A Struggle for Rome, v. 2

by Felix Dahn

  CHAPTER XXII.

  Many days passed before Mataswintha fully recovered from the deliriumof fever and the uneasy slumbers, haunted by terrible dreams, whichfollowed.

  She had become dull and impassive to all that passed around her, takingno interest in the great changes which were in preparation. Sheappeared to have no other feeling than that of the enormity of hercrime. The triumphal exultation which she had felt while rushingthrough 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 thrownher upon her knees, and in her excitement, in the pang of awakeningconscience, 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, whichher own hand had kindled, reddening all the sky; when she heard thecries and lamentations of Ravennese and Goths; the flames seemed toscorch her heart and every cry to call down curses upon her.

  She lost her senses; she was overwhelmed by the consequences of herdeed.

  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 toappear before him again came upon her, for she well knew, and now heardfrom all sides, that the destruction of the magazines would oblige theKing to surrender to his enemies.

  Himself she did not see. Even when he found a moment in which to askpersonally after her health, she had conjured the astonished Aspa on noaccount to let him approach her, although she had left her couch manydays 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 herattendants to the poor with her own hands, and divided amongst them herjewels and gold with unlimited generosity.

  It was one of these visits that she was expecting, after having beenpetitioned by a man in a brown mantle and steel cap to grant a privateaudience to a poor woman of her nation. "She has a message whichconcerns the King. She has to warn you of some treachery whichthreatens 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 refuseto 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 aslave beckoned to the woman, who had been waiting in the court for sometime, to come forward.

  The Queen, sick and sleepless during the night, had only fallen asleepat the eighth hour. She had just awoke, and was very weak.Notwithstanding, she would receive the woman, because she said hermessage concerned the King.

  "But is that really true?" inquired the slave----it was Aspa. "I shouldnot 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 mymistress. 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 andhair covered by a folded kerchief, was relieved against the darkbackground of the spacious chamber, lying upon a couch, near whichstood a round table in mosaic. The golden lamp, which was fixed to thewall above the table, shed a faint light.

  Mataswintha rose and seated herself, with an air of fatigue, upon theedge of her couch.

  "Draw near," she said to the woman. "Thy message concerns the King? Whydost 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 whichthe kingdom stood, and not love, led thee to Witichis.--(How lovely sheis, although pale as death!)--Yet thou art the Queen of the Goths--hisQueen--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 himagainst treason. Listen to me." And she drew nearer, looking keenly atthe Queen.--"How strange," she said to herself; "what similarity ofform!"

  "Treason! still more treason?"

  "So thou too suspectest treason?"

  "It is no matter. From whom? From Byzantium? From without? From thePrefect?"

  "No," the woman answered, shaking her head. "Not from without; fromwithin. Not from a man; from a woman."

  "What dost thou say?" asked Mataswintha, turning still paler. "How cana woman----"

  "Injure the hero? In the devilish wickedness of her heart. Not openly,but by cunning and treachery; perhaps with secret poison, as hasalready happened; perhaps with secret fire."

  "Hold!"

  Mataswintha, who had just risen, staggered back to the table and leanedupon it. But the woman followed her and whispered softly:

  "I must tell thee of an incredible, shameful act! The King and thepeople believe that the lightning set the magazines on fire, but I knowbetter. And _he_ shall know it. He shall be warned by _thee_, so thathe may discover the rank offender. That night I saw a torch-lightpassing through the galleries of the magazines, and it was carried by awoman. _Her_ hand cast it amongst the stores! Thou shudderest? Yes, a_woman_. Wherefore wilt thou go? Hear one other word, and I will leavethee. 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 ofrecognition--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 armsover her face. The hasty movement disturbed her kerchief. Her red-goldhair fell over her shoulders, and through the hair gleamed a goldenbracelet 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 uponthee!"

  With a piercing cry, Mataswintha fell back upon her couch and buriedher 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, tothe great astonishment of the Ravennese, entered the King's palace.

  They assembled there to take counsel as to particular stipulations, andto decide upon the form of surrender.

  Meanwhile the Goths heard only that peace was concluded. The twoprincipal considerations, for the sake of which they had endured allthe grievous war, were obtained. They would be free, and remain inundisturbed possession of the lovely Southland, which had become sodear to them. That was far more than could have been expected,considering the desperate state at which the Gothic cause had arrivedsince the retreat from Rome and the inevitable loss of Ravenna; and theheads of the great families, and other influential men in the army, whowere now made acquainted with the intentions of Belisarius, werecompletely satisfied with the conditions agreed upon.

  The few who refused acquiescence were freely allowed to depart fromRavenna and Italy.

  But, apart from this, the Gothic army in Ravenna had already beendispersed in all directions.

  Witichis saw that it was impossible to feed the Gothic army and thepopulation, as well as the hosts of Bel
isarius, from the produce of theexhausted land; he therefore agreed to the proposal of Belisarius, thatthe Goths, in companies of a hundred or a thousand, should be led outof the gates of the city and dismissed in all directions to theirnative places.

  Belisarius feared the outbreak of despair when the terrible treacherypractised should become known, and he therefore wished for the speedydispersal of the disbanded army. Once in Ravenna, he hoped to be ableto quell any possible rebellion in the open country without difficulty.

  Tarvisium, Verona, and Ticinum, the last strongholds of the Goths inItaly, could not then, for any length of time, resist the forces whichwould be sent against them.

  The execution of these measures was the work of many days. Only whenvery few Goths were left in Ravenna did Belisarius decide upon enteringthe city. And even of the few who remained, half were transferred tothe Byzantine camp, the other half being divided amongst the differentquarters of the city, under the pretext of being ready to crush anypossible resistance on the part of Justinian's adherents.

  But what surprised the Ravennese and the uninitiated Goths the mostwas, that the blue Gothic flag still waved upon the roof of the palace.Certainly it was guarded by a Byzantine instead of by a Gothicsentinel. For the palace was already full of Byzantines.

  Belisarius had taken particular measures against any attempt of thePrefect 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 enteredthe tent of Belisarius, clad in a magnificent suit of armour. He foundonly 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 thepalace in order to ride to meet Belisarius. We have thought ofeverything."

  "Once more of everything!" said Cethegus, with a laugh. "Yet one thingyou have left to me. It is certain that as soon as our plan hassucceeded and become known, that the barbarians all over the countrywill fly into a rage. Revenge and compassion for their King may causethem to commit furious deeds. But all their enthusiasm for Witichis andanger against us would be nipped in the bud; they would considerthemselves betrayed by their King, and not by us, if we could get himto sign a document to the purport that he did not surrender the city toBelisarius as the King of the Goths and a rebel against the Emperor,but simply to Justinian's commander-in-chief. Then the revolt ofBelisarius, which will actually not take place, would seem to the Gothsto have been a mere lie invented by their King in order to hide fromthem the shame of the surrender."

  "That would be excellent; but Witichis will not do it."

  "_Knowingly_, scarcely; but perhaps unknowingly. He has only signed thetreaty in the original yet?"

  "He has signed only once."

  "And the document is in his possession? Good. I will make him sign theduplicate which I have drawn up, so that Belisarius also may possessthe valuable document."

  Procopius looked at it.

  "If he sign this, then, indeed, not a Goth will raise his sword in hisdefence. 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 hiswill. I will now go before you. Excuse me if I do not assist at yourtriumphal 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 wholeaffair! Recall the soldiers!"

  Cethegus remained standing at the entrance of the tent.

  "Belisarius!" cried Procopius, horrified, "what demon has put you intothis temper?"

  "I!" said Antonina proudly. "What do you say now?"

  "I say that great statesmen have no business with wives," criedProcopius 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 sospotted with black treachery."

  "And I will not be so," said Belisarius. "Rather would I ride intoOrcus a prisoner, than as _such_ a conqueror into Ravenna! My lettersto 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 Emperoreight days ago, told him all, and congratulated him on his general'shaving won Ravenna and put an end to the war without the slightestloss."

  "Indeed, Prefect!" cried Belisarius. "You are very ready! Whereforethis zeal?"

  "Because I know Belisarius and his wavering mind. Because you must be_forced_ into taking advantage of your good fortune, and because I wishto make an end to this war which so cruelly devastates my Italy!"

  And he approached Antonina threateningly, who again could not avoid thedemonic fascination of his glance.

  "Dare it! try it now! Dare to retreat, to undeceive Witichis, andsacrifice Ravenna, Italy, and your whole army to a whim of your wife!Then see if Justinian would ever forgive you! On Antonina's soul theguilt! 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 allcases 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 factof 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 accompanyingyou. It is no triumph, but a laying of a trap."

  The population of Ravenna, although in the dark as to the particularconditions, were still certain that peace was concluded, and the longand terrible suffering they had endured at an end. In their joy at thisdeliverance, the citizens had cleared away the ruins caused by theearthquake in many of the streets, and had festively decorated thecity.

  Wreaths, flags, and carpets were hung out; the people crowded theforums, the canals of the lagoons, and the baths and basilicas, curiousto see the hero, Belisarius, and the army which had so long threatenedtheir walls, and had, at last, overcome the barbarians.

  Already some divisions of the Byzantine army marched proudly throughthe gates, while the scattered and scanty Gothic patrols beheld, insilence and indignation, the entrance of their hated enemies into theresidence 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 wasthe last time that he would ever wear the signs of a dignity which hadbrought him nothing but pain and wretchedness.

  "Go, Duke Guntharis," he said to the Woelfung, "Hildebad, my faithlesschamberlain, has left me; thou, therefore, must take his place. Theattendant will show thee the golden chest which contains the crown,helm, and purple mantle, the sword and shield of Theodoric. To-day, forthe first and last time, I will array myself in them, in order todeliver them to a hero who will wear them not unworthily. What noise isthat?"

  "Sire," answered Earl Wisand, "it is a Gothic woman. She has tried toforce her way in thrice already. Send her away!"

  "No; tell her I will listen to her later. She shall ask for me thisevening at the palace."

  As Guntharis left the room, Bes
sas entered with Cethegus.

  The Prefect had given Bessas--without initiating him into thesecret--the duplicate of the capitulation, which the King had yet tosign. He thought that Witichis would take the document moreunsuspiciously from an innocent hand.

  Witichis greeted them as they entered; but at the sight of the Prefectthere passed a shadow across his countenance, which had before beenbrighter than for many months. But he forced himself to say:

  "You here, Prefect of Rome? The war has ended very differently to whatwe expected! However, you may be satisfied. At least no GrecianEmperor, 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 thetreaty 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 takeit.

  But before he could do so, Duke Guntharis hurried into the room withthe 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 charactersare 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 characterH-- 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 thepurple mantle, which they had brought instead of the missing one, uponhis shoulders, and pressing a golden coronet upon his head. Instead ofthe sword, a sceptre was handed to him; and thus adorned, he turned tothe door.

  "You have not yet signed, King," said Bessas.

  "Give it to me," and now Witichis took the parchment from the hand ofthe 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 indifferentvoice, 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 aletter 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 thedocument in his hand.

  "Wait!" he whispered furiously. "You shall yet sign!" And he slowlyfollowed the others.

  The hall leading to the King's apartment was already empty. The Prefectwent into the vaulted gallery which ran round the quadrangle of thefirst story of the palace. The Byzantine-Roman arches afforded a freeoutlook into the large courtyard. It was filled with armed men. At allthe 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. HisGoths are still far behind upon the staircase. The King's horse is ledforward. Bessas holds the stirrups. Witichis is close to it; he liftshis foot. Now comes a blast of trumpets. The door of the staircase isclosed and the Goths shut into the palace! Procopius tears down theGothic flag on the roof. Johannes takes the King's right arm--bravo,Johannes! The King defends himself valiantly--but his long mantlehinders him--he staggers! He falls to the ground! There lies thekingdom of the Goths!"

  "There lies the kingdom of the Goths!" with these words Procopius alsoconcluded the sentences which he wrote down in his diary that night.

  "To-day I have assisted in making an important piece of history," hewrote, "and will take note of it to-night. When I saw the imperial armyenter the gates and the King's palace of Ravenna, I thought that indeedit is not always merit, virtue, or number that ensures success. Thereis a higher power, inevitable necessity. In number and heroism theGoths were superior to us, and they did not fail in every possibleexertion. The Gothic women in Ravenna scolded their husbands to theirfaces when they saw the slight forms, the small number of our troops asthey marched in. Summa: in the most righteous cause, with the mostheroic efforts, a man or a nation may succumb, if superior powers,which have not always the better right on their side, oppose him. Myheart beat with a sense of wrong as I tore down the Gothic flag and setthe golden Dragon of Justinian in its place, as I raised the flag ofevil above the flag of righteousness. Not justice, but a necessitywhich is inscrutable, rules the fate of men and nations. But that doesnot confuse a true man. For not _what_ we do, live, or suffer--_how_ wedo or bear it, makes a man a hero. The Goths' defeat is more honourablethan our victory. And the hand which tore down their banner willchronicle the fame of this people for future generations.Notwithstanding, however that may be--there lies the kingdom of theGoths!"

  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._