the first two days she had rested herself in her luxurious surroundings, not without the excitement of expecting another visit from Zeno, and she had thought with satisfaction of all the comfort her sacrifice must have brought to her adopted mother, to the little boys, and to poor old Nectaria. But now she wished she could at least be sure that all was well with them, though she was rather sadly conscious that she did not miss them as she had thought she must. During many months she had nursed Kyría Agatha most tenderly, and had helped the old slave to take care of the children; the last weeks had been spent in abject misery, the last days in the final struggle with starvation and sickness, and still she had bravely done her best. Yet she had long felt that Kyría Agatha had not much real affection for her, and would let her starve herself to death to feed her and the boys. It would have been otherwise if Rhangabé had lived; she would have willingly died of hunger for him, but he was gone, and though she had done and borne the impossible, it had not been for her own blood, but for the sake of the good and brave man's memory. He was in peace, after the agony of his death, his wife and his sons were provided for, so far as Zoë could provide by giving her freedom and her life for them. As far as she could she had paid her debt of gratitude to the dead, and the debt that was not wiped out was due to her; those who had murdered Rhangabé owed her his unspeakable sufferings and every precious drop of his heart's blood. They should pay. If she lived, they should pay all to the uttermost. And now, fate had placed within her reach the instrument of vengeance, the bravest, rashest, wisest, most desperate of mankind. Her heart had silently and joyfully drunk in every word that Gorlias had said about the man who owned her as he owned the carpet under her feet, the roof over her head, and the clothes that covered her. He was within her reach, but he was not within her power. Not yet. Her mood had changed, and for a while, not knowing what she dreamt of, she wished that she were indeed one of those Eastern enchantresses of whom she had often heard, without half understanding, who roused men to frenzy, or lulled their lovers to sleep and ruin, as they would; she wished she were that wicked Antonina, for whom brave, pure-hearted Belisarius had humbled himself in the dust; she wished she were Theodora, shamelessly great and fair, an imperial Vision of Sin, compelling to her heel the church-going, priest-haunted master of half the known world--Justinian. She knew the story of her adopted country. What had either of those women that she had not, wherewith to master a man? Then the tide of shame came back, and she turned her face away from the empty room, as if it had guessed her thoughts; and then, to get away from them, she called her maids, clapping her hands sharply. They came running in and stood before her. 'Go, Yulia,' she said, 'find the secretary and beg him to come to me.' While she waited, she made Lucilla arrange her veil again so that it hid her face, and this was scarcely done when Omobono was ushered in by the other girl. He bowed to Zoë and gravely stroked his pointed beard. 'What is the Kokóna's pleasure?' he asked, after a pause. 'Do you speak Latin?' Zoë enquired, in that language. The little man drew himself up proudly, and cleared his throat. 'In my family we have been notaries for five generations,' he answered, in language that was comprehensible but would have filled an average Churchman with vague uneasiness, and would have made Cicero's ashes rattle in their urn. Zoë was satisfied, however, for though her maids might understand Italian, she was quite sure that Latin was beyond them. She herself spoke it far more correctly than Omobono, though with a rather lisping Greek accent. She could not have helped saying 'vonus' for 'bonus,' 'eyo' for 'ego,' and 'Thominus' for 'Dominus.' 'Where is Thominus Carolus?' she enquired, so suddenly that the secretary was almost taken off his guard. 'He is--he is gone out,' he answered. 'Yes. He is gone to dine with Messer Sebastian Polo. He goes there two or three times a week.' Zoë watched the secretary's face with amusement; his surprise was comical. 'Then the man is really an astrologer,' he said, in a wondering tone, 'and star-gazing is not all nonsense!' 'Sebastian Polo's daughter is young and beautiful,' observed Zoë, who apparently did not place implicit faith in astrology. Omobono's face and gesture expressed a qualified assent, but he said nothing. 'Tell me at once,' said Zoë, 'that she is thirty, that her complexion resembles the dust when it is pitted by raindrops after a shower----' 'That would not be true,' cried the secretary. 'Giustina Polo is not supremely beautiful, but she is young and pretty, and as fresh as roses.' 'But she is very poor,' suggested Zoë. 'She has no dowry.' 'Who says so?' asked Omobono indignantly. 'The house of Sebastian Polo is as prosperous as any in Constantinople! He is as rich as any Venetian here except, perhaps, Marin Cornèr!' 'Then it is true that the master is going to marry his daughter,' Zoë replied, as if stating a fact that could no longer be denied. She was rapidly working the secretary into a state of excitement in which his Latin grammar went to the winds. 'No, indeed!' he cried. 'It is altogether a lie! Who has told you such things?' 'She is young, pretty, fresh as roses, and very rich,' said Zoë, recapitulating. 'Did you not say so?' 'Yes----' 'And the master goes to dine in her father's house three times a week----' 'Perhaps----' 'Do you suppose that Polo would invite the master so often unless he wanted him for his daughter?' 'Perhaps not----' 'Or that the master would wilfully deceive Polo and the girl?' 'What are you saying?' 'Simply that Thominus Carolus is going to marry Thomna Justina.' 'But I tell you----' 'Either you are very simple, or you think I am,' interrupted Zoë, with crushing logic. 'Which shall it be, Master Secretary?' Omobono thought her a terrible young person just then. He spread out his hands and looked up to the ceiling in despair, but still protesting. 'And meanwhile,' she continued, 'what is the master going to do with me? Am I to be locked up here for ever?' If anything could further disturb Omobono's equanimity it was this question. His gentle temper was beginning to be ruffled. 'How can I tell?' he asked. 'He will do what he thinks best! Ask him yourself!' After all, she was only a slave, he said in his heart, and he was the descendant of five generations of notaries. What right had she to cross-examine him? He was the more angry with her for asking the question, because his own curiosity had tormented him for days to find an answer to it. 'Omobono,' Zoë said, affecting a very grave tone, 'you know very well what the master means to do. Now I ask you solemnly, and you are warned that you must answer me--by four----' 'No, no!' cried the secretary, in sudden distress. 'Do not ask me by that!' 'I must, Omobono; and of course you have been told what you have to expect if you refuse to help a friend over the water.' She emphasised the last words in a way that made him tremble. 'Yes, yes--I know----' he said feebly, though he had not the least notion of the penalty. 'You will be broken to pieces by inches with a small hammer, beginning at the tips of your fingers till there is not a whole bone in your body. That is only the beginning.' Omobono's knees knocked together. 'Then your skin will be turned inside out over your head and your living heart will be cut out of your body, Omobono, and you will die.' The secretary had already such belief in the power of those who knew the magic words that he turned pale and the cold sweat stood on his forehead. 'If all this were to be done to me now,' he faltered, 'I could not tell you what the master intends!' She saw that it was the truth. 'Very well,' she said; 'then you must manage that he shall come here to-day as soon as he returns from Polo's house.' 'I will tell him that you have asked to see him----' 'No. Tell him that I shall fall ill if I am shut up in these rooms any longer, and that if he does not believe it, he had better come and see how I am. He will probably take your advice. I do not choose to show you my face, but I assure you I am very pale, and I have no appetite.' 'He will come,' said the secretary confidently. 'You can also do me another service, Omobono,' continued Zoë. 'I have learned that last Friday, when you went to find Rustan about buying me, you came upon him in the beggars' quarter, near the church of Saint Sergius and Saint Bacchus, at a house where some very poor people lived. This is true, is it not?' Omobono nodded, wondering how she knew of the circumstance. 'A poor woman lay there ill, with children and a very old nurse, and Rustan gave them something. I wish to know how these poor people are, and where they live, if they have left that house. I am sure the master is charitable, and will let you give them something if they are still in need. There were two little boys, and there was a grown girl besides the sick woman and the other.' 'You know everything!' cried Omobono. 'The man must be a great astrologer! I will go myself to the beggars' quarter and do your bidding.' Zoë had played her little comedy because she had by this time guessed the man's character, and wished to make sure that she could rely on his help in anything she decided to do; for it was clear that whenever Zeno was absent, the secretary was in charge of the whole establishment, and the servants would obey him without hesitation. As Gorlias had told him, whatever he did was right in their eyes. That he was in haste to do her bidding she discovered before the afternoon was half over, for as she sat in her window she saw him go down to wait for his master at the marble steps, and he walked slowly on the strip of black and white pavement by the water's edge. At last he stood still, and looked towards Blachernæ, for the skiff was in sight. Zoë drew her veil across her face and rested her head against the right-hand side of the open window as if she were very tired, and she did not move from this position as the boat came near. Zeno was leaning back in the stern, and could not help seeing her as he approached the house, but from her attitude he thought she did not see him, and he looked up at her steadily for two or three seconds. She was quite motionless. Omobono stood by the water's edge as Zeno stepped ashore, and asked permission to say a few words to him at once. Zeno dismissed the boat by a gesture. 'Has anything happened?' he asked, glancing up at the window again. Zoë had not moved, but she could see him through her veil. Then the two men walked up and down, while Omobono spoke in a low tone, but though she could not hear the words she knew what the substance was. Then came Zeno's voice, cold and clear. 'Certainly not,' he said decidedly. 'I shall do nothing of the sort! If she has no appetite send for a doctor. Do you take me for one? Send for old Solomon the Jewish physician. He is the best, and he is an old man. If he says the girl needs air, take her out in the boat, her and the maids, on fine mornings.' A question from Omobono followed, which Zoë could not hear distinctly. Zeno was evidently annoyed. 'Omobono, you are a good man,' he said; 'but you have no more sense than a cackling hen! Never think! It is not your strong point. When you do just what I tell you, you never make a mistake.' The secretary's voice was heard again, low and indistinct. 'No,' answered Zeno. 'You need not go and tell her what I have said, for she has probably heard every word of it herself, from the window. It is useless ever to tell women anything. They always know before they are told.' Thereupon Zeno went in, apparently in a bad temper. If anything can make a woman angry when she is overhearing a conversation about herself, it is to hear it said that she is undoubtedly listening. Zoë had not hidden herself, and Zeno must have meant her to hear what he was saying, but she felt the more deeply insulted. Her cheek burned, and she drew back her veil to feel the cool air. So he had no intention of coming to see her again! A Jewish doctor and an airing in the boat, with Omobono for company! And she had been told that she had been listening--it was not to be borne! She threw her veil on one side, her silk shawl on the other, and then walked up and down the long room with restless steps, like a young wild animal in a cage. The little maids picked up the things and watched her uneasily, for she had always seemed very gentle. They looked at her with wide eyes now, and their gaze irritated her, till she felt that she wanted to box their ears, and wished she had the negress's whip in her belt. Then, without any apparent reason, she threw her arms round the one that stood nearest and kissed the astonished girl a dozen times, almost lifting her from the floor. As she let her go, she laughed nervously at herself. She was thirsty, and she drank off a tall glass of cold water at a draught; and all the time she was unconsciously repeating one phrase to herself. 'He shall pay me for this, he shall pay me for this!' The words rang in her ears, to a sort of silly tune that would not go away. There is a vile natural hurdy-gurdy somewhere in our brains, and when we are angry, or in love, or broken-hearted, or otherwise beside ourselves, it plays its absurd little tunes at us till we are ready to go mad. I sometimes think that devil's music may have brought on the final fatal irritation against life, that has decided the fate of many half-mad suicides. 'He shall pay me for this!' She heard the words keeping time with her movements; she walked slower--faster, but it made no difference, for the infernal little notes took the beat from her steps. She had not the least notion how Zeno was to pay for having made her so very angry, and that question did not obtrude itself on her thoughts till her temper was beginning to subside; then she suddenly felt how utterly helpless she was, and her wrath boiled up again. The only way of paying him out that suggested itself was to throw herself out of the window. Then he would be sorry for what he had done. Would he? He would probably send Omobono to have her corpse taken away as quickly as possible. And the day after to-morrow he would go again to see Giustina Polo in her father's house, and she would have thrown herself out of the window for nothing. Besides, it would be wicked. She realised how childish her thoughts were, and she sat down to think--'like a grown-up woman,' she said to herself. But just then she remembered Zeno's words to Omobono. 'Never think, for it is not your strong point,' he had said to his secretary; but he had of course meant it for her. Everything had been meant for her. She wished she could hold his brown throat in her hands and dig her little nails into it. Appetite, indeed! Was it strange that she should not be hungry? How could any one eat who lived such a life, shut up between four walls?--with a tyrant downstairs who did not even take the trouble to come and look at her, but sent his silly old clerk to keep her company! He took trouble enough to go and see Giustina Polo! This was thinking 'like a grown-up woman,' as she had proposed to do! She was disgusted with herself, and looked about for something to occupy her thoughts. There were sweetmeats, whole boxes of sweetmeats of every sort. Twice already they had been emptied and refilled with fresh ones, since she had been brought to the house. That was Zeno's idea of what a woman needed to occupy her thoughts and be happy! Sweetmeats! Preserve of rose-leaves! Figs in syrup! That was all he knew of her wants! She lay back among her cushions, her brown eyes gleamed angrily, her lips were a little parted, and her nostrils quivered now and then as she drew a sharp breath. Presently, she called Yulia to her side. 'Go to the secretary,' she said, 'and tell him to send me a book.' 'A book?' repeated the slave stupidly, for she had never seen a woman who could read. 'Yes. A book in Greek, Latin, or Italian; it does not matter which. I am sick of doing nothing. Tell him to be quick, too,' she added, in a tone of authority. The girl tripped away and found Omobono in the counting-house on the ground floor. He was in a bad humour too, but in his case it took the form of dignified sorrow. His master had compared him to a fowl, and to one that cackled. 'What does she want with a book?' he asked, in a dreary tone, looking up from his accounts. 'To read, I think, sir,' answered the little maid timidly; 'and she told me to beg you to let her have it soon.' 'As if a slave could read!' He looked about him in a melancholy way, and rose to take from the shelf above his head a good-sized volume bound in soft brown leather, with little thongs tied in slip knots, for clasps, to keep it shut. 'Take her that,' he said, thrusting the book into the girl's hands. Yulia took it, and before she had left the room Omobono was gravely busy with his figures again; but each time he added up a column the sum seemed to be 'cackling hen,' instead of anything reasonable. But Yulia ran upstairs. Zoë untied the thongs and opened the book in the middle. An exclamation of anger and disgust escaped her lips. The secretary, who did not believe she could really read, though she spoke Latin fluently, had sent an old volume of accounts in answer to her request. There were pages and pages of entries and columns of figures, all neatly written in his small, clear hand, on stout cotton paper. Here and there some one else had made a note, as if checking his work. Zoë pushed the book away from her on the divan, and it fell over the edge and lay face downwards and open on the floor. Then the little tune began again in her head. 'He shall pay me for this!' She wished he would open the door noiselessly and be all at once beside her, as on that first evening. That had been Friday, and to-day was Wednesday; five days had gone by. Counting Friday there were six, and six days were practically a week! She had been under his roof a whole week and he had only cared to see her face once. 'He shall pay me for this!' The tune went on, and she quite forgot how she had longed for death, and how his first anticipated coming had been dreadful beyond anything she had ever suffered, beyond cold, starvation, and misery. Or if she remembered it at all, she told herself that the man she had seen was not the kind of man she had expected, and that she had nothing to fear from him. She was quite sure of that. She turned on one side, as she half lay on the divan, till she could reach the account-book to pick it up. One of the maids jumped up from the carpet to help her. 'Go away!' she exclaimed crossly, for she had got hold of the cover and had drawn the volume over the edge of the divan. 'I will call if I want anything.' The girls slipped away in silence and left her alone. She turned over the pages with a sort of angry curiosity, half expecting to find an entry concerning slaves bought and sold like herself. Just then she could have believed Zeno capable of anything. But though she found a great many strange words which she did not understand, and which referred to tonnage, insurance, profit and loss, and all the complicated matters of an Eastern merchant's business, there was nothing which could possibly be interpreted to mean that Zeno had dealt in humanity, as most of the Venetians who lived in Constantinople certainly did. Sebastian Polo's name occurred very often. Large sums had been paid to him, and other large sums had been received from him. It was clear that the two men were in close relations of business, and constantly made ventures together, dividing the profits and sharing the losses. That might account for Zeno's constant visits to his fellow-merchant, though Zoë was not inclined to admit such a view. On the contrary, she made herself believe that Zeno dealt with Polo solely in order to make an excuse for seeing more of the latter's daughter. He should pay for that, too! The little tune hammered away in her head at a great rate. She clapped her hands. 'Take this back to the secretary,' she said, giving the book to Yulia. 'Tell him I am not a merchant's clerk, and that I want something to read.' Again little Yulia tripped downstairs to the ground floor. But the counting-house was locked, and the men-servants told her that Omobono had gone out. She would not leave the book with them, for she had a superstitiously exaggerated idea of the value of all written things; therefore, after a moment's hesitation, she turned and carried it upstairs again, though she did not like the idea of facing her mistress. At the first landing she almost ran against the master of the house, who asked her what she was carrying and where she was going. He spoke rather sharply, and Yulia was frightened and told him the whole story, explaining that Zoë seemed to be in a bad temper, and would be angry with her for bringing back the account-book, but that it was Omobono's fault. How could he dare to suppose that the Kokóna could not read? And why was he out? And if he was not out why had the men-servants told her that he was? The little slave did as all slaves and servants naturally do when they wish to gain favour with the master; she hinted that all the other servants in the house were in league to do evil, and that she only was righteous. Zeno carelessly looked through the pages of the account-book as he stood listening to her tale. 'You talk too much,' he observed, when she paused. 'Go upstairs.' Thereupon he turned his back on her and went in under the heavy curtain to his own room, taking the book with him and leaving Yulia considerably disconcerted. She looked at the curtain disconsolately for a few seconds, and then slowly ascended the second flight of steps to the women's apartments. A few minutes later Zeno himself followed her, with another book in his hand. He knocked discreetly at the outer door, and Lucilla opened, for Yulia was still explaining to Zoë what had happened. The maid stood aside to let the master pass through the vestibule which separated the inner rooms from the staircase. Zeno raised the curtain and went in. 'I am no great reader,' he said, as he came forward towards the divan, 'but I have brought you this old book. It may amuse you. The man died more than fifty years ago, and I fancy he was mad; but there must be something in his poem, for it has been copied again and again. This was given me by the Emperor Charles when I was with him in Venice.' Zoë had time to recover from her surprise and to study his face and manner while he spoke, and again she was convinced that he was a little shy in her presence. If she changed colour at all he did not see it, for though he glanced at her two or three times, he looked more often at the book he held. As he finished speaking he placed it in her hands and his eyes met hers. Possibly Zoë had guessed that if she could make a stir in the house by sending messages to Omobono, the master would at last come in person; at all events she felt a little thrill of triumph when he was before her bringing his book and speaking pleasantly, as a sort of peace-offering for having neglected her so long. 'Thank you,' said she, very sweetly. 'Will it please your lordship to be seated?' Yulia had pushed forward a large fold-stool, and Zoë motioned to her and her companion to sit down in a corner. Zeno thought she had sent them out of the room, and he looked round and saw them squatting on their carpet, side by side. 'Shall I send them away?' asked Zoë, with a sweet smile. 'They are not in the way,' Zeno answered coldly; for he felt that they might be if they understood, but nothing would have induced him to dismiss them just then. A little pause followed, during which Zoë opened the manuscript and read the illuminated title-page. 'It is dull for you, here,' said Carlo awkwardly. Zoë did not even look up, and affected to answer absently, while she turned over the pages. 'Oh no!' she said. 'Not in the least, I assure you!' She went back to the title and read it aloud. '"The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri"--I have heard his name. A Sicilian, was he not? Or a Lombard? I cannot remember. Have you read the poetry? The paintings are very pretty, I see. There is much more life in Italian painting than in our stiff pictures with their gilt backgrounds. Of course, there is a certain childlike simplicity about them, an absence of school, of the traditions of good masters, of reverence for the old art! But they mean something that is, whereas our Greek pictures mean something that never was. Do you agree with me?' She had talked on in a careless tone, toying with the book, and only looking up as she asked a question without waiting for a reply. By the time she paused she had asked so many that Zeno only noticed the last. 'You would like Venice,' he said, 'but you would like Florence better. There are good pictures there, I believe.' 'You have not seen them yourself?' 'Oh yes! But I do not understand such things. This man Alighieri describes some of them in his book. He was a Florentine.' As Zeno showed himself more willing to talk, Zoë seemed to grow more indifferent. She laid the book down beside her, leaned back, and looked out of the window, turning her face half away from him. It was the first time he had seen her by daylight since she had come, and the strong afternoon light glowed in her white skin, her eyes, and her brown hair. He could have seen on her cheek the very smallest imperfection, had it been as tiny as the point of a pin, but there was none. He looked at her tender mouth; and in the strong glare he could have detected the least roughness on her lips, if they had not been as smooth as fresh fruit. Moreover, the line from her ear to her neck was really as perfect as it had seemed at first sight. Her nervous, high-bred young hand lay on the folds of her over-garment, within his reach, and he felt much inclined to take it and hold it. He did not remember that any woman's near presence had disturbed him in the same way, nor had he ever hesitated on the few occasions in his life when he had been inclined to take a woman's hand. He had the fullest rights which the laws of the Empire could give him, for Arethusa, as he called her, was his property out-and-out, and if he died suddenly she would be sold at auction with the furniture. Yet, for some wholly inexplicable reason he did not quite dare to touch the tips of her fingers. 'I have heard that you are a hero,' Zoë observed, without looking at him. 'Is it true?' Then she turned her eyes to him and smiled a little maliciously, he fancied, as if she had guessed his timidity from his silence. 'Who told you such nonsense?' Zeno asked, with a laugh, for her question had broken the ice--or perhaps had quenched the fire for a while. 'I am a man like any other!' 'That I doubt, sir,' answered Zoë, laughing too, though not much. 'You have no experience of men,' he said. 'They are all like me, I assure you. One sheep is not more like another in a flock.' 'I should not have taken you for one of the common herd. Besides, I know of your deeds in Italy and Greece, and how you fought a Turkish army for a whole year with a handful of men----' 'I have seen some fighting, of course,' Zeno replied. 'But that is all in the past. I am a sober, peace-loving Venetian merchant now, and nothing else.' 'It must be very dull to be a sober, peace-loving Venetian merchant,' said Zoë, faintly mimicking his tone. 'Making money is too hard work to be dull.' 'I suppose so. And then,' she added, with magnificent calm, 'I have always heard that avarice is the passion of old age.' Zeno fell into the trap. 'Dear me!' he cried in astonishment. 'How old do you think I am?' Zoë looked at him quietly. 'I have no experience of men,' she said, with perfect gravity, 'but from your manner, sir, I should judge you to be--about fifty.' Zeno's jaw dropped, for she spoke so naturally and quietly that he could not believe she was laughing at him. 'I shall be twenty-nine in August,' he answered. 'Only twenty-nine?' Zoë affected great surprise. 'I should have thought you were much, much older! Are you quite sure?' 'Yes.' Carlo laughed. 'I am quite sure. But I suppose I seem very old to you.' 'Oh yes! Very!' She nodded gravely as she spoke. 'You are seventeen, are you not?' Zeno asked. 'How in the world should I know!' she enquired. 'Is not my age set down in the receipt Rustan gave you with me? How should a slave know her own age, sir? And if we knew it, do you think that any of us could speak the truth, except under torture? It would not be worth while to dislocate my arms and burn my feet with hot irons, just to know how old I am, would it? You could not even sell me again, if I had once been tortured!' 'What horrible ideas you have! Imagine torturing this little thing!' Thereupon, without warning, he took her hand in his and looked at it. She made a very slight instinctive movement to withdraw it, and then it lay quite still and passive. 'I am sure I could never bear pain,' she said, smiling. 'I should tell everything at once! I should never make a good conspirator. I suppose you must have been wounded once or twice, when you were young. Tell me, did it hurt very much?' He let her hand fall as he answered, and she drew it back and hid it under her wide sleeve. 'A cut with a sharp sword feels like a stream of icy-cold water,' he answered. 'A thrust through the flesh pricks like a big thorn, and pricks again when the point comes out on the other side. One feels very little, or nothing at all, if one is badly wounded in the head, for one is stunned at once; it is the headache afterwards that really hurts. If one is wounded in the lungs, one feels nothing, but one is choked by the blood, and one must turn on one's face at once in order not to suffocate. Broken bones hurt afterwards as a rule, more than at first, but it is a curious sensation to have one's collar bone smashed by a blow from a two-handed sword----' 'Good heavens!' cried Zoë. 'What a catalogue! How do you know how each thing feels?' 'I can remember,' Zeno answered simply. 'You have been wounded in all those different ways, and you are alive?' Zeno smiled. 'Yes; and you understand now why I look so old.' 'I was not in earnest,' Zoë said. 'You knew that I was not. You need only look at yourself in a mirror to see that I was laughing.' 'I was not very deeply hurt by being taken for a man of fifty,' Zeno answered, not quite truthfully. 'Oh no!' laughed Zoë. 'I cannot imagine that my opinion of your age could make any difference to you. It was silly of me--only, for a man who has had so many adventures, you do look absurdly young!' 'So much the better, since my fighting days are over.' 'And since you are a sober, peace-loving merchant,' said Zoë, continuing the sentence for him. 'But are you so very sure, my lord? Would nothing make you draw your sword again and risk your life on your fencing? Nothing?' 'Nothing that did not affect my honour, I truly believe.' 'You would not do it for a woman's sake?' She turned to him, to watch his face, but its expression did not change. 'Three things can drive a wise man mad,--wine, women, and dice.' 'I daresay! Your lordship reckons us in good company. But that is no answer to my question.' 'Yes it is,' said Zeno with a laugh. 'Why should I do for a woman what I would not do for dice or wine?' 'But dice and wine never tempted you,' Zoë objected. Zeno laughed louder. 'Never? When I was a student at Padua I sold everything, even my books, to get money for both. It was only when the books were gone that I turned soldier, and learned the greatest game of hazard in the world. Compared with that, dice are an opiate, and wine is a sleeping-draught.' He only smiled now, after laughing, but there was a look in his face as he spoke which she saw then for the first time and did not forget, and recognised when she saw it again. It was subtle, and might have passed unnoticed among men, but it spoke to the sex in the girl, and made her young blood thrill. For worlds, she would not have had him guess what she felt just then. 'Fighting for its own sake would tempt you, if nothing else could,' she answered quietly. 'Ah--perhaps, perhaps,' he answered, musing. 'But you would need a cause, though ever so slight, and you have none here, have you?' 'None that I care to take up.' 'You may find something to fight for--over the water,' Zoë suggested, emphasising the words a little and watching his face. The phrase meant nothing to him. 'Over the water?' he repeated carelessly. 'At home, in Venice, you mean. Yes, if Venice needed me, I should not wait to be called twice!' It was quite clear that he attached no meaning to the words she had used, and this fact tallied with what the astrologer had told her in the morning as to his having been deaf to all advances made to him by the imprisoned Emperor's party. Zoë leaned back in silence for a while, almost closing her eyes, and she saw that he watched her, and that an unmistakable look of admiration stole into his face. She was wondering whether it would ever turn into something more, and whether she should ever see the gleam of fight in his eyes, for her sake, that had flashed in them a moment ago at the mere thought of battle. What did women do, to make men love them? There is an age when girls believe that love need only be called, like a tame dove, and that he will fly in at the window; and there is an age when he comes to them uncalled-for. If only the ages were the same for all, much trouble might be spared. Zoë was perhaps between the two, but she still believed that there was some fixed rule on which clever women acted to make men fall in love with them, those wicked women who are described to young girls as 'designing,' and are supposed to know precisely the effect they can produce on men at any moment, to the very nicety of an eyelash. Zeno broke the long silence with an unexpected speech which roughly awakened Zoë from her reflection. 'As for this Emperor John whom his son has locked up,' he said, 'his friends have done their best to interest me in his cause. He has even sent me messages, begging me to help him to escape. Why? What difference can it make to me whether he or his son dies in the Amena tower? They are poor things, both of them, and for all I care John may starve in his chains before I will lift a finger!' Zoë sighed and bit her lip to check herself, for his voluntary declaration had dashed the palace of her hopes to pieces in an instant. Then she was ashamed of having even dreamt that he might love her, since he despised the very cause for which she had wished to win his love. But this state of mind did not last long, either. She was too brave to let such a speech pass, as if she agreed with it. 'You are wrong,' she said, quite forgetting that she had set herself to play the part of the slave. 'You ought to help him, if you can--and you can, if you will.' Zeno looked at her in surprise. There was something like authority in her tone, and the two little maids, whom he had forgotten in their corner behind him, stared in astonishment at her audacity. Not a word of the conversation had escaped them. 'I mean,' continued Zoë, before he could find an answer to her plain statement, 'if you are a true Venetian you should wish to put down the man whom the Genoese and the Turks have set on the throne. Johannes is your friend and your country's friend, though he is a weak man and always will be. Andronicus is an enemy to Venice and a friend to her enemies. He is even now ready to give the island of Tenedos to them--the key to the Dardanelles----' 'What?' asked Zeno in a loud and angry tone. 'Tenedos?' His manner had changed, and he almost rose from his seat as he bent forwards and seized her wrist in his excitement. She was glad, and smiled at him. 'Yes,' she answered, 'the Genoese demand it as the price of their protection, and they will force him to give it to them. But it may not be easy, for the governor of the island is loyal to Johannes.' 'How do you know these things?' asked Zeno, still holding her wrist and trying to look into her eyes. 'I know them,' Zoë answered. 'If I am not telling you the truth, sell me in the market to-morrow.' [Illustration: 'I know them,' Zoë answered. 'If I am not telling you the truth, sell me in the market to-morrow.'] 'By the Evangelist,' swore Zeno, 'you will deserve it.' CHAPTER IX A month had passed, and yet, to all outward appearance, Zeno's manner of living had undergone no change. He rose early and bathed in the Golden Horn on fine days. He attended to his business in the morning, and dined with Sebastian Polo twice a week, but generally at home on the remaining days; and he rode out in the afternoon with a single running footman, or stayed indoors if it rained. Even his own servants and slaves hardly noticed any change in his habits, and only observed that he often looked preoccupied, and sometimes sat on his balcony for an hour without moving, his eyes fixed on the towers of the Blachernæ palace. They did not know how much time he spent with his beautiful Greek slave; and they found that the two little maids, Yulia and Lucilla, were not inclined to gossip when they came downstairs on an errand. Omobono probably knew a good deal, but he kept it to himself, and stored the fruits of his lively curiosity to enjoy alone the delicious sensation of the miser gloating over his useless gold. On the whole, therefore, life in the Venetian merchant's house had gone on much as usual for a whole month after Zoë had fired a train which was destined to produce momentous results when it reached the mine at last. Zeno saw her every day now, and often twice, and she had become a part of his life, and necessary to him; though he did not believe that he was in love with her, any more than she would have admitted that she loved him. For each was possessed by one dominant thought; and it chanced, as it rarely chances in real life, that one deed, if it could be performed, would satisfy the hopes of both. Zeno, born patriot and leader, saw that the whole influence of his country in the East was at stake in the matter of Tenedos; Zoë thirsted to revenge the death of Michael Rhangabé, her adopted father and the idol of her childhood. If the imprisoned Emperor Johannes could be delivered from the Amena tower, both would certainly obtain what they most desired. Johannes would give Tenedos to Venice, in gratitude for his liberty, and the people of Constantinople would probably tear Andronicus to ribands in the Hippodrome, on the very spot where Rhangabé had suffered. They would rally round their lawful sovereign if he could only be got out of the precincts of the palace, where the usurper was strongly guarded by his foreign mercenaries, mostly Circassians, Mingrelians, Avars, and Slavonians. The people would not rise of themselves to storm Blachernæ, nor would the Greek troops revolt of their own accord; but as they all feared the soldiers of the foreign legion, they hated them and their master Andronicus, and the presence of Johannes amongst them would restore their courage and make the issue certain. Such a leader as Carlo Zeno might indeed have successfully besieged Andronicus in his palace; but he knew, and every man and woman in Constantinople knew well enough, that Andronicus would make an end of his father and of his two younger brothers in prison, at the first sign of a revolution, so that there might be no lawful heir to the throne left alive but he himself. Therefore it was the first and the chief object of the patriots to bring Johannes secretly from his place of confinement to the heart of the city, or to one of the islands, beyond the reach of danger, till the revolution should be over and his son a prisoner in his stead; though it was much more probable that the latter would be summarily put to death as a traitor. All this Zeno had understood before Zoë had spoken to him about it; but he had not known that the Genoese had demanded Tenedos of Andronicus as the price of their protection against the Turks; for the negotiations had been kept very secret, and at first Carlo had not believed the girl, and had deemed that the tale might be a pure invention. He had come again to see her on the following day, and again he had vainly tried to find out who she was, and in what great Fanariote house she had been brought up. It was impossible to get a word from her on this subject; and she warned him that what she had told him must not be repeated in the hearing of any Genoese, nor of any one connected with the Court. The Genoese meant that no one should know of the treaty till it was carried out, and until Tenedos was theirs; for the place was very strong, as they afterwards found by experience, and Andronicus needed their help too much to risk losing their favour by an indiscretion. These injunctions of silence made Carlo still more doubtful as to the veracity of Zoë's story, and he frankly told her so and demanded proof; but she only answered as she had at first. 'If it is not true,' she said, 'brand me in the forehead, as they brand thieves, and sell me in the open market.' And again he was angry, and swore that he would do so by her indeed if the story was a lie; but she smiled confidently, and nodded her assent. 'If you do not save the Emperor,' she said, 'you Venetians will be driven out of Constantinople before many months; and if Genoa once holds Tenedos how shall you ever again sail up the Dardanelles?' Many a time she had heard Michael Rhangabé say as much to his friends, and she knew that it was wisdom. So did Zeno, and he wondered at the knowledge of his bought slave. So he came and went, turning over the great question in his brain; and she awaited his coming gladly, because she saw that he was roused, and because the longing for just revenge was uppermost in her thoughts. Thus were the two drawn together more and more, fate helping. Yet he told her nothing of the steps he took so quickly after he had once made up his mind to act. She no longer asked him what he meant to do with her; she did not again send for the secretary to complain that her existence was dull; she no longer was impatient with her maids; she seemed perfectly satisfied with her existence. She went out when she pleased to go, in the beautiful skiff, in charge of Omobono, and always with one of the girls; and she sat in the deep cushioned seat as the great ladies did when they were rowed to the Sweet Waters, and as she had sat many times in old days, beside Kyría Agatha. The secretary sat on a little movable seat in the waist of the boat, which was built almost exactly like a modern Venetian gondola without the hood, and the slave-girl sat in the bottom at her mistress's feet. Zoë, the adopted daughter of the Protosparthos, had gone abroad with uncovered face, but Arethusa, the slave, was closely veiled, though that was not the general custom. And often, as she glided along in the spring afternoons, she passed people she had known only a year ago, or a little more, who wondered why she hid her features; or told each other, as was more or less true, that she was some handsome white slave, whose jealous master would not suffer her beauty to be seen. For it was clear that Omobono was only a respectable elderly person placed in charge of her. The two generally conversed in Latin, and the secretary told her of his search for Kyría Agatha, the children, and old Nectaria. She had never shown him her face since she had been a slave, and she believed that he did not connect her with the ragged girl he had seen bending over the sick woman's bed in the beggars' quarter. She had enjoined upon him the greatest discretion in case he found the little family, and with Omobono such an injunction was quite unnecessary, for outward discretion is the characteristic quality of curiosity, which is inwardly the least discreet of failings. People who look through keyholes, listen behind curtains, and read other people's letters are generally the last to talk of what they learn in that way. As yet, the secretary's search had been fruitless, but he had long ago made up his mind that Zoë was Kyría Agatha's daughter. The bandy-legged sacristan of Saint Bacchus had helped him to this conclusion by informing him that Rustan Karaboghazji had not come to perform his devotions in the church for some time; never, in fact, since that Friday afternoon on which Omobono had inquired after him. The secretary had searched the beggars' quarter in vain. He remembered the ruined house very well, and the crazy shutters with bits of rain-bleached string tied to them for fastenings. There were people living in it, but they were not the same beggars; it was now inhabited by the chief physician of the beggars himself, whose business it was to prepare misery for the public eye, at fixed rates. For among those who were really starving there lived a small tribe of professional paupers, who displayed the horrors of their loathsome diseases at the doors of the churches all over Constantinople. The physician was skilful in his way, and though he preferred a real cripple, or a real sore for his art to improve upon, he could produce the semblance of either on sound limbs and a whole skin, though the process was expensive. Yet that increased cost was balanced by the ability of his healthy patients to go alone to a great distance, and thus to vary the scene of their industry. They thus picked up the charity which should have reached the real poor, most of whom could hardly crawl as far as the great thoroughfares more than once or twice a week, at the risk of their lives. The sham beggar always has a marvellous power of covering the ground, but you must generally seek the real one in the lair where he is dying. Omobono had learnt much about beggars which he had not known before then, and he had found no trace whatever of the people whom he was seeking. They seemed very far away when Zoë thought of them. She wondered whether any of them missed her, except Nectaria, now that they had warm clothes and plenty to eat. The sacrifice had been very terrible at first,--it did not seem so now; and she knew that on that very afternoon when she went home after being out in the boat, she would listen for Zeno's footstep in the vestibule, and think the time long till he came. But Omobono had gathered a good deal of information about her from his acquaintance, the sacristan, whom he strongly suspected of being in league with Rustan to inform him when there was anything worth buying in the beggars' quarter; for the Bokharian was a busy man, and had no time to spend in searching for unusual merchandise, nor, when there was any to be had, would it have been to his advantage to be seen often in its neighborhood. So he paid the sacristan to quarter the ground continually for him, while he was engaged elsewhere. It is to the credit of Rustan's splendid business intelligence that the system he employed has not been improved on in five hundred years; for when the modern slave-dealers make their annual journeys to the centres of supply they find everything ready for them, like any other commercial traveller. Having understood Rustan's mode of procedure, Omobono had extracted from the sacristan such information as the latter possessed about Zoë and Kyría Agatha, but that was not very much after all. They had lived three or four weeks in the ruined house, or perhaps six; he could not remember exactly. At first they all came to the church, but they had sold their miserable clothes and their wretched belongings. The last time the girl had come, she had been alone, and she had worn a blanket over her shoulders to keep her warm. That had been at dusk. Then Rustan had bought her, and soon afterwards they must have gone away, since the beggars' physician was now installed in the house. Why should the sacristan take any interest in them? They were gone, and Constantinople was a vast city. No, the woman had not died, for he would have known it. When people died they were buried, even if they had starved to death in the beggars' quarter. Zoë thanked Omobono for the information, and begged him to continue her search. He wondered why she did not burst into tears, and concluded that she was either quite heartless, or was in love with Zeno, or both. He inclined to the latter theory. Love, he told himself with all the conviction of middle-aged inexperience, was a selfish passion. Zoë loved Zeno, and did not care what had become of her mother. Besides, he knew that she was jealous. She had heard of Giustina, and was determined to see her. She insisted that the boat should keep to the left, going up the Golden Horn, and she made the secretary point out Sebastian Polo's dwelling. It was a small palace, a hundred yards below the gardens of Blachernæ, and it had marble steps, like those at Zeno's house. A girl with dyed hair sat in the shade in an upper balcony; her hair was red auburn, like that of the Venetian women, and her face was white, but that was all Zoë could see. She wished she had a hawk's eyes. Omobono said it might be Giustina, but as the latter had many friends, it might also be one of them, for most Venetian women had hair of that colour. Farther up, they neared Blachernæ, and came first to the great Amena tower, of which the foundations stood on an escarped pier in the water. Zoë looked up, trying to guess the height of the upper windows from the water, but she had no experience, and they were very high--perhaps a hundred palms, perhaps fifty--Zeno would know. Could he get up there by a rope? She wondered, and she thought of what she should feel if she herself were hanging there in mid-air by a single rope against the smooth wall. Then in her imagination she saw Zeno half-way up, and some one cut the line above, for he was discovered, and he fell. A painful thrill ran down the back of her neck and her spine and through her limbs, and she shrank in her seat. It was up there, in the highest story, that Johannes had been a prisoner nearly two years. The windows needed no gratings, for it would be death to leap out, and no one could climb up to get in. The pier below the tower sloped to the stream, and its base ran out so far that no man could have jumped clear of it from above--even if he dared the desperate risk of striking the water. Bertrandon de la Broquière saw it, years afterwards, when Zeno was an old man, and you may look at a good picture of it in his illuminated book. A solitary fisherman was perched on the edge of the sloping pier, apparently hindered from slipping off by the very slight projection of the lowest course of stones, which was perpendicular. His brown legs were bare far above the knee, he wore a brown fisherman's coat of a woollen stuff, not woven but fulled like felt; a wide hat of sennet, sewn round and round a small crown of tarred sailcloth, flapped over his ears. He angled in the slow stream with a long reed and a short line. Zoë looked at him attentively as the boat passed near him, and she saw that he was watching her, too, from under the limp brim of his queer hat. Her left hand hung over the gunwale of the skiff, and when she was opposite the fisherman she wetted her fingers and carelessly raised them to her lips as if she were tasting the drops. The man instantly replied by waving his rod over the water thrice, and he cast his short line each time. She had seen his mouth and chin and scanty beard below the hanging brim of his hat, and she had fancied that she recognised him; she had no doubt of it now. The solitary fisherman was Gorlias Pietrogliant, the astrologer. Omobono had scarcely noticed him, for his own natural curiosity made him look steadily up at the high windows, on the chance that the imperial prisoner might look out just then. He had seen him once or twice before the revolution, and wondered whether he was much changed by his long confinement. But instead of the handsome bearded face the secretary remembered, a woman appeared and looked towards Pera for a moment, and drew back hastily as she caught sight of the skiff; she was rather a stout woman with red cheeks, and she wore the Greek head-dress of the upper classes. So much Omobono saw at a glance, though the window was fully ninety feet above him, and she had only remained in sight a few seconds. He had always had good eyes. But without seeing her at all Zoë had understood that communication between the prisoner and the outer world was carried on through Gorlias, and that by him a message could be sent directly to the Emperor. She did not speak till the boat had passed the whole length of the palace and was turning in the direction of the Sweet Waters. 'That astrologer,' she said, 'do you remember him? Why has he never come again?' Omobono promised to send for him the very next day. After that there was silence for a while, and the skiff slipped along upstream, till the secretary spoke again, to correct what he had last said. 'He had better not come to-morrow. I will tell him to come the next morning.' 'Why?' Zoë asked, in some surprise. 'To-morrow,' said Omobono, 'Messer Sebastian Polo comes to dine with the master. There will be confusion in the house.' 'Confusion, because one guest comes to dinner?' Zoë spoke incredulously. 'I believe,' said Omobono rather timidly, 'that he will not be the only guest.' 'He brings his daughter with him, then?' Zoë felt that she changed colour under her veil. 'I do not know,' the secretary said smoothly; 'but there will be several guests.' Zoë turned towards him impatiently. 'You will have orders to keep me out of the way while they are in the house,' she said. 'I shall receive through you the master's commands not to show myself at my window!' 'How can you think such a thing?' cried Omobono, protesting. 'Rather than put you to such inconvenience I am sure the master will beg his guests to enter by the other side of the house. If it was his object to exasperate her, he had succeeded, but if he expected her to break out in anger he was mistaken. She was too proud, and she already regretted the few hasty words she had spoken. Moreover, her anger told her something that surprised her, and wounded her self-respect. She understood for the first time how jealous she was, and that she could feel no such jealousy if she were not in love. She was not a child, and but for misfortune she would have been married at least two years by this time. This was not the dreamy and slowly stealing dawn of girlhood's day; her sun had risen in a flash amidst angry clouds, as he does in India in mid-June, when the south-west monsoon is just going to break and the rain is very near. When Omobono had spoken she leaned back in her seat and drew the folds of her mantle more closely round her, as if to separate herself from him more completely, and she did not speak again for a long time. On his side, the secretary understood, and instead of feeling rebuked by her silence, he was pleased with himself because his curiosity had made another step forward in the land of discovery. It occurred to him that it would be very interesting to bring Zoë and Giustina within sight of each other, if no nearer. Zeno had not said that his guests were to come by land instead of by water; the secretary had only argued that he would request them to do so, to avoid their seeing Zoë if she happened to be at her window. Omobono had power to do whatever he thought necessary for keeping the house and the approach to it in repair without consulting any one. That was a part of his duty. It was usual to repair the road in the spring. Omobono chose to have the work done now, sent for a gang of labourers, and gave a few simple orders. Before Zeno knew what was going on the way to the main entrance was quite impassable, though a narrow passage had been left to the door of the kitchen for the servants and slaves. The secretary had suddenly discovered that the road was in such a deplorable condition as to make it necessary to dig it out to the depth of a yard here and there, where the soil was soft, thus making a series of pits, over which no horse could pass. 'What in the world possessed you to do this now?' asked Zeno, with annoyance, 'I told you that Messer Sebastian and his daughter were coming to dine with me to-morrow, as well as other friends.' 'They will see nothing, sir,' answered the secretary imperturbably. 'The guests always come by water, they dine on that side of the house, and they go away by water. How could they see the road, sir? It is beyond the court!' Zeno did not choose to explain that he had especially begged Polo and the others to come by land, and he now concealed his displeasure, or believed that he did. But when Omobono had gone to his own room Zeno sent for the running footmen and bade them go to each of the invited guests early the next morning to say that the road was torn up and that they must be good enough to come in their boats. Then he went upstairs, for he had not seen Zoë all day, and it pleased him to sup with her. As soon as he entered the room and saw her he felt that something was wrong, but he made as if he noticed nothing, and sat down in his usual place. 'We will have supper together,' he said in a cheerful tone, settling himself in his big chair, and rubbing his hands, like a man who has finished his day's work and looks forward to something pleasant. As a matter of fact he had done nothing in particular, and had set himself a rather disagreeable task; for he did not wish Messer Sebastian to know that Zoë or any other woman was in the house, and he was reduced to the necessity of telling the girl not to show herself. She was legally his chattel, and if he chose he might lock her up in a room on the other side of the house for a few hours, or in the cellar. He told himself this; and for the hundredth time he recalled her own story of her birth and bringing up, which was logical and clear, and explained both her gentle breeding and the careful education she had evidently received. But logic is often least convincing when it is most unanswerable, and Zeno remained in the belief that the most important part of Zoë's story was still a secret. She said nothing now in answer to his announcement, but she beckoned to Yulia to bring supper, and the maid disappeared. Being out of temper with him at that moment, she was asking herself how she could possibly be jealous of Giustina Polo; she mentally added that she would no more think of sitting at the window to see her go by, than of looking at her through a keyhole. Also, she wished Zeno would sit where he was for an hour or two, and not utter a word, so that she might show him how utterly indifferent she was to his presence, and that she could be just as silent as he; and women much older than Zoë have felt just as she did then. But Zeno, who was uncomfortable, was also resolved to be cheerful and at his ease. 'It has been a beautiful day,' he observed. 'I hope you had a pleasant morning on the water.' 'Thanks,' Zoë answered, and said no more. This was not encouraging, but Zeno was not easily put off. After a few moments he tried again. 'I fear you do not find my secretary very amusing,' he said. Zoë was on the point of asking him whether he himself considered Omobono a diverting person, but she checked herself with a little snort of indignation which might have passed for a laugh without a smile. Zeno glanced at her profile, raised his eyebrows, and said nothing more till the slave-girls came with the supper. While they brought the small table and set it between the two, he leaned back in his carved chair, crossed one shapely leg over the other, and drummed a noiseless tattoo with the end of his fingers on his knee, the picture of unconcern. Zoë half sat and half lay on her divan, apparently scrutinising the nail of one little finger, pushing it and rubbing it gently with the thumb of the same hand, and then looking at it again as if she expected to observe a change in its appearance after being touched. The maids placed the dishes on the table and poured out wine, and Zoë began to eat in silence, without paying any attention to Zeno. That is one way of showing indifference, and both men and women use it, yet it still remains surprisingly effective. 'What is the matter with you?' Zeno asked, suddenly. Zoë pretended to be surprised and then smiled coldly. 'Oh! you mean, because I am hungry, I suppose. I have been in the open air. It must be that.' She at once took another mouthful, and went on eating. 'No,' answered Zeno, watching her. 'I did not mean that.' She raised her beautiful eyebrows, just as he had raised his a few minutes earlier, but she said nothing and seemed very busy with the fish. Carlo took another piece, swallowed some of it deliberately, and drank a little before he leaned back in his chair and spoke again. 'Something has happened,' he said at last with great conviction. 'Really?' Zoë pretended surprised interest. 'What?' she asked with affected eagerness. 'You understand me perfectly,' he replied with a shade of sternness, for he was growing tired of her mood. She glanced at him sideways, as a woman does when she hears a man's tone change suddenly, and she is not sure what he may do or say next. 'You do not make it easy to understand you, my lord,' she said after an instant's hesitation. 'The matter is simple enough. I find you in a bad humour----' 'Oh no! I assure you!' Zoë broke in, with a woman's diabolical facility in interrupting a man just at the right moment for her own advantage. 'I was never in a better temper in my life!' To prove this, she took a bird and some salad, and smiled sweetly at her plate, leaving him to prove his assertion, but he did not fall into the trap. 'Then you are not easy to live with,' he observed bluntly. 'I am glad it is over.' 'Do take some of this salad!' suggested Zoë. 'It is really delicious!' 'To-morrow,' Zeno said, without paying any attention to her recommendation, 'I shall have a few guests at dinner.' 'I should advise you to give them a salad exactly like this,' answered Zoë. 'It could not be better!' 'I am glad you like it. I leave the fare to Omobono. It is about another matter that I have to speak.' 'You need not!' Zoë laughed carelessly. 'I know what you are going to say. Shall I save you the trouble?' 'I do not see how you can guess what it is----' 'Oh, easily! You do not wish your friends to see me and you are going to order me not to look out of the window when they come. Is that it?' 'Yes--more or less----' Zeno was surprised. 'Yes, that is it,' laughed Zoë. 'But it is quite useless, sir. I shall most certainly look out of the window, unless you lock me up in another room; and as for your doing that, I will yield only to force!' She laughed again, much amused at the dilemma in which she was placing him. And indeed, he did not at first know how to answer her declaration of independence. 'I cannot imagine why you should be so anxious to show yourself to people you do not know,' he said. 'Or perhaps you fancy they may be friends--you think that if they recognise you--but that is absurd. I have told you that if you have friends in the world you may go to them, and you say you have none.' Zoë's tone changed again and became girlishly petulant. 'It is nothing but curiosity, of course!' she answered. 'I want to see the people you like. Is that so unnatural? In a whole month I have never seen one of your friends--' 'I have not many. But such as I have, I value, and I do not care to let them get a mistaken impression of me, or of the way I live.' 'Especially not the women amongst them,' Zoë added, half interrogatively. 'There are none,' said Zeno, as if to cut short the suggestion. 'I see. You do not want your men friends to know that there are women living in your house, do you? They are doubtless all grave and elderly persons, who would be much shocked and grieved to learn that you have bought a pretty Greek slave. After all, you came near being a priest, did you not? They naturally associate you in their minds with the clergy, and for some reason or other you think it just as well for you, or your affairs, that they should! I have always heard that the Venetians are good men of business!' 'You are probably the only person alive who would risk saying that to me,' said Zeno, looking at her. 'What do I risk, my lord?' asked Zoë, with a sort of submissive gravity. 'My anger,' Zeno answered curtly. 'Yes sir, I understand. Your anger--but pray, my lord, how will it show itself? Shall I be beaten, or put in chains and starved, or turned out of your house and sold at auction? Those are the usual punishments for disobedient slaves, are they not?' 'I am not a Greek,' said Zeno, annoyed. 'If you were,' answered Zoë, turning her face from him to hide her smile, 'you would probably wish to tear out my tongue!' 'Perhaps.' 'It might be a wise precaution!' she laughed. Zeno looked at her sharply now, for the words sounded like a threat that was only half-playful. She knew enough to compass his destruction at the hands of Andronicus if she betrayed him, but he did not believe she would do that, and he wondered what she was driving at, for his experience of women's ways was small. 'Listen,' he said, dropping his voice a little. 'I shall not beat you, I shall not starve you, and I shall not sell you. But if you try to betray me, I will kill you.' She raised her head proudly and met his eyes without fear. 'I would spare you the trouble--if I ever betrayed you or any one.' 'It is one thing to talk of death, it is another to die!' Zeno laughed rather incredulously, as he quoted the old Italian proverb. 'I have seen death,' Zoë answered, in a different tone. 'I know what it is.' He wondered what she meant, but he knew it was useless to question her, and for a few moments there was silence. The lamps burned steadily in the quiet air, for the evenings were still and cool, and the windows were shut and curtained; through the curtains and the shutters the song of a passing waterman was heard in the stillness, a long-drawn, plaintive melody in the Lydian Mode, familiar to Zoë's ears since she had been a child. But Zeno saw how intensely she listened to the words. She clasped her hands tightly over her knee, and bent forwards to catch each note and syllable. The waters are blue as the eyes of the Emperor's daughter, In the crystal pools of her eyes there are salt tears. The water is both salt and fresh. Over the water to my love, this night, over the water-- The voice died away, and Zoë no longer heard the words distinctly; presently she could not hear the voice at all, yet she strained her ears for a few seconds longer. The boat must have passed, on its way down to the Bosphorus. For a whole month she had sat in the same room at that hour, and many times already she had heard men singing in their boats, sometimes to that same ancient Lydian Mode, but never once had they pronounced those meaning words. Often and often again she had passed within sight of the Amena tower, but not until to-day had she seen a solitary fisherman sitting at the pier's edge below it, and he had waved his rod thrice over the water when she passed by. And now in a flash of intuition she guessed that the singer was the fisherman and none other, and that the song was for her, and for no one else; and it was a signal which she could understand and should answer if she could; and there was but one way of answering, and that was to show some light. 'It is hot,' she said, beckoning to Yulia. 'Open the large window wide for a few minutes and let in the fresh air.' Yulia obeyed quickly. The night was very dark. 'Besides,' Zoë continued carelessly, as Zeno looked at her, 'that fellow has a fine voice, and we shall still hear him.' And indeed, as the window was opened, the song was heard again, at some distance-- Over the water to my love, she is awake to-night, I see her eyes amongst the stars. Love, I am here in the dark, but to-morrow I shall see the day in your face, I shall see the noon in your eyes, I shall look upon the sun in your hair. Over the water, the blue water, the water both salt and fresh---- Once more the voice died away and the faint plash of oars told Zoë that the message was all delivered, and that Gorlias was gone, on his way downstream. Zeno, whose maternal tongue was not Greek, could not be supposed to understand much of the song, for unfamiliar words sung to such ancient melodies can only be caught by native-born ears, and sharp ones at that. At a signal from Zoë, the maid shut the window again, and drew the curtains. 'Could you understand the fellow?' Zeno asked, glad in reality that the conversation had been interrupted. 'Yes,' Zoë answered lightly, 'as you would understand an Italian fisherman, I suppose. The man gave you a message, my lord. Shall I interpret what he said?' 'Can you?' He laughed a little. 'He tells you that if you will not try to force Arethusa to keep away from the window to-morrow, she will probably do as you wish--probably!' 'Your friend must have good ears!' Zeno smiled. 'But then he only said "probably." That is not a promise.' 'Why should you trust the promise of a poor slave, sir? You would not believe a lady of Constantinople in the same case if she took oath on the four Gospels! Imagine any woman missing a chance of looking at another about whom she is curious!' 'Who is the other?' asked Zeno, not much pleased. 'She is young, and as fresh as spring. Her hair is like that of all the Venetian ladies----' 'Since you have seen her, why are you so anxious to see her again?' 'Ah! You see! It is she! I knew it! She is coming to-morrow with her father.' 'Well? If she is, what of it?' asked Zeno, impatiently. 'Nothing. Since you admit that it is she, I do not care to see her at all. I will be good and you need not lock me up.' Thereupon she bent towards the table and began to eat again, daintily, but as if she were still hungry. Zeno watched her in silence for some time, conscious that of all women he had ever seen none had so easily touched him, none had played upon his moods as she did, making him impatient, uneasy, angry, and forgiving by turns, within a quarter of an hour. A few minutes ago he had been so exasperated that he had rudely longed to box her little ears; and now he felt much more inclined to kiss her, and did not care to think how very easy and wholly lawful it was for him to do so. That was one of his many dilemmas; if he spoke to her as his equal she told him she was a slave, but when he treated her ever so little as if she were one, her proud little head went up, and she looked like an empress. She had never been so much like one as to-night, he thought, though there was nothing very imperial in the action of eating a very sticky strawberry, drawn up out of thick syrup with a forked silver pin. She did it with grace, no doubt, twisting the pin dexterously, so that the big drop of syrup spread all round the berry just at the right moment, and it never dripped. Zeno had often seen the wife of the Emperor Charles eating stewed prunes with her fingers, which was not neat or pleasant to see, though it might be imperial, since she was a genuine empress. But it was neither Zoë's grace nor her delicate ways that pleased him and puzzled him most; the mystery lay rather in the fearless tone of her voice and the proud carriage of her head when she was offended, in the flashing answer of her brave eyes and the noble curve of her tender mouth; for these are things given, not learnt, and if they could be taught at all, thought Zeno, they would not be taught to a slave. He let his head rest against the back of his chair and wished many things, rather incoherently. For once in his life he felt inclined for anything rather than action or danger, or any sudden change; and in the detestable natural contradiction of duty and inclination it chanced that on that night, of all nights, he could not stay where he was to idle away two or three hours in careless talk, till it should be time to go downstairs and sleep. The habit of spending his evenings in that way had grown upon him during the past month more than he realised; but to-night he knew that he must break through it, and perhaps to-morrow, too, and for long afterwards, if not for ever. That was one reason why it had annoyed him to find Zoë out of temper. He rose with an effort, and with something like a sigh. 'I must be going,' he said, standing beside the divan. 'Good-night.' Zoë had looked up in surprise when he left his seat, and now her face fell. 'Already? Must you go already?' she asked. 'Yes. I have to keep an appointment. Good-night.' 'Good-night, Messer Carlo,' answered Zoë softly and a little sadly. She had never before addressed him in that way, as an equal and a Venetian would have done, and the expression, with the tone in which it was uttered, arrested his attention and stopped him when he was in the act of turning away. He said nothing, but there was a question in his look. 'I am sorry that I made you angry,' she said, and she turned her face up to him with one of those half-pathetic, hesitating little smiles that ask forgiveness of a man and invariably get it, unless he is a brute. 'I am sorry that I let you see I was annoyed,' he answered simply. 'If I had not been so foolish, you would not go away so early!' Her tone was contrite and regretfully thoughtful, as if the explanation were irrefutable but humiliating. Eve was, on the whole, a good woman, and is believed to be in Paradise; yet with the slight previous training of a few minutes' conversation with the serpent she was an accomplished temptress, and her rustic taste for apples has sent untold millions down into unquenchable fire. It was a mere coincidence that Eve should have been always called Zoë in the early Greek translations of Genesis, and that Zoë Rhangabé should have inherited a dangerous resemblance to the first beautiful--and enterprising--mother of men. 'I would stay if I could,' Zeno said. 'But indeed I have an appointment, and I must go.' 'Is it very important, very--very?' Zeno smiled at her now, but did not answer at once. Instead, he walked to the window, opened the shutters again, and looked out. The night was very dark. Here and there little lights twinkled in the houses of Pera, and those that were near the water's edge made tiny paths over the black stream. After his eyes had grown used to the gloom Zeno could make out that there was a boat near the marble steps, and a very soft sound of oars moving in the water told him that the boatman was paddling gently to keep his position against the slow current. Zeno shut the window again and turned back to Zoë. 'Yes,' he said, answering her last speech after the interval, 'it is very important. If it were not, I would not go out to-night.' He was going out of the house, then. She knew that he rarely did so after dark, and she could not help connecting his going with the invitation he had given to Polo and his daughter for the next day. Zoë's imagination instantly spun a thread across the chasms of improbability, and ran along the fairy bridge to the regions of the impossible beyond. He was to be betrothed to Giustina to-morrow, he was going now to settle some urgent matter of business connected with the marriage-contract; or he was betrothed already; yes, and he was to be married in the morning and would bring his bride home; Zoë, in her lonely room upstairs, would hear the noisy feasting of the wedding-guests below---- When the thread broke, leaving her in the unreality, her lip quivered, and she was a little pale. Zeno was standing beside her, holding her hand. 'Good-night, Arethusa,' he said in a tone that frightened her. The words sounded like 'good-bye,' for that was what they might mean; he knew it, and she guessed it. 'You are going away!' she cried, springing to her feet and slipping her hand from his to catch his wrist. 'Not if I can help it,' he answered. 'But you may not see me to-morrow.' 'Not in the evening?' she asked in great anxiety. 'Not even after they are gone?' 'I cannot tell,' he replied gravely. 'Perhaps not.' She dropped his wrist and turned from him. 'You are going to be married,' she said in a low voice. 'I was sure of it.' 'No!' he answered with emphasis. 'Not that!' She turned to him again; it did not occur to her to doubt his word, and her eyes asked him the next question with eager anxiety, but he would not answer. He only repeated the three words, very tenderly and softly-- 'Good-night--Arethusa!' She knew it was good-bye, though he would not say it; she was not guessing his meaning now. But she was proud. He should not see how hurt she was. 'Good-night,' she answered. 'If you are going away--then, good-bye.' Her voice almost broke, but she pressed her lips tight together when the last word had passed them, and though the tears seemed to be burning her brain she would not shed them while his eyes were on her. 'God keep you,' he said, as one says who goes on a long journey. Again he was turning from her, not meaning to look back; but it was more than she could bear. In an inward tempest of fear and pain she had been taught suddenly that she truly loved him more than her soul, and in the same instant he was leaving her for a long time, perhaps for ever. She could not bear it, and her pride broke down. She caught his hand as he turned to go and held it fast. 'Take me with you!' she cried. 'Oh, do not go away and leave me behind!' A silence of three seconds. 'I will come back,' he said. 'If I am alive, I will come back.' 'You are going into danger!' Her hand tightened on his, and she grew paler still. He would not answer, but he patted her wrist kindly, trying to soothe her anxiety. He seemed quiet enough at that moment, but he felt the slow, full beat of his own heart and the rush of the swelling pulse in his throat. He had not guessed before to-night that she loved him; he was too simple, and far too sure that he himself could not love a slave. Even now he did not like to own it, but he knew that the hand she held was not passive; it pressed hers tighter in return, and drew it to him instead of pushing it away, till at last it was close to his breast. 'Oh, let me go with you, take me with you!' she repeated, beseeching with all her heart. He was not thinking of danger now, he had forgotten it so far that he scarcely paid attention to her words or to her passionate entreaty. Words had lost sense and value, as they do in battle, and the fire ran along his arm to her hand. It had been cold; it was hot now, and throbbed strangely. Then he dropped it and took her suddenly by her small throat, almost violently, and turned her face up to his; but she was not frightened, and she smiled in his grasp. 'I did not mean to love you!' He still held her as he spoke; she put up her hands together and took his wrists, but not to free herself; instead, she pressed his hold closer upon her throat, as if to make him choke her. 'I wish you would kill me now!' she cried, in a trembling, happy little voice. He laughed low, and shook her the least bit, as a strong man shakes a child in play, but her eyes drew him to her more and more. 'It would be so easy now,' she almost whispered, 'and I should be so happy!' Then they kissed; and as their lips touched they closed their eyes, for they were too near to see each other any longer. Her head sank back from his upon his arm, for she was almost fainting, and he laid his palm gently on her forehead and pushed away her hair, and looked at her long. 'I had not meant to love you,' he said again. Her lips were still parted, tender as rose-leaves at dewfall, and her eyes glistened as she opened them at the sound of his voice. 'Are you sorry?' she asked faintly. [Illustration: 'I did not mean to love you!'] He kissed the question from her lips, and her right hand went up to his brown throat and round it, and drew him, to press the kiss closer; and then it held him down while she moved her head till she could whisper in his ear:-- 'It was only because you were angry,' she said. 'You are not really going out to-night! Tell me you are not!' He would not answer at first, and he tried to kiss her again, but she would not let him, and she pushed him away till she could see his face. He met her eyes frankly, but he shook his head. 'It must be to-night, and no other night,' he said gravely. 'I have made an appointment, and I have given my word. I cannot break it, but I shall come back.' She slipped from his hold, and sat down on the broad divan, against the cushions. 'You are going into danger,' she said. 'You may not come back. You told me so.' He tried to laugh, and answered in a careless tone:-- 'I have come back from far more dangerous expeditions. Besides, I have guests to-morrow--that is a good reason for not being killed!' He stood beside her, one hand half-thrust into his loose belt. She took the other, which hung down, and looked up to him, still pleading. 'Please, please do not go to-night!' Still he shook his head; nothing could move him, and he would go. A piteous look came into her eyes while they appealed to his in vain, and suddenly she dropped his hand and buried her face in the soft leathern pillow. 'You had made me forget that I am only a slave!' she cried. The cushion muffled her voice, and the sentence was broken by a sob, though no tears came with it. 'I would go to-night, though my own mother begged me to stay,' Zeno answered. Zoë turned her head without lifting it, and looked up at him sideways. 'Then much depends on your going,' she said, with a question in her tone. 'If it were only for yourself, for your pleasure, or your fortune, you would not refuse your own mother!' Zeno turned and began to walk up and down the room, but he said nothing in reply. A thought began to dawn in her mind. 'But if it were for your country--for Venice----' He glanced sharply at her as he turned back towards her in his walk, and he slackened his pace. Zoë waited a moment before she spoke again, looked down, thoughtfully pinched the folds of silk on her knee, and looked up suddenly again as if an idea had struck her. 'And though I am only your bought slave,' she said, 'I would not hinder you then. I mean, I would not even try to keep you from running into danger--for Venice!' She held her head up proudly now, and the last words rang out in a tone that went to the man's heart. He was not far from her when she spoke them. The last syllable had not died away on the quiet air and he already held her up in his arms, lifted clear from the floor, and his kisses were raining on her lips, and on her eyes, and her hair. She laughed low at the storm she had raised. 'I love you!' he whispered again and again softly, roughly, and triumphantly by turns. She loved him too, and quite as passionately just then; every kiss woke a deep and delicious thrill that made her whole body quiver with delight, and each oft-repeated syllable of the three whispered words rang like a silver trumpet-note in her heart. But for all that her thoughts raced on, already following him in the coming hours. With every woman, to love a man is to feel that she must positively know just where he is going as soon as he is out of her sight. If it were possible, he should never leave the house without a ticket-of-leave and a policeman, followed by a detective to watch both; but that a man should assert any corresponding right to watch the dear object of his affections throws her into a paroxysm of fury; and it is hard to decide which woman most resents being spied upon, the angel of light, the siren that walketh in darkness, or the semi-virginal flirt. Zoë really loved Zeno more truly at that moment, because the glorious tempest of kisses her speech had called down upon her willing little head brought with it the certainty that he was not going to spend the rest of the evening at the house of Sebastian Polo. This, at least, is how it strikes the story-teller in the bazaar; but the truth is that no man ever really understood any woman. It is uncertain whether any one woman understands any other woman; it is doubtful whether any woman understands her own nature; but one thing is sure, beyond question--every woman who loves a man believes, or tells him, that he helps her to understand herself. This shows us that men are not altogether useless. Yet, to do Zoë justice, there was one other element in her joy. She had waited long to learn that Zeno meant to free Johannes if it could be done, and he had met all her questions with answers that told her nothing; she was convinced that he did not even know the passwords of those who called themselves conspirators, but who had done nothing in two years beyond inventing a few signs and syllables by which to recognise each other. Whether he knew them or not, he was ready to act at last, and the deed on which hung the destinies of Constantinople was to be attempted that very night. Before dawn Michael Rhangabé's death might be avenged, and Kyría Agatha's wrongs with Zoë's own. 'I want to help you,' she said, when he let her speak. 'Tell me how you are going to do it.' 'With a boat and a rope,' he answered. 'Take me! I will sit quite still in the bottom. I will watch; no one has better eyes or ears than I.' 'More beautiful you mean!' He shut her eyes with his lips and kissed the lobe of one little ear. But she moved impatiently in his arms, with a small laugh that meant many things--that she was happy, and that she loved him, but that a kiss was no answer to what she had just said, and that he must not kiss her again till he had replied in words. 'Take me!' she repeated. 'This is man's work,' he answered. 'Besides, it is the work of one man only, and no more.' 'Some one must watch below,' Zoë suggested. 'There is the man in the boat. But watching is useless. If any one surprises us in the tower, I can get away; but if I am caught by an enemy from the water the game is up. That is the only danger.' 'That is the only danger,' Zoë repeated, more to herself than for him. He saw that she had understood now, and that she would not try to keep him longer, nor again beg to be taken. She went with him to the door of the vestibule without calling the maids, and she parted from him there, very quietly. 'God speed you!' she said, for good-bye. When he reached the outer entrance and looked back once more, she was already gone within, and the quiet lamplight fell across the folds of the heavy curtain. CHAPTER X Zeno left his house noiselessly half an hour later, after changing his clothes. He was now lightly clad in dark hose and a soft deerskin doublet with tight sleeves, a close-fitting woollen skull-cap covered his head, and he had no weapon but one good knife of which the sheath was fastened to the back of his belt, as a sailor carries it when he goes aloft to work on rigging. The night was cool, and he had a wide cloak over his shoulders, ready to drop in an instant if necessary. It was intensely dark as he came out, and after being in the light he could hardly see the white marble steps of the landing. He almost lost his balance at the last one, and when he stepped quickly towards the boat, to save himself, he could not see it at all, and was considerably relieved to find himself in the stern sheets instead of in the water. 'Gorlias!' he whispered, leaning forwards. 'Yes!' answered the astrologer-fisherman. The light skiff shot out into the darkness, away from the shore, instead of heading directly for Blachernæ. After a few minutes Gorlias rested on his oars. Zeno had grown used to the gloom and could now see him quite distinctly. Both men peered about them and listened for the sound of other oars, but there was nothing; they were alone on the water. 'Is everything ready?' Zeno asked in a low tone. 'Everything. At the signal over eight hundred men will be before Blachernæ in a few minutes. There are fifty ladders in the ruined houses by the wall of the city. The money has had an excellent effect on the guard, for most of them were drunk this evening, and are asleep now. In the tower, the captain is asleep too, for his wife showed the red light an hour ago. She took up the package of opium last night by the thread.' 'And Johannes himself? Is he ready?' 'He is timid, but he will risk his life to get out of the tower. You may be sure of that!' 'Have you everything we need? The fishing-line, the tail-block, and the two ropes? And the basket? Is everything ready in the bows, there?' 'Everything, just as you ordered it, and the rope clear to pay out.' 'Give way, then.' 'In the name of God,' said Gorlias, as he dipped his oars again. 'Amen,' answered Zeno quietly. The oars were muffled with rags at the thole-pins, and Gorlias was an accomplished oarsman. He dipped the blades into the stream so gently that there was hardly a ripple, and he pulled them through with long, steady strokes, keeping the boat on its course by the scattered lights of the city. Zeno watched the lights, too, leaning back in the stern, and turning over the last details of his plan. Everything depended on getting the imprisoned man out of the Amena tower at once, and he believed he could do that without much difficulty. At first sight it might seem madness to attempt a revolution with only eight hundred men to bear arms in the cause, against ten or fifteen thousand, but the Venetian knew what sort of men they were, and how profoundly Andronicus was hated by all the army except his body-guard. The latter would fight, no doubt, and perhaps die to a man, for they had everything to lose, and expected no quarter; but for the next two hours most of them would be still helplessly asleep after their potations, and if they woke at all they would hardly be in a condition to defend themselves. Money had been distributed to them without knowledge of their officers, purporting to be sent to them from Sultan Amurad, now in Asia Minor. It had pleased the Turk more than once to keep the guards in a good humour towards him, and the soldiers were not surprised. Besides, they cared very little whence money came, provided it got into their hands, and could be spent in drink, for they were not sober Greeks or Italians; most of them were wild barbarians, who would rather drink than eat, and rather fight than drink, as the saying goes. For nearly twenty minutes Gorlias pulled steadily upstream. Then he slackened speed, and brought the boat slowly to the foot of the tower. The windows were all dark now, and the great mass towered up into the night till the top was lost in the black sky. During the hours Gorlias had spent in fishing from the pier he had succeeded in wedging a stout oak peg between the stones; he found it at once in the dark, got out and made the boat fast to it by the painter. His bare feet clung to the sloping surface like a fly's to a smooth wall; he pulled the boat alongside the pier, holding it by the gunwale, and held up his other hand to help Zeno. But the Venetian was in no need of that, and was standing beside his companion in an instant. It was only then, a whole second after the fact, that he knew he had stepped upon something oddly soft and at the same time elastic and resisting, that lay amidships in the bottom of the boat, covered with canvas. The quick recollection was that of having unconsciously placed one foot on a human body when getting out. He had taken off his shoes, but the cloth soles of his hose were thick, and he could not feel sure of what he had touched. Besides, he had no time to lose in speculating as to what Gorlias might have in the skiff besides his lines and his coil of rope. Gorlias now got the end of the fishing-line ashore, and took it in his teeth in order to climb up the inclined plane of the pier on his hands and feet, ape-fashion. In a few seconds he had found the end of a string that hung down from the blackness above, with a small stone tied to it to keep it from being blown adrift. To this string he bent the fishing-line. Until this was done neither of the men had made the least sound that could possibly be heard above, but now Gorlias gave a signal. It was the cry of the beautiful little owl that haunts ruined houses in Italy and the East, one soft and musical note, repeated at short and regular intervals. The bird always gives it thus, but for the signal Gorlias whistled it twice each time, instead of once. No living owl ever did that, and yet it was a thousand to one that nobody would notice the difference, if any one heard him at all, except the person for whom the call was meant. He had not been whistling more than a quarter of a minute when he felt the twine passing upwards through his fingers, and then the line after it. He let the latter run through his hand to be sure that it did not foul and kink, though he had purposely chosen one that had been long in use, and he had kept it in a dry place for a week. Zeno had dropped his cloak in the stern of the boat before getting out, and he now sat at the water's edge with his hands on the moving line ready to check the end when it came, in case it were not already fast to the rope that was to follow it. But Gorlias had done that beforehand, lest any time should be lost, and presently Zeno felt the line growing taut as it began to pull on the rope itself. This had single overhand knots in it, about two feet apart, for climbing, and instead of coiling it down, Gorlias had ranged it fore and aft on the forward thwarts so that it came ashore clear. Whatever the astrologer's original profession had been, it was evident that he understood how to handle rope as well as if he had been to sea. Moreover Zeno, who was as much a sailor as a soldier, understood from the speed at which the rope was now taken up, that there was a tolerably strong person at the other end of it, high up in the topmost story of the tower. The end came sooner than he expected, and a slight noise of something catching and knocking against the inner side of the boat brought Gorlias instantly to the water's edge. 'The tail-block is fast to the end,' he whispered; 'and the other line is already rove, with the basket at one end of it. When you are aloft, you must haul up the climbing rope and make the block fast--you understand.' 'Of course,' Zeno answered, 'I have been to sea.' 'Whistle when you are ready and I will answer. As he comes down I can check the rope with a turn round a smooth stone I have found at the corner of the tower. You must come down the climbing rope at the same time, and steer the basket as well as you can with your foot.' 'Yes. Is all fast above?' Gorlias listened. 'Not yet,' he whispered. 'Wait for the signal.' It came presently, the cry of the owlet repeated, as Gorlias had repeated it. Zeno heard it and began to climb, while Gorlias steadied the rope, though there was hardly any need for that. The young Venetian walked up with his feet to the wall, taking the rope hand over hand, as if he were going up a bare pole by a gant-line. When he was twenty feet above the pier and was fast disappearing in the darkness, something moved in the boat, and a white face looked up cautiously over the gunwale. It was a woman's face. Zeno had stepped upon her with his whole weight when he was getting ashore, but she had made no sound. Her eyes tried to pierce the gloom, to follow him upwards in his dizzy ascent. Soon she could not see him any longer, nor hear the soft sound of his cloth-shod feet as he planted them against the stones. Up he went, higher and higher. Gorlias steadied the end below, keeping one foot on the block lest it should thrash about on the stones and make a noise. He could feel each of Zeno's movements along the rope; and though he had seen many feats in his life, he wondered at the wind and endurance of a man who could make such an ascent without once crooking his leg round the rope to rest and take breath. But Carlo Zeno never stopped till his feet were on the slight projecting moulding of the highest story, and his hands on the stone sill. As he drew himself up with a spring his face almost struck the chest of a large woman who was standing at the window to receive him. He saw her outline faintly, for there was a little light from one small lamp, placed on the floor in the farthest corner of the oblong room. The tower was square, but the north side of the chamber was walled off to make a space for the head of the staircase and a narrow entry. The single door was in this partition. Zeno looked round while he took breath, and he was aware of a tall man with a long beard who stood on one side of the window, and seemed inclined to flatten himself against the wall, as if he feared being seen from without, even at that height and in the dark. The woman moved a step backwards, and Carlo put one leg over the window-sill and got in. He took his skull-cap from his head and bowed low to the imprisoned Emperor before he spoke to the woman in a whisper. 'I will haul up the basket,' he said, and he laid his hands on the knotted rope to do so. But the tall man with the beard touched him on the shoulder, and spoke in a low voice. 'We must talk together,' he said. Zeno hardly turned his head, and did not stop hauling in the rope. Below, Gorlias was steering the tail-block clear of the wall, lest it should strike the stones and make a noise. 'This is no time for talking,' Zeno said. 'When your Majesty is free and in safety we can talk at leisure.' The knotted rope was coming in fast; Zeno threw it upon the floor behind him in a wide coil to keep it clear. 'Stop!' commanded the Emperor, laying one hand on the Venetian's arm. Zeno set his foot on the rope to keep it from running out, and turned to the prisoner in surprise. 'Every moment is precious,' he said. 'If we are discovered from outside the tower the game is up, and we shall be caught like rats in a trap. I have a basket at the end of this rope in which you will be quite safe from falling, if that is what makes you hesitate. Fear nothing. We are two good men, I and my companion below.' 'You are a good man indeed, to have risked your life in climbing here,' answered Johannes. He made a few steps, bending his still handsome head in thought. He limped slightly in his walk, and he was said to have only four toes on his left foot. Zeno at once continued hauling up the rope, but a moment later the Emperor stopped close beside him. 'It is of no use,' he said; 'I cannot go with you.' Zeno was thunderstruck, and stood still with the rope in his two hands. 'You will not go?' he repeated, almost stupidly. 'You will not be free, now that everything is ready?' 'I cannot. Go down your rope before there is an alarm. Take God's blessing for your generous courage, and my heartfelt thanks. I am ashamed that I should have nothing else to offer you. I cannot go.' 'But why? Why?' Carlo Zeno could not remember that he had ever been so much surprised in his life, and so are they who gather round the story-teller and listen to his tale. But it is a true one; and many years afterwards one of Carlo Zeno's grandsons, the good old Bishop of Belluno, wrote it down as he had heard it from his grandsire's lips. Moreover it is history. The imprisoned Emperor Johannes refused to leave his prison, after Zeno had risked life and limb to prepare a revolution, and had scaled the tower alone. 'Andronicus has my little son in the palace,' said the prisoner; 'if I escape he will put out the child's eyes with boiling vinegar, and perhaps mutilate him or kill him by inches. Save him first, then I will go with you.' There was something very noble in the prisoner's tone, and in the turn of his handsome head as he spoke. Zeno could not help respecting him, yet he was profoundly disappointed. He tried one argument. 'If you will come at once,' he said, 'I promise you that we shall hold the palace before daybreak, and the little prince will be as free as you.' Johannes shook his head sadly. 'The guards will kill him instantly,' he said; 'the more certainly if they see that they must fight for their lives.' 'In short, your Majesty is resolved? You will not come with me?' 'I cannot.' The Emperor turned away, and covered his face with his hands, more as if trying to concentrate his thoughts than as if in despair. 'No, I cannot,' he repeated presently. 'Save the boy first,' he repeated, dropping his hands and turning to Zeno again, 'then I will go with you.' Zeno was silent for a moment, and then spoke in a determined tone. 'Hear me, sire,' he said. 'A man does not run such risks twice, except for his own blood. You must either come with me at once, or give up the idea that I shall ever help you to escape. The boy may be in danger, but so are you yourself, and your life is worth more to this unhappy Empire than his. To-night, to-morrow, at any moment, your son Andronicus may send the executioner here, and there will be an end of you and of many hopes. You must risk your younger boy's life for your cause. I see no other way.' 'The other way is this; I will stay here and risk my own. I would rather die ten deaths than let my child be tortured, blinded, and murdered.' 'Very well,' answered Zeno; 'then I must go.' He let the knotted rope go over the sill again till it was all out, and he sat astride the window mullion ready to begin the descent. 'Cast off the rope when I whistle,' he said, 'and let it down by the line, and the line after it by the twine.' He spoke to the big woman, who was the wife of the keeper, himself a trusted captain of veterans. She nodded by way of answer. 'For the last time,' Zeno said, looking towards Johannes, 'will you come with me? There is still time.' The Emperor looked prematurely old in the faint light, and his figure was bent as he rested with one hand on the heavy table. His voice was weak too, as if he were very tired after some great effort. 'For the last time, no,' he answered. 'I am sorry. I thank you with all my heart----' Zeno did not wait for more, and his head disappeared below the window almost before the prisoner had spoken the last words. Five minutes had not elapsed since he had reached the chamber. Below, Gorlias had been surprised when he felt the second rope slack in his hand, and when the basket and block, which had been half-way up the wall, began to come down again. The astrologer could only suppose that there was an alarm within the tower, and that Zeno was getting away as fast as he could. The last written message, lowered by the yarn at dusk that evening, had been to say that the Emperor was ready, and that a red light would be shown when the captain was asleep, under the influence of the drug his wife had given him. It could not possibly occur to the astrologer that Johannes would change his mind at the very last moment. 'Take care!' Gorlias whispered quickly to the woman at his elbow, as soon as he was sure of what was happening. 'He is coming down again.' 'Alone?' The anxious inquiry answered his words in the same breath. 'Alone--yes! He is on the rope now, he is coming down, hand under hand.' The woman slipped down the inclined surface, almost fell, recovered her foothold, and nearly fell again as she sprang into the boat, and threw herself at full length upon the bottom boards. Zeno was half-way down, and before she covered herself with the canvas she glanced up and distinctly saw his dark figure descending through the gloom. She had scarcely stretched herself out when she was startled by a loud cry, close at hand. 'Phylaké! Aho--ho--o! Watch, ho! Watch, ho!' A boat had shot out of the darkness to the edge of the pier. In an instant three men had sprung ashore, and were clambering up the sloping masonry towards Gorlias. The woman stood up in Zeno's skiff, almost upsetting it, and her eyes pierced the gloom to see what was happening. Gorlias threw himself desperately against the three men, with outstretched arms, hoping to sweep them altogether into the water from a place where they had so little foothold. The woman held her breath. One of the three men, active as a monkey, dodged past the astrologer, caught the knotted rope, and began climbing it. The other two fell, their feet entangled in the line-rove through the tail-block, and with the strong man's weight behind them they tumbled headlong down the incline. With a heavy splash, and scarcely more than one for all three, Gorlias and his opponents fell into the water. There was silence then, while the other man climbed higher and higher. The woman watched in horror. In falling, the men had struck against the stem of the skiff, dragging the painter from the peg. The other boat was not moored at all, and both were now adrift on the sluggish stream. The woman steadied herself, and tried to see. The man climbed fast, and above him the dark figure moved quickly upwards. But Zeno's pursuer was fresher than he, and as quick as a cat, and gained on him. If he caught him, he might crook his leg round the knotted rope to drag Zeno down and hurl him to the ground. Still he gained, while the boats began to drift, but still the woman could make out both figures, nearer and nearer to each other. Now there were not ten feet between them. A faint cry was heard, a heavy thud on the stones, and silence again. Zeno had cut the rope below him. The woman drew a sharp breath between her closed teeth. There was no noise, now, for the man that had been as active as a cat was dead. But an instant later one of the other three was out of the water, and on the edge of the pier, panting for breath. The woman took up one of the oars, and tried to paddle with it. She thought that the man who had come up must be Gorlias, and that the other two were drowned, and she tried to get the boat to the pier again; she had never held an oar in her life, and she was trembling now. High in mid-air Zeno was hanging on what was left of the rope, slowly working his way upwards, fully fifty feet above the base of the tower. The skiff bumped against the other boat alongside, and the woman began to despair of getting nearer to the land, and tried to shove the empty boat away with her hands. The effect was to push her own skiff towards the pier, for the other was much the heavier of the two. Then, paddling a little, she made a little way. The man ashore seemed to be examining the body of the one who had been killed; it lay sprawling on the stones, the head smashed. The living one was not Gorlias; the woman could see his outline now. She was strong, and with the one oar shoved her skiff still farther from the other boat, and nearer to the pier. The man heard her, got upon his feet, and slipped down to the water's edge again. 'Hold out the end of the oar to me,' he said, 'and I will pull the boat in.' It was not the voice of Gorlias that spoke, and the woman did not obey the instructions it gave. On the contrary she tried to paddle away, lest the man should jump aboard. Strangely enough the skiff seemed to answer at once to her will, as if some unseen power were helping her. It could not be her unskilled, almost helpless movements of the oar that guided it away. But the man rose to his feet, on the lowest course of the stones, where there was a ledge, and he sprang forwards, struck the water without putting his head under, and was at the stern of the boat in a few seconds. The woman seemed fearless, for she stepped quickly over the after thwart, taking her oar with her, and a moment later she struck a desperate blow with it at the swimmer, and raised it again. She could not see him any more, and she knew that if she had struck his head he must have sunk instantly; but she waited a little longer in the stern, the oar still uplifted in both her hands. At that moment, the repeated call of the owlet came down from far above. It could only mean that Zeno had reached the upper window in safety. Then the boat rocked violently two or three times, and the woman was thrown down, sitting, in the stern sheets; she saw that a man was getting in over the bows, and was already on board. 'That was well done, Kokóna,' said the voice of Gorlias, softly. Zoë sank back in the stern, half-fainting with exhaustion, pain, and past anxiety. 'Is he safe?' she managed to ask. 'That was his call. He has reached the window again, but it was a narrow escape.' She could hardly breathe. Gorlias had taken the oars, and the skiff was moving. CHAPTER XI Zeno found the two occupants of the room terrorstruck, and standing on one side of the window, from which they had not dared to look out after the cry of alarm had been given from below. Indeed they were in a dangerous pass, unless all three of the men who had attempted to stop Zeno were dead, or if the first cry had roused the sleeping captain and guards of the tower from their drugged sleep. But Zeno's own situation was quite as bad. It was out of the question to shout to Gorlias, on the mere chance of his being still alive and on the pier. No communication was possible, and the rope was cut below. It was true that the whole of the fishing-line still lay coiled on the floor of the room, but even if it were long enough to double it would hardly bear the man's weight; and Carlo guessed that he had cut off nearly three-quarters of the knotted rope below him. There was no time to be lost either. He did not know the number of his assailants, and though he gave his signal when he reached the window, on the mere chance of being heard, he would not have trusted the answer to it if it had come. Any one could imitate such a sound after hearing it once. If he let down the remaining length of the rope by the fishing-line, and if his enemies were on the pier instead of Gorlias, they would have wit enough to knot the rope where it had been cut, and to send it up again, for him to come down by, and he would drop into their very midst. He understood all this in an instant, and without hesitation he cast off everything above, and dropped the rope and the fishing-line out of the window. He knew Gorlias well enough to be sure that he would come back before daylight and land if there were no one on the pier, and remove all traces of the attempt. 'We are all lost!' moaned the big woman. 'My hour has come,' said the Emperor Johannes in solemn terror. Thereupon he began to say his prayers, and paid no more attention to the others. Zeno took the woman by the wrist. 'We are not lost unless your husband is awake,' he said. 'Take me to him.' The captain's wife stared at him. 'There is no other way. If he is awake, you will tell him that I got into the tower, and that you have betrayed me into his hands. You will be safe at least, and I will take my chance. If he is asleep I have nothing to fear.' He drew her to the door and began to unbar it himself. She had understood that he was right, so far as her own safety was concerned, and she helped him. A horn lantern stood on the stone floor in the entry at the head of the stair, where she had left it when she had last come up. Before going down she barred the door outside as usual, and then led the way. At the first landing she opened a door as softly as she could and went in, leaving Zeno on the threshold. It was the sleeping room, and Zeno heard the captain's stertorous breathing with relief. He went in and looked at the sleeping man's face, which was congested to a dark red by the powerful drug, and Zeno thought it doubtful whether he would ever wake again. The woman, ignorant of the effects of much opium, was afraid her husband might open his eyes, and she plucked at Zeno's sleeve, anxious to get him away; but the Venetian smiled. 'He is good for twelve hours' sleep,' he said. 'Give me his cloak and helmet. If I find no one awake I will leave them at the outer gate. Otherwise I will send them to the tower in a clothes-basket to-morrow morning.' The captain's wife obeyed, less frightened than she had been at first; Zeno muffled half his face in the big cloak, and threw the end over his shoulder whence it hung down, displaying the three broad stripes of gold lace that formed the border distinctive of a captain's rank in the guards. The bright helmet had a gilt eagle for a crest, scarcely differing from that of the modern German Gardes du Corps regiment. 'Now show me the way,' Zeno said. Under the folds of the cloak he had the short broad sheath-knife ready in his grasp, and it was no bad weapon in the hand of such a fighter as Carlo Zeno. The captain's wife led the way with the lantern. [Illustration: The captain's wife obeyed, less frightened than she had been at first.] At the foot of the next flight of stairs she almost stumbled over the sentinel, half-seated on the lowest step in a drunken sleep; his shaggy head had fallen forwards on his breast, and his legs stuck straight out before him, wide apart, like the legs of a wooden doll. His hands lay open with the palms upwards, one on his knee, the other on the step beside him; and his helmet, which had rolled off his head, had happened to stop just between his feet, the right side up, and facing him, as if it were watching him in his slumber like a living thing. The story they had now reached contained the living room of the captain and his wife, and no sentinel was needed higher up in the tower. An iron door, fastened on the inside, cut off the descent, and had to be opened for Zeno to pass. But being constantly in use the lock was well oiled, and the bolts slipped back almost without noise. Nevertheless, as he followed his companion down the next flight, Zeno drew up the folds of the cloak on his right arm till the edge barely covered the drawn knife in his hand. They reached the next story below, where the upper guard-room was. The door was half-open, and a lamp was burning within, but as the window was over the great court of Blachernæ no light had been visible from the water. Zeno heard voices, and caught sight of two guards carousing at the end of an oak table. At the sound of footsteps one of the men rose quickly, but staggered when he tried to walk to the door. 'Who goes there?' he called out, steadying himself by the door-post, and looking out. The captain's wife had the presence of mind to hold up the lantern, so that the light fell full upon the helmet Zeno wore. Instantly the soldier tried to straighten himself to an attitude of attention, with his hands by his sides. But this was too much for his unstable balance, and he reeled backwards half across the room within, till he struck the table behind him, and tumbled down with a clatter of accoutrements and a rattling of the horn drinking-cups that were thrown to the ground. His companion, who was altogether too drunk even to leave his seat, broke into a loud idiotic laugh at his accident. 'You have done your share well, Kyría,' said Zeno, as he followed her again. 'The Emperor's friends could have brought him down by the stairs in triumph without being stopped.' 'You are not out of the palace precincts yet,' answered the captain's wife in a warning tone. She went on, treading more softly as she descended, and carrying the lantern low lest she or her companion should stumble over another sleeping sentinel; but the staircase and the door that led into the court were deserted, for the captain was a very exact man, and had his supper at the same hour every evening, and went to bed soon afterwards like an honest citizen, after setting the watch and locking the iron door of his own lower landing. In two years he had never once come down the tower after sunset. The consequence was that the guards, who were mostly rough barbarians from the Don country and the shores of the Black Sea, did as they pleased, or as their lieutenant pleased; for he found it pleasant to spend his nights in another part of the palace, and was extremely popular with his men, because they were thus enabled to go to bed like good Christians and sleep all night. All this the captain's wife knew well enough. Her apprehension was for what might happen to Zeno between leaving the tower and passing the great gate, which was the only way to get out of the fortified precincts. The wide courtyard was very dark, but there were lights here and there in the windows of the buildings that surrounded it on three sides, the great mass of the palace on the right, the barracks of the guards along the wall to the left, and the main post at the great gate in front with the buildings on each side of it, some occupied by slaves and some used as stables. Zeno wished that he had stripped one of the sleeping soldiers and had put on his dress, for he had been informed of the captain's habits, and knew that the disguise was no longer a safe one after leaving the tower. Indeed it was a chief part of the captain's duty never to go out after dark, on any excuse, and he apparently made sure of obeying this permanent order by going to bed early and getting up late. For the rest, he had always left the personal care of his prisoner to his wife, judging that her stout middle-age and fiery cheeks sufficiently protected his domestic honour. She had been young and very pretty once, it was true, but the captain did not know that Johannes had even seen her then, much less did he guess that many years ago, when the Emperor was a handsome young prince and she was a lovely girl in the old Empress's train, she had worshipped him and he had condescended to accept her admiration for a few weeks. But this was the truth, as Zeno's grandson the bishop very clearly explains. She left her lantern just inside the door and came out with Carlo into the open air. After walking a few steps she laid her hand on his arm, stopped, looked round, and listened. As yet they had not exchanged two words about the situation, and were far from sure that the watch which had detected Carlo from the water and had failed to catch him, had not come round by land to the palace gate to give the alarm. Zeno slipped the cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it round the helmet, so that the captain's wife could carry both conveniently. 'It is hopeless,' she whispered, as she took them. 'This morning he promised that he would leave the prison if you could bring him out. He has often spoken to me as he spoke to you this evening--he loves the boy dearly; but I was sure that he had made up his mind to risk everything, else I would not have shown the red light.' 'After all,' Zeno observed, 'it is just as well that he would not come, since we were seen, though I really believe Gorlias was too much for the men who almost caught us. He and I together could certainly have settled them all--there were only three. I saw them distinctly when they first jumped ashore, and one was killed by the fall when I cut the rope. Gorlias silenced the other two, for if they were alive there would have been an alarm here by this time.' 'Yes,' the woman answered. 'But some one must have betrayed us. We cannot try that way again.' 'I shall not try that, or any other way again!' Zeno said with emphasis. 'In the name of the Evangelist, why should I risk my neck to free a man who prefers to be a prisoner?' 'The wonder is that you are alive this time!' 'It will not even be safe to communicate by the thread again. Will you take him a message?' 'As well as I can remember it.' 'Tell him that the next time he asks my help he must send me, by the same messenger, a deed giving Tenedos to Venice, signed and sealed. Otherwise I will not stir!' 'Shall I tell him that?' 'Yes. Tell him so from me. And now, go back, Kyría, and thank you for your guidance and your lantern in those dark stairs.' 'How shall you pass the gate?' asked the captain's wife. She spoke anxiously, for Zeno was a handsome man, and she had seen how brave he was. 'I do not know,' he answered, 'but one of two things must happen.' 'What things?' 'Either I shall get out or I shall never see daylight again! I shall not let myself be taken alive to be impaled in the Hippodrome, I assure you. Thank you again, and good-night.' She drew back into the shadow of the tower door and watched the handsome young man with the peculiar half-motherly, half-sentimental anxiety of the middle-aged woman, who was a flirt in her youth and turned the heads of just such men, who knows that she is grown fat and ugly and can never turn the head of another, but who has preserved many tender and pleasant recollections of all the sex. Zeno did not walk straight towards the gate, though it was easily distinguished from the adjacent buildings by the greater number of its lights. He crossed the wide court diagonally to the right, in the direction of the stables, till he was near enough to see distinctly any one who chanced to come under the rays of one of the scattered lamps that burned here and there in doorways and open windows. Before long he saw a trooper of the guards emerging rather unsteadily out of the darkness into one of these small circles of light. Zeno could not help smiling to himself at the idea that there was hardly one sober man awake among the guards that night, and that they had all drunk themselves stupid with his money. He overtook the man in half-a-dozen strides, and spoke to him in a low voice. 'Hi! comrade! You who are still perfectly sober, help a friend who is very drunk!' The man stopped, steadied himself, and answered with ponderous gravity. 'Perfectly--hic--hic--sober!' 'I wish I were!' replied Zeno. 'The truth is, I am exceedingly drunk, though I do not show it. Wine only affects my brains, never my legs or my tongue. It is a very strange thing!' 'Very--cu--hic--rious!' responded the soldier, trying to see his interlocutor clearly, by screwing up his eyes. 'Extraordinarily cuhicrious, as you justly observe,' Zeno answered gravely. 'But the fact is----' 'Excuse me--hic,' interrupted the soldier. 'Are you one man--hic--or two men?' 'One man,' Zeno answered. 'Only one, and so drunk that I have quite forgotten the password.' 'Sec--hic--ret,' hiccoughed the man. 'Password secret,' he repeated, with a tremendous effort. 'Here is a gold piece, my dear friend. You will help a comrade in trouble.' The man took the money eagerly, and tried to put it into his wallet. To do so he had to bend his head down so as to see the thongs that fastened it. It took a long time to find them. 'Just give me the password before you do that,' Zeno said in a coaxing tone. 'Password?' The man looked up stupidly. The effort of undoing the thongs had been too much for him, and had sent the blood to his head. He staggered against the Venetian, and tried to speak. After many efforts he got the words out suddenly. 'Drunk, by Moses!' he cried, quite distinctly, as he fell in a heap at Zeno's feet. In his vexation Zeno could have kicked the stupid mass of humanity across the great yard, but he was far too wise to waste his time so unprofitably. Instead of kicking him he stepped across him, thrust his hands under the unconscious man's armpits, hove him up like a sack of flour, got him over his shoulder, and carried him to the open door of the nearest stable, whence the light came. Five horses stood or lay in their stalls, but the sixth stall was vacant, and there was fresh straw in it. Zeno threw the man down there, and looked round, to see that no one else was in the place. He hesitated a moment as to whether he should shut the door, but decided that to do so might attract the attention of a sober man, if there were any about, which was doubtful. The trooper was now sound asleep, and it was the work of a few moments to pull off his boots of soft leather and slip them on, for Zeno had left his own in the boat, and had walked in his cloth hose; he took off the soldier's sword-belt and tunic next, the latter of rich scarlet cloth trimmed with heavy silver lace, the belt being entirely covered with silver scales. The drunken sleeper grunted with satisfaction when he felt himself relieved of his useless clothes, and settled himself comfortably in the straw while Zeno put on the tunic over his own buff jerkin and drew the belt tight round his waist, settled the man's tall Greek cap on his own head at the proper angle, as the troopers wore it, and threw the military cloak over his arm. He could now easily pass himself for a trooper at the gate, and a man who has been a soldier is rarely at a loss amongst soldiers, especially if he wears a uniform. In consideration of what he had taken, Zeno, who was an honest man of business, left the man his wallet with the piece of gold and anything else it might contain, and after carefully removing a few wisps of straw that clung to his clothes, he went towards the door of the stable. His plan was to saunter to the gate and loiter there till a chance offered of opening the small night-postern in the great door, which he had noticed in passing the palace when the gates were open. The fact of his being sober when almost every one else was more or less intoxicated, would give him a great advantage. But as he turned from the sleeper and walked along the line from the empty stall, which was the last, his eye fell on the saddles and bridles, neatly arranged on stout pegs that projected from the walls, each set opposite the stall of the horse to which it belonged. He peered out into the wide court, and listened for the sound of voices. From very far away he heard the echo of a drinking chorus, less loud than the noise made behind him by one of the horses that had a fancy for a mouthful of hay just then, and was chewing it conscientiously as only animals can chew. All was very quiet outside. Zeno changed his plan, turned back into the stable, and began to saddle the horse farthest from the door. He did not mean to ride far, else he would have picked out his mount with all the judgement he possessed. There was but a dash to make, and it was far more important that no passing trooper should see him in the act of putting on saddle and bridle than that he should have the best horse under him afterwards. Besides, they were all big, hay-fed animals, sleek and sleepy, mostly white Tunisians, and much more fit for a procession than a campaign. When he had finished, he led the charger past the other stalls, stopping just before he reached the door to put out the oil lamp that hung by the entrance. This done, he slipped his arm through the bridle and left the stable. He struck across the deserted court towards the palace, until he was almost in the middle of the yard, and opposite the great gate, towards which he looked steadily for some seconds, trying to make out, by the uncertain light that dimly illuminated it from within, whether the doors under the arch were open or shut. There was just a possibility that they might be open. It was worth trying for; and after all, if they were barred, he was sure that he could impose upon the sentinels to open them. A man accustomed to command does not doubt that he must be obeyed when he asserts himself. Zeno mounted the big horse, which was as quiet as any old circus hack in the Hippodrome, trained to let a dancing-girl skip the rope on his broad back. His rider put him from a walk to a canter, and from a canter to a thundering gallop that roused echoes all round the court. As he came near he saw that the doors were shut, but he did not slacken speed till he was almost upon the startled sentinels. Then he drew rein suddenly, as was the practice of horsemanship in those days, and the great Tunisian threw himself back on his haunches with outstretched forefeet, while Zeno called out to the watch. 'On the Emperor's service!' he shouted. 'The gates, and quickly!' The sentinels were tolerably sober, for they were not to get their full share of the flood of wine that was flowing till their guard was relieved. But they could hardly be blamed for obeying Zeno's imperative command. It was not likely that a guardsman of their troop who wished to slip out of barracks for a night's amusement would dress himself in full uniform and come galloping and shouting to the gate, nor that any trooper would dare to pretend that he rode on the Emperor's business if it were not true. The two sentinels therefore did not hesitate, but set their long cavalry lances upright against the walls on either side, took down the bar, and laid hold of the ponderous gates, each man taking one and throwing himself backwards with all his weight to move it. When once started, the doors swung slowly but easily backwards. Zeno sat motionless in the saddle, ready to dash forward as soon as there was room for him to pass. He had halted just far enough away to allow the doors to swing clear of his horse's head as they were pulled inward. It was an anxious moment. A second more and there would be space between the yawning gates. But that second had not yet passed when a tall officer in scarlet rushed shouting from the open door of the guard-house, and seized Zeno's bridle. 'Stop him!' yelled the lieutenant. 'Shut the gates!' The two soldiers did their best to obey instantly, but the leaves of the gate were of cypress wood four inches thick, and covered with bronze, and were swinging back faster now under the impulse they had received. It was impossible to check them suddenly, and the order was hardly spoken when Zeno saw that there was room to ride through. He would have given his fortune for a pair of Arab spurs at that moment, but he struck the corners of his heels at the horse's sides with all his might, and almost lifted him by the bridle at the same time. The big Tunisian answered the call upon his strength better than the rider had dared to hope; he gathered himself and lifted his forequarters, shaking his head savagely to get rid of the hands that grasped the off rein close to the bit, and then he dashed forwards, straight between the doors, throwing the officer to the ground and dragging him violently away in the powerful stride of his heavy gallop. Seeing what had happened the sentinels started in pursuit at full speed, following the sound of the charger's shoes on the cobble-stones rather than anything they could see, for it was as dark as pitch outside. The officer, who was very active and seemed indifferent to the frightful risk he ran, still clung to the bridle, regained his feet, ran nimbly by the side of the galloping horse, and seemed about to spring up and close with Zeno to drag him from the saddle. Zeno had no weapon within reach now, for his knife was in his own belt, under the belted tunic he wore over his clothes, and he could not possibly get at it. But the officer was unarmed, too, as he had sprung from his couch, and was at a great disadvantage on foot. They dashed on into the darkness of the broad street. Zeno bent down, and tried to get at his adversary's collar with his right hand, but the officer dodged him and jerked the bridle with desperate energy, bringing the Tunisian to a stand after one more furious plunge. At the same instant Zeno heard the footsteps of the two guardsmen running up behind, and he realised that the odds were three to one against him, and that he had no weapon in his hand. The troopers, of course, had their Greek sabres. If he could not escape, he must either be taken alive or cut to pieces on the spot, with no defence but his bare hands. He did not hesitate. The officer, dragging down the charger's head by his weight to stop him, was almost on his knees for a moment, on the off side, of course, and the soldiers had not yet come up. Zeno dropped the reins, sprang from the saddle, and ran for his life. CHAPTER XII Zoë sat in the dark just within the open doorway of Zeno's house, before the marble steps. She was shivering with cold, now that the danger to herself was over, and she was bent with pain, though she scarcely knew she was hurt; for she was conscious only of her anxiety for Zeno. If he got out of the tower and reached his home, he would certainly come in by that door, since he had left it open, and the one on the land side was barred; and there was a way of coming round the house to the water's edge without entering the gate or passing through the fore-court. Zeno had unconsciously stepped upon her body with his whole weight in getting out, when she lay hidden in the bottom of the boat, but she would rather have died than have made a sound or winced under the pressure. And now her side hurt her, and the pain ran down to her knee and her foot, so that she had hardly been able to walk after Gorlias had helped her ashore. It had been impossible to hinder her from getting in, when she had run down to the landing while Zeno was changing his clothes; there had not been time, and she had not waited to argue the question, but had simply whispered to Gorlias that she was going, and that he must hide her as well as he could, and say nothing. He was not a man to be easily surprised, and he reflected that as she was in the secret, and as it was her influence that had decided Zeno to act at last, she might possibly be useful; as indeed she afterwards proved herself to be. Besides, Gorlias thought it likely that Zeno had told her all his plans, although he did not wish to take her with him; for the astrologer was not at all clear as to the relations existing between the master and the slave. She sat alone and shivering in the dark. Gorlias had left her and had hastened back to the foot of the tower to remove all traces of the unsuccessful attempt before daybreak, by throwing the dead body into the water with a weight, and carrying off the gear that had been left lying on the sloping pier. Zoë thought he must be of iron. He had been some time in the water in his clothes, and had probably been more or less bruised in the struggle, and in rolling down the stones, if not by the fall at the end. But he seemed as calm and collected as ever, and apparently had no idea of drying himself before morning. Zoë thought of him only very vaguely as of a person connected with Zeno, round whom alone the whole world had moved since she had known that he loved her; and in her imagination she followed him on after he had reached the tower window the second time and had whistled the call that told her he was safe so far. It was agonising to think of his danger. She did not believe that he could possibly escape from within the prison through the palace precincts; in some way or other he must succeed in climbing down the wall again, and Gorlias would find him and bring him home. But when she had said this to the astrologer, he had shaken his head. There were good reasons why Zeno should not attempt the perilous descent that night, when there had just been an alarm from below of which it was not possible to let him know the result. Moreover, no one knew whether the man whom Zoë had struck had sunk and was drowned, or had parried the blow with his arm and had succeeded in swimming ashore. Neither Gorlias nor Zoë knew that yet, and they might never know it. She waited, but not a sound disturbed the silence of the chilly night. Within the house every one was sleeping; the two little slave-girls, curled up on their carpet in the corner, where Zoë had left them, would not wake till dawn; Omobono slept the sleep of the just in his small bedroom behind the counting-house, dreaming of the mysteries of four toes and five toes, and quenching his insatiable curiosity at last in the overflowing fountain of fancy. As for the servants and slaves, all slumbered profoundly, after the way of their kind. But Zeno did not come. Zoë crouched in the doorway, and drew the skirts of her long Greek coat round her little white feet more than half instinctively, for she did not care if she died of the cold, since he did not come. A mad longing seized her to go out into the city to look for him in the dark and silent streets; he might be lying somewhere, wounded and alone, perhaps left for dead; if she did not come upon him she would push on to the great gate of Blachernæ; and she was sure that she could find the way, though it was far. She would slip in, unnoticed by the sentries; she would pass herself for a woman of the palace, where she had often been taken by Kyría Agatha in the happy days; she remembered where the great tower stood in the corner of the palace yard, the farthest corner to the right, and she could almost see its door, though indeed she had never noticed one. He was somewhere behind it, somewhere in there, above or below ground, caught in the trap, waiting for the dawn of his dying day. For Andronicus would not let him live. If he was taken, his hours were numbered. He must die the death Michael Rhangabé had died; there was none more cruel. As she thought of it, there alone in the cold, a sharp pain bit at her heart, and in the gloom she could no longer make out the white marble steps, the chequered black-and-white pavement, nor the last unextinguished lights of Pera reflected in the water; she saw nothing, and she sank back against the step behind her, fainting and unconscious. She lay there alone, quite still; but he did not come. When she opened her eyes again she thought she had fallen asleep, and was angry with herself at the thought of having rested while he was in danger of his life. She would go out to find him, come what might. Then she tried to get upon her feet, and was startled to find that she could not. Chilled to the bone and bruised as she was, she could not move her limbs, and she wondered in terror whether she were paralysed. But she was brave still, and after a time she managed to turn on one side, and with her hands on the cold step she laboriously got upon her knees. Sensation came back and pain with it, and presently she was able to raise herself by holding the edge of the door, first on one knee, then on her feet. But that was all, and she knew that she could do no more. Perhaps she might crawl upstairs by and by, after resting a little. She stood still a long time, holding the door and hesitating, for in her intense anxiety it seemed impossible to think of giving up and going to bed. He must come. It would be late, it might be daylight, but he must come; for if he came not, that could only mean that he was taken, and if he was taken he must die. Again the pain bit savagely at her heart, but she set her lips and grasped the door with both hands, and refused to let herself faint. She could at least rouse Omobono and the household to go out and search for the master. She had almost let go of the door to make the first step forward, when the counter-thought checked her. The attempt to free the Emperor had been made very secretly; if she called the secretary, the servants, the slaves, she would be revealing that secret, and if, by some miracle, Zeno were still free and safe, some one might betray him. Some one must have betrayed him already, else the watch would not have come upon him exactly at the most critical moment. The three men had been lurking near, waiting till he was on the rope the second time, and expecting to catch him in the very act of bringing out the prisoner. Who was the traitor? Most probably some one in the house. It would not be wise to call the servants, after all. The hopelessness of it all came over the lonely girl now, and she almost let herself sink down again upon the steps to wait till daylight, if need be, for the awful news that was sure to reach her only too soon. Gorlias would bring it, and no one else. But she was too proud to give way altogether, unless she fainted outright. It was torture, but she would bear it, as he would if he were taken. Perhaps at that very moment they were questioning him before Andronicus, twisting his handsome limbs till the joints cracked, or holding red-hot irons close to his blistering feet. He would set his teeth and turn white, but he would not speak; he would be torn piecemeal and die, but his tormentors would not get a word from him, not a syllable. Again and again, she felt the pain in imagination; but she wished that she could indeed feel it for him, and be in his place at that moment, if he were suffering. The pain would be less, even the pain of the rack and the glowing irons, than the agony of being powerless to help him. Now, the time seemed endless; now, again, an hour passed quickly in a waking dream, wherein Zeno was vividly before her, and she lived again the moments that had taught her the truth in the touch of his lips. Then, the world was dark once more and she was alone and shivering, and mad with anxiety for the one living thing she loved. He did not come. The northern stars sank to the west and he did not come; they touched the horizon, yet he did not come; an icy breath foreran the coming dawn, and still he came not, but still Zoë waited. Then the stars faded, and the sky was less black, and she thought day was coming; but it was the faint light of the waning moon rising above the Bosphorus. It was not light, now, but the thick darkness had become transparent; it was possible to see through it, and Zoë saw a skiff come silently alongside the landing. It was Gorlias; he moored the craft quickly and came up the steps. Zoë had recognised his outline, because she expected him, and she made a step to meet him, though it hurt her very much to move. He came quickly and securely, as men do who can see at night, like cats and wild animals; when he was near, Zoë even fancied that his eyes emitted a faint light of their own in the dark, but her imagination was no doubt disturbed by her bodily pain and terrible mental anxiety. 'Has he not come yet?' Gorlias asked in a low tone. The question could only mean that Zeno was taken, and Zoë grasped the astrologer's arm in sudden fear. 'He is lost!' she exclaimed. 'They will kill him to-morrow!' 'It is not easy to kill Carlo Zeno,' answered Gorlias, rubbing his stiffened hands, and then slowly pulling each finger in succession till the joints cracked. 'He is not dead yet,' he added. 'Not yet!' echoed Zoë despairingly. 'No,' said Gorlias, 'for he got out of the palace.' 'Got out? You are sure?' Zoë could have screamed for joy; the revulsion was almost too sudden. 'Yes, I am sure of that. There is a search for him in all the quarters about the palace. When I had cleared everything away below the tower, I dropped downstream to a quiet place I know, and went ashore to learn what I could. The great gate of Blachernæ was open, the court was full of lights, and the guards had been called out. Half of them were reeling about, still very drunk, but I met many that were more sober, searching the streets and lanes with lanterns. I lingered till the same party found me twice and looked at me suspiciously, and then I slipped away again and came here. I do not believe any of them know whom they are looking for; they have only been told that some one has broken out of the palace, I suppose. That made me think that Zeno had come quietly home, quite sure that he had not been recognised.' Gorlias told his story in the low, monotonous tone peculiar to him, which seemed to express the most perfect indifference to anything that might happen. But Zoë cared nothing for his way of telling what was just then the best possible news. Zeno was not safe yet, but she knew him well enough to feel sure that if he had not been taken within the palace, he had little to fear. Sooner or later he would come home, as if nothing had happened. Gorlias understood her sigh of relief. 'You must go in and rest, Kokóna,' he said, and he quietly pushed her towards the door. 'I will watch till daylight in the boat, in case he should come and need anything.' She could hardly walk, and he now noticed her lameness for the first time, and asked the cause of it. 'He stepped on me when I was lying under the canvas,' she answered. 'But it is nothing,' she added quietly. 'I hardly felt anything at first.' 'I will carry you,' said Gorlias. Before she could prevent him, he had lifted her in his arms and was carrying her into the house. He knew the way up to her apartment, having been to see her there, and he stepped easily and surely with his burden, his bare feet hardly making any sound on the marble steps. She lay across his arms like a thing without weight, borne along as a maid carries a fresh gown that she is afraid of ruffling. But the man's arms and clothes were wet and cold, and even his breath chilled her. Her nerves were overwrought, and she was foolishly frightened now. The stairs were very dark, and the touch of the man who carried her was like that of a wet monster of night, cold and horribly strong, holding her and carrying her in his vast arms as the autumn night wind whirls the leaves along. He never paused for breath, he never stopped to try and see the steps under his feet; he only went on and up, up, up, till she fancied she was not in Zeno's house, but in some high and mysterious tower to which she had been suddenly transported by an awful being from another world who was taking her to the top and would hurl her from the highest turret into space. But now Gorlias stood still and set her on her feet at her own door, steadying her by her shoulders, and guiding her in, for he could see the ray of light that crept out between the curtain and the doorpost of the inner entrance. He lifted the heavy stuff and still supported her with his other hand. After being so long in the dark the light of the little lamps was dazzling, though they were burning low. Three or four of them had already gone out, and the acrid smell of the burnt-out olive-oil and the singed wicks hung in the air. [Illustration: Saw her sink down there exhausted, and draw a heavy silk shawl across her body.] Gorlias watched Zoë while she limped over the thick carpet to the divan, and he saw her sink down there exhausted, and draw a heavy silk shawl across her body. 'Thank you,' she sighed, as her weary head pressed the pillow at last. But he had already dropped the curtain again and was gone, and almost at the same instant she shut her eyes and fell asleep. Gorlias reached the bottom of the stairs without waking any one, closed the door, which he could not fasten, and got into his boat to wait for Zeno until daybreak, and also to watch lest any one should try to enter the house. But no one came, neither Zeno, nor any messenger from him, nor any stealthy thief; and at last the dawn rose behind Constantinople and dissolved the night, and the poor waning moon had not much light left and almost went out altogether as the day broke. Then Gorlias drew his oars inboard, and laid them across the boat before him, leaning his elbows on them and resting his chin upon his folded hands, like a man in deep thought; and he let the craft drift slowly away towards the Bosphorus, into the morning mist. Also, the dawn crept into the house between the half-closed shutters of Zoë's room and made the lingering flame of the last lamp seem but a smoky little yellow point in the cold clearness; and the girl's pale face, that had taken a golden tinge from the lamplight, now turned as white as silver. Also, the coming sun waked Omobono, and he sat up in bed and gravely rubbed his eyes, quite unaware that anything had happened during the night; and it roused the slaves and the servants, and presently all the house was astir; and Yulia and Lucilla got up too and came softly and stood beside Zoë, who did not stir, and they wondered at her deep sleep and at the weariness of her face, and at the look of pain all about her mouth. But where Zeno was the light did not enter; for dawn and sunset, and noon and midnight were all alike there. CHAPTER XIII When Zeno slipped from his borrowed charger and ran for his life towards that part of the square that looked darkest, he had no time to choose the direction he would afterwards take, nor to think of anything but covering the ground at the greatest possible speed without stumbling over an unseen obstacle. On those singular occasions when a perfectly brave man has no choice but to run, there is not much time to spare. The young Venetian strained his strength and his wind to get as far as he could from his pursuers in the shortest possible time, and he was so successful that he was out of their reach almost before they were aware that he had fled. At first he had run straight across the wide open space before Blachernæ; he had then found the entrance to a street which he had followed for about fifty yards, and he had turned a corner to his left without meeting any one; he had rushed on without pausing till he judged it time to double again and had then turned to the right. A few steps farther on, he stopped short and listened, believing himself alone and not at all sure where he was. Suddenly a light flashed in his face, very near him. 'Is it time?' asked a low voice in Greek, and the lantern was closed again, leaving him dazzled. Accident, or his fate, had taken him into the very midst of the men he had enlisted in the cause of the revolution, to storm the palace before daybreak. They had waited two hours and were impatient, and even before Zeno answered the question they saw that matters had gone ill with him. 'There is an alarm,' he said hurriedly. 'I barely got away. Disperse quickly, and get to your quarters, all of you! I will let you know when we can do it.' A murmur of discontent came from the invisible crowd of soldiers. Zeno knew them to be a desperate crew, who would hold him responsible for failure, and would not thank him for success. 'We must separate at once,' he said calmly. 'I thank you for having been ready. If possible, we will meet a week from to-night.' He did not choose to let them know that Johannes himself had refused to quit the tower, and he was about to leave them, meaning to find his way home alone, when the sound of feet moving behind him, and of men whispering together told him that he was surrounded on all sides by the soldiers. Then some one spoke in a tone of authority. 'You must stay with us,' the voice said. 'You have our lives in your hand, and we cannot let you go. It might suit your interests to give us up to the Emperor any day.' Seeing his liberty threatened, Zeno laid his hand to the knife at the back of his belt and was about to try and break his way through. In the dark, a man with a drawn weapon in his hand easily inspires terror in a crowd. But it was clear that the soldiers had determined beforehand what to do, for they closed in upon him instantly, and his arm was caught by a dozen hands when he was in the very act of drawing his knife. He was held by twenty men, as it seemed to him, who all took hold of him and lifted him from the ground, not very roughly, but irresistibly. He had no chance against so many; Gorlias Pietrogliant himself could have done nothing, and he was far stronger than Zeno, stronger perhaps than any man in Constantinople. Zeno knew that it would be worse than useless to shout for help; at his first cry he would most likely be strangled by men whose own lives were more or less at stake. They carried him quickly along the street and through unfamiliar and narrow ways which he could hardly have recognised even in broad daylight, much less at night. They turned sharp corners to the right, to the left, to the right again, and he thought he could distinguish the broken outlines of a ruined wall against the faint greyness of the ink-and-water sky. Then all was dark for an instant, and he felt that his bearers were pausing at some obstacle or difficulty. The lantern flashed again, and he saw a rough vault above him; there was a big cobweb just above his head, and a loathsome fat spider jumped out of a crevice and ran along the threads till it disappeared as if by magic in the very middle of the web. He saw it in an instant in the sudden light as some one held up the lantern to show the way. Such things take hold of the memory and stick to it afterwards, as little burs fasten themselves upon one's clothes in autumn fields. Besides, though Zeno was one of the bravest men of any age, he detested fat spiders, and was very nearly afraid of them. He felt himself carried down an inclined plane at a swinging rate; the air smelt of dry earth, and presently it grew much warmer, though it was not at all close. It seemed a long time until the men stopped, set him on his feet, and left their hold on him. The man who had acted as the leader now pushed the others aside, and stood before him, a broad-shouldered Tartar with a huge tawny beard, dressed in leather and wearing a breastplate embossed with the Roman eagle. Zeno knew him well; he was a Mohammedan, like many soldiers of fortune in the Greek army at that time, his name was Tocktamish, and he had been with Zeno in Patras. He spoke a barbarous dialect, compounded of Greek and Italian. 'Messer Zeno,' he said, 'we are not going to hurt you, but we think it better for your own safety to keep you here for a while, till everything is quiet again. Do you understand?' 'Perfectly,' Zeno answered, with a laugh. 'Nothing could be clearer! You naturally suppose that if I found myself in danger I would turn evidence against you to save myself, and you propose to make that impossible.' Tocktamish pretended to be hurt. 'How can you think that I could take my old leader for a traitor, sir?' he asked. 'The idea would occur naturally to a man of your intelligence,' Zeno answered, laughing again. 'Listen to me, man. I am a soldier, and I do not take you for a flight of angels or heavenly doves settling round me for my consolation. You are an infernal deal more like a pack of wolves! So let us be plain, as wolves generally are when they are hungry. You joined me because you hoped to be plundering the palace by this time. As that has failed, you want something instead. You know very well that I am not the man to betray a comrade, and that if I am free I shall probably get Johannes out of his prison in the end. But you expect something now. How much do you want?' The Tartar looked down sheepishly and passed his thumb round the lower edge of his corselet, backwards and forwards, as if he were slowly polishing the steel. 'Come,' continued Zeno, 'what is the use of hanging back? As I could not succeed in turning you all into patriots to-night and regenerators of your country, you have, of course, turned yourselves into bandits; you have got me a prisoner, and you want a ransom. How much is it to be?' Tocktamish still hesitated, feeling very much ashamed of himself before his old captain. 'Well, sir, you see--there are eight hundred of us--and----' 'And if any one gets less than the rest he will sell all your skins to Andronicus for the balance,' laughed Zeno. 'Quite right, too! I love justice above all things.' 'Then give us ten ducats each,' cried the clear voice of a Greek from the background. 'Ten ducats apiece will make eight thousand,' said Zeno. 'I am sorry, but I have not so much money at my disposal.' 'You can borrow,' answered the Greek. 'I am afraid not, my friend.' He turned to the Tartar leader again. 'You are a fool, Tocktamish,' he said calmly. 'As long as you keep me here I cannot get money at all. Do you suppose that we merchants put away thousands of ducats in strong boxes under our beds? If we did that, you would have broken into our houses long ago, to help yourselves!' 'What promise will you make, sir?' inquired the Tartar, beginning to waver. But half-a-dozen voices protested. 'No promises!' they cried. 'Let him send you for the money!' 'You hear them?' said Tocktamish. 'Yes,' answered Zeno, 'I hear them. Their nonsense will not change facts. If you had the souls of mice in your miserable bodies,' he continued, turning to the men with a contemptuous little laugh, 'you would come with me now and seize the palace. The gates are open, and the guards are all beastly drunk. There will be more than eight thousand ducats to divide there!' The men were silent; many shook their heads. 'The moment is passed,' answered the Tartar, speaking for them. 'The whole city is roused by this time.' 'We shall have so many more good men to help us, then,' Zeno said. 'Not that we need any one. A handful could do the work.' 'Send for the money!' cried the voice of the Greek again. 'I have told you that I have not got it,' Zeno answered. 'If you have nothing more sensible to say, go to your quarters and let me sleep.' 'Pleasant dreams!' jeered the Greek; and several men laughed. 'I hope my dreams will be pleasant, for I am extremely sleepy,' Zeno answered carelessly. 'If you cut my throat before I wake you will get nothing at all, not even my funeral expenses! Now good-night, and be off!' 'We had better leave him,' Tocktamish said, pushing the nearest men away. 'You will get nothing at present, and it is impossible to frighten him. But he cannot get out, as you know. It is for our own safety, sir,' he added, changing his tone as he addressed Zeno. 'We cannot let you out till the city is quiet again, but you shall lack nothing. There are two cloaks for you to sleep on and for covering yourself, and I will bring you food and drink, and anything you want, in the morning.' Zeno had found time to look about him during the conversation, as far as the light of the lanterns and the men who crowded upon him allowed him to see. He had understood very soon that he was not in the cellar of a ruined house, as he had at first supposed, but in one of those great disused cisterns, of which there are several in Constantinople, and of which two may still be seen. Centuries had passed since there had been water in this one, and the dust lay thick on the paved floor. Two or three score columns of grey marble supported the high vaulted roof, in which Zeno guessed that there was no longer any visible opening to the outer air. Yet air there was, in abundance, for it entered by the narrow entrance through which Zeno had been carried in, and probably found its way out through the disused aqueduct which had once supplied the water, and which still communicated with some distant exit. Zeno could only guess at this from his experience of fortresses, which always contained some similar cistern; every one he had seen was provided with openings, almost always both at the top; a few had staircases in order that men might more conveniently go down to clean them when they were empty. His captors left him reluctantly at the bidding of their chief. They set one lantern against a pillar and filed out, carrying away the other. Zeno listened to their departing footsteps for a moment, when the last man had gone out, and then he went quickly to the entrance and listened again. In two or three minutes he heard what he expected; a heavy door creaked and was shut with a loud noise that boomed down the inclined passage. Then came another sound, which was not that of bolt or bar, and was worse to hear. The men were rolling big loose stones against the door to keep it shut--two, three, more, a dozen at least, a weight no one man could push outward. Then there was no more noise, and Zeno was alone. His situation was serious, and his face was very thoughtful as he went back to the lantern and picked up one of the two cloaks Tocktamish had left him. He put it on and drew it closely round him, for he was beginning to feel cold in spite of the heavy guardsman's tunic he wore over his own clothes. He thought of Arethusa, as he called Zoë; she had been in his mind constantly, and most of all in each of the moments of danger through which he had passed since he had left her. He thought of her lying awake on her divan in the soft light of the small lamps, waiting to hear his footsteps on the landing below her window, then falling gently asleep out of sheer weariness, to dream of him; starting in her rest, perhaps, as she dreamt that he was in peril, but smiling again, without opening her eyes, when the vision changed, and he held her in his arms once more. He little guessed what that yielding something beneath the canvas had been, on which he had pressed his foot so heavily when he had stepped ashore. She was happily ignorant, he fancied, of the succession of hairbreadth escapes through which he had passed unhurt so far. What weighed most on his mind, after all, was the thought that when he met her he should have to tell her that he had failed. But he was not thinking of her only as he sat there, for his own situation stared him in the face, and he could not think of Arethusa without wondering whether he was ever to see her again. He had heard those big stones rolled to the door, and something told him that neither Tocktamish nor his men would bring the promised bread and water in the morning. They did not believe that he was unable to pay the ransom they demanded, and they meant to starve him into yielding. But he had spoken the truth; he had not such a sum of money at his command. The question was, what the end would be. For the present they had not left him so much as a jug of water, and he suddenly realised that he was thirsty after his many exertions. He could not help laughing to himself at the idea that he might die of thirst in a cistern. But it was not in him to waste time in idly reflecting on the detestable irony of his fate, when there was any possibility that his own action might help him. He rose again and took up the lantern to make a systematic examination of his prison. After all, Tocktamish and his soldiers must have acted on the spur of the moment, and though they evidently knew the entrance to the cistern, and had probably been aware that it had a door which could be shut, it was not impossible that there might be another way out which they had overlooked in their haste. But Zeno could find none, and the place was not so large as he had at first supposed. He counted eight columns in each direction, which gave sixty-four for the whole number, and he guessed the cistern to be about one hundred feet square. The walls were covered with smooth cement, to which the dust hardly adhered, and which extended upwards to the spring of the vault, at the same level as the capitals of the columns. There was no opening to be found except the one entrance. Zeno followed the steep inclined passage upwards till he reached the closed door which, as he well understood, must be at a considerable distance from the cistern. It was made of oak, and though it might have been in its place a couple of hundred years it was still perfectly sound. The lock had been wrenched off long ago, probably to be used for some neighbouring house, but Zeno had heard the stones rolled up outside the door, and even before he tried it, he knew that he could not make it move. He wondered whether Tocktamish had set a watch, and he called out and listened for an answer, but none came; he shouted, with the same result. Then he took up his lantern and went down again, for it was clear that the soldiers thought him so safely confined that it would not be necessary to guard the entrance. Since that was their opinion, there was nothing to be done but to agree with them. Zeno lay down in the dust, rolled himself in the spare cloak, placing a doubled fold of it between his head and the base of a column, and he was soon fast asleep. CHAPTER XIV There was consternation in little Omobono's face the next morning when he learnt that his master had gone out during the night, and had not come home. The secretary would not believe it at first, and he went himself to Zeno's bedroom and saw that the couch had not been slept on; he could tell that easily, though it was not a bed but a narrow divan covered with a carpet; for the two leathern pillows were not disturbed, and the old dark red cloak which Zeno always used as a covering was neatly folded in its place. It had been with him through the long campaign in Greece, and he had the almost affectionate associations with it which men of action often connect with objects that have served them well in dangerous times. Zeno had not slept at home, and he had changed his clothes before going out. Questioned by Omobono, Vito could not say with any certainty what the master had put on; in fact, he could not tell at all. All the cloth hose and doublets and tunics were in their places in the cedar wardrobes and chests of drawers, except those he had taken off, which lay on a chair. It looked, said the servant, as if the master had gone out without any clothes at all! Omobono felt that if he had been a bigger man he would have boxed the fellow's ears for the impertinent suggestion. But it was not quite safe, for the man was a big Venetian gondolier and sailor. Besides, as he went on to explain, the master had often gone down to the marble steps at dawn for a plunge and a swim, with nothing but a sheet round him, coming back to dress in his room. Perhaps he had done so now, and perhaps---- The man stopped short. Perhaps Zeno was drowned. He looked at Omobono, but the secretary shook his head, and pointed to the undisturbed couch. Zeno would certainly not have gone out bathing before going to bed. Neither of them thought of looking into the small military trunk which stood in a dark corner, and from which Zeno had taken the leathern jerkin and stout hose which he had put on for the expedition. Omobono had, of course, already questioned the slave-girls. They told what they knew, that the master had supped upstairs, and had dismissed them. When they came back to the room he was gone, they said; and this was true, since they had slept all night. The Kokóna was now asleep, they added; but they did not say that she was sleeping dressed as she had been on the previous evening, and looked very tired, for that was none of the secretary's business. Omobono went up and down the stairs almost as often that morning as on the day of Zoë's first coming, and again and again he instructed Yulia to call him when her mistress awoke. The answer was always the same: the Kokóna was still asleep, and the secretary should be called as soon as she rose. At last he began to think that she, too, had left the house, and that the girls were in the secret, and he threatened to go in and see for himself. To his surprise Yulia stood aside to let him pass, laying one finger on her lips as a warning to make no noise; for the little slave saw well enough that he suspected her of lying, and she was afraid of him in Zeno's absence. Seeing that she did not oppose him, he was convinced, and did not go in. He would not send out messengers to ask for his master at the houses of the Venetian merchants, or at their places of business, for he had a true Italian's instinct to conceal from the outer world everything that happens in the house. Yet he found himself in a dilemma; for Zeno had invited Sebastian Polo, his wife and his daughter, and other friends to dinner, and they would come, and be amazed to find that he was not there to receive them. Yet if word were sent to them not to come, Zeno might return in time and be justly angry; and then he would call the poor secretary something worse than a cackling hen. It was a terrible difficulty, and all the servants and slaves downstairs were chattering about it like magpies, except when the secretary was just passing. The cook sent to ask whether he was to prepare the dinner. 'Certainly,' answered Omobono. 'The master is no doubt gone out on pressing business, and will be back in plenty of time to receive his friends.' He tried to speak calmly, poor man, but he was in a terrible stew. Anxiety had brought out two round red spots on his grey cheeks; for once his trim beard was almost ruffled, and his small round eyes were haggard and bloodshot. As the time for the arrival of the guests drew near, he felt his brain reeling, and the rooms whirled round him, till he felt that the universe was going raving mad, and that he was in the very centre of it. Still Zoë slept, and still the master did not come. At last there was but half an hour left. Omobono strained every nerve he possessed, and determined to meet the tremendous difficulty in a way that should elicit Zeno's admiration. He would receive the ladies and gentlemen as major-duomo, he would make an excuse for his master, he would instal them in their places at table, and would direct the service. Of the cook and the cellar the little man felt quite sure, and that was a great consolation in his extremity. If he gave Zeno's friends of the best, and made a polite apology, and saw that nothing went wrong, it would be impossible to ask more of him or to suggest that he had failed in his duty. When the guests were gone he would go to bed and have an attack of fever; of that he felt quite sure, but then the terrible ordeal would be over, and it would be a relief to lie on his back and feel very ill. He retired and dressed himself in his best clothes. His cloth hose were of a dark wine colour, but were now a little loose for his legs. He looked at them affectionately as he examined them in the light. They recalled many cheerful hours and some proud moments; they remembered also the days when his little legs had not been so thin. Yet by pulling them up almost to the tearing point they lost in width what they gained in length, and made a very good appearance after all, for he secured them by an ingenious contrivance of belt and string. It was true that when he walked he felt as if he were being lifted from the floor by the back of his waistband, but that only made him feel a little taller than he was, and forced him to hold himself very straight, which was a distinct advantage. Now in all this trouble it never occurred to him that his master was in any great danger or trouble, much less that he might have been killed in some mad adventure. Carlo Zeno had lived through such desperate perils again and again, that Omobono had formed the habit of believing him to be indestructible, if not invulnerable, and sure to fall on his feet whatever happened. The secretary only wished he would not choose to disappear on the very day when he had asked five friends to dine with him. Omobono stood in his fine clean shirt and his wine-coloured hose, combing and smoothing his beard carefully with the help of a little mirror no bigger than the bottom of a tumbler. The glass was indeed so small that he could only get an impression of his whole face by moving the thing about, from his chin to his nose, from one cheek to the other, and from his forehead to his thin throat, round which he admired the neatly fitting line of the narrow linen collar. But this last effort required a good deal of squinting, for the point of his beard was in the way. While he was thus engaged some one tapped at his door, and a small voice informed him that Kokóna Arethusa was now awake, and wished to see him instantly. Though the door was not opened by the speaker, Omobono hastily laid down his glass and his comb, and struggled into his tunic as if his life depended on his getting it on before he answered; for he was a very modest man, and the voice was a girl's; moreover, he was aware that the device of belt and strings by which his hose were drawn up so very tightly must present a ridiculous appearance until covered by his over-garment; then, however, the effect would be excellent. So he got on his tunic as fast as he could, and then answered with the calmness of perfectly restored dignity through the closed door. 'Tell the Kokóna that I am at her service,' he said; 'and that I shall be with her immediately.' 'Yes, sir,' said the small voice, and he heard the girl's retreating footsteps immediately after she had spoken. A few moments later he was going up the stairs as fast as the tremendous tension of his hose would allow, and as he went he reflected with satisfaction that as major-duomo he could not by any possibility be called upon to sit down in the presence of his master's guests. One of the slave-girls ushered him into Zoë's presence. The latter was seated on the edge of the divan, looking anxiously towards the door when he entered, and for the first time since she had been in the house he saw her face uncovered. It was very pale, and there were deep shadows under her eyes. Her beautiful brown hair was in wild disorder, too, and fell in a loosened tress upon one shoulder. The hand that rested on the edge of the divan strained upon a fold of the delicate silk carpet that covered the couch. She spoke as soon as Omobono appeared. 'Have you heard from him?' she asked anxiously. 'Is he coming?' It did not seem strange to the secretary that she should already know of Zeno's absence, since no one in the house could think or talk of anything else. On his part he was resolved to maintain the calm dignity becoming to the major-duomo of a noble house. 'The master will doubtless come home when he has finished the urgent business that called him away,' he answered. 'In his absence, it will be my duty to make excuses to his guests----' 'Are they coming? Have you not sent them word to stay away?' Omobono smiled in a sort of superiorly humble way. 'And what if the master should return just at the hour of dinner?' he asked. 'What would he say if I had ventured to take upon myself such a responsibility? The Kokóna does not know the master! Happily I have been in his service too long not to understand my duty. If it pleases him to come home, he will find that his friends have been entertained as he desired. If he does not come, he will be glad to learn afterwards that the proper excuses were offered to them for his unavoidable absence, and that they were treated with the honour due to their station.' Zoë stared at the secretary, really amazed by his calmness, and almost reassured by his evident belief in Zeno's safety. It was true that he knew nothing of the facts, and had not seen his master hanging by the end of a rope, fifty feet above the ground, within twelve hours. It would have been hard to imagine Omobono's state of mind if he had spent the night as Zoë had. But nevertheless his assurance rested her, and restored a little of her confidence in Zeno's good fortune. Of his courage and his strength she needed not to be reminded; but she knew well enough that unless chance were in his favour, he could never leave Blachernæ except to die. 'Do you really think he is safe?' Zoë asked, glad to hear the reassuring words, even in her own voice. 'Of course, Kokóna----' But at this moment the sound of oars in the water, and of several voices talking together, came up through the open window from the landing below. All Omobono's excitement returned at the thought that he might not get down the stairs in time to receive the guests at the marble steps just as the boats came alongside. Without another word he turned and fled precipitately. Zoë had heard the voices too, and had understood; and, in spite of her anxiety, a gentle smile at the secretary's nervousness flitted across her tired face. The two slave-girls had run to the window to see who was coming, and as they had always been told not to show themselves at windows, they crouched down in the balcony and looked through the open-work of marble which formed the parapet. Zoë rose to cross the room. In the first rush of memory that came with waking, she had almost forgotten that she had been hurt, and now she bit her lip as the pain shot down her right side. But she smiled almost instantly. She would rather have been hurt unawares by the man she loved, than that he should not have touched her at the very moment of going into danger. The memory of his crushing weight upon her for that instant was something she would not part with. Women know what that is. She thought how tenderly he would have stooped to kiss her, if he had known that she was lying there under the canvas. Instead, he had stepped upon her body; and it was almost better than a kiss, for that would have left nothing of itself; but now each movement that hurt her brought him close to her again. She had received no real injury, but she limped as she walked to the window. Then she stood still just within it, where she could not see down to the steps below, but could talk with the slave-girls in a whisper. Doubtless, since Zeno had not wished her to be seen, she would not have shown herself; but she was quite conscious that she looked ill and tired, and by no means fit to face a rival who had been described to her as fresher than spring roses; so that the sacrifice was, after all, not so great as it might have been. 'Tell me what you see,' she said to the maids. Lucilla turned up her sallow little face. 'There are three,' she answered. 'There is a Venetian lord, and his lady, and a young lady. At least, I suppose she is young.' [Illustration: 'Tell me what you see,' she said to the maids.] 'I should think you could see that,' Zoë said. 'Her face is veiled,' Lucilla replied, after peering down; 'but I can see her hair. It is red, and she has a great deal of it.' 'Red like Rustan's wife's hair?' asked Zoë. 'Oh no! It is red like a lady's; for it is well dyed with the good khenna that comes from Alexandria. Now they are getting out--the old lady first--she is fat--the secretary and her husband help her on each side. She is all wrapped in a long green silk mantle embroidered with red roses. She is like a dish of spinach in flames. How fat she is!' Lucilla shook a little, as if she were laughing internally. 'What does her daughter wear?' asked Zoë. 'A dark purple cloak, with a broad silver trimming.' 'How hideous!' exclaimed Zoë, for no particular reason. 'The secretary bows to the ground,' Lucilla said. 'He is saying something.' She stopped speaking, and all three listened. Zoë could hear Omobono's voice quite distinctly. 'By a most unfortunate circumstance,' he was saying, 'Messer Carlo Zeno was obliged to go out on very urgent business, and has not yet returned. I am his secretary and major-duomo, as your lordship may deign to remember. In my master's absence I have the honour to welcome his guests, and to wait upon them.' Sebastian Polo said something in answer to this fine speech; but in a low tone, and Zoë could not hear the words. Then a peculiarly disagreeable woman's voice asked a question. Zoë thought it sounded like something between the croaking of many frogs and the clucking of an old hen. 'We hope you will give us our dinner, whatever happens,' said the lady, who seemed to be of a practical turn of mind. 'Is that the girl's voice?' asked Zoë of Lucilla, in a whisper. The maid shook her head. 'The mother,' she answered. 'Now they are going in. I cannot hear what Omobono says, for he is leading the way. They are all gone.' Zoë did not care who else came, and now that the moment was over she was much less disturbed by the fact that Giustina was under the same roof with her than she had expected to be. She did not believe that Zeno had ever kissed Giustina, and he had certainly never stepped on her. She let her maids do what they would with her now, hardly noticing the skill they showed in helping her to move, and in smoothing away the pain she felt, as only the people of the East know how to do it. As she did not speak to them they dared not ask her questions about the master's absence. They had left him with her when they had been sent away; they had slept till morning; when they awoke they had found Zoë lying on the divan asleep in her clothes, and the master had gone out of the house unseen and had not returned. That was as far as their knowledge went; but they were sure that she knew everything, and they hoped that if they pleased her even more than usual she would let fall some words of explanation, as mistresses sometimes do when their servants are particularly satisfactory. Most young women, when they are in a good humour, let their maids know what they have been doing; and as soon as they are cross the maids revenge themselves by telling the other servants everything. In this way the balance of power is maintained between the employer and the employed, like the hydrostatic equilibrium in the human body, which cannot be destroyed without bringing on a syncope. But though Zoë felt very much less pain after Yulia and Lucilla had bathed her and rubbed her, and had gently pulled at all her joints till she felt supple and light again, she said nothing about Zeno; and though they dressed her so skilfully that she could not help smiling with pleasure when they showed her to herself in the large mirror they held up between them, yet she only thanked them kindly, and gave them each two spoonfuls of roseleaf preserve, which represented to them an almost heavenly delight, as she well knew, and which she herself did not at all despise. That was all, however; and they were a little disappointed, because she did not condescend to talk to them about the master's disappearance, which was the greatest event that had happened since they had all three lived under Zeno's roof. Meanwhile Omobono was playing his part of major-duomo downstairs, and had installed the guests at the table set for them in the large hall looking over the Golden Horn. After Polo and his wife, another Venetian merchant had arrived, the rich old banker Marin Cornèr, long established in Constantinople, and a friend of Sebastian Polo. The fifth person invited did not appear, so that two seats were vacant, the sixth being Zeno's own; and behind his high carved chair Omobono installed himself, to direct the servants, quite an imposing figure in his dark purple tunic and the handsome silver chain, which he had put on to-day to indicate his high office in the establishment. Poor Omobono! He little dreamt of what was in store for him that day. The three older guests were moderately sorry that Zeno was not present. In their several ways they were all a little afraid of their eccentric countryman, about whom the most wild tales were told. Though in truth he was extremely punctual in meeting his financial engagements, both Sebastian Polo and Marin Cornèr had always felt a little nervous about doing business with a young man who was known to have kept an army at bay for a whole winter, who was reported to have slain at least a hundred Turks with his own hand, and whose brown eyes gleamed like a tiger's at the mere mention of a fight. It would be so extremely awkward if, instead of meeting a bill that fell due, he should appear at Cornèr's bank armed to the teeth and demand the contents of the strong box. On the whole the two elderly merchants ate with a better appetite in his absence. But Giustina was inconsolable, and the good things did not appeal to her, neither the fresh sturgeon's roe from the Black Sea, nor the noble palamit, nor the delicate quails, nor even the roasted peacock, whose magnificent tail rose out of a vast silver dish like a rainbow with spots on it. She was a big, sleepy creature with quantities of handsomely dyed hair, as Lucilla had told Zoë. She had large and regular features, a perfectly colourless white skin, and a discontented mouth. She often turned her eyes to see what was going on, without turning her head at all, as if she were too lazy to make even that small effort. Her hands were well shaped, but heavy in the fingers, and they looked like new marble, too white to be interesting, too cold to touch. She was terribly disappointed and deeply offended by what seemed to her a deliberate insult; for she did not believe a word of Omobono's polite apology. The truth was that Zeno had only invited the party because her mother had invited herself in the hope of bringing him to the point of offering to marry Giustina. As a matter of fact nothing had ever been farther from his thoughts. Sebastian Polo, urged by his wife, had entered into the closest relations of business with Zeno, and had again and again given him a share in transactions that had been extraordinarily profitable. He had rendered it necessary for Zeno to see him often, and had made it easy by his constant hospitality; in these things lay the whole secret of Zeno's visits to his house. But seeing that matters did not take a matrimonial direction as quickly as she had expected, Polo's wife had adopted a course which she intended to make decisive; she had asked herself and her daughter to dine with Zeno. From this to hinting that he had compromised Giustina, and thence to extracting an offer of marriage, would be easy steps, familiar to every enterprising mother, since the beginning of the matrimonial ages. And that was a long time ago--even before Solomon's day, when the horseleech's two daughters cried, 'Give, give!' Zeno's value as a possible husband lay less in his fortune than in his very magnificent connections at home, and in the fact that the Emperor Charles had been his godfather and afterwards his friend and patron. Giustina understood her thoughtful parent's policy; she was therefore unhappy, and would eat no peacock, a circumstance which greatly distressed Omobono. Happily for him, the young woman's abstention was fully compensated by the readiness of the elder guests to partake of what she obstinately refused, even to something like repletion. While they ate, they talked; that is to say, Sebastian Polo and Marin Cornèr compared opinions on business matters such as the value of Persian silks, Greek wines, and white slaves, without giving away to each other the least thread of information that could be turned into money. And Polo's wife, who had an eye to the main chance, croaked a few words now and then, encouraging Cornèr to talk more freely of his affairs; perhaps, thought she, he might betray the secret of his wonderful success in obtaining from the Caucasus certain priceless furs which no merchant but he had ever been able to get. But though the fat dame lured him on to talk and made signs to have his glass filled again and again with Chian wine, and though the colours of a most beautiful sunset began to creep up his thin nose and his high cheek bones, as the rich evening light climbs in the western sky, Marin Cornèr's speech was as quiet and clear as ever, and what he said was, if anything, a trifle more cautious than before. And meanwhile Giustina stared across her empty plate at the boats on the Golden Horn, and nursed her wrath against the man she wished to marry. 'My child,' croaked her mother, 'we fully understand your disappointment. But you should make an effort to be cheerful, if only for the sake of Messer Marin Cornèr, your father's valued friend.' 'I beg you to excuse my dulness, Madam,' answered the daughter dutifully, and with all the ceremony that children were taught to use in addressing their parents. 'I shall endeavour to obey you.' 'Come, come, Donna Giustina!' cried Cornèr. 'We will drink your health and happiness in this good----' The sentence remained unfinished, and his lips did not close; as he set down the untasted wine, his eyes fixed themselves on a point between Omobono and Polo, and the sunset effects faded from his nose, leaving a grey twilight behind. The fat dame thought it was an apoplexy, and half rose from her seat; but Giustina's eyes followed the direction of his look and she uttered a cry of real fear. Sebastian Polo, who sat with his back to the sight that terrified his daughter, gazed at the other three in astonishment. But Omobono turned half round and gasped, and seized the back of Zeno's empty chair, swinging it round on one of its legs till it was between him and the vision. Tocktamish stood there, grinning at the assembled company in a way to terrify the stoutest heart amongst them. He was magnificently arrayed in his full dress uniform of flaming yellow and gold, and his huge round fur papakh was set well back on his shaggy head. His right hand toyed amidst a perfect arsenal of weapons in his belt, and his blood-shot eyes rolled frightfully as he looked from one guest to the other, showing his shark's teeth as he grinned and grinned again. It was certainly Tocktamish, the Tartar; and Tocktamish was not perfectly sober. He was the more pleased by the impression his appearance had produced. He at once came forward to the empty place of the absent guest, which was next to Giustina's. 'I see that you have kept a place for me,' he said in barbarous Greek. 'That was very kind of you! And I am in time for the peacock, too!' Thereupon he sat down in the chair, looked round the table, and grinned again. The fat lady collapsed in a fainting fit, the two elderly merchants edged away from the board as far as they could, and Giustina uttered another piercing shriek when the Tartar leered at her. 'Who is this person?' her father tried to ask with dignity, meaning the question for Omobono. But Omobono had vanished, and the servants had fled after him. CHAPTER XV Tocktamish poured half a flagon of Chian wine into a tall Venetian beaker and drank it off by way of whetting his appetite. 'The master of the house is unavoidably absent,' he observed, when he had smacked his lips noisily. 'He has sent me to beg that you will excuse him and make yourselves at home.' By this time Dame Polo was beginning to revive, and the two men were somewhat reassured as to the Tartar's intentions. When he had entered he had looked as if he meant to murder them all, but it was now evident from his manner that he wished to produce a pleasant impression. He drew the peacock towards him, and at once took all the best pieces that were left on the dish, using his fingers to save trouble. Giustina watched him without turning her head, and judged that, after all, he had only meant to show his admiration for her beauty when he had leered so horribly. She was in reality the least timid of all the party, though she had shrieked so loudly, and she remembered a fairy story about a frightful monster that had loved a beautiful princess. She was already pondering on the means of making a similar conquest. 'Are we to understand,' asked Marin Cornèr, politely, but in a shaky tone, 'that you come from Messer Carlo Zeno?' Tocktamish grunted assent, for his mouth was full, and he nodded emphatically. 'Messer Carlo Zeno is in need of a large sum of money without delay,' he said, when he was able to speak again. Sebastian Polo looked at Marin Cornèr significantly; and Marin Cornèr looked at Sebastian Polo. The fat lady pricked her ears, figuratively speaking, for indeed they were much too deeply embedded in their exuberant surroundings of cheek and jowl to suggest that they could ever prick at all. The Tartar crammed his mouth full again, and his great beard wagged with his jaws in the inevitable silence that followed. In her heart Giustina compared him to a ravenous lion, but her father thought he resembled a hungry hyena. Finding that his throat was not cut yet, and learning that there was to be a question of money, Marin Cornèr felt that the colour was returning to his nose and the warmth to his heart. 'Why does Messer Carlo not come home himself and get the money he needs?' he asked. By this time Omobono had recovered from his fright enough to creep into the room behind Tocktamish. He was already making anxious gestures to the two Venetian gentlemen to enjoin caution. The Tartar drank again before he answered the question. 'He happened to be so busy that he preferred to send me to get the money for him,' said the soldier. 'You see we are old friends. We fought together in Greece.' Then Omobono's voice was heard, quavering with anxiety. 'There is no money in the house!' he cried, winking violently at Polo and Cornèr. 'There is not a penny, I swear! There were large payments to make yesterday.' The poor little secretary was so anxious to be heard that he had come within arm's length of the Tartar, though behind him. Tocktamish turned his big head, and put out his hand unexpectedly, and Omobono felt himself caught and whirled round like a child till he was close to the table and face to face with the tipsy giant. He was sure that he felt his liver shrivelling up inside him with sheer fright. 'What is this little animal?' the Tartar asked, cocking one eye in a knowing way and examining him with a sort of boozy gravity. But Omobono really could not find a word. His captor shook him playfully. 'What is your name, you funny little beast?' he enquired, and he roared with laughter by way of answering himself. Giustina, strange to say, was the only one to join in his mirth, and she laughed quite prettily, to the inexpressible surprise of her parents, who were shocked and grieved, as well as scared almost to death. 'Come, come!' laughed the Tartar, shaking the little man like a bean-bag. 'If you cannot speak, you can at least give up your keys, and I will see for myself if there is any money!' Thereupon he seized the bunch of keys which the secretary wore at his belt, and wrenched it off with a pull that snapped the thong by which it hung. Again Giustina laughed, but a little more nervously now; her mother sat transfixed, open-mouthed, with an almost idiotic expression. Again the two merchants glanced at each other, and then both looked towards the door. Between his fright and the terrible indignity of having his keys torn from him, Omobono had never been nearer to fainting in his life. 'Robbery!' he gasped. 'Rank robbery!' Tocktamish sent him spinning into the nearest corner by a turn of the wrist, after which the ruffian took another mouthful of meat, and slowly filled his glass while he was disposing of it. Omobono had steadied himself in the corner, but his face was deadly white, and his lips were moving nervously in a delirium of terror. 'Messer Carlo needs ten thousand ducats before sunset,' observed the Tartar before he drank. Polo and Cornèr started to their feet; to their commercial souls the mere mention of such a demand was more terrifying than all the crooked weapons that gleamed in Tocktamish's broad belt. 'Ten thousand ducats!' they repeated together in a breath. 'Yes!' roared the Tartar, in a voice that made the glasses on the table shake together and ring. 'Ten thousand ducats! And if I do not find the money in the house, you two must find it in yours! Do you understand?' [Illustration: 'Yes!' roared the Tartar. 'Ten thousand ducats! And if I do not find the money in the house, you two must find it in yours! Do you understand?'] They understood, for his voice was like thunder, and he had risen too, and towered above them with his full glass in one hand and Omobono's keys in the other. Then, being already tolerably drunk, he solemnly raised the keys to his lips, thinking that he held the glass in that hand, and rolled his eyes terribly at the two merchants; and he set the glass down with an emphatic gesture, as if it had been the bunch of keys, and it broke to pieces, and the yellow wine splashed out across the table and ran down and streamed upon the mosaic floor. A terrific Tartar oath announced that he had realised his mistake, and as he at once made up his mind that the Venetians were responsible for it, his next action was to hurl the foot of the broken glass at Polo's head; and he instantly seized the empty silver flagon and flung it at Cornèr's face. The lighter weapon missed its aim and broke to atoms against the opposite wall, but the jug struck Cornèr full on the bridge of his thin nose with awful effect, and he fell to the floor and lay there, a moaning, bleeding heap. Polo looked neither at his wife nor at his daughter, but fled through the open door at the top of his not very great speed. His wife fainted outright, and in real earnest now, and with a final croak rolled gently from her chair, without hurting herself at all. Omobono flattened his lean body against the wall, trembling in every joint, and gibbering with fear; and Tocktamish, seeing that he had so satisfactorily cleared the field, proceeded to address his attentions to Giustina, who had not fainted, but was really much too frightened to rise from her seat or try to escape. The Tartar drew his chair nearer to hers, and suddenly smiled, as if he had done nothing unusual, and was only anxious to make himself agreeable. He had been drinking since early morning, but he would be good for at least another gallon of wine before it made him senseless. He addressed Giustina in the poetic language of his native country. 'Come, pet parrot of my soul!' he began, coaxingly. 'Fill me a cup and let me hear your ravishing voice! Tocktamish has cleared the house as the thunderstorm clears the hot air from the valley! Drink, my pretty nightingale, and the golden wine shall warm your speech in your little throat, as the morning sunshine melts the icicles in my beard when I have been hunting all night in winter! Drink, my fawn, my spring lamb, my soft wood-pigeon, my white bunny rabbit! Drink, sweet one!' The Tartar's similes were in hopeless confusion, possibly because he translated them into Greek, but he was convinced that he was eloquent, and he was undeniably as strong as a bear. He had filled a fresh glass and was evidently anxious to make Giustina drink out of it before him, for he held it to her lips with his left hand while his right tried to take her round the waist and draw her to his knee. But this was much more than she was prepared to submit to. In the fairy story, Beast was less enterprising in the presence of Beauty, and collapsed into obedience at the mere lifting of her finger. Giustina was a big creature, usually sleepy and not inclined to move quickly; but she was capable of exerting considerable strength in an emergency. The instant she felt Tocktamish's hand at her waist, she rose with a quick, serpentine motion that unwound her, as it were, from his encircling hold, and almost before he knew that she was on her feet she had fled from the room and slammed the door behind her. Tocktamish tried to follow her, but he stumbled successively over the still unconscious dame and the still moaning Cornèr, so that when he reached the door at last his purpose had undergone a change, and, as he thought, an improvement. Women never ran out of the house into the street, he argued; therefore Giustina was now upstairs and would stay there; hence it would be wiser to finish the peacock and anything else he could lay hands on before going to pay her a visit. For Tocktamish found the food and the wine to his liking, and such as were not to be had every day, even by a Tartar officer with plenty of money in his wallet. He was tolerably steady still, as he made his way back towards his seat. His eye fell on Omobono, flattened against the wall and still in a palsy of fear; for all that has been told since Cornèr had fallen and Polo had run away had occupied barely two minutes. Tocktamish suddenly felt lonely, and the little secretary amused him. He took him by the collar and whirled him into Giustina's vacant chair at the table. 'You may keep me company, while I finish my dinner,' he explained. 'I cannot eat alone--it disturbs my digestion.' He roared with laughter, and slapped Omobono on the back playfully. The little man felt as if he had been struck between the shoulders by a large ham, and the breath was almost knocked out of his body; and he wondered how in the world his tight hose had survived the strain of his sitting down so suddenly. 'You look starved,' observed the Tartar, in a tone of concern, after observing his face attentively. 'What you want is food and drink, man!' With a sudden impulse of hospitality he began to heap up food on Giustina's unused plate, with a fine indifference to gastronomy, or possibly with a tipsy sense of humour. He piled up bits of roast peacock, little salt fish, olives, salad, raisins, dried figs, candied strawberries, and honey cake, till he could put no more on the plate, which he then set before Omobono. 'Eat that,' he said. 'It will do you good.' Then he addressed himself to the peacock again, with a good will. Omobono would have got up and slipped away, if he had dared. Next to his bodily fear, he was oppressed by the terrible impropriety of sitting at his master's table, where the guests should have been. This seemed to him a dreadful thing. 'Really, sir,' he began, 'if you will allow me I would rather----' 'Do not talk. Eat!' Tocktamish set the example by tearing the meat off a peacock's leg with his teeth. 'You need it,' he added, with his mouth very full. The poor secretary looked at the curiously mixed mess which his tormentor had set before him, and he felt very uncomfortable at the mere idea of tasting the stuff. Then he glanced at the Tartar and saw the latter's bloodshot eye rolling at him hideously, while the shark-like teeth picked a leg bone, and terror chilled his heart again. What would happen if he refused to eat? Tocktamish dropped the bone and filled two glasses. 'To Messer Carlo Zeno!' he cried, setting the wine to his lips. Omobono thought a little wine might steady his nerves; and, moreover, he could not well refuse to drink his master's health. 'Good!' laughed Tocktamish. 'If you cannot eat, you can drink!' Just then Cornèr groaned piteously, where he lay in a heap on the floor. His nose was much hurt, but he was even more badly frightened. The Tartar was not pleased. 'If that man is dead, take him out and bury him!' he cried, turning on Omobono. 'If he is alive, kick him and tell him to hold his tongue! He disturbs us at our dinner.' Omobono thought he saw a chance of escaping, and rose, as if to obey. But the Tartar's long arm reached him instantly and he was forced back into his seat. 'I thought you meant me to take him away,' he feebly explained. 'I was speaking to the slaves,' said Tocktamish gravely, though there was no servant or slave within hearing. The unfortunate merchant, who was not at all unconscious, and had probably groaned with a vague idea of exciting compassion, now held his peace, for he did not desire to be kicked, still less to be taken out and buried. The Tartar seemed satisfied by the silence that followed. After another glass he rose to his feet and took Omobono by the arm; considering his potations he was still wonderfully steady on his legs. 'Where is the strong box?' he asked, dragging the secretary towards the door opposite to the one through which Giustina had gone out. 'There is no money in the house,' cried Omobono, in renewed terror. 'I swear to you that there is no money!' 'Very well,' answered the Tartar, who had taken the keys from the table. 'Show me the empty box.' 'There is no strong box, sir,' answered the secretary, resolving to control his fear and die in defending his master's property. The difficulty was to carry out this noble resolution. Tocktamish grabbed him by both arms and held him in the vice of his grasp. 'Little man,' he said gravely. 'There is a box, and I will find the box, and I will put you into the box, and I will throw the box into the water. Then you will know that it is not good to lie to Tocktamish. Now show me where it is.' Omobono shrank to something like half his natural size in his shame and fear, and led the way to the counting-house. Once only he stopped, and made a gallant attempt to be brave, and tried to repeat his queer little prayer, as he did on all the great occasions of his life. 'O Lord, grant wealth and honour to the Most Serene Republic,' he began, and though he realised that in his present situation this request was not much to the point, he would have gone on to ask for victory over the Genoese, on general principles. But at that moment he felt something as sharp as a pin sticking into him just where his hose would naturally have been most tight, and where, in fact, the strain that pulled them up was most severe; in that part of the human body, in short, which, as most of us have known since childhood is peculiarly sensitive to pain. There was no answer to such an argument _a posteriori_; the little man's head went down, his shoulders went up, and he trotted on; and though he could not be put off from finishing his prayer he had reached the door of the counting-house when he was only just beginning to pray that he might have strength to resist curiosity, a request even more out of place, just then, than a petition for the destruction of the Genoese. A moment later he and Tocktamish entered the room, and the Tartar shut the door behind him. Neither of the two had heard two little bare feet following them softly at a distance; but when the door was shut Lucilla ran nimbly up to it and quickly drew the great old iron bolt which had been left where it had once been useful, at a time when the disposition of the house had been different. Lucilla knew that all the windows within had heavy gratings, and that neither Omobono nor his captor could get out. Giustina had fled upstairs, as women generally do to save themselves from any immediate danger. They are born with the idea that when a house has more than one story the upper one is set apart for them and their children, as indeed it always was in the Middle Ages, and they feel sure that there must be other women there who will help them, or defend them, or hide them. For it is a curious fact that whereas women distrust each other profoundly where the one man of their affections is concerned, they rely on each other as a whole body, banded together to resist and get the better of the male sex, in a way that would do credit to any army in an enemy's country. Therefore Giustina went upstairs, quite certain of finding other women. Now there was but one door on the upper landing, and that was Zoë's, and it was open; and just outside it Lucilla was hiding in the curtain, listening to the strange sounds that came up from below; but when Giustina ran in without seeing her, the little slave stayed outside and slipped downstairs noiselessly, listened again at the dining-room door, watched the Tartar and the secretary from a place of safety, and then ran nimbly after them on purpose to lock them in, as she did, for she was a clever little slave and remembered the bolt. Meanwhile Giustina rushed on like a whirlwind till she fell panting on the divan beside Zoë, hardly seeing her at all, and staring at the door, through which she expected every moment to see the burly Tartar enter in pursuit; so that Yulia, who guessed the danger, ran and shut it of her own accord. Then Giustina drew a long breath and looked round, and she met Zoë's eyes scrutinising her face with a look she never forgot. 'That monster!' she exclaimed, by way of explanation and apology. Zoë had heard nothing, for the house was solidly built, and she had not the least idea who had frightened Giustina. It occurred to her that Gorlias might be in the house, and that on being seen by the Venetians it had suited him to terrify them in order to get out again without being questioned. 'You are Giustina Polo,' she said. 'I am Arethusa, Messer Carlo Zeno's slave. Will you tell me what has happened?' Giustina had now recovered herself enough to see that this Arethusa was very lovely, and she momentarily forgot the danger she had escaped. 'You are his slave!' she repeated slowly, and still breathing hard. 'Ah--I begin to understand.' 'So do I,' Zoë answered, looking at the handsome, heavy face, the dyed hair, and marble hands. There was something like relief in her tone, now that she had examined her rival well. 'When did Carlo buy you?' asked Giustina, growing coldly insolent as she recovered her breath and realised her social superiority. 'I think it was just five weeks ago,' Zoë answered simply. 'But it seems as if I had always been here.' 'I have no doubt,' said Giustina. 'Five weeks! Yes, I understand now.' Then a fancied sound waked her fear of pursuit again, and her eyes turned quickly towards the door. Yulia was standing beside it, listening with her ear to the crack; she shook her head as she met Giustina's anxious glance. There was nothing; no one was coming. 'You had better tell me what has happened,' Zoë said. 'You met some one who frightened you,' she suggested. Giustina saw that Zoë was in complete ignorance of the Tartar's visit, and she told what she had seen and heard downstairs. As she went on, explaining that Tocktamish demanded ten thousand ducats in Zeno's name, Zoë's expression grew more anxious, for she gathered the truth from the broken and exaggerated narrative. After failing in his attempt to free Johannes, Zeno had fallen into the hands of the soldiers he had won over to the revolution; they demanded an enormous ransom, and if it was not forthcoming they would give him up to Andronicus. It was bad enough, yet it was better than it might have been, for it meant that Zeno was still alive and safe, and would not be hurt so long as his captors could be made to wait for the money they asked. 'Ten thousand ducats!' Zoë repeated. 'It is more than can ever be got together!' 'My father could pay twice as much if he pleased,' answered the rich merchant's daughter, vain of his immense wealth. 'But I hardly think he will give anything,' she added slowly, while she watched Zoë's face to see what effect the statement might have. 'Messer Carlo has many friends,' Zoë answered quietly. 'But if he is alive it is very probable that he may come home without paying any ransom at all. And if he does, he will certainly repay the soldiers for the trick they have played him.' 'You do not seem anxious about him,' said Giustina, deceived and surprised by her assumed calmness. 'Are you?' Zoë asked. At that moment Yulia opened the door, for she had been listening from within and had heard her companion's bare feet on the pavement outside. Lucilla slipped in, almost dancing with delight at her last feat, and looking like a queer little sprite escaped from a fairy tale. 'I have locked them up in the counting-house, Kokóna!' she cried. 'The Tartar giant and the secretary! They are quite safe!' She laughed gleefully and Yulia laughed too. Giustina suddenly recollected her mother, who had fainted in the dining-room. As for her father, her knowledge of his character told her that since there had been danger he was certainly in a place of safety. She did not care what became of Marin Cornèr, whom she detested because he had once dared to ask for her hand, though he was a widower of fifty. But her mother was entitled to some consideration after all, if only for having brought into the world such a wonderful creature as Giustina really believed herself to be. Yet in her heart the young woman felt a secret resentment against her for having grown so enormously fat; since it very often happens that as daughters grow older they grow more and more like their mothers, and Giustina was aware that she herself was already rather heavy for her age. It would be a terrible thing to be a fat woman at thirty, and it would be her mother's fault if she were. Many daughters are familiar with this argument, though they may cry out and rail at the story-teller in the bazaar who has betrayed it to the young men. Giustina rose with much dignity now that she was fully reassured as to the safety of the house. Zoë was questioning Lucilla, who could hardly answer without breaking into laughter at the idea of having imprisoned Omobono and the terrible Tartar. The little secretary had never been unkind to any one in his life, but once or twice, when the master had been out and he had been on his dignity, he had found the slave-girls loitering on the stairs and had threatened them with the master's displeasure and with a consequent condign punishment if they were ever again caught doing nothing outside their mistress's apartment; and it was therefore delightful to know that he was shut up with Tocktamish, in terror of his life, and that his tremendous dignity was all gone to pieces in his fright. 'You are a clever girl,' said Zoë. 'I only hope the door is strong.' 'I called the servants and the slaves before I came upstairs,' Lucilla answered. 'I left them piling up furniture against the door. A giant could not get out now.' 'Poor Omobono!' Zoë exclaimed. 'How frightened he must be.' Giustina meanwhile prepared to go away, settling and smoothing the folds of her gown, and pressing her hair on one side and the other. Yulia brought her a mirror and held it up, and watched the young lady's complacent smile as she looked at her own reflection. When she had finished she barely nodded to Zoë, as she might have done to a slave who had served her, and she went out in an exceedingly stately and leisurely manner, quite sure that she had impressed Zoë with her immeasurable superiority. She was much surprised and displeased because Zoë did not rise and remain respectfully standing while she went out, and she promised herself to remember this also against the beautiful favourite when she herself should be Carlo Zeno's wife. But at a sign from Zoë, Lucilla followed her downstairs since there was no one else to escort her; and a few minutes later Yulia saw the little party come out upon the landing below. The fat lady in green silk was in a very limp condition, the embroidered roses seemed to droop and wither, and she was helped by three of Zeno's men; Marin Cornèr was holding a large napkin to his injured nose, so that he could not see where he put his feet and had to be helped by the door porter. As for Sebastian Polo, his wife and daughter well knew that he was by this time safe at home, and was probably recovering his lost courage by beating his slaves. 'They are gone,' said Yulia, when the boat had shoved off at last. Zoë rose then, and went slowly to the window. She stood there a few moments looking after the skiff, and in spite of her deep anxiety a faint smile played round her tender mouth as she thought of her meeting with Giustina; but it vanished almost at once. Her own situation was critical and perhaps dangerous. She knew that although she was a slave she was the only person in the house who could exercise any authority now that Omobono was locked up in the counting-house, and that it would be impossible to let him out without liberating Tocktamish at the same time, which was not to be thought of. If the Tartar got out now he would probably murder the first person he met, and every one else whom he found in his way; indeed, Zoë thought it not impossible that he was already murdering Omobono out of sheer rage. 'Come,' she said to Lucilla. 'We must go downstairs and see what can be done.' CHAPTER XVI Neither Tocktamish nor his victim knew that Lucilla had slipped the bolt after them, for Omobono was too terrified to hear anything but the Tartar's voice, and the latter was just in that state of intoxication in which a man perceives nothing that is not closely connected with the idea that possesses him for the time being; it is a state of mind familiar to those whose business it is to catch men, or to cheat them. The strong box stood against the wall at the farther end of the room, and close to the high desk at which Omobono usually worked. When he came to it the secretary stood still, and Tocktamish bent down and began to fumble with the keys. The box had three locks, each having a hasp that closed with a strong spring when the lid was shut down, and each requiring a separate key. It was a large chest, completely covered with sheet-iron and heavily bound with iron straps, the whole being kept bright by daily polishing. Tocktamish could not make the keys fit, and desisted with an oath. 'Open it!' he commanded, seizing the trembling secretary by the collar and forcing him to his knees before the chest. It would have been death to disobey, in the Tartar's present mood. Omobono put each key into the lock to which it belonged, turned each three times, and the middle one a fourth time, which had the effect of drawing back all the springs at once; at the same time he raised the heavy lid a little with one hand, and then opened it with both. Tocktamish began to throw the contents out on the floor with eager haste, seizing upon the money-bags first; but these were not many, nor were they very heavy, for the young merchant's capital was invested in many enterprises and was rarely lying idle, and as for spare cash he had taken out a goodly sum within the past two days to be given away to the guards at the palace. The Tartar soon saw that there were not a thousand gold ducats in the chest, and there was but a little silver. The rest of the contents consisted of accounts, papers, and parchments, many of which represented wealth, but could not be turned into gold by a thief. Tocktamish had an ignorant barbarian's primitive idea of riches, and being profoundly disappointed he at once became furiously angry. 'Where is the treasure?' he roared, and his face grew purple. He shook Omobono like a rat, as he repeated his question again and again. The wretched secretary felt that his hour was indeed come, and though he tried to speak and protest he really made no sound. Then Tocktamish remembered his own words. 'I said I would drown you in the box!' he cried. 'And by the sun and moon, full and new, I will! I will, by the vine, the wine, and the drinkers, you rat, you miserable Italian flea, you skinny little bag of bones!' Thereupon he hove up Omobono sideways by one arm and one leg and dropped him, fainting, into the empty money-chest, of which he instantly shut the lid. It closed with a loud snap as the three springs simultaneously fell into the slots in the three hasps. At the same moment Omobono lost consciousness; his last impression had been that he was killed and was to wake up in purgatory, and he had made one wild attempt to say a prayer when Tocktamish whirled him off his feet, but he could only remember the last words-- '... strength to resist curiosity.' Then everything was dark, the big locks snapped above his head and he knew nothing more. Having successfully accomplished this brave feat, the tipsy giant gravely sat down on the chest to think, for he had already forgotten that he had meant to throw it into the Golden Horn, and besides, even in his condition, he knew very well that four men could hardly have moved such a weight. As he sat he stooped down and drew the scattered contents of the chest towards him, and picked the small bags from the heaps of documents. Then it occurred to him that it would be more convenient to put all the coin into one sack which he could fasten to his belt. It would not be a very heavy weight, and it was not possible to cram all the bags into his wallet. A thousand gold ducats only weighed about twenty pounds, by goldsmiths' weight. When he had put all together in a soft leathern sack which he found empty, he got upon his feet, with the idea of going back to rifle the house since he had not found what he expected in the safe. It was familiar work to him, for after he had left Greece he had been a robber before he had turned respectable by taking service with the Emperor. He kicked the strong box before he went away. 'Good-bye, little man!' he laughed. But there was no answer, and at the idea that Omobono was such a fragile creature as to have died of fright, he laughed louder and slapped his huge thigh with his hand. It seemed quite inexpressibly funny to him that any one should actually die of fear, of all disorders in the world. He had fastened the leathern sack securely to his belt, and he went to the door to let himself out. When he found it fastened he looked at it curiously, and scratched his big head, trying to remember whether he had locked it after him or not, for he recollected that he had shut it lest any one should come upon him suddenly. But there was no key in the lock on the inside. He might have dropped it, or slipped it into his wallet, and he began to look for it, going round and round the room and kicking the papers and account-books hither and thither. It was not to be seen, and the windows were heavily grated; but he did not doubt his strength to break the door down. That was a mere trifle after all. He shook it violently, struck it, kicked it, and shook it again, but to his stupefaction it would not budge an inch. The servants had pushed a heavy marble table against it, and had piled up half a ton of furniture; he might as well have tried to break through the wall. Then it occurred to him that Omobono might have taken the key. He would open the box, though it was a pity to disturb a dead man in such an excellent coffin. But the box could not be opened any more than the door, for the springs had snapped, and he did not understand the complicated locks. He tried again and again, but failed each time. Perhaps the secretary was not dead after all. Tocktamish would speak to him, and ask him how to open the safe. 'Little man,' he said, 'I will let you out if you will tell me how to use the keys.' But the little man did not answer. If he was alive and heard, he had no desire to be let out while his tormentor was in the house. At the thought that he could perhaps hear, but would not speak, Tocktamish went into a paroxysm of fury. He seized the high stool that stood beside the desk and swung it with terrific force, bringing it down on the strong box, so that it flew into splinters with an appalling din. He raged, he foamed at the mouth, he bawled and yelled, and he smashed one piece of furniture after another on the heavy iron without producing the smallest impression on it, and without getting the least answer from Omobono, who was still half-unconscious, happily for his nerves, and was dreaming that he had taken refuge in a baker's oven during a terrible thunderstorm. The stool was reduced to kindling wood, two large chairs had followed it, and Tocktamish was in the act of heaving up the desk itself, sending inkstand, pens, and papers flying to the four corners of the room, and determined to crack the strong box with one tremendous blow, when a musical voice spoke gently through the window nearest to him. Zoë and her maids were there, and the whole household of men-servants and slaves were behind them. The three girls were standing on the broad stone seat that ran round the outside of the house in the Italian way, and they could easily look through the bars. In her haste Zoë had not veiled herself, and when the Tartar caught sight of her beautiful face at the window, the effect on his susceptible sentiments was instantaneous. The vision was a hundred times more lovely than the handsome Giustina who had escaped him. He had never seen any one like Zoë as she stood outside in the quiet afternoon sunshine. For a moment or two he was almost sober; the desk fell from his hands upon the iron chest, and was not even broken, and Tocktamish's hands hung down by his sides while he stared in stupid wonder. Zoë was glad that there were iron bars between him and her, for she had never seen a human being more like a raging wild beast. She had looked anxiously for Omobono, but as there was no trace of him nor of any blood, she at once decided that he had been able to get out by some secret way, after Lucilla had barred the door. 'Where is Messer Carlo?' were the words which arrested Tocktamish in the act of smashing the desk. He stood gazing at Zoë stupidly, and as he did not answer she repeated her question, watching him quietly so that he should understand that he was completely in her power. When he heard her voice again he made a sort of instinctive attempt to smooth himself, as the peacock spreads his tail before the female; he pulled out his immense moustaches, drew his shaggy beard through his two hands, settled his fur papakh on his head, and smiled complacently as he approached the window, prepared, in his own estimation, to win the heart of any woman in Constantinople. The exercise of breaking up the furniture had probably done him good, for he walked quite steadily, with his eyes wide open and his big head a little on one side. 'Messer Carlo is quite safe and very well,' he answered when he was near the grating. 'He has sent me to get him a little money, which he greatly needs.' 'You have a singular way of executing his commission,' observed Zoë, looking at the splinters of the smashed furniture. Tocktamish felt that the havoc round him must be explained. 'I have been killing the rats,' he said. 'It is extraordinary how many rats and mice get into counting-houses!' 'Where is Messer Carlo?' Zoë asked a third time. 'Sweet woolly ewe-lamb of heaven,' said Tocktamish, leaning on the window-sill and bringing his face close to the bars, 'if you will only give me one little kiss, I will tell you where Carlo is!' Zoë stepped to one side along the stone seat on which she stood, for she saw that he was going to slip one of his hands through the grating to catch her; and even with the bars between them he looked as if he could twist one of her arms off if she resisted him. Indeed, she was hardly out of his reach in time. He laughed rather vacantly as he grasped the air. The grating projected several inches beyond the window, like the end of a cage, as the gratings generally do in old Italian houses; and though Zoë was on one side, Tocktamish could still look at her. 'If you will come inside, I will tell you what you wish to know, my little dove,' he said with an engaging leer, for he did not really believe that any woman could resist him. 'Thank you,' Zoë answered. 'I will not come in, but I will warn you. If you will not tell me where Messer Carlo is, I shall have you shot with the master's crossbow, like a mad dog.' 'Shall I get the bow?' asked the voice of Carlo's man, the Venetian gondolier, who was an excellent shot, and had won a prize at the Lido. But Tocktamish laughed scornfully. 'Your crossbow cannot shoot through the shutters,' he said, for they were very heavy ones, at least three inches thick. 'Besides,' he added, 'I can sit on the floor under the window, and you will not even see me.' 'If we cannot shoot you, we can starve you,' retorted Zoë. 'Little ewe-lamb,' said the Tartar, 'the heart of Tocktamish is fluttering for you like a moth in a lamp. For one kiss you shall have anything you ask!' 'Do you understand that I mean to starve you?' Zoë asked sternly. 'Oh no, my beautiful pink-and-white rabbit! You will not be so hard-hearted! And besides, if you will not let me out and give me a kiss, my men will come presently and burn Carlo's house down, and I shall carry you away! Ha ha! You had not thought of it! But Tocktamish is not caught in the trap like a cub. He is an old wolf, and knows the forest. My men know I am here, and if I do not go back to them within this hour they will come to get me. That was agreed, and I can wait as long as that. Then sixty of them will come, and before night we shall take Carlo to the Emperor and give him up, and tell all we know; and to-morrow morning he will be on a stake in the middle of the Hippodrome, and it will be the third day before he is quite dead! Ha ha! I remember how we watched that old scoundrel Michael Rhangabé! I and my men were on duty at that execution!' Zoë's cheeks turned ghastly white, and her eyes gleamed dangerously. If there had been a weapon in her hand at that moment she could have aimed well through the grating, and Tocktamish's days would have ended abruptly. But on the other side of the bars the drunken Tartar was laughing at his own skill in frightening her, for he thought she turned pale from fear. 'Can no one silence this brute?' she cried in a tone that trembled with anger. 'It is easily done,' said a voice she knew. She turned and looked down from the little elevation of the stone seat, and she saw the impassive face of Gorlias Pietrogliant looking up to her. 'Come into the house, Kokóna,' he said, holding up a hand to help her down. 'We will send him a pitcher of Messer Carlo's oldest wine to help him pass an hour before his men come to burn the house down!' Zoë understood the wisdom of the advice; Tocktamish would drink himself into a stupor in a short time. 'The astrologer is right,' she said to the servants. 'Come in with me, all of you.' She led the way, but Gorlias lingered a moment, stepped upon the stone seat, and spoke to the prisoner in a low voice. 'They will be here in half an hour,' he said. 'Meanwhile I will send you wine to drink. Are you hungry?' 'Hungry?' Tocktamish laughed at the recollection of the peacock. 'I never dined better! But send me some wine, and when we divide, I will have that white-faced girl for my share. The men may have the money here. Tell them so.' He slapped the well-filled leathern sack at his girdle as he spoke. 'As you please,' Gorlias answered indifferently. He stepped to the ground again and reached the door in time to enter with the last of the train that followed Zoë. In the dining-hall things had been left as they were when Tocktamish and Omobono went out. The table was in confusion, and flooded with wine that had run down to the floor, and two or three chairs were upset. Gorlias filled a silver pitcher with Chian; but when he turned towards the window Zoë was the only one who saw him empty into the wine the contents of a small vial which he seemed to have had ready in the palm of his hand. He called Carlo's man. 'Take it to him,' he said. 'You can easily pass it through the bars.' 'It is not much wine,' observed the man doubtfully. 'He will drink that at a draught.' 'If he asks for more, fill the pitcher again,' answered Gorlias. 'If he falls asleep, let me know.' The man went off. 'Clear away all that,' said Zoë to the men-servants who stood looking on. 'The master must not find this confusion when he comes home.' Her tone and her manner imposed obedience, and besides, they knew that Tocktamish was safe for a while. They began to clear the table at once, and Zoë left the room followed by Gorlias and her two maids, who had been silent witnesses of what had passed. Upstairs, they left her alone with the astrologer, and disappeared to discuss in whispers the wonderful things that were happening in the house. 'Where is he?' asked Zoë, as soon as the maids were gone. 'He is in a dry cistern near the north wall of the city.' 'Hiding?' 'No--a prisoner. In escaping last night he ran among the soldiers who were to have helped us, and they held him for a ransom. The Tartar came to extort the money. You know all.' 'At least, he is safe for the present,' Zoë said, but very doubtfully, for she did not half believe what she said. 'No,' Gorlias answered; 'he is not safe for long, and we must get him out. They demand a ransom, but they know well enough that even if they get it they will not dare to let him go free, since he could hang them all by a word.' 'What will they do?' 'If they can get the money they will let him starve to death in the cistern. If they do not, they will give him up to Andronicus for the reward. The Emperor has proclaimed that he will give ten pounds of gold to any one who will bring him Carlo Zeno, dead or alive. That is not enough.' 'The Emperor knows it was he?' asked Zoë with increasing anxiety. 'Yes.' 'How?' 'I do not know. Some one has betrayed us.' 'Us all?' 'I fear so.' 'But you yourself? Do you dare go about?' 'I have many disguises, and they who know the fisherman do not know the astrologer.' 'But if you should be taken?' 'A man cannot change his destiny. But look here. I have something from Johannes already. He has changed his mind; he regrets not having let us take him out last night, and he sends me this by the captain's wife.' Gorlias produced a parchment document. 'What is it?' 'The gift of Tenedos to Venice.' 'Ah! If Messer Carlo were only free!' 'Yes--if!' Gorlias shook his head thoughtfully. 'It will not be easy to send an answer to this,' he went on. 'The woman brought it to me at the risk of her life, and said it would be impossible for her to come again. The guard is doubled, and a very different watch will be kept in future. I do not believe that we can bring Johannes out, as we might have done in spite of those fellows last night. Yet I am sure that if Messer Carlo were at liberty he would try. He would at least send word, in answer to this. But the days are over when we used to send letters up and down by a thread--the tower is watched from the river now.' 'Can you not get in by a disguise?' 'No. There is not the least chance of gaining admittance at present.' 'I could,' said Zoë confidently. 'I am sure I could! If I went in carrying a basket of linen on my head and dressed like a slave-girl in blue cotton with yellow leathern shoes, I am sure they would let me go to the captain's wife.' 'What if your basket were searched and the letter found?' 'I would put it into my shoe. They would not look for it there.' 'You would run a fearful risk.' 'For him, if it were of any use,' Zoë answered. 'But it will not help him at all, and if anything happened to me he would be sorry. Besides, why should we send a message that pretends to come from Messer Carlo when he himself is a prisoner?' 'This is the case,' Gorlias answered. 'The soldiers will never let him out till they feel safe themselves; and the only way to make them sure that there is no danger is really and truly to bring Johannes out and set him on the throne again. So long as Andronicus reigns and may take vengeance on them, they will keep Messer Carlo a prisoner to give up at any moment, or to starve him to death for their own safety--unless they murder him outright. But I do not believe that any ten of them would dare to set upon him, for they know him well.' Zoë smiled, for she was proud to love a man whom ten men would not dare to kill. 'Then the only way to save him is to free Johannes?' she said. 'Yes,' she went on, not waiting for an answer, 'I think you are right. Even if we got them their ten thousand ducats they would not let him out as long as Andronicus is at Blachernæ.' 'That is the truth of it,' Gorlias answered. 'Neither more nor less. Messer Carlo's life depends upon it.' 'Then it must be done, come what may. Thank God, I have a life to risk for him!' 'You have two,' said Gorlias quietly. 'You have mine also.' 'You are very loyal to Johannes, even to risking death. Is that what you mean?' 'More than that.' 'For Messer Carlo, then?' Zoë asked. 'You owe him some great debt of gratitude?' 'I never saw him until quite lately,' Gorlias answered. 'You need not know why I am ready to die in this attempt, Kokóna Arethusa.' Some one knocked at the outer door; Zoë clapped her hands for her maids, and one of them went to the entrance. The voice of Zeno's man spoke from outside. 'The Tartar is fast asleep already,' he said, 'and I can hear the secretary moaning as if he were in great pain; but I cannot see him through the window. He must be somewhere in the room, for it is his voice.' Zoë made a movement to go towards the door, but Gorlias raised his hand. 'I will see to it,' he said, 'I will have the fellow taken back to his quarters.' Zoë bit her lip for she knew that it would be cruel and cowardly to hurt even such a ruffian as Tocktamish, while he was helpless under the drug Gorlias had given him. But the words he had spoken rankled deep, and it was not likely that she should forget them. 'Do as you will,' she said. Half an hour later poor little Omobono was in his bed, and Zeno's man was giving him a warm infusion of marsh-mallows and camomile for his shaken nerves. The money-bags and the papers had been restored to the strong box in the counting-house, and Tocktamish the Tartar, sunk in a beatific slumber, was being carried to his quarters in a hired palanquin by four stalwart bearers. That was the end of the memorable feast in Carlo Zeno's house. But Zoë sat by the open window, and her heart beat sometimes very fast and sometimes very slow; for she understood that the plight of the man she loved was desperate indeed. CHAPTER XVII The position of Zeno was quite clear to Zoë now, and a great wave of happiness lifted her and bore her on with it as she realised that she might save his life just when his chances looked most hopeless, and that whether she succeeded or failed her own must certainly be staked for his. Heroism is nearer the surface in women than in most men, and often goes quite as deep. Zoë had understood very suddenly how matters stood, and that Tocktamish and his men meant to let Zeno perish, simply because he might ruin them all if he regained his liberty; or, if it were found out that he was taken, they intended to hand him over to Andronicus. It was not at all likely that they would set him free even if they got the great ransom they demanded. But if by any means Johannes could be brought suddenly from his prison, all Constantinople would rise in revolution to set him on the throne, and it would be as dangerous to keep his friend Zeno in confinement as it now seemed rash to his captors to let him out. The first thing to be done was to reach Johannes himself and warn him, and this could only be accomplished by a woman. Gorlias knew the soldiers, and had as much influence with them as any one, perhaps, and whatever could be done from without he would do; yet it was quite certain that the men could not be got together again unless Johannes were actually free. The difficulty lay there. To reach him was one thing, and was within the bounds of possibility; to bring him out would be quite another. But Zoë had confidence in the devotion of the captain's wife, of whom Gorlias had told her, and believed that in such a case two women could do more than ten men. Yet she saw that it might be fatal to let the imprisoned Emperor know that Zeno was himself a prisoner. To prevent this she conceived the plan of writing a letter in the Venetian's name, accepting on behalf of the Republic the gift of Tenedos, and promising instant help and liberty. Zeno had given his word that he would renew the attempt for the sake of Tenedos, though for nothing else; this condition being accepted, she knew that nothing could hinder him from keeping his word if he were free. She would therefore only be writing for him what he himself would write if he could; and besides, if she needed a more valid excuse, it would be done to save his life. Her learning stood her in good stead now as she carefully penned the answer on stout Paduan paper. She made Zeno thank the Emperor on behalf of the Serene Republic for his generous gift, and say that he was ready, that not a moment should be lost, and that in an hour the sovereign should be restored to his people, or Carlo Zeno would die in the attempt. This last phrase, as it ran from her pen, seemed to her a little too theatrical to be Zeno's own, but she determined to let it stand for the sake of the impression it should make on Johannes. Zeno would no more have mentioned such a trifle as the risk of life and limb in anything he meant to do than seamen would stop to talk of danger when ordered to shorten sail in a dangerous gale. Such things are a part of the game. No sailor will spin a yarn about a storm unless he has seen the Flying Dutchman or the Sea Serpent or the Man in the Top; he is in danger half his life. But the average modern soldier, who may be under fire three or four times in his career, repeats the story of his battles to any one who will listen. Zoë did not know whether Johannes had ever seen Zeno's handwriting or not, but that mattered little in those days, when many fine gentlemen could not write their own letters. She folded the sheet neatly in a small square, and placed it in her shoe by way of experiment, to see whether it would stay there while she walked. She did all this while Gorlias was gone, and before he came back the afternoon was half over, though the spring days were growing long. He told her that the Tartar was safe in his quarters, where he would probably sleep till midnight at the very least, to the infinite rage and disgust of his men. They had expected him to return laden with gold or with the secure promise of it, and he had come back not only empty-handed, but hopelessly drunk; and as they knew him well, but did not know that he had swallowed a dose of opium that would have sent a tiger to sleep, they meditated in gloomy thirst on the quantity of strong wine he must have absorbed during an absence which had only lasted two hours. What he had told Zoë of their coming to fetch him if he stayed too long had been a pure invention to frighten her; they did not even know where he had been, for he had merely announced his intention of going out to collect Zeno's ransom from the Venetian merchants, and his reputation for strength and ferocity was such that they had not dreamed of his needing help. Thus much Gorlias had found out, and he had also ascertained that the men were in a thoroughly bad temper in consequence of the turn affairs had taken, and much more inclined to murder Zeno than to let him out. As for his whereabouts, Gorlias only knew that he was in one of the many dry cisterns, which existed under old Constantinople, and which had never been in use since the crusaders had cut the aqueducts and sacked the city more than a hundred and seventy years earlier. The men who had shut up Zeno knew where he was, but it was very likely that they had not told their comrades. In those last days of the Empire the foreign mercenaries were little better than bands of robbers, half-trained at that, who preyed on the peasant part of the population, obeying their officers only when it was worth the trouble, and not even practising thieves' honour in the division of plunder. Not a day passed then without brawl and bloodshed amongst the soldiery; hardly a night went by without some act of violence and depredation for which they were responsible. They had stolen under Johannes, they robbed under Andronicus; under Johannes restored, they would steal again. And they drank perpetually. If Sultan Amurad had been the man that Mohammed the Conqueror turned out to be, the Turks would have been in possession of Constantinople fully eighty years before they actually stormed it, and with a tenth of the loss. If Zeno had relied on the eight hundred soldiers who had agreed to make a revolution for Johannes, he had done so because he knew they could be trusted to rise if there was a chance of plundering the palace and of cutting the throats of a few hundred of their divers countrymen who had been preferred before them as a body-guard, and were therefore their sworn enemies. But the instant those delightful prospects disappeared they cared no more who was Emperor than a cur cares who throws him a bone; the existing condition of things was good enough for them, and they would risk nothing to change it, unless change meant wine, women, and loot. Many of them were in reality Mohammedans like Tocktamish, and looked upon all Christians, including their employers, as their lawful prey--as dogs, moreover, and no great fighters at that, but mostly cowardly curs. It was agreeable to live amongst them because one could beat them and drink wine without the disapproval of the greybeards; but as for respecting them, a Tartar like Tocktamish would as soon have thought of fearing them. Zoë knew all this, and so did Gorlias, and they agreed that unless Johannes could be brought visibly before the soldiers there was little chance of success, and none of saving Zeno. The difficulty lay in the fact that Johannes was kept in a place even more inaccessible than Zeno's cistern. The whole matter was a vicious circle. He could not be set free unless the troops rose for him; but the troops would not rise unless they saw him in their midst; and if there were no rising Zeno would be starved to death in the well. Gorlias Pietrogliant was a man of resources, but the problem completely baffled him. He stood silent and in thought at Zoë's window; she sat quite motionless on the great divan, watching him and thinking too. Her knees were drawn up almost to her chin, and her folded hands clasped them while she looked straight at the astrologer's back with unwinking eyes. Neither he nor she knew how long they kept silence; it might have been five minutes, or it might have been half an hour. Time plays queer tricks when people are in great danger or in great distress. Then Zoë's expression began to change very slowly, as an idea dawned upon her. It was as if she saw something between her and Gorlias, something that took shape by degrees, something new and unexpected that presently grew to be a whole picture, and from a picture became a real scene, full of living people, moving and talking; the tender mouth opened a little as if she were going to speak, and the delicate nostril quivered, the colour spread like dawn in her pale cheeks, and a deep warm light came into her eyes. When the scene was over and the vision disappeared, she nodded slowly, as if satisfied that in her waking dream she had dreamed true. [Illustration: Then, all at once, he felt that she had received one of those inspirations of the practical sense which visit women who are driven to extremities.] 'I have thought of a way,' she said at last. Gorlias turned, crossed the room, and stood beside her to listen; but he did not think she had any practicable scheme to propose, and at first, while she was speaking, he was much more inclined to follow his own line of thought than hers. Then, all at once, he felt that she had received one of those inspirations of the practical sense which visit women who are driven to extremities, and which have been the wonder of men since Jacob's mother showed him how to steal his father's blessing. It is quite certain that it was a woman who showed Columbus the trick with the egg, when he himself was trying to balance one on its point. Only a woman could have thought of anything so simple. And now, after Gorlias had vainly racked his ingenious brain for an idea, it was the girl that suggested the only possible one. He grasped it easily. 'It is a daring plan, and it could not succeed in broad daylight,' he said, when she had finished, 'but it may at dusk.' 'It must,' Zoë said emphatically. 'If it fails, we shall not see each other again.' 'Not unless it occurs to Andronicus to crucify us together,' Gorlias answered, rather gravely. 'Very much depends on our timing ourselves as exactly as possible.' 'Yes. Let it be a little more than half an hour after sunset, just when the dusk is closing in. Have you everything you need?' 'I can get what is lacking. We have three good hours still before us.' 'Go, then, and do not be late. You know what will happen to me if you do not come just at the right time.' 'You are risking more than I,' Gorlias said. 'I have more to lose, and more to win,' Zoë answered. She was thinking of Zeno,--of life with him, of life without him, and of the life she would give for his. But Gorlias wondered at her courage, for it was held nothing in those days to tear a living man or woman to shreds, piecemeal, on the mere suspicion of treason, and that would surely be her fate if he could not carry out precisely and successfully the plan she had thought of. A delay of half an hour might mean death to her, though it would not of necessity affect the result so far as Johannes and Zeno were concerned. Gorlias left her to make his own preparations. When he was gone Zoë sent Yulia for Zeno's own man, Vito, the Venetian boatman. He came and stood on the threshold while she spoke to him, out of the maids' hearing, and in Italian, lest they should creep near and listen. 'Vito,' said Zoë, 'how is the secretary?' 'Excellency,' the Venetian answered, 'fear is an ugly sickness, which makes healthy men tremble worse than the fever does.' He either forgot that he was supposed to be speaking to a slave who had no more claim to be called 'Excellency' than he had himself, and less, if anything; or else he had made up his mind that this beautiful Arethusa whom he had to-day seen for the first time, was not a slave at all, but a great lady in disguise. 'You are never frightened, are you, Vito?' she asked with a smile. 'I?' Vito grinned. 'Am I of iron, or of stone? Or am I perhaps a lion? When there is fear I am afraid.' 'But the master is never frightened,' suggested Zoë. 'Is he of stone, then?' 'Oh, he!' Vito laughed now, and shrugged his shoulders. 'Would you compare me with the master? Then compare copper with gold. The master is the master, and that is enough, but I am only a sailor man in his service. If there is fighting, I fight while I see that I am the stronger, but when I see that I may die I run away. We are all thus.' 'But surely you would not run away and leave Messer Carlo to be killed, would you?' 'No,' Vito answered quite simply. 'That would be another affair. It would be shame to go home alive if the master were killed. When one must die, one must, as God wills. It may be for the master, it may be for Venice. But for myself, I ask you? Why should I die for nothing? I run away. It is more sensible.' 'You need not risk being killed if you do what I am going to ask,' Zoë said, for after talking with the man she liked his honest face, and thought none the less of him for his frankness. 'It is a very simple matter.' 'What is it, Excellency?' 'You need not call me that, Vito,' answered Zoë. 'I want you to row me at sunset to the landing which is nearest to the palace gate. It must be the dirty little one on this side of the Amena tower, is it not?' 'That is it. But without the master's orders----' Vito looked at her doubtfully, for he had been reminded that she considered herself a slave, and it occurred to him that she meant to escape in Zeno's absence. 'Messer Carlo would wish me to go, if he were here,' said Zoë quietly, and not at all as if she were insisting, for she saw what was the matter. 'I have no doubt it is as you say,' Vito answered. 'But I have no orders.' 'There is a message from the master to some one in the palace,' Zoë explained. 'No one but I can deliver it.' 'That is easily said,' observed Vito bluntly. 'There are no orders.' Zoë felt the blood rising to her forehead at the man's rudeness and distrust of her, but she controlled herself, for much depended on obtaining what she wished. 'It is not a message,' she said; 'it is a letter.' 'Where is it?' asked Vito incredulously. 'I will show it to you,' Zoë answered, but she first turned to the maids, who waited at the end of the room. 'Go and prepare me the bath,' she said. The two disappeared, though they did not believe that their mistress really wished to bathe again so soon. When they were gone, she stooped and took the letter from her shoe, unfolded it, and spread it out for Vito to see. The effect it made upon him was instantaneous; he looked at it carefully, and took a corner of it between his thumb and finger. 'This is the paper on which the master writes,' he said, as if convinced. It did not occur to him that the slave Arethusa could write at all, nor any one else in the house except Omobono; and as for the latter, if he had written anything he must have done so under Zeno's orders. Writing of any sort commanded his profound and almost superstitious respect. 'This is certainly a letter from the master,' he said, satisfied at last, after what he considered a thoroughly conscientious inspection. 'And he wishes me to deliver it,' Zoë said. 'If I am to do that, you must be good enough to take me to the landing in the boat. There is no other way.' 'I could take the letter myself,' Vito suggested. 'No. Only a woman will be allowed to pass, where this must go.' Vito began to understand, and nodded his head wisely. 'It is for Handsome John,' he said, with conviction, and fixing his eyes on Zoë's. 'It is for the other Emperor, whom the master wishes to set free.' 'Yes--since you have guessed it,' Zoë answered. 'Will you take me now?' 'You will take one of your slaves with you, as you do when you go out in the boat with the secretary, I suppose?' Vito still felt a little hesitation. 'No. I must go alone with you. And I myself shall be dressed like a slave, and I shall have a basket of things to carry on my head to the wife of the gaoler.' 'I see,' said Vito, who really loved adventure for its own sake, and was much less inclined to run away from danger than he represented. 'Did you say you wished to go at sunset?' 'Yes.' 'I shall be ready. But it will be better to take an old boat, and I will put on ragged clothes, to look like a hired boatman.' 'Yes; that will be better.' Vito went away, delighted with the prospect before him. He was too young and too true a Venetian not to look forward with pleasure to rowing the beautiful Arethusa up the Golden Horn, though he was only a servant and she was the master's most treasured possession. He felt, too, some manly pride in the thought of possibly protecting her, for he meant to follow her ashore and look on from a distance, to see whether she got safely into the tower, and he would wait until she came out. The master would expect that much of him, at least. As yet, neither Vito nor any member of the household, except Zoë, knew that Zeno was a prisoner, held for ransom. It had pleased him to go out of his house during the previous night, and some important business detained him; that was all. When he was at leisure he would come home. The men-servants who had waited on the guests and had heard Tocktamish's words, to the effect that Zeno had sent him for money, looked upon the statement as a clumsy trick which the half-drunken robber was trying to play in Zeno's absence, and as nothing more. But they had been far too badly frightened to stay and listen, as has been seen. To Vito, who was, nevertheless, by far the best of them, it had been a matter of utter indifference whether the Tartar cut the throats of the four guests or not, compared with the urgent necessity of keeping out of his reach. If the master had been present another side of their character would have come into play, but as he was absent they had thought of their own safety first. CHAPTER XVIII The sun had set, and the wide court of Blachernæ was filled with purple light to the wall tops, like a wine-vat full to the brim; and everything that was in the glow took colour from it, as silver does in claret, the polished trappings of the guards' uniforms, the creamy marble steps of the palace, the white Tunisian charger of the officer who rode in just then, and the swallows that circled round and round the courtyard. The world moved in that short deep dream that comes just when the sun has slipped away to rest, when the light is everywhere at once, so that things cast no shadows on the ground, because they glow from within, as in fairyland, or perhaps in heaven. The officer rode in on his charger, and after him entered a girl slave, dressed in coarse blue cotton, and carrying on her head a small round basket, which was covered with a clean white cloth. The four corners of the napkin hung down, and one of them would have flapped across her face if she had not held it between her teeth to keep it down. It partly hid her features, and her head was tied up in a blue cotton kerchief passed twice round and knotted upon her forehead. She limped a little as she walked. What could be seen of her face was pale and quiet, and had a rather fixed look. She was walking boldly through the gate, without slackening her pace, when one of the two sentinels stopped her, and asked where she was going. She stood still, and one hand steadied the basket on her head, while the other pointed to the Amena tower. 'My mistress sends some fine wheat bread and cream cheese to the wife of the captain who keeps the tower,' said Zoë, affecting the mincing accent very common with female slaves and Greek ladies' maids. The second sentinel, returning on his short beat, now came up and stood on her other side. He was a big Bulgarian, and he lifted one corner of the cloth and looked down into the basket, merely for the sake of detaining the girl. He saw the wheaten loaves and the cream cheese neatly disposed on a second napkin, and the cheese was nested in green leaves to keep it fresh. Both the soldiers at once thought of tasting it with the points of their daggers, but at that moment the officer of the watch strolled out of the guard-house, a magnificent young man in scarlet and gold. The two sentinels at once turned their backs on the cheese and Zoë, and marched away in opposite directions on their beats, leaving her standing in the middle. The officer was far too high and mighty a person to look at a slave-girl or her basket, and Zoë therefore went on without turning her head, taking it for granted that she was now free to enter. In her baggy blue cotton clothes, and with her face almost covered by the napkin, there was nothing about her to attract attention, unless it were her slightly limping gait; and she instinctively made an effort to walk evenly, for she could not help feeling ashamed of being suddenly lame, as perfectly sound and healthy people do. But she realised that the folded letter was in the wrong shoe and increased her lameness, whereas if she had carried it in the other it might have made walking easier. She went from under the great gate into the liquid purple light in the court, and it was pleasant to be in it. But then again it made her think of yesterday, when she had sat in her window at sunset, not dreaming of all that was to happen to her in one night and one day. It made her think of the man she loved so dearly, imprisoned somewhere under the great city, starving and thirsting no doubt, and face to face with thoughts of death; and it was to save him that she was crossing the courtyard of Blachernæ disguised as a household slave. It was because there was no other way; and if Gorlias Pietrogliant failed her, or came too late, the end would overtake her in a few hours, or perhaps quite suddenly, which would be more merciful. She knew what she was doing, and she did not deceive herself. They would put out her eyes first; but that would be the least of the cruel things they would do to her, if Gorlias failed. She was only a weak girl, after all, and once or twice, when she thought of the pain, a sharp little shiver ran down her back to her very heels, and things swam before her for an instant in the deep sea of colour; but that only lasted for a moment, and when she reached the foot of the tower and went in under the archway that led to the door, she was thinking of Zeno again, and of nothing else. It was as Gorlias had told her. A very different watch was set there since the attempt of the previous night, and she found herself face to face with an obstacle she had not anticipated. The iron door was shut and was guarded by two huge Africans in black mail armour, who stood on either side with drawn scimitars. They looked over her head as she approached them, and they seemed to take no notice of her existence. She thought she had never seen such expressionless faces as theirs; the features were as shiny and motionless as bronze, and the purple haze of the sunset without filled the deep arch and lent them an unnatural colour which was positively terrifying. 'If you please, kind sirs,' Zoë began as she stood still, 'my mistress sends some fine wheat bread and fresh cream cheese to the wife of the captain.' She might as well have spoken to statues; neither of the negroes paid the slightest attention. But she was not to be put off so easily. 'If you please,' she repeated with pleading emphasis and more loudly, 'my mistress----' She stopped speaking in the middle of the sentence, suddenly scared by the immobility of the two black men, and by their size, and by the purple glare that was reflected from their great polished scimitars, of which one noiseless sweep could sever her head from her body. They were like the genii in one of those tales of the Arabian Nights which Greek story-tellers were then just learning from the Persians, and from the Tartar merchants of Samarcand and Tashkent. Zoë had listened to them by the hour when she was a little girl, and now she suddenly felt an irrational conviction that she had dreamed herself into one of them, and that the imprisoned Emperor was guarded by supernatural beings. However, when she looked at the motionless features and at the broad, polished blades, she did not feel that painful shiver which had run down her when she had thought of being tortured by the people of the palace, and she soon took courage again and began to speak a third time. 'If you please,' she said, but she got no further, for she had gently plucked at the mailed sleeve of the man on her right, to attract his attention, and he moved at once, and bent down a little. He touched his ear with his left forefinger and shook his head slowly to show that he was deaf, and pointed to his companion and back to his own ear and shook his head again; and then, to Zoë's horror, he opened his enormous mouth just before her eyes, and she saw that it was empty. He had no tongue. Johannes was guarded by deaf mutes, and Zoë knew Constantinople and the ways of the palace well enough to understand that they were placed there to make an end of any one, man or woman, who should attempt to pass. She tried signs, now. She took her basket from her head and set it down on the step between the sentinels, and crouched on her heels to uncover it and show the contents. The men saw and nodded, and then inclined their heads to one side in that peculiar way which means indifference all over the East. And indeed they did not care whether the basket held cheese or sweetmeats, and their faces grew stony again as they looked outwards, over her head. She covered up her little basket disconsolately and rose to her feet. The glow was beginning to fade in the courtyard, and she felt her heart sink as the shadows deepened. It was absolutely necessary to the success of the dangerous enterprise on which she and Gorlias had embarked, that Johannes himself, or at least the captain's wife should be warned of what was to take place in less than half an hour. If this could not be done, everything might go wrong at the last minute, their cleverly concerted trick would fail and be exposed, and she and Gorlias, and Zeno himself, would probably pay for their audacity with their lives. The closed door between the sentinels was covered with iron and studded with big nails. It was perfectly clear that it must be opened from within, if at all, and that the men themselves would have to knock or make some other signal by sound in order to obtain entrance for any one who was really authorised to go in. It was also clear that if the men on the other side of the door were stone deaf like the two guards, they could not hear any such knocking, and no entrance would be possible at all except when those within opened for some reason of their own or at fixed hours. Again, thought Zoë, it followed that there was probably some one near who could hear sounds from without, and there was always a bare possibility, in such times, that this person might be a secret friend to the prisoner, though supposed to be one of his gaolers. All these thoughts flashed across her mind in a few seconds, while she was covering her basket. She therefore took rather more time over this than was necessary, and as the mutes did not show signs of driving her away, she at once began to sing, quite sure that they could not hear her. It was a forlorn hope, indeed, but anything was worth trying. Her voice sounded loud and clear under the archway:-- Over the water to my love, for the hour is come! The water, the blue water, the water salt and the water fresh! Open, my very dear love, open thy door to me, For I have come swiftly over the water---- At this point, to Zoë's inexpressible amazement and delight, the door really opened, and she almost choked for sheer joy. The captain's wife appeared in the dim evening light, standing well within, and Zoë recognised her at once from the description Gorlias had given of her. The sentinels, being perfectly deaf, did not at first know that the door had been opened, as they stood looking straight before them. The stout woman spoke in a low voice. 'By four toes and by five toes,' she said, by way of answer to the words Zoë had sung. The girl lost no time, for there was none to lose, and though there was little light she saw that there were four or five more armed Ethiopians in the small chamber, so that it would be impossible to deliver her letter. 'Tell him from Carlo Zeno to be ready at once,' she said quickly, 'and not to show surprise at anything that happens.' The deaf mutes outside now perceived that she was speaking with some one, and that the entrance behind them was open. She had just handed her basket to the captain's wife when the two turned together to see who had opened, but almost at the same instant the heavy iron door swung quickly on its hinges again and shut with a clang that echoed out to the courtyard. Zoë sprang back hastily lest the door itself should strike her as it closed, and the quick movement hurt her a little, for she made a false step on the foot with which she limped, turning it slightly as her weight came upon it. That one step nearly cost her life, for though the sentinels were deaf and dumb they were not blind. She thought they were going to let her go away unhindered, and she was already almost out of the archway when she felt herself seized by the arms from behind. When she had stumbled, her low shoe had turned a little, and the folded letter, now useless, had fallen out. As it was white, the guards had seen it instantly on the dark pavement, and one of them had picked it up while the other had caught her. Zoë instinctively struggled with all her might for a few seconds, but the dumb man twisted one of her arms behind her till it was agony to move, and she was powerless. Her captor now handed her over to his companion, who had sheathed his scimitar and had placed the letter inside his steel cap. She could not look round, but she felt that the grip on her twisted wrist changed, and she was pushed out into the courtyard and made to walk in the direction of the palace. She could not help limping much more than before, and in the grasp of the big Ethiopian she felt what a small weak thing she would be in the tormentors' hands if Gorlias did not come in time. The purple light had almost faded below, and the grey dusk was creeping up out of the ground, though the high upper story of the marble palace was still bathed in the evening glow, and still a few swallows circled round the eaves. Zoë looked up to the vast cornices and at the fleecy pink clouds that floated in the sky, and as she was forced along, almost as fast as she could walk, she wondered whether she should ever again see the bright noonday sun. It would not take long to kill her if Gorlias did not come in time. There were many men coming and going now, and there were guards in scarlet, drawn up at the entrance to the palace as if they were waiting. Some slaves, hastening away, paused a moment to watch Zoë go by, smooth-faced creatures who lived among the Emperor's women. 'There goes five hundred ducats' worth!' laughed one, in a voice like a girl's. 'What has she done?' asked another, of the dumb Ethiopian. The speaker was a newcomer in the palace, and the others jeered at him for not knowing that the man was one of the mutes. And he pushed and dragged Zoë along without noticing them. She looked straight before her now, at the palace door, and as she went, she was in a kind of dream, and she wondered what the room to which she was being taken would be like, the place where she was presently to be tortured if Gorlias did not come in time; she wondered whether it would be light or dark, and what the colour of the walls would be. The African hurt her very much as he forced her along, though she made no resistance; but she did not think of the pain she felt, nor of the pain she would surely be made to feel presently. It was as if she were detached from her own personality, and could speculate about what was going to happen to her, and about the men who would ask her questions, and about the queer-looking instruments of torture that would be brought, and even the colour of the executioner's hair. She fancied him a red-haired man with ugly, yellow eyes and bad teeth that he showed. She did not know whether it were fear or courage that so took her out of herself. But all the time she was listening for a distant sound that might come, or that might not; and her hearing grew so sharp that she could have heard it a mile away, and the distance between her and the palace door grew shorter very quickly, and the ruthless mute urged her along faster and faster, though she limped so badly. Then her heart leapt and stood still a moment, and the Ethiopian's grasp relaxed a little, and he slackened his pace. Not that he heard what she heard, for he was stone deaf; but the guards who stood about the door had begun to range themselves in even ranks on either side, and a tall officer made signs to the African to stand out of the way. The air rang with the music of distant silver trumpets, there was a subdued hum of many voices and the trampling of many horses' hoofs on the hard earth outside the court. 'The Emperor comes!' cried the officer, again motioning the mute and his prisoner away. The man understood well enough, and dragged her aside quickly and roughly out of the straight way, but not out of sight; and the sounds grew louder, and the trumpet-notes clearer, as the imperial cavalcade passed in under the great gate. First there rode a score of guards on their white horses; six running footmen came next, in short hose and red tunics that fitted close to their bodies and glared in the twilight; then two officers of the household on their chargers; and young Andronicus himself rode in on a bay Arab mare between two ministers of state, followed by many more guards who pressed close upon him to protect him from any treacherous attack. He was dressed all in cloth of gold, and his tall Greek cap was wrought with gold and jewels; but the day had gone down, and neither the metal nor the stones gave any light, while the scarlet uniforms of the guards and footmen surged about him like waves of blood in the gathering dusk. The Ethiopian held Zoë pinioned by the arms and looked over her head as the Emperor came near. Andronicus had pale and suspicious eyes that searched every crowd for danger, and saw peril everywhere. He hung his head a little, his jaw was heavy, his lip was loose, and his uneasy glance wandered continually hither and thither. There was still plenty of light near the palace, and Zoë saw every little thing; and the cloth of gold he wore was lit up again by the reflexion from the marble walls. He saw the girl, too, but though her hands were behind her, he did not see at once that the African held them, for she stood quite still and met his gaze. Then he perceived that the face was the most lovely he had ever seen, and he made a motion in the saddle that was like the rising of the snake when its prey is near, and his pale eyes gleamed, and his loose lower lip shook and moved against the upper one. He drew rein and spoke in a low tone to the minister on his right, a Greek with a fawning face, who instantly made a sign to the girl to come nearer; and the Ethiopian mute saw the gesture, and pushed her forward with one hand, close to the Emperor's stirrup, and with the other hand he took his steel cap very carefully from his head, drawing it down close to his head and over his ear so that the letter should not fall out; then, still grasping Zoë's wrist, he held the helmet up like a cup, so that Andronicus might see what was in it. The action needed no explaining, for the young usurper had himself ordered that his father should be guarded by the dumb Ethiopians after the alarm of the previous night. The Emperor looked down at the girl's beautiful white face, but he took the letter from the soldier's steel cap and spread it out, and read it quickly, and then passed it to the minister at his elbow, who read it too. He looked at Zoë again, but in his eyes her beauty was all gone at once. She was one of those monsters that were always conspiring against him, against his throne and his life; she was one of those thousands whom he saw nightly in his dreams of fear, stealing upon him when he was alone and helpless, to blind him and kill him, and to bear his crowned father to the throne high on their shoulders. Zoë might have been as lovely as Aphrodite herself, just wafted from the foam of the sea by the breath of spring; to Andronicus she would have been but one of the countless evil beings who for ever plotted his destruction. But this one was in his power. He sat on his horse and looked down at her, and his loose lips smiled; yet her face was still and proud, and in her poor blue cotton slave's dress she faced him like a young goddess. 'Who sent you with this?' he asked in the deep silence, and every man there listened for her answer. 'Since you have read it, you know,' she answered, and there was no tremor in her voice. 'Take care! Where is this Venetian, this Zeno?' 'I do not know.' 'Take care, again! I ask, where is he?' Zoë was silent for a moment, and though she did not take her eyes from the young Emperor's face she listened intently for a distant sound that did not come. 'I do not know where he is,' she said at last, 'but I think you will see him before long, for he is coming here.' 'Here?' Andronicus was taken by surprise. 'Here?' he repeated in wonder. 'Yes, here,' Zoë answered, 'and soon. He has business here to-night.' 'The girl is mad,' said the Emperor, looking towards the ministers. 'Quite mad, your august Majesty,' said one. 'Evidently out of her mind, Sire,' echoed the other. 'It will be well to put out her eyes and let her go.' The one who had spoken first, the fawning Greek, made a sign to an officer near him, and the latter gave an order to one of the running footmen who stood waiting. The latter instantly ran in through the great open doorway of the palace. Where Andronicus was, the torturer was never hard to find. 'And pray,' asked the Emperor, with an ugly smile, 'what possible business can a Venetian merchant have here at this hour? Will you please to tell us?' 'A business that will be soon despatched, if God will,' answered Zoë. She could not look away from the man who had murdered Michael Rhangabé, and though she knew what she was risking if she did not gain time, the longing for just vengeance was too strong for her, so that she could not control her speech, and in her clear young voice Andronicus heard an accent that struck terror to his heart. 'She is not mad!' he exclaimed in sudden anxiety. 'She knows something! Make her speak!' While the words were on his lips the running footman returned, and after him another man came quickly, carrying a worn leathern bag. He was very tall and thin, and he stooped, he had the face of a corpse and there was no light in his eyes. Zoë did not see him, but he came and stood behind her, close to the Ethiopian, and he fumbled in his bag; and all around the uniforms of the guard were as red as blood in the twilight. 'I am not afraid to speak, since I am caught,' Zoë said, answering the Emperor's words, 'and what I say is true. For what you owe me, you owe to many and many more, and the name of that debt is blood!' 'She is raving!' cried Andronicus in an unsteady voice. 'No, I am not mad,' Zoë answered, speaking loud and clear. 'Your reckoning has been due these two years, and a man is coming within the hour to claim it, and you shall pay all, both to others and to me, whether you will or not!' 'Who is this creature?' asked the Emperor, but his cheeks were whiter now. Not a sound broke the silence, and the man with the leathern bag crept a little nearer to the defenceless girl, and the Ethiopian's grip tightened on her wrists. From somewhere beyond the walls of the courtyard the neighing of a horse broke the stillness. 'Who is this girl that dares me within my own gates?' Andronicus asked again, turning to his ministers and officers. The Greek with the fawning face bent in his saddle towards the young Emperor as if he were prostrating himself, and he spoke in a very low voice. 'Your Majesty would do well to have her tongue torn out before she says more.' 'Who is she, I say?' cried the sovereign, suddenly furious, as cowards can be. No one spoke. The corpse-faced man crept nearer to Zoë, his dull eyes fixed on her features. Beyond the wall and far off the unseen horse neighed again. It was growing darker, but all around the scarlet tunics of the guards were as red as blood. Then the answer came. The twisted lips of the tormentor moved slowly, and words came from them in a thin, harsh voice, like the creaking of the rack. 'She is Michael Rhangabé's daughter.' 'The Protosparthos?' The Emperor's voice shook again. The corpse-faced man nodded twice in assent, and his thin lips writhed hideously when Zoë's eyes fell on him. 'I saw her at the prison when I took him out to die,' he said. His bony hand, all knotty and stained from his horrid work, took the girl's delicate chin, forcing her to turn her full face to him; and she quivered from head to foot at his touch. He knew well the convulsive shiver that ran through the victim he touched for the first time; he could feel it in his fingers as the musician feels the strings; he was familiar with it, as the fisherman's hand is with the tremor and tension of his rod when a fish strikes; and he smiled in a ghastly way. 'Yes,' he said, 'it is she.' And he laughed. He held her by the chin and wagged her beautiful head to right and left. Since the Emperor had spoken no sound had been heard but the torturer's discordant voice; but now the outraged girl's shriek of fury split the air. 'Wretch!' Her small hands suddenly slipped through the Ethiopian's capacious hold. Before he could catch her she had wrenched herself free from both men and had struck a furious blow full in the torturer's livid face; and though she was but a slender girl her anger gave her a man's strength, and her swiftness lent her a sudden advantage. The man reeled back three paces before he could steady himself again. 'Hold her!' cried Andronicus, for he feared she might have a knife hidden on her, and both her hands were free. But only for that instant. Though the African was huge, he was quick, and he was behind her. Almost before the Emperor had called out, Zoë was a prisoner again, and the man she had struck was close to her with his battered leathern bag. He looked up to Andronicus for a command before he began his work. 'Make her tell what she knows,' the Emperor said, reassured since she was again fast in the African's great hands. He leaned forward a little, the better to hear the words which pain was to draw from Zoë's lips, and the Greek minister settled himself comfortably in the saddle to enjoy the rare amusement of seeing a beautiful and noble girl deliberately tortured before half a hundred men. Some of the guards also pressed upon each other to see; but there were some among them who had served under Rhangabé, and these looked into one another's faces and spoke words almost under their breath, that all together swelled to a low murmur, such as the tide makes on a still night, just when it turns back from the ebb. The sunset had faded, but there was light enough to see the dark bruise across the corpse-like face where Zoë had struck it with all her might. The man opened his old leathern bag, and his stained hands fumbled in it, amongst irons that were brown but not rusty, and thongs plaited with wire, and strangely shaped tools in which there were well-greased screws that turned easily. But all these his knotty fingers rejected. He knew each by the touch. They were good enough for ordinary slaves, or perhaps for a double-dealing steward, or even a lying courtier. For a highborn maiden victim he had an instrument far more refined and exquisitely keen than any of these things, and he treasured it as a very rare possession which never left him day or night; for it had been sent to him from very far away in the south as a present of great value; and it was alive, and needed the warmth of his body constantly lest it should die. But there was something in the bag that belonged to it and must be found before it could be taken from its little cage of silver filigree in the bosom of the corpse-faced man. He found it. His stained hand drew from the bag a dry walnut. With the point of the knife he wore at his belt he split it carefully, and turned the nut out of one of the half shells, tossing the other into the bag. The Greek minister watched him with the deepest interest, but Andronicus drummed impatiently with his gloved fingers on the high gilt pommel of his saddle. Yet it was all very quickly done, and though there was less light there was still enough; and while he waited the Emperor again read the letter Zoë had dropped. But she watched him, calm and fearless, and ready to face death if need be; she wondered what sort of hold Carlo Zeno would take on his neck, when all was known. And she saw red all round him and behind him and beside him up to his knees, the red of the guards' tunics that were like scarlet stains in the twilight air. Once more the restless horse neighed, far off, and another answered him. Then the man was ready. He took his knife and ripped Zoë's blue cotton tunic from her throat to her left shoulder and down her side, and she tried not even to shudder, for she did not know what was coming but she would die bravely; and when she was dead Zeno would come, and Gorlias, and they would avenge her. Death was but death, even by torture, and there were worse things in life which had been spared her. Furthermore, if she died, it would be for a good cause, as well as to help Zeno to be free. Therefore, now that it was all decided, she looked a last time at the face of Andronicus, loose-lipped and cruel, and then shut her eyes and prayed God that she might neither flinch nor utter one word that could hinder the end, if it was at hand, as she still hoped. She felt the chilly air on her shoulder and side, and then something small and hard was pressed against her, just under her arm; and hands that felt like horns, but were horribly quick and skilful, put a bandage round her and drew it tight, and it kept the thing in its place. But under that thing, which was the half walnut shell, something small was alive and moved slowly round and round. There was no real pain at first, but she felt that the slow and delicate irritation might drive her mad. Then, suddenly, a thrill of wild agony ran through her and convulsed her body against her will, but many hands held her now and she could not move. The horrible borer-beetle had begun to work its way into her flesh, under the walnut shell. The corpse-faced man had watched her attentively, and when he saw her start his creaking voice was heard in the stillness. 'She will speak before you can count ten score,' he said. CHAPTER XIX Zoë had closed her eyes to bear the pain better, and a tiny drop of blood slowly trickled from the lip she had bitten in the first moment of the torture. It made a thin, dark line from her mouth downward, a little on the left side, over her white chin. Her breath came in deep and quivering sobs, drawn through her clenched teeth, but no other sound escaped her in those awful seconds. She was praying that death might come soon, but she did not ask for strength to be silent; that she had, for Carlo Zeno's sake, and for the sake of the just vengeance that would overtake Andronicus when she was dead, if only he were not warned of what was perhaps so near. She thought she might die of the pain only; she was sure that she must faint away if it lasted many moments longer. The Emperor bent down in his saddle to see her agonised white face more clearly in the gathering gloom, and to catch the least syllable she might speak; and his loose lip moved, for he was counting to himself, counting the ten score, after which she would be able to bear no more and would tell him where the danger was. For the corpse-faced man knew his business, and his experience had been wide and long, and the Emperor knew that he never made a mistake. Moreover, the Greek minister smiled with sheer pleasure at the sight, and hoped that his master would command them to put the girl to death by very slow torments. The guards, too, crowded upon each other to see, but they were not all silent now; for there were brave men amongst them, savage adventurers from the wild mountains beyond the Black Sea, who feared neither God, nor Emperor, nor man; and they did not like the sight they saw, and they said words one to another in strange tongues which the Greeks could not understand. Andronicus counted slowly to twenty, and then still more slowly to forty, and the tortured girl's sharp breathing irritated him. 'Speak!' he cried, in a tone that was low and angry. 'Tell me where the danger is, or the thing shall eat out your heart!' Then the answer came, but not in Zoë's voice, nor by one voice, but by many, loud and deep; and though the words were confused, some could be heard well enough; and they told the loose-lipped cowardly youth where the danger was, for it was upon him. 'Johannes! Johannes reigns! God and the Emperor! Emperor Johannes!' That was what the voices shouted from the gate, as the multitude swept in, driving the sentinels and guards before them as the gale drives dry leaves. With but one breathing-space for thought and resolve, the guards in their scarlet tunics closed round Andronicus like waves of blood in the deep dusk, and he went down under them, and heard them answer the coming people-- 'Johannes reigns! Emperor Johannes!' Zoë heard the cry through her torment and forgot the pain for one moment, and the next, the dumb Ethiopian who had held her, slit the torturer's bandage and plucked the walnut shell from under her arm, with its living contents, and threw them away; for he had seen Andronicus go down, and knew that there was a new master. Then some of the men, who remembered it afterwards, saw the corpse-faced man grovelling on the ground and searching for his treasure, which could make the toughest victim speak before one could count ten score; for he served the Emperor, whoever he might be, as he and his father before him had served many. No one ever killed the torturer. So he went amongst the trampling feet on his hands and knees, feeling nothing, if so be that he might find his pet and get it back safely into its cage in his bosom. And when he found it still in the walnut shell, by the strange chance that protects all evil, he laughed like a maniac and slipped between the guards' legs on all fours, like a hideous white-faced ape, and ran away into the palace. Zoë had opened her eyes, and the pain was gone, leaving only a throb behind, and she gathered her torn tunic to her neck with one hand as best she could and slipped out of the turmoil; and only she, of all those that heard the first shout, knew how it was that the people were cheering for the delivered Emperor, while Johannes was still shut up in the tower and guarded by the deaf-and-dumb Africans; and in the glorious triumph of her plan she forgot everything else but the man she loved, and he was safe now, beyond all doubt. Was he not the friend of the restored Johannes? The soldiers would not dare, on their lives, to keep him a prisoner now, not for one hour, not for one moment. And there he rode, surely enough, in the front rank of the multitude, on the right hand of Emperor John. She knew him, though the last grey light was fading from the sky. She would have known him in the dark, it seemed to her that if she had been blind she would have known that he was near; and her joy rose in her throat, after the torture she had endured, and almost choked her, so that she reeled unsteadily and gasped for breath. He was on the right hand of the Emperor John, 'Handsome John,' whom the people had once loved and whom they were now ready to love again, having tasted of the scorpions with which Andronicus had regaled them. 'Handsome John,' with his splendid brown beard--the light of torches flashed upon it now--and his cloth-of-gold cloak drawn closely round him like a bishop's cope, so that it hid his hands and half his bridle on each side, and covered the back of his head, too, and a great part of his cheeks; he wore the tall imperial head-dress also, and it shaded his eyes. The people had recognised him more by his fine beard and his cloth of gold than by his face, but the beard was unmistakable; and besides, there were men with him who scattered coins to the multitude, and those coins were good. But the followers who were nearest to him and Zeno, and who pressed round them both to defend them, if need be, were almost all sailors, Venetian shipwrights and workmen from the docks, though Tocktamish's Tartars were close behind, making a tremendous shouting, and striking their long tasselled spears against each other after their manner, with a clatter of wood like a monstrous rattle; and other soldiers had joined them by hundreds, and after them pressed the artisans of Constantinople, the Bulgarian blacksmiths, the Italian stone-cutters and masons, the Moorish armourers and the Syrian sword-smiths from Damascus, the Sicilian rope-makers, the Persian silk-weavers, and the Smyrniote carpet-weavers, and the linen-weavers from Alexandria with many others; and every man who was not a soldier had something in his hand for a weapon--a hammer, a mallet, or a carpet-maker's staff, or only a stout cudgel. And they ran, and pushed, and forced their way through the gate, spreading out again within the court, cheering and yelling for Johannes in a dozen languages at once. The Emperor John sat quite still on his horse, wrapped in his cloak, but Zeno rode forward, till he was almost upon the knot of the guards who had pulled down Andronicus, and he threw up his hand, crying out to the men not to kill, in a voice that dominated the terrific din; and he was but just in time, for he was only obeyed because he offered a reward. 'Ten pounds of gold for Andronicus alive!' he shouted. For that was the price Andronicus had set on his head that morning, and what was enough for Zeno was enough for an Emperor. So half a dozen of the guards dragged the man alive into the palace, and bound him securely with his hands behind him, and stripped off his jewels and his gold, and kicked him into a small secret room behind the porter's lodge, and shut the door. There the corpse-faced man was squatting in a dark corner, blowing some coals to a glow in an earthen pan, because he might soon be called to do more work, and unless the vinegar was really boiling hot the fumes of it would not put out the eyesight. As Andronicus lay on the floor he could see the man. But outside, the confusion grew and the noise increased as the people poured into the vast courtyard and pressed behind upon those who had entered before them. Then the door of the tower in the corner was opened from within, and the African mutes came out and joined the other soldiers, and from an upper window the captain and his wife looked down, and by the help of what she told him he understood that it was time to set his prisoner free, if he did not mean to risk being torn to shreds by the people, though he could not at all understand who it was whom he saw on horseback in the torchlight, dressed in cloth of gold, with the imperial head-dress on his head, for he knew well enough that so long as the key of the upper prison hung at his own belt, Johannes could not get out. Yet there was no mistaking the cry of the people, and his wife urged him not to lose time. The crowd was surging towards the tower now, led by Zeno and the Emperor, and they and their sailors and dockmen kept in front of the crowd to be the first to dismount and enter the tower, and then the sailors kept the throng back, telling them that Johannes had gone in to free his youngest son, and the two men who had the deep bags of money threw lavish handfuls to the people, to amuse them while they waited. But when Zeno and the Emperor came out again, Johannes' face was all uncovered, and the cloth-of-gold cope hung loosely on his shoulders; and by the glare of many torches every one knew that it was Johannes himself, and none other, and men cheered and yelled till they were hoarse. After the Emperor and Zeno came a man whom no one had seen go in with them, and he had a very scanty dark beard and was dressed in quiet brown, though he wore a horseman's boots, and he was Gorlias Pietrogliant, who had acted so well the part which Zoë had imagined for him. But Zeno knew nothing of Arethusa, yesterday his slave, and since last night the woman of his heart, for in the haste and stress of that tremendous half-hour, Gorlias could tell him nothing, except that he was Gorlias and not the Emperor, and that the deed giving Tenedos over to Venice was signed and in his bosom; and Zeno supposed that he had devised all the wonderful scheme, which looked so simple as soon as it began to be carried out. Arethusa, he thought, was safe at home; sleepless, worn out with waiting, trembling with anxiety, perhaps, but safe. Now that the deed was done, now that Andronicus was bound, and Johannes, his father, was restored to the throne, Carlo Zeno thought only of leaving Constantinople without delay, before the Emperor could take back his word, and revoke the cession of Tenedos. For Zeno did not put his trust in Oriental princes, and feared the Greeks even when they offered gifts. With a swift Venetian vessel and a fair wind, the coveted island could be reached in two days, or even less; its governor had always at heart been faithful to Johannes, and would obey the deed which Gorlias had thrust into Zeno's hand in the tower, and if once the standard of St. Mark were raised on the fort there was small chance that any enemy would be able to tear it down. Therefore, just when the soldiers were lifting Johannes from his horse to carry him to the throne-room with wild triumph and rejoicing, Zeno slipped from the saddle to escape notice, elbowed his way to the outskirts of the crowd, and was on the point of making for the gate when Gorlias found him again. 'Arethusa asks you to come to her,' Gorlias said. 'I am going----' 'No. She is here. It was all her plan; she risked her life for it, we were a few moments late, and she has been tortured. Come quickly!' Zeno's face changed. Gorlias saw that, even in the dim light of the now distant torches. It was the change that comes into a master swordman's face when he makes up his mind to kill, after only defending himself because his adversary has tried some dastardly murderous trick of fence. But Zeno said nothing as he strode swiftly by his companion's side. Gorlias had found her and had brought her into the lower chamber of the tower, now deserted by the guards. The captain's wife had been standing at the door, not daring to go out amongst the half-frantic soldiers. She might have fared ill at their hands if she had been recognised just then as the wife of the Emperor's gaoler. So she had stood under the archway, watching and listening, and Gorlias had given Zoë half-fainting into her care while he went to find Zeno. She had taken the girl on her knees like a child, while she herself sat on the narrow stone bench that ran round the wall, for there was no furniture of any sort there. Zoë's head lay upon the shoulder of the big woman who gently smoothed and patted the soft brown hair, and rocked the light figure on her knees with a side motion as nurses do. She did not know what was the matter, but she recognised the girl who had brought the message and who had been caught outside the door. Then Zeno came, and in a moment he was close beside Zoë; resting one knee on the stone bench, bending down, and very tenderly lifting the lovely head into his own arm. She knew his touch, she turned her face up with a great effort, for she had hardly any strength left, and her lids that were but half-closed like a dying person's, quivered and opened, and for one instant her eyes were full of light. Her voice came to him from far off, almost from the other world. 'Safe! Ah, thank God! It was worth the pain!' Then she fainted quite away in his arms, but he knew that she was not dying, for he had seen many pass from life, and the signs were familiar to him. He gathered her to him and carried her lightly through the open door, where Gorlias was ready; and Gorlias knew where Vito was waiting with the skiff at the old landing not far below the tower, and he helped the boatman to row them home. Thus ended that long day, which had so nearly been Zoë's last and Zeno's too; and when she opened her eyes again and found herself lying on her own divan under the soft light of the lamps, and looked into his anxious, loving face, all the weariness sank away from her own, and for an instant she felt as strong as if she had freshly waked from rest; then she put up her arms together, though it hurt her very much to lift the left one, and she clasped her hands round his handsome brown neck and drew him down to her without a word. It was only for a moment. Her strength failed her again, and he felt her little hands relax; so he knelt down by the divan and laid his cheek upon the edge of her pillow, so that he could look into her face, and they both smiled; and his smile was anxious, but hers was satisfied. He did not know what they had done to her, but he was sure that she needed care. 'You are suffering,' he said. 'What shall I do? Shall I send for a physician?' 'No. Stay with me. Let me look at you. That is all I need.' Her speech came in short, soft phrases, like kisses from lips half-asleep, when there is a little dream between each sentence and the next. But even when she was asleep he still knelt beside her, and now and then her body quivered, and she drew a sharp breath suddenly as if the pain she had borne ran through her again, though more in memory than in real suffering now. CHAPTER XX Zeno left her when she was breathing quietly, after ordering the two little maids to watch her by turns, or at least to go to sleep very near her, in case she should wake and call. He himself was worn out with fatigue and hunger, for he had not tasted anything since he had supped with Zoë on the previous evening. He went down to his own rooms, where Vito had prepared him food and wine, which he had asked Gorlias to share with him. But the ex-astrologer was gone, and the master ate and drank alone that night, smiling now and then at the recollection of the dark hours in the dry cistern, and giving orders to Vito about the journey which was to be begun on the morrow, if possible. And Vito gave him a detailed account of what had happened in his absence. Now that Zoë was safe he was supremely happy. In his heart the fighting man had detested the peaceful merchant's life he had chosen to lead for more than two years, and already, in imagination, his hands were on the helm, the salt spray was in his face, and his ship was going free on her course for the wonderful Isles of Adventure. But by the orders he gave while he ate his supper, Vito understood that he was not going alone. When had Carlo Zeno ever taken rich carpets, soft cushions, silver basins, and delicate provisions to sea with him, except as merchandise, packed in bales and stowed below? A camp-bed ashore, a hammock at sea, were enough for his comfort. Vito mentally noted each order, and when the time came he had forgotten nothing; but he asked no questions. Early in the morning, when Zeno had learned that Zoë was still asleep, he went down to the harbour and found that Sebastian Cornèr's ship was to sail the next day at dawn, the same vessel that had brought the letter from Venice which had led him to buy Arethusa; the very galley by which she should have been carried to Marco Pesaro, if Zeno had not thought better of the matter before drawing the three hundred ducats. Now Sebastian Cornèr was a brave captain, as well as a man of business, and could be trusted; and when Zeno had shown him the deed which gave Tenedos to the Serene Republic he did not hesitate, but promised to help Carlo to take possession of the island within three days, before Johannes could change his mind. So that matter was settled, and Zeno departed, saying that he would send his baggage on board during the day. When he came home he found the secretary waiting with his tale of woe. Omobono looked and felt like an elderly sick lamb, very sorry for himself and terribly anxious not to be blamed for what had happened, while equally afraid of being scolded for talking too much. He had passed through the most awful ordeal of his peaceful life very bravely, he believed; and if Zeno had called him a cackling hen that morning the shock might have unsettled his brain, and would certainly have broken his heart. But Zeno had been informed by Vito of the events that had disturbed his household, and knew that Omobono had done his best, considering what his worst might have been, he being of a timid temperament. 'You did very well,' said the master. 'In ancient days, Omobono, those who died for their faith were indeed venerated as martyrs, but those who suffered and lived were afterwards revered as confessors. That is your position.' This piece of information Zeno had acquired, with more of the same kind, when he had expected to be made a canon of Patras. Omobono's heart glowed at the praise. 'And the confessor, sir, has the advantage of being alive and can still be useful,' he ventured to suggest, though with some diffidence. 'Precisely,' Zeno assented. 'A live dog is better than a dead lion. I mean a watch-dog, of course, Omobono,' he added rather hastily, 'a faithful watch-dog.' Omobono's appearance that morning did not suggest the guardian of the flock, the shepherd's shaggy friend. Not in the least; but he was pleased, and when he was told that he was to pack his belongings and make ready to leave Constantinople for a trip to Venice his delight actually brought a little colour into his grey cheeks. 'And may I enquire, sir,' he began, 'about the----' he paused and looked significantly at the ceiling, to indicate the upper story of the house,--'about the lady?' he added, finishing his question at last. 'She goes with us,' answered Zeno briefly. 'Yes, sir. But may I ask whether it will be part of my duty to be responsible for her?' 'You?' Zeno looked at the little man in undisguised astonishment. 'I mean, sir, on Messer Marco Pesaro's account. I had understood----' 'No,' said Zeno, 'you had not understood.' 'But then, sir----' 'Omobono, I have often warned you against your curiosity.' 'Yes, sir. I pray every day for strength to withstand it. Nevertheless, though I know it is a sin it sometimes leads me to learn things which are of use. I do not think that if you knew what I know, sir, you would contemplate the possibility of disposing of----' 'You talk too much,' said Zeno. 'If you have anything to say, then say it. If you have nothing to say, then say nothing. But do not talk. What have you found out?' Thus deprived of the pleasure of telling a long story, Omobono conscientiously tried to impart his information in the fewest possible words. 'The lady is not called Arethusa, sir. Before she sold herself to Rustan to save her people from starvation she was called Zoë Rhangabé, the daughter of the Protosparthos who was executed by Andronicus----' 'Rhangabé?' repeated Zeno, not believing him; for it was a great name, and is still. 'Yes, sir. But that was not her name, either, for he and his wife had adopted her because they had no children, but afterwards two boys were born to them----' 'Confound their boys!' interrupted Zeno. 'Who is she?' 'Her real name is Bianca Giustiniani; she is a Venetian by birth, and her father and mother died of the plague here soon after she was born. You see, sir, under the circumstances, and although the lady called herself a slave, such a commission as Messer Marco Pesaro's----' 'Omobono,' said Zeno, interrupting him again, 'get a priest here at once. I am going to be married.' 'Married, sir?' The little secretary was aghast. 'Send Vito for the priest!' And before Omobono could say more, Zeno had left the room. He found Zoë standing by the open window, and the morning sun was still streaming in. Her hair was not taken up yet, but lay like silk all over her shoulders, still damp from the bath. She was a little pale, as a flower that has blossomed in a dark room, and the rough white silk of the robe she drew closely round her showed by contrast the delicate tint and texture of her skin, and the sweet freshness of the tender and spiritual mouth. He took her hand and looked at her earnestly before he spoke. Only a night, a day and a night, had passed since he had understood what had hidden itself in his heart for weeks. That same truth had stolen into hers, too, but she had known what it meant. 'You kept your secret well,' he said--'too well!' She shook her head, thinking he spoke of her love. 'You knew it long ago,' she answered. 'And what you did not know, you guessed. You kept yours better far.' 'I kept that one from myself, as best I could,' said he, understanding what she meant. 'I could not keep it for ever! But since we know that we love, our life begins here, and together. Together, because you saved mine--I know everything, for they have told me; and so my life is yours, and yours is mine, because we were born to mate, as falcons mate with falcons, doves with doves, and song-birds with song-birds.' 'Say falcons!' laughed Zoë. 'I like the brave bird better!' 'I do, too,--and so my little falcon, Arethusa, we must wing it together to a safer nest before Tocktamish or some other barbarian stirs up a counter-revolution. Will you come with me?' [Illustration: 'Am I not your bought slave?' she asked. 'I must obey.'] She smiled and laid her hand in his. 'Am I not your bought slave?' she asked. 'I must obey.' 'That is not enough. We are Christian man and maid. You shall go with me in honour to my own people.' 'A gentleman of Venice cannot marry a slave,' she objected, though she smiled. He laughed, happily, and drew back from her a little. 'A gentleman of Venice may do what seems good in his own eyes, if it be not treason,' he said. 'I publish the banns of marriage between Messer Carlo Zeno, of Venice, bachelor, and Arethusa----' 'Of Rustan Karaboghazji's slave market, spinster!' suggested Zoë, laughing with him. 'It is a noble alliance for the great Doge's house, sir!' 'Oh! You talk of Doges? Then I will put it in another way, as the priest will say it presently, for I think he is waiting downstairs by this time, and Omobono is teaching him his lesson.' 'How shall you put it?' 'Bianca Giustiniani, wilt thou take this man to be thy wedded husband?' She was taken by surprise, and for a moment the words would not come. 'Wilt thou take this man?' he asked again, but more softly now, and nearer to her lips, though he did not see them; for he thought he saw her soul in her brave brown eyes, and as for her answer, he knew it. * * * * * Now the rest of Zeno's life, with much of what the story-teller has told here, is extant in very bad Latin, written by one of his grandsons, the good bishop Jacopo Zeno of Belluno: how he sailed down the Dardanelles, and made good the Emperor John's gift of Tenedos to the Republic; and how the Genoese tried hard to take it from him; and how he fought like the hero he was, with a handful of men against a host, and drove them off and saved the island; and also how he lived to save Venice herself from them when all seemed lost, and broke their power for ever afterwards; and how he did many other glorious and great things, all after he had taken Bianca Giustiniani to wife. Mr. F. MARION CRAWFORD'S NOVELS THE SARACINESCA SERIES _In the binding of the Uniform Edition, each, $1.50_ =Saracinesca= "The work has two distinct merits, either of which would serve to make it great,--that of telling a perfect story in a perfect way, and of giving a graphic picture of Roman society in the last days of the Pope's temporal power.... The story is exquisitely told."--_Boston Traveler._ =Sant' Ilario.= A Sequel to "Saracinesca" "A singularly powerful and beautiful story.... It fulfils every requirement of artistic fiction. It brings out what is most impressive in human action, without owing any of its effectiveness to sensationalism or artifice. It is natural, fluent in evolution, accordant with experience, graphic in description, penetrating in analysis, and absorbing in interest."--_New York Tribune._ =Don Orsino.= A Sequel to "Sant' Ilario" "Perhaps the cleverest novel of the year.... There is not a dull paragraph in the book, and the reader may be assured that once begun, the story of _Don Orsino_ will fascinate him until its close."--_The Critic._ =Taquisara= "To Mr. Crawford's Roman novels belongs the supreme quality of uniting subtly drawn characters to a plot of uncommon interest."--_Chicago Tribune._ =Corleone= "Mr. Crawford is the novelist born ... a natural story-teller, with wit, imagination, and insight added to a varied and profound knowledge of social life."--_The Inter-Ocean_, Chicago. =Casa Braccio.= _In two volumes, $2.00._ Illustrated by A. Castaigne Like _Taquisara_ and _Corleone_, it is closely related in plot to the fortunes of the Saracinesca family. "Mr. Crawford's books have life, pathos, and insight; he tells a dramatic story with many exquisite touches."--_New York Sun._ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Mr. F. MARION CRAWFORD'S NOVELS NOVELS OF ROMAN SOCIAL LIFE _In decorated cloth covers, each, $1.50_ =A Roman Singer= "One of the earliest and best works of this famous novelist.... None but a genuine artist could have made so true a picture of human life, crossed by human passions and interwoven with human weakness. It is a perfect specimen of literary art."--_The Newark Advertiser._ =Marzio's Crucifix= "We have repeatedly had occasion to say that Mr. Crawford possesses in an extraordinary degree the art of constructing a story. It is as if it could not have been written otherwise, so naturally does the story unfold itself, and so logical and consistent is the sequence of incident after incident. As a story, Marzio's Crucifix is perfectly constructed."--_New York Commercial Advertiser._ =Heart of Rome.= A Tale of the Lost Water "Mr. Crawford has written a story of absorbing interest, a story with a genuine thrill in it; he has drawn his characters with a sure and brilliant touch, and he has said many things surpassingly well."--_New York Times Saturday Review._ =Cecilia.= A Story of Modern Rome "That F. Marion Crawford is a master of mystery needs no new telling.... His latest novel, _Cecilia_, is as weird as anything he has done since the memorable _Mr. Isaacs_.... A strong, interesting, dramatic story, with the picturesque Roman setting beautifully handled as only a master's touch could do it."--_Philadelphia Evening Telegraph._ =Whosoever Shall Offend= "It is a story sustained from beginning to end by an ever increasing dramatic quality."--_New York Evening Post._ =Pietro Ghisleri= "The imaginative richness, the marvellous ingenuity of plot, the power and subtlety of the portrayal of character, the charm of the romantic environment,--the entire atmosphere, indeed,--rank this novel at once among the great creations."--_The Boston Budget._ =To Leeward= "The four characters with whose fortunes this novel deals, are, perhaps, the most brilliantly executed portraits in the whole of Mr. Crawford's long picture gallery, while for subtle insight into the springs of human passion and for swift dramatic action none of the novels surpasses this one."--_The News and Courier._ =A Lady of Rome= Mr. Crawford has no equal as a writer of brilliant cosmopolitan fiction, in which the characters really belong to the chosen scene and the story interest is strong. His novels possess atmosphere in a high degree. THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Mr. F. MARION CRAWFORD'S NOVELS Mr. Crawford has no equal as a writer of brilliant cosmopolitan fiction, in which the characters really belong to the chosen scene and the story interest is strong. His novels possess atmosphere in a high degree. =Mr. Isaacs= (India) Its scenes are laid in Simla, chiefly. This is the work which first placed its author among the most brilliant novelists of his day. =Greifenstein= (The Black Forest) "... Another notable contribution to the literature of the day. It possesses originality in its conception and is a work of unusual ability. Its interest is sustained to the close, and it is an advance even on the previous work of this talented author. Like all Mr. Crawford's work, this novel is crisp, clear, and vigorous, and will be read with a great deal of interest."--New _York Evening Telegram._ =Zoroaster= (Persia) "It is a drama in the force of its situations and in the poetry and dignity of its language; but its men and women are not men and women of a play. By the naturalness of their conversation and behavior they seem to live and lay hold of our human sympathy more than the same characters on a stage could possibly do."--_The New York Times._ =The Witch of Prague= (Bohemia) _"A fantastic tale," illustrated by W. J. Hennessy._ "The artistic skill with which this extraordinary story is constructed and carried out is admirable and delightful.... Mr. Crawford has scored a decided triumph, for the interest of the tale is sustained throughout.... A very remarkable, powerful, and interesting story."--_New York Tribune._ =Paul Patoff= (Constantinople) "Mr. Crawford has a marked talent for assimilating local color, not to make mention of a broader historical sense. Even though he may adopt, as it is the romancer's right to do, the extreme romantic view of history, it is always a living and moving picture that he evolves for us, varied and stirring."--_New York Evening Post._ =Marietta= (Venice) "No living writer can surpass Mr. Crawford in the construction of a complicated plot and the skilful unravelling of the tangled skein."--_Chicago Record-Herald._ "He has gone back to the field of his earlier triumphs, and has, perhaps, scored the greatest triumph of them all."--_New York Herald._ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Mr. F. MARION CRAWFORD'S NOVELS _In the binding of the new Uniform Edition, each, $1.50_ =Via Crucis.= A Romance of the Second Crusade. Illustrated by Louis Loeb "_Via Crucis_ ... A tale of former days, possessing an air of reality and an absorbing interest such as few writers since Scott have been able to accomplish when dealing with historical characters."--_Boston Transcript._ =In the Palace of the King= (Spain) "_In the Palace of the King_ is a masterpiece; there is a picturesqueness, a sincerity which will catch all readers in an agreeable storm of emotion, and even leave a hardened reviewer impressed and delighted."--_Literature_, London. =With the Immortals= "The strange central idea of the story could have occurred only to a writer whose mind was very sensitive to the current of modern thought and progress, while its execution, the setting it forth in proper literary clothing, could be successfully attempted only by one whose active literary ability should be fully equalled by his power of assimilative knowledge both literary and scientific, and no less by his courage and capacity for hard work. The book will be found to have a fascination entirely new for the habitual reader of novels. Indeed, Mr. Crawford has succeeded in taking his readers quite above the ordinary plane of novel interest."--_Boston Advertiser._ =Children of the King= (Calabria) "One of the most artistic and exquisitely finished pieces of work that Crawford has produced. The picturesque setting, Calabria and its surroundings, the beautiful Sorrento and the Gulf of Salerno, with the bewitching accessories that climate, sea, and sky afford, give Mr. Crawford rich opportunities to show his rare descriptive powers. As a whole the book is strong and beautiful through its simplicity, and ranks among the choicest of the author's many fine productions."--_Public Opinion._ =A Cigarette Maker's Romance= (Munich) =and Khaled=, a Tale of Arabia "Two gems of subtle analysis of human passion and motive."--_Times._ "The interest is unflagging throughout. Never has Mr. Crawford done more brilliant realistic work than here. But his realism is only the case and cover for those intense feelings which, placed under no matter what humble conditions, produce the most dramatic and the most tragic situations.... This is a secret of genius, to take the most coarse and common material, the meanest surroundings, the most sordid material prospects, and out of the vehement passions which sometimes dominate all human beings to build up with these poor elements, scenes and passages the dramatic and emotional power of which at once enforce attention and awaken the profoundest interest."--_New York Tribune._ =Fair Margaret.= A Portrait "An exhilarating romance ... alluring in its naturalness and grace."--_Boston Herald._ Mr. F. MARION CRAWFORD'S NOVELS WITH SCENES LAID IN ENGLAND AND AMERICA _In the binding of the Uniform Edition_ =A Tale of a Lonely Parish= "It is a pleasure to have anything so perfect of its kind as this brief and vivid story.... It is doubly a success, being full of human sympathy, as well as thoroughly artistic in its nice balancing of the unusual with the commonplace, the clever juxtaposition of innocence and guilt, comedy and tragedy, simplicity and intrigue."--_Critic._ =Dr. Claudius.= A True Story The scene changes from Heidelberg to New York, and much of the story develops during the ocean voyage. "There is a satisfying quality in Mr. Crawford's strong, vital, forceful stories."--_Boston Herald._ =An American Politician.= The scenes are laid in Boston "It need scarcely be said that the story is skilfully and picturesquely written, portraying sharply individual characters in well-defined surroundings."-_New York Commercial Advertiser._ =The Three Fates= "Mr. Crawford has manifestly brought his best qualities as a student of human nature and his finest resources as a master of an original and picturesque style to bear upon this story. Taken for all in all, it is one of the most pleasing of all his productions in fiction, and it affords a view of certain phases of American, or perhaps we should say of New York, life that have not hitherto been treated with anything like the same adequacy and felicity."--_Boston Beacon._ =Marion Darche= "Full enough of incident to have furnished material for three or four stories.... A most interesting and engrossing book. Every page unfolds new possibilities, and the incidents multiply rapidly."--_Detroit Free Press._ "We are disposed to rank Marion Darche as the best of Mr. Crawford's American stories."-_The Literary World._ =Katharine Lauderdale= =The Ralstons.= A Sequel to "Katharine Lauderdale" "Mr. Crawford at his best is a great novelist, and in _Katharine Lauderdale_ we have him at his best."--_Boston Daily Advertiser._ "A most admirable novel, excellent in style, flashing with humor, and full of the ripest and wisest reflections upon men and women."--_The Westminster Gazette._ "It is the first time, we think, in American fiction that any such breadth of view has shown itself in the study of our social framework."--_Life._ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL'S NOVELS _Each, cloth, gilt tops and titles, $1.50_ =The Celebrity.= An Episode "No such piece of inimitable comedy in a literary way has appeared for years.... It is the purest, keenest fun."--Chicago Inter-_Ocean._ =Richard Carvel= Illustrated "... In breadth of canvas, massing of dramatic effect, depth of feeling, and rare wholesomeness of spirit, it has seldom, if ever, been surpassed by an American romance."--_Chicago Tribune._ =The Crossing= Illustrated "_The Crossing_ is a thoroughly interesting book, packed with exciting adventure and sentimental incident, yet faithful to historical fact both in detail and in spirit."--_The Dial._ =The Crisis= Illustrated "It is a charming love story, and never loses its interest.... The intense political bitterness, the intense patriotism of both parties, are shown understandingly."--_Evening Telegraph_, Philadelphia. =Coniston= Illustrated "Coniston has a lighter, gayer spirit, and a deeper, tenderer touch than Mr. Churchill has ever achieved before.... It is one of the truest and finest transcripts of modern American life thus far achieved in our fiction."--_Chicago Record-Herald._ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Mr. JAMES LANE ALLEN'S NOVELS _Each, cloth, 12mo, $1.50_ =The Choir Invisible= _This can also be had in a special edition illustrated by Orson Lowell, $2.50_ "One reads the story for the story's sake, and then re-reads the book out of pure delight in its beauty. The story is American to the very core.... Mr. Allen stands to-day in the front rank of American novelists. _The Choir Invisible_ will solidify a reputation already established and bring into clear light his rare gifts as an artist. For this latest story is as genuine a work of art as has come from an American hand."--HAMILTON MABIE in _The Outlook_. =The Reign of Law.= A Tale of the Kentucky Hempfields "Mr. Allen has a style as original and almost as perfectly finished as Hawthorne's, and he has also Hawthorne's fondness for spiritual suggestion that makes all his stories rich in the qualities that are lacking in so many novels of the period.... If read in the right way, it cannot fail to add to one's spiritual possessions."--_San Francisco Chronicle._ =Summer in Arcady.= A Tale of Nature "This story by James Lane Allen is one of the gems of the season. It is artistic in its setting, realistic and true to nature and life in its descriptions, dramatic, pathetic, tragic, in its incidents; indeed, a veritable masterpiece that must become classic. It is difficult to give an outline of the story; it is one of the stories which do not outline; it must be read."--_Boston Daily Advertiser._ =The Mettle of the Pasture= "It may be that _The Mettle of the Pasture_ will live and become a part of our literature; it certainly will live far beyond the allotted term of present-day fiction. Our principal concern is that it is a notable novel, that it ranks high in the range of American and English fiction, and that it is worth the reading, the re-reading, and the continuous appreciation of those who care for modern literature at its best."--By E. F. E. in the _Boston Transcript_. _Shorter Stories. Each, $1.50_ =The Blue Grass Region of Kentucky= =Flute and Violin, and Other Kentucky Tales= _Each, illustrated, $1.00_ =A Kentucky Cardinal= =Aftermath.= A Sequel to "A Kentucky Cardinal" THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Mr. OWEN WISTER'S NOVELS _Each, in decorated cloth cover, $1.50_ =The Virginian= "The vanished West is made to live again by Owen Wister in a manner which makes his book easily the best that deals with the cowboy and the cattle country.... It is picturesque, racy, and above all it is original."--_The Philadelphia Press._ =Lady Baltimore= "After cowboy stories innumerable, _The Virginian_ came as the last and definite word on that romantic subject in our fiction. _Lady Baltimore_ will serve in much the same way as the most subtly drawn picture of the old-world dignity of the vanished South."--_The New York Evening Mail._ Mr. EDEN PHILPOTTS'S NOVELS _Each, in decorated cloth, $1.50_ =The American Prisoner= Illustrated "Intensely readable ... perfectly admirable in its elemental humor and racy turns of speech."--_The Spectator_, London. =The Secret Woman= "There cannot be two opinions as to the interest and the power of _The Secret Woman_. It is not only its author's masterpiece, but it is far in advance of anything he has yet written--and that is to give it higher praise than almost any other comparison with contemporary fiction could afford."--Times Saturday Review. =Knock at a Venture= Sketches of the rustic life of Devon, rich in racy, quaint, and humorous touches. =The Portreeve= THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Mr. ROBERT HERRICK'S NOVELS _Cloth, extra, gilt tops, $1.50_ =The Gospel of Freedom= "A novel that may truly be called the greatest study of social life, in a broad and very much up-to-date sense, that has ever been contributed to American fiction."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._ =The Web of Life= "It is strong in that it faithfully depicts many phases of American life, and uses them to strengthen a web of fiction, which is most artistically wrought out."--_Buffalo Express._ =The Real World= "The title of the book has a subtle intention. It indicates, and is true to the verities in doing so, the strange dreamlike quality of life to the man who has not yet fought his own battles, or come into conscious possession of his will--only such battles bite into the consciousness."--_Chicago Tribune._ =The Common Lot= "It grips the reader tremendously.... It is the drama of a human soul the reader watches ... the finest study of human motive that has appeared for many a day."--_The World To-day._ =The Memoirs of an American Citizen.= Illustrated with about fifty drawings by F. B. Masters "Mr. Herrick's book is a book among many, and he comes nearer to reflecting a certain kind of recognizable, contemporaneous American spirit than anybody has yet done."--_New York Times._ "Intensely absorbing as a story, it is also a crisp, vigorous document of startling significance. More than any other writer to-day he is giving us the American novel."--_New York Globe._ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Mr. JACK LONDON'S NOVELS, etc. _Each, in decorated cloth binding, $1.50_ =The Call of the Wild= Illustrated in colors "A big story in sober English, and with thorough art in the construction; a wonderfully perfect bit of work; a book that will be heard of long. The dog's adventures are as exciting as any man's exploits could be, and Mr. London's workmanship is wholly satisfying."--_The New York Sun._ =The Sea-Wolf= Illustrated in colors "Jack London's The Sea-Wolf is marvellously truthful.... Reading it through at a sitting, we have found it poignantly interesting; ... a superb piece of craftsmanship."--_The New York Tribune._ =White Fang= Illustrated in colors "A thrilling story of adventure ... stirring indeed ... and it touches a chord of tenderness that is all too rare in Mr. London's work."--_Record-Herald, Chicago._ =Before Adam= Illustrated in colors "The story moves with a wonderful sequence of interesting and wholly credible events. The marvel of it all is not in the story itself, but in the audacity of the man who undertook such a task as the writing of it.... From an artistic standpoint the book is an undoubted success. And it is no less a success from the standpoint of the reader who seeks to be entertained."--_The Plain Dealer_, Cleveland. _Shorter Stories_ Children of the Frost Faith of Men Tales of the Fish Patrol The Game Moon Face Love of Life THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Mr. WILLIAM STEARNS DAVIS'S NOVELS _Each, in decorated cloth cover, $1.50_ =A Friend of Cæsar= "As a story ... there can be no question of its success.... While the beautiful love of Cornelia and Drusus lies at the sound sweet heart of the story, to say so is to give a most meagre idea of the large sustained interest of the whole.... There are many incidents so vivid, so brilliant, that they fix themselves in the memory."--NANCY HUSTON BANKS in _The Bookman_. "=God Wills It.=" A Tale of the First Crusade. Illustrated by Louis Betts "Not since Sir Walter Scott cast his spell over us with _Ivanhoe, Count Robert of Paris_, and _Quentin Durward_ have we been so completely captivated by a story as by '_God Wills It_.' It grips the attention of the reader in the first chapter and holds it till the last."--_Christian Endeavor World._ =Falaise of the Blessed Voice.= A Tale of the Youth of St. Louis, King of France "In this tale of the youth of Louis, King of France and afterward saint in the calendar of the Catholic Church, Mr. Davis has fulfilled the promises contained in _A Friend of Cæsar_ and '_God Wills It_.' The novel is not only interesting and written with skill in the scenes which are really dramatic, but it is convincing in its character drawing and its analysis of motives."--_Evening Post_, New York. =A Victor of Salamis.= A Tale of the Days of Xerxes, Leonidas, and Themistocles "An altogether admirable picture of Hellenic life and Hellenic ideals. It is just such a book as will convey to the average reader what is the eternal value of Greek Life to the world ... carried breathlessly along by a style which never poses, and yet is always strong and dignified.... This remarkable book takes its place with the best of historical fiction. Those who have made their acquaintance with the characters in the days of their youth will find delight in the remembrance. Those who would fain learn something of the golden days of Greece could not do better than use Mr. Davis for guide."--_The Daily Post_, Liverpool. "It is seldom that the London critics admit that an American may wear the mantle of Scott, but they are declaring that this book entitles Mr. Davis to a place among novelists not far below the author of _The Talisman_." THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK MABEL OSGOOD WRIGHT'S NOVELS, etc. (Published originally as by "Barbara," the Commuter's wife) _Each, in decorated cloth binding, $1.50_ =The Garden of a Commuter's Wife.= Illustrated from photographs "Reading it is like having the entry into a home of the class that is the proudest product of our land, a home where love of books and love of nature go hand in hand with hearty simple love of 'folks.'... It is a charming book."--_The Interior._ =People of the Whirlpool= Illustrated "The whole book is delicious, with its wise and kindly humor, its just perspective of the true values of things, its clever pen pictures of people and customs, and its healthy optimism for the great world in general."--_Philadelphia Evening Telegraph._ =The Woman Errant= "The book is worth reading. It will cause discussion. It is an interesting, fictional presentation of an important modern question, treated with fascinating feminine adroitness."--Miss JEANNETTE GILDER in _The Chicago Tribune_. =At the Sign of the Fox= "Her little pictures of country life are fragrant with a genuine love of nature, and there is fun as genuine in her notes on rural character. A travelling pieman is one of her most lovable personages; another is Tatters, a dog, who is humanly winsome and wise, and will not soon be forgotten by the reader of this very entertaining book."--_New York Tribune._ =The Garden, You and I= "This volume is simply the best she has yet put forth, and quite too deliciously torturing to the reviewer, whose only garden is in Spain.... The delightful humor which persuaded the earlier books, and without which Barbara would not be Barbara, has lost nothing of its poignancy, and would make _The Garden, You and I_ pleasant reading even to the man who doesn't know a pink from a phlox or a _Daphne cneorum_ from a Cherokee rose."--_Congregationalist._ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK THE MERWIN-WEBSTER NOVELS _Each, in decorated cloth covers, $1.50_ =Calumet "K"= Illustrated by Harry C. Edwards "_Calumet 'K'_ is a novel that is exciting and absorbing, but not the least bit sensational. It is the story of a rush.... The book is an unusually good story; one that shows the inner workings of the labor union, and portrays men who are the bone and sinew of the earth."--_The Toledo Blade._ =The Short Line War= "A capital story of adventure in the field of railroading."--_Outlook._ Mr. MARK LEE LUTHER'S NOVELS _Each, in cloth, decorated covers, $1.50_ =The Henchman= "It wins admiration on almost every page by the cleverness of its inventions."--CHURCHILL WILLIAMS in _The Bookman_. =The Mastery= "A story of really notable power remarkable for its strength."--_Times._ Mr. and Mrs. CASTLE'S NOVELS _Each, in decorated cloth binding, $1.50_ =The Pride of Jennico= "This lively story has a half-historic flavor which adds to its interest ... told with an intensity of style which almost takes away the breath of the reader."--_Boston Transcript._ =If Youth But Knew= "They should be the most delightful of comrades, for their writing is so apt, so responsive, so joyous, so saturated with the promptings and the glamour of spring. It is because _If Youth But Knew_ has all these adorable qualities that it is so fascinating."--_Cleveland Leader._ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Mr. JOHN LUTHER LONG'S NOVELS, etc. _Each, in decorated cloth covers, $1.50_ =The Way of the Gods= "There can be no doubt as to the artistic quality of his story. It rings true with the golden ring of chivalry and of woman's love, it rings true for all lovers of romance, wherever they be, ... and is told with an art worthy of the idea."--_New York Mail._ =Heimweh and Other Stories= "As in _Madam Butterfly_ his subtle appreciation of love's tender mystery creates an exquisite thrill of 'the heavenly longing--for the love--the loved ones' the one thing that through poverty and age can keep the door open to joy."--_New York Times._ Miss BEULAH MARIE DIX'S NOVELS, etc. _Each, in decorated cloth covers, $1.50_ =The Making of Christopher Ferringham= "In brilliancy, exciting interest, and verisimilitude, _The Making of Christopher Ferringham_ is one of the best of the semi-historical novels of the day, and not unworthy of comparison with Maurice Hewlett's best."--_Boston Advertiser._ =The Life, Treason, and Death of James Blount of Breckenhow= "A novel that may fairly challenge comparison with the very best, telling the story of treason and a love, of many good fights, a few mistakes, and a good death at the last."--_The Boston Transcript._ =The Fair Maid of Greystones= "The plot of _The Fair Maid of Greystones_ is not unworthy of Weyman at his best. This is strong praise, but it is deserved. From the moment Jack Hetherington, the Cavalier volunteer, assumes the identity of his blackguard cousin, and thus escapes certain death to face the responsibility for his kinsman's dark deeds, until the end, which is sanely happy, the adventure never flags. This is one of the few historical novels in whose favor an exception may well be made by those who long since lost interest in the school."--_New York Mail._ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Mr. CHARLES MAJOR'S NOVELS _Each, in decorated cloth binding, $1.50_ =Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall.= Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy "Dorothy is a splendid creation, a superb creature of brains, beauty, force, capacity, and passion, a riot of energy, love, and red blood. She is the fairest, fiercest, strongest, tenderest heroine that ever woke up a jaded novel reader and made him realize that life will be worth living so long as the writers of fiction create her like.... The story has brains, 'go,' virility, gumption, and originality."--_The Boston Herald._ =A Forest Hearth.= A Romance of Indiana in the Thirties. Illustrated "This work is a novel full of charm and action, picturing the life and love of the fascinating indomitably adventurous men and women, boys and girls, who developed Indiana. It is a vigorous, breezy, outdoor book, with the especial intimate touch that is possible only when the subject is one which has long lain close to its author's heart."--_Daily News._ =Yolanda, Maid of Burgundy= Illustrated "Charles Major has done the best work of his life in _Yolanda_. The volume is a genuine romance ... and after the reviewer has become surfeited with problem novels, it is like coming out into the sunlight to read the fresh, sweet story of her love for Max."--_The World To-day._ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS, 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK Mr. JOHN OXENHAM'S NOVEL =The Long Road= With frontispiece _Cloth, decorated cover, $1.50_ "Not since Robert Louis Stevenson has there appeared a writer of English who can so thoroughly serve his turn with simple Anglo-Saxon phrases ... invested with sympathetic interest, convincing sincerity, and indefinable charm of romance."--_North American._ "It is original both in plot and in treatment, and its skilful mingling of idyllic beauty and tragedy plays curious tricks with one's emotions ... and leaves an impression of happiness and spiritual uplift. It is a story that any man or woman will be the better for reading."--_Record-Herald_, Chicago. Mr. MAURICE HEWLETT'S NOVELS _Each, in decorated cloth covers, $1.50_ =The Forest Lovers= "The book is a joy to read and to remember, a source of clean and pure delight to the spiritual sense, a triumph of romance reduced to the essentials, and interpreted with a mastery of expression that is well-nigh beyond praise."--_The Dial._ =The Life and Death of Richard Yea-and-Nay= "Mr. Hewlett has done one of the most notable things in recent literature, a thing to talk about with bated breath, as a bit of master-craftsmanship touched by the splendid dignity of real creation."--_The Interior._ =The Queen's Quair= "_The Queen's Quair_ is, from every point of view, a notable contribution to historical portraiture in its subtlety, its vividness of color, its consistency, and its fascination.... Above all, it is intensely interesting."--_The Outlook._ =The Fool Errant= "It is full of excellent description, of amusing characters, and of picaresque adventure brilliantly related ... with infinite humor and vivacity."--_The New York Herald._ =Little Novels of Italy= "These singularly romantic stories are so true to their locality that they read almost like translations."--_New York Times._ =New Canterbury Tales= "In the key and style of the author's Little Novels of Italy, it shows again the brilliant qualities of that remarkable book; ... daring but successful."--_New York Tribune._ THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
32330	----	Transcriber's Notes: 1. Page scan source: http://www.archive.org/details/astruggleforrom01dahngoog 2. The diphthong OE and oe are represented by [OE] and [oe]. 3. [=e] represents an "e" with a macron above. 4. Footnote is at the end of the book. A STRUGGLE FOR ROME. BY FELIX DAHN. _T R A N S L A T E D F R O M T H E G E R M A N_ BY LILY WOLFFSOHN. "If there be anything more powerful than Fate, It is the courage which bears it undismayed." GEIBEL. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. II. LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON. 1878. [_All Rights Reserved._] A STRUGGLE FOR ROME. BOOK III.--_Continued._ THEODAHAD. CHAPTER X. On the evening of the third day after the arrival of the Gothic escort sent by Totila, Valerius had terminated his arrangements and fixed the next morning for his departure from the villa. He was sitting with Valeria and Julius at the evening meal, and speaking of the prospect of preserving peace, which was no doubt undervalued by the young hero, Totila, who was filled with the ardour of war. The old Roman could not endure the thought of seeing armed Greeks enter his beloved country. "I, too, wish for peace," said Valeria reflectively, "and yet----" "Well?" asked Valerius. "I am certain," continued the girl, "that if war broke out you would then learn to love Totila as he deserves. He would defend me and Italy---- "Yes," said Julius, "he has an heroic nature, and something still greater than that----" "I know of nothing greater!" cried Valerius. At that moment clattering footsteps were heard in the atrium, and young Thorismuth, the leader of the Gothic escort, and Totila's shield-bearer, entered abruptly. "Valerius," he said, "let the carriages be harnessed, the litters brought out; you must go at once." They all started from their seats. "What has happened? Have they landed?" "Speak," said Julius, "what do you fear?" "Nothing for myself," answered the Goth, smiling. "I did not wish to startle you sooner than was necessary. But now I dare no longer be silent. Yesterday early, the waves washed a corpse ashore----" "A corpse!" "A Goth, one of our sailors; it was Alb, the steersman of Totila's ship." Valeria grew pale, but did not tremble. "It may be an accident--the man was drowned." "No," said the Goth, "he was not drowned; hi» breast was pierced by an arrow." "That means a naval combat, nothing more," said Valerius. "But to-day----" "To-day?" cried Julius. "To-day none of the country people who usually pass on their way from Regium to Colum, made their appearance, and a trooper, whom I sent to Regium for news, has never returned. "That still proves nothing," said Valerius obstinately. His heart rebelled against the thought of a landing of his hated enemies. "The waves have often before rendered the way impassable." "But just now I have been some distance on the road to Regium, and when I laid my ear to the ground, I felt it tremble under the tramp of many horses approaching in mad haste. You must fly!" Valerius and Julius now took down their weapons, which hung upon the pillars of the room. Valeria sighed deeply, and pressed her hand to her heart. "What is to be done?" she asked. "Man the Pass of Jugum," cried Valerius, "through which the coast-road runs. It is very narrow, and can be held for some time." "Eight of my men are already there; I will join them as soon as you are mounted. The other half of my troop shall escort you on your journey. Haste!" But ere they could leave the room, a Gothic soldier, covered with blood and mire, rushed in. "Fly!" he cried, "they are there!" "Who is there, Gelaris!" asked Thorismuth. "The Greeks! Belisarius! the devil!" "Speak," ordered Thorismuth. "I got to the pine-wood before Regium without seeing anything suspicious, but also without meeting with a soul upon the way. As, looking eagerly forward, I rode past a thick tree, I felt a pull at my neck as if my head would be torn from my shoulders, and the next minute I lay on the road under my horse." "Badly sat, Gelaris," scolded Thorismuth. "Oh yes, of course! A noose of horse-hair round his neck, and an arrow whistling past his head, and a better rider would fall than Gelaris, son of Genzo! Two demons--wood-devils or goblins they seemed to me--rushed out of the bushes and over the ditch, tied me upon my horse, took me between their little shaggy ponies, and ho!----" "Those are Belisarius's Huns!" cried Valerius. "Away they went with me. When I came to myself again, I was in Regium in the midst of the enemy, and there I learned everything. The Queen-regent is murdered, war is declared, the enemy has taken Sicily by surprise, the whole island has gone over to the Emperor----" "And the fortress, Panormus?" "Was taken by the fleet, which made its way into the harbour. The mast-heads were higher than the walls of the town. From thence they shot their arrows, and jumped on to the walls." "And Syracusæ?" asked Valerius. "Fell through the treachery of the Sicilians; the Gothic garrison is murdered. Belisarius rode into Syracusæ amidst a shower of flowers, and--for it was the last days of his consulate--threw gold coins about him, amidst the applause of the population." "And where is the commodore: where is Totila?" "Two of his ships were sent to the bottom by the pointed prows of the triremes; his own and one other. He sprang into the sea in full armour--and is--not yet--fished up again." Valeria sank speechless upon a couch. "The Greek general," continued the messenger, "landed yesterday, in the dark and stormy night, near Regium. The town received him with acclamation. He will only halt until he has re-ordered his army, and will then march at once to Neapolis. His vanguard--the yellow-skinned troopers who caught me--were to advance at once and take the Pass of Jugum. I was to be their guide. But I led them far away--to the west--into the sea-swamps--and escaped--in the darkness of evening. But--they shot--arrows after me--and one hit--I can speak--no more----" and he fell clattering to the ground. "He is a dead man," cried Valerius, "they carry poisoned arrows! Up! Julius and Thorismuth! take my child to Neapolis. I myself will go to the pass, and cover your retreat." In vain were Valeria's prayers; the face and mien of the old man assumed an expression of iron resolve. "Obey!" he cried, "I am the master of this place, and the son of this soil, and I will ask the Huns of Belisarius what they have to do in my fatherland! No, Julius! I must know that you are with Valeria. Farewell!" While Valeria and Julius, with their Gothic escort and most of the slaves, fled at full speed on the road to Neapolis, Valerius hurried, at the head of half-a-dozen slaves, out of the garden of the villa, towards the pass, which--not far from the beginning of his estates--formed an arch over the road to Regium. The rock on the left hand, to the north, was inaccessible, and on the right, to the south, it fell abruptly into the sea, whose waves often overflowed the road. But the mouth of the pass was so narrow, that two men, standing side by side with their shields, could close it like a door. Thus Valerius might hope to keep the pass, even against a much superior force, long enough to afford the swift horses of the fugitives a sufficient start. As the old man was hastening through the moonless night along the narrow path which led between the sea and his vineyards to the pass, he remarked to the right hand, on the sea, at a considerable distance from the land, the bright beam of a little light, which unmistakably shone from the mast-head of some vessel. Valerius started. Were the Byzantines pushing forward to Neapolis by sea? Were they about to land soldiers at his back? But if so, would not more lights be visible? He turned to question the slaves, who, at his order, but with visible reluctance, had followed him from the villa. In vain; they had disappeared into the darkness of the night. They had deserted their master as soon as they were unobserved. So Valerius arrived alone at the pass, the nether or western end of which was guarded by two Goths, while two more filled the eastern entrance towards the enemy, and the other four kept the inner space. Scarcely had Valerius joined the two in front, when suddenly the tramp of horses was heard close at hand, and soon, round the next turning of the road, there appeared two horsemen, advancing at full trot. Each carried a torch in his right hand; and these torches alone threw light upon the midnight scene, for the Goths avoided everything that could betray their small number. "By Belisarius's beard!" cried the foremost rider, checking his horse to a walk, "this hen-ladder is here so narrow, that an honest horse has scarcely room in it; and there is a hollow way or---- Halt! What moves there?" He stopped his horse, and bent carefully forward, holding the torch far out before him. In this position, close before the entrance of the pass, he presented an easy aim. "Who is there!" he again asked. For all reply a Gothic spear pierced through the mail of his breast-plate and into his heart. "Enemies!" screamed the dying man, and fell backwards from his saddle. "Enemies! enemies!" cried the man behind him, and, hurling his treacherous torch far from him, turned his animal and galloped back; while the horse of the fallen man remained quietly standing at his master's side. Nothing was heard in the stillness of the night but the tramp of the fleeing charger, and the gentle splash of the waves at the foot of the rocks. The hearts of the men in the pass beat with expectation. "Now be cool, men," said Valerius; "let none be tempted out of the pass. You in the first row will press your shields firmly together; we in the middle will throw; you three in the rear will hand us the spears, and be attentive to all that takes place." "Sir! sir!" cried the Goth who stood in the road behind the pass, "the light! the ship approaches ever nearer!" "Be wary, and challenge it, if----" But the enemy was already at hand. It was a troop of fifty mounted Huns, carrying a few torches. As they turned round the corner of the road, the scene was illuminated with patches of glaring light, contrasted with deep gloom. "It was here, sir!" said the horseman who had escaped. "Be cautious." "Take back the dead man and the horse," commanded a rough voice, and the leader, lifting his torch, rode slowly towards the entrance of the pass. "Halt!" cried Valerius in Latin; "who are you, and what do you want?" "_I_ have to ask that!" returned the leader of the horsemen in the same language. "I am a Roman citizen, and defend my fatherland against all invaders!" cried Valerius. Meanwhile the leader had examined the scene by the light of his torch. His practised eye recognised the impossibility of avoiding the pass, either to the right or to the left; and, at the same time, the extreme straitness of its entrance. "Then, friend," he said, retreating a little, "we are allies. We are Romans too, and will free Italy from its oppressors. Therefore give way and let us through." Valerius, who wished to gain time by all possible means, spoke again. "Who are you, and who sent you?" "My name is Johannes. The enemies of Justinian call me 'the bloody,' and I lead Belisarius's light horse. The whole country, from Regium till here, has received us with rejoicing; this is the first hindrance. We should have got much farther long ago had not a dog of a Goth led us into the vilest swamp that ever swallowed up a good horse. Valuable time was lost. So do not hinder us! Life and property will be spared to you, and you will receive a rich reward into the bargain, if you will, guide us. Speed is victory! The enemy is bewildered; they must not have time to recover themselves before we stand before Neapolis, yea, even before Rome. 'Johannes,' said Belisarius to me, 'as I cannot order the storm-wind to sweep the land before me, I order _you_ to do it!' So get away and let us through!" And he spurred his horse. "Tell Belisarius--so long as Cnejus Valerius lives, he shall not advance one step in Italy! Back, you robbers!" "Madman! would you stand by the Goths and oppose us?" "By hell, if against you!" The leader again cast searching glances to the right and left. "Listen," he said; "you can really stop us here for a time. But not for long. If you yield, you shall live. If not, I will first have you skinned alive, and then impaled!" He lifted his torch, looking for a weak point. "Back!" cried Valerius; "shoot, friend!" "The twang of a bow-string was heard, and an arrow struck the helm of the horseman. "The devil!" he exclaimed, and spurred his horse back. "Dismount!" he ordered, "every man of you!" But the Huns did not like to part with their horses. "What, sir? Dismount?" asked one of the nearest. Johannes struck him in the face. The man did not move. "Dismount!" thundered Johannes again. "Would you go into that mouse-hole on horseback!" and he flung himself out of the saddle. "Six climb the trees and shoot from above. Six lie down and creep forward on each side of this road, shooting as they lie. Ten shoot standing; breast high. Ten guard the horses. You others follow me with the spear as soon as the strings twang. Forwards!" He handed his torch to one of the men and took a lance. While the Huns were carrying out his orders, Johannes again examined the pass as well as he could. "Yield!" he cried. "Come on!" shouted the Goths. Johannes gave a sign and twenty arrows whistled at once. A cry, and the foremost Goth on the right fell. He had been struck in the forehead by one of the men on the trees. Valerius, under shelter of his shield, sprang into his place. He came just at the right moment to repulse the furious attack of Johannes, who ran at the gap with his lance in rest. Valerius received the thrust on his shield, and struck at the Byzantine, who stumbled and fell, close to the entrance. The Huns behind him fell back. The Goth who stood at Valerius's side could not resist the temptation to render the leader harmless. He sprang a step forward out of the pass with up-lifted spear. But this was just what Johannes wanted. Up he started with lightning swiftness, thrust the surprised Goth over the low wall of the road on the right of the pass, and the next moment he stood on the exposed side of Valerius--who was defending himself against the renewed attack of the Huns--and stabbed him with all his might in the groin with his long Persian knife. Valerius fell; but the three Goths who stood behind him succeeded in pushing Johannes--who had already pressed forward into the middle of the pass--back and out with the beaks of their shields. Johannes retired to his men, in order to command a new salvo of arrows. Two of the Goths silently placed themselves in the entrance of the pass; the third held the bleeding Valerius in his arms. Just then the guard at the rear of the pass rushed in: "The ship, sir! the ship! They have landed! they take us in the rear! Fly! we will carry you--a hiding-place in the rocks----" "No," said Valerius, raising himself, "I will die here; rest my sword against the wall and----" But a loud flourish of Gothic horns was heard in the rear. Torches shone, and a troop of thirty Goths hurried into the pass, Totila at their head. His first glance fell upon Valerius. "Too late! too late!" he cried in deep grief. "Revenge! Follow me! Forwards!" And he rushed furiously through the pass, followed by his spear-bearing foot-soldiers. Fearful was the shock of meeting upon the narrow road between sea and rocks. The torches were extinguished in the skirmish; and the dawning day gave but a faint grey light. The Huns, although superior in numbers to their bold adversaries, were completely taken by surprise. They thought that a whole army of Goths was on the march. They hastened to join their horses and fly. But the Goths reached the place where the animals stood at the same moment as their owners, and, in confused heaps, men and horses were driven off the road into the sea. In vain Johannes himself struck at his flying people; their rush threw him to the ground; he sprang up immediately and attacked the nearest Goth. But he had fallen into bad hands. It was Totila; he recognised him. "Cursed Flax-head!" he cried, "so you are not drowned?" "No, as you see!" cried Totila, and struck a blow at the other's helm, which cleft it through and entered slightly into his skull, so that he staggered and fell. With this all resistance was at an end. The nearest of the horsemen just managed to lift Johannes into a saddle, and galloped off with him. The scene of action was deserted. Totila hurried back to the pass. He found Valerius, pale, with closed eyes, his head resting on his shield. He threw himself on his knees beside him, and pressed his stiffening hand to his heart. "Valerius!" he cried, "father! do not, do not leave me so. Speak to me once more!" The dying man faintly opened his eyes. "Where are they?" he asked. "Beaten and fled!" "Ah! victory!" cried Valerius, breathing anew. "I die happy! And Valeria--my child--is she saved?" "She is. Escaped from the naval combat, and from the sea itself, I hastened to warn Neapolis and save you. I had landed near the high-road between your house and Neapolis; there I met Valeria and learned your danger. One of my boats received her and her companions on board to take them to Neapolis; with the other I came here to save you--oh! only to revenge you!" and he laid his head upon the breast of the dying man. "Do not weep for me; I die victorious! And to you, my son, I owe it." He stroked the long fair locks of the sorrowing youth. "And Valeria's safety too! Oh! to you also, I hope, I shall owe the salvation of Italy. You are hero enough to save this country--in spite of Belisarius and Narses! You can--and you will--and your reward is the hand of my beloved child." "Valerius! my father!" "She is yours! But swear to me"--and Valerius raised himself with an effort and looked into Totila's eyes--"swear to me by the genius of Valeria that she shall not become your wife until Italy is free, and not a sod of her sacred soil is pressed by the foot of a Byzantine." "I swear it," cried Totila, enthusiastically pressing Valerius's hand, "by the genius of Valeria I swear it!" "Thanks, thanks, my son. Now I can die in peace--greet Valeria--in your hand is her fate--and that of Italia!" He laid his head back upon his shield, crossed his arms over his breast, and expired. Totila silently laid his hand upon the dead man's heart, and remained in this position for some time. A dazzling light suddenly roused him from his sad reverie; it was the sun, whose golden disk rose gloriously over the summit of the rocks. Totila stood up, and looked at the rising luminary. The sea glittered in the bright rays, and a golden light spread over the land. "By the genius of Valeria!" repeated Totila in a low voice, and stretched out his hand towards the glorious sun. Like the dead man he felt strengthened and comforted by his weighty oath; the sense of having a noble duty to perform elevated his feelings. He turned back, and ordered that the corpse should be carried to his ship, that it might be taken and deposited in the tomb of the Valerians at Neapolis. CHAPTER XI. During these portentous events the Goths had been by no means idle. But all measures of vigorous defence were paralysed, and, indeed, intentionally frustrated, by the cowardly treachery of the King. Theodahad had soon recovered from his consternation at the declaration of war on the part of Petros, for he could not and would not part with the conviction that it had only been made in order to keep up appearances and save the honour of the imperial government. He had not again spoken with Petros in private, and the latter must necessarily have some plausible reason for the appearance of Belisarius in Italy. No doubt the act of Petros had been a long-determined means for the accomplishment of the secret plans of the Emperor. The thought of carrying on a war--of all thoughts the most unbearable to Theodahad--he very well understood how to keep at a distance, for he wisely reflected that it takes two to fight. "If I do not defend myself," he thought, "the attack will soon be over. Belisarius may come--I will do all in my power to prevent any resistance being made, for that would only embitter the Emperor against me. If, on the contrary, the general reports to Byzantium that I have furthered his success in all possible ways, Justinian will not refuse to fulfil the old contract, if not wholly, at least in part." In this sense he acted. He called all the active land and sea forces of the Goths away from South Italy, where he expected the landing of Belisarius, and sent them eastwards to Liburnia, Dalmatia, Istria, and westwards to South Gaul, pretending--supported by the fact that Belisarius had sent a small detachment of troops to Dalmatia against Salona, and had exchanged ambassadors with the Frankish King--that the principal attack of the Byzantines was to be expected by land from Istria, aided by the allied Franks on the Rhodanus and Padus. The feigned movements of Belisarius gave colour to this pretext, so that what is almost incredible took place. The troops of the Goths, their ships, weapons, and war munition, in great quantities, were led away in all haste just before the invasion; South Italy, as far as Rome, and even to Ravenna, was exposed; and all measures of defence were neglected in the very parts where the first blow was to fall. The Dravus, Rhodanus, and Padus were crowded with Gothic sails and arms, while towards Sicily, as we have seen, even the most necessary guard-ships were wanting. And the turbulent urgency of the Gothic patriots did not do much good. The King had got rid of Witichis and Hildebad, by sending them with troops to Istria and Gaul; and old Hildebrand, who would not quite give up his belief in the last of the Amelungs, opposed a tough resistance to the suspicions of Teja. But the courage of Theodahad was most strengthened by the return of his Queen. Shortly after the declaration of war, Witichis had marched with a Gothic troop before the Castle of Feretri, where Gothelindis had taken refuge with her Pannonian mercenaries, and had persuaded her to return voluntarily to Ravenna, assuring her of safety, until her cause should be formally examined into and decided before the approaching National Assembly of the people and the army near Rome. These conditions were agreeable to all; for the Gothic patriots wished, above everything, to avoid being split into parties at the outbreak of the war. And while Earl Witichis, in his great sense of justice, desired that the right of defence against all accusations should be granted, Teja also acknowledged that, as the enemy had hurled the terrible accusation of regicide at the Gothic nation, the national honour could only be upheld by a strict and formal inquiry, and not by tumultuous popular justice founded on blind suspicion. Gothelindis looked forward with confidence to her trial; though the voice of moral conviction might be against her, she firmly believed that no sufficient proof of her guilt could be advanced. Had not her eye alone seen the end of her enemy? And she knew that she would not be condemned without a full conviction. So she willingly returned to Ravenna, encouraged the coward heart of her husband, and hoped, when the day of trial had passed, to find security from all further molestation in the camp of Belisarius and the court of Byzantium. The confidence of the royal couple as to the result of the trial was heightened by the circumstance that the arming of the Franks had given them a pretext for despatching, besides Witichis and Hildebad, the dangerous Earl Teja with a third detachment to the north-west of the peninsula. With him went many thousands of the most zealous adherents of the National Party, so that the assembly near Rome would not be overcrowded by adversaries. And they were ceaselessly employed in gathering together their personal adherents, as well as the old opponents of Amalaswintha, and the mighty kindred of the Balthes in all its far-spread branches, in order to secure friendly voices for the important day. In this way they had gained composure and confidence. Theodahad had been persuaded by Gothelindis to appear himself as the advocate of his wife, in order that such a show of courage and the respect imposed by his royal person might perhaps, from the very commencement, intimidate all opponents. Surrounded by their adherents and a small bodyguard, Theodahad and Gothelindis left Ravenna and hastened to Rome, where they arrived a few days before the time appointed for the Assembly, and took up their quarters in the old imperial palace. Not immediately before the walls, but in the vicinity of Rome, upon an open plain called Regeta, between Anaqui and Terracina, was the Assembly to be held. Early on the morning of the day on which Theodahad was about to set forth alone on his journey thither, and while he was taking leave of Gothelindis, an unexpected and unwelcome visitor was announced--Cethegus, who had never before made his appearance during their stay of some days in Rome. He had been fully occupied by the completion of the fortifications. As he entered, Gothelindis, struck by his gloomy aspect, cried: "For God's sake, what evil news do you bring?" The Prefect only knit his brows, and answered quietly: "Evil news? For him whom it hurts! I come from a meeting of my friends, where I first learned what all Rome will soon know. Belisarius has landed!" "At last!" exclaimed Theodahad. And the Queen also could not conceal an expression of triumph. "Do not rejoice too soon; you may repent it. I do not come to call you and your friend Petros to account; he who treats with traitors must be prepared for lies. I only come to tell you that you are now most certainly lost." "Lost?" "We are saved!" "No, Queen. Belisarius, on landing, published a manifesto. He says that he comes to punish the murderers of Amalaswintha. A high price and his favour are assured to those who give you up, alive or dead." Theodahad grew pale. "Impossible!" cried Gothelindis. "And the Goths will soon learn to whose treachery they owe the unresisted entrance of the enemy into the country. Still more. I am charged by the city of Rome, as its Prefect, to care for its well-being in this stormy time. I shall arrest you in the name of Rome, and deliver you into the hands of Belisarius." "That you dare not do!" cried Gothelindis, laying her hand upon her dagger. "Peace, Gothelindis! Here there is no helpless woman to be murdered in a bath. But I will let you free--what to me matters your life or death?--at a moderate price." "I will grant anything!" stammered Theodahad. "You will deliver up to me the documents of your contract with Silverius--be silent! Do not lie! I know that you have treated with him long and secretly. Once again you have carried on a fine trade with land and people. I should like to have the bill of sale." "The sale is now null; the documents without effect. Take them! They are deposited in the Basilica of St. Martin, in the sarcophagus on the left of the crypt." Theodahad's terror proved that he spoke the truth. "It is well," said Cethegus. "All the exits of the palace are guarded by my legionaries. I will first get the documents. If I find them in the stated place, I shall give orders to let you pass. If you then wish to fly, go to the Porta Marcus Aurelius, and name my name to the tribune of the guard, Piso; he will let you depart." He turned and went out, leaving the pair in a state of helpless alarm. "What shall we do?" said Gothelindis, more to herself than to her husband. "Shall we yield or defy them?" "What shall we do?" repeated Theodahad impatiently. "Defy them? that means stay here? Nonsense! Away as soon as possible. There is no safety but in flight!" "Whither will you fly?" "First to Ravenna--it is strong! There I will take the royal treasure. From thence, if it must be, to the Franks. Oh, what a pity that I must leave all the moneys hidden here--many millions of solidi!" "Here? Here, too?" asked Gothelindis, her attention suddenly aroused. "You have treasures hidden in Rome? Where? And are they safe?" "Ah, far too safe! In the Catacombs! I myself should be hours in finding them all in those dark labyrinths; and minutes are now death or life, and life is more than solidis! Follow me, Gothelindis, so that we may not lose a moment. I hasten to the Porta Marcus Aurelius." And he left the chamber. But Gothelindis remained motionless. A thought, a plan had crossed her mind at his words. She contemplated the possibility of resistance. Her pride could not endure to renounce the government. "Gold is power," she said to herself, "and power alone is life." Her resolution was firmly fixed. She thought of the Cappadocian mercenaries, whom the avarice of the King had driven from his service; they still remained in Rome, masterless, waiting to embark. She heard Theodahad hastily descend the staircase, and call for his litter. "Fly, fly! thou miserable coward!" she cried, "I will remain here!" CHAPTER XII. Splendidly rose the sun out of the sea the next morning. Its beams glittered upon the shining weapons of many thousand Gothic warriors, who crowded the wide levels of Regeta. From all the provinces of the kingdom they had hastened by groups, in families, often with wife and child, to be present at the great muster which took place every autumn. Such an Assembly was at once a splendid feast, and the highest national solemnity. Originally, in heathen times, its immediate intention had been the grand feast of sacrifice, which, twice a year, at the winter and the summer solstice, had united all branches of the nation in honour of their common gods; to this were added a market and exchange of goods, exercises of arms, and the review of the army. The Assembly had the power of the highest jurisdiction, and the final decision as to peace, war, and political relations with other states. And even now, in the Christian time, when the King had acquired many a right which once belonged to the people, the National Assembly possessed a high solemnity, although its ancient heathen significance was forgotten. The remains of the old liberties of the people, which even the powerful Theodoric had not contested, revived under his weak descendants. A majority of free Goths had still to pronounce sentence, and to award punishment, even though the King's Earl conducted the proceedings in his name, and fulfilled the sentence. Often already had Germanic nations themselves accused, judged, and executed their kings, on account of treachery, murder, or other heavy crimes, before a Free Assembly of the people. In the proud consciousness that he was his own master, and served none, not even the King, beyond the limit of freedom, the German went in full armour to the "Ting," where he felt himself safe and strong in union with his fellows, and saw the liberties, strength, and honour of himself and his countrymen represented in living pictures before his eyes. To the Assembly of which we now speak, the Goths had been attracted by peculiarly strong reasons. When the summons to meet at Regeta was published, the war with Byzantium was expected or already declared; the nation rejoiced at the coming struggle with their hated enemy, and were glad to muster their forces beforehand. This time the Assembly was to be, more than ever, a grand review. Besides this, most of the Goths in the adjacent places knew that judgment was to be passed on the murderers of the daughter of Theodoric, and the great excitement caused by this treacherous act had also contributed to draw the people to Regeta. While a portion of those assembled had been received by friends and relatives in the nearest villages, great numbers had--already some days before the formal opening of the Assembly--encamped in light tents and huts upon the wide plain, two hundred and eighty stadii distant from Rome. At the earliest dawn of day these groups were already in noisy movement, and employed the time during which they were yet masters of the place, in various games and pastimes. Some swam and bathed in the clear waters of the rapid river Ufen (or "Decemnovius," thus named because it flowed into the sea at Terracina, nineteen miles off), which crossed the plain. Others displayed their skill in leaping over whole rows of outstretched spears, or, almost naked, in dancing amid brandished swords, while others again--and these the fleetest-footed--clinging to the manes of their horses, kept step with their swiftest gallop, and when arrived at the goal, securely swung themselves upon their unsaddled backs. "What a pity," cried young Gudila, who was the first to arrive at the goal in one of these races, and now stroked his yellow locks out of his eyes, "what a pity that Totila is not present! He is the best rider in the nation, and has always beaten me. But now, with this horse, I would try again with him." "I am glad that he is not here," said Gunthamund, who had arrived second, "else I had scarcely won the first prize in hurling the lance yesterday." "Yes," said Hilderich, a stately young warrior in a jingling suit of mail, "Totila is clever at the lance. But black Teja throws still better; he can tell you beforehand which rib he will hit." "Pshaw!" grumbled Hunibad, an elderly man, who had looked critically at the performance of the youths, "all that is only play. In bloody earnest the sword is the only weapon that serves a man at the last, when death so presses on him from all sides that he has no space for throwing. And for that I praise Earl Witichis, of Fæsulæ! He is _my_ man! What a breaking of skulls was there in the war with the Gepidæ! The man cleaved through steel and leather as if it were dry straw! He is still more valiant than my own duke, Guntharis the Wölfung, in Florentia. But what do you youngsters know about it?--Look! the first arrivals are coming down the hill. Up! let us go to meet them!" And now people came streaming in on all the roads; on foot, on horseback, and in wagons. A noisy and turbulent crowd filled all the plain. On the shores of the river, where stood most of the tents, the horses were unharnessed, and the wagons pushed together to form a barricade. Through the lanes of the camp the ever-increasing crowd now streamed. There friends and acquaintances, who had not met for years, sought and greeted each other. It was a gay and chequered scene, for the old Germanic equality had long since disappeared from the kingdom. There stood near the aristocratic noble, who had settled in one of the rich Italian towns, who lived in the palaces of senatorial families, and had adopted the more luxuriant and polite customs of the Italians; near the duke or earl from Mediolanum or Ticinum, who wore a shoulder-belt of purple silk across his richly-gilt armour; near such a dainty lord towered some rough, gigantic Gothic peasant, who lived in the thick oak-forests on the Margus in M[oe]sia, or who had fought the wolf in the forests by the rushing [OE]nus for the ragged skin which he carried over his bear-like shoulders, and whose harsh-sounding speech struck strangely on the ear of his half-Romanised companion. There came strong and war-hardened men from the distant Augusta Vindelicorum on the Licus, who day and night defended the rotten walls of that outermost northern fortress of the Gothic kingdom against the wild Su[=e]vi. And here were peaceful shepherds from Dacia, who, possessing neither field nor house, wandered with their flocks from pasture to pasture, still living in the manner introduced into the West by their ancestors from Asia a thousand years ago. There was a rich Goth, who, in Rome or Ravenna, had married the daughter of some Italian moneychanger, and had soon learned to do business like his father-in-law, and reckon his profits by thousands. And here stood a poor Alpine shepherd, who drove his meagre goats on to the meagre pastures near the noisy Isarcus, and who erected his hut of planks close to the den of the bear. So differently had the die been cast for the thousands who were here met together, since their fathers had followed the call of the great Theodoric to the West, away from the valleys of the Hæmus. But still they felt that they were brothers, the sons of one nation; they spoke the same proud language, they had the same golden locks, the same snowy skins, the same light and sparkling eyes, and--above all--the same feeling in their hearts: "We stand as victors on the ground that our fathers forced from the Roman Empire, and which we will defend to the death." Like an immense swarm of bees the masses hummed and buzzed, greeting each other, seeking old acquaintances and concluding new friendships; and the chaotic tumult seemed as if it would never end. But suddenly the peculiar long-drawn tones of the Gothic horn were heard from the crown of the hill, and at once the storm of the thousand voices was laid. All eyes were eagerly turned in the direction of the hill, from which a procession of venerable men now approached. It was formed of half a hundred men in white and flowing mantles, their heads crowned with ivy, carrying white staffs and ancient stone axes. They were the sajones or soldiers of the tribunal, whose office it was to carry out the ceremonial forms of opening, warding, and closing the "Ting." Arrived on the plain, they greeted with a triple long-drawn flourish the assembly of free warriors; who, after a solemn silence, answered with the clash and clang of their arms. The ban-officers shortly began their work. They divided to the right and left, and enclosed the whole wide field with red woollen cords, which they wound round hazel staffs fixed into the earth at every twenty steps; accompanying this action with the repetition of ancient songs and sayings. Exactly opposite the rising and setting of the sun, the woollen cords were raised over the shafts of tall lances, so that they formed the two gates of the now completely enclosed "Ting-place;" and these entrances were guarded by soldiers with drawn swords, in order to keep all strangers and women at a distance. When all was arranged, the two oldest of the men stepped beneath the spear-gates and called in a loud voice: "According to ancient Gothic custom Is the fence erected. Now, with God's help, The judgment may begin." After the pause which ensued, there arose a low murmur amongst the crowd, which gradually grew into a loud, and, at last, almost deafening uproar of questioning, disputing, and doubting voices. It had been already remarked, as the procession advanced, that it was not, as usual, led by the Earl who was accustomed to hold and conduct the "Ting" in the name and ban of the King. But it had been expected that this representative of the King would make his appearance during the ceremony of enclosing the place. When, therefore, this work was accomplished, and the sentence of the old men called for the commencement of the tribunal, and still no earl or officer had appeared, who alone could pronounce the opening speech, the attention of all present was directed to this deficiency, so difficult to be supplied. While everywhere the people asked and sought for the Earl, or some representative of the King, it was remembered that the King himself had announced that he would appear in person before his people, to defend himself and his Queen against the heavy accusation brought against them. But when the leaders of the people now sought for the friends and partisans of the King, to question them concerning him, they discovered the suspicious fact--which, till now, had been overlooked in the confusion of general greetings--that not one of the numerous relations, friends or servants of the royal family, whose duty, privilege, and interest it was to appear in support of the accused, were present at the meeting, although they had been seen in numbers, a few days ago, in the streets and neighbourhood of Rome. This circumstance excited surprise and suspicion; and for some time it seemed as if, in consequence of the tumult caused by this singular fact and the absence of the Earl, the formal commencement of the whole proceedings would be rendered impossible. Many speakers had already tried in vain to gain a hearing. All at once, from the middle of the crowd, a sound was heard, similar to the battle-cry of some fearful monster, which drowned all other noises. All eyes were turned in the direction whence the sound proceeded, and in the middle of the place, leaning against a lofty ilex-tree, was seen the tall form of a man, who shouted the Gothic war-cry into the hollow of his bronze shield, which he held before his mouth. As the shield dropped, it discovered the powerful face of old Hildebrand, whose eyes seemed to flash fire. Enthusiastic applause greeted the appearance of the old and well-known master-at-arms of the great Theodoric, who, like his master, had, by means of song and proverb, become a mythic figure amongst the Goths while still living. As the applause died away the old man commenced: "Good Goths! my brave brothers! It troubles and surprises you that you see no Earl, and no representative of the man who wears your crown. Do not let it disturb you! If the King thinks thereby to interrupt this meeting, he is mistaken. I still remember old times, and I tell you, the people can judge what is right without the King, and hold the tribunal without the King's Earl. You are all grown up amongst new manners and customs, but there stands old Haduswinth, scarcely a few winters younger than myself; he will bear me witness that power is with the people alone; the Gothic nation is free!" "Yes! we are free!" cried a thousand voices. "If the King does not send his Earl, we will choose our 'Ting-Earl' ourselves," cried the grey-haired Haduswinth; "right and justice existed before King and Earl! And who knows the old customs of the nation better than Hildebrand, son of Hilding? Hildebrand shall be our Ting-Earl!" "Yes!" was echoed on all sides; "Hildebrand shall be our Ting-Earl!" "You have chosen me," now said Hildebrand, "and I count myself as well elected as if King Theodahad had given me a warrant in letter and parchment. And my ancestors for centuries have often held tribunals for the Goths. Come, sajones, help me to open the Assembly." In front of the oak there still lay the ruins of an ancient fane of the wood-god Picus; the sajones cleared the place, piled up the broadest stones, and leaned two square slabs to the right and left against the trunks of the oak, so that a stately seat of justice was thus formed. And so before the altar of the old Italic sylvan god, the Gothic Earl held a tribunal. Other sajones threw a wide blue woollen mantle with a broad white collar over Hildebrand's shoulders, and gave him an ashen staff, curved at the top. At his left hand, on the branches of the oak, they hung a shining shield of burnished steel, and then placed themselves in two groups on his right and on his left. The old man struck the shield with his staff till it rung loudly. Then he seated himself with his face to the east and began: "I enjoin silence, ban, and peace! I enjoin right and forbid wrong, quick anger, biting words, ready blows, and everything which can offend the peace of the Ting. And I ask: is it the year and day, the time and hour, the place and spot in which to hold a free tribunal of Gothic men?" The Goths who stood the nearest stepped forward and answered in chorus: "Here is the right place, under the wide sky, under the rustling oak; now is the right time, with a climbing sun, to hold a free tribunal of Gothic men on the sword-won soil of our Gothic inheritance." "We are assembled," continued old Hildebrand, "to decide upon two cases: an accusation of murder against Gothelindis the Queen, and of cowardice and negligence, in this time of great danger, against Theodahad our King. I ask----" But his speech was interrupted by the loud flourish of horns, which sounded nearer and nearer from the west. CHAPTER XIII. The Goths turned in astonishment, and saw a troop of horsemen hurrying down the hill in the direction of the place of justice. The sun flashed upon the armed figures with such dazzling brilliancy that they could not be recognised, although they approached rapidly. But old Hildebrand rose up in his elevated seat, shaded his eagle eyes with his hand, and at once exclaimed: "Those are Gothic weapons! The waving banner bears the figure of the scales: that is the crest of Earl Witichis! and there he is himself at the head of the troop! and the tall figure on his left is the sturdy Hildebad! What brings the generals back? Their troops should be far on their way to Gaul and Dalmatia." There ensued an uproar of excited voices. Meanwhile the riders had reached the place and sprang from their smoking horses. Received with enthusiasm, the two generals, Witichis and Hildebad, went through the crowd up to Hildebrand's judgment-seat. "What?" cried Hildebad, still out of breath; "you sit here and hold a tribunal as if in time of peace, and the enemy Belisarius has landed!" "We know it," answered Hildebrand quietly, "and would have held counsel with the King how best to check him." "With the King!" laughed Hildebad bitterly. "He is not here," said Witichis, looking round; "that confirms our suspicion. We returned because we had cause for grave mistrust. But of that later. Continue where you were interrupted. Everything according to right and order! Peace, friend!" And, pushing the impatient Hildebad back, he modestly placed himself on the left of the judgment-seat amongst the others. After all had become still, the old man continued: "Gothelindis, our Queen, is accused of the murder of Amalaswintha, the daughter of Theodoric. I ask: are we a tribunal to judge such a cause?" Old Haduswinth, leaning upon his club, advanced a step and said: "Red are the cords which enclose this place of execution. The National Assembly has the right to judge red-handed crime; warm life and cold death. If it has been ordered otherwise in late times, it has been by force and not by right. We _are_ a tribunal to judge such a cause." "Through all the nation," resumed Hildebrand, "a heavy reproach is made against Gothelindis; in the depths of our hearts we accuse her. But who will accuse her here, in open assembly, in audible words, of this murder?" "I," cried a loud voice, and a handsome young Goth in shining armour stepped forward, on the right of the judge, laying his hand upon his heart. A murmur of approbation ran through the crowd. "He loves the beautiful Mataswintha!" "He is the brother of Duke Guntharis of Tuscany, who holds Florentia." "He is her wooer." "He comes forward as the avenger of her mother." "I, Earl Arahad of Asta, the son of Aramuth, of the noble race of the Wölfungs," continued the young Goth with an engaging blush. "It is true, I am not akin to the murdered Princess; but the men of her family, Theodahad foremost, her cousin and her King, do not fulfil their duty as blood-avengers. Is not Theodahad himself abettor and hider of the murder? I, then, a free and unblemished Goth of noble blood, a friend of the late unhappy Princess, complain on behalf of her daughter, Mataswintha. I appeal against murder! I appeal against blood!" And, amidst the loud applause of the Assembly, the stately youth drew his sword and laid it straight before him upon the seat of justice. "And thy proofs? Speak!" "Hold, Ting-Earl," cried a grave voice, and Witichis stepped forward opposite to the complainant. "Art thou so old, and knowest so well what is just, Master Hildebrand, and allowest thyself to be carried away by the pressure of the multitude? Must I remind thee, I, the younger man, of the first law of all justice? I hear the complainant, but not the accused." "No woman may enter the Ting of the Goths," said Hildebrand quietly. "I know it; but where is Theodahad, her husband and defender?" "He has not appeared." "Is he invited?" "He is invited, upon my oath and that of these messengers," cried Arahad. "Step forth, sajones!" Two of the officers came forward and touched the judgment-seat with their staffs. "Well," continued Witichis, "it shall never be said that a woman was judged by the people of the Goths unheard and undefended. However she may be hated, she has a right to be heard and protected. I will be her defender and pleader." And he went towards the youthful complainant, likewise drawing his sword. A pause of respectful admiration followed. "So thou deniest the deed?" "I say it is not proven." "Prove it!" said the judge, turning to Arahad. The latter, unprepared for a formal proceedings and not ready to cope with an opponent of Witichis's weight and steady composure, was somewhat embarrassed. "Prove?" he cried impatiently. "What need of proof? Thou, I, all the Goths know that Gothelindis hated the Princess long and bitterly. The Princess disappears from Ravenna; at the same time her murderess also. The victim is discovered in a house belonging to Gothelindis--dead; and the murderess escapes to a fortified castle. What need, then, of proof?" And he looked with impatience at the Goths near him. "And on this argument thou wilt accuse the Queen of murder before the open Ting?" asked Witichis quietly. "Truly may the day be far distant when a verdict is founded upon such evidence! Justice, my men, is light and air. Woe, woe to the nation which makes its hatred its justice! I myself hate this woman and her husband; but where I hate I am doubly strict." He said this in so simple and noble a manner, that the hearts of all present were touched. "Where are the proofs!" now asked Hildebrand. "Hast thou a palpable act? Hast thou a visible appearance? Hast thou an important word? Hast thou a true oath? Dost thou claim the oath of innocence from the accused?" "Proof!" again repeated Arahad angrily. "I have none but the conviction within my heart!" "Then," said Hildebrand---- But at this moment a soldier made his way to him from the gate, and said: "Romans stand at the entrance. They beg for a hearing. They say they know all about the death of the Princess." "I demand that they be heard!" cried Arahad eagerly. "Not as complainants, but as witnesses of the complainant." Hildebrand made a sign, and the soldier hastened to bring up the Romans through the curious throng. Foremost came a man, bent with years, wearing a hair shirt, and a rope tied round his loins; the cowl of his mantle hid his features. Two men in the habit of slaves followed. Questioning looks were fixed upon the old man, whose bearing, in spite of simplicity and even poverty, was full of dignity and nobility. When he reached Hildebrand's seat, Arahad looked closely into his face, and started back in surprise. "Who is it," asked the judge, "whom thou callest as a witness to thy words? An unknown stranger?" "No," cried Arahad, and threw back the old man's mantle. "A man whom you all know and honour--Marcus Aurelius Cassiodorus." A cry of general surprise arose from the Ting-place. "Such was my name," said the witness, "during the time of my worldly existence; now only Brother Marcus." An expression of holy resignation beamed from his features. "Well, Brother Marcus," responded Hildebrand, "what hast thou to tell us of Amalaswintha's death? Tell the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." "I will. Know, first, that it is not the striving after human requital which brings me here. I do not come to avenge the murder. 'Vengeance is mine; I will repay,' saith the Lord. No; I am here to fulfil the last wish of the unhappy woman, the daughter of my great King." He took a roll of papyrus out of his dress. "Shortly before her flight from Ravenna, Amalaswintha directed these lines to me, which I have to communicate to you as her legacy to the nation of the Goths. These are her words: "'The thanks of a contrite heart for thy friendship. Still more than the hope of safety, I am comforted by the feeling that I have not lost thy attachment. Yes, I will hasten to thy villa in the Lake of Bolsena. Does not the road lead thence to Rome, to Regeta, where I will confess before my Goths, and atone for my crime? I will die, if it must be; but not by the hands of my enemies. No; by the verdict of my people, whom I, blind fool, have ruined! I have deserved death, not only for the murder of the three dukes--who, let it be known to all, died through me--but still more for the madness with which I repulsed my people for the sake of Byzantium. If I reach Regeta alive, I will warn my people with my last breath, and cry: Fear Byzantium! Justinian is false as hell, and there can be no peace between him and us! But I will warn them also of inner enemies. King Theodahad plots treason; he has sold Italy and the Gothic crown to the ambassador of Byzantium; he has done I refused to do. Be cautious, strong, and united! Would that' dying, I could expiate the crimes committed while living.'" The people had listened in deep silence to these words, read by Cassiodorus in a trembling voice, and which seemed to come to them from the other side of the grave. When he ceased, compassion and sorrow prolonged this silence. At last old Hildebrand rose and said: "She has erred; she has made atonement. Daughter of Theodoric, the nation of the Goths forgives thy crime, and thanks thee for thy fidelity." "So may God forgive her; amen!" said Cassiodorus. He then continued: "I never invited her to my villa; I could not do so. Fourteen days before I had sold all my property to Queen Gothelindis." "Therefore her enemy," interrupted Arahad, "misusing his name, decoyed Amalaswintha into that house. Canst thou deny this. Earl Witichis?" "No," answered he. "But," he continued, turning to Cassiodorus, "hast thou also proof that the Princess did not die an accidental death there? that Gothelindis caused her death!" "Come forth, Syrus, and speak!" said Cassiodorus. "I answer for the truth of this man." The slave advanced, bent his head reverently, and said: "For twenty years I have had the superintendence of the sluices of the lake and the waterworks of the baths in the villa; none beside me knew the secret. When Queen Gothelindis bought the estate, all the slaves and personal servants of Cassiodorus were sent away; I alone remained. Early one morning, the Princess Amalaswintha landed at the island, and the Queen soon followed. The latter at once sent for me, said she would take a bath, and ordered me to give her the keys of all the sluices of the lake and the pipes of the baths, and to explain to her the whole plan of the works. I obeyed; gave her the keys and the plan drawn upon parchment, but warned her seriously not to open all the sluices, nor to let all the pipes play, for it might cost her her life. But she angrily rebuked me, and I heard that she ordered her slave to fill the kettles, not with warm, but with hot water. I went away; but, anxious for her safety, I remained in the vicinity of the baths. After some time, I heard, by the violent roaring and rushing, that notwithstanding, and in spite of, my advice, the Queen had let in the whole water of the lake. At the same time I heard the steaming water rise hissing through all the pipes in the walls; and, as it seemed to me, I heard, dulled by the marble walls, fearful cries for help. I hurried to the outer gallery of the baths to save the Queen. But what was my surprise when, at the central point of the works, at the Medusa's head, I saw the Queen, whom I thought in danger of death in the bath, standing quietly outside, completely clothed. She pressed the springs, and exchanged angry words with some one who was calling for help within. Horrified, and partly guessing what was going forward, I crept away, happily unobserved." "What, coward?" cried Witichis, "thou couldst guess what was passing and creep away!" "I am only a slave, sir, no hero, and if the Queen had noticed me, I should certainly not be standing here to bear witness against her. Shortly afterwards a report was spread that the Princess Amalaswintha was drowned in the bath." Loud murmurs and angry cries rang through the assembled crowd. Arahad cried triumphantly: "Now, Earl Witichis, wilt thou still defend her?" "No," answered Witichis, and sheathed his sword, "I defend no murderess! My office is at an end." With this he went over from the left to the right, amongst the accusers. "You, ye free Goths, have now to find the verdict, and administer justice," said Hildebrand. "I have only to execute what you pronounce; so I ask you, ye men of judgment, what think ye of this accusation, which Earl Arahad, son of Aramuth the Wölfung, has brought against Gothelindis, the Queen? Speak! is she guilty of murder?" "Guilty! guilty!" shouted many thousand voices, and not a voice said "no." "She is guilty," said the old man, rising. "Speak, complainant, what punishment dost thou demand for this crime?" Arahad lifted his sword towards heaven. "I appealed against murder, I appealed against blood! She shall die the death!" And before Hildebrand could put his question to the people, the crowd was filled with angry emotion, every man's sword flew from its sheath and flashed in the sun, and every voice shouted, "She shall die the death!" The words rolled like a terrible thunder, bearing the people's judgment over the wide plain till the echo died away in the distance. "She dies the death," said Hildebrand, "by the axe. Up, soldiers, and search for her." "Hold," cried Hildebad, coming forward, "our sentence will be hard to fulfil, so long as this woman is the wife of our King. Therefore I demand that the Assembly at once examine into the accusation that we carry in our hearts against Theodahad, who governs a people of heroes so unheroically. I will give words to this accusation. Mark well, I accuse him of treachery, not only of incapability to lead and save us. I will be silent on the fact that, without his knowledge, his Queen could scarcely have cooled her hate in Amalaswintha's blood; I will not speak of the warning which the latter sent to us, in her last words, against Theodahad's treachery; but is it not true that he deprived the whole southern portion of the realm of men, weapons, horses, and ships? that he sent all the forces to the Alps, so that the degenerate Greeks won Sicily, and entered Italy without a blow? My poor brother, Totila, stands alone against them, with a mere handful of soldiers. Instead of defending his rear, the King sent Witichis, Teja and me to the north. We obeyed with heavy hearts, for we guessed where Belisarius would land. We advanced slowly, expecting to be recalled at every moment. In vain. Already there ran a report through the places which we passed that Sicily was lost, and the Italians, who saw us march to the north, pulled mocking faces. We had accomplished a few days' march along the coast, when a letter from my brother Totila reached me: 'Has then, like the King, the whole nation, and my brother also, forsaken and forgotten me?' it said. 'Belisarius has taken Sicily by surprise. He has landed in Italy. The population join him. He presses forward to Neapolis. I have written four letters to King Theodahad for help. All in vain. Received not a single sail. Neapolis is in great danger. Save, save Neapolis and the kingdom!'" A cry of dismay and anger ran through the listening crowd. "I wanted," continued Hildebad, "to return immediately with all our thousands, but Earl Witichis, my commander, would not suffer it. I could only persuade him to halt the troops, and hasten here with a few horsemen to warn, to save, to revenge! For I cry for revenge, revenge upon King Theodahad. It was not only folly and weakness, it was knavery, to expose the south to the enemy. This letter proves it. My brother warned him four times in vain. He delivered him and the realm into the enemy's hands. Woe to us if Neapolis falls, or has already fallen! Ha! he who is guilty of this shall reign no longer, no longer live! Tear the crown of the Goths, which he has dishonoured, from his head! Down with him! Let him die!" "Down with him! Let him die!" thundered the people, in a mighty echo. The storm of their fury seemed irresistible, and capable of destroying whatever opposed it. Only one man remained quiet and composed in the midst of the turbulent crowd. It was Earl Witichis. He sprang upon one of the old stones beneath the oak, and waited till the tumult was somewhat appeased. Then he lifted his voice, and spoke with the clear simplicity which so well became him. "Countrymen! companions! hear me! You are wrong in your sentence. Woe to us if, in the Gothic nation, by whom, since the days of our forefathers, right has been ever honoured, hate and force should sit on the throne of justice! Theodahad is a bad and weak King. He shall no longer hold the reins of the kingdom alone. Give him a guardian, as if to a minor! Depose him if you like; but you may not demand his death, his blood! Where is the proof of his treachery? or that Totila's message reached him? See, you are silent! Be wary of injustice! It destroys nations!" As he stood on his elevated place in the full blaze of the sun, he looked great and noble, full of power and dignity. The eyes of the multitude rested with admiration upon him who seemed so superior to them all in nobility, temperance, and clear-sighted composure. A solemn pause followed. Before Hildebad and the people could find an answer to the man who seemed to be Justice personified, the general attention was drawn away to the thick forest which bounded the view to the south, and which suddenly seemed to become alive. CHAPTER XIV. For the quick trampling of approaching horses and the jingling of armour was heard in the wood, and soon a little group of horsemen appeared issuing from under the trees, and far in front galloped a man on a coal-black charger, which sped on as if rivalling the rushing of the wind. The long black locks of the rider waved in the air, as well as the thick black mane which formed the crest of his helmet. Bending forwards, he urged his foaming horse to greater speed, and as he reached the southern entrance to the Ting, sprang from his saddle with a clash. All gave way as they met the furious glance of his eye. His handsome face was ghastly pale. He rushed up the incline, sprang upon a stone near Witichis, held on high a roll of parchment, cried with a last effort, "Treachery! treachery!" and fell prone, as if struck by lightning. Witichis and Hildebad ran to him; they had barely recognised their friend. "Teja! Teja!" they cried, "what has happened? Speak!" "Speak," repeated Witichis once more, "it concerns the kingdom!" At this word the steel-clad man raised himself with a superhuman effort, looked about him for a moment, and then said in a hollow voice: "We are betrayed, Goths! betrayed by our King! Six days ago I received orders to go to Istria, not to Neapolis, as I had begged. I felt suspicious, but I obeyed, and embarked with my thousands. A violent storm drove numerous small vessels towards us from the west. Amongst them was the _Mercurius_, the swift-sailing post-boat of Theodahad. I knew the vessel well; she once belonged to my father. As soon as she caught sight of our ships, she tried to evade us. I, mistrustful, chased her and overtook her. Her captain carried a letter to Byzantium, in the handwriting of the King. 'You will be content with me, great general,' it said, 'all the Gothic forces are at this moment on the north-east of Rome; you can land without danger. I have destroyed four letters from the Count of the Harbour of Neapolis, and thrown his messengers into a dungeon. In requital, I expect that you will punctually fulfil our contract, and shortly pay me the price fixed.'" Teja let the letter fall; his voice died away. The people uttered deep groans of rage. "I at once turned and landed, and have galloped here for three days and nights without pause. I can no more." And, staggering, he sank into the arms of Witichis. Then old Hildebrand sprang upon the highest stone of his seat, so that he towered above the crowd. He tore a lance, which bore a small marble bust of the King upon its cross-stick, out of the hands of the bearer, and held it aloft in his left hand. In his right he raised his stone-axe. "Sold!" he cried. "He has sold his people for yellow gold! Down with him! Down, down!" And with a stroke of his axe he shattered the bust. This action was the first thunder-clap that unchained the brooding tempest. Only to be compared to the strife of the elements was the wild storm which now arose amongst the multitude. "Down with him! down with Theodahad!" was repeated a thousand times, accompanied by the deafening clash of arms. Amidst this tumult the old master-at-arms again lifted up his metallic voice, silence once more ensued, and he said solemnly: "Hear it, God in heaven, and men on earth: all-seeing sun and blowing wind, hear it! Whereas King Theodahad, the son of Theodis, has betrayed people and kingdom to the enemy; the nation of the Goths, free and full of ancient fame and born to bear arms, depose him from the throne. We deprive thee, Theodahad, of the golden crown and of the kingdom; of Gothic right and of life. And we do this not wrongly, but rightly. For under all our kings we have been ever free, and we would rather want kings than want freedom. No king stands so high, that he may not be judged by his people for murder, treachery, and perjury. So I deprive thee of crown, kingdom, right, and life. Outlawed shalt thou be, contemned, dishonoured. As far as Christians pray in their churches, and heathens sacrifice on their altars; as far as fire burns and earth grows green; as far as the falcon can fly a whole day when the wind supports his wings; as far as ships sail and shields shine; as far as heaven spreads its vault and the world extends; house and hall, and the companionship of good people, and all dwelling shall be denied thee, except hell alone. Thy inheritance I divide amongst the Gothic people. Thy flesh and blood I give to the ravens of the air. And whoever findeth thee, in hall or court, in a house or on the high-road, shall slay thee unpunished, and shall be thanked for his deed by the good Goths, and blessed by God. I ask you, men of justice, shall it be thus?" "It shall be thus!" answered the crowd, and struck their swords upon their shields. Hildebrand had scarcely descended from the stone, when old Haduswinth took his place, threw back his shaggy bear-skin, and spoke: "We are rid of the perjured king! He will meet with an avenger. But now, true men, we must choose another king. For we have never been without one. As far back as legend and story reach, our forefathers have lifted a king upon the shield, the living symbol of the power, glory, and fortune of the good Goths. So long as Goths exist, they will have kings; and as long as a king can be found, the nation will endure. And now it is more than ever necessary that we should have a head, a leader. The race of the Amelungs rose like the sun in glory--Theodoric, its brightest star, shone for a long time; but this sun has been shamefully extinguished in Theodahad. Up! people of the Goths, ye are free! Freely choose a rightful king, who will lead you to victory and glory! The throne is vacant. Goths, I call upon you to choose a king!" "Let us choose a king!" was the answer, in a solemn and mighty chorus. Then Witichis mounted the Ting-seat, took off his helmet, and raised his right hand. "Thou, God, who rulest the stars, knowest that we are not moved by unwise delight in disobedience, or by wantonness. We use the sacred right of necessity. We honour the right of royalty, the glory which beams from the crown; but this glory is dimmed. And in the great need of the nation, we exercise a people's highest right. Heralds shall go forth to all the peoples of the earth, and announce that, not because we despise, but because we honour, the crown, have we acted thus. But, for God's sake, no disputes, no quarrels now; now, when the enemy is in the land! Therefore let us first solemnly swear, that he who has the majority, were it only of _one_ voice, we will all honour as our king--him and no other. I swear it--swear with me." "We swear!" cried the Goths, But young Arahad did not join in the oath. Ambition and love flamed in his heart. He remembered that after the fall of the Balthes and the Amelungs, his house was the oldest in the nation. He hoped to win Mataswintha's hand, if he could offer her a crown; and scarcely had the voices of the people died away, than he advanced and cried: "Whom shall we choose, Goths? Reflect well! Above all, it is clear, we need a man with a young and powerful arm to lead us against the enemy. But that alone is not sufficient. Why did our ancestors elevate the Amelungs? Because they were the noblest and most ancient race, descended from the gods. The first star is extinguished; remember the second, remember the Balthes!" "Now there lived only one male descendant of that family, a not yet adult grandchild of Duke Pitza--for Alaric, the brother of the Dukes Thulun and Ibba, had not been heard of for years. Arahad was confident that this boy would not be chosen, and that then the people would think of the third star of nobility. But he erred. Old Haduswinth came forward angrily and exclaimed: "Nobility and race! Are we serfs or freemen? By the Thunderer! shall we count ancestors when Belidarius is in the land? I will tell thee, boy, what a king needs. A brave arm, it is true, but not that alone. The King shall be a rock of justice, a bulwark of peace, not only a leader in the battle. The King shall have an ever-quiet and ever-clear mind, as clear as the blue sky; and, like stars, just thoughts shall rise and set therein. The King shall have an ever-equal power, but still more an ever-equal measure; he shall never lose and forget himself in love or hate, as we may, who stand below in the crowd. He shall not only be mild to friends, but just to enemies. He, in whose heart serenity is paired with bold courage, and true moderation with true strength--that man, Arahad, is kingly, even though the humblest peasant had begotten him." Loud applause followed the words of the old man, and Arahad fell back abashed. But Haduswinth continued: "Good Goths, I think we have such a man! I will not name him: you shall name him to me. I came here from the distant Alps of our boundary, towards the Karathans, where the wild Turbidus rushes foaming down the rocks. There I have lived for more than the usual days of man, free, proud and lonely. I heard little of the acts of men, even of the great deeds of my own nation, unless a pack-horse laden with salt happened to stray my way. And yet the warlike frame of _one_ of our heroes penetrated even to that desolate height. One who never drew his sword in an unjust cause, and who never sheathed it without victory. His name I heard again and again when I asked: Who will protect our kingdom when Theodoric dies? His name I heard in every victory that we gained, and in every work of peace that was accomplished. I had never seen him. I longed to see him. To-day I have both seen and heard him. I have looked into his eyes, that are clear and mild as the sun. I have heard his words. I heard how he pleaded for right and justice, even for a hated enemy. I heard how he alone, when blind passion carried us away, remained serene and quiet and just. Then I thought in my heart: that man is kingly; strong in war and just in peace; true as steel and pure as gold. Goths! that man shall be our king. Name the man!" "Earl Witichis! yes, Witichis! Hail, King Witichis!" As the unanimous acclamation rang across the plain, a sudden fear fell upon the modest man, who had eagerly listened to the speech of the old orator, and only towards the close suspected that he himself was the man so praised. And as he heard his name ring in this thousand-voiced shout, his only feeling was: "No! this cannot, must not be!" He tore himself away from Teja and Hildebad, who were joyfully pressing his hands, and sprang forward, shaking his head, and, as if to protect himself, stretching forth his arm. "No!" he cried; "no, friends! not that to me! I am a simple soldier, no king. I am perhaps a good tool, but no master! Choose another, a worthier!" And, as if beseeching them, he held out both hands to the people. But the thundering cry, "Hail, King Witichis!" was the only answer he received. And now old Hildebrand advanced, seized his hand, and said in a loud voice: "Cease to resist, Witichis! Who was it who first swore to acknowledge, without hesitation, the man who gained a majority even of one voice? See, thou hast all voices; and wilt thou refuse!" But Witichis shook his head. Then the old man went up to him and whispered: "What? Must I urge thee more strongly? Must I remind thee of that midnight oath and bond; to sacrifice all for the well-being of thy people? I know--I see through thy transparent soul--that the crown is more a burthen to thee than an honour. I suspect that this crown will bring thee great and bitter pain, perhaps more pain than joy; and therefore I ask of thee, that thou accept it." Witichis was still silent and pressed both hands over his eyes. This by-play had lasted far too long for the enthusiasm of the people. They already prepared the broad shield on which to lift him; they already pressed up the eminence; and, almost impatiently, the cry sounded anew, "Hail, King Witichis!" "Think of thy oath! wilt thou keep it or break it!" whispered Hildebrand. "Keep it!" said Witichis, and resolutely looked up. He now, without false shame or vanity, came forward a step and said: "You have chosen me, O Goths! well, then take me; I will be your king." At this each man's sword flashed in the light, and a louder cry arose: "All hail, King Witichis!" Old Hildebrand now descended from his place and said: "I leave this high seat, for the place now belongs to our king. Only once again let me perform the office of the Ting-Earl. If I cannot hang the purple on thy shoulders, O King, which the Amelungs have worn; nor reach to thee their golden sceptre--take, at least, my judge's mantle and the staff of justice for a sceptre; as a sign that thou wert chosen for thy justice' sake. I cannot press Theodoric's golden circlet, the old Gothic crown, upon thy brow, then take the first leaves of the oak which thou resemblest in trustiness and strength." With these words he broke a tender shoot of the oak and bound it round Witichis' brow. "Up, Gothic warriors! fulfil your office with the shield!" Haduswinth, Teja, and Hildebad took the ancient Ting-shield, lifted the King, who was now crowned with wreath, staff, and mantle, and raised him on their shoulders in sight of all the people. "Behold, O Goths, your King, whom you yourselves have chosen, and swear allegiance to him!" And they swore--standing upright, not kneeling=-to true to him till death. Witichis sprang from the shield, ascended the Ting-seat and cried: "As you swear fidelity to me, so do I to you. I will be a mild and just king; I will do right and prevent wrong. I will remember that you are free, like me, and not my slaves. And I dedicate my life, my happiness, all that is mine, to you, to the people of the good Goths! I swear it by the God of Heaven, and by my throne." And taking the Ting-shield from the tree, he cried: "The Ting is over. I dissolve the Assembly." The sajones at once knocked down the hazel staffs with the cords, and in disorderly confusion the masses mingled over the wide plain. The Romans, who, curiously but shyly, had observed from a distance this custom of a free people, such as Italy had not witnessed for more than five hundred years, now also mixed freely with the Gothic soldiers, to whom they sold wine and meat. Witichis prepared to go with his friends and the leaders of the army to one of the tents which were erected on the bank of the river. There a man in Roman costume--as it seemed, a well-to-do citizen--pressed among his followers, and asked eagerly for Earl Teja, the son of Tagila. "I am he. What would you, Roman?" asked Teja, turning. "Nought, sir, except to deliver this vase to you. See, the seal, the scorpion, is intact." "What shall I do with the vase? I buy no such things." "The vase is yours, sir. It is full of documents and rolls which belong to you. My guest desired me to give it to you. I beg you, take it." And he pressed the vase into Teja's hand, and disappeared amid the crowd. Teja broke the seal indifferently, and took the documents out. Indifferently he looked at them. But suddenly a vivid flush overspread his pale cheeks, his eyes flashed, and he convulsively bit his lip. The vase fell to the ground as he rushed up to Witichis, and said, in an almost toneless voice: "My King! King Witichis, a favour!" "What is it, Teja? For God's sake, what wilt thou?" "Leave of absence! for six--three days! I must go!" "Go? Where?" "To revenge myself! Read--the devil who accused my parents, who drove them to desperation, madness, and death--it is he--whom I long since suspected. Here is his accusation, addressed to the Bishop of Florentia, in his own handwriting--it is Theodahad!" "It is, it is Theodahad," said Witichis, looking up from the letter. "Go, then! But, doubt it not, thou wilt not find him in Rome. He has certainly fled long since. He has had a great start. Thou canst not overtake him!" "I will overtake him, even if he rides on the wings of the storm-eagle!" "Thou wilt not find him!" "I will find him, if I must pluck him from hell's deepest abyss, or from out of the midst of the angels!" "He will have fled with a strong escort," warned Witichis. "I will reach him in the midst of a thousand demons! Hildebad, thy horse! Farewell, King of the Goths. I go to fulfil the ban!" BOOK IV. WITICHIS. "And the Goths chose Witichis for their King, a man of humble origin, but a famous warrior."--_Procopius: Wars of the Goths_, i. 11. PART I. CHAPTER I. Slowly sank the sun behind the green hills of Fæsulæ, and gilded the columns in front of the simple country-house of which Rauthgundis was the mistress. The Gothic servants and Italian slaves were busy concluding the day's work. The stable-man was fetching the young horses from the pasture; two other servants were bringing a herd of fine cattle home from the fields to the stable; while the goatherd, with Roman invectives, was driving forward his _protégés_, which stopped here and there to nibble the salty saxifrage which grew upon the broken walls of the road. Other labourers were housing the agricultural implements in the large yard, and a Roman freedman, a very learned and superior personage, the upper gardener himself, left, with a contented look, the place where he practised his blooming and sweet-scented science. Our little friend Athalwin, with his crown of bright golden hair, was just issuing from the stables. "Don't forget, Kakus," he cried, "to throw a rusty nail into the water-bucket. Wachis spoke of it particularly. Then he need not beat thee when he comes home." And he banged the door to. "Nothing but trouble with these Italian servants," said the little master, with an air of importance. "Since father went away, and Wachis joined him in the camp, everything lies upon my shoulders; for mother is enough for the maids, but the men need a master." And the little lad marched with great gravity across the yard. "And they have no proper respect for me," he continued, pouting his cherry lips and ruffing his white forehead. "How should they? At the next equinox I shall be fully nine years old, and they still let me go about with a thing like a kitchen spoon;" and he pulled contemptuously at the little wooden sword hanging to his belt. "They ought to give me a hunting-knife, a real weapon. With this I can do nothing, and I look like nothing!" Yet he looked very lovely, like an angry Cupid, in his short sleeveless coat of the finest white linen, which the loving hand of his mother had spun, sewed, and embroidered with an ornamental red stripe. "I should like very much to run into the fields and get the wild flowers for mother which she loves so much, far more than our finest garden flowers; but I must look round before they shut the doors, for, 'Athalwin,' said father, as he left us, 'take good care of the place, and protect thy mother. I rely upon thee;' and I shook hands upon it, so I must keep my word." So saying, he went across the yard, past the front of the dwelling-house, looked into all the offices on the left, and was just about to turn to the back of the square court, when he was attracted by the loud barking of some young dogs at a noise which was heard behind the wooden fence which enclosed the whole. He went towards the corner, and started back in surprise; for on the fence sat, or rather climbed, a strange figure. It was a tall, haggard old man in a coarse doublet of rough cloth, such as was worn by mountain shepherds; instead of a mantle, an immense undressed wolfskin hung over his shoulders, and in his right hand he carried a long staff with a steel point, with which he warded off the dogs, who angrily sprang at the fence. The boy ran up. "Stop, thou strange man! What art thou doing at my fence? Wilt get down at once!" The old man started, and looked keenly at the handsome boy. "Down, I say!" repeated the lad. "Is this the way one greets a tired wanderer at this house!" asked the intruder. "Yes, when the tired wanderer climbs over the back fence. Art thou honest and meanest honestly--in front stands the great yard-gate wide open; come in there!" "I know that very well." And the man prepared to climb down into the courtyard. "Stop!" cried the boy angrily; "thou shalt not come down there. At him, Gruffo! At him, Wulfo! And if thou art not afraid of the two young ones, I will call the old one! Then take care! Hey! Thursa! Thursa! stop him!" At this cry an immense bristly grey wolf-hound darted round the corner of the stable with a furious bark, and was about to spring at the intruder's throat. But she had scarcely reached the fence, when her rage was suddenly changed into joy; she ceased to bark, and, wagging her tail, sprang up to the old man, who now climbed leisurely down. "Yes, yes, Thursa, faithful bitch, we remember each other," he said. "Now tell me, little man, what is thy name?" "I am called Athalwin," answered the boy, retreating shyly; "but thou--I believe thou hast bewitched the dog--what art thou called?" "Like thee," said the old man, in a more friendly manner; "I am glad thou hast my name. But be quiet; I am no robber! Lead me to thy mother, that I may tell her how bravely thou hast defended thy home." And so the two adversaries walked peacefully into the house, Thursa leaping on in front with joyful barks. The Gothic housewife had changed, with slight alteration, the Corinthian atrium of this Roman villa, with its rows of pillars on four sides, into the hall of the Germanic dwelling. In the absence of her husband it was not wanted for gay hospitality, and Rauthgundis had brought her maids here from the women's room, to enjoy the larger space and fresher air. There sat a long row of Gothic maidens with their noisy spindles; opposite to them a few Roman women slaves, occupied in finer work. In the middle of the hall walked Rauthgundis, and let her own swiftly-turning spindle dance upon the smooth mosaic pavement, at the same time turning frequently to look at the maids. Her dark-blue dress of home manufacture was gathered up above one knee, and puffed out over a belt of steel rings, which, her only ornament, bore a bunch of keys. Her auburn hair was combed, back from the brow and temples, and twined into a simple knot at the back of the head. There was much simple dignity in her aspect as she paced the room with grave and examining looks. She went up to one of the youngest of the maids, who sat lowest in the row, and bent over her. "Well done, Liuta," she said; "thy thread is smooth, and thou hast not so often looked up at the door to-day. Certainly," she added with a smile, "there is not much merit in that, as Wachis cannot enter." The young girl blushed. Rauthgundis laid her hand kindly upon her smooth hair. "I know," she said, "that thou art angry with me in secret, because I made thee, the betrothed, work all this year an hour longer, morning and evening, than the other maids. It was cruel, was it not? Well, see! it was for thine own good. All that thou hast spun this year of my best flax is thine; I give it thee for thy new household. Then thou wilt not need to spin next year, the first of thy married life." The girl took her hand, and looked up gratefully, with tearful eyes. "And _you_ they call hard and severe!" was all that she could say. "Mild with the good, severe with the bad, Liuta. All that is under my care is the property of my husband, and the inheritance of my boy. Therefore I must be strict." Just then the old man and Athalwin appeared at the door. The boy wanted to call out, but the old man held his hand over his mouth, and, for a while, observed unremarked the actions of Rauthgundis as she examined the maids' work, praised, scolded, and arranged new tasks. "Yes," at last said the old man to himself, "she looks very stately, and seems to be mistress in the house--yet, who knows all!" And now it was no more possible to hold Athalwin back. "Mother!" he cried, "a strange man! who has bewitched Thursa, and climbed over the fence, and wants to come to thee! I cannot understand it!" The stately woman turned to the door with dignity, holding her hand over her eyes, to shade them from the dazzling evening sun, which shone full into the doorway. "Why dost thou lead the guest here? Thou knowest that thy father is not at home. Take him into the men's hall; his place is not here with me." "But it is, Rauthgundis! Here, with thee, is my place!" cried the old man, coming forward. "Father!" cried Rauthgundis, and threw herself into the stranger's arms. Puzzled, and not without displeasure, Athalwin looked on at this meeting. "So thou art grandfather, who lives up in the northern mountains? God be with thee, grandfather! But why didst thou not tell me at once? And why didst thou not come through the gate, like other honest folk?" The old man held his daughter by both hands, and looked inquiringly into her eyes. "She looks happy and blooming," he murmured to himself. Rauthgundis composed herself. She cast a quick look round the hall. All the spindles had ceased whirling--except Liuta's--all eyes were curiously fixed upon the old man. "Will you spin directly, curious girls!" cried Rauthgundis reprovingly. "Thou, Marcia, hast let the flax fell with thy staring; thou knowest the custom--thou wilt spin another spoolful. You others can leave your work. Come, father! Liuta, prepare a tepid bath, and meat and wine----" "No," said the old man; "the old peasant in the mountains has only the waterfall for bath and drink. And as to eating--outside the fence, near the boundary-stone, lies my knapsack; fetch it for me. There I have my wheaten bread and my sheep's-milk cheese.--What cattle hast thou in the stall, and horses in the pasture?" It was his first question. An hour after--it was already dark, and little Athalwin had gone to bed, shaking his head over his grandfather--father and daughter wandered into the open air in the light of the rising moon. "I have not air enough inside," the old man had said. They spoke much and earnestly as they walked up and down the court-yard and garden. Between whiles, the old man put questions about the household, such as were suggested by the implements or buildings near him; and in his tone lay no tenderness; only sometimes he secretly examined the countenance of his child with a loving look. "Do cease talking about rye and horses," at last said Rauthgundis, "and tell me how it has gone with thee these long years? And what has at last brought thee down from the mountains to thy children?" "How has it gone with me? pretty lonely! lonely! and cold winters! Yes, it is not so pleasant and warm up there as here in the Italian valley." He spoke as if in reproach. "Why did I come down? Well, last year the breeding-bull fell down from the _Firn-joch_, and so I wanted to buy another here." Rauthgundis could no longer contain herself; she affectionately embraced the old man and cried: "And no bull was to be found nearer than here? Do not lie, father, to thine own heart and to thine own child. Thou art come because thou couldst not help it, because thou couldst no more endure thy longing for thy child!" The old man stroked her hair. "How dost thou know that? Well, yes, I wanted to see how it went with thee, and how _he_ keeps thee--the Gothic Earl!" "Like the apple of his eye!" cried Rauthgundis joyfully. "Indeed? Why, then, is he not at home with wife and child in his house and farm?" "He serves in the King's army." "Yes, that is just it! What has he to do with service and a king? But, tell me, why dost not wear a golden bracelet? A Gothic woman once came our way from the Italian valleys, five years ago; she had gold a hand broad. Then I thought, such thy daughter wears. And I was pleased, and now----" Rauthgundis smiled. "Shall I wear gold to please my maids? I only put on ornaments when Witichis sees me." "Indeed! May he deserve it! But thou _hast_ golden brooches and rings, like other Gothic wives down here?" "More than others--chests full. Witichis brought a great booty from the wars." "So thou art quite happy?" "Quite, father, but not because of the gold bracelets." "Hast thou nothing to complain of? Only tell me, child! Whatever it may be, tell it to thy old father, and he will see thee righted." Rauthgundis stopped short in her walk. "Father, speak not thus! Thou art wrong to speak so, nor is it right for me to listen. Cast it off, this unhappy delusion, as if I must necessarily be unhappy because I came into the valley. I verily believe this fear alone has brought thee down." "That alone!" cried the old man, striking his staff upon the ground. "And thou callest thy father's deepest conviction a delusion! Last night I saw thee and Witichis in a dream. He banqueted in a gilded hall, among proud men and lovely women, richly clothed; but thou wert standing outside the door in a beggar's dress, and wept bitter tears and called to him. But he said, 'Who is this woman? I know her not!' And I could no longer rest upon the mountains. Something drew me down; I felt obliged to come and see if my child was well cared for in the valley; and I wished to surprise him, therefore I would not enter thy house by the gate." "Father," said Rauthgundis angrily, "one should not think such things, even in a dream. Thy mistrust----" "Mistrust? I trust no one but myself, and the dream told me distinctly that a misfortune threatens thee! Avoid it! Take thy boy and go back with me; only for a short time. Believe me, thon wilt quickly love again the free air up there, where one can overlook all the land." "I leave my husband? Never!" "Has he not left thee? The court, and the service of kings, is more to him than wife and child! Then let him have his will." "Father," said Rauthgundis, grasping his hand, "not a word more. Didst thou, then, not love my mother, that thou canst speak so to a wedded wife? My Witichis is all in all to me; the air and light of life. And he loves me with all his faithful heart; we are one. And if he thinks it right to work and act apart from me, then it _is_ right. He serves the cause of his people, and between me and him there shall not be a word, not a shadow, not even a father!" The old man was silent, but his doubts were not removed. "Why," he re-commenced after a pause, "why does he not take thee with him, if he has such important affairs at court? Is he ashamed of the peasant's daughter?" and he struck his staff angrily on the ground. "Anger blinds thee! Thou art vexed because he has taken me away from the mountain into the Italian valley, and art equally vexed because he does not take me to Rome, amongst the Italians!" "And thou shalt not go there! But he ought to wish it; he ought not to be able to live without thee. But the King's general is no doubt ashamed of the peasant's child." Just then, before Rauthgundis could answer, a horseman galloped up to the closed gate, before which they happened to be standing. "Up! open!" he cried, striking the gate-post with his war-club. "Who is there!" asked the old man cautiously. "Open! A king's messenger should not be kept waiting so!" "It is Wachis!" exclaimed Rauthgundis, pushing back the heavy bolt. "What brings thee back so unexpectedly!" "It is you who open to me!" cried the faithful man. "Oh, hail! all hail, Queen of the Goths! Your lord is chosen King. With my own eyes I saw him lifted upon the shield! He greets you, and calls you and Athalwin to Rome. In three days you must depart." In the midst of all her fright and surprise and joy and questioning, Rauthgundis could not help casting a joyful and proud look at her father. Then she threw herself upon his neck and wept. "Well, father," she asked, when she had again composed herself, "what sayest thou now?" "What do I say? The misfortune that I foresaw has come! Even to-night will I return to my mountains!" CHAPTER II. While the Goths were assembling at Regeta, the powerful army of Belisarius had invested the hard-pressed city of Neapolis in a wide semicircle. Rapid and irresistible as a fire in dry heather, the army of the Byzantines had advanced from the southernmost point of Italy to the walls of the Parthenopeian town, meeting with no resistance, for, thanks to Theodahad's man[oe]uvres, not a thousand Goths were to be found in all these parts. The short skirmish at the Pass of Jugum was the only hindrance with which the Greeks had met. The Roman inhabitants of Bruttia, with its towns, Regium, Vibo and Squillacium, Tempsa and Croton, Ruscia and Thurii; of Calabria, with Gallipolis, Tarentum, and Brundusium; of Lucania, with Velia and Buxentum; of Apulia, with Acheruntia and Canusium, Salernum, Nuceria, and Campsæ, and many other towns, had received Belisarius with joy, when, in the name of the Emperor, he promised them deliverance from the yoke of the heretics and barbarians. To the Aufidus on the east and the Sarnus on the south-west, Italy was wrested from the Goths; and the walls of Neapolis was the first obstacle which broke the rush of the inimical flood which was threatening to overwhelm all Italy. The camp of Belisarius was worthy of the name of a splendid spectacle. In the north, before the Porta Nolana, stood the camp of the "bloody" Johannes. To his care was entrusted the Via Nolana, and the task of forcing the way to Rome. There, on the wide levels, in the corn-fields of the industrious Goths, the Massagetæ and the yellow-skinned Huns exercised their small rough horses. Near them were encamped the light-foot of the Persian mercenaries, dressed in linen coats, and armed with bows and arrows; heavy Armenian shield-bearers; Macedonians with lances ten feet long, called sarrissi; and large troops of Thessalian, Thracian and Saracen horsemen, who, condemned to a hated inactivity during the siege, did their best to occupy their leisure time by inroads into the neighbouring country. The camp in the centre, exactly on the east of the city, was occupied by the main army; Belisarius's large tent of blue Sidonian silk, with its purple standard, towered in the middle. Here strutted the body-guard which Belisarius himself had armed and paid, and which only those who had distinguished themselves by valiant deeds were allowed to join, gay in richly-gilded breast-plates and greaves, bronze shields, broad-swords, and halberd-like lances. These men were frequently promoted to the highest rank. The kernel of the foot-soldiers was formed by eight thousand Illyrians, the only worthy troop sent by Greece itself; and here, too, were encamped, under the command of their native chiefs, the Avari, Bulgarians, Sarmatians, and even Germans, as well as Herulians and Gepidæ, whom Belisarius was obliged to enlist at a heavy price, in order to cover the want of native soldiery. Here, too, were the Italian emigrants and many deserters. Finally, the south-western camp, which stretched along the coast, was commanded by Martinus, who superintended the service of the implements of siege. Here stood, stored up, the catapults and balistæ, the rams and slings; here mingled Isaurian allies and the contingents sent by newly-recovered Africa; Moorish and Numidian horsemen and Libyan slingers. And almost all the barbaric races of three-quarters of the globe had here their representatives; Bajuvars from the Donau, Alemanni from the Rhine, Franks from the Maas, Burgundians from the Rhone, Antæ from the Dniester, Lazians from the Phasis, and the Abasgi, Siberians, Lebanthians and Lycaonians from Asia and Africa, all well skilled in archery. Out of such heterogeneous materials was the army composed, with which Justinian hoped to drive away the Gothic barbarians and liberate Italy. The command of the outposts, always and everywhere, was entrusted to the body-guard; and the chain of stations extended round the city from the Porta Capuana almost to the waves of the sea. Neapolis was badly fortified and weakly garrisoned. Less than a thousand Goths were there to defend the extensive ramparts against an army of forty thousand Byzantines and Italians. Earl Uliaris, the commander of the city, was a brave man, and had sworn by his beard not to deliver up the fortress. But even he would not have been long able to withstand the far superior force and generalship of Belisarius, had not a fortunate circumstance come to his assistance. This was the premature return of the Grecian fleet to Byzantium. When, namely, Belisarius, after having rested his troops and re-ordered his army in Regium, had given the command for a general advance of the land and sea forces to Neapolis, his navarchus Konon had showed him an order from the Emperor, till then kept secret, according to which the fleet was to sail, immediately after landing the troops, to Nicopolis on the Grecian coast, under the pretext of fetching reinforcements, but in reality to fetch Prince Germanus, the nephew of Justinian, with his imperial lancers, to Italy, where he was to observe, control, and, in case of need, check the victorious steps of Belisarius, and, as commander-in-chief, to protect the interests of the suspicious Emperor. With deep vexation Belisarius saw his fleet set sail just at the moment when he needed it most, and he only succeeded, after much urgency, in gaining the promise of the navarchus to send him four war-triremes, which were still cruising off Sicily. So Belisarius, when he prepared to besiege Neapolis, was, indeed, able to enclose the city to the north-east, east, and north-west with his land forces--the western road to Rome, defended by the castellum Tiberii, was successfully kept by Earl Uliaris--but he was not able to blockade the harbour nor prevent free communication by sea. At first he comforted himself with the fact that the besieged likewise had no fleet, and could therefore derive little benefit from this freedom of movement; but now he was, for the first time, baffled by the talent and temerity of an adversary whom he afterwards learned to fear. This was Totila, who had scarcely reached Neapolis after the fight at the pass, had scarcely aided Julius in showing the last honours to the remains of Valerius, and in drying Valeria's first tears, than he began, with restless activity, to create a fleet out of nothing. He was commodore of the squadron at Neapolis, but King Theodahad, as we know, had, in spite of his remonstrances, ordered the whole fleet out of the way of Belisarius to Pisa, where it was appointed to guard the mouth of the Arnus. So, from the very beginning, Totila had nothing under his command but three small guard-ships, two of which he had later lost off Sicily; and he had returned to Neapolis despairing of every possibility of defending the city towards the sea. But when he heard the incredible news of the return home of the Byzantine fleet his hopes revived, and he did not rest until he had--out of fishing-boats, merchant-craft, harbour-boats, and the hastily-repaired disabled ships on the wharves--formed a little fleet of about twelve sail, which could neither defy a storm at sea nor cope with a single man-of-war, but could still do good service, such as to provide Baiæ, Cumæ and other towns to the north-west, which would otherwise have been completely cut off, with victuals; to observe the movements of the enemy on the coast, and plague them with repeated attacks; in which Totila himself often landed in the south at the rear of the Grecian camp, surprised--now here, now there--some troop of the enemy, and spread such insecurity, that the Byzantines at last only ventured to leave the camp in strong detachments, and never dared to stray far, while Totila's success gave fresh courage to the hard-pressed garrison of Neapolis, who were wearied by incessant watching and frequent combats. Notwithstanding this partial success, Totila could not hide from himself that his position was very grave and that as soon as a few Grecian ships should appear before the city it would be desperate. He therefore used a portion of his boats to convoy a number of the unarmed inhabitants of Neapolis to Baiæ and Cumæ, angrily repelling the demand of the rich, that this means of safety should be granted only to those who paid for it; and taking rich and poor, without distinction, into his saving vessels. In vain had Totila repeatedly and earnestly begged Valeria to fly in one of these ships, under the protection of Julius; she would not yet leave the tomb of her father; she would not part from her lover, whose praise as protector of the city she was only too much delighted to hear proclaimed by all voices. So she continued to reside in her old home in the city, indulging in her sorrow and in her love. CHAPTER III. It was at this time that Miriam experienced the greatest joy and the keenest sorrow that she had ever known. She could sun herself more frequently than ever in the presence of the man she loved, for the Porta Capuana was an important point of the fortifications, and Totila was obliged to visit it often. He daily held conferences with Earl Uliaris in old Isaac's tower. At such times Miriam, when she had greeted the guests, and served the simple meal of fruit and wine, used to slip into the narrow little garden which lay close under the walls of the tower. This place had been, originally, a small court belonging to an ancient Temple of Minerva, the "wall-protectress," to whom altars had been gratefully erected at the principal gates of various towns. The altar had disappeared centuries ago, but the gigantic olive-tree, which had once shaded the statue dedicated to the goddess, still stretched its boughs aloft, while flowers, cherished by Miriam's loving hand, and which she had often plucked for the bride of the man whom she hopelessly loved, filled the air with perfume. Exactly opposite the tree, whose knotted roots protruded from the earth, disclosing a dark opening in the ground-floor of the old temple, there had been placed a large black cross, and below it a little praying stool, which was made out of one of the marble steps of the temple. The Christians loved to subject the remains of the ancient worship to the service of the new, and to drive out the old gods, now become demons, by the symbols of their victorious faith. The beautiful Jewess often sat for hours under this cross with old Arria, the half-blind widow of the under doorkeeper, who, after the early death of Isaac's wife, had, with motherly love, watched little Miriam bloom together with her flowers amid the desolate ruins of the old walls. Twice a day did Uliaris and Totila thus meet; reporting their losses or successes and examining the probability of saving the city. But on the tenth day of the siege, before dawn, Uliaris hastened on board Totila's "admiral" ship, a rotten fishing-boat, and found the commander sleeping on deck, covered by a ragged sail. "What is it!" cried Totila, starting up and still dreaming; "the enemy? where?" "No, my boy; this time it is again Uliaris, and not Belisarius, who awakens thee. But, by the Thunderer! this cannot last much longer!" "Uliaris, thou bleedest! thy head is bandaged!" "Bah! 'twas but a stray arrow! Fortunately no poisoned one. I got it last night. Thou must know that things are at a bad pass; much worse than ever before. The bloody Johannes--may God slay him!--digs under our Castle Tiberius like a badger, and if he gets _that_--then farewell, Neapolis! Yester even he finished a battery upon the hill above us, and now he throws burning arrows upon our heads. I tried last night to drive him out of his works, but it was no use. They were seven to one against us, and I gained nothing by it but this wound on my grey head." "The battery must come down," said Totila reflectively. "The devil it must! but it will not! I have still more to tell. The citizens begin to get unruly. Belisarius daily shoots a hundred blunt arrows into the city, to which is tied the inscription: 'Rebel for freedom!' They have more effect than a thousand pointed darts. Already, here and there, stones are cast from the roofs upon my poor fellows. If this goes on--we cannot, with a thousand men, keep off forty thousand Greeks outside and thirty thousand Neapolitans inside. Therefore I think--" and his eyes looked very gloomy. "What thinkest thou?" "We will burn down a portion of the city--at least the suburbs----" "So that the inhabitants may like us all the better? No, Uliaris, they shall not have cause to call us 'barbarians.' I know of better means--they are starving; yesterday I brought in four shiploads of oil, com, and wine; this I will divide amongst them." "Oil and corn if thou wilt! But not the wine! That I claim for my Goths. They have drunk cistern-water long enough, the nasty stuff!" "Good, thirsty hero, you shall have the wine for yourselves." "Well? and still no news from Ravenna, or from Rome?" "None! Yesterday I sent off my fifth messenger." "May God destroy our King! Listen, Totila, I don't believe we shall ever get alive out of these worm-eaten walls." "Nor I either," said Totila quietly, and offered his guest a cup of wine. Uliaris looked at him; then he drank and said: "Dear fellow! thou art pure as gold, and thy Cæcubian too. And if I must die here, like an old bear amongst the dogs--I am at least glad that I have learned to know thee so well; thee and thy Cæcubian." With this rough but friendly speech the grey old Goth left the ship. Totila sent corn and wine to the garrison in the castle, with which the soldiers regaled themselves far into the night. But the next morning, when Uliaris looked forth from the tower of the castle, he rubbed his eyes. For on the battery upon the hill waved the blue flag of the Goths. Totila had landed in the night in the rear of the enemy, and had taken the works by storm. But this new act of audacity only increased the anger of Belisarius. He swore to make an end of the troublesome boats at any price. To his great joy the four triremes from Sicily just then appeared in the offing. Belisarius ordered that they should at once force their way into the harbour of Neapolis, and spoil the handiwork of "those pirates." On the evening of the same day the four immense ships cast anchor at the entrance of the harbour. Belisarius himself visited the coast with his followers, and rejoiced at the sight of the sails, gilded by the evening sun. "The rising sun shall see them inside the harbour, in spite of that bold youth," he said to Antonina, who accompanied him, and turned his dappled-greys back to the camp. The next morning he had not yet left his camp-bed--Procopius was standing near him, reading the sketch of a report to Justinian--when Chanaranzes, the Persian, the leader of the body-guard, entered the tent, and cried: "The ships, general! the ships are taken!" Belisarius sprang from his couch in a rage. "He dies who says it!" "It would be better," observed Procopius, "that he should die who did it!" "Who was it?" "Oh, sir, the young Goth with the sparkling eyes and shining hair!" "Totila!" exclaimed Belisarius, "Totila, again!" "The crew were lying, partly on shore with my outposts, partly on deck, sound asleep. Suddenly, at midnight, all around became as lively as if a hundred ships had risen out of the sea." "A hundred ships! Ten nutshells!" "In a moment, long before we could come to their help from the shore, the ships were boarded, the crews taken prisoners, one of the triremes, whose cable could not be cut quickly enough, set on fire, and the others towed off to Neapolis!" "Your ships have entered the harbour sooner than you expected, O Belisarius," observed Procopius. But Belisarius had recovered his self-control. "Now that the bold boy has ships of war, he will become unbearable! There must be an end to this." He pressed his helmet upon his majestic head. "I would willingly have spared the city and the Roman inhabitants; but I can wait no longer. Procopius, go and summon the generals; Magnus, Demetrius and Constantinus, Bessas and Ennes, and Martinus, the master of artillery; I will give them enough to do. The barbarians shall not rejoice in their victory; they shall learn to know Belisarius." Shortly there appeared in the tent of the commander a man who, in spite of the breast-plate which he wore, had more the air of a scholar than of a warrior. Martinus, the great mathematician, was of a gentle, peaceful nature, which had long found its sole happiness in the quiet study of Euclid. He could not bear to see blood flow, and was even sorry to pluck a flower. But his mathematical and mechanical studies had one day accidentally led him to invent a new projectile of fearful power. He showed the plan to Belisarius, and he, delighted, would not let him alone, but dragged him before the Emperor, and obliged him to become "master of artillery to the _magister militum_, for the East"--namely, the assistant of Belisarius himself. He received a splendid salary, and was obliged by contract to invent one new machine of war yearly. Then the gentle mathematician, with many sighs, invented those terrible tools of destruction which overthrew the walls of fortresses, shattered the gates of castles, hurled inextinguishable fire into the towns of Justinian's enemies, and destroyed human lives by thousands. Every year Martinus delighted in the mathematical problems which he set himself to do; but as soon as the riddle was solved and the work completed, he thought with horror of the effects of his inventions. Therefore he now appeared before Belisarius with a sorrowful countenance. "Martinus! circle-turner!" cried Belisarius as he entered, "now show your art! How many catapults, balistæ, and sling-machines have we in all?" "Three hundred and fifty, general." "'Tis well! Divide them along our whole line of siege. In the north, before the Porta Capuana and the castle, set the rams against the walls; down they must come, were they made of diamonds! From the central camp direct the projectiles in a curve, so that they may fall into the streets of the city. Make every effort; do not cease a moment for twenty-four hours; let the troops relieve each other; let all the machines play!" "All, general?" asked Martinus. "The new ones too? The pyrobalistæ, the hot projectiles?" "Those too; those most of all!" "General, they are horrible! You do not yet know their effect." "Well, I shall now see what it is, and put them to the proof." "Upon this splendid city? On the Emperor's city? Will you win for Justinian a heap of ashes?" Belisarius had a great and noble soul. He was angry with himself, with Martinus, and with the Goths. "Can I do otherwise?" he asked impatiently. "These stiff-necked Goths, this foolhardy Totila, force me to it. Five times have I offered capitulation. It is madness! Not three thousand men stand behind these walls! By the head of Justinian! why do not the fifty thousand Neapolitans rise and disarm the barbarians?" "No doubt they fear your Huns more than their Goths," observed Procopius. "They are bad patriots! Forward, Martinus! In an hour Neapolis must burn!" "In a shorter time," sighed the mathematician, "if it must be so. I have brought with me a man who is well-informed; who can help us much, and simplify the work. He is a living plan of the city. May I bring him in?" Belisarius nodded, and the sentry called in a little Jewish-looking man. "Ah! Jochem, the architect!" said Belisarius. "I knew you at Byzantium. You were to rebuild the church of St. Sophia. What became of that project?" "By your leave, general, nothing." "Why not?" "My plan only amounted to a million centenaria of gold; that was too little for his Imperial Majesty. For the more a Christian church costs, the more holy and pleasing to God. A Christian asked double the amount, and got the order." "But still I saw you building in Byzantium?" "Yes, general, my plan pleased the Emperor. I changed it a little, took out the altar-place, and afterwards built from it a riding-school." "You know Neapolis thoroughly--outside and inside?" "Outside and inside--as well as my moneybag." "'Tis well. You will direct the machines for the strategist against the walls and into the city. The houses of the friends of the Goths must come down first. Forward! Mind and do your business well, or else you will be impaled! Away!" "The poor city!" sighed Martinus. "But you will see, Jochem, how exact are the pyrobalistæ; and they work so easily, a child could manage them. And they act so splendidly!" And now in all the camp began a monstrous and danger-pregnant activity. The Gothic sentinels upon the ramparts saw how the heavy machines, drawn by twenty to thirty horses, camels, asses, or oxen, were brought before the walls, and divided along the whole line. Totila and Uliaris went anxiously to the walls and tried to meet this new danger with effectual means of defence. Sacks filled with earth were let down before the places threatened by the rams; firebrands were laid ready to set the machines on fire as they approached; boiling water, arrows, and stones were to be directed against the teams and drivers; and already the Goths laughed at the cowardly enemy when they noticed that the machines halted far out of the usual range of shot, and completely out of the reach of the besieged. But Totila did not laugh. He was alarmed to see the Byzantines quietly unharness the teams and arrange their machines. Not a projectile had yet been hurled. "Well," mocked young Agila, who stood near Totila, "do they mean to shoot at us from _that_ distance? They had better do it at once from Byzantium, across the sea! That would be still safer!" He had not ceased to speak, when a forty-pound stone knocked him, and a portion of the rampart upon which he stood, to pieces. Martinus had increased the range threefold. Totila saw that they were completely without defence against these terrible projectiles. The Goths sprang horrified from the walls, and sought shelter in the streets, houses, and churches. In vain! Thousands and thousands of arrows, spears, heavy beams, and stones hurtled and hissed in infallible curves upon their heads; whole blocks of rock came flying through the air, and fell crashing through the woodwork and slabs of the strongest roofs; while in the north the rams thundered unceasingly against the castle with ponderous strokes. While the thick hail of projectiles literally darkened the air, the noise of breaking beams, the rattling fall of stones, the shattering of the ramparts, and the cries of the wounded deafened the ear. The trembling inhabitants fled terrified into the cellars and vaults of their houses, cursing both Belisarius and the Goths. But the horrified city had not yet experienced the worst. In the market-place, the Forum of Trajan, near the harbour, stood an uncovered building, a sort of ship's arsenal, heaped up with old, well-dried timber, tow, flax, tar, and other combustible materials. Into this building came, hissing and steaming, a strange projectile, and immediately a flame shot high into the air, and, fed by the inflammable materials, spread with the speed of the wind. The besiegers outside greeted the pillars of smoke which now arose with cries of exultation, and directed arrows and darts upon the place, to prevent the inhabitants from extinguishing the fire. Belisarius rode up to Martinus. "Capital, man of the circle!" he cried. "Capital! Who aimed the shot?" "I," said Jochem. "Oh! you will be satisfied with me, general. Now, pay attention. Do you see that large house with the statues upon the flat roof, to the right of the fire? That is the house of the Valerians, the greatest enemies of the people of Edom. Attention! It shall burn." The fiery projectile flew hissing through the air, and immediately a second flame rose out of the city. Just then Procopius galloped up and cried: "Belisarius, your general, Johannes, greets you. The Castle of Tiberius burns, and the first wall is down!" And such was the fact; and soon, in all parts of the city, four, six, ten houses were in flames. "Water!" cried Totila, galloping through a burning street near the harbour. "Come out, you citizens of Neapolis! Extinguish your houses! I can spare no Goths from the walls. Get barrels of water from the harbour into all the streets! The women into the houses!--What do you want, girl? leave me.--Is it you, Miriam? You here--among the flames and arrows? Away! whom do you seek?" "You," said the girl. "Do not be alarmed. Her house burns, but she is saved." "Valeria! For God's sake, where is she?" "With me. In our strong tower--there she is safe. I saw the flames. I hastened to the house. Your friend with the soft voice was carrying her out of the ruins; he wanted to take her into the church. I called to him, and persuaded him to bring her to the tower. She bleeds. A stone wounded her upon the shoulder, but there is no danger. She wishes to see you, and I came to seek you!" "Thanks, child! But come, come away;" and he took hold of her arm, and swung her up to his saddle. Trembling, she wound both arms about his neck. He held his broad shield over her head with his left hand, and galloped off with her through the smoking streets to the Porta Capuana. "Oh! would that I might die now," murmured Miriam to herself; "now, upon his breast, if not with him!" In the tower Totila found Valeria, stretched upon Miriam's bed, under the care of Julius and her female slaves. She was pale and weak from loss of blood, but composed and quiet. Totila flew to her side. Miriam stood at the window with a beating heart, and looked silently at the burning city. Totila had scarcely convinced himself that the wound was very slight, than he again sprang up and cried: "You must go! Immediately! This very moment! In another hour Belisarius may storm the city. I have once more filled my ships with fugitives. They will take you to Cajeta, and thence to Rome. Afterwards you must hasten to Taginæ to your estate. Julius will accompany you." "Yes," said Julius, "for we go the same way." "The same way? Whither art thou bound?" "To Gaul, to my home. I cannot bear to see this terrible struggle any longer. You know well that all Italy has risen against you. My fellow-countrymen fight under Belisarius. Shall I raise my hand against them, or against you? I will go." Totila turned silently to Valeria. "My friend," she said, "it seems to me that our star has set for ever! Scarcely has my father gone to lay your oath at the throne of God, than Neapolis, the third city of the realm, falls." "So you have no faith in our swords?" "I have faith in your swords, but not in your good fortune! With the falling rafters of my father's house fall all my hopes. Farewell, for a long, long time! I obey you; I will go to Taginæ." Totila and Julius now went out with the slaves to secure places in one of the triremes. Valeria rose from the bed; Miriam hurried to her to fasten the shining sandals upon her feet. "Let it alone, maiden; you must not serve me!" said Valeria. "I do it gladly," whispered Miriam; "but permit me a question." Her sparkling eyes were fixed upon Valeria's composed features. "You are beautiful and clever and proud--but tell me, do you love him? You are able to leave him at such a moment. Do you love him with devouring, irresistible ardour? do you love him with such a love as----" "As yours?" Valeria pressed the lovely girl's glowing face to her bosom, as if in protection. "No, my sweet sister! Do not be startled. I guessed it long ago from his accounts of you. And I saw it at once in your first look at him to-day. Do not be anxious; your secret is safe with me. No one shall learn it. Do not weep, do not tremble, you sweet child. I love you the better for the sake of your love. I quite understand it. He is happy who, like you, can indulge his feelings at such a moment. But an inimical God has bestowed upon me a mind that ever looks forward, and so I see before us unknown pain and a long dark path which ends not in light. But I cannot allow you to think your love the more noble because it is hopeless. My hopes, too, are ashes! Perhaps it would have been happier for him had he discovered the scented rose of your love--for Valeria, I fear, will never be his! But farewell, Miriam. They come. Remember our meeting! Remember me as a sister, and take my warmest thanks. Thanks for your faithful love!" Miriam had trembled like a child found out in a fault, and would have gladly run out of Valeria's sight, who seemed to see through everything. But these noble sentiments overcame her timidity, and tears flowed plentifully over her glowing cheeks. Trembling with shame and weeping, she leaned her head upon her new friend's breast. They heard Julius coming to call Valeria. They were obliged to part. Miriam cast a rapid glance at the face of the Roman lady; and then she threw herself on the ground before her, embraced her knees, pressed a burning kiss upon her cold hand, and disappeared into the next room. Valeria rose as if from a dream, and looked about her. In a vase on the window-sill stood a dark-red rose. Valeria kissed it, and put it into the bosom of her dress, blessed, with the motion of her hand, the place which had afforded her an asylum, and then followed Julius, who took her in a closed litter to the harbour, where she had time to take a short leave of Totila, before she went on board with Julius. Shortly afterwards the ship set sail, and moved proudly out of the harbour. Totila looked after it. He saw Valeria's white hand signing a farewell. He looked and looked at the lessening sail, little heeding the projectiles which now began to fall thicker into the harbour. He leaned against a pillar, and, for a moment, forgot the burning town and everything around him. Thorismuth roused him from his reverie. "Come, commodore!" he cried. "I have been seeking thee everywhere. Uliaris wishes to speak to thee.--Come, why dost thou stand here, gazing at the sea among all these whizzing arrows?" Totila slowly raised himself. "Seest thou," he said, "seest thou yonder ship? There they leave me----" "Who?" asked Thorismuth. "My good-fortune and my youth," said Totila, and turned to seek Uliaris. Uliaris told him that, in order to gain time, he had proposed an armistice of three hours, which Belisarius, who wished for a parley, had accepted. "I will never capitulate! But we must have time to repair and strengthen our walls. Will reinforcements never come? Hast thou still no news from the King by sea?" "None." "The devil! Above six hundred of my Goths have fallen under these hellish projectiles. I cannot even fill the most important posts. If I had but four hundred men more!" "Well," said Totila, reflecting, "I think I can procure thee these. In the Castellum Aurelium, on the road to Rome, lie four hundred and fifty men. Until now they have declared that they received from King Theodahad the unreasonable but strict order, on no account to aid in defending Neapolis. But in this, great necessity--I will go myself, during the armistice, and do all I can to bring them." "Do not go! The truce will have ended before thy return, and then the road will be no longer safe. Thou canst not get through." "I will get through by force or by cunning. Only keep firm until I am back. Up! Thorismuth, to horse!" While Totila, with Thorismuth and a few horsemen, galloped out of the Porta Capuana, old Isaac, who had remained bravely on the walls without tiring, took advantage of the armistice to return to his house, see his daughter, and refresh himself with meat and wine. As Miriam was bringing these, and anxiously listening to Isaac's report of the progress of the siege, a hasty and unsteady foot was heard upon the steps, and Jochem appeared before the astonished pair. "Son of Rachel, whence comest thou in an evil hour, like a raven before misfortune? How couldst thou enter? By what door?" "That is my affair. I come, Father Isaac, once more to demand thy daughter's hand--for the last time in my life." "Is this a time for wooing and wedding?" asked Isaac indignantly. "The city burns, and the streets are full of corpses." "Why does the city burn? Why are the streets full of corpses? Because the people of Neapolis hold by the people of Edom. Yes, this _is_ the time to woo. Give me thy child. Father Isaac, and I will save thee and her. I alone can do so." And he attempted to take Miriam's hand. "Thou save _me_!" she cried, starting back in disgust. "Rather would I die!" "Ha, proud girl!" cried the angry wooer; "thou wouldst be saved by the fair-haired Christian? Let us see if he can save thee--the cursed fellow!--from Belisarius and me. Ha! I will drag him through the streets by his long yellow hair, and spit in his pale face!" "Get thee away, son of Rachel!" said Isaac, rising and taking up his spear. "I see thou art a friend of those who lie outside--the horn sounds the recall; I must go down. But this I tell thee: many amongst you will fall back dead before they can climb over these rotten walls." "Perhaps," growled Jochem, "we shall fly over them, like the birds of the air. For the last time, Miriam, I ask thee: Wilt thou leave this old man and the cursed Christian? I tell thee the ruins of these walls will soon cover them. I know that thou hast taken the Goth to thy heart; but that I will forgive thee if only thou wilt be my wife." And again he tried to take her hand. "Thou wilt forgive me my love? Forgive what stands as high above thee as the sun above the creeping worm? Should I be worthy to look upon his face if I could become thy wife? Away! begone!" "Ha!" cried Jochem, "too much! too much! My wife! Never shalt thou be my wife; but thou shalt struggle in my arms, and I will tear the Christian out of thy bleeding heart as it withers in despair! Thou shalt see me again!" And he left the room, and soon disappeared from the precincts of the city. Miriam, oppressed by anxious thoughts, hurried into the open air. She felt that she must pray; but not in the close synagogue. She would pray for _him_, and she would pray to _his_ God. She shyly ventured into the neighbouring Basilica of St. Maria, whence, in peaceful times, the Jewess had often been driven with curses. But now the Christians had no time to curse. She crouched in a dark corner of the chancel, and soon forgot herself, the city, and the world, in fervent prayer. She was alone with _him_ and with God. Meanwhile, the last hour of the armistice was drawing to a close. The sun already declined to the surface of the sea. The Goths repaired and filled up the breaches of the walls with all diligence, carried away the rubbish and the dead, and extinguished the fires. For the third time the sands of the hour-glass ran out, while Belisarius, in front of his tent and surrounded by his generals, was awaiting the signal of capitulation from the Castle of Tiberius. "I don't believe in it," whispered Johannes to Procopius. "He who gives such blows as I have seen given by that old man will never surrender. And it is better so; then there will be a famous storming, and afterwards a famous plundering." Earl Uliaris now appeared upon the ramparts of the castle, and hurled his spear defiantly among the waiting sentries. Belisarius sprang up. "The fools desire their own destruction! Well, they shall be gratified. Up, generals! to the attack! Whoever is the first to plant our standard on the walls shall have a tenth part of the booty!" The leaders hurried away on all sides, spurred by avarice and ambition. Johannes was just turning the ruined arch of an aqueduct, which Belisarius had destroyed in order to deprive the besieged of water, when he heard a low voice calling his name. It was already so dark that he with difficulty recognised the man who had spoken. "What do you want, Jew!" asked Johannes. "I have no time to lose. There is hard work to be done. I must be the first into the city." "That you shall be, and without hard work, if you will follow me." "Follow you? Do you know a way through the air over the walls?" "No; but through the earth _under_ the walls. And I will show it you if you give me a thousand solidi, and promise me a certain girl as booty." Johannes stood still. "You shall have what you like! Where is this way?" "Here!" said Jochem, and struck the masonry with his hand. "What? The aqueduct? How do you know?" "I built it. A man can creep through it; there is no more water in it. I have just come this way out of the city. The passage leads into an old temple at the Porta Capuana. Take thirty men and follow me!" Johannes looked sharply at him. "And if you deceive me?" "I will walk between your drawn swords. If I lie, kill me." "Wait," cried Johannes, and hurried away. CHAPTER IV. Shortly afterwards Johannes again appeared, accompanied by his brother Perseus and about thirty brave Armenian mercenaries, who carried, besides their swords, short battle-axes. "As soon as we are inside, Perseus," said Johannes, "you must break open the sally-port to the right of the Porta Capuana at the moment when the others unfold our flag upon the walls. At this signal my Huns, who wait outside, will rush into the sally-port. But who keeps the tower at the gate? Him we must have." "Isaac, a great friend of the Edomites. He must die!" "He dies!" said Johannes, and drew his sword. "Forward!" He was the first to enter the passage of the aqueduct. "Paukares and Gubazes, take the Jew between you. At the first suspicion, down with him!" And so, now creeping on all fours, now stooping and cautiously feeling their way, in complete obscurity, the Armenians slid and crept after Johannes, taking care not to make any noise with their weapons. All at once Johannes cried in a low voice: "Hold the Jew! down with him! Enemies! Arms! No, no; let him alone!" he added quickly. "It was only a snake that rustled past me. Forward!" "Now to the right," said the Jew; "here the passage leads into the temple." "What lies here?--bones?--a skeleton! I can bear it no longer! The mouldy smell suffocates me! Help!" sighed one of the men. "Let him lie! Forward!" ordered Johannes. "I see a star!" "It is the daylight in Neapolis," said Jochem; "only a few steps more." Johannes's helmet struck against the roots of a tall olive-tree, which spread over the mouth of the passage in the atrium of the temple. We know this tree. As he avoided the roots, Johannes struck his helmet with a loud jingle against the side wall; he stopped short in alarm. But he only heard the rapid flutter of the wings of numerous pigeons which flew startled out of the branches of the olive-tree. "What was that?" said a hoarse voice above him. "How the wind howls in the old ruins!" It was the widow Arria. "O God!" she cried, kneeling before the cross, "deliver us from evil! Let not the city fall until my Jucundus returns! Alas! if he does not find his mother! Oh, let him again come the way he went that unhappy day, when he descended into the secret labyrinth to seek the hidden treasure! Show him to me as I saw him last night in my dream, rising up from below the roots of the tree!" And she turned to look at the hole. "O dark passage! into which my happiness disappeared, give it up to me again! God! by this way lead him back to me." She stood exactly before the opening with folded hands, her eyes piously raised to heaven. Johannes hesitated as he issued from the hole and perceived her. "She prays," he murmured. "Shall I kill her whilst praying!" He waited; he hoped that she would turn away. "It lasts too long! God knows I cannot help it!" And he got quickly out from among the roots. The old woman now raised her half-blind eyes; she saw a glittering form rise from the earth. A ray of ecstasy flashed across her features. She spread out her arms. "Jucundus!" she cried. It was her last breath. The sword of the Byzantine had pierced her heart. Without a cry, a smile upon her lips, she sank down amid the flowers; Miriam's flowers. Johannes turned and quickly helped up his brother Perseus, and then the Jew and the first three soldiers. "Where is the sally-port?" "Here to the left. I will go and open it!" Perseus directed the soldiers. "Where are the steps to the tower?" "Here on the right," answered Jochem--it was the staircase which led to Miriam's chamber--how often had Totila slipped in there! "Be quiet! I hear the old man." It was really Isaac. He had heard the noise from above; he came to the top of the steps with his torch and spear. "Who is it down there? is it thou, Miriam? who comes?" he asked. "I, Father Isaac," answered Jochem; "I wished once more to ask----" and he stealthily went up another step. But Isaac heard the rattle of arms. "Who is with thee!" he asked, advancing and holding out his torch. He now saw the armed men crouching behind Jochem. "Treachery! treachery!" he screamed; "die, thou blot upon the Hebrews!" and he furiously struck his broad partisan into Jochem's heart, who could not retreat. Jochem fell dead among the soldiers. "Treachery!" again cried Isaac. But the next moment Johannes struck him down, sprang over his corpse, hurried to the ramparts, and unfolded the flag of Byzantium. Below the axes were busy; the sally-port fell, beaten down from within, and with shrill cries--it was already quite dark--the Huns rushed by thousands into the city. All was over. A portion filled the streets with carnage; one troop broke open the nearest gates, letting in their comrades from outside. Old Uliaris, with his little troop, hurried from the castle; he hoped to drive the intruders out; in vain; a spear was hurled which felled him to the ground. And round his corpse fell, fighting bravely, the two hundred faithful Goths who yet surrounded him. Then, when they saw the imperial banner waving on the walls, the citizens of Neapolis arose. Led by old friends to the Romans, such as Stephanus and Antiochus the Syrian--Castor, a zealous friend of the Goths, had lost his life in attempting to hold them back--they disarmed the single Goths in the streets, and sent an embassy with thanks, congratulations, and petitions for mercy on the city to Belisarius, who, surrounded by his brilliant staff, now rode into the Porta Capuana. But he bent his majestic brow gloomily, and, without checking his charger, answered: "Neapolis has checked my progress for fifteen days, else I had already been before Rome, even before Ravenna. How much do you think this delay has robbed the Emperor of his right, and me of fame? For fifteen days your cowardice and ill-will has caused you to be governed by a handful of barbarians. The punishment for these fifteen days shall be only fifteen hours of--pillage. Without murder; the inhabitants are the Emperor's prisoners of war; without fire, for the city is a fortress of Byzantium. Where is the leader of the Goths? Dead?" "Yes," answered Johannes, "here is his sword. Earl Ularis fell." "I do not mean him!" said Belisarius; "I mean the young one; Totila. What has become of him? I must have him." "Sir," said one of the Neapolitans, a rich merchant named Asklepiodot, "if you will exempt my house and magazines from pillage, I will tell you where he is." But Belisarius made a sign, and two Moorish lancers took hold of the trembling man. "Rebel, do you make conditions to me? Speak! or torture shall unloose your tongue!" "Have pity! mercy!" cried the man. "During the armistice, Totila went out with a few horsemen to fetch reinforcements from the Castle of Aurelian. They may return at any moment." "Johannes," cried Belisarius, "that man is worth all Neapolis. We must take him! Have you, as I ordered, blocked the way to Rome, and manned the gate?" "In that direction no one can have left the city," said Johannes. "Away! At once! We must entice him in! Let the Gothic banner fly from the Castle of Tiberius and from the Porta Capuana. Send armed Neapolitans upon the walls; he who warns Totila, even were it only with a wink of his eye, dies! Arm my bodyguard with Gothic weapons. I will be there myself. Place three hundred men in the neighbourhood of the gate. Let Totila quietly in. As soon as he has passed the portcullis, let it fall. I will have him alive. He shall not be wanting at the triumph in Byzantium!" "Give me the office, general," begged Johannes; "I owe him a return for an ill stroke." And he rushed back to the Porta Capuana, ordered the corpses and all trace of combat to be removed, and took his further measures. As the men were busy obeying his orders, a veiled figure forced its way among them. "For the good God's sake," begged a sweet voice, "let me get to him! I will only see his body--oh, take care! Oh, my father! my father!" It was Miriam, who had hastened home terrified by the noise made by the plundering Huns. With the strength of despair she pushed back the spears and took Isaac's grey head into her arms. "Get away, girl!" said the soldier next to her, a very tall Bajuvar, a mercenary of Byzantium; his name was Garizo. "Do not hinder us! we must make the way clear. Into the grave with the Jew!" "No, no!" cried Miriam, and pushed the man back. "Woman!" he cried angrily, and lifted his axe. But, spreading her arms protectingly over her father's body, and with sparkling eyes, the girl fearlessly stood her ground. The soldier suddenly fell back as if paralysed. "Thou hast a bold heart, girl!" he cried, dropping his axe, "and thou art as beautiful as the wood-nymph of the Liusacha! What can I do for thee? Thou art wonderful to look at." "If the God of my fathers has touched thy heart," said Miriam in her pathetic voice, "help me to hide the body in the garden there--he has long since dug his own grave near Sarah, my mother--with his face to the east." "It shall be done," said the Bajuvar, and obeyed her. She carried the head, he the knees of the corpse. A few steps took them into the little garden; there, under a weeping-willow, lay a stone; the man pushed it away, and they laid the corpse in the grave, with its face to the east. Miriam looked into the grave without a word, without a tear; she felt so forsaken, so lonely. The Bajuvar softly pushed the stone back into its place, filled with compassion. "Come!" he said. "Whither?" asked Miriam in a low voice. "Well, whither wilt thou go?" "I do not know. I thank thee," she said, and took an amulet from her neck and gave it to him. It was made of gold, a coin from the Jordan, from the Temple. "No!" said the man, and shook his head. He took her hand, and pressed it to his eyes. "So," he said, "that will do me good all my life long. Now I must go; we must catch the Earl Totila. Farewell." That name went to Miriam's heart. She cast one more look at the quiet grave, and then slipped quickly out of the garden. She wished to go through the gate on to the highroad, but the portcullis was down, and at the gate stood men with Gothic helmets and shields. She looked about her in surprise. "Is all ready, Chanaranzes?" said a voice. "All; he is as good as taken!" "Hark! before the walls! horses trampling! It is they! Back, woman!" Outside, a few horsemen were seen trotting towards the gate. "Open, open the gate!" cried Totila from a distance. Thorismuth rode up to him. "I don't know how it is, I have no confidence," he cried. "The road was so quiet, and so was the enemy's camp out there; scarcely a few watch-fires were burning." From the ramparts came a flourish of the Gothic horn. "How horribly the fellow blows!" cried Thorismuth angrily. "It must be an Italian," said Totila. "Give the watch-word," was called from the walls in Latin. "Neapolis!" cried Totila. "Dost thou hear? Uliaris has been obliged to arm the citizens. Open the gate! I bring good news," he called to the men above. "Four hundred Goths follow at my heels, and Italy has a new king." "Which is he!" asked some one inside, in a low voice. "He on the white horse, the first one." The gate was flung wide open; Gothic helmets filled the entrance; torches shone; voices whispered. "Up with the portcullis!" cried Totila, riding up. Thorismuth looked anxiously before him, shading his eyes with his hand. "They assembled yesterday at Regeta," Totila began again. "Theodahad is deposed, and Earl Witichis----" The portcullis was slowly raised, and Totila was just about to give his horse the spur, when a woman rushed from the row of soldiers, and cast herself before the animal's hoofs. "Fly!" she cried. "The enemy is before you! the city is taken!" But she could not finish; a lance penetrated her heart. "Miriam!" cried Totila, horrified, and checked his horse. But Thorismuth, who was close behind, and who had long been suspicious, now reached his arm past the grating, and separated the rope which held the portcullis up with his sword, so that the portcullis fell with a loud crash just in front of Totila. A hail of spears and arrows flew through the portcullis. "Up with the portcullis!" cried Johannes from within. "Out! Upon them!" But Totila did not move. "Miriam! Miriam!" he cried in great grief. Once more she opened her eyes, with a dying look of love and pain. That look told everything; it pierced Totila's heart. "For thee!" she sighed, and fell back. He forgot Neapolis, danger, and death. "Miriam!" he cried again, and stretched out both his hands. An arrow touched his horse's flank; the noble animal reared. The portcullis began to rise. Thorismuth caught Totila's bridle, wrenched his horse round, and gave it such a stroke with the flat of his sword, that it galloped away like the wind. "Up and away, sir!" he cried, rushing after Totila. "They must be speedy who would overtake us!" And the riders flew back on the Via Capuana, the way that they had come. Not far behind followed Johannes, ignorant of the way, and confused by the darkness of the night. Totila's party presently met with the garrison of the Castle of Aurelian, which was marching towards Neapolis. They all halted together upon a hill, whence they could see the city and the ramparts, partially illuminated by the Byzantine watch-fires on the walls. Only then did Totila recover from his grief and consternation. "Farewell, Miriam!" he sighed. "Farewell, Uliaris! Neapolis, I shall see thee again!" And he gave orders to march forward to Rome. But from this hour a shadow fell upon the soul of the young Goth. Miriam, with the holy right of suffering, had buried herself in his heart for ever. When Johannes returned from his fruitless pursuit, and sprang from his horse, he cried in a furious voice: "Where is the girl who warned him? Throw her to the dogs!" And he hurried away to Belisarius, to report the mishap. But no one could tell how the lovely corpse had disappeared. The horses had trampled it beyond recognition, thought the crowd. But _one_ knew better--Garizo, the Bajuvar. He had borne her away from the tumult in his strong arms like a sleeping child; had carried her into the little garden, had lifted the stone from the scarcely-covered grave, and had laid the daughter carefully by her father's side. Then he stood still and contemplated her features. In the distance sounded the tumult from the plundered town, in which the Huns of Belisarius, in spite of his command, burned and murdered, and did not even spare the churches, until the general himself, rushing amongst them with his drawn sword, put a stop to the cruel work of destruction. Such a noble expression lay upon Miriam's dead face, that Garizo did not dare to kiss it, as he so much longed to do. So he placed her with her face to the east, gathered a rose which was blooming near the grave, and laid it upon her breast. He wished to take part in the pillage, but he could not leave the place; he turned back again. And all the night long, leaning on his sword, he kept watch over the grave of the beauteous girl. He looked up at the stars and repeated an ancient blessing on the dead, which his mother had taught him in his home on the Liusacha. But that did not satisfy him; he added a Christian paternoster. And when the sun rose, he carefully placed the stone over the grave and went away. Thus Miriam had disappeared without leaving a trace behind. But in Neapolis the people, who in secret were faithful to Totila, told how his guardian angel had descended to save him, and had then reascended to heaven. CHAPTER V. The fall of Neapolis had occurred a few days after the meeting at Regeta, and Totila, on his march thither, met at Formiæ with his brother Hildebad, whom King Witichis had at once sent off with a few thousands to strengthen the garrison at Neapolis, until he himself could follow with a larger force. As things stood at present, the brothers could do nothing but fall back upon the main army at Regeta, where Totila reported the sad events of the last few days in Neapolis. The loss of the third city of the realm--one of the main bulwarks of Italy--changed the whole plan of the Gothic campaign. Witichis had reviewed the troops assembled at Regeta; they amounted to about twenty thousand men. These, with the little troop brought back by Earl Teja on his own account, were, for the moment, the whole available force. Before the strong divisions which Theodahad had sent away to southern Gaul and Noricum, to Istria and Dalmatia--although they had been summoned in all haste--could return, all Italy might be lost. Notwithstanding, the King had resolved to throw himself, with these twenty thousand, into the fortress of Neapolis, and there oppose the superior forces of the enemy, until reinforcements should arrive. But now that the strong city had fallen into Belisarius's hand, Witichis gave up this plan. His composed courage was as far from foolhardiness as from timidity. And the King was obliged to force himself to a far more painful resolve. While, during the days following Totila's arrival in the camp before Rome, the grief and anger of the Goths sought relief in cursing the traitor Theodahad, Belisarius, and the Italians; while the bold youth here and there began to grumble at the King's delay, who would not lead them against these degenerate Greeks, four of whom it took to stand against one Goth; while the impatience of the army already began to rebel against inactivity, the King acknowledged to himself, with a heavy heart, that it was necessary to retreat still farther, and even give up Rome. Day by day news came of the increase of the army of Belisarius. At Neapolis alone he had gained ten thousand men--at once hostages and comrades. From all sides the Italians joined his flag; from Neapolis to Rome, no place was strong enough to oppose such a force, and the smaller towns on the coast opened their gates to the enemy with rejoicing. The Gothic families dwelling in those parts fled to the camp of the King, and told how, the very day after the fall of Neapolis, Cumæ and Atilla had succumbed; then followed Capua, Cajeta, and even the fortified Benevento. The vanguard of Belisarius--Huns, Saracens, and Moorish horsemen--was already stationed before Formiæ. The Goths expected and desired a battle before the gates of Rome. But Witichis had long since seen the impossibility, with an army of only twenty thousand men, of encountering Belisarius, who, by that time, would be able to muster a hundred thousand in the open field. For a time he entertained the idea of being able to hold the mighty fortifications of Rome--Cethegus's proud work--against the Byzantine incursion; but he was soon obliged to renounce even this hope. The population of Rome now counted--thanks to the Prefect--more armed and practised men than they had possessed for many a century, and the King daily convinced himself of the spirit which animated them. Even now the Romans could scarcely restrain their hatred of the barbarians; it was not only evinced by unfriendly and mocking gestures; already the Goths dared not venture into the streets except in well-armed numbers, and every day single Gothic sentries were found dead, stabbed from behind. Witichis could not conceal from himself that the different elements of the popular feeling were organised and guided by cunning and powerful leaders: the heads of the Roman aristocracy and the Roman clergy. He was obliged to confess that, so soon as Belisarius should appear before the walls, the Roman population would rise, and, together with the besiegers, would overcome the weak Gothic garrison. So Witichis had unwillingly resolved to give up Rome and all central Italy; to throw himself into the strong and faithful city of Ravenna; there to complete the very incomplete armament of the troops, to unite all the Gothic forces, and then to seek the enemy with an equally powerful army. This resolution was a great sacrifice. For Witichis had his full share of the Germanic love of fight, and it was a hard blow to his pride to retreat and seek for means of defence, instead of striking at once. But there was still more. It was inglorious for a king who had been raised to the throne of the cowardly Theodahad because of his known courage, to begin his rule with a shameful retreat. He had lost Neapolis during the first days of his reign; should he now voluntarily give up Rome, the city of splendours? Should he give up more than the half of Italy? And if he thus controlled his pride for the sake of his people--what would that people think of him? These Goths, with their impetuosity, their contempt of the enemy! Could he be sure of enforcing their obedience? For the office of a Germanic king was more to advise and propose, than to order and compel. Already many a ruler of this people had been forced against his will to engage in war and suffer defeat. He feared a similar thing. With a heavy heart, he one night paced to and fro his tent in the camp at Regeta. All at once hasty steps drew near, and the curtain of the tent was pulled open. "Up! King of the Goths!" cried a passionate voice. "It is no time now to sleep!" "I do not sleep, Teja," said Witichis; "since when art thou returned? What bringest thou?" "I have just entered the camp; the dews of night are still upon me. First know that they are dead!" "Who? "The traitor and the murderess!" "What! hast thou killed them both?" "I kill no woman. I followed Theodahad, the traitor-king, for two days and two nights. He was on the way to Ravenna; he had a fair start. But my hatred was swifter than his cowardice. I overtook him near Narnia; twelve slaves accompanied his litter. They had no desire to die for the miserable man; they threw away their torches and fled. I tore him out of his litter, and put my own sword into his hand. But he fell upon his knees, begged for his life, and, at the same moment, aimed a treacherous stroke at me. Then I slew him like an ox at the altar; with three strokes--one for the realm, two for my parents. And I hung him up by his belt to a withered yew-tree on the high-road, a prey to the birds of the air, and a warning to the kings of the earth." "And what became of her?" "Her end was terrible," said Teja, shuddering. "When I first passed through Rome, nothing was known of her but that she had refused to follow the coward-king. He fled alone. Gothelindis called her Cappadocian mercenaries together, and promised them heaps of gold, if they would keep by her, go with her to Dalmatia, and occupy the fortress of Salona. The men hesitated and wished to see the gold. Then Gothelindis promised to bring it, and left them. Since then she had disappeared. When I passed through Rome the second time, she had been found----" "Well?" "She had ventured into the Catacombs alone, without a guide, to fetch the treasure which had been hidden there. She must have lost herself in the labyrinth; she could not find the way out. Mercenaries who were sent to seek her, found her still alive; her torch was not burnt down, but was almost entire; it must have gone out soon after she had entered the Catacombs. Madness shone from her eyes; fear of death and a long despair had overcome this bad woman; she died as soon as she was brought to the light." "Horrible!" cried Witichis. "A just punishment!" said Teja. "But listen!" Before he could continue, Totila, Hildebad, Hildebrand, and several other Goths rushed into the tent. "Does he know!" asked Totila. "Not yet," said Teja. "Rebellion!" cried Hildebad, "rebellion! Up, King Witichis! Defend thy crown! Off with the boy's head!" "What has happened?" asked Witichis quietly. "Earl Arahad of Asta, the vain fool! has rebelled. Immediately after you had been chosen King, he rode off to Florentia, where his elder brother, Guntharis, the proud Duke of Tuscany, lives and rules. There the Wölfungs have found many adherents. Arahad called upon the Goths everywhere to protect the 'Royal Lily,' as they call her, Mataswintha, the true heir to the throne! They have proclaimed her Queen. She was in Florentia at the time, and therefore fell at once into their hands. It is not known if she be the prisoner of Guntharis or the wife of Arahad. It is only known that they have enlisted Avarian and Gepidian mercenaries, and armed all the adherents of the Amelungs and their kith and kindred, together with the numerous adherents of the Wölfungs. Thee they call the 'Peasant-King;' they intend to take Ravenna!" "Oh, send me to Florentia, with only three thousand," cried Hildebad angrily; "I will bring you this Queen of the Goths, together with her aristocratic lover, imprisoned in a bird-cage!" But the others looked anxious. "Things look bad," said Hildebrand. "Belisarius with his hundred thousands before us--at our backs the wily Rome--our main forces still fifty miles off--and now civil war and rebellion in the heart of the nation!" But Witichis was as quiet and composed as ever. "It is perhaps better so," he said. "We have now no choice. We _must_ retreat." "Retreat!" asked Hildebad angrily. "Yes; we dare not leave an enemy at our backs. To-morrow we break up the camp and go----" "Forward to Neapolis!" asked Hildebad. "No. Back to Rome. And farther! To Florentia, to Ravenna! The spark of rebellion must be trampled out ere it burst into a flame." "What? Thou wilt retreat before Belisarius?" "Yes, to advance all the more irresistibly, Hildebad. The string of the bow is also stretched backward to hurl the deadly arrow with the greater force." "Never," cried Hildebad; "thou canst not--thou darest not do that!" But Witichis stepped quietly up to him and laid his hand upon his shoulder. "I am thy King. Thou thyself hast chosen me. Loud above all the others sounded _thy_ cry: 'Hail, King Witichis!' Thou knowest--God knows--that I did not stretch forth my hand for the crown. You yourselves have pressed it upon my brow. Take it off, if you can entrust it to me no longer. But as long as I wear it, trust me and obey. Otherwise you and I are lost!" "Thou art right," said sturdy Hildebad, and bent his head. "Forgive me; I will make it good in the next fight." "Up, my generals," concluded Witichis, putting on his helmet. "Thou, Totila, wilt hasten to the Frank Kings in Gaul, on an important embassy. You others hasten to your troops; break up the camp; at sunrise we march to Rome." CHAPTER VI. A few days later, on the eve of the entry of the Goths into Rome, we find the young "knights," Lucius and Marcus Licinius, Piso the poet, Balbus the corpulent, and Julianus the young advocate, assembled in confidential talk at the Prefect's house. "So this is the list of the blind partisans of the future Pope Silverius--of my envious enemies? Is it complete?" "It is. I have made a great sacrifice for you, general," cried Lucius Licinius, "If, as my heart impelled me, I had at once joined Belisarius, I should have already shared in the taking of Neapolis, instead of watching here the stealthy footsteps of the priests, and teaching the plebeians to march and man[oe]uvre." "They will never learn it again," observed Marcus. "Be patient," said Cethegus quietly, and without looking up from a roll of papyrus which he held in his hand. "You will be able, soon enough and long enough, to wrestle with these Gothic bears. Do not forget that fighting is only a means, and not an end." "I don't know that," said Lucius doubtfully. "Freedom is our aim, and freedom demands power," said Cethegus. "We must first again accustom these Romans to shield and sword, or else----" He was interrupted by the entrance of the ostiarius, who announced a Gothic warrior. The young Romans exchanged indignant looks. "Let him in," said Cethegus, putting his writings into a casket. There entered hastily a young man, clad in the brown mantle of the Gothic soldier, a Gothic helmet on his head, who threw himself on the Prefect's neck. "Julius!" exclaimed Cethegus, coldly repulsing him. "Do we meet again thus? Have you, then, become a complete barbarian? How did you come to Rome?" "My father, I accompanied Valeria, under Gothic protection. I come from smouldering Neapolis." "Aha!" cried Cethegus. "Have you fought with your blond friend against Italy? That becomes a Roman well! Does it not, Lucius?" "I have neither fought nor will fight in this unhappy war. Woe to those who have kindled it!" Cethegus measured him with cold looks. "It is beneath my dignity, and beyond my patience, to represent to a Roman the infamy of such sentiments. Alas! that my Julius should be such a renegade! Shame upon you, before these your compatriots! Look, Roman knights, here is a Roman without love of freedom, without anger against the barbarians!" But Julius quietly shook his head. "You have not yet seen the Huns and Massagetæ of Belisarius, who are to bring you freedom. Where, then, are the Romans of whom you speak? Has Italy risen to throw off her fetters? Can she still rise? Justinian fights with the Goths, not we. Woe to the people which is liberated by a tyrant!" In secret Cethegus confessed that Julius was right; but he would not suffer such words to be spoken before his friends. "I must dispute with this philosopher in private," he said. "Let me know if anything occur among the priesthood." And the tribunes went, casting contemptuous looks at Julius. "I should not like to hear what my friends say of you," said Cethegus, looking after them. "It is quite indifferent to me. I listen to my own thoughts, and not to those of others," responded Julius. "He has become a man!" said Cethegus to himself. "My deepest and best feelings have brought me here," continued Julius. "I feel that this war is accursed. I come to save you, and take you from this sultry air, from this world of deceit and lies. I beseech you, my friend, my father, follow me to Gaul!" "_I_ leave Italy at the moment of the liberators' approach! You must know that it was I who called them; _I_ kindled this war, which you call accursed!" "I feared it," said Julius sadly. "But who will deliver us from our deliverers? Who will end the struggle?" "I!" said Cethegus, with quiet majesty. "And you, my son, shall help me. Yes, Julius, your fatherly friend, whom you think so cold and indifferent, can also be enthusiastic, though not for girls' eyes and Gothic friendships. Leave these boys' pastimes; you are now a man. Give me the last joy of my desolate life, and be the sharer of my battles and the inheritor of my victories! It is for Rome, freedom, power! Boy, can my words not move you? Imagine," he continued, more warmly--"imagine these Goths, these Byzantines--I hate them as heartily as you do--exhausted by each other and overcome. On the ruins of their power Italy--Rome--will rise in all its ancient splendour! Again the ruler of the East and West will sit enthroned upon the Capitoline Hill. A new Roman Emperor, prouder than ever your Cæsar-forefather dreamed of, will extend order, blessing, and awe over all the earth----" "And the ruler of this Empire will be called--Cethegus Cæsarius!" "Yes; and after him, Julius Montanus! Up, Julius! you are no man if this goal does not tempt you!" "I am dizzy," said Julius admiringly. "The goal is high as the stars; but your ways--are crooked. Ah! if they were straight, by God! I would share your steps! Yes; call the Roman youth to arms; cry to both the barbarian forces, 'Out of our holy Latium!' make open war against the barbarians and against the tyrants, and I will stand or fall at your side." "You know well that this is impossible." "And, therefore--it is your aim!" "Fool! do you not see that it is common to form a structure from good material, but that it is divine by one's own strength to create a new world out of nothing?" "Divine? By cunning and lies? No!" "Julius!" "Let me speak plainly; for that purpose am I come. Oh that I could call you back from the demoniac path, which will only lead you to destruction! You know that I ever loved and honoured you. But what I hear whispered of you by Greeks, Goths, and Romans, is not in tune with this reverence." "What do they whisper?" asked Cethegus proudly. "I do not like to think of it. But everything terrible that has happened lately--the death of Athalaric, Camilla, and Amalaswintha, the landing of the Byzantines--is named as the work of a demon, who is the author of all evil; and this demon--is you! Tell me, simply and truly, that you are free from this dark----" "Boy," exclaimed Cethegus, "are you my confessor, and would call me to account? First learn to understand the aim before you blame the means. Do you think that history is built of roses and lilies? Who wills what is great must do great things, whether the small call it good or bad." "No, no, I repeat. Cursed be the aim which only leads to crime! Here our paths divide." "Julius, do not go. You despise what was never before offered to mortal man. Let me have a son, for whom I can strive, to whom I can bequeath the inheritance of my life." "Curses and blood stick to it! And even if I could enter at once upon this inheritance, I should reject it. I will go, so that I may not see your image grow still darker. But I beg one thing: when the day comes--and it will come--when you are weary of all this bloodshed and crime, and of the aim itself which necessitated such deeds, then call me. I will come to you, wherever I may be, and I will wrest you from the demoniac power which enthralls you, were it at the price of my own life." At first a smile of mockery passed across the Prefect's lips, but he thought, "He still loves me. 'Tis good; I will call him when the work is finished. Let us see if he can then resist--if he will refuse the Empire of the world." "Well," he said aloud, "I will call you when I need you. Farewell." And, with a cold gesture, he dismissed the youth, who was overcome with emotion. But as the door closed behind Julius, the Prefect took a small medal of embossed bronze from a box, and contemplated it for some time. He was about to kiss it. But suddenly the sarcastic expression again passed across his lips. "Shame on thee, Cethegus!" he exclaimed, "before Cæsar's face!" And he put the medal back into the box. It was the head of a woman, and very like Julius. CHAPTER VII. Meanwhile it had become quite dark. The slave brought the pretty bronze lamp of Corinthian workmanship--an eagle, which carried the ball of the sun in its beak, filled with scented Persian oil. "A Gothic warrior waits outside, sir; he wishes to speak with you alone. He looks very insignificant. Shall he lay down his arms?" "No," answered Cethegus. "We do not fear the barbarians. Let him in." The slave went, and Cethegus laid his right hand upon the dagger in the bosom of his tunic. A stately Goth entered, the cowl of his brown mantle drawn over his head. He now threw it back. Cethegus started forward in astonishment. "What leads the King of the Goths to me?" "Softly!" said Witichis. "No one need know what we two transact. You know that yesterday and to-day my army has entered Rome from Regeta. You do not know that we leave Rome to-morrow!" Cethegus looked amazed. "It surprises you?" "The city is secure," said Cethegus quietly. "Yes; but not the fidelity of the Romans. Benevento has already gone over to Belisarius. I have no wish to allow myself to be crushed between Belisarius and you." Cethegus was prudently silent; he did not know to what this would lead. At last he asked: "Wherefore are you come. King of the Goths?" "Not to ask you how far the Romans may be trusted; and also not to complain that we can trust you so little--you, whom Theodoric and his daughter overwhelmed with benefits--but honestly and simply to arrange a few things with you, for our mutual well-being." Cethegus was surprised. In the proud frankness of this man lay something which he envied. He would gladly have despised it. "We shall leave Rome," continued Witichis, "and shortly afterwards the Romans will admit Belisarius. It is sure to be so; I cannot hinder it. I have been advised to take the heads of the aristocracy as hostages." Cethegus started, and with difficulty hid the movement. "You before all, the Princeps Senatus." "Me?" said Cethegus, smiling. "I shall leave you here. I know well that you are the soul of Rome." Cethegus cast down his eyes, "I accept the oracle," he thought. "But for that very reason I leave you here," Witichis continued. "Hundreds who call themselves Romans would like the Byzantines for masters. You--you would not have it." Cethegus looked inquiringly at him. "Do not deceive me. Do not try to deceive me. I am no man of craft or cunning! but my eye penetrates men's natures. You are too proud to serve Justinian, and I know that you hate us. But neither do you love these Greeks, and you will suffer them no longer than is necessary. Therefore I leave you here; I know you love this city." There was something about this man which compelled Cethegus to admiration. "King of the Goths," he said, "you speak plainly and nobly, like a king. I thank you. It shall not be said of Cethegus that he does not understand magnanimous words. It is as you say. I shall keep my Rome Roman with all my might." "Good!" said Witichis. "See, I have been warned against your wiles; I know much of your secret plans; I guess still more; and I know that I have no weapon against deceit. But you are no liar. I knew that a manly word would touch you; and trust disarms every enemy who is worthy of being called a man." "You honour me. King of the Goths. That I may deserve your trust, let me warn you. Do you know who are the warmest friends of Belisarius?" "I know it: Silverius and the priests." "Right! And do you know that, as soon as the old Pope, Agapetus, is dead, Silverius will ascend the Bishop's Chair?" "So I hear. I was advised to take him as a hostage too. I shall not do so. The Italians hate us enough already. I will not meddle with the wasps' nest of the priests. I fear martyrs." But Cethegus would gladly have been rid of the priest, "He will be dangerous in the Chair of Peter," he said warningly. "Let him alone! The possession of this country will not be decided by the schemes of the priesthood." "Well," said Cethegus, taking the roll of papyrus, "I have here, accidentally, the names of his warmest friends; there are men of importance amongst them." He would have pressed the list upon Witichis, hoping that then the Goths would take his most dangerous enemies away with them. But Witichis refused the list. "'Tis no matter! I shall take no hostages at all. Of what use is it to take off their heads? _You_, shall answer to me for Rome." "What do you mean by that? I cannot keep Belisarius away." "You shall not. Belisarius is sure to come, but, rely upon it, he will go away again. We Goths will overcome this enemy; perhaps only after a hard fight, but most certainly. And then there will be a second fight for Rome!" "A second?" asked Cethegus quietly. "With whom?" Witichis laid his hand upon the Prefect's shoulder, and looked into his face with eyes as clear as sunshine. "With you, Prefect of Rome!" "With me?" and Cethegus tried to smile, but could not. "Do not deny what is dearest to you, man. It is not worthy of you. I know for whom you have built the gates and ramparts round this city; not for us and not for the Greeks! for yourself! Be quiet! I know you meditate, or I guess it. Not a word! Be it so. Shall Greek and Goth struggle for Rome, and no Roman? But listen: let not a second wearing war carry off our people. When we have overcome the Byzantines and driven them out of our Italy--then, Cethegus, I will expect you before the walls of Rome. Not for a battle between our people, but for single combat. Man against man, you and I will lose or win Rome." In the King's look and tone lay such dignity, magnanimity, and sublimity, that the Prefect was confused. In secret he would have mocked at the simplicity of the barbarian, but it seemed to him as if he could never more respect himself, if he were incapable of esteeming, honouring, and responding to such greatness. So he spoke without sarcasm. "You dream, Witichis, like a Gothic boy." "No, I think and act like a Gothic man. Cethegus, you are the only Roman whom I would honour thus. I have seen you fight in the wars with the Gepidæ. You are worthy of my sword. You are older than I; well, I will give you the advantage of the shield!" "You Germans are very singular," said Cethegus involuntarily. "What fancies!" But now Witichis frowned. "Fancies! Woe to you, if you are not able to feel what speaks in me. Woe to you, if Teja be right! He laughed at my plan and said, 'The Roman will not understand that!' And _he_ advised me to take you with me a prisoner. I thought more highly of you and Rome. But know: Teja has surrounded your house; and are you so mean or so cowardly as not to comprehend me, we shall take you from your Rome in chains. Shame upon you, that you must be forced to do what is honourable!" But now it was Cethegus's turn to get angry. He felt abashed. The chivalry of Witichis was strange to him, and it vexed him that he could not mock at it. It vexed him to be compelled; that his free choice had been mistrusted. A furious hatred in return for Teja's contempt, and anger at the King's brutal frankness, flamed up in his soul. He would gladly have thrust his dagger into the Goth's broad breast. He had been almost on the point of giving his word in good earnest from a soldierly feeling of honour. But now a very different, hateful feeling of malignant joy flashed across his mind. The barbarians had mistrusted him, they had despised him; now they should certainly be deceived! Coming forward with a keen look, he grasped the King's hand. "Be it so!" he said. "Be it so!" repeated Witichis, giving his hand a strong pressure. "I am glad that I was right and not Teja. Farewell! Guard our Rome! From you I will demand her again in honourable combat." And he left the house. "Well!" said Teja, who waited outside with the other Goths. "Shall I storm the house?" "No," said Witichis; "he has given his word." "If he will only keep it!" Witichis started back in indignation. "Teja! thy gloomy mind renders thee too unjust! Thou hast no right to doubt a hero's honour. Cethegus is a hero!" "He is a Roman! Good-night!" said Teja, sheathing his sword. And he turned another way with his Goths. But Cethegus tossed all night upon his couch. He was at variance with himself. He was vexed with Julius. He was bitterly vexed with Witichis, more bitterly still with Teja. But most with himself. The next day Witichis once again assembled people. Senate, and the clergy of the city, at the Thermæ of Titus. From the highest step of the marble staircase of the handsome building, which was filled with the leaders of the army, the King made a simple speech to the Romans. He declared that he must leave the city for a short time, but that he would soon return. He reminded them of the mildness of the Gothic government, of the benefits of Theodoric and Amalaswintha, and called upon them courageously to oppose Belisarius, in case of his advance, until the Goths returned to reinforce them. The newly-drilled legionaries and the strong fortifications made a long resistance possible. Finally he demanded the oath of allegiance, and asked them once more to defend their city to the death against Belisarius. The Romans hesitated; for their thoughts were already in Belisarius's camp, and they disliked to perjure themselves. Just at this crisis a solemn hymn was heard in the direction of the Via Sacra; and past the Flavian Amphitheatre came a long procession of priests, swinging censers, and singing psalms. In the night Pope Agapetus had died, and, in all haste, Silverius, the archdeacon, had been appointed as his successor. Solemnly and slowly the crowd of priests advanced; the insignia of the Bishop of Rome were carried in front; choristers with silvery voices sang sweet and sacred airs. At last the Pope's litter appeared open, richly gilt, and shaped like a boat. The bearers walked slowly, step by step, in time to the music; pressed upon by crowds of people, who were eager to receive the blessing of their new Bishop. Silverius bent his head to the right and left, and blessed the people repeatedly. A number of priests and a troop of mercenaries, armed with spears, closed the procession. It halted in the middle of the square. The Arian and Gothic warriors, who stood sentry at all the entrances of the place, silently watched the solemn and splendid procession, the symbol of a church which was their enemy; while the Romans greeted the appearance of their Apostolic Father all the more joyfully, because his voice could calm their scruples of conscience as to the oath to be given. Silverius was just about to begin his address to the people, when the arm of a gigantic Goth, stretched over the side of his litter, pulled him by his gold-brocaded mantle. Indignant at this very irreverent interruption, Silverius turned his face with a severe frown; but the Goth, unabashed, repeated the pull, and said: "Come, priest, thou must go up to the King!" Silverius thought it would have been more becoming if the King had come down to him, and Hildebad seemed to read something of this feeling on his features, for he cried: "It cannot be helped! Stoop, priest!" And herewith he pressed his hand upon the shoulder of one of the priests who carried the litter. The bearers now set the litter down; Silverius left it with a sigh, and followed Hildebad up the steps. When the priest reached Witichis, the latter took his hand, advanced with him to the edge of the steps, and said: "Roman citizens, your priest has been chosen for your Bishop; I ratify the choice; he shall become Pope, as soon as he has sworn the oath of allegiance, and has taken for me your oaths of fealty. Swear, priest!" For one moment Silverius was confounded. But immediately recovering himself, he turned with an unctuous smile to Witichis. "You command?" he asked. "Swear," said Witichis, "that in our absence you will do all that you can to keep this city of Rome faithful to the Goths, to whom you owe so much, to further us in all things, and to hinder the progress of our enemies. Swear fidelity to the Goths!" "I swear," said Silverius, turning to the people. "And thus I, who have power to bind and to loose, call upon you, Romans, surrounded as you are by Gothic weapons, to swear in the same spirit in which I myself have taken the oath." The priests and some of the nobility appeared to have understood, and lifted their hands to swear without delay. Then the mass hesitated no longer, and the place echoed with the loud shout: "We swear fidelity to the Goths!" "It is well, Bishop of Rome," said the King, "we count upon your oath. Farewell, Romans! We shall soon meet again." And he descended the broad flight of steps. Teja and Hildebad followed him. "Now I am only curious--" said Earl Teja. "Whether they will keep their oath?" interposed Hildebad. "No; not at all. But how they will break it. Well, the priest will find out the way." With flying standards the Goths marched out of the Porta Flaminia, leaving the city to its Pope and the Prefect. Meanwhile Belisarius approached by forced marches upon the Via Latina. CHAPTER VIII. The city of Florentia was full of eager and warlike activity. The gates were closed; on the ramparts and bastions paced numerous sentinels; the streets rang with the clatter of mounted Goths and armed mercenaries; for Guntharis and Arahad had thrown themselves into this fortress, and, for the present, had made it the main stronghold of the rebellion against Witichis. The two brothers lived in a handsome villa which Theodoric had built on the shores of the Arnus, in the suburb but still within the enclosure of the walls. Duke Guntharis of Tuscany, the elder, was a far-famed warrior, and had been for years the commander of the city of Florentia. Within this district lay the estates of his powerful family, cultivated by thousands of farmers and vassals; his power in this city and district was unlimited, and Duke Guntharis was resolved to use it to the utmost. In full armour, his helmet upon his head, Guntharis walked impatiently to and fro his marble-wainscoted room, while his younger brother, in festive garments and unarmed, leaned silently and thoughtfully against a table, which was covered with letters and parchments. "Decide; make haste, my boy!" cried Guntharis, "it is my last word. To-day thou wilt obtain the consent of the obstinate child, or I--dost thou hear?--I will go myself to fetch it. But then, woe be to her. I know better than thou how to manage a capricious girl." "Brother, thou wilt not do that?" "By the Thunderer! but I will. Dost think I will risk my head, and delay the good-fortune of my house, for the sake of thy sentimental consideration? Now is the time to procure the first place in the nation for the Wölfungs; the place which by right belongs to them, and from which the Amelungs and Balthes have ousted them for centuries. The last daughter of the Amelungs, once thy wife, no one can dispute thy possession of the throne; and my sword will protect it against the Peasant-King, Witichis. But we must not delay too long. I have yet no news from Ravenna, but I fear the city will only acknowledge Mataswintha, and not us; that is, not us alone. And whoever has Ravenna, has Italy, since Neapolis and Rome are lost; therefore that strong fortress must be ours. To insure this, Mataswintha must become thy wife before we reach the walls of Ravenna; else it will be reported that she is more our prisoner than our Queen." "Who desires it more ardently than I? But yet I cannot use compulsion!" "No? Why not? Seek her and win her, well or ill. I go to strengthen the guard upon the walls. When I return I must have an answer." Duke Guntharis went; and his brother made his way, sighing, into the garden to seek Mataswintha. This garden had been laid out by a skilled freedman from Asia Minor. In the background he had formed a kind of park, the glades of which, free from flowerbeds or terraces, were luxuriantly green. Through the flowery grass and amongst the thick oleanders flowed a clear brook. Close to the edge of the brook lay, stretched upon the turf, a youthful female figure. She had thrown her mantle back from her right arm, and seemed to be playing, now with the murmuring ripples, now with the nodding flowers on the brink. She was buried in thought, and at intervals threw a violet or a crocus dreamily into the water, watching the blossoms with slightly opened lips, as they were swiftly borne away by the running stream. Close behind her kneeled a young girl in the dress of a Moorish slave, busily weaving a wreath of flowers, which only wanted the finishing touches. Every now and then she looked at her meditative mistress, to see if she noticed her secret occupation. But the lady seemed quite lost in reverie. At last the pretty wreath was finished; with laughing eyes the slave placed it lightly upon the splendid auburn hair of her mistress, and bent forward over her shoulder to meet her eyes. But the lady had not felt the flowers touch her head. Then the little slave became impatient, and, pouting, said: "But, mistress, by the palms of the Auras! of what art thou thinking? With whom art thou?" "With him!" whispered her mistress. "By the white goddess! I can bear it no longer," cried the little slave-girl, springing up; "it is too bad; I shall die of jealousy! Thou not only forgettest me, thy gay gazelle, but also thine own beauty--and all for this invisible man! Only look into the water and see how beautifully thy bright hair contrasts with the dark violets and white anemones." "Thy wreath is pretty!" said Mataswintha, taking it off and throwing it gently into the water. "What sweet flowers! Greet him from me!" "Oh, my poor flowers!" cried the slave, looking after them; but she did not dare to scold. "Only tell me," she cried, sitting down again beside her mistress, "how all this is to end? We have been here now for many days, we do not rightly know if as Queen or prisoner? In any case we are in the power of strangers. We have never set our feet out of thy apartments or of this well-walled garden, and know nothing of the outside world. But thou art ever still and happy, as if it must be so!" "And it must be so!" "Indeed? and how will it end?" "_He_ will come and set me free." "Truly, White Lily, thou hast strong faith. If we were at home in Mauretania, and I saw thee looking at night at the stars, I should say that thou hadst read everything there. But in this way I do not understand it," and she shook her black locks, "and I shall never understand it." "But thou shalt and wilt, Aspa!" said Mataswintha, raising herself, and putting her white arm tenderly round the girl's brown neck; "thy faithful love has long since deserved this reward, the best that I can give thee." A tear rose in the slave's dark eye. "Reward?" she said. "Aspa was stolen by wild men with long red locks. Aspa is a slave. Every one has scolded and beaten her. Thou boughtest me as a flower is bought. But thou strokest my cheek and my hair. Thou art as beautiful as the Goddess of the Sun, and thou speakest of reward?" And she nestled her head upon the bosom of her mistress. "Thou art my gazelle!" said Mataswintha; "thou hast a heart of gold. Thou shalt know all; thou shalt hear what is known to none but myself. Listen; my childhood was without love, without joy; and yet my young soul needed both. My poor mother had ardently longed for a boy, for an heir to the throne--and she treated the girl who was born to her with dislike, coldness, and severity. When Athalaric was born, she became less harsh but more cold; all her love and care went to the heir to the throne. I should not have felt it, had I not seen just the contrary in my tender father. I felt that he also suffered under the coldness of his wife, and the sick man often pressed me to his heart with tears and sighs. And when he was dead and buried, all the love in the world was dead for me. I saw little of Athalaric; he was educated by other teachers in another part of the palace. I saw my mother still less; scarcely ever, unless she had to punish me. And yet I loved her so much! And I saw how my nurses and teachers loved their own children, and kissed and petted them; and my heart longed with all its might for similar warmth and affection. So I grew up like a pale flower without sunshine! My favourite place in all the world was the grave of my father Eutharic, in the large palace garden at Ravenna. There, with the dead, I sought the love which I did not find in the living; and whenever I could escape my attendants, I hurried there to indulge in my longing and to weep. The older I grew, the more this longing increased. In the presence of my mother I was forced to hide all my feelings; she despised me if I showed them. As I grew up I saw very well that people's eyes were fixed upon me as if in admiration; but I thought that they pitied me, and that pained me. "And more and more frequently I took refuge by the grave of my father, until they told my mother that I always wept there and returned quite disordered. My mother angrily forbade me to go to the grave, and spoke of contemptible weakness. But I revolted against this prohibition. Then one day she surprised me there, and struck at me, and yet I was no longer a child. She took me back to the palace and scolded me violently, threatening to send me away; and, as she left me, she said angrily: why had heaven punished her with such a child! That was too much. Unspeakably miserable, I resolved to run away from this mother, to whom I was a punishment, and to go where no one knew me, I did not know whither. I would most gladly have joined my father in his quiet tomb. When evening came, I stole out of the palace, and hurried once more to the grave to take a long farewell. The stars were already out. I slipped out of the garden and the palace, and hastened through the dark streets to the Faventinian Gate. I managed to slip past the sentinel, and ran a little way along the high-road, into the night; straight to misery. But a man in armour came along the road towards me. As I tried to pass him, he suddenly came up to me, looked into my face, and gently laid his hand upon my shoulder, saying 'Whither, Lady Mataswintha, whither goest thon alone, and so late at night?' I trembled under his hand, tears burst from my eyes, and I cried, sobbing, 'I am desperate!' Then the man took hold of both my hands and looked at me; so kindly, so mildly, so sadly! He dried my tears with his mantle, and said, in a tone of the warmest kindness, 'Wherefore? what troubles thee so?' I felt both happy and miserable at the sound of his voice. And as I looked into his kind eyes, I could no longer control myself. 'Because my mother hates me,' I cried; 'because there is no love for me on earth!' 'Child, child, thou art sick,' he said, 'and ravest! Come, come back with me. Thou! only wait. Thou wilt yet be a queen of love.' I did not understand him. But I loved him, oh so much! for these words, for this kindness. Helplessly, inquiringly, and with astonishment I looked into his face. My trembling aspect must have touched him, or he thought it was the cold. He took off his warm mantle, folded it round me, and led me slowly back through the gate and little frequented streets to the palace. Helpless, and tottering like a sick child, I followed him, my head, which he carefully concealed, resting on his breast. He was silent, and only sometimes dried the tears from my eyes. Unremarked, as I believed, we reached the door of the palace staircase. He opened it and gently pushed me in. Then he pressed my hand. 'Be good,' he said, 'and quiet. Happiness will come to thee, be sure; and love enough.' And he gently laid his hand upon my head, pulled the door to behind him, and descended the steps. But I leaned against the half-closed door, and could not go away. My feet denied their service; my heart beat. Then I heard a rough voice below addressing him. 'Whom dost thou smuggle at night into the palace, my friend?' it asked. But he answered, 'Is it thou, Hildebrand? Thou wilt not betray her! It was the child Mataswintha; she had strayed into the city in the dark, and feared the anger of her mother.' 'Mataswintha!' said the other. 'She daily becomes more beautiful.' And my protector said----" Mataswintha hesitated, and a vivid flush overspread her cheeks. "Well!" asked Aspa, looking at her with open eyes, "what did he say?" But Mataswintha drew Aspa's small head down upon her bosom. "He said," she whispered--"he said, 'She will become the most beautiful woman on earth.'" "He said truly," cried the little slave; "why shouldst thou become red? It is so. But go on. What didst thou do next?" "I crept up to my bed and wept; wept tears of sorrow, delight, and love, all at once. That night a whole world, a heaven, was opened to me. He liked me, I felt it; and he called me beautiful. Yes, now I knew it. I was beautiful, and I was glad; for I wished to be so for _his_ sake. Oh, how happy was I! Meeting with him had brought light into my darkness, and a blessing to my life. I knew now that I might be liked and loved. I took care of my person, which _he_ had praised. The sweet power in my heart spread a mild warmth over my whole being; I became softer and more earnest. Even my mother's severity relaxed when I met her harshness with gentleness; and daily all hearts were turned to me more kindly, as I became more tender. And for all this I had to thank him. He had saved me from rushing into shame and misery, and had won for me a whole world of love. Since then I have lived, and live, only for him." And she ceased, and laid her hand upon her beating heart. "But, mistress, when did you see or speak to him again? Does your love live on such scanty nourishment?" "I have never spoken to him again, and have only seen him once. On the day of Theodoric's death, he commanded the guards of the palace, and Athalaric told me his name; for I had never dared to inquire about him, lest my flight, and ah! my secret, should be discovered. He was not at court; and if he sometimes came there, I was away." "So thou knowest nothing further of him? of his life; of his past?" "How could I inquire! My blushes would have betrayed me. Love is the child of silence and of longing. But I know all about his--about _our_ future." "About his future?" laughed Aspa. "Yes. At every solstice there used to come to the court an old woman named Radrun, and she received from King Theodoric strange herbs and roots, which he sent for from Asia and the Nile purposely for her. She had asked for this as the sole reward for having foretold his fortune when a boy, and everything had been fulfilled. She brewed potions and mixed salves; they called her in public 'the woman of the woods,' but in private, 'the Wala, the witch.' And we at court knew--all except the priests, who would have forbidden it--that every summer solstice, when she came, the King let her prophesy to him the events of the coming year. And when she left him, I knew that my mother, Theodahad, and Gothelindis, called her and questioned her, and what she foretold always came to pass. So the next solstice I took heart, watched for the old woman, and when I found her alone, enticed her into my room, and offered her gold and shining stones if she would tell me my fortune. But she laughed, and drew forth a little flask made of amber. 'Not for gold, but for blood!' she said, 'the pure blood of a king's child.' And she opened a vein in my left arm, and received the blood into her amber flask. Then she looked at both my hands, and said, 'He whom thou holdest in thy heart will give thee glory and good fortune, will bring thee paralysing pain, will be thy consort, but not thy husband!' And with this she went away." "That is of little comfort as far as I can make it out." "Thou dost not understand the old wife's sayings; they are all so dark. She adds a threat to every promise, so as to be safe in all cases. But I hold fast to the bright and not to the dark side. I know that he will be mine, and give me glory and good fortune; I will bear the accompanying pain. Pain for his sake is delight." "I admire thee and thy faith, mistress. And for the saying of the witch thou hast refused all the kings and princes. Vandals and Ostrogoths, from Gaul and Burgondia, who have ever wooed thee? Even Germanus, the imperial prince of Byzantium? And you wait for him?" "And I wait for him! But not only because of this saying. In my heart lives a little bird, which sings to me every day, 'He will be thine, he must be thine.' I know it for a certainty," she concluded, raising her eyes to the sky, and relapsing into her former reverie. Steps were heard approaching from the villa. "Ah!" cried Aspa, "thy dainty suitor! Poor Arahad! his trouble is in vain." "I will make an end to it," said Mataswintha, rising, and on her brow and in her young eyes there now lay an angry severity, which told of the Amelung blood in her veins. There was a strange mixture of burning passion and melting tenderness in the girl. Aspa had often been astonished by the repressed fire which her mistress sometimes betrayed. "Thou art like the divine mountains of my home," she said, "snow on the summit, roses round the middle, but consuming fire in the interior, which often streams over snow and roses." Meanwhile Earl Arahad turned out of the shady path, and approached the lovely girl with a blush which became him well. "I come, Queen----" he began. But she harshly interrupted him. "I hope, Earl of Asta, that at last thou comest to put an end to this despicable game of force and lies. I will bear it no longer. Thy bold brother surprises me--me, the helpless orphan, lost in sorrow for her mother--in my apartments, calls me in one breath his Queen and his prisoner, and keeps me for weeks in unworthy confinement. He gives me the purple, and deprives me of liberty. Then thou comest and tormentest me with thy vain pursuit, which will never succeed. I refused thee when at liberty. Dost thou believe, thou fool, that, a prisoner in thy power, the child of the Amelungs will listen to thee? Thou swearest that thou lovest me; well, then, respect me! Honour my will and set me free, or tremble when my liberator comes." And she advanced threateningly towards Arahad, who, confused, could find no words with which to answer her. Just then Duke Guntharis hurried up with a hot and angry face. "Up, Arahad!" he cried, "make an end. We must away at once! He approaches; he presses forward with a strong force." "Who?" asked Arahad hastily. "He says he comes to set her free. He has gained a victory--the Peasant-King! He has beaten our outposts at Castrum Sivium." "Who?" now asked Mataswintha eagerly. "Well," cried Guntharis angrily, "thou mayest as well know it; it can be no longer concealed--Earl Witichis of Fæsulæ!" "Witichis!" cried Mataswintha with beaming eyes and a beating heart. "Yes; the rebels at Regeta, forgetting the rights of the nobility, have chosen him King of the Goths." "He! he my King!" said Mataswintha, as if in a dream. "I should have told thee when I greeted thee as Queen, but in thy chamber stood his bust, crowned with laurel. That seemed to me suspicious. I saw it later more closely; it was an accidental resemblance; it was a head of Ares." Mataswintha was silent, and tried to hide the blushes which rose into her cheeks. "Well," cried Arahad, "what is to be done now?" "We must away. We must reach Ravenna before him, Florentia will hinder him for a time. Meanwhile we shall take Ravenna, and when thou hast consummated thy marriage with Mataswintha in the palace of Theodoric, all the people of the Goths will turn to us. Up, Queen! I will order thy carriage to be prepared; in an hour thou wilt go to Ravenna, guarded by my troops." And the brothers hurried away. Mataswintha looked after them with flashing eyes. "Yes! lead me away, bound and a prisoner. Like an eagle from the height my King will swoop upon you, and save me from your cruel clutches. Come, Aspa, the liberator approaches!" CHAPTER IX. Scarcely had the Goths turned their backs upon the walls of Rome, when Pope Silverius--the very day after taking the oath--summoned the heads of the priesthood and nobility, the officials and citizens, to a council in the _Thermæ_ of Caracalla. Cethegus was also invited, and appeared. Without the least embarrassment, Silverius moved that, as at last the hour was come in which to cast off the yoke of the heretics, an embassy should be sent to Belisarius, the commander-in-chief of the orthodox Emperor--the only rightful master of Italy--to deliver up the keys of the Eternal City, and to recommend the Church and the faithful to his protection against the vengeance of the barbarians. The scruples of a very young priest and of an honest smith, on account of their yesterday's oath, he dismissed with a smile, appealing to his Apostolic power to bind and to loose, and pointing to the evident force put upon them while taking the oath, by the presence of Gothic arms. Upon this the motion was carried unanimously, and the Pope himself, Scævola, Albinus, and Cethegus, appointed as ambassadors. But Cethegus put in a protest. He had silently listened to the motion and had not joined in the vote. Now he rose and said: "I am against the motion; not on account of the oath. I need not appeal to the Apostolic power, for I did not swear. But on account of the city. That is, we must not unnecessarily arouse the just anger of the Goths, who may very easily return, and who would not then take the Apostolic dispensation as an excuse for such open perjury. Let Belisarius either beg us or compel us. Who throws himself away is ever trampled on." Silverius and Scævola exchanged significant glances. "Such sentiments," said the jurist, "will doubtless be very pleasing to the Emperor's general, but can alter nothing in our decision. So you will not go with us to Belisarius?" "I will go to Belisarius, but not with you," said Cethegus, and left the place. As the others were leaving the Thermæ, the Pope said to Scævola: "That will finish him! He has declared against the surrender before witnesses!" "And he goes himself into the lion's den!" "He shall not leave it again. You have drawn up the act of accusation?" "Long ago. I feared that he would take the mastery of the city into his own hands, and now he goes himself to Belisarius! That proud man is lost." "Amen," said Silverius. "And so may all fall who in their worldly endeavours oppose the holy Petrus.--The day after to-morrow, at the fourth hour, we will set forth." But the Holy Father erred; the proud man was not yet to fall. Cethegus had hastened immediately to his house, where his Gallic chariot awaited him. "We start at once," he called to the slave who sat on the foremost horse; "I will only fetch my sword." In the vestibule he met the two Licinii, who were watching for him impatiently. "To-day is the day," cried Lucius, "with the prospect of which you have so long comforted us!" "Where is the proof of your trust in our courage, our skill, and our fidelity!" asked Marcus. "Patience!" said Cethegus, lifting his forefinger; and he went into his study. He shortly reappeared, his sword and many papers under his left arm, a sealed roll in his right hand. His eyes flashed. "Is the outermost gate of the Moles Hadriani ready?" he asked. "Ready," answered Lucius Licinius. "Is the grain from Sicily stored in the Capitol?" "All stored." "Are the weapons distributed, and the ramparts of the Capitol completed as I ordered?" "All complete," answered Marcus. "Good. Take this roll. Break the seal as soon as Silverius has left the city, and punctually execute every word therein. It concerns not only my life and yours--but Rome! The city of Cæsar will be witness of your actions. Go. Farewell till we meet again!" And the fire in his eyes kindled an answering fire in the hearts of the young Romans. "You shall be content!" "You and Cæsar!" they said, and hurried away. With a smile that seldom illumined his features with such radiance, Cethegus sprang into his carriage. "Holy Father," he said to himself, "I am still in your debt for that last meeting in the Catacombs. I will repay it well!" "Down the Via Latina!" he cried to the slaves; "and let the horses gallop as hard as they can!" The Prefect had more than a day's start of the embassy. And he used his advantage well. He had, with unchecked energy, thought of a plan by which he would remain master of Rome in spite of the landing of Belisarius. And he set about its execution with all his habitual caution. He had been scarcely able to control his impatience during the journey. At last he reached the outposts of the Byzantines at Capua, where Johannes, the commander, sent his younger brother Perseus and a few horsemen to lead him to the head-quarters. Arrived in the camp, Cethegus did not ask for the commander-in-chief, but caused himself to be conducted at once to the tent of the privy-councillor, Procopius of Cæsarea. Procopius had been his fellow-student in the Schools of Law at Berytus; and the two gifted men had attracted each other greatly. But not the warmth of friendship led the Prefect first of all to this man. Procopius knew the whole political past of Belisarius, and was probably the confidant of his future plans. The privy-councillor greeted the friend of his youth with great pleasure. He was a man of sound commonsense, one of the few men of science of that time, whose capability of healthy feeling and simple apprehension had not been suffocated by the artificial ornaments of Byzantine knowledge in the Schools of Rhetoric. Clear sense was expressed on his open brow, and in his still youthfully bright eyes shone delight in all that was good. When Cethegus had washed off the dust and heat of travel in a carefully-prepared bath, his host, before inviting him to the evening meal in his tent, led him round the camp, and showed him the quarters of the principal divisions, pointing out the most famous generals, and, in a few words, describing their peculiarities, their services, and the often singular contrasts of their past lives. There were the sons of rude Thracia, Constantinus and Bessas, who had worked their way up from the rank of rough hirelings; brave soldiers, but without culture, and filled with the presumption of self-made men. They considered themselves to be the indispensable supports and equally capable successors of Belisarius. There was the aristocratic Iberian Peranius, of the royal family of the Iberians, the hostile neighbours of Persia, who had given up his fatherland and hope of the crown out of hatred to the Persian conqueror, and had taken service in the Emperor's army. Then Valentinus, Magnus, and Innocentius, daring, leaders of the horsemen; Paulus, Demetrius, Ursicinus, the leaders of the foot-soldiers; Ennes, the Isaurian chief and commander of the Isaurians of Belisarius; Aigan and Askan, the leaders of the Massagetæ; Alamundarus and King Abocharabus, the Saracens; Ambazuch and Bleda, the Huns; Arsakes, Amazaspes, and Artabanes, the Armenians (the Arsakide Phaza had been left behind in Neapolis with the rest of the Armenians); Azarethas and Barasmanes, the Persians; and Antallas and Cabaon, the Moors. All these Procopius knew and named, praising sparingly, but expressing his blame with great enjoyment, in biting but witty phrases. They had just turned towards the quarters of Martinus, the peaceful town-burner, on the right, when Cethegus, standing still, asked: "And whose is the silken tent there on the hill, with the golden stars and purple ensign? The guards carry golden shields!" "There," said Procopius, "dwells his Invincible Daintiness, the Upper Purple-Snail Intendant of the Roman Empire, Prince Areobindos, whom may God enlighten!" "The Emperor's nephew, is he not?" "Yes; he married the Emperor's niece, Projecta; his highest and only merit. He was sent here with the Imperial Guard to vex us, and to take care that we do not win too easily. He has been made of equal rank with Belisarius, understands as little of warfare as Belisarius does of purple-snails, and is to be Governor of Italy." "Indeed!" said Cethegus. "When we encamped he insisted upon having his tent placed to the right of Belisarius. But we would not consent. Fortunately God, in His wisdom, had created that hill centuries ago for the solving of our dispute as to rank, and now the Prince is indeed placed to the left, but higher than Belisarius." "And whose are the gay tents yonder, behind the quarters of Belisarius? Who dwells there?" "There?" answered Procopius, with a sigh. "A very unhappy woman; Antonina, the wife of Belisarius." "She unhappy? The celebrated Antonina, the second empress? Why?" "It is not well to speak of that in the open camp. Come with me to my tent, the wine will be sufficiently cooled." CHAPTER X. In the tent they found the handsome cushions of the camp-bed placed round a low bronze table of perforated work, which Cethegus admired. "It is a piece of booty from the wars of the Vandals; I took it with me from Carthage. And these soft cushions once lay upon the bed of the Persian King; I gained them in the battle of Dara." "You are a fine practical scholar!" said Cethegus, smiling. "Are you so changed since the days of Athens?" "I should hope so!" said Procopius, and began carving (for he had dismissed the attendant slaves) the smoking haunch of venison before him. "You must know that I wished to make philosophy my calling, to become a sage. For three years I listened to the Platonists, Stoics, and Academicians at Athens; and studied till I was sick and stupid. And I did not stop at philosophy; according to the praiseworthy custom of our pious century, theology must also be grappled with, and for another year I had to reflect upon the mysteries of the Holy Trinity. Well, with studying so hard, my reason, which was not at all contemptible by nature, threatened to fail me. Fortunately, I became seriously ill, and the physicians forbade me Athens and all books. They sent me to Asia Minor. I only saved a 'Thucydides' from my books, and took it with me in my travelling-bag. And then 'Thucydides' saved me. In the tedium of the journey I read and re-read his splendid history of the deeds of the Hellenes in war and peace; and now I found with astonishment that the acts and manners of men, their passions, their vices and virtues, were really much more attractive and remarkable than all forms and figures of heathen logic--not to speak of Christian logic. I arrived at Ephesus, and was one day strolling through the streets, when my mind suddenly became wonderfully enlightened. I was walking across a great place; there stood before me a church of the Holy Spirit; it was built upon the ruins of the old Temple of Diana. On the left stood a ruined altar of Isis, and on the right the praying-house of the Jews. Then the thought flashed across me: Each one of these believed, and believed firmly, that he alone knew the truth about the highest Being. And yet that is impossible; the highest Being has, it seems to me, no need of being known by us--neither should I, in His place--and He has created mankind, that they may live, act rightly and strive honestly here on earth. And this living, acting, enjoying and striving is really all that concerns us. If any one will search and think, he should search the lives and acts of men. As I stood so thinking, all at once I heard the flourish of trumpets. A brilliant troop of horsemen came trotting up; at their head a splendid man on a bay horse, beautiful and strong as the God of War. Their weapons glittered, the flags waved, and the horses pranced. And I thought: These know wherefore they live, and do not need to inquire of a philosopher! And while I was admiring the horsemen, a citizen of Ephesus clapped me on the shoulder and said: 'You seem not to know who that was, nor whither these men are bent? That is the hero Belisarius, who is off for the wars in Persia!' 'Good, friend!' I said, 'then I will go with him!' And so I did, the very same hour. And Belisarius soon appointed me his privy-councillor and secretary. Since then I have a double calling; by day I make, or help to make, history, and by night I write it." "And which is your best work?" "Alas! friend, the writing! And the writing would be better if the history were better. For generally I do not at all approve of what we do, and I only help to do it because it is better than doing nothing, or putting up with philosophy. Bring the 'Tacitus,' slave," he called out of the opening of the tent. "The 'Tacitus?'" asked Cethegus. "Yes, friend, we have drunk enough of the 'Livius.' You must know that I name my wines according to their historical character. For example, to return to what I was saying, this piece of history which we are about just now, this Gothic war, is quite against my taste. Narses is right, we ought first to repel the Persians before we attack the Goths." "Narses! What is my wise friend doing?" "He envies Belisarius, and will not confess it even to himself. Besides that, he makes plans of wars and battles. I will bet that he had already conquered Italy before we had even landed." "You are not his friend. Yet he is a man of genius. Why do you prefer Belisarius?" "I will tell you," said Procopius, pouring out the "Tacitus," "It is my misfortune that I was not the historian of Alexander or Scipio. Since I recovered from philosophy and theology, my whole nature has longed for men, for real men of flesh and blood. So these spindle-shanked emperors and bishops and generals, who subtilise everything with their reason, disgust me. We have become a crippled generation; the hero time lies far behind us! Only honest Belisarius is a hero like those of the olden time. He might have encamped with Agamemnon before Troy! He is not stupid; he has good sense; but only the natural sense of a noble wild animal for its prey, for his vocation. Belisarius's vocation is heroism! And I delight in his broad chest and his flashing eyes and mighty thighs with which he masters the strongest stallion. And I am glad when, sometimes, his blind delight in blows upsets all his fine plans. I love to see him rush amongst the enemy and fight like an infuriated boar. But I dare not tell him so; for then all would be over; in three days he would be cut to pieces. On the contrary, I keep him back. I am his 'reason,' as he calls me. And he puts up with my prudence because he knows that it is not cowardice. More than once I have been obliged to save him from a difficulty into which the frowardness of his heroism had brought him! The most amusing of these stories is that of the horn and tuba." "Which of the two do you blow, O my Procopius?" "Neither; only the trumpet of fame and the pipe of mockery!" "But what about the horn and trumpet?" "Oh, we were lying before a rocky nest in Persia, which we were obliged to take, because it commanded the high-road. But we had already, many times, damaged our heroic heads against its hard walls; and my master, becoming angry, swore 'by the slumber of Justinian'--that is his biggest oath--that he would never blow the signal of retreat before this Castle of Anglon. Now our outposts were very often surprised by sallies from the fortress; we, in the highly-situated camp, could see the assaulters as they issued from the fortress, but our outposts, lying at the foot of the hill, could not. I now advised that we should give our people the signal of retreat from the camp whenever we saw the danger approaching. But I met with a fine reception! The slumber of Justinian was such a sacred thing that no one dare meddle with an oath sworn by it. And so our poor fellows were obliged to let themselves be taken unawares by the Persians, until I hit upon the ingenious expedient of proposing to my master that we should give the signal of retreat to our men not with the trumpet but with the horn. The idea pleased my honest Belisarius. And so when we merrily blew the horn to the attack, our men ran away like frightened hares. It was enough to make one die with laughing to see those belligerent sounds produce such a despicable effect! But it availed. Justinian's slumber and Belisarius's oath remained intact, our outposts were no more butchered, and at last the rocky fortress fell. Thus I always scold and laugh at Belisarius for his heroic acts, but in reality my heart is warmed and gladdened: he is the last hero." "Well," observed Cethegus, "amongst the Goths you will find many such sturdy fellows." Procopius nodded reflectively: "Can't deny that I have great pleasure in these Goths. But they are too stupid." "How? Why?" "They are stupid because, instead of pressing upon us slowly, step by step, in union with their yellow-haired brethren (they would be irresistible!) they have planted themselves singly in the midst of Italy, without right or reason, like a piece of wood in the centre of a glimmering hearth. They will be ruined by this; they will be burnt, you will see!" "I hope to see it. And what then?" asked Cethegus quietly. "Yes," answered Procopius peevishly, "what then? That is the vexation. Then Belisarius will be Governor of Italy--for it will not last a year with the purple Prince--and he will wear away his fine strength here in idleness, when there is work enough to do in Persia. And then, as his court-historian, I shall only have to write down how many skins of wine we empty yearly." "So you would like, when the Goths are done with, to have Belisarius out of Italy?" "Certainly. In the Persian land bloom his and my laurels. I have thought already of many a plan to get him away from here." Cethegus was silent. He was glad to have found such an important ally for his plans. At last he said: "And so his 'reason' Procopius, rules the lion Belisarius?" "No," sighed Procopius; "rather his _un_reason, his wife!" "Antonina! Tell me, why did you call her unhappy?" "Because she is half-hearted and a contradiction. Nature intended her for a good and faithful wife; and Belisarius loves her with all his heroic heart. But she came to the court of the Empress. Theodora, the beautiful she-devil, is intended by nature as much for vice as is Antonina for virtue. The circus-girl has certainly never felt the sting of conscience. But I believe she cannot endure to have an honest woman near her, because an honest woman would despise her. She did not rest until she had succeeded in arousing Antonina's coquetry by her hellish example. Now Antonina suffers tortures of remorse on account of her dalliance with her adorers; for she loves, she worships her husband." "And yet? How is it possible that a hero like Belisarius cannot content her?" "Just because he is a hero. He does not flatter her, with all his love. She could not bear to see the Empress's lovers exhaust themselves in verses, flowers, and gifts, and to live herself without such homage. Vanity was her snare. But she does not feel at all at ease amidst her trifling." "And has Belisarius any suspicion?" "Not a shadow. He is the only one in all the Roman Empire who does not know what most concerns him. I believe it would be his death. For this reason alone he must not remain here in peace, as Governor of Italy. In the camp, in the tumult of battle, flatterers are wanting to the coquettish woman and also the leisure to listen to them. For, as if in voluntary atonement for the sweet crimes of secret verses and flowers--she is certainly incapable of greater guilt--Antonina outdoes all other women in the severe performance of her duty. She is Belisarius's friend, his co-commander; she shares with him the difficulties and dangers of sea, desert, and battle. She works with him day and night, if she does not happen to be reading the verses of others on her lovely eyes! She has often saved him from the snares of his enemies at the court of Byzantium. In short, she is only good during war-time and in the camp, there, where also his greatness can alone flourish." "Well," said Cethegus, "now I know well enough how things stand here. Let me speak plainly with you. You would like to have Belisarius out of Italy immediately after his victory: so would I. You for Belisarius's sake, I for that of Italy's. You know that I was always a Republican----" At this Procopius pushed his cup to one side and looked significantly at Cethegus. "All young people are so between the ages of fourteen and twenty-one," said he. "But that you are still so--I find--very--very--unhistorical. Out of these Italian vagabonds, our very amiable allies against the Goths, you will make citizens of a republic? They are good for nothing but a tyrant!" "I will not dispute about that," answered Cethegus with a smile; "only I should like to preserve my fatherland from _your_ tyrant." "I don't blame you for it," said Procopius, smiling also; "the blessings of our rule are--stifling." "A native governor under the protection of Byzantium will suffice at first." "To be sure. And his name would be--Cethegus!" "If it must be so--that too." "Listen," said Procopius earnestly, "I would only advise you against _one_ thing. The air of Rome engenders proud plans. There, as master of Rome, a man is not willing to be only the second in the world. And believe the historian--nothing more can come of the universal Empire of Rome." Cethegus felt annoyed. He thought of King Theodoric's warning. "Historicus of Byzantium, I know my Roman affairs better than you. First let me initiate you into our Roman secrets; then, early to-morrow, before the embassy arrives from Rome, procure me an interview with Belisarius, and--be sure of a great success." And he now began to unfold to the astonished Procopius, in rapid outlines, the secret history of the latest times and his plans for the future, wisely veiling his ultimate aim. "By the manes of Romulus!" cried Procopius, when he had finished, "you still make history on the Tiber. Well, here is my hand. You shall have my assistance. Belisarius shall win, but not rule in Italy. Let us empty a flask of dry 'Sallustius' upon it!" Early the next day Procopius brought about an interview with Belisarius, from which his friend returned well contented. "Have you told him everything?" asked the historian. "Not quite everything," said Cethegus with a sly smile; "one must always keep something to say in reserve." CHAPTER XI. Shortly afterwards the whole camp was full of strange excitement. The report of the approach of the Holy Father, which outsped his gilded litter, aroused thousands of soldiers, attracted by feelings of reverence, piety, superstition, or curiosity, from sleep, feasting, or gaming. The captains could scarcely keep the sentries at their posts or the soldiers at their drill. The faithful had hurried to meet the Pope from places miles distant, and now, mixed with groups of country people from the neighbourhood, accompanied the procession into the camp. The peasants and soldiers had already harnessed themselves to the litter instead of the mules which drew it--in vain had the Pope modestly remonstrated--and shouting in exultation: "Hail to the Bishop of Rome, hail to the holy Petros!" the crowd, upon whom Silverius continually bestowed blessings, entered the camp. No one noticed his two colleagues, Scævola and Albinus. Belisarius gravely observed the imposing spectacle from his tent. "The Prefect is right!" he cried; "this priest is more dangerous than the Goths! Procopius, dismiss the Byzantine body-guard at my tent, as soon as the interview begins. Let the Huns and the heathen Gepidæ take their place." So saying, he re-entered his tent, where, surrounded by his generals, he shortly afterwards received the Roman embassy. Procopius had convinced Prince Areobindos of the necessity of leaving the camp on an expedition of reconnaissance, an office which could only be performed by him, and which could not be put off. Surrounded by a brilliant train of clergy, the Pope approached the tent of the commander-in-chief. Great crowds of people pressed after him; but as soon as he, with Scævola and Albinus, had entered the narrow passage between the tents which led up to that of Belisarius, the guards stopped the way with their levelled lances, and would allow neither priest nor soldier to follow. Silverius turned with a smile to the captain of the guard, and preached him a fine sermon on the text, "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not." But the German shook his shaggy locks and turned his back. The Gepidian did not understand a word of Latin beyond the words of command. Silverius smiled again, once more blessed the crowd, and then walked quietly to the tent. Belisarius was seated upon a camp-stool, over which was spread a lion's skin; on his right hand sat Antonina, enthroned on a seat covered with the skin of a leopard. Her troubled soul had hoped to find a physician and comforter in the holy Petrus; but she shrank when she saw the worldly expression on the features of Silverius. As the Pope entered, Belisarius rose. Silverius, without the slightest inclination, went straight up to him, and laid both hands--he was obliged to stretch his arms uncomfortably to do so--as if in blessing, on his shoulders. He wished to press Belisarius gently down upon his knees; but the general stood as stiffly erect as an oak, and Silverius was obliged to complete his benediction. "You come as ambassadors from the Romans?" began Belisarius. "I come," interrupted Silverius, "in the name of St. Peter, as Bishop of Rome, to deliver to you and the Emperor the city of Rome. These good people," he added, pointing to Scævola and Albinus, "have attached themselves to me as the members to the head." Scævola was about to interfere indignantly--he had not thus understood his relation to the Church--but Belisarius signed to him to be silent. "And," continued Silverius, "I welcome you to Italy and Rome in the name of the Lord. Enter the walls of the Eternal City for the protection of the Church and the faithful against the heretics! There exalt the name of the Lord and the Cross of Christ, and never forget that your path thither was smoothed by Holy Church. God chose me for His minister, to lull the Goths into blind security, and lead them out of the city. It was I who won over the wavering citizens to your cause, and frustrated the designs of your enemies. It is St. Peter who, by my hand, delivers up to you the keys of his city, and entrusts it to your protection. Never forget my words!" With this he handed to Belisarius the keys of the Asinarian Gate. "I will never forget them," said Belisarius, and signed to Procopius, who took the keys from the hand of the Pope. "You spoke of the designs of my enemies. Has the Emperor enemies in Rome?" Silverius answered, with a sigh: "Cease to question me, general. Their nets are torn; they are now harmless, and it does not become the Church to inculpate, but to _ex_culpate." "It is your duty, Holy Father, to discover to the orthodox Emperor the traitors who hide themselves amongst his Roman subjects, and I call upon you to unmask his enemies." Silverius sighed. "The Church does not thirst for blood." "But she may not prevent justice," said Scævola. And the jurist stepped forward, and handed a roll of parchment to Belisarius, saying, "I accuse Cornelius Cethegus Cæsarius, the Prefect of Rome, of treachery and rebellion against Emperor Justinian. He has called the Emperor's government a tyranny; he opposed the landing of the imperial army with all his might; finally, a few days ago he, and he alone, voted that we should not open to you the gates of Rome." "And what punishment do you propose?" asked Belisarius, looking at the roll. "Death, according to the law," said Scævola. "And his estates," added Albinus, "are lawfully forfeited, partly to the fiscus, partly to his accusers." "And may his soul be recommended to the mercy of God!" concluded the Bishop of Rome. "Where is the accused?" asked Belisarius. "He intended to come to you; but I fear that his bad conscience will prevent him from fulfilling his intention." "You err. Bishop of Rome," said Belisarius; "he is already here." At these words a curtain in the background of the tent dropped, and before his astonished accusers stood Cethegus the Prefect. They could not conceal their surprise. With a look of contempt, Cethegus silently advanced until he stood at Belisarius's right hand. "Cethegus sought me earlier than you," said the commander-in-chief, after a pause, "and he has been beforehand with you also--in accusations. You stand before me gravely accused, Silverius. Defend yourself before you attack others." "I defend myself!" cried the Pope. "Who can be accuser or judge of the successor of St. Peter?" "The judge am I; in the place of your master, the Emperor." "And the accuser?" asked Silverius. Cethegus half turned to Belisarius, and said: "I am the accuser! I accuse Silverius, the Bishop of Rome, of the crime of lese-majesty and treachery to the Roman Empire. I will at once prove my accusation. Silverius intends to wrest the government of the city of Rome and a great part of Italy from the Emperor Justinian, and, ridiculous to say, to form a State of the Church in the fatherland of the Cæsars. And he has already taken the first step in the execution of this--shall I say madness or crime? Here is a contract with his signature, which he concluded with Theodahad, the last of the barbarian princes. Thereby the King sells, for the sum of one thousand pounds' weight of gold, the government of the city and district of Rome, and of thirty miles of country round, in case of Silverius becoming Bishop of Rome, to St. Peter and his successors. All the prerogatives of royalty are enumerated--jurisdiction, legislation, administration, customs, taxes, and even military power. According to the date, this document is three months old. Therefore, at the very moment that the pious archdeacon, behind Theodahad's back, was summoning the Emperor's army, he also, behind the Emperor's back, signed a contract which would rob the latter of all the fruits of his efforts, and insure the Pope under all circumstances. I leave it to the representative of the Emperor to decide in what manner such wisdom should be appreciated. By the chosen of the Lord the morals of the serpent are looked upon as high wisdom; amongst us laymen such acts are----" "The most shameful treachery!" thundered Belisarius, as he sprang from his seat and took the document from the Prefect. "Look here, priest, your name! Can you deny it?" The impression made upon all present by this accusation and proof was overpowering. Suspicion and indignation, mixed with eager expectation of the Pope's defence, was written upon each man's countenance; and Scævola, the short-sighted republican, was the most taken by surprise at this revelation of the ambitious plan of his dangerous colleague. He hoped that Silverius would victoriously refute the calumny. The position of the Pope was indeed highly dangerous; the accusation appeared to be undeniable, and the angry countenance of Belisarius would have intimidated many a bolder heart. But Silverius showed that he wag no unworthy adversary of the Prefect and the hero of Byzantium. He had not lost his presence of mind for a moment; only when Cethegus had taken the document from the folds of his dress, had he closed his eyes as if in pain. But he met the thundering voice and flashing eyes of Belisarius with a composed and steady countenance. He felt that he must now fight for the ideal of his life, and this feeling nerved him; not a muscle of his face twitched. "How long will you keep me waiting?" asked Belisarius angrily. "Until you are capable and worthy of listening to me. You are possessed by Urchitophel, the demon of anger." "Speak! Defend yourself!" cried Belisarius, reseating himself. "The accusation of this godless man," began Silverius, "only asserts, sooner than I had intended, a right of the Holy Church, which I did not wish to insist upon during these unquiet times. It is true that I concluded this contract with the barbarian King." A movement of indignation escaped the Byzantines present. "Not from love of worldly power, not to acquire any new privileges, did I treat with the King of the Goths, at that time master of this country. No! the saints be my witness! I did it merely because it was my duty to prevent the lapse of an ancient right of the Church." "An ancient right?" asked Belisarius impatiently. "An ancient right!" repeated Silverius, "which the Church has neglected to assert until now. Her enemies oblige her to declare it at this moment. Know then, representative of the Emperor! hear it, generals and soldiers! that which the Church demanded of Theodahad has been her right for two centuries; the Goth only confirmed it. In the same place whence the Prefect, with sacrilegious hand, took this document, he might also have found that which originally established our right. The pious Emperor Constantinus--who, first of all the predecessors of Justinian, received the teaching of the Gospel--moved by the prayers of his blessed mother, Helena, and after having trampled his enemies under foot by the help of the saints, and particularly by that of St. Peter, did, in thankful acknowledgment of such help, and to prove to all the world that crown and sword should bow before the Cross of Christ, bestow the city of Rome and its district, with all the neighbouring towns and their boundaries, with jurisdiction and police, taxes and duties, and all the royal prerogatives of earthly government, upon St. Peter and his successors for all time, so that his Church might have a secular foundation for the furtherance of her secular tasks. This donation is conferred in all form by a legal document; the curse of Gehenna is laid upon all who dispute it. And I ask the Emperor Justinian, in the name of the Trinity, whether he will acknowledge this legal act of his predecessor, the blessed Emperor Constantinus, or if, in worldly avarice, he will overthrow it, and thereby call down upon his head the curse of Gehenna and eternal damnation?" This speech of the Bishop of Rome, spoken with all the power of ecclesiastical dignity and all the art of worldly rhetoric, was of irresistible effect. Belisarius, Procopius, and the generals, who, a moment before, would willingly have passed an angry judgment upon the treacherous priest, now felt as if they themselves were judged. The heart of Italy seemed to be irrecoverably lost to the Emperor, and delivered into the power of the Church. An anxious silence overcame the lately so masterful Byzantines, and the priest stood triumphantly as victor in their midst. At last Belisarius, who wished to avoid a dispute and the shame of defeat, said: "Prefect of Rome, what have you to reply?" With a scarcely visible quiver of mockery upon his fine lips, Cethegus bowed and began: "The accused refers to a document. I believe I could embarrass him greatly if I denied its existence, and demanded the immediate production of the original. However, I will not meet the man who calls himself the head of Christendom, with the wiles of a spiteful advocate. I admit that the document exists." Belisarius made a movement of helpless vexation. "Still more! I have saved the Holy Father the trouble of producing it, which would have been very difficult for him to do, and have brought the document itself with my own sacrilegious hands." He drew forth a yellow old parchment from his bosom, and looked smilingly now at the lines thereon, now at the Pope, and now at Belisarius, evidently enjoying their suspense. "Yes, still more! I have examined the document for many days with hostile eyes, and, with the help of still greater jurists than I can boast of being--such as my young friend, Salvius Julianus--have tried to invalidate every letter. In vain. Even the penetration of my learned and honourable friend, Scævola, could have found no flaw. All legal forms, all the clauses in the act of donation, are sharply defined with indisputable accuracy; and indeed I should like to have been acquainted with the protonotary of Emperor Constantinus, for he must have been a jurist of the first rank." He paused--his eyes rested sarcastically upon the countenance of Silverius, who wiped the sweat off his brow. "Therefore," asked Belisarius, in great excitement, "the document is formally quite correct, and can be proved?" "Yes, certainly," sighed Cethegus, "the act of donation is faultlessly drawn up. It is only a pity that----" "Well!" interrupted Belisarius. "It is only a pity that it is false." A general cry arose. Belisarius and Antonina sprang from their seats; all present pressed nearer to Cethegus. Silverius alone fell back a step. "False!" cried Belisarius in a tone that sounded like a shout of joy. "Prefect--friend--can you prove that?" "I should otherwise have taken care not to assert it. The parchment upon which the act of donation is written shows all the signs of great age: worm-eaten, cracked, spots of every kind--everything that one can expect from such an ancient document, so that, sometimes, it is difficult to decipher the letters. Notwithstanding, the document only _appears_ to be old; with as much art as many women employ to give themselves the appearance of youth does it ape the sanctity of great age. It is real parchment from the old and still existing parchment manufactory at Byzantium, founded by Constantinus." "Keep to the matter!" cried Belisarius. "But it is not known to every one--and it appears, unfortunately for him, to have escaped the notice of the Bishop--that these parchments, on the lower edge to the left, are always marked with the stamp of the year of their manufacture, by the names of the then consuls, in, certainly, almost invisible characters. Now pay attention, general. The document pretends, as it says in the text, to have been prepared in the sixteenth year of the reign of Constantinus, the same year that he closed the heathen temples, as the pious document observes, and a year after the naming of Constantinopolis as the capital city; and it rightly names the right consuls of that year, Dalmatius and Xenophilos. Now it can only be explained by a miracle--but in this case it would be a miracle _against_ the Church--that, in that year, therefore in the year three hundred and thirty-five after the birth of Christ, it was already known who would be consul in the year after the death of Emperor Justinus and King Theodoric; for look, here on the lower edge the stamp says--the writer had not noticed it--it is really very difficult to make out, unless one holds the parchment against the lights so--do you see, Belisarius?--and had blindly painted the cross upon it; but I, with my--what did he call it?--sacrilegious, but clever, hand have wiped it off; do you see? there stand stamped the words, 'VI. Indiction: Justinianus Augustus, sole consul in the first year of his reign.'" Silverius staggered, and was obliged to support himself by the chair which had been placed for him. "The parchment of the document," continued Cethegus, "upon which the protonotary of Emperor Constantinus had written down the act of donation two hundred years ago, has therefore been taken from the ribs of an ass only a year ago at Byzantium! Confess, O general, that the reign of the conceivable ends here and the supernatural begins; that here a miracle has happened; and revere the mysterious ways of Heaven." He gave the document to Belisarius. "This is also a famous piece of history, holy and profane, which we are now experiencing," said Procopius aside. "It is so, by the slumber of Justinian!" cried Belisarius. "Bishop of Rome, what have you to say?" Silverius had with difficulty composed himself. He saw the edifice which he had been constructing his whole life, sink into the ground before him. With a voice half choked by despair, he answered: "I found the document in the archives of the Church a few months ago. If it is as you say, I have been deceived as well as you." "But we are not deceived," said Cethegus, smiling. "I knew nothing of that stamp, I swear it by the wounds of Christ!" "I believe it without an oath. Holy Father," interposed Cethegus. "You will acknowledge, priest," said Belisarius, "that the strictest examination into this affair----" "I demand it as my right," cried Silverius. "You shall have it, doubt it not! But I will not venture to judge in this case. Only the wisdom of Emperor Justinian himself can here decide upon what is right. Vulkaris, my faithful Herulian! I herewith deliver into your keeping the person of the Bishop of Some. You will at once take him on board a vessel, and conduct him to Byzantium!" "I put in a protest!" cried Silverius. "No one on earth can try me but a council of the orthodox Church. I demand to be taken to Rome." "Rome you will never see again. And Emperor Justinian, who is justice itself, will decide upon your protest with Trebonianus. But I think your companions, Scævola and Albinus, the false accusers of the Prefect (who has proved himself to be the best and warmest friend of the Emperor), highly suspicious. Let Justinian decide how far they are innocent. Take them too, Vulkaris, take them in chains to Byzantium. By sea. Now take them out by the back door of the tent, not through the camp. Vulkaris, this priest is the Emperor's _worst_ enemy. You will answer for him with your head!" "I will answer for him," said the gigantic Herulian, coming forward and laying his mailed hand upon the Bishop's shoulder.--"Away with you, priest! On board! He shall die, ere I will let him escape." Silverius saw that further resistance would only excite compulsion dangerous to his dignity. He submitted, and walked beside the German, who did not withdraw his hand, towards the door in the back of the tent, which was opened by a sentry. The Bishop was obliged to pass close to Cethegus. He lowered his head and did not look at him, but he heard a voice whisper: "Silverius, this moment repays me for your victory in the Catacombs. Now we are quits!" CHAPTER XII. As soon as the Bishop had left the tent, Belisarius rose eagerly from his seat, hurried to the Prefect, and embraced him. "Accept my thanks, Cethegus Cæsarius! Your reward will not be wanting. I will tell the Emperor that for him you have to-day saved Rome." But Cethegus smiled. "My acts reward themselves." The intellectual struggle, the rapid alternation of anger, fear, anxiety, and triumph had exhausted the hero Belisarius more than half a day of battle. He longed for rest and refreshment, and dismissed his generals, none of whom left the tent without speaking a word of acknowledgment to the Prefect. The latter saw that his superiority was felt by all, even by Belisarius. It pleased him that, in one and the same hour, he had ruined the scheming Bishop and humbled the proud Byzantines. But he did not idly revel in the feeling of victory. He knew the danger of sleeping upon laurels; laurel stupefies. He decided to follow up his victory, to use at once the intellectual superiority over the hero of Byzantium which he undoubtedly possessed at this moment, and to strike his long-prepared and principal blow. As, full of this thought, he was looking after the generals who were just leaving the tent, he did not notice that two eyes were fixed upon him with a peculiar expression. They were the eyes of Antonina. The incidents which she had just witnessed had produced a strangely mixed impression on her mind. For the first time in her life she had seen her idol, her husband, entangled in the nets of a priest without the least power to extricate or help himself, and saved only by the superior strength of this terrible Roman. At first the shock to her pride in her husband had filled her with dislike of the victor. But this feeling did not last, and involuntarily, as the great superiority of Cethegus unfolded itself before her, admiration took the place of vexation. She felt only one thing: Belisarius had eclipsed the Church, and Cethegus had eclipsed Belisarius. To this feeling was added the anxious desire that this man might never become the enemy, but always remain the ally of her husband. In short, Cethegus had made a serious intellectual conquest of the wife of Belisarius; and not only that, but he was at once made aware of it. The beautiful and usually so confident woman came towards him with downcast eyes. He looked up; she blushed violently and offered him a trembling hand. "Prefect of Rome," she said, "Antonina thanks you. You have rendered great services to Belisarius and the Emperor. We will be good friends." Procopius, who had remained in the tent, beheld this proceeding with astonishment. "My Odysseus out-charms the sorceress Circe," he thought. But Cethegus saw in a moment that the soul of Antonina humbled itself before him, and what power he thus gained over Belisarius. "Beautiful _magistra militum_," he said, drawing himself up, "your friendship is the proudest laurel in my wreath of victory. I will at once put it to the proof. I beg you and Procopius to be my witnesses, my allies, in the conversation which I must now hold with Belisarius." "Now?" asked Belisarius impatiently. "Come, let us first to table, and celebrate the fall of the priest in fiery Cæcubian." And he walked towards the door. But Cethegus remained quietly standing in the middle of the tent, and Antonina and Procopius were so completely under his influence, that they did not dare to follow their master. Even Belisarius turned and asked: "Must it absolutely take place now?" "It must," said Cethegus, and he took Antonina's hand and led her back to her seat. Then Belisarius also retraced his steps. "Well," he said, "speak; but briefly. As briefly as possible." "I have ever found," began Cethegus, "that with great friends or great enemies, sincerity is the strongest bond and the best weapon. According to this maxim I will act. When I said my acts reward themselves, I wished to express thereby that I did not wrest the mastery of Rome from the false priest exactly for the sake of the Emperor." Belisarius grew attentive. Procopius, alarmed at the too bold sincerity of his friend, made a sign of warning. Antonina's quick eye remarked it, and she started; the intelligence between the two men aroused her suspicion. This did not escape Cethegus. "No, Procopius," he said, to the astonishment of Belisarius; "our friends here will far too soon acknowledge that Cethegus is not a man whose ambition can be satisfied by a smile from Justinian. I have not saved Rome for the Emperor." "For whom else!" asked Belisarius gravely. "First for Rome herself. I am a Roman. I love my Eternal City. She shall not become the servant of the priests, but also not the slave of the Emperor. I am a republican," he said, tossing his head defiantly. A smile passed across the countenance of Belisarius; the Prefect seemed to him of less importance than before. Procopius, shrugging his shoulders, said: "Incomprehensible!" But this candour pleased Antonina. "I certainly saw," continued Cethegus, "that we could only beat the barbarians by the sword of Belisarius. And also, alas! that the time is not ripe to realise my dreams of republican freedom. The Romans must first again become Catos; this generation must die out; and I acknowledge that, meantime, Rome can only find protection against the barbarians under the shield of Justinian. Therefore we will bow to this shield--for the present." "Not bad!" thought Procopius; "the Emperor is to protect them until they are strong enough to run away from him, in proof of gratitude." "These are but dreams, my Prefect," said Belisarius compassionately. "What practical results can they have?" "These: that Rome shall not be delivered up to the caprice of the Emperor with bound hands and without conditions. Belisarius is not the only servant of Justinian. Only think, if the heartless Narses were to become your successor!" The hero frowned. "Therefore I will tell you the conditions under which the city of Cæsar will open her gates to you and your army." But this was too much for Belisarius. He sprang up in a rage; his face glowed; his eyes flashed. "Prefect of Rome," he cried in his loudest voice, "you forget yourself and your position! To-morrow I start with my army of seventy thousand men for Rome. Who will hinder me from entering the city without conditions?" "I," said Cethegus quietly. "No, Belisarius, I do not rave. Look at this plan of the city and its fortifications. Your experienced eye will recognise its strength better and more quickly than mine." He drew forth a parchment and spread it open upon the table. Belisarius cast an indifferent look at it, but immediately cried out: "The plan is incorrect! Procopius, give me our plan out of that casket.--Look here, those moats are now filled up; those towers are ruined; the wall here is broken down, those gates defenceless.--Your plan represents them as of terrible strength. It is obsolete, Prefect of Rome!" "No, Belisarius, _yours_ is obsolete. These walls, moats, and gates are reconstructed." "Since when?" "A year ago." "By whom?" "By me." Belisarius looked at the plan in perplexity. Antonina's eyes rested anxiously on the features of her husband. "Prefect," he said at last, "if this be so, you understand warfare well--the warfare of fortresses. But to wage war there must be an army, and your empty walls will not arrest my progress." "You will not find them empty. You must acknowledge that a force of more than twenty thousand men is capable of holding Rome--namely, this my Rome upon the plan--for days and years, even against Belisarius. Good. Then, know that these fortifications are held by thirty-five thousand armed men." "Have the Goths returned?" asked Belisarius. Procopius drew nearer, astonished. "No; these thirty-five thousand men are under my command. For some years I have recalled the long enervated Romans to arms, and have unceasingly practised them in the use of their weapons. So at present I have thirty cohorts ready for battle, each consisting of almost a thousand men." Belisarius struggled to repress his vexation, and shrugged his shoulders contemptuously. "I acknowledge," continued Cethegus, "that these troops could not oppose the army of Belisarius in the open field. But I assure you that they will fight famously behind these walls. Besides that, I have, out of my private means, enrolled seven thousand picked Isaurian and Abasgian mercenaries, and have brought them, gradually and unobserved, in small divisions to Ostia, Rome, and the neighbourhood. You doubt it? Here are the lists of the thirty cohorts, and the contract with the Isaurians. You now see distinctly how matters stand. Either you accept my conditions--and then these thirty-five thousands are yours: yours is Rome, my Rome, this Rome on the plan, of which you say that it is of fearful strength, and yours is Cethegus--or you refuse my conditions.--Then your victorious march, whose success depends on the rapidity of your movements, is arrested. You will be obliged to besiege Rome for many months. The Goths will have plenty of time to re-collect their forces. We ourselves will call them back. They will come to relieve the city in threefold superiority, and nothing can save you from destruction but a miracle!" "Or your death at this moment! thou devil!" thundered Belisarius, and, no longer master of himself, he drew his sword. "Up, Procopius, in the Emperor's name! Take the traitor! He dies in this hour!" Horrified and undecided, Procopius rushed between the two men, while Antonina caught her husband's arm, and tried to take his right hand. "Are you his allies!" cried Belisarius furiously. "Guards! guards! here!" From each of the two doors two lancers entered the tent. But Belisarius had already torn himself from Antonina's hold, and had hurled Procopius to one side as if he were a child. Raising his sword, he rushed at the Prefect. But he suddenly stopped short and lowered his weapon, the point of which already touched the breast of Cethegus; for, immovable, like a statue, without the least change of countenance, and fixing his cold eyes penetratingly upon his furious assailer, Cethegus had remained standing, a smile of unspeakable contempt upon his lips. "What means this look and smile?" asked Belisarius. Procopius quietly signed to the guards to leave the tent. "Pity for your reputation, which a moment of rage might destroy for ever. If you had killed me, you would have been lost!" "I!" laughed Belisarius; "I should think _you_ would have been lost." "And you with me. Do you believe that I put my head into the lion's mouth like a fool? It was not difficult to foresee that a hero of your sort would first of all try to put an end to his embarrassment with his sword. Against this I have protected myself. Know that since this morning, in consequence of a sealed order which I left behind me, Rome is in the hands of my blindly-devoted friends. The Mausoleum of Hadrian, the Capitol, and all the gates and towers of the ramparts, are garrisoned by Isaurians and legionaries. I left the order with my war-tribunes, who are youths fearless of death, in case of your reaching Rome before me." He handed a roll of papyrus to Procopius. Procopius read: "To Lucius and Marcus, the Licinii, Cethegus the Prefect. I have fallen a victim to the tyranny of the Byzantines. Revenge me! Recall the Goths at once. I demand it of you by your oath. Better the barbarians than the police of Justinian. Hold out to the last man! Rather give the city to the flames than to the army of the tyrant!'" "So you see," continued Cethegus, "that my death will not open to you the gates of Rome, but shut them upon you for ever. You must besiege the city, or agree with me." Belisarius cast a look of anger, not unmixed with admiration, at the bold man who put conditions to him in the midst of his thousands. Then he sheathed his sword, threw himself impatiently upon his stool, and asked: "What are your conditions for the surrender?" "Only two. First, you will give me the command of a small part of your army. I must be no stranger to your Byzantines." "Granted. You will have under your command two thousand Illyrian footmen and one thousand Saracen and Moorish horsemen. Is that sufficient?" "Perfectly. Secondly, my independence rests entirely upon my dominion of Rome. This must not cease during your presence. Therefore, the whole right shore of the Tiber, with the Mausoleum of Hadrian; and on the left the Capitol, including the walls on the south as far as the Gate of St. Peter, must remain, until the end of the war, in the hands of my Romans and Isaurians. The rest of the city on the left shore of the Tiber, from the Flavian Amphitheatre in the north to the Appian Gate in the south, will be occupied by you." Belisarius cast a glance at the plan. "Not badly arranged! From those points you can at any moment drive me out of the city or blockade the river. That will not do!" "Then prepare for a fight with the Goths and Cethegus together before the walls of Rome!" Belisarius sprang from his seat. "Go! leave me alone with Procopius, Cethegus. Wait for my decision." "Till to-morrow!" cried Cethegus. "At sunrise I return to Rome, either with your army or--alone." A few days later Belisarius, with his army, entered the Eternal City through the Asinarian Gate. Endless acclamation greeted the liberator; a rain of flowers covered him and his wife, who rode at his left hand on a beautiful palfrey. All the houses were decorated with gay draperies and wreaths. Bat the object of these rejoicings did not appear happy; he gloomily bent his head, and cast dark looks at the walls and the Capitol, from which floated, not the dragon flags of Byzantium, but the banners and ensigns of the municipal legions, formed after the model of the Roman eagles and standards. At the Asinarian Gate young Lucius Licinius had sent back the vanguard of the imperial army, and the heavy portcullis did not rise until, at the side of Belisarius on his bay horse, appeared Cethegus the Prefect, mounted on his splendid charger. Lucius was astonished at the change which had taken place in his admired friend. The Prefect's cold and severe reserve seemed to have disappeared; he looked taller, younger; the glory of victory illumined his features. He wore a richly-gilded helmet, from which the crimson mane flowed down to his mail-coat. This last was a costly work of art from Athens, and showed upon every one of its round plates a finely-worked relief in chased silver, each representing a victory of the Romans. The victorious expression of his beaming face, his proud carriage, and scintillating armour, outshone Belisarius, the imperial magister militum himself, and all his glittering staff, which, led by Johannes and Procopius, followed close behind. And this superiority was so striking, that by the time the procession had passed through several streets, the impression was shared by the mob, and the cry, "Cethegus!" was soon heard more loudly and frequently than the name of "Belisarius!" Antonina's fine ear soon began to remark this circumstance; she listened uneasily at every pause of the procession to the cries and remarks of the by-standers. When they had left the Thermæ of Titus behind them, and had reached the Via Sacra, near the Flavian Amphitheatre, they were obliged to stop on account of the crowd. A narrow triumphal arch had been erected here, which could only be passed at a slow pace. "Victory, to the Emperor Justinian and his general, Belisarius," was inscribed thereon. As Antonina was reading this inscription, she heard an old man, who appeared to be but scantily initiated into the course of events, questioning his son, one of the legionaries of Cethegus. "Then, my Gazus, the gloomy man with the angry-looking face, on the bay horse----" "Yes, that is Belisarius, as I told you." "Indeed? Well--then the stately hero on his left hand, with the triumphant look--he on the charger, must be his master, the Emperor Justinian." "Not at all, father. _He_ sits quietly in his golden palace at Byzantium and writes laws. No; that is Cethegus, _our_ Cethegus, _my_ Cethegus, the Prefect, who gave me my sword. Yes, that _is_ a man! Lucius, my tribune, said lately, 'If he did not allow it, Belisarius would never see a Roman Gate from the inside.'" Antonina gave her grey palfrey a smart stroke with her silver rod, and galloped quickly through the triumphal arch. Cethegus accompanied the commander-in-chief and his wife to the Pincian Palace, which had been sumptuously prepared for their reception. Then he took leave, in order to assist the Byzantine generals in quartering the troops, partly on the citizens; partly in the public buildings, and partly before the gates of the city in tents. "When you have recovered from the fatigues and honours of the day, Belisarius, I shall expect you and Antonina, with your staff, at a banquet in my house," he had said before leaving them. After some hours, Marcus Licinius, Piso, and Balbus appeared to fetch the invited guests. They accompanied the litters in which Antonina and Belisarius were carried. The generals went on foot. "Where does the Prefect live?" asked Belisarius, as he entered his litter. "As long as you are here, by day in the Mausoleum of Hadrian, by night in the Capitol." Belisarius started. The little procession approached the Capitol. The commander-in-chief saw with astonishment all the walls and works, which had lain in ruins for more than two centuries, restored to immense strength. When they had wound their way through the long, dark, and zigzag passage which led into the fortress, they arrived at a massive iron door, which was fast shut, as if in time of war. Marcus Licinius called to the sentinel. "Give the watch-word!" cried a voice from within. "Cæsar and Cethegus!" answered the war-tribune. Then the wings of the door sprang open; a long lane formed by Roman legionaries and Isaurian mercenaries became visible, the last clad in iron up to their very eyes, and armed with double-bladed battle-axes. Lucius Licinius stood at the head of the Romans with drawn sword; Sandil, the Isaurian chief, at the head of his countrymen. For one moment the Byzantines hesitated, overpowered by the impression of this display of granite and iron. Suddenly the faintly-illumined space became bright with light, and, accompanied by torch-bearers and flute-players, without armour, a wreath upon his brow, such as was generally worn by the giver of a feast, and dressed in a magnificent indoor garment of purple silk, appeared Cethegus. He came forward smiling, and said: "Welcome! Let flutes and trumpets loudly proclaim that the happiest hour of my life has arrived--Belisarius is _my_ guest in the Capitol!" And, amid a tremendous flourish of trumpets, he led his silent guests into the fortress. CHAPTER XIII. During these occurrences among the Romans and Byzantines, decisive events were in preparation on the part of the Goths. Duke Guntharis and Earl Arahad, leaving a small garrison behind them, and taking their Queen with them as prisoner, had left Florentia and gone, by forced marches to Ravenna. If they could reach and win this fortress, which was considered impregnable, before Witichis, who pressed forward after them, they would be able to make any conditions with the King. They had a capital start, and hoped that their enemies would be stopped for some time before Florentia. But they lost almost all the advantages of their start; for the towns and castles bordering the nearest road to Ravenna had declared for Witichis, and this circumstance obliged the rebels to take a circuitous route northwards to Bononia (Bologna), whose inhabitants had embraced their cause, and thence march eastwards to Ravenna. Notwithstanding this delay, when they reached the marshy land surrounding that fortified city, and were only half a day's march from its gates, nothing could be seen of the King's army. Guntharis allowed his greatly-fatigued troops to rest for the remainder of the day, which was already drawing to a close, and sent a small troop of horsemen under the command of his brother, to announce their arrival to the Goths in the fortress. But at dawn the next day Earl Arahad came flying back into the camp with a greatly diminished troop. "By the sword of God!" exclaimed Guntharis, "whence comest thou?" "We come from Ravenna. We reached the outermost ramparts of the city and demanded admittance; but were roughly repulsed, although I showed myself and called for old Grippa the commander. He insolently declared that to-morrow we should learn the decision of the city; we, as well as the army of the King, whose vanguard is already approaching the city from the south-east." "Impossible!" cried Guntharis angrily. "I could do nothing but withdraw, although I could not understand the behaviour of our friend. Besides, I held the report of the approach of the King to be an empty threat, until some of my horsemen, who were seeking for a dry place on which to bivouac, were suddenly attacked by a troop of the enemy under the command of Earl Teja, with the cry, 'Hail, King Witichis!' After a sharp combat they were worsted." "Thou ravest!" cried Guntharis. "Have they wings? Has Florentia been blown away out of their path?" "No! but I learned from Picentinian peasants that Witichis marched to Ravenna by the coast-road, past Auximum and Ariminum." "And he left Florentia in his rear unconquered? He shall repent of that!" "Florentia has fallen! He sent Hildebad against it, who took it by storm. He broke in the Gate of Mars with his own hand, the furious bull!" Duke Guntharis listened to these evil tidings with a gloomy face; but he quickly came to a decision. He at once set forth with all his troops, intending to take the city of Ravenna by surprise. His attack failed. But the rebels had the consolation of seeing that the fortress, whose possession would determine the result of the civil war, had at least refused to open its gates to the enemy. The King had encamped to the south-east, before the harbour town of Classis. Duke Guntharis's experienced eye soon perceived that the marshes on the north-west would also afford a secure position, and there he shortly afterwards pitched his well-protected camp. So the rival parties, like two impetuous lovers of a coy maiden, pressed from opposite sides upon the royal residence, which seemed disinclined to lend an ear to either. The day following two embassies, consisting of Ravennese and Goths, issued from the Gates of Honorius and of Theodoric, on the north-west and south-east, and brought to the camp of the rebels, as well as to that of the King, the fateful decision of the city. This decision must have been a strange one. For the two commanders, Guntharis and Witichis, kept it, in singular conformity, strictly secret, and took great care that not a word should become known to their troops. The ambassadors were immediately conducted from the tents of the commanders of either camp to the very gates of the fortress, escorted by generals who forbade any communication with the troops. And in other ways the effect of the embassy in both camps was singular enough. In the rebel camp it led to a violent altercation between the two brothers, and afterwards to a very animated interview between Duke Guntharis and his fair prisoner, who, it was said, had only been saved from his rage by the intervention of Earl Arahad. Finally, the rebel camp sank into the repose of helpless indecision. More important consequences ensued in the opposite camp. The first answer which King Witichis gave the embassy was the order for a general attack upon the city. Hildebrand and Teja and the whole army received this order with astonishment. They had hoped that the strong fortress would voluntarily open its gates. Contrary to all Gothic custom and his own usually frank manner, King Witichis imparted to no one, not even to his friends, the object of the embassy, or the reason of his angry attack. Silently, but with doubting shakes of the head and little hope of success, the army prepared for the assault. They were repulsed with great loss. In vain the King urged his Goths again and again to storm the precipitous and rocky walls. In vain he himself was the first, three several times, to climb the scaling-ladders. From early morning to sunset the assaulters stormed the place without making the least progress; the fortress well preserved its old reputation of invincibility. And when at last the King, stunned by a stone, was carried out of the turmoil, Teja and Hildebrand ceased their efforts and led the weary troops back to the camp. The temper of the army during the following night was very sad and depressed. They had to complain of great losses, and had now nothing but the conviction that the city could not be taken by force. The Gothic garrison of Ravenna had fought side by side with the citizens on the walls. The King of the Goths lay encamped before his own residence, before the stronghold of his kingdom, in which he had hoped to find protection and the time to arm against Belisarius! But the worst was, that the army laid the whole blame of the unhappy struggle and the necessity of civil war upon the King. Why had the negotiations with the city been so abruptly broken off? Why was not the cause of this breach, if it were a just one, made known to the troops? Why did the King shun the light? The soldiers sat dejected by their watch-fires, or lay in their tents nursing their wounds and mending their weapons; no ancient heroic songs sounded, as usual, from the mess-tables of the camp; and when the leaders walked through the lanes of tents, they heard many a word of anger and vexation directed against the King. Towards morning Hildebad arrived in the camp from Florentia with his thousands. He heard with indignation of the news of the bloody defeat, and wished to go at once to the King; but as the latter still lay unconscious under Hildebrand's care. Earl Teja took Hildebad into his tent to answer his impatient questions. Some time after the old master-at-arms joined them; with such an expression on his features that Hildebad sprang affrighted from the bear-skin which served him for a couch, and even Teja asked hastily: "How is the King? What of his wound? Is he dying?" The old man shook his head sadly. "No; but if I guess rightly, judging him by his honest heart, it would be far better for him to die." "What meanest thou? What dost thou suspect?" "Peace, peace," said Hildebrand sadly, and seating himself, "poor Witichis! it will be spoken of soon enough, I fear." And he was silent. "Well," said Teja, "how didst thou leave him?" "The fever has left him, thanks to my herbs. He will be able to mount his horse to-morrow. But he spoke of strange things in his confused dreams--I hope that they are but dreams--else, woe to the faithful man!" Nothing more could be got out of the taciturn old man. Some hours after, Witichis sent for the three leaders. To their astonishment, they found him in full armour, although he was obliged, while standing, to support himself on his sword. On a table near him lay his crown-shaped helmet and a sceptre of white ivory, surmounted with a golden ball. The friends were startled by the impaired look of his usually so composed, handsome, and manly features. He must have gone through some fearful inward struggle. His sound, simple nature, which seemed to be all of one piece, could not endure the strife of doubtful duties and contradictory feelings. "I have summoned you," he said with great effort, "to hear and support my decision in our grave position. How heavy have been our losses in this attack?" "Three thousand dead," said Earl Teja, very gravely. "And about six thousand wounded," added Hildebrand. Witichis closed his eyes as if in pain. Then he said: "It cannot be helped, Teja. Give at once the command for a second attack!" "How! what!" cried the three leaders like one man. "It cannot be helped," repeated the King. "How many thousands hast thou brought us, Hildebad?" "Three; but they are dead tired from the march. They cannot fight to-day." "Then we will storm alone again," said Witichis, taking his spear. "King," said Teja, "we did not win a single stone of the fortress yesterday, and to-day we have nine thousand men less----" "And those not wounded are faint, their weapons and their courage broken." "We _must_ have Ravenna!" repeated Witichis. "We shall never take it by force," said Earl Teja. "We will see about that!" retorted Witichis. "I besieged the city with the great King," said Hildebrand warningly. "He stormed it in vain seventy times. We only took it by starving it--after three years." "We must attack!" cried Witichis. "Give the command." Teja was about to leave the tent. Hildebrand stopped him. "Remain," he said; "we dare not hide it from him any longer. King! the Goths murmur. To-day they would not obey thee; the attack is impossible." "Stand things so?" said Witichis bitterly. "The attack is impossible? Then only one thing remains: the course which I should have taken yesterday--then those three thousand would have been still living. Go, Hildebad, take that crown and sceptre! Go to the rebels' camp; lay them at the feet of young Arahad; tell him that he may woo Mataswintha; I and my army will greet him as our King." And, so speaking, he threw himself exhausted upon his couch. "Thou speakest feverishly again," cried Hildebrand. "That is impossible!" cried Teja. "Impossible!" repeated Witichis. "Everything is impossible? The fight impossible? and the renunciation? I tell thee, old man, there is nothing else to be done, after that message from Ravenna." He ceased. His three companions looked at each other significantly. At last the old man said: "What was that message? Perhaps an expedient may be found? Eight eyes see more than two." "No," said Witichis, "not in this case. Here there is nothing to see, otherwise I would have asked your advice long since. But it could have led to nothing. There lies the parchment from Ravenna; but be silent before the army." The old man took the roll and read: "'The Gothic warriors and the citizens of Ravenna, to Earl Witichis of Fæsulæ----'" "What insolence!" cried Hildebad. "'And to Duke Guntharis of Florentia, and Earl Arahad of Asta. The Goths and the citizens of this city declare to the two armies encamped before their gates, that they, faithful to the distinguished House of Amelung, and remembering the benefits of the great King Theodoric, will firmly cling to his royal line as long as a scion of it lives. Therefore we acknowledge Mataswintha as sole mistress of the Goths and Italians; only to her will we open our gates, and we will defend them against any other to the utmost.'" "What madness!" said Earl Teja. "Incomprehensible!" cried Hildebad. But Hildebrand folded the parchment and said: "I understand it very well. As to the Goths, you must know that the garrison is formed of the followers of Theodoric, and these followers have sworn to him never to prefer a strange king to one of his line. I, too, swore this oath, but, in doing so, I ever thought of the spear and not of the spindle. It was this oath which obliged me to adhere to Theodahad, and only after his treachery was I free to do homage to Witichis. But old Earl Grippa, of Ravenna, and his companions, believe that they are equally bound to the females of the royal line. And, be sure of it, these grey-headed heroes--the oldest in the nation, and Theodoric's brothers-at-arms--will let themselves be hewn in pieces, man for man, rather than break that oath as they understand it. And, by Theodoric, they are right! But the Ravennese are not only grateful, they are cunning; they hope that Goths and Byzantines will fight out their affair before their walls. If Belisarius win--who, as he says, comes to avenge Amalaswintha--he cannot then be angry with the city which has remained faithful to her daughter; and if we win, then it was they who obliged the garrison to close their gates." "However that may be," interposed the King, "you will now understand my silence. If the army knew the contents of that parchment, they might be discouraged, and go over to the rebels, who hold the Princess in their power. There remain to me only two courses: either to take the city by storm--and that we tried yesterday in vain--or, to yield. You say the first course cannot be repeated, so there only remains the last--to yield. Arahad may woo the Princess and wear the crown; I will be the first to do him homage and protect the kingdom, in concert with his brave brother." "Never!" cried Hildebad. "Thou art our King, and shall remain so. Never will I bow my head to that young coxcomb! Let us march to-morrow against the rebels; I alone will drive them out of their camp, and carry the royal child--at the touch of whose hands those fast-shut gates will fly open as if by magic--into _our_ tents." "And when we have her," asked Earl Teja, "what then? She is of no use to us if we do not make her our Queen. Wilt thou do so? Hast thou not had enough with Amalaswintha and Gothelindis? Once more the rule of a woman?" "God forbid!" laughed Hildebad. "I think so too," said the King, "otherwise I should have taken this course long since." "Well, then, let us remain here and wait until the city is wearied out." "It is impossible." said Witichis, "we cannot wait. In a few days Belisarius may descend from yonder mountains and conquer us, Duke Guntharis, and the city; then the kingdom and people of the Goths are lost for ever! There are only two ways--to storm--" "Impossible!' said Hildebrand. "Or to yield. Go, Teja, take the crown. I see no other expedient." The two young men hesitated. Then old Hildebrand, with a sad and earnest and loving look at the King, said: "I know of another course to take; a painful, but the only one. Thou must take this course, my Witichis, even if thy heart should break." Witichis looked at him inquiringly. Even Teja and Hildebad were struck by the tender manner of the old man. "Go out," continued Hildebrand, turning to Hildebad and Teja. "I must speak to the King alone." CHAPTER XIV. Silently the two Goths left the tent, and walked up and down, awaiting the result. From the tent they now and then heard Hildebrand's voice, who appeared to warn and argue with the King; and now and then an outcry from the latter. "What can the old man be thinking of?" asked Hildebad, stopping in his walk. "Dost thou not know?" "I guess," sighed Teja; "poor Witichis!" "What the devil dost thou mean?" "Let me alone," said Teja; "it will all come out soon enough." A considerable time elapsed thus. Ever more violent and more full of pain sounded the voice of the King, who seemed to defend himself desperately against Hildebrand's arguments. "Why does the greybeard so torture the brave hero?" cried Hildebad angrily. "It is just as if he would murder him! I will go in and help him!" But Teja held him fast by the shoulder. "Remain!" he cried, "he cannot be helped." As Hildebad was struggling to get loose, the noise of voices was heard from the other end of the lane of tents; two sentries were trying in vain to stop a strong Goth, who, covered with all the signs of a long and hard ride, tried to get to the King's tent. "Let me go, good friend," he cried, "or I will strike thee down!" And he threateningly lifted a heavy club. "It cannot be. Thou must wait. The leaders are with him in his tent." "And if all the gods of Walhalla, together with the Lord Christ, were in his tent, I must go to him!" "I know that voice," cried Earl Teja, advancing, "and the man. Wachis! what seekest thou here?" "Oh, master!" cried the faithful servant, "happy am I to find you. Tell these good folks to let me loose, then I need not knock them down." "Let him loose, or he will keep his word. I know him. Well, what wouldest thou then with the King?" "Pray lead me to him at once. I have sad and terrible news to tell him of his wife and child." "Wife and child?" asked Hildebad in astonishment. "What, has he a wife?" "Very few know it," answered Teja. "She has scarcely ever left their estate, and has never been to court. Scarcely any one knows her, but all who do, honour her highly. I know no one like her." "There you are right, master, if ever any one was!" said Wachis in a suffocated voice. "The poor, poor mother! and, alas, the poor father! But let me go. Mistress Rauthgundis follows close behind. I must prepare him." Earl Teja, without more questioning, pushed the man into the tent, and followed with Hildebad. They found old Hildebrand sitting calmly, like inevitable fate itself, upon the King's couch, his chin resting on his hand, and his hand upon his stone battle-axe. Thus he sat immovable, fixing his eyes upon the King, who, in the greatest excitement, was pacing to und fro with rapid steps, and so absorbed in the terrible conflict of his soul, that he did not remark those who entered. "No, no; never!" he cried, "it is cruel! criminal! impossible!" "It must be," said Hildebrand, without moving. "No, I say!" cried the King; and turned. Wachis was standing close before him. Witichis looked at him wildly; then the servant threw himself at his feet, weeping loudly. "Wachis!" cried the King, in terror; "what is it? Thou comest from her? Stand up--what has happened?" "Alas! master," cried Wachis, still kneeling, "it breaks my heart to see you! I could not help it. I have repaid and avenged with all my might!" Witichis pulled him up to his feet by the shoulders. "Speak, man! What is there to revenge? My wife----" "She lives, she is coming; but your child!" "My child!" cried Witichis, turning pale, "Athalwin? What of him?" "Dead, master--murdered!" A cry as of one wounded to death broke from the tortured father's lips. He covered his face with both hands; Teja and Hildebad stepped forward compassionately. Only Hildebrand remained motionless, and looked fixedly at the group. Wachis could not bear the long and painful pause; he tried to take his master's hands. They fell of their own accord; two great tears rolled down the hero's brown cheeks; he was not ashamed of them. "Murdered!" he cried, "my innocent child! By the Romans?" he asked. "The cowardly devils!" cried Hildebad. Teja clenched his fist, and his lips worked silently. "Calpurnius?" asked Witichis, looking at Wachis. "Yes, Calpurnius. The report of your election had reached the estate, and your wife and child were summoned to the camp. How young Athalwin rejoiced that he was now a King's son, like Siegfried who killed the dragon! He said he would soon go to seek adventures, and also kill dragons and giants. Just then our neighbour returned from Rome. I noticed that he looked gloomy and more envious than ever, and I watched well over house and stalls. But to watch the child--who could have thought that children were no longer safe!" Witichis shook his head sadly. "The boy could hardly wait until he should see his father in the camp, and all the thousands of Gothic warriors, and battles close at hand. He threw away his wooden sword directly, and said a King's son must wear a steel one, especially in time of war. And I was obliged to find a hunting-knife, and sharpen it into the bargain. And with this famous sword he escaped from Mistress Rauthgundis early every morning. And when she asked, 'Whither?' he laughed, 'To seek adventures!' and sprang into the woods. Then he came home at noon, tired out and with torn clothes; wild with merriment and exultation. But he would not tell us anything, and only hinted that he had played at being Siegfried. But when I found spots of blood upon his sword, I crept after him into the woods. It was exactly as I suspected. I had once shown him a hole in some steep and rugged rocks, which hung over a running brook, and warned him that there lay poisonous vipers by dozens. At that time he had questioned me about everything, and when I said that every bite was deadly, and that a poor berry-gatherer, who had been bitten by a snake in her naked foot, had died immediately, he drew his wooden sword in a minute, and wanted to jump into the hole. Much frightened, I with difficulty kept him back. And now I remembered the vipers, and trembled because I had given him a steel weapon. I soon found him in the wood in the middle of the rocks, down among the thorns and brushwood. He was just taking out a tremendous wooden shield which he had made for himself and hidden there. A crown was freshly painted upon it. And he drew his sword and sprang with a joyous cry into the hole. I looked round. There lay strewn about dozens of the big snakes, with shattered heads, the victims of his former battles. I followed the boy, and though I was so anxious, I could not bear to disturb him as he stood there fighting like a hero! He drove a swelling viper from her hole with stones; she erected herself with hissing tongue, but just as she darted at him, he threw his great shield before him and cut her in two with a mighty stroke. Then I called him, and scolded him well. But he looked very brave, bold, and disobedient, and cried, 'Do not tell my mother, for I shall still do it. Until the last dragon is dead!' I said I would take his sword away. Then I will fight with the wooden one, if that please thee better,' he cried. 'And what a shame for a King's son!' For the next few days I took him with me to catch the horses in the uncultivated pastures. That pleased him very much; and shortly, I thought, we shall go away. But one morning he escaped me again, and I went alone to my work. I returned along the brook, sure that I should find him among the rocks. But I did not find him. I found only the belt of his sword lying torn on the thorns and his shield broken on the ground. I looked round alarmed, and sought, but----" "Quicker, go on!" cried the King. "But?" asked Hildebad. "But there was nothing else to be seen on the rocks. Then I noticed the large footprints of a man in some soft sand. I followed them. They led to a place where the rock fell steeply to the brook. I looked over, and below----" Witichis staggered. "Alas! my poor master! There on the shore of the brook lay the little figure! How I got down the rocks, I know not. I was below in an instant. There he lay, cut and torn by the points of the rocks, his little hand still holding fast his sword, his bright hair covered with blood---" "Cease!" cried Teja, laying his hand upon the man's shoulder, while Hildebad grasped the poor father's hand, who sank groaning upon his couch. "My child, my sweet child! my wife!" he cried. "I felt that the little heart still beat," continued Wachis; "water from the brook brought him to his senses. He opened his eyes and recognised me. 'Thou hast fallen down, my poor child?' I asked. 'No,' he said, 'not fallen. I was thrown down.' I was horrified. 'Calpurnius,' he went on, 'suddenly came round the corner of the rocks, as I was striking at the vipers. "Come with me," he said, "or I will bind thee." "Bind me!" I cried, "my father is King of the Goths, and thine also. Dare to touch me!" Then he got angry and struck at me with his stick and came nearer; but I knew that near me our servants were felling trees, and I cried for help and retreated to the edge of the rock. He looked about him in terror, for the people must have heard me; the strokes of their axes ceased. But suddenly he sprang forward, cried, "Die, little viper!" and pushed me over the rock.'" Teja bit his lips. "Oh, the devil!" cried Hildebad. And Witichis, with a cry of pain, tore his hand from Hildebad's grasp. "Cut it short," said Teja. "He lost his senses again," Wachis continued; "I carried him in my arms home to his mother. Once again he opened his eyes while lying on her lap. A greeting to you was his last breath." "And my wife? Is she not desperate?" "No, master; that she is not. She is of gold, but also of steel. When the boy had closed his eyes, she silently pointed out of the window to the right. I understood her. There stood the neighbour's house. And I armed all your servants and led them there to take revenge. We laid the murdered boy on your shield and bore him in our midst. And Rauthgundis went with us, a sword in her hand, following the corpse. We laid the boy down before the gates of the villa. Calpurnius had fled on his swiftest horse to Belisarius. But his brother and his son and twenty slaves stood in the courtyard. They were just about to mount and follow him. We uplifted the cry of murder three times. Then we attacked them. We killed them _all_, _all_, and burnt the house down over the inhabitants. Meantime Rauthgundis looked on without a word, keeping watch by the little corpse and leaning on her sword; and the next day she sent me on beforehand to tell you. Shortly after, as soon as she had burnt the little corpse, she followed me. And as I have lost a day, being hindered by the rebels from taking the shortest road, she may arrive at any hour."' "My child, my child! my poor wife! This is the first produce of this unhappy crown! And now," he cried to the old man, with all the impetuosity of pain, "wilt thou still demand that cruel sacrifice? that unbearable sacrifice?" Hildebrand slowly rose. "Nothing is unbearable that is necessary. Winter is bearable, and age, and death. They come, and we bear it. Because we must. But I hear the voices of women, and rustling garments. Let us go." Witichis turned from him to the door. There, under the lifted curtain of the tent, stood Rauthgundis, his wife, dressed in grey garments and a black veil, and pressing a small black urn to her bosom. A cry of loving pain and painful love; and the husband and wife were locked in a close embrace. Silently the witnesses left the tent. CHAPTER XV. Outside Teja held the old man back by his mantle. "Thou torturest the King in vain," he said. "He will never consent. Now least of all!" "How dost thou know?" interrupted the old man. "Peace; I guess it. As I guess all misfortune." "Then thou wilt also acknowledge that he _must_ consent." "He--_he_ will not do it." "But--thou meanest her?" "Perhaps!" "She will!" cried Hildebrand. "Yes, she is a wonder of a woman," answered Teja. While, during the next few days, the now childless pair lived in quiet seclusion, and Witichis scarcely ever left his tent, it happened that the outposts of the royal besiegers and the sentries of the Gothic garrison of Ravenna--taking advantage of the armistice which, as a matter of fact, had ensued--entered into frequent communication. Scolding and disputing, they reproached each other with being the cause of the civil war. The besiegers complained that the garrison had closed the gates of his royal fortress upon the King during the greatest distress of the nation. The Ravennese blamed Witichis for depriving the daughter of the Amelungs of her rights. As old Earl Grippa was making the round of the walls, he listened, unobserved, to one of these conversations. He suddenly came forward, and called to Witichis's soldiers who were standing below, praising their King. "Indeed?" he cried; "is it acting nobly and rightly to attack us like a madman, instead of giving an answer to our moderate demand? And he could so easily spare the blood of the Goths! We only want Mataswintha for our Queen! Well, can he not remain King? Is it so hard to share throne and couch with the most beautiful woman in the world, with the Princess Beautiful-hair,' of whose charms the singers sing in the streets? Must so many thousand brave Goths die, rather than that? Well then, let him continue to attack. We will see which breaks down first; his obstinacy or these walls!" These words of the old commander made an immense impression on all the Goths before the walls. They knew of nothing to say in defence of their King. They also knew as little of his marriage as the rest of the army. In this the presence of Rauthgundis in the camp had altered little, for truly she had not come like a queen. They hastened back to the camp in great excitement, and told what they had heard; how that the obstinacy of the King had sacrificed their brethren. "'Twas for this reason he kept the object of the embassy a secret!" they cried. Soon groups were formed in every lane of the camp, all much excited, speaking of the affair, and blaming the King in tones which grew ever louder. The Germans of those times treated their kings with a freedom of speech which horrified the Byzantines. In this case, vexation at the retreat from Rome; the shame of the defeat before Ravenna; regret for their sacrificed comrades, and anger at this secrecy; all worked together to excite the Goths to a storm of indignation against the King, which was not the less violent, because it was still restrained. This temper of the army did not escape the notice of the leaders. As they passed through the camp, the words of blame were scarcely restrained. But they would only have let loose the mischief if they had angrily rebuked it. And often, when Earl Teja or Hildebad would have interposed a word in mitigation, old Hildebrand kept them back. "Let the tide swell a little more," he said; "when it is high enough I will control it. The only danger would be--" he added, half to himself. "If those in the rebel camp opposite were beforehand with us," said Teja. "Right, thou guesser of riddles! But things go well for us there. Deserters relate that the princess steadfastly refuses. She threatens to kill herself rather than give her hand to Arahad." "Bah!" said Hildebad; "I would risk that!" "Because thou knowest not that passionate creature, that child of the Amelungs! She inherits the fiery blood of Theodoric, and will, after all, play us, too, a bad trick." "Witichis is another kind of wooer than that boy of Asta," whispered Teja. "I trust to that also," answered Hildebrand. "Leave him in peace a few days longer," added the old man; "his grief must have its way. Till it is assuaged he can be brought to do nothing. Do not disturb him. Let him remain quietly in his tent with his wife. I shall be obliged to disturb him soon enough." But the old man was compelled to rouse the King from his grief sooner and in a different way from what he had intended. The Assembly at Regeta had made a law against all Goths who deserted to the Byzantines, condemning [them] to an ignominious death. On the whole, such desertions occurred very rarely, but still, in parts of the country where a few Goths lived among a crowded Italian population, and many intermarriages had taken place, they were more frequent. The old master-at-arms was especially wroth with these renegades, who dishonoured themselves and their nation. It was he who had introduced this law against deserters from the army and the national flag. Its application had not yet been necessary, and its intention was almost forgotten. Suddenly it was brought to mind gravely enough. Belisarius had not yet left Rome with his main army. For more than one reason he wished at present to make that city the principal support of all his movements in Italy; But he had sent numerous parties of skirmishers after the retreating Goths, to tease and disquiet them, and particularly to take possession of the many castles, strongholds and towns from which the barbarian garrison had been driven out and beaten by the Italians, or, hindered by no garrison, had simply gone over to the Emperor of the "Romani," as he called himself in Greek. Such occurrences took place--particularly as, since the Gothic King was in full retreat, and, after the outbreak of the rebellion, the Gothic cause seemed half lost--almost daily. Partly under the influence of the appearance of Belisarius's troops before the gates, partly without such pressure, many towns and castles surrendered. As, however, most of them preferred to wait until they could plead the excuse of necessity, in case of an unhoped-for victory of the Goths, Belisarius had all the more reason to send forth against them small troops of skirmishers, under the command of the deserters, who were well acquainted with the country and the condition of things. And these troops, encouraged by the continued retreat of the Goths, ventured far into the land; every newly-taken castle became a point of departure for further operations. Such a party of skirmishers had lately won Castellum Marcianum, which crowned a rocky height above an extensive pine-wood near Cæsena, close to the royal camp. Old Hildebrand, into whose hands Witichis had given the supreme command since receiving his wound, observed with indignation this dangerous success of the enemy and the treachery of the Italians. And as he did not wish to occupy his troops against Duke Guntharis or Ravenna--always hoping for a peaceable solution of the difficulty--he decided to play these bold skirmishers a famous trick. Spies had related that, on the day after Rauthgundis's arrival in the camp, the new Byzantine garrison of Castellum Marcianum had dared to threaten Cæsena itself, the important town in the rear of the Gothic camp. The old master-at-arms furiously swore destruction to the insolent enemy. He put himself at the head of a thousand horsemen, and started in the stillness of the night, with straw twisted round the hoofs of the horses, in the direction of Cæsena. The surprise succeeded perfectly. Unobserved they entered the wood at the foot of the rock upon which the castle was situated. Hildebrand divided his men into two parties, one of which he ordered to surround the wood on all sides; the other to dismount and follow him silently up to the castle. The sentinels at the gate were taken by surprise, and the Byzantines, finding that they were attacked by superior numbers, fled on all sides into the wood, where the greater part of those on horseback were taken prisoners. The flames from the burning castle illuminated the scene. But a small group retreated, fighting, over the little river at the foot of the rock, which was crossed by a narrow bridge. Here Hildebrand's pursuing horsemen were checked by a single man--a leader, as it seemed from the splendour of his armour. This tall, slender, and seemingly young man--his visor was down--fought as if in desperation, covered the retreat of his men, and had already overthrown four Goths. Then up came the old master-at-arms, and looked on for a while at the unequal combat. "Yield, brave man!" he cried to the lonely combatant. "I will guarantee thy life." At this call the Byzantine started; for an instant he lowered his sword, and looked at the old man. But the next moment he had leaped forward and back again; he had cut off the arm of his nearest adversary at one powerful stroke. The Goths fell back a little. Hildebrand became furious. "Forward!" he cried. "No more pity! Aim at him with your spears!" "He is proof against iron!" cried one of the Goths, a cousin of Teja. "I hit him three times; he cannot be wounded." "Thinkest thou so, Aligern?" laughed the old man grimly. "Let me see if he be proof against stone." And he hurled his stone battle-axe--he was almost the only one who still carried this ancient heathen weapon--at the Byzantine. The heavy axe crashed upon the glittering helmet of the brave defender of the bridge, who fell as if struck by lightning. Two men sprang towards him and raised his visor. "Master Hildebrand," cried Aligern in astonishment, "it is no Byzantine!" "And no Italian!" added Gunthamund. "Look at his golden locks--it is a Goth!" observed Hunibad. Hildebrand came forward--and started violently. "Torches!" he cried; "light! Yes," he added gloomily, taking up his stone axe, "it is a Goth! And I--I have slain him," he concluded, with icy calmness. But his hand trembled on the shaft of his axe. "No, master," cried Aligern, "he lives. He was only stunned; he opens his eyes." "He lives?" asked the old man, shuddering. "May the gods forbid!" "Yes, he lives!" repeated the Goths, raising their prisoner. "Then woe to him, and to me! But no! The gods of the Goths have delivered him into my power. Bind him upon thy horse, Gunthamund; but firmly. If he escape, it is at the peril of _thy_ head, not his. Forward! To horse, and home!" When they arrived at the camp, the escort asked the master-at-arms what they should prepare for their prisoner. "A bundle of straw for to-night," he answered, "and for to-morrow early--a gallows." With these words he entered the King's tent, and reported the result of his excursion. "We have a Gothic deserter among our prisoners," he concluded grimly. "He must hang before sunset to-morrow." "That is very sad," said Witichis, sighing. "Yes; but necessary. I shall summon the court-martial for to-morrow. Wilt thou preside?" "No," said Witichis, "exempt me from that. I will appoint Hildebad in my place." "No," cried the old man, "that will not do. I am commander-in-chief as long as thou keepest thy tent. I demand the presidency as my right." Witichis looked at him. "Thou art so grim and cold! Is it an enemy of thy kindred?" "No," said Hildebrand. "What is the name of the prisoner?" "Hildebrand--like mine." "Meseems thou hatest him--this Hildebrand. Thou mayst judge; but beware of exaggerated severity. Do not forget that I pardon gladly." "The well-being of the Goths demands his death," said Hildebrand quietly; "and he will die!" CHAPTER XVI. Early the next morning the prisoner, with his head covered, was led to a meadow on the north, the "cold corner" of the camp, where were assembled the leaders of the army and a great part of the troops. "Listen," said the prisoner to one of his escort; "is old Hildebrand on the Ting-place?" "He is the head of the Ting." "They are and will ever remain barbarians! Do me a favour, friend--I will give thee this purple belt for it. Go to the old man; tell him that I know that I must die, but I beg him to spare me, and still more my family--dost thou hear? my _family_--the shame of the gallows. Beg him to send me a weapon secretly." The Goth, Gunthamund, went to seek Hildebrand, who had already opened the court. The proceedings were very simple. The old man first caused the law of Regeta to be read aloud; then witnesses proved the taking of the prisoner, and afterwards he was led forward. A woolsack still covered his head and shoulders. It was just about to be taken off, when Gunthamund reached Hildebrand and whispered in his ear. "No," cried Hildebrand, frowning; "tell him that the shame of his family is his _deed_, not his punishment," And he called aloud: "Show the face of the traitor! It is Hildebrand, son of Hildegis!" A cry of astonishment and horror ran through the crowd. "His own grandchild!" "Old man, thou shalt not preside! Thou art cruel to thy flesh and blood!" cried Hildebad, starting up. "Only just; but to every one alike," answered Hildebrand, striking his staff upon the ground. "Poor Witichis!" whispered Earl Teja. But Hildebad hurried away to the camp. "What canst thou say for thyself, son of Hildegis?" asked Hildebrand. The young man hastily stepped forward; his face was red, but with anger, not with shame. He showed not a trace of fear. His long yellow hair waved in the wind. The crowd was moved with compassion. The mere report of his brave resistance, the discovery of his name, and now his youth and beauty, spoke powerfully in his favour. With flashing eyes, he looked around at the crowd, and then fixed them with a proud expression on the old man's face. "I protest against this court-martial!" he cried, "Your laws do not concern me. I am a Roman--no Goth! My father died before my birth; my mother was a Roman, the noble Cloelia. I have never felt as if this barbarous old man was my kinsman. I despised his severity as I did his love. He forced his name upon me, the child, and took me away from my mother. But I ran away from him as soon as I could. I have always called myself Flavius Cloelius, never Hildebrand. My friends were Romans; Roman was my every thought; Roman my life! All my friends joined Belisarius and Cethegus; could I remain behind? Kill me--you can and you will! But confess that it is a murder, and not an act of justice! You judge no Goth; you murder a conquered Roman, for Roman is my soul!" The crowd had listened to his defence silently and with mixed feelings. But the old man rose furiously from his seat; his eyes flashed fire; his hands trembled with rage. "Miserable boy," he cried, "thou hast confessed that thou art the son of a Goth! Then art thou a Goth thyself; and if thy heart is Roman, thou deservest death for that alone. Soldiers, away with him to the gallows!" Once more the prisoner advanced to the foot of the judgment-seat. "Then be accursed," he cried, "you rude and savage people! May your nation be accursed! And, most of all, thou, old man with the wolf's heart! Do not think that your savagery and cruelty will do you any service! You shall be wiped away from the surface of this lovely land, and not a trace of you shall be left behind!" At a sign from Hildebrand, the ban-officers again threw the cover over the prisoner's head, and led him away to a hill upon which stood a sturdy yew-tree, deprived of its boughs and leaves. At this moment the eyes of the crowd were diverted towards the camp, whence the sound of horses' hoofs were heard. Soon a troop of riders with the royal banner was seen approaching, Witichis and Hildebad at their head. "Stop!" cried the King from a distance. "Spare the grandchild of Hildebrand! Pardon, pardon!" But the old man pointed to the hill. "Too late, King," he cried; "it is all over with the traitor. So may all perish who forget their nation! The kingdom comes first. King Witichis, and afterwards wife and child and grandchild!" This act of Hildebrand made a great impression upon the army, and a still greater one upon the King. He felt the weight which was given to any demand of the old man by his sacrifice. And with the conviction that resistance had now become much more difficult, he returned to his tent. Hildebrand did not fail to take advantage of the King's humour. In the evening he entered the royal tent with Teja. The husband and wife were sitting silent, hand in hand, on the camp bed; upon a table before them stood the black urn; near it lay a small golden locket, something like an amulet, appended to a blue ribbon; a bronze lamp shed a faint light. As Hildebrand gave his hand to the King, the latter looked into his face, and saw at one glance that he had entered the tent with the fixed resolve to carry out his intentions at whatever cost. All present seemed silently moved by the impending conflict of feeling. "Mistress Rauthgundis," began the old man, "I have to speak of sad things with the King. It will hurt thee to hear them!" Rauthgundis rose, but not to go. Deep pain and earnest love for her husband gave to her fair and regular features a noble and elevated expression. Without removing her right hand from that of her husband, she laid her left gently upon his shoulder. "Speak freely, Hildebrand. I am his wife, and demand the half of these sad words!" "Mistress," the old man repeated. "Let her remain," said the King. "Dost thou fear to tell thy thoughts before her face?" "Fear? no! And though I were forced to tell a god that the people of the Goths was dearer to me than he, I should do it without fear. Know then----" "What! Thou wilt? Spare her, spare her!" cried Witichis, throwing his arms around his wife. But Rauthgundis looked at him quietly and said: "I know all, my Witichis. Yesterday, as I was walking through the camp, unrecognised, in the twilight, I heard the soldiers by the watch-fires blaming thee, and praising this old man to the skies. I listened and heard all. What he demands and what thou refusest!" "And thou didst not tell me?" "There was no danger. Do I not know that thou wouldst never put away thy wife? Not for a crown, and not for that wonderfully beautiful maiden. Who can part us? Let this old man threaten; I know that no star hangs more safely in heaven than I in thy heart." This security made an impression on the old man. He frowned. "I have not to argue with thee! Witichis, I ask thee before Teja--thou knowest how things stand: without Ravenna we are lost: Mataswintha's hand alone can open its gates--wilt thou take this hand or not?" Witichis sprang from his seat. "Yes, our enemies are right! We are barbarians! Before this heartless old man stands a splendid woman, unparalleled for her griefs as for her fidelity; here stand the ashes of her murdered child; and he would drag her husband away from this wife and these ashes to form another union! Never--nevermore!" "An hour ago representatives of all the thousands of the army were on their way to this tent," said the old man. "They would have forced thee to do that which I only ask. I kept them back with difficulty." "Let them come!" cried Witichis. "They can only deprive me of my crown--not of my wife!" "Who wears the crown belongs to his people--not to himself!" "Here"--Witichis took the coroneted helmet and laid it upon the table before Hildebrand--"once more and for the last time I give thee back the crown. I did not desire it, God knows! It has brought me nothing but this urn of ashes. Take it back; let who will be King, and woo Mataswintha." But Hildebrand shook his head. "Thou knowest that that would lead to certain destruction. We are already split into three parties. Many thousands would never acknowledge Arahad. Thou alone canst still uphold the kingdom. Wert thou gone, we should be dissolved. We shall become a bundle of separate sticks, which Belisarius will break as if in sport. Wouldst thou have that?" "Mistress Rauthgundis, canst thou make no sacrifice for thy people?" asked Teja, drawing nearer. "Thou too, haughty Teja, against me? Is this thy friendship!" cried Rauthgundis. "Mistress Rauthgundis," replied Teja quietly, "I honour thee more than any other woman on earth, and therefore I ask of thee the greatest of sacrifices----" But Hildebrand interrupted him. "Thou art the Queen of this nation. I know of a Gothic Queen who lived in the heathen times of our forefathers. Hunger and plague lay heavy on her people. Their swords were useless. The gods were angry with the Goths. Then Swanhilde asked counsel of the oaks of the woods, and the waves of the sea, and they answered: 'If Swanhilde dies, the Goths will live. If Swanhilde lives, her people die.' And Swanhilde never returned home. She thanked the gods, and sprang into the flood. But truly, that was in the hero-time." Rauthgundis was not unmoved. "I love my people," she said; "and since these golden locks are all that remain of my Athalwin"--she pointed to the locket--"I believe I could gladly give my life for my people. I will die--yes!" she cried; "but to live and know the man of my heart loving another--no!" "Loving another!" cried Witichis; "how canst speak thus? Knowest thou not, that my tortured heart beats ever and only at the sound of thy name? Hast thou then never felt, never yet, not even at the sight of this urn, that we are eternally one? What am I without thy love? Tear my heart out of my bosom, place another in its place; then perhaps I could forget thee! Yes, truly," he cried, turning to the two men, "you know not what you do; you little know your own interest. You know not that my love for this woman and this woman's love for me is the best that poor Witichis possesses. She is my good genius. You know not that you have to thank her, and her alone, if in anything I please you. I think of her in the tumult of battle, and the thought strengthens my arm. Of her I think when noble decisions must be made in the council; of her clear and serene soul, of her unblemished fidelity! Oh, this wife is the soul of my life! Deprive me of her, and your King is a shadow, without fortune and without strength!" And he passionately folded Rauthgundis in his arms. She was surprised and startled; overcome with a world of bliss. Never yet had the calm and reserved man, who habitually controlled his feelings, spoken so of her or of his love. Never even when he had wooed her, had he spoken with such passion as now, when he was asked to leave her. Overpowered, she sank upon his breast. "Thanks, thanks, O God, for this hour of pain," she whispered. "Yes, now I know that thy heart and soul are mine for ever!" "And will remain thine," said Teja in a low tone, "even if another is called his Queen. She would only share his crown, never his heart!" These words penetrated Rauthgundis's soul. She looked at Teja, moved by his words, with wide eyes. Hildebrand saw it, and now considered how he should strike his final blow. "Who would, who could, tamper with your hearts!" he said. "A shadow without fortune or strength! That thou wilt only become if thou refusest to listen to my words, or break thy sacred, solemn oath. For a _perjurer_ is more hollow than a shadow!" "His oath?" asked Rauthgundis hastily. "What hast thou sworn?" But Witichis sank down upon his seat and buried his face in his hands. "What has he sworn?" repeated Rauthgundis. Then Hildebrand, aiming every word at the hearts of the husband and wife, spoke: "A few years ago a man concluded a mighty bond with four friends at the midnight hour. The sod was raised under a sacred oak, and they swore by the ancient earth and welling water, by the flickering flame and ethereal air. They mixed their living blood and swore a solemn oath; to sacrifice all that they possessed, son and kindred, life, weapons and wives and glory, to the welfare of the Goths! And if any one of them should refuse to keep the oath, when reminded by a brother in time of necessity, his red blood should run unavenged, like the water under the wood-sod. Upon his head heaven should fall and crush him, and he should be for ever subject to all the dark powers under the earth. His soul should be condemned to eternal torture; good men should trample over his grave, and his memory be dishonoured and covered with curses wherever Christians ring bells or heathens offer sacrifices; wherever the wind blows over the wide world, and mothers caress their children. This oath was sworn by five men: by Hildebrand and Hildebad, by Teja and Totila. But who was the fifth? Witichis, son of Waltaris." And he suddenly drew back Witichis's left-hand sleeve. "Look here, Rauthgundis, the scar has not yet vanished. But the oath has vanished from his soul. Thus he swore before he was made King. And when the thousands of Goths, on the field of Regeta, lifted him on the shield, he swore a second oath: 'My life, my happiness, all that I have, do I dedicate to you, the people of the Goths. I swear it by the God of heaven and by my faith.' Well, Witichis, son of Waltaris, King of the Goths, I now remind thee of that double oath. I ask thee whether thou wilt sacrifice, as thou hast sworn to do, thy wife and thy happiness to the people of the Goths? See, I too have lost three sons for this people, and, without shrinking, I have sacrificed and condemned my grandchild, the last scion of my race. Speak, wilt thou do the like? Wilt thou keep thine oath? or wilt thou break it and live accursed? cursed by the living and cursed amongst the dead?" Witichis was convulsed with pain at the words of the old man. Then Rauthgundis rose. She laid her left hand on her husband's breast, and stretched forth her right as if to protect him from Hildebrand. "Cease," she said, "leave, him alone. It is enough! He will do what thou desirest. He will not dishonour and perjure himself for the sake of his wife." But Witichis sprang up, and held her fast in both his arms as if they were about to tear her from him at once. "Now go," she said to the two men; "leave me alone with him." Teja turned to go; Hildebrand hesitated. "Go, go!" she cried, laying her hand upon the marble urn; "I swear to thee by the ashes of my child, that at sunrise he shall be free!" "No," cried Witichis, "I will not put away my wife! never!" "Thou shalt not. It is not thou who sendest me away--I turn away from thee. Rauthgundis goes to save her people and her husband's honour. Thou canst never tear away thy heart from me; I know that mine it will remain, now more than ever! Go, Hildebrand and Teja, what we two have now to go through, will admit of no witness." The two men silently left the place; silently they went together down the lane of tents; at the corner the old man stopped. "Good-night, Teja," he said; "it is now done!" "Yes; who knows if well done? A noble, noble sacrifice! Many more will follow, and, meseems there, in the stars, it stands written--in vain! But for honour then, if not for victory! Farewell." He drew his dark mantle closely round his shoulders, and disappeared like a shadow into the night. CHAPTER XVII. The next morning, before cockcrow, a veiled woman rode out of the camp. A man in a brown war-mantle walked beside her, holding her horse's bridle, and ever and again looking into her veiled face. At an arrow's length behind them rode a servant, with a bundle at his back, where hung a heavy club. They went on their way for some time in silence. At last they reached a woody eminence; behind them lay the broad plain where stood the Gothic camp and the city of Ravenna; before them, to the north-west, the road which led to the Via Æmilia. The woman checked her horse. "The sun is just rising. I have sworn that it shall find thee free. Farewell, my Witichis!" "Hurry not so away from me," he said, pressing her hand. "I must keep my word if my heart breaks! It must be!" "Thou goest more easily than I remain!" She smiled painfully. "I leave my life behind me; thou hast yet a life before thee." "And what a life!" "The life of a King for his people, as thine oath demands." "Fatal oath!" "It was right to swear it; it is a duty to keep it. And thou wilt think of me in the gilded halls of Rome, as I of thee in my hut, deep in the ravine. Thou wilt not forget thy wife, nor the ten years of our faith and love, nor our sweet boy." "Oh, my wife, my wife!" cried the tortured man, pressing his face against the saddle-bow, and putting both arms around her. She bent over him and laid her hand upon his head. Meanwhile Wachis had overtaken them; he looked at the group for a short time, and then he could bear it no longer. He pulled his master gently by the mantle. "Master, listen; I can give you good advice. Do you not hear me?" "What canst thou advise?" "Come with us! Up, away! Mount my horse and ride away with Mistress Rauthgundis. I will follow afterwards. Leave those who torture you till the bright drops stand in your eyes; leave them, and all the rubbish of crown and kingdom. It has brought you no happiness. They do not mean well by you. Who would part man and wife for a dead crown? Up and away, I say! And I know a rocky nest where no one can find you but an eagle or a chamois." "Shall thy master run away from his kingdom, like a bad slave from the mill?" "Farewell, Witichis. Here, take the locket with the blue ribbon; the ringlet of our boy is in it, and one," she whispered, kissing him on the forehead, and hanging the locket round his neck, "one of Rauthgundis'. Farewell, thou, my heart's life!" He raised himself to look into her eyes. She suddenly struck her horse--"Forward, Wallada!"--and galloped away. Wachis followed. Witichis stood motionless, and looked after her. She stopped before the road turned into the wood--once more she waved her hand, and the next minute had disappeared. Witichis listened to the tramp of the horses as if in a dream. When the sound ceased he turned. But he could not leave the place. He stepped out of the road. At the other side of the ditch lay a large mossy block of stone. There the King of the Goths seated himself, rested his arms upon his knees, and buried his face in his hands. He pressed them hard against his eyes, to shut out the whole world from his grief. Tears trickled through his fingers. He did not notice them. Horsemen galloped past. He scarcely heard them. So he sat motionless for hours; so motionless, that the birds of the wood hopped close to him. The sun stood in the south. At last--he heard some one call his name. He looked up. Earl Teja stood before him. "I knew well," said Teja, "that thou hadst not fled like a coward. Come back with me, and save thy kingdom. When, this morning, thou wert not found in thy tent, the report spread through the camp that, despairing of kingdom and happiness, thou hadst fled. It soon reached the city of Ravenna and Guntharis. The Ravennese threaten a sally, and that they will go over to Belisarius. Arahad tempts the army to give him the crown. Two, three opposing Kings arise. Everything will fall to pieces if thou comest not to save us!" "I come!" cried Witichis. "Let them take care! The best heart in the world has been broken for the sake of this crown; it is sacred, and they shall not desecrate it. Come, Teja, back to the camp!" BOOK IV.-_Continued._ WITICHIS. "But the Goths chose Witichis for their king, a man, not indeed of noble birth, but of great fame as a warrior."--_Procopius: Wars of the Goths_, i. 11. PART II. CHAPTER I. When King Witichis readied the camp, he found it almost in a state of anarchy. The pressing need of the moment forcibly roused him from his grief, and gave him sufficient occupation. He found the army split into numerous parties, and on the point of dissolution. He acknowledged to himself that, if he had abdicated, or abandoned the camp, the complete ruin of the Gothic cause would have been the consequence. He found many of the troops already on the point of departure. Some were about to join Earl Grippa in Ravenna; others to go over to the rebels; others again to fly across the Alps. Many spoke of the choice of a new king, and here, too, the different parties opposed each other with threats of violence. Hildebrand and Hildebad still kept together those who did not believe in the flight of the King. The old master-at-arms had declared that if Witichis had really deserted them, he would not rest until he had dealt to him the punishment of Theodoric, while Hildebad rated at those who could believe Witichis capable of such baseness. They had guarded the roads to the city and to the rebel camp, and threatened to oppose force to every movement in those directions; while Duke Guntharis, having heard a report of the confusion, was already advancing against the royal camp. Everywhere Witichis found discontented groups of troops on the point of departure; everywhere he heard words of blame and beheld uplifted weapons. At any moment the camp might become a scene of bloodshed. Quickly resolved, he hurried to his tent, adorned himself with the coroneted helmet and the golden sceptre, mounted Boreas, his powerful charger, and galloped through the lines of tents, followed by Teja, who bore the blue banner of Theodoric. In the middle of the camp they met with a crowd of men, women, and children--for the latter generally accompanied a Gothic army--who, murmuring and threatening, were moving towards the western gate. Hildebad had sent his soldiers to bar this gate with levelled lances. "Let us go out," cried the people. "The King has fled, the war is over, all is lost. We will save our lives." "The King is no coward like thee!" cried Hildebad, pushing back the nearest man. "Yes, he is a traitor!" cried the latter. "He has forsaken and betrayed us for the sake of a woman's tears." "Yes," said another, "he has killed three thousand of our brothers and has fled." "Thou liest!" said a quiet voice. Witichis had turned the corner of a tent. "Hail, King Witichis!" cried Hildebad. "Do you see him, you rabble? Did I not tell you? But it was high time thou camest--things were getting to a desperate pass." Just then Hildebrand came galloping up with a few horsemen. "Hail, King Witichis!" he cried, and turning to his companions--"Hasten, heralds, through the camp," said he, "and tell what you have seen; and all the people will cry: 'Hail, Witichis, our faithful King!'" But Witichis turned from him with a look of anguish. The heralds galloped away in all directions, and shortly there arose through the whole camp the thundering shout, "Hail, King Witichis!" Even those who had just been murmuring joined unanimously in the cry. Witichis listened to these acclamations with a look full of pride and pain, and Teja whispered to him: "Now thou seest that thou hast saved the kingdom." "Up! lead us to victory!" cried Hildebad, "for Guntharis and Arahad approach! They think to surprise us without a chief and in complete disorder. At them! They shall find themselves mistaken. At them! and down with the rebels!" "Down with the rebels!" thundered the soldiers, glad to find an outlet for their excited passions. But the King made a sign. "Peace! No more shall Gothic blood flow from wounds made by Gothic weapons. Wait patiently here. Thou, Hildebad, open the gate for me. None shall follow me. I alone go to the rebels. Thou, Earl Teja, control the troops until I return. But thou, Hildebrand," he cried, raising his voice, "ride to the gates of Ravenna, and loudly bid them open. Their desire is fulfilled, and, before evening, we will enter: King Witichis and Queen Mataswintha." He spoke these words with such sorrowful dignity, that the hearers received them in reverent silence. Hildebad opened the gate of the camp. Without could be discerned the rebels, approaching at a quick march; loudly sounded their war-cry as the gate opened. King Witichis gave his sword to Earl Teja, and rode slowly to meet them. The gate closed behind him. "He seeks death," whispered Hildebad. "No," said Teja, "he seeks the salvation of the Goths." On recognising the solitary horseman, the rebels were amazed. Near the brothers--who marched at the head of the troops--rode the chief of the Avarian archers. He held his hand over his small and twinkling eyes and cried: "By the horse of the war-god, that is the King himself! Now, my boys, sons of the steppes, aim well, and the war is over!" and he quickly took his bow from his shoulder. "Stop, Chan Warchun," cried Duke Guntharis, laying his mailed hand upon the other's shoulder. "Thou hast sadly erred twice in the same breath. Thou hast called Earl Witichis the King: that may be forgiven thee. Thou wouldst murder him who comes as a messenger of peace. That may be Avarian, but is not Gothic custom. Away with thee and thy troop out of my camp!" The Chan started and looked at Guntharis in astonishment. "Away, at once!" repeated Duke Guntharis. The Avarian laughed and signed to his horsemen. "'Tis all one to me. Children, we go to Belisarius. Queer people, these Goths! Giant bodies with children's hearts!" Meanwhile Witichis had ridden up. Guntharis and Arahad looked at him inquiringly. Unusual solemnity was added to the customary simple dignity of his manner; the majesty of deep grief. "I come to speak with you of the welfare of the Goths. Brother shall slay brother no more. Let us enter Ravenna together, and together conquer Belisarius. I shall wed Mataswintha, and you two shall stand nearest to my throne." "Never!" cried Arahad passionately. "Thou forgettest," said Duke Guntharis proudly, "that thy bride is in _our_ tents." "Duke Guntharis of Tuscany, I might answer that shortly _we_ shall be in your tents. We are more numerous and not less brave than you, and, Duke, we have right on our side. I will not speak of that, but only warn you of the fate of the Goths. Should you conquer _us_, you are too weak to conquer Belisarius. Even united, we are scarcely strong enough for that. Give way!" "It is for thee to give way," said the Wölfung. "If thou lovest the Goths, lay down thy crown. Canst thou make no sacrifice for thy people?" "I can. I have done so. Hast thou a wife, O Guntharis?" "I have a dear wife." "I too! I _had_ a dear wife. I have sacrificed her to my people. I have sent her away, in order to woo Mataswintha." Duke Guntharis was silent. But Arahad cried: "Then thou hast never loved her!" Witichis started; the force of his grief and his love redoubled. His cheeks flushed, and casting an annihilating look at the alarmed youth, he cried: "Talk not to me of love! Blaspheme not, thou foolish boy! Because red lips and white limbs flash before thee in thy dreams, darest thou to speak of love? What knowest thou of what I have lost in this wife, the mother of my sweet child? A world of love and faith! Irritate me not. My heart is sore. I control my pain and despair with difficulty. Do not exasperate them, or they will break loose!" Duke Guntharis had become very thoughtful. "I knew thee, Witichis, in the wars with the Gepidæ. Never saw I ignoble man deal such noble strokes. I know that there is nought false in thee. I know the love which binds a man to a good wife. And thou hast sacrificed such a wife to thy people? That is much!" "Brother, of what thinkest thou?" cried Arahad. "What dost thou intend to do?" "I intend not to allow the House of the Wölfungs to be outdone in generosity. Noble blood, Arahad, demands noble acts! Tell me one thing more, Witichis. Wherefore hast thou not rather sacrificed thy crown, even thy life, than thy wife?" "Because it would have been the certain destruction of the kingdom. Twice I would have yielded the crown to Earl Arahad; twice the leaders of my army swore that they would never acknowledge him. Three, four Gothic kings might have been chosen, but, by my honour, Earl Arahad would never have been acknowledged. Then I tore my wife from my bleeding heart; and now, Duke Guntharis, remember thou also the people of the Goths. The House of the Wölfungs is lost if the Goths are lost. If Belisarius lay the axe to the roots of the trunk, the noblest branches will fall too. I have renounced my wife, the crown of my life; renounce thou the hope of a crown!" "It shall not be sung in the halls of the Goths that the freedman Witichis was more self-sacrificing than the chief of the nobility! The strife is at an end; I greet thee, my King." And the proud Duke bent his knee to Witichis, who raised him and pressed him to his heart. "Brother! brother! what shame thou dost me!" cried Arahad. "I look upon it as an honour," said Guntharis quietly. "And as a sign that my King sees no cowardice, but rather nobleness, in my homage, I beg a favour. Amelungs and Balthes have ousted my family from the place which belonged to it among the people of the Goths." "At this moment," answered Witichis, "thou hast redeemed that place. The Goths shall never forget that the generosity of the Wölfungs has saved them from a civil war." "And, as a sign of this, thou wilt give us the right to bear the standard of the Goths before the troops in every battle?" "Be it so," said the King, giving him his right hand; "and none can be more worthy." "Thanks, O King! Let us now go to Mataswintha." "Mataswintha!" cried Arahad, who had looked on at this reconciliation, which buried all his hopes, in dismay. "Ha! you remind me at the right time. You can take the crown from me--let it go--but not my love, and not the duty of protecting my beloved. She has refused me, but I shall love her until death! I have protected her from my brother, who would have forced her to wed me. No less faithfully will I protect her now if you two attempt to force her to give her hand to my hated enemy. That hand, which is dearer to me than all the crowns of the world, shall be free!" And he quickly mounted his horse, and galloped off to the camp. Witichis looked after him anxiously. "Let him go," said Duke Guntharis; "we two, united, have nothing to fear. Let us now reconcile the troops, since the leaders are friends." While Guntharis first led the King through his lines of troops, and called upon them at once to do him homage, which they did with joy, and afterwards Witichis took the Wölfung and his leaders with him into his camp, where the victory so peacefully gained was looked upon as miraculous, Arahad collected together a small troop of about a hundred horsemen, who were faithfully attached to him, and galloped back with them to his camp. He soon reached the tent of Mataswintha, who indignantly rose at his entrance. "Be not angry. Princess. This time thou hast no right to be so. Arahad comes to fulfil his last duty. Fly! thou must follow me!" And, in the impetuosity of his excitement, he grasped her small white hand. Mataswintha receded a step, and laid her hand upon the broad golden girdle which confined her white under-garment. "Fly?" she asked. "Fly whither?" "Over the sea! over the Alps! Anywhere for liberty; for thy liberty is endangered." "Only by thee!" "By me no longer; and I can protect thee no more. So long as only my happiness was at stake, I could be cruel to myself and honour thy will. But now----" "But now?" repeated Mataswintha, turning pale. "They intend thee for another. My brother, the army, and our enemies in Ravenna and the opposite camp, are all agreed. Soon a thousand voices will call thee, the victim, to the bridal altar. I cannot bear to think of it! Such a soul, such beauty, a sacrifice to an unloved marriage bond!" "Let them come!" said Mataswintha. "We will see if they can force me!" And she pressed the dagger which she carried in her girdle to her heart. "Who is the new despot who threatens me?" "Do not ask!" cried Arahad. "Thy enemy, who is not worthy of thee; who does not love thee; he--but follow me--fly! They already approach!" Horses' hoofs were heard outside. "I remain! Who can force the will of the grandchild of Theodoric?" "No; thou shalt not, must not, fall into the hands of those heartless men, who value neither thee nor thy beauty, but only thy right to the crown. Follow me----" At this moment the curtain at the entrance of the tent was pushed aside. Earl Teja entered. Two Gothic boys, dressed in festive garments of white silk, followed him; they bore a purple cushion, covered with a veil. Teja advanced to the middle of the tent, and kneeled before Mataswintha. He, like the boys, wore a green spray of rue round his helmet. But his eyes and brow were gloomy, as he said: "I greet thee. Queen of the Goths and Italians!" Mataswintha looked at him amazed. Teja rose, went up to the boys, took a golden circlet and a green wreath of rue from the cushion, and said: "I give thee the bridal wreath and the crown, Mataswintha, and invite thee to the wedding and coronation; the litter awaits thee." Arahad laid his hand on his sword. "Who sends thee?" asked Mataswintha, with a beating heart, but her hand upon her dagger. "Who but Witichis, the King of the Goths?" On hearing this a ray of ineffable joy shone from Mataswintha's beautiful eyes. She raised both hands to heaven and cried: "Thanks, O heaven! Thy stars and my true heart are not belied. I knew it!" She took the coronet into her white hands and pressed it firmly upon her golden hair. "I am ready," she said. "Lead me to thy master and mine." And she majestically held out her hand to Earl Teja, who reverently led her out of the tent. But Arahad looked after her in speechless wonder as she disappeared, his hand still upon his sword. He was roused by the entrance of Eurich, one of his followers, who came up to him, and laying his hand upon his shoulder, asked: "What now? The horses stand and wait. Whither?" "Whither?" exclaimed Arahad, starting; "whither? There is only one way, and that we will take. To the Byzantines and death!" CHAPTER II. In the peaceful light of late afternoon shone the chapel and convent which Valerius had built in order to release his daughter from the service of the Church. It was situated at the foot of the Apennines, to the northeast of Perusia and Asisum, and to the south of Petra and Eugubium, upon a rocky precipice above the little town of Taginæ. The cloister, built of the dark red stone of the neighbourhood, enclosed in its quadrangle a quiet garden, green with shrubberies. A cool arched passage ran round all its four sides, decorated in the grave Byzantine style, with statues of the apostles, mosaics, and frescoes on a golden background. This ornamentation consisted in symbolic pictures from the sacred writings, especially from the Revelations of St. John, the favourite Gospel of that time. Solemn stillness reigned over the place. Life seemed excluded from within these high and strong walls. Cypresses and arbor-vitæ predominated in the groups of trees in the garden, where the song of a bird was never heard. The strict conventual order suffered no bird, lest the sweet song of the nightingale might disturb the pious souls in their devotions. It was Cassiodorus who, already inclined to a severe monastic rule when minister of Theodoric, and full of Biblical learning, had sketched for his friend Valerius the plan for the outer and inner government of this convent--similar to the rules of the monastery which he himself had founded at Squillacium--and had watched over its execution. His pious but severe mind, so alienated from the flesh and the world, was expressed in the smallest details. The twenty widows and maidens who lived here as nuns passed their days in prayer and psalm-singing, chastisement and penitence, and also in works of Christian charity; for they visited the sick and the poor of the neighbourhood, comforting and nursing body and soul. It made a solemn, poetical, but very sad impression upon the beholder when one of these pious nuns came walking through the dark avenue of cypresses, clad in a flowing dark-grey garment, which trailed on the ground, and a white close-fitting kalantika upon her head, a costume which Christendom had received from the Egyptian priests of Isis. Before every cross of the many which were cut in the box-trees the nuns stood still and folded their hands in adoration. They always walked alone, and dumb as shadows they glided past each other when they chanced to meet; for communication was reduced to the absolutely necessary. In the middle of the garden a spring flowed from beneath a dark-coloured rock, surrounded by cypresses; marble seats were fixed in the rock. It was a retired, lovely spot; wild roses formed a sort of arbour, and almost entirely concealed a rough bas-relief sculptured in the rock, representing the martyrdom of St. Stephen. Near this spring sat, eagerly reading in a roll of papyrus, a beautiful maiden, clad in a snow-white garment, held up on the left shoulder by a golden clasp. A spray of ivy was twined in the dark brown hair, which flowed back from the brow in soft waves. It was Valeria. When the columns of her home at Neapolis had been overthrown, she had found an asylum within these strong walls. She had become paler and graver in this lonely dwelling, but her eyes still beamed with all their former beauty. She read with avidity; the contents of the papyrus seemed to entrance her; her finely-cut lips moved involuntarily, and at last she began to read aloud in a low voice: "His child to Hector of the brazen helm Was given in marriage; she it was who now Met him, and by her side the nurse, who bore Clasped to her breast, his all-unconscious child, Hector's loved infant, fair as morning star; Silent he smiled as on his boy he gazed, But at his side, Andromache in tears, Hung on his arm, and thus the chief addressed: 'Dear lord, thy dauntless spirit will work thy doom; Nor hast thou pity on this thy helpless child, Or me, forlorn to lie thy widow soon: For thee will all the Greeks with force combined Assail and slay: for me, 'twere better far, Of thee bereft, to lie beneath the sod; Nor comfort shall be mine, if thou be lost, But endless grief: to me nor sire is left, Nor honoured mother; But, Hector, thou to me art all in one, Sire, mother, brethren! thou, my wedded love!'" She read no further; her large eyes grew moist; her voice died away; her head sank upon her bosom. "Valeria!" said a mild voice, and Cassiodorus bent forward over her shoulder; "tears upon the book of comfort! But what do I see--the 'Iliad?' Child, I gave you the Evangelists!" "Pardon me, Cassiodorus; my heart clings to other gods than yours. You cannot imagine how, the more the shadow of earnest self-denial presses upon me since I entered these walls, the more tenaciously my resisting heart holds fast to the last ties that bind me to the world. And my mind vacillates between disgust and love." At this moment a loud and cheerful sound broke the silence; a strange tone in these quiet precincts, which usually echoed only the low choral of the nuns. Trumpets sounded the merry signal of the Gothic horsemen. The tones penetrated Valerians heart with a life-giving feeling. The gatekeeper came running from the dwelling-house. "Master," he cried, "bold horsemen are outside the gate. They make a noise and demand meat and drink. They will not be refused, and their leader--there he is!" "Totila!" cried Valeria, and flew to meet her lover, who appeared in his glittering armour and white mantle. "Oh, you bring me air and life!" "And new hope and old love!" said Totila, and held her in a fast embrace. "Whence come you? How long you have been away!" "I come straightway from Paris and Aurelianum, from the courts of the Frank kings. Oh, Cassiodorus, how well off are those on the other side of the mountains! What an easy life have they! There heaven and earth and tradition do not fight against their German spirit. The Rhenus and Danubius are near, and uncounted Germanic races dwell there in old and unbroken strength; we, on the contrary, are like an advanced outpost, a forlorn hope, a single block of rock, worn away by the envious elements. But all the greater fame," he continued, drawing himself up, "if we can create and uphold a kingdom for the Germans in the centre of the country of the Romans! And what a magic lies in your fatherland, Valeria! And we have made it ours. How my heart rejoiced when olives and laurels and the deep deep blue of heaven again greeted my eyes! I felt that if my people can victoriously sustain themselves in this wondrous land, mankind will see its noblest ideal realised." Valeria pressed his hand. "And what have you accomplished?" asked Cassiodorus. "Much! Everything! At the court of the Merovingian, Childebert, I met with ambassadors from Byzantium, who had already half persuaded him to invade Italy as their allies. The gods--forgive me, pious father--Heaven was with me and my words. I succeeded in altering Childebert's sentiments. In the worst case, his weapons will remain neutral. But I hope he will send an army to our assistance." "Where did you leave Julius?" "I accompanied him to his lovely home, Avenio. There I left him among blooming almond-trees and oleanders; there he wanders, no more with 'Plato.' but almost always with 'Augustinus' in his hand; and dreams and dreams of eternal peace between the nations, of perfect goodness, and of the kingdom of God! It is indeed lovely in those green vales; but I do not envy him his leisure. My ideal is folk and fatherland. And my only desire is to fight for this people of the Goths. Everywhere in my backward journey I drove the people to arms. I already met three strong troops on the way to Ravenna. I myself lead a fourth to our brave King. At last we shall advance against these Greeks, and then revenge for Neapolis!" and with flashing eyes he raised his spear. He was very beautiful to look upon. Valeria threw herself into his arms. "Oh see, Cassiodorus!" she cried; "this is _my_ world! _my_ joy! my heaven! Manly courage and the glitter of arms and love of one's people, and the soul moved with love and hate--does not this satisfy the human soul?" "Yes; while happy and young! It is pain which leads the mind to heaven." "My pious father," said Totila, laying his right hand upon the shoulder of Cassiodorus, and drawing Valeria close to him with his left, "it ill becomes me to argue with you, who are older, wiser, and better. But I feel just the contrary. If I could ever doubt the goodness of God, it is when I see pain and undeserved suffering. When I saw my noble Miriam's eyes extinguished in death, my doubting heart asked: 'Does there then exist no God?' In happiness and the sunshine of life is the grace of the Supreme Being revealed to me. He certainly wills the happiness of mankind--pain is His sacred secret; I trust that also this riddle will be made clear to us. But meanwhile let us joyfully do our best upon earth, and allow no shadow to darken our minds too long. In this belief, Valeria, let us part. For I must go to King Witichis with my troop." "You leave me? Already? Ah, when and where shall I see you again?" "You shall see me again; take my word in pledge. I know the day will come when I shall have the right to take you from these gloomy walls and lead you to life and sunshine. Meanwhile, do not allow yourself to give way to sad thoughts. The day of victory and happiness will come; and I rejoice that I draw my sword at once for my people and my love." While he was speaking the gatekeeper had brought a letter for Cassiodorus. "I too must leave you, Valeria," said the latter. "Rusticiana, the widow of Boëthius, calls me to her death-bed. She wishes to ease her mind of old guilt. I go to Tifernum." "My way leads thither also; we will go together, Cassiodorus. Farewell, my Valeria!" After a brief leave-taking, the maiden watched her lover set forth. She climbed a small tower on the garden wall, and looked after him. She saw him swing himself into the saddle; she saw his horsemen gallop after him. Their helmets glittered in the evening light; the blue flag fluttered merrily in the wind; it was a picture of life, strength, and youth. She looked after the troop for some time with intense longing. But as it disappeared more and more into the distance, the joyous courage with which her lover's visit had imbued her, gradually forsook her. Sad forebodings arose in her heart, and she unconsciously expressed her feelings in the words of her beloved Homer: "'Achilles, too, thou see'st; how stalwart, tall, and fair! Yet must he yield to death and stubborn fate, Whene'er at morn, or noon, or eve, the spear Or arrow from the bow may reach his life.'" Sighing painfully, she left the quickly darkening garden, and entered the damp walls of the convent. CHAPTER III. Meanwhile King Witichis, in his armed city of Ravenna, displayed all the arts and activity of an experienced general. As, week by week, and day by day, larger or smaller divisions of the Gothic troops which had been treacherously sent to the frontiers by Theodahad, returned to the city, the King was unceasingly occupied in arming, training, and regulating the whole army, which was gradually to be brought to the number of a hundred and fifty thousand. For Theodoric's reign had been extremely peaceful; the garrisons of the frontier provinces had alone seen active service against the Gepidæ, Bulgarians, and Avarians; and during a peace of more than thirty years the regulations of the army had become somewhat rusty. Therefore the King, supported by his friends and generals, had work enough on his hands. The arsenals and docks were emptied; immense magazines were built in the city, and, between the threefold walls, endless rows of workshops were erected for smiths and armourers of all kinds, who were obliged to labour day and night, in order to satisfy the demands of the ever increasing army, and the eager exigence of the King. All Ravenna had become a camp. Nothing was heard but the hammers of the smiths, the neighing of horses, the rattle of arms, and the war-cry of man[oe]uvring troops. In this turmoil and restless activity Witichis sought to deaden his grief as well as he could, and looked eagerly forward to the day when he might lead his brave army to meet the enemy. But though his first impulse was to lose himself in the vortex of a fierce struggle, he did not forget his duty as King, but sent Duke Guntharis and Hildebad to Belisarius with a proposal of peace on the most moderate conditions. His time thus completely claimed by affairs of state, Witichis had scarcely a thought or look to spare for his Queen, upon whom, as he also imagined, he could bestow no greater favour than the undisturbed enjoyment of liberty. But since the fatal marriage feast of Witichis and Mataswintha, at the end of which she had learned in the bridal chamber, from his lips, that he did not, could never love her, and had but called her wife to save the nation, Mataswintha had been possessed by a demon: the demon of insatiable revenge. The most deadly hatred is that of revolted love. From her childhood Witichis had been Mataswintha's ideal. Her pride, her hope, and her love were all centred in him; and she had as little doubted that the sun would rise on the morrow, as that her longing for him would be satisfied. And now she was forced to confess to herself that he had discovered her passion, and did not reciprocate it; and that, although she was his Queen, her love for him appeared criminal, with regard to his banished wife, who yet alone reigned in his heart. He, whom she had looked upon as her destined liberator from unworthy bondage, had done her the greatest injury; he had caused her to enter into a marriage bond without love. He had deprived her of her liberty, and had refused his heart in exchange. And wherefore? What had been the cause of this sin? The Gothic kingdom, and the Gothic crown; for, to uphold these, he had not hesitated a moment to blast her whole life. "If he had merely failed to reciprocate my love," she said to herself, "I should have been too proud to hate him. But he draws me to him, bestows upon me, as if in mockery, the name of wife, leads me to the very brink of happiness, and then contemptuously thrusts me down into the night of unspeakable humiliation! And why all this? For the sake of an empty sound the Gothic kingdom! For a circlet of gold! Woe to him, and woe to his idol, to which he has sacrificed me! He shall repent it. Without mercy he has destroyed my idol--his own image. Well, then, idol for idol! He shall live to see his kingdom destroyed, his crown broken. I will shatter his ideal, for whose sake he has sacrificed the bloom of my life; and when he stands despairing and wringing his hands before the fragments, I will say: See! thus my idol, too, was shattered!" So, with the unstable sophistry of passion, Mataswintha accused the unhappy man, who suffered more than herself; who had sacrificed not only her happiness, but that of his well-beloved wife, to his fatherland. Fatherland!--Gothic kingdom! The words fell chilly upon the ear of the woman who, from her childhood upward, had connected all her sufferings with these names. She had lived solely absorbed in the egoism of her _one_ feeling, the poetry of her passionate love, and her whole soul was now possessed with the desire of revenge for the loss of her happiness. She wished that she had the power to destroy the kingdom at one blow. But the very madness of her passion endowed her with demoniac cunning. She understood how to hide her deadly hatred and her secret thoughts of revenge from the King--to hide them as deeply as the love which she still entertained for him. She was also able to show an interest in the Gothic kingdom, which seemed to form the only tie between herself and the King; and indeed she really took a deep interest in it, although in an inimical sense. For she well knew that she could only injure the kingdom and ruin the King's cause if she were initiated into all its secrets, and intimately acquainted with its strength and weakness. Her high position made it easy for her to learn all that she wished to know; out of consideration for her powerful party, the knowledge of the situation of the kingdom and army could not be withheld from the daughter of the Amelungs. Old Earl Grippa furnished her with all the information which he himself possessed. In more important cases she was present at the councils which were held in the King's apartments. Thus she was perfectly well acquainted with the position of the kingdom; the strength, quality, and divisions of the army; the hopes and fears of the Goths, and the plans of attack formed by the generals. And she longed with impatience for a speedy opportunity of using her knowledge as destructively as possible. She could not hope to enter into relations with Belisarius himself, therefore her eyes were naturally directed to the Italians in her vicinity, with whom she could easily and unsuspectedly communicate; and who, though neutral in the presence of the Goths, were, without exception, secretly favourable to the Byzantines. But on recalling their names to her memory, she found that there was not one to whose wisdom and discretion she could entrust the deadly secret: that the Queen of the Goths desired the destruction of her kingdom. These cowardly and insignificant men--for all the best had long since joined Cethegus or Belisarius were neither worthy of trust nor capable of dealing with Witichis and his friends. Mataswintha cunningly tried to learn from the King and the Goths themselves, which of the Romans they held to be their most dangerous and powerful enemy; but in answer to such questions, she only heard one name, repeated again and again, and he who owned this name was beyond her reach in the Capitol of Rome--Cethegus the Prefect. It was impossible for her to enter into communication with him. She could trust none of her Roman slaves with such an important mission as the bearing of a letter to Rome. The clever and courageous Numidian, who fully shared the hatred of her beloved mistress to the rude barbarians, from whom she had always experienced contempt, had, in truth, offered, with much zeal, to find her way to Cethegus; but Mataswintha would not expose the girl to the perils of a journey through Italy during war-time. Therefore she was already reconciled to the thought that she must postpone her revenge until the march to Rome. But not the less zealously did she continue to inquire into the plans and stratagems of the Goths. One day she was returning from the council of war, which had been held in the camp without the walls, in the King's tent; for, since the armament had approached its completion, and the Goths had been daily expecting the order to march, Witichis--partly to avoid Mataswintha--had left his rooms in the palace and taken up his abode among his warriors. The Queen, accompanied only by Aspa, was walking slowly forward, pondering upon what she had just heard. She had avoided the press and noise of the inner camp, and pursued her way between a marshy arm of the river Padus to the left and the rows of white tents to the right. While she wandered on, noticing nothing, Aspa's sharp eyes were watching a group of Goths and Italians which surrounded the platform of a conjurer, who appeared, from the astonishment and laughter of the spectators, to be performing new and marvellous tricks. Aspa lingered a little to see something of these wonders. The conjurer was a slender youth, a Celt, to judge by the dazzling white skin of his face and bare arms, and by his long yellow hair; but this supposition was belied by his coal-black eyes. And he really performed wonders in the eyes of his simple audience. Now he sprang up, turned over and over in the air, and fell, now on his hands, now on his feet. Then he seemed to devour glowing coals with great appetite, and in their place, to spit out coins; then he swallowed a dagger a foot long and afterwards drew it out of the back of his head, throwing it up in the air together with three or four others, and catching them in turn by the handle, to the great enjoyment of the spectators, who rewarded him with laughter and cries of admiration. But Aspa had already lingered too long. She looked after her mistress, and observed that her path was intercepted by a troop of Italian carriers and livery-servants, who evidently had not recognised the Queen, and who passed straight before her on their way to the river, joking and making a great disturbance. They appeared to be pointing and throwing stones at some object which Aspa could not distinguish. She was just about to hurry after her mistress, when the conjurer upon the platform near her suddenly uttered a shrill cry. Aspa turned in affright, and saw the youth take an immense leap over the heads of the spectators, and rush at the Italians. He was already in their midst, and, bending down, disappeared for a moment. But he quickly rose to his feet, and one and then another of the Italians fell prone under his blows. In a moment Aspa stood at the Queen's side, who had quietly withdrawn from the turmoil, but, to her surprise, stopped short at a little distance, pointing at the group with her finger. And indeed the sight was a strange one. With incredible strength and still greater agility the conjurer held his assailants off. Springing at his adversaries, turning and bending, retreating and then suddenly darting forward to pull the nearest down by his foot, or to overthrow him with a powerful blow, he defended himself bravely, and that without any weapon, with his right hand alone; for in the left he held something close to his breast, as if hiding and protecting it. This unequal combat lasted several minutes. The conjurer was pushed nearer and nearer to the water by the angry and noisy crowd. Suddenly a naked blade glittered. One of the livery servants, enraged at receiving a severe blow, drew his knife and sprang at the conjurer from behind. With a cry the latter fell; his enemies rushed upon him. "Help! drag them away! help the poor man!" cried Mataswintha to the soldiers, who now approached from the forsaken platform; "I, your Queen, command you!" The Goths hurried to the knot of struggling men; but before they could reach them, the conjurer, who had broken from his adversaries, sprang out of the tumbling group, and, with a last effort, darted straight off in the direction of the two women--followed by the Italians. What a sight! The Gallic tunic of the poor conjurer hung in rags from his body; his false yellow hair was torn off his head, and beneath appeared locks of glossy black; the white hue of his neck ended in a chest the colour of bronze. With a last exertion of strength he reached the women, and recognised Mataswintha. "Protect me, save me, white goddess!" he cried, and fell at her feet. The Italians had already reached him, and the nearest raised his knife. But Mataswintha spread her blue mantle over the fallen man. "Back!" she cried with majesty. "Leave him. He is under the protection of the Queen of the Goths!" The livery-servants fell back abashed. "Indeed!" at last said the one with the dagger, "is this dog and son of a dog to go unpunished? and five of us lie half dead on the ground, and I have three teeth too few? Is there to be no punishment?" "He is punished enough," said Mataswintha, pointing to the deep gash on the neck of the conjurer. "And all this fuss about a worm!" cried another. "About a snake that escaped from his knapsack, which we tried to kill with stones." "See, he has hidden the viper in his bosom. Take it from him!" "Kill him!" screamed the others. But now a number of soldiers came up, and procured respect for their Queen, pushing back the Italians, and forming a circle round the wounded man. Aspa looked at the latter attentively, and suddenly cast herself down beside him, crossing her arms on her bosom. "What is the matter, Aspa? Rise!" said her mistress, much astonished. "Oh, mistress!" stammered Aspa, "the man is no Gaul! He is one of my people. He prays to the Snake-God. Look at his brown skin--as brown as Aspa's! And here--here is writing; letters are tattooed upon his breast; the sacred hieroglyphics of my country!" she cried with delight. And, pointing with her finger, she began to read. "Why this disguise?" asked Mataswintha. "It is suspicious. He must be arrested." "No, no, mistress," whispered Aspa; "dost thou know what these letters mean? No other eye than mine can decipher them for thee." "Well?" asked Mataswintha. "They say," whispered Aspa, "Syphax owes a life to his master, Cethegus the Prefect.' Yes, yes, I know him; it is Syphax, the son of Hiempsal, a friend of my family. The gods have sent him to us." "Yes, Aspa," said Mataswintha, "the gods have sent him: the gods of revenge! Goths, lay this wounded man upon a bier, and follow my slave to the palace. Henceforward he shall be employed in my service." CHAPTER IV. A few days later Mataswintha again repaired to the camp, this time unaccompanied by Aspa, for the latter never stirred, by day or night, from the bedside of her wounded countryman, who was rapidly recovering under her careful nursing. King Witichis himself came to fetch the Queen with all his court, for a most important council of war was to be held in his tent. The arrival of the last reinforcements had been reported, and Guntharis and Hildebad were also expected to return with the reply of Belisarius to the proposal of peace. "This will be a fateful day," said Witichis to his consort. "Pray to Heaven for peace." "I pray for war," said Mataswintha, with a fixed stare. "Does thy woman's heart so long for revenge?" "For revenge alone, and it will be mine!" They entered the tent, which was already crowded with Gothic leaders. Mataswintha returned their reverent greetings with a haughty bend of her neck. "Are the ambassadors here?" the King asked old Hildebrand, as he seated himself. "Then bring them in." At a sign from the old man, the curtains at the side of the tent were withdrawn, and Duke Guntharis and Hildebad entered, bowing low. "What bring you, peace or war?" Witichis asked eagerly. "War! war, King Witichis!" cried both men with one voice. "What! Belisarius refuses the sacrifice I offered him? Hast thou communicated my proposal to him in a friendly and earnest manner?" Duke Guntharis stepped forward and answered: "I met the commander in the Capitol, as the guest of the Prefect, and I said to him: 'The Gothic King, Witichis, sends thee greeting. In thirty days he will march before these walls with a hundred and fifty thousand valiant Goths, and there will be a strife and struggle for this venerable city, such as her bloodstained soil has not witnessed for a thousand years. The King of the Goths loves peace even more than victory, and he swears to yield the island of Sicilia to the Emperor Justinian, and stand by him in every war with thirty thousand Goths, if you will at once evacuate Rome and Italy, which belong to us by right of conquest, as well as according to the treaty with Emperor Zeno, who conceded them to Theodoric when he had overthrown Odoacer.' Thus I spoke, according to thy command. But Belisarius laughed, and cried: 'Witichis is very kind to yield to me the island of Sicilia, which belongs to me already, and is no more his. I will give him instead the island of Thule! No. The treaty of Theodoric with Zeno was a forced one, and as to the right of conquest--well, that speaks now for us. No peace except upon these conditions: that the whole Gothic army lay down their arms, and the entire nation march over the Alps, sending their King and Queen as hostages to Byzantium.'" A murmur of indignation ran through the tent. "Without making any reply to such a proposition," continued Guntharis, "we turned our backs angrily and departed. 'We shall meet again in Ravenna!' Belisarius cried after us." "Then I turned," added Hildebad, "and cried: 'We shall meet again before Rome!' Up, King Witichis! to arms! Thou hast done thine utmost for peace, and hast only reaped humiliation. Up, then! Long enough hast thou lingered and prepared; lead us now to battle!" Just then a flourish of trumpets was heard in the camp, followed by the sound of the hoof-beats of approaching horses. Presently the curtain of the tent was lifted, and Totila entered in his shining armour, his white mantle floating round him. "Hail, my King and my Queen!" he said, bowing, "My mission is fulfilled, I bring you the friendly greeting of the Frank King. He had an army ready for the service of Byzantium, and prepared to attack thee. I succeeded in changing his intentions. His army will not enter Italy against the Goths. Duke Markja of Mediolanum, who, until now, has defended the Cottian Alps against the Franks, is therefore free. He follows me in haste with all his thousands. On my way hither I gathered together whatever men I found capable of bearing arms, and also the garrisons of the fortresses. Further: until now we were short of cavalry. Be comforted, my King! I bring thee six thousand horsemen, splendidly mounted. They long to caper upon the plains of Rome. _One_ wish alone dwells in all our hearts: lead us to battle, to Rome!" "Thanks, my friend, to thee and to thy horsemen! Speak, Hildebrand, how is the army now divided? Tell me, generals, how many men does each one of you command? Notaries, write the numbers down." "I command three thousand foot-soldiers," cried Hildebad. "And I forty thousand foot and horse with shield and spear," said Duke Guntharis. "I lead forty thousand foot: archers, slingers, and spear-bearers," said Earl Grippa of Ravenna. "I seven thousand with knives and clubs," counted Hildebrand. "Then come Totila's six thousand horse, and fourteen selected thousands led by Teja, with battle-axes--where is he? I miss him here--and I have raised the number of my troops, foot and horse, to fifty thousand," concluded the King. "Altogether that makes a hundred and sixty thousand," said the protonotary, writing down the numbers, and handing the parchment to the King. A ray of warlike joy and exultation spread over the face of Witichis. "A hundred and sixty thousand Gothic warriors! Belisarius, shall they lay down their arms before thee without a struggle?--What repose do you need before the march?" Just then Teja hurried into the tent. As he entered he caught the last question. His eyes flashed; he trembled with rage. "Repose? not an hour longer; up! revenge, King Witichis! a monstrous crime has been committed, which cries to Heaven for vengeance. Lead us at once to battle!" "What has happened?" "One of Belisarius's generals, the Hun Ambazuch, besieged, as thou knowest, the fortress of Petra with his Huns and Armenians. There was no relief for the garrison far and near. Only young Earl Arahad--he surely sought death--attacked the superior force with his small troop; he fell in brave combat. The little company of armed Goths in the fortress resisted desperately, for all the helpless people of the Goths, the Aged, the sick, women and children, coming from the plains of Tuscany, Valeria, and Picenum, and amounting to some thousands, had taken refuge in the fortress from the enemy. At last famine compelled them to open the gates, with the stipulation that they should be allowed to leave unhurt. The Hun swore that he would not allow a drop of Gothic blood to be shed. He entered, and ordered the Goths to assemble in the Great Basilica of St. Zeno. This they did, above five thousand people and a few hundred warriors. And when they were all assembled----" Teja paused with a shudder. "Well?" asked Mataswintha, turning pale. "The Hun closed the doors, surrounded the church with his troops--and burnt all the five thousand, together with the church." "And his promise!" cried Witichis. "Yes, so cried the desperate people amidst the smoke and flames! 'My promise?' laughed the Hun, 'it will be fulfilled: not a drop of blood will be shed. The Goths must be burnt out of Italy, like field-mice and vermin.' And so the Byzantines looked on, while five thousand Goths, aged men, women, sick people, and children--King Witichis, dost thou hear?--_children_! were miserably suffocated and burnt to death! Such things happen, and thou--thou sendest offers of peace! Up, King Witichis!" cried the enraged man, drawing his sword. "If thou be a man, set forth at once to revenge thy people! The spirits of the murdered will march before us. Lead us to battle! Lead us to revenge!" "Lead us to battle! lead us to revenge!" echoed the Goths with a shout. Witichis rose with quiet majesty. "So be it! the extremity has been reached. And our best armour is our right. To arms!" And he gave the parchment, which he held in his hand, to Mataswintha, in order to take up the blue banner which hung over his chair. "You see this old banner of Theodoric; he has carried it from victory to victory. It is now, alas, in weaker hands than his; but do not be discouraged. You know well that a foolish confidence is not in my nature, but this time I tell you beforehand that a present victory rustles in the folds of this flag--a great, proud, and avenging victory! Follow me! The army will march at once. Generals, order your troops. To Rome!" "To Rome!" was echoed through the tent. "To Rome!" CHAPTER V. In the meantime Belisarius prepared to leave the city of Rome with his main army, and during his absence he entrusted his command to Johannes. He had resolved to attack the Goths in Ravenna. His unchecked and victorious march, and the successes of his advanced troops of skirmishers--who, through the revolt of the Italians, had won all the fortresses, castles, and towns till within a short distance of Ravenna--had awakened in Belisarius the conviction that the campaign would soon be ended, and that the only thing left to do was to crush the helpless barbarians in their last strongholds. For after Belisarius himself had won the whole southern part of the peninsula--Bruttia, Lucania, Calabria, Apulia, and Campania--and had afterwards occupied Rome and marched through Samnium and the Valeria, his lieutenant-generals, Bessas and Constantinus, with his own body-guard, commanded by the Armenian Zanter, the Persian Chanaranges, and the Massagetian Æschman, had been sent forward to conquer Tuscany. Bessas advanced upon the strong fortress of Narnia. For the means of assault available at that time, this castled town was almost impregnable. It was situated upon a high mountain, at the foot of which runs the deep river Nar. The only two approaches to this fortress from the east and west are a narrow pass and the old lofty and fortified bridge erected by the Emperor Augustus. But the Roman population overpowered the half-Gothic garrison which lay there, and opened the gates to the Thracians of Bessas. In the same manner, Spoletium and Perusia succumbed to Constantinus without striking a blow. Meanwhile another general, the Comes Sacri Stabuli Constantinus, had, on the east coast of the Ionian Gulf, avenged the death of two Byzantine leaders--the magister militum for Illyrium, Mundus, and his son Mauricius, who had fallen at the beginning of the war at Solona, in Dalmatia--had occupied Solona, and forced the scanty Gothic troops to retreat to Ravenna. So all Dalmatia and Liburnia had fallen into the hands of the Byzantines. From Tuscany, as we have seen, the Huns of Justinian were already devastating Picenum and the country as far as the Æmilia. Therefore Belisarius held the peace proposals of the Gothic King to be a sign of weakness. It never occurred to him that the barbarians would advance to the attack. At the same time, he was eager to leave Rome; for he felt a strong repugnance to being called the guest of the Prefect. In the open field his superiority would soon be fully displayed. The Prefect left the Capitol to the charge of his faithful tribune, Lucius Licinius, and followed the march of Belisarius. In vain he warned the latter against too great confidence. "Remain behind the rock of the Capitol if you fear the barbarians," Belisarius had answered sarcastically. "No," retorted Cethegus; "a defeat of Belisarius is too rare a spectacle. I must not miss it." In truth, Cethegus would have been glad to witness the humiliation of the great general, whose fame inspired the Italians with too great admiration. Belisarius had led his troops out of the northern gate of the city, and had pitched a camp at a few miles distant, in order to hold a review and make a new division of the army, which was the more necessary as the influx of Italians who hastened to join his flag was very great. He had also recalled Bessas, Constantinus, and Ambazuch, with the greater part of their troops. They had only left a small portion behind them to garrison the towns which they had conquered. Vague rumours of the approach of a Gothic army had spread in the camp. But Belisarius would not believe them. "They dare not come," he replied to Procopius's warnings; "they lie in Ravenna and tremble before Belisarius." Late at night Cethegus lay sleepless upon his coach in his tent. He had left the lamp burning. "I cannot sleep," he said to himself. "There is a sound of clashing arms in the air, and an odour of blood. The Goths are coming; they are most surely marching down through the Sabine mountains, on the Via Casperia and Salara." On a sudden the curtain of his tent was pushed back, and Syphax rushed up to his couch breathless. "I know," cried Cethegus, springing up, "what you come to announce--the Goths are coming!" "Yes, master; to-morrow they will be here. They advance upon the Salarian Gate. I had the Queen's best horse; but this Totila, who leads the vanguard, rushes like the wind over the desert, and here in the camp no one has any suspicion." "The great general," laughed Cethegus, "has placed no outposts on the watch." "He relied upon the solid tower on the bridge over the Anius,[1] but----" "Well, the tower is safe?" "Yes; but the garrison--Roman citizens from Neapolis--at once went over to the Goths when young Totila appeared. The body-guards of Belisarius, who tried to stop them, were taken prisoners and delivered up to Totila; the tower and the bridge are in the hands of the Goths." "Things are going on well! Have you any idea of the strength of the enemy?" "Not merely an idea; I know it as exactly as Witichis himself. Here is the list of their troops; Mataswintha, their Queen, sends it to you." Cethegus looked at him inquiringly. "Do miracles take place to further the ruin of the Goths?" "Yes, master, miracles! This lovely woman desires the ruin of her people, to revenge herself on one man. And this man is her husband!" "You are mistaken," cried Cethegus. "She loved him from childhood, and even bought his bust." "Yes, and she loves him still. But he loves not her; and the bust of Mars was shattered on the night of her marriage." "She cannot have told you all this herself?" "No; but Aspa, my countrywoman and her slave, told me all. She loves me; and she loves her mistress almost as much as I my master. Mataswintha wishes you to aid in the destruction of the kingdom of the Goths. She will write, through Aspa, in the secret cypher of my race. And if I were Cethegus, I would take this sun-like Queen to my wife." "I too, if I were Syphax. But your message deserves a crown! A revengeful and cunning woman is worth more than legions! Now I defy you, Belisarius, Witichis, and Justinian! Ask a favour, Syphax--anything except your freedom, for I need you yet." "My freedom is--to serve you. _One_ favour--let me fight at your side to-morrow?" "No, my beautiful panther; I do not need your claws--only your stealthy step. You will keep silence about the vicinity and strength of the Goths. Help me on with my armour, and give me the plan of the Salarian road out of that casket. Now call Marcus Licinius, and the leader of my Isaurians, Sandil." Syphax disappeared. Cethegus cast a look at the plan. "So they come from the north-west, down the hill. Woe to him who shall try to stop them there. Then comes the deep valley in which we are encamped. Here the battle will be fought and lost. Behind us, to the south-east, our position lies along a deep brook; into this we shall be inevitably thrown--the bridges cannot be defended. Then a stretch of flat country. What a fine field for the horsemen to pursue us! Finally, still farther back, a dense wood and a narrow pass with the ruined Castle of Hadrian. Marcus," he cried, as the latter entered the tent, "my troops will march at once. We shall go down along the brook into the wood; and you will tell whoever questions you that we march back to Rome." "March home, without fighting!" asked Marcus, astonished. "You surely know that a battle is pending?" "Just for that very reason!" And with these words Cethegus departed to wake Belisarius in his tent. But he found him already up. Procopius stood near him. "Do you know already. Prefect?" said Belisarius. "Fugitive country people say that a troop of horsemen approaches. The fools ride to their destruction; they think the road is open as far as Rome." And he continued to don his armour. "But the peasants also say that the horsemen are only the vanguard. A terrible army of barbarians follows," warned Procopius. "Vain rumours! These Goths are afraid; Witichis dare not meet me. I have protected the bridge over the Anio with a tower, fourteen miles this side Rome; Martinus has built it after my plan. That alone will hinder the barbarian foot-soldiers for more than a week, even should a few hacks manage to swim across the water." "You err, Belisarius. I know for a fact that the whole Gothic army approaches!" said Cethegus. "Then go home, if you fear it." "I will take advantage of this permission. I have had fever these last few days. And my Isaurians suffer from it also. With your leave, I will go back to Rome." "I know this fever," said Belisarius; "that is, I know it in others. It passes as soon as ditches and walls are between the patient and the enemy. Go, if you will; we need you as little as your Isaurians." Cethegus bowed, and left the tent. "We shall meet again, O Belisarius!" he said. "Give the signal for the march of my Isaurians," he called loudly to Marcus; "and to my Byzantines also," he added in a low voice. "But Belisarius has----" "_I_ am their Belisarius. Syphax, my horse." As he mounted, a troop of Roman horsemen galloped up; torches were carried before the leader. "Who goes there? Ah! you, Cethegus! What? you ride away? Your people march towards the river! You surely will not leave us now, in this time of imminent danger?" Cethegus bent forward. "Hoho! it is you, Calpurnius? I did not recognise you; you look so pale. What news from the front?" "Fugitive peasants say," answered Calpurnius anxiously, "that there are certainly more than a party of skirmishers. The King of the barbarians, Witichis himself, is on the march through the Sabine mountains. They have already reached the left bank of the Tiber. Resistance, then, is madness--destruction. I follow you; I will join your march." "No," said Cethegus harshly; "you know that I am superstitious. I do not like to ride with men who are doomed to the Furies. The punishment for your cowardly murder of that boy will surely overtake you. I have no desire to share it with you." "Yet voices in Rome whisper that Cethegus, too, does not shun an opportune murder," answered Calpurnius angrily. "Calpurnius is not Cethegus," retorted the Prefect, as he proudly pranced away. "Meanwhile, greet Hades for me," he added. CHAPTER VI. "Cursed omen!" growled Calpurnius. And he hastened to join Belisarius. "Command the retreat, quick, magister militum!" "Why, excellent Calpurnius?" "It is the King of the Goths himself!" "And I am Belisarius himself," answered the latter, as he donned his splendid helmet with its crest of white horse-hair. "How dare you leave your post in the vanguard?" "I wished to bring you the news, general." "Could no other messenger do that? Listen, Roman, you are unworthy of being liberated. You tremble, you coward heart! Return at once to the front. You will lead our horsemen to the first attack. You, Antallas and Kuturgur, take him between you. He _must_ be brave; do you hear? If he shrink--down with him. Thus Romans must be taught courage! The watchman has just announced the last hour of night. In another hour the sun will rise. Its first beams must find the whole army on yonder hills. Up! Ambuzach, Bessas, Constantinus, Demetrius, advance to meet the enemy!" "General, it is as they say," announced Maxentius, the most faithful of the lifeguards; "innumerable Goths are advancing." "There are two armies against us," reported Salomo, the leader of the hypaspistes of Belisarius. "I reckon Belisarius alone to be a whole army." "And the plan of attack?" asked Bessas. "That I will decide upon when in sight of the enemy, while Calpurnius arrests their progress with his horsemen. Forward! Give the signal. Bring Phalion out!" He left the tent. His generals, hypaspistes, pretorians, captains and lifeguards dispersed in all directions, in order to muster their men. In a quarter of an hour the whole army was in motion towards the hills. No time was lost in breaking up the camp, and the sudden movement caused endless confusion. Foot and horse got mingled together in the dark and moonless night. And rumours of the superiority of the advancing barbarians had also spread discouragement among the soldiers. Two rather narrow roads alone led to the hills, which circumstance caused much hindrance, and blocking of the way. Far later than the hour appointed by Belisarius, the army arrived in sight of the hills; and when the first beams of the sun shone upon them, Calpurnius, the leader of the vanguard, saw Gothic weapons glittering upon all the heights. The barbarians had been beforehand with Belisarius. Alarmed, Calpurnius halted, and sent word to the commander-in-chief. Belisarius plainly saw that Calpurnius and his horsemen could not storm the hills. He therefore gave orders that Ambazuch and Bessas, with the best of the Armenian foot-soldiers, should advance upon the broader road. The right and left wings of the army were led by Constantinus and Demetrius; he himself led up his body-guard as a reserve for the centre. Calpurnius, rejoiced at the change of plan, placed his horsemen below the steepest part of a hill, where he thought himself safe from an attack, and waited for the result of the movements of Ambazuch and Bessas, in order to pursue the flying Goths or support the retreating Armenians according to circumstances. On the summit of the heights the Goths placed themselves in an extended line of battle. Totila's horsemen had arrived the first; he was soon joined by Teja, mounted and feverish with thirst for battle. The axe-bearing foot were far behind, for Teja had begged permission to join in the hand-to-hand fight when and where he pleased. Hildebrand followed later; and lastly the King with the main army. Duke Guntharis, with his own and Teja's men, was expected to arrive shortly. Swift as an arrow Teja flew back to the King. "King," he cried, "beneath yonder hill stands Belisarius. By the God of Revenge, he is lost! He has been mad enough to advance. Do not suffer him to be beforehand with us in the attack." "Forward!" cried King Witichis; "the Goths to the front!" In a moment he had reached the edge of the hill and overlooked the valley at his feet. "Hildebad--the left wing! Thou, Totila, wilt charge in the centre with thy horsemen down that road. I shall keep the right, ready to follow or cover thee." "That will be needless," said Totila, drawing his sword. "I warrant that they will not be able to withstand my charge down that hill." "We shall drive the enemy back to the camp, take it, and force them into that shining brook just behind. Those who still remain, Totila and Teja, you will drive over the plain to Rome." "Yes, when we have won the pass in those wood-crowned hills just beyond the river," said Teja, pointing with his sword as he spoke. "It appears to be unoccupied; you must reach it before the fugitives," said Witichis. Just then the standard-bearer. Earl Wisand of Vulsinii, rode up to the King. "King, thou hast promised to grant me a request." "Yes, because at Solona, thou overthrewest the magister militum for Illyrium, Mundus, and his son." "I have a grudge against all magistri militum. I should like to try the same spear on Belisarius. Relieve me of my banner to-day, and allow me to seek the magister militum. He has a celebrated charger, Phalion or Balion, and my horse is getting stiff. And thou knowest the ancient right of a Gothic horseman. 'Throw the rider and take his horse.'" "A good old Gothic right," cried old Hildebrand. "I cannot refuse thy request," said Witichis, taking the flag from the hand of Wisand, who at once galloped away. "Guntharis is not here. Totila, thou shalt bear the banner to-day." "King," said Totila, "I cannot carry it if I am to show my horsemen the way to the enemy." Witichis signed to Teja. "Forgive me," said Teja, "to-day I need both hands." "Well then, Hildebad!" "Many thanks for the honour; but I do not intend to do worse than the others." "What?" cried Witichis, almost angry; "must I be my own standard-bearer? Will none of my friends honour my trust?" "Give me the flag of Theodoric," said old Hildebrand, grasping the mighty shaft. "It pleases me that the youths so thirst for fame. Give me the banner, I will defend it to-day as I did forty summers ago." And from that moment he rode at the King's right hand. "The enemy's foot are advancing up the hill," said Witichis, raising himself in the saddle. "They are Huns and Armenians," said Teja, looking forward with his eagle-eyes, "I recognise their long shields!" And spurring his horse, he cried: "And Ambazuch, the perjured murderer of Petra, leads them." "Forward, Totila!" cried the King; "and of _these_ troops--make no prisoners!" Totila rapidly galloped off to his horsemen, who were placed at the top of the steep road which led down the hill. He carefully examined the armour of the Armenians, who were slowly advancing up the ascent in close columns. They carried very long and heavy shields, and short spears for thrusting and throwing. "They must not have time to hurl their spears," cried Totila. He then ordered his horsemen, at the moment of encountering the enemy, to change their lances from their right hand to their left, letting their bridles hang loosely from the wrist, and passing their lances across the manes of their horses into the bridle hand. In this way they would hit the enemy on their unprotected side. "As soon as the encounter has taken place--they will not be able to withstand it--throw your lances back into the arm-strap, draw your swords, and kill whoever still stands." He now placed his men in the shape of a wedge on the road and on each side of it, outflanking the enemy's column. He himself led the thin edge of the wedge. He determined to allow the enemy to ascend halfway up the hill. Both parties looked forward to the shock in breathless expectation. Ambazuch, an experienced warrior, quietly marched forward. "Let them come on," he said to his people, "until you feel their horses' breath upon your faces. Then, and not before, hurl your lances. Aim low, at the breasts of the horses, and immediately after draw your swords. In this way I have always succeeded in overthrowing horsemen." But it turned out otherwise. For when Totila gave the order to charge, it seemed as if a thundering avalanche were descending the hill upon the terrified enemy. The shining, clattering, snorting, threatening mass rushed on like a hurricane, and before the first row of the Armenians had found time even to raise their spears, they lay upon the ground, pierced through by the long lances. They had been swept away as if they had never stood there. All this had taken place in a moment of time; and when Ambazuch was about to order his second line, in which he himself stood, to kneel and shorten their spears, he found it already ridden over; the third rank dispersed; and the fourth, under Bessas, able to offer but a faint resistance to the terrible horsemen, who now began to draw their swords. He tried to rally his men; he flew back and called to his wavering lines to stand and fight; but just then Totila's sword reached him; a mighty stroke crushed in his helmet. He fell on his knees, and held the hilt of his sword towards the Goth. "Take a ransom!" he cried. "I am yours!" Totila was about to stretch forth his hand to take the sword, when Teja cried: "Remember Petra!" A weapon flashed, and Ambazuch sank dead on the ground. At this the last lines of the Armenians, carrying Bessas away with them, fled in terror. Belisarius's vanguard was annihilated. With loud cries of joy King Witichis and his followers had witnessed Totila's victory. "Look! now the Hunnish horsemen, who stand just below us, advance against Totila," said the King to the old standard-bearer. "Totila turns to meet them. They are much more numerous. Up, Hildebad! Hasten down the road to his aid." "Ha!" cried old Hildebrand, bending forward in his saddle, and looking over the edge of the rocks, "who is that tribune between the two body-guards of Belisarius?" Witichis bent forward also. "Calpurnius!" he exclaimed with a sharp cry. And suddenly, seeking no path, just from where he stood, the King galloped down the hill towards his deadly enemy. The fear that Calpurnius might escape him overpowered every other thought. As if on wings, as if the God of Revenge were guiding him over bush and crevice and ditch and pointed rock, the King galloped madly on. For an instant the old master-at-arms was horrified; such a ride he had never beheld. But the next moment he waved his blue flag and cried: "Forward! follow your King!" And, the horsemen first, the foot after, the centre o£ the Gothic army, leaping, jumping, and sliding down upon their shields, suddenly descended the steep side of the hill upon the Hunnish cavalry. Calpurnius had looked up. It had seemed to him as if he heard his name, and the cry sounded like the last trump of judgment. He turned, and would have fled. But the grim soldiers on his right and left caught his bridle. "Halt, tribune!" said Antallas, pointing to Totila's horsemen--"_there_ is the enemy!" A cry of pain to the left caused him and Calpurnius to turn. The Hun Kuturgur, the second of the body-guards, sank with a crash from his saddle, felled by the sword-stroke of a Goth who appeared to have dropped from the sky. And behind this Goth, the rocky steep, which yet seemed inaccessible, was filled with climbing and leaping men, and the Huns were suddenly taken in the flank by this enemy from above, while at the same time they were attacked in front by Totila. Calpurnius recognised the Goth. "Witichis!" he cried in terror, and his arm fell powerless at his side. But his horse saved him. Wounded and startled by the fall of Kuturgur, it galloped wildly away. Antallas threw himself furiously upon the King of the Goths, who was far in advance of his men. "Down, madman!" he cried. But the next moment he was slain by Witichis, who irresistibly, trampled down all those who stood in his path. Through the crowd of Hunnish cavalry, who, terrified at his look, yielded to right and left, Witichis pursued Calpurnius. The latter had recovered the mastery of his horse, and now sought protection in the thickest press of his soldiers. In vain. Witichis did not lose sight of him for a moment, but followed him closely. However he might hide himself among his men, however rapidly he rode, Calpurnius could not escape the King, who beat down all who stood between him and the murderer of his son. Group after group, knot after knot, dissolved before the terrible sword of the revengeful father. The lines of the Huns were broken through by the fugitive and his pursuer. They were not able to close again, for, even before Totila could come up, the old standard-bearer, with horse and foot, had broken their right flank, dividing it into two parts. When Totila galloped up, he found only flying foes. The portion to the right was soon taken between Totila and Hildebrand, and destroyed. The greater part on the left fled back to Belisarius. Meantime Calpurnius galloped over the field as if pursued by the Furies. He had a good start, for Witichis had been seven times obliged to hew his way through the enemy. But Boreas galloped bravely on, and carried Witichis ever nearer to his victim. The fugitive heard the call to stand and fight. He only spurred his horse the faster. All at once it fell beneath him, and before he could rise, Witichis stood over him. Springing from his saddle, Witichis now silently pushed the sword of the fallen man, which had dropped from the latter's hand, towards him. Then Calpurnius took courage--the courage of despair. He rose to his feet, took up his sword, and sprang at the Goth with a leap like that of a tiger. But in the middle of his leap he fell prone to the ground; the sword of Witichis had split his forehead open. The King set his foot upon the breast of the corpse, and looked into the distorted face. He sighed deeply. "Revenge is sweet, but it will not bring back my child!" With deep ire Belisarius had witnessed this unhappy commencement of the battle. But his confidence and composure did not abandon him, even when he saw the Armenians swept away, and the horsemen of Calpurnius overthrown and scattered. He was now convinced of the strength and superiority of the enemy. But he determined to advance upon his whole line, leaving a gap in which to receive his fugitive horsemen. But this the Goths were quick to perceive; and, Witichis foremost, they followed Totila and Hildebrand--who had annihilated the surrounded Huns--and pressed forward so furiously that they threatened to reach and break through the lines of Belisarius at the same moment with the fugitives. This could not be permitted. Belisarius himself filled the gap with his bodyguard on foot, and shouted to the fugitive horsemen to halt and turn. But it seemed as if the terror which had possessed their cowardly and fallen leader had entered their hearts. They dreaded the sword of the Gothic King behind them even more than their thundering chief before them, and without pause or stay they rushed on at a gallop, as if they intended to ride down their own comrades. For one moment a fearful shock--a thousand-voiced cry of fear and rage--a confused turmoil of mingled horse and foot--among them slaughtering Goths--and suddenly a dispersal to all sides, amid shrill cries of victory from the enemy. The body-guard of Belisarius was ridden down; his main line of battle broken. He ordered the retreat to the camp. But it was no longer a retreat, it was a rout. The footmen of Hildebad, Guntharis, and Teja had now arrived upon the field of battle. The Byzantines saw their order of attack broken, they despaired of further resistance and fled in great confusion to the camp. Notwithstanding, they would still have been able to reach it a long time before their pursuers, had not an unforeseen occurrence stopped the way. Belisarius had set forth with such certainty of victory, that he had ordered all the carriages and baggage of the army, and even the herds of cattle--which, according to the custom of the time, were driven after--to follow the troops upon the high-roads. The retreating masses now encountered this slowly advancing body, difficult to move and difficult to disperse, and indescribable confusion ensued. Soldiers and drivers came to blows; the order of march was broken against the wagons, carriages, and chests. The lust of booty was awakened, and many of the soldiers began to plunder the wagons, before they should fall into the hands of the enemy. On all sides arose altercations, curses, laments, and throats, accompanied by the crash of broken wagons, and the bleating and bellowing of the terrified herds. "Sacrifice the baggage! Fire the wagons! Gallop through the herds!" cried Belisarius, who, sword in hand, now broke a path through the turmoil with the remnant of his body-guard. But it was all in vain. Ever thicker, ever more entangled became the coil; it seemed impossible to unravel it. Despair at length tore it asunder. The cry, "The barbarians are upon us!" sounded from the rear. And it was no idle rumour. Hildebad, with his foot-soldiers, had descended to the plain, and his foremost ranks now attacked the defenceless mass. There ensued a fearful press to the front; cries of terror--of rage from the body-guard, who, mindful of their former valour, attempted to fight, but could not--of anguish from those trampled and crushed; and suddenly the greater part of the wagons, with their teams and the thousands who were crowded upon them or jammed between them, fell with a thundering crash into the ditches on the right and left of the high-road. So at last the way was open--and impetuously, all discipline at an end, the stream of fugitives rushed on to the camp. With loud cries of victory the Gothic foot-soldiers followed, slaying their easy prey with arrows, slings, and spears; while Belisarius, in the rear, resisted with difficulty the unceasing attacks of Totila and the King. "Help, Belisarius!" cried Aigan, the leader of the Massagetian mercenaries, as he rode up from among the scattered groups, wiping the blood from his face. "My countrymen swear they see the devil amidst the enemy. They will not stand. Help me! Usually they fear you much more than the devil!" Grinding his teeth, Belisarius looked across at his right wing, which was flying in disorder over the fallows, pursued by the Goths. "O Justinian, my imperial master," he exclaimed, "how badly I keep my word!" And, entrusting the further defence of the retreat to the camp to Demetrius--for the uneven ground upon which they had now entered embarrassed the pursuit of the enemy's horse---he galloped across country with Aigan and his mounted guard to join the mercenaries. "Halt!" he thundered; "halt, you cowardly dogs! Who flies, when Belisarius stands? I am with you; turn and win!" And he raised his visor, and showed them his majestic countenance. And such was the power of his personality, so great the belief in his invincibility, that all who recognised the tall form of the commander on his roan, hesitated, halted, and with a cry of encouragement, turned once more to face the pursuing Goths. Here, at least, the flight was at an end. Up came a tremendous Goth, easily forcing his way. "Ha, ha! I am glad you are tired of running, you swift-footed Greeks! I could no longer pant after you! Your legs are superior to ours; let us see if your arms be so too. Ha! why do you fall back, my lads? Because of him on the roan? What of him?" "Sir, that must be a King among the southerners; one can hardly bear the glance of his angry eye." "That would indeed be curious. Ah! that must be Belisarius! I am glad to meet thee, thou bold hero!" he cried across to Belisarius. "Dismount, and let us measure the strength of our arms. Look, I too am on foot. Thou wilt not?" he cried angrily. "Must I fetch thee down from thy hack?" And he swung his immense spear in his right hand. "Turn, sir, avoid him!" cried Aigan: "that giant hurls small masts!" "Turn, general," repeated the hypaspistes anxiously. But Belisarius, raising his short sword, rode quietly a horse's length nearer to the Goth. Whizzing came the mighty spear, straight at his breast. But just before it touched, a swift stroke of his short Roman sword, and the spear fell harmless on one side. "Hail to Belisarius, hail!" cried the Byzantines, and they pressed forward anew. "A famous stroke!" laughed Hildebad angrily. "Let us see if thy fence can parry _this_!" And, bending forward, he lifted from the ploughed field an old jagged boundary-stone, swung it in both hands backward and forward, lifted it above his head, and hurled it with all his might at the advancing hero. A cry from the Byzantines--Belisarius fell backwards from his horse. All was over. "Belisarius down! Woe, woe! All is lost!" cried the Byzantines, as the tall form disappeared, and fled madly towards the camp. A few ran on without pause until they reached the gates of Rome. It was in vain that the lance and spear-bearers threw themselves desperately against the Goths; they could only save their chief, but not the battle. The first sword-stroke of Hildebad, who now rushed up to Belisarius, was received on the faithful breast of Maxentius. But also a Gothic horseman, who was the next to reach the place, and who had killed seven men before he could make his way to the magister militum, fell from his horse. His followers found him pierced by thirteen wounds. But he was still alive, and he was one of the few who fought through and outlived the whole war--Wisand, the bandelarius. Belisarius, who, lifted on to his horse by Aigan and Valentinus, his groom, had quickly recovered his senses, raised his general's staff in vain, and cried to the fugitives to stand. They could not and would not hear. In vain he struck at them right and left; he was irresistibly carried away by the press to the very camp. There, behind the solid gates, he at last succeeded in arresting the pursuit of the Goths. "All honour is lost," he said indignantly; "let us at least save our lives." With these words he closed the gates, without any regard to the large masses of people still outside. An attempt of Hildebad to enter the camp without more ado was frustrated by the strong oaken palisades, which defied the spears and stones hurled at them. Leaning on his sword, Hildebad cooled himself for a moment. Just then Teja, who, like the King and Totila, had long since dismounted, turned the corner of the wall, which he had been examining and measuring. "This confounded wooden fortress!" cried Hildebad, as Teja came up. "Neither stone nor iron can do any good here." "No," said Teja; "but fire can!" He stirred with his foot a heap of ashes which lay near. "These are from last night's watch-fires. Here are still some sparks, and brushwood lies near. Come, my men, put up your swords and kindle the brushwood. Set the camp on fire!" "Splendid fellow!" cried Hildebad rejoicingly. "Quick, lads! burn them out as you would a fox in his hole! The brisk north wind will help us!" The dying watch-fires were speedily fanned into flame; hundreds of fire-brands flew into the dry planks of the palisading. Very soon bright flames rose to the sky. The thick smoke, driven into the camp by the wind, blinded the Byzantines, and rendered the defence of the walls impossible. They retreated to the centre of the camp. "Oh that I were dead!" sighed Belisarius. "Evacuate the camp! Out by the Porta Decumana! Retreat in good order to the bridges behind us!" But the command to leave the camp broke the last ties of discipline and order. While the charred beams of the gate fell under the thundering strokes of Teja's axe, and the Black Earl was the first to spring into the camp through the flames and smoke, the fugitives tore open all the gates which led to Rome, and hastened in confused masses to the river. The first comers reached the two bridges unhindered and unfollowed. They had some time to spare before Hildebad and Teja could compel Belisarius to leave the burning camp. But suddenly--oh, horror!--the Gothic horns sounded close at hand. Witichis and Totila, as soon as they knew that the camp was taken, had mounted at once, and now led their horsemen from the right and left, to attack the fugitives in the flank. Belisarius had just galloped out of the camp by the Decumanian Gate, and was hurrying to one of the bridges, when he saw the threatening troops of horsemen rushing up on both sides. The great general still preserved his composure. "Forwards at a gallop to the bridges!" he commanded his Saracens; "defend them!" It was too late. A dull crash; then a second--the two narrow bridges had broken beneath the weight of the crowding fugitives, and by hundreds the Hunnish horsemen and the Illyrian lance-bearers--Justinian's pride--fell into the marshy waters. Without reflecting, Belisarius, who had just reached the steep bank, spurred his horse into the foaming blood-flecked river, and swam to the other side. "Salomo," he said to one of his pretorians, as soon as he had landed, "take a handful of my guards and gallop as hard as you can to the pass. Ride over the fugitives; you must reach it before the Goths! Do you hear? You _must_! It is our last plank of salvation!" Salomo and Dagisthæos obeyed, and galloped away as swift as the wind. Belisarius collected together all whom he could reach. The Goths, as well as the Byzantines, were detained for a time by the river. But suddenly Aigan cried: "Salomo is returning!" "General," cried Salomo, as he galloped up, "all is lost! Weapons glitter in the pass! It is already occupied by the Goths!" For the first time on this unhappy day Belisarius started. "The pass lost? Then not a man of my Emperor's army will escape. Then farewell fame, Antonina, and life! Come, Aigan, draw your sword; let me not fall living into the hands of the barbarians." "General," said Aigan, "I have never heard you speak thus!" "I have never before felt thus. Let us dismount and die!" He was taking his left foot out of the stirrup, in order to spring from his horse, when Dagisthæos galloped up. "Be comforted, my general! The pass is ours--it is Roman weapons that we saw there. It is Cethegus, the Prefect; he occupied the pass in secret!" "Cethegus?" cried Belisarius. "Is it possible? Is it certain?" "Yes, my general. Look! It was high time!" It was indeed. For a troop of Gothic horsemen, sent by King Witichis, had arrived at the pass, crossing the river by a ford, before the fugitives. But just as they were about to enter it, Cethegus, at the head of his Illyrians, broke out of his ambush, and, after a short combat, drove back the surprised Goths. "The first gleam of victory on this black day!" cried Belisarius. "Up! to the pass!" And, in better order than before, the commander led his newly-rallied troops to the woody hill. "Welcome to safety, Belisarius," cried Cethegus, as he cleansed the blade of his sword. "I have waited for you here since daybreak. I was sure that you would come." "Prefect of Rome," said Belisarius, reaching out his hand, as he sat on his horse, "you have saved the Emperor's army, which I had lost. I thank you!" The Prefect's fresh troops stood in the pass like an impenetrable wall, allowing the scattered Byzantines to pass, and repelling without difficulty the attacks of the first fatigued pursuers, who pressed forward over the river. At the close of day. King Witichis withdrew his troops to pass the night on the conquered field, while Belisarius and his generals, at the back of the pass, mustered, as well as they could, the scattered remnants of the army as they arrived, singly or in groups. As soon as Belisarius had once more a few thousand men together, he rode up to Cethegus, and said: "What think you, Prefect of Rome? Your men are still fresh, and mine have yet to blunt their weapons. Let us sally forth once more, and turn the fortune of this day. The sun will not set yet awhile." Cethegus looked at him with astonishment, and quoted Homer's words: "'Truly thou hast spoken a terrible word, thou mighty one!' You never-to-be-satisfied man! Is it so hard for you to leave a battle-field without victory? No, Belisarius. There beckon the ramparts of Rome. Thither lead your harassed men. I will keep the pass until you have reached the city; and I shall be glad if I can succeed in doing so." And so it was arranged. Under such circumstances Belisarius was less than ever able to oppose the will of the Prefect. So he yielded, and led his army back to Rome, where he arrived at nightfall. For a long time he was refused admittance; for, covered with dust and blood, it was difficult to recognise him, and many fugitives had brought word from the field of battle that the commander had fallen, and that all was lost. At last Antonina, who waited anxiously upon the walls, recognised her husband. He was admitted at the Pincian Gate, which was afterwards named Porta Belisaria. Beacons on the walls, between the Flaminian and Pincian Grates, announced his entrance to Cethegus, who then, under cover of night, accomplished his retreat in good order, scarcely followed by the wearied victors. Teja alone, with a few of his horsemen, pressed forward to the hilly country, where the Villa Borghese is now situated, and as far as the Aqua Acetosa. CHAPTER VII. The following day the immense army of the Goths appeared before the walls of the Eternal City, which it surrounded in seven camps. And now began that memorable siege, which was to develop the military talent and inventive genius of Belisarius no less than the courage of the besiegers. The citizens of Rome had with consternation beheld from the walls the interminable march of the Goths. "Look, Prefect, they outflank all your walls." "Yes, in breadth! but in height? They cannot get over them without wings." Witichis had left only two thousand men behind in Ravenna; eight thousand he had sent, under Earl Uligis of Urbssalvia, and Earl Ansa of Asculum, to Dalmatia, to wrest that province and Liburnia from the Byzantines, and to reconquer the strong fortress of Salona. These troops were to be reinforced by mercenaries recruited in Savia. The Gothic fleet--against Teja's advice--was also to repair thither, and not to Portus, the harbour of Rome. But the King now surrounded, with a hundred and fifty thousand warriors, the city of Rome and its far-stretching ramparts, the walls of Aurelian and the Prefect. Rome had at that time fifteen principal gates and a few smaller ones. The weaker part of the ramparts--the space between the Flaminian Gate in the north (on the east of the present Porta del Popolo) to the Prænestinian Gate--was completely surrounded by six camps, thus: the walls from the Flaminian Gate eastwards as far as the Pincian and Salarian Gates; then to the Nomentanian Gate (south-east of Porta Pia); farther towards the "closed gate," or Porta Clausa; and finally southwards, the Tiburtinian (now Porta San Lorenzo), the Asinarian, Metronian, and Latin Gates (on the Via Latina), the Appian Gate (on the Via Appia), and the St. Paul's Gate, which lay close to the Tiber. These six camps were erected on the left bank of the river. But in order to prevent the besieged from destroying the Milvian Bridge, and thus cutting off the way across the river and the whole district from the right bank as far as the sea, the Goths erected a seventh camp upon the right bank of the Tiber, on the "field of Nero," which reached from the Vatican Hill nearly to the Milvian Bridge (under Monte Mario). So this bridge was dominated, and that of Hadrian threatened, by a Gothic camp, as well as the road to the city through the "Porta Sancti Petri," as the inner Aurelian Gate, according to Procopius, was already called at that time. It was the entrance nearest to the Mausoleum of Hadrian. But also the gate of St. Pancratius, on the right bank of the river, was especially watched by the Goths. This camp upon the field of Nero, between the Pancratian and Peter's Gates, had been assigned to Earl Markja of Mediolanum, who had been recalled from the Cottian Alps. But the King himself often repaired thither in order to examine the Mausoleum. He had undertaken the command of no particular camp, reserving to himself the general supervision; and he had divided the other six camps between Hildebrand, Totila, Hildebad, Teja, Guntharis, and Grippa. He caused each of the seven camps to be surrounded with a deep moat, throwing up the excavated earth in high banks between the moat and camp, and strengthening them with stout palisades, as a protection against sallies from the city. Belisarius and Cethegus also divided their generals and their men according to the sections and gates of Rome. Belisarius confided the defence of the Prænestinian Gate in the eastern quarter (now Porta Maggiore) to Bessas, and the important Flaminian Gate, close to which lay the camp of Totila, to Constantinus, who caused it to be almost closed with blocks of marble, taken from ancient temples and palaces. The Prefect jealously kept the western and southern quarters of the city under his own strict surveillance, but in the north Belisarius settled down between the Flaminian and Pincian--or now "Belisarian"--Gates (the weakest part of the ramparts), and formed plans of sallies against the barbarians. The remaining gates were entrusted to the leaders of the foot-soldiers: Piranius, Magnus, Ennes, Artabanes, Azarethas, and Chilbudius. The Prefect had undertaken the defence of all the gates on the right bank of the Tiber; the new Porta Aurelia on the Ælisian Bridge near the Mausoleum, the Porta Septimiana, the old Aurelian Gate, which was now named the Pancratian; and on the left bank, that of St. Paul. The next gate to the east, the Ardeatinian, was again under the protection of a Byzantine garrison, commanded by Chilbudius. The besiegers and the besieged proved themselves equally indefatigable and equally inventive in plans of attack and defence. For a long time the only thing the Goths could attempt was to harass the Romans before storming the walls. On their side, the Romans prepared to defend them when attacked. The Goths--lords and masters in the Campagna--sought to distress the besieged by cutting off all the fourteen splendid aqueducts which supplied the city with water. As soon as Belisarius learned this fact, he hastened to block the mouths of the aqueducts within the city. "For," Procopius had said to him, "since you, O great hero, Belisarius, have crept into Neapolis through such a water-runnel, the same idea might occur to the barbarians, and they would scarcely think it a shame to crawl into Rome by a similar hero-path." The besieged were now obliged to deny themselves the luxury of their baths; the wells in the quarters of the city at a distance from the river scarcely sufficed for drinking water. But by cutting off the supply of water, the barbarians had also deprived the Romans of bread. At least it seemed so, for all the water-mills of Rome were stopped. The garnered grain bought in Sicily by Cethegus, and that which Belisarius had, by force, caused to be brought into Rome from all the neighbouring country, in spite of the outcry of farmers and husbandmen, could no longer be ground. "Let the mills be turned by asses and oxen!" cried Belisarius. "Most of the asses and oxen were too wise to allow themselves to be shut up with us here, O Belisarius," said Procopius; "we have only as many as we shall want for the shambles, and it is impossible that they should first drive the mills and then be still fat enough to afford meat to eat with the bread thus gained." "Then call Martinus. Yesterday, as I stood by the Tiber counting the Gothic tents, I had an idea----" "Which Martinus must translate from the Belisarian into the possible! Poor man! But I will go and fetch him." But when, on the evening of the same day, Belisarius and Martinus caused the first boat-mills that the world had ever known to be erected in the Tiber, by means of boats ranged one near the other, Procopius said admiringly: "The bread of these boat-mills will rejoice men longer than your greatest deeds. Flour, ground in this wise, savours of immortality." And indeed these boat-mills, imagined by Belisarius and practically carried out by Martinus, fully compensated to the besieged, during the whole siege, for the loss of the powerless water-mills. Behind the bridge which is now called Ponte San Sisto, on the flat of the Janiculum, Belisarius caused two boats to be fastened with ropes, and laid mills over their flat decks, so that the wheels were driven by the river, which streamed from between the arches of the bridge with increased force. The besiegers, who were informed of these arrangements by deserters from the city, soon attempted to destroy them. They threw beams, rafts, and trees into the river above the bridge, and in a single night all the mills were destroyed. But Belisarius caused them to be reconstructed, and ordered strong chains to be drawn across the river above the bridge, which caught and arrested everything that floated down. These iron river-bolts were not only intended to protect the mills, but also to prevent the Goths from reaching the city on boats or rafts. For now Witichis began to make preparations for storming the city. He caused wooden towers, higher than the ramparts, to be built, which, placed upon four wheels, could be drawn by oxen. Then he caused storming-ladders to be prepared in great numbers, and four tremendous rams or wall-breakers, which were each pushed and served by fifty men. The deep moats were to be filled up with countless bundles of brushwood and reeds. To defeat these plans, Belisarius and Cethegus, the first defending the city in the north and east, the latter in the west and south, planted catapults and other projectile machines on the walls, which were able to cast immense spears to a great distance, with such force that they could pierce the strongest coat of mail. They protected the gates by means of "wolves," that is, cross-beams set with iron spikes, which were let crashing down upon the assaulters as soon as the latter approached the gate. And, lastly, they strewed innumerable caltrops and steel-traps upon the space between the town-moats and the camp of the besiegers. CHAPTER VIII. In spite of all this, it was said by the Romans that the Goths would long since have climbed the walls, had it not been for the Prefect's "Egeria." For, strange to say, each time the barbarians prepared an assault, Cethegus went to Belisarius and warned him of the day and hour. Whenever Teja or Hildebad attempted to carry a gate by storm or sweep away a redoubt--Cethegus foretold their coming, and the assaulters met with double the usual number of defenders at that particular point. Whenever the chains across the Tiber were to be broken in a night surprise--Cethegus seemed to have guessed it, and sent fire-brands and fire-ships against the boats of the enemy. So passed many months. The Goths could not hide from themselves the fact that, in spite of continual assaults, they had made no progress since the commencement of the siege. For a long time they bore with patience the betrayal and frustration of their plans. But by degrees discontent not only began to spread in the army, especially as now the scarcity of provisions made itself felt, but also the King's mind was darkened with deep melancholy when he found all his strength, perseverance, and military science rendered vain. And when he returned to his royal tent from some thwarted undertaking, some abortive assault, the haughty eyes of his Queen rested on him with a mysterious and terrible expression, from which he turned away with a shudder. "All has happened as I foretold," Witichis said gloomily to Teja; "with Rauthgundis my good-fortune has forsaken me, as joy has forsaken my heart. It is if a curse rested upon my crown. And this daughter of the Amelungs, silent and gloomy, follows me like misfortune personified." "Thou mayst be right," answered Teja; "perhaps I can break the spell. Grant me leave of absence to-night." On the same day, almost at the same hour, Johannes, in Rome, asked Belisarius for leave of absence for that night. Belisarius refused to grant it. "It is no time for midnight pleasures," said he. "It will be small pleasure to spy amongst damp old walls and Gothic lances for a fox who is ten times slyer than either of us." "What do you think of doing?" asked Belisarius, becoming attentive. "What do I intend to do? To make an end of the cursed position in which we are all placed, and you, O General, not the least. All goes well. For months the barbarians have been encamped before these walls, and have accomplished nothing. We shoot them as easily as boys shoot crows from behind a hedge, and can laugh at them and all their efforts. But who has accomplished all this? Not, as would be right, you, the Emperor's commander-in-chief, not the Emperor's army, but this icy Roman, who can only laugh when he scoffs. He sits up there in the Capitol and mocks at the Emperor, the Goths and us, and most of all, give me leave to say, at you. How does this Ulysses and Ajax in one person know so exactly all the plans of the Goths? By means of his demons, say some. Through his Egeria, say others. And some maintain that he has a raven which can speak and understand like a human being, and that he sends it every night into the Gothic camp. Old women and Romans may believe such things, but not the son of my mother! I think I know both the raven and the demons. It is certain that the Prefect can only learn what he knows in the Gothic camp; let us see if we cannot use that source as well as he." "I thought of this long since, but I saw no possibility of carrying out my idea." "My Huns have watched all the Prefect's movements. It is cursedly difficult, for his brown Moor follows him like his shadow. But sometimes Syphax is absent for days together, and then it is easier: so I have found out that Cethegus often leaves the city at night, sometimes by the Gate of Portuensis, sometimes by the Gate of St. Paul. He commands the guard of both these gates. Farther my spies dared not follow him. But to-night--for to-night the time has come again--I have a mind to stick to his heels. But I must wait for him _outside_ the gate, for his Isaurians would never let me pass. I shall make a round of the walls, and remain behind in one of the trenches." "'Tis well. But, as you say, there are two gates to be watched." "Yes; and so I have engaged Perseus, my brother, to be my fellow-spy. He will watch the Gate of St. Paul, I the Portuensian Gate. You may depend upon it, that before sunrise to-morrow one or other of us will know who is the Prefect's Egeria." Exactly opposite the Gate of St. Paul, at about three arrow-shots, distance from the outermost trench of the city, lay a large and ancient building, the Basilica Sancti Pauli extra muros, or St. Paul's outside the walls, which only completely disappeared at the time of the siege of Rome by the Connétable of Bourbon. Originally a temple dedicated to Jupiter Stator, it had been consecrated to the Apostle two centuries before the time of which we speak, but the bronze colossal statue of the bearded god still stood erect; only the flaming thunderbolts had been taken from its right hand, and a crucifix put in their place; otherwise the sturdy and bearded figure was well suited to its new name. It was the sixth hour of the night. The moon shone brightly above the Eternal City, and shed her silver light upon the battlements and the plain between the Roman ramparts and the Basilica, the black shadow of which fell towards the Gothic camp. The guard at the Gate of St. Paul had just been relieved. But seven men had gone out, and only six re-entered. The seventh turned his back to the gate and walked out into the open field. Cautiously he chose his path: cautiously he avoided the numerous steel-traps, covered pits and self-shooting poisoned arrows which were strewn everywhere about, and which had already brought destruction to many a Goth while assaulting the city. This man appeared to know them all, and easily avoided them. He also carefully shunned the moonlight, seeking the shade of the jutting bastions, and springing from one tree to another. After crossing the outermost trench, he remained standing in the shadow of a cypress, the boughs of which, had been shattered by a catapult, and looked about him. He could see nothing far and near, and at once hurried with rapid steps towards the church. Had he looked round once more, he surely would not have done so. For, as soon as he left the tree, a second figure rose from the trench, and reached the shade of the cypress in three leaps. "I have won, Johannes! This time fortune favours the younger brother!" said this personage. And he cautiously followed the man, who was rapidly walking on. But suddenly he lost sight of him; it seemed as if the earth had swallowed him up. And when he had reached the outer wall of the church, where the man had disappeared, the Armenian (for it was Perseus) could discover neither door nor any other opening. "No doubt about it," he said to himself, "the appointment has been made within the temple. I must follow." But at that place the wall could not be climbed. The spy turned a corner, feeling the stones. In vain. The wall was of the same height everywhere. He lost about a quarter of an hour in this search. At last he found a gap; with difficulty he squeezed himself through. And now he found himself in the outer court of the old temple, across which the thick Doric columns threw broad shadows, under cover of which he succeeded in reaching the centre and principal building. He peeped through a chink in the wall, which a current of air had betrayed to him. Within all was dark. But suddenly he was blinded by a dazzling light. When he again opened his eyes, he saw a bright stripe amid the darkness; it issued from a dark lantern, the light of which had been suddenly uncovered. He could distinctly see whatever stood in the line of light; but not the bearer of the lantern. He saw Cethegus the Prefect, who stood close to the statue of the Apostle, and appeared to be leaning against it. In front of him stood a second form, that of a slender woman, upon whose auburn hair fell the glittering light of the lantern. "The lovely Queen of the Goths, by Eros and Anteros!" said the spy to himself. "No disagreeable meeting, be it for love or politics! Hark! she speaks. What a pity that I came too late to hear the beginning of the conversation!" "Therefore, mark well," he heard the Queen say, "the day after to-morrow some great danger is planned to take place on the road before the Tiburtinian Gate." "Good; but what!" asked the voice of the Prefect. "I could learn nothing more exactly. And I can communicate nothing more to you, even if I should hear anything. I dare not meet you here again, for----" She now spoke in a lower tone. Perseus pressed his ear hard against the chink; his sword rattled against the stone, and immediately a ray of the lantern fell upon him. "Hark!" cried a third voice--it was a female voice, that of the bearer of the lantern, who now showed herself in its rays as she quickly turned in the direction of the wall where stood the spy. Perseus recognised a slave in Moorish costume. For one moment all in the temple were silent. Perseus held his breath. He felt that his life was at stake. For Cethegus grasped his sword. "All is quiet," said the slave; "it must have been a stone falling on the iron-work outside." "I can also go no more into the grave outside the Portuensian Gate. I fear that we have been followed." "By whom?" "By one who, as it seems, never sleeps--Earl Teja." The Prefect's lips twitched. "And he is also one of a secret company who have sworn an oath against the life of Belisarius; the attack on the Gate of St. Paul will be only a feint." "'Tis well," said Cethegus reflectively. "Belisarius could never escape, if he were not warned," continued the Queen. "They lie somewhere, I fear--but I do not know where--in ambush. They have a superior force, Earl Totila commands them." "I will take care to warn him!" said Cethegus slowly. "If the plan should succeed!" "Be not anxious. Queen. Rome is not less dear to me than to you. And if the next assault fail--they must renounce the siege, be they never so tough. And this Queen, is your doing. Let me this night--perhaps the last on which we meet--reveal to you my wonder and admiration. Cethegus does not easily admire, and where he must, he does not easily confess it. But--I admire you, Queen! With what death-despising temerity, with what demoniac cunning you have frustrated all the plots of the barbarians! Truly, Belisarius has done much--Cethegus more--but Mataswintha most." "Would that you spoke truth!" said Mataswintha with sparkling eyes. "And if the crown falls from the head of this culprit----" "It is _your_ hand which has decided the fate of Rome. But, Queen, you cannot be satisfied with this alone. I have learned to know you these last few months--you must not be taken, a conquered Gothic Queen, to Byzantium. Such beauty, such a mind, such force of will must rule, and not serve, in Byzantium. Therefore reflect--when your tyrant is overthrown--will you not then follow the course which I have pointed out to you?" "I have never yet thought of what will follow," she answered gloomily. "But I have thought for you. Truly, Mataswintha"--and his eyes rested upon her with fervent admiration--"you are marvellously beautiful. I consider it as my greatest merit that even your beauty is not able to kindle my passions and seduce me from my plans. But you are too beautiful, too charming, to live alone for hatred and revenge. When our aim is reached, then to Byzantium! You will then be more than Empress--you will be the vanquisher of the Empress!" "When my aim is reached, my life is completed. Do you think I could bear the thought of having destroyed my people for mere ambition, for prudent ends? No--I did it only because I could no other. Revenge is now all to me, and----" Just then there sounded loud and shrill from the front of the building, but yet within the walls, the cry of the screech-owl; once--twice--in rapid succession. How amazed was Perseus to see the Prefect hurriedly press his finger upon the throat of the statue against which he was leaning, and to see it immediately and noiselessly divide into two parts. Cethegus slipped, into the opening, which slowly closed again. Mataswintha and Aspa sank upon the steps of the altar, as if in prayer. "So it was a signal! Danger is near," thought the spy. "But where is the danger? and where the warner?" And he turned and stepped from beneath the wall, looking to the left, on which side the Gothic camp was situated. But in doing so he stepped into the moonlight, and in sight of Syphax, the Moor, who stood in an empty niche before the entrance of the building, and who, until now, had also been looking sharply in the direction of the camp. From thence a man walked slowly forward. His battle-axe glittered in the moonlight. But Perseus saw a second weapon flash; it was the sword of the Moor, as he softly drew it from its sheath. "Ha!" laughed Perseus; "before those two have done with each other, I shall be in Rome with my secret." And he ran towards the gap in the wall of the court by which he had entered. For a moment Syphax looked doubtfully to right and left. To the right he saw a man escaping, whom he had only now discovered; to the left a Gothic warrior, who was just entering the court of the temple. It was impossible to reach and kill both. He suddenly called aloud: "Teja, Earl Teja! Help, help! A Roman! Save the Queen! There, near the wall on the right--a Roman!" In a moment Teja stood at Syphax's side. "There!" cried Syphax. "I will protect the women in the church!" and he rushed into the temple. "Stand, Roman!" cried Teja, and rushed after Perseus. But Perseus would not stand. He ran along the wall; he reached the gap, but in his hurry he could not force himself through. With the strength of despair he swung himself up upon the wall, and was already drawing up his feet to jump down on the other side, when Teja cast his battle-axe, and struck him on the head. Perseus, together with his secret, fell back dead. Teja bent over him; he could distinctly see the features of the dead man. "The Archon Perseus," he said, "the brother of Johannes." He left the corpse, and at once ascended the steps which led into the church. On the threshold he was met by Mataswintha. Behind her came Syphax, and Aspa with the lantern. For a moment Teja and Mataswintha measured each other with distrustful looks. "I must thank thee, Earl Teja of Tarentum," at last the Princess said. "I was in danger while pursuing my lonely devotions." "A strange place and time for thee to choose for thy prayers. Let us see if this Roman was the only enemy." He took the light from Aspa's hand, and went into the chapel. Presently he returned, a leathern shoe, inlaid with gold, in his hand. "I found nothing--but this sandal by the altar, close to the statue of the Apostle. It is a man's shoe." "A votive offering of mine," said Syphax quickly. "The Apostle healed my foot, which a thorn had wounded." "I thought the Snake-god was thine only god?" "I worship whatever can help me." "In which foot did the thorn wound thee?" For a moment Syphax hesitated. "In the right foot," he then answered. "It is a pity," said Teja, "the sandal is for the left foot." And he put it into his belt. "I warn thee, Queen, against such midnight devotions." "I shall do my duty," answered Mataswintha harshly. "And I mine!" With these words Teja turned, and led the way to the camp. Silently the Queen and her slaves followed. At sunrise Teja stood before the King and told him everything. "What thou sayest is no proof," said Witichis. "But a strong cause of suspicion. And thou thyself hast told me that the conduct of the Queen was mysterious." "Just for that reason I must guard myself against acting on mere suspicion. I often fear that we have acted wrongly by her, almost as much so as by Rauthgundis." "Possibly. But these midnight walks?" "I shall put an end to them, were it only for her own sake." "And the Moor? I mistrust him. I know that he is often absent for days together; afterwards appearing again in the camp. He is a spy." "Yes, friend," said Witichis, with a smile; "but he is my spy. He goes in and out of Rome with my knowledge. It is he who betrays all their plans to me." "And yet it has done no good? And the false sandal?" "It is really a votive offering. Before thou camest, Syphax confessed all to me. Once, as he was waiting for the Queen, he got weary, and began to rummage in a vault of the church; and there he found, amongst all sorts of things, some priestly garments and hidden treasures, which he stole. Later, fearing the wrath of the saint, he wished to atone, and offered up in his heathen manner this golden sandal from his booty. He described it to me exactly. With golden side-stripes, and an agate button engraved with the letter C. Thou seest that it is so. Therefore he knew it well, and it cannot have been dropped by a fugitive. He has promised to bring the fellow-shoe as a proof. But, more than all, he has discovered to me a new plan, which will put an end to all our trouble, and deliver Belisarius himself into our hands." CHAPTER IX. While the King of the Goths communicated this plan to his friends, Cethegus, in the early morning, was summoned to speak with Belisarius and Johannes. "Prefect of Rome," cried the general in a severe tone, as Cethegus entered his quarters, "where were you last night?" "At my post, as was my duty. At the Gate of St. Paul." "Do you know that, last night, one of my best leaders, Perseus the archon and the brother of Johannes here, left the city and has not been seen since?" "I am sorry for it. But you know that it is forbidden to leave the walls without permission." "But I have reason to believe," interposed Johannes, "that you very well know what has become of my brother; that his blood is on your hands." "And by the slumber of Justinian," cried Belisarius angrily, "you shall answer for it! You shall no longer tyrannise over the Emperor's army and the Emperor's generals. The hour of reckoning has come. The barbarians are almost defeated, and we shall see if, when _your_ head falls, the Capitol will still stand!" "Do matters stand thus?" thought Cethegus. "Then take care, Belisarius!" But he remained silent. "Speak!" cried Johannes; "where did you kill my brother?" But before Cethegus could reply, Artasines, one of Belisarius's body-guards, entered the room. "Sir," he said, "outside are six Gothic warriors. They have brought the corpse of Perseus the archon. King Witichis sends you word that Perseus fell last night without the walls, struck by Earl Teja's axe. He sends the body, that you may inter it with all honour." "Heaven itself," said Cethegus, as he left the room with haughty steps, "gives the lie to your malice!" But slowly and reflectively he passed the Quirinal and went across the Forum of Trajan to his dwelling. "You threaten, Belisarius? Thanks for the hint! Let us see if we cannot do without you!" Arrived at his house, he found Syphax, who had been waiting for him impatiently. Syphax quickly made his report, and concluded: "But first of all, sir, let the slaves who tie your sandals be whipped! You see how badly you are served when Syphax is absent. And be so kind as to give me your right shoe." "Properly I should refuse to do so, and let you remain in suspense, to punish you for your impudent lies," laughed the Prefect. "This piece of leather is worth your life, my panther! How will you ransom it?" "With important news. I now know all the particulars of the plan against the life of Belisarius; the place and time, and the names of the confederates. They are--Teja, Totila, and Hildebad." "Each one of whom is a match for the magister militum," remarked Cethegus, with evident pleasure. "I think, sir, that you have prepared another nice trap for the barbarians! According to your order, I have told them that Belisarius himself will sally out from the Tiburtinian Gate to-morrow, in order to forage for supplies." "Yes; he goes himself because the Huns, who have so often been beaten, will not again venture out alone. He will take only four hundred men." "And the three confederates will place an ambush of a thousand men in order to surprise Belisarius." "This news is really worth the shoe!" said Cethegus, and threw it to Syphax. "Meanwhile King Witichis will make a feigned assault upon the Gate of St. Paul, in order to divert attention from Belisarius. So I will now hasten to the latter, as you ordered, and tell him to take three thousand men with him, and destroy the confederates and their band." "Stop," said Cethegus quietly; "do not be in such a hurry. You will tell him nothing." "What?" asked Syphax in surprise. "If he be not warned, he will be lost!" "One must not always interfere with the commander's guardian angel. To-morrow Belisarius may prove his good fortune." "Aye, aye," said Syphax, with a cunning smile, "is such your pleasure? Then I would rather be Syphax the slave than Belisarius the magister militum. Poor widowed Antonina!" Cethegus was just about to stretch himself upon his couch for a short rest, when Fidus, the ostiarius, announced: "Kallistratos, of Corinth!" "Always welcome!" The young Greek with the gentle countenance entered. A flush of shame or pleasure coloured his cheeks; it was evident that some special cause had led him to the Prefect. "What of beauty do you bring besides yourself?" asked Cethegus in the Grecian tongue. The Greek looked up with sparkling eyes. "A heart full of admiration for you, and the wish to prove it to you. I beg for permission to fight for you and Rome, like the two Licinii and Piso." "My Kallistratos! What have you, our peaceful guest, the most amiable of Greeks, to do with our bloody business with the Goths? Leave such hard work alone, and cherish your bright inheritance--beauty!" "I know well that the days of Salamis have become a myth, and that you iron Romans have never believed in our strength. That is hard; but yet it is easier to bear, because it is you who defend our world of art and noble customs against the dull barbarians; you--that is, Rome, and to me Cethegus is Rome. As such, I understand this struggle, and, understanding it thus, you see that it also concerns the Hellenes." The Prefect smiled with pleasure. "Well, if to you Cethegus is Rome, then Rome gladly accepts the help of the Hellenes. Henceforward you are a tribune of the Milites Romani, like Licinius." "My deeds shall thank you. But I must confess one thing more; for I know that you do not love to be surprised. I have often seen how dear to you is the Mausoleum of Hadrian, with its treasure of statues. Lately I counted these marble gods, and found that there were two hundred and ninety-eight. I have made the third hundred complete by placing amongst them my two Letoides, Apollo and Artemis, which you praised so highly. They are a votive offering to you and Rome." "Dear, extravagant youth!" said Cethegus. "What have you done?" "That which is right and beautiful," answered Kallistratos simply. "But reflect; the Mausoleum is now a fortress. If the Goths storm----" "The Letoides stand upon the second and inner wall; and how can I fear that the barbarians will ever again conquer the favourite place of Cethegus? Where can the beauteous gods be more secure than in your citadel? Your fortress is their best, because safest, temple. My offering shall be at the same time a happy omen." "It shall!" cried Cethegus with animation. "And I myself believe that your gift is well protected. But allow me, in return----" "In return you have allowed me to fight for you. Chaire!" laughed the Greek, and was gone. "The boy loves me dearly," said Cethegus. "And I am like other human fools--it does me good; and that not merely because I can thereby rule him." Heavy footsteps were now heard upon the marble of the vestibule, and a tribune of the army entered. It was a young Roman with noble features, but of a graver expression than his years warranted. His cheek-bones made a right angle with his straight and severe brow, in true Roman outline; in the deep-sunk eyes lay Roman strength and--at this moment--resolute earnestness, and a self-will regardless of all but itself. "Aha! Severinus, son of Boëthius! Welcome, my young hero and philosopher! I have not seen you for many months. Whence come you?" "From the grave of my mother!" answered Severinus, with a fixed look at the questioner. Cethegus sprang from his seat. "What! Rusticiana? The friend of my youth? The wife of my Boëthius?" "She is dead," said the son shortly. The Prefect would have taken his hand, but Severinus withdrew it. "My son! my poor Severinus! And did she die--without a word for me?" "I bring you her last words--they concern you!" "How did she die? Of what illness?" "Of grief and remorse." "Grief!" sighed Cethegus; "that I understand. But why should she feel remorse? And her last word was for me? Tell me, what did she say?" Severinus approached the Prefect so closely that he touched his knee, and looking piercingly into his eyes, he answered: "She said, 'A curse, a curse upon Cethegus, who poisoned my child!" Cethegus looked at him quietly. "Did she die delirious?" he coldly asked. "No, murderer! Her delirium was to trust in you! In the hour of her death she confessed to Cassiodorus and to me that it was her hand which administered the poison--with which you had furnished her--to the young tyrant. She told us all the circumstances. She was supported as she spoke by old Corbulo and his daughter, Daphnidion. 'Too late I learned,' she concluded, 'that my child had drunk of the deadly cup. And there was no one to hold Camilla's hand as she took it; for I was still in the boat upon the sea, and Cethegus was in the plantain-alley.' Then old Corbulo called out, turning pale, 'What! did the Prefect know that the cup contained poison?' 'Certainly,' answered my mother; 'for, as I left the garden, I had told him that the deed was done.' Corbulo was dumb with horror; but Daphnidion cried out in violent grief, 'Alas! my poor mistress! Then Cethegus murdered your child; for he stood near, close to me, and watched her drink.' 'He watched her drink?' asked my mother, in a voice which will ring in my ears for ever. 'He watched her as she drank,' repeated the freedman and his daughter. 'Oh! then may his cursed soul be delivered to the devils in hell!' cried my mother. 'Revenge, O God! revenge hereafter! Revenge upon earth, my sons, for Camilla! A curse upon Cethegus!' And she fell back and expired." The Prefect preserved his composure. But he secretly grasped the dagger which was hidden in the breast-folds of his tunic. "But you," he asked after a pause, "what did you do?" "I knelt down by the corpse of my mother and kissed her cold hand. And I swore to fulfil her dying behest. Woe to you, Prefect of Rome, poisoner and murderer of my sister! You shall not live!" "Son of Boëthius, will you become a murderer for the mad words of a stupid slave and his daughter? It would be worthy of a hero and a philosopher." "I do not think of murder. If I were a German, I should, according to their barbaric custom--and just now I think it excellent--challenge you to mortal combat. But I am a Roman, and will lawfully seek my revenge. Take care. Prefect, there are still just judges in Italy. For many months the enemy has prevented me from reaching the city. I only arrived here to-day by sea, and to-morrow I shall accuse you before the Senate, who will be your judges. Then we shall meet again." Cethegus suddenly placed himself between the youth and the door. But Severinus cried: "Softly! I am prudent where a murderer is concerned. Three of my friends accompanied me to your house. If I do not return immediately, they will come with the lictors to search for me." "I only wish," said Cethegus, again fully composed, "to warn you against a shameful course. If you like to prosecute the oldest friend of your family, in consequence of the feverish words of a dying woman, then do so; I cannot prevent you. But first a commission. You will become my accuser, but you still remain a soldier and my tribune. You will obey when your general commands." "I shall obey." "To-morrow Belisarius will make a sally, and the barbarians intend to attack one of the gates. I must protect the city. But I fear danger for the lion-hearted Belisarius. I must be sure that he is faithfully guarded. Therefore I order you to accompany the general to-morrow, and to defend his life with your own." "With mine own." "'Tis good, tribune, I depend upon your word." "Depend upon my first word too! Farewell, till we meet again, after the fight, before the Senate. With what ardour do I long for both contests! Farewell--until we meet in the Senate!" "We shall never meet again!" said Cethegus, as the steps of his visitor died away. "Syphax!" he called aloud, "bring wine and dinner. We must strengthen ourselves for to-morrow's work!" CHAPTER X. Early next morning Rome and the Gothic encampment were equally full of life and movement. Mataswintha and Syphax had learned somewhat, and had imparted it to Cethegus; but they had not known all. They had heard of the plot of the three Goths against the life of Belisarius, and of the earlier plan of a sham assault upon the Gate of St. Paul. But they had not heard that the King, changing his plan, had determined to take advantage of the absence of the great general, in order to try if Gothic heroism were not yet able to conquer the fortifications and the genius of Belisarius. In the council of war, no one had deceived himself as to the importance and risk of the undertaking upon which they had determined; for if, like all former ones--and Procopius had already counted sixty battles, sallies, assaults and skirmishes--this last attempt failed, no further exertion could be demanded from the harassed and greatly diminished army. For this reason they had, at Teja's advice, taken an oath to keep their plan a profound secret, and thus Mataswintha had learned nothing from the King. Even the keen senses of the Moor had been unable to scent out that anything of importance was in preparation for that day--the Gothic troops themselves knew not what. Totila, Hildebad, and Teja had started with their horsemen during the night, and had placed themselves in ambush on the south of the Valerian Way, in a hollow near the tomb of the Fulvias, through which Belisarius would necessarily pass. They hoped to have finished their task soon enough to be able to take an important part in the events which were impending against the city. While the King, with Hildebrand, Guntharis, and Markja, was mustering the troops within the camp, Belisarius marched at daybreak out of the Tiburtinian Gate, surrounded by part of his body-guard. Procopius and Severinus rode on his right and left; Aigan, the Massagetian, bore his banner, which accompanied the magister militum on all occasions. Constantinus, to whom he had entrusted the care of the "Belisarian" part of Rome during his absence, doubled all the posts along the walls, and placed his troops under arms close to the ramparts. He sent word to the Prefect to do the same with the Byzantines under his command. His messenger met Cethegus upon the walls between the Appian Gate and the Gate of St. Paul. "So Belisarius thinks," said Cethegus sarcastically, as he obeyed the order, "that Rome cannot be safe unless he guard it! But I think that Belisarius would be in evil plight, had I not protected my Rome. Come, Lucius Licinius," he whispered to the latter, "we must decide upon what we must do should Belisarius fail to return from his ride. In that case, a firm hand must be laid upon the Byzantine army." "I know whose hand will do it." "It may perhaps lead to a short struggle with those of the body-guard still in Rome; either in the Baths of Diocletian or at the Tiburtinian Gate. They must be crushed before they have time to reflect. Take three thousand of my Isaurians, and divide them, without attracting attention, round about the Baths, and, above all things, occupy the Tiburtinian Gate." "But whence shall I withdraw the men?" "From the Mausoleum of Hadrian," said Cethegus after a moment's reflection. "And the Goths?" "Bah! the Mausoleum is strong; it will protect itself, for the assaulters must first get over the river to the south, and then climb those smooth walls of Parian marble, in which the Greek and I take such pride. And besides," he added with a smile, "look up! There stands a host of marble gods and heroes; they may themselves protect their temple against the barbarians. Do you see? I told you it would be so. The Goths only think of attacking the Gate of St. Paul," he concluded, pointing towards the Gothic camp, whence, just at that moment, a strong division marched out in the direction he mentioned. Licinius obeyed his orders, and soon led three thousand Isaurians--perhaps the half of the garrison of the Mausoleum--over the river and the Viminalian Hill in the direction of the Baths of Diocletian. He then replaced Belisarius's Armenians at the Tiburtinian Gate by three hundred Isaurians and legionaries. But Cethegus turned to the Salarian Gate, where Constantinus now remained as the representative of Belisarius. "I must have him out of the way," said Cethegus to himself, "when the news arrives.--When you have repulsed the barbarians," he said aloud to Constantinus, "no doubt you will make a sally. What an opportunity to gather laurels while your commander is yet at a distance!" "Yes," said Constantinus, "they shall see that we can fight, even without Belisarius." "But you must aim with more composure," said Cethegus, turning to a Persian archer and taking his bow. "Do you see that Goth, the leader on horseback? He shall fall." Cethegus drew the bow. The Goth fell from his horse, pierced through the neck by the arrow. "And you use my shooting-machines clumsily too! Do you see that oak-tree? A leader of one of the Gothic thousands is standing beneath it, clad in a coat of mail. Pay attention!" He directed the machine; aimed and shot. The mailed Goth was pierced through and through, and nailed to the tree. Just then a Saracen horseman rode quickly up below the wall. "Archon," he cried to Constantinus, "Bessas begs for reinforcements for the Prænestinian Gate! The Goths are advancing." Constantinus looked doubtfully at Cethegus. "Pshaw!" said the latter; "the only attack to be feared will be made upon the Gate of St. Paul, and that is well defended, I am certain. Tell Bessas that he is scared too soon. Besides, I have six lions, ten tigers and twelve bears in the Vivarium waiting for the next feast at the Circus. Let them loose upon the barbarians for the present. It will afford a spectacle for the Romans." But now one of the body-guard hurried up from Mons Pincius. "Help, sir. Help, Constantinus! your own gate, the Flaminian, is in danger! Countless barbarians! Ursicinus begs for assistance!" "There too?" asked Cethegus incredulously. "Reinforcements for the broken walls between the Flaminian and the Pincian Gates!" cried a second messenger, also sent by Ursicinus. "You need not defend that part. You know that it stands under the special protection of St. Peter; that will suffice," said Constantinus encouragingly. Cethegus smiled. "Yes, to-day most surely; for it will not be attacked at all." "Prefect!" cried Marcus Licinius, who just then hurried up, out of breath; "quick to the Capitol! I have just come thence. All the seven camps of the enemy are vomiting Goths from every exit. A general storm is intended upon all the gates of Rome." "That can hardly be," said Cethegus with a smile. "But I will go up. You, Marcus Licinius, will answer to me for the Tiburtinian Gate. It _must_ be mine. Away with you! Take your two hundred legionaries." With these words he mounted his horse and rode towards the Capitol round the foot of the Viminalian Hill. There he met with Lucius Licinius and his Isaurians. "General," said Lucius, "things look grave, very grave! What about the Isaurians? Do you persist in your order?" "Have I retracted it?" said Cethegus severely. "Lucius, you and the other tribunes must follow me. Isaurians, you, under your chief, Asgares, will march between the Baths and the Tiburtinian Gate." He did not believe there was danger for Rome. He thought he knew what the barbarians really intended at this moment. "The feint of a general attack," he argued, "is only meant to prevent the Byzantines from thinking of the danger of their commander outside the walls." He soon reached and ascended a tower of the Capitol, whence he could overlook the whole plain. It was filled with Gothic weapons. It was a splendid spectacle. From all the gates of the encampment poured the Gothic troops, encircling the whole circumference of the city. It was evident that the assault was intended to be carried on simultaneously against all the gates of Rome. Foremost came the archers and slingers, in light groups of skirmishers, whose business it was to rid the ramparts of their defenders. Then followed battering-rams and wall-breakers, taken from Roman arsenals or constructed on Roman models, though often clumsily enough; harnessed with horses and oxen and served by soldiers without weapons of attack, whose sole business it was to protect themselves and their teams against the projectiles of the enemy by means of their shields. Close behind, in thick ranks and fully armed, furnished with battle-axes and strong knives for the hand-to-hand struggle, and dragging heavy ladders, came the warriors who were to undertake the assault. These three separate lines of attack advanced steadily, in good order, and with an even step. The sun glittered upon their helmets; at intervals of equal lengths sounded the long-drawn summons of the Gothic horns. "They have learned something of us," cried Cethegus, with a soldier's pride in the fine array. "The man who has ordered these ranks understands war." "Who is it?" asked Kallistratos, who, in splendid armour, stood near Lucius Licinius. "King Witichis, without doubt," answered Cethegus. "I should not have thought that simple man, with his modest expression, capable of such generalship." "These barbarians are often unfathomable," remarked Cethegus. And now he rode away from the Capitol, over the river to the ramparts at the Pancratian Gate, where the first attack seemed to threaten. There he ascended the corner tower with his followers. "Who is the old man with the flowing beard, marching before his troop and carrying a stone axe? He looks as if the lightning of Zeus had missed him in the battle with the Titans." "It is Theodoric's old master-at-arms; he marches against this gate," answered the Prefect. "And who is the richly-accoutred man upon the brown charger, with the wolfs head upon his helmet? He is marching towards the Porta Portuensis." "That is Duke Guntharis, the Wölfung," said Lucius Licinius. "And see there, too, on the eastern side of the city, away over the river, as far as the eye can reach, the ranks of the enemy advance against all the gates," cried Piso. "But where is the King himself!" asked Kallistratos. "Look! there in the middle you see the Gothic standard. There he is, opposite the Pancratian Gate," answered the Prefect. "He alone, with his strong division, stands motionless far behind the lines," said Salvius Julianus, the young jurist. "Will he not join in the fight!" asked Massurius. "It would be against his habit not to do so. But let us go down upon the ramparts; the fight begins," said Cethegus. "Hildebrand has reached the trench." "There stand my Byzantines, under Gregorius. The Gothic archers aim well. The ramparts become thinned. Massurius, bring up my Abasgian archers, and the best archers of the legions. They must aim at the oxen and horses of the battering-rams." Very soon the battle was kindled upon all sides, and Cethegus remarked with rage that the Goths progressed everywhere. The Byzantines seemed to miss their leader; they shot at random and fell back from the walls, against which the Goths pressed with unusual daring. They had already crossed the trenches at many points, and Duke Guntharis had even erected ladders against the walls near the Portuensian Gate; while the old master-at-arms had dragged a strong battering-ram to the Pancratian Gate, and had caused it to be protected by a penthouse against the fiery darts from above. Already the first strokes of the ram thundered through the uproar of the battle against the beams of the gate. This well-known sound gave the Prefect a shock. "It is evident," he said to himself, "that they are in good earnest." Again a thundering stroke, Gregorius, the Byzantine, looked at him inquiringly. "This must not continue any longer," cried Cethegus angrily; and he tore a bow and quiver from an archer who stood near him, and hurried to the battlements over the gate. "Here, archers and slingers! Follow me!" he cried. "Bring heavy stones. Where is the next balista? Where the scorpions? That penthouse must come down!" But under it stood Gothic archers, who eagerly looked through the apertures at the pinnacles of the battlements. "It is useless, Haduswinth," grumbled young Gunthamund; "for the third time I have aimed in vain. Not one of them will venture even his nose above the battlements." "Patience!" answered the old man; "only keep thy bow ready bent. Some curious body will be sure to show himself. Lay a bow ready for me too, and have patience." "Patience! That is easier for thee with thy seventy years, than for me with my twenty," grumbled Gunthamund. Meanwhile Cethegus reached the wall over the gate, and cast a look across the plain. There he saw the King standing motionless in the distance with his centre, upon the right bank of the Tiber. This sight disturbed him. "What does he intend? Has he learned that the commander-in-chief ought not to fight? Come, Gajus," he cried to a young archer, who had boldly followed him, "your young eyes are sharp. Look over the battlements. What is the King doing there?" And he bent over the bulwarks. Gajus followed his example, and both looked out eagerly. "Now, Gunthamund!" cried Haduswinth below. Two strings twanged, and the two Romans started back. Gajus fell, shot in the forehead; and an arrow fell rattling from the Prefect's helmet. Cethegus passed his hand across his brow. "You live, my general!" cried Piso, springing towards him. "Yes, friend. It was well aimed, but the gods need me yet. Only the skin is scratched," said Cethegus, and set his helmet straight. CHAPTER XI. Just then Syphax appeared upon the wall. His master had strictly forbidden him to take part in the fight. He could not spare him. "Woe--woe!" cried Syphax, so loudly, that it struck Cethegus--who knew the Moor's usual self-control--strangely. "What has happened?" "A great misfortune! Constantinus is severely wounded. He led a sortie from the Salarian Gate, and at once stumbled upon the Gothic ranks. A stone from a sling hit him on the brow. With difficulty his people saved him, and bore him back within the walls. There I received the fainting man--he named you, the Prefect, as his successor. Here is his general's staff." "That is not possible!" shouted Bessas, who had followed at Syphax's heels. He had come in person to demand reinforcements from the Prefect, and arrived just in time to hear this news. "That is not possible," he repeated, "or Constantinus was raving when he said it." "If he had appointed you he might have been so," said Cethegus quietly, taking the staff, and thanking the cunning slave with a rapid motion of his hand. With a furious look Bessas left the ramparts and hurried away. "Follow him, and watch him carefully, Syphax," whispered the Prefect. An Isaurian mercenary hastily approached. "Reinforcements, Prefect, for the Porta Portuensis! Duke Guntharis has stormed the wall!" He was followed by Cabao, the leader of the Moorish mounted archers, who cried: "Constantinus is dead! You must represent him." "I represent Belisarius," said Cethegus proudly. "Take five hundred Armenians from the Appian Gate, and send them to the Porta Portuensis." "Help--help for the Appian Gate! All the men on the ramparts are shot dead!" cried a Persian horseman, galloping up. "The farthest outwork is nearly lost; it may yet be saved, but with difficulty. It would be impossible to retake it!" Cethegus called his young jurisconsult, Salvius Julianus, now his war-tribune. "Up, my jurist! '_Beati possidentes!_' Take a hundred legionaries and keep the outwork at all costs until further assistance arrive." And again he looked over the breastwork. Under his feet the fight raged; the battering-rams thundered. But he was more troubled by the mysterious inaction which the King preserved in the background than by the turmoil close at hand. "Of what can he be thinking?" Just then a fearful crash and a loud shout of joy from the barbarians sounded from below. Cethegus had no need to ask what it was; in a moment he had reached the gate. "The gate is broken!" cried his people. "I know it. _We_ now must be the bolts of Rome!" And pressing his shield more firmly to his side, he went up to the right wing of the gate, in which yawned a broad fissure. And again the battering-ram struck the shattered planks near the crevice. "Another such stroke and the gate will fall!" said Gregorius, the Byzantine. "Quite right; therefore we must not let it be repeated. Here--to me--Gregorius and Lucius! Form, milites! Spears lowered! Torches and firebrands! Make ready to sally. When I raise my sword, open the gate, and cast ram and penthouse and all into the trench." "You are very daring, my general!" cried Lucius Licinius, taking his stand close to Cethegus with delight. "Yes, now there is cause to be daring, my friend." The column was formed; the Prefect was just about to give the sign, when, from behind, there arose a noise still greater than that made by the storming Goths; screams of pain and the tramp of horses. Bessas came up in great agitation; he caught the Prefect's arm--his voice failed him. "Why do you hinder me at this moment?" asked. Cethegus, pushing him aside. "Belisarius's troops," at last panted the Thracian, "stand sorely wounded outside the Tiburtinian Gate they beg for admittance--furious Goths are at their heels--Belisarius has fallen into an ambush--he is dead." "Belisarius is taken!" cried a gate-keeper, who hurried up breathless. "The Goths--the Goths are upon us! at the Nomentanian and Tiburtinian Gates!" was shouted from the streets. "Belisarius's flag is taken! Procopius is defending the corpse of Belisarius!" "Give orders for the Tiburtinian Gate to be opened," persisted Bessas. "Your Isaurians are there. Who sent them?" "I," answered Cethegus reflectively. "They will not open without your orders. Save at least the corpse of our noble commander!" Cethegus lingered--he held his hand half raised--he hesitated. "I would gladly save his _corpse_!" he thought. Just then Syphax rushed up to him, and whispered: "No, he still lives! I saw him from the ramparts. He moves; but he will be taken prisoner directly. The Gothic horsemen are close upon him. Totila and Teja will be up with him immediately!" "Give the order; let the Tiburtinian Gate be opened," insisted Bessas. But the Prefect's eyes flashed; over his countenance spread an expression of proud and bold decision, and illumined it with demoniac beauty. He struck his sword against the shattered wing of the gate before him and cried: "Sally! First Rome; then Belisarius! Rome and triumph!" The gate flew open. The storming Goths, already sure of victory, had expected anything rather than such a bold attack from the Byzantines, whom they believed to be completely cowed. They were crowded about the gate without order. They were completely taken by surprise, and were soon pushed into the yawning ditch behind them by the sudden and irresistible attack. Old Hildebrand would not leave his battering-ram. Raising himself to his full height, he shattered Gregorius's tall helmet with his stone-axe. But almost at the same moment Lucius Licinius pushed him into the trench with the spike of his shield. Cethegus cut the ropes which held the battering-ram, and it fell crashing down over the old man. "Now fire all the wooden machines!" cried Cethegus. Quickly the flames caught the beams. The victorious Romans immediately retired within the walls. But then Syphax, meeting the Prefect, cried: "Mutiny, master! Mutiny and rebellion! The Byzantines will no longer obey you! Bessas calls upon them to open the Tiburtinian Gate by force. His body-guard threaten to attack Marcus Licinius, and the Huns to slaughter your legionaries and Isaurians!" "They shall repent it!" cried Cethegus furiously. "Woe to Bessas! I will remember this! Up, Lucius Licinius! take half the remaining Isaurians. No take them all--_all_! You know where they stand. Attack the body-guard of the Thracian from behind, and if they will not yield, strike them down without mercy. Help your brother! I will follow immediately." Lucius Licinius lingered. "And the Tiburtinian Gate?" "Must remain closed." "And Belisarius?" "Must remain outside." "Teja and Totila have almost reached him!" "So much the less dare we open! First Rome; then the rest! Obey, tribune!" Cethegus remained behind to order the reparation of the damaged gate. It took a considerable time. "How was it, Syphax!" he asked his slave. "Was he really alive?" "He still lives." "How stupid these Goths are!" A messenger arrived from Lucius. "Your tribune sends word that Bessas will not yield. The blood of your legionaries has already been shed at the Tiburtinian Gate. And Asgares and the Isaurians hesitate to strike; they doubt that you are in earnest." "I will show them that I am in earnest!" cried Cethegus, as he mounted his horse and galloped away like the wind. He had to go a long way. Over the bridge of the Janiculum, past the Capitol, across the Forum Romanum, through the Via Sacra and the Arch of Titus, leaving the Baths of Titus to the right; out over the Esquiline Hill, and, lastly, through the Esquiline Gate to the outer Tiburtinian Gate--a distance which extended from the extreme western to the extreme eastern limit of the immense city. When he reached the gate, he found the bodyguard of Bessas and Belisarius showing a double front. One line prepared to overpower the legionaries and Isaurians under Marcus Licinius at the gate, and to open the latter by force; while the second line stood opposed to the rest of the Isaurians, to whom Lucius gave the order to advance in vain. "Mercenaries!" cried Cethegus, checking his foaming horse close before them; "to whom have you sworn obedience--to me or to Belisarius?" "To you, general," said Asgares, the leader, stepping forward; "but I thought----" The sword of the Prefect flashed; and, struck to the heart, the man fell. "Your duty is to obey, stupid rascal, and not to think!" The Isaurians were horrified. But Cethegus quickly gave the word of command. "Lower your spears! Follow me! Charge!" And the Isaurians now obeyed him. Another moment, and a fight would have commenced in the city itself. But just then, from the west, in the direction of the Aurelian Gate, was heard a terrible, all-overpowering cry. "Woe! woe! all is lost! The Goths are upon us! The city is taken!" Cethegus turned pale, and looked behind him. Kallistratos galloped up, blood flowing from his face and neck. "Cethegus," he cried, "all is over! The barbarians are in Rome! The wall is forced!" "Where?" asked the Prefect, in a hollow voice. "At the Mausoleum!" "Oh, my general!" cried Lucius, "I warned you!" "That is Witichis!" said Cethegus, closing his eyes as if in pain. "How do you know it?" asked Kallistratos, astonished. "Enough! I do know it." It was a fearful moment for the Prefect. He was obliged to confess to himself that, recklessly following his plan for the ruin of Belisarius, he had for a short period neglected Rome. He ground his teeth. "Cethegus has exposed the Mausoleum! Cethegus has ruined Rome!" cried Bessas, at the head of the body-guard. "And Cethegus will save Rome!" cried the Prefect, raising himself in his saddle. "Follow me, Isaurians and legionaries!" "And Belisarius?" whispered Syphax. "He may enter. First Rome; then the rest! Follow me!" And Cethegus galloped off the same way that he had come. Only a few mounted men could keep up with him; his foot-soldiers and Isaurians followed at a run. CHAPTER XII. At the same time a pause ensued before the Tiburtinian Gate. A messenger had recalled the Gothic horsemen from the useless fight. They were to send all the men they could dispose of as fast as possible round the city to the Aurelian Gate, through which their comrades had just entered the city; there the greatest available force was necessary. The horsemen, turning to the left, galloped towards the gate which had now become the centre of the struggle; but their own foot-soldiers, storming the five gates which lay between--the Porta Clausa, the Nomentanian, Salarian, Pincian, and Flaminian Gates--blocked their progress so long, that they arrived too late for the result of the attack upon the Mausoleum. We recollect the position of this favourite resort of the Prefect. Opposite the Vatican Hill, at about a stone's throw from the Aurelian Gate, with which it was connected by side walls, and protected everywhere, except on the south, where ran the river, by new fortifications, towered the "Moles Hadriani," an immense round tower of the firmest masonry. A sort of court surrounded the principal building. On the south, before the first and outer wall of defence, flowed the Tiber. The ramparts of this outer wall, and the court and battlements of the inner wall, were usually occupied by the Isaurians, whom, in an evil hour, the Prefect had withdrawn in order to carry out his plot against Belisarius. On the parapet of the inner wall stood the numerous statues of marble and bronze, which had been raised to the number of three hundred by the gift of Kallistratos. The King of the Goths had chosen for himself a position far back in the middle of the wide semicircle which his army had drawn around the city to the west. He had stationed himself upon the "field of Nero," on the right bank of the Tiber, between the Pancratian (old Aurelian) and the (new) Aurelian Gates, a post usually occupied by Earl Markja, of Mediolanum. Witichis founded his plan upon the fact that the general storming of all the gates would necessarily disperse the forces of the besieged; and as soon as some part of the ramparts should be more than usually exposed by the withdrawal of its defenders, he intended to make use of the circumstance, and attack at that point. With this view, he had quietly remained immovable far behind the storming columns. He had given orders to his leaders to call him at once should a gap in the line of defence be observed. He had waited long--very long. He had had to bear many a word of impatience from his troops, who were forced to remain idle while their comrades were advancing on all sides. Long, long they waited for a messenger to call them into action. At last the King himself was the first to notice that the well-known flags and the thickly-crowded spears of the Isaurians had disappeared from the outer wall of the Mausoleum. He observed the place attentively. The Isaurians could not have been relieved, for the gaps were not filled up. Then he sprang from his saddle, gave his horse a stroke with the flat of his hand, and cried, "Home, Boreas!" The clever animal galloped straight back to the camp. "Now forward, my Goths! forward, Earl Markja!" cried the King. "Over the river there! Leave the wall-breakers behind: take only shields and storming-ladders, and the axes. Forward!" And at a run he reached the steep bank at the southern bend of the river, and descended the hill. "No bridge. King, and no ford!" asked a Goth behind him. "No, friend Iffamer; we must swim!" And the King sprang into the dirty yellow water, which splashed, hissing, high above his helmet. In a few moments he had reached the opposite bank, the foremost of his people with him. Soon they stood close before the lofty outer wall of the Mausoleum, and the warriors looked up inquiringly and anxiously. "Bring the ladders!" cried Witichis. "Do you not see? There are no defenders! Are you afraid of mere stones?" The ladders were quickly raised, and the outer wall scaled. The few soldiers who had remained to defend this wall were overcome, the ladders drawn up and let down on the inner side. The King was the first in the court. There, it is true, the progress of the Goths was for a time arrested. For Quintus Piso and Kallistratos stood on the ramparts of the inner wall, with a hundred legionaries and a few Isaurians. They had hastened thither from the Pancratian Gate. They hurled a thick hail of spears and arrows at the Goths as they descended singly into the court. Their catapults were also not without effect. "Send for assistance to Cethegus!" cried Piso, on the wall; and Kallistratos immediately rushed away. Below in the court the Goths fell right and left at the side of Witichis. "What shall we do?" asked Markja. "Wait until they have exhausted their projectiles. It cannot last much longer. They shoot and hurl too hastily in their fright. Do you see? Already more stones are flying than arrows, and there are no more spears." "But their balistas?" "They will presently be able to hurt us no longer. Prepare to storm! See, the hail is much thinner; now be ready with the ladders and axes. Follow me quickly!" And the Goths ran at a quick step across the court. Very few fell. The greater part reached the second and inner wall in safety, and a hundred ladders were raised. And now all Procopius's balistas and machines were useless; for being directed for a wide range, they could not be placed in a perpendicular direction without great trouble and loss of time. Piso observed this, and turned pale. "Spears! spears! or all is lost!" "They are all cast away," panted fat Balbus, who stood near him, with a look of despair. "Then all is lost!" sighed Piso, letting fall his wearied arms. "Come, Massurius, let us save ourselves," cried Balbus. "No, let us stand and die," cried Piso. Over the edge of the wall appeared the first Gothic helmet. All at once a cry was heard upon the steps leading on to the wall citywards. "Cethegus! Cethegus the Prefect!" And he it was. He sprang upon the ramparts, and attacking the Goth, who had just laid his hand upon the breastwork before swinging himself over, he cut off hand and arm. The man screamed and fell. "Oh, Cethegus!" cried Piso; "you come in the very nick of time!" "I hope so," said Cethegus, and overturned the ladder which was raised against the wall just in front of him. Witichis had mounted it--he sprang down with agility. "But I must have projectiles; spears, lances! else we can do nothing!" cried Cethegus. "There is nothing left," answered Balbus; "we hoped that you would come with your Isaurians." "They are still far, far behind me!" cried Kallistratos, who was the first to arrive after Cethegus. And the number of ladders and the rising helmets increased. Ruin was imminent. Cethegus looked wildly round. "Projectiles," he cried, stamping his foot; "we must have them!" At that moment his eye fell upon a gigantic marble statue of Jupiter, which stood upon the ramparts to his left hand. A thought flashed across him. He sprang up, and with his axe struck off the right arm of the statue, together with the thunderbolt it held. "Jupiter!" he cried, "lend me thy lightnings! Why dost thou hold them so idly? Up, my men! shatter the statues and hurl them at the enemy!" Before he could finish his sentence, his example was followed. The hard-pressed defenders fell upon the gods and heroes with hammers and axes, and in a moment the lovely forms were shattered. It was a frightful sight. There lay a grand Hadrian, an equestrian statue, man and horse split in two; there a laughing Aphrodite fell upon its knees; there the beautiful head of an Antinous fell from the trunk, and hurled by two hands, fell crashing upon a Gothic shield of buffalo-hide. And far and wide upon the ramparts fell fragments and pieces of marble and bronze, of iron and gold. Down from the ramparts, thundering and crashing, fell the mighty weight of metal and stone, and shattered the helms and shields, the armour and limbs of the attacking Goths, and the ladders which bore them. Cethegus looked with horror at the work of destruction which his words had called into action. But it had saved them. Twelve, fifteen, twenty ladders stood empty, although a moment before they had swarmed with men like ants; just as many lay broken at the foot of the wall. Surprised by this unexpected hail of bronze and marble, the Goths fell back for a space. But presently Markja's horn called them to the attack. And again the tons of marble thundered through the air. "Unhappy man, what have you done?" cried Kallistratos, full of grief, and staring at the ruin. "What was necessary!" cried Cethegus, and hurled the trunk of the Jupiter-statue over the wall. "Did you see it strike? two barbarians at one blow." And he looked down with great content. At that moment he heard the Corinthian cry: "No, no; not this one. Not the Apollo!" Cethegus turned and saw a gigantic Isaurian raising his axe over the head of the statue. "Fool, shall the Goths come up?" asked the mercenary, and raised his arm again. "Not my Apollo!" repeated the Greek, and embraced the statue with both arms, protecting it with his body. Earl Markja saw this movement from his stand upon the nearest ladder, and believing that Kallistratos was about to hurl the statue at him, he cast his spear and hit the Greek in the breast. "Ah--Cethegus!" gasped Kallistratos--and fell dead. The Prefect saw him fall, and contracted his brows. "Save the corpse, and spare his two gods!" he said briefly, and overthrew the ladder upon which Markja was standing; more he could neither say nor do, for already a new and more imminent danger attracted his attention. Witichis, half thrown, half springing from his ladder, had remained standing close under the wall, amidst a hail of stone and metal, seeking for new means of attack. For, since the first trial with the storming-ladders had been rendered futile by the unexpected and novel projectiles, he had scarcely any hope left of winning the wall. While he was thus looking and waiting, the heavy marble pedestal of a "Mars Gradivus" fell close to his feet, rebounded and struck one of the slabs of the wall. And this slab, which seemed to be made of the hardest stone, broke into little pieces of lime and mortar. In its place was revealed a small wooden door, which, loosely covered and concealed by the mortar, was used by the masons and workpeople as a means of exit and entrance when obliged to repair the immense edifice. Witichis had scarcely caught sight of this wooden door, than he cried out exultingly: "Here, Goths, here! Bring axes!" and he himself dealt a blow at the thin boards, which seemed anything but strong. The new and singular sound struck the ear of the Prefect; he paused in his bloody work and listened. "That is iron against wood, by Cæsar!" he said to himself, and sprang down the narrow stairway, which led on the inner side of the wall into the faintly illuminated interior of the Mausoleum. There he heard a louder stroke than all which had preceded it; a dull crash; a sharp sound of splintered wood; and then an exultant cry from the Goths. As he reached the last step of the stair, the door fell crashing inwards, and King Witichis was visible upon the threshold. "Rome is mine!" cried Witichis, letting his axe fall and drawing his sword. "You lie, Witichis! for the first time in your life!" cried Cethegus furiously, and, springing forward, he pressed the strong spike of his shield so firmly against the breastplate of the Goth, that the latter, surprised, fell back a step. The Prefect took advantage of the movement and placed himself upon the threshold, completely blocking up the doorway. "Where are my Isaurians!" he shouted. But the next moment Witichis had recognised him. "So we meet at last in single combat for Rome!" cried the King. And now it was his turn to attack. Cethegus, who wished to close the passage, covered his left side with his shield; his right hand, armed only with a short sword, was insufficient for the protection of his right side. The thrust of Witichis's long sword, weakly parried by Cethegus, cut through the latter's coat of mail and entered deeply into his right breast. Cethegus staggered; he bent forward; but he did not fall. "Rome! Rome!" he cried faintly; and convulsively kept himself upright. Witichis had fallen back to gain space for a final thrust. But at that moment he was recognised by Piso on the wall, who hurled a splendid sleeping Faun which lay near him down upon the King. It struck the King's shoulder, and he fell. Earl Markja, Iffamer and Aligern bore him out of the fight. Cethegus saw him fall, and then himself sank down upon the threshold of the door; the protecting arms of a friend received him--but he could recognise nothing; his senses failed him. He was presently recalled to consciousness by a well-known sound, which rejoiced his soul; it was the tones of the tubas of his legionaries and the battle-cry of his Isaurians, who had at last arrived, and, led by the Licinii, fell upon the Goths, who were disheartened by the fall of their King. The Isaurians, after a bloody fight, had issued through a breach in the outer wall (which had been broken outwards by the Goths who were inside). The Prefect saw the last of the barbarians fly; then his eyes closed once more. "Cethegus!" cried the friend who held him in his arms, "Belisarius is dying; and you, you too are lost!" Cethegus recognised the voice of Procopius. "I do not know," he said with a last effort, "but Rome--Rome is saved!" And his senses completely forsook him. CHAPTER XIII. After the terrible exertion of strength in the general attack and its repulse, which had begun with the dawn of day, and had only ended at its close, a long pause of exhaustion ensued on the part of both Goths and Romans. The three commanders, Belisarius, Cethegus, and Witichis, lay for weeks recovering from their wounds. But the actual armistice was more the effect of the deep discouragement and oppression which had come over the Gothic army when, after striving for victory to the uttermost, it had been wrested from them at the moment of seeming success. All day they had done their best; their heroes had outvied each other in deeds of valour; and yet both their plans, that against Belisarius and that against the city, were wrecked in the consummation. And although King Witichis, with his constant mind, did not share in the depression of his troops, he all the more clearly discerned that, after that bloody day, he would be obliged to change the whole plan of the siege. The loss of the Goths was enormous; Procopius valued it at thirty thousand dead and more than as many wounded. On every side of the city they had exposed themselves, with utter contempt of death, to the projectiles of the besieged, and had fallen by thousands at the Pancratian Gate and before the Mausoleum of Hadrian. And as, on the sixty-eight earlier attacks, the besiegers had always suffered much more than the besieged, sheltered as were these last behind walls and towers, the great army which, a few months before, Witichis had led against the Eternal City had been fearfully reduced. Besides all this, hunger and pestilence had raged in their tents for a considerable period. In consequence of this discouragement and the decimation of his troops, Witichis was obliged to renounce the idea of taking the city by storm, and his last hope--he did not conceal from himself its weakness--lay in the possibility that famine would force the enemy to capitulate. The country round Rome was completely exhausted, and all seemed now to depend upon which party would be longest able to bear privation, or which could first procure provisions from a distance. The Goths felt severely the loss of their fleet, which had been damaged on the coast of Dalmatia. The first to recover from his wounds was the Prefect. When carried away insensible from the door which he had closed with his body, he had lain for a day and a half in a state which was half sleep, half swoon. When, on the evening of the second day, he again opened his eyes, his first glance fell upon the faithful Moor, who was crouched at the foot of the bed, and who had never ceased to watch him. The snake was twined round his arm. "The wooden door!" was the first scarcely audible word of the Prefect. "The wooden door must be replaced by--marble blocks----" "Thanks, thanks, O Snake-god!" cried the slave; "now he is saved and thou too! And I, my master, have saved you." And he threw himself upon the ground and kissed his master's bedstead; his feet he did not dare to kiss. "You have saved me? how?" "When I laid you, as pale as death, upon this bed, I fetched my Snake-god and showed you to him; and I said, 'Thou seest, O Snake-god, that my master's eyes are closed. Make them open. Until thou dost so, thou shalt not receive one drop of milk or crumb of bread. And if he never open his eyes again--then, on the day when they burn his corpse, Syphax will burn by his side, and thou, O great Snake-god, also. Thou hast the power to heal him, then do so--or burn!' Thus I spoke, and he has healed you." "The city is safe--I feel it. Else I had never slept! Is Belisarius alive? Where is Procopius?" "In the library with your tribunes. According to the physician's sentence, they expected to-day either your recovery, or your----" "Death? This time your god has saved me, Syphax.--Let the tribunes enter." Very soon Piso, the Licinii, Salvius Julianus, and some others stood before the Prefect; they would have hurried up to his couch with emotion, but he signed to them to compose themselves. "Rome, through me, thanks you! You have fought like--like Romans! I can say nothing more, or more flattering." He looked at the row of men before him reflectively, and then said: "One is missing--ah, my Corinthian! His corpse is saved, for I recommended it, and the two statues, to Piso. Let a slab of black Corinthian marble be placed upon the spot where he fell; set the statue of Apollo above the urn, and inscribe on the latter, 'Here died, for Rome, Kallistratos of Corinth; he saved the god, and not the god him.' Now go. We shall soon meet again upon the walls.--Syphax, send Procopius to me. And bring a large cup of Falernian.--Friend," he cried to Procopius as the latter entered, "it seems to me as if, before I fell into this feverish sleep, I had heard some one whisper, 'Procopius has saved the great Belisarius!' A deed which will give you immortality. Posterity will thank you--therefore I need not. Sit by my side and tell me all. But wait--first arrange my cushions, so that I may see my Cæsar. The sight of that statue strengthens me more than medicine. Now speak." Procopius looked sharply at the sick man. "Cethegus," he then said, in a grave voice, "Belisarius knows everything." "Everything?" said the Prefect with a smile. "That is much." "Cease your mockery, and do not refuse admiration to nobleness of mind, you, who yourself are noble!" "I? I know nothing of it." "As soon as Belisarius recovered his senses," continued Procopius, "Bessas naturally informed him of all that had passed. He described to him minutely how you had ordered the Tiburtinian Gate to be kept closed, when Belisarius lay outside in his blood, with Teja raging at his heels. He told him that you commanded that his body-guard should be beaten down if they attempted to open the gate by force. He repeated your every word, also your cry: 'Rome first, then Belisarius!' And he demanded your head in the Council. I trembled; but Belisarius said: 'He did right! Here, Procopius, take him my sword, and the armour which I wore that day, as a sign that I thank him.' And in the report to the Emperor he dictated these words to me: 'Cethegus saved Rome, and Cethegus alone! Send him the patricianship of Byzantium.'" "Many thanks! I did not save Rome for Byzantium!" observed Cethegus. "You need not tell Belisarius that, you un-Attic Roman!" "I am in no Attic humour, you life-preserver! What was your reward?" "Peace. He knows nothing of it, and shall never learn it." "Syphax, wine! I cannot bear so much magnanimity. It makes me weak. Well, what was the joke with the ambush?" "Friend, it was no joke, but as terrible earnest as I have ever seen. Belisarius was saved by a hair's-breadth." "Yes; it was one of those hairs which are always in the way of these Goths! They are clumsy fools, one and all!" "You speak as if you were sorry that Belisarius was not killed!" "It would have served him right. I had warned him thrice. He ought by this time to know what becomes an old general and what a young brawler." "Listen," said Procopius, looking at him earnestly. "You have won the right to speak thus at the Mausoleum. Formerly, when you depreciated this man's heroism----" "You thought I spoke in envy of the brave Belisarius? Hear it, ye immortal gods!" "Yes; certainly your Gepidian laurels----" "Leave those boyish deeds alone! Friend, if necessary, a man must despise death, but else he must cherish his life carefully. For only the living laugh and rule, not the dumb dead. This is my wisdom, call it cowardice if you will. Therefore--there was an ambush. Tell me briefly, how went the fight!" "Briskly enough! After we had scoured the neighbourhood--it seemed free from enemies and safe for foraging--we gradually turned our horses' heads in the direction of the city, taking with us a few goats and half-starved sheep which we had found. Belisarius went foremost with young Severinus, Johannes, and myself. Suddenly, as we issued from the village _ad aras Bacchi_, there came galloping out of the trees on either side the Valerian Way a number of Gothic horsemen. I saw at once that they far outnumbered us, and advised that we should try to rush between them straight on the road to Rome. But Belisarius thought that though they were many, they were not too many, so he turned to the left to meet and break through one of their lines. But we were ill received. The Goths fought and rode better than our Mauretanian horsemen, and their leaders, Totila and Hildebad--I recognised the first by his flowing yellow locks, and the last by his enormous height--made straight at Belisarius. 'Where is Belisarius and his courage?' shouted tall Hildebad, audible through all the clash of arms. 'Here!' at once replied Belisarius, and before we could prevent him, he faced the giant. The latter lost no time, but struck the general's helmet so furiously with his heavy battle-axe, that the golden crest, with its plume of white horse-hair, fell to the earth, and the head of Belisarius was bowed to the saddle-bow. The giant immediately aimed a second and fatal blow, but young Severinus came up and received the stroke upon his round shield. The barbarian's axe pierced the shield, and entered deeply into the noble youth's neck. He fell----" Procopius paused, lost in painful thought. "Dead?" asked Cethegus quietly. "An old freedman of his father, who accompanied him, bore him out of the fight, but I hear that he died before they could reach the village." "A noble death!" said Cethegus. "Syphax, a cup of wine." "Meanwhile," continued Procopius, "Belisarius had recovered himself, and now, thoroughly enraged, struck his spear full at Hildebad's breast-plate, hurling him from his horse. We shouted with joy, but young Totila----" "Well?" "Had scarcely seen his brother fall, than he broke furiously through the lances of the body-guard, and attacked Belisarius. Aigan, the standard-bearer, would have protected Belisarius, but the Goth's sword pierced his left arm. Totila caught the banner from his powerless hand, and threw it to the nearest Goth. Belisarius uttered a cry of rage and turned to meet his enemy; but young Totila is quick as lightning, and before Belisarius knew what he was about, two swift strokes fell on the latter's shoulders. He wavered in his saddle, and then sank slowly from his horse, which fell dead the next moment, pierced by a spear. 'Yield, Belisarius!' cried Totila. The general had just strength enough to shake his head, and then sank insensible. I had quickly dismounted, and now lifted him upon my own horse, and placed him under the care of Johannes, who rallied his body-guard about him, and carried him quickly out of the fight to the city." "And you?" "I fought on foot, and I succeeded, with the aid of our rear-guard, who now came up--we had been obliged to sacrifice our forage--in resisting Totila. But not for long. For now the second troop of Gothic horsemen had arrived. Like a storm of wind, up rushed the black Teja, broke through our right wing--which stood nearest to him--then through the front rank, which faced Totila, and dispersed our whole array. I counted the battle lost, caught a riderless horse, and galloped after the general. But Teja also had observed the direction of his flight, and galloped after us. He overtook the escort at the Fulvian Bridge. Johannes and I had placed more than half of the rest of the body-guard on the bridge, to defend the crossing, under Principius, the brave Pisidian, and Tarmuth, the gigantic Isaurian. There, as I heard, all the thirty men, and, lastly, their two faithful leaders, fell by Teja's hand alone. There fell the flower of Belisarius's body-guard; amongst them many of my best friends: Alamundarus, the Saracen; Artasines, the Persian; Zanter, the Arminian, and many more. But their death bought our safety. At the other side of the bridge we overtook the foot-soldiers we had left behind, who now checked the enemy's horse until, late enough, the Tiburtinian Gate was opened to the wounded general. Then, as soon as we had sent him upon a litter to Antonina, I hastened to the Mausoleum of Hadrian--where, I had heard, the Goths had entered the city--and found you in danger of death." "And what has Belisarius now decided?" "His wounds are not so dangerous as yours, and yet they heal more slowly. He has granted to the Goths the armistice which they desired, in order to bury their numerous dead." Cethegus started up from his cushions. "He should have refused it; he should have suffered no useless delay of the final result. I know these Gothic bulls; they have blunted their horns; they are tired and done for. Now is the time to strike the blow which I have long contemplated. Their giant bodies can ill bear the heat outside in the glowing plains; less can they support hunger; still less thirst--for the German must be drinking if he be not snoring or fighting. It is now only necessary to intimidate yet more their prudent King. Greet Belisarius from me, and my thanks for the sword is this advice: Send Johannes, with eight thousand men, through Picenum towards Ravenna; the Flaminian road is open, and will be but slightly defended, for Witichis has collected here the garrisons of all the forts, and we can now more easily win Ravenna than the barbarians can win Rome. And as soon as the King hears that Ravenna, his last refuge, is in danger, he will hurry thither to save it at any cost; he will take away his army from these impregnable walls, and will become the persecuted instead of the persecutor." "Cethegus," said Procopius, springing up, "you are a great general!" "Only by the way, Procopius! Now go, and take my homage to the great victor, Belisarius." CHAPTER XIV. On the last day of the armistice, Cethegus was again able to appear upon the walls of the Mausoleum, where his legionaries and Isaurians greeted him with loud cheers. His first walk was to the monument of Kallistratos. He laid a wreath of laurels and roses upon the black marble slab. While he was superintending the strengthening of the fortifications from this point, Syphax brought him a letter from Mataswintha. The contents were laconic enough: "Put an end to it. I cannot bear to see this misery any longer. The sight of the interment of forty thousand of my countrymen has broken my heart. The death-choruses all seem to accuse me. I shall succumb if this continue. Famine rages fearfully in the camp. The army's last hope is a large convoy of corn and cattle, which is on the way from South Gaul. In the next calends it is expected off Portus. Act accordingly; but make an end." "Triumph!" said the Prefect. "The siege is over. Hitherto our little fleet lay idle at Populonium; but now it shall have work enough. This Queen is the Erinnys of the barbarians." And he himself went to Belisarius, who received him with noble generosity. The same night--the last of the armistice--Johannes marched out of the Pincian Gate, and wheeled to the left, towards the Flaminian high-road. Ravenna was his goal. And swift messengers sped by sea to Populonium, where a small Roman squadron lay at anchor. The fight for the city, in spite of the expiration of the armistice, was scarcely renewed. About a week after this the King, who was only now able to leave his bed of pain, took his first walk through the lines of tents, accompanied by his friends. Three of the seven camps, formerly crowded with soldiers, were completely desolated and abandoned; and the other four were but sparsely populated. Tired to death, without complaint, but also without hope, the famished soldiers lay before their tents. No cheer, no greeting, rejoiced the ears of their brave King upon his painful way; the warriors scarcely raised their tired eyes at the sound of his approaching footsteps. From the interior of the tents sounded the loud groaning of the sick and dying, who succumbed to wounds, hunger, and pestilence. Scarcely could healthy men enough be found to occupy the most necessary posts. The sentries dragged their spears behind them, too weak to carry them upright or to lay them across their shoulders. The leaders arrived at the outwork before the Aurelian Gate; in the trench lay a young archer, chewing the bitter grass. Hildebad called to him: "By the hammer, Gunthamund! what is this? Thy bow-string has sprung; why dost thou not bend another?" "I cannot, sir. The string broke yesterday as I shot my last shot; and I and my three comrades have not strength enough to bend another." Hildebad gave him a drink from his gourd-bottle. "Didst thou shoot at a Roman?" "Oh no, sir!" said the man. "A rat was gnawing at that corpse down there. I happily hit it, and we divided it between us." "Iffaswinth, where is thine uncle Iffamer?" asked the King. "Dead, sire. He fell behind you, as he was carrying you away from that cursed marble tomb." "And thy father Iffamuth?" "Dead too. He could no longer bear the poisonous water from the ditches. Thirst, King! burns more fiercely than hunger; and it will never, never rain from these leaden skies." "Are you all from the Athesis valley?" "Yes, sire; from the Iffinger mountains. Oh! what delicious spring water there is at home!" Teja observed another warrior at some distance drinking from his helmet. His features grew darker and darker. "Hey, thou, Arulf!" he cried to the warrior; "thou seem'st to suffer no thirst." "No; I often drink," said the man. "What dost thou drink?" "Blood from the wounds of the newly-fallen. At first it disgusts one terribly; but in despair one gets used to it." Witichis passed on with a shudder. "Send all my wine into the camp, Hildebad; the sentries shall share it." "All thy wine? O King! my office of cup-bearer has become very light. There are but one and a half skins left; and Hildebrand, thy physician, says that thou must strengthen thyself." "And who will strengthen _these_, Hildebad? They are reduced to the state of wild animals!" "Come back to thy tent," said Totila; "it is not good to be here." And he put his hand on the King's shoulder. Arrived at the tent, the friends seated themselves silently round the beautiful marble table, upon which, in golden dishes, lay mouldy bread, as hard as stone, and a few pieces of meat. "It was the last horse in the royal stables," said Hildebad, "except Boreas." "Boreas must not be slaughtered. My wife, my child, have sat upon his back." And Witichis rested his weary head upon both his hands. A sad pause ensued. "Friends," the King at last began, "this cannot go on. Our people perish before these walls. After a hard struggle, I have come to a painful decision--" "Do not pronounce it yet, O King!" cried Hildebad. "In a few days Earl Odoswinth, of Cremona, will arrive with the ships, and we shall luxuriate in good things." "He is not yet here," said Teja. "And will not our heavy loss of men be replaced by fresh troops when Earl Ulithis arrives from Urbinum with the garrisons which the King has summoned from all the forts of Ravenna, in order to fill our empty tents?" "Ulithis also is not yet here," said Teja. "He is said to be still in Picenum; and if he happily arrive, then the greater will be the want." "But the Roman city hungers too," said Hildebad, breaking the hard bread upon the table with his fist. "Let us see who can bear it the longest!" "I have often wondered, during these heavy days and sleepless nights," the King slowly said, "why--why all this must be. I have ever conscientiously weighed right and wrong between our enemies and us, and I can come to no other conclusion but that we have right on our side. And, truly, we have never failed in strength and courage." "Thou least of all," said Totila. "And we have grudged no sacrifice," sighed the King. "And yet if, as we all say, there is a God in heaven, just and good and almighty, why does He permit this enormous and undeserved misery? Why must we succumb to Byzantium?" "But we must not succumb!" cried Hildebad. "I have never speculated much, about our Almighty God; but if He permits _that_ to happen, we ought to storm heaven and overthrow His throne!" "Do not blaspheme, my brother," said Totila. "And thou, my noble King, take courage and trust. Yes, a good God reigns above the stars; therefore the just cause must win at last. Courage, my Witichis; hope till the end." But the heart-broken man shook his head. "I confess that I have been able to find but _one_ way out of this error; one way to get rid of this terrible doubt of God's justice. It cannot be that we suffer guiltless. And as our nation's cause is, without doubt, a just one, there must be hidden guilt in me, your King. Repeatedly, so say our heathen songs, has a King sacrificed himself for his people when defeat, pestilence, or scarcity had persecuted the nation for years. Then the King took upon himself the hidden sin which seemed to weigh upon his people, and atoned by his death, or by going sceptreless into exile, an outlawed fugitive. Let me put off the crown from my unfortunate head. Choose another King, with whom God is not angry; choose Totila, or----" "Thou ravest still in the fever of thy wounds," interrupted the old master-at-arms. "_Thou_ weighed down with guilt--thou, the most faithful of all? No! I tell you, you children of too young days, who have lost the old strength of your fathers with your fathers' old belief, and now know of no comfort for your hearts--I tell you, your distrustful speeches grieve me!" and his eyes flashed with a strange radiance as he continued, "All that rejoices or pains us here upon earth is scarcely worth our notice. Here below there is but one thing necessary, and that is, to have been a true man, and no perjurer, and to die on the battle-field, and not upon a straw bed. Then the Walkyri bear the faithful hero from the bloody field, and carry him on rosy clouds to Odin's halls, where the Einheriar greet him with full cups. There he daily rides forth at dawn to the hunting-field or the fencing-court, and at eve he returns to the banquet and the song in the golden halls. And lovely virgins caress the youths, and the elders chat about wise primeval times with the old primeval heroes. And there I shall meet again all the valiant companions of my youth; bold Winithar and Waltharis of Aquitania, and Guntharis of Burgundy. There I shall again behold him for whom I have so longed. Sir Beowulf; and I shall see the Cheruskians of ancient days, the first who ever beat the Romans, and of whom the singer of the Saxons still sings. And again I shall carry the shield and spear of my master, the King with the eagle eyes. And thus we shall live for all eternity in light and joy, the earth below and all its woes forgotten." "A fine poem, old heathen!" said Totila, with a smile. "But if all this can no longer console us for actual and heart-rending suffering? Speak thou also, Teja, thou gloomy guest. What is thy opinion of our sorrows? Thy sword never fails us; why dost thou withhold thy words? What makes thy comforting harp dumb, thou singer of singers?" "My words?" answered Teja, rising; "my words and my thoughts would be perhaps harder to bear than all our suffering. Let me yet be silent, my sun-bright Totila. Perhaps a day will come when I may answer thee. Perhaps, also, I may once more play on my harp, if but a string will vibrate." And he left the tent; for outside in the camp a confused and inexplicable noise of calling and questioning voices arose. The friends looked silently after Teja. "I guess his thoughts," at last said old Hildebrand, "for I have known him from his boyhood. He is not as other men. And in the Northland there are many who think like him, who do not believe in Thor and Odin, but only in necessity and in their own strength. It is almost too heavy a burden for a human heart to bear, and it makes no one happy to think as he does. I wonder that he can sing and play the harp notwithstanding." Just then Teja, returning, tore open the curtain of the tent; his face was still paler than before; his dark eyes flashed; but his voice was as quiet as ever as he said: "Break up the camp. King Witichis. Our ships have fallen into the enemy's hands at Ostia. They have sent the head of Earl Odoswinth into the camp. And upon the walls of Rome, before the very eyes of our sentinels, they slaughter the cattle taken from the Goths. Large reinforcements from Byzantium, under Valerian and Euthalius--Huns, Slaves and Antians--have been brought into the Tiber by many ships. For Johannes has marched through Picenum." "And Earl Ulithis?" "Has been killed and his troops beaten. Ancona and Ariminum are taken, and----" "Is that not yet all?" cried the King. "No, Witichis. Johannes threatens Ravenna, He is only a few miles distant from that city. And urgent haste is necessary." CHAPTER XV. The day after the arrival of this news, so fateful for the Goths, King Witichis abandoned the siege of Rome and led his thoroughly disheartened troops out of the four remaining camps. The siege had lasted a whole year and nine days. All courage and strength, exertion and sacrifice, had been unavailing. Silently the Goths marched past the proud walls, against which their power and good-fortune had been wrecked. Silently they suffered the taunting words cast at them from the battlements by Romans and Byzantines. They were too much absorbed by their grief and rage to feel hurt by such mockery. But when the horsemen of Belisarius, issuing from the Pincian Gate, would have pursued them, they were fiercely repulsed, for Earl Teja led the Gothic rearguard. So the Gothic army, avoiding the strongholds occupied by the enemy--Narnia, Spoletium and Perusia--marched with expedition from Rome through Picenum to Ravenna, where they arrived in time to crush the dangerous symptoms of rebellion among the population, some of whom, upon hearing of the misfortunes of the barbarians, had already entered into secret negotiations with Johannes. As the Goths approached the latter withdrew into the fortress of Ariminum, his last important conquest. In Ancona lay Konon, the navarchus of Belisarius, with the Thracian spearmen and many ships of war. The King, however, had not taken to Ravenna the whole of the army which had besieged Rome, but had, during the march, left several regiments to garrison the fortresses which he passed. One thousand men he had left under Gibimer in Clusium; another thousand in Urbs Vetus, under Albila; five hundred men in Tudertum under Wulfgis; in Auximum four thousand men under Earl Wisand, the brave bandalarius; in Urbinum two thousand under Morra; and in Cæsena and Monsferetrus five hundred. He sent Hildebrand to Verona, Totila to Tarvisium, and Teja to Ticinum, for the north-eastern part of the peninsula was also endangered by Byzantine troops, coming from Istria. In acting thus he had been also influenced by other reasons. He wished first of all to check Belisarius on his march to Ravenna. Secondly, he was afraid, in case of a siege, that if all his troops were with him, they would speedily be exposed to the evils of starvation, and, lastly, he wished to attack the besiegers in their rear from various sides. His plan was to occupy his stronghold of Ravenna, limiting himself to defensive proceedings until the foreign troops which he expected, Longobardians and Franks, should place him in a position to take the open field. But his hope of checking Belisarius on his way to Ravenna was disappointed, for the Byzantine contented himself with investing all the Gothic fortresses with a portion of his army, marching on with the main army to the capital city and last important refuge of the Goths. "If I have mortally wounded the heart," he said, "the clenched fists will open of themselves." And so, very soon, the tents of the Byzantines were seen stretching in a wide semicircle round the royal residence of Theodoric, from the harbour-town of Classis to the canals and branches of the Padus, which, particularly to the west, formed a natural line of defence. The old aristocratic city had indeed, even at that time, lost much of the glory in which it had rejoiced for nearly two centuries as the residence of the Roman emperors; and the last rays which the splendid reign of Theodoric had shed over it, were extinguished since the breaking out of the war. But even thus, what a different impression must the still thickly-populated city--similar to the present Venice--have made at that period, in comparison with its aspect at present; when the interior of the city, with its silent streets, its deserted squares and its lonely basilicas, appears to the beholder no less melancholy than the plain outside the walls, where the desolate and marshy levels of the Padus stretch far away, until they are lost in the mud of the receding sea. Where once the harbour-town of Classis was filled with active life on land and sea; where the proud triremes of the royal fleet of Ravenna rocked on the blue waters, now lie swampy meadows, in whose tall reeds and grass the wild buffalo feeds; the streets foul with stagnant water; the harbour choked with sand; the once joyous population vanished; only one gigantic tower of the time of the Goths still stands near the sole remaining Basilica, of Saint Apollonaris in _Classe fuori_, which, commenced by Witichis and completed by Justinian, now rises sadly out of the marshy plain, far from any human abode. In the time of which our story speaks the strong fortress was considered impregnable, and for that reason the emperors, when their power began to decay, had chosen it for their residence. The south-eastern side was at that time protected by the sea, which rolled its waves to the very foot of the walls, and on the other three sides nature and art had spun a labyrinthine network of canals, ditches, and swamps, begotten by the many-armed Padus, among which all besiegers were hopelessly entangled. And the walls! Even yet their mighty ruins fill the traveller with amazement. Their colossal width, and less their height than the number of strong round towers, which even now (1863) rise above the battlements, defied, before the invention of gunpowder, every means of attack. It was only by starving the city that, after a resistance of nearly four years, the great Theodoric won this, Odoacer's last place of refuge. In vain had Belisarius attempted to take the city by storm, as soon as he had reached the walls. His attack was bravely repulsed, and he was obliged to content himself with closely investing the fortress, in order by cutting off all supplies, as had formerly been done by Theodoric, to force that city to capitulate. But Witichis was able to look upon this proceeding with composure, for, with the prudence which was peculiar to him, he had, before marching to Rome, heaped up provisions of all kinds, principally corn, in extraordinary quantities. He had stored them in granaries built of wood and erected within the walls of the immense marble Circus of Theodosius. These extensive wooden edifices, situated exactly opposite to the palace and the Basilica of Saint Apollonaris, were the pride, joy, and comfort of the King. It had been impossible to convey much of the provisions to the army before Rome, and with reasonable economy these magazines would without doubt suffice for the wants of the population and the no longer formidable army for another two or three months. By that time the Goths expected the arrival of an allied army, in consequence of the newly-opened negotiations with the Franks. On its arrival the siege would necessarily be raised. But Belisarius and Cethegus knew or guessed this as well as Witichis, and they indefatigably sought on all sides for some means of hastening the fall of the city. The Prefect, of course, tried to make use of his secret relations with the Queen for the furtherance of this end. But, on the one hand, communication with Mataswintha had become very difficult, for the Goths carefully guarded all the entrances to the city; and, on the other hand, Mataswintha herself seemed greatly changed, and no longer so ready and willing as before to allow herself to be used as a tool. She had expected the speedy destruction or humiliation of the King. The long delay wearied her, and, at the same time, the immense suffering of her people had begun to shake her resolution. Lastly, the sad change in the manner of the usually strong and healthy King, the resigned but profound grief which he evidently felt, touched her heart. Although she accused him, with all the injustice of pain and the bitter pride of insulted love, of having rejected her heart and yet forced her to give him her hand; although she believed that she hated him with all the passion of her nature, and did indeed in some sort hate him, yet this hatred was only love reversed. And now, when she saw him humbled by the terrible misfortunes of the Gothic army and the failure of all his plans--to which failure she had so greatly contributed by her own treason--so humbled, that his mind had begun to be affected by sickly melancholy, and he tormented himself with reproaches; the sight powerfully affected her impulsive nature, strangely compounded as it was of the contradictory elements of tenderness and harshness. In the first moment of angry grief, she would have seen his blood flow with delight. But to see him slowly devoured by self-reproach and gnawing pain that she could not endure. This softer feeling on her part had, besides, been greatly brought about by her having noticed, since their arrival in Ravenna, a change in the King's behaviour towards herself. She thought that she observed in him traces of remorse for having so forcibly encroached upon her life, and she involuntarily softened her harsh and blunt manner to him during their rare interviews, which always took place in the presence of witnesses. Witichis considered the change as a sign that a step had been taken towards reconciliation, and silently acknowledged and rewarded it, on his part, by a more friendly manner. All this was sufficient to induce Mataswintha, with her emotional nature, to repulse the overtures of the Prefect, even when they sometimes reached her by means of the clever Moor. Now the Prefect had already learned from Syphax during the march to Ravenna, that which was known later by other means, namely, that the Goths expected assistance from the Franks. He had therefore forthwith renewed his old and intimate relations with the aristocrats and great men who ruled in the name of the mock Kings of the Merovingians in the courts of Mettis (Metz), Aurelianum (Orleans) and Suessianum (Soissons), in order to induce the Franks--whose perfidy, even then become a proverb, gave good hope that his efforts would be successful--to renounce the Gothic alliance. And when the affair had been properly introduced by these friends, he himself wrote to King Theudebald, who held his court in Mettis, impressively warning him of the risk he would run if he supported such a ruined cause as that of the Goths had undeniably become since their ill-success in the siege of Rome. This letter had been accompanied by rich gifts to his old friend, the Major Domus of the weak-minded King, and the Prefect impatiently waited, day by day, for the reply; the more impatiently because the altered demeanour of Mataswintha had cut off all the hopes he had entertained of effecting a more speedy conquest of the Goths. The answer came--at the same time with an imperial letter from Byzantium--on a day which was equally pregnant with the fate of the heroes both in and out of Ravenna. CHAPTER XVI. Hildebad, impatient at the long pause of idleness, had, one day at dawn, made a sudden sally upon the Byzantines from the Porta Faventina, which was under his special command. He had at first won great advantages, had burnt a portion of the enemies' implements of siege, and had spread terror all around. He would, without doubt, have done still more mischief had not Belisarius, hurrying up, displayed at once all his heroism and generalship. Without helmet or armour, just as he had hurried from his tent, he had first checked his own flying outposts, and had then thrown himself upon the Gothic pursuers, and by the utmost personal exertion had brought the fight to a standstill. Afterwards he had man[oe]uvred his two flanks so cleverly, that Hildebad's retreat was greatly endangered, and the Goths were obliged to retreat speedily into the city. Cethegus, who lay encamped before the Porta Honorius with his Isaurians, had found, on hastening to the assistance of Belisarius, that the fight was already over. He could not, therefore, avoid paying a visit to the commander-in-chief in his tent, in order to express his admiration of the heroes conduct, both as a general and a soldier; praise which was greedily listened to by Antonina. "Really, Belisarius," concluded the Prefect, "Emperor Justinian can never requite your valour sufficiently." "There you speak truly," answered Belisarius haughtily; "he can only requite me by his friendship. The mere honour of bearing his marshal's staff would never have induced me to do that which I have already done, and shall yet accomplish. I do it only because I really love him. With all his failings, he is a great man. If he could but learn one thing--to trust me! But patience--he will learn it in time." Just then Procopius entered, bringing a letter for Belisarius, which had been delivered by an imperial messenger. With a countenance beaming with delight, Belisarius, forgetting his fatigue, sprang from his cushions, kissed the letter, and with his dagger cut the purple cord which tied it. He unfolded the paper with the words: "From my Emperor himself! Ah, now he will send me the gold and the rest of the body-guard!" And he began to read. Antonina, Procopius, and Cethegus observed him attentively. His features grew darker and darker; his broad chest began to heave; both the hands with which he held the letter trembled. Antonina anxiously approached him, but before she could question him, Belisarius uttered a low cry of rage, cast the letter on the ground, and rushed madly out of the tent. His wife followed him. "Antonina alone dare now approach him," said Procopius, as he picked up the letter. "Let us see; no doubt it is another piece of imperial gratitude." And he glanced over the letter. "The commencement is, as usual, mere phrases. Ah, now comes something better: 'Notwithstanding, we cannot deny that we expected, according to your own former boasts, a more speedy termination to the war against these barbarians; and we believe that, with greater exertion, this would not have been impossible. For this reason we cannot comply with your repeatedly-expressed wish to have the remaining five thousand body-guards sent from Persia, and the four thousand centenari of gold which lie in your palace at Byzantium. Certainly, both, as you rather superfluously remark in your letter, are your own property; and your offer to carry this war to a conclusion, paying the expenses out of your own purse, because of the existing exhaustion of the imperial exchequer, is worthy of all praise. As, however, all your property, as you more justly add in the aforesaid letter, is at the service of your Emperor, and as your Emperor considers the desired employment of your treasure and body-guard in Italy superfluous, we have decided to appropriate it otherwise, and have already sent troops and treasure to your colleague, Narses, to be used in the Persian wars.' Ha! this is unheard of!" cried Procopius, interrupting himself. Cethegus smiled. "It is a tyrant's thanks for the services of a slave!" "And the end seems to be just as pleasant," continued Procopius. "'An increase of your power in Italy seems to us the less desirable, because we are daily warned against your boundless ambition. You are reported to have said lately, while sitting at wine, that the sceptre originated in the general's staff, and the general's staff in the stick. Dangerous thoughts and unseemly words! You see that we are faithfully informed of your ambitious dreams. This time we will warn without punishing; but we have no desire to furnish you with more wood for your general's staff; and we would remind you that the tree, which most proudly tosses its summit, is nearest to the imperial lightning.' It is shameful!" cried Procopius. "No, it is worse; it is silly!" said Cethegus. "It is whipping fidelity into rebellion." "You are right!" cried Belisarius, who had caught these words as he again rushed into the tent. "Oh, he deserves that I should desert him, the base, ungrateful, wicked tyrant!" "Be silent, for God's sake! You will ruin yourself!" cried Antonina, who had entered with her husband, and now tried to take his hand. "No, I will not be silent!" cried the angry man, as he paced to and fro close to the open door of the tent, before which Bessas, Acacius, Demetrius, and many other leaders stood listening in astonishment. "All the world shall hear me! He is an ungrateful, malicious tyrant! He deserves that I should overthrow him! that I should confirm the suspicions of his false soul!" Cethegus cast a look at those who stood outside; they had evidently heard all. Glancing at Antonina, he now went to the door and closed it carefully. Antonina thanked him by a look. She again drew near her husband, but he had thrown himself upon the ground before his couch, striking his clenched fist upon his brow and stammering: "O Justinian! have I deserved this from you? It is too much, too much!" And the strong man burst into tears. At this Cethegus contemptuously turned away. "Farewell," he said in a low voice to Procopius, "It disgusts me to see men blubber!" CHAPTER XVII. Lost in thought, the Prefect left the tent, and went round the camp to the rather distant outwork, where he had entrenched himself and his Isaurians before the Gate of Honorius. It was situated on the south side of the city, near the harbour wall of Classis, and the way led partly along the sea-shore. Although the lonely wanderer was at this moment preoccupied by the great thought which had become the pulse of his life, although he was oppressed by anxiety as to how Belisarius--that man of impulse--would act, and worried with impatience for the arrival of the answer from the Franks, his attention was yet involuntarily attracted by the singular appearance of the landscape, the sky, and the sea. It was October; but the season had seemed for weeks to have altered its laws. For almost two months it had never rained. Not a cloud, not a stripe of mist had been seen in this usually so humid part of the country. But now, quite suddenly--it was towards sunset--Cethegus remarked in the east, above the sea horizon, a single, dense, and coal-black cloud. The setting sun, although free from mist, shed no rays. Not a breath of air rippled the leaden surface of the sea; not the smallest wavelet played upon the strand. Not an olive-leaf moved in all the wide plain; not even the easily-shaken reeds in the marshy ditches trembled. No cry of an animal, no flight of a bird could be heard or perceived; and a strange choking smell, as if of sulphur, seemed to lie oppressively over land and sea, and to check respiration. The mules and horses in the camp kicked uneasily against the posts to which they were tied. A few camels and dromedaries, which Belisarius had brought with him from Africa, buried their heads in the sand. The wanderer heaved a deep breath, and looked about him in surprise. "How sultry! Just as it is before the 'wind of death' arises in the deserts of Egypt," he said to himself. "Sultry everywhere--outside and inside. Upon whose head will the long-withheld fury of Nature and Passion be let loose?" He entered his tent. Syphax accosted him. "Sir, if I were at home, I should think that the poisonous breath of the God of the Desert was coming over us." And he handed a letter to the Prefect. It was the answer of the King of the Franks. Hastily Cethegus tore open the great shining seal. "Who brought it?" "An ambassador, who, as he did not find you, immediately asked to be conducted to Belisarius. He desired to go the shortest way--through the camp." So thus Cethegus had missed him. He read eagerly: "'Theudebald, King of the Franks, to Cethegus, the Prefect of Rome. "'You have addressed to us wise words, and still wiser words you have not trusted to the letter, but have sent to us through our Major Domus. We are not disinclined to act accordingly. We accept your advice, and the gifts which accompany it. Their misfortunes have dissolved our treaty with the Goths. They may blame their evil fate and not our withdrawal. Whom Heaven forsakes, men, if they be pious and wise, should forsake also. It is true that the Goths have paid beforehand the price for the army of alliance. But, in our eyes, that is no hindrance. We will keep the treasure as a pledge, until such time as they shall cede to us the towns in South Gaul, which lie within the frontier formed by God and nature for the kingdom of the Franks. But, as we have prepared for a campaign, and our brave soldiers, who already scent the battle, would but impatiently bear the tedium of peace and might become dangerous, we are inclined, notwithstanding, to send our valiant troops over the Alps. Only, instead of fighting _for_ the Goths, they will fight against them. However, we do not wish to serve the Emperor Justinian, who continually denies us the title of King, and inscribes himself on his coins, 'Master of Gaul;' who will not allow us to impress our own image on our own coins; and has offered other unbearable affronts to our dignity. We rather think of extending our own power in Italy. Now, as we well know that the whole strength of the Emperor in that country is embodied in his commander-in-chief, Belisarius, and that the latter has a great number of old and new injuries to complain of, inflicted by his ungrateful master, we shall propose to the hero, Belisarius, to set himself up as Emperor of the West, to which end we will send him an army of a hundred thousand Frankish heroes. In return, we desire the cession of only a small part of Italy, extending from our frontier to Genoa. We hold it to be impossible that any mortal can refuse such an offer. In case you will co-operate with us, we promise you a sum of twelve centenari of gold; and, upon a return payment of two centenari, we shall place your name on the list of our messmates. The ambassador who brings you this letter--Duke Lintharis--has our order to communicate with Belisarius.'" Cethegus had read to the end with difficulty. He now broke out: "Such an offer at such a moment! In such a humour! He will accept it! Emperor of the West, with a hundred thousand Prankish warriors! He must not live!" And he hurried to the door of his tent; but he suddenly checked himself. "Fool that I am!" he laughed, "Still so hot-blooded? He is Belisarius, and not Cethegus! He will not accept. He can rebel as little as the moon can rebel against the earth, or a tame house-dog suddenly become a raging wolf. He will not accept! But now let us see to what purpose we can put the cupidity and falsity of this Merovingian. No, King of the Franks!" and he looked bitterly at the crumpled letter. "As long as Cethegus lives, not a foot of Italian soil shall you have!" He paced rapidly through his tent. Another turn--with a slower step. And a third--then he stood still, and over his mighty brow came a flash of light. "I have it!" he joyously cried. "Syphax," he called, "go and fetch Procopius." As he again paced the tent, his eyes fell upon the fallen letter of the Merovingian. "No," he laughed triumphantly, as he took it up from the ground. "No, King of the Franks, you shall not win as much of Italy's holy soil as is covered by this letter." Procopius soon appeared. The two men sat talking earnestly through the whole night. Procopius was startled at the bold and daring plans of the Prefect, and for some time refused to enter into them. But the genius of the man held him fast, overcame every objection before it was expressed, and at last he was so entangled in an inextricable network of argument, that he lost all power of resistance. The stars were pale, and the dawn illumined the east with a grey stripe of light, when Procopius took leave of his friend. "Cethegus," he said, rising, "I admire you. If I were not the historian of Belisarius, I should like to be yours." "It would be more interesting," said the Prefect quietly, "but more difficult." "But," continued Procopius, "I cannot help shuddering at the biting acrimony of your spirit. It is a sign of the times in which we live. It is like a poisonous but brilliant flower in a swamp. When I recollect how you have ruined the Gothic King by means of his own wife----" "I have something to tell you about that. Lately I have heard very little from my fair ally----" "Your ally? Your ways are----" "Always practical." "But not always---- But never mind. I am with you--for yet a little while, for I wish to get my hero out of Italy as soon as possible. He shall gather laurels in Persia instead of thorns here. But I will only go with you as far----" "As it suits you, of course." "Enough! I will at once speak with Antonina. I do not doubt of success. She is tired to death here. She burns with desire, not only to see many an old friend in Byzantium, but also to ruin the enemies of her husband." "A good bad wife!" "But Witichis? Do you think he will believe a rebellion on the part of Belisarius possible?" "King Witichis is a good soldier, but a poor psychologist. I know a much cleverer man, who yet, for a moment, believed it possible. Besides, you will bring proofs in writings and just now, forsaken as he is by the Franks--the water is up to his neck--he will snatch at any straw. Therefore I, also, do not doubt of success. Only make sure of Antonina----" "That shall be my care. At mid-day I hope to enter Ravenna as an ambassador." "Good--and do not forget to speak to the lovely Queen." CHAPTER XVIII. At mid-day Procopius rode into Ravenna. He carried with him four letters: the letter of Justinian to Belisarius, the letters of the King of the Franks to Cethegus and Belisarius, and a letter from Belisarius to Witichis. This last had been written by Procopius and dictated by Cethegus. The ambassador had no suspicion of the mood in which he should find the King of the Goths and his beautiful Queen. The healthy but simple mind of the King had begun to darken, if not to despair, under the pressure of continual misfortune. The murder of his only child, the terrible wrench of parting from his beloved wife, had shaken him to the very soul; but he had borne it all in the hope of securing victory to the Goths. And now this victory obstinately tarried. In spite of all efforts, the state of his people became more hopeless every month. With the single exception of the battle fought and won on the march to Rome, fortune had never smiled upon the Goths. The siege of Rome, undertaken with such proud hopes, had ended in a woeful retreat and the loss of three-fourths of the army. New strokes of fortune, bad news that followed each other like rapid blows, increased the King's depression, until it degenerated into a state of dull despair. Almost all Italy, except Ravenna, was lost. Belisarius, while yet in Rome, had sent a fleet to Genoa, under the command of Mundila the Herulian, and Ennes the Isaurian. The troops had landed without resistance, had conquered the sea-ruling harbour of Genoa, and, from that point, almost all Liguria. Datius, the Bishop of Mediolanum, himself invited the Byzantines to that important city. Thence they easily won Bergomum, Comum, and Novaria. On the other side, the discouraged Goths in Clusium and the half-ruined Dertona surrendered to the besiegers and were led prisoners out of Italy. Urbinum, after a brave resistance, was taken by the Byzantines; also Forum Cornelii and the whole district of Æmilia by Johannes. The Goths failed to retake Ancona, Ariminum, and Mediolanum. Still worse news presently arrived to increase the despondency of the King. For meanwhile famine was making ravages in the wide districts of Æmilia, Picenum and Tuscany. There were neither men, cattle, nor horses to serve the plough. The people fled into the woods and mountains, made bread of acorns, and devoured grass and weeds. Devastating maladies were the consequence of insufficient or unwholesome nourishment. In Picenum alone perished fifty thousand souls; a still greater number succumbed to hunger and pestilence on the other side of the Ionian Gulf, in Dalmatia, Pale and thin, those still living tottered to the grave; their skins became black and like leather; their glassy eyes started from the sockets; their intestines burned as if with fire. The vultures despised the corpses of the victims of pestilence; but human flesh was devoured by men. Mothers killed and ate their newly-born children. In a farm near Ariminum only two Roman women had remained alive. These women murdered and devoured, one after another, seventeen men, who, singly, had sought a shelter in their house. The eighteenth awoke as they were about to strangle him in his sleep. He killed the fiendish women, and discovered the fate of their earlier victims. Lastly, the hopes placed in the Franks and Longobardians were utterly destroyed. The Franks, who had already received large sums for the promised army of alliance, were silent. The messengers of the King, who were sent to urge the fulfilment of their promise, were detained at Mettis, Aurelianum, and Paris; no answer came from these courts. The King of the Longobardians sent word that he could decide nothing without the consent of his warlike son Alboin. That the latter was absent in search of adventures. Perhaps he would at some time reach Italy; he was an intimate friend of Narses. Then he could observe the country for himself, and advise his father and his countrymen as to the course to be taken. It is true that the important fortress of Auximum withstood, for months, all the efforts of the powerful army which besieged it under Belisarius, accompanied by Procopius. But it wrung the King's heart when a messenger (who had, with much difficulty, stolen his way through the two investing armies to Ravenna) brought him the following message from the heroic Earl Wisand: "When Auximum was entrusted to my care, thou saidst that therewith I should hold the keys of Ravenna; yea, of the kingdom. Thou badest me resist manfully until thou camest thyself with thy whole army to my assistance. We have manfully resisted not only Belisarius, but famine. Where is thy relief? Woe to us if thy words are true, and with this fortress the keys of our kingdom fall into the enemy's hands! Come therefore, and help us; more for the kingdom's sake than for our own!" This messenger was soon followed by a second: Burcentius, a soldier belonging to the besieging army, who had been bribed with much gold. His message ran--the short letter was written in blood: "We have now only the weeds that grow between the stones to eat. We cannot hold out longer than four days more." As this last messenger was returning with the King's reply, he fell into the hands of the besiegers, who burnt him alive in sight of the Goths before the walls of Auximum. And the King could give no help. The small party of Goths in Auximum still resisted, although Belisarius cut off the supply of water by destroying the aqueducts and poisoning the remaining wells with the corpses of men and animals, thrown in with lime. Wisand still fiercely repelled every attack. On one of these occasions Belisarius only escaped death at the sacrifice of one of his body-guard. Finally, Cæsena, the last of the Gothic towns on the Æmilia, was the first to fall; and then Fæsulæ, which was besieged by Cyprianus and Justinus. "My poor Fæsulæ!" exclaimed the King, when he learned this last disaster, for he had been the Count of that town, and close to it lay the house where he had lived so happily with Rauthgundis;--"My poor Fæsulæ! the Huns will run riot in my deserted home!" When, later, the garrison taken prisoner at Fæsulæ were led in chains before the eyes of the defenders of Auximum, and reported to the latter the hopelessness of any relief from Ravenna, the famished troops of Wisand compelled him to surrender. He stipulated for himself a free escort to Ravenna. His men were led prisoners out of Italy. And, so deeply sunk was the courage and patriotism of the conquered troops, that, led by Earl Sisifrid of Sarsina, they accepted service against their own countrymen under the flag of Belisarius. The victor had strongly garrisoned Auximum and then led the army back to the camp before Ravenna, where he now again took the command, which had been entrusted to Cethegus during his absence. It was as if a curse rested upon the head of the Gothic King, who so sorely felt the weight of his crown. As he could not ascribe the cause of his failure to any weakness or oversight on his own part; as he did not doubt in the justice of the Gothic cause, and as his simple piety could see nothing but the hand of Heaven in all his misfortunes, he conceived the torturing thought that God was punishing the Goths for some unforgiven sin committed by himself, a conviction imparted to his conscience by the then dominating doctrine of the Old Testament no less than by many features of the old Germanic legends. Day and night the King was tortured by this idea, which undermined his strength and resolution. Now he tried to discover his secret guilt; now he reflected how he could at least turn aside the curse from his people. He would long since have abdicated, but that such an act at such a moment would have been considered cowardly both by himself and others. So this escape from his misery--the quickest and best--was closed to him. His soul was bowed to the very earth. He often sat motionless for hours, silent and staring at vacancy; at times shaking his head or sighing deeply. The daily recurring sight of this resigned suffering, this dumb and hopeless bearing of an oppressive fate, was not, as we have said, without effect on Mataswintha. She thought that lately the eyes of Witichis rested upon her with an expression of sorrow and even of beneficence. And vague hope--which is so difficult to destroy in a living heart--remorse and compassion, attracted her more powerfully than ever to the suffering King. They were now often thrown together by some common errand of mercy. For some weeks the inhabitants of Ravenna had begun to suffer want, while the besiegers ruled the sea from Ancona, and received plentiful provisions from Calabria and Sicily. None but rich citizens could afford to pay the high price asked for corn. The King's kind heart did not hesitate, when he had provided his troops, to share the wealth of his magazines--which, as we have seen, contained sufficient for the wants of all for more than double the time required for the arrival of the Franks--amongst the poor of the city. He also hoped for the arrival of many ships laden with corn, which the Goths had collected in the northern districts of the Padus, and which lay in that river, waiting for an opportunity to reach Ravenna. In order to avoid any misuse of his bounty, or extravagance in the granting of rations, the King himself superintended the distribution; and Mataswintha, who one day met him among the groups of grateful people, placed herself near him upon the marble steps of the Basilica of Saint Apollonaris, and helped him to fill the baskets with bread. It was a touching sight to see this royal pair standing before the church doors, distributing their gift to the people. As they were standing thus, Mataswintha remarked among the crowd--for many country-people had fled to the city from all sides--sitting upon the lowest step of the Basilica, a woman in a simple brown mantle, which was half drawn over her head. This woman did not press forward with the others to demand bread, but leaned against a high sarcophagus, with her head resting upon her hand, and, half concealed by the corner pillar of the Basilica, looked sharply and fixedly at the Queen. Mataswintha thought that the woman was restrained by fear, pride, or shame, from mixing with the more importunate beggars who pushed and crowded each other upon the steps, and she gave Aspa a basket of bread, telling her to go down and give it to the woman. With care she heaped up the sweet-scented bread with both her hands. As she looked up, she met the eye of the King, which rested upon her with a more soft and friendly expression than she had ever seen before. She started slightly, and the blood rushed into her cheeks as she cast down her beautiful eyes. When she again looked up and glanced towards the woman in the brown mantle, she perceived that the place by the sarcophagus was empty. The woman had disappeared. She had not observed, while filling the basket, that a man, clad in a buffalo-skin and a steel cap, who had been standing behind the woman, had caught her arm and drawn her away with gentle violence. "Come," he had said; "this is no place for thee." And, as if in a dream, the woman had answered: "By God, she is wonderfully lovely!" "I thank thee, Mataswintha," said the King, in a friendly manner, when the rations for the day had been distributed. The look, the tone, the words, penetrated her heart. Never before had he called her by her name; he had ever met and spoken to her only as the "Queen." How happy those few words from his mouth had made her; and yet how heavily his kindness weighed upon her guilty soul! Evidently she had earned his more affectionate feeling by her active compassion for the poor. "Oh, he is good!" she cried to herself, half weeping with emotion. "I also will be good!" As, occupied by this thought, she entered the court of the left wing of the palace, which was assigned to her--the King inhabited the right wing--Aspa hurried to meet her. "A messenger from the camp," she eagerly whispered. "He brings a secret message from the Prefect--a letter, in Syphax's handwriting--in our language. He waits for a reply." "Leave me!" cried Mataswintha, frowning. "I will hear and read nothing.--But who are these?" And she pointed to the steps leading from the court to her apartments. There, upon the cold stones, crouched women, children, and sick people, clothed in rags--a group of misery. "Beggars," said Aspa; "poor people. They have lain there the whole morning. They will not be driven away." "They shall not be driven away," said Mataswintha, drawing near. "Bread, Queen! Bread, daughter of the Amelungs!" cried many voices. "Give them gold, Aspa. All that thou hast with thee; and fetch----" "Bread, bread. Queen--not gold! No more bread is to be had for money in all the city." "It is dispensed freely outside the King's magazines. I have just come thence. Why were you not there?" "Queen! we could not get through the crowd," said a haggard woman. "I am aged, and my daughter here is sick, and that old man is blind. The strong and young push us away. For three days we tried to go in vain. We could not get through." "Yes, and we starve," grumbled the old man. "O Theodoric! my lord and King, where art thou? Under thy rule we had enough and to spare! Then the poor and sick were not deprived of bread. But this unhappy King----" "Be silent," said Mataswintha. "The King, my husband"--and a lovely flush rose into her cheeks--"does more than you deserve. Wait here. I will bring you bread. Follow me, Aspa." And she hastened away. "Whither goest thou?" asked the slave, astonished. Mataswintha drew her veil closely over her face as she answered: "To the King!" When she reached the antechamber of the King's apartments, the door-keeper, who recognised her with amazement, begged her to wait a moment. "An ambassador from Belisarius has been admitted to a private audience. He has been in the room already for some time, and no doubt will soon leave it." Just then the door of the King's apartment was opened, and Procopius stood hesitating upon the threshold. "King of the Goths," he said, as he once again turned round, "is that your last word?" "My last; as it was my first," answered the King, with dignity. "I will give you time--I will remain in Ravenna till to-morrow----" "From this moment you are welcome as a guest, but not as an ambassador." "I repeat: if the city be taken by storm, all the Goths who are taller than the sword of Belisarius--he has sworn it--will be killed! The women and children will be sold into slavery. You understand that Belisarius will suffer no barbarians in _his_ Italy. The death of a hero may be tempting to you, but think of the helpless people--their blood will accuse you before the throne of God----" "Ambassador, you, as well as we, are in God's hand. Farewell." And these words were uttered with such majesty, that the Byzantine was obliged to go, however reluctantly. The simple dignity of the King had had a strong effect upon him; but still more upon the listening Queen. As Procopius slowly shut the door, he saw Mataswintha standing before him, and started back, dazzled by her great beauty. He greeted her reverently. "You are the Queen of the Goths!" he said. "You must be she." "I am," said Mataswintha. "Would that I had never forgotten it!" And she passed him with a haughty step. "These Germans, both men and women," said Procopius, as he went out, "have eyes such as I have never seen before!" CHAPTER XIX. Meanwhile, Mataswintha had entered her husband's presence unannounced. Witichis had left untouched all the rooms which had been occupied by the Amelungs--Theodoric, Athalaric, and Amalaswintha--and had appropriated to his own use the apartments which he had formerly been accustomed to inhabit when on duty at court. He had never assumed the gold and purple trappings of the Amelungs, and had banished from his chamber all the pomp of royalty. A low camp-bed, upon which lay his helmet, sword, and various documents, a long wooden table, and a few wooden chairs and utensils, formed the simple furniture of the room. When Procopius had taken leave, the King had thrown himself into a chair, and, supporting his weary head on his hands, leaned his elbows upon the table. Thus he had not noticed Mataswintha's light step. She remained standing near the door, reluctant to advance. She had never before sought an interview with her husband. Her heart beat fast, and she could not muster courage to address him. At last Witichis rose with a sigh, and, turning, saw the motionless figure at the door. "Thou here, Queen!" he asked with surprise, as he approached her. "What can have led thee to me?" "Duty--compassion--" Mataswintha answered quickly; "otherwise I had not---- I have a favour to ask of thee." "It is the first," said Witichis. "It does not concern me," she added hastily. "I beg for food for some poor people, who----" The King silently stretched out his right hand. It was the first time he had ever offered it. She did not dare to clasp it, and yet how gladly she would have done so. Then the King took her hand himself, and pressed it gently. "I thank thee, Mataswintha, and regret my injustice. I never believed that thou hadst a heart for thy people. I have thought unkindly of thee." "If thy thoughts had been more just from the beginning, perhaps many things might be better now." "Scarcely! Misfortune dogs my heels. Just now--thou hast a right to know it--my last hopes have been destroyed. The Franks, upon whose aid I depended, have betrayed us. Relief is impossible; the superiority of the enemy has become too great, by reason of the rebellion of the Italians. Only one thing remains to me--death!" "Let me share it with thee," cried Mataswintha, her eyes sparkling. "Thou? No. The granddaughter of Theodoric will be honourably received at the Court of Byzantium. It is known that she became my wife against her will. Thou canst appeal to that fact." "Never!" exclaimed Mataswintha with enthusiasm. Witichis, without noticing her, went on: "But the others! The thousands, the tens of thousands of women and children! Belisarius will keep his word. There is only one hope for them, one single hope! For--all the powers of nature are in league against me. The Padus has suddenly become so shallow, that two hundred ships with grain, which I had expected, could not be brought down the river, and fell into the hands of the enemy. I have now written for assistance to the King of the Ostrogoths; I have asked him to send a fleet; for ours is lost. If the ships can force their way into the harbour, then all who cannot fight may take refuge in them. And, if thou wilt, thou canst fly to Spain." "I will die with thee--with the others!" "In a few weeks the Ostrogothic sails may appear off the city. Until then my magazines will not be exhausted. That is my only comfort. But that reminds me of thy wish. Here is the key to the great door of the granaries. I carry it with me day and night. Keep it carefully--it guards my last hope. Upon its safety depend the lives of many thousands. These granaries are the only thing that has not failed. I wonder," he added sadly, "that the earth has not opened, or fire fallen from Heaven, to destroy this my work!" He took the heavy key from the bosom of his doublet. "Guard it well, it is my last treasure, Mataswintha." "I thank thee, Witichis--King Witichis," said she, and would have taken the key, but her hand trembled so much that it fell to the ground. "What is the matter?" asked the King as he picked up the key and put it into her hand. "Thou tremblest? Art thou sick!" he added anxiously. "No--it is nothing. But do not look at me so--do not look at me as thou didst this morning----" "Forgive me, Queen," said Witichis, turning away, "my looks shall no more offend thee. I have had much, too much, to grieve me lately. And when I tried to find out for what hidden guilt I could have deserved all my misfortune--" his voice grew very tender. "Then? Oh, speak!" cried Mataswintha; for she could not doubt the meaning of his unspoken thought. "I often thought amid all my doubt, that it might be a punishment for the cruel, cruel wrong I did to a noble creature; a woman whom I have sacrificed to my people----" And in the ardour of his speech he involuntarily looked at his listener. Mataswintha's cheeks glowed. She was obliged, in order to keep herself upright, to grasp the arm of the chair near her. "At last," she thought, "at last his heart awakes, and I--how have I acted towards him! And he regrets----" "A woman," continued Witichis, "who has suffered unspeakably on my account, more than words can express----" "Cease," whispered Mataswintha so softly that he did not hear it. "And when I lately saw thee so gentle, so mild, more womanly than ever before--it touched my heart, and tears came into my eyes!" "O Witichis!" breathed Mataswintha. "Every tone of thy voice penetrated deeply into my heart, for the sweet sound reminded me so vividly, so sadly----" "Of whom?" asked Mataswintha, and she turned pale as death. "Of her whom I have sacrificed! Who gave up all for me; of my wife Rauthgundis, the soul of my soul!" For how long a time had he never uttered aloud that beloved name! At the sound of his own voice, grief and longing overcame him, and sinking into a chair, he buried his face in his hands. It was well that he did so, for it spared him the sight of the Queen's sudden start, and the Medusa-like expression which convulsed her features. But the sound of a fall made him spring from his seat. Mataswintha lay upon the ground. Her left hand grasped the broken arm of the chair near which she had fallen, while her right was pressed convulsively upon the mosaic floor. Her pale face was bent down; her splendid golden hair, loosed from its bonds, flowed over her shoulders; her mobile nostrils quivered. "Queen!" cried Witichis, bending to lift her up, "what ails thee?" But before he could touch her, she started up, swift as a serpent, and stood erect. "It was only a weakness--which is already over," she panted. "Farewell!" She tottered to the door, and, closing it behind her, fell senseless into Aspa's arms. During all this time, the mysteriously threatening appearance of the atmosphere had increased. The little cloud which Cethegus had remarked the day before, had been the forerunner of an immense black wall of vapour which had arisen in the east during the night, and which, since morning, had hovered gloomily, as if brooding destruction, over the city and the greater part of the horizon. In the south, however, the sun shone with an intolerable heat from a cloudless sky. The Gothic sentries had doffed their helmets and armour; they preferred to expose themselves to the arrows of the enemy rather than suffer the unbearable heat. There was not a breath of air. The east wind, which had brought up the wall of cloud, had dropped again. The sea was grey and motionless; not a leaf of the poplars in the palace garden moved. The animal world, silent the day before, was uneasy and terrified. Over the hot sands on the shore swallows, seagulls, and marsh-birds fluttered hither and thither, without cause or aim, flying low above the ground, and often uttering shrill cries. In the city the dogs ran whining out of the houses; the horses tore themselves loose from their halters and, snorting impatiently, kicked and pranced; cats, asses, and mules uttered lamentable cries; and three of the dromedaries belonging to Belisarius killed themselves in their frantic efforts to get loose. Evening was approaching. The sun was about to sink below the horizon. In the Forum of Hercules a citizen was sitting upon the marble steps of his house. He was a vine-dresser, and, as the dry branch hung at his door indicated, himself sold the produce of his vines. He glanced at the threatening thundercloud. "I wish it would rain," he sighed. "If it does not rain, it will hail, and then all the fruit that has not been trampled by the enemy's horses will be completely destroyed." "Do you call the troops of our Emperor enemies?" whispered his son, a Roman patriot. But he said it very softly, for just then a Gothic patrol turned the corner of the Forum. "I wish Orcus would devour them all, Greeks and barbarians! The Goths at least are always thirsty. See, there comes that long Hildebadus; he is one of the thirstiest. I shall be surprised if he has no desire to drink to-day, when the very stones are cracking with heat!" Hildebad had just set the nearest watch. He held his helmet in his left hand; his lance was carelessly laid across his shoulder. He passed the wine-house--to the great astonishment of its owner--turned into the next street, and soon stood before a lofty massive round tower--it was called the Tower of Ætius. A handsome young Goth was walking up and down upon the wall in the shadow of the tower. Long light locks curled upon his shoulders, and the delicate white and red of his complexion, as well as his mild blue eyes, gave him almost a girlish aspect. "Hey! Fridugern," Hildebad called up to him. "Hey! How canst thou bear to stay up there on that gridiron? With shield and breastplate too! _Ouff_!" "I have the watch, Hildebad," answered the youth gently. "Bother the watch! Dost thou think that Belisarius will attack us in this blazing heat? I tell you he is glad if he can get air; to-day he will not thirst for blood. Come with me; I came to fetch thee. The fat Ravennese in the Forum of Hercules has old wine and young daughters--let us put both to our lips." The young Goth shook his long ringlets and frowned. "I have the watch, and no desire for girls. But thirsty I am, truly--send me a cup of wine up here." "Aha! 'tis true, by Freia, Venus, and Maria! Thou hast a bride across the mountains! And thou thinkest that she will find it out and break her promise if thou lookest too closely into a pair of black Roman eyes! Oh, dear friend, how young thou art! No, no; no malice! It is all right. Thou art nevertheless a very good fellow and wilt get older by-and-by. I will send thee some old Massikian--then thou canst drink to Allgunthis all alone." Hildebad turned back, and soon disappeared into the wine-house. Presently a slave brought a cup of wine to the young Goth, who whispered, "Here's to thee, Allgunthis!" and he emptied it at one draught. Then he took up his lance, and slowly paced to and fro on the wall. "I can at least think of her," he said; "no duty can prevent that. When shall I see her again?" He walked on, but presently stopped and stood, lost in thought, in the shadow of the great dark tower, which looked down upon him threateningly. In a short time another troop of Goths passed the tower. In their midst they led a man blindfolded, and let him out at the Porta Honorii. It was Procopius who had in vain waited for three hours, hoping that the King would change his mind. It was useless. No messenger came, and the ambassador left the city ill at ease. Another hour passed. It had become darker, but not cooler. Suddenly a strong blast of wind rose from the sea. It drove the black cloud toward the north with great rapidity. It now hung dense and heavy over the city. But the sea and the south-eastern horizon were not thereby rendered clear, for a second and similar wall of cloud closely followed the first. The whole sky had now become one black vault. Hildebad, drowsy with wine, went towards his night-watch at the Porta Honorii. "Still at thy post, Fridugern?" he called to the young Goth in passing. "And still no rain. The poor earth, how thirsty it will be! I pity it! Goodnight!" It was insufferably sultry in the houses, for the wind blew from the scorching deserts of Africa. The people, alarmed by the threatening appearance of the heavens, came out of doors, walking in companies through the streets, or sitting in groups in the courtyards and under the colonnades of the churches. A crowd of people sat upon the steps of Saint Apollonaris. And, though the sun had scarcely set, it was already as black as night. Upon her couch in her bed-chamber lay Mataswintha, the Queen, in a kind of heavy stupor, her cheeks pale as death. Her wide open eyes stared into the darkness. She refused to answer Aspa's anxious questions, and presently dismissed the weeping slave with a motion of her hand. As she lay thinking, these names passed continuously and monotonously through her mind: Witichis--Rauthgundis--Mataswintha! Mataswintha--Rauthgundis--Witichis! Thus she lay for a long, long time; and it seemed as if nothing could ever interrupt the unceasing circle of these words. Suddenly a red light flashed into the room, and at the same moment a peal of thunder, louder than she had ever before heard, clattered over the trembling city. A scream from her women caught her ear, and she started upright on her couch. Aspa had divested her of her upper garment; she wore only her under-dress of white silk. Throwing the falling tresses of her splendid hair back over her shoulder, she leaned on her elbow and listened. There was an awful stillness. Then another flash and another peal. A rush of wind tore open the window of feldspath which looked into the court. Mataswintha stared out at the darkness, which was illuminated at every moment by a vivid flash of lightning. The thunder rolled incessantly, overpowering even the fearful howling of the wind. Mataswintha felt relieved by this strife of the elements. She looked out eagerly. Just then Aspa hurried in with a light. It was a torch, the flame of which was protected from the wind by a glass globe. "Queen, thou--but, by all the gods! how dost thou look? Like a Lemure--like the Goddess of Revenge!" "Would that I were!" said Mataswintha, without taking her eyes from the window. They were the first words that she had spoken for hours. Flash after flash, and peal after peal. Aspa closed the window. "O Queen! the Christian maids say that the end of the world has come, and that the Son of God will come down upon fiery clouds to judge the living and the dead. Oh! what a flash! And yet there is not a drop of rain. I have never seen such a storm. The gods are very angry." "Woe to those with whom they are angry! Oh, I envy the gods! They can love and hate as they like. They can annihilate those who do not adore them." "O mistress! I was in the streets; I have just returned. All the people stream into the churches, praying and singing. I pray to Kairu and Astarte. Mistress, dost thou not pray?" "I curse. That, too, is a kind of prayer." "Oh, what a peal!" screamed the slave, and fell trembling on her knees. The dark blue mantle which she wore slid from her shoulders. The thunder and lightning had now become so violent, that Mataswintha sprang from her couch and ran to the window. "Mercy, mercy!" prayed the slave. "Have pity upon us, ye great gods!" "No, no mercy--a curse upon us miserable mortals! Ha! that was splendid! Dost thou hear how they scream with fear in the streets? Another, and yet another! Ha! ye gods--if there be a God or gods--I envy ye but one thing: the power of your hate and your deadly lightning. Ye hurl it with all the rage and lust of your hearts, and your enemies vanish. Then you laugh; the thunder is your laughter. Ha! what was that!" A flash and a peal of thunder which outdid all that had gone before. Aspa started from her knees. "What is that great building, Aspa? That dark mass opposite? The lightning must have struck it. Is it on fire?" "No, thanks to the gods! The lightning only lit it up. It is the granaries of the King." "Ha! has your lightning failed?" cried the Queen. "But mortals, too, can use the lightning of revenge." And she left the window. The room became suddenly dark. "Queen--mistress--where art thou? Whither hast thou gone?" cried Aspa. And she felt along the walls. But the room was empty, and Aspa called her mistress in vain. Below in the streets a procession wound its way to the Basilica of Saint Apollonaris. Romans and Goths; children and old people; very many women. Boys with torches walked first; behind came priests with crucifix and banners. Through the growling of the thunder and the roaring of the wind sounded the ancient and solemn chorus: "Dulce mihi cruciari, Parva vis doloris est; Malo mori quam f[oe]dari; Major vis amoris est." And the choir answered: "Parce, judex, contristatis Parce pecatoribus, Qui descendis perflammatis Ultor jam in nubibus." And the procession disappeared into the church. The overseers of the corn-magazines had also joined the crowd of worshippers. Upon the steps of the Basilica, exactly opposite the door of the magazines, sat the woman in the brown mantle, calm and fearless amid the uproar of the elements; her hands not folded, but resting quietly on her lap. The man in the steel cap stood near her. A Gothic woman, who was just hurrying into the church, recognised her by the light of a flash of lightning. "Thou here again, countrywoman? Without shelter? I have offered thee my house, often enough. Thou appearest strange here in Ravenna?" "I am so; but still I have a lodging." "Come into the church and pray with us." "I pray here." "But thou neither singest nor speakest." "Yet still God hears me." "Pray for the city. They fear that the end of the world is at hand." "I am not afraid." "Pray for our good King, who daily gives us bread." "I do pray for him." Just then two Gothic patrols came clattering round the corner, and met opposite the Basilica. "Aye, thunder till the skies crack!" scolded the leader of one of the bands; "but do not hinder me in my duty. Halt! Wisand, is it thou? Where is the King? In the church also?" "No, Hildebad; upon the walls." "That is right; that is his place. Forwards! Long live the King!" Their steps died away. A Roman tutor, with some of his pupils, passed by. "But, magister," said the youngest boy, "I thought you were going to the church? Why do you take us out in this storm?" "I only spoke of church to get you out of the house. Church! I tell you, the fewer roofs and walls about one the better. I am going to take you out into the great meadow in the suburbs. I wish it would rain. If Vesuvius were near, as it is in my native place, I should think that Ravenna was about to become a second Herculaneum. I know such an atmosphere as we have to-day--it is dangerous." And they went on. "Wilt thou not come with me, mistress?" the man in the steel cap asked the Gothic woman. "I must try to find Dromon, else we shall get no lodging tonight. I cannot leave thee alone in the dark. Thou hast no light with thee." "Dost thou not see that the lightning never ceases? Go; I will come afterwards. I have still something to think of--and to pray for." And the woman remained alone. She pressed both hands against her bosom and looked up at the black sky; her lips moved slightly. Just then it seemed to her as if, in the high outer galleries, passages, and upper rooms of the mighty wooden edifice which towered in a dark mass opposite, a light came and went, wandering up and down. She thought it must have been a deception caused by the lightning, for any open light would have been extinguished by the wind. But no; it really was a light, for its appearance and disappearance alternated at regular intervals, as if the person carrying it were hurrying along the galleries and passing behind the pillars and supports. The woman attentively watched the changing light and shadow---- But suddenly--oh, horror!--she started up. It seemed to her as if the marble step upon which she was sitting had been some sleeping animal, which, suddenly awaking, moved slightly, then rose--and turned itself--violently--from left to right. Thunder, lightning, and wind ceased all at once. There! from the granaries sounded a shrill scream. The light flamed up brightly, and then disappeared. But the woman in the street also uttered a low cry of fear, for now she could no longer doubt--the earth quaked under her. A slight movement; then two, three strong shocks, as if the ground had heaved from left to right like a wave. Screams of fear rose from the city. The people rushed out of the doors of the Basilica. Another shock! The woman kept her feet with difficulty. And, from the farther side of the city, sounded a dull and distant crash, as if of heavy falling masses. A fearful earthquake had shaken all Ravenna. CHAPTER XX. As the woman turned in the direction of the sound, she stood for a moment with her back to the granaries. But she suddenly looked round, for she thought she heard the bang of a heavy door. She looked attentively in that direction, but it was too dark to see anything. She heard, however, something rustling along close to the outer wall of the building, and she thought she caught the sound of a low sigh. "Stop!" she cried, "who moans there?" "Peace, peace!" whispered a strange voice. "The earth--disgusted--shook and trembled! The last day has come--it will reveal all. He will soon know.--Oh!" A groan of pain--a rustle of garments--then complete silence. "Where art thou? Art thou wounded?" asked the woman, seeking on the ground. A flash of lightning--the first since the earthquake--showed her a shrouded form lying at her feet. A woman dressed in white and blue. The Gothic woman stretched out her hand, but the prostrate form sprang up at her touch, and, with a scream, disappeared into the darkness. All this had passed rapidly, and seemed like some frightful dream, but a broad gold bracelet, ornamented with a green serpent in emeralds, remained in the Gothic woman's hand, a proof of the reality of the mysterious vision. And again the iron steps of the Gothic patrol approached. "Hildebad, Hildebad, help!" cried Wisand. "I am here! What is the matter? Where shall I go?" asked Hildebad, advancing with his men. "To the Gate of Honorius! The wall has fallen, and the tower of Ætius lies in ruins. Help! Into the breach!" "I come! Poor, poor Fridugern!" Outside, in the camp of the Byzantines, Cethegus the Prefect rushed into Belisarius's tent. He was in full armour, his plume of crimson horsehair tossed upon his helm. His bearing was proud. His eyes flashed. "Up! Why do you linger, Belisarius? The walls of your enemy's citadel fall of themselves! The last refuge of the last King of the Goths lies open before you! Why do you remain in your tent?" "I adore the Almighty," said Belisarius with composure. Antonina stood near him, her arm about his neck. A praying-stool and a tall crucifix showed in what occupation the stormy entrance of the Prefect had disturbed them. "Do that to-morrow, after the victory. But now, storm the city!" "Storm the city now?" cried Antonina. "What sacrilege! The earth is shaken to its foundations, for God the Lord speaks in this elemental strife!" "Let Him speak! We will act. Belisarius, the tower of Ætius and a portion of the walls have fallen. I ask you, will you not storm the city?" "He is not wrong," said Belisarius, in whom the lust of battle was awakening. "But it is a dark night----" "To victory and the heart of Ravenna I will find my way even in the dark. And it lightens besides." "You are all at once very eager for the fight," said Belisarius hesitatingly. "Yes, for there is good reason. The barbarians are startled. They fear God and forget their enemies." At this moment Procopius and Marcus Licinius hurried into the tent together. "Belisarius," cried the first, "the earthquake has thrown down the barracks by the northern trench, and has buried half a cohort of your Illyrians!" "My poor people!" cried Belisarius, and at once left the tent. "Cethegus," said Marcus, "one of your cohorts also lies buried under their barracks." But, impatiently shaking his head, the Prefect asked: "How is the water in the Gothic moat before the tower of Ætius? Has not the earthquake lessened it?" "Yes, the water has disappeared--the moat is quite dry. Hark, what a cry! It is your Illyrians! They cry for help!" "Let them cry!" said Cethegus. "Is the moat really dry? Then give the signal to storm. Follow me with all the Isaurians that are still alive." And in the midst of thunder and lightning, which now again raged unceasingly, the Prefect hurried to the trenches where his Roman legions and the rest of the Isaurians stood under arms. He quickly counted them. There were far too few to take the city alone, but he knew that a moderate success would immediately cause Belisarius to join him. "Lights! torches!" he cried, and stepped to the front of his Roman legions with a torch in his left hand. "Forward!" he cried. "Draw your swords!" But not a hand was raised. Dumb with astonishment and terror, the whole troop--even the leaders, even Licinius--looked at the demonic man, who, in the midst of all Nature's rebellion, thought only of his goal, and of using the strife of the elements and the terrors of the Almighty as means to prosecute his own ends. "Well? which is your duty? To listen to the thunder, or to me!" he cried. "General," said a centurion, stepping forward, "the men pray; for the earth quaked." "Do you think that Italy will devour her own children? No, Romans; see! The very earth quakes at the tread of the barbarians. It rises, breaks its bonds, and their walls fall. Roma, Roma æterna!" His words took effect. It was one of those Cæsarian speeches which move men to great deeds. "Roma, Roma æterna!" cried, first Licinius, and after him thousands of Roman youths; and through night and storm, through thunder and lightning, they followed the Prefect, whose grand enthusiasm irresistibly carried them away. Excitement lent wings to their feet. They were soon across the wide moat which usually they scarcely dared to approach. Cethegus was the first to reach the opposite side. The wind had extinguished the torches. But he found his way in the dark. "Here, Licinius!" he cried, "follow me! Here must be the breach." He sprang forward, but ran against some hard body and staggered back. "What is that!" asked Lucius Licinius behind him. "A second wall?" "No," said a quiet voice, "but a Gothic shield!" "That is King Witichis!" said the Prefect furiously, and with bitter hatred he looked at the dark figure before him. He had counted upon a surprise. His hope was frustrated. "If I but had him," he said to himself, "he should never hinder me again!" Looking behind, he now saw many torch-lights and heard the flourish of trumpets. Belisarius was leading his troops to storm the walls. Procopius reached the Prefect. "Well, why do you stop? Do new walls keep you back?" "Yes, living walls. There they stand," and the Prefect pointed forward with his sword. "Under the still tottering ruins, these Goths! Truly," cried Procopius-- "'Si fractus illabatur orbis, Impavidos ferient ruinæ!' They are courageous men!" But now Belisarius was at hand with his compact lines, ready for the assault. One moment more--the leaders were still hurrying to and fro, giving orders--and a terrible slaughter would begin. But suddenly all the sky above the city was flooded with a red light. A column of flame shot up into the air, and countless sparks descended. It seemed to rain fire from heaven. All Ravenna glowed in the crimson light. It was a fearful but beautiful spectacle. Both armies, ready to mingle in a hand-to-hand combat, halted and hesitated. "Fire! fire! Witichis, King Witichis!" shouted a horseman, who came galloping from the city; "it burns!" "We see it. Let it burn, Markja! First fight and then extinguish." "No, no, sire; all the granaries burn! The grain flies in myriads of sparks through the air." "The granaries are burning!" cried Goths and Byzantines. Witichis had no heart to ask questions. "The lightning must have kindled the interior long ago. It is quite burnt out. Look! look!" A stronger gust of wind fanned the fire, which flamed up higher than ever. The flames caught the nearest roofs, and, at the same time, the wooden ridge of the lofty building seemed to fall, for, after a heavy crash, the sparks shot up thicker than ever. It was a sea of fire. Witichis tried to lift his hand to give an order--but his arm fell, faint and powerless. Cethegus saw it. "Now!" he cried; "now let us assault!" "No; halt!" thundered Belisarius. "He who lifts his sword is the Emperor's enemy and dies! Back to the camp--all. Now Ravenna is mine! To-morrow it will fall without a struggle." His troops obeyed him and drew back. Cethegus was in a fury. He alone was too weak to oppose the order. He was obliged to yield. His plans were ruined. He had wished to take the city by storm in order--as he had done in Rome--to take possession of its principal defences. And he foresaw that it would be now delivered completely into the hand of Belisarius. He led his troops away in disgust. But the events which actually occurred afterwards, were very different to what either the Prefect or Belisarius had expected. CHAPTER XXI. The King had left the breach in the wall and the Tower of Ætius to the care of Hildebad, and hurried at once to the place of the conflagration. When he arrived he found the fire dying out--but merely for want of more combustibles. The whole contents of the magazines, together with the wooden walls and roofs, and everything that could burn, had been destroyed; not a remnant of corn nor a splinter of wood was left. The naked smoke and soot-blackened stone walls of the marble Circus alone still rose into the sky. Not a sign of its having been struck by lightning could be seen. The fire must have glimmered for some time after the lightning had kindled the woodwork, and spread slowly and unseen through the interior of the building; and when smoke and flame had burst through the apertures in the roof, it was too late to save the structure. The inhabitants had enough to do to save the neighbouring houses, of which many had already caught fire in various places. The rain, which began to fall shortly before daybreak, came to their assistance. The wind, thunder and lightning had ceased; but when the sun broke through the clouds it only illumined, instead of the granaries, a miserable heap of rubbish and ashes in the middle of the marble Circus. The King leaned against one of the pillars of the Basilica, sadly and silently looking at the ruins. For a long time he stood motionless, only sometimes he drew his mantle more closely over his heaving chest. A painful resolution was ripening in his soul, which seemed to have become as still as the grave. But round about him the place was full of the misery of the poor people of Ravenna, who prayed, scolded, wept and cursed. "Oh! what will now become of us?"--"Oh, how sweet and good and white was the bread which we received but yesterday!"--"What shall we eat now?"--"Bah, the King must help us."--"Yes, the King must give us bread."--"The King? Ah, the poor man! where will he get it?"--"He has no more."--"That's another thing!"--"He alone has brought us to this pass!"--"It is his fault!"--"Why did he not surrender the city to the Emperor long ago?"--"Yes, to its rightful master!"--"Curses on the barbarians! It is all their fault!"--"No, no, it is only the King's fault!"--"Do you not understand? It is a punishment from God!"--"Punishment? Why? What wrong has he done? Has he not given bread to the people?"--"Then you do not know? How can a bigamist deserve the grace of God? The wicked man has two wives. He lusted for the beauty of Mataswintha, and did not rest until she became his. He put away his lawful wife." Witichis indignantly descended the steps. He was disgusted with the people. But they recognised him. "There is the King! How gloomy he looks!" they called to each other, avoiding him. "Oh, I don't fear him! I fear hunger more than his anger. Give us bread. King Witichis! Do you hear? We are starving!" cried a ragged old man, catching at the King's mantle. "Bread, King!" "Good King, bread!" "We are in despair!" "Help us!" And the crowd gathered round him with wild gestures. Quietly but decisively the King freed himself. "Have patience," he said gravely; "before the sun sets you shall have bread." And he hurried to his room. There a Roman physician and some of Mataswintha's attendants awaited him. "Sire," said the physician, "the Queen, your wife, is very sick. The terrors of last night have disturbed her mind. She speaks as if in delirium. Will you not see her?" "Not now. Have a care of her." "With an air of great distress and anxiety she gave me this key," added the physician. "It appeared to be the principal subject of her wandering speeches. She took it from under her pillow, and she made me swear to give it into your own hands, as it was of great importance." With a bitter smile the King took the key and threw it on one side. "It is no longer of importance. Go; leave me: and send my secretary." An hour later, Procopius admitted Cethegus into the tent of the commander-in-chief. As he entered, Belisarius, who was pacing to and fro with hasty steps, cried out: "This comes of your plans, Prefect--of your arts and lies! I always said that lies are the source of ruin. I do not understand such ways! Oh, why did I follow your advice? Now I am in great straits!" "What mean these virtuous speeches?" Cethegus asked Procopius. The latter handed him a letter. "Bead. These barbarians are unfathomable in their grand simplicity. They conquer the devil by virtue of their childlike minds. Read." And Cethegus read with amazement: "'Yesterday thou didst acquaint me with three things: that the Franks had betrayed me; that thou, allied with them, wilt wrest the West from the ungrateful Emperor; and that thou offerest the Goths a free departure, unarmed, over the Alps. Yesterday I answered that the Goths would never give up their arms, nor Italy, the conquest and inheritance of their great King, and that I would rather fall here with my whole army than do so. This I answered yesterday. I say so still, although earth, air, fire, and water are allied against me. But last night, as I watched the flames which were devouring my stores, I felt sure of what I have long dimly suspected. That a curse lies upon me. For my sake the Goths perish. This shall go on no longer. The crown upon my head has hitherto prevented me from taking an honourable course; it shall prevent me no longer. Thou art right to rebel against the false and ungrateful Justinian! He is our enemy and thine. Well then--instead of placing thy confidence in an army of faithless Franks, place it in the whole Gothic nation, whose strength and fidelity are known to thee! With the first thou wouldst share Italy; with us thou canst keep it all. Let me be the first to greet thee as Emperor of the West and King of the Goths. All the rights of my people remain untouched; thou simply takest my place. I myself will set my crown upon thy head, and verily, no Justinian shall then tear it from thee! If thou rejectest this offer, prepare for such a battle as thou hast never yet fought. I will break into thy camp with fifty thousand Goths. We shall fall, but with us thy whole army. The one and the other. I have sworn it. Choose. "'WITICHIS.'" For one moment the Prefect was terribly alarmed. He cast a swift and searching look at Belisarius. But a single glance sufficed to set him at ease. "It is Belisarius," he said to himself, "but it is always dangerous to play with the devil. What A temptation!" He returned the letter, and said with a smile: "What an idea! To what strange things can desperation lead!" "The idea would not be bad," observed Procopius, "if----" "If Belisarius were not Belisarius," said Cethegus, smiling. "Spare your smiles," said Belisarius. "I admire the man, and I cannot take it amiss that he thinks I am capable of revolt. Have I not pretended to be so?" and he stamped his foot. "Now advise and help me! You have led me to this miserable alternative. I cannot say yes; and if I say no--I may look upon the Emperor's army as annihilated, and, into the bargain, must confess that I pretended to revolt!" Cethegus reflected in silence, slowly stroking his chin with his left hand. Suddenly a thought seemed to flash across his mind. A ray of joy beautified his face. "In this way I can ruin them both," he said to himself. At this moment he was exceedingly contented with himself. But first he wished to make sure of Belisarius. "Reasonably, you can only do one of two things," he said hesitatingly. "Speak: I see neither the one nor the other." "Either really accept----" "Prefect!" cried Belisarius in a rage, and put his hand on his sword. Procopius caught his arm in alarm. "Not another such word, Cethegus, if you value your life!" "Or," continued Cethegus quietly, "seem to accept. Enter Ravenna without a stroke of the sword, and send the Gothic crown, together with the Gothic King, to Byzantium." "That is splendid!" cried Procopius. "It is treason!" cried Belisarius. "It is both," said Cethegus calmly. "I could never look a Goth in the face again!" "It will not be necessary. You will take the King a prisoner to Byzantium. The disarmed nation will cease to be a nation." "No, no, I will not do it." "Good. Then let your whole army make its will. Farewell, Belisarius. I go to Rome. I have not the least desire to see fifty thousand Goths fighting in despair. And how Emperor Justinian will praise the destroyer of his best army!" "It is a terrible alternative!" cried Belisarius. Cethegus slowly approached him. "Belisarius," he said, with a voice which seemed to come from his very heart, "you have often held me to be your enemy. And I am, in some sort, your adversary. But who can be near Belisarius in the field of battle and not admire him!" His manner had a suavity and solemnity seldom seen in the sarcastic Prefect. Belisarius was touched, and even Procopius wondered. "I am your friend whenever possible. In this case I will prove my friendship by giving you good advice. Do you believe me, Belisarius?" And he laid his left hand upon the heroes shoulder, and offered him his right, looking frankly into his eyes. "Yes," said Belisarius. "Who can mistrust such a look!" "See, Belisarius! Never has a noble man had such a distrustful master as yours. The Emperor's last letter is the greatest offence to your fidelity." "Heaven knows it!" "And never has a man"--here he took both the hands of Belisarius--"had a more splendid opportunity to put ignoble mistrust to shame, to revenge himself gloriously, and to prove his fidelity. You are accused of aspiring to the Empire of the West! By God, you have it in your power! Enter Ravenna--let Goths and Italians do you homage and place a double crown upon your head. Ravenna yours, with your blindly devoted army, the Goths and Italians--truly you are unassailable. Justinian will tremble before Belisarius, and his haughty Narses will be but a straw against your strength. But you--who have all this in your hand--you will lay all the glory and the power at your master's feet and say: 'Behold, Justinian, Belisarius would rather be your servant, than ruler of the Western Empire.' So gloriously, Belisarius, has fidelity never yet been proved upon earth." Cethegus had hit the mark. The general's eyes flashed. "You are right, Cethegus. Come to my heart. I thank you. It is nobly thought. O Justinian, you shall blush with shame!" Cethegus withdrew from the embrace, and went to the door. "Poor Witichis," whispered Procopius, as he passed; "he is sacrificed to this masterpiece of truth! Now he is indeed lost." "Yes," said Cethegus, "he is lost most surely." Outside the tent he added, as he threw his mantle over his shoulder: "But you, Belisarius, more surely still!" Arrived at his quarters, he found Lucius Licinius in full armour. "Well, general!" asked Lucius. "The city has not yet surrendered. When shall we fight?" "The war is over, my Lucius. Doff your arms and gird yourself for a journey. This very day you must carry some private letters for me." "To whom?" "To the Emperor and Empress." "In Byzantium?" "No. Fortunately they are quite near, at the Baths of Epidaurus. Hasten! In fifteen days you must be back again. Not half a day later. The fate of Italy awaits your return." As soon as Procopius brought the answer of Belisarius to the Gothic King, the latter summoned to his palace the leaders of the army, the principal Goths, and a number of trustworthy freemen, and communicated to them what had happened, demanding their acquiescence. At first they were exceedingly surprised, and complete silence followed his words. At last Duke Guntharis, looking at the King with emotion, said: "The last of thy royal deeds, Witichis, is as noble, yea, nobler than all thy former acts. I shall ever regret having once opposed thee. Long since I swore in my heart to atone by blindly obeying thee. And truly--in this case thou alone canst decide; for thy sacrifice is the greatest--a crown! But if another than thou shalt be King--the Wölfung's can better endure to serve a stranger, a Belisarius, than some other Goth. So I agree to what thou sayest, and tell thee that thou hast acted well and nobly." "And I say no! a thousand times no!" cried Hildebad. "Think what you do. A stranger at the head of the Goths!" "Have not other Germans done the same before us--Quadians; Herulians, and Markomannians?" said Witichis calmly. "Even our most glorious Kings--even Theodoric? They served the Emperor and received land in exchange. So runs the treaty with Emperor Zeno, by which Theodoric took possession of Italy. I do not count Belisarius less than Zeno, and myself, truly, not better than Theodoric!" "Yes, if it were Justinian," interposed Guntharis. "Never would I submit to the false and cowardly tyrant!" cried Hildebad. "But Belisarius is a hero--canst thou deny it? Hast thou forgotten how he thrust thee off thy horse?" "May the thunder strike me if I forget it! It is the only thing in him which has ever pleased me." "And fortune is with him, as misfortune is with me. We shall be as free as before, and only fight his battles against Byzantium. We shall be revenged on our common enemy." Almost all those present now agreed with the King. "Well, I cannot contradict you in words," said Hildebad; "my tongue has ever been more clumsy than my sword. But I feel sure that you are wrong. Had we but the Black Earl here, he would say what I can only feel. May you never regret this step! But permit me to quit this monstrous kingdom. I will never live under Belisarius. I will go in search of adventures. With a shield and spear and a strong hand, a man can go a great way." Witichis hoped to change the intention of his trusty comrade in private conversation. At present he continued to carry forward that which he had at heart. "You must know," he said, "that first of all Belisarius has made it a condition that nothing should be published until he has occupied Ravenna. It is to be feared that some of his leaders, with their troops, will hear nothing of a rebellion against Belisarius. These, as well as the suspicious quarters of Ravenna, must be surrounded by the Goths and the trustworthy adherents of Belisarius before all is made known." "Take care," said Hildebad, "that you yourselves do not fall into a trap! We Goths should not try to spin such spiders' toils. It is as if a bear should try to dance on a rope--he would fall, sooner or later. Farewell--and may this business turn out better than I expect. I go to take leave of my brother. He, if I know him, will soon reconcile himself to this Roman-Gothic State. But Black Teja, I think, will go away with me." In the evening a report ran through the city that terms of capitulation had been made and accepted. The conditions were unknown. But it was certain that Belisarius, at the desire of the King, had sent large stores of bread, meat, and wine into Ravenna, which were distributed amongst the poor. "He has kept his word!" cried the people; and blessed the name of the King. Witichis now asked after the health of the Queen, and learned that she was gradually recovering. "Patience," he said, taking a deep breath; "she also will soon be at liberty, and rid of me!" It was already growing dark, when a strong company of mounted Goths made their way through the city to the breach at the Tower of Ætius. A tall horseman went first. Then came a group, carrying a heavy burden, hidden by cloths and mantles, upon their crossed lances. Then the rest of the men in full armour. "Unbolt the gate!" cried the leader; "we want to go out." "Is it thou, Hildebad?" asked Earl Wisand, who commanded the watch, and he gave the order to open the gate. "Dost thou know that to-morrow the city will surrender? Whither wilt thou go?" "To freedom!" cried Hildebad; and spurred his horse forward. CHAPTER XXII. Many days passed before Mataswintha fully recovered from the delirium of fever and the uneasy slumbers, haunted by terrible dreams, which followed. She had become dull and impassive to all that passed around her, taking no interest in the great changes which were in preparation. She appeared to have no other feeling than that of the enormity of her crime. The triumphal exultation which she had felt while rushing through the night with her torch, had given place to devouring remorse, horror, and dread. At the moment of committing the wicked deed, the earthquake had thrown her upon her knees, and in her excitement, in the pang of awakening conscience, she thought that the very earth was rising up against her, and that the judgment of Heaven was about to fall upon her guilty head. And when, on reaching her chamber, she presently saw the flames, which her own hand had kindled, reddening all the sky; when she heard the cries and lamentations of Ravennese and Goths; the flames seemed to scorch her heart and every cry to call down curses upon her. She lost her senses; she was overwhelmed by the consequences of her deed. When she came to herself and gradually recollected all that had passed, her hatred of the King was completely spent. Her soul was bowed down; she was filled with deep remorse; and a terrible fear of ever having to appear before him again came upon her, for she well knew, and now heard from all sides, that the destruction of the magazines would oblige the King to surrender to his enemies. Himself she did not see. Even when he found a moment in which to ask personally after her health, she had conjured the astonished Aspa on no account to let him approach her, although she had left her couch many days ago, and had frequently admitted the poor of the city; had, indeed, invited the sufferers to apply to her for help. At such times she had given the provisions intended for herself and her attendants to the poor with her own hands, and divided amongst them her jewels and gold with unlimited generosity. It was one of these visits that she was expecting, after having been petitioned by a man in a brown mantle and steel cap to grant a private audience to a poor woman of her nation. "She has a message which concerns the King. She has to warn you of some treachery which threatens his crown and perhaps his life," the man had said. Mataswintha at once granted his request. Even if it were a mistake, an excuse, she could now never more refuse to admit any one who came with a message concerning the King's safety. She ordered the woman to come at sunset. The sun had gone down. In the south there is almost no twilight, and it was nearly dark when a slave beckoned to the woman, who had been waiting in the court for some time, to come forward. The Queen, sick and sleepless during the night, had only fallen asleep at the eighth hour. She had just awoke, and was very weak. Notwithstanding, she would receive the woman, because she said her message concerned the King. "But is that really true?" inquired the slave----it was Aspa. "I should not like to disturb my mistress without cause. If you only want gold, say so freely; you shall have as much as you wish--only spare my mistress. Does it really concern the King?" "It does." With a sigh, Aspa led the woman into the Queen's chamber. The form of Mataswintha, clad in light white garments, her head and hair covered by a folded kerchief, was relieved against the dark background of the spacious chamber, lying upon a couch, near which stood a round table in mosaic. The golden lamp, which was fixed to the wall above the table, shed a faint light. Mataswintha rose and seated herself, with an air of fatigue, upon the edge of her couch. "Draw near," she said to the woman. "Thy message concerns the King? Why dost thou hesitate? Speak!" The woman pointed at Aspa. "She is silent and faithful." "She is a woman." At a sign from the Queen, the slave reluctantly left the room. "Daughter of the Amelungs, I know that nothing but the strait in which the kingdom stood, and not love, led thee to Witichis.--(How lovely she is, although pale as death!)--Yet thou art the Queen of the Goths--his Queen--and even if thou dost not love him, his kingdom, his triumph, must be all in all to thee." Mataswintha grasped the gilded arm of her couch. "So thinks every beggar in the nation!" she sighed. "To the King I cannot speak, for special reasons," continued the woman. "Therefore I speak to thee whose province it is to succour and warn him against treason. Listen to me." And she drew nearer, looking keenly at the Queen.--"How strange," she said to herself; "what similarity of form!" "Treason! still more treason?" "So thou too suspectest treason?" "It is no matter. From whom? From Byzantium? From without? From the Prefect?" "No," the woman answered, shaking her head. "Not from without; from within. Not from a man; from a woman." "What dost thou say?" asked Mataswintha, turning still paler. "How can a woman----" "Injure the hero? In the devilish wickedness of her heart. Not openly, but by cunning and treachery; perhaps with secret poison, as has already happened; perhaps with secret fire." "Hold!" Mataswintha, who had just risen, staggered back to the table and leaned upon it. But the woman followed her and whispered softly: "I must tell thee of an incredible, shameful act! The King and the people believe that the lightning set the magazines on fire, but I know better. And _he_ shall know it. He shall be warned by _thee_, so that he may discover the rank offender. That night I saw a torch-light passing through the galleries of the magazines, and it was carried by a woman. _Her_ hand cast it amongst the stores! Thou shudderest? Yes, a _woman_. Wherefore wilt thou go? Hear one other word, and I will leave thee. The name? I do not know it. But the woman fell just at my feet, and, recovering, escaped; but as she went, she lost a sign and means of recognition--this snake of emeralds." And the woman held up a bracelet in the light of the lamp. Mataswintha, tortured to death, started upright. She held both arms over her face. The hasty movement disturbed her kerchief. Her red-gold hair fell over her shoulders, and through the hair gleamed a golden bracelet with an emerald snake, which encircled her left arm. The woman saw it and screamed: "Ha! by the God of the faithful! It was thou--thou thyself! _His_ Queen--his _wife_ has betrayed him! He shall know it! Curses upon thee!" With a piercing cry, Mataswintha fell back upon her couch and buried her face in the cushions. The scream brought Aspa from the adjoining room. But when she entered, the Queen was alone. The curtain of the door still rustled. The beggar had disappeared. CHAPTER XXIII. The next morning Procopius, Johannes, Demetrius, Bessas, Acacius, Vitalius, and many other Byzantine leaders arrived in the city, and, to the great astonishment of the Ravennese, entered the King's palace. They assembled there to take counsel as to particular stipulations, and to decide upon the form of surrender. Meanwhile the Goths heard only that peace was concluded. The two principal considerations, for the sake of which they had endured all the grievous war, were obtained. They would be free, and remain in undisturbed possession of the lovely Southland, which had become so dear to them. That was far more than could have been expected, considering the desperate state at which the Gothic cause had arrived since the retreat from Rome and the inevitable loss of Ravenna; and the heads of the great families, and other influential men in the army, who were now made acquainted with the intentions of Belisarius, were completely satisfied with the conditions agreed upon. The few who refused acquiescence were freely allowed to depart from Ravenna and Italy. But, apart from this, the Gothic army in Ravenna had already been dispersed in all directions. Witichis saw that it was impossible to feed the Gothic army and the population, as well as the hosts of Belisarius, from the produce of the exhausted land; he therefore agreed to the proposal of Belisarius, that the Goths, in companies of a hundred or a thousand, should be led out of the gates of the city and dismissed in all directions to their native places. Belisarius feared the outbreak of despair when the terrible treachery practised should become known, and he therefore wished for the speedy dispersal of the disbanded army. Once in Ravenna, he hoped to be able to quell any possible rebellion in the open country without difficulty. Tarvisium, Verona, and Ticinum, the last strongholds of the Goths in Italy, could not then, for any length of time, resist the forces which would be sent against them. The execution of these measures was the work of many days. Only when very few Goths were left in Ravenna did Belisarius decide upon entering the city. And even of the few who remained, half were transferred to the Byzantine camp, the other half being divided amongst the different quarters of the city, under the pretext of being ready to crush any possible resistance on the part of Justinian's adherents. But what surprised the Ravennese and the uninitiated Goths the most was, that the blue Gothic flag still waved upon the roof of the palace. Certainly it was guarded by a Byzantine instead of by a Gothic sentinel. For the palace was already full of Byzantines. Belisarius had taken particular measures against any attempt of the Prefect to make himself master of the city, as he had done of Rome. Cethegus saw through this and smiled. He did nothing to prevent it. On the morning of the day appointed for the entrance, Cethegus entered the tent of Belisarius, clad in a magnificent suit of armour. He found only Procopius. "Are you ready!" he asked. "Perfectly." "At what time shall it take place?" "At the moment when the King mounts his horse in the courtyard of the palace in order to ride to meet Belisarius. We have thought of everything." "Once more of everything!" said Cethegus, with a laugh. "Yet one thing you have left to me. It is certain that as soon as our plan has succeeded and become known, that the barbarians all over the country will fly into a rage. Revenge and compassion for their King may cause them to commit furious deeds. But all their enthusiasm for Witichis and anger against us would be nipped in the bud; they would consider themselves betrayed by their King, and not by us, if we could get him to sign a document to the purport that he did not surrender the city to Belisarius as the King of the Goths and a rebel against the Emperor, but simply to Justinian's commander-in-chief. Then the revolt of Belisarius, which will actually not take place, would seem to the Goths to have been a mere lie invented by their King in order to hide from them the shame of the surrender." "That would be excellent; but Witichis will not do it." "_Knowingly_, scarcely; but perhaps unknowingly. He has only signed the treaty in the original yet?" "He has signed only once." "And the document is in his possession? Good. I will make him sign the duplicate which I have drawn up, so that Belisarius also may possess the valuable document." Procopius looked at it. "If he sign this, then, indeed, not a Goth will raise his sword in his defence. But----" "Let me manage the 'buts.' Either he will voluntarily sign it to-day, unread, under pressure of the moment----" "Or?" "Or," concluded Cethegus gloomily, "he will sign it later, against his will. I will now go before you. Excuse me if I do not assist at your triumphal procession. Many congratulations to Belisarius." But as he turned to go, Belisarius himself entered the tent, unarmed, and looking very sullen. He was followed by Antonina. "Hasten, general," cried Procopius, "Ravenna waits for her conqueror. The entrance----" "Speak not of it!" cried Belisarius angrily. "I regret the whole affair! Recall the soldiers!" Cethegus remained standing at the entrance of the tent. "Belisarius!" cried Procopius, horrified, "what demon has put you into this temper?" "I!" said Antonina proudly. "What do you say now?" "I say that great statesmen have no business with wives," cried Procopius angrily. "Belisarius told me your intentions only last night," said Antonina, "and with tears----" "Of course!" grumbled Procopius. "Tears always come when wanted." "With tears I prayed him to refrain. I cannot bear to see my hero so spotted with black treachery." "And I will not be so," said Belisarius. "Rather would I ride into Orcus a prisoner, than as _such_ a conqueror into Ravenna! My letters to the Emperor have not yet been sent away--so there is still time----" "No!" cried Cethegus imperiously, coming forward from the doorway, "fortunately for you there is _not_ still time. I wrote to the Emperor eight days ago, told him all, and congratulated him on his general's having won Ravenna and put an end to the war without the slightest loss." "Indeed, Prefect!" cried Belisarius. "You are very ready! Wherefore this zeal?" "Because I know Belisarius and his wavering mind. Because you must be _forced_ into taking advantage of your good fortune, and because I wish to make an end to this war which so cruelly devastates my Italy!" And he approached Antonina threateningly, who again could not avoid the demonic fascination of his glance. "Dare it! try it now! Dare to retreat, to undeceive Witichis, and sacrifice Ravenna, Italy, and your whole army to a whim of your wife! Then see if Justinian would ever forgive you! On Antonina's soul the guilt! Hark! the trumpets sound! Arm yourself! There is no choice!" And he hurried out. Antonina looked after him in dismay. "Procopius," she asked, "does the Emperor really know it already?" "Even if he did not, too many are initiated into our secret. In all cases he would learn afterwards that Ravenna and Italy were his, and--that Belisarius strove for the Gothic and the imperial crown. Nothing can justify Belisarius in the Emperor's eyes, except the fact of gaining Ravenna, and delivering it to Justinian." "Yes," said Belisarius, sighing, "he is right. I have no choice left." "Then go!" said Antonina, intimidated. "But excuse me from accompanying you. It is no triumph, but a laying of a trap." The population of Ravenna, although in the dark as to the particular conditions, were still certain that peace was concluded, and the long and terrible suffering they had endured at an end. In their joy at this deliverance, the citizens had cleared away the ruins caused by the earthquake in many of the streets, and had festively decorated the city. Wreaths, flags, and carpets were hung out; the people crowded the forums, the canals of the lagoons, and the baths and basilicas, curious to see the hero, Belisarius, and the army which had so long threatened their walls, and had, at last, overcome the barbarians. Already some divisions of the Byzantine army marched proudly through the gates, while the scattered and scanty Gothic patrols beheld, in silence and indignation, the entrance of their hated enemies into the residence of Theodoric. The Gothic nobles assembled in a hall in the gaily-decorated palace, near the apartment of the King. The latter, as the hour for the entrance of Belisarius approached, prepared to don his royal garments--with great contentment, for it was the last time that he would ever wear the signs of a dignity which had brought him nothing but pain and wretchedness. "Go, Duke Guntharis," he said to the Wölfung, "Hildebad, my faithless chamberlain, has left me; thou, therefore, must take his place. The attendant will show thee the golden chest which contains the crown, helm, and purple mantle, the sword and shield of Theodoric. To-day, for the first and last time, I will array myself in them, in order to deliver them to a hero who will wear them not unworthily. What noise is that?" "Sire," answered Earl Wisand, "it is a Gothic woman. She has tried to force her way in thrice already. Send her away!" "No; tell her I will listen to her later. She shall ask for me this evening at the palace." As Guntharis left the room, Bessas entered with Cethegus. The Prefect had given Bessas--without initiating him into the secret--the duplicate of the capitulation, which the King had yet to sign. He thought that Witichis would take the document more unsuspiciously from an innocent hand. Witichis greeted them as they entered; but at the sight of the Prefect there passed a shadow across his countenance, which had before been brighter than for many months. But he forced himself to say: "You here, Prefect of Rome? The war has ended very differently to what we expected! However, you may be satisfied. At least no Grecian Emperor, no Justinian, will rule over your Rome." "And shall not, as long as I live." "I come, King of the Goths," interrupted Bessas, "to lay before you the treaty with Belisarius, in order that you may sign it." "I have already done so." "It is the duplicate intended for my master." "Then give it me," said Witichis, and stretched out his hand to take it. But before he could do so, Duke Guntharis hurried into the room with the attendant. "Witichis," he cried, "the royal insignia have disappeared!" "What sayest thou?" asked Witichis. "Hildebad alone kept the key!" "The golden chest and other chests are gone. Within the empty niche, where they usually stood, lay this strip of parchment. The characters are those of Hildebad's secretary." The King took it and read: "'Crown, helm and sword, purple and shield of Theodoric are in my care. If Belisarius will have them, he may fetch them.' The Runic character H-- for Hildebad!" "He must be followed until he yield them up," cried Cethegus. At this moment Demetrius and Johannes hurried in. "Make haste. King Witichis," they cried. "Do you hear the trumpets? Belisarius has already reached the Gate of Stilicho." "Then let us go," said Witichis, allowing his attendant to place the purple mantle, which they had brought instead of the missing one, upon his shoulders, and pressing a golden coronet upon his head. Instead of the sword, a sceptre was handed to him; and thus adorned, he turned to the door. "You have not yet signed, King," said Bessas. "Give it to me," and now Witichis took the parchment from the hand of the Byzantine. "The document is very long," he said, glancing over it; and then began to read. "Haste, King," said Johannes. "There is no time to read it," said Cethegus, with an indifferent voice, and took a reed-pen from the table. "Then there is no time to sign it," said the King. "You know I am the '_Peasant_-King,' as the people call me. And a peasant never signs a letter before he has read to what he commits himself. Let us go," and, smiling, he gave the document to the Prefect and left the room. Bessas and all present followed, except Cethegus. Cethegus crushed the document in his hand. "Wait!" he whispered furiously. "You shall yet sign!" And he slowly followed the others. The hall leading to the King's apartment was already empty. The Prefect went into the vaulted gallery which ran round the quadrangle of the first story of the palace. The Byzantine-Roman arches afforded a free outlook into the large courtyard. It was filled with armed men. At all the four doors were placed the Persian lance-bearers of Belisarius. Cethegus leaned against an archway and, watching the course of events, spoke to himself. "Well, there are Byzantines enough to take a small army prisoner! Friend Procopius is prudent. There! Witichis appears at the door. His Goths are still far behind upon the staircase. The King's horse is led forward. Bessas holds the stirrups. Witichis is close to it; he lifts his foot. Now comes a blast of trumpets. The door of the staircase is closed and the Goths shut into the palace! Procopius tears down the Gothic flag on the roof. Johannes takes the King's right arm--bravo, Johannes! The King defends himself valiantly--but his long mantle hinders him--he staggers! He falls to the ground! There lies the kingdom of the Goths!" "There lies the kingdom of the Goths!" with these words Procopius also concluded the sentences which he wrote down in his diary that night. "To-day I have assisted in making an important piece of history," he wrote, "and will take note of it to-night. When I saw the imperial army enter the gates and the King's palace of Ravenna, I thought that indeed it is not always merit, virtue, or number that ensures success. There is a higher power, inevitable necessity. In number and heroism the Goths were superior to us, and they did not fail in every possible exertion. The Gothic women in Ravenna scolded their husbands to their faces when they saw the slight forms, the small number of our troops as they marched in. Summa: in the most righteous cause, with the most heroic efforts, a man or a nation may succumb, if superior powers, which have not always the better right on their side, oppose him. My heart beat with a sense of wrong as I tore down the Gothic flag and set the golden Dragon of Justinian in its place, as I raised the flag of evil above the flag of righteousness. Not justice, but a necessity which is inscrutable, rules the fate of men and nations. But that does not confuse a true man. For not _what_ we do, live, or suffer--_how_ we do or bear it, makes a man a hero. The Goths' defeat is more honourable than our victory. And the hand which tore down their banner will chronicle the fame of this people for future generations. Notwithstanding, however that may be--there lies the kingdom of the Goths!" FOOTNOTE: [Footnote 1: Procopius, in his "Wars of the Goths," vol. i., pp. 7, 18, places here, in mistake, the Tiber instead of the Anio.] END OF VOL. II. BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD, SURREY. _H. L. & Co._ 
32377	----	Transcriber's Notes: 1. Page scan source: http://www.archive.org/details/astruggleforrom02dahngoog 2. Diphthong oe and OE are represented by [oe] and [OE]. A STRUGGLE FOR ROME. BY FELIX DAHN. _T R A N S L A T E D F R O M T H E G E R M A N_ BY LILY WOLFFSOHN. "If there be anything more powerful than Fate, It is the courage which bears it undismayed." GEIBEL. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III. LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON. 1878. [_All Rights Reserved._] A STRUGGLE FOR ROME. BOOK IV.--_Continued_. WITICHIS. CHAPTER XXIV. Thanks to the precautions taken by Procopius, the trick had succeeded completely. At the moment in which the flag of the Goths fell and their King was taken prisoner, they were everywhere surprised and overpowered. In the courts of the palace, in the streets and canals of the city and in the camp, they were surrounded by far superior numbers. A palisade of lances met their sight on all sides. Almost without an exception the paralysed Goths laid down their arms. The few who offered resistance--the nearest associates of the King--were struck down. Witichis himself, Duke Guntharis, Earl Wisand, Earl Markja, and the leaders of the army who were taken prisoners with them, were placed in separate confinement; the King imprisoned in the "prison of Theodoric," a strong and deep dungeon in the palace itself. The procession from the Gate of Stilicho to the Forum of Honorius had not been interrupted. Arrived at the palace, Belisarius summoned the Senate and decurions of the city, and took their oaths of allegiance for Emperor Justinian. Procopius was sent to Byzantium with the golden keys of Neapolis, Rome, and Ravenna. He was to give a full report to the Emperor, and to demand for Belisarius the prolongation of his office until Italy had been completely tranquillised, as could not fail to be the case presently, and afterwards, as had been the case after the Vandal wars, to accord him the honour of a triumph, with the exposure of the King of the Goths, as prisoner of war, in the Hippodrome. For Belisarius looked upon the war as ended. Cethegus almost shared this belief. But still he feared the outbursts of indignation amongst the Goths in the provinces. Therefore he took care that, for the present, no report of the manner in which the city had fallen should pass the gates; and he pondered upon some means of making use of the imprisoned King himself, to palliate the possible renewal of national feeling in the Goths. He also persuaded Belisarius to send Acacius, with the Persian horsemen, to follow Hildebad, who had escaped in the direction of Tarvisium. In vain he tried to speak to the Queen. She had not yet fully recovered the effects of the night of the earthquake, and admitted no one. She had even listened to the news of the fall of the city with indifference. The Prefect gave her a guard of honour, in order to make sure of her, for he had great plans in connection with her. Then he sent her the sword of the King, accompanying it with a note. "I have kept my word. King Witichis is ruined, you are revenged and free. Now it is your turn to fulfil my wish." A few days later, Belisarius, deprived of his constant adviser Procopius, called the Prefect to an interview in the right wing of the palace, where he had taken up his quarters. "Unheard-of mutiny!" he cried, as Cethegus entered. "What has happened?" "You know that I placed Bessas, with the Lazian mercenaries, in the trenches of the Gate of Honorius, one of the most important points of the city. Hearing that the temper of these troops was insubordinate I recalled them--and Bessas----" "Well?" "Refuses to obey." "Without reason? Impossible!" "A ridiculous reason! Yesterday the term of my office expired." "Well?" "And Bessas declares that since midnight I am no longer his commander!" "Shameful! But he is in the right." "In the right! In a few days the Emperor's reply will arrive, according to my wish. He will naturally, after the conquest of Ravenna, again appoint me as commander-in-chief, until the war is ended. The news may be here the day after to-morrow." "Perhaps still sooner, Belisarius. At sunset the watchman on the lighthouse of Classis announced the approach of a ship coming from Ariminum. It appears to be an imperial trireme. It may run into harbour at any hour. Then the knot will be loosened." "I will cut it beforehand. My body-guard shall storm the trenches and strike the head off the obstinate Bessas----" He was interrupted by the entrance of Johannes. "General," he cried, "the Emperor is here! The Emperor, Justinian himself, has just anchored in the harbour of Classis." Cethegus involuntarily started. Was such a thunderbolt from a clear sky, such a whim of the incalculable despot, after such toil, to overthrow the almost perfect structure of his plans? But Belisarius, with sparkling eyes, asked: "The Emperor? How do you know?" "He comes himself to thank you for your victory--never was such honour done to mortal man! The ship from Ariminum bears the imperial flag--purple and silver. You know that that indicates the actual presence of the Emperor." "Or of a member of his family," interposed Cethegus thoughtfully, and once more breathing freely. "Let us hasten to the harbour, to receive our Imperial master," cried Belisarius. He was disappointed in his joy and pride when, on their way to Classis, they were met by the first courtiers who had disembarked, and who demanded quarters in the palace, not for the Emperor, but for his nephew Germanus. "At least he sends the next in rank," said Belisarius--consoling himself--to Cethegus as they went on. "Germanus is the noblest man at court. Just, incorruptible, and pure. They call him 'The Lily of the Swamp.' But you do not listen to me!" "Pardon! but I saw my young friend Lucius Licinius in the crowd of people who are approaching us." "Salve, Cethegus!" cried Lucius as he made his way to the Prefect. "Welcome to free Italy! What news from the Empress?" asked Cethegus in a whisper. "Her parting word, 'Nike!' (Victoria), and this letter," Lucius whispered just as softly. "But," and he frowned, "never again send me to that woman!" "No, no, young Hippolytus, I think it will never again be necessary." They had now reached the quay of the harbour, the steps of which the Imperial Prince was just ascending. His noble form distinguished itself from the crowd of splendid courtiers who surrounded him, and he was received by the troops and the people with imperial honours and cries of joy. Cethegus looked keenly at him. "His pale face has become still paler," he remarked to Licinius. "Yes. They say that the Empress, because she could not seduce him, has poisoned him." The Prince, bowing his acknowledgments to all sides, had now reached Belisarius, who greeted him reverently. "I return your greeting, Belisarius," said the Prince gravely; "follow me at once to the palace. Where is Cethegus the Prefect? Where is Bessas? Ah, Cethegus!" he said, grasping the latter's hand, "I am glad to see again the greatest man in Italy. You will presently accompany me to the granddaughter of Theodoric. To her belongs my first visit. I bring her gifts from Justinian and my humble service. She was a prisoner in her own kingdom; she shall be a queen at the Court of Byzantium." "That she shall!" thought Cethegus. He bowed profoundly and said, "I know that you are acquainted with the Princess already. Her hand was once destined for you." A flush rapidly spread over the cheek of the Prince. "But unfortunately," he answered, "not her heart. I saw her here years ago, at her mother's court, and since then, my mind's eye has beheld nothing but her picture." "Yes, she is the loveliest woman on earth," said the Prefect quietly. "Accept this chrysolite as thanks for that word!" cried Germanus, and put a ring upon the Prefect's finger. They entered the door of the palace. "Now, Mataswintha," said Cethegus to himself, "now a new life begins for you. I know no Roman woman--one girl perhaps excepted--who could resist such a temptation. And shall this rude barbarian withstand?" As soon as the Prince had partially recovered from the fatigue of the voyage, and had exchanged his travelling dress for a state-costume, he appeared, with Cethegus at his side, in the throne-room of the great Theodoric. The trophies of Gothic valour still hung on the walls of the lofty and vaulted hall. On three sides ran a colonnade; in the middle of the fourth stood the elevated throne of Theodoric. The Prince ascended the steps of the throne with dignity. Cethegus with Belisarius, Bessas, Demetrius, Johannes, and numerous other leaders, remained standing at a short distance. "In the name of my Imperial master and uncle, I take possession of this city of Ravenna and of the Western Roman Empire," said Germanus. "To you, magister militum, this writing from our master the Emperor. Break the seal, and read it before the assembly. Such were the orders of Justinian." Belisarius stepped forward, received the letter upon his knees, kissed the seal, rose, opened it, and read: "'Justinian, Emperior of the Romans, Lord of the East and West, conqueror of the Persians and Saracens, of the Vandals and Alans, of the Lazians and Sabirians, of the Huns and Bulgarians, the Avarians and Slavonians, and lastly of the Goths, to Belisarius the Consul, lately magister militum. We have been acquainted by Cethegus the Prefect with the events which led to the fall of Ravenna. His report will, at his request, be communicated to you. We, however, cannot at all agree with the good opinion, therein expressed, of you and your successes; and we dispense you from your office as commander-in-chief. We order you by this letter to return at once to Byzantium, to answer for yourself before our throne. We can the less accord you a triumph, such as you received after the Vandal wars, because neither Rome nor Ravenna fell through your valour; Rome having freely capitulated, and Ravenna having fallen by means of an earthquake, which was a sign of the anger of the Almighty against the heretics, and against highly suspicious actions, the harmlessness of which you, accused of high treason, must prove before our throne. As, in consideration of former merit, we would not condemn you unheard--for East and West shall celebrate us to all time as the King of Justice--we refrain from arresting you as your accusers wish. Without chains--only bound by the fetters of your own self-accusing conscience--you will appear before our Imperial countenance.'" Belisarius reeled; he could read no further; he covered his face with his hands and let the letter fall. Bessas lifted it up, kissed it, and read on: "'We name the strategist Bessas as your successor in the army. We charge the Archon Johannes with the care of Ravenna. The administration of the taxes will remain--in spite of the highly unjust complaints made against him by the Italians--in the hands of the logician Alexandros, who is so zealous in our service. And as our Governor in Italy we name the highly-deserving Prefect of Rome, Cornelius Cethegus Cæsarius. Our nephew Germanus, furnished with Imperial power, is answerable for your transport to our fleet off Ariminum, whence Areobindos will take you to Byzantium.'" Germanus rose, and ordered all present, except Belisarius and Cethegus, to leave the hall. Then he descended from the throne, and went up to Belisarius, who was now totally unconscious of what was going on around him. He stood immovable, leaning his head and arm against a column, and staring at the ground. The Prince took his right hand. "It pains me, Belisarius, to be the bearer of such a message. I undertook it, because I thought that a friend would fulfil such an errand more gently than any of the enemies who were eager to do it. But I cannot deny that this last victory of yours cancels the fame of many former ones. Never could I have expected such a game of lies from the hero Belisarius! Cethegus begged that his report to the Emperor should be laid before you. It is full of your praise. Here it is. I believe it was the Empress who kindled the anger of Justinian against you. But you do not hear----" And he laid his hand upon the shoulder of the unfortunate man. Belisarius shook it off. "Let me alone, boy! You bring me--you bring me the true thanks of a crowned head!" Germanus drew himself up with dignity. "Belisarius, you forget yourself, and who I am!" "Oh no! I am a prisoner, and you are my gaoler. I will go at once on board your ship--only spare me chains and fetters." It was very late before the Prefect could get away from the Prince, who spoke to him with the greatest frankness on state affairs and his own personal wishes. As soon as Cethegus was alone in his rooms, which had also been appointed to him in the palace, he hastened to read the letter which Lucius Licinius had brought from the Empress. It ran thus: "You have conquered, Cethegus. As I read your epistle I thought of old times, when your letters to Theodora, written in the same cipher, did not talk of statesmanship and warfare, but of kisses and roses----" "She must always remind me of that!" cried the Prefect, interrupting his perusal of the letter. "But even in this letter I recognise the irresistible intellect that, more even than your youthful beauty, conquered the women of Byzantium. And this time also I accede to the wishes of the old friend as I once did to those of the young one. Ah, how I love to think of our youth--our sweet youth! I fully understand that Antonina's spouse would stand far too securely for the future if he did not fall now. So--as you wrote me--I whispered to the Emperor that a subject who could play such a game with crowns and rebellion was too dangerous; no general ought to be exposed to such temptations. What he had this time feigned, he could, at another time, carry into earnest practice. These words weighed more heavily than all Belisarius's success, and my--that is, your--demands were granted. For mistrust is the very soul of Justinian. He trusts no one on earth, except--Theodora. Your messenger, Lucius, is _handsome_, but unamiable; he has nothing in his head but weapons and Rome. Ah, Cethegus, my friend, youth is now no more what it was! You have conquered, Cethegus--do you remember that evening when I first whispered those words?--but do not forget to whom you owe your victory. And mind: Theodora permits herself to be used as a tool only so long as she likes. Never forget that." "Certainly not," said Cethegus, as he carefully destroyed the letter. "You are too dangerous an ally, Theodora, my little demon! I will see whether you cannot be replaced.--Patience! In a few weeks Mataswintha will be in Byzantium." CHAPTER XXV. The round tower, in the deepest dungeon of which Witichis was confined, was situated at the angle of the right wing of the palace, the same in which he had dwelt and ruled as King. The iron door of the tower formed the end of a long passage which led from a court, and which was separated from this court by a heavy iron gate. Exactly opposite this gate, on the ground-floor of the building at the left side of the court, was the small dwelling of Dromon, the _carcerarius_ or gaoler of the prison. This dwelling consisted of two small chambers; the first, which was separated from the second by a curtain, was merely an ante-room. The inner chamber afforded an outlook across the court to the round tower. Both rooms were very simply furnished. A straw couch in the inner room, and two chairs, a table, and a row of keys upon the walls in the outer room, was almost all that they contained. Upon the wooden bench in the window abovementioned, sat, day and night--her eyes fixed upon the hole in the wall, through which alone light and air could penetrate to the King's prison--a silent and thoughtful woman. It was Rauthgundis. Her eyes never left the little chink in the wall, "For," she said to herself, "thither turn all my thoughts--there, where _his_ eyes too are ever fixed." Even when she spoke to her companion, Wachis, or to the gaoler, she never turned her eyes away. It seemed as if she thought that her mere look could guard the prisoner from every danger. On the day of which we speak she had sat thus for a long time. It was evening. Dark and threatening the massive tower rose into the sky, casting a broad shadow over the court and the left wing of the palace. "Thanks, O Heavenly Father," murmured Rauthgundis; "even the strokes of fate have led to good. If, as I once intended, I had gone to my father upon the High Arn, I should never have heard of all the misery here. Or far too late. But I could not bear to forsake the last resting-place of my child near our home. The last, indeed, I was obliged to leave, for how could I know that _she_, his Queen, would not come there? I dwelt in the woods near Fæsulæ, and when news came of failure, and one misfortune followed another; when the Persians burnt our house, and I saw the flames from my hiding-place; it was too late to escape to my father. All the roads were blocked, and the Italians delivered all whom they found with yellow hair into the hands of the Massagetæ. No way was open but the road here--to the city where I had ever refused to go as _his_ wife. I came like a fugitive beggar. Wachis, the slave, now the freedman, and Wallada, our horse, alone remained faithful to me. But--forced by God's hand to come, whether I would or not--I found that it was only that I might save _him_--deliver him from the shameful treachery of his wife, and out of the hands of his enemies! I thank Thee, O God, for this Thy mercy!" Her attention was attracted by the rattling of the iron gate opposite. A man with a light came through it across the court, and now entered the ante-room. It was the old gaoler. "Well? Speak! cried Rauthgundis, leaving her seat and hurrying to him. "Patience--patience! Let me first set down the lamp. There! Well, he has drunk and it has done him good." Rauthgundis laid her hand upon her heart. "'What is he doing?" she asked. "He always sits in the same position, perfectly silent. He sits on a stone block, his back turned to the door, his head supported on his hands. He gives me no answer when I speak to him. Generally he does not even move; I believe grief and pain have stupefied him. But to-day, when I handed him the wine in the wooden cup and said, 'Drink, dear sir; it comes from true friends,' he looked up. Ah, his look was so sorrowful, as sad as death! He drank deeply, and bowed his head thankfully, and gave such a sigh, that it cut me to the heart." Rauthgundis covered her eyes with her hand. "God knows what horrid thing that man means to do to him!" the old man murmured to himself. "What sayest thou?" "I say that you must eat and drink well, or else you will lose your strength; and you will need it before long, poor woman!" "I shall have strength enough!" "Then take at least a cup of wine." "Of this wine? No, it is all for him!" And she went back into the inner chamber, where she again took her old place. "The flask will last some time," old Dromon said to himself; "but we must save him soon, if he is to be saved at all. There comes Wachis. May he bring good news, else----" Wachis entered. Since his visit to the Queen he had exchanged his steel cap and mantle for clothes borrowed from Dromon. "I bring good news!" he cried, as he entered. "But where were you an hour ago? I knocked in vain." "We had both gone out to buy wine." "To be sure; that is the reason why the whole room smells so sweet. What do I see? Why, this is old and costly Falernian! How could you pay for it?" "Pay for it?" repeated the old man. "With the purest gold in the world! I told you that the Prefect had purposely let the King starve, in order to undermine his health. For many days I have received no rations for him. Against my conscience I have kept him alive by depriving the other prisoners. This Rauthgundis would no longer suffer. She fell into deep thought, and then asked me whether the rich Roman ladies still paid so dearly for the yellow locks of the Gothic women. Suspecting nothing, I said 'Yes.' She went away, and soon returned shorn of her beautiful auburn hair, but with a handful of gold. With this the wine was bought." Wachis went into the next room, and kissing the hand of Rauthgundis, exclaimed: "Good and faithful wife!" "What art thou doing, Wachis? Rise, and tell me thy news." "Yes, tell us," said Dromon, joining them. "What says my Paukis? What advice does he give?" "What matters his advice?" asked Rauthgundis. "I can manage alone." "We need him very much. The Prefect has formed nine cohorts, after the model of the Roman legionaries, of all the youth of Ravenna, and my Paulus is enrolled amongst them. Luckily, the Prefect has entrusted the guard of the city gates to these legionaries. The Byzantines are placed outside the city in the harbour; the Isaurians here in the palace." "Yes," continued Wachis; "and these gates are carefully closed at night; but the breach near the Tower of Ætius is not yet repaired. Only sentinels are placed there to guard it." "When has my son the watch?" "In two days. He will have the third night-watch." "Thanks be to the saints! It could not have lasted much longer. I feared----" He hesitated. "What? Speak!" cried Rauthgundis. "I can bear to hear everything." "Perhaps it is well that you should know it; for you are cleverer than we two, and will better find out what is to be done. I fear they have something wicked in their heads. As long as Belisarius had the command here, it went well with the King. But since Belisarius has gone and the Prefect--that silent demon!--is master of the palace, things look dangerous. He visits the King every day, and speaks to him for a long time, earnestly and threateningly. I have often listened in the passage. But it seems to have little effect, for the King, I believe, never answers him; and when the Prefect comes out, he looks as black as thunder. For six days I have received no wine for the King, and only a little piece of bread; and the air down there is as mouldy and damp as the grave." Rauthgundis sighed deeply. "Yesterday," continued Dromon, "when the Prefect came up, he looked blacker than ever. He asked me----" "Well? Tell me, whatever it may be!" "He asked me whether the instruments of torture were in good order!" Rauthgundis turned pale, but remained silent. "The wretch!" cried Wachis. "What did you----" "Do not be afraid; all is safe for a time. 'Clarissimus,' I said--and it is the pure truth--'the screws and pincers, the weights and spikes, and the whole delightful apparatus lie all together as safe as possible.' 'Where?' he asked. 'In the deep sea,' I answered; 'I myself, at the order of King Theodoric, threw them in!' For you must know, Mistress Rauthgundis, that when your master was a simple Earl, he once saved me from being tortured. At his request, the horrible practice was fully abolished. I owe him my life and my sound limbs, and I would gladly risk my neck for him. And, if it cannot be otherwise, I will leave this city with you. But we must not delay long, for the Prefect has no need of my pincers and screws if he once takes it into his head to torture a man's marrow out of his bones. I fear him as I fear the devil!" "And I hate him as I hate a lie!" cried Rauthgundis sternly. "So we must be quick," Dromon went on, "before he can carry out his cruel intentions; for he is certainly planning something terrible against the King. I don't know what he can want of the poor prisoner. Now listen, and mark my words. The third night from now, when Paulus keeps the watch, and I take the King his evening drink, I will unlock his chains, throw my mantle over him, and lead him out of the prison and the passage into the court. Thence he will be able to go unnoticed to the gate of the palace, where the sentinel will demand the watch-word. This I shall acquaint him with. When he is once in the street, he must go direct to the Tower of Ætius, where Paulus will let him pass the breach. Outside, in the pine-grove of Diana, at a short distance from the gate, Wachis will wait for him with Wallada. But no one must accompany him; not even you, Rauthgundis. He will escape more surely alone." "Of what consequence am I? He shall be free; not even bound to me! Thou must not even name my name. I have brought him misfortune enough, I will only look at him once again from the window as he goes away!" The Prefect now sunned himself in the feeling of supremacy. He was Governor of Italy. By his order the fortifications were repaired and strengthened, the citizens practised in the use of arms all over the country. The representatives of Byzantium could no longer counterbalance him. Their captains had no luck; the siege of Tarvisium, as well as of Verona and Ticinum, made no progress. And Cethegus heard with pleasure that Hildebad, whose troops had been augmented by deserters to the number of about six hundred, had badly beaten Acacius, who had overtaken and attacked him with a thousand Persian horsemen. But Hildebad's road was still blocked by a strong battalion of Byzantines, who marched against him from Mantua--he had intended to join Totila at Tarvisium--and he was obliged to throw himself into the Castle of Castra Nova, which was still occupied by the Goths under Thorismuth. Here the Byzantines kept him shut up. They could not, however, take the strong fortress, and the Prefect already foresaw that Acacius would soon call upon him to help to destroy the Goths, who could then no longer escape him. It rejoiced him that, since the departure of Belisarius, the forces of Byzantium were proved, in the face of all Italy, to be incapable of putting an end to the resistance of the Goths. And the harshness of the Byzantine financial administration, which had accompanied Belisarius wherever he went--for he could not prevent the practice of draining the resources of the country, which was carried on at the Emperor's command--awakened or heightened the dislike of both town and country to the East Roman rule. Cethegus took good care not--as Belisarius had often done--to oppose the worst acts of Justinian's officials. It gave him great pleasure when the populations of Neapolis and Rome repeatedly broke out into open rebellion against their oppressors. When the Goths were completely annihilated, the power of the Byzantines become contemptible, and their tyranny sufficiently hated, Italy might be called upon to assert her independence, and her saviour, her ruler, would be Cethegus. Notwithstanding, he was troubled by one circumstance--for he was far from undervaluing his enemies. The Gothic war, the last sparks of which were not yet trampled out, might at any time flame up anew, fanned by the national indignation aroused by the treachery which had been practised. It had great weight with the Prefect that the most hated leaders of the Goths, Totila and Teja, had not been taken in the trap laid at Ravenna. For the purpose, therefore, of preventing such a national uprising as he feared, he attempted to drag from the Gothic King a declaration, that he had surrendered himself and the city without hope and without condition, and that he called upon his people to abstain from fruitless resistance. He also wished his prisoner to tell him in what castle the war-treasure of Theodoric was concealed. Even in those days such a treasure, as a means of gaining foreign princes and mercenaries, was of the highest importance. If the Goths lost it, they would lose their best chance of strengthening their exhausted forces by the aid of foreign weapons. And it was the Prefect's greatest wish not to let this treasure--which legend spoke of as immense--fall into the hands of the Byzantines--whose need of money, and the tyranny caused by this need, were such active allies in his plans--but to secure it for himself. His means were also not inexhaustible. But opposed to the calm steadfastness of his prisoner, the Prefect's efforts to extort the secret were vain. CHAPTER XXVI. All necessary measures had been taken for the escape of the King. Rauthgundis and Wachis had made themselves thoroughly acquainted with the pine-grove where the faithful freedman was to wait with the charger of Dietrich of Bern. And it was with the confidence which completed preparations always lend to a stout heart, that Rauthgundis returned to the dwelling of the gaoler. But she turned pale when the latter rushed to meet her with an air of desperation, and dragged her across the threshold. Once in the room, he threw himself on his knees before her, beating his breast with his fists and tearing his grey hair. For some time he could find no words. "Speak," cried Rauthgundis, pressing her hand to her wildly-beating heart. "Is he dead?" "No; but flight is impossible! all is lost! all is lost! An hour ago the Prefect came, and went down to the King. As usual, I opened both doors for him, the passage and the prison door, and then----" "Well?" "Then he took both keys from me, saying he would keep them in future himself." "And thou gavest them up!" said Rauthgundis, grinding her teeth. "How could I refuse? I did all I could. I kept them back and asked: 'Master, do you no longer trust me?' He looked at me with a look that seemed to pierce soul and body. 'From this moment,' he said, 'no longer,' and snatched the keys from my hand." "And thou didst not prevent him?" "Oh, mistress, you are unjust! What could you have done in my place? Nothing!" "I should have strangled him. And now? What shall we do now?" "Do? Nothing! Nothing can be done!" "He _must_ be liberated. Dost thou hear? he _must_!" "But, mistress, I know not how." Rauthgundis caught up an axe which lay near the hearth. "We will open the doors by force." Dromon tried to take the axe from her hand. "It is impossible! They are thickly plated with iron." "Then send for the monster! Tell him that Witichis desires to speak with him, and I will strike him down at the passage door." "And then? You rave! Let me go out. I will call Wachis away from his useless watch." "No! I cannot think that we shall not succeed. Perhaps that devil will return of his own accord. Perhaps--" she continued reflectively--"Ha!" she cried suddenly, "it must be so. He wants to murder him! He intends to steal alone to the defenceless prisoner. But woe to him if he come! I will guard the threshold of that door as if it were a sanctuary, and woe to him if he cross it!" She leaned heavily against the half-door of the room, and swung the ponderous axe. But Rauthgundis was wrong. Not to kill his prisoner had the Prefect taken the keys into his own keeping. He had gone with them in his hand to the south side of the palace, where he gained admittance to Mataswintha's room. The stillness of death and the excitement of fever alternated so rapidly in Mataswintha, that Aspa could never look at her mistress without the tears rushing to her eyes. "Most beautiful daughter of the Germans," began the Prefect, "dissipate the cloud which rests upon your white brow, and listen to me calmly." "How is the King? You leave me without news. You promised to let him go free when all was decided. You promised that he should be taken over the Alps. You have not kept your word." "I promised it on two conditions. You know them well, and you have not yet done your part. Tomorrow the nephew of the Emperor will return from Ariminum, ready to take you to Byzantium, and I desire you to give him hopes that you will become his bride. Your marriage with Witichis was forced and null." "No, never! I have told you so before." "I am sorry for it, for the sake of my prisoner, for he will not see the light of day again until you are on the way to Byzantium with Germanus." "Never!" "Do not irritate me, Mataswintha. The folly of the girl who bought the Ares' head at such a high price, is, I think, outgrown. For that once enamoured being has since sacrificed the Ares of the Goths to his enemies. But if you still honour that dream of girlhood, then save the man you once loved." Mataswintha shook her head. "Until now I have treated you as a free agent, as a Queen. Do not remind me that you, as well as he, are in my power. You will become the wife--soon the widow--of this noble Prince--and Justinian--Byzantium--the whole world, will lie at your feet. Daughter of the Amelungs, is it possible that you do not love power?" "I only love---- Never!" "Then I must force you." She laughed. "_You?_ Force _me_?" "Yes, I force you! (She still loves the man she has ruined!) The second condition is this: that the prisoner fill up this empty space with a name--the name of the castle in which the treasure of the Goths is concealed--and sign the declaration. He refuses to do this with a stubbornness which begins to anger me. Seven times I, the conqueror, have been to him. He would never yet speak to me. And the first time I went I received a look for which alone he deserves to lose his haughty head." "He will never consent!" "That remains to be seen. The continual dropping of water wears away a stone at last. But I can wait no longer. Early to-day I received word that that mad Hildebad, in a furious sally, has beaten Bessas so thoroughly, that the latter can scarcely continue the siege. Everywhere the Goths rebel. I must go and make an end of it, and extinguish these last sparks with the water of deception, which is better than blood. To this end I must have the King's declaration, and the secret of the castle. Therefore I tell you that if, before to-morrow, you do not consent to accompany the Prince to Byzantium, and have not procured for me the signature of the prisoner, witnessed as such by yourself, I will--I swear by the Styx--kill----" Horrified at the awful expression of Cethegus's face, Mataswintha started from her seat and grasped his arm. "You will not kill _him_!" "Yes; or rather, I will first torture him, then blind him, and afterwards kill him!" "No! no!" screamed Mataswintha. "I am resolved. The executioners are ready. And you, you shall tell him this. He will believe that I am in earnest when he sees your despair. You will perhaps be able to soften him; the sight of me only hardens him. Perhaps he thinks that he is still in the hands of Belisarius, that tender-hearted hero. You will tell him in whose power he really is. Here are the documents--here the keys which open his prison. You shall choose the hour yourself." A ray of joyful hope shone from Mataswintha'a eyes. Cethegus failed not to remark it, but, smiling calmly, he left the room. CHAPTER XXVII. Soon after the Prefect had left the Queen it became quite dark. The sky was thickly covered with ragged clouds, which were driven across the moon by the fierce wind, so that brief and uncertain light alternated with a gloom rendered greater by contrast. Dromon had completed his evening round of the cells, and returned to his dwelling tired and sad. He found no light within. He could scarcely make out that Rauthgundis was still leaning against the half«door, the axe in her hand, her eyes fixed upon the door of the passage. "Let me strike a light, mistress, and kindle the chips upon the hearth. Share the evening meal with me. Come, you wait here in vain." "No, no light, no fire! I can see better what happens in the court without, for it is moonlight." "Well, at least come in here and rest yourself. Here is bread and meat." "Shall I eat while he hungers?" "You will be exhausted! Of what are you thinking the whole evening?" "Of what am I thinking?" repeated Rauthgundis, still looking out. "I am thinking how often we have sat in the colonnade before our beautiful house, when the fountain splashed in the garden and the cicalas chirped in the trees. The cool night-breeze fanned his beloved face, and I nestled against his shoulder, and we did not speak one word, and above us was the silent march of the stars. And we listened to the deep and peaceful breathing of our child, who had fallen asleep upon my lap, his little hands, like soft white fetters, clasping the arm of his father. Alas! his arm now wears other fetters! Iron fetters--that pain----" And she pressed her forehead against the iron grating, until she, too, felt pain. "Mistress, why do you torment yourself thus? We cannot help it!" "'But we will help it! I must save him and----Dromon! look there! What is that?" she whispered, and pointed at something in the court. The old man hastened noiselessly to her side. In the court was a tall white figure, which seemed to glide stealthily along the wall. At brief intervals, but sharp and clear, the moonlight fell upon it. "It is a Lemure! The ghost of some one who has been murdered here!" said the old man, trembling. "God and all the saints protect us!" He crossed himself and covered his head with his mantle. "No," said Rauthgundis, "the dead do not return from the other world! Now it has disappeared--all is dark. Ha! the moon breaks through once--more there it is again! It moves towards the passage-door. What is that shining red in the white light? Ha! it is the Queen--that is her red hair? She stops at the door! She opens it! She is going to murder him in his sleep!" "God knows, it is the Queen! But _she_ murder him! How could she?" "_She_ could! But, as I live, she shall not! Follow her! A miracle opens the door to us. But softly, softly!" And she went out on tiptoe into the court, the axe still in her hand, slowly and stealthily, seeking the shadow. Dromon followed her closely. Meanwhile Mataswintha, for she it was, had opened the door and gone forward, down many steps and then through a small passage, feeling the way with her hands. She now reached the door of the prison. She opened it very softly. Through an aperture high up on the wall, where a stone had been taken out, a slanting strip of moonlight fell into the square and narrow dungeon. The light revealed the prisoner. He sat motionless upon a block of stone, his back turned to the door, his head supported on his hands. Mataswintha trembled and leaned against the doorpost. The air felt damp and icy-cold. She shivered. She could not say a word for very horror. Witichis remarked the draught of air from the open door. He lifted his head, but did not look round. "Witichis--King Witichis--" at last stammered Mataswintha; "it is I! Dost thou hear me?" But the prisoner did not move. "I come to save thee--fly! Thou art free!" But the prisoner dropped his head again. "Oh, speak!--oh, only look at me!" She now went quite into the dungeon. Gladly would she have touched his arm, and taken his hand, but she did not yet dare. "Cethegus will kill thee!" she said; "torture thee. He surely will if thou dost not fly!" And now her desperation gave her courage. She drew nearer. "But thou wilt fly! Thou shalt not die! I must save thee! I beseech thee, fly, fly! Oh, thou dost not hear me, and time presses! Sometime thou shalt know everything! but now fly--to life and liberty! I have the keys of the doors! fly, fly!" And now she grasped his arm and tried to drag him from his seat. But she heard the rattling of chains--on his arms on his feet. He was chained to the block of stone. "Oh! what is this?" she cried, and fell upon her knees. "Stone and iron," he said, in a toneless voice. "Leave me, I am doomed. And even if these bonds did not hold me--I would not follow thee. Back to the world? The world is one great lie. Everything is a lie." "Thou art right. It is better to die. Let me die with thee, but forgive me! For I, too, have lied to thee." "It is very possible. It does not surprise me." "But thou wilt forgive me before we die? I have hated thee--I have rejoiced in thy ruin--I have--oh, it is so hard to tell! I have not the strength to confess it! And yet I must have thy forgiveness. Oh, forgive me!--give me thy hand as a sign of thy pardon." But Witichis had sunk back into his former stupor. "Oh, I beseech thee--forgive me, whatever I may have done!" "Go--why should I not forgive thee? thou art like the rest--not better and not worse." "No, I am more wicked than all--and yet better. At least more miserable. It is true that I hated thee, but only because thou hast ever thrust me from thee. Thou wouldst not permit me to share thy life. Forgive me!--O God! I only wish to die with thee!--give me thy hand as a sign of pardon!" Kneeling and beseeching, she stretched out both her hands. The King again lifted his head. The kindness of his nature awoke within him, and overpowered his own dull pain. "Mataswintha," he said, lifting his chained hand, "go. I am sorry for thee. Let me die alone. Whatever thou mayst have done--go--I forgive thee." "O Witichis!" breathed Mataswintha, and would have clasped his hand, but she felt herself suddenly and violently dragged away. "Incendiary! never shall he forgive thee! Come, Witichis!--_my_ Witichis!--follow me; thou art free!" The King sprang up, roused to life by this voice. "Rauthgundis! My wife! Thou hast never lied! Thou art true! at last I have thee again!" And, with a gasp of joy, he stretched out his arms. His wife flew to his bosom, and tear's of delight rushed from their eyes. But Mataswintha, who had risen, tottered to the wall. She slowly stroked her loose red hair out of her eyes and looked at the pair, who were illuminated by the bright moonlight from the chink in the wall. "How he loves her! Yes, he will follow _her_! But he shall not! He shall remain and die with me!" "Delay no longer!" said the voice of Dromon at the door. "Come, come quickly, my life!" cried Rauthgundis. She drew a little key from her bosom and felt at the chains, seeking the small opening of the lock. "What? Shall I really breathe once more the air of freedom?" asked the prisoner, half sinking back into his stupor. "Yes; the free and open air!" cried Rauthgundis, and threw the loosened chains to the ground. "Here, Witichis, here is a weapon! an axe! Take it!" Eagerly the Goth took the axe and weighed it in his hand. "Ha! how the weapon strengthens my arm and soul!" "I knew it, my brave Witichis," said Rauthgundis, kneeling down and unlocking the chain which bound his left foot to the block of stone. "Now step out, for thou art free!" Witichis, raising the axe in his right hand, made a step toward the door. "And _she_ is permitted to loose his chains!" whispered Mataswintha. "Yes, free!" cried Witichis, drawing a deep breath. "Come, Rauthgundis, let us go!" "He goes with _her_!" screamed Mataswintha, and cast herself before the pair. "Witichis--farewell--but tell me once more--that thou hast forgiven me!" "Forgiven thee!" cried Rauthgundis. "Never--never! She has destroyed our kingdom--she has betrayed thee! It was no lightning--it was her hand which kindled the granaries!" "Ha--then be thou accursed!" cried Witichis. "Away, away from this serpent!" and, thrusting Mataswintha violently away, he crossed the threshold, followed by Rauthgundis. "Witichis," screamed Mataswintha, dragging herself up--"stay--stay! Hear one word--Witichis!" "Be silent," said Dromon, grasping her arm. "You will alarm the guard!" But Mataswintha, now no more mistress of herself, ran up the steps into the passage. "Stay, Witichis--stay!" she screamed. "Thou canst not leave me thus!" and fell fainting to the earth. Dromon hurried past her, and followed the fugitives. But the shrill cries of Mataswintha had already reached the ear of one who ever slept lightly. Cethegus, his sword in his hand, and only half dressed, came out of his chamber into the gallery which looked over the square court of the palace. "Guards!" he cried. "To arms!" The soldiers were already astir. Scarcely had Witichis, Rauthgundis, and Dromon left the passage and safely reached the dwelling of the latter, when six Isaurian mercenaries rushed noisily into the passage. Quick as thought Rauthgundis ran out of the house to the heavy iron door, shut it, turned the key, and took it out. "Now they can do no harm," she whispered. The husband and wife presently hastened from Dromon's house to the great gate which led from the court into the street. The single sentinel who had remained behind stopped them and demanded the watchword. "Rome," he cried, "and----" "Revenge!" cried Witichis, and struck him down with the axe. The sentinel screamed and fell, hurling his spear at the fugitives. It pierced the last of the three--Dromon. As Witichis and Rauthgundis rushed down the marble stairs of the palace into the street, they heard the imprisoned soldiers thundering at the strong iron door, and a loud voice calling: "Syphax, my horse!" Then they disappeared into the darkness. A few minutes later the courtyard was bright with the lights of many torches, and several horsemen galloped off to the different gates of the city. "Six thousand solidi to whoever takes him alive; three thousand if he be brought in dead!" cried Cethegus, swinging himself into the saddle. "Up, Sons of the Wind, Ellak and Mondzach, Huns and Massagetæ! Ride as you have never ridden before!" "But whither?" asked Syphax, as he galloped out of the gate at his master's aide. "That is difficult to say. But all the gates are closed and guarded. They can only escape by a breach." "There are two large breaches." "Look at Jupiter, which is just rising from behind the clouds in the east. It seems to sign to me. In that direction----" "Lies the breach near the Tower of Ætius." "Good! Then thither--I follow my star!" Meantime the fugitives had happily reached the breach, where Paulus, the son of Dromon, let them pass. In the pine-grove of Diana they found their faithful Wachis and two horses. The husband and wife mounted Wallada. The freedman took the other horse and rode off at a gallop towards the river, which at this point was very broad. Witichis held Rauthgundis before him. "My wife--losing thee I had lost all: life and courage. But now I will once more try for the kingdom. Oh, how could I ever let thee go, thou soul of my soul!" "Thine arm is wounded with the chaffing of the chain. Lay it across my neck, my Witichis." "Forward, Wallada--quick! It is for life or death!" They now issued from the grove into the open country. They reached the shore of the river. Wachis was trying to urge his rearing steed into the dark flood. The animal shyed and resisted. The freedman sprang off. "It is very deep, very rapid," he said. "For three days the river has been unusually full. The ford is useless. The horses will have to swim, and the current will drag us far to the left. There are rocks in the stream, and the moonlight is so inconstant and deceptive." He looked doubtfully and searchingly up and down the river. "Hark! what was that?" asked Rauthgundis. "It was not the wind in the trees." "It is horses!" cried Witichis. "They approach rapidly. I hear the clatter of arms. There--torches! Now into the river for life or death--but softly!" He urged his horse into the water. "There is no footing. The horses must swim. Hold fast by the mane, Rauthgundis. Forward, Wallada!" Snorting and trembling, the noble animal looked at the black water. His mane was blown wildly about his head--he held his fore-feet stretched out, his haunches drawn in. "Forward, Wallada!" said Witichis, and called softly into the faithful animal's ear, "Theodoric!" At this the charger sprang willingly into the water. The pursuing horsemen had already galloped out of the wood, Cethegus foremost; at his side rode Syphax with a torch. "Here the track disappears in the sand, master." "They are in the river. Forward, Huns!" But the horsemen drew rein and stood stock-still. "Well, Ellak, why do you linger? At once into the flood!" "Sir, we cannot. Before we ride into running water at night-time, we must ask forgiveness of Phug, the water-spirit. We must first pray to him." "Pray when you are across as long as you like; but now----" Just then a strong gust of wind blew from the river and extinguished all the torches. The river rushed and roared. "You see, sir, that Phug is angry." "Be silent. Did you see nothing? There to the left." The moon just then glanced between the driving clouds. It shone upon the light-coloured garments of Rauthgundis. She had lost her brown mantle. "Aim quickly; there!" "We cannot; we must first finish our worship!" The clouds passed across the moon, and it was again quite dark. With a curse, Cethegus snatched bow and quiver from the shoulder of the chief of the Huns. "Come on!" cried Wachis in a low voice, when he had almost reached the opposite shore; "come quickly, before the moon issues from that narrow strip of cloud!" "Halt, Wallada!" cried Witichis, as he dismounted in order to lighten the burden, and held fast by the horse's mane. "Here is a rock. Take care, Rauthgundis." Horse, man, and woman were checked for a moment while balancing upon the top of the rock, past which the water rushed and gurgled in a deep whirl. Suddenly the moon shone out clear and bright. It illuminated the surface of the stream and the group on the rock. "It is they!" cried Cethegus, who held his bow and arrow ready. He took a rapid aim, and pulled the string. Whistling, the long black-feathered arrow flew from the string. "Rauthgundis!" cried Witichis in terror; for his wife started convulsively and sank forward upon the horse's neck. But she did not utter a groan. "Rauthgundis, thou art hit?" "I believe so. Leave me here and save thyself." "Never! Let me support thee." "For God's sake, sir, stoop! dive! They take aim again!" The Huns had finished praying. They rode a short way into the water, fixing their arrows and taking aim. "Leave me, Witichis. Fly! I will die here." "No; I will never leave thee again!" He lifted her out of the saddle, and tried to hide her on the rock. The group stood in the full light of the moon. "Yield, Witichis!" cried Cethegus, spurring his horse up to its haunches in the water. "A curse upon thee, thou traitor!" was the reply of Witichis. Twelve arrows whizzed at once. The charger of Theodoric leaped wildly forward, and sank for ever into the flood. But Witichis also was mortally wounded. "With thee!" sighed Rauthgundis. She held him closely with both arms. "With thee!" And, locked in a fast embrace, husband and wife sank into the river. In bitter grief, Wachis, on the farther shore, called their names. In vain. Three times he called, and then galloped away into the night. "Get the bodies out," ordered Cethegus grimly, turning his horse to the bank. And the Huns rode and swam to the rock, and sought for the bodies. But they sought in vain. The rapid current had carried man and wife, united now for ever, into the free and open sea. The same day Prince Germanus had returned from Ariminum to the harbour of Ravenna, ready to take Mataswintha to Byzantium. The latter was only roused from the faint into which she had fallen when left by Witichis and Rauthgundis, by the noise of the hammers with which the work-people broke open the passage to liberate the soldiers. The Princess was found crouching upon the steps of the prison. She was carried up to her chamber in a high fever. She lay for hours upon her purple cushions without moving or speaking, her eyes fixed in a wild stare. Towards noon Cethegus asked for admission. His look was dark and threatening; his expression cold as ice. He went up to Mataswintha's couch. "He is dead!" she quietly said. "He would not have it otherwise. He--and you. It is useless to reproach you. But you see what ensues when you oppose me. The report of his death will inevitably rouse the barbarians to new fury. You have created a difficult task for me; for you only are the cause of his flight and death. The least that you can do to atone for this is to fulfil my second wish. Prince Germanus has landed. He comes to fetch you. You will follow him." "Where is the corpse?" "It has not been found. The current has carried it away; his body and--the woman's." Mataswintha's lips twitched. "Even in death! She died with him?" "Think no more of the dead. In two hours I will return with the Prince. Will you then be prepared to welcome him?" "I shall be ready." "'Tis well. We will be punctual." "I also. Aspa, call all my slaves; they shall adorn me richly to meet this Prince. Diadem, purple, and silk." "She has lost her senses," Cethegus said to himself as he left the room. "But women are tough; she will recover them. These women can live, even when their hearts are broken." He went to console the impatient Prince. Before the expiration of the time appointed, a slave came to invite the two men to come to the Queen. Germanus crossed the threshold of her room with a rapid step. But he stood still astonished. He had never seen the Gothic Princess looking so lovely, so queenly. She had placed a high golden diadem upon her shining hair, which fell over her shoulders in two thick tresses. Her under-dress of heavy white silk, embroidered with golden flowers, was only visible below the knee, for the upper part of her body was covered by the royal purple. Her face was white and cold as marble: her eyes blazed with a strange and supernatural light. "Prince Germanus," she said, as he entered, "you once spoke to me of love; but do you know of what you spoke? To love is to die." Germanus looked inquiringly at the Prefect, who now came forward. He was about to speak, but Mataswintha, in a clear loud voice, recommenced: "Prince Germanus, you are famed as the most highly-cultivated man of a learned court, where it is a favourite pastime to practise the solving of finely-pointed riddles. I also will put to you a riddle; see to it that you solve it. Let the clever Prefect, who so well understands human nature, help you. What is this?--A wife, and yet a maid; a widow, and yet no wife? You cannot guess? You are right; death alone resolves all riddles!" With a sudden movement, she cast off her purple robe. There was a flash of steel! She had stabbed herself to the heart. With a shriek, Germanus and Aspa (who had stood behind) sprang forward. Cethegus silently caught the falling figure. She died as soon as he drew the sword from her breast. He knew the sword. He himself had sent it to her. It was the sword of King Witichis. BOOK V. TOTILA. "Well for us that this sunny youth still lives!"--_Margrave Ruediger of Bechelaren_, Act i., Scene i. PART I. CHAPTER I. A few days after the death of Mataswintha and the departure of Prince Germanus, who was deeply shocked by the sad event, a message came from Castra Nova, which rendered necessary the march of Byzantine troops from Ravenna. Hildebad had been informed, by fugitive Goths, who had made their way in disguise through the lines of the besiegers, of the treacherous imprisonment of the King. On hearing the news, he sent word to Cethegus and Belisarius, through some prisoners whom he released, that he challenged them, either together or singly, to mortal combat, "if they had a drop of courage in their veins, or a trace of honour in their souls." "He thinks that Belisarius is still in the country, and does not seem to fear him greatly," said Bessas. "This might be a means," said Cethegus cunningly, of ruining the turbulent fellow. "But, certainly, it needs great courage--such courage as Belisarius possesses." "You know that I do not yield to him a jot in that," answered Bessas. "Good," said Cethegus. "Then follow me to my house. I will show you how to destroy this giant. You shall succeed where Belisarius failed." But he said to himself, "Bessas is indeed a tolerably bad commander; but Demetrius is still worse, and therefore easier to lead. And I owe Bessas a grudge for that affair of the Tiburtinian Gate at Rome." The Prefect had not without reason feared that the almost extinguished resistance of the Goths would be renewed on hearing of the treason practised on their King. No exact report had yet reached old Hildebrand at Verona, Totila at Tarvisium, or Teja at Ticinum. They had only heard that Ravenna had fallen, and that the King was imprisoned. Vague rumours of treachery accompanied this report, and the friends of the King, in their pain and anger, were persuaded that the fall of the strong fortress and of the brave King had not been effected by honest means. Instead of discouraging them, this misfortune only increased the strength of their resistance. They weakened their besiegers by repeated and successful sallies. And the enemy felt almost constrained to raise the siege, for already signs of an important change of circumstance crowded upon them from all sides. This change was, in fact, a rapidly progressing reversion of feeling in the Italian population, at least of the middle classes: the merchants and artisans of the towns; the peasants and farmers of the country. The Italians had everywhere greeted the Byzantines as liberators. But after a short period their exultation died away. Whole troops of officials followed Belisarius from Byzantium, sent by Justinian to reap without delay the fruits of the war, and to fill the ever-empty treasury of the East with the riches of Italy. In the midst of all the suffering caused by the war, these zealous officials began their work. As soon as Belisarius had occupied a town, his treasurer summoned all free citizens to the Curia or to the Forum; ordered them to divide themselves into six classes according to their wealth, and then called upon each class to value the property of the class above it. According to this valuation, the imperial officials then laid the highest possible tax upon each class. And, as these officials were almost necessitated, because of the retention and curtailment of their never punctually paid salaries, to think of filling their own pockets as well as the Emperor's treasury, the oppression they put in practice became intolerable. They were not content with the high rates which the Emperor required to be paid in advance for three years; the special tax laid upon every liberated town of Italy as a "gratitude tax"--besides the large contributions and requisitions which Belisarius and his generals were obliged to demand for the use of the army--for neither gold nor provisions came from Byzantium--but every official sought to extort special payments, by special means, out of the richer citizens. They everywhere ordered a revision of the tax-lists, discovered arrears owing since the times of the Gothic Kings, even from the days of Odoacer, and left the citizens the option of paying immense sums for indemnity or of carrying on a ruinous lawsuit with Justinian's fiscus, who scarcely ever lost one. But if the tax-lists were incomplete or destroyed--which happened often enough in those times of war--the accountants arbitrarily reconstructed them. In short, all the arts of finance which had ruined the provinces of the Eastern Empire were practised in Italy, after the landing of Belisarius, as far as imperial arms could reach. Without consideration for the misery of war-time, the tax executors unyoked the oxen of the peasant from the plough, took his tools from the workshop of the artisan, and his wares from the house of the merchant. In many towns the people rebelled against their oppressors and drove them away; but they only returned in larger numbers with severer measures. The Mauretanian horsemen of Justinian, with African bloodhounds, hunted the desperate peasants from their hiding-places in the woods, whither they had fled to escape the tax-gatherer. And Cethegus, who alone was in a position to check such deeds, looked on with calculating coolness. He desired that, before the end of the war, all Italy should have become acquainted with the tyranny of Byzantium, for then it would be a lighter task for him to persuade the people to rise and, when they had got rid of the Goths, to throw off the burden of the Byzantines. He listened to the complaints of the deputations from various towns, who appealed to him for assistance, with a shrug and the laconic answer: "That is only Byzantine government--you must get used to it." "No," had answered the deputation from Rome, "one does not get accustomed to what is unbearable. The Emperor may live to see that of which he has never even dreamed!" To Cethegus this could only mean the independence of Italy; he knew of nothing else. But he was mistaken. Although he thought meanly enough of his countrymen and the times in which he lived, he yet believed that he could elevate them by example. But the thought so natural to his spirit; as necessary to him as the air he breathed--the freedom and independence of Italy--was far too grand for the comprehension of that generation. They could only vacillate between two masters. And when the yoke of Byzantium proved unbearable they began to recall to their memory the milder rule of the Goths; a possibility which had never entered the Prefect's head. And yet such was the case. Before Tarvisium, Ticinum, and Verona, there now happened on a small scale, that which was preparing on a large one in such cities as Neapolis and Rome. The Italian country-people revolted against the Byzantine officials and soldiers, and the inhabitants of the above-named three cities supported the Goths in every possible manner. So, when Totila, backed by the armed peasants of the plains, had destroyed a great part of their works, the besiegers of Tarvisium were obliged to cease their attacks, and limit themselves to the defence of their camp, thus enabling Totila to draw supplies and soldiers from the neighbouring country. With a more cheerful spirit than usual he one evening made his round of the walls of Tarvisium. Rosy clouds floated across the sky, and the sun, as it sank behind the Venetian hills, gilded all the plain before him. With emotion he watched the peasants from the neighbourhood streaming through the open gates of the city, bringing bread, meat, and wine to his half-starved Goths; who, on their part, hurried out into the open country, and Germans and Italians, embracing, celebrated the victory which they had together gained over their hated enemies. "Is it then impossible," said Totila to himself, "to preserve and propagate this amity through the whole country? Is it a necessity that these two nations should be eternally divided? How their friendship embellishes each! Have we not also failed, in that we ever treated the Italians as the vanquished? We meet them with suspicion, instead of with generous confidence. We demand their obedience, and neglect to win their affection. And it would have been well worth the winning! Had it been won--never would Byzantium have gained a footing here! The release from my vow--Valeria--would not have been so unattainable. Would that it were permitted me to strive for this goal in _my_ way!" His reflections and dreams were interrupted by a messenger from the outposts, announcing that the enemy had suddenly forsaken their camp, and were in fall retreat to the south, towards Ravenna. On the road to the west clouds of dust were seen: a large body of horsemen was approaching--probably Goths. Totila received the news with joy, but also with doubt. He took all necessary measures against a stratagem. But during the night his doubts were resolved. He was awakened by the news of a Gothic victory, and the arrival of the victor. He hurried out and found Hildebrand, Teja, Thorismuth, and Wachis. With the cry of "Victory! victory!" his friends greeted him, and Teja and Hildebrand announced that at Ticina, and Verona also, the country-people had rebelled against the Byzantines, and had aided the Goths in falling upon the besiegers, whom, after destroying their defences, they had forced to retreat. But in spite of this joyful news, there lay in Teja's eyes and voice a deeper melancholy than usual. "What of sorrow hast thou to communicate, beside this joy?" asked Totila. "The shameful ruin of the best man in the world!" said Teja, and signed to Wachis, who now related the sufferings and death of the King and his wife. "I escaped the arrows of the Huns by hiding amongst the rushes. Thus I still live. But only for one thing; that is, to revenge my master upon his betrayer and murderer--Cethegus the Prefect." "No; the Prefect is mine!" said Teja. "Thou, Totila, hast the first right to his life," said Hildebrand, "for thou hast a brother to revenge." "My brother Hildebad!" cried Totila. "What of him?" "He has been shamefully murdered by the Prefect," said Thorismuth, "before my very eyes, and I could not prevent it." "My strong Hildebad dead!" exclaimed Totila. "Speak!" "The hero lay with us in the Castle of Castra Nova, near Mantua," related Thorismuth. "The report of the King's treacherous death had reached us. Hildebad challenged Belisarius and Cethegus to mortal combat. Presently a herald arrived, who said that Belisarius had accepted the challenge, and expected thy brother on the plain between our walls and their camp. Thy brother set forth rejoicing; we horsemen followed. And verily, there rode out of a tent, in his golden armour, with closed helm and white plume, with his round shield--well known to us all--the hero, Belisarius. Only twelve horsemen followed him; foremost of all, Cethegus the Prefect. The other Byzantines halted just outside the camp. Hildebad ordered me to follow him with an equal number of horsemen. The two combatants greeted each other with their spears; the trumpets sounded, and Hildebad rushed at his enemy. The next moment the latter lay upon the ground, pierced through and through. Thy brother, unhurt, dismounted, crying: 'That was no thrust from Belisarius!' and opened the visor of the dying man. 'Bessas!' cried Hildebad, and looked, furious at the deception, towards his enemies. Then the Prefect gave a sign. The twelve Moorish horsemen hurled their spears, and, severely hit, thy brother fell." Totila covered his face. Teja went sympathisingly up to him. "Listen to the end," said Thorismuth. "When we saw this murder, we were filled with fury. We threw ourselves upon the enemy, who, trusting that we should be discouraged, pressed forward from the camp. After a hot fight, we compelled them to fly. Only the speed of his devilish horse saved the Prefect, who was wounded in the shoulder by my spear. Thy brother lived to see our victory. He caused the chest which he had brought from Ravenna to be carried down to the Castle; opened it, and said to me: 'Crown, shield, and sword of Theodoric. Take them to my brother.' And with his last breath he cried: 'He must revenge me and renew our kingdom. Tell him--that I loved him very dearly!' Then he sank back upon his shield, and his faithful soul departed." "My brother! Oh, my beloved brother!" cried Totila, leaning against a pillar. Tears flowed from his eyes. There was a moment of reverent silence. Then: "Remember thine oath!" cried Hildebrand. "He was doubly thy brother! Thou wilt revenge him!" "Yes," said Totila, and involuntarily he drew the sword--which Teja handed to him--from its sheath. "I will revenge him!" It was the sword of Theodoric. "And renew the kingdom," said old Hildebrand solemnly, and, taking the crown, he set it upon Totila's head. "Hail to thee, King of the Goths!" Totila started. He raised his left hand to the golden coronet. "What do ye?" he exclaimed. "That which is right. The dying hero's words were prophecy! Thou wilt surely renew the kingdom. Three victories call upon thee to take up the struggle. Remember thine oath. We are not yet defenceless. Shall we lay down our weapons? Shall we submit to treachery and tricks?" "No," cried Totila, "that we will not. And it is well done to choose a king, as a sign of renewed hope. But here stands Earl Teja, worthier than I, of proved experience. Choose Teja!" "No," said Teja, shaking his head, "it is thy turn first! Thy dying brother has sent _thee_ this sword and crown. Wear them happily! If the kingdom can be saved, it is thou who canst save it; if not, an avenger must be left." "But now," interrupted Hildebrand, "now we must hasten to sow the seeds of confidence in all hearts. This is thine office, Totila! See, the young day breaks in glory. The first rays of the sun fall into the hall and kiss, thy brow! It is a sign from the gods! Hail, King Totila--thou that shalt renew the Gothic kingdom!" The youth pressed the glittering crown firmly upon his golden locks, and raised Theodoric's sword towards the morning sun. "Yes!" he cried, "if human strength can do it, I will raise anew the kingdom of the Goths." CHAPTER II. And King Totila kept his word. Once again he raised the Goths, whose sole hold on Italy was embodied in a few thousand men and three cities, to a great power, greater even than in the days of Theodoric. He drove the Byzantines out of all the towns of Italy, with one fatal exception. He won back the islands of Sardinia, Corsica, and Sicilia. And still more: he victoriously crossed the old limits of the kingdom, and, as the Emperor obstinately refused recognition of the Gothic rule and possession, sent his royal fleet to carry terror and devastation into the provinces of the Eastern Empire. And Italy, in spite of the continuance of the war--which was never quite extinguished--bloomed under his government as in the time of Theodoric. It is remarkable that the legends both of the Goths and Italians celebrate this fortunate King, now as the grandchild of Numa Pompilius, Titus, or Theodoric, now as the spirit of the latter, returned to earth in youthful form, to restore and bless his well-beloved kingdom. As the morning sun, issuing from the clouds of night, irresistibly spreads light and blessing abroad, so Totila's arms brought happiness to Italy. The dark shadows retreated step by step at his approach. Victory flew before him, and the gates of the cities and the hearts of men opened to him almost without a struggle. The manly qualities--the genius of a general and a ruler--which had slumbered in this fair youth, which were only guessed at by Theodoric and Teja, and known to their full extent to no one, were now gloriously displayed. The youthful freshness of his nature, far from being destroyed by the hard trials of the last years, by the sufferings which he had endured in Neapolis and before Rome, by the long absence from his beloved Valeria, from whom he was parted farther and farther by every fresh victory of the Byzantines, had only deepened into more earnest manliness. The bright sympathy of his manner remained, and cast the charm of amiability and heartfelt kindness over all his actions. Sustained by his own ideality, he tamed trustingly to the ideal in his fellow-men; and almost all, except those governed by some diabolical power, found his confident appeal to what was noble and good irresistible. As light illumines whatever it shines upon, so the noble-heartedness of this glorious King seemed to communicate itself to his courts to his associates, and even to his adversaries. "He is irresistible as Apollo!" said the Italians. More closely regarded, we find that the secret of his great and rapid success lay in the genial art with which--following the inmost impulse of his nature--he contrived to transmute the bitterness of the Italians against Byzantine oppression into sympathy with the benevolence of the Goths. We have seen how this feeling of bitterness had taken root amongst the peasants, the farmers, the rich merchants, the artisans, and the middle and lower ranks of the citizens; in fact, among the greater part of the population. And later, when the Goths marched to the field of battle with the jubilating cry of "Totila!" the personality of the young King completely estranged the Italians from their Byzantine oppressors, who seemed to be totally forsaken by the fortune of war. It is true that a minority remained uninfluenced: the Orthodox Church, which knew of no peace with heretics; hard-headed Republicans; and the kernel of the Catacomb conspiracy--the proud Roman aristocrats and the friends of the Prefect. But this small minority compared to the mass of the population, was of little moment. The King's first act was to publish a manifesto to the Goths and Italians. It was proved to the first that the fall of King Witichis and Ravenna had been the work of superior falsehood, and not of superior strength; and the duty of revenge, begun already by three victories, was impressed upon them. And the Italians, having now experienced what kind of exchange they had made in revolting to Byzantium, were invited to return to their old friends. In order to favour this return, the King promised not only a general amnesty, but equal rights with the Goths; the abolition of all former Gothic privileges; the right of forming a native army; and--what was especially effective by contrast--the abolition of all taxes upon Italian soil or property until the end of the war. Further, as the aristocracy favoured the Byzantines--the farmers, on the contrary, the Goths--it was a measure of the highest prudence which provided that every Roman noble who did not, within three months, subject himself to the Goths, should lose his landed property in favour of his former tenants. And, lastly, the King placed a high premium, to be paid out of the royal purse, on all intermarriages between Goths and Italians, promising the settlement of the pair upon the confiscated property of Roman senators. "Italia," concluded the manifesto, "bleeding from the wounds inflicted by the tyranny of Byzantium, shall recover and bloom again under my protection. Help us, sons of Italia, to drive from this sacred ground our common enemies, the Huns and Scythians of Justinianus. Then, in the new-born kingdom of the Italians and Goths, a new people shall arise--begotten of Italian beauty and cultivation, of Gothic strength and truth--whose nobility and splendour shall be such as the world has. never yet beheld!" When Cethegus the Prefect, awaking at morn on the field-bed to which his wound had confined him, heard the news of Totila's accession, he sprang from his couch with a curse. "Sir," said the Grecian physician, "you must take care of yourself and----" "Did you not hear? Totila wears the Gothic crown! It is no time now to be prudent.--My helm, Syphax." And he snatched the manifesto from the hand of Lucius Licinius, who had brought the news, and read eagerly. "Is it not ridiculous--madness?" asked Lucius. "Madness it is if the Romans be yet Romans! But are they so? If they are not--then we--and not the barbarian prince--work madness. The thing must never be put to a trial, but be at once nipped in the bud. The blow directed against the aristocracy is a masterpiece. It must not have time to take effect. Where is Demetrius?" "He marched against Totila last evening. You were asleep. The physician forbade us to awaken you, and Demetrius also." "Totila king, and you let me sleep! Do you not know that this flaxen-head is the very genius of the Goths? Demetrius wishes to win his laurels alone. How strong is he?" "More than twice as strong as the Goths; twelve thousand to five thousand." "Demetrius is lost. Up--to horse! Arm all who can carry a lance. Leave only the wounded to guard the walls. This firebrand Totila must be trampled out, or an ocean of blood cannot extinguish him. My weapons--to horse!" "I have never seen the Prefect look so," said Lucius Licinius to the physician. "It must be fever? He grew pale." "He is without fever." "Then I do not comprehend it, for it cannot be _fear_. Syphax, let us follow him." Cethegus urged on his troop indefatigably. So indefatigably, that only a small suite of horsemen could keep up with his impatience and the swift hoofs of his war-horse. At long intervals followed Marcus Licinius, Massurius with Cethegus's mercenaries, and Balbus with the hurriedly-armed citizens of Ravenna. For Cethegus had indeed left in the fortress only old men, women and children, and the wounded soldiers. At last the Prefect succeeded in communicating with the rear-guard of the Byzantines. Totila was marching from Tarvisium southwards against Ravenna. He was joined by numerous bands of armed Italians from the provinces of Liguria, Venetia, and Æmilia, who had been roused by his manifesto into new hope and new resolve. They desired to fight with him his first battle against the Byzantines. "No," Totila had answered their general; "you shall decide upon what you will do _after_ the battle. We Goths will fight alone. If we win, then you may join us. If we lose, then the revenge of the Byzantines will not affect you. Await the result." The report of such magnanimous sentiments attracted many more to the Gothic flag. Besides this, Totila's army was reinforced from hour to hour, during the march, by the arrival of Gothic warriors, who, singly, or in small bands, had come out of prison or left their hiding-places when they heard of the treachery practised on King Witichis, the accession of a new King, and the renewal of the war. The haste with which Totila pressed forward, in order to avail himself of the enthusiasm of his troops before it had time to cool, and the zeal with which Demetrius flew to meet him, soon brought the two armies in sight of each other. It was at the bridge across the Padus, named Pons Padi. The Byzantines stood in the plain; they had the river, which they had crossed with half their foot, at their backs. The Goths appeared upon the gently-sloping hills towards the north-west. The rays of the setting sun dazzled the eyes of the Byzantines. Totila, from the hill, observed the position of the enemy. "The victory is mine!" he cried to his troops, and, drawing his sword, he swooped upon his enemies like a falcon on his prey. Cethegus and his followers had reached the last deserted camp of the Byzantines shortly after sunset. They were met by the first fugitives. "Turn, Prefect," cried the foremost horseman, who recognised him, "turn and save yourself! Totila is upon us! He cleaved the helm and head of Artabazes, the best captain of the Armenians, with his own hand!" And the man continued his flight. "A god led the barbarians!" cried a second. "All is lost--the commander-in-chief is taken!" "This King Totila is irresistible!" cried a third, trying to pass the Prefect, who blocked his way. "Tell that in hell!" cried Cethegus, and struck him to the earth. "Forward!" But he had scarcely given the command when he recalled it. For already whole battalions of vanquished Byzantines came flying through the wood towards him. He saw that it would be impossible to stem the flight of these masses with his small troop. For some time he watched the movement irresolutely. The Gothic pursuers were already visible in the distance, when Vitalius, one of Demetrius's captains, came wounded up to Cethegus. "Oh, friend," he cried, "there is no stopping them! They will now go on till they reach Ravenna." "I verily believe it," said Cethegus. "They will more likely carry my men away with them than stand and fight." "And yet only the half of the victors, under Teja and Hildebrand, follow us. The King turned back already on the field of battle. I saw him withdraw his troops. He wheeled to the south-west." "_Whither?_" cried Cethegus, becoming attentive. "Tell me again. In _what_ direction?" "He marched towards the south-west." "He is going to Rome!" exclaimed the Prefect, and pulled his horse round so suddenly that it reared. "Follow me!--to the coast!" "And the routed army? without leaders!" cried Lucius Licinius. "See how they fly!" "Let them fly! Ravenna is strong. It will hold out. Do you not hear? The Goth is going to _Rome_! We must get there before him. Follow me to the coast--the way by sea is open. To Rome!" CHAPTER III. Lovely--famed far and wide for its beauty--is the valley in which the Passara flows from the north into the rapid Athesis, which hurries from the west to the south-east. Like a bending figure, which leans longingly towards the beautiful Southland, the lofty Mendola rises at a distance from the right bank of the river. Here, above the junction of the two streams, once lay the Roman settlement of Mansio Majæ. A little farther up the river, on a dominating rock, stood the Castle of Teriolis. Now--from a mountain-"muhr" or "mar" (landslip)--the town is called Meran. The Castle has given its name to the Tyrol. "Mansio Majæ" is heard even now in the name of the place "Mais," rich in pleasant villas. But at the time of which we speak an East Gothic garrison lay in the Castle of Teriolis, as was the case in all the old Rhætian rock-nests on the Athesis, the Isarcus, and the [OE]nus, in order to keep down the only half-subjected Suevi, Alamanni, and Markomanni, or, as they were already named, the Bajuvars, who dwelt in Rhætia, on the Licus, and on the lower course of the [OE]nus. But, besides the garrisons of the castles, East-Gothic families had settled in larger numbers in the mild and fruitful valley and on the willow-covered slopes of the mountains. Even now a singular, noble, and grave beauty distinguishes the peasants of the valleys of Meran, Ultner, and Sarn. These reticent people are much more refined, pensive, and aristocratic than the Bajuvar type on the Inn, the Lech, and the Isar. Their dialect and legends support the supposition that here some few remains of the Goths continued to flourish; for the legends of the Amelungs, Dietrich of Bern, and the Rose-garden, still live in the names of the places and the traditions of the people. Upon one of the highest mountains on the left shore of the Athesis, a Goth named Iffa had before-times settled; his descendants continued the settlement. The mountain is named the "Iffinger" to this day. Upon the southern slope, half-way up, the simple settlement was fixed. The Gothic emigrants had found it already cultivated. The Rhætian alpine-house, which Druses had met with when he conquered the Rasenian mountain-people, had suffered no change in its characteristic and commodious form through the Roman conquerors, who built their villas in the valley, and their watch-towers on dominating rocks. All the Romanised inhabitants of the Eltsch valley had, after the East-Gothic invasion, remained in quiet possession of their property. For not here, but farther east, from the Save and over the Isonzo, had the Goths pressed forward into the peninsula; and only when Ravenna and Odoacer had fallen, did Theodoric spread his hosts in a peaceful and regular manner over North Italy and the Etschland. Thus Iffa and his people had peacefully shared the soil with the Roman settlers whom they found upon the mountain, which at that time still possessed its Rasenian name. A third of the arable land, the meadows and woods; a third part of the house, slaves, and animals, was, here as everywhere, claimed by the Gothic settler from the Roman farmer. In the course of years, however, the Roman _hospes_ had found this close and involuntary vicinity to the barbarians inconvenient. He therefore left the rest of his property on the mountains to the Goths, in exchange for thirty yoke of the splendid oxen which the Germans had brought with them from Pannonia--and which they so well understood how to breed--and went southwards, where the Romans dwelt in greater numbers. And so the "Iffinger" had become completely Germanic, for the present master had suddenly sold the few Roman slaves which he possessed, and had replaced them by men and maids of Germanic race: Gepidians taken in war. This master was again named "Iffa," like his ancestor. He lived alone, a silver-haired man. A brother, and his wife and daughter-in-law, had, many years ago, been buried under a landslip. A son, a younger brother, and a son of the latter, had obeyed the call of King Witichis to arms, and had never returned from the siege of Rome. So no one was left to the old man but his two grandchildren, the boy and girl of the son who had fallen. The sun had set gloriously behind the mountains which bordered the incomparable Etsch valley in the blue distance to the south and west. A warm golden lustre lay upon the tender porphyry colouring of the "Iffinger," making it glow like red wine. Up the mountain slope, upon the top of which stood a dwelling-house with a row of stalls a little apart, climbed slowly, step by step, resting ever and again, and holding her hands over her eyes as she looked at the sunset, a child--or was it already a maiden?--who was driving a flock of lambs before her. She now and then gave her _protégées_ time to crop with dainty tooth the aromatic Alpine herbs which grew in their path, and beat time with the hazel stick which she carried to an ancient and simple melody, the words of which she was softly singing: "Little lambkins, Follow freely; By your shepherd's Hand led heedful; Like the heaven's Lovely lambkins, Like the quiet Steady stars, that Shining, sparkling, Obey ever Their bright shepherd, Mustered by the Mild moon ever, Without trouble, Without pause." She ceased, and bent forward to look over into a deep ravine on her left hand, which had been hollowed out in the steep slope by a rapid mountain brook. Now, being summer, the water was very shallow. On the opposite side the hill again rose steeply upward. "Where can he be?" the girl said; "usually his goats are already descending the hill when the sun has turned to gold. My flowers will fade soon!" She seated herself upon a stone near the path, let the lambs graze, laid the hazel stick beside her, and allowed the apron of sheepskin, which, till now, she had held up carefully, to fall. A shower of the loveliest Alpine flowers fell to the ground. She began to wind a wreath. "The blue speik will suit his brown hair the best," she said as she worked busily. "I get much more tired when I drive the flock alone than when he is with me. And yet then we climb much higher. I wonder how it is! How my naked feet burn! I might go down to the brook and cool them. And then I should see him sooner when he comes along the height. The sun does not scorch any more." She took off the large broad pumpkin leaf which she wore instead of a hat; and now was seen the shining colour of her pale golden hair--so fair it was!--which, stroked back from the temples, was tied together at the back of the head with a red ribbon. Like a flood of sunbeams it rippled over her neck, which was only covered by a white woollen kirtle, that, confined at the waist with a leather girdle, reached a little above the knees. She measured the size of her wreath on her own head. "Certainly," she said, "his head is larger. I will add these Alpine roses." Then she tied the two ends of the wreath together with delicate grasses, sprang up, shook the remaining flowers from her lap, took the wreath in her left hand, and turned to descend the steep declivity, at the foot of which the brook gurgled amid the stones. "No! stop up here and wait! Thou, too, darling White Elf! I will come back directly." And she drove back the lambs, which had tried to follow, and which now, bleating, looked wistfully after their mistress. With great agility the practised girl sprang down the ravine; now holding fast to the tough shrubs, spurge-olives, and yellow willow; now boldly leaping from rock to rock. The loose stones broke and the fragments came rattling after her. As she merrily jumped after the rolling pebbles, she suddenly heard a sharp and threatening hiss from below. Before she could turn, a great copper-brown snake, which had no doubt been disturbed from sunning itself on a stone, coiled itself up, ready to dart at her naked feet. The child was alarmed; her knees trembled, and screaming loudly, she called: "Adalgoth, help! help!" A clear voice immediately replied to this cry of fear with the words, "Alaric! Alaric!" which sounded like a battle-cry. The bushes on the right creaked and cracked; stones rolled down the slope, and, swift as an arrow, a slender boy in a rough wolf-skin flew between the hissing snake and the affrighted maiden. He hurled his strong Alpine stick like a spear, and with so true an aim that the small head of the snake was transfixed to the ground. Its long body twined convulsively round the deadly shaft. "Gotho, thou art not wounded?" "No, thanks to thee, thou hero!" "Then let me say the snake-charm before the viper ceases to struggle; it will ban all its fellows for three leagues around." And lifting the three first fingers of his right hand, the boy repeated the ancient saying: "Woe! thou wolf-worm, Wriggle wildly! Bite the bushes, Poisonous panting: Men and maidens, Hurt thou shalt not. Down, black devil, Venomous viper, Down and die now! High o'er the heads Of scaly-bright serpents Steppeth the race of the glorious Goths!" CHAPTER IV. As he finished speaking, and was bending to examine the snake, the girl suddenly placed the wreath which she had made upon his curly auburn hair. "Hail, hero and helper! Look! the victor's wreath was ready for thee. Ah! how well the blue flowers become thee!" And she clapped her hands joyfully. "Thy foot is bleeding!" said Adalgoth anxiously; "let me suck the wound. If the poisonous snake has bitten thee!" "It was only a sharp stone. Thou wouldst better like to die thyself?" "For thee, Gotho, how gladly! But the poison is harmless in the mouth. Now let me wash thy wound. I have still some vinegar and water left in my gourd. And then I will put sage-leaves upon it, and healing endive." Thus saying, he gently made her sit down upon a stone, lifted her naked foot and dropped the mixture out of the gourd upon it. This done, he sprang up, looked about in the grass, and presently returned with some soothing herbs, which he tied carefully over the wound with the leather strap which he loosened from his own foot. "How kind thou art, dear boy!" said the girl, stroking his hair. "Now let me carry thee--only up the hill?" he begged; "I should so like to hold thee in my arms!" "Indeed thou shalt not!" she laughed, as she sprang up; "I am no wounded lamb! See how I can run. But where are thy goats?" "There they come out from the juniper-trees. I will call them." And putting his shepherd's-pipe to his mouth, he blew a shrill note, swinging his stick round his head. The sturdy goats came leaping towards him--fearing punishment. And now, laying his arm tenderly about the girl's neck, and strewing a stripe of salt from his pocket upon the earth, which the goats, following, eagerly licked up, Adalgoth went up the slope. "But tell me, dearest," said Gotho, when they had arrived at the top of the hill, and she was gathering her lambs together, "why thy cry was again 'Alaric! Alaric!' just as when thou madest the eagle leave my little White Elf, which it had already seized in its talons?" "That is my battle-cry." "Who taught it thee?" "Grandfather; the first time he took me with him to hunt wolves. The time when I got this skin from Master Isegrim's ribs. As I sprang at the wolf, which could not escape and turned to attack me, crying 'Iffa,' just as I had always heard grandfather cry, he said, 'Thou must not cry "Iffa," Adalgoth. When thou attackest a hero or a monster, cry "Alaric!" it will bring thee luck.'" "But none of our ancestors are so named, brother. We know all their names." They had now reached the stalls, into which they drove the animals, and then seated themselves before an open window upon a wooden bench, which ran round the front of the house on each side of the door. "There are," counted Gotho, "first Iffamer, our father; and Uncle Wargs, who was buried by the mountain; then Iffa, our grandfather; Iffamuth, our other uncle; Iffaswinth, his son; and Iffarich, our great-grandfather; and Iffa again--but no Alaric." "And yet I feel as if I had often heard that name at the time when I used first to run about the mountain; when the great landslip killed Uncle Wargs. And I like the name. Grandfather has told me about a hero-king who was called so; who was first of all the heroes to conquer the fortress of Roma--thou knowest, it is the city from which father and Uncle Iffamuth and Cousin Iffaswinth never returned. And that hero died young, like Siegfried, the dragon-killer, and Balthar, the heathen god. And his grave is in a deep river. There he lies on his golden shield, under his treasures, and tall reeds bend and wave above him. And now another king has arisen, who is called Totila, as the warriors who relieved the garrison over there in the Castle of Teriolis told me. They say he is just like that Alaric, and like Siegfried and the Sun-god. And grandfather says that I also shall become a warrior and go down to King Totila and rush into the fray with the cry of 'Alaric! Alaric!' Long ago I got tired of climbing about and keeping goats here on the mountains, where there is nothing to fight but wolves, or at most a bear which eats up the grapes and honey-combs. You all praise my harp-playing and my songs, but I feel that they are not worth it, and that I cannot learn much more from the old man. I should like to sing better things. I am never tired of listening to the soldiers' stories about the victories of glorious King Totila. Lately I gave the best chamois I ever shot to old Hunibad--whom the King sent up here to nurse his wounds--so that he might tell me, for the third time, all about the battle at the bridge across the Padus, and how King Totila himself overthrew that black devil, the dreadful Cethegus. And I have made a song about it, which begins: "Tremble, thou traitor, Cunning Cethegus; Tricks will not serve thee; Teja the terrible Daunts thy defiance. And brightly arises, Like morning and May-time, Like night from the darkness, The favourite of Heaven, The bright and the beautiful King of the Goths. "But it goes no further; and I can make no more poetry alone. I need a master for the words and the harp. I should like to finish a song that I have began about the spear-hurler Teja, whom they call the 'Black Earl,' and who is said to play the harp wonderfully. And long ago--but this I tell to thee alone--I should have run away without asking grandfather, who always says I am too young yet, if _one_ thing did not keep me back." He sprang hastily up. "What is that, brother?" asked Gotho, who sat quite still and looked full at him with her large blue eyes. "Nay, if thou dost not guess it," he answered almost angrily, "I cannot tell thee. But now I must go and forge some new arrow-points in the smithy. First give me one more kiss--there! And now let me kiss each of thine eyes, and thy fair hair. Good-bye, dear sister, until supper-time." He left her and ran to a side building, before the door of which stood a grind-stone and various implements. Gotho rested her cheek upon her hand, and looked thoughtful. Then she said aloud: "I cannot guess it; for of course he would take me with him. We could not live apart." She rose with a slight sigh, and went to a field near the house, to look after the linen which was lying there bleaching. But now old Iffa rose from his seat behind the open window, where he had heard all that had passed. "This will not do," he cried, rubbing his head hard. "I never yet had the heart to separate the children--for they were but children! I always waited and waited; and now I think I have put it off a little too long. Away with thee, young Adalgoth!" He left the dwelling-house, and walked slowly to the smithy. He found the boy working busily. With puffed-out cheeks, he blew into the fire on the hearth, and held the already roughly-prepared arrow-points in it, in order to make them red-hot and fit for the hammer. Then he took them out with a pair of pincers, laid them on an anvil, and hammered out neat points and hooks. Without pausing in his work, he nodded silently to his grandfather, striking sturdily upon the anvil till the sparks flew. "Well," thought the old man, "just now, at least, he thinks of nothing but arrows and iron." But suddenly the young smith finished his work with a tremendous stroke, threw away the hammer, passed his hand across his hot forehead, and asked, turning sharply to the old man: "Grandfather, where do men come from?" "Jesus, Woden, and Maria!" exclaimed the old man, starting back. "Boy, how comest thou to such thoughts?" "The thoughts come to me, not I to them. I mean the first men--the very first. That tall Hermegisel over there in Teriolis, who ran away from the Arian church at Verona, and can read and write, says that the Christian God made a man in a garden out of clay, and, while he slept, took one of his ribs and made a woman. That is ridiculous; for out of the longest rib that ever was, one could not make ever so small a girl." "Well, I don't believe it either," the old man thoughtfully confessed. "It is difficult to imagine. And I remember that my father once said, as he was sitting by the hearth, that the first men grew upon trees. But old Hildebrand, who was his friend, although he was much older--and who stopped here on his way back from an expedition against the savage Bajuvars, and who was sitting near father, for it was early in the year, and very rough and cold--_he_ said that it was all right about the trees; only that men did not grow on them, but that two heathen gods--Hermegisel called them demons--once found an ash and an alder lying on the sea-shore, and from them they framed a man and a woman. They still sing an old song about it. Hildebrand knew a few words of it, but my father could not remember it." "I would rather believe that. But, at all events, there were very few people at the beginning?" "To be sure." "And at first there was only _one_ family?" "Certainly." "And the old ones generally died before the young ones?" "Of course." "Then I tell thee what, grandfather. Either the race of men must have died out, or, as it still exists--and thou seest that is what I am coming to--brothers and sisters must often have married each other, until more families were formed." "Adalgoth, the fairies are riding thee! Thou speakest nonsense!" "Not at all. And, in short, if it could happen before, it can happen now; and I will have my sister Gotho for my wife." The old man ran to stop the boy's mouth by force; but the lad evaded him and said: "I know all that thou wouldst say. The priests from Tridentum would soon get to know of it here, and tell the King's Earl. But I can go with her to some distant land, where no one knows us. And she will go with me, I know." "Indeed! Thou knowest that already?" "Yes; I am sure." "But this thou dost not know, Adalgoth," the old man now said, gravely and decidedly: "that to-night is the last which thou wilt spend upon the 'Iffinger.' Up, Adalgoth! I command thee--I, thy grandfather and guardian! Thou hast a sacred duty to perform--the duty of revenge! Thou wilt fulfil it at the court, and with the army of Totila. A duty bequeathed to thee by thine uncle Wargs--bequeathed to thee by thine ancestor. Thou art now old and strong enough to undertake it. To-morrow, at dawn of day, thou wilt start for the south--for Italia, where King Totila punishes evil-doers, helps the good cause, and fights against that wretch, Cethegus. Follow me to my chamber. I have to hand over to thee a jewel, which was left for thee by thine uncle Wargs, and to give thee many a word of counsel. But do not speak about it to Gotho; do not make her heart heavy. If thou obeyest thine uncle's orders and my counsel, thou wilt become a mighty and joyous hero in King Totila's court. And then, but only then, thou shalt again see Gotho!" Very grave and pale, the youth followed his grandfather into the house. There, in the old man's chamber, they talked in low voices for a long time. At supper, Adalgoth was missing. He sent word to Gotho by their grandfather that he had gone to bed, being more tired than hungry. But at night, when Gotho slept, he went into her room on tiptoe. The moon threw a soft light upon her angel face. Adalgoth stopped upon the threshold, and only stretched out his right hand towards her. "I shall see thee again, my Gotho," he cried, and signed a farewell. Presently he crossed the threshold of the simple alpine cottage. The stars had scarcely begun to pale; fresh and exhilarating the night-wind blew from the mountains around his temples. He looked up at the silent sky. All at once a falling star shot in a bright semicircle over his head. It fell towards the south. The youth raised his shepherd's staff, and cried: "The stars beckon thither! Now beware, Cethegus the traitor!" CHAPTER V. On seeing the disastrous result of the battle at the bridge across the Padus, the Prefect had sent messengers back to his troops and the armed citizens of Ravenna, who were following him, to order them to return at once to the latter city. He left the defeated troops of Demetrius to their fate. Totila had taken all the flags and field-badges of the twelve thousand, a thing which, as Procopius angrily writes, "never before happened to the Romans." Cethegus himself, with his small band of trusty adherents, hastened across the Æmilia to the west coast of Italy, which he reached at Populonium. There he went on board a swift ship of war, and, favoured by a strong breeze from the north-east (sent, as he said, by the ancient gods of Latium), sailed to the harbour of Rome--Portus. He could never have succeeded in reaching Rome by land, for, after Totila's victory, all Tuscany and Valeria fell to the Goths; the plains unconditionally, and also such cities as were held by weak Byzantine garrisons. Near Mucella, a day's march from Florence, the King once again vanquished a powerful army of Byzantines, under the command of eleven disunited leaders, who had gathered together the imperial garrisons of the Tuscan fortresses to block his way. The commander-in-chief of this army, Justinus, escaped to Florence with difficulty. The King treated his numerous prisoners with such lenity, that very many Italians and imperial mercenaries deserted their flag and joined the Gothic army. And now all the roads of Central Italy were covered by Goths and natives who hastened to join Totila on his march to Rome. Arrived at the latter city, Cethegus had at once taken the necessary measures for its defence. For Totila, after this new victory at Mucella, approached rapidly, scarcely detained by anything but the ovations made to him by the cities and castles on his way, which rivalled each other in opening wide their gates to the conqueror. The few forts which still resisted were invested by small divisions of Italians, kept in order by a few chosen Gothic troops. Totila was enabled to do this without weakening his army, as, during his march to Rome, his power was increased, like a river, by the inflowing of greater or smaller parties of Goths and Italians. Not only did the Italian peasants join him by thousands, but even the mercenaries of Belisarius, who for months had received no pay, now offered their weapons to the Goths, so that a few days after the arrival of the Prefect, Totila led a very considerable army before the walls of Rome. With loud hurrahs the troops in the Gothic encampment greeted the arrival of the brave Duke Guntharis, Wisand the bandalarius. Earl Markja, and old Grippa, whose release Totila had procured by exchanging them for the prisoners taken at the battle of the Padus. And now the almost impossible task was laid upon Cethegus of manning effectually his grandly-designed fortifications. The whole army of Belisarius was missing--besides the greater part of his own soldiers, who were slowly sailing to the harbour of Portcus from Ravenna. In order, even insufficiently, to defend the entire circle of the ramparts, Cethegus was obliged, not only to demand unusual and unexpected exertions from the Roman legionaries, but also to increase their numbers by despotic measures. From boys of sixteen years of age to old men of sixty, he called "all the sons of Romulus, Camillus, and Cæsar to arms; to protect the sanctuary of their forefathers against the barbarians." But his appeal was scarcely read or propagated, and was responded to by very few volunteers; while he saw with mortification that the manifesto of the Gothic King, which was thrown every night over the walls in many places, was carried about and read by crowds; so that he angrily proclaimed that anyone found picking up, pasting on the walls, or reading this manifesto, or in any way facilitating its publication, would be punished by the confiscation of his property or the loss of his liberty. In spite of this, the manifesto still spread among the citizens, and the list of volunteers remained empty. He then sent his Isaurians into all the houses to drag boys and old men to the walls by force; and very soon he was more feared, and even hated, than beloved. His stern will, and the gradual arrival of his troops from Ravenna, alone checked the growing discontent of the Roman population. But in the Gothic camp messengers of good fortune overtook each other. Teja and Hildebrand had pursued the Byzantines to the gates of Ravenna. The defence of that city was conducted by Demetrius, one of the exchanged prisoners, and by Bloody Johannes; that of the harbour town of Classis by Constantianus against Hildebrand, who had won Ariminum in passing, for the citizens had disarmed the Armenian mercenaries of Artasires and opened the gates. Teja had beaten the troops of the Byzantine general Verus, who had defended the crossing of the Santernus; had killed the general with his own hand, and had then hastened through the whole of North Italy with the manifesto in his left hand, his sword in his right, and in a few weeks had won by force or by persuasion all towns and castles as far as Mediolanum. But Totila, taught by the experience of the first siege of Rome, would not expose his troops by attempting to storm the formidable defences of the Prefect, and also desired to spare his future capital. "I will get into Rome with linen wings, and on wooden bridges," he one day said to Duke Guntharis; left to him the investment of the city; and taking all his horsemen with him, marched for Neapolis. There in the harbour lay, very inefficiently manned, an imperial fleet. Totila's march upon the Appian Way through South Italy resembled a triumphal procession. Those districts which had suffered the longest under the yoke of the Byzantines were now most willing to greet the Goths as liberators. The maidens of Terracina went to meet the King of the Goths with wreaths of flowers. The people of Minturnæ brought out a golden chariot, made the King descend from his white horse, and dragged him into the town in triumph. "Look! look!" was the cry in the streets of Casilinum--an ancient place once dedicated to the worship of the Campanian Diana--"Ph[oe]bus Apollo himself has descended from Olympus and comes as a saviour to the sanctuary of his sister!" The citizens of Capua begged him to impress the first gold coins of his reign with the inscription, "_Capua revindicata_." Thus it continued until he reached Neapolis; the very same road he had once passed as a wounded fugitive. The commander of the Armenian mercenaries in Neapolis, who had a very brave but small troop, did not dare to trust the fidelity of the population in case of a siege. He therefore led his lance-bearers and the armed citizens to meet the King outside the gates. But before the battle commenced, a man on a white horse rode out of the lines of Goths, took his helmet from his head, and cried: "Have you forgotten me, men of the Parthenopæian city? I am Totila. You loved me when I was commander of your harbour. You shall bless me as your King. Do you not recollect how I saved in my ships your wives and children from the Huns of Belisarius? Listen. These very wives and children are again in my power; not as fugitives, but as prisoners. To protect them from the Byzantines (perhaps from me also), you sent them into the strong fortress of Cumæ. But know that Cumæ has surrendered, and all the fugitives are in my power. I have been advised to keep them as hostages in order to compel you to capitulate. But that is repugnant to my feelings. I have set them at liberty; the wives of the Roman senators I have sent to Rome. But your wives and children, men of Neapolis, I have brought with me; not as my hostages, not as my prisoners, but as my guests. Look how they stream out of my tents! Open your arms to receive them--they are free! Will you now fight against me? I cannot believe it! Who will be the first to aim at this breast?" and he opened wide his arms. "Hail to King Totila the Good!" was the universal acclamation. And the warm-hearted men threw down their weapons, rushed forward, and greeted with tears of joy their liberated wives and children, kissing the hem of Totila's mantle. The commander of the mercenaries rode up to him. "My lancers are surrounded and too weak to fight alone. Here, O King, is my sword. I am your prisoner." "Not so, brave Arsakide! Thou art unconquered--therefore no prisoner. Go with thy troop whither thou wilt." "I _am_ a prisoner, conquered by your magnanimity and the splendour of your eyes. Permit us henceforward to fight under your flag." In this manner a chosen troop, who stood by him faithfully, was won for Totila. Amid a shower of flowers he made his entry into Neapolis through Porta Nolana. Before Aratius, the admiral of the Byzantine fleets could raise the anchors of his war-ships, their crews were overpowered by the sailors of the many merchant vessels which lay near in the harbour, the masters of which were old admirers and thankful _protégés_ of Totila. Without shedding a drop of blood, the King had gained a fleet and the third city of importance in the kingdom. In the evenings during the banquet which the rejoicing inhabitants had prepared for him, Totila stole softly away. With surprise the Gothic sentinels saw their King, all alone, disappear into an old half-fallen tower, close to an ancient olive-tree by the Porta Capuana. The next day there appeared a decree of Totila which dispensed the women and girls of the Jews of Neapolis from a pole-tax which had, until now, been laid upon them; and which--they being forbidden to carry jewels in public--permitted them to wear a golden heart upon the bosom of their dress as a mark of distinction. In the neglected garden, where a tall stone cross and a deep-sunk grave were completely overgrown with wild ivy and moss, there presently arose a monument of the most beautiful black marble, with the simple inscription: "_Miriam from Valeria._" But there was no one living in Neapolis who understood its meaning. CHAPTER VI. There now streamed into Neapolis ambassadors from Campania and Samnium, Bruttia and Lucania, Apulia and Calabria, who came to invite the Gothic King to enter their cities as a liberator. Even the important and strong fortress of Beneventum and the neighbouring forts of Asculum, Canusia, and Acheruntia surrendered at discretion. In these districts thousands of cases occurred in which the peasants were settled upon the lands of their former masters, who had fallen in battle, or had fled to Byzantium or to Rome. Besides Rome and Ravenna, there were now in the hands of the Byzantines, only Florentia, held by Justinus; Spoletium, whose joint governors were Bonus and Herodianus; and Perusia, under the Hun, Uldugant. In a few days the King, reinforced by many Italians from the south of the Peninsula, had new manned his conquered fleet, and left the harbour in full sail, while his horsemen marched by land on the Via Appia to the north. Rome was the goal of both ships and horse; while Teja, having conquered all the country between Ravenna and the Tiber--Petra and Cæsena fell without bloodshed--the Æmilia and both Tuscanies (the Annonarian and the Sub-urbicarian), marched with a third army on the Flaminian Way against the city of the Prefect. On hearing of these movements, Cethegus was obliged to acknowledge that the struggle would now begin in good earnest, and, like a dragon in his den, he determined to defend himself to the death. With a proud and contented look he viewed the ramparts and towers, and said to his brothers-in-arms, who were uneasy at the approach of the Goths: "Be comforted! Against these invincible walls they shall be broken to pieces for the second time!" But at heart he was not so easy as his words and looks would seem to indicate. Not that he ever repented his past deeds or thought his plans unachievable. But that when, after repeated reverses, he appeared to have arrived at the point of success, he should be as far off the goal as ever because of Totila's victories--this feeling had a great effect upon even _his_ iron nerves. "Water wears away a rock!" he said, when his friend Licinius once asked him why he looked so gloomy. "And besides, I cannot sleep as I used to do." "Since when?" "Since--Totila! That fair youth has stolen my slumbers!" Though the Prefect felt so secure and so superior to all his enemies and adversaries, Totila's bright and open nature, and his easily-won success, irritated him so much, that his coolness often melted in the heat of his passion; while Totila went to meet the universally feared foe with a sense of victory which nothing could disquiet. "He has luck, the downy-beard!" cried Cethegus, when he heard of the easy conquest of Neapolis. "He is as fortunate as Achilles and Alexander. But luckily such god-like youths never grow old! The soft gold of such natures is quickly worn out. We lumps of native iron last longer. I have seen the laurels and roses of the enthusiast, and it seems to me that I shall soon see his cypresses. It cannot be that I shall yield to this maiden soul! Fortune has borne him rapidly to a dizzy height; she will hurl him down as rapidly and dizzily. Will she first carry him over the ramparts of Rome?--Fly then, without effort, young Icarus, in the brightest sunshine. I, through blood and strife, step by step, climb up in the shade. But I shall stand on high when the treacherous and burning kiss of Fortune has melted the wax on thy bold wings. Thou wilt vanish beneath me like a falling star!" This, however, did not seem likely to happen soon. Cethegus awaited with impatience the arrival of a numerous fleet from Ravenna, which was to bring him the remainder of his troops, and all who could be spared of the legionaries and the troops of Demetrius, as well as a quantity of provisions. When these reinforcements had arrived, he would be able to relieve the grumbling Romans from their arduous duties. For weeks he had comforted the embittered inhabitants with the promise of this fleet. At last it was announced by a swift-sailer that the fleet had reached Ostia. Cethegus caused the news to be published in all the streets with a flourish of trumpets, and announced that at the next Ides of October, eight thousand citizens would be relieved from duty on the walls. He also caused double rations of wine to be distributed among the soldiers on the ramparts. When the Ides of October arrived, thick fog covered Ostia and the sea. The day after, a little sailing-boat flew from Ostia to Portus. The trembling crew announced that King Totila had attacked the Ravennese triremes with the fleet from Neapolis, under the protection of a thick fog. Of the eighty ships, twenty were burnt or sunk; the remaining sixty, with all their men and provisions, taken. Cethegus would not believe it. He hurried on board his own swift boat, the _Sagitta_, and flew down the Tiber. But with difficulty he escaped the boats of the King, who had already blockaded the harbour of Portus and sent small cruisers up the river. The Prefect now hastily caused a double river-bolt to be laid across the Tiber; the first consisting of masts; the second of iron chains placed an arrow's length farther up the river. The space between the two bolts was filled with a great number of small boats. Cethegus felt deeply the blow which had fallen upon him. Not only had his long-wished-for reinforcements fallen into the enemy's hand; not only was he obliged to lay still heavier burdens upon the Romans, who began to curse him, for now the river, too, had to be defended against the constant attempts of the Gothic ships to break through; but with a slight shudder of horror he saw approaching nearer and nearer the most terrible of all enemies--famine. The water-road, by which he, as formerly Belisarius, had received abundant provisions, was now blocked. Italy had no third fleet. That of Neapolis and that of Ravenna blockaded Rome under the Gothic flag. And now the horsemen which Marcus Licinius had sent on the Flaminian Way to reconnoitre and forage, came galloping back with the news that a strong army of Goths, under the dreaded Teja, was approaching at a quick step. The vanguard had already reached Reate. The day following Rome was also invested on the last side which had remained open--the north--and had nothing left to depend upon but its own citizens. And the latter were weak enough, however strong might be the Prefect's will and the walls of the city. Yet for weeks and months Cethegus's stern resolution sustained the despairing defenders against their will. At last the fall of the city, not by force, but by starvation, was expected daily. At this juncture an unexpected event occurred, which revived the hopes of the besieged, and put the genius and good fortune of the young King to a hard proof: for there once more appeared upon the scene of battle--Belisarius! CHAPTER VII. When news arrived in the golden palace of the Cæsars at Byzantium of the lost battles on the Padus and at Mucella; of the renewed siege of Rome, and the loss of Neapolis and almost all Italy, the Emperor Justinian, who had already imagined the West again united to the East, was awakened from his dream of triumph in a terrible manner. It was now easy for the friends of Belisarius to prove that the recall of that hero had been the origin of all these disasters. It was clear that as long as Belisarius had been in Italy victory had followed victory; and no sooner had he turned his back, than misfortunes crowded one upon the other. The Byzantine generals in Italy openly acknowledged that they could not replace Belisarius. "I am not able," wrote Demetrius from Ravenna, "to meet Totila in the open field. Scarcely am I able to defend this fortress in the marshes. Neapolis has fallen. Rome may surrender any day. Send us again the lion-hearted man, whom, in our vanity, we dreamed we could replace--the conqueror of the Vandals and the Goths." And Belisarius, although he had sworn never again to serve the ungrateful Emperor, forgot all his wrongs as soon as Justinian smiled upon him. And when, after the fall of Neapolis, he actually embraced him and called him "his faithful sword"--in truth, the Emperor had never believed in the general's rebellion, but was envious of his sovereign position--Belisarius could no longer be restrained by Antonina and Procopius. As, however, the Emperor feared the expense of a second enterprise in Italy (besides that of the Persian wars, which Narses conducted successfully but expensively in Asia), avarice and ambition produced a struggle within him, which would, perhaps, have lasted longer than the resistance of Rome and Ravenna, had not Prince Germanus and Belisarius proposed an expedient. The noble Prince was impelled by the wish to revisit Ravenna and the tomb of Mataswintha, and to revenge her memory on the rude barbarians, for Cethegus had declared that the cause of the tragic end of this incomparable woman was that her mind had been disordered in consequence of her forced marriage with Witichis. Belisarius, on his side, could not endure that all his fame should be imperilled by Totila's success. "For," asked his enemies at court, "could he really have conquered a people who, within the year, had again almost made themselves masters of Italy?" He had given his word to annihilate the Goths, and he would keep it. So, influenced by these motives, Germanus and Belisarius proposed to conquer Italy for the Emperor at their own expense. The Prince offered his whole fortune for the equipment of a fleet; Belisarius all his lately reinforced body-guard and lance-bearers. "That is a proposition after Justinian's own heart!" cried Procopius, when informed of it by Belisarius. "Not a solidus out of his own pocket! And perhaps the laurels of fame and a province for this world, and the wholesale destruction of heretics to rejoice Heaven and Theodora! You may be sure that he will accept, and give you his fatherly benediction into the bargain. But nothing else. You, Belisarius, I know, can be as little kept back as Balan, your piebald, when he hears the call of the trumpet; but I will not see your lamentable fall." "Fall? Wherefore, Raven of Misfortune?" "This time you have both Goths and Italians against you. And you could not conquer the first when Italy was _for_ you." But Belisarius only reproached him with cowardice, and presently went to sea with Germanus. The Emperor, in fact, gave them nothing but his blessings and the great toe of the holy Mazaspes. The Byzantines in Italy breathed again when they heard that an imperial fleet had anchored off Salona, in Dalmatia, and that the army had landed. Even Cethegus, to whom the news was brought by spies, exclaimed with a sigh: "Better Belisarius in Rome than Totila!" And the King of the Goths was filled with anxiety. He determined first of all to discover the strength of the Byzantine army, in order to decide upon what course he would take. Perhaps it would be necessary to raise the siege of Rome, and advance to attack the army of relief. Belisarius sailed from Salona to Pola, where he mustered his ships and men. While there, two men came to him, who announced themselves to be Herulian mercenaries, therefore Goths, but speaking Latin well. They said that they had been sent by Bonus, one of the commanders of Spoletium. They had succeeded in passing the Gothic lines, and they pressed the commander-in-chief to come to the relief of that place. They begged for exact particulars as to the strength of his army and the number of his ships, in order to be able to revive the sinking courage of the besieged by trustworthy reports. "Well, my friends," said Belisarius, "you must perforce embellish your report; for the truth is, that the Emperor has left me entirely to my own resources." All the day long he showed these messengers his army and fleet. The night following the messengers had disappeared. They were Thorismuth and Aligern, who had been sent by King Totila, and now furnished him with the much-desired particulars. So, from the very beginning, fate was against Belisarius, and the whole course of this campaign was unworthy of the fame of that great general. It is true that he succeeded in running into the harbour of Ravenna, and providing that city with provisions. But, the very day that he arrived. Prince Germanus was attacked by a fatal malady while visiting the tomb of Mataswintha. She had been buried in the vault of the palace, near the graves of her brother and the young King Athalaric. Germanus died, and, according to his last wish, was buried beside the woman he had loved so truly. In a little niche in the same vault there reposed a heart which had ever beat warmly for Queen "Beautiful-hair." Aspa, the Numidian slave, would not outlive her beloved mistress. "In my home," she had said, "the virgins of the Goddess of the Sun often voluntarily leap into the flames which receive the Godhead. Aspa's goddess, the lovely, bright, and kind, has left her. Aspa will not live forlorn in the cold and darkness. She will follow her Sun." She had heaped up flowers in the death-chamber of her mistress--heaped them still higher than on the day when she had prepared the same small room for a bridal chamber--and had kindled unknown combustibles and African resin, the stupefying odours of which drove away all the other slaves. But Aspa had spent the night in the room. The next morning Syphax, attracted by the well-known but dangerous odour, which reminded him of his country's sacrificial customs, went softly into the room, which was as silent as the grave. At Mataswintha's feet, her head buried in flowers, he had found his Antelope--dead. "She died," he told Cethegus, "for love of her mistress. And now I have none left on earth but you." After the burial of Germanus, Belisarius left Ravenna with the whole fleet. But his very next undertaking, an attempt to surprise Pisaurum, was repulsed with great loss. And King Totila, now acquainted with the small number of Belisarius's troops, had sent skirmishers, under the command of Wisand, supported by a few ships of war, to take Firmum, which was situated on the same coast, almost under the generals very eyes. The Byzantines, Herodian and Bonus, surrendered Spoletium to Earl Grippa, after the lapse of thirty days, during which they had hoped for reinforcements from Belisarius in vain. In Assisium the commander of the garrison was a man of the name of Sisifrid, a Goth who had deserted in the days of the fall of Witichis. This man well knew what was in store for him, should he fall into Hildebrand's hands, who besieged the fort in person. Hatred of such treason had enticed the old man from the siege of Ravenna to complete this task of retribution. The Goth obstinately defended the town, but when, during a sally, the axe of the old master-at-arms sent him to the other world, the citizens obliged the Thracian garrison to yield. Many aristocratic Italians, members of the old Catacomb conspiracy, three hundred Illyrian horsemen, and some chosen body-guards of Belisarius, were taken prisoners. Immediately afterwards, Placentia, the last town in the Æmilia which was held by a Saracen garrison for the Emperor, was forced to capitulate to Earl Markja, who commanded the small army of investment. In Bruttia, the fortress of Ruscia, the most important harbour for Thurii, surrendered to the bold Aligern. Belisarius now despaired of reaching Rome by land. On hearing of the terrible distress of that city, he determined at once to attempt to relieve it by running the blockade of the Gothic fleet. But as he sailed round the south point of Calabria, off Hydrunt, a fearful storm dispersed his ships; he himself, with a few triremes, was driven southward as far as Sicily, and the greater part of his ships, which had taken refuge in a bay near Croton, were there surprised and taken by a Gothic squadron sent by the King from Rome, which had lain in ambush near Squillacium. These prizes proved to be an important addition to the Gothic fleet, for, as we shall see hereafter, the Goths, were thereby enabled to attack the Byzantines in their islands and coast-towns. After this blow, the forces of Belisarius, which had been weak from the very first, became completely powerless. Generalship and valour could not replace missing ships, warriors, and horses. The hope that the Italians, as in the first campaign, would revolt to the Emperor's commander-in-chief, proved vain. Thus the whole enterprise was a complete failure, as we are told by Procopius in unsparing words. The Emperor left all petitions for reinforcements unanswered. And when Antonina repeatedly begged for permission to return, the Empress sent the mocking reply, "that the Emperor dare not venture, for the second time, to interrupt the hero in the course of his victories." So, lying off Sicily, Belisarius spent a miserable time of doubt and helplessness. CHAPTER VIII. And meanwhile the suffering and exhaustion of the citizens in Rome reached its highest point. Hunger thinned the ranks, never very full, of the defenders on the walls. The Prefect in vain did his utmost. In vain he had recourse to all possible measures of persuasion or despotism. In vain he lavishly opened his coffers to provide the means of existence for the people. For the stores of grain which he had procured from Sicily and garnered in the Capitol were exhausted. He promised incredible rewards to any boat which should succeed in running the blockade of the King's ships and bring provisions to the city; to every mercenary who ventured to creep through the gates and the tents of the besiegers and bring back food. But Totila's watchfulness was not to be deceived. At first the promised reward had tempted a few avaricious and daring men to venture out at night. But when Earl Teja, next morning, caused their heads to be thrown over the walls at the Flaminian Gate, even the most venturesome lost all desire to follow their example. The dung of animals was sold at a high price. Hungry women fought for the weeds and nettles which they found on the heaps of rubbish. Long since had hunger taught the populace to eat greedily unheard-of things. And countless deserters fled from the city to the Goths. Teja would have forced them to return, in order the sooner to oblige the city to surrender; but Totila gave orders that they should be received and fed, and that care should be taken that they did not injure themselves by the too sudden gratification of their ravenous appetites. Cethegus now spent his nights upon the walls. At various hours he himself, spear and shield in hand, went the round of the patrols, and sometimes took the place of a sentinel who was overcome with hunger or the want of sleep. His example certainly had the greatest effect on the brave. The two Licinii, Piso, and Salvius Julianus stood by the Prefect and his blindly-devoted Isaurians with enthusiasm. But not so all Romans; not Balbus, the gormandiser. "No, Piso," said Balbus one day, "I cannot endure it any longer. It is not in a man's power, at least not in mine. Holy Lucullus! who would have thought that I should ever give my last and largest diamonds for half a rock-marten!" "I remember the time," answered Piso, laughing, "when you would have put your cook in irons if he had let a lobster boil a minute too long." "A lobster! Mercy on us! How can you recall such a picture to my mind! I would give my immortal soul for one claw of a lobster, or even for the tail. And never to sleep one's fill! To be awakened, if not by hunger, by the trumpets of the patrol!" "Look at the Prefect! For the last fourteen days he has not slept fourteen hours. He lies upon his hard shield, and drinks rain-water out of his helmet." "The Prefect! He need not eat. He lives upon his pride, like the bear on his fat, and sucks his own gall. He is made of nothing but sinews and muscles, pride and hatred! But I--who had accumulated such soft white flesh, that the mice nibbled at me when I slept, thinking that I was a Spanish ham!--Do you know the latest news? A whole herd of fat oxen was driven into the Gothic camp this morning--all from Apulia; darlings of gods and men!" The next day early Piso, with Salvius Julianus, came to wake the Prefect, who had lain down on the wall by the Porta Portuensis, close to the most important point of defence, the bolt across the river. "Forgive me for disturbing your rare slumbers." "I was not asleep; I was awake. Tell me your news, tribune." "Last night Balbus deserted his post with twenty citizens. They let themselves down from the Porta Latina by ropes. Outside there had been heard all night long the lowing of Apulian herds. It seems that their bellowing was irresistible." But the smile of the satirist faded away when he looked at the Prefect's face. "Let a cross thirty feet high be erected before the house of Balbus in the Via Sacra. Every deserter who falls into our hands shall be crucified thereon." "General--Constantinus abolished the punishment of crucifixion in the name of our Saviour," said Salvius Julianus reprovingly. "Then I re-introduce the practice in honour of Rome. That Emperor no doubt held it to be impossible that a Roman noble and tribune could desert his post for the sake of roast meat." "I have other news. I can no longer set the watch on the tower of the Porta Pinciana. Of the sixteen mercenaries nine are either dead or sick." "Almost the same thing is reported by Marcus Licinius, at the Porta Tiburtina," said Julianus. "Who can ward off the danger which threatens us on all sides?" "I! and the courage of the Romans. Go! Let the heralds summon all the citizens, who may yet be in the houses, to the Forum Romanum." "Sir, there are only women, children, and sick people----" "Obey, tribune!" And with a dark expression on his face the Prefect descended from the walls, mounted his noble Spanish charger, and, followed by a troop of mounted Isaurians, made a long round through the city, everywhere assuring himself that the sentinels were on the alert, and examining the troops; thus giving the herald time to summon the people, and the latter to obey. He advanced, very slowly, along the right bank of the Tiber. A few ragged people crept out of their huts to stare in dull despair at the passing horsemen. Only at the Bridge of Cestius did the throng become thicker. Cethegus stopped his horse in order to muster the guard on the bridge. Suddenly, from the door of a low hut, there rushed a woman with dishevelled hair, holding a child in her arms. Another pulled at her ragged skirt. "Bread? bread?" she asked; "can stones be softened by tears until they become bread? Oh no! They remain as hard--as hard as that man. Look, children, that is the Prefect of Rome. He upon the black horse, with the crimson crest and the terrible eyes! But I fear him no longer. Look, children! that man forced your father to keep watch on the walls day and night, until he fell dead. Curses on the Prefect of Rome!" And she shook her fist at the immovable horseman. "Bread, mother! Give us something to eat," howled the children. "I have nothing more for you to eat, but plenty to drink! Come!" screamed the woman, and, clasping the elder child round the waist with her right arm, and pressing the younger more firmly to her bosom, she cast herself over the wall into the river. A cry of horror, followed by curses, ran through the crowd. "She was mad!" said the Prefect in a loud voice, and rode on. "No, she was the wisest of us all!" cried a voice from the crowd. "Silence! Legionaries, sound the trumpets! Forwards! To the Forum!" commanded Cethegus, and the troop of horsemen galloped away. Across the Fabrician Bridge and through the Carmentalian Gate, the Prefect arrived in the Forum Romanum at the foot of the Capitoline Hill. The wide space appeared almost empty; the few thousand people who, clad in miserable garments, crouched upon the steps of the temple and halls, or supported themselves on their staffs or spears, made little impression. "What does the Prefect want?"--"What can he want? we have nothing left but our lives."--"And those he will--" "Do you know that the day before yesterday the coast town Centumcellæ surrendered to the Goths?"--"Yes; the citizens overpowered the Prefect's Isaurians and opened the gates."--"Would that we could follow their example!"--"We must do it soon, or it will be too late."--"Yesterday my brother fell down dead, some boiled nettles still in his mouth. He was too weak to swallow the mess."---"Yesterday in the Forum Boarium a mouse was sold for its weight in gold!"--"For a week I got roasted meat from a butcher--he would not sell the flesh raw."--"You were lucky! They storm all houses where they smell roast meat!"--"But the day before yesterday he was torn to pieces by the mob, for he had enticed beggar-children into his house--and that was the flesh he had sold us!"--"But do you know what the Gothic King does with his prisoners? He treats them as a father treats his helpless children; and most of them enter his army at once."--"Yes, and those who will not he provides with money for the journey."--"Yes, and with clothes and shoes and provisions. The sick and wounded are nursed."--"And he gives them guides to the coast towns."--"And sometimes he even pays for their passage in merchant-ships to the East."--"Look, the Prefect dismounts!" "He looks like Pluto!" "He is no longer Princeps Senatus, but Princeps Inferorum." "Look at his eyes! As cold as ice, and yet like red-hot arrows." "Yes, my godmother is right; she says that only those who have no heart can look like that." "That is an old tale. Spectres and Lemures have eaten his heart in the night." "Ah, bah! There are no Lemures. But there is a devil, for it says so in the Bible. And the Prefect has sold himself to the devil. The Numidian who is holding his black horse by the bridle is an imp from hell, who always accompanies him. Nothing can hurt the Prefect. He feels neither hunger nor thirst nor the want of sleep. But he can never smile, for he has sold his soul!" "How do you know?" "The deacon of St. Paul's has explained it all. And it is a sin to serve such a man any longer. Did he not betray our Bishop, Silverius, to the Emperor, and send him over the sea in chains?" "And lately he accused sixty priests, Orthodox and Arian, of treason, and banished them from the city." "That is true!" "And he must have promised the devil that he would torment the Romans." "But we will endure it no longer. We are free! He himself has often told us so. I will ask him by what right----" But the bold speaker stopped short, for the Prefect glanced at the murmuring group as he mounted the rostrum. "Quirites," he began, "I call upon you all to become legionaries. Famine and treachery--a shameful thing to say of Romans!--have thinned the ranks of our defenders. Do you hear the sound of hammers? A crucifix is being erected to punish all deserters. Rome demands still greater sacrifices from her citizens, for _they_ have no choice. The citizens of other towns choose between surrender or destruction. We, who have grown up in the shadow of the Capitol, have no choice; for more than a thousand years of heroism sanctify this place. Here no coward thought dare arise. You cannot again endure to see the barbarians tie their horses to the columns of Trajan. We must make a last effort. The marrow of heroism ripens early in the descendants of Romulus and Cæsar; and late is spent the strength of the men who drink of the waters of the Tiber. I call upon all boys from their twelfth, all men until their eightieth year, to help to man the walls. Silence! Do not murmur. I shall send my tribunes and the lance-bearers into every house--only to prevent boys of too tender years and too aged men from volunteering their services--then why do you murmur? Does any one know of something better? Let him speak out boldly; from this place, which I now vacate in his favour." At this, the group at which the Prefect looked became perfectly silent. But behind him, amid those whom his eye could not intimidate, there arose a threatening cry: "Bread!" "Surrender!" "Bread!" Cethegus turned. "Are you not ashamed? You, worthy of your great name, have borne so much, and now, when it is only necessary to hold out a little longer, you would succumb? In a few days Belisarius will bring relief." "You told us so seven times already!" "And after the seventh time Belisarius lost almost all his ships. "Which now aid in blocking our harbour!" "You should name a term; a limit to this misery. My heart bleeds for this people!" "Who are you?" the Prefect asked the invisible speaker of the last sentence; "you can be no Roman!" "I am Pelagius the deacon, a Christian and a priest of the Lord. And I fear not man but God. The King of the Goths, although a heretic, has promised to restore to the orthodox the churches of which his fellow-heretics, the Arians, have deprived them, in every town which surrenders. Three times already has he sent a herald to the citizens of Rome with the most lenient proposals--they have never been permitted to speak to us." "Be silent, priest! You have no fatherland but heaven; no people but the communion of saints; no army but that of the angels. Manage your heavenly kingdom, but leave to men the kingdom of the Romans." "But the man of God is right!" "Set us a term." "A short one!" "Till then we will still hold out." "But if it elapse without relief----" "Then we will surrender!" "We will open the gates." But Cethegus shunned this thought. Not having received news from the outer world for weeks, he had no idea when Belisarius could possibly arrive at the mouth of the Tiber. "What!" he cried. "Shall I fix a term during which you will remain Romans, and after which you will become cowards and slaves! Honour knows no term!" "You speak thus, because you do not believe in the reinforcements." "I speak thus, because I believe in _you_!" "But we will have a term. We are resolved. You speak of Roman freedom! Are we free, or are we bound to obey you like your slaves? We demand a term, and we will have it." "We will have it!" repeated a chorus of voices. Before Cethegus could reply, the sound of trumpets was heard from the south-eastern corner of the Forum. From the Via Sacra advanced a crowd of people, citizens and soldiers; in their midst were two horsemen in foreign armour. CHAPTER IX. Lucius Licinius galloped before them, sprang off his horse, and mounted the tribune. "A herald from the Goths! I arrived too late to prevent his entrance as usual. The famished legionaries at the Tiburtinian Gate opened it for him." "Down with him! He must not speak," cried the Prefect, rushing from the tribune and drawing his sword. But the people guessed his intentions. They surrounded the herald with cries of joy, protecting him from the Prefect. "Peace!" "Hail!" "Bread! Peace! Listen to the herald!" "No! do not listen to him!" thundered Cethegus. "Who is Prefect of Rome, he or I? Who defends this city? I, Cornelius Cethegus Cæsarius; and I tell you, do not listen!" And he tried to make a way for himself. But, thick as a swarm of bees, women and old men threw themselves into his path, and the armed citizens surrounded the herald. "Speak, herald!" they cried; "what bring you?" "Peace and deliverance!" cried Thorismuth, and waved his white wand. "Totila, King of the Italians and the Goths, sends you greetings and demands a safe-conduct into the city, in order to tell you important news and to announce peace." "Hail to King Totila!" "We will hear him. He shall come!" Cethegus had hastily mounted his horse, and now ordered his trumpeters to blow a flourish. At this well-known sound, all became quiet. "Hear me, herald! I, the governor of this city, refuse a safe-conduct. I shall treat every Goth who enters this city as an enemy." But at these words a cry of rage burst from the multitude. "Cornelius Cethegus, are you our officer or our tyrant? We are free. You have often vaunted the majesty of the Roman people. And the Roman people command that the King shall be heard. Do we not, people of Rome?" "We do!" "It is according to law," growled the Quirites. "You have heard! Will you obey or defy the people of Rome?" Cethegus sheathed his sword. Thorismuth and his companion galloped off to fetch the King. The Prefect signed to the young tribunes to draw near him. "Lucius Licinius," he said, "go to the Capitol. Salvius Julianus, you will protect the lower river-bolt: the bolt of masts. Quintus Piso, you will defend the chain-bolt. Marcus Licinius, you shall keep the bulwark which protects the ascent to the Capitoline Hill and the way to my house. The mercenaries will follow me." "What do you intend to do, general?" asked Lucius Licinius, as he was preparing to obey the order. "Attack and destroy the barbarians." There were but fifty horsemen and about a hundred lance-bearers to follow the Prefect, when he had sent away the tribunes. Meanwhile the people had waited anxiously for the sound of the Gothic horns. At last they were heard, and presently there appeared Thorismuth and six horn-blowers; Wisand the bandalarius, carrying the royal blue banner of the Goths; the King, accompanied by Duke Guntharis and Earl Teja; and about ten other leaders, almost all without weapons; only Earl Teja displayed his broad and dreaded axe. As this procession was on the point of setting forth from the Gothic encampment, to ride through the Metronian Gate into the city, Duke Guntharis felt some one pull his mantle, and looking down, beheld a boy or youth, with short and curly brown hair and blue eyes, standing near his horse, with a shepherd's staff in his hand. "Art thou the King? No, thou art not he. And that, that is brave Teja, the Black Earl, as the songs call him!" "What wouldst thou with the King, boy?" "I would fight for him." "Thou art still too tender. Go, and return two summers hence. And, meanwhile, guard thy flocks." "I may be young, but I am no longer weak, and I have guarded the flock long enough. Ha! I see that that is the King!" and he went up to Totila, and bowed gracefully, saying: "By thy leave, O King!" And he caught the bridle of the horse to lead it, as if it were a matter of course. The King looked amused, and smiled at the boy. And the boy led his horse. But Guntharis thought: "I have seen that face before! But no, it is only a resemblance; yet such a resemblance I have never seen in my life. And how noble is the young shepherd's carriage!" "Hail to King Totila! Peace and salvation!" cried the people, as the Goths entered the city. But the young guide looked up into the King's shining countenance, and sang in a soft sweet voice: "Cunning Cethegus: Tricks will not serve thee! Teja the terrible Daunts thy defiance. And brightly arises, Like morning and May-time, Like night from the darkness, The favourite of heaven, The bright, and the beautiful King of the Goths! To him are wide opened All halls and all hearts; To him, overpowered, Yield Winter and Woe!" When the King entered the Forum, there fell a dead silence upon the people. But Cethegus, who had expected this, immediately took advantage of it. He urged his horse into the crowd and cried: "What would you, Goth, in this my city?" Totila cast one flaming look at him, and then turned away. "With _him_ I speak, for evermore, only with my sword! With him, the threefold liar and murderer! To _you_ I speak, unhappy and befooled inhabitants of Rome! Your sufferings wring my heart. I come to end your misery. I come without arms, for I am safer, trusting to the honour of Romans, than protected by sword and shield." He paused. Cethegus no more attempted to interrupt him. "Quirites," continued Totila, "you yourselves have truly acknowledged that I might long since have stormed your walls with my hosts. For now you have but stones, and no men to defend them. But if Rome were carried by storm, then Rome would burn; and I confess that I would rather never enter Rome, than enter to find it in ashes. I will not reproach you with the manner in which you have requited the kindness of Theodoric and the Goths. Have you forgotten the time when you coined your gold with the grateful inscription, 'Roma felix'? Truly you are punished enough; more heavily punished by hunger, pestilence, and the yoke of the Byzantines and that demon Cethegus, than by the severest penalty which we could have inflicted. More than eight thousand people--women and children not included--have perished. Your deserted houses fall into ruins; you greedily pluck the grass which grows in your temples; despair walks your streets with hollow eyes; famished mothers--Roman mothers--have devoured the flesh of their own children. Until this day, your resistance was heroic, although lamentable. But henceforward it is madness. Your last hope was placed in Belisarius. Then hear: Belisarius has sailed from Sicily to Byzantium. He has deserted you." Cethegus ordered the trumpets to be sounded, in order to drown the groans of the multitude. For some time it was all in vain, but at last the brazen tones conquered. When all was quiet the Prefect cried: "It is a lie! Do not believe such barefaced lies!" "Have the Goths, have I, ever lied to you, Romans? But you shall believe your own eyes and ears. Come forward, man, and speak. Do you know him?" A Byzantine in rich armour was led forward by the Gothic horsemen. "Konon!" "The navarchus of Belisarius!" "We know him!" cried the crowd. Cethegus turned pale. "Men of Rome," said the Byzantine, "Belisarius, the magister militum, has sent me to King Totila. I arrived in the camp to-day. Belisarius was obliged to return to Byzantium. On leaving Sicily, he recommended Rome and Italy to the well-known benevolence of King Totila. This was my message to him and to you." "If this be so," cried Cethegus, with a threatening voice, "then now is the day to prove whether you be Romans or bastards! Mark me well! Cethegus the Prefect will never, never surrender his Rome to the barbarians! Oh I think once more of the time when I was your all! When you exalted my name above those of the saints! Who has given you, for years, work, bread, and, what is more, weapons? Who protected you--Belisarius or Cethegus?--when these barbarians encamped by millions before your walls? Who saved Rome, with his heart's blood, from King Witichis? For the last time I call you to the combat! Do you hear me, grandchildren of Camillus? As he once, solely by the might of the Roman sword, swept the Gauls, who had already taken the city, away from the Capitol, so will I sweep away these Goths! Follow me! We will sally forth and let the world see what is possible to Roman valour when led by Cethegus and despair. Choose!" "Aye, choose!" cried Totila, raising himself in his stirrups. "Choose between certain destruction or certain freedom. If you once more follow this madman, I can no longer protect you. Listen to Earl Teja, who stands at my right hand. You know him, I think. I can no longer protect you." "No," cried Teja, raising his mighty axe, "then, by the God of Hate, no more mercy! If you refuse this last offer, not a life will be spared within these walls. I, and a thousand others, have sworn it!" "I offer you complete immunity, and will prove a mild and just king to you. Ask Neapolis what I am! Choose between me and the Prefect!" "Hail to King Totila! Death to the Prefect!" was the unanimous acclamation. And, as if at a signal, the women and children, with uplifted hands, threw themselves on their knees; while all the armed inhabitants raised their weapons threateningly, and many a spear was hurled at the Prefect. They were the very weapons which he himself had given to the people. "They are dogs--no Romans!" exclaimed Cethegus, with disdainful fury, and turned his horse. "To the Capitol!" And his horse, with a sudden leap, cleared the row of kneeling and screaming women. Through a shower of darts which the Romans now sent after him galloped the Prefect, riding down the few who had courage enough to try to stop him. His crimson crest soon disappeared in the distance. His companions galloped swiftly after him. The lance-bearers on foot retreated in good order, now and then turning and levelling their spears. Thus they reached the lofty bulwark which, held by Marcus Licinius, protected the ascent to the Capitol, and the way to the Prefect's house. "What next? Shall we pursue?" the citizens asked the King. "No--stay. Let all the gates be opened. Wagons laden with meat, bread, and wine stand ready in the camp. Let them be brought into all parts of the city. Feed the people of Rome for three whole days. My Goths shall keep watch to prevent excess." "And the Prefect?" asked Duke Guntharis. "Cornelius Cethegus, the ex-Prefect of Rome, will not escape the vengeance of God," cried Totila, turning away. "And not mine!" cried the shepherd-boy. "And not mine!" said Teja, and galloped after the King. CHAPTER X. Most of the quarters of the city of Rome had now fallen into the hands of the enemy. Cethegus was in possession of that part of the city which extended on the right bank of the Tiber from the Mausoleum of Hadrian in the north to the Porta Portuensis in the south, near which were situated the two bolts across the river. On the left bank the Prefect held only the small but dominating quarter west of the Forum Romanum, of which the Capitol formed the centre. This quarter was enclosed by walls and high bulwarks which stretched from the shore of the Tiber at the foot of the Capitoline Hill, and round the hill eastwards, to the Forum of Trajan in the north; while at the back and westwards from the Capitol, they passed between the Circus Flaminius and the Theatre of Marcellus (abandoning the first and enclosing the last), and ended at the Fabrician Bridge and the Island of the Tiber. The King had left the Forum, and the rest of the day was spent by the inhabitants of the city in feasting and rejoicing. The King caused eighty wagons, each drawn by four oxen, to be drawn up in all the principal squares and places of those parts of the city which had surrendered. And round about these wagons, upon the pavement or upon speedily-erected wooden benches, lay the famishing population, raising their voices in thanks to God, the saints, and the "good King." The Prefect had at once closed all the gates which led from those parts of the city occupied by the Goths into _his_ Rome; particularly the approaches from the Forum Romanum to the Capitol, and the Flumentanian, Carmentalian and Ratumenian Gates. He caused them all to be barricaded, and divided the few soldiers he had at his command among the most important points of defence. He held much about the same part of Rome as he had before occupied under and against Belisarius. "Salvius Julianus must have another hundred Isaurians to protect the bolt of masts on the river," he commanded. "The Abasgian bowmen must hasten to join Piso at the bolt of chains. Marcus Licinius will remain on the bulwark of the Forum." But now Lucius Licinius announced that the rest of the legionaries, who had not been present at the scene on the Forum, because they had been on duty in the now barricaded portion of the city, were become very unruly. "Ah," cried Cethegus, "the odour of the roast meat for which their comrades sold their honour, tickles their nostrils! I come." And he rode up to the Capitol, where the legionaries, about five hundred men, were standing in their ranks with a very gloomy and threatening aspect. Looking at them with a searching eye, Cethegus slowly rode along their front. At last he spoke. "For you I had reserved the fame of having defended the Lares and Penates of the Capitol against the barbarians. I hear, indeed, that you prefer the joints of beef below there. But I will not believe it. You will not desert the man who, after centuries of helplessness, has again taught the Romans how to fight and conquer. Whoever will stand by Cethegus and the Capitol--let him raise his sword." But not a blade was seen. "Hunger is a more powerful god than the Capitoline Jupiter," said Cethegus contemptuously. A centurion stepped forward. "It is not that, Prefect of Rome. But we will not fight against our fathers and brothers who are on the side of the Goths." "I ought to keep you as hostages for your fathers and brothers, and when they storm the bulwarks, throw to them your heads! But I fear it would not stop them in their enthusiasm, which comes from their stomachs! Go--you are not worthy to save Rome! Open the gate, Licinius. Let them turn their backs upon the Capitol and honour!" And the legionaries marched away, all but about a hundred men, who stood still irresolutely, leaning on their spears. "Well, what do you want?" cried Cethegus, riding up to them. "To die with you, Prefect of Rome!" cried one of them. And the others repeated: "To die with you!" "I thank you! Do you see, Licinius, a hundred Romans! Are they not enough to found a new Roman Empire?--I will give you the post of honour; you shall defend the bulwark to which I have given the name of Julius Cæsar." He sprang from his horse, threw the bridle to Syphax, called his tribunes together, and spoke: "Now listen to my plan." "You have a plan already?" "Yes. We will attack! If I know these barbarians, we are safe for to-night from any assault. They have won three quarters of the city. Before they think of the last quarter, their victory must be celebrated in a hundred thousand tipsy bouts. At midnight the whole company of yellow-haired heroes and drinkers will be immersed in feasting, wine, and sleep; and the hungry Quirites will not be behindhand in excess. Look! How they feast and sing below there--crowned with flowers! And very few barbarians have yet entered the city. That is our hope of victory. At midnight we will sally forth from all our gates--they will not dream of an attack from such a minority--and slay them in their revels." "Your plan is bold," said Lucius Licinius. "And if we fall, the Capitol will be our tombstone!" "You learn from me words as well as sword-strokes," said Cethegus, smiling. "My plan is desperate, but it is the only one now possible. Is the watch set? I will go home and sleep for a couple of hours. No one must rouse me before that time. In two hours come and wake me." "You can sleep at such a moment, general?" "Yes; I _must_. And I hope I shall sleep soundly. I must have time to collect myself--I have just yielded the Forum Romanum to the barbarian King! It was too much! I need time to recover myself. Syphax, I asked yesterday if no more wine was to be had on the right bank of the Tiber?" "I have been to seek some. There is yet a little in the temple of your God; but the priests say that it is dedicated to the service of the altar." "That will not have spoiled it! Go, Lucius, and take it from the priests. Divide it amongst the hundred men on the bulwark of Cæsar. It is the only thing that I can give them to show my gratitude." Followed by Syphax, Cethegus now rode slowly home. He stopped at the principal entrance to his house. In answer to the call of Syphax, Thrax, a groom, opened the gate. Cethegus dismounted and stroked the neck of his noble charger. "Our next ride will be a sharp one, my Pluto--to victory or in flight! Thrax, give him the white bread which was reserved for me." The horse was led into the stables near at hand. The stalls were empty. Pluto shared the spacious building only with the brown horse belonging to Syphax. All the Prefect's other horses had been slaughtered and devoured by the mercenaries. The master of the house passed through the splendid vestibule and atrium into the library. The old ostiarius and secretary, the slave Fidus, who was past carrying a spear, the only domestic in the house. All the slaves and freedmen were upon the walls--either living or dead. "Reach me the roll of Plutarch's Cæsar, and the large goblet set with amethysts--it scarcely needed their decoration--full of spring water." The Prefect stayed in the library for some time. The old servant had lighted the lamp, filled with costly oil of spikenard, as he had been accustomed to do in times of peace. Cethegus cast a long look at the numerous busts, Hermes, and statues, which cast sharp shadows along the exquisite mosaic pavement. There, upon pedestals or brackets, on which were inscribed their names, stood small marble busts of almost all the heroes of Rome, from the mythic Kings to the long rows of Consuls and Cæsars, ended by Trajan, Hadrian, and Constantine. The ancestors of the "Cethegi" formed a numerous group. An empty niche already contained the pedestal upon which his bust would one day stand--the last on that side of the room, for he was the last of his house. But on another side there was a whole row of arches and empty niches, destined for future scions of the family, not by marriage, but by adoption, should the name of Cethegus be continued into more fortunate generations. As Cethegus walked slowly past the rows of busts, he chanced to look at the niche destined to contain his own, and, to his astonishment, saw that it was not empty. "What is that?" he asked. "Lift up the lamp, secretary. Whose is that bust standing in my place?" "Forgive, master! The pedestal of that bust, one of the ancients, needed reparation. I was obliged to remove it, and I placed it in the empty niche to keep it from harm." "Show a light. Still higher. Who can it be?" And Cethegus read the short inscription upon the bust: "Tarquinius Superbus, tyrant of Rome, died in exile; banished from the city by the inhabitants on account of his monstrous despotism. A warning to future generations." Cethegus, in his youth, had himself composed this inscription. He took the bust away, and placed it on one side. "Away with the omen!" he cried. Lost in thought, he entered his study. He leaned his helm, shield, and sword against the couch. The slave kindled the lamp which stood on the tortoise-shell table, brought the goblet and the roll of papyrus, and left the room. Cethegus took up the roll. But he soon laid it down again. His forced composure could not last; it was too unnatural. In the Roman Forum the Quirites drank with the barbarians to the health of the King of the Goths and the ruin of the Prefect of Rome, the Princeps Senatus! In two hours he was about to attempt to wrest the city from the Goths. He could not fill up the short pause with the perusal of a biography which he almost knew by heart. He drank thirstily of the water in the goblet. Then he threw himself upon his couch. "Was it an omen?" he asked himself. "But there are no omens for those who do not believe in them. 'This is the only omen: to fight for the fatherland,' says Homer. Truly, I fight not alone for my native land; I fight still more for myself. But have not to-day's events disgracefully proved that Rome is Cethegus, and Cethegus is Rome? These name-forgetting Romans do not make Rome. The Rome of to-day is far more Cethegus than the Rome of old was Cæsar. Was not he, too, a tyrant in the eyes of fools?" He rose uneasily, and went up to the colossal statue of his great ancestor. "God-like Julius! If I could pray, I would pray now to thee! Help me! Complete the work of thy grandchild. How hard have I striven since the day when the idea of the renewal of thy empire was born within my brain--born full-armed, like Pallas Athene from the head of Jupiter! How have I fought, mentally and physically, by day and by night! And though thrown to the ground seven times by the superior force of two peoples, seven times have I again struggled to my feet, unconquered and unintimidated! A year ago my goal seemed near--so near; and now, this very night, I must fight this fair youth for Rome and for my life! Can it be that I must succumb after such deeds and such exertions? Succumb to the good fortune of a youth! Is it, then, impossible for thy descendant to stand alone for his nation, until he renew both it and himself? Is it impossible to conquer the barbarians and the Greeks? Can not I, Cethegus, stop the wheel of Fate and roll it backward? Must I fail because I stand alone--a general without an army, a king without a nation to support him? Must I yield thy and my Rome? I cannot, will not think so! Did not thy star fade shortly before Pharsalus? and didst thou not swim over the Nile to save thy life, bleeding from a hundred wounds? And yet thou hast succeeded. Again thou hast entered Rome in triumph. It will not go more hardly with thy descendant. No; I will not lose my Rome! I will not lose my house, and this thy God-like image, which has often, like the crucifix of the Christian, filled me with hope and comfort. As a pledge of my success, to thee I will entrust a treasure. Where can anything on earth be safe if not with thee? In an hour of despondency, I was about to give this treasure to Syphax to bury in the earth. But if I lose Rome and this house, this sanctuary, I will lose all. Who can decipher these hieroglyphics? As thou hast kept the letters and the diary, so shalt thou keep this treasure also." So saying, he drew from the bosom of his tunic, beneath his shirt of mail, a rather large leather bag, filled with costly pearls and precious stones, and touched a spring on the left side of the statue, below the edge of its shield. A small opening was revealed, out of which he took an oblong casket of beautifully-carved ivory, provided with a golden lock. The casket contained all sorts of writings and rolls of papyrus. He now added the bag. "Here, great ancestor, guard my secrets and my treasure. With whom should they be safe, if not with thee?" He touched the spring again, and the statue looked as perfect as before. "Beneath thy shield, upon thy heart! As a pledge that I trust in thee and my good fortune as thy descendant! As a pledge that nothing shall force me away from thee and Rome--at least for any length of time. If I _must_ go--I will return again. And who will seek my secret in the marble Cæsar?" If the water in the amethyst cup had been the strongest wine, it could not have had a more intoxicating effect than this soliloquy or dialogue with the colossal statue which Cethegus worshipped like a god. The unnatural strain upon all his mental and physical powers during the last few weeks; the unsuccessful attempt to persuade the people on the Forum; the conception of a new and desperate plan as soon as he had been defeated in the first, and the consuming anxiety with which he awaited its execution, had excited and exhausted the iron nerves of the Prefect to the utmost. He thought, spoke, and acted as if in a high fever. Tired out, he threw himself upon his couch at the foot of the statue; and suddenly sleep overcame him. But it was not the sound sleep which, until now, he had been able to command at will, even after some criminal act or before a dangerous enterprise: the result of a strong constitution which was superior to all excitement. For the first time his slumber was uneasy, disturbed by changeful dreams, which, like the fancies of a delirious man, chased each other through his brain. At last the visions of the dreamer took a more concrete form. He saw the statue at the feet of which he lay, grow and grow. The majestic head rose higher and higher, and passed through the roof of the house. With its crown of laurel it at last penetrated the clouds, and towered into the starry heavens. "Take me with thee!" sighed Cethegus. But the demigod replied: "I can scarcely see thee from this height. Thou art too small! Thou canst not follow me." And it seemed to Cethegus that a thunderbolt fell and shattered the roof of his house. With a crash the beams fell upon him, burying him under the ruins. The statue of Cæsar also broke and fell. And crash after crash echoed through the place. Cethegus woke, sprang up, and looked around in bewilderment. CHAPTER XI. The sound continued. It was real--no dream! Blow after blow fell thundering against the door of his house. Cethegus caught up his helm and sword. At that moment Syphax and Lucius rushed into the room. "Up, general!" "Up, Cethegus!" "Two hours cannot yet have passed. Why have you awakened me?" "The Goths! They have been beforehand with us! They storm the bulwarks!" "Damn them! Where do they storm?" Cethegus had already reached the door of the room. "Where does the King attack?" "At the bolts on the river. He has sent fire-ships up the stream. Floats with heavy towers on deck, full of resin, pitch, and sulphur. The first bolt of masts and all the boats between are in flames! Salvius Julianus is wounded and taken prisoner. There! you can see the reflection of the flames in the south-east!" "The bolt of chains--does it hold?" "It holds still. But if it break--" "Then I, as once before, am the bolt of Rome! Forward!" Syphax led up the snorting horses. Cethegus swung himself into the saddle. "Away! Where is your brother Marcus?" "At the bulwark by the Forum." As Cethegus and Lucius were galloping off, they were met by a mass of mercenaries, Isaurians and Abasgians, who fled from the river. "Fly!" they cried. "Save the Prefect!" "Where is Cethegus?" "Here--to save you! Turn back. To the river!" He galloped on. The reflection of the burning masts plainly showed the way. Arrived at the river bank, Cethegus dismounted. Syphax placed his horse out of harm's way in an empty storehouse. "Torches!" cried Cethegus. "Into the boats! There lie a dozen ready. Bowmen, into the boats! Follow me! Lucius, go into the second boat. Row up to the chain. Place yourselves close to it. Whatever comes up the river--shoot! They cannot land below the bolt, the walls are too high and descend straight into the water. They _must_ come up here to the chain!" Already a few boats, filled with Goths, had ventured too near. Some caught fire at the burning masts; others were upset in the crush and confusion. One, which had approached within half an arrow's length of the chain, drove helplessly down the stream again: all the crew had been killed by the arrows of the Abasgians. "Do you see! There goes a boat of corpses! Resist to the last man. Nothing is lost! Bring torches and firebrands! Kindle the wharf there! Fire against fire!" "Look there, master!" cried Syphax, who never left the Prefect's side. "Aye, now comes the struggle!" It was a splendid sight. The Goths had seen that the bolt of chains could never be forced by small boats, so they had hewn away so much of the burning bolt of masts that a space was left in the middle just broad enough to permit the passage of a ship of war. But to try to pass up the river, exposed to the arrows of the Abasgians, between the flaming ends of the masts, and propelled only by their oars, might be more dangerous for the large vessel than for the "boat of corpses." The Goths hesitated and stopped just before the burning beams. But suddenly there arose a strong breeze from the south, rippling the surface of the water. "Do you feel the wind? It is the breath of the God of Victory! Set the sails! Now follow me, my Goths!" cried a joyful voice. The sails were set, and the wings of the royal galley, the "Wild Swan," spread wide to the breeze. It was a magnificent spectacle as the great vessel, all its canvas spread, and urged by a hundred oarsmen, came majestically up the river, illuminated by the terrible light from the burning masts and boats. With irresistible force the noble galley sailed up the stream. On both sides of the upper deck, high above the heads of the oarsmen on the lower deck, kneeled close rows of Gothic warriors, their shields forming a brazen roof to protect them from the arrows of the foe. Upon the bows of the ship an immense figure of a swan lifted high its snowy wings. Between these wings, upon the back of the swan, stood King Totila, his sword in his right hand. "Forward!" he cried. "Pull, my men, with all your might! Be ready, Goths!" Cethegus recognised the youth's tall figure. He even recognised the voice. "Let the galley approach quite close. When within twenty feet, shoot! Not yet!--Now! now shoot!" "Crouch close, Goths!" cried Totila. A hail of arrows fell over the galley. But they rebounded from a roof of shields. "Damn them!" cried Piso, behind the Prefect. "They intend to break the chain with the force of the shock. And they will surely do it, even if every man on deck should fall! The oarsmen we cannot reach, and the south wind cannot be wounded!" "Fire the sails! fire the ship! Bring firebrands!" cried Cethegus. Ever nearer rustled the threatening "Swan." Ever nearer approached the ruinous shock against the tightly-stretched chains. Firebrands were hurled at the galley. One flew into the sail of the main-mast, burnt quickly up, and then died out. A second--Cethegus himself had hurled it--passed close to the golden locks of the King. It fell near him. He had not remarked it; but a shepherd-boy, who carried no weapon but a shepherd's staff, ran up and trampled it out. The other brands rebounded from the shields and fell hissing into the river. And now the prow of the galley was only eight feet from the chain. The Romans trembled in expectation of the shock. Cethegus stepped to the bow of his boat, balancing and aiming his heavy spear. "Mark!" he said; "as soon as the King falls, be quick with more firebrands." Never had the practised soldier aimed better. Drawing back his spear once more, he launched it at the King with all the force lent to his arm by hatred. His followers waited breathlessly. But the King did not fall. He had caught sight of Cethegus while aiming; at the same moment he threw down his long and narrow shield and awaited the flying shaft with his left arm drawn back. Whistling came the spear straight at the spot where the King's bare neck showed above his breastplate. When within a few inches of his throat, the King caught the shaft with his left hand and immediately hurled it back at the Prefect, wounding him on the left arm just above his shield. Cethegus fell on his knee. At the same instant the galley struck the chain. It burst. The Roman boats which lay near, including that of Cethegus, were upset; and most of them drove masterless down the river. "Victory!" shouted Totila. "Yield, mercenaries!" Cethegus, bleeding, swam to the left bank of the river. He saw how the Gothic galley lowered two boats, into one of which sprang the King. He saw how a whole flotilla of large vessels, which had sailed up in the wake of the King's galley, now broke through the boats of his bowmen, and landed troops on both sides of the river. He saw how his Abasgians--neither armed nor in the mood for a hand-to-hand fight--surrendered themselves by companies to the Goths. He saw how a rain of arrows from the royal galley fell upon the defenders on the left bank. He saw how the little boat, in which stood the King, now approached the place where he himself stood, dripping with water. He had lost his helmet in the river, his shield he had thrown away, in order the more speedily to gain the land. He was on the point of attacking the King, who had just landed, with his sword alone, when a Gothic arrow grazed his neck. "Well hit, Haduswinth?" cried a young voice; "better than at the Mausoleum!" "Bravo, Gunthamund!" Cethegus tottered. Syphax caught his arm. At the same moment a hand was laid on his shoulder. He recognised Marcus Licinius. "You here! Where are your men?" "Dead!" said Marcus. "The hundred Romans fell on the bulwark. Teja, the terrible Teja, stormed it. The half of your Isaurians fell on the way to the Capitol. The rest still keep the doors, and the half-bulwark in front of your house. I can no more. Teja's axe penetrated through my shield and entered my ribs. Farewell, O great Cethegus! Save the Capitol. But--look there! Teja is quick!" And he fell to the ground. From the Capitoline Hill flames rose high into the night. "There is nothing more to be done here," the Prefect said with difficulty, for he was losing blood fast and becoming rapidly weak. "I will save the Capitol! To you, Piso, I leave the barbarian King. Once before you have wounded a Gothic King upon the threshold of Rome. Now wound a second, but this time mortally! You, Lucius, will revenge your brother. Do not follow me!" As he spoke he cast one more furious glance at the King, at whose feet kneeled his Abasgians, and sighed deeply. "You tremble, master!" said Syphax sadly. "_Rome_ trembles!" cried Cethegus. "To the Capitol!" Lucius Licinius pressed the hand of his dying brother. "I shall follow him notwithstanding," he said, "for he is wounded." While Cethegus, Syphax, and Lucius Licinius disappeared in the distance, Piso crouched behind the columns of a Basilica close to which the street led upwards from the river. Meanwhile the King had placed the Abasgians under the guard of his soldiers. He went a few steps up the bank of the river and pointed with his sword to the flames which arose from the Capitol. Then he turned to the Goths who were landing. "Forward!" he cried. "Make haste! The flames up there must be extinguished. The fight is over. Now, Goths, protect and preserve Rome, for it is yours!" Piso took advantage of the moment. "Apollo!" he exclaimed; "if ever my satires hit their mark, help now my sword!" And he sprang from behind the column towards the King, who stood with his back turned to him. But before he could deal a blow, he let his sword fell with a loud cry. A sturdy stroke from a stick had lamed his hand. Immediately a young shepherd sprang upon him and pulled him to the ground, kneeling on his breast. "Yield, thou Roman wolf!" cried a clear boyish voice. "Ah! Piso.... the poet He is thy prisoner, boy," said the King, who now turned. "He shall ransom himself with a goodly sum. But who art thou, young shepherd?" "He is the saviour of your life, sire," interposed old Haduswinth. "We saw the Roman rush at you, but we were too far off to call or help you. We owe your life to this boy." "What is thy name, young hero?" "Adalgoth." "And what wouldst thou here?" "Cethegus, the traitor, the Prefect of Rome! where is he, King? Pray tell me. I was sent to the boats. I heard that he would oppose thy attack here." "He was here. He has fled; most likely to his house." "Wouldst thou overcome that King of Hell with this stick?" asked Haduswinth. "No," cried the boy; "I have now a sword." And he took up his prisoner's sword, which was lying on the ground; brandished it over his head and rushed away. Totila gave Piso in charge to the Goths, who had now landed in great numbers. "Hasten!" he cried again. "Save the Capitol, which the Romans are destroying!" CHAPTER XII. Meanwhile the Prefect had left the river and gone in the direction of the Capitol. He passed the Porta Trigemina and arrived at the Forum Boarium. Before the Temple of Janus he met with a crowd of people by which he was detained for a short time. In spite of his wound he had made such haste that Lucius and Syphax could scarcely follow. They had repeatedly lost sight of him. Only now did they overtake him. He now tried to go through the Porta Carmentalis, and thus gain the back of the Capitol. But he found the gate already occupied by numerous Goths. Amongst them was Wachis. He recognised the Prefect from a distance. "Revenge for Rauthgundis!" he cried. A heavy stone struck the Prefect's helmless head. He turned and fled. He now remembered that there was a sinking of the wall not far from the gate. He determined to climb it at that place. As he neared it, the flames from the Capitol again shot high into the air. Three men sprang over the wall just in front of him. They were Isaurians. They recognised him. "Fly, general! The Capitol is lost! Teja, the black Gothic devil!" "Did he--did Teja kindle the fire?" "No; we ourselves set a wooden bulwark, which the barbarians had taken, on fire. The Goths do all they can to extinguish the flames." "The barbarians save the Capitol!" said Cethegus bitterly, and supported himself upon a spear which was handed to him by one of the mercenaries. "I must get to my house." And he turned to the right, the shortest way to the principal entrance to his house. "O master, that way is dangerous!" cried one of the Isaurians. "The Goths will soon be there. I heard the Black Earl ask repeatedly after you. He was seeking you everywhere upon the Capitol. He will now seek you in your house." "I _must_ once more go to my house!" But he had scarcely gone a few steps, when a troop of Goths and Romans, carrying torches and firebrands, came towards him from the city. The foremost, who were Romans, recognised him. "The Prefect!" "The destroyer of Rome!" "He has set the Capitol on fire! Down with him!" Arrows, stones, and spears were hurled at Cethegus. One of his Isaurians fell; the others took to their heels. Cethegus was hit by an arrow; it penetrated slightly into his left shoulder. He tore it out. "A Roman arrow, with my own stamp!" he cried with a terrible laugh. With difficulty he gained a dark side-street. Before his House there was a crowd of soldiers, trying in vain to break open the principal door. Cethegus heard the uproar, and well understood the cries of rage with which the soldiers accompanied their ineffectual exertions. "The door is strong," he said to himself. "Before they force an entrance, I shall be again out of the house." He hurried to the back of the house. He pressed a secret spring which opened the door of the court, entered, and, leaving the door open behind him, hurried in. Hark! a stroke--very different from all which had gone before--thundered against the front door of the house. "That is a battle-axe!" thought Cethegus. "That is Teja?" He hastened to a small gap in the wall, which afforded an outlook into the main street. It was Teja. His long black locks waved about his bare head; in his left hand he carried a firebrand; in his right the dreaded battle-axe. He was covered with blood. "Cethegus!" he shouted at every stroke of his axe. "Cornelius Cethegus Cæsarius, where art thou? I sought thee in the Capitol, Prefect of Rome! Where art thou? Must I seek thee upon thy hearth?" Cethegus, listening, heard hasty steps behind him. Syphax had reached the court, and had followed his master through the open door. He now caught sight of him. "O master, fly! I will protect thy threshold with my body." And he hastened past Cethegus, through a suite of apartments to the front door. Cethegus turned to the right. He could hardly keep himself upright. He managed to reach the "Hall of Jupiter." Here he sank to the ground. But the next moment he again sprang to his feet, for a fearful noise was heard from the front door. At last it was broken in. With a thundering crash it fell inwards, and Teja entered the dwelling of his enemy. Upon the threshold, with a leap like that of a panther, the Moor sprang upon him, grasping his throat and raising a dagger in his hand. But the Goth let fall his axe, seized him in his right hand, and, like a stone from a sling, the Moor flew sideways through the door and rolled down the steps into the street. "Where art thou, Cethegus?" again sounded the voice of Teja, coming nearer and nearer, from the vestibule and the atrium. Some doors, which had been bolted by the secretary, Fidus, were forced one after the other by Teja's axe. With difficulty Cethegus dragged himself to the middle of the Hall of Jupiter. He still hoped to be able to reach the study and take the writings and treasure out of the statue of Cæsar. He heard the crash of another falling door, and the voice of Teja now sounded from the study. He heard how the soldiers, who had pressed forward after Teja into the library, were demolishing the statues and busts of his ancestors. "Where is thy master, old man?" asked Teja's voice. The slave had taken refuge in the study. "I know not, by my soul!" "Not even here! Cethegus! coward! Where hidest thou?" It was now evident that the soldiers had also entered the study. Cethegus could no longer stand upright. He leaned against the marble statue of Jupiter, from which the hall took its name. "What shall be done with this house?" he heard some one ask. "It shall be burned!" cried Teja. "The King has forbidden that," answered the voice of Thorismuth. "Yes; but I have begged this house from the King. It shall be razed to the ground! Down with the temple of that devil! Down with the holiest of holies--this idol!" A fearful blow resounded. With a crash the Cæsar statue fell in fragments to the ground. Gold, jewels, and rolls of papyrus covered the floor. "Ah! the barbarian!" cried Cethegus, forgetting himself, and he was about to rush into the study with his drawn sword, when he fell senseless at the foot of the statue of Jupiter. "Hark! What was that?" cried a boyish voice. "The voice of the Prefect!" exclaimed Teja, and opening the door which led from the study into the hall, he sprang forward, swinging his battle-axe. But the hall was empty. A pool of blood lay at the feet of the Jupiter, and a broad track of the crimson fluid led to the window which opened into the inner court. The court was empty. But some Goths who entered it found the little door closed from outside; the key was still in the lock on the side of the street. When they had forced this door--some of them had also gone round from the front of the house--and had searched the side-street and the dwellings in it, they only found the Prefect's sword, which was recognised by Fidus, the secretary. With a gloomy look Teja took it up, and returned into the study. "Take up carefully all that was concealed in the Prefect's idol, particularly the writings, and carry everything to the King. Where is the King?" "When he left the Capitol, he, with all the Romans and Goths, went into the sanctuary of St. Peter, to attend a service of thanksgiving." "'Tis well. Go to him in the church and give him everything. Also the sword of the fugitive. Tell him that Teja sends it." "Thy order shall be obeyed," said Thorismuth. "But thou--wilt thou not go with us to the church?" "No." "Where wilt thou spend this night of victory, when all the others are giving thanks?" "I will spend it in the ruins of this house!" And he thrust the firebrand into the purple cushions of the Prefect's couch. BOOK V.--_Continued_. TOTILA. "Happy are we that this sunny youth still lives!"--_Margrave Ruediger of Bechelaren_, Act i., Scene i. PART II. CHAPTER I. Thenceforth King Totila held his court in Rome with much splendour and rejoicing. The heaviest task of all the war seemed to be completed. After the fall of Rome, most of the small forts on the coast and in the Apennines opened their gates; very few remained to be taken by siege. For this purpose the King sent forth his generals, Teja, Guntharis, Grippa, Markja, and Aligern; while he himself undertook the difficult political task of reducing to order the kingdom so long disturbed by war or rebellion. He had, indeed, almost to refound it. He sent his dukes and earls into the towns and districts to carry out his intentions in all departments of the state; particularly to protect the Italians from the vengeance of the victorious Goths. He had published from the Capitol a general amnesty; excluding only one person: the ex-Prefect, Cornelius Cethegus Cæsarius. Everywhere he caused the destroyed churches, both Catholic and Arian, to be restored; everywhere the landed property was settled, the taxes newly-laid and diminished. The beneficial results of all this care were not long in making themselves felt. Even when Totila had first assumed the crown and issued his manifesto, had the Italians resumed the long-neglected cultivation of the land. The Gothic soldiers were directed to refrain from disturbing this important work, and to do all in their power to prevent any such disturbance on the part of the Byzantines. And a wonderful fertility of the soil, a harvest of grain, wine, and oil, such as had not been seen for ages, seemed to prove that the blessing of Heaven had fallen upon the young King. The news of the taking of Neapolis and Rome spread rapidly through the Eastern Empire, where it was received with great astonishment, for all there had long since considered the Gothic kingdom to be extinct. Merchants who had been tempted by the strong and just government, the security of the high-roads and of the sea--which were severally protected by patrols of soldiers and watchful squadrons of Gothic ships--to revisit the deserted towns and harbours of the peninsula, praised the justice and benevolence of the royal youth, and told of the flourishing state of his kingdom, and of the brilliancy of his court at Rome, where he gathered about him the senators who had repented of their rebellion, and gave to the populace liberal alms and splendid games in the Circus. The Kings of the Franks acknowledged this change of circumstances. They sent presents--Totila rejected them; they sent ambassadors--Totila would not receive them. The King of the Ostrogoths frankly offered an alliance against Byzantium and the hand of his daughter. The Avarian and Slavonian marauders on the eastern frontier were punished. With the exception of the few fortresses which were still in a state of siege--Ravenna, Perusium, and a few small castles--the whole country enjoyed as perfect peace as in Theodoric's most glorious days. At the same time, the King was wise enough to be moderate. He acknowledged, in spite of his victories, the danger-fraught superiority of the East, and earnestly sought to make peace with the Emperor. He resolved to send an embassy to Byzantium, to offer peace on the basis of a full acknowledgment of the Gothic rule in Italy. He would renounce all claim to Sicily--where not a Goth was now dwelling (the Gothic settlements on that island had never been very numerous); he would also resign those parts of Dalmatia now occupied by the Byzantines. On his side the Emperor should immediately evacuate Ravenna, which no perseverance or stratagem on the part of the Gothic besiegers had been able to reduce. As the person most qualified to undertake this mission of peace and reconciliation, the King thought of a man who was distinguished by worth and dignity, by his love for Italy and the Goths, and who was renowned, even in the East, for his wisdom--the venerable Cassiodorus. Although the pious old man had withdrawn from all affairs of state for many years, the young King succeeded in persuading him to leave the peaceful quiet of his lonely cloister, and brave the troubles and dangers of a journey to Byzantium in order to perform this noble and pious work. But it was impossible to lay upon the old man the whole burden of such an embassy, and the King now sought for a younger and stronger man to accompany him. A man of similar benevolent and Christian feeling--a second apostle of peace. A few weeks after the conquest of Rome, a royal messenger carried the following letter over the Cottian Alps into Provence: "To Julius Manilius Montanus, Totila, who is called the King of the Goths. "Come, my beloved friend, return to my heart! Years have passed; much blood has been shed, and many tears have fallen. More than once, terribly or fortunately, has everything changed around me since I pressed your hand for the last time. Everything around me has changed, but I remain the same. All is as it was between you and me. I still revere the idols at whose shrines we worshipped together in the first dreams of our youth, but growing experience has ennobled these idols. When sin, treachery, and all dark powers raged upon Italian soil, you abandoned it. See, they have disappeared, like moisture in the sun and wind. The conquered demons growl in the distance, and a rainbow stretches its brilliant arch over this my beloved kingdom. When nobler souls unhappily succumbed. Heaven preserved me to see the end of the fearful storm and to sow the seeds of a new time. Come now, my Julius; help me to carry out those dreams at which you so often smiled, thinking them _mere_ dreams. Help me to create a new people of Goths and Italians, which will unite the advantages and exclude the weaknesses of both nations. Help me to found a realm of justice and of peace, of freedom and of beauty, ennobled by Italian grace, and strengthened by Gothic endurance. You, my Julius, have built a cloister for the Church--help me to build a temple for humanity. I am lonely, friend, at the summit of fortune. Lonely my bride awaits the full completion of my vow. The war has robbed me of my devoted brother. Will you not come, my Dioscuros? In two months I shall expect you at Taginæ with Valeria." Julius read; and with emotion said to himself: "My friend, I come!" Before King Totila left Rome for Taginæ, he resolved to pay an old debt of gratitude, and to give a worthy, that is a beautiful, form to an old connection that, until now, had not satisfied the desire for harmony which possessed his soul--his connection with the first hero of his nation, with Teja. They had been friends from their earliest boyhood. Although Teja was several years older, he had always perceived and honoured the depth of the younger man's nature under the brilliant husk of his joyous temperament. And a common inclination to enthusiasm and idealism, besides a certain pride and magnanimity, had drawn them early together. Later, however, their opposite fates had caused their originally very different natures to deviate more and more. The sunny brightness of the one seemed to contrast with the austerity of the other with painful brilliancy. And Totila, after repeated and impetuous attempts to dispel the gloom of his silent friend--the cause of which he did not know, and the nature of which he did not understand--had at last, attributing it to a morbid mind, withdrawn to a distance. The milder, though grave and softer influence of Julius, and his passion for Valeria, gradually estranged Totila from the friend of his boyhood. But the experience of late years, the sufferings and dangers he had endured since the death of Valerius and Miriam, the burning of Neapolis, the distress of Rome, the crimes committed at Ravenna and Castra Nova, and lately the cares and duties of royalty, had so completely matured the impatient and joyous youth, that he was now able to do full justice to his gloomy friend. And what had not this friend accomplished since the night when they had sworn brotherhood! When the others had become paralysed by suffering; when Hildebrand's impatience, Totila's enthusiasm, and the quiet steadfastness of Witichis, even old Hildebrand's icy fortitude, had wavered--Teja had never sighed, but always acted; never hoped, but always dared! At Regeta, before Rome, after the fall of Ravenna, and again before Rome--what had he not accomplished! What did not the kingdom owe to his efforts! And he would receive no thanks. When Witichis had offered him the dignity of a duke, gold, and land, he had rejected the offer as an offence. Lonely, silent, and melancholy, he walked through the streets of Rome, the last shadow in the light of Totila's presence. He stood next to the King's throne, with his black eyes ever lowered to the ground. He stole away without a word from the royal table. He never laid aside his armour or weapons. Only when in action did he sometimes laugh; when, with contempt of death, or the temerity which courts it, he sprang amid the spears of the Byzantines--then only did he seem to feel at ease, then all his being was life, movement, and fire. It was known to all the nation--and Totila specially had known it from his boyhood--that this melancholy hero possessed the gift of song. But since his return from captivity in Greece, no one had ever been able to persuade him to sing one of his glowing and inspiring songs; and yet every one knew that his little triangular harp was his constant companion in war or peace, inseparable as his sword. At the moment of attack he was sometimes heard to sing wild snatches of song to the measure of the Gothic horns. And whoever followed him into the wilderness of white marble and green bushes, among the old Roman ruins, where he was fond of passing his nights, might sometimes hear him play some long-forgotten melody, accompanying it with dreamy words. But if any one--which was seldom the case--ventured to ask what he wanted, he turned silently away. Once, after the taking of Rome, he replied to a similar question put by Guntharis, by the words, "The head of the Prefect!" The only person whose company he affected was Adalgoth, to whom he had lately attached himself. The young shepherd had been raised to the office of herald and cup-bearer to the King, as a reward for his bold act at the storming of the Tiber shore. He had brought with him, though little schooled, a decided gift for song. Teja was pleased with his genius; and it was reported that he secretly taught him his superior art, though they suited each other as little as night and morning. "It is just on that account," said Teja, when his brave cousin Aligern once remarked this to him, "something must be left when the night sinks." The King felt that the only thing that could be offered to this man was in _his_ power to offer--neither gold, nor land, nor dignities. One night King Totila came to where the two bards were sitting. He followed the sounds which, arising at irregular intervals from a grove of cypresses, and interrupted by half-sung, half-spoken words, were borne to his ear by the night wind. Unnoticed and unbetrayed by the soft moonlight, Totila reached the avenue of half-wild laurels and cypresses which led into the centre of the garden. But now Teja heard the approaching footsteps, and laid aside his harp. "It is the King," he said; "I recognise his step. What seekest thou here, my King?" "I seek thee, Teja," answered Totila. Teja sprang from his seat upon a fallen column. "Then we must fight!" he exclaimed. "No," said Totila; "but I deserve this reproach." He took Teja's hand, and affectionately drew him down to his former seat, placing himself at his side. "I did not seek thy sword, Teja; I sought thyself. I need thee; not thine arm, but thy heart. No, Adalgoth; do not go. Thou mayst see--and I wish thee to see--how every one must love this proud man, the 'Black Earl.'" "I knew it," said Adalgoth, "ever since I first saw him. He is like a dark forest, through the branches of whose lofty trees blows a mysterious breach, full of terror and charm." Teja fixed his large and melancholy eyes upon the King. "My friend," began Totila, "the gracious God of Heaven has endowed me richly. I have won back a kingdom which was half-lost; shall I not be able to win back the half-lost heart of a friend? And it was to this friend's efforts that most of my success was owing; he must now help me to regain my friend. What has estranged thee from me? Forgive me if I, or my good fortune, has offended thee. I know to whom I owe my crown; but I cannot wear it with gladness if only thy sword and not thy heart be mine. We were once friends, Teja; oh! let us be so again, for I miss thee sorely!" And he would have embraced Teja, but the latter caught both his hands and pressed them to his heart. "This evening's walk honours thee more than thy victorious march through Italy! The tear which I see glittering in thine eye is worth more than the richest pearl upon thy crown. Forgive thou me; I have been unjust. The gifts of fortune and thy careless joy have not corrupted thy heart. I have never been angered against thee; I have ever loved thee, and it was with sorrow that I saw our paths in life diverge; for, in truth, thou art more congenial to me, nearer than thou ever wert to the brave Witichis, or even to thine own brother." "Yes," said Adalgoth; "you two complete each other like light and shade." "Our natures are, indeed, equally emotional and fiery," said the King. "If Witichis and Hildebad," continued Teja, "went the straight way with a steady pace, we two were borne, by our impatient enthusiasm, as if on wings. And being so congenial, though so different, it pains me that, in thy sunny bliss, thou seemest to think that any one who cannot laugh like thee is a sick fool! Oh, my King and friend! whoever has once experienced certain trials and woes, and conceived certain thoughts, has for ever lost the sweet art of laughter!" Totila, filled with a deep sense of Teja's worth, answered: "Whoever has fulfilled life's noblest duties with a heroism equal to thine, my Teja, may be pitied, but not blamed, if he proudly scorns life's light pleasures." "And thou couldst think that I was envious of thy good fortune or thy cheerful humour? O Totila! it is not with envy, but with deep, deep sadness that I observe thee and thy hopefulness. As a child may excite our sadness who believes that sunshine, spring-time, and life endure for ever; who knows neither night, winter, nor death! Thou trustest that success and happiness will be the reward of the cheerful-hearted; but I for ever hear the flapping of the wings of Fate, who, deaf and merciless to curses, prayers, or thanks, sweeps high above the heads of poor mortals and their futile works." He ceased, and looked out into the darkness, as if he saw the shadow of the coming future. "Yes, yes," said the young cup-bearer, "that reminds me of an old adage which Iffa sang in the mountain, and which means something like that; he had learnt it from Uncle Wargs: "'Good fortune or bad Is not the world's aim; That is but vain folly, Imagined by men. On the earth is fulfilled A Will everlasting. Obedience, defiance-- They serve it alike.' "But," he continued thoughtfully, "if, with all our exertions, we can never alter the inevitable, why do we move our hands at all? Why do we not wait for what shall come in dull inaction? In what lies the difference between hero and coward?" "It does not lie in victory, my Adalgoth, but in the kind of strife or endurance! Not justice, but necessity decides the fate of nations. Often enough has the better man, the nobler race, succumbed to the meaner. 'Tis true that generosity and nobility of mind are in themselves a power. But they are not always able to defy other and ignoble powers. Noble-mindedness, generosity, and heroism can always consecrate and glorify a downfall, but not always prevent it. And the only comfort we have is, that it is not _what_ we endure, but _how_ we endure it, that honours us the most; it is often not the victor, but the conquered hero, who deserves the crown of laurels." The King looked meditatively at the ground, leaning on his sword. "How much thou must have suffered, friend," he then said warmly, "before thou couldst embrace such a dark error! Thou hast lost thy God in heaven! For me, that would be worse than to lose the sun in the sky--I should feel as if blinded. I could not breathe if I could not believe in a just God, who looks down from His heavenly throne upon the deeds of men, and makes the good cause to triumph!" "And King Witichis?" asked Teja; "what evil had he done? that man without spot or blemish! And I myself, and----" He suddenly became silent. "Thy life has been a mystery to me since our early youth----" "Enough for the present," said Teja. "I have this evening revealed more of my inmost heart than in many a long year. The time will surely come when I may unfold to thee my life and my thoughts. I should not like," he continued, turning to Adalgoth, and stroking his shining locks, "to dim too soon the bright harp-strings of the youngest and best singer of our nation." "As thou wilt," said the King, rising. "To me thy sorrow is sacred. But, I pray thee, let us cherish our refound friendship. To-morrow I go to Taginæ, to my bride. Accompany me--that is, if it does not pain thee to see me happy with a Roman woman." "Oh no--it touches me--it reminds me of---- I will go with thee!" CHAPTER II. Soon after this conversation, the King, Earl Teja, Adalgoth, and a numerous suite, arrived at the small town of Taginæ, above which, on a precipitous and thickly-wooded height, stood the cloister founded by Valerius, in which Valeria still continued to reside. For her the place had lost all its terrors. She had become used to it, not only physically but morally. Slowly but surely, her reluctant soul was influenced by the grave authority of the sacred precincts. The King met her in the cloister garden, and it seemed to him that her complexion was much paler, her step slower, than usual. "What ails you, Valeria?" he asked tenderly. "When our vow seemed past fulfilment, you were still full of hope and courage. Now, when your lover wears the crown of this realm, and the foot of the enemy treads the sacred soil of Italia in scarcely more than one city, will you sink and despair?" "Not despair, friend," said Valeria gravely, "but renounce. No, no! be patient and hear me. Why do you hide from me what all Italia knows--what your people wish? The King of the Ostrogoths at Toletum has offered you his alliance against Byzantium, and the hand of his daughter. Your people expect and wish you to accept both these offers. I will not be more selfish than was that high-minded daughter of your nation, Rauthgundis, of whom your minstrels already sing. And I know that you are as capable of sacrifice as the simple-minded man who was your unfortunate King." "I hope that I should be so, if necessary. But happily there is no need of sacrifice. I do not want the help of the Ostrogoth. Look around, or rather, look beyond these convent walls. Never has the kingdom flourished as it does now. Once again I will offer to make peace with the Emperor. If he still refuse, a war will break out such as he has never seen. Ravenna will soon fell. Truly, my power and my courage are not reduced to the point of renunciation! The air of this cloister has at length enervated your steadfast mind. You must leave this place. Choose the most lovely of all Italian cities for your residence. Let us rebuild your father's house in Neapolis." "No. Leave me here. I have learned to love this quiet place." "It is the quiet of the grave! And you know well that to renounce you would be to renounce the ideal of my life. You are the living symbol of all my plans; you are to me Italia herself! You must become mine--wholly, irrevocably mine. Goths and Italians shall take their King and Queen for a pattern; they shall become as united and happy as we. No--no objections--no more doubts! Thus I smother them!" and he passionately embraced her. A few days later Julius Montanus arrived, coming from Genoa and Urbinum. The King and his retinue went to meet him outside the cloister gates. The two friends embraced each other tenderly; for some time they were incapable of speaking. Teja stood near and gravely observed them. "Sir," whispered Adalgoth, "who is the man with the deep-set eyes? a monk?" "In his heart he is; but not outwardly." "Such a young man with such an old look! Dost thou know whom he resembles? That picture in the cloisters on the golden background." "It is true; he is like that gentle and sorrowful head of the Apostle John." "Your letter," Julius said to Totila, "found me already resolved to come here." "You were about to seek me--or Valeria?" "No, Totila. I came to be examined and accepted by Cassiodorus. Benedict of Nursia, who fills our century with the fame of his miracles, has founded an order which powerfully attracts me." "Julius, you must not do that! What spirit of flying from the world has seized upon my companions? Valeria, you, and Teja!" "I fly from nothing," said Julius, "not even from the world." "How," continued the King, taking his friend by the arm, and leading him towards the cloister, "how come you, in the bloom of your manhood, to think of this moral suicide? Look, there comes Valeria. She must help me to convince you. Ah, if you had ever loved, you would not turn your back upon the world." Julius smiled, but made no reply. He quietly clasped Valeria's offered hand, and followed her into the cloister, where Cassiodorus came to meet them. Thanks to the King's eloquence, he was able to induce his friend to promise that he would accompany the aged Cassiodorus to Byzantium in a few days. Julius at first shunned the glitter, the noise, and the wickedness of the Emperor's court, until at last Cassiodorus' example and Totila's persuasions overcame his scruples. "I think," the King said, "that more pious works can be accomplished in the world than in the cloister. _This_ embassy is such a pious work; a work which is to save two nations from the horrors of renewed warfare." "Certainly," said Julius, "a king and a hero can serve God as well as a monk. I do not blame your manner of service--leave mine to me. It seems to me that in the time in which we live, when an ancient world is sinking amid much terror, and a new one arises amid wild storms; when all the vices of a degenerated heathenism are mixed with the wildness of a barbarous race; when luxury, brute force, and the lusts of the flesh fill East and West, I think it is well done to found a sanctuary apart from the world, where poverty, purity, and humble-mindedness can dwell in peace." "But to me," said Totila, "it seems that splendour, the happiness of honest love, and cheerful pride, are no sin before the God of Heaven! What thinkest thou of our dispute, friend Teja?" "It has no meaning for me," answered Teja quietly, "for your God is not my God. But let us not speak of that, for here comes Valeria." CHAPTER III. One evening, the same on which Adalgoth had arrived with the King at Taginal, Gotho, the shepherdess, stood in the sunset light upon the southern declivity of the Iffinger, leaning upon her staff. Round her gambolled and grazed her flock of sheep and lambs, and gradually gathered close round their mistress, eagerly expecting to be led to the sheepfold. But they waited and bleated in vain, for the pretty maiden bent over the mossy stones on the edge of the clear mountain brook. Heaped up in her leather apron lay the lovely scented flowers of the mountain: thyme, wild-rose, mint--which grew on the moist edges of the brook--and the dark blue enzian. Gotho murmured and spoke to herself, to the flowers, and to the running stream, throwing the flowers into the water, sometimes singly, sometimes in little sprays or unfinished wreaths. "How many," said the girl, as she tossed her thick yellow braids over her shoulder, "how many of you have I sent away to greet him! For he has gone to the south, and the water runs there too. But I know not if you give my greeting, for he has never yet come home. But you, as you rise and sink in the dance of the ripples, you beckon me to follow you. Ah! if I could! or follow the little fish which dart down the stream like dark arrows! Or the swift mountain swallows that skim through the air as free as thought! Or the rosy-winged evening clouds, when the mountain wind drives them southwards! But most surely of all would the heart of the seeker herself find him, could she but leave the mountain, and follow him to the distant and sunny land. But what should I do down there? A shepherdess amongst the warriors or the wise court-ladies! And I shall certainly see him again, as surely as I shall again see the sun, although it sinks behind yonder mountains. It is sure to come again, and yet! all the time between its parting ray and its morning greeting is filled with longing!" From the house there suddenly sounded a far-reaching tone, a blast upon the twisted ram's horn. Gotho looked up; it had become darker; she could see the red fire upon the hearth glimmer through the open door. The sheep answered the well-known sound with louder bleatings, stretching their necks in the direction of the house and the stalls. The brown and shaggy sheep-dog sprang upon Gotho, as if to remind her that it was time to go home. "I will go directly," she said, smiling, and stroking the dog's head. "Ah! the sheep are sooner tired of their pasture than the shepherdess of her thoughts! Now, forwards, White Elf, thou art already become a great fat sheep!" She went down the hill towards the little hollow between two mountain summits, where the house and stalls found protection from the wind and the avalanches. There the last rays of the sun dazzled her no more. The stars were already visible. Gotho looked up at the sky. "They are so beautiful, because _he_ has looked at them so often!" A shooting-star fell to the south. "He calls me! Thither!" cried Gotho, slightly trembling. She now drove the sheep more quickly forward, and presently shut them into their cot, and entered the large and only chamber of the ground-floor of the dwelling-house. There she found her grandfather stretched upon the raised stone placed close to the hearth; his feet covered with two large sheep-skins. He looked paler and older than usual. "Seat thyself beside me, Gotho," he said, "and drink; here is milk mixed with honey. Listen to me. The time is come of which I have often spoken. We must part. I am going home. Thy dear face is indistinct; my tired old eyes can no longer distinguish thy features. And yesterday when I tried to go down to the spring, my knees failed me. Then I felt that the end was near, and I sent the goat-herd over to Teriolis with a message. But thou shalt not be present when his soul flies out of old Iffa's mouth. The death of a man is not lovely to behold--especially death upon the straw-bed. And thou hast never yet seen anything sorrowful. This shadow shall not fall upon thy young life. To-morrow, before cockcrow, brave Hunibad will come over from Teriolis to fetch thee--he has promised me to do so. His wounds are not yet healed; he is yet weak; but he says that he cannot remain idle when, as they say, the war will be sure to break out again. He wishes to go to King Totila in Rome. And there too thou must go with an important message. He shall be thy guide and protector. Bind thick soles of beech-rind under thy feet, for the way is long. Brun, the dog, may accompany thee. Take that bag of goat's leather; in it are six gold pieces which belonged to--to Adalgoth's--to your father; they are Adalgoth's--but thou mayst use them--they will last till thou reachest Rome. And take a bundle of scented mountain hay from the meadows of the Iffinger, and lay thy head upon it at night; then thou wilt sleep more soundly. And when thou reachest Rome and the golden palace of the King, and enterest the hall, observe which of the men wears a golden circlet upon his brow, and from whose countenance shines a light like that of the morning--that will be King Totila. Then bow thy head before him--but not too much--and do not bend thy knee; for thou art a free Goth's free child. Thou must give the King this roll, which I have carefully kept for many summers. It comes from Uncle Wargs, who was buried by the mountain." The old man lifted a brick from the masonry which separated the hearth from the floor of stamped clay, and took from a hole a roll of papyrus, which, tied and sealed, was folded in a piece of parchment covered with writing and fastened with strange seals. "Here," he said, "take the greatest care of this writing. That upon the parchment cover I myself dictated to Hermegisel over in Majæ. He swore to keep it secret, and he has kept his oath. And now he can speak no more from out of his grave in the church. And thou and Hunibad--you cannot read. That is a good thing, for it might be dangerous for thee and--and another--if any one knew what that roll contains before Totila, the mild and just King, has read it. Above all, hide it carefully from the Italians. And in every town to which thou comest, ask if there dwells Cornelius Cethegus Cæsarius, the Prefect of Rome. And if the door-keepers say aye, then turn upon thy heel, however tired thou mayst be, and however late the night, or hot the day, and wander on until thou hast put three several waters between thee and the man Cethegus. And no less carefully than the writing--thou seest that I have put rosin, such as drops from the fir-trees, upon it instead of wax, and I have scratched our house-mark upon the seal, the mark that our cattle and wagons bear--not less carefully keep this old and costly gold." And he took from the hole the half of a broad gold bracelet, such as the Gothic heroes wore upon their naked arms. He kissed the bracelet and the imperfect Runic inscription upon it reverently. "This came from Theodoric, the great King, and from him--my dear--son Wargs. Mark--it belongs to Adalgoth. It is his most valuable inheritance. The other half of the bracelet--and the half of the inscription--I gave to the boy when I sent him away. When King Totila has read the writing, and if Adalgoth is present--as he must be if he obeys my orders--then call Adalgoth and put half-ring to half-ring, and ask the King to pronounce a judgment. He is said to be mild and wise and clear as the light of day. He will judge righteously. If not he, then no one. Now kiss my darkening eyes, and go and sleep. May the Lord of heaven and all his clear eyes, sun, moon, and stars, shine upon all thy ways. When thou hast found Adalgoth, and when thou dwellest with him in the little rooms of the close houses in the narrow streets of the city, and when it feels too small and close and narrow down there--then both of you think of your childish days up here upon the high Iffinger, and once again the fresh mountain air will seem to blow across your heated brows." Silently, without objection, without fear, without a question, the shepherd-girl listened and obeyed. "Farewell, grandfather!" she said, kissing him upon his eyes; "I thank thee for much love and faithfulness." But she did not weep. She knew not what death was. She went away from him to the threshold of the door, and looked out at the mountain landscape, which now appeared dark and melancholy. The sky was clear, the summits of the mountains shone in the moonlight. "Farewell!" said Gotho; "farewell, thou Iffinger! and thou, Wolf's-head! and thou, old Giant! and thou, running below, bright-shining Passara! Do you know it already? To-morrow I leave you all. But I go willingly, for I go to _him_!" CHAPTER IV. After the lapse of many weeks, Cassiodorus and Julius returned from Byzantium, bringing--no peace. On landing, Cassiodorus, weary of the world and its ways, retired at once to Brundusium, to his Apulian cloister, leaving Julius to report their ill-success to the King in Rome. Totila received his friend in the Capitol, in the presence of the leaders of the army. "At first," related Julius, "our prospects were sufficiently favourable. The Emperor, who had formerly refused to receive the ambassadors of Witichis, could not shut his palace doors in the face of the most learned man of the West, the pious and wise Cassiodorus. We were received with kindness and respect. In the council held by the Emperor, men of distinction, such as Tribonianus and Procopius, raised their voices in favour of peace. The Emperor himself seemed inclined thereto. His two great generals, Narses and Belisarius, were fighting, at different points of the south-eastern frontier of the Empire, against Persians and Saracens; and the campaign in Italy and Dalmatia had demanded such great sacrifices, and had lasted so long, that war with the Goths had become hateful to the Emperor. It was indeed not likely that he would entirely renounce the hope of reconquering Italy, but he saw the impossibility of doing so at present. He therefore willingly entered into negotiations of peace, and accepted our proposals for further consideration. His first thought was, as he told us, to bring about a provisional division of the peninsula; the far larger portion of the country, to the south of the Padus, to belong to the Emperor, the northern half to the Goths. One day at noon, we had left the Emperor's presence with great hopes; the audience had turned out more favourably than all former ones. But in the evening of the same day we were surprised by the arrival of the Curo-palata Marcellus, accompanied by slaves carrying the gifts which it is customary to present to parting guests--a not-to-be-mistaken sign that all negotiations were broken off. Confounded at this sudden change, Cassiodorus decided, for the sake of his work of peace, to dare the utmost--namely, to seek an audience of the Emperor after the presentation of the parting gifts. Tribonianus, who had always opposed the war, and who highly esteemed Cassiodorus, allowed himself to be prevailed upon to sue for this extraordinary grace. The answer came in a very ungracious threat of banishment should he ever again venture to petition for anything against the clearly-expressed will of the Emperor, Never, never would the Emperor conclude peace with the barbarians, until they had entirely evacuated the kingdom. Never would he look upon the Goths in Italy as anything but enemies. In vain we tried," Julius continued, "to discover the cause of this sudden change. We only learned that, after our last audience, the Empress, who is said to be often suffering, had invited her husband to dinner in her apartments. But it is certain that the Empress, formerly known to be the most zealous advocate of war, has lately given her voice in favour of peace." "And what," asked the King, who had listened quietly, and with an expression of countenance more threatening than anxious--"what has procured me the honour of such a change of sentiment in the circus-girl?" "It is whispered that, becoming more and more anxious for the salvation of her soul, the Empress desires to use all pecuniary means--not for a war, the end of which she scarcely expects to outlive--but upon the erection of churches, and especially for the completion of the church of St. Sophia. It is said that she wishes to be buried with the plan of this church imprinted upon her bosom." "No doubt as a shield against the anger of the Almighty, at the resurrection of the dead! The woman thinks to disarm her God with her hundred churches, and to bribe Him with the sums expended. What madness this belief engenders!" murmured Teja. "We could discover nothing," repeated Julius; "for I cannot think the shadow of suspicion which crossed my mind, perhaps the shadow of a mistake, of any moment." "What was that?" inquired Totila. "That evening, as I left the palace at a late hour, thinking over Tribonianus's unfavourable report, the golden litter of the Empress was carried past me by her Cappadocian slaves from the quadrangle of the garden where stands the Empress's palace. The trellised shutter was lifted a little by the inmate of the litter--I looked up--and it seemed to me as if I recognised----" "Well?" asked the King. "My unhappy protector, the vanished Cethegus," concluded Julius sadly. "That can scarcely be," said the King. "He fell when Rome was taken. It was surely a mistake when Teja thought he heard his voice in his house." "_I_ mistake that voice!" cried Teja. "And what meant his sword, which Adalgoth found at the corner of the street?" "He may have lost it earlier, when he hurried to the Tiber from his house. I distinctly saw him conduct the defence of the chain from his boat. He hurled his spear at me with all the force and steadiness lent by intense hatred. And I struck him, I am sure, when I cast the spear back again. And Gunthamund, that excellent shot, told me that he was certain that he wounded the Prefect in the neck. His mantle with the purple hem was found by the river, pierced by many arrows and covered with blood." "No doubt he died there," Julius said, very gravely. "Are you such good Christians, and do not know that demons are immortal?" asked Teja. "They may be," said the King, "but so are angels!" and, with a frown on his brow, he continued: "Up, my brave Teja! now there is new work for thy sword. Hear it, Duke Guntharis, Wisand, Grippa, Markja, Thorismuth, and Aligern--I shall soon have enough to do for you all. You have heard that Emperor Justinian refuses to make peace, and will not leave us in quiet possession of Italy. It is evident that he considers us inclined to peace at any cost. He thinks it can never hurt him to have us for enemies; that in the worst case we shall quietly await his attack in Italy; that Byzantium will always be able to choose the moment, repeating it until successful. Well--we will show him that we can become dangerous! That it might be wiser to leave us Italy, and not irritate us! He will not let us enjoy our kingdom? Then, as in the days of Alaric and Theodoric, he shall again see the Goths in his own country! At present only this--for secrecy is the mother of victory--we will reach the heart of the Eastern Empire as we once reached Rome--on canvas wings and wooden bridges.--Now, Justinianus, protect thine own hearth-stone!" CHAPTER V. Soon after the Emperor's refusal of the proposals of the Goths had arrived in Rome, we find--in the dining-room of a simple but tastefully-built and furnished house upon the Forum Strategii at Byzantium, which, close to the incomparable shore of the Golden Horn, affords a view of the Straits and of the splendid suburb "Justiniana"--two men engaged in confidential talk. The master of the house was our old--and, we hope, not unloved--acquaintance Procopius, who now lived much respected as a senator in Byzantium. He zealously attended to the wants of his guest, but in doing so used his left hand. His right arm ended in a covered stump. "Yes," he was saying, "at every moment I am reminded by my missing hand of a folly. I do not, however, repent it. I should do the same thing again even if it cost me my eyesight. It was a folly of the heart, and to be capable of that is the greatest happiness. I have never been able really to love a woman. My only love was and is--Belisarius! I know very well--you need not draw down the corners of your mouth so contemptuously, friend--I see very clearly the weaknesses and imperfections of my hero. But that is exactly what is sweet in a heart-folly--to love the foibles of your idol more than the merits of other people. And so--to cut my story short--it was during the last Persian war that, one day, I warned the lion-hearted general not to ride through a dangerous wood with a scanty escort. Of course he did it all the more, the dear fool; and of course Procopius, the wise fool, rode with him. All happened just as I had expected. The whole wood was suddenly filled with Persians. It seemed as if the wind had shaken the withered leaves from the trees, and every leaf was an axe or a spear. It was very like the ambush before the Tiburtinian Gate. Balan, the faithful piebald, bore his master for the last time. Stuck full of spears, he fell dead to the ground. I assisted the hero to mount my own horse. But a Persian prince, who was almost as tall as his name was long--the pleasant fellow was called Adrastaransalanes--aimed a blow at the magister militum which, in my hurry, I received upon my right arm--for my shield was occupied in protecting Belisarius against a Saracen. The blow was well meant; if it had reached my hero's helmless head, it would have cracked it like a nutshell. As it was, it only cut off my fore-arm as if it had never been part of my body." "Of course Belisarius escaped, and of course Procopius was taken prisoner," said the guest, shaking his head. "Quite right, you commander of perspicacity, as my friend Adrastaransalanes would call you. But the same man with his long body, scimitar, and name--you will not insist upon my repeating it--was so moved by my 'elephantine magnanimity,' as he expressed himself, that he very soon set me free without ransom. He only begged for a ring which had been on the finger of my former right hand: as a remembrance, he said. Since then it is all over with my campaigns," added Procopius more gravely. "But in this loss of my pen-hand I see a punishment. I have written with it many a useless or not perfectly sincere word. However, if a like punishment overtook all the writers of Byzantium, there would soon be not a two-handed man left who could write. Writing is now a much slower and more difficult process with me. But that is good, for then, at every word one considers whether it is worth the trouble of inscribing or whether one is justified in doing so." "I have read with true enjoyment," said the guest, "your 'Vandal Wars,' your 'Persian Wars,' and, as far as it goes, the 'Gothic War.' When recovering from my hurt, it was my favourite book. But I am surprised that you were not sent to the Ult-ziagirian Huns and the mines of Cherson to keep our friend Petros company. If Justinian so severely punishes the forgery of documents--how harshly must he punish veracity in history! And you have so mercilessly scourged his indecision, his avarice, his mistakes in the choice of generals and officers--I wonder that you go unpunished." "Oh, I have not escaped punishment," said the historian gravely. "He left me my head: but he tried to rob me of my honour; and _she_ still more, the beautiful demon. For I had hinted that Justinian was tied to her apron-string. And she as passionately tries to hide her dominion as to uphold it. When my book was published, she called me to her. When I entered her apartment, and saw those pages upon her lap, I thought--Adrastaransalanes took off the hand that wrote; this woman will take off the head that thought. But she contented herself with giving me her little golden shoe to kiss; smiled very sweetly, and said, 'You write Greek better than any other author of our day, Procopius. So beautifully and so truly! I have been advised to sink you to the dumb fishes in the Bosphorus. But the man who so well told the truth when it was bitter to us, will also tell the truth when it is sweet to our ears. The greatest censurer of Justinian shall be his greatest panegyrist. Your punishment for the book upon Justinian's warlike deeds--shall be a book upon Justinian's peaceful deeds. You will write by the imperial order a book upon the edifices erected by the Emperor. You cannot deny that he has done great things in that line. If you were a better jurist than your camp-life with the great Belisarius has, unfortunately, allowed you to become--you should describe the Emperor's great piece of mosaic--his pandects. But for that your legal education is not complete enough' (and she was right!). 'Therefore you will describe the edifices of Justinian; and you yourself will be a living monument of his generosity. For you must confess that, for far less heinous offences, many an author under former Emperors has lost eyes, nose, and other things that it is disagreeable to miss. No Emperor has ever allowed such things to be said of him, and, moreover, rewarded candour with new commissions. But if the edifices of Justinian were to displease you, then indeed I fear you would not long outlive your want of taste--the gods would punish such ingratitude with a speedy death. See, I have procured this reward for you--for Justinian would have made you senator--so that you may be right in your assertion that Theodora possesses a pernicious and all-commanding influence!' Another kiss of her foot; of which she took advantage playfully to strike me on the mouth with her shoe. I had made my will before going to this audience. You now see how this demon in a woman's form revenges herself upon me! One really cannot censure the edifices erected by Justinian: one can only be silent--or praise them. If I remain silent, it will cost me my life. If I speak and do not praise, it will cost my life and my veracity. Therefore I must either praise or die. And I am weak enough," concluded Procopius with a sigh, "to prefer to praise and live." "You have consumed so much Thucydides and Tacitus, dry or liquid," said the guest, filling the glasses, "and yet have become neither a Thucydides nor a Tacitus!" "I would rather let my long-named friend cut off my left hand also than write about these buildings." "Keep your hand. But, after the public panegyric on the buildings, write a secret history of the shameful deeds of Justinian and Theodora." Procopius sprang from his seat. "That would be devilish, but grand! The advice is worthy of you, friend. For that you shall have one of the nine muses of Herodotus from my cellar--my oldest, dearest, most excellent wine. Oh! this secret history shall excite astonishment! The only pity is that I cannot relate the most filthy and most murderous deeds. I should die of disgust. And that which I can write will be always looked upon as immensely exaggerated. And what will posterity say of Procopius, who left a panegyric, a criticism, and an accusation--one and all on Justinian?" "Posterity will say that he was the greatest historian, but also the son and the victim, of the Empire of Byzantium. Revenge yourself; she has left you your clever head and your left hand. Well, your left hand need not know what your right hand formerly wrote. Draw the picture of this Empress and her husband for all future generations. Then _they_ will not have conquered with their buildings, but _you_ with your secret history. They would have punished limited candour; you will punish them by an unlimited revelation of the truth. Every one revenges himself with his own weapons--the bull with his horns, the warrior with his sword, the author by his pen." "Particularly," said Procopius, "when he has only his left hand. I thank you, and will follow your advice, Cethegus. I will write the 'Secret History' in revenge for the 'Edifices.' But now it is your turn to tell your story. I know the progress of events, through letters and the report of fugitives from Rome, or legionaries set free by Totila, until the time when you were last seen in your house, or, as they say, were last heard. Now relate what happened afterwards, you Prefect without a city!" "Immediately," said Cethegus. "But tell me first, how did Belisarius succeed in the last Persian war?" "As usual. You should not need to ask such a question! He had really beaten the enemy, and was on the point of forcing the Persian King, Chosroes, the son of Kabades, to conclude a lasting peace. Just then Areobindos, the Prince of Purple Snails, appeared in the camp with the announcement of an armistice of half a year's duration, granted, unknown to Belisarius, by Byzantium. Justinian had long ago entered into secret negotiations with Chosroes; he needed money; he again pretended to mistrust Belisarius, and let the Persian King escape for a hundred tons of gold, just as we were about to draw the net over him. Narses was wiser. When the Prince of Purple Snails came to him, on the Saracen side of the scene of war, he declared that the ambassador must be either a forger or a madman, took him prisoner, and continued the war until he had completely vanquished the Saracens. Then he sent the imperial ambassador back with an excuse to Byzantium. But the best excuse was the keys and treasures of seventy forts and towns which he had wrested from the enemy during the armistice, which Belisarius had respected." "This Narses is----" "The greatest man of our time," said Procopius, "the Prefect of Rome not excepted; for he does not, like the latter, wish for impossibilities. But we--that is, Belisarius and the cripple Procopius--always growling and grumbling, yet always as faithful as a poodle-dog, and never taught by experience, kept the armistice, gnashed our teeth, and returned to Byzantium. And now we wait for new commissions, laurels, and kicks. Fortunately, Antonina has renounced her inclination for the flowers and verses of other men, and so the couple--the lion and the dove--live very happily together here in Byzantium. Belisarius, day and night, naturally thinks of nothing but how he can again prove his heroism and devotion to his imperial master. Justinian is his folly, as Belisarius is mine. But now for your story." CHAPTER VI. Cethegus took a deep draught from the cup which stood before him, which was made of chased gold and shaped like a tower. He was considerably changed since that last night in Rome. The wrinkles on his temples were more sharply defined; his lip more firmly closed; his under-lip protruded still farther than before; and the ironical smile, which used to make him look younger and handsomer, very rarely played round the corners of his mouth. His eyes were generally half shut; only sometimes did he raise the lids to dart a glance, which, always dreaded by those upon whom it fell, now appeared more cruel and piercing than ever. He seemed to have become, not older, but harsher, more inexorable, and more merciless. "You know," he began, "all that happened until the fall of Rome. In one night I lost the city, the Capitol, my house, and my Cæsar! The crash of the fall of that image pained me more than the arrows of the Goths, or even of the Romans. As I was about to punish the destroyer of my Cæsar, my senses forsook me. I fell at the foot of the statue of Jupiter. I was restored to my senses by the cool breeze that blows over the Tiber, and which once before, twenty years ago, had restored a wounded man." He paused. "Of that another time, perhaps--perhaps never," he said, hastily cutting short a question from his host. "This time Lucius Licinius--his brother died for Rome and for me--and the faithful Moor, who had escaped the Black Earl as if by miracle, saved my life. Cast out of the front entrance by Teja--who, in his eagerness to murder the master, had no time to murder the slave--Syphax hurried to the back-door. There he met Lucius Licinius, who had only just then reached my house by a side-street. Together they followed the trace of my blood to the hall of the Jupiter. There they found me senseless, and had just time to lower me from the window, like a piece of baggage, into the court. Syphax jumped down and received me from the hands of the tribune, who then quickly followed, and they hurried with me to the river. "There very few people were to be seen, for all the Goths and friendly Romans had followed the King to the Capitol to help to extinguish the flames. Totila had expressly ordered--I hope to his destruction!--that all non-combatants should be spared and left unmolested. So my bearers were allowed to pass everywhere. It was thought that they carried a dead man. And they themselves, for some time, thought so too. In the river they found an empty fishing-boat full of nets. They laid me in it. Syphax threw my bloody mantle, with the purple hem of the 'princeps senatus,' upon the shore, in order to mislead my enemies. They covered me with sail-cloth and nets, and rowed down the river, through the still burning boats. When we had passed them, I came to myself. Syphax bathed my face with the water of the Tiber. My first glance fell on the still burning Capitol. They told me that my first exclamation was, 'Turn back! the Capitol!' And they were obliged to keep me quiet by force. My first clear thought was naturally: 'To return; to take revenge; to re-conquer Rome.' In the harbour of Portus we met with an Italian ship laden with grain. There were seven rowers in it. My companions approached it to beg for wine and bread, for they also were wounded and exhausted. The rowers recognised me. One of them wanted to take me prisoner and deliver me up to the Goths, sure of a rich reward. But the other six had served under me at the Mausoleum. I had nourished them for years. They slew the man who wanted to betray me, and promised Lucius that they would save me if it were possible. They hid me in heaps of grain while we passed the Gothic guardships which watched at the entrance of the harbour, Lucius and Syphax put on the dress of sailors, and rowed with the others. Thus we escaped. But while on board this vessel I was dangerously ill from my wounds. Only the ceaseless care of Syphax and the sea-air saved me. For days, they say, I only reiterated the words, 'Rome, Capitol, Cæsar!' When we landed at Panormus, in Sicily, under the protection of the Byzantines, I rapidly recovered. My old friend Cyprianus, who had admitted me into Theodoric's palace when I was made Prefect, received me at Panormus as captain of the harbour. Scarcely recovered, I went to Asia Minor--or, as you say, Asiana--to my estates; you know that I had splendid possessions at Sardes, Philadelphia, and Tralles----" "You have them no longer--the columned villas?" "I sold them all, for I was obliged at once to find the means of engaging fresh mercenaries, in order to liberate Rome and Italy." "Tenax propositi!" cried Procopius, amazed. "You have not, even now, given up hope?" "Can I give up myself? I have sent Licinius to enlist a wild and savage race, the Longobardians." "God protect your Italy if _they_ ever set foot in it." "I have also succeeded in winning the Empress to my cause, and by her means the propositions of peace made by Cassiodorus were refused at the last moment. For Rome must be freed from the barbarians! But when shall I find means to move this lazy colossus, Justinian? When will fate call me to my battle-field--Italia?" At this moment Syphax entered the room. He brought Cethegus a message from the Empress. It ran: "To the Jupiter of the Capitol. Do not leave your house to-morrow until I call you.--Theodora." On the next day the Emperor Justinian was standing buried in deep reflection before the tall golden crucifix in his room. The expression of his face was very grave, but without a trace of alarm or doubt. Quiet decision lay upon his features, which, else not handsome or noble, at this moment betrayed mental power and superiority. He lifted his eyes almost threateningly to the crucifix. "God of the Cross," he said, "Thou puttest Thy faithful servant to a hard proof! It seems to me that I have deserved better. Thou knowest all that I have done to the honour of Thy name! Why do not Thy strokes fall upon Thine enemies, the heathens and barbarians? Why not?" He was interrupted in his soliloquy by the entrance of the chamberlains and wardrobe-keepers. Justinian exchanged his morning garment for the robes of state. His slaves served him upon their knees. He apparelled himself in a tunic of white silk, reaching to the knees, embroidered with gold on both sides, and confined by a purple girdle. The tightly-fitting hose were also of silk of the same colour. His slaves threw over his shoulders a splendid mantle of a lighter shade of purple, with a broad hem of gold thread, upon which red circles and symbolic animal-forms, embroidered in green silk, alternated with each other. But the pearls and precious stones which were lavishly strewed over it, rendered the design almost invisible, and made the mantle so heavy, that the assistance of the train-bearer must have been indeed a welcome relief. On each of his arms the Emperor wore three broad golden bracelets. The wide crown was made of massive gold, arched over with two rows of pearls. His mantle was fastened on the shoulder with a costly brooch of large precious stones. The sceptre-keeper put into the Emperor's hand a golden staff the length of a man, at the top of which was a globe made out of a single large emerald, and surmounted with a golden cross. The Emperor grasped it firmly and rose from his seat. A slave offered him the thick-soled buskins which he usually wore, in order to increase his height. "No; to-day I need no buskins," said Justinian, and left the room. Down the Stairs of the Lions, so called from the twenty-four immense marble lions which guarded the twelve steps, and which had been brought from Carthage by Belisarius, the Emperor descended to a lower story, and entered the Hall of Jerusalem. This hall derived its name from the porphyry columns, the onyx vases, the golden tables and the numerous golden vessels which, arranged on pedestals and along the walls, were said to have formerly decorated the Temple of Jerusalem. These treasures had been taken to Rome by Titus, after the destruction of Jerusalem. From Rome the Sea-king Geiseric had taken them on his dragon-ships, together with the Empress Eudoxia, to his capital, Carthage. And now Belisarius had brought them from Carthage to the Emperor of the East. The cupola of the hall, representing the firmament, was wrought in mosaic. Costly blue stones formed the ground-work, in which was inlaid, besides the sun, the moon, the eye of God, the lamb, the fish, the birds, the palm, the vine, the unicorn, and many other symbols of Christianity, the whole zodiac and innumerable stars of massive gold. The cost of the cupola alone was estimated as high as the whole income of the taxes on property in all the Empire for forty-five years. Opposite the three great arches of the entrance, which were closed by curtains--it was the only entrance to the hall--and were guarded outside by a threefold line of imperial body-guards--the "Golden Shields"--stood, at the bottom of the semicircular hall, the elevated throne of the Emperor, and below it on the left the seat of the Empress. When Justinian entered the hall with a numerous retinue of palace officials, all the assembly, consisting of the highest dignitaries of the realm, threw themselves upon their faces in humble prostration. The Empress also rose, bowed deeply, and crossed her arms upon her bosom. Her dress was exactly similar to that of her husband. Her white stola was also covered by a purple mantle, but without hem. She carried a very short sceptre of ivory. The Emperor cast a slight but contemptuous glance at the patriarchs, archbishops, bishops, patricians and senators, who, above thirty in number, occupied a row of gilded chairs set in a semicircle and provided with cushions. He then passed through the middle of the hall and ascended his throne with a quick firm step. Twelve of the chief officers of the palace stood upon the steps of the two thrones, holding white wands in their hands. A blast of trumpets gave the signal to the kneeling assembly to rise. "Reverend bishops and worthy senators," began the Emperor, "we have called you together, to ask your advice in an affair of great moment. But why is our Magister Militum per Orientum, Narses, absent?" "He returned only yesterday from Persia--he is sick and confined to bed," answered the usher. "Where is our treasurer of the Sacri Palatii, Trebonianus?" "He has not yet returned from his embassy to Berytus about the code." "Where is Belisarius, our Magister Militum per Orientum extra Ordinem?" "He does not reside in Byzantium, but in Asia, in the Red House at Sycæ." "He keeps too far apart in the Red House. It displeases us. Why does he avoid our presence?" "He could not be found." "Not even in the house of his freedman, Photius?" "He has gone hunting to try the Persian hunting-leopards," said Leo, the assistant-huntsman. "He is never to be found when wanted, and is always present when not wanted. I am not content with Belisarius.--Hear now what has lately been communicated to me by letter; afterwards you shall hear the report of the envoys themselves. You know that we have allowed the war in Italy to die away--for we had other occupation for our generals. You know that the barbarian King sued for peace and the quiet possession of Italy. We rejected it at that time; awaiting more convenient circumstances. The Goth has answered, not in words, but by very insolent deeds. No one in Byzantium knows of it--we kept the news to ourselves, thinking it impossible, or at least exaggerated. But we find that it is true; and now you shall hear it and advise upon it. The barbarian King has sent a fleet and an army to Dalmatia with great haste and secrecy. The fleet entered the harbour of Muicurum near Salona; the army landed and carried the fortress by storm. In a similar way the fleet surprised the coast-town of Laureata. Claudianus, our governor at Salona, sent numerous and strongly-manned vessels to retake the town from the Goths. But a naval combat took place, and the Goth, Duke Guntharis, beat our Squadron so thoroughly that he made prizes of all the vessels without exception, and carried them victoriously into the harbour of Laureata. Further, the Gothic King equipped a second fleet of four hundred large ships at Centumcellæ. It was formed for the most part of Byzantine vessels, which, sent from the East to Sicily to reinforce Belisarius, in ignorance that the Italian harbours were again in possession of the Goths, had been taken by a Gothic earl, Grippa, with all their crews and freights. The goal of this second fleet was unknown. But suddenly the barbarian King himself appeared with the fleet before Regium, the fortress in the extreme southern part of Bruttia, which place we had won on our first landing in Italy, and had not since lost. After a brave resistance, the garrison of Herulians and Massagetæ were forced to capitulate. But the tyrant Totila sailed immediately to Sicily, to wrest from us that earliest of Belisarius's conquests. He beat the Roman governor Domnentiolus, who met him in the open field, and in a short time took possession of the whole island, with the exception of Messana, Panormus and Syracusæ, which were enabled to hold out by reason of their formidable fortifications. A fleet which I sent to attempt the reconquest of Sicily was dispersed by a storm. A second was driven by the north-west wind to the Peloponnesus. At the same time a third fleet of triremes, equipped by this indefatigable King and commanded by Earl Haduswinth, sailed for Corsica and Sardinia. The first of these islands presently fell to the Goths, after the imperial garrison of the capital city of Alexia had been beaten before the walls. The rich Corsican Furius Ahalla, to whom the greater part of the island belongs, was absent in India. But his stewards and tenants had been ordered, in case of a landing of the Goths, in nowise to oppose them, but to aid them to the best of their power. From Corsica the barbarians turned to Sardinia. Here, near Karalis, they beat the troops which our magister militum had sent from Africa to conquer the island, and took Karalis as well as Sulci, Castra Trajani and Turres. The Goths then settled down in both islands and treated them as permanently-acquired dependencies of the Gothic kingdom, placing Gothic commanders in all the towns, and raising taxes according to Gothic law. Strange to say, these taxes are far less heavy than ours, and the inhabitants shamelessly declare that they would rather pay the barbarians fifty than ninety to us. But all this was not enough. Sailing to the north-east from Sicily, the tyrant Totila united his squadron with a fourth fleet, under Earl Teja, off Hydrus. Part of this united fleet, under Earl Thorismuth, sailed to Corcyra, took possession of that island, and thence conquered all the surrounding islands. But not yet enough. The tyrant Totila and Earl Teja already attack the mainland of our Empire." A murmur of terror interrupted the august speaker. Justinian resumed in an angry voice: "They have landed in the harbour of Epirus vetus, carried the towns Nicopolis and Anchisus, south-west of the ancient Dodona, and taken a great many of our ships along the coast. All this may excite your indignation against the insolence of these barbarians; but you have now to hear what will move you in a different way. Briefly, according to reports which reached me yesterday, it is certain that the Goths are in full march upon Byzantium itself!" At this some of the senators sprang to their feet. "They intend a double attack. Their united fleet, commanded by Duke Guntharis, Earls Markja, Grippa, and Thorismuth, has beaten, in a combat of two days' duration, the fleet which protected our island provinces, and has driven it into the straits of Sestos and Abydos. Their army, under Totila and Teja, is marching across Thessaly by way of Dodona against Macedonia. Thessalonica is already threatened. Earl Teja has razed to the ground the 'New Wall' which we had there erected. The road to Byzantium is open. And no army stands between us and the barbarians. All our troops are on the Persian frontier. And now listen to what the Goth proposes. Fortunately God has befooled and blinded him to our weakness. He again offers us peace under the former conditions, with the one exception that he now intends to keep possession of Sicily. But he will evacuate all his other conquests if we will acknowledge his rule in Italy. As I had no means, neither fleets nor cohorts, to stop his victorious course, I have, for the present, demanded an armistice. This he has agreed to, on condition that afterwards peace is to be concluded on the former conditions. I have agreed to this----" And, pausing, the Emperor cast a searching glance at the assembly, and looked askance at the Empress. The assembly was evidently relieved. The Empress closed her eyes in order to conceal their expression. Her small hand grasped convulsively the arm of her throne. "But I agreed to it with the reservation that I should first hear the opinion of my wife, who has lately been an advocate for peace, and that also of my wise senate. I added that I myself was inclined to peace." All present looked more at ease. "And I believed that I could tell beforehand what would be the decision of my counsellors. Upon this understanding, the horsemen of Earl Teja unwillingly halted at Thessalonica; unfortunately they had already taken prisoner the bishop of that city. But they have sent him here with other prisoners, carrying messages and letters--you shall hear them and then decide. Reflect that if we refuse to conclude a peace, the barbarians will soon stand before our gates, and that we are only asked to yield that which the Empire has given up long ago, and which Belisarius in two campaigns failed to reconquer--Italia! Let the envoys approach." Through the arches of the entrance the body-guard now led in several men, in clerical, official, and military costume. Trembling and sighing, they threw themselves at the feet of Justinian. Even tears were not wanting. At a sign from the Emperor they rose again, and stood before the steps of the throne. "Your petitions and lamentations," said the Emperor, "I received yesterday. Protonotary, now read to us the letter from the Bishop of Nicopolis and the wounded Governor of Illyricum--since then the latter has succumbed to his wounds." The protonotary read: "To Justinianus, the unconquerable Emperor of the Romani, Dorotheos, Bishop of Nicopolis, and Nazares, Governor of Illyricum. The place whence we write these words will be the best proof of their gravity. We write on board the royal barge of the Gothic King, the _Italia_. When you read these words, you will have already learned the defeat of the fleet, the loss of the islands, the storming of the 'New Wall,' and the destruction of the army of Illyricum. Quicker than the messengers and the fugitives from these battles, have the Gothic pursuers reached us. The Gothic King has conquered and spared Nicopolis. Earl Teja has conquered and burnt Anchisus. I, Nazares, have served in the army for thirty years--and never have I seen such an attack as that in which Earl Teja overthrew me at the gates of Anchisus. They are irresistible, these Goths! Their horsemen sweep the country from Thessalonica to Philippi. The Goths in the heart of Illyricum! That has not been heard of for sixty years. And the King has sworn to return every year until he has peace--or Byzantium! Since he won Corcyra and the Sybotes, he stands upon the bridge of your Empire. Therefore, as God has touched the heart of this King, as he offers peace at a moderate price--the price of what he has actually gained--we beseech you, in the name of your trembling subjects, and of your smoking towns, to conclude a peace! Save us and save Byzantium! For your generals Belisarius and Narses will rather be able to stop the course of the sun and the blowing of the wind, than to stay King Totila and the terrible Teja." "They are prisoners," said the Emperor, interrupting the reader; "and perhaps they speak in fear of death. Now it is your turn to speak, venerable Bishop of Thessalonica; you, Anatolius, commander of Dodona; and you, Parmenio, brave captain of the Macedonian lancers. You are safe here under our imperial protection, but you have seen the barbarian generals. What do you advise?" At this the aged Bishop of Thessalonica again threw himself upon his knees, and cried: "O Emperor of the Romani, the barbarian King, Totila, is a heretic, and accursed for ever, yet never have I seen a man more richly endowed with all Christian virtues! Do not strive with him! In the other world he will be damned for ever, but--I cannot comprehend it--on earth God blesses all his ways. He is irresistible!" "I understand it well," interposed Anatolius. "It is his craft which wins for him all hearts--the deepest hypocrisy, a power of dissimulation which outdoes all our much-renowned and defamed Grecian cunning. The barbarian plays the part of a philanthropist so excellently, that he almost deceived me, until I reflected that there was no such thing in the world as the love which this man pretends, with all the art of a comedian. He acts as if he really felt compassion for his conquered enemies! He feeds the hungry, he divides the booty--your tax-money, O Emperor!--amongst the country people, whose fields have been devastated by the war. Women who had fled into the woods, and were found by his horsemen, he returns uninjured to their husbands. He enters the villages to the sound of a harp, played by a beautiful youth, who leads his horse. Do you know what is the consequence? Your own subjects, O Emperor of the Romani, rebel to him, and deliver your officers, who have obeyed your severe laws, into his hands. The peasants and farmers of Dodona did so by me. This barbarian is the greatest comedian of the century, and the clever hypocrite understands many other things besides fighting. He has entered into an alliance against you with the distant Persians, with your inveterate enemy Chosroes. We ourselves saw the Persian ambassador ride out of his camp towards the East." When Anatolius had ceased speaking, the Macedonian captain gave his report, which ran: "Ruler of the Romani--since Earl Teja gained the high-road of Thessalonica, nothing stands between your throne and his battle-axe but the walls of this city. He who stormed the 'New Wall' eight times in succession, and carried it at the ninth attempt, will carry the walls of Byzantium at the tenth. You can only repel the Goths if you have sevenfold their number. If you have it not, then conclude a peace." "Peace! peace! we beseech you, in the name of your trembling provinces of Epirus, Thessaly, and Macedonia!" "Deliver us from the Goths!" "Let us not again see the days of Alaric and Theodoric!" "Peace with the Goths! Peace! peace!" And all the envoys, bishops, officials, and warriors sank upon their knees with the cry of "Peace!" The effect upon the assembly was fearful. It had often happened that Persians and Saracens in the east. Moors in the south, and Bulgarians and Slavonians in the north-west, had made incursions into the country, slaying and plundering, and had sometimes beaten the troops sent against them, and escaped unhindered with their booty. But that Grecian islands should be permanently conquered by the enemy, that Grecian harbours should be won and governed by barbarians, and that the high-road to Byzantium should be dominated by Goths, was unheard of. With dismay the senators thought of the days when Gothic ships and Gothic armies should overrun all the Grecian islands, and repeatedly storm the walls of Byzantium, only to be stopped by the fulfilment of all their demands. They already seemed to hear the battle-axe of the "Black Earl" knocking at their gates. Quietly and searchingly did Justinian look into the rows of anxious faces on his right and on his left. "You have heard," he then began, "what Church, State, and Army desire. I now ask your opinion. We have already accomplished an armistice. Shall war or shall peace ensue? One word will buy peace--our assent to the cession of Italy, which is already lost. Whoever among you is in favour of war, let him hold up his hand." No one moved; for the senators were afraid for Byzantium, and they had no doubt of the Emperor's inclination for peace. "My senate unanimously declares for peace. I knew it beforehand," said Justinian, with a singular smile. "I am accustomed always to follow the advice of my wise councillors--and of my Empress." At this word Theodora started from her seat, and threw her ivory sceptre from her with such violence, that it flew far across the hall. The senators were startled. "Then farewell," cried the Empress, "farewell to what has ever been my pride--my belief in Justinian and his imperial dignity! Farewell all share in the cares and honours of the state! Alas, Justinian! alas for you and me that I must hear such words from your lips!" And she hid her face in her purple mantle, in order to conceal the agony which her excitement caused her. The Emperor turned towards her. "What! the Augusta, my wife, who, since Belisarius returned to Byzantium for the second time, has always advocated peace--with a short exception--does she now, in such a time of danger, advise----" "War!" cried Theodora, uncovering her face. And, in her intense earnestness, she looked more beautiful than she ever did when smiling in playful sport. "Must I, your wife, remind you of your honour? Will you suffer these barbarians to fix themselves firmly in your Empire, and force you to their will? You, who dreamt of the re-establishment of the Empire of Constantine! You, Justinian, who have taken the names of Persicus, Vandalicus, Alanicus, and Gothicus--you will allow this Gothic stripling to lead you by the beard whithersoever he will? Are you not the same Justinian who has been admired by the world, by Byzantium, and by Theodora? Our admiration was an error!" On hearing these words, the Patriarch of Byzantium--he still believed that the Emperor had irrevocably decided upon peace--took courage to oppose the Empress, who did not always hit upon the strict definition of orthodoxy of which he was the representative. "What!" he said, "the august lady advises bloody war? Verily, the Holy Church has no need to plead for the heretic. Notwithstanding, the new King is wonderfully mild towards the Catholics in Italy; and we can wait for more favourable times, until----" "No, priest!" interrupted Theodora; "the outraged honour of this Empire can wait no longer! O Justinian!"--he still remained obstinately silent--"O Justinian, let us not be deceived in you! You dare not let that be wrung from you by defiance which you refused to humble petitions! Must I remind you that once before your wife's advice, and will, and courage, saved your honour? Have you forgotten the terrible rebellion of the Nika? Have you forgotten how the united parties of the Circus, of the frantic mob of Byzantium, attacked this house? The flames arose, and the cry of 'Down with the tyrants!' rang in our ears. All your councillors advised flight or compliance; all these reverend bishops and wise senators, and even your generals; for Narses was away in distant Asia, and Belisarius was shut up by the rebels in the palace on the shore. All were in despair. Your wife Theodora was the only hero by your side. If you had yielded or fled, your throne, your life, and most certainly your honour, would have been lost. You hesitated. You were inclined to fly. 'Remain, and die if need be,' I then said; 'but die in the purple!' And you remained, and your courage saved you. You awaited death upon your throne, with me at your side--and God sent Belisarius to our relief! I speak the same now. Do not yield. Emperor of the Romani--do not yield to the barbarians! Stand firm. Let the ruins of the Golden Gate overwhelm you if the axe of the terrible Goth can force it; but die an Emperor! This purple is stained by the immeasurable insolence of these Germans. I throw it from me, and I swear by the wisdom of God, never will I again resume it until the Empire is rid of the Goths!" And she tore off her mantle and threw it down upon the steps of the throne. But then, greatly exhausted, she was on the point of sinking back into her seat when Justinianus caught her in his arms and pressed her to his bosom. "Theodora," he cried, "my glorious wife! You need no purple on your shoulders--your spirit is clothed in purple! You alone understand Justinian. War, and destruction to the Goths!" At this spectacle the trembling senators were overwhelmed with terror and astonishment. "Yes, wise fathers," cried the Emperor, turning to the assembly, "this time you were too clever to be men. It is indeed an honour to be called Constantine's successor, but it is no honour to be _your_ master! Our enemies, I fear, are right; Constantine only planted here the dead mummy of Rome, but the soul of Rome had already fled. Alas for the Empire! Were it free or a republic, it would now have sunk in shame for ever. It must have a master, who, when, like a lazy horse, it threatens to sink into the quagmire, pulls it up by the rein; a strong master with bridle, whip, and spurs!" At this moment a little crooked man, leaning on a crutch, forced his way into the hall, and limped up to the steps of the throne. "Emperor of the Romani," he began, when he rose from his obeisance, "a report reached me on my bed of pain of all that the barbarians had dared, and of what was going on here. I gathered all my strength and dragged myself here with difficulty, for, by one word from you, I must learn whether I have been a fool from the beginning in holding you to be a great ruler in spite of many weaknesses; whether I shall throw your marshal's staff into the deepest well, or still carry it with pride! Speak only one word: war or peace?" "War! war!" cried Justinian, and his countenance beamed. "Victory! Justinian!" cried the general. "Oh, let me kiss your hand, great Emperor!" and he limped up the steps of the throne. "But how is this, patrician, you have all at once become a man!" mocked the Empress. "You were always against the war with the Goths. Have you suddenly become endowed with a sense of honour?" "Honour!" cried Narses, "after that gay soap-bubble Belisarius, that great child, may run! Not honour but the Empire is at stake. As long as danger threatened from the east, I advised the Persian war. Nothing was to be feared from the Goths. But now your piety, O Empress, and Belisarius's hero-sword, have stirred up the hornets' nest so long, that at last the whole swarm flies dangerously into our faces. Now the danger threatens from that side, and I advise a Gothic war. The Goths are nearer to Byzantium than Chosroes to the eastern frontier. He who, like this Totila, can raise a kingdom from an abyss, can much more easily hurl another kingdom into an abyss. This young King is a worker of miracles, and must be stopped in time." "For this once," said Justinian, "I have the rare pleasure of finding my Empress and Narses of one mind." He was on the point of dismissing the assembly, when the Empress caught his arm. "Stay, my husband," she said. "To-day, for the second time, I have the honour to be proved your best adviser! Is it not so? Then listen to me and follow my further advice. Keep this wise assembly--all except Narses--confined in this hall.--Do not tremble, Illustrissimi; this time your lives are not in jeopardy. But you are unable to keep a secret; at least unless your tongues are slit. For this time, we will insure your silence by confinement.--There exists a conspiracy against your life, Justinian, or at least against your free will. A certain party had decided to force you to a war with the Goths. This object, truly, is now attained. But either to-night or to-morrow early the conspirators will again finally assemble. We must allow them to do so. We must not hinder them in their purpose by letting them know that their object is already planned. For dangerous persons--persons suspected long ago, and--O Justinian--very very _rich_ persons are concerned in it. It would be a pity if they escaped my snare." Justinian was not alarmed at the word conspiracy. "I also knew of it," he said. "But is it already so far advanced? To-morrow! Theodora," he cried, "you are more to the Empire than Belisarius or Narses!--Captain of the Golden Shields, you will keep all present confined here until Narses comes to fetch them. Meanwhile, my pious and wise fathers, reflect upon this hour and its teachings! Narses, follow us and the Empress." So saying, Justinian descended the steps of the throne. When he, with Theodora and Narses, had left the Hall of Jerusalem, the entrance was immediately blocked with threatening spears. CHAPTER VII. The Emperor ordered the Empress and Narses to follow him to his room. When they reached it, he embraced his wife with great tenderness, unembarrassed by the presence of a witness. "How your enthusiasm rejoices and exalts me!" he exclaimed. "I am proud of such a wife. How beautiful you were, O Theodora, in your noble indignation. How can I reward you! Choose any favour, any sign of my gratitude, my best and truest councillor and co-ruler?" "If I, a weak woman, dare indeed believe that I may share your thoughts and plans in this war, then confide in me, and tell me how you intend to conduct it." "I am resolved to send Belisarius again to Italy. But not alone. His trifling with a crown has made me wary." "Then I beg the favour of being allowed to propose a second general.--Narses," she continued, before Justinian could speak, "will you be the other?" She wished to make it impossible for him to go. "No, I thank you," Narses answered bitterly. "You know that I am a stubborn and ill-tempered horse; I cannot endure to draw together with another. A marshal's staff and a wife, Justinian, should be kept on the same condition." "How?" "Alone, or not at all." "Then _you_ not at all," answered Justinian with vexation. "You must not imagine that you are indispensable, magister militum." "No one on earth is so, Justinian. With all my heart! Send great Belisarius again! He may try his luck for the third time in that country, where laurels grow so thickly. My turn will come later. I am no doubt unnecessary here as a witness of your domestic felicity, and at home, opposite to my sickbed, stands a map of the Italian roads. Allow me to continue my study of it. It is more interesting than the map of our Persian frontier. One piece of advice. You will ultimately be obliged to send Narses to Italy. The sooner you send him the more you will spare yourself defeat, vexation, and money. And if gout or that wretched epilepsy should carry Narses off before King Totila lies upon his shield, who then will conquer Italy for you? You believe in prophecy. In Italy there runs a saying: 'T beats B, N beats T.'" "Does that mean, perhaps, that Theodora beat Belisarius, and Narses beats Theodora?" asked the Empress mockingly. "That is not _my_ interpretation of the riddle; it is yours. But I accept it. Do you know which was the wisest of your many laws, O Justinian?" "Well?" "That which made death the punishment of all accusations against the Empress, for it was the only way in which you could keep her." And he left the room. "The insolent fellow!" cried Theodora, sending a venomous look after him. "He dares to threaten! When Belisarius has once been rendered harmless, Narses must quickly follow." "But meanwhile we need them both," said Justinian. "Do you really propose, as the second general to be sent to Italy, the man who persuaded us to reject the proposals of Cassiodorus?" "The same." "But my distrust of that ambitious man has since then become stronger." "Have you then forgotten," retorted Theodora, "who revealed the intentions of Silverius? Who was the first to warn you of Belisarius's dangerous game?" "But he now frequents the company of the men who are conspiring against me!" "Yes; but, O Justinian, it is by my order, as their destroyer." "Indeed! But if he is also deceiving you?" "Will you believe him and me, and send him to Italy, if he brings the conspirators to your feet in chains to-morrow, and amongst them their unknown chief?" "I already know who it is; it is Photius, the freedman of Belisarius." "No, Justinian; it is he whom you would again send to Italy if I did not warn you: Belisarius himself!" The Emperor grew pale, and grasped the arm of his chair. "Will you now believe in that wonderful Roman's devotion, and send him to Italy with your army, instead of Belisarius?" "Everything, everything!" said Justinian. "Belisarius, then, is really a traitor! Then we must make haste! Let us act at once." "I have already acted, Justinian. My net is cast, and no one can escape. Give me full power to draw it close." The Emperor nodded acquiescence. And passing through the curtains, Theodora said to the door-keeper: "Fetch Cethegus, the Prefect of Rome, from his house, and take him to my room." CHAPTER VIII. Shortly after, Cethegus once more stood before the still seductive woman, whom he had known in youth. She was lying stretched upon her couch in the room in which we have before seen her. Galatea frequently handed to her a small onyx-cup, filled with the drops prescribed by her Persian physician. Grecian doctors no longer sufficed. "I thank you, Theodora," said Cethegus, after a friendly greeting, "and if I must thank any other than myself--and a woman!--I would rather owe something to my early friend than to another." "Listen, Prefect," said Theodora, looking gravely at him. "You would be just the man--shall I say the barbarian or the Roman?--to first kiss a Cleopatra whom a Cæsar and an Antony had adored, and then take her in triumph to the Capitol in order to strangle her, as, perhaps, Octavianus once intended, if that sly Queen had not been beforehand with him. Cleopatra has always been my model. 'Tis true, I have never found a Cæsar. But the asp, perhaps, will not be wanting. But you need not thank me. I have spoken and acted out of conviction. The insolence which we have suffered from these Goths must be smothered in blood. Perhaps I have not always been such a faithful wife as Justinian believed; but I was always his best and truest adviser. Belisarius and Narses cannot be sent together, and still less singly, to Italy. You shall go. You are a hero, a general, and a statesman, and yet you are too weak to harm Justinian." "Thanks for your good opinion," said Cethegus. "Friend, you are a general without an army, an Emperor without an empire, a pilot without a ship. But enough of this--you will not believe me. I send you to Italy because I believe that you hate the barbarians with all your heart. The second general, whom the imperial distrust will undoubtedly send after you, shall be Areobindos. He will not trouble you much! I am rejoiced that I can thus serve not only my old companion but also the Empire. Ah, Cethegus, our youth! To you men it is either golden hopes or golden memories: to a woman it is life itself! Oh for a single day of the time when I sent you roses and you sent me verses!" "Your roses were beautiful, Theodora, but my verses were poor." "They were fine to me, for they were addressed to me! My choice of you, which is necessary for the Empire, is sweetened by old and new hate as well as by old love. Belisarius must not rise to new honours. He must fall, and this time fall low and for ever. As sure as I live!" "And Narses? I should understand and like it better if you were to ruin that head without an arm, than this arm without a head." "Patience! One after the other." "What has the good-natured hero done to you?" "He? Nothing. But his wife! that clumsy Antonina, whose whole triumph lies in her good health." And the delicate Empress clenched her little white fist, the fingers of which had become more transparent than ever. "Ah," she exclaimed, "how I hate her! Yes, and I envy her too! Stupid people are always healthy. But she shall not rejoice while I suffer!" "And the fate of the Capitol depends upon such a woman's hatred!" exclaimed Cethegus to himself. "Down with Cleopatra!" "The foolish woman is in love with her husband's honour and glory. There I can wound her fatally!" continued Theodora. As she spoke the twitching of her delicate features betrayed an attack of acute pain; she threw herself back upon her cushions. "My little dove," said Galatea, "do not be angry. Thou knowest what the Persian said. Every excitement, be it of love or of hate----" "Yes. To hate and to love is life! And as one grows older, hatred is almost sweeter than love. Love is false; hate is true." "In both," said Cethegus, "I am a novice compared to you. I have always called you the Siren of Cyprus. One can never be sure that you will not suddenly tear your victim in the very act of embracing him--either from love, or from hate. And what has suddenly changed your love of Antonina into hatred?" "She has become virtuous, the hypocrite! Or can she be really so weak-minded? It is possible. Her fishy blood can never be made to boil. For a strong passion or a bold crime she was always too cowardly. She is too vain to forego admiration and too paltry to reciprocate it. Since she accompanied her husband on his campaign she has become quite virtuous. Ha, ha, ha! because she was obliged! Even as the devil fasts when he has nothing to eat. Because I kept her lover a prisoner." "Anicius, the son of Boëthius? I heard of it." "Yes, he. When in Italy Antonina again clung to her husband and shared his fame and his misfortunes. And since that time she is a very Penelope! When she returned here, what did the goose do? She reproached me with having enticed her from the path of virtue! and swore that she would save Anicius from my toils. And she succeeds, the snake! She opens the gates of conscience and weans my unfaithful chamberlain more and more from me--of course only to keep him for herself." "So you cannot imagine," said Cethegus, "that any woman can try to save a soul?" "Without profit? No. But at the same time she deceives herself and him by pious speeches. And oh! how gladly the youth allows himself to be saved by this youthful blooming saint from the arms of the faded woman--who is wasted before her time! Ha!" she added passionately, starting from her seat, "how pitiable that the body must succumb from fatigue before the soul has half satisfied its thirst for life! And to live is to rule, to hate, and to love!" "You seem insatiable in these arts and enjoyments." "Yes," cried Theodora, "and I am proud of it. Must I indeed leave the richly-spread table of existence, must I leave this imperial throne, with all my ardent love of joy and power still unquenched? Shall I only sip a few more drops? Oh, Nature is a miserable blunderer! Once in many thousand ages she creates, amid a host of cripples, ugly in body and weak in mind, a soul and body like mine, perfect and strong, and full of the longing to live and to enjoy for an eternity. And, when only six lustres have passed, when I have scarcely sipped of the full cup offered to me. Nature dries up the spring of life! A curse upon the envy of the gods! But men can envy too, and envy changes them into demons. Others shall not enjoy when I can do so no longer! Others shall no more laugh when I must writhe in agony all night long! Antonina shall not rejoice in her youth with the false man who was once mine and yet could think of another, or of virtue, or of heaven! Anicius has told me this very day that he can bear this life without fame and honour no more--that heaven and earth call him away. He shall repent it--together with her. Come, Cethegus," she said furiously, grasping his arm, "come; we will destroy them both!" "You forget," said Cethegus coldly, "that I have no reason to hate either her or him. So what I do will be done for your sake." "Not so, you wise and icy Roman! Do you believe that I do not see through you?" "I hope not," thought Cethegus. "You wish to keep Belisarius away from Italy. You wish to fight and conquer alone. Or at most with a shadow beside you, such as Bessas was and Areobindos will be. Do you think I did not understand why you so cleverly managed the recall of Belisarius when before Ravenna? Anxiety for Justinian! What is Justinian to you?" Cethegus felt his heart beat. "The freedom of Rome!" continued Theodora. "Nonsense! You know that only strong and simple men can be trusted with freedom. And you know your Quirites. No, your aim lies higher." "Is it possible that this woman guesses what all my enemies and friends do not even suspect?" thought Cethegus. "You wish to free Italy alone, and alone rule her as Justinian's vice-regent. To be next to his throne, high above Belisarius and Narses, and second only to Theodora. And if there were any higher goal, yours would be the spirit to fly at it." Cethegus breathed again. "That would hardly be worth the trouble," he thought. "Oh," continued Theodora, "it is a proud feeling to be the first of Justinian's servants!" "Of course," thought Cethegus, "she is not capable of imagining anything superior to her husband, although she deceives him daily." "And," Theodora went on, "to rule _him_, the Emperor, in company with me." "The flattering atmosphere of this court dulls even the clearest intellect," thought Cethegus. "It is the madness of the purple. She can only think of herself as all-commanding." "Yes, Cethegus," continued Theodora; "I would allow no other man even to _think_ of this. But I will help you to obtain it. With you I will share the mastery of the world. Perhaps only because I remember many a foolish youthful dream. Do you still remember how, years ago, we shared two cushions in my little villa? We called them the Orient and the Occident. It was an omen. So will we now share the Orient and the Occident. Through my Justinian I will rule the Orient. Through my Cethegus I will rule the Occident!" "Ambitious, insatiable woman!" thought Cethegus. "Oh that Mataswintha had not died! She at this court--and you would sink for ever!" "But to gain this," said Theodora, "Belisarius must be got out of the way. Justinian had resolved to send him once more as your commander-in-chief to Italy." Cethegus frowned. "He trusts again and again to his dog-like fidelity. He must be thoroughly convinced of his falsity." "That will be difficult to manage," said Cethegus. "Theodora will sooner learn to be faithful than Belisarius to be false." A blow from Theodora's little hand was the punishment for this speech. "To you, foolishly, I have been ever faithful--that is, in affection. Do you want Belisarius again in Italy?" "On no account!" "Then help me to ruin him, together with Anicius, the son of Boëthius." "So be it," said the Prefect. "I have no reason to spare the brother of Severinus. But how can you possibly bring proofs against Belisarius? I am really curious. If you accomplish _that_, I will declare myself no less a novice in plots and machinations than in love and hatred." "And that you are, you dull son of Latium! Now listen. But it is such a dangerous subject, that I must beg thee, Galatea, to keep watch that no one comes and listens. No, my good mother, not inside! I beg thee; _outside_ the door. Leave me alone with the Prefect: it is--more's the pity--no secret of love?" When, after some time, the Prefect left the room, he said to himself: "If this woman were a man--I should kill her! She would be more dangerous than the barbarians and Belisarius together! But then, certainly, the iniquity would be neither so inscrutable nor so devilish!" CHAPTER IX. Soon after the Prefect had returned home, Syphax announced the son of Boëthius, who came from the Empress. "'Let him enter, and admit no one else until he has gone," said Cethegus. "Meanwhile send quickly for Piso, the tribune." And he rose to meet Anicius, who now entered the room. Anicius was no longer a youth, and his delicate features were much improved by the expression of resolution which at this moment rested upon them. He was dressed very simply, and his hair, which was usually curled, now hung straight down. "You remind me of your beautiful sister, Anicius." With these words the Prefect received his visitor. "It is on her account, Cethegus, that I come," said Anicius gravely. "You are the oldest friend of my father and of our house. You hid Severinus and me from our enemies, and assisted us to escape at your own risk. You are the only man in Byzantium to whom I can appeal in a mysterious affair. A few days ago I received this incomprehensible letter, 'To the son of my patron; Corbulo the freedman----" "Corbulo? I know that name!" "He was the freedman of my father, with whom my mother and sister took refuge, and who----" "Fell before Rome with your brother!" "Yes. But he only died after being carried into the Gothic encampment, for he was taken prisoner, together with my dying brother, in the village _ad aras Bacchi_. So I am told by one of Belisarius's mercenaries called Sutas, who was taken prisoner at the same time, And who has now brought me the letter which Corbulo could not finish. Read it for yourself." Cethegus took the small wax tablet with its scarcely legible writing and read: "'The legacy of your dying brother, and his last words were: Anicius must revenge our mother, our sister, and myself. It was the same enemy of our house, the same demon who----'" "The letter ends here," said Cethegus. "Yes. Corbulo lost his senses and never again became conscious, the mercenary said." "There is not much to be made of this," observed Cethegus, shrugging his shoulders. "No; but the mercenary Sutas--they were all in the same tent--heard a few words spoken by my dying brother to Corbulo, which may give us the key to the letter." "Well?" asked Cethegus, with concealed anxiety. "Severinus said: 'I suspect it. He knew of the ambush--he sent us to meet certain death.'" "Who?" asked Cethegus quietly. "That is just what I want to find out." "You have no suspicion?" "No; but it cannot be impossible to discover the man who is meant." "How will you manage it?" "'Sent us to meet certain death,' that can only mean some leader or general who was the cause of my brother's sharing that fatal morning ride out of the Tiburtinian Gate. For Severinus did not at that time belong to the suite of Belisarius. He was a tribune of your legions. If you, Belisarius, and Procopius will earnestly try to find out the man who sent Severinus with Belisarius, you must succeed. For he did not go with other legionaries--none of your legionaries or horsemen accompanied Belisarius." "As far as I recollect," said Cethegus, "you are right." "Not one," repeated Anicius. "Procopius--unfortunately he has gone to examine the buildings which Justinian has erected in Asia--was present, and has often told me the names of all who were with him. When he returns, I will make a careful inquiry of what my brother did just before the sally. Into whose house or tent he went--I will not rest, I will ask all the still living comrades of Severinus where they saw him last before he rode out." "You are very acute for your years," said the Prefect with a strange smile. "What will you be when you are arrived at maturity? But certainly you are in a good school. Does the Empress know of this letter?" "No. And she shall never hear of it. Do not name her to me! This duty of revenge has been sent by God to tear me away from her!" "But she sent you to me?" "In another affair, which, however, shall end very differently to what she intends. A few hours ago she sent for me, and asked me once again if it was so very terrible to be kept in a golden cage. But the woman disgusts me. And I heartily regret the months that I have wasted at her side, while my brother fought and fell for the fatherland. I gave her such a rude answer, that I expected a storm. But, to my astonishment, she was perfectly quiet, and said, smiling, 'Be it so. No faithfulness lasts long. Go to Antonina, or to Virtue, or to both goddesses. But, as a last sign of my favour, I will save you from certain destruction. There exists in Byzantium a conspiracy against the life or free will of Justinian. Be quiet--I know it. I know also that you are already half won; that you have not yet gone to any of their meetings, but that you have the documents of the conspiracy in your keeping. I have allowed them to do as they liked, because there are some of my old enemies amongst them, whom I wish to ruin. In a few days they will be surprised. But I will warn and save you. Go to the Prefect. He must take you with him away from Byzantium. Tell him that you are in danger, and that Theodora sends you. But say nothing to him of the conspiracy. There are some of his tribunes concerned in it, whom he would gladly save, but whom I will destroy.' All this she said to me, and I came, but not to fly! I came to warn you and my Roman comrades. I shall also go to the meeting--there is no danger for to-day, the Empress said--and warn them all. I shall tell them that the conspiracy is discovered. You must not be there, Prefect; you must not place yourself in any further danger. Justinian already suspects you. The foolish youths wish to wait until they have won Belisarius to their cause! And if they are not warned they will most likely be all taken prisoners to-morrow. I shall hasten to tell them of their danger. But, that done, I will not rest a moment until I have discovered the murderer of my brother." "Both intentions are highly praiseworthy," said Cethegus. "But, by the way, where do you hide the papers of the conspirators?" "Where I hide all secrets," said Anicius, blushing--"secrets and letters that are sacred and dear to me; where I will also hide this tablet. You shall know the spot, for you, the oldest friend of my house, must help me to complete my task of vengeance. I have written out Sutas's report of the scarcely-comprehensible conversation of the two dying men. They spoke of 'poisoning'--of 'murderous order'--of an 'accusation before the senate'--therefore our enemy must be a Roman senator--of a 'crimson crest'-of a 'black devil of a horse----'" "Et cetera, et cetera," said Cethegus, interrupting him. "Where is your hiding-place? It may be that you will have to escape in a hurry--for I strongly advise you not to trust the Empress--and perhaps you would not even be able to reach your house." "And besides," added Anicius, "it is necessary that you take up my work. I should in any case have told you of the hiding-place. It is in the cistern in the court of my house--the third brick to the right of the wheel is hollow. And you must know for another reason," he concluded gloomily. "If it is not possible to save my friends, if my own freedom is in danger--for you are right in your warning: I have long since remarked that I am followed by the spies of the Emperor or Empress--then I will quickly make a bloody end to it all. What matter if I die, if I cannot fulfil the duty which Severinus has imposed upon me? Then--it is my office to tell the Emperor every morning how the Empress has passed the night--then--I will strike the tyrant in the midst of his slaves!" "Madman!" cried Cethegus, in real terror--for he _now_ wished to keep Justinian alive and in power--"to what has remorse and a planless and dissolute life brought you? No! the son of Boëthius must not end as a murderer. If you wish to atone in blood for your inglorious past--then fight with my legions! Purify yourself in the blood of the barbarians, shed, not by the dagger of the murderer, but by the sword of the hero!" "You speak nobly, Cethegus. And will you really place _me_, untried and without fame, amongst your brave knights? How can I thank you!" "Spare your thanks until all is ended--until we meet again. Meanwhile warn the conspirators. That alone will be a proof of courage. For, as it seems you are followed, I think it a dangerous task. If you shun the danger, say so frankly." "_I_ hesitate to give the first proof of my courage! I would go and warn them, even if certain death were the consequence." He pressed the Prefect's hand, and hurried away. As soon as he was gone, Syphax brought in the tribune Piso through another door. "Master of Iambics," cried Cethegus, "you must now be as quick-footed as your verses! Enough of conspiracy and creeping here in Byzantium! You must immediately seek all the young Romans who frequent the house of Photius. The setting sun must find none of you within those walls. Your lives depend upon it. No one must go to the 'evening feast' at Photius's house. Go hunting, singly or in groups; make boat-races on the Bosphorus; only hurry away. The conspiracy is superfluous. The sound of the trumpet will soon summon you to battle against the barbarians in Latium. Away with you all! Wait for me at Epidamnus. Thence, with my Isaurians, I will fetch you to the third fight for Rome. Away!--Syphax," he said, when left alone with his slave, "have you inquired at the great general's house? When is he expected back?" "At sunset." "Is his faithful wife at home? Good. Bring a litter--not mine--bring the first you find at the Hippodrome. The blinds must shut closely. Take it to the harbour, into the back street of the slop-dealers." "Sir, the worst rabble of this city of vagabonds dwell in that street. What will you do there?" "I will there enter the litter, and then go to the Red House." CHAPTER X. In the Red House, the abode of Belisarius, which was situated in the suburb "Justiniana" (Sycæ), sat Antonina in the women's chamber, working busily. She was embroidering a border of golden laurels upon a mantle for her hero, Belisarius. Near her, upon a citron-wood table, lay, in a costly binding set with precious stones, a splendid edition of the "Vandal Wars," by Procopius, the lately published book which described her husband's prowess. At her feet lay a magnificent animal, one of the four tame hunting leopards which the Persian King had presented to Belisarius after the last peace; a very costly present, for it was seldom that the attempt to tame these leopards succeeded, and many hundreds of cubs which had been caught or born in confinement, were obliged to be killed as useless after being trained for years. The large, beautiful, and powerful animal--it easily became wild when it tasted warm blood while hunting, and had therefore been left at home stretched itself luxuriously, like a cat, upon the folds of Antonina's dress, played with her ball of gold thread, waved its tail, and sometimes rubbed its round and clever-looking head against the feet of its mistress. A slave entered and announced a stranger--he had arrived in a modest litter, and was dressed in a common mantle--the door-keeper would have refused to admit him, as the master was away, and the mistress received no visitors, but he would not be denied; he ordered them to announce to Antonina "the conqueror of Pope Silverius." "Cethegus!" cried Antonina. She grew pale and trembled. "Let him in at once." The influence which the powerful intellect of Cethegus had gained upon her the first time of their meeting; the recollection that, when her husband, Procopius, and all the leaders of the army, had helplessly succumbed to the priest, this man had conquered and humbled the conqueror; of how, at the entrance into Rome, the fight on the bridge of the Anio, the defence of Rome Against Witichis, in the camp of Ravenna and at the taking of that city, he had always and everywhere kept the upper hand, and yet had never used his superiority inimically against her husband; how nothing but misfortune had followed any neglect of his warnings; how all his counsels had been victorious in themselves--these recollections now confusedly crossed her mind. She heard the footsteps of the Prefect, and hastily rose. The leopard--pushed roughly aside and disturbed in his comfortable sport on account of the intruder--rose with a low growl, and looked threateningly at the door, gnashing his yellow teeth. Cethegus, before entering, drew the curtain violently aside and thrust forth his head, which was covered by a cowl. The abrupt movement must have either frightened or irritated the leopard. When the Persian lion and tiger tamers first began to break in a newly-caught animal, they were accustomed to envelop themselves and cover their heads with long woollen cloaks. Possibly the fierce and never wholly-tamed beast was reminded of his old enemies. With a terrible howl he crouched in preparation for a deadly spring, whipping the floor with his long tail and foaming at the mouth a sure sign of fury. Antonina saw it with horror. "Fly! fly, Cethegus!" she screamed. Had he done so, had he but turned his back, he would have been lost; the monster would at once have been upon his back with his teeth in his neck. For no door closed the entrance, the only barrier was a curtain. Cethegus promptly stepped forward, threw back his cowl, looked straight into the leopard's eyes, raising his left hand with an action of command, and threatening him with the dagger held in his right. "Down! down! The irons are hot!" he cried in the Persian language, at the same time moving a step in advance. The leopard suddenly broke into a whining howl of fear; his muscles, which had been contracted for the spring, relaxed; he crept whining, with his belly on the ground, to the feet of Cethegus, and howling with fear, licked the sandal of his left foot, while Cethegus set his right foot firmly upon the animal's neck. Antonina had sunk upon her couch in her fear; she now stared at the terrible, but beautiful scene. "That animal--the prostration!" she stammered. "Dareios always refused to do it; he was furious when Belisarius insisted upon it. Where have you learned this, Cethegus?" "In Persia, of course," he answered. And he kicked the thoroughly cowed animal between the ribs with such violence, that with a howl it flew into the farthest comer of the room, where it remained trembling and crouching, with its eyes fixed upon its subduer. "Belisarius only mastered the forts, but not the language of Persia," said Cethegus. "And these beasts do not understand Greek. You are grimly guarded, Antonina, when Belisarius is absent," he added, as he hid his dagger in the folds of his dress. "What brings you to my house?" Antonina asked, still trembling. "My often misdoubted friendship. I would save your husband, who has the courage of a lion, but not the dexterity of a mouse! Procopius is unfortunately absent, or I should have sent that better-trusted adviser, I know that a heavy blow threatens Belisarius from the Emperor. We must ward it off. The favour of the Emperor----" "Is very fickle, I know. But the services of Belisarius----" "Are his ruin. Justinian would not fear an insignificant man. But he fears Belisarius." "That we have often experienced," sighed Antonina. "Learn then--you before all others--what no one outside the palace knows: the Emperor's indecision is at an end. He has decided upon war with the Goths." "At last!" cried Antonina, with a beaming countenance. "Yes; but--think of the shame! Belisarius is not appointed commander-in-chief." "Who else?" asked Antonina angrily. "I am one of the generals----" She looked at him suspiciously. "Yes; it was my aim long since, I confess. But the second in command is to be Areobindos. I cannot conquer the Goths with him, hindered by his ignorance. No one can conquer the Goths but Belisarius. Therefore I must have him near me, or, for aught I care, over me. See, Antonina, I hold myself to be the greater statesman----" "My Belisarius is a hero, no statesman!" cried the proud wife. "But it would be ridiculous to compare myself as a general with the conqueror of the Vandals, Goths, and Persians. You see that I openly confess that I am not influenced only by friendship to Belisarius, but also by egotism. I _must_ have Belisarius for a comrade." "That is clear," said Antonina, much pleased. "But Justinian is not to be persuaded to appoint him. Still more, he again suspects him, and indeed more than ever." "But, by all the saints! wherefore?" "Belisarius is innocent; but he is very imprudent. For months he has received secret letters, notes, and warnings--stuck into his bathing-robe, or thrown into his garden--which invite him to take part in a conspiracy." "Heavens! You know of this?" stammered Antonina. "Unfortunately not I only, but also others--the Emperor himself!" "But the conspiracy is not against the Emperor's life or throne," said Antonina apologetically. "No; only against his free will. 'War with the Goths.'--'Belisarius commander-in-chief.'--'It is shameful to serve an ungrateful master.'--'Force the Emperor to his own advantage.' Such and similar things do these papers contain, do they not? Well, Belisarius has certainly not accepted; but, imprudently, he did not at once speak of these invitations to the Emperor, and this oversight may cost him his head!" "Oh, holy saints!" cried Antonina, wringing her hands. "He omitted to do so at my request, by my advice. Procopius advised him to tell all to the Emperor. But I--I feared Justinian's mistrust, which might have discovered the semblance of guilt in the mere fact that such papers had been sent to Belisarius." "It was not that alone, I think," said Cethegus cautiously, when he had looked round to see if any could hear, "which impelled you to give such advice, taken, of course, by Belisarius." "What else? What can you mean?" asked Antonina in a low voice. But she blushed up to the roots of her hair. "You knew that good friends of yours were concerned in the conspiracy; you wished first to warn them before the plot was betrayed." "Yes," she stammered. "Photius, the freedman----" "And yet another," whispered Cethegus, "who, scarcely freed from Theodora's gilded prison, would only exchange it for the vaults of the Bosphorus." Antonina covered her face with her hands. "I know all, Antonina--the slight fault of former days, the good resolutions of a later time. But in this case your old inclination has ensnared you. Instead of thinking only of Belisarius, you thought also of his welfare. And if Belisarius now falls, whose is the guilt?" "Oh! be silent! have pity!" cried Antonina. "Do not despair," continued Cethegus. "You have still a strong prop, one who will be your advocate with the Emperor. Even if banishment be threatened, the prayers of your friend Theodora will prevent the worst." "The Empress!" cried Antonina, in terror. "Oh, how she will misrepresent! She has sworn our undoing!" "That is bad," said Cethegus--"very bad! For the Empress also knows of the conspiracy, and of the invitations to Belisarius. And you know that a much less crime than that of being invited to join a conspiracy is sufficient----" "The Empress knows of it! Then we are lost! Oh! you who know how to find a means of escape when no other eye can see it--help I save us!" And Antonina sank at the Prefect's feet. A lamentable howl issued from the corner of the room. The leopard trembled with renewed fear. The Prefect cast a rapid glance at his beaten adversary, and then gently raised the kneeling woman. "Do not despair, Antonina. Yes; there is a way to save Belisarius--but only one." "Must he tell _now_ what has happened? As soon as he returns?" "For that it is too late; and it would be too little. He would not be believed; mere words would not prove that he was in earnest. No; he must prove his fidelity by deeds. He must seize all the conspirators together, and deliver them into the Emperor's power." "How can he seize them all together?" "They themselves have invited him. To-night they assemble in the house of Photius, his freedman. He must consent to put himself at their head. He must go to the meeting, and take them all prisoners. Anicius," he added, "has been warned already by the Empress. I have seen him." "Alas! But if he must die, it is to save Belisarius. My husband must do as you say; I see that it is the only way. And it is a bold and dangerous step; it will allure him." "Do you think he will sacrifice his freedman?" "We have warned the fool again and again. What matters Photius when Belisarius is in danger! If ever I have had any power over my husband, I shall prevail to-day. Procopius has often advised him to give such a brutal--as he called it--proof of his fidelity. I will remind him of it. You may be sure that he will follow our united counsel." "'Tis well. He must be there before midnight. When the watchman on the walls calls the hour, I shall break into the hall. And it is better, so that Belisarius may be quite safe, that he only enter the meeting when he sees my Moor Syphax in the niche before the house behind the statue of Petrus. He may also place a few of his guards in front of the house. In case of need, they can protect him, and bear witness in his favour. He is not capable of much feigning; he must only join the meeting shortly before midnight; thus he will have no need to speak. Our guards will wait in the Grove of Constantinus, at the back of Photius's house. At midnight--the trumpet sounds when the guard is relieved, and you know that it can be distinctly heard--we shall break in. Belisarius, therefore, need not undertake the dangerous task of giving a signal." "And you--you will be sure to be there?" "I shall not fail. Farewell, Antonina." And, suddenly stepping backwards, his face still turned towards the leopard, his dagger pointed, he had gained the exit. The leopard had waited for this moment; he moved slightly in his corner, rising slowly. But as he reached the curtain, Cethegus once again raised his dagger and threatened him. "Down, Dareios! the irons are hot!" And he was gone. The leopard laid his head upon the mosaic floor and uttered a howl of impotent fury. CHAPTER XI. The power and glory of Totila were now at their height. His happiness was completed by his union with Valeria. The betrothal had just taken place in the church of St. Peter, and was solemnised by Cassiodorus, assisted by Julius, now a Catholic priest, and also by an Arian minister. When Cassiodorus had betrothed the daughter of his old friend to the King, and they had exchanged rings, the royal couple were led in solemn procession over the Janiculum towards the right bank of the river, and across the Theodosian and Valentinian Bridges, which were decorated with triumphal arches. Following the course of the river, the procession entered a villa situated on an eminence overlooking the river and the campagna, and the betrothed couple took their places under a magnificent baldachin in the great hall. There, before the assembled national army, under the golden shield of the King, which was hung upon his spear, the Roman bride stepped into the right shoe of her Gothic bridegroom, while he laid his mailed right hand upon her head, which was covered with a transparent veil. Thus the betrothal was completed according to ecclesiastical, Roman, and Germanic custom. This ceremony over, Totila and Valeria took their seats at the centre table upon the terrace of the villa; Valeria surrounded by noble Roman and Gothic women, Totila by the dukes and earls of his army. Grecian and Roman flute-players played and sang alternately; Roman dances followed the sword-dance of the Gothic youths. Presently, dressed in a long, white festive garment, the hem embroidered in gold, and a wreath of laurel and oak-leaves upon his head, Adalgoth stood forth in front of the royal pair, cast an inquiring look at his teacher in war and song. Earl Teja, who sat on the King's right hand, and, to the accompaniment of his harp, sang in a clear voice: "Hear, all ye people, far and near, Hear, Byzant', to thy dole: The Gothic King, good Totila, Thrones on the Capitol/ "No more is Belisarius' name In Rome with honour decked: Of Orcus, and no more of Rome Cethegus is Prefect. "Of what leaves shall we weave the crown For good King Totila? Like sweetest rose upon his breast Blooms sweet Valeria. "Peace, freedom, right, and law protect His shield, his star, his sword: _Olive_, thy peaceful spray now give, Give for the peaceful Lord! "Who carried terror and revenge? Who bore the Grecians down? Come, _laurel_, leaf of victory, Make rich my hero's crown! "But his victorious strength grew not From Roma's mouldering ground: With leaves of young Germanic _oak_ Let his young head be crowned. "Hear, all ye people, far and near, Hear, Byzant', to thy dole: The Gothic King, young Totila, Thrones on the Capitol." A burst of applause rewarded his song, during which a Roman youth and a Gothic maiden, kneeling before Totila and Valeria, offered each a crown of roses, laurels, olive-leaves and oak-leaves. "_Our_ songs are also not quite without sweetness, Valeria," said Totila with a smile, "and not without strength and truth. I owe my life to this youthful minstrel." And he laid his hand upon Adalgoth's head. "He struck thy countryman Piso, his colleague in the art of song, most roughly upon his clever scanning fingers--as a punishment for having written many a verse to my Valeria and raised the deadly steel against me with one and the same hand!" "There is one thing that I would rather have heard, my Adalgoth," Teja said to the boy in a low voice, "than your song of praise." "What is that, my Earl of harp and sword?" "The death-cry of the Prefect, whom thou hast only sent to hell in thy verse." But Adalgoth was called away down the steps by a crowd of Gothic warriors, who would not part with him for a long time; for his song pleased the Gothic heroes who had fought with Totila much better than it will perhaps please you, my reader. Duke Guntharis embraced and kissed Adalgoth and said, as he drew him aside: "My young hero! What a resemblance! Whenever I see thee my first thought is: Alaric!" "Why, that is my battle-cry!" said Adalgoth, and, engaged in conversation, they disappeared amid the crowd. At the same time the King looked back at the vestibule of the villa, for the performance of the flute-players stationed there was suddenly interrupted. He quickly perceived the cause and started from his seat with a cry of astonishment. For between the two centre and flower-wreathed columns of the entrance stood a form which seemed scarcely human. A maiden of wondrous beauty, clad in a pure white garment, holding a staff in her hand, and with a wreath of star-like flowers upon her head. "Ah! what is that? Lives this charming figure?" the King asked. And all the guests followed the direction of the King's eyes and the movement of his hand with equal wonder, for the small opening left between the pillars by the masses of flowers was filled up by a more lovely form than their eyes had ever beheld. The child, or girl, had fastened her shining white linen tunic upon her left shoulder with a large sapphire clasp; her broad golden girdle was set with a row of sapphires. The long and pointed sleeves of her dress fell from her shoulders like two white wings. Wreaths of ivy were twined about her whole figure; in her right hand, which rested on her bosom, she held a shepherd's staff, wreathed with flowers; her left hand carried a beautiful crown of wild-flowers and was laid upon the head of a large shaggy dog, whose neck was likewise surrounded with a wreath. The girl looked without fear, but thoughtfully and examiningly, at the brilliant assembly. For a while the guests stared and waited, and the maiden stood motionless. Then the King left his seat, went towards her, and said with a smile: "Welcome to our feast, if thou art an earthly being. But if--which I almost believe--thou art the lovely Queen of the Elves--why then, be welcome too! We will place a throne for thee high above the King's seat." And with a graceful action he opened both his arms, inviting her to approach. With a light and gentle step the maiden crossed the threshold of the vestibule and, blushing, replied: "What sweet folly speakest thou, O King! I am no queen. I am Gotho, the shepherdess. But thou--I see it more by thy clear brow than by thy diadem--thou art Totila, the King of the Goths, whom they call the 'King of joy.' I have brought flowers for thee and thy lovely bride. I heard that this feast was to celebrate a betrothal. Gotho has nothing else to give. I plucked and twined these flowers as I came through the last meadow. And now, O King, protector of the orphan's right, hear and help me!" The King again took his place near Valeria. The maiden stood between them. Valeria took one of her hands; the King laid his hand upon her head, and said: "I swear to protect thee and thy rights by thine own lovely head. Who art thou, and what is thy desire?" "Sire, I am the grand-child and child of peasants. I have grown up in solitude amid the flowers of the Iffinger mountain. I had nothing dear to me on earth except my brother. He left me to seek thee. And when my grandfather felt that he was dying, he sent me to thee to find my brother and the solution of my fate. And he gave me old Hunibad from Teriolis as a companion and protector. But Hunibad's wounds were not fully healed and soon re-opened, and he was obliged to stay sick at Verona. And I had to nurse him for a long time, until at last he died too. And then I went alone, accompanied only by my faithful dog Brun, across all this wide hot country, until at last I found the city of Rome and thee. But thou keepest good order, O King, in thy land--thou deservest all praise. Thy high-roads are watched day and night by soldiers and horsemen. And they were friendly and good to the lonely wandering child. They sent me to the houses of good Goths at nightfall, where the housewife cherished me. And it is said that the law is so well obeyed in thy realm, that a golden bracelet might be laid upon the high-road, and would be found again after many many nights. In one town, Mantua, I think it was called, just as I was crossing the market-place, there was a great press, and the people ran together. And thy soldiers led forth a Roman to die there, and cried: 'Marcus Massurius must die the death, at the King's command. The King set him, a prisoner of war, free, and the insolent Roman ravished a Jewish girl. Sang Totila has renewed the law of the great Theodoric.' And they struck off his head in the open market-place, and all the people were terrified at King Totila's justice. Now, my faithful Brun, thou mayest rest here; here no one will hurt thee. I have even ornamented _his_ neck with flowers to-day, in honour of thee and thy bride." She slightly struck the powerful dog on the head; he immediately went up to the King's throne, and laid his left fore-foot confidingly upon the King's knee. And the King gave him water to drink out of a flat, golden dish. "For golden fidelity a golden dish," he said. "But who is thy brother?" "Well," the girl answered thoughtfully, "from what Hunibad told me during the journey and upon his sick-bed, I think that the name my brother bears is not his real one. But he is easy to be known," she added, blushing. "His locks are golden-brown; his eyes are blue as these shining stones; his voice is as clear as the note of the lark; and when he plays his harp, he looks up as if he saw the heavens open." "Adalgoth!" cried the King. "Adalgoth!" repeated all the guests. The boy--he had heard the loud shout of his name--flew up the steps. "My Gotho!" he exclaimed in a jubilant voice, and locked her in a tender embrace. "Those two belong to each other," said Duke Guntharis, who had followed the youth. "Like the dawn and the rising sun," added Teja. "But now," said the girl, as she quietly withdrew from Adalgoth's arms, "let me fulfil my errand and the behest of my dying grandfather. Here, O King, take this roll and read it. In it is contained the fate of Adalgoth and Gotho; the past and the present, said our grandfather." CHAPTER XII. The King broke the seals and read: "'This is written by Hildegisel, the son of Hildemuth, whom they call "the long;" once priest, now castellan at Teriolis. Written at the dictation of old Iffa; and it is all written down faithfully. Lo!--now it begins! The Latin is not always as good as that sung in the churches. But thou, O King, wilt understand it. For where it is bad Latin it is good Gothic. Lo!--now it really begins. Thus speaks the old man Iffa: My Lord and King Totila; the roll which is wrapped in this cover is the writing of the man Wargs, who, however, was neither my son, nor was his name Wargs--but his name was Alaric, and he was a Balthe, the banished Duke of----'" A ay of astonishment from all present interrupted the King. He paused. But Duke Guntharis cried: "Then Adalgoth, who calls himself the son of Wargs, is the son of Alaric! whom he himself, in his office of herald, has often, riding through the town on a white horse, loudly summoned to appear. And never saw I a greater resemblance than that between the father Alaric and the son Adalgoth." "Hail to the Duke of Apulia!" cried Totila, with a smile, as he embraced the boy. But, speechless with excitement, Gotho sank upon her knees, her eyes filled with tears, and, looking up at Adalgoth, she sighed: "Then thou art not my brother! O God!--Hail, Duke of Apulia! Farewell! farewell for ever!" and she rose to her feet and turned to go. "Not my sister!" cried Adalgoth. "That is the best thing which this dukedom brings me! Stop there!" and he caught Gotho in his arms, pressed her to his bosom, and kissed her heartily. Then he led her up to the King, saying, "Now, King Totila, unite us! Here is my bride--here is my duchess!" And Totila, who had meanwhile cast a rapid glance over the two documents, answered smiling: "In this case I do not need the wisdom of Solomon. Young Duke of Apulia, thus I betroth thee to thy bride." And he laid the laughing, weeping girl in Adalgoth's arms. Then he turned to the assembled Goths, and said: "Permit me shortly to explain to you what this writing--the Latin of which is rather rude, for Hildegisel was cleverer with the sword than the pen--contains. Here is, besides, Duke Alaric's declaration of his innocence." "That has already been proved by his son," cried Duke Guntharis. "And I never believed in his guilt." "Duke Alaric," continued the King, "discovered his secret accuser too late. Our Adalgoth, as you know, brought his innocence to light, when he found the hidden documents in the broken statue of Cæsar. Cethegus the Prefect had kept a sort of diary in a secret cypher. But Cassiodorus, with grief and amazement, deciphered the writing, and found an entry at the commencement of the book, written about twelve years ago, which ran thus: 'Duke Alaric condemned. That he was innocent, is now only believed by himself and his accuser. He who injures Cethegus shall not live. At the time when I woke from a death-like swoon on the banks of the Tiber, I swore to be revenged. I made a vow and it is now fulfilled.' The cause of this hatred is still a secret. But it is connected in some way with our friend Julius Montanus. Where is he?" "He has already returned to St. Peter's with Cassiodorus," answered Earl Teja; "excuse them. Every day at this hour they pray for peace with Byzantium. And Julius," he added with a bitter smile, "prays also for the Prefect's soul." "King Theodoric," said the King, "was hardly to be persuaded of the guilt of the brave duke, with whom he was on terms of intimate friendship." "Yes," observed Duke Guntharis, "he once gave him a broad gold bracelet with a runic device." The King now resumed his reading of the papers: "'I took a bracelet given me by King Theodoric'--these are the words of the duke--'when I fled with my child. Broken in two just in the centre of the runic inscription. It will one day serve to prove the honourable birth of my son.'" "He bears the proof on his face," cried Duke Guntharis. "But the golden proof is also not wanting!" exclaimed Adalgoth: "at least old Iffa gave me a broken bracelet. Here it is," and he took out the half of a broken bracelet, which he carried tied to a ribbon round his neck; "I have never been able to explain the sense of these words: "'The Amelung-- The eagle-- In need-- The friend--'" "Thou hast not the other half," said Gotho, and took the second half of the bracelet from her bosom. "See, here is written: "'--to the Balthe, --to the falcon, --and death, --to the friend.'" And now Teja, holding the two halves together, read: "'The Amelung to the Balthe, The eagle to the falcon, In need and death, The friend to the friend.'" But the King continued to read from the roll: "'King Theodoric could no longer protect me when letters were laid before him, in which my handwriting was so excellently imitated that I myself, on being shown a harmless sentence which had been cut out, acknowledged without hesitation that I had written it. Then the judges fitted the piece into the parchment and read the whole to me. That letter purported to be written to the court of Byzantium, with the promise that the writer would murder the King and evacuate South Italy, if the Emperor would acknowledge him as King of North Italy. And the judges condemned me. As I was led away from the hall, I met my old friend Cethegus Cæsarius in the passage. I had some time before succeeded in persuading a girl with whom he was in love to leave him and marry a good friend of mine in Gaul. Cethegus forced his way through my guards, struck me lightly on the shoulder and said, "He from whom his love has been torn, comforts himself with revenge;" and his eyes told me that he, and no other, had been my secret accuser. As a last favour, the King procured me the means of escape. But I and all my house were outlawed. For a long time I wandered restlessly in the northern mountains, until I recollected that some old and faithful adherents of my house were settled upon the Iffinger mountain. Thither I went with my boy, taking with me a few hereditary jewels, and my faithful friends received me and my son, and hid me under the name of Wargs--the banished--and gave out that I was the son of old Iffa, sending away all untrustworthy servants who might have betrayed me. Thus I lived in secret for some years. I educate my son to be my avenger on Cethegus the traitor, and when I die, old Iffa will continue this education. I hope the day will come when my innocence will be proved. But if it delays too long, my son, when he can wield the sword, shall leave the Iffinger and go to Italy, and revenge his father upon Cethegus Cæsarius. That is my last word to my son.'--'But,'" the King now read from a second paper, "'soon after the Duke had written this, a great landslip buried him, together with some of my relations. And I, Iffa, have brought up the boy as my grandchild and Gotho's brother, for the ban had not been taken off the family of Duke Alaric, and I did not wish to expose the boy to the revenge of that devil, Cethegus. And that it might not be possible for the boy to betray anything about his dangerous parentage, I never told him of it. But when he was grown up, and I heard that there reigned in the Roman citadel a mild and just King, who had conquered the devilish Prefect as the God of Morning conquers the Giant of the Night, I sent young Adalgoth away, and told him that, according to his father's command, he must revenge the noble chief and patron of our family upon Cethegus the traitor. But I did not even then tell him that he was Alaric's son, for I feared the ban. So long as his father's innocence was unproved, his father's name could only injure him. And I sent him away in great haste, for I discovered that the belief in his brotherly relation to my grandchild, Gotho, had not prevented him from loving her in a very unbrotherly manner. I might have told him that Gotho was not his sister. But far be it from me that I should dishonestly try to unite the noble scion of my old master and patron with my blood, the simple shepherd's child. No, if justice still exists upon earth, he will soon take his place as Duke of Apulia, like his father before him. And as I fear that I may die before he sends me word of the Prefect's ruin, I have begged the long Hildegisel to write all this down.' (And I, Hildegisel, have received for the writing twenty pounds of the best cheese, and twelve jars of honey, which I thankfully acknowledge, and all of which was good.) 'And with, these writings, and with the blue stones and fine garments and golden solidi from the inheritance of the Balthes, I send my child Gotho to King Totila the Just, to whom she must reveal everything. He will take the ban away from the innocent son of the guiltless duke. And when Adalgoth knows that he is the heir of the Balthes, and that Gotho is not his sister--then he may freely choose or shun the shepherdess; but this he must know, that the race of the Iffingers was never a race of vassals, but free from the very beginning, although under the protection of the House of Balthe. "'And now. King Totila, decide the fate of my grandchild and Adalgoth.'" CHAPTER XIII. "Well," laughed the King, "thou hast spared me the trouble, Duke of Apulia!" "And the little duchess," added Valeria, "has, as if she had foreseen what was coming, already adorned herself like a bride." "In honour of _you_," said the shepherdess. "When I heard of this feast as I entered the gates of Roma, I opened my bundle, as my grandfather had bidden me, and put on my ornaments." "Our betrothal," said Adalgoth to his bride, "has fallen upon the day of the King's betrothal; shall our wedding take place also on the wedding-day of the royal pair?" "No, no!" interrupted Valeria hastily, almost anxiously. "Add no other to a vow which is yet unfulfilled! You children of Fortune, be wise. You have to-day found each other. Keep to-day fast, for to-morrow belongs to the unknown!" "Thou speakest truth!" cried Adalgoth. "Even today shall be our wedding!" and he lifted Gotho upon his left arm, and showed her to all the people. "Look here, ye good Goths! This is my little wife and duchess!" "With your favour!" said a modest voice. "When so much sunshine falls upon the summits and heights of the nation, the lower vegetation would also gladly share some of its warmth." A homely-looking man approached the King, leading a pretty girl by the hand. "Is it thou, brave Wachis?" cried Earl Teja, going up to him. "And no longer a bond-servant, but with the long hair of a freedman?" "Yes, sir. My poor master. King Witichis, gave me my liberty when he sent me away with Mistress Rauthgundis and Wallada. Since then I have let my hair grow. And my mistress--I know it for a fact--was about to free Liuta, so that we might be married according to the law of the nation; but, alas, my mistress never returned to her home at Fæsulæ. But I returned just at the right moment to save Liuta, for the very next day the Saracens burnt the house and murdered all whom they found. After Mistress Rauthgundis's death--leaving no one to claim the inheritance, for a storm had buried her father Athalwin under an avalanche--Liuta became the King's property; and therefore I would beg the King to take me again as a bond-servant, so that we may not be punished if we marry, and----" "Wachis, thou art indeed faithful!" cried Totila, interrupting him. "No! thou shalt contract a free marriage! Give me a gold-piece." "Here, King Totila," said Gotho, eagerly taking one from her shepherd's bag; "it is the last of six." The King took the gold, laid it upon Liuta's open palm, and then struck her hand from below, so that the gold-piece flew up into the air, and fell ringing upon the mosaic pavement. Then the King said: "Liuta, thou art free! No bonds hold thee. Go in peace and rejoice with thy bridegroom." Earl Teja now came forward and said: "Wachis, once before thou hast borne the shield of a luckless master. Wilt thou now become my shield-bearer?" With tears in his eyes, Wachis clasped the hand of the Earl in both his own. And now Teja lifted his golden goblet and solemnly said: "Fortune befall you! Already shines on you The shimmering sunshine: Yet thankfully think Of the Dear and the Dead With reverent remembrance! He who strove unsuccessful, The world-renowned warrior: Witichis, Waltharis' worthiest son! Though you celebrate cheerily The feast of the fairest, The Deity's darlings, Yet honour for ever The memory mournful Of the Great and the Good! I remind you, O revellers, To drink to the dear ones; To the manliest man, And the worthiest woman; To Rauthgundis and Witichis, Deploring, I drink!" And all solemnly and silently returned his pledge. Then King Totila once more raised his cup and said before all the people: "_He_ deserved! _I_ received! To him be eternal honour!" As he resumed his place--the other two betrothed couples had been seated at the King's table--Earl Thorismuth, of Thurii (he had been rewarded for his valour by the title of Earl, but, at his own request, had retained his office of herald and shield-hearer), ascended the steps, and lowered his herald's staff before the King, saying: "I come to announce strangers, O King of the Goths! Guests who have sailed here from afar. The large fleet, of about a hundred ships, which was reported by thy coast-guards and from the harbour-towns, has now run into the harbour of Portus. It has brought northern people, an old, brave, and seafaring folk, from the land of farthest Thule. Their dragon-ships have lofty decks, and their monstrous figure-heads terrify the beholder. But they come to thee in peace. Yesterday the flag-ship lowered its boats, and our noble guests have sailed up the river. I challenged them, and received the answer: 'King Harald of Goetaland, and Haralda (his wife, as it seems), wish to greet King Totila.'" "Lead them to us! Duke Guntharis, Duke Adalgoth. Earl Teja, Earl Wisand, and Earl Grippa, go to meet and accompany them here." Presently, to the sound of strange and twisted horns made of shells, and surrounded by twenty of their sailors and heroes clad in close coats of mail, there appeared on the terrace two figures which far overtopped even the slender Totila and his table companions. King Harald bore upon his helmet the two wings--each several feet long--of the black sea-eagle. The tail-feathers of the same bird floated from his iron crest. Down his back fell the skin of a monstrous black bear, the jaws and fore-paws of which hung from broad iron rings upon his breast-plate. His coat, woven of iron wire, reached to the knee, and was confined round the hips by a broad belt of seal-skin, set with shells. His arms and legs were bare, but at once adorned and protected by broad golden bracelets. A short knife hung from a steel chain at his belt. In his right hand he carried a long forked spear like a harpoon. His thick, bright yellow hair fell like a mane low down upon his shoulders. At his left hand stood--scarcely shorter by a finger's length--the Walkyre-like form of his female companion. Upon her head she wore a golden open helmet, decorated with the small wings of the silver-gull. Her bright red hair, which had a metallic lustre, fell from beneath it in a long straight mass over the small strip of white bearskin which covered her back--more an ornament than a mantle--almost to her ankles. A closely-fitting mail, made of little scales of gold, betrayed the incomparable figure of the Amazon, yielding to every movement of her heaving bosom. Her under garment, which reached half-way between the knee and ankle, was tastefully made of the white skin of the snow-hare. Her arms were covered by sleeves made of rows of amber beads, which glittered strangely in the evening rays of the southern sunshine. Upon her left shoulder was gravely perched one of the delicate white falcons of Iceland. A small hatchet was stuck into her girdle. She carried over her shoulder a long sweeping harp, surmounted with a swan's head and neck of silver. The Roman populace--their eyes opened wide in wonder--pressed after these singular figures, and even the Goths could not but admire the wondrously fair complexion and the singularly light and sparkling eyes of these northerners. "As the black hero who received me," began the Viking, "assures me that he is not the King, then no other can be he but thou," and he gave his hand to Totila, first pulling off his fighting-glove of shark's skin. "Welcome to the Tiber, my cousins from Thuleland!" cried Totila, as he raised his cup and pledged his guests. Seats were quickly prepared, and the royal visitors took their places at the King's table; their followers at the table near them. Adalgoth poured out wine from tall, two-handled jugs. King Harald drank, and looked wonderingly around. "By Asathor!" he cried; "but it is beautiful here!" "Such I imagine Walhalla to be!" said his companion. The Goths and the northerners could scarcely understand each other. "If it pleases thee so well, brother," Totila slowly said, "then rest amongst us with thy wife for some time." "Ho-ho! Rome-King!" laughed the giantess, and tossed back her head so suddenly, that the waves of her red hair shook. The falcon flew screaming up, and circled round her head three times. It then quietly returned to her shoulder. "The man has not yet been born," continued the Amazon, "who could conquer Haralda's heart and hand. Harald alone, my brother, can bend my arm, and spring and hurl his spear farther than I." "Patience, my little sister! I trust that soon a man of marrow will master thy coy maidenhood. This King here, although he looks as mild as Baldur, yet resembles Sigurd, the vanquisher of Fafner. You shall vie with each other in hurling the spear." Haralda cast a long look at the Gothic King, blushed, and pressed a kiss upon her falcon's smooth head. But Totila said: "Evil befell, as the singers tell us, when Sigurd strove with the Amazon. Rather let woman greet woman in peace. Give thy hand, Haralda, to my bride." And he signed to Valeria, to whom Duke Guntharis had very imperfectly translated what was said. Valeria rose with graceful dignity. She wore a long white Roman-Grecian garment, which hung in soft folds, and was confined at the waist by a golden girdle, and upon the shoulder with a cameo brooch. Bound her nobly-shaped head was bound a branch of laurel, which Totila had taken from Adalgoth's wreath to fasten into her black hair. Her beauty, and the rhythm of her movements and the folds of her garments, seemed to float around her like music. She silently held out her hand to her northern sister. Haralda had cast a sharp and not very friendly look upon the Roman girl; but admiration soon dispelled the angry surprise which had overspread her countenance, and she said: "By Freia's necklace! thou art the most lovely woman I have ever beheld. I doubt whether a Wish-girl of Walhalla could compare with thee. Dost thou know, Harald, whom this Princess resembles? Ten nights ago we laid waste an island in the blue Grecian sea, and plundered a columned temple. There stood a tall, icy-cold woman, made of white stone; upon her breast was the figure of a head surrounded with snakes; at her feet the night-bird; she was clad in a garment of many folds. Swen unfortunately broke her to pieces because of the jewels in her eyes. The King's bride resembles that marble goddess." "I must translate what she has said to thee," said Totila, turning to Valeria with a smile. "Thy poetical adorer, Pisa, could not have flattered thee more delicately than this Bellona of the north. They landed, so we were told, at Melos, and there broke the beautiful statue of Athene, sculptured by Phidias. You have made great desolation, I hear," he continued, turning to Harald, "in all the islands between Cos, Chios, and Melos. What, then, has led you so peacefully to us?" "That I will tell thee, brother; but only after more drink." And he held out his cup to Adalgoth. "No, do not spoil the splendid juice with water! Water should be salt, so that no one could drink it unless he were a shark or a walrus. Water is good to carry us upon its back, but not to be carried in our stomachs. And this vine-beer of yours is a wonderful drink. I am soon tired of our mead; it is like a tame sweet dish. But this vine-mead! the more a man drinks, the thirstier he becomes. And if one drank too much--which is scarcely possible--it is not like the intoxication of ale or mead, which makes a man ready to pray to Asathor to hammer an iron ring round his temples. No; the intoxication of the vine is like the sweet madness of the Skalds--a man feels like a god! So much for the vine! But now I will tell thee how it was that we came here." CHAPTER XIV. "Well," began King Harald, "our home is in Thuleland, as the Skalds call it; in Goetaland, as we name it. For Thuleland is the land where one does _not_ dwell; where only, still nearer to the ice-mountains, _other_ people live. Our realm reaches, towards the rising of the sun, to the sea and our island, Gothland; towards the setting of the sun, as far as Hallin and the Skioldungahaff; towards midday, to Smaland, Skone, and the kingdom of the Sea-Danes; towards midnight, to Svealand. The King is my father, Frode, whom Odin loves. He is much wiser than I; but he has now crowned me as Vi-king, upon the sacred-stone at King-Sala, because he is already a hundred years old, and quite blind. Now the minstrels in our halls still sing the legends which tell that you Goths were originally our brothers, and that only by reason of the wandering of the peoples have you gradually drawn nearer to the south; for you followed the flight of the crane from the Caucasus, but we the running of the wolf." "If that be so," said King Totila, smiling, "I prefer the crane for a guide." "It may well seem so to thee, sitting here in this gay drinking-hall," answered King Harald gravely. "But however that maybe--and I do not quite believe it, for then we ought to understand each other's words better--we truly and highly honour this our blood-relationship. For a long time nothing but good news came from your warm realm to our cold Gothaland--news of the highest fame. And once my father and your King Thidrekr,[1] who is praised by the harp-songs of our Skalds, exchanged envoys and gifts, through the agency of the Esthes, who live on the Austrway. These men led our envoys to the Wends, on the Wyzla; these to the Longobardians, on the Tisia; these to the Herulians, on the Dravus; these through Savia to Salona and Ravenna." "Thou art a man learned in roads and countries," observed Totila. "That the Viking must be; for else he will never go forwards, and likewise never get back. Well, for some time we only heard of your glory and good fortune. But once and again there came bad news, brought by merchants who bought our furs and eiderdown and amber, and took it to the Frisians, and Saxons, and franks, giving us in exchange artfully-formed vessels, and silver and gold. The news became sadder and more sad; we heard that King Thidrekr had died, and that afterwards great evils had broken out in your realm. We heard of defeat, treachery, and of the murder of Kings; of Goths warring against Goths; and of the might of the false Prince of Grêkaland. And it was said that you had broken your heads by thousands against the high walls of your own Roman citadel, which was held not by you, but by a man like Asathor, and another man still worse than the fire-fiend Loki. And we asked if none of the many Kings and Princes who had begged favours of Thidrekr of Raven could have helped you. But at that the Frank merchant, who offered us fine tissues from the Wahala, laughed and said, 'Broken fortunes, broken faith! They have all forsaken the luckless Gothic heroes, Visigoths and Burgundians, Herulians and Thuringians, and most of all we Franks, for we are wiser than all.' But, on hearing this. King Frode threw down his staff angrily, and cried, 'Where is my strong son Harald?" 'Here, father,' I answered, and took his hand. 'Hast thou heard,' my father continued, 'the news of the faithlessness of the Southland Kings? Such things shall not be said or sung of the men of Goetaland! If all others turn away from the Goths of Gardarike and Raven, we will keep faith and help them in their need. Up, my brave Harald, and thou, my bold Haralda! equip a hundred dragon-ships, and fill them with men and weapons. Put your hands deeply into my royal treasure at Kinsala, and do not spare the heaped-up golden rings. And set forth with Odin's wind in your sails. Go first from Konghalla, past the island Danes and the Jutlanders, towards the setting of the sun; thence along the coasts of the Frisians and the Franks, through the narrow path of the sea; then sail farther round the realm of the Sueves to the mountain land that is called Asturia; and round the land of the Visigoths bend towards the south. Then wind through the narrow strait of the wide ocean, where Asathor and Odin have set two pillars. "You will then have entered the sea of Midilgard, where lie innumerable islands covered with evergreen bushes, out of which shine marble halls, upheld by high, round stone-beams. Lay waste these islands, for they belong to the false Prince of Grêkaland. And then sail to the Roman citadel or to Raven, and help the people of King Thidrekr against their enemies. And fight for them by land and water, and stand by them until all their enemies are overcome. And then speak to them and say: Thus advises King Frode, who will soon have seen a hundred winters, and who has seen the rise and fall of many peoples, and who, as a young Viking, has himself visited the Southland. This is his advice: 'Leave the Southland, however beautiful it may be. You cannot endure therein. As little as the iceberg can endure when it drifts into the southern sea. The sun, air, and waves consume it continually, and be it ever so mighty, it must melt away and leave not a trace behind. It is better to live in the poor Northland than to die in the rich Southland. Go on board our dragon-ships, and equip your own, and fill them with all your people; men, women, and children; and with your oxen and horses, and weapons and treasures; and leave the hot ground that will surely swallow you up, and come away to us. We will press closely together and make room, or take as much land from the Wends and Esthes as you need. And you shall be preserved fresh and green. Down there the southern sun withers and scorches you.' This is the advice of King Frode, whom men have called the Wise for fifty years. Now as we passed into the sea of Midilgard, we had already heard from seafarers that your troubles had been put an end to by a new King, whom they described as looking like the god Baldur; that you had re-won the Roman citadel and all the land of Gardarike, and had even victoriously carried destruction into part of Grêkaland itself. And now we see with our own eyes that you do not need the aid of our weapons. You live in plenty and pleasure, and everything is full of red gold and white stone. But still I must repeat my father's words and advice; listen to him; he is wise! Until now, every one who has despised King Frode's advice, has bitterly regretted it." But Totila shook his head, smiled, and said: "We owe you and King Frode warm thanks for rare and noble faithfulness. Such brotherly love from the Northern heroes shall never be forgotten in the songs of the Goths. But, O King Harald, follow me and look about you." And Totila rose and took his guest by the hand, and led him to the entrance of the pavilion, casting back the hanging curtains. There lay river and land and city in the glowing light of the setting sun. "Look at this land, wonderful in the beauty of its sky and soil and art. Look at this Tiber-stream, covered by a happy, jubilant, and handsome people. Look at these masses of laurel and myrtle. Cast thine eyes upon the columned palaces, which shine across from Rome in the evening rays; on the tall marble figures upon these terrace-steps--and say thou, if all this were thine, wouldst thou ever leave it? Wouldst thou exchange all this magnificence for the firs and pines of the cold land of the north, where spring-time never blooms, for the smoke-blackened wooden huts on the misty heaths?" "Aye, that I would, by Thorns hammer! This land is good to lay waste, to luxuriate and win battles in; but that done, then up and away with the booty! But you, Goths, are thrown here like drops of water upon hot iron. And if ever we sons of Odin shall rule this land, it will be only such of us as have a strong support in other sons of Odin. But you--you have already become very different to us. Your grandfathers, your fathers, and yourselves have wooed Roman women; in a few generations, if this continue, you will be Romanised. Already you have become smaller, and darker in skin, eyes, and hair. At least many of you. I long to be away from this soft and sultry air, and to breathe the north wind that rushes over our woods and waves. Yes, and I long for the smoke-blackened halls of wood, where Gothic runes are burnt into the roof-beams, and the harps of the Skalds hang on the wooden pillars, and the sacred hearth-fire glows hospitably for ever! I long for our Northland, for it is our home!" "Then permit us to love _our_ home: this land Italia!" "It will never be your home; but perhaps your grave. You are strangers and will remain so. Or you will become Romanised. But there is no abiding in the land possible for you as sons of Odin." "Let us at least try, my brother Harald," cried Totila, laughing. "Yes, we have changed in the two centuries during which our people have lived among the laurels. But are we the worse for it? Is it necessary to wear a bearskin in order to be a hero? Is it necessary to rob gold and marble statues in order to enjoy them? Can one be only either a barbarian or a Roman? Can we not keep the virtues of the Germans and lay aside their faults? Adopt the virtues of the Romans without their vices?" But Harald shook his massive head. "I should rejoice at your success, but I do not believe in it. The plant takes the nature of the soil and climate upon and under which it lives. And, for my part, I should not at all like it, even if I and mine could succeed. Our faults are dearer to me than the virtues of the Italians--if they have any." Totila remembered the words with which he himself had answered Julius. "From the north comes all strength--the world belongs to the Northmen," concluded Harald. "Tell it to them in the words of thy favourite song," said his sister. And she handed him her harp; and Harald played and sang an alliterative measure, or _stabreim_, which Adalgoth, translating it into rhymed verse, thus repeated to Valeria: "Thor stood at the midnight end of the world, And the battle-axe flew from his hand. 'As far as the battle-axe flies when hurled, Is mine the sea and the land!' And the hammer flew from his powerful hand Like chaff by a hurricane blown: And it fell in the farthest southern-land, So that all became his own. Since then 'tis German right and grace With the hammer the lands to merit; We come of the Hammer-God's noble race, And his world-wide realm will inherit!" A burst of applause from his Gothic hearers rewarded the royal minstrel, who looked as if he could well realise the proud boast of the song. Harald once more emptied his deep golden cup. Then he rose and said: "Now, my little sister Haralda, and you, my sailor brothers, we must break up. We must be on board the _Midgardschlange_ before the moon shines upon her deck. What says the Wikinga-Balk?-- "'Ill sleeps the ship When her pilot lies on shore.' "Long friendship--short parting; that is northern custom." Totila laid his hand upon his guest's arm. "Art thou in such haste? Fearest thou to become Romanised with us? Do but remain; it does not come so quickly. And with thee would scarcely happen." "There thou art right, Rome-King," laughed the giant; "and, by Thor's hammer, I am proud of it! But we must go. We had three things to do here. To help you in battle. You do not need us. Or do you? Shall we wait until new wars break out?" "No," said Totila, with a smile; "we have peace and not new strife in view. And if it should really once more come to a war--shall I prove thee right, brother Harald, in thinking us Goths too weak to uphold our rule alone? Have we not beaten our enemies without your help? Could we not beat them again, we Goths alone?" "I thought as much," said the Viking. "Secondly, we came to fetch you back to the Northland. You will not come. And, thirdly, to lay waste the islands of the Emperor of Grêkaland. That is a merry sport, which we have not sufficiently practised. Come with us, help us, and revenge yourselves." "No; the word of a king is sacred. We have agreed to an armistice which has still several months to run. And listen, friend Harald. Have a care and do not mistake _our_ islands for those of the Emperor. It would displease me if----" "No, no," laughed Harald, "fear nothing. We have already noticed that thy harbours and coasts are excellently guarded. And here and there thou hast erected high gallows, and affixed to them tablets inscribed with Roman runes. Thy commodore at Panormus translated it to us: "'Sea-robbers drowned, Land-robbers hanged; That is the law In Totila's land.' "And my sea-brothers have taken a great dislike to thy sticks and tablets and runes. Farewell, then, Rome-King of the Goths! May thy good-fortune endure! Farewell, lovely Queen of Night! Farewell, all you heroes! we shall meet again in Walhalla, if not sooner." And after taking a short leave, the northerners walked away. Haralda threw her falcon into the air. "Fly before us, Snotr--on deck!" And the intelligent bird flew away, swift as an arrow, straight down the river. The King and Valeria accompanied their guests halfway down the staircase; there they exchanged the last greetings. The Amazon cast one more rapid glance at Totila. Harald remarked it, and as they descended the last steps he whispered: "Little sister, it is on thy account that I left so quickly. Do not grieve about this handsome King. Thou knowest that I have inherited from our father the gift of recognising men who are fated to die. I tell thee, death by the spear hovers over this King's sunny head. He will not again see the changing of the moon." At this the strong and tender-hearted woman forced back the tears which rose into her proud eyes. Duke Guntharis, Earl Teja, and Duke Adalgoth accompanied the Goths to their boats on the Tiber, and waited until they had put off. Teja looked after them gravely. "Yes, King Frode is wise," he said. "But folly is often sweeter than truth; and grander. Go back to the terrace without me, Duke Guntharis. I see the King's despatch-boat coming up the river. I will wait and see what news it brings." "I will wait with thee, my master," said Adalgoth, looking at Teja anxiously. "Thy countenance is so terribly grave. What is the matter?" "I have a foreboding, my Adalgoth," answered Teja, putting his arm round the youth's neck. "See how rapidly the sun sets. I shudder! Let us go and meet the boat--it will land below there, where lie the ancient marble columns." Totila and Valeria had returned to the pavilion. "Wert thou moved, my beloved," asked the Roman girl with emotion, "by what that stranger said? It was--Guntharis and Teja explained it to me--of very grave import." But Totila quickly raised his head. "No, Valeria, it did not move me! I have taken great Theodoric's great work upon my shoulders. I will live and die for the dream of my youth, for my kingdom! Come--where is Adalgoth, my cup-bearer? Come; let us once more pledge a cup, Valeria--let us drink to the good fortune of the Gothic kingdom!" And he lifted up his cup; but before he could put it to his lips, Adalgoth, with a loud call, hurried up the steps followed by Teja. "King Totila," cried Adalgoth breathlessly, "prepare to hear terrible news; collect thyself----" Totila set down his cup and asked, turning pale: "What has happened?" "Thy despatch-boat has brought news from Ancona. The Emperor has broken the armistice--he has----" Teja had now drawn near. He was pale with fury. "Up, King Totila!" he cried. "Exchange the wreath for the helmet! Off Senogallia, near Ancona, a Byzantine fleet suddenly attacked our squadron which lay under the protection of the armistice. Our ships no more exist. A powerful army of the enemy has landed. And the commander-in-chief is--Cethegus the Prefect!" CHAPTER XV. In the camp of Cethegus the Prefect at Setinum, at the foot of the Apennines, a few miles north of Taginæ, Lucius Licinius, who had just arrived by sea from Epidamnus, was walking up and down, in eager conversation with Syphax, before the tent of the commander-in-chief. "My master has been anxiously expecting you, tribune, for many days," said the Moor; "he will be rejoiced to find you in the camp when he returns. He has ridden out to reconnoitre." "Whither rode he?" "Towards Taginæ, with Piso and the other tribunes." "That is the next fortified town occupied by the Goths to the south, is it not? But now, you wise Moor, tell me what happened last at Byzantium? You know that your master sent me to levy forces among the Longobardians, long before anything was decided. And as, after a dangerous journey through the country of the Longobardians and Gepidæ, I safely crossed the rapid Ister near Novæ into Justinian's kingdom, and went to fetch the promised orders of the Prefect from my host at Nicopolis, I only found a laconic command to meet him in Senogallia. I was much astonished; for I scarcely dared to hope that he would ever again, at the head of the imperial fleet and army, victoriously tread the soil of Italy. From Senogallia I followed your march hither. The few captains whom I have met in the camp told me briefly of the course of events until shortly before the arrest of Belisarius. But they could not tell me how that occurred, and what took place later. Now you----" "Yes, I know what happened almost as well as my master, for I was present." "Is it possible? Can Belisarius really have conspired against the Emperor? I could never have believed it!" Syphax smiled slyly. "I have no right to judge of that. I can only tell you exactly what happened. Listen--but come into the tent and refresh yourself. My master would scold me for letting you stand outside unattended to. And we can talk more freely inside," he added, as he closed the curtains of the tent behind him. Then begging his master's guest to be seated, he served him with fruit and wine, and began his account. "As the night of that fateful day fell, I went and hid myself in a niche of Photius's house, behind the tall statue of some Christian saint, whose name I do not know, but who had a famous broad back. I could easily look into the hall of the house through an aperture just above my head, which had been made to allow the passage of fresh air. The faint light within enabled me to distinguish a number of the aristocrats whom I had often seen in the imperial palace, and in the houses of Belisarius and Procopius. The first thing that I understood--for my master has taken care that I should learn the speech of the Greeks who call themselves Romani--was what the master of the house was saying to a man who had just then entered. 'Rejoice,' he said, 'for Belisarius comes. After scarcely deigning to look at me yesterday when, full of expectation, I stopped him in the gymnasium of Zenon, to-day he himself addressed me as I was slowly and cautiously passing his house, for I knew that he would return from the hunt towards evening. He pressed this waxen tablet into my hand, first looking round to make sure that no one observed him. And on the tablet is written: "I cannot longer withstand your appeals. Certain reasons impel me to join you. I shall come this evening." But,' continued the master of the house, 'where is Piso, where is Salvius Julianus and the other young Romans?' 'They will not be coming,' answered the man. 'I saw almost all of them in boats on the Bosphorus. They have no doubt sailed to some feast at the Prefect's villa, near the Gate of Constantine.' 'Let them go,' said Photius; 'we do not need the brutal Latins, nor the proud and false Prefect. Verily, Belisarius outweighs them all.' At that moment I saw Belisarius enter the hall. He wore an ample mantle, which entirely hid his figure. The master of the house hurried to meet him, and all present gathered respectfully around him. 'Great Belisarius,' said his freedman, 'we know how to value your compliance.' And he pressed upon Belisarius the little ivory staff which is held by the head of the assembly, and led him to the raised seat of the president, which he himself had just vacated. 'Speak--command--act--we are ready,' said Photius. 'I shall act at the right time,' answered Belisarius gloomily, and took his seat. Just then young Anicius rushed into the room with tangled hair and flying garments; a drawn sword in his hand. 'Fly!' he cried. 'We are discovered and betrayed.' Belisarius rose. 'They have forced my house,' continued Anicius. 'My slaves were taken prisoners. The weapons which I had hidden were found, and your letters and documents, and, alas, my own too, have disappeared from a hiding-place which was known only to me! And still more--as I turned into the grove of Constantine, I thought I heard the sound of whispering and the rattle of arms amongst the bushes. I am followed--save yourselves!' The conspirators rushed to the doors. Belisarius alone remained quietly standing before his chair. 'Take heart!' cried Photius. 'Follow the example of your hero-chief!' But the sound of a trumpet was heard from the great house-door, the sign for me to leave my post and join my master, who stormed into the house at the head of the imperial lance-bearers and Golden Shields, with the Prefect of Byzantium, and the archon of the palace-guard. My master looked splendid," continued Syphax enthusiastically, "as, with a flaming torch in his left hand, a sword in his right, and his crimson plume floating behind him, he rushed into the hall; so looks the fire-demon when he issues from a blazing mountain in Africa! I drew my sword and sprang to my master's left side, for he carried no shield. He had ordered me to render young Anicius harmless as soon as possible. 'Down with all who resist, in the name of Justinian!' cried my master. His sword was dripping with blood, for he had killed with his own hand the body-guards whom Belisarius had placed at the entrance of the grove. 'Yield!' he cried to the frightened crowd; 'and thou, archon of the palace, arrest _all_ the conspirators. Do you understand--_all_!' 'Is it possible! Shameless traitor!' cried Anicius, and rushed at my master with his sword. 'Yes,' he cried, 'there is the crimson crest! Die, murderer of my brother!' But the next moment he lay at our feet, severely wounded. I drew my sword out of his breast, and then disarmed Photius, who was the only one who still resisted. All the others allowed themselves to be taken like sheep bewildered by a thunder-storm. 'Bravo, Syphax!' cried my master. 'Examine his dress for any writings.' Then he turned to the archon, asking him if he were ready, for he had stopped hesitatingly opposite Belisarius, who remained perfectly quiet. 'What!' asked the archon--'must I also arrest the magister militum?' '_All_, I said. 'Do you no longer understand Greek? You see--all see--that Belisarius is at the head of the conspiracy--he holds the president's staff, he occupies the president's chair.' 'Ha!' now cried Belisarius; 'is it so! Guards! Help, help, my body-guards! Marcellus, Barbatio, Ardaburius!" 'The dead cannot hear, magister militum,' said my master. 'Yield, in the name of the Emperor! Here is his great seal. For this night he has made me his representative, and a thousand lances bristle round this house.' 'Fidelity is madness!' cried Belisarius, threw his sword away, and held out his strong arms to the archon, who put on the chains. 'Into the dungeons with all the prisoners,' said my master. 'Photius and Belisarius must be put separately into the round tower of Anastasius, in the palace. I will hasten to the Emperor and return his ring, and take him this steel'--he lifted the sword of Belisarius from the ground--'and tell him that he may sleep in peace. The conspiracy is crushed--the Empire is saved!'--The very next morning the trial for high treason was commenced. Many witnesses were heard--I amongst them. I swore that I had seen Belisarius received and heard him greeted as the head of the conspiracy. I myself had taken the tablet from the dress of Photius. Belisarius would have appealed to the testimony of his bodyguards, but they were all dead. Photius and other prisoners, submitted to the rack, confessed that Belisarius had finally consented to become the head of the conspiracy. Antonina was strictly guarded in the Red House. The Empress refused to grant the interview for which she passionately sued. It told strongly against both her and Belisarius when spies of the Empress bore witness that they had seen young Anicius steal by night into the house of Belisarius for weeks together. And it shocked the judges that Anicius himself, Antonina and Belisarius, continued obstinately to deny their guilt, although it was so fully proved. Immediately after the arrest I was sent for by my master, to tell Antonina that he had been most painfully surprised to find that Belisarius was _really_ at the head of the conspiracy; and at the same time to say that he had found not alone letters of hatred in the cistern belonging to Anicius. As I said these words, which I did not understand, the beautiful wife of Belisarius fell fainting to the ground.--We left Byzantium before Belisarius was sentenced; but Photius and most of the others were already condemned to death as we set sail with the imperial fleet for Epidamnus, where my master's tribunes and mercenaries, and the imperial forces originally intended for the Persian wars, were awaiting us. For my master had been honoured with the newly-created dignity of Magister Militum per Italium, and the command of the 'first army.' The 'second army' was to be brought after us by Prince Areobindos, when he had accomplished the easy task of overpowering the small Gothic garrisons in the towns of Epirus and the islands with a force five times their number." "What is said will be the punishment of Belisarius?" asked Lucius Licinius. "I could never have believed that that man----" "The judge will certainly condemn him to death, for his guilt is clear. But people speculate as to whether the Emperor's anger or his former affection for the general will get the victory. Most of them think that the Emperor will change the sentence of death into one of banishment and loss of sight. My master says that Belisarius's senseless denial of his guilt does him great harm. And he is also without the assistance of his wise friend Procopius, who is absent in Asia. Cethegus managed the embarkation of the troops to Epidamnus with such secrecy that the stupid Goths, who, besides, reckoned upon the armistice, were completely taken by surprise; and while the crews were sleeping on shore, the scantily-guarded Gothic fleet was taken and destroyed. But hark! here comes my master; he alone has such a proud step?" From Licinius Cethegus now learned that not only had he obtained a promise from Alboin, the Longobardian chief, that he would come to the help of Cethegus with twenty thousand men (a number which the latter, always jealous, found almost too great), but that he had succeeded in engaging other warlike troops of mercenaries. Cethegus, on his side, informed Lucius that, although he had been able to relieve Ravenna, he had met with much hindrance on the part of his own countrymen, who were slow to rise in revolt against the Goths; and that only with the Byzantines under his command, it would be impossible to beat Totila. He complained bitterly of the delay of Areobindos in bringing up the "second army," and regretted that he had been unable to reach Taginæ before Earl Teja, who had beaten the Saracens there posted with great loss, and had taken up a strong position in the expectation of being speedily joined by King Totila with the army. "And Taginæ is the key of the position," concluded Cethegus. "Earl Teja must have flown from Rome on the wings of the wind! I have tried to-day to ascertain the strength of his garrison, but I could not penetrate beyond Capræ. The barbarian King is already on the march, and where, oh! where tarries my 'second army?'" CHAPTER XVI. The next day Totila reached Taginæ, accompanied by Valeria and Julius. He had hastened forward to join Teja with a portion of his troops, while Wisand and Guntharis reached him later with the main army. Only after their arrival could any attack be made upon the very strong position of the Prefect. Cethegus, too, attempted no assault, but while thus inactive, awaiting his "second army," he once more, and in vain, endeavoured to regain the lost affection of Julius. He went to Taginæ to meet him at a spot between the outposts of the opposing forces. He tried all possible means to induce him to return to his allegiance, even unveiling the history of his past life. The mother of Julius had once been betrothed to Cethegus, but her father had been persuaded by Duke Alaric to break off the match, and to give her in marriage to a Gothic noble. On the day of her wedding, Cethegus, mad with grief, had tried to carry her off by force, but, overpowered by numbers, had been struck down, and thrown, seemingly lifeless, on the banks of the Tiber. Many years after, he had found Julius, a young boy, forsaken, with his dying mother, in their villa on the banks of the Rhodus, which had been sacked by bands of marauders. From that moment Cethegus had adopted the son of his lost bride.--But in vain he now appealed to the gratitude of his adopted son. Julius not only recoiled with horror from any further connection with a man whose ruthless hands were stained with blood, but his deepening religious feeling separated him entirely from the avowed atheist. And, blow upon blow, Cethegus was disappointed in another matter. The "second army" was at last reported as approaching. Syphax brought the news; he had ridden night and day in order to reach the Prefect before this army should arrive, for at its head was, not Areobindos, but--_Narses_. Vexed and alarmed, Cethegus left his camp, and rode forward to meet Narses, with whom he found Alboin, the Longobardian chief. Narses received him with marked coolness, and at once explained to him that he could suffer no rival in his camp; that Cethegus must either serve under him as one of his generals, or remain inactive as his _guest_. Clearly seeing that he must either submit or be a prisoner, Cethegus at once affirmed that he considered it an honour to serve under Narses, and together the generals reached a favourable position between Helvillum and Taginæ. And a mighty army was that of Narses, with which he had advanced from the north and east in terrible strides, driving before him the Goths from position to position, making no prisoners, but inexorably annihilating all who stood in his way. Totila had but a small force to oppose to these numbers, for his army had been fearfully diminished; and now, when the Italians foresaw the probable consequences of the renewed war, and that the Goths were being slowly but surely overcome, they ceased to rally round Totila's flag, and even, where they felt themselves safe, betrayed the hiding-places of the Gothic people to the Byzantines. The persecuted Gothic families fled, and sought protection in the camp of Totila, who, fearing the famine sure to be caused by the accumulation of helpless masses, sent them still farther south to those parts of the peninsula yet uninvaded by Narses. Surrounded by his Earls, Totila now formed a plan by which he intended to entice the centre of the army of Narses (which was held by the Longobardians) into an ambush between Capræ and Taginæ. Reckoning upon the headlong valour of the Longobardians, Totila determined to place the full half of his troops in the town of Capræ, leaving the other half in Taginæ. Totila himself, with his small troop of horsemen, would advance beyond Capræ against the Longobardians; and at the moment of attack, would turn, feigning a sudden panic; would gallop back through the gates of Capræ (the troops there remaining concealed in the houses), and thus draw on the Longobardians to pursue him into the narrow road, between low hills, which lay between Capræ and Taginæ. At this spot Totila would place in ambush a troop of Persian horsemen, which had been unexpectedly brought to him by his old friend and rival, Furius Ahalla, who had orders, when the Longobardians were fairly taken in the trap, to issue from their ambush, and annihilate them. Totila counted upon the fidelity of Ahalla, who was bound to him by strong ties of gratitude in spite of the defeat he had suffered in his suit of Valeria. This plan of Totila was highly approved of by Hildebrand, and all the warriors who shared his counsels. The evening before the day of its execution all was in readiness. Furius Ahalla and his horsemen were posted in the narrow road, the "Flaminian Way." Earl Thorismuth himself went out to make sure that they had punctually obeyed orders. When he returned to Totila's camp, he brought word that Furius Ahalla begged Totila to delay his attack and feigned flight on the morrow, until three hundred of his best men, who had been delayed on the march, should have joined him; of which event he would immediately apprise Totila outside the gates of Capræ. "Well," said Totila, smiling, "I will await the proper moment, and meantime entertain the Longobardians by my feats of horsemanship. To-morrow, Teja, God will decide the right. Thou sayest there is no God but necessity. I say there is a living God--my victory to-morrow shall prove it." "Stay," cried Julius, who was present, "ye shall not tempt the Lord!" "Seest thou," cried Teja, as he rose and took up his shield, "Julius fears for his God!" CHAPTER XVII. Brilliantly arose the sun on the next morning, casting its first beams over the warlike movement in the Gothic camp. As the King issued from his dwelling in the marketplace of Taginæ, Adalgoth, Thorismuth, and Phaza hurried to meet him with his milk-white charger, sent, together with a magnificent suit of armour, by Valeria, his bride. His arms rang as the King swung himself into the saddle. His grooms led up two other horses in reserve, one of which was Pluto, the Prefect's restless and fiery charger. From Totila's shoulders flowed his long white mantle, held together at the neck by a broad and heavy clasp set with precious stones. His cuirass was of shining silver, richly inlaid with gold, the figure of a flying swan upon the breast. The edges of the cuirass at the neck, arms, and belt, were bound with red silk. Beneath it showed the coat of white silk, reaching over the thighs. Broad gold bracelets and silvered gauntlets protected his arms and hands; greaves his knees and the top of his feet. His narrow and gracefully-shaped shield was divided into three fields of silver, gold, and crimson. On the golden field the figure of the flying swan was wrought in white enamel. The caparison and reins of his horse were set with silver and embroidered with red silk. In his right hand the King held a spear, to the point of which Valeria had fastened four streamers of red and white riband; merrily they fluttered in the morning breeze. Thus brilliantly arrayed, the King rode through the streets of Taginæ at the head of his horsemen. Earl Thorismuth, Phaza, and Duke Adalgoth, and also Julius, rode in his train. Julius carried no weapons, but he bore a shield forged by Teja. Never had Totila shone in such beauty! The people greeted him upon his way with shouts of joy. At the northern gate of Taginæ, Aligern came riding towards him. "I thought that thy place was with the right wing," said the King. "What brings thee here?" "My cousin Teja has ordered me to remain at thy side and guard thy life." "My Teja is untiring in his care of me!" cried the King. Aligern joined the escort. Earl Thorismuth now undertook the command of the footmen who were hidden in the houses of Taginæ. Outside the gate, the King rode to the front of his not very numerous troop of horsemen, and disclosed his plan to the captains. "I entrust to you, comrades, the most difficult of all tasks--flight! But the flight will be only seeming. What is true, is your courage and the destruction of the foe." And now the small troop rode forward past the place of ambush on the Flaminian Way, the King convincing himself that the Persian horsemen were in readiness upon both the wooded heights. The ambush on the right was commanded by Furius himself, that on the left by his chief, Isdigerd. Totila now rode into Capræ through the southern gate, and admonished the bowmen under Earl Wisand not to issue from the houses in which they were concealed, until the Persian horsemen had fallen upon the Longobardians from their ambush, but then immediately to sally out of the southern gate, while at the same time the spear-bearers would advance against the enemy from the northern gate of Taginæ. "Thus the Longobardians and such of Narses' foot who have pressed forward between Capræ and Taginæ will be surrounded on all sides and crushed. I and Thorismuth attack in front, Furius and Isdigerd on both flanks, and Wisand in the rear. They will be lost!" "Does he not look like the sun-god?" Adalgoth delightedly asked Julius. "Peace! Make no idol of sun or man! Besides, to-day is the solstice!" answered Julius. At length the King reached the northern gate of Capræ, left it open behind him, and galloped out with his little troop upon the level land between Capræ and Helvillum. Here Narses had placed his centre; foremost Alboin with his Longobardians. Behind these, at a considerable distance, stood Narses in his litter, surrounded by Cethegus, Liberius, Auzalas, and other leaders. Narses had had a bad night, disturbed by slight fits. He was very weak, and could not stand up for any length of time in his low and open litter. He had strictly admonished Alboin not to advance to the attack without special orders. King Totila gave a sign to his horsemen, and at a trot the thin line advanced towards the far superior ranks of the Longobardians. "They surely will not shame us by attacking us with only a few lances?" cried Alboin. But an attack did not seem to be the present object of the King. He had ridden far in advance of his men, who had suddenly halted, and now attracted all eyes by his feats of horsemanship. The spectacle which he afforded was so wonderful in the eyes of the Byzantines, that the witnesses related it in astonishment to Procopius, who, himself amazed, has remitted it to us. "On this day," he writes, "King Totila evidently wished to show his enemies what manner of man he was. His weapons and his horse shone with gold. So many shining red streamers fluttered from the point of his spear that this ornament alone announced the King from a distance. Thus, mounted on a splendid charger, in the space between the two armies, did he indulge in a skilful exercise of arms. Now he rode in a circle; now he caracoled in semicircles to the right and left; now he hurled his spear into the air, as he rode off at full gallop, and caught it by the middle of the shaft as it fell quivering, first with his right hand, and then with his left; and thus he showed to the wondering troops his feats of horsemanship." After the battle, however, the Byzantines learned the true reason of this merry sport. For a time Alboin looked on quietly. Then he said to a Longobardian chief who stood near him: "That fellow rides to the battle-field adorned like a bridegroom! What costly armour! We do not see the like at home, Gisulf. And not to dare to attack! Does Narses again sleep?" CHAPTER XVIII. At last a Persian horseman, making his way through the ranks of the Goths, galloped up to the King, gave a message, and galloped back again at full speed. "At last!" cried Totila. "Now enough of sport! Brave Alboin, son of Audoin," he loudly cried across to the enemy's ranks, "wilt thou really fight for the Greeks against us? Then come on, O King's son--it is a King who calls thee?" Alboin could no longer restrain his impatience. "Mine must he be with armour and horse!" he shouted, and spurred forward with his lance couched. Totila, with a gentle pressure of his thigh, brought his horse to a sudden standstill. It seemed that he intended to stand the shock. Alboin came on at a furious gallop. Another slight pressure of Totila's thigh, a clever spring to one side, and the Longobardian, who could not check his horse, rushed far past his adversary. But the next moment Totila was at Alboin's back; he could easily have bored him through with his spear. The Longobardians, seeing the danger of their chief, uttered loud cries and hurried to his assistance. But Totila whirled his lance round, and contented himself with giving his adversary such a thrust in the left side with the shaft end, that Alboin fell headlong out of his saddle on the right side of his horse. Totila quietly rode back to his troop, waving his spear over his head in triumph. Alboin had remounted, and now led his troop against the thin ranks of the Goths. But just before the shock of meeting, the King cried, "Fly! fly into the town!" turned his horse's head, and galloped away towards Capræ. His horsemen followed him. For one moment Alboin halted in perplexity. But the next he cried: "It is nothing else; it is a pure flight! There they run into the gate! Yes, feats of horsemanship are one thing, and fighting is another. After them, my wolves! into the town!" And the Longobardians galloped forwards to Capræ, burst open the northern gate--which had been closed, but not bolted, by the flying Goths--and rushed through the long street towards the southern gate, through which the last Goth was just disappearing. Narses had till now stood upright in his litter with difficulty, observing all that passed. "Halt!" he angrily cried. "Halt! Blow the trumpets! Sound the retreat! It is the most clumsy trap in the world! But this Alboin thinks that if any one runs away from him, it must be in earnest!" But the trumpeters blew in vain. The cries of victory uttered by the pursuing Longobardians, drowned the blast of the trumpets; or those that heard it disregarded it. Narses groaned as he saw the last ranks of the Longobardians disappear into the Gate of Capræ. "Oh!" he sighed; "those blockheads oblige me to commit a folly with open eyes. I cannot let them suffer for their stupidity as they deserve. I still need them. Therefore, forward, in the name of nonsense! Before we can overtake them, they may be already half destroyed! Forward, Cethegus, Anzalas, and Liberius! Take the Isaurians, Armenians, and Illyrians, and get into Capræ. But reflect that the town _cannot_ be empty. It is a snare, into which we follow those blind bulls with open eyes. I will come after in my litter; but I can stand no more." And he sank back into his seat, terribly fatigued. A slight convulsion, such as he often experienced when excited, shook his frame. The footmen of Cethegus and Liberius advanced towards the town at a rapid march, the two leaders riding in front. Meanwhile pursued and pursuers had rushed through the little town, and the last Longobardians had passed Capræ, while the first, with Alboin, had reached that part of the Flaminian Way where the two hills bounded and confined the road on the right and left. The King galloped forward another horse's length; then he halted, turned, and gave a sign. Adalgoth, who rode at his side, blew his horn, and out of the northern gate of Taginæ issued Thorismuth and his spear-bearers, while from the double ambush on the hills the Persian horsemen of the Corsican burst out with a yell and a blast of cornets. "Now wheel about, my Goths! Forward to the charge! Woe to the befooled!" cried Totila. Alboin looked helplessly round. "We have never before trotted into anything so evil, my wolves!" he said. He would have retreated, but now Gothic footmen issued likewise from the southern gate of Capræ, blocking the way back. "There is nothing for it but to die merrily, Gisulf! Greet Rosimunda, if thou escapest!" And he turned to meet one of the leaders of the Persian horsemen, who, distinguished by a richly-gilded open helm, had now reached the road, and was advancing straight upon him. As he came up to Alboin, he of the gilded helmet cried: "Turn, Longobardian! yonder stands our common foe! _Down with the Goths!_" And he ran his sword through a Gothic horseman who was aiming a stroke at Alboin. And now the Persian horsemen, galloping past the Longobardians, attacked the horrified Goths. For a moment the latter halted, taken by surprise. But when they saw that it was no mistake--that the ambush was against _them_, and not against the Longobardians--they cried, "Treachery, treachery! all is lost!" and, this time in unfeigned flight, rushed back to Taginæ, carrying everything along with them, even their own footmen, who were just issuing from the gate. Even the King changed countenance when he saw the Corsican strike at the Goths at Alboin's side. "Yes, it is treachery!" he cried. "Ha! the tiger! Down with him!" And he rushed at the Corsican. But before he could reach him, Isdigerd the Persian had stormed into the road from the left between the King and Furius. "Aim at the King!" he cried to his men. "All spears at the King! There he is, the white one! With the swan on his helmet! Down with him!" A hail of spears whistled through the air. In a moment the King's shield bristled with darts. By this time the Corsican had recognised the tall and glittering figure in the distance. "It is he! I will have his heart's blood!" And he forced his way through his own and Isdigerd's men. The two enraged adversaries were now separated only by a few feet. But Totila had turned against Isdigerd. Pierced in the neck by the King's spear, the chief fell dead to the ground. And now Totila and Furius met. The Corsican aimed his spear full at the King's unprotected face. But suddenly the glittering helmet and the white mantle had disappeared. Two spears had struck the white horse, and at the same time a third pierced the King's shield and wounded his left arm severely. Horse and man fell. Isdigerd's Persians raised a wild cry of exultation and pressed forward. Furius and Alboin spurred their horses. "Spare the King's life! take him prisoner! He spared me!" cried Alboin. For he had been greatly touched when Gisulf told him that he distinctly saw the King change the point of his spear for the shaft. "No! Down with Totila!" cried Furius. And he hurled his spear at the wounded man, whom Aligern was trying to lift upon the Prefect's horse and lead out of the fight. Julius caught the Corsican's first spear upon Teja's proven shield. Furius called for a second, and aimed at the press around the King; Phaza, the Armenian, tried to parry the stroke and received the spear in his heart. Then Furius, who had now spurred close up, raised his long and crooked scimetar against the King. But before the stroke could fall the Corsican fell backwards from his saddle. The young Duke of Apulia had thrust the staff of his banner with such force against Ahalla's breast that the wood was shattered. And now Totila's banner--the costly work of Valeria and her women--was in the greatest danger in Adalgoth's hands. For all the enemy's horse pressed upon the bold young standard-bearer; a stroke of Gisulf's axe struck the staff and broke it again--Adalgoth tore off the silken flag and tucked it into his sword-belt. Alboin had now come up, and cried: "Yield, thou King of the Goths--to me, a King's son!" Aligern had just succeeded in lifting the King on to the Prefect's horse; he turned to the Longobardian, who, wishing to stay the King's flight but to save his life, aimed a stroke at the latter's horse with his spear. But the next moment Aligern had cleft Alboin's vulture-winged helmet, and, stunned, the latter wavered in his saddle. Thus, the leaders of their enemies being for the moment repulsed, Adalgoth, Aligern, and Julius had time to lead the King out of the tumult as far as the northern gate of Taginæ. From this place the King would have conducted the battle, but he could scarcely hold himself upright in his saddle. "Thorismuth," he said, "thou must defend Taginæ; for the present Capræ is lost. Let a mounted messenger fetch the whole of Hildebrand's wing here; the road to Rome must be kept open at all costs. Teja, as I learned, has already joined in the battle with his left wing.--To defend the retreat to the south--is our last hope!" And, saying this, he swooned away. But Earl Thorismuth said: "I and my spearmen will defend Taginæ to the last man. Not a foe shall get in here; neither the Persians nor the Longobardians. I will protect the King's life as long as I can raise a finger. Take him farther back; into the mountain--into the cloister but make haste, for there, from the Gate of Capræ, come the enemy's foot--and, look there!--Cethegus the Prefect with his Isaurians! Capræ and our bowmen are lost!" And so it was. Wisand, obeying his orders, had not defended Capræ, but had allowed Cethegus and Liberius to enter, and only when they were fairly inside the town did he begin the fight in the streets, at the same time sending a thousand of his men out of the southern gate to attack the Longobardians. But, as the ambuscades had fallen upon the Goths instead of the Longobardians; as Alboin and Furius united in dispersing or annihilating the few Gothic horsemen, and the attack intended by the spearmen from Taginæ did not take place; the Gothic bowmen, first in Capræ itself, and then on the Flaminian Way, between Capræ and Taginæ, were quickly crushed by superior force. Wisand escaped as if by a miracle, and, though wounded, reached Taginæ and reported the annihilation of his troops. Narses was carried into Capræ, and the Illyrians began to storm Taginæ. Earl Thorismuth resisted heroically. He fought his best in order to cover the retreat of his comrades. He was presently reinforced by a few thousand men from Hildebrand's left wing, who now hurried up, while the old master-at-arms led the greater part of his troops southwards beyond Taginæ upon the high-road to Rome. Just as the storming of Taginæ was about to commence, Cethegus met Furius and Alboin, who had recovered from the blows they had received. Cethegus had heard of the course pursued by the Corsican, which had decided the fate of the battle. He shook him by the hand. "Well done, friend Furius! At last on the right side, and against the barbarian King!" "He must not escape alive!" growled the Corsican. "What? How? He still lives! I thought that--he had fallen," said Cethegus hastily. "No; they managed to rescue him after he was wounded." "He must not live!" cried Cethegus. "Then you are right! It is of more importance than to win Taginæ. Narses can manage that heroic work from his litter. He has seventy to one. Up, Furius! Why do your horsemen stand idle here?" "The animals cannot ride up the walls!" "No; but they can swim. Up! take three hundred yourself, and give me three hundred. Two roads lead right and left from the little town over--no! they have broken down the bridges--they lead _through_ the Clasius and the Sibola--let us take these roads. The wounded King is certainly--can he still fight?" "Hardly." "Then he has fled beyond Taginæ--to Rome or--" "No; to his bride!" cried Furius. "Most certainly to Valeria in the cloister. Ha! I will stab him in her very arms! Up, Persians! follow me. Thanks, Prefect! Take as many horsemen as you like. And ride to the right--I will ride to the left round the town; for both roads lead to the cloister." And, wheeling to the left, he disappeared. Cethegus ordered the rest of the horsemen to follow him, speaking in the Persian language. Then he rode up to Liberius and said: "I will take the Gothic King prisoner." "What? He still lives? Then make haste!" "Meanwhile you can take this Taginæ," continued Cethegus; "I will leave you my Isaurians." And he galloped away with Syphax and three hundred Persians. Meantime the wounded King had been taken by his friends out of Taginæ into a little pine-wood near the road, where he drank from a spring and gradually revived. "Julius," he said, "ride on to Valeria; tell her that the battle is lost, but not the kingdom. That I am alive and still hope. As soon as I feel a little stronger I shall ride up to the Spes Bonorum. I ordered Teja and Hildebrand there when they had finished their tasks. It is a high and safe position. Go, I beg thee; comfort Valeria and take her also from the cloister to Spes Bonorum. Thou wilt not? Then I must myself ride up the difficult road--surely thou wilt spare me that?" Julius was reluctant to leave the wounded man. "Oh, relieve me from my helmet and mantle! they are so heavy," said Totila. Julius took them from him and gave him his own mantle. CHAPTER XIX. All at once a thought flashed across the mind of the monk; had they not once before exchanged garments--the Dioscuri? Had he not once before drawn the murderous steel directed at Totila's heart upon himself? He thought they were followed. It seemed to him that he heard horses approaching, and Aligern--Adalgoth held the King's head upon his knees--had hastened to the edge of the wood to look. "Yes, it is they," he cried as he returned; "Persian horsemen are riding up from both sides of the wood!" "Then make haste, Julius," begged Totila; "save Valeria! Take her to Teja at the sarcophagus." "I will make all speed, my friend! Farewell till we meet again!" And Julius once more pressed Totila's hand. Then he mounted Pluto--he chose the wounded horse, leaving his own, which was unhurt. Unseen by Totila, he set the helmet with its silver swan upon his head, folded the white mantle around him, and galloped out of the wood towards the cloister hill. "This road," he thought, "is open and undefended, while the road which the King will take to the Spes Bonorum leads through wood and vineyard. Perhaps I shall succeed in attracting the pursuers away from him." And, in fact, he had no sooner issued from beneath the trees, and begun to ride up the hill, than he saw that the horsemen who had come from beyond Taginæ were eagerly following him. In order to keep the pursuers away from the King, and from discovering their error, he urged his horse to its full speed. But the animal was wounded, and the way was very steep. Nearer and nearer came the pursuers. "Is it he?" "Yes, it is he." "No, it is not. He is too short," said the leader of the troop, who rode foremost. "Would he fly alone?" "That would be the best way to escape," observed the leader. "It is he most surely; I see the silver swan on his helmet!" "And the white mantle!" "But he rode a white horse," said the leader. "Yes, at first," said one of the horsemen; "but when it fell, struck by my spear, they lifted him--I was close by--upon that charger." "Enough," said the leader, "you are right. I recognise the horse." "A noble animal! How it keeps on, and up hill, too, although wounded." "Yes, he is a noble animal! And I will make him stop. Pay attention! Halt, Pluto!" he shouted. "On your knees!" Snorting and trembling, the clever, obedient animal, in spite of spur and blows, stood stockstill, and slowly bent its fore-legs in the sand. "It is ruin, barbarian, to ride the Prefect's horse! There, take that for the Forum! and that for the Capitol! and that for Julius!" And the Prefect--for he it was--furiously hurled three spears one after the other, his own and two carried by Syphax, at the back of his victim, and with such force that they passed completely through the fugitive's body. Then Cethegus sprang from his horse, drew his sword, and taking the fallen man by the back of his helmet, dragged up his head from the earth. "Julius!" he screamed in horror. "You, O Cethegus!" Julius could just murmur. "Julius! you must not, must not die!" And Cethegus passionately tried to stanch the blood that issued from the three wounds. "If you love me," said the dying man, "save him--save Totila!" And his gentle eyes closed for ever. Cethegus put his hand upon the heart of the dead man; he laid his ear upon the bared breast. "All is over!" he then said, in a faint voice. "O Manilia! Julius, I loved thee! And he died with _his_ name upon his lips! All is over!" he cried again, but this time in a voice of anger; "the last bond which united me to human love I have myself cut, deceived by mocking accident! It was my last weakness! And now all tender feeling, be dead to me! Lift him on to the horse.--This, my Pluto, shall be your last service.--Take him--up there I see a chapel--take him there, and let him be buried with all ceremony by the priests. Merely say that he died as a monk--that he died for his friend. He deserves a Christian burial. But I," he added, with a terrible expression on his face, "I will once more seek his friend; I will unite them without delay--and for ever." And he mounted his horse. "Whither?" asked Syphax. "Back to Taginæ?" "No! down into that wood. He must be hidden there, for thence came Julius." During these occurrences the King had recovered, and now rode with Adalgoth, Aligern, and a few riders, straight out of the wood, on the outer edge of which the road ascended to the chapel hill. As they issued from the trees they could distinctly perceive the walls of the building. But they themselves had been seen, for they heard a yell to their right, and over the open level a numerous troop of horsemen came galloping towards them from the river. The King recognised the leader, and before his companions could prevent him, he spurred his horse, couched his spear, and rushed to meet his enemy. Like two thunderbolts from the lowering heavens, the two horsemen crashed together. "Insolent barbarian!" "Miserable traitor!" And both fell from their horses. They had met with such fury, that neither of them had thought of defending himself, but only of overthrowing his adversary. Furius Ahalla had fallen dead, for the King had pierced him to the heart through gilded shield and breastplate with such force, that the shaft of the spear had broken in the wound. But the King also sank dying into Adalgoth's arms. Ahalla's lance had entered his breast just below his throat. Adalgoth tore Valerians blue banner out of his belt and tried to stanch the streaming blood--in vain; the bright blue was at once dyed deep red. "Gothia!" breathed Totila, "Italia! Valeria!" At this moment, before the unequal fight could commence, Alboin arrived upon the spot with his Longobardians. He had followed the Prefect, not being inclined to remain idle while the fight was going on round the walls of Taginæ. The Longobardian looked silently and with emotion at the corpse of the King. "He gave me my life--I could not save his," he said gravely. One of his horsemen pointed to the rich armour worn by the dead man. "No," said Alboin, "this royal hero must be buried with all his royal trappings." "There, Alboin, on the rocky height above us," said Adalgoth, "his bride and his tomb, self-chosen, have waited for him long." "Take him up! I will give safe-conduct to the noble corpse and the noble bearers. Now, my men, follow me back to the fight!" CHAPTER XX. But the fight was over: as Alboin and the Prefect discovered, to their great disgust, when they again reached Taginæ. The Prefect, just as he had entered the pine-wood and was about to follow the King's track, had been overtaken by a messenger from Liberius, who sent word for him to return immediately. Narses was insensible, and the peril of the situation necessitated immediate counsel. Narses insensible--Liberius perplexed--the victory they had thought certain, endangered--these circumstances weighed more with the Prefect than the doubtful expectation of dealing the death-stroke to the half-dead King. In haste Cethegus galloped back to Taginæ the way that he had come. When he reached the town he found Liberius, who cried: "Too late! I have already settled and agreed to everything. A truce! The rest of the Goths march off!" "What?" thundered Cethegus--he would gladly have poured all the blood of the Goths upon the grave of his darling as a sacrifice. "They march? A truce? Where is Narses?" "He lies insensible in his litter; he has been taken with severe convulsions. The fright, the surprise--it prostrated him, and no wonder." "What surprise? Speak, man!" And Liberius briefly related how they had forced their way into Taginæ with fearful loss of blood, "for the Goths stood like a wall"--had been obliged to storm house by house, even room by room--"we were obliged to hack to pieces by inches one of their leaders, who ran Anzalas through as he leaped into the first breach, before we could force our way into the town over his body." "Who was he?" asked Cethegus earnestly. "I hope Earl Teja?" "No; Earl Thorismuth. When we had finished our bloody work, and Narses was about to let himself be carried into the town, he met in the gate a messenger from our left wing--which no more exists! It was Zeuxippos, wounded, and accompanied by Gothic heralds." "Who has----?" "He whom you just named--Earl Teja! He guessed or learned that Zeuxippos was threatening his centre, that the King was wounded--and, well knowing that he would arrive too late to turn the course of events at Taginæ, he came to a bold and desperate resolution. He suddenly gave up his post of expectation on the hills, threw himself upon our left wing, which was slowly advancing up the hill opposite to him, beat it at the first onset, pursued the fugitives into their camp, and there made prisoners of ten thousand of our men, and all the captains, amongst them my Orestes and Zeuxippos. He sent Gothic heralds to Narses, who took Zeuxippos with them to witness to the truth of what they said, and demanded an immediate truce of twenty-four hours." "Impossible!" "Otherwise he swore to slay all his ten thousand prisoners---together with the captains." "That is no matter," observed Cethegus. "It may be no matter to you, Roman--what matters to you a myriad of our troops?--but not so to Narses. The terrible surprise, the still more terrible necessity of making a choice, quite prostrated him. A severe attack of his malady came on, and as he sank down, he gave me his commander's staff, and I, of course, accepted the conditions----" "Of course, Pylades must save Orestes!" said Cethegus in a rage. "And, besides, ten thousand men of the imperial army!" "I am not bound by this agreement," cried Cethegus; "I shall again attack." "You dare not! Teja has taken most of his prisoners and all the captains with him as hostages--he will slay them if another arrow be shot?" "Let him slay them! I shall attack." "See whether the Byzantines will follow you! I at once communicated the order of Narses to your troops: for now _I_ am Narses." "You shall die, as soon as Narses has recovered his senses!" But Cethegus perceived that he could do nothing against the Goths with his mercenaries alone. For when Teja had retreated to the cloister and chapel hill and the Flaminian Way with his prisoners, and Hildebrand's wing had also reached the road with little loss of life--for the two rivers, and then the news of the truce, had checked the pursuit attempted by Johannes--the Goths had gathered the rest of their troops together and taken up a safe position. Cethegus waited with impatience for the recovery of Narses, who he hoped would never acknowledge the agreement concluded by his representative. CHAPTER XXI. Meanwhile Teja and Hildebrand had arrived upon the chapel hill, whither, as they had been apprised, the wounded King had been carried. News of later events had not yet reached them. Before they entered the walls which enclosed the grove before the chapel, the two leaders had agreed upon the plan which they would propose to the King. There was no other way but to retreat to the south under the protection of the truce. But when they entered the grove, what a sight met their view! Sobbing loudly, Adalgoth hurried up to Teja, and led him to an ancient and ivy-grown sarcophagus. Within it, upon his shield, lay King Totila. The majesty of death gave to his noble features a solemnity that made them more beautiful than they had ever been when brightened by joy. On his left hand rested Julius, in the open hollow cover of the sarcophagus, which had long since fallen from its proper place. Under the common shadow of death, the resemblance between the "Dioscuri" was more striking and touching than ever. And between the two friends lay a third form, which had been carefully laid by Gotho and Liuta upon the King's blood-stained mantle. Upon a gently-rising mound lay Valeria, the Roman virgin. Fetched from the neighbouring cloister to receive her lover, she had thrown herself, without a scream, without even a sigh, upon the broad shield with its solemn burthen, which Adalgoth and Aligern were carrying through the gate with sad and slow steps. Before any one could speak, she had cried: "I know all--he is dead!" She had assisted them to lay the corpse in the sarcophagus, and while so occupied she had repeated to herself, in a low voice, these words: "'Him too thou seest, how stalwart, tall, and fair! Yet must he yield to death and stubborn fate, Whene'er, at morn or noon or eve, the spear Or arrow from the bow may rend his life. Then may I, too, visit th' eternal shades!" Then, without haste, quietly and slowly, she drew a dagger from her girdle, and with the words, "Here, stern Christian God, take my soul! thus I fulfil the vow!" the Roman maiden thrust the sharp steel into her bosom. Cassiodorus, a little cross of cedar in his hand, went, deeply moved--the tears trickled down his venerable white beard--from corpse to corpse, repeating the prayers of the Church. And the pious women of the cloister, who had accompanied Valeria, began the simple and noble chant: "Vis ac splendor seculorum, Belli laus et flos amorum Labefacta mox marcescunt; Dei laus et gratia sine Ævi termino vel fine In eternum perflorescunt." Gradually the grove had become filled with warriors, who had followed their leaders. Among them were Earls Wisand and Markja. Teja heard the report of the weeping Adalgoth in silence. Then he went close to the King's corpse. Without a tear, he laid his mailed right hand upon the King's wounded breast, bent over him, and whispered: "I will complete the work." Then he went back and took his place under a mighty tree, which rose above a forgotten grave-mound, and spoke to the little group of soldiers who stood silently and reverently round the dead. "Gothic men! the battle is lost, and the kingdom likewise. Whoever will now go to Narses, whoever will subject himself to the Emperor, I will not keep him back. But I am resolved to fight to the end; not for victory, but to die the free death of a hero. Whoever wishes to share this fate with me, may remain. You all wish it? 'Tis well." Hildebrand interposed. "The King has fallen. The Goths cannot--even to die--fight without a King. Athalaric, Witichis, Totila--_one_ only can be the fourth; only one is worthy to succeed these three; thou, Teja, our last, our greatest hero!" "Yes," said Teja; "I will be your King. Under me you shall not live joyfully; you shall only die greatly. Be still! No cry of joy, no clang of arms must greet me. Whoever will have me for his King, let him do as I do." And he broke a small branch from the tree under which he stood, and twisted it round his helmet. All silently followed his example. Adalgoth, who stood next him, whispered: "O King Teja! it is a cypress bough! Thus is crowned a victim doomed to sacrifice!" "Yes, my Adalgoth, thou speakest prophecy;" and Teja swung his sword in a circle round his head. "Doomed to death!" BOOK VI. TEJA "I have now to describe a most remarkable battle, and the high heroism of the man who was inferior to none of the heroes--of Teja."--_Procopius: Gothic War_, iv. 35. CHAPTER I. The destiny of the Goths was soon to be fulfilled. The rolling stone approached the abyss. When Narses came to his senses and learned what had taken place, he gave orders at once to arrest Liberius and send him to Byzantium to answer for his conduct. "I will not say," he said to his confidant, Basiliskos, "that he has come to a false decision. I myself could not have done otherwise. But I should have done it for different reasons. _His_ only wish was to save his friend and the ten thousand prisoners. That was wrong. Situated as he was, he ought to have sacrificed them, for he could not overlook the actual condition of the war. He did not know, as I know, that after this battle the Gothic kingdom is lost--whether it be completely destroyed at Rome or Neapolis is indifferent--and that alone would have been, and is, the reason for which the ten thousand should be saved." "At Neapolis? But why not at Rome? Do you not remember the formidable fortifications of the Prefect? Why should not the Goths throw themselves into Rome and resist for months?" "Why? Because things are very different with regard to Rome. But the Goths know this as little as Liberius. And Cethegus--above all--must know nothing of it yet; therefore be silent. Where is the Prefect of Rome?" "He has hastened forward, in order to be the first to conduct the pursuit as soon as the time of truce has expired." "Surely you have taken care----" "Do not doubt it! He would have marched with his Isaurians alone, but I--that is, Liberius at my order--gave him Alboin and the Longobardians as companions, and you know----" "Yes," said Narses, with a smile, "my wolves will not lose sight of him." "But how long shall he----" "As long as he is necessary to me; not an hour longer. So the young and royal wonder-worker lies upon his shield! Now may Justinian rightly call himself 'Gothicus,' and again sleep peacefully. But truly--he will never more sleep peacefully--that disappointed widower----" So the two generals, Narses and Teja, were of one opinion with regard to the Gothic kingdom. It was lost. The flower of the Goths had fallen at Capræ and Taginæ. Totila had placed there five-and-twenty thousand men; not even a thousand had escaped. The two wings of the army had also suffered great loss; and so King Teja commenced his retreat to the south with scarcely twenty thousand men. He was urged to the greatest speed by the calls for help sent by the little army under Duke Guntharis and Earl Grippa, who were hard pressed by the greater force of the Byzantines under the command of Armatus and Dorotheos, who had landed between Rome and Neapolis. And besides this, Teja's retreat was also precipitated because of the terrible manner in which, when the truce was ended, he was pursued by Narses. While the Longobardians and Cethegus pursued the fugitives without pause, Narses slowly followed with the main army, spreading to the right and left his two formidable wings, which extended in the south-west far beyond the Sub-urbicarian Tuscany to the Tyrrhenian sea, and in the north-east through Picenum to the Ionian Gulf, extinguishing as they passed from north to south and from west to east, every trace of the Goths behind them. This proceeding was considerably facilitated by the now general desertion of the Gothic cause on the part of the Italians. The benevolent King, who had once won their sympathies, had been succeeded by a gloomy hero of terrible reputation. And all who hesitated were speedily drawn over to the other side, not by inclination to the rule of Byzantium, but from fear of Narses and of the Emperor's severity, who threatened all who took the part of the barbarians with death. The Italians who still served in Teja's army now deserted and hastened to Narses. It also happened much more frequently than before the battle of Taginæ, that Gothic settlers were betrayed to the Romani by their Italian neighbours, generally by the _hospes_, who had been obliged to relinquish a third of his property to the Goths; or, where the Italians were in the majority, the Goths were either killed, or taken prisoners and delivered up to the two Byzantine fleets, the "Tyrrhenian" and the "Ionian," which, sailing along the coasts of those seas, accompanied the march of the land forces and received all the captured Goths on board--men, women, and children. The forts and towns, weakly garrisoned--for Teja had been obliged to strengthen his small army by lessening their numbers--generally fell by means of the Italian population, who now overpowered the Gothic garrison, as, after Totila's election, they had done the imperial. Thus fell, during the progress of the war, Namia, Spoletium and Perusia; the few towns which resisted were invested. So Narses resembled a strong man who walks with outstretched arms through a narrow passage, pursuing all who try to hide themselves before him. Or a fisher, who wades up a stream with a sack-net; behind him all is empty. The few Goths who could yet save themselves fled before the "iron roller" to the army of the King, which soon consisted of a greater number of the defenceless than of warriors. The Visigoths were again engaged in migration, just as they had been a hundred years before, but this time the iron net of Narses was behind them; and before them, as they advanced farther and farther into the constantly narrowing peninsula, the sea. And not a ship did they possess in which to fly. CHAPTER II. Added to this, an inevitable necessity reduced the number of Goths in the King's army capable of bearing arms in the most frightful manner. From the very commencement of the pursuit, Cethegus, with his mercenaries, and Alboin with his Longobardians, had stuck to the heels of the fugitives, and consequently, if the retreat of the Gothic army--already delayed by the number of women, children, and aged people who had joined it--was not to be brought to a complete standstill, it was necessary to sacrifice each night a small number of heroes, who halted at some spot suitable for their design, and held the pursuers at bay by an obstinate, fearless, and hopeless resistance, until the main army had again gained a considerable advance. This cruel, but only possible expedient, always entailed the loss of at least fifty men, and often, where the place to be defended had a wider front, a much greater number. Before King Teja marched from Spes Bonorum, he had explained this plan to the assembled army; his faithful troops silently assented to it. And every morning the "death-doomed" volunteered so eagerly to join this forlorn hope, that King Teja--with humid eyes--made them draw lots, not wishing to offend any one by the preference of others. For the Goths, who saw nothing before them but the certain destruction of the nation, and many of whom knew that their wives and children had fallen into the enemy's hands, vied with each other in seeking death. So their retreat became a triumphal procession of Gothic heroes, and every halting-place a monument of courageous self-sacrifice. Thus, among the leaders of the "doomed rear-guard," old Haduswinth fell near Nuceria Camellaria; the young and skilful archer, Gunthamund, at Ad Fontes; and the swift rider, Gudila, at Ad Martis. But these sacrifices, and the King's generalship, were not without influence on the fate of the nation. Near Fossatum, between Tudera and Narnia, a night attack took place between the rear-guard under Earl Markja, and the horsemen of Cethegus, which lasted from afternoon till sunrise. When at last the returning light illumined the hastily-constructed earthworks thrown up by the Goths, they were as still and silent as the grave. The pursuers advanced with the utmost caution. At last Cethegus sprang from his horse and on to the parapet of the earthworks, followed by Syphax. Cethegus turned and signed to his men: "Follow me; there is no danger! You have only to step over the bodies of our enemies, for here they all lie--a full thousand. Yonder is Earl Markja; I know him." But when the earthworks were demolished, and Cethegus and his horsemen continued their pursuit of the main army--which had gained a great advance they soon learned from the peasants of the neighbourhood that the Gothic army had not passed on the Flaminian Way at all. By the noble sacrifice of this night, King Teja had been enabled to conceal the further direction of his retreat, and the pursuers had lost the scent. Cethegus advised Johannes and Alboin, the one to send a portion of his men to the south-east, the other to the left on the Flaminian Way, to try to find the lost track. He himself longed to get to Rome. He wished to reach that city before Narses. Once there, he hoped to be able to checkmate him, as he had done Belisarius, from the Capitol. After discovering that King Teja had evaded all pursuit, Cethegus summoned his trusty tribunes, and told them that he was resolved--if necessary, by force--to rid himself of the constant supervision of Alboin and Johannes--who were at present weakened by the division of their troops at his advice--and to hasten with his Isaurians alone straight to Rome by the Flaminian Way, which was now no longer blocked by the Goths. But even while he was speaking, he was interrupted by the entrance of Syphax, who led into the tent a Roman citizen, whom he had with difficulty rescued from the hands of the Longobardians. The man had asked for the Prefect, and the Longobardians had answered, laughing, that they would treat him (the messenger) "as usual." "But," added Syphax, "a great crowd of people is approaching in the rear; I will see what it is and bring you word." "I know you, Tullus Faber," said the Prefect, turning to the messenger, when Syphax had left him; "you were ever faithful to Rome and to me. What news do you bring?" "O Prefect!" cried the man, "we all thought you were dead, for you sent us no answer to eight several messages." "I have not received even one!" "Then you do not know what has happened in Rome? Pope Silverius has died in exile in Sicily. His successor is Pelagius, your enemy!" "I know nothing. Speak!" "Alas, you will neither be able to advise nor to help. Rome has----" Just then Syphax returned, but before he could speak, he was followed into the tent by Narses, supported by Basiliskos. "You have allowed yourself to be detained here so long by a thousand Gothic spears," said the commander-in-chief angrily, "that the healthy have escaped, and the sick have overtaken you. This King Teja can do more than break shields; he can weave veils with which to blind the Prefect's sharp sight. But I see through many veils, and also through this. Johannes, call your people back. Teja cannot have gone south, he must have gone northwards, for he, no doubt, has known long since that which concerns the Prefect most: Rome is wrested from the Goths." Cethegus looked at him with sparkling eyes. "I had smuggled a few clever men into the city. They excited the inhabitants to a midnight revolt. All the Goths in the city were slain; only five hundred men escaped into the Mausoleum of Hadrian, and continue to defend it." Faber took courage to put in a word. "We sent eight messengers to you. Prefect, one after the other." "Away with this man!" cried Narses, signing to his officers. "Yes," he continued quietly, "the citizens of Rome think lovingly of the Prefect, to whom they owe so much: two sieges, hunger, pestilence, and the burning of the Capitol! But the messengers sent to you always lost their way, and fell into the hands of the Longobardians, who, no doubt, slew them. But the embassy sent to me by the Holy Father, Pelagius, reached me safely, and I have concluded an agreement, of which you, Prefect of Rome, will surely approve." "In any case, I shall not be able to annul it." "The good citizens of Rome fear nothing so much as a third siege. They have stipulated that we shall undertake nothing that can lead to another fight for their city. They write that the Goths in the Mausoleum will soon succumb to hunger; that they themselves can defend their walls; and they have sworn only to deliver up their city, after the destruction of those Goths, to their natural protector and chief, the Prefect of Rome. Are you content with that, Cethegus? Read the agreement. Give it to him, Basiliskos." Cethegus read the paper with deep and joyful emotion. So they had not forgotten him, his Romans! So now, when everything was coming to a crisis, they called, not the hated Byzantines, but himself, their patron, back to the Capitol! He again felt at the height of power. "I am content," he said, returning the roll. "I have promised," continued Narses, "to make no attempt to get the city into my power by force. First King Teja must follow King Totila. Then Rome--and many other things. Accompany me, Prefect, to the council of war." When Cethegus left the council in the tent of Narses, and asked after Tullus Faber, not a trace of the latter was to be found. CHAPTER III. Narses, that great general, had acutely guessed in what direction King Teja had turned aside from the Flaminian Way. He had first gone north towards the coast of the Ionian Gulf, and thence, with singular knowledge of the roads, had led his fugitive people and army by a circuitous route past Hadria, Aternum, and Ortona, to Samnium. That Rome was lost, he had learned beyond Nuceria Camellaria from some Goths who had fled from that city. The King, whose impatient and unsparing disposition ever looked forward to the end, not unwillingly found himself obliged to get rid of his prisoners. In number about as strong as their conquerors, the captives had made the office of guarding them so difficult, that Teja threatened to punish with death any attempt at escape. Notwithstanding, when the army marched northwards, a number of these prisoners made an attempt to free themselves by force. Very many were killed in the struggle that ensued, and the King ordered that all the rest, together with Orestes and the whole of the officers, should be thrown into the Aternus with their hands bound; where they died miserably by drowning. When Adalgoth begged Teja to revoke his cruel sentence, the latter replied: "Did they not fall upon our defenceless women and children in their peaceful homes, and slay them? This is no longer a war between warriors; it is nation murdering nation. Let us do our part." From Samnium the King, leaving his unarmed people to follow slowly under scanty escort--for they were threatened by no pursuit--hurried forward with his best troops to Campania. His arrival in those parts was so unexpected, that he not only surprised Duke Guntharis and Earl Grippa, whose small army had melted still more in consequence of frequent battles with superior forces, but, shortly after, the enemy also, who now had thought themselves sure of victory. He had found Duke Guntharis and Earl Grippa occupying a secure position between Neapolis and Beneventum. He learned that the Romani were threatening Cumæ from Capua. "They shall not reach that city before me," he cried; "I have to complete there an important work." And, his army being now reinforced by the garrison of his own county town of Tarentum, under the command of brave Ragnaris, he surprised the superior force of the Byzantines, which was about to march upon Cumæ, and defeated them with great loss. He himself slew the Archon Armatus with his battle-axe, and at his side young Adalgoth ran Dorotheos through with his spear. The Byzantines were routed, and fled northwards to Terracina. It was the last ray of sunshine cast by the God of Victory upon the blue banner of the Goths. The next day King Teja entered Cumæ. Totila, upon his last fatal march from Rome, had decided, at the instance of Teja, and contrary to his custom, to take with him hostages from that city. No one knew what had become of them. On the evening of his entry into Cumæ, King Teja ordered the walled-up garden of the Castle of Cumæ to be broken open. There were hidden the hostages from Rome: patricians and senators--among them Maximus, Cyprianus, Opilio, Rusticus, and Fidelius, the most distinguished men of the Senate--in all they numbered three hundred. All were members of the old league against the Goths. Teja ordered the Goths who had lately escaped from Rome to tell these hostages how the Romans, persuaded by envoys sent by Narses, had one night risen in revolt, had murdered all the Goths upon whom they could lay hands, even the women and children, and had driven the rest into the _Moles Hadriani_. The King fastened such a terrible look upon the trembling hostages, as they listened to this news, that two of them could not endure to wait till the end, but then and there killed themselves by dashing their heads against the stony walls which surrounded them. When the Goths from Rome had sworn to the truth of their story, the King silently turned away and left the garden. An hour after, the heads of the three hundred hostages stared ghastly down from the summit of the walls. "It was not alone to fulfil this terrible judgment that I came here," Teja said to Adalgoth: "I have also to reveal a sacred secret." And he invited him and the other leaders of the troops to a solemn and joyless midnight banquet. When the sad feast was over, the King made a sign to old Hildebrand, who nodded, and took a dimly burning torch from the iron ring into which it was stuck on the centre column of the vaulted hall, saying: "Follow me, children of these latter days, and take your shields with you." It was the third hour of the July night; the stars glittered in the sky. Out of the hall, silently following the King and the aged master-at-arms, there stepped Guntharis and Adalgoth, Aligern, Grippa, Ragnaris, and Wisand the standard-bearer. Wachis, the King's shield-bearer, closed the procession, carrying a second torch. Opposite the castle garden rose an ancient round tower, named the Tower of Theodoric, because that great King had restored it. Old Hildebrand was the first to enter this tower with his torch, but instead of leaving the ground-floor, which contained only the empty tower-room, the old man halted, knelt down, and carefully measured fifteen spans of his large hand from the door, which he had closed behind them, to the centre of the room. The whole floor seemed to be composed of three colossal slabs of granite. When Hildebrand had measured the fifteen spans, he held his thumb upon the spot at which he had arrived, and struck his battle-axe against the floor; it sounded hollow. Boring the point of his axe into a scarcely-visible crack in the stone, he signed to his companions to stand aside on his left; when they had done so, he pushed a portion of the slab to the right. A chasm, as deep as the tower was high above them, revealed itself to the astonished eyes of those present. The opening was only large enough to admit one man at a time. It led to a narrow flight of more than two hundred steps, hewn in the living rock. Silently, at a sign from Hildebrand, the men descended. When they arrived at the bottom, they found that the circular space was divided in the middle by a stone wall. The semicircle into which they had entered was empty. And now King Teja measured ten spans on the wall to the centre, and pressing his hand upon a stone, a small door opened inwards. Hildebrand entered with his torch, and kindled two others which were fixed upon the wall. The observers started back dazzled, and covered their eyes with their hands. When they again looked up, they recognised--at once guessing the secret--the whole rich treasure of Dietrich of Berne. There lay, partly heaped up symmetrically, partly thrown in disorder one upon another, weapons, vessels, and ornaments of all kinds. Strong Etruscan steel-caps of ancient times, brought by the commerce of the Goths as far as the Baltic, or to the Pruth and Dniester, and now brought back to the south by the migration of the nations, probably near to the very spot where they had been fashioned. Near these lay flat wooden head-pieces, over which was stretched the skin of the seal, or the jaws of the ice-bear; pointed Celtic helmets; high-crested helms from Rome or Byzantium; neck-rings of bronze and iron, of silver and gold. Shields--from the clumsy wooden shield, as tall as a man, which was set up like a wall to hide the archer, to the small round and ornamented horseman's shield of the Parthians, studded with pearls and precious stones. Ancient ring-mail of crushing weight, and light-padded clothing of purple-coloured linen, besides scimitars, swords and daggers, of stone, bronze, and steel. Axes and clubs of all kinds--from those rudely made from the bones of the mammoth and tied to the antler of a stag with bast, to the Frankish _franciska_, and the small perforated and gilded axe with which the Roman circus-riders used to split an apple while at full gallop. Spears, lances, and darts of all sorts--from the roughly carved tusk of the narwal, to the ebony shaft, inlaid with gold, of the Asdingian Vandal Kings in Carthage, and the massive golden arrows of these princes, with steel points a foot long, and the shafts decorated with the purple feathers of the flamingo. War-mantles--made of the fur of the black fox, the skin of the Numidian lion, and the costliest purple of Sidon. Shoes--from the long shovel-shaped snowshoes of the Skrito Fins, to the golden sandals of Byzantium. Doublets of Frisian wool, and tunics of Chinese silk. Innumerable vessels and table utensils--tall vases, flat salvers, cups, and round-bellied urns, of amber, of gold, of silver, of tortoise-shell. Arm-rings and shoulder-clasps, necklaces of pearls and of crystal beads, and innumerable other utensils for meat and drink, for clothing and decoration, for sport and war. "This secret cave," said Teja, "known only to us, the blood brethren--the master-at-arms caused it to be hewn in the rock when he was Earl of Cumæ, forty years ago--was the vault in which was hidden the treasure of the Goths. This is the reason why Belisarius found so little, when he ransacked the treasure-house at Ravenna. The most costly pieces of booty, the gifts, the collection of Amelung trophies in war and peace, which existed long before Theodoric, in the time of Winithar, Ermanarich, Athal, Ostrogotho, Isarna, Amala, and Gaut--all these have we concealed here. We left nothing in Ravenna but the minted gold, and such things as seemed richer in intrinsic value than in honour. For months our enemies have walked above these treasures; but the faithful abyss kept the secret. But now we will carry all away with us. Take the treasures on your shields, and hand them from one to another up the steps. We will take it to the last battle-field upon which an Ostrogothic army will ever fight. No, do not be anxious, young Adalgoth; even when I have fallen, and all is lost, the enemy shall not bear away the sacred treasure to Byzantium. For wonderful is the last battle-field which I have chosen; it shall conceal and swallow up the last of the Goths, their treasure and their fame!" "Yes, and their greatest treasure and noblest renown," said old Hildebrand; "not merely gold and silver and precious stones. Look here, my Goths!" And he held his torch towards a curtain which shut off a portion of the treasure-cave, and pushed the curtain to one side. As he did so, all present fell upon their knees. For they recognised the great dead, who sat, erect and clothed in purple, upon a golden throne, the spear still grasped in his right hand. It was the great Theodoric. The art which had been introduced to the Romans by the Egyptians--the art of embalming the dead--had preserved the body of the hero-King with terrible perfection. All present were struck dumb with emotion. "Many years ago," at last Hildebrand began, "Teja and I mistrusted the good fortune of the Goths. And I, who, before the breaking out of the war, had the command of the guard-of-honour at the Mausoleum of Ravenna, in which Amalaswintha had interred her dead father--I liked the building but little, and still less the incense-scented priests who so often prayed there for the soul of my good and great King--I thought that if ever all trace of my nation were rooted out of this southern land, no Italian or Greekling should mock at the remains of our beloved hero. No! even as the first great conqueror of the Roman fortress, Alaric the Visigoth, found his unknown and never to be dishonoured tomb in the sacred bed of the stream, so also should my great King be delivered from the curiosity of posterity. And, with Teja's help, I took the noble corpse away by night, from its marble house, and from the vicinity of the whining priests, and we brought it hither, as part of the royal treasure. Here it was safe. And if, after the lapse of centuries, some accident should betray its resting-place, who could then recognise the King with the eagle-eye? And so the sarcophagus at Ravenna is empty, and the monks sing and pray in vain. Here, near his treasures and his trophies, in hero splendour, erect upon his throne, he rests; it is more pleasing to his soul, which looks down from Walhalla, than to see his mortal remains stretched out, weighed down by heavy stones, and surrounded with clouds of incense." "But now," concluded Teja, "the hour has come for him once more to rise from the abyss. When you have raised the treasure, we will carefully lift up this beloved form. Early to-morrow we will march out of this city. The approach of Narses and the Prefect has already been announced. We will go, with royal corpse and royal treasure, to the last battle-field of the Goths, whither I have already sent the women and children. The battle-field--long ago I saw it in the visions of my sleepless nights--the battle-field whereon we and our nation will gloriously perish; the battlefield which, even when the last spear is broken, can save and hide all who do not fear to die in its glowing bosom; the battle-field which Teja has chosen for you and for himself!" "I guess thy meaning," whispered Adalgoth; "this last battle-field is----" "Mons Vesuvius!" said Teja. "To work!" CHAPTER IV. As rapidly as his fearful, all-encompassing system would allow, Narses, after the council which we have mentioned as taking place at Fossatum, had marched southward with his whole force and with the broadest front, in order to make an end of all the remaining Goths. Only to Tuscany did he send two small detachments, under his generals, Vitalianus and Wilmuth, to take such forts as still resisted, and, after them, Lucca, in Annonarian Tuscany. Valerianus, who had meanwhile conquered Petra Pertusa, which place blocked the Flaminian Way beyond Helvillum, was sent still farther north against Verona, the obstinate defence of which had enabled many Goths to escape up the valley of the Athesis to the Passara. With these exceptions, Narses hurried south with the whole of his army. He himself passed Rome on the Flaminian Way; while Johannes, on the coast of the Tyrrhenian Sea, and the Herulian Vulkaris on that of the Ionian Gulf, were to drive the Goths before them. But Johannes and Vulkaris found but little work to do; for in the north the Gothic families had already been received, in passing, into the mass of the army of the King, which it was now impossible to overtake; and from the south the Goths had likewise long since streamed past Rome to Neapolis, whither expresses from the King had bidden them to repair. "Mons Vesuvius!" was the rallying word for all these Gothic fugitives. Narses had named Anagnia to his two wings as the point of reunion with the main body. Cethegus gladly accepted the commander's invitation to remain with him in the centre, for he could expect no great events with the two wings; and the road taken by Narses led past Rome. In case that the commander, in spite of his promise, should attempt to procure entrance into Rome, Cethegus would be on the spot. But, almost to the Prefect's astonishment, Narses kept his word. He quietly marched his army past Rome. And he called upon Cethegus to be witness to his interview with Pope Pelagius and the other governing bodies of Rome, which interview took place below the walls at the Porta Belisaria (Pinceana), between the Flaminian and Salarian Gates. Once more the Pope and the Romans assured Narses--swearing by the holy remains of Cosma and Damian (according to legend, Arabian physicians who were martyred under Diocletian), which were brought in silver and ivory caskets to the walls--that they would unhesitatingly, after the annihilation of the Goths in the Moles Hadriani, open their gates to the Prefect of Rome, but firmly resist any attempt on the part of the Byzantines to enter the city by force; for they would not expose themselves to any possible struggle which might yet take place. The offer of Narses to leave them at once a few thousand armed men, in order to enable them the more speedily to reduce the Moles Hadriani, was civilly but decidedly refused, to the great joy of the Prefect. "They have learned two things during the last few years," he said to Lucius Licinius, as they rode away at the termination of the interview--"to keep the Romani at a distance, and to connect Cethegus with the well-being of Rome. That is already a great deal." "I regret, my general," said Lucius Licinius, "that I cannot share your joy and confidence." "I neither," cried Salvius Julianus. "I fear Narses; I mistrust him." "Oho! what wise men!" laughed Piso. "One should exaggerate nothing; not even prudence. Has not everything turned out better than we dared to hope since the night when a shepherd-boy struck the greatest Roman poet upon his immortal verse-writing hand, and the great Prefect of Rome swam down the Tiber in a granary?--since Massurius Sabinus was recognised by Earl Markja, dressed in the garments of his Hetares, in which disguise he was about to make his escape?--and since the great jurist, Salvius Julianus, was rudely fished up, bleeding, from the slime of the river by Duke Guntharis? Who would have thought then that we should ever be able to count upon our fingers the day when not a single Goth would be left to tread Italian soil?" "You are right, poet," said Cethegus with a smile; "these two friends of ours suffer from '_Narses_-fever,' as their hero suffers from epilepsy. To over-rate one's enemy is also a failing. The holy remains upon which those priests have sworn, are really sacred to them; they will not break such an oath." "If I had only seen, besides the priests and artisans," replied Licinius, "any of our friends upon the walls! But there were none but fullers, butchers, and carpenters! Where is the aristocracy of Rome? Where are the men of the Catacombs?" "Taken away as hostages," said Cethegus. "And they were rightly served? Did they not return to Rome, and do homage to the fair-haired Goth? If now the 'Black Earl' cuts off their heads, it cannot be helped. Be comforted; you see things in too dark a light, all of you. The crushing superiority of Narses has made you timid. He is a great general; but the fact that he has made this treaty with Rome--this agreement that I, and no other, should be admitted--and that he has _kept_ it, shows that he is harmless as a statesman. Let us but once again breathe the air of the Capitol! It does not agree with epileptic subjects." And when, the next morning, the young tribunes went to fetch the Prefect from his tent to join the united march against Teja, their leader received them with sparkling eyes. "Well," he cried, "who knows the Romans best, you or the Prefect of Rome? Listen--but be silent. Last night a centurion, one of the newly-formed city cohorts, named Publius Macer, stole out of Rome and into my tent. The Pope has entrusted to his care the Porta Latina, to that of his brother Marcus, the Capitol. He showed me both commissions--I know the handwriting of Pelagius--they are authentic. The Romans are long since tired of the rule of the priesthood. They would rejoice once more to see me, and you, and my Isaurians patrolling the walls. Publius left me his nephew Aulus, at once as a hostage and a pledge, who will let us know the night--which will be announced to him in the harmless words of a letter agreed upon beforehand--on which the Romans will open to us their gates and the Capitol. Narses cannot complain if the Romans voluntarily admit us--I shall use no force. Now, Licinius! Tell me, Julianus, who best knows Rome and the Romans?" CHAPTER V. Narses now marched to Anagnia. Two days after his arrival, his two wings reached that place according to order. After some days occupied in resting, mustering, and newly ordering his immense forces, the commander-in-chief marched to Terracina, where the remainder of the troops of Armatus and Dorotheos joined him. And now the united army rolled forward against the Goths, who had taken up a most excellent and secure position on Vesuvius, on the opposite mountain. Mons Lactarius, and on both shores of the little river Draco, which flowed into the sea north of Stabiæ. Since he had left Cumæ, marched past Neapolis (the citizens of which place shut their strong gates, which had been restored by Totila, overpowered the garrison and declared that, following the example of Rome, they would at present hold their fortress against both parties), and reached his chosen battle-field, King Teja had done all that was possible to make his naturally strong position still stronger. He had caused provisions to be carried from the fertile country around up to the mountains, in sufficient quantities to nourish his people until the light of the last day should dawn upon his nation. It has ever been a vain task for learned investigation to attempt to find on Mons Lactarius or Vesuvius the exact spots which correspond to the description of Procopius. It is impossible to fix upon any one of the innumerable ravines and valleys. And yet the description of the Byzantine historian, grounded as it was upon the verbal reports of the leaders and generals of the army of Narses, cannot be doubted. Rather may the contradictions be simply explained by the sudden, forcible and gigantic changes, and by the still more numerous, gradual and slighter alterations made in the face of the country by streams of lava, landslips, the crumbling of the rocks, and floods which have taken place upon that never quiet mountain, during the course of more than thirteen centuries. Even credible accounts of much later Italian authors, concerning places and positions on Mount Vesuvius, cannot always be reconciled with the reality. The ground which sucked up Teja's life-blood has no doubt been covered, ages ago, by deep layers of silent and impenetrable lava. Even Narses was compelled to admire the circumspection with which his barbarian adversary had chosen his last place of defence. "He intends to die like the bear in his den," he exclaimed as he observed the whole of the Gothic defences from his litter at Nuceria. "And many of you, my dear wolves," he added, turning with a smile to Alboin, "will fall under the blows of this bear's paws when you try to trot through those narrow entrances." "Oho! It is only necessary to let so many run in at once that the bear gets both paws full and is not able to strike again." "Softly, softly! I know of a pass on Vesuvius--long ago, when I still nursed my miserable body hoping to restore its strength, I spent weeks together upon Mons Lactarius, in order to enjoy the pure air, and at that time I firmly impressed upon my memory the pass I speak of; from that pass--if the Goths get into it--only famine can drive them out." "That will be tiresome!" "There is nothing else for it. I have no desire once more to sacrifice a myriad of imperial troops in order to stamp out these last sparks." And so it happened. Very gradually, gaining each forward step only at a great and bloody loss, did Narses draw his net tighter and more tightly together. He surrounded in a semicircle every point of the Gothic position, on west, north, and east; only on the south, the sea-side, where he himself had encamped on the strand, was he able to leave a space undefended, for the enemy had no ships whereon to fly or wherewith to procure provisions. The "Tyrrhenian" fleet of Narses was already occupied in carrying the captive Goths to Byzantium; the "Ionian" was shortly expected; a few vessels had been sent to cruise in the Bay of Bajæ and opposite Surrentum. Thus Narses, notwithstanding his great superiority, only gradually occupied, with obstinate patience and forgetting nothing, Piscinula, Cimiterium, Nola, Summa, Melane, Nuceria, Stabiæ, Cumæ, Bajæ, Misenum, Puteoli, and Nesis. And presently Neapolis also became alarmed at the power of Narses, and voluntarily opened to him its gates. From all sides the Byzantines advanced concentrically towards the Gothic position. After many furious battles the Byzantines succeeded in driving the Goths away from Mons Lactarius and over the river Draco; where the rest of the nation encamped upon a level plain above the pass so highly praised by Narses, in the immediate vicinity of one of the numerous craters which, at that time, surrounded the foot of the principal cone; only rarely, when the wind blew from the south-east, suffering from the smoke and sulphurous exhalations of the volcano. Here, in the innumerable hollows and ravines of the mountain, the unarmed people encamped under the open sky, or under the tents and wagons which they had brought with them, in the warm August air. "The only access to this encampment," writes Procopius, "could be obtained by a narrow pass, the southern opening of which was so small that a man holding a shield could completely block it up." This opening was guarded day and night, each man occupying it for an hour, by King Teja himself, Duke Guntharis, Duke Adalgoth, Earl Grippa, Earl Wisand, Aligern, Ragnaris, and Wachis. Behind them the pass was filled by a hundred warriors, who relieved each other at intervals. And so, in accordance with the system pursued by Narses, the whole terrible war, the struggle for Rome and Italy, had been dramatically reduced to a point; to a battle for a ravine of a foot or two wide on the southern point of the so dearly-loved, so obstinately-defended peninsula. Even in the historical representation of Procopius, the fate of the Goths resembles the last act of a grand and awful tragedy. On the shore, opposite to the hill from which the pass was approached, Narses had pitched his tents with the Longobardians; on his right Johannes; on his left Cethegus. The Prefect drew the attention of his tribunes to the fact that Narses, by the cession of this position--Cethegus himself had chosen it--had given either a proof of great imprudence or of complete inoffensiveness of intention, "for," said Cethegus, "with this position he has left open the way to Rome, which he could easily have prevented, by giving me the command of the right wing or of the centre. Hold yourselves in readiness to start secretly and at night with all the Isaurians, as soon as a sign is made by Rome." "And you?" asked Licinius anxiously. "I remain here with the dreaded commander. If he had wished to murder me--he could have done so long ago. But it is evident that he has no such intention. He will not act against me without just cause. And if I obey the call of the Romans, I do not break, I fulfil, our agreement." CHAPTER VI. Above the narrow pass on Vesuvius, which we will call the Ravine of the Goths, a small but deep chasm had been formed by the black blocks of lava. Within it King Teja had concealed the most sacred possession of the nation--the corpse of King Theodoric and the royal treasure. Theodoric's banner was fixed before the mouth of this chasm. A purple mantle, stretched upon four spears, formed the dark curtain to the rocky chamber which the last King of the Goths had chosen for his royal hall. A block of lava, covered with the skin of the black tiger, formed his last throne. Here King Teja rested, when not called away by his jealously-held post at the southern entrance of the Ravine of the Goths; upon which, now from a distance with arrows, slings, and hurling--spears, now close at hand in a bold and sudden attack, the outposts of Narses commenced their assaults. None of the brave guardians returned home without bringing tokens of such attacks upon shield and armour, or leaving signs at the entrance of the ravine, in the form of slain enemies. This happened so frequently, that the stench arising from the decay of the bodies threatened to render any further sojourn in the ravine impossible. Narses seemed to have counted upon this circumstance, for, when Basiliskos lamented the useless sacrifice, he said, "Perhaps our slain soldiers will be more useful after death than during their life." But King Teja ordered that the bodies should be thrown by night over the lava cliffs; so that, horribly mutilated, they seemed a warning to all who should attempt to follow their example. Seeing this, Narses begged to be allowed to send unarmed men to fetch away the bodies, a favour which King Teja immediately granted. Since retiring into this ravine, the Goths had not lost a single man in fight; for only the foremost man in the pass was exposed to the enemy, and, supported by the comrades who stood behind him, this guardian had never yet been killed. One night, after sunset--it was now the month of September, and all traces of the battle at Taginæ were already obliterated; the flowers planted by Cassiodorus and the nuns of the cloister round the sarcophagi of King Totila, his bride, and his friend, had put forth new shoots--King Teja, who had just been relieved from his post by Wisand, approached his lava hall, his spear upon his shoulder. Before the curtain which closed the entrance to his rocky chamber, Adalgoth received Teja with a sad smile, and, kneeling, offered to him a golden goblet. "Let me still fulfil my office of cup-bearer," he said; "who knows how long it may last?" "Not much longer!" said Teja gravely, as he seated himself. "We will remain here, outside the curtain. Look! how magnificently the bay and the coast of Surrentum shine in the glowing light left by the setting sun--the blue sea is changed to crimson blood! Truly, the Southland could afford no more beauteous frame with which to enclose the last battle of the Goths. Well, may the picture be worthy of its setting! The end is coming. How wonderfully everything that I foreboded--dreamed, and sang--has been fulfilled!" And the King supported his head upon both his hands. Only when the silver tones of a harp was heard, did he again look up. Adalgoth had, unseen, fetched the King's small harp from behind the curtain. "Thou shalt hear," he said, "how I have completed thy song of the Ravine; or I might have said, how it has completed itself. Dost thou remember that night in the wilderness of ivy, marble, and laurel in Rome? It was not a battle already fought, a battle of ancient days, of which thou didst sing. No! in a spirit of prophecy, thou hast sung our last heroic battle here." And he played and sang: "Where arise the cliffs of lava, On Vesuvius' glowing side, Tones of deepest woe and wailing, Evening's peace and calm deride. For the brave dead's direst curses Rest upon the rocky tomb, Where the Gothic hero-nation Will fulfil their glorious doom." "Yes," said Teja, "glorious, my Adalgoth! Of that glory no fate and no Narses shall deprive us. The awful judgment, which our beloved Totila challenged, has fallen heavily upon himself, his people, and his God. No Heavenly Father has, as that noble man imagined, weighed our destinies in a just balance. We fall by the thousand treacheries of the Italians and the Byzantines, and by the brute superiority of numbers. But _how_ we fall, unshaken, proud even in our decay, can be decided by no fate, but only by our own worth. And after us? Who after us will rule in this land? Not for long these wily Greeks--and not the native strength of the Italians. Numerous tribes of Germans still exist on the other side of the mountains--and I nominate them our heirs and our avengers." And he softly took up the harp which Adalgoth had laid down, and sang in a low voice as he looked down upon the rapidly darkening sea. The stars glittered over his head; and at rare intervals he struck a chord. "Extinguished is the brightest star Of our Germanic race! O Dietrich, thou beloved of Bern, Thy shield is bruised, defaced. Unblemished truth and courage fail-- The coward wins--the noble fly; Rascals are lords of all the world-- Up, Goths, and let us die! "O wicked Rome, O southern gleam, O lovely, heavenly blue! O rolling blood-stained Tiber-stream-- O Southerns, all untrue! Still cherishes the North its sons Of courage true and high; Vengeance will roll its thunders soon-- Then, up! and let us die!" "The melody pleases me," said Adalgoth; "but is it already finished? What is the end?" "'The end can only be sung in time to the stroke of the sword," said Teja. "Soon, methinks, thou wilt also hear this end." And he rose from his seat. "Go, my Adalgoth," he said; "leave me alone. I have already kept thee far too long from"--and he smiled through all his sadness--"from the loveliest of all duchesses. You have but few of such evening hours to spend together, my poor children! If I could but save your young and budding lives----" He passed his hand across his brow. "Folly!" he then cried; "you are but a part of the doomed nation--perhaps the loveliest." Adalgoth's eyes had filled with tears as the King mentioned his young wife. He now went up to Teja and laid his hand inquiringly upon his shoulder. "Is there no hope? She is so young!" "None," answered Teja; "for no saving angel will come down from heaven. We have still a few days before famine commences its inroads. Then I will make a speedy end. The warriors shall sally forth and fall in battle." "And the women, the children--the defenceless thousands?" "I cannot help them. I am no god. But not a Gothic woman or maiden need fall into slavery under the Byzantines, unless they choose shame instead of a free death. Look there, my Adalgoth--in the dark night the glow of the mountain is fully seen. Seest thou, there, a hundred paces to the right.--Ha! how splendidly the fiery smoke rushes from the gloomy mouth!--When the last guardian of the pass has fallen--one leap into that abyss--and no insolent Roman hand shall touch our pure women. Thinking of _them_--more than of us, for we can fall anywhere thinking of the Gothic women, I chose for our last battle-field--Vesuvius!" And Adalgoth, no longer weeping, but with enthusiasm, threw himself into Teja's arms. CHAPTER VII. A few days after Cethegus had taken up his chosen position on the left of Narses with his mercenaries, the report came to the camp of the Byzantines that the Goths in the Mausoleum of Hadrian had been overpowered. So now all Rome was in the hands of the Romans; not a single Goth, and, as Cethegus exultingly thought, not a single Byzantine, ruled in his Rome. If he could now succeed in throwing his Isaurians, under the command of the tribunes, into Rome, the Prefect would be in a much more favourable position, opposed to Narses, than he had ever been opposed to Belisarius, with whom he had been obliged to share the possession of the city. One of the messengers who had brought the news from Rome, at the same time gave to Aulus, the hostage, a letter from the two centurions, the brothers Macer, which ran thus: "The bride has recovered from her long sickness; if the bridegroom will come, there is nothing more to hinder the wedding. Come, Aulus." These were the words fixed upon. Cethegus communicated them to his Roman knights. "Excellent!" cried Lucius. "Now I shall be able to place a monument upon the spot where my brave brother fell for Rome and for Cethegus." "Yes," said Salvius Julianus, "imprescriptible is the Romans' right to Rome." "But if we are to go secretly, see to it well, Prefect," said Piso, "that our departure is concealed so long from the greatest cripple of all times, that it will be impossible for him to overtake us." "No," said Cethegus, "you shall not depart in secret. I have convinced myself that this most prudent of all heroes has placed outposts far beyond our position on the left wing. What we considered our outposts are hemmed round by _his_--occupied by his Longobardian wolves, whom he has placed in all directions. Without his consent, you cannot manage your departure either by force or deception. It will be far wiser to act openly. If he chooses, he can frustrate our plan, for, in any case, he is sure to hear of it. But he will have nothing to say against it--you will see! I shall tell him of my resolution, and, depend upon it, he will approve of it." "General, that is very bold; it is great!" "It is the only possible way." "Yes, you are right," said Salvius Julianus, after a few moments' reflection. "Force and deception are equally impossible; and should Narses consent, I will willingly confess that my fears----" "Were founded upon an over-estimation of the _statesman_ Narses. Large numbers have intimidated you, and the certainly not to be over-estimated _general-ship_ of the sick man. I confess that before the battle of Taginæ the whole horizon threatened thunderstorms; but, as I am still alive, those appearances must have been illusive. I will at once send you with my inquiry to Narses. You are suspicious, you will therefore observe sharply. Go, tell him that the Romans have resolved to admit me, their Prefect, within their walls _now_, before the annihilation of Teja's army. And I wish to know if he will permit you to march to Rome with my Isaurians, or if he would consider such an act as a breach of our agreement. Against his will neither I nor the Isaurians will set forth." The two tribunes took leave, and, as he stepped out of the Prefect's tent, Piso said with a laugh to the others: "The crutch of Narses rendered your wits useless, longer than the stick of the shepherd did my fingers!" When they were well outside, Syphax hurried up to his master. "O master," he said, "do not trust this sick man with his quiet and impenetrable looks! Last night I again questioned my snake oracle. I divided the skin of my idol into two pieces, and laid them upon live coals. The piece which I called 'Narses' outlasted by far the piece which I called 'Cethegus.' Shall I not make the attempt? You know that a scratch with this dagger, and he is lost! What would it matter if they impaled Syphax, the son of Hiempsal? I cannot do it by stealth, for the Longobardian prince sleeps in the tent of Narses, in a bed stretched across the entrance, and seven of his 'little wolves' lie upon the threshold. The Herulians stand outside the curtain. According to your hint, I have watched Narses' tent at night ever since we left Helvillum. Even a gnat can scarcely escape the vigilance of the Herulians and Longobardians when it flies into the tent. But openly, by day, one spring into his litter--a scratch of the skin--and he is a dead man in a quarter of an hour!" "And before that time has elapsed, not only is Syphax, the son of Hiempsal, a corpse, but also Cethegus. No. But listen; I have discovered where the commander is accustomed to hold his secret conversations with Basiliskos and Alboin. Not in his tent--a camp has a thousand ears--but in the bath. The physicians have ordered Narses a morning bath in the bay at Stabiæ, and he has had a bath-house built out into the sea, which can only be reached in a boat. When Alboin and Basiliskos accompany him thither, they are only as wise as--well, as Basiliskos and Alboin. But when they return, they are full of the wisdom of Narses; they know what letters have come from Byzantium, and many other things. Round about the bath-house there is much seaweed. Syphax, for how long a time can you dive?" "As long," answered the slave, not without pride, "as the clumsy and suspicious crocodile in our streams takes to observe the gazelle which has been thrown into the reeds as a bait, and to make up his mind to swim to it--then a knife from below in his belly! This small-eyed Narses has something of the crocodile--we will see if I cannot outdo him by patient diving." "Excellent! my panther on shore, my diving duck in the water!" "I would leap into fire for your sake, then you would call me your 'salamander.'" "Well, you must manage to listen to the conversation of this sick man when he goes to bathe." "The office will very well suit another game which I have on hand. For many days a fisherman, who throws his net every morning and evening, and never catches anything, has been signing and winking to me in a very innocent-sly manner. I believe he is watching for me, and not for sea mullets. But the long-bearded wolves of this Alboin are always at my heels. Perhaps, when I dive into the water, I shall be able to catch up what this fisherman wishes to confide to me." CHAPTER VIII. Very gravely, but no more in a melting mood, Adalgoth told his young wife of the resolve of the King, and of the last alternative between death and a shameful slavery. He expected an outbreak of wild grief, such as it had been so difficult even for him to repress. But, to his astonishment, Gotho remained unshaken. "I have foreseen this long ago, my Adalgoth! It is no misfortune; to lose what we love, and still live, that alone is a misfortune. I have attained to the highest earthly bliss, I am thy wife. Whether I shall have been so for ten years or for twenty, or for scarcely half a year, alters nothing. At least we shall die together on the same day, possibly at the same hour. For King Teja will not forbid thee--when thou hast done thy part in the last battle, and, perhaps wounded, canst fight no longer--he will not forbid thee to come and take me in thine arms--how often hast thou carried me on the Iffinger!--and leap with me into the abyss. Oh, Adalgoth!" she cried, passionately embracing him, "how happy we have been! We will show that we were worthy of such bliss, by dying bravely, without cowardly lament. The scion of the Balthe," and she smiled, "shall not say that the shepherd's daughter could not keep pace with his nobility. There arises in my soul a vision of the grandeur of our mountains! My grandfather, Iffa, admonished me, when I left him, to call to mind the fresh and free air of our mountains, and the strict and noble severity of the proud heights, should ever life in the narrow, small, gilded chambers here below seem too paltry for our souls. We have not been menaced with that, but now, when it is necessary to raise our minds from timid, tender sorrow--which almost crept over me--and to gain strength for a noble resolve, the remembrance of my native mountains has made me strong. 'Shame on thee,' I said to myself, 'shame on thee, daughter of the mountains! What would the Iffinger, and the Wolfshead, and all the stony giants say, if they saw the shepherdess despair? Be worthy of thy mountains and of thy hero husband.'" Adalgoth pressed his young wife to his bosom, with mingled pride and joy. Behind the tent of the Duke lay the low hut, made of dried branches, where dwelt Wachis and Liuta. Liuta, who had heard from Gotho what fate menaced them, had been obliged to use all her powers of persuasion upon her husband (who sat shaking his head and hammering and patching his shield, which had been sadly defaced, by Longobardian arrows in the last watch he had held at the mouth of the pass, and who now began to whistle to hide his suppressed sobs) before she could raise him to a like enthusiasm of renunciation. "I do not think," said the honest man, "that the Lord of heaven can see it done. I am one of those who never like to say, 'All is over!' The proud ones, those who hold their heads high, like King Teja and Duke Adalgoth, certainly run constantly against the beams of fate. But we small people, who can stoop and bend, easily find a mouse-hole or a chink in the wall by which to escape. It is too vile! miserable! cruel! rascally!"--and each word was accompanied by a sounding stroke with his hammer. "I will not believe it! I cannot believe that hundreds of good women, pretty girls, lisping children, and stammering old men, must jump into the hellish fire of this accursed mountain! As if it were but a merry bonfire! As if they would come out at the other side safe and sound! I might just as well have let thee burn in the house at Fæsulæ. And not only thou must burn, but also our expected child, whom I have already named Witichis." "Or Rauthgundis," said Liuta, blushing, as she bent over her husband's shoulder and stopped his hammering. "Let this name admonish thee, Wachis! Think of our beloved mistress. Was she not a thousand times better than Liuta, the poor maid-servant? And would she have hesitated or refused to die on the same day with all her people?" "Thou art right, wife!" exclaimed Wachis, with a last furious stroke of his hammer. "Thou knowest I am a peasant, and peasants do not at all like to die. But if the heavens fall, they strike down peasants as well as others; and before it happens--ha-ha!--I will deal many a famous stroke! That would please Sir Witichis and Mistress Rauthgundis right well also. In honour of them--yes, thou art right, Liuta--we will live bravely--and, if it cannot be otherwise, bravely die!" CHAPTER IX. It was with most joyful surprise that the two tribunes, Licinius and Julianus, entered the tent of the Prefect after their interview with Narses. "Once again you have conquered, O Cethegus!" cried Licinius. "You have got the upper hand, Prefect of Rome," said Salvius Julianus. "I do not understand it, but Narses really abandons Rome to you." "Ha!" cried Piso, who had entered with the others, "that is your old Cæsarian luck, Cethegus! Your star, which has seemed to wane since this famous cripple's arrival, shines anew. It seems to me that sometimes his _mind_ suffers from attacks of epilepsy. For, with a sound mind, how could he quietly let you enter Rome? No! Quem deus vult perdere dementat! Now will Quintus Piso again wander through the Forum, and look into the book-stalls to see if the Goths have assiduously bought his 'Epistolas ad amabilissimum, carissimum pastorem Adalgothum et ejus pedum'--(Letters to the very amiable and greatly beloved shepherd-boy, Adalgoth, and his bludgeon)." "So you have composed in exile, like Ovidius?" asked Cethegus, smiling. "Yes," answered Piso. "The six-footed verses come more readily, since they no longer need to fear the Goths, who are a foot longer. And amid the noise of Gothic banquetings it would not be easy to compose, even in time of peace." "He has composed some merry verses, intermixed with Gothic words, on that subject too," said Salvius Julianus. "How does it begin, 'Inter hails Gothicum skapja'----" "Do not wrong my words! It is not permitted to quote falsely what is immortal." "Well, how go the verses?" asked Cethegus. "Thus," said Piso: "De conviviis barbarorum. Inter: 'Hails Gothicum! skapja matjan jah drinkan!' Non audet quisquam dignos educere versus: Calliope madido trepidat se jungere Baccho, Ne pedibus non stet ebria Musa suis." "Horrible poetry!" exclaimed Salvius Julianus. "Who knows," said Piso, laughing, "whether the thirst of the Goths will not become immortal through these verses?" "But now tell me exactly what Narses answered?" said Cethegus. "First he listened to us with great incredulity," replied Licinius, "He asked suspiciously, 'Is it possible that the prudent Romans can again beg for an Isaurian garrison and the Prefect, whom they have to thank for so much famine and unwilling valour?' But I answered that he under-rated the patriotism of the Romans, and that it was your affair if you had deceived yourself. If the Romans did not voluntarily admit us, your seven thousand men were too weak to storm the city. This seemed to convince him. He only required our promise that, if we were not admitted voluntarily, we would at once return here." "And we thought we might well venture to promise this in your name," concluded Julianus. "You were right," said Cethegus, with a smile. "Narses then said that he would not hinder us if the Romans liked to have us. And he is so completely harmless," Licinius went on, "that he does not seem to wish to detain you, even as a hostage; for he inquired when the Prefect would start. Therefore he must have taken it for granted that you would lead the Isaurians to Rome yourself. And he has nothing to say against that either. He was evidently surprised when I answered that you preferred to witness here the destruction of the Goths." "Well," said Cethegus, "where, then, is this terrible Narses, the great statesman! Even my friend Procopius sadly over-rated him, when he once named him to me as the greatest man of the time." "The greatest man of the time is--some one else," cried Licinius. "It was natural that Procopius should give the palm to the superior enemy of his Belisarius. But one almost ought to take advantage of the clumsy blunder made by the 'greatest man,'" continued Cethegus reflectively. "The gods might be angry if we did not make use of the miracle of infatuation which they have accomplished for us. I alter my resolution; I long to get to the Capitol; I will go with you to Rome. Syphax, we will start--at once! Saddle my horse!" But Syphax gave his master a warning look. "Leave me, tribunes!" said Cethegus, "I will recall you directly." "O sir!" cried Syphax eagerly, as soon as they were alone, "do not go to-day! Send the others on in advance. To-morrow early I shall fish two great secrets out of the sea. Diving under his boat, I have already spoken to the fisherman I mentioned. He is no fisher, he is a slave, a post-slave belonging to Procopius." "What do you say?" asked Cethegus hastily and in a low tone. "We could only exchange a few words in a whisper. The Longobardians stood on the shore watching us. Seven letters from Procopius, sent either openly or secretly, have never reached you. He therefore chose this clever messenger, who will fish to-night by moonlight and give me the letter. He had not brought it with him to-day. And to-morrow early--to-day he was too ill--Narses will again bathe in the sea. I have found a hiding-place among the weeds; quite close. And should they chance to see bubbles rising from the water, I can whistle like an otter. I saw the imperial post arrive with well-filled mail-bags. Basiliskos took them. Do but wait until to-morrow early; Narses will be sure to talk over the latest secrets from Byzantium with Basiliskos and Alboin. Or at least leave me here alone----" "No, that would be at once to betray you as a spy. You are worth more than ten times your weight in gold, Syphax!--I shall remain here till to-morrow," he continued, as the tribunes again entered. "Oh, come with us!" begged Licinius. "Away from the oppressive influence of this Narses!" added Julianus. But Cethegus frowned. "Does he still over-top me in your eyes, this fool, who allows Cethegus to escape from his well-guarded camp to Rome; who throws the fish out of his net into the water? Verily, he has too much intimidated you! To-morrow evening I will follow you. I have still some business to transact here, which no one but myself can complete. Meanwhile, if Rome does not resist, you can occupy it without me. But I shall surely overtake you at Terracina. If not, march into Rome. You, Licinius, will keep the Capitol for me." With sparkling eyes Licinius exclaimed: "You honour me highly, my general! I will answer for the Capitol with my life! May I venture a petition?" "Well?" "Do not expose yourself foolhardily to the spear of the Gothic King! The day before yesterday he hurled two spears at once at you; one in each hand. If I had not caught the one from his left hand upon my shield----" "Then, Licinius, the Jupiter of the Capitol would have blown it aside before it struck me. For the god still needs me. But you mean well." "Do not widow Roma!" persisted Lucius. Cethegus looked at him with the irresistible look of admiring love which was so winning on _his_ face; and continued, turning to Salvius Julianus: "You, Salvius, will occupy the Mausoleum. And you, Piso, the rest of the city on the left bank of the Tiber. Particularly the Porta Latina; through that gate I shall follow you. You will not open to Narses _alone_, any more than you formerly did to Belisarius alone. Farewell; salute my Roma for me. Tell her, that the last contest for her possession, that between Narses and Cethegus, has ended with victory for Cethegus. We shall meet again in Rome! Roma eterna!" "Roma eterna!" repeated the tribunes with enthusiasm, and hurried out. "Oh, why was not this Licinius the son of Manilia!" cried Cethegus, looking after the young men as they departed. "Folly of my heart, why art thou so obstinate? Licinius, you shall take the place of Julius as my heir! Oh, would that you were indeed Julius!" CHAPTER X. The departure of the Prefect for Rome was delayed for many days. Narses, who invited him to his table, did not indeed seek to keep him back. He even expressed his astonishment that the "Ruler of the Capitol" was not more powerfully drawn to the Tiber stream. "Certainly," he said with a smile, "I can understand that, as you have seen these barbarians rule and conquer so long in your Italy, you desire strongly to see them fall there. But I cannot say how long that event may yet be put off. The pass cannot be taken by storm as long as it is defended by men like this King Teja. Already more than a thousand of my Longobardians, Alamannians, Burgundians, Herulians, Franks, and Gepidæ have fallen before it." "Send for once," interposed Alboin in a vexed tone of voice--"send for once your brave Romani Against the Goths. The Herulians, Vulkaris and Wilmuth, fell under King Teja's axe almost as soon as they arrived here; the Gepidian Asbad, under the spear of that boy Adalgoth; my cousin Gisulf lies wounded by Duke Guntharis's sword; Wisand, the standard-bearer, has stabbed the Frank count, Butilin, with the point of his flagstaff; the old master-at-arms has dashed out the brains of the Burgundian Gernot with his stone axe; the Alamannian Liuthari was slain by Earl Grippa, and my shield-bearer, Klaffo, by a common Gothic soldier. And for every one of these heroes, a dozen of their followers lie dead also. If, at midnight last night, a block of lava, upon which I was standing, had not most opportunely slipped down just as King Teja, who can see in the dark, was hurling his lance at me, Rosamunda would not be the loveliest woman, but the loveliest widow in the realm of the Longobardians! As it was I got off with some ugly bruises, which will not be extolled in future heroic songs, but which I fancy much more than King Teja's best spear in my stomach. But I think that it is now the turn of other heroes. Let your Macedonians and Illyrians come forward. We have shown them often enough how a man can die in front of that needle's eye." "No, my little wolf! Diamond cut diamond!" laughed Narses. "Always Germans against Germans; there are too many of you in the world!" "You seem to have the same fatherly opinion about the Isaurians--at least about _mine_!--magister militum," said Cethegus. "Shortly before their departure for Rome, you ordered my Isaurians to storm the pass in mass--the first storming-party in mass that you had ever ordered! Seven hundred of my seven thousand remained dead upon those rocks, and Sandil, my tried and faithful chief, at last found this Black Earl's axe too sharp for his helmet. He was very valuable to me." "Well, the rest are safe in Rome. But nothing except fire can drive these Goths out of their last hole; unless indeed the earth would do me the favour to quake, as it did at Ravenna when Belisarius----" "Is there still no news of the result of the process against Belisarius?" asked Cethegus. "Letters came lately from Byzantium, did they not?" "I have not yet read them all.--Or, if not fire--then hunger. And if they then sally forth for a last battle, many a brave man would rather hear the murmur of the Ganges than the murmur of the Draco. Not you, Prefect! I know that you can look boldly into the eye of death." "I will still wait here a little and see how things turn out. It is bad travelling weather. It storms and rains unceasingly. On the first or second warm sunshiny day, I will start for Rome." It was true. On the night of the departure of the Isaurians, the weather had suddenly changed. The fisherman, who dwelt in a village near Stabiæ, could not venture out upon the sea; less on account of the storm than because of the Longobardians, who had long been watching him with suspicion, and who had once arrested him. Only when his old father came forward and proved that Agnellus was really his, the old fisherman's son, did they hesitatingly let him go free. But he did not dare to pretend to fish, when no other fisher threw out his nets; and only far out upon the water could Syphax, who was also closely watched, venture to communicate with him. The exits of all the camps, even of the half-deserted camp of Cethegus--Narses had placed only three thousand Thracians and Persians in the tents deserted by the Isaurians--were guarded night and day by the Longobardians. And Narses was also obliged to postpone his baths for some days. But for the secrets, namely, the letter from Procopius and the conversation held by Narses in his bath-house, Cethegus fully intended to wait. CHAPTER XI. The usual good luck of the Prefect did not desert him. The weather changed again. On the morning of the day after his last conversation with Narses, the sun rose splendidly over the blue and sparkling bay, and hundreds of small fishing-boats set out to take advantage of the favourable weather. Syphax, yielding his place at the threshold of his master's tent to the four Isaurians, who alone had remained behind their comrades, had disappeared at the first approach of dawn. When Cethegus had taken his morning bath in an adjoining tent, and was returning to his breakfast, he heard Syphax making a great noise as he approached through the lines of tents. "No!" he was shouting; "this fish is for the Prefect. I have paid for it in hard cash. The great Narses will not wish to eat other people's fish!" And with these words he tore himself loose from Alboin, and from several Longobardians, as well as from a slave belonging to Narses, who were trying to detain him. Cethegus stopped. He recognised the slave. It was the cook of the generally sick and always temperate general, whose art was scarcely practised except for his master's guests. "Sir," the well-educated Greek said to the Prefect, in his native language, "do not blame me for this unseemly turmoil. What does a sea-mullet matter to me! But these long-bearded barbarians forced me to take possession, at any cost, of this fish-basket, which your slave was bringing from the boats." A glance which Cethegus exchanged with Syphax sufficed. The Longobardian had not understood what had been said. Cethegus gave Syphax a blow on the cheek, and cried in Latin: "Good-for-nothing, insolent slave! will you never learn manners? Shall not the sick general have the best there is?" And he roughly snatched the basket from the Moor and gave it to the slave. "Here is the basket. I hope Narses will enjoy the fish." The slave, who thought he had refused the gift distinctly enough, took the basket with a shake of his head. "What can it all mean?" he asked in Latin as he went away. "It means," answered Alboin, who followed him, "that the best fish is _not_ hidden in the basket, but somewhere else." As soon as Syphax entered the tent, he eagerly felt in his waterproof belt of crocodile-skin for a roll of papyrus, which he handed to the Prefect. "You bleed, Syphax!" "Only slightly. The Longobardians pretended, when they saw me swimming in the water, to take me for a dolphin, and shot their arrows at me." "Nurse yourself--a solidus for every drop of your blood!--the letter is worth blood and gold, as it seems. Nurse yourself! and bid the Isaurians let no one enter." And now, alone in his tent, the Prefect began to read. His features grew darker and darker. Ever deeper became the wrinkle in the centre of his mighty forehead; ever more harshly and firmly compressed his lips. "To Cornelius Cethegus Cæsarius, the Ex-prefect and ex-friend, Procopius of Cæsarea, for the last time. This is the most sorrowful business for which I have ever used either my former or my present pen-hand. And I would gladly give this my left hand, as I gave my right for Belisarius, if I need not write this letter. The revocation and renunciation of our friendship of thirty years! In this unheroic time I believed in two heroes; the hero of the sword, Belisarius; and the hero of the intellect, Cethegus. In future I must hate, and almost despise, the latter." The reader threw the letter on the couch upon which he lay. Then he took it up again with a frown and read on: "Nothing more was wanting but that Belisarius should prove to be the traitor that you would have represented him to be. But his innocence is as clearly proved as your black falsehood. I had often felt uneasy at the crookedness of your ways, into which you had partly led me also; but I believed in the grandeur and unselfishness of your design: the liberation of Italy! Now, however, I see that the mainspring of your actions was measureless, unlimited, merciless ambition! A design which necessitates such means as you have used is desecrated in my eyes for ever. You tried to ruin Belisarius, that brave and simple-minded man, by means of his own repentant wife, and to sacrifice him to Theodora and to your own ambition. That was devilish; and I turn away from you for ever." Cethegus closed his eyes. "I ought not to wonder at it," he said to himself. "He too has his idol: Belisarius! Whoever touches that idol is as hateful to the wise Procopius as he who sees in the Cross merely a piece of wood is to the Christian. Therefore I ought not to wonder at it--but it pains me! Such is the power of a thirty years' habit. During all those years a warmer feeling came over my heart at the sound of the name, Procopius! How weak does custom make us! The Goth deprived me of Julius--Belisarius deprives me of Procopius! Who will deprive me of Cethegus, my oldest and last friend? No one. Neither Narses nor Fate. Away with you, Procopius, out of the circle of my life! Almost too lachrymose, certainly too long, is the funeral speech which I have held over you. What else does the dead man say?" And he continued to read: "But I write this letter, because I wish to close our long friendship--to which you have put an end by your treacherous attack upon my hero, Belisarius--with a last sign of affection. I wish to warn and to save you, if it yet be possible. Seven letters which I sent you have evidently never reached you, otherwise you would not still be dwelling in the camp of Narses, as his army-reports affirm. So I will entrust this eighth letter to my slave, Agnellus, a fisherman's son from Stabiæ, where you are now encamped. I will give him his freedom, and recommend this letter to him as my last commission. For, although I ought to hate you, I still love you, Cethegus! It is hard to abandon you, and I would gladly save you. When, shortly after your departure, I returned to Byzantium--already on the way the news of the arrest of Belisarius (on account of treachery!) came upon me like a thunderbolt--I believed at first that you, like the Emperor, had been deceived. In vain I tried to gain a hearing from Justinian; he raged against all who had ever been united in ties of friendship to Belisarius. In vain I strove to see Antonina by every means in my power. She was strictly guarded (thanks to your hints) in the Red House. In vain I proved to Tribonianus the impossibility of treachery on the part of Belisarius. He shrugged his shoulders and said: 'I cannot comprehend it! But the proof is striking; this senseless denial of the visits of Anicius. He is lost!' And he was lost. The sentence was pronounced; Belisarius was condemned to death; Antonina to banishment. The Emperor mercifully _mitigated_ the sentence of Belisarius into banishment--far from Antonina's exile--the loss of sight, and confiscation of his property. This terrible judgment lay heavy upon all Byzantium. No one believed in the guilt of Belisarius except the Emperor and the judges. But no one was able to prove his innocence, or change his fate. I was resolved to go with him into banishment; the one-armed with the blind. Then--and may he be blessed for it for ever!--his great enemy, Narses, saved him! He whom I once named to you as the greatest man of the age." "To be sure," said Cethegus to himself, "and now he will also be the most magnanimous." "As soon as the news reached him in the Baths of Nikomedia--whither the sick man had repaired--he hurried back to Byzantium. He sent for me and said: 'You know well that it would have been my greatest pleasure to beat Belisarius thoroughly in the open field; but he who has been my great and noble rival shall not perish miserably because of these lies. Come with me. We two--his greatest friend and his greatest enemy--will together save that impetuous man.' And he demanded an audience of the Emperor, which was at once granted to the enemy of Belisarius. Then he said to Justinian: 'It is impossible that Belisarius is a traitor. His only failing is his blind fidelity to your ingratitude.' But Justinian was deaf. Then Narses laid his marshal's staff at the Emperor's feet and said: 'Well, either you will annul the sentence of the judges, and permit a new inquiry, or you will lose both your generals on one day. For, on the same day that Belisarius goes into exile, I go too. Then see to it, who will guard your doors from the Goths, Persians, and Saracens.' And the Emperor hesitated, and demanded three days' time for consideration, and meanwhile Narses was to be allowed to look through the papers in company with me, and to speak to Anicius and all concerned. I soon perceived from the papers that the worst proof against Belisarius--for I hoped to be able to explain away the consent which he had written upon the tablet found in the house of Photius--was the secret and midnight visits of Anicius, which Belisarius, Antonina, and Anicius himself, obstinately and unreasonably denied. I then spoke to Antonina in private. I told her that these visits and their denial would be the ruin of Belisarius. Then she cried with sparkling eyes: 'Then I alone will be ruined, and Belisarius shall be saved! He really knew nothing of these visits, for Anicius did not come to him--he came to me. All the world shall know it--even Belisarius! He may kill me, but he shall be saved!' And she gave me a little bundle of letters from Anicius, which, certainly, when laid before the Emperor, would explain everything, but would also accuse the _Empress_ in a terrible manner. And how firmly stood Theodora at that time in the esteem of Justinian! I hastened with these letters to Narses. He read them through and said, 'In this case, either Belisarius and all of us are ruined--or the beautiful she-devil will fall! It is for life or death! First come with me to Antonina once more.' And, accompanied by guards, and taking Antonina with us, we hastened to Anicius, who was slowly recovering from his wound in prison." Cethegus stamped his foot; but he read on: "And then we all four went to Justinian. The magnanimous sinner, Antonina, confessed upon her knees the nightly meetings with Anicius, which, however, she had only encouraged in order to deliver the youth from the toils of the Empress. She gave the Emperor the letters of Anicius, which spoke of the seductress, of her manifold arts, of the secret passage to her chamber, and of the turning statue. The poor Emperor broke out into a fearful rage; he would have arrested us all upon the spot for leze majesty, for unlimited calumny. But Belisarius said, 'Do that--to-morrow! But this evening, when the Empress sleeps, let Anicius and me lead you through the turning statue into the chamber of your wife, seize her letters, confront her with Antonina and Anicius, subject the old witch Galatea to the torture, and then see if you do not learn much more than you will like to hear. And if we have deceived ourselves, punish us to-morrow as you like!' The turning, statue! that was so palpable! The assurance of Anicius, that he had often passed this secret door, was so provoking! Such things could scarcely be invented. Justinian accepted our proposition. That very night Anicius led the Emperor and us three into the garden adjoining the Empress's apartments. A hollow plantain-tree concealed the mouth of the subterranean passage which ended under the mosaic of Theodora's ante-room. Until then, Justinian had still preserved his belief in the Empress. But when Anicius pushed a marble slab to one side, and opened a secret lock with a secret key that he had fetched from his house, and the statue became visible, the Emperor, half fainting, sank back into my arms. At last he roused himself, and pressed forward alone past the statue into the chamber. Twilight filled the room. The dimly burning lamp shone over the couch of Theodora. The poor befooled man went up to her with a stealthy and unsteady step. There lay Theodora, fully dressed in imperial garments. A shrill cry from the Emperor called us to his side, and also Galatea from an adjoining chamber, whom I immediately seized. Justinian, stiff with horror, pointed to the couch--we stepped forward--the Empress was dead! Galatea, not less startled than we, fell into convulsions. Meanwhile, we searched the room, and found, upon a golden tripod, the ashes of numerous rolls of parchment. Anicius called for slaves and lights. By this time Galatea had recovered, and, wringing her hands, told how the Empress had left her rooms towards evening--about the time of our audience--without attendants, in order to visit the Emperor, as she frequently did at that hour. She had returned almost immediately, very quiet, but strikingly pale. She had ordered the tripod to be filled with glowing coals, and had then locked herself up in her room. When Galatea knocked some time later, she had answered that she had gone to rest, and required nothing more. On hearing this, the Emperor threw himself again upon the beloved corpse; and now, by the light of the lamps which had been brought, he saw that the little ruby capsule, containing poison, in the ring which had once belonged to Cleopatra, and which Theodora wore upon her little finger, had been opened--the Empress had killed herself! Upon the lemonwood table lay a strip of parchment, upon which was written her favourite motto: 'To live is to rule by means of beauty.' We were still in doubt whether it was the tortures of her malady or the discovery of her threatened fall which had driven her to this desperate deed. But our doubts were soon solved. When the news of Theodora's death spread through the palace, Theophilos, the Emperor's door-keeper, hurried, half desperate, into the chamber of death, threw himself at the Emperor's feet, and confessed that he guessed the connection. He had been for years in the secret service of the Empress, and every time that the Emperor held an audience to which he had given orders that the Empress was not to be admitted, he (the doorkeeper) had apprised the latter of it. She had then almost always heard the most secret councils of the Emperor from a hiding-place in the doorway of an adjacent chamber. Thus yesterday he had, as usual, informed the Empress that we were to have an audience, to which he had been particularly ordered not to admit her. Presently she had entered her hiding-place, but she had scarcely heard a few words spoken by Antonina and Anicius, when, with a smothered cry, she had sank half fainting behind the curtains; but, quickly rising, she had made a sign to him to keep silence, and then disappeared.--Narses pressed the Emperor to question Galatea upon the rack, but Justinian said, 'I will inquire no further.' "Day and night he remained alone near the corpse of the still beloved woman, after which he caused her to be interred, with the highest imperial honours, in the church of St. Sophia. It was officially published that the Empress had been suffocated by charcoal fumes while sleeping. The tripod, with the ashes, was publicly exposed. But that night had made Justinian an old man. The complete agreement of the evidence of Antonina, Anicius, Belisarius, Photius, the slaves of Antonina, the litter-bearers who had taken you to Belisarius's house before his arrest--all fully proved that you, in conjunction with the Empress, had persuaded Belisarius, through Antonina, to place himself seemingly at the head of the conspirators; and I swore to the fact that a few weeks ago he had expressed to me his just anger at the project of Photius. "Justinian hastened to the cell where Belisarius was confined, embraced him with tears, begged his forgiveness for himself and for Antonina, who remorsefully confessed all her innocent love-makings, and obtained full pardon. The Emperor, in atonement, begged Belisarius to accept the chief command in Italy. But Belisarius said, 'No, Justinian; my work on earth is finished. I shall retire with Antonina to my most distant villa in Mesopotamia, and there bury myself and my past. I am cured of the wish to serve you. If you will grant me a last favour, then give the command of the army in Italy to my friend and preserver, Narses. He shall revenge me upon the Goths, and upon that Satan called Cethegus!' And the two great enemies embraced before our sympathetic eyes. All this was buried in the deepest secrecy, in order to spare the memory of the Empress; for Justinian still loves her. It was announced that the innocence of Belisarius had been fully proved by Narses, Tribonianus, and me, by means of lately-discovered letters of the conspirators. Justinian pardoned all who had been sentenced; also Scævola and Albinus, who were formerly undone by you. But I tell you the whole truth, in order to warn and save you. For, although I do not know in what way, I am quite convinced that Justinian has sworn your ruin, and entrusted your destruction to the hands of Narses. Your design to found a free and recognised Rome, ruled only by yourself, was madness. To it you have sacrificed everything--even our fair friendship. I shall accompany Belisarius and Antonina, and I will try, in the contemplation of their complete reconciliation and happiness, to forget the disgust, doubt, and vexation with which all human affairs have filled me." CHAPTER XII. Cethegus sprang from his seat, tossed the letter down, and hastily paced his tent. "Feeble creature! and weak-minded Cethegus! to vex yourself that another soul is lost to you! Had you not lost Julius long before you killed him? And yet you still live and strive! And this Narses, whom all fear as if he were God and devil in one--is he, then, really so dangerous? Impossible! He has blindly entrusted Rome to me and mine. It is not his fault that I do not defy him at this moment from the Capitol. Bah! I cannot learn to be afraid in my old days. I trust in my star! Is it foolhardiness? Is it the calmest wisdom? I do not know; but it seems to me that confidence like this led Cæsar from victory to victory! However, I can scarcely learn more from the secret council of Narses in his bath-house than I have learned from this letter." And he tore the papyrus roll into small pieces. "I will start this very day, even if Syphax has overheard nothing at this moment, for I think it is the hour of the bath." Just then Johannes was announced, and, at a sign from Cethegus, was admitted. "Prefect of Rome," said Johannes, "I am come to beg pardon for an old injury. The pain I felt at the loss of my brother Perseus made me suspicious." "Let that rest," said Cethegus; "it is forgotten." "But I have not forgotten," continued Johannes, "your heroic valour. In order at once to honour it and profit by it, I come to you with a proposal. I and my comrades, used to Belisarius's straightforward attacks, find the caution of the great Narses very tiresome. We have now been lying for nearly two months before this cursed pass; we lose men and win no renown. The commander-in-chief will starve the barbarians out. Who knows how long that may last? And there will be a fine butchery if, at last driven by despair, the barbarians break out and sell dearly every drop of their blood! It is clear that if we only had the mouth of that confounded pass----" "Yes, _if_!" said Cethegus, smiling. "It is not ill-defended by this Teja." "Just on that account he must fall! He, the King, is evidently the only one who holds together the whole loose bundle of spears. Therefore I and more than a dozen of the best blades in the camp have formed a league. Whenever it is the King's turn to guard the pass--the approach is so narrow and steep, that only one at a time can attempt a hand-to-hand fight--we, one after the other, taking our turns by lot, will attack him; the others will keep as close as possible to the foremost combatant, will save him if wounded, step into his place when he falls, or, if he is victor and slays the Goth, press forward into the ravine. Besides me, there are the Longobardians Alboin, Gisulf, and Autharis, the Herulians Rodulf and Suartua, Ardarich the Gepide, Gunebad the Burgundian, Chlotachar and Bertchramn the Franks, Vadomar and Epurulf the Alamannians, Garizo the tall Bajuvar, Kabades the Persian, Althias the Armenian, and Taulantius the Illyrian. We should much like to have your terrible sword among us. Will you, Cethegus, be one in our league? I know you hate this black-haired hero." "Gladly," said Cethegus, "as long as I am here. But I shall soon exchange this camp for the Capitol." A strange and mocking smile passed across the face of Johannes, which did not escape Cethegus. But he attributed it to a wrong feeling. "You cannot well doubt my courage," he said, "according to your own words. But there are more important things for me to do than to stamp out the last glimmering sparks of the Gothic war. The orphaned city longs for her Prefect. The Capitol beckons me." "The Capitol!" repeated Johannes. "I think, Cethegus, that a heroic death is also worth something." "Yes, when the aim of one's life is reached." "But no one knows, O Cethegus, how near he has approached his aim. But, another thing: it seems to me as if something is in preparation among the barbarians on their cursed mountain. From the hill near my quarters we can peep a little, through a gap, over the peaks of the lava. I should like you to turn your practised eye in that direction. At least, they shall not surprise us by a sally. Follow me thither. But do not speak of our league to Narses; he does not approve of such things. I purposely chose the hour of his bath for my visit to you." "I will come," said Cethegus. He finished putting on his armour, and, after vainly inquiring for Syphax of the Isaurian sentry, went with Johannes through his own and the central camp of Narses, and finally turned into that on the right wing--the camp of Johannes. Upon the crown of the little hill mentioned by Johannes stood a great many officers, who were eagerly looking through a small gap in the lava into the portion of the Gothic encampment visible to them. When Cethegus had looked for some time, he cried: "There is no doubt about it! They are evacuating this easternmost part of their position; they are pushing the wagons, which were drawn together, apart, and dragging them farther to the right, to the west. That must mean concentration; perhaps a sally." "What do you think, Johannes?" quietly asked a young captain, who had evidently only lately arrived from Byzantium, and who was a stranger to Cethegus, "what do you think? Could not the new catapults reach the barbarians from the point of that rock? I mean the last inventions of Martinus--such as my brother took to Rome." "_To Rome?_" repeated Cethegus, and cast a sharp look at the questioner and at Johannes. He felt himself suddenly turn hot and cold--a fright came over him, more terrible still than he had experienced when he had heard of the landing of Belisarius, of Totila's election, of Totila's march to Rome at _Pons Padi_, of Totila's entrance into the Tiber; or of the arrival of Narses in Italy. It seemed to him as if an iron hand were clutching his heart and brain. He saw that Johannes imposed silence on the young questioner with a furious frown. "_To Rome?_" again repeated Cethegus in a low voice, and fixing his eyes, now upon the stranger, now upon Johannes. "Well, yes, of course, to Rome!" at last answered Johannes. "Zenon, this man is Cethegus, the Prefect of Rome." The young Byzantine bowed with the expression of one who sees for the first time some far-famed monster. "Cethegus, Zenon here, a captain who till now has been fighting on the Euphrates, arrived only yesterday evening with some Persian bowmen from Byzantium." "And his brother," asked Cethegus, "has gone to _Rome_?" "My brother Megas," quietly answered the Byzantine--who had now collected himself--"had the order to offer to the Prefect of Rome"--and here he again bowed--"the newly-invented double-catapults for the walls of Rome. He embarked long before me; so I thought that he had already arrived, and was gone to you in Rome. But his freight is very heavy. I am rejoiced to become personally acquainted with the most powerful man of the West, the glorious defender of the Tomb of Hadrian." But Cethegus cast another sharp look at Johannes, and, abruptly bowing to all present, turned to go. When he had gone a few paces he suddenly looked back, and caught sight of Johannes, with both his fists raised in anger, scolding at the talkative young archon. A cold shudder ran through the Prefect. He intended to reach his tent by the shortest cut, and, without waiting for Syphax and his discoveries, to mount his horse and hasten to Rome without taking leave. The shortest way to get to his tent was to leave the camp of Johannes, and walk along the straight line of the semicircle formed by the whole encampment. In front of him a few Persian bowmen were riding out of the camp commanded by Johannes. And some peasants who had sold wine to the soldiers were also permitted to pass unhindered by the sentinels. These sentries were all Longobardians, to whom, as everywhere, the exits of this camp were entrusted by Narses. As Cethegus was about to follow his countrymen, these sentries stopped him with their spears. He caught at the shafts and angrily pushed them aside. At this one of the Longobardians blew his horn; the others pressed more closely round Cethegus. "By order of Narses!" said Autharis, the captain. "And those?" asked Cethegus, pointing to the peasants and the Persians. "Those are not you," said the Longobardian. At the sound of the horn a troop of guards had hurried up. They bent their bows. Cethegus silently turned his back on them and returned to his tent by the way that he had come. Perhaps it was only his suddenly-aroused mistrust which made him imagine that all the Byzantines and Longobardians whom he passed regarded him with half-jeering, half-compassionate looks. When he reached his tent he asked the Isaurian sentry: "Is Syphax back?" "Yes, sir, long since. He is impatiently waiting for you in the tent. He is wounded." Cethegus quickly pushed aside the curtains and entered. Syphax, deadly pale beneath his bronzed skin, rushed to meet him, embraced his knees, and whispered in passionate and desperate excitement: "O my master! my lion! You are ensnared--lost--nothing can save you!" "Compose yourself, slave!" said Cethegus. "You bleed?" "It is nothing! They would not permit me to return to your camp--they began to struggle with me as if in joke, but their dagger-stabs were bitter earnest." "Who? Whose dagger-stabs?" "The Longobardians, master, who have placed double guards at all the entrances of your camp." "Narses shall give me a reason for this," said Cethegus angrily. "The reason--that is, the pretext--he sent Kabades to inform you of it--is a menaced sally by the Goths. But oh! my lion, my eagle, my palm-tree, my wellspring--you are lost!" And again the Numidian threw himself at his master's feet, covering them with tears and kisses. "Tell me coherently," said Cethegus, "what you have heard." And he leaned against the central support of his tent, crossing his arms behind his back, and raising his head. He did not seem to regard the troubled face of Syphax, but to gaze at vacancy. "O sir--I shall not be able to tell it very clearly--but I succeeded in reaching my hiding-place among the sea-weed. It was scarcely necessary to dive--the weeds hid me sufficiently. The bathing-house is made of thin wood and has been newly covered with linen since the last storm. Narses came in his little boat with Alboin, Basiliskos, and three other men, disguised as Longobardians--but I recognised Scævola, Albinus----" "They are not dangerous," interrupted Cethegus. "And--Anicius!" "Are you not mistaken?" asked Cethegus sharply. "Sir, I knew his eyes and his voice! From their conversation--I did not understand every word--but the sense was clear----" "Would that you could repeat their very words!" "They spoke Greek, sir, and I do not understand it as well as your language--and the waves made a noise, and the wind was unfavourable." "Well, what did they say?" "The three men only came from Byzantium yesterday evening--they at once demanded your head. But Narses said, 'No murder! A just sentence after a process in all form.' 'When is it to be?' asked Anicius. 'So soon as it is time.' 'And Rome?' asked Basiliskos. 'He will never see Rome again!' answered Narses." "Stop!" cried Cethegus. "Wait a moment. I must be quite clear." He wrote a few lines upon a wax tablet. "Has Narses returned from his bath?" "Long ago." "'Tis well." He gave the tablet to the sentinel at the door. "Bring back the answer immediately.--Continue, Syphax." But Cethegus could no longer stand still. He began hastily to pace the tent. "O sir, something monstrous must have happened at Rome--I could not exactly understand what. Anicius put a question; in it he named your Isaurians. Narses said, 'I am rid of the chief Sandil,' and he added, laughing, 'and the rest are well cared for in Rome by Aulus and the brothers Macer, my decoy-birds.'" "Did he name those names?" asked Cethegus grimly. "Did he use that word?" "Yes, sir. Then Alboin said, 'It is well that the young tribunes are gone; it would have cost a hard fight.' And Narses replied, 'All the Prefect's Isaurians must go. Shall we fight a bloody battle in our own camp, and let King Teja burst in upon us?' O sir, I fear that they have enticed your most faithful followers away from you with evil intent." "I believe so too," said Cethegus gravely. "But what did they say about Rome?" "Alboin asked after a leader whose name I had never heard before." "Megas?" asked Cethegus. "Yes, Megas! That was it. How did you know?" "No matter. Continue! What about this Megas?" "Alboin asked how long Megas had been in Rome. Narses said, 'In any case long enough for the Roman tribunes and the Isaurians.'" Cethegus groaned aloud. "But," continued Syphax, "Scævola remarked that the citizens of Rome idolised their tyrant and his young knights. 'Yes.' answered Narses, 'formerly; but now they hate and fear nothing so much as the man who tried by force once more to make them brave men and Romans.' Then Albinus asked, 'But if they were to take his part again? His name has an all-conquering influence.' Narses answered, 'Twenty-five thousand Armenians in the Capitol and the Mausoleum will bind the Romans----'" Cethegus struck his fist fiercely on his forehead. "'Will bind them more strictly than Pope Pelagius, their treaty, or their oath.' 'Their treaty and their oath?' asked Scævola. 'Yes,' answered Narses, 'their oath and treaty! They have sworn only to open their gates to the Prefect of Rome.' 'Well, and then?' asked Anicius. 'Well', they know, and they knew then, that now the Prefect of Rome is called--Narses. _To me, not to him_ have, they sworn!'" Cethegus threw himself upon his couch and hid his face in his purple-hemmed mantle. No loud complaint issued from his heaving chest. "Oh, my dear master!" cried Syphax, "it will kill you! But I have not yet finished. You must know all. Despair will give you strength, as it does to the snared lion." Cethegus raised his head. "Finish," he said. "What I have still to hear is indifferent; it can only concern me, not Rome." "But it concerns you in a fearful manner! Narses went on to say, after a few speeches which escaped me in the noise of the waves--that yesterday, at the same time as the long-expected news from Rome----" "What news?" asked Cethegus. "He did not mention what. He said, 'At the same time, Zenon brought me word to open the sealed orders which I carry from the Emperor; for the latter rightly judges that any day may bring about the destruction of the Goths. I opened and'--O master, it is dreadful----" "Speak!" "Narses said, 'All the great Justinian's littleness is exposed in these orders. I believe he would more easily pardon Cethegus for having enticed him to blind Belisarius, than for having been in collusion with Theodora, for having been the seducer of the Empress! A frightful anachron'--I did not understand the word." "Anachronism!" said Cethegus, quietly righting Syphax. "'For having deceived and outwitted him. The fate which Cethegus almost brought upon Belisarius, will now fall upon his own head--the loss of his sight.'" "Really!" said Cethegus with a smile. But he involuntarily felt for his dagger. "Narses said further," continued Syphax, "that you were to suffer the punishment which, in blasphemous desecration of Christ's death, and contrary to the law of the Emperor Constantine, you had lately introduced into Rome. What can he mean by that?" added Syphax anxiously. "Crucifixion!" said Cethegus as he put up his dagger. "O master!" "Softly! I do not yet hang in the air. I still firmly tread the hero-nourishing earth. Conclude!" "Narses said that he was a general and no executioner, and that the Emperor would have to be contented if he only sent him your head to Byzantium. But oh, not that! Only not that--if we _must_ die!" "We?" said Cethegus, who had fully gained his usual calmness. "_You_ have not deceived the great Emperor. The danger does not threaten you." But Syphax continued: "Do you not know then? Oh, do not doubt it. All Africa knows that if the head of a corpse is wanting, the soul must creep for ages through dust and mire, in the shape of a vile and filthy headless worm. Oh, they shall not separate your head from your trunk!" "It still stands firm upon these shoulders of mine, like the globe on the shoulders of Atlas. Peace--some one comes." The Isaurian who had been sent to Narses, entered with a sealed letter. "To Cethegus Cæsarius: Narses, the magister militum. There is nothing to prevent your carrying out your wish to go to Rome." "Now I understand," said Cethegus, and read on: "The sentinels have orders to let you ride forth. But, if you insist upon going, I will give you a thousand Longobardians under Alboin as an escort, for the roads are very unsafe. As, in all probability, an attempt will be made by the Goths, to-day or tomorrow, to break through our lines, and repeated foolhardy sallies on the part of my soldiers have led to the loss of leaders and troops, I have ordered that no one be permitted to leave the camp without my express permission, and have entrusted the watch, even that of the tents, to my Longobardians." Cethegus sprang to the entrance of his tent, and tore the curtains open. His four Isaurians were just being led away. Twenty Longobardians, under Autharis, drew up before the tent. "I had thought of escaping to-night," he said to Syphax, turning back. "It is now impossible. But it is better so, more dignified. Rather a Gothic spear in my breast, than a Grecian arrow in my back. But I have not yet read all that Narses writes." He read on: "If you will come to my tent, you will learn what measures I have taken against the probably great bloodshed which will ensue if the barbarians venture to sally, as they threaten. But I have still a painful communication to make to you. News, which reached me yesterday evening by sea from Rome, informs me that your tribunes and the greater part of the Isaurians have been killed." "Ah! Licinius, Piso, Julianus!" cried the Prefect, startled out of his icy and defiant calmness by deep pain. After a pause he controlled his emotion sufficiently to take up the letter and read on: "When they had been quietly admitted into the city (shamefully decoyed!) they refused to take the oath of allegiance to the Emperor. They tried, contrary to their promise, to use force. Lucius Licinius attempted to take the Capitol by storm; Piso, the Porta Latina; Salvus Julianus, the Mausoleum. They fell, each before the place which he attacked. What remained of the Isaurians were taken prisoners." "My second Julius follows the first!" cried Cethegus. "Well, I do not need an heir, for Rome will never now be mine! It is over! The great struggle for Rome is over! And brute force, small cunning, has conquered the mind of Cethegus as it did the sword of the Goth. O Romans, Romans! _You, too, my sons?_ You are my Brutus. Come, Syphax, you are free. I go to meet death. Go back to your deserts." "O master!" cried Syphax, sobbing passionately, as he crouched at the feet of Cethegus. "Do not send me from you! I am not less faithful than Aspa! Let me die with you!" "Be it so," said Cethegus quietly, and laying his hand upon the Moor's head. "I have loved you, my panther! Then die with me. Give me my helm, shield, sword, and spear." "Whither go you?" "First to Narses." "And then?" "To Vesuvius!" CHAPTER XIII. King Teja's intention was to throw himself at night with all his armed men--except a few guards who would be left in the ravine--into the camp of Narses, and there, favoured by the darkness and surprise, to commit great carnage. Then, when the last of his warriors had fallen, and--probably at daybreak--the enemy prepared to assault the pass, the unarmed people--at least those who did not prefer slavery to death--were to seek an honourable grave in the neighbouring crater of Vesuvius, after which the few remaining defendants of the pass would sally forth and die fighting. When the King called his people together, and left the alternative to their choice, he was filled with pride and joy to find that not one voice among the thousands of women and children--for all the boys from ten years of age and all the old men were armed--was raised in favour of dishonour rather than death. His hero soul rejoiced in the thought that his whole race, by a deed unheard of in the history of nations, would die a glorious and heroic death, and worthily seal the renown of their great past. However, the despairing idea of the grim hero was not to be carried out. His dying eyes were to behold a brighter and more consoling picture. Narses, ever watchful and wary, had noticed the mysterious preparations of his enemies even sooner than Johannes and Cethegus, and had called a meeting of generals, which was to be held in his tent at the fifth hour, in order to explain to them his counter-measures. It was a lovely September morning, full of shining light and shining mist over land and sea; a golden glow, such as, even in Italy, is only poured forth in like wondrous beauty over the Bay of Neapolis. Into the clear sky curled the white cloud of smoke from the summit of Vesuvius. Upon the curved line of the shore the smooth and gentle waves rolled in a rhythmic measure. Close to the edge of the water--so close that the ripples of the waves often wetted his steel-shod feet--a lonely man walked slowly along, carrying his spear over his shoulder, and apparently coming from the left wing of the Byzantine army. The sun glistened upon his round shield, upon his splendid armour. The sea-breeze played with his crimson crest. It was Cethegus; and the way he was going led to the gates of death. He was followed at a short distance by the Moor. He soon reached a little promontory which stretched out into the bay, and going to its outer point, he turned and looked towards the northwest. There lay Rome--his Rome. "Farewell!" he cried with deep emotion; "farewell, ye seven immortal hills! Farewell, old Tiber stream! thou that hast laved the venerable ruins through many centuries. Twice hast thou tasted my blood; twice hast thou saved my life. Now, kindly River-god, thou canst save me no more! I have striven and fought for thee, my Rome, as none of thy children, not even Cæsar, has ever done before.--The struggle is over; the general without an army is vanquished. I now acknowledge that a mighty intellect may possibly supply the place of a single man, but not the want of a whole nation's patriotism. Intellect can preserve its own youth, but it cannot renew that of others, I have tried to do what is impossible; for to do only what is possible is common; and it is better to fall striving for the superhuman than to be lost in dull resignation among the common herd. But"--and he kneeled down and wet his hot forehead with the salt water--"be thou blessed, Ansonia's sacred flood; be thou blessed, Italians sacred soil!"--and he put his hand deep into the sea sand--"thy most faithful son parts from thee with a thankful heart--moved, not by the terrors of approaching death, but only by thy beauty. I forebode for thee, Italia, an oppressive foreign rule; I have not been able to turn it aside, but I have offered up my heart's blood; and if the laurels of thy Empire are for ever withered--may the olive of thy people's love of freedom still bloom amid the ruins of thy cities, and may the day quickly come when no foreign master rules in all the length and breadth of the land, and when thou art mistress of thyself from the sacred Alps to the sacred sea!" He rose quietly, and now walked more rapidly through the centre camp to the tent of the commander-in-chief. When he entered it, he found all the generals and officers assembled. Narses called to him in a friendly voice, saying: "You come at the right moment, Cethegus. Twelve of my officers, whom I have discovered in a foolish league, such as barbarians, but not the scholars o£ Narses, might make, have appealed to you in excuse. They say that what is shared in by the wise Cethegus cannot be foolish. Speak! have you really joined this league against Teja?" "I have; and when I leave you--let me be the first, Johannes, without casting lots--I go straight to Vesuvius. The hour of the King's watch approaches." "This pleases me, Cethegus." "Thanks. It will, no doubt, save you much trouble, _Prefect of Rome_," answered Cethegus. A movement of extreme surprise escaped all present; for even those who were initiated into the secret were amazed that Cethegus knew the position of affairs. Narses alone remained unmoved. He merely said in a low voice to Basiliskos: "He knows all, and it is well that he does so." Then he turned to Cethegus and said: "It is not my fault, Cethegus, that I did not tell you sooner of your dismissal; the Emperor had strictly forbidden me to do so. I approve of your resolve, for it agrees with my best intentions.--The barbarians shall not have the pleasure of slaying another myriad of my people tonight. We will march forward at once with all our troops, including both our wings, to within a spear's throw from the pass. We will not leave the Goths room to sally far out. The first step they take beyond the mouth of the ravine shall be amongst our spears. I have also nothing to object, Cethegus, if volunteers offer to fight that King of terrors. With his death, I hope, the resistance of the Goths will cease. Only one thing makes me anxious. I have long ago ordered up the Ionian fleet--for I expected that all would be over a few days earlier--and yet it has not arrived. The ships are to take the captured barbarians on board at once, and carry them to Byzantium.--Has the swift-sailer which I sent to gather news beyond the Straits, of Regium not yet returned. Captain Konon?" "No, general. Neither has a second swift ship, which I sent after the first." "Can the late storm have damaged the fleet?" "Impossible, general! It was not violent enough. And the fleets according to the last reports, lay safe at anchor in the harbour of Brundusium." "Well, we cannot wait for the ships! Forward, my leaders! We will march at once to the pass. Farewell, Cethegus! Do not let your dismissal disquiet you. I fear that you will be menaced with many a troublesome process when the war is ended. You have many enemies, rightly and wrongly. There are bad omens against you. But I know that from the very beginning you have believed in only one omen--'The only omen'----" "'Is to die for the fatherland!' Grant me one more favour, Narses. Allow me--for my Isaurians and tribunes are in Rome--to gather round me all the Italians and Romans whom you have divided among your troops, and lead them against the barbarians." For one moment Narses hesitated. Then he said: "Well, go; gather them together and lead them--to death," he added in a low voice to Basiliskos. "There are at most fifteen hundred men. I do not grudge him the pleasure of falling at the head of his countrymen. Nor them the pleasure of falling behind him!--Farewell, Cethegus." Silently greeting Narses with his uplifted spear, Cethegus left the tent. "H'm!" said Narses to Alboin, "you may well look after him, Longobardian. There goes a remarkable piece of universal history. Do you know who that is marching away?" "A great enemy to his enemies," said Alboin gravely. "Yes, wolf, look at him again; there goes to his death--the last Roman!" When all the leaders, except Basiliskos and Alboin, had left Narses, there hurried into the tent from behind a curtain, Anicius, Scævola, and Albinus, still in the disguise of Longobardians, and with faces full of alarm. "What!" cried Scævola, "will you save that man from his judges?" "And his body from the executioner; and his fortune from his accusers?" added Albinus. Anicius was silent; he only clenched his hand upon the hilt of his sword. "General," said Alboin, "let these two brawlers put off the dress of my people. I am disgusted with them." "You are not wrong there, wolf!" said Narses; and turning to the others he said, "you need no further disguise. You are useless to me as accusers. Cethegus is judged; and the sentence will be carried out--by King Teja. But you, you ravens, shall not hack at the hero after he is dead." "And the order of the Emperor?" asked Scævola stubbornly. "Even Justinian cannot blind and crucify a dead man. When Cethegus Cæsarius has fallen, I cannot wake him up again to please the Emperor's cruelty. And of his money, you, Albinus, shall not receive a single solidus, nor you, Scævola, one drop of his blood. His gold is for the Emperor, his blood for the Goths, and his name for immortality." "Do you wish the death of a hero for that wretch?" now asked Anicius angrily. "Yes, son of Boëthius; for he has deserved it! But you have a veritable right to revenge yourself on him--you shall behead the fallen man, and take his head to the Emperor at Byzantium. Do you not hear the tuba? The fight has commenced!" CHAPTER XIV. When King Teja saw the whole of Narses' forces advancing towards the mouth of the pass, he said to his heroes: "It seems that instead of the stars, the mid-day sun is to shine upon the last battle of the Goths! That is the only change in our plan." He then placed a number of warriors in front of the hollow in the lava, showed them the royal treasure and the corpse of Theodoric, raised upon a purple throne, and ordered them to pay attention while the fight for the pass was raging, and, on receiving a sign from Adalgoth--to whom and Wachis he had confided the last defence of the pass--at once to throw the throne and the coffers into the crater. The unarmed people pressed together round the lava cave--not a tear was seen, not a sigh was heard. Teja arranged his men into hundreds, and these hundreds into families, so that father and sons, brothers and cousins, fought at each other's side; an order of battle the terrible obstinacy of which the Romans had often experienced since the days of the Cimbrians and Teutons, of Ariovist and Armin. The natural construction of the last battlefield of the Goths necessitated of itself the old order of battle inherited from Odin--the wedge. The deep and close columns of the Byzantines now stood in orderly ranks from the shore of the sea to within a spear's throw from the mouth of the pass: a magnificent but fearful spectacle. The sun shone brightly upon their weapons, while the Goths still stood in the deep shadow of the rocks. Far away over the spears and standards of the enemy, the Goths beheld the lovely blue sea, the surface of which flashed with a silvery light. King Teja stood near Adalgoth, who carried the banner of Theodoric, at the mouth of the pass. All the poet was roused in the Hero-King. "Look!" he said to his favourite, "what more lovely place could a man have to die in? It cannot be more beautiful in the heaven of the Christian, nor in Master Hildebrand's Asgard or Breidablick. Up, Adalgoth! Let us die here, worthy of our nation and of this beauteous death-place." He threw back the purple mantle which he wore over his black steel armour, took the little harp upon his left arm, and sang in a low, restrained voice: "From farthest North till Rome--Byzant-- The Goths to battle call! In glory rose the Goths' bright star-- In glory shall it fall! Our swords raised high, we fight for fame; Heroes with heroes vie; Farewell, thou noble hero-race-- Up, Goths, and let us die!" And he shattered the still vibrating harp upon the rocks at his feet. "And now, Adalgoth, farewell! Would that I could have saved the rest of my people! Not here; but by an unobstructed retreat to the north. It was not to be. Narses would never grant it, and the last of the Goths cannot _beg_. Now let us go--to death!" And raising his dreaded weapon, the mighty battleaxe with its lance-like shaft, he stepped to the head of the "wedge," Behind him Aligern, his cousin, and old Hildebrand. Behind them Duke Guntharis of Tuscany, the Wölfung, Earl Grippa of Ravenna, and Earl Wisand of Volsinii, the standard-bearer. Behind them again, Wisand's brother, Ragnaris of Tarentum, and four earls, his kinsmen. Then, in ever-broadening front, first six, then ten Goths. The rear was formed of close ranks, arranged by tens. Wachis, halting in the pass near Adalgoth, blew, at a sign from the King, a signal on the Gothic war-horn, and the assaulting force marched out of the ravine. The heroes in league with Johannes stood upon the first level place close before the pass; only Alboin, Gisulf, and Cethegus were still missing. Next behind the ten leaders stood Longobardians and Herulians, who at once greeted the advancing Goths with a hail of spears. The first to rush upon the King, who was easily recognisable by the crown upon his helmet, was Althias the Armenian. He fell dead at once, his skull split to the ears. The second was the Herulian, Rodulf. Holding his spear at his left side with both hands, he rushed at Teja. Teja stood firm, and, receiving the stroke upon his narrow shield, pierced his adversary through the body with the lance-like point of his battle-axe. Rodulf staggered back at the shock, then fell dead. Before Teja could disengage his weapon from the scales of his enemy's mail-coat, Suartua, the nephew of the fallen Herulian, the Persian Kabades, and the Bajuvar Garizo, all attacked him at once. Teja thrust back the last--the nearest and boldest--with such vigour, that he fell in the narrow and slippery lava path, and over a declivity on the right. "Now help, O holy virgin of Neapolis!" cried the tall man as he flew downwards. "Help me, as you have done during all these years of war!" And, but little damaged, Miriam's admirer came to a stop, slightly stunned by his fall. The Herulian Suartua was brandishing his sword over Teja's head, when Aligern, springing forward, struck his arm clean off his shoulder. Suartua screamed and fell. Kabades, who tried to rip up the King's body with his long and crooked scimetar, had his brains dashed out by old Hildebrand's stone axe. Teja, again become master of his battle-axe, and rid of his nearest foes, now sprang forward to attack in his turn. He hurled his axe at a man in a boar-helmet--that is, a helmet decorated with the head and tusks of a wild boar. It was Epurulf, the Alamannian, who fell backwards to the ground. Above Teja bent Vadomar, Epurulf's kinsman, and tried to possess himself of the Gothic King's terrible weapon; but Teja was upon him in a moment, his short sword in his right hand. It flashed, and Vadomar fell dead upon the corpse of his friend. The two Franks, Chlotachar and Bertchramn, hurried up at the same moment, swinging the franciska, a weapon similar to Teja's battle-axe. Both axes whizzed through the air at once. Teja caught one upon his shield; the second, which came hurtling at his head, he parried with his own axe, and in another moment he stood between his two adversaries, whirled his axe round him in a circle, and at one blow the two Franks fell right and left, both their helmets beaten in. At that moment a spear struck the King's shield; it pierced the steel rim, and slightly grazed his arm. As he turned to meet this enemy--it was the Burgundian Gundobad--Ardarich, the Gepide, ran at him from behind with his drawn sword, and struck him a heavy blow on the top of his helmet. But the next moment Ardarich fell, pierced through by the spear of Duke Guntharis; and the King pressed Gundobad, who defended himself valiantly, down upon his knees. Gundobad lost his helmet in the struggle, and Teja thrust the spike of his shield into his throat. But already Taulantius the Illyrian and Autharis the Longobardian stood before Teja. The Illyrian struck at the King's shield with a heavy club made of the root of the ilex, and broke off a piece of the lower rim. At the same time, just above the crack thus made, a lance, hurled by the Longobardian, struck the shield and tore off the fastening of the spike, sticking with its hook into the hole, and dragging the shield down by its weight. Already Taulantius raised his club over the King's head. But Teja did not loiter; sacrificing his half-shattered shield, he dashed it into the Illyrian's visorless face, letting it go; and almost at the same moment he thrust the point of his battle-axe through the breast-plate of Autharis, who was rushing upon him. But now the King stood without a shield, and his distant enemies redoubled their hail of spears and arrows. With axe and sword, Teja parried the thickly falling darts. An alarum from the pass caused him to look round. He saw that the greater part of the warriors whom he had led out of the ravine had fallen. The innumerable projectiles hurled from a distance had done their deadly work, and already, advancing from the left, a powerful division of Longobardians, Persians, and Armenians, had attacked them in the flank, and now mingled in a hand-to-hand fight. On the right the King saw a column of Thracians, Macedonians, and Franks press forward against the guardians of the pass with spears couched; while a third division--Gepidians, Alamannians, Isaurians, and Illyrians, tried to cut off himself and the small troop which still stood at his back from the retreat into the pass. Teja looked sharply towards the pass. For a moment the banner of Theodoric disappeared--it seemed to have fallen. This circumstance decided the King. "Back into the pass! Save Theodoric's banner!" he cried to those behind him, and tried to break through the troop of enemies which surrounded him. But they were in terrible earnest, for they were led by Johannes. "Upon the King," lie cried. "Do not let him through. Do not let him go back! Spears! Throw!" Aligern had come up. "Take my shield!" he cried. Teja caught the proffered shield just in time to receive the lance hurled by Johannes, which would otherwise have pierced his visor. "Back to the pass!" again Teja cried, and rushed with such impetuosity upon Johannes, that the latter fell to the ground. The two nearest Isaurians succumbed to Teja's sword. And now Teja, Aligern, Guntharis, Hildebrand, Grippa, Wisand and Ragnaris hurried back to the pass. But here the battle was already raging. Alboin and Gisulf had stormed the pass, and a heavy, pointed block of lava, hurled by Alboin, had struck Adalgoth on the thigh, and caused him to sink upon his knees. But Wachis had caught the falling banner, and Adalgoth, quickly rising, had pushed the Longobardian, who was pressing forward, out of the pass with the spike of his shield. The sudden return of the King with his little troop of heroes relieved the almost overpowered guardians of the pass. The Longobardians fell in heaps before the unexpected assault in their rear. With loud cries the two guardians of the pass rushed forth, and the Longobardians, carrying their leaders along irresistibly, ran and leaped over the jagged lava in their downward retreat. But they did not run far. They were absorbed by the ranks of Isaurians, and Illyrians, Gepidians and Alamannians, who advanced in force, led by Johannes. Gnashing his teeth, he had risen from his fall, had set his helmet straight, and at once led his men against the pass, into which Teja had now entered. "Forward!" cried Johannes; "up and at him, Alboin, Gisulf, Vitalianus, Zenon! Let us see if this King be really spear-proof!" Teja had now taken up his old position at the mouth of the pass, and leaning upon the shaft of his battle-axe, he rested awhile to cool himself. "Now, barbarian King! the end is at hand! Have you crept again into your snail-shell? Come out, or I will make a hole in your house. Come out, if you be a man!" Thus cried Johannes, twirling his spear over his head in defiance. "Give me three spears!" cried Teja, and gave his shield and battle-axe to Adalgoth, who stood near him still, though wounded. "There! Now, as soon as he falls, follow me out." And he took one step forward out of the pass, without his shield, and holding his three spears in his hands. "Welcome to the open! and to death!" cried Johannes, as he hurled his spear. The spear was accurately aimed at the King's visor. But Teja bent to one side, and the strong ashen lance was shattered against the opposite rock. As soon as Teja hurled his first spear in return, Johannes cast himself upon his face; the spear flew over him and killed Zenon, who stood close behind. Johannes quickly recovered his feet, and rushed at the King like lightning, catching the King's second spear, which immediately followed the first, upon his shield. But Teja, immediately after hurling this second lance with his right hand, had followed it up by a third with his left, and this spear, unnoticed by Johannes, passed completely through the latter's body, the point coming out at his back. The brave man fell. At this his Isaurians and Illyrians were seized with terror; for, after Belisarius, Johannes was looked upon as the first hero of Byzantium. They cried aloud, turned, and fled in wild disorder down the mountain, followed by Teja and his heroes. For one moment the Longobardians, who had again collected together, still held firm. "Come, Gisulf--clench your teeth--let us stand against this death-dealing King," cried Alboin. But Teja was already upon them. His fearful battle-axe glittered above, between them. Pierced through his armour deep into the left shoulder, Alboin fell, and immediately afterwards Gisulf lay on the ground with his helmet shattered. Then there was no more stopping the rest: Longobardians, Gepidians, Alamannians, Herulians, Isaurians and Illyrians, scattered in headlong flight, rushed down the mountain. With shouts of exultation, Teja's companions followed. Teja himself kept to the pass. He called to Wachis for spear after spear, and aiming high over the Gothic pursuers, hurled them at the flying enemy, killing whomsoever he touched. They were the Emperor's best troops. In their flight they carried away with them the Macedonians, Thracians, Persians, Armenians, and Franks, who were slowly climbing the ascent, and fled until they reached Narses, who had anxiously raised himself upright in his litter. "Johannes has fallen!" "Alboin is severely wounded!" they cried as they ran past. "Fly! Back into the camp!" "A new column of attack must be--Ha! look!" said Narses, "there comes Cethegus, at the very nick of time!" And Cethegus it was. He had completed his long ride through all the troops to which Narses had sent Romans and Italians; he had formed these into five companies of three hundred men each, and when they were drawn up in battle array, he took his place quietly at their head. Anicius followed at a distance. Syphax, carrying two spears, kept close behind his master. Letting the defeated fugitives pass through the vacant spaces between their ranks, the Italians marched on. Most of them were old legionaries of Rome and Ravenna, and faithfully attached to Cethegus. The Gothic pursuers hesitated as they met with these fresh, well-ordered troops, and slowly receded to the pass. But Cethegus followed. Past the bloody place, covered with corpses, where Teja had first destroyed the league of the twelve; past the spot farther up, where Johannes had fallen, he marched on with a quiet and steady step, his shield and spear in his left hand, his sword in his right. Behind him, with lances couched, came the legionaries. They marched up the mountain in silence, without the word of command, or the flourish of trumpets. The Gothic heroes would not retreat into the pass behind their King. They halted before the entrance. Guntharis was the first with whom Cethegus came into contact. The Duke's spear was shattered on the shield of Cethegus, and at once Cethegus thrust his spear into his adversary's body; the deadly shaft broke in the wound. Earl Grippa of Ravenna set to work to avenge the Wölfung; he swung his long sword over his head; but Cethegus ran under the thrust, and struck the old follower of Theodoric below the right shoulder with his broad Roman sword. Grippa fell and died. Wisand, the standard-bearer, advanced furiously against Cethegus; their blades crossed; sparks flew from shield and helmet; but Cethegus cleverly parried a too hasty stroke, and before the Goth could recover himself, the broad blade of the Roman had entered his thigh. Wisand tottered. Two of his cousins bore him out of the fight. His brother, Ragnaris of Tarentum, now attacked Cethegus, but Syphax, running up, caught the well-thrust spear in his hand, and before Ragnaris could let fall the shaft, and draw his axe from his belt, Cethegus stabbed him in the forehead. Struck with horror, the Goths retreated before the terrible Roman, and pressed past their King into the ravine. Aligern alone, Teja's cousin, would not yield. He hurled his spear with such force at the shield of Cethegus, that it pierced it; but Cethegus lowered it quickly, and received Aligern, as he rushed forward, on the point of his sword. Severely wounded, Aligern fell into old Hildebrand's arms, who, letting fall his heavy stone axe, tried to carry the fainting man into the ravine. But Aligern's spear had also been well-aimed. The shield-arm of Cethegus bled profusely. But he did not heed it; he pressed on to make an end of both the Goths, Hildebrand and Aligern, and at that moment Adalgoth caught sight of his father's hated enemy. "Alaric! Alaric!" he shouted, and, springing forward, he caught up the heavy stone axe from the ground. "Alaric!" he cried. Cethegus caught the name and looked up. The axe, accurately aimed, came whizzing through the air upon his tall helmet. Stunned, Cethegus fell. Syphax sprang to him, took him in both his arms, and carried him aside. But the legionaries would not retreat; they could not. Behind them, sent by Narses, two thousand Persians and Thracians pressed up the ascent. "Bring hurling spears!" commanded their leader, Aniabedes. "No hand-to-hand fight! Cast spears at the King until he fall. By order of Narses!" The soldiers willingly obeyed this order, which promised to spare their blood. Presently such a fearful hail of darts rattled against the narrow opening of the pass, that not a Goth was able to issue forth and stand before the King. And now Teja, filling the entrance with his body and his shield, defended his people for some time--for a very considerable time--quite alone. Procopius, following the report of eye-witnesses, has described with admiration this, the last fight of King Teja: "I have now to describe a very remarkable fight, and the heroism of a man who is inferior to none of those we call heroes--of Teja. He stood, visible to all, covered by his shield, and brandishing his spear, in front of his own ranks. All the bravest Romans, whose number was great, attacked him alone; for with his death, they thought, the battle would be at an end. All hurled and thrust their lances at him alone; but he received the darts upon his shield, and, repeatedly sallying forth, killed numbers of his adversaries, one after the other. And when his shield was stuck so full of darts that it was too heavy for him to hold, he signed to his shield-bearer to bring him a fresh one. Thus he stood; not turning, nor throwing his shield on his back and retreating, but firm as a rock, dealing death to his foes with his right hand, warding it off with his left, and ever calling to his weapon-bearers for new shields and new spears." It was Wachis and Adalgoth--heaps of shields and spears had been brought to the spot from the royal treasure--who continually handed to Teja fresh weapons. At last the courage of the Romans, Persians, and Thracians sank as they saw all their efforts wrecked against this living shield of the Goths, and all their bravest men slain by the spears of the King. They wavered--the Italians called anxiously upon Cethegus--they turned and fled. Then Cethegus started up from his long stupor. "Syphax, a fresh spear! Halt! Stand, Romans! Roma, Roma eterna!" And raising himself with an effort, he advanced against Teja. The Romans recognised his voice. "Roma, Roma eterna!" they shouted, as they ceased their flight and halted. But Teja had also recognised the voice. His shield bristled with twelve lances--he could hold it no longer; but when he recognised the adversary who was advancing, he thought no more of changing it. "No shield! My battle-axe! Quick!" he cried. And Wachis handed to him his favourite weapon. Then King Teja dropped his shield, and, swinging his axe, rushed out of the pass at Cethegus. "Die, Roman!" he cried. Once again the two great enemies looked each other in the face. Then spear and axe whizzed through the air. Neither thought of parrying the stroke, and both fell. Teja's axe had pierced Cethegus's left breast through shield and armour. "Roma, Roma eterna!" once more cried Cethegus, and fell back dead. His spear had struck the King's right breast. Not dead, but mortally wounded, he was carried into the pass by Hildebrand and Adalgoth. And they had need to make haste. For when, at last, they saw the King of the Goths fall--he had fought without a pause for eight hours, and evening was coming on--all the Italians, Persians, and Thracians, and fresh columns of attack which had now come up, rushed towards the pass, which was now again defended by Adalgoth with his shield; Hildebrand and Wachis supporting him. Syphax took the body of Cethegus in his arms and carried it to one side. Weeping aloud he held the noble head of his master upon his knees, the features of which appeared almost superhuman in the majesty of death. Before him raged the battle. Just then the Moor remarked that Anicius, followed by a troop of Byzantines--Scævola and Albinus among them--was approaching him, and pointing to the body of Cethegus with an air of command. "Halt!" cried Syphax, springing up as they drew near; "what do you want?" "The head of the Prefect, to take to the Emperor," answered Anicius; "obey, slave!" But Syphax uttered a yell--his spear rushed through the air, and Anicius fell. And before the others, who at once busied themselves with the dying man, could come near him, Syphax had taken his beloved burden upon his back, and began to climb up a steep precipice of lava near the pass, which Goths and Byzantines had, till then, held to be impassable. More and more rapidly the slave advanced. His goal was a little column of smoke which rose just at the other side of the cliff. For there yawned one of the small crater chasms of Vesuvius. For one moment Syphax stopped upon the edge of the black rocks; once again he raised the corpse of Cethegus erect in his strong arms, as if to show the noble form to the setting sun. And suddenly master and slave had disappeared. The fiery mountain had received the faithful Syphax and the dead Cethegus, his greatness and his guilt, onto its glowing bosom. The hero was snatched away from the small spite of his enemies. Scævola and Albinus, who had witnessed the occurrence, hastened to Narses, and demanded that the corpse should be sought for on the sides of the crater. But Narses said: "I do not grudge the mighty hero his mighty grave. He has deserved it. I fight with the living, and not with the dead." But almost at the same moment, the tumultuous battle round the pass, which Adalgoth, not unworthy of his royal master, heroically defended against the attacks of the enemy, ceased. For while, standing behind Adalgoth, Hildebrand and Wachis suddenly cried, "Look! look at the sea! The dragon ships! The northern heroes! Harald! Harald!"--the solemn tones of the tuba were heard from below, sounding the signal for a cessation of hostilities--for a truce. Very gladly the fatigued and harassed warriors lowered their weapons. But King Teja, who lay upon his shield--Hildebrand had forbidden every one to draw out the spear of Cethegus from the wound--"for his life would flow out with his blood"--asked in a faint voice: "What do I hear them cry? The northern heroes? The ships? Is Harald there?" "Yes, Harald! He comes to our rescue! He brings safety for the rest of the nation! For us, and for the women and children!" cried Adalgoth joyously, as he knelt at Teja's side. "So thy incomparable heroism, my ever-beloved hero; thy superhuman and untiring efforts, were not in vain! Basiliskos has just come, sent by Narses. Harald has destroyed the Ionian fleet in the harbour of Brundusium; he threatens to land and attack the already exhausted Byzantines; he demands to be allowed to carry away all the remaining Goths, with weapons and goods, to Thuleland and liberty! Narses has agreed; he will honour, he says, King Teja's noble heroism, in the remnant of his people. May we accept? Oh, may we accept, my King?" "Yes," said Teja, as his eyes grew dim. "You may and shall. The rest of my people free! The women, the children, delivered from a terrible death! Oh, happy that I am! Yes, take all who live to Thuleland; and take with you--two of the dead: King Theodoric--and----" "And King Teja!" said Adalgoth: and kissed the dead man's mouth. CHAPTER XV. And so it happened, and this was the manner of it. Immediately after Narses had left his tent, a fisherman was led before him, who had just sailed round the promontory of Surrentum in a small and swift vessel, and who announced that an immense fleet of the Goths was in full sail for the coast. Narses laughed; for he knew that not a Gothic sail was to be found on all the seas. More narrowly questioned, the man was obliged to confess that he had not seen the fleet himself; but merchants had told him of it, and had related that a great naval combat had taken place, in which the Goths had destroyed the Emperor's fleet, at Brundusium. That was impossible, as Narses well knew. And when the fisherman described the appearance of the pretended Gothic ships, according to what his informers had told him, the commander-in-chief cried out: "At last they are coming! Triremes and galleys! They are our ships which are approaching, not Gothic vessels." No one thought of the Viking's fleet, which had not been heard of for four moons, and which, it was believed, had sailed to the north. A few hours later, as the battle was raging round the pass, engrossing the attention of all, the coastguards announced to Narses the fact of the approach of a very large imperial fleet. The ship of the admiral, the Sophia, had been distinctly recognised. But the number of sails was far greater than had been expected. The ships which Narses had sent to urge the coming of the fleet were also among them, sailing first. The strong south-eastern breeze would shortly bring them within sight of the camp. And presently Narses himself could enjoy from the hill the magnificent spectacle of the approach of the fleet, propelled not only by their spreading sails, but also by their long oars. Much relieved, he again turned his attention to the combat upon Vesuvius--when, suddenly, messengers reached him from the camp, affirming the first reports in an alarming manner, or rather, they brought much worse news. They had hurried on in advance of an embassy which reached the litter of Narses just as Cethegus was advancing for the last time against Teja. This embassy consisted of the admiral and captains of the Ionian fleet, who came forward with their hands in chains, and guarded by four Northmen, whose message they had been brought to interpret. They briefly related that they had been attacked by the fleet of the Viking one stormy night, and had lost almost all their ships; that not one could escape to warn Narses, for the enemy had blockaded the harbour. When Jarl Harald had heard of the threatened destruction of the Goths upon Vesuvius, he had sworn to prevent or to share their evil fate. And sending the captured Grecian ships in advance, prudently hiding behind them his dragon-ships, he had hurried to the coast of Neapolis on the wings of the east wind. "And thus," concluded the interpreters, "thus says Harald the Viking: 'Either you will allow all yet living Goths, with all their weapons and goods, to leave the Southland upon our ships and return with us to their fatherland; in return for which we will give up all our thousands of prisoners, and all our prize-ships, except those we need for the transport of the Goths; or we will immediately kill our prisoners, land, and attack you, your camp and army, in the rear. Then see to it, how many of you, when attacked in front by the Goths, in the rear by us, will remain alive! For we Northmen fight to the last man! I have sworn it by Odin.'" Without a moment's hesitation Narses agreed to the departure of the Goths. "I have only sworn to drive them out of the Empire," he said, "not out of the world. It would bring me small renown if I overpowered and slaughtered the poor remains of such a noble nation. I reverence the heroism of this Teja; in forty years of warfare I have never seen his like. And I have no desire to try how my harassed army, which has had a day of the hardest fighting, and has lost almost all its leaders and numbers of its bravest soldiers, would resist these northern giants, who come with untired strength and unconquered courage." And so Narses had immediately sent heralds to Harald and to the pass. The battle ceased; the retreat of the Goths began. In double ranks, reaching from the summit of the mountain down to the sea, the army of heroes formed a lane. The Viking had landed four hundred men, who received the Goths on the sea-shore. But before the march began, Karses signed to Basiliskos and said: "The Gothic war is over--the stag is killed--now away with the wolves which hunted him to the death. How are the wounded leaders of the Longobardians?" "Before I answer," said Basiliskos respectfully, "accept this laurel-wreath, which your army sends to you. It is laurel from Vesuvius; from the pass above; there is heroes' blood upon the leaves." The first impulse of Narses was to push the wreath aside; but after a pause, he said: "'Tis well; give it to me." But he laid it beside him in the litter. "Autharis, Warnfrid, Grimoald, Aripert, Agilulf and Rotharis are dead," Basiliskos now reported. "Altogether the Longobardians have lost seven thousand men; Alboin and Gisulf, severely wounded, lie motionless in their tents." "Good, very good! As soon as the Goths have embarked, let the Longobardians be led away. They are dismissed my service. And say to Alboin, as my parting words: 'After the death of Narses--_perhaps_; but certainly not before.' I will remain here in my litter; support me with the cushions--I cannot stand--but I must witness this wonderful spectacle." And in truth it was a grand and moving sight to behold the last of the Goths, as they turned their backs upon Vesuvius and Italy, and embarked in the high-prowed ships which were to bear them away to the safe and sheltering north. From the ravine, into which not a single enemy had succeeded in penetrating, was heard at intervals the solemn tones of the Gothic war-horns, accompanied by monotonous, grave, and touching strains from the men, women, and children--the ancient death-song of the Gothic nation. Hildebrand and Adalgoth--the last chiefs, the hoary Past and the golden Future--had arranged the order of march. Foremost went, full-armed, five hundred men, led by Wisand, the standard-bearer, who, in spite of his wounds, bravely opened the procession, leaning on his spear. Then followed, stretched upon his last shield, the spear of Cethegus still sticking in his breast, without helmet, his noble and pallid face framed by his long black locks--King Teja, covered with a purple mantle, and carried by four warriors. Behind him came Adalgoth and Gotho, and Adalgoth, softly striking his harp, sang in a low voice: "Give place, ye peoples, to our march: The doom of the Goths is sped! No crown, no sceptre carry we, We bear the noble dead. "With shield to shield, and spear to spear, We march to the Northland cool; Until in grey and distant seas We find the Island Thule. "That is the Isle of the brave and true, Where none dishonour fears; There we will lay our bravest King In his bed of oaken spears. "From off our feet--give place! give place!-- We shake Rome's traitor dust; We only bear our King away-- For the Gothic crown is lost!" When the bier was carried past the litter, Narses called a halt, and said in a low voice in the Latin language: "Mine was the victory, but his the fame! There, take the laurel wreath! Other generations may see greater things, but now. King Teja, I greet you as the greatest hero of all ages!" And he laid the laurel wreath upon the dead man's pallid brow. The bearers again took up the bier, and slowly and solemnly, to the sad sound of Adalgoth's silver harp, the death-song of the people, and the long-drawn tones of the war-horns, the procession marched on towards the sea, which now glowed magnificently in the evening red. Close behind Teja's body was carried a lofty crimson throne. Upon it rested the silent august form of Dietrich of Bern; upon the head the crowned helm; on the left arm the tall shield; a spear leaning against the right shoulder. On the left of the throne marched old Hildebrand, his eyes fixed upon the face of his beloved master, which shone in the magic light of the setting sun. He held aloft the banner with the device of the lion, high above the head of the great Dead. The evening breeze from the Ausonian Sea rustled in the folds of the immense flag, which, in ghost-like speech, seemed to be taking leave of Italian soil. As the corpse was carried past, Narses said: "I know by the shudder which passes across me that this is the wise King of Ravenna! First came a stronger, now a greater man. Let us do this dead man homage." And, with great exertion, he rose upright in his litter, and bent his head reverently before the corpse. Then followed the wounded, supported by or carried in the arms of their followers. This part of the procession was opened by Aligern, who was carried on a broad shield by Wachis and Liuta, assisted by two warriors. Then came the chests and coffers, the baskets and vessels, containing the royal treasure and the goods of the different families, which, until then, had been hidden in the wagons. Afterwards came the great mass of the unarmed people--women, girls, children, and old people--for the boys, from ten years of age upwards, would not part with the weapons which had been entrusted to them, and marched in a separate corps. Narses smiled as the little fair-haired heroes passed, looking up at him with anger and defiance. "Well," he said, "the Goths have taken care that the Emperor's successors and their generals shall not want work!" The procession was closed by the rest of the Gothic army. Innumerable boats lent their assistance in the embarkation of the people and their scanty possessions. Presently all were on board the high-decked vessels of the Northmen. The corpses of Teja and Theodoric, the royal banner, and the royal treasure, were taken into Harald's ship. The great Dietrich of Bern was placed upon his throne at the foot of the mainmast, and his lion-standard hoisted to the mast-head. Old Hildebrand installed himself at the foot of the throne. In the stern of the ship, Adalgoth and Wisand had laid down the body of Teja. The mighty Harald and his beautiful sister approached it sorrowfully. The Viking laid his mailed hand gently upon the dead man's breast, and said: "I could not save thee, bold and daring King! I could not save thee and thy people. Nothing remains but to take thee and the rest of thy folk to the land of the strong and the true, from which you should never have departed. Thus, after all, I bring back to King Frode the Gothic nation." But Haralda said: "I will preserve the body of the noble dead by secret arts, so that it shall endure until we land in our home. There we will vault for him and King Thidrekr a hill-grave near the sea, so that they may together hear the roar of the breakers and hold converse with each other; for they were worthy of each other. Look, my brother! the enemy's army stands in ranks upon the strand; they lower their flags and weapons in reverence, and the sun sinks glowing behind Misenum and yonder islands; a crimson glow covers the sea as with a royal mantle; our white sails are coloured red, and red gold shines upon our weapons! Look how the south wind spreads out the banner of King Thidrekr! The wind, which obeys the will of the gods, points to the north! Up, brother Harald! weigh anchor! direct the rudder! turn the dragon's prow! Up, Freya's wise bird! Fly, my falcon!"--and she tossed her falcon into the air--"point out the way! to the north! to Thuleland! Home! home we take the last of the Goths!" FOOTNOTE: [Footnote 1: Theodoric.] THE END. BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD, SURREY. _H. L. & Co._