A Struggle for Rome, v. 3

by Felix Dahn

  CHAPTER VI.

  Above the narrow pass on Vesuvius, which we will call the Ravine of theGoths, a small but deep chasm had been formed by the black blocks oflava. Within it King Teja had concealed the most sacred possession ofthe 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 tothe rocky chamber which the last King of the Goths had chosen for hisroyal 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 postat the southern entrance of the Ravine of the Goths; upon which, nowfrom a distance with arrows, slings, and hurling--spears, now close athand in a bold and sudden attack, the outposts of Narses commencedtheir assaults. None of the brave guardians returned home withoutbringing tokens of such attacks upon shield and armour, or leavingsigns at the entrance of the ravine, in the form of slain enemies.

  This happened so frequently, that the stench arising from the decay ofthe bodies threatened to render any further sojourn in the ravineimpossible. Narses seemed to have counted upon this circumstance, for,when Basiliskos lamented the useless sacrifice, he said, "Perhaps ourslain soldiers will be more useful after death than during their life."But King Teja ordered that the bodies should be thrown by night overthe lava cliffs; so that, horribly mutilated, they seemed a warning toall who should attempt to follow their example. Seeing this, Narsesbegged to be allowed to send unarmed men to fetch away the bodies, afavour which King Teja immediately granted.

  Since retiring into this ravine, the Goths had not lost a single man infight; for only the foremost man in the pass was exposed to the enemy,and, supported by the comrades who stood behind him, this guardian hadnever yet been killed.

  One night, after sunset--it was now the month of September, and alltraces of the battle at Taginae were already obliterated; the flowersplanted by Cassiodorus and the nuns of the cloister round thesarcophagi of King Totila, his bride, and his friend, had put forth newshoots--King Teja, who had just been relieved from his post by Wisand,approached his lava hall, his spear upon his shoulder. Before thecurtain which closed the entrance to his rocky chamber, Adalgothreceived Teja with a sad smile, and, kneeling, offered to him a goldengoblet.

  "Let me still fulfil my office of cup-bearer," he said; "who knows howlong it may last?"

  "Not much longer!" said Teja gravely, as he seated himself. "We willremain here, outside the curtain. Look! how magnificently the bay andthe coast of Surrentum shine in the glowing light left by the settingsun--the blue sea is changed to crimson blood! Truly, the Southlandcould afford no more beauteous frame with which to enclose thelast battle of the Goths. Well, may the picture be worthy of itssetting! The end is coming. How wonderfully everything that Iforeboded--dreamed, and sang--has been fulfilled!"

  And the King supported his head upon both his hands. Only when thesilver 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 theRavine; or I might have said, how it has completed itself. Dost thouremember that night in the wilderness of ivy, marble, and laurel inRome? It was not a battle already fought, a battle of ancient days, ofwhich thou didst sing. No! in a spirit of prophecy, thou hast sung ourlast 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 noNarses shall deprive us. The awful judgment, which our beloved Totilachallenged, has fallen heavily upon himself, his people, and his God.No Heavenly Father has, as that noble man imagined, weighed ourdestinies in a just balance. We fall by the thousand treacheries of theItalians and the Byzantines, and by the brute superiority of numbers.But _how_ we fall, unshaken, proud even in our decay, can be decided byno fate, but only by our own worth. And after us? Who after us willrule in this land? Not for long these wily Greeks--and not the nativestrength of the Italians. Numerous tribes of Germans still exist on theother side of the mountains--and I nominate them our heirs and ouravengers."

  And he softly took up the harp which Adalgoth had laid down, and sangin a low voice as he looked down upon the rapidly darkening sea. Thestars 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," saidTeja. "Soon, methinks, thou wilt also hear this end." And he rosefrom his seat. "Go, my Adalgoth," he said; "leave me alone. I havealready kept thee far too long from"--and he smiled through all hissadness--"from the loveliest of all duchesses. You have but few ofsuch evening hours to spend together, my poor children! If I could butsave your young and budding lives----" He passed his hand across hisbrow. "Folly!" he then cried; "you are but a part of the doomednation--perhaps the loveliest."

  Adalgoth's eyes had filled with tears as the King mentioned his youngwife. He now went up to Teja and laid his hand inquiringly upon hisshoulder.

  "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 Iwill make a speedy end. The warriors shall sally forth and fall inbattle."

  "And the women, the children--the defenceless thousands?"

  "I cannot help them. I am no god. But not a Gothic woman or maiden needfall into slavery under the Byzantines, unless they choose shameinstead of a free death. Look there, my Adalgoth--in the dark night theglow of the mountain is fully seen. Seest thou, there, a hundred pacesto the right.--Ha! how splendidly the fiery smoke rushes from thegloomy mouth!--When the last guardian of the pass has fallen--one leapinto that abyss--and no insolent Roman hand shall touch our pure women.Thinking of _them_--more than of us, for we can fall anywhere thinkingof the Gothic women, I chose for our last battle-field--Vesuvius!"

  And Adalgoth, no longer weeping, but with enthusiasm, threw himselfinto Teja's arms.