Читать книгу A Struggle for Rome (Vol. 1-3) - Felix Dahn - Страница 12

CHAPTER VII.

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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.

A Struggle for Rome (Vol. 1-3)

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