A Struggle for Rome v. 1 Read online

  CHAPTER V.

  Over the King's palace at Ravenna, with all its gloomy splendour andinhospitable spaciousness, lay an air of breathless anxiety.

  The old castle of the Caesars had suffered many disfiguring changes inthe course of centuries, and since the Gothic kings, with all theirGermanic courtiers, had taken the place of the emperors, it hadassumed a very inharmonious aspect, for many chambers, intendedfor the peculiar customs of Roman life, stood, still retainingthe old magnificence of their arrangements, unused and neglected.Cobwebs covered the mosaic of the rich baths of Honorius, and in thetoilet-chamber of Placidia the lizards climbed over the marble framesof the silver mirrors on the walls. On the one side, the necessities ofa more warlike court had obliged the removal of many walls, in order tochange the small rooms of the ancient building into wider halls forarsenals, banqueting and guard-rooms, and, on the other, neighbouringhouses had been joined to the palace by new walls, so as to create astronghold in the middle of the city.

  In the dried-up _piscina maxima_ (large fish-pond) fair-haired boys nowromped, and in the marble halls of the _palaestra_[1] neighed the horsesof the Gothic guards. So the extensive edifice had the dismalappearance partly of a scarcely-preserved ruin, and partly of ahalf-finished new erection; and thus the palace of the present rulerseemed a symbol of his Roman-Gothic kingdom, and of his wholehalf-finished, half-decayed political creation.

  On the day, however, on which Cethegus, after years of absence, onceagain 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, thefate of Europe; who was wondered at, with love or with hate, by Westand by East; the hero of his age; the powerful Theodoric of Verona, ofwhose name--even during his lifetime--Legend had possessed herself; thegreat Amelung, King Theodoric, was about to die.

  So said the physicians--if not to himself, yet to his nearestrelations--and the report soon spread in the great and populous city.

  Although such an end to the secret sufferings of the aged King had beenlong held possible, the news that the blow was at hand now filled allhearts with the greatest excitement.

  The faithful Goths were anxious and grieved, and a dull fear was thepredominating feeling even of the Roman population, for here inRavenna, in the immediate vicinity of the King, the Italians had hadfrequent opportunities of admiring his mildness and generosity, and ofexperiencing 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 withthe Emperor and the Senate, when Boethius and Symmachus bled--hadprotected the Italians from the harshness and violence of his people--anew rule of severity and oppression would commence on the part of theGoths.

  And, finally, another and more noble influence was at work; thepersonality of this hero-King had been so grand, so majestic, that eventhose who had often wished for the destruction of himself and hiskingdom, could not--at the moment when this luminary was about to beextinguished--revel in a feeling of malicious joy, and were unable toovercome a deep depression.

  So, since early morning--when servants from the palace had been seenrushing in all directions, and special messengers hurrying to thehouses of the most distinguished Goths and Romans--the town had been ina state of great excitement.

  Men stood together by pairs or in groups in the streets, squares andbaths, questioning or imparting to each other what they knew; trying todetain some person of importance who came from the palace, and talkingof the grave consequences of the approaching catastrophe. Women andchildren, urged by curiosity, crouched on the thresholds of the houses.

  As the day advanced, even the populations of the nearest towns andvillages--principally consisting of sorrowing Goths--streamed into thegates 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 thosedays, had foreseen this excitement, and perhaps expected somethingworse.

  At midnight all the entrances to the palace had been closed, andguarded by Goths. In the Forum Honorum, before the palace, a troop ofcavalry had been placed. On the broad marble steps that led up to thegrand 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 admittancebe gained to the palace, and only the two leaders of theinfantry--Cyprian, the Roman, and Witichis, the Goth, were allowed togrant 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 allthe Goths and Romans whose rank or importance had procured themadmittance, scattered in groups about the halls and corridors.

  In the once noisy banqueting-hall the young leaders of the Gothichundreds and thousands stood together, silent and sorrowing, orwhispering their anxious inquiries, while here and there an elderlyman--a companion-at-arms of the dying hero--leaned in the niche of abow-window, seeking to hide his ungovernable sorrow. In the middle ofthe hall stood--pressing his head against a pillar and weepingloudly--a rich merchant of Ravenna. The King, now on the point ofdeath, had once pardoned him for joining in a conspiracy, and hadprevented 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 foreignembassies--he found a number of distinguished Goths--dukes, earls, andother nobles--who evidently were assembled together to consult upon thesuccession, and the threatened overthrow of all existing conditions.

  There was the brave Duke Thulun, who had heroically defended the townof Arles against the Franks; Ibba, the conqueror of Spain; and Pitza,who had been victorious over the Bulgarians and Gepidians--all mightywarriors, proud of their nobility, which was little less than that ofthe royal house of Amelung; for they were of the house of Balthe,which, through Alaric, had won the crown of the Visigoths; and no lessproud of their services in war, which had protected and extended thekingdom.

  Hildebad and Teja were with them. They were the leaders of the partywhich had long since desired a more severe treatment of the Italians,whom they at once hated and shunned; but had been forced, against theirwill, to give way to the milder opinions of the King.

  What looks of hatred shot from their eyes upon the aristocratic Romanwho now came to witness the death of the great Gothic hero!

  Cethegus walked quietly past them, and lifted the heavy woollen curtainthat divided this from the next apartment--the ante-chamber of thesick-room.

  On entering, he greeted with a profound inclination a tall and queenlywoman, enveloped in a black mourning veil, who, grave and silent, butcomposed and without tears, stood before a marble table covered withrecords. It was Amalaswintha, the widowed daughter of Theodoric.

  A woman above thirty years of age, she was still extremely, thoughcoldly, beautiful. She wore her rich dark hair parted and waved in thefashion of the Greeks. Her high forehead, her large, open eyes, herstraight nose, the pride expressed in her almost manly features, andthe majesty of her full form, gave her an imposing dignity, and, cladin a garment folded in true Grecian style, she resembled a Juno ofPolycletus which had descended from its pedestal. Her arm, moresupporting than supported, was laid within that of a youth of aboutseventeen years of age--Athalaric, her son, the heir of the kingdom ofthe Goths.

  He did not resemble his mother, but had the nature of his unhappyfather, Eutharic, whom a wasting heart disease had hurried to the gravein the bloom of life. For this reason, Amalaswintha saw with sorrowthat her son grew daily more like his father; and it was no longer asecret at the court of Ravenna that all the signs of the disease werealready visible in the young man.

  Athalaric was as beautiful as all the other members of this royalhouse, des
cended from the gods. Heavy black eyebrows and long eyelashesshaded his beautiful dark eyes, that now melted with an expression ofdreamy reverie, and now flashed with intellectual brilliancy. Darkbrown tangled locks hung over his pale temples, on which, when he wasexcited, the blue veins swelled convulsively. On his noble browphysical pain or sad resignation had traced deep lines, strange to seeon his youthful countenance. Marble paleness and vivid red quicklyalternated in his transparent cheeks. His tall but bent-frame generallyseemed to hang, so to speak, on its hinges, as if tired, and only attimes he drew himself up with startling suddenness.

  He did not notice Cethegus, for, leaning on his mother's breast, he hadin his sadness flung his Grecian mantle over that young head, which wassoon destined to wear a crown.

  At some distance from these two figures, near an open window thatafforded 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 anddazzling beauty; it was Mataswintha, the sister of Athalaric.

  She resembled her mother in height and nobleness of form, but her moresharply-cut features were filled with fiery and passionate life, whichwas only slightly concealed under an aspect of artificial coldness.

  Her figure, in which blooming fulness and delicate slenderness wereharmoniously blended, reminded one of that Artemis in the arms ofEndymion, in the group sculptured by Agesander, which, as legendreports, was banished from the town by the Council of Rhodes becausethe marble representation of the most perfect maidenly beauty andhighest sensuousness had driven the youths of the island to madness andsuicide. The magic of ripe virgin beauty trembled over the whole formof Mataswintha. Her rich waving hair was of a dark-red colour, with aglimmering metallic light upon it, and had such an extraordinary effectthat it had procured for the Princess, even amongst her own nation,whose women were celebrated for their splendid golden locks, theappellation of "Beautiful-hair." Her nose was finely-shaped, withdelicately-chiselled nostrils, which quivered at the slightest emotion;and freshly bloomed the full and rosy lips of her lovely mouth. But themost striking feature of this extraordinary beauty was the grey eye,not so much on account of its changing colour as from the wonderfulexpression with which, though generally lost in reverie, it couldsometimes flash with burning passion.

  Indeed, as she stood there leaning against the window, in thehalf-Hellenic, half-Gothic costume, which her fancy had combined, herfull white arm wound round the dark column of porphyry, and gazingthoughtfully out into the evening air, her seductive beauty resembledthat of those irresistible wood or water-nymphs, whose enchanting powerof love has always been celebrated in Northern legend.

  And so great was the power of this beauty, that even the burnt-outbosom of Cethegus, who had long known the Princess, was moved to newadmiration as he entered.

  But his attention was immediately claimed by Cassiodorus--the learnedand faithful minister of the King, the first representative of thatbenevolent but hopeless policy of reconciliation, which had beenpractised in the Gothic Kingdom for many years--who was standing nearAmalaswintha.

  This old man, whose venerable and mild features were no less filledwith an expression of sorrow at the loss of his royal friend than byanxiety for the future of the kingdom, rose, and went with totteringsteps towards Cethegus, who reverently bent his head.

  The aged man's eyes rested upon him for some moments, swimming intears; at last he sank sighing upon the cold breast of Cethegus, whodespised him for this weakness.

  "What a day!" complained Cassiodorus.

  "A fateful day," said Cethegus gravely. "Strength and presence of mindare 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 andtearless.

  "The disciple of the Stoics preserves, even on this day, the wisdom ofZeno and her own composure," said Cethegus.

  "Say, rather, that the grace of God wonderfully upholds her soul," saidCassiodorus reprovingly.

  "Patrician," began Amalaswintha, "the praetorian prefect has proposed youto me for the performance of an important business. His word would besufficient, even had I not known you so long. You are the self-sameCethegus who transposed the first two songs of the? 'AEneid' intoGrecian hexameters?"

  "Infandum renovare jubes, regina, dolorem. A youthful sin, Queen," saidCethegus, smiling. "I bought up all the copies and burnt them on theday on which Tullia's translation appeared."

  Tullia was the pseudonym of Amalaswintha. Cethegus knew it, but thePrincess had no suspicion of his knowledge. She was flattered in herweakest 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 strongand 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 sinceagreed to this wise arrangement," said Cethegus.

  "They did so, but the mob is fickle. The rough men despise thegovernment of a woman"--and at this thought Amalaswintha knit her browin anger.

  "It is certainly contrary to the political principles both of Goths andRomans," said Cassiodorus apologetically. "It is quite a new thing thata woman----"

  "Whatever may be thought about it, it is a fact," interposed thePrincess. "Nevertheless, I count on the fidelity of the Goths ingeneral, though single aristocratic individuals may aim at the crown. Ialso 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 suddenlyexcited, but his countenance remained impassive.

  "Rome will never accustom herself to the rule of the Goths; she willalways 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 thevacancy of the throne, a movement may break out in Rome against theregency, be it for annexation to Byzantium, be it for the election ofan Emperor of the Western Empire."

  Cethegus, as if in reflection, cast down his eyes.

  "For this reason," quickly interposed the Princess, "everything must bedone before the news reaches Rome. A faithful, energetic man mustreceive the oaths of the garrison for me--I mean for my son; must takepossession of the most important gates and squares, intimidate theSenate and the nobles, win the people to my cause, and irrevocablyconfirm 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 theground.

  Cethegus stooped to pick it up.

  He had only this one moment for the crowding thoughts that passedthrough 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 thefools really so blind as to press this offer upon him? And if it wereso, what should he do? Should he seize the occasion? Should he strikeat once, in order to win Rome? And for whom? For Byzantium or for anEmperor 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 momentin which he stooped.

  But his quick mind needed no more. He had seen, while in the act ofstooping, the unsuspicious, trusting look of Cassiodorus, and, givingthe 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, "hegave another proof of his deep knowledge of mankind. He has seen thekernel through the shell."

  "What do you mean?" asked Ama
laswintha.

  "Queen, appearances might have deceived him. I confess that I do notlike 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 someyears. After having experienced varied passions, I now live in the calmand 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, desirethat the wise should govern, I wish that a Queen should reign over myfatherland who is only a Goth by birth, but in her soul a Greek, and byher virtues a Roman. For her sake I will sacrifice my leisure to hatedbusiness. But only on condition that this shall be my last office ofstate. I will undertake your commission, and answer for Rome with myhead."

  "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 yoursignature. _His_ is still wanting."

  Amalaswintha dipped the Cnidian reed-pen into the vessel filled withcrimson ink, which was used by the Amelungs as well as by the RomanEmperors.

  "Come, write thy name, my son," she said.

  Athalaric, standing and leaning with both arms on the table, had keenlyobserved Cethegus during the above conversation. Now he stood erect. Hewas accustomed to act with the usual arrogance of a Crown Prince andthe petulancy of an invalid.

  "No," he said impatiently; "I will not write. Not only because I donot trust this cold Roman--I do not trust you in the least, you proudman--but it is revolting that, while my noble father still breathes,you already quarrel about his crown. You dwarfs! About the crown of agiant! Shame on your insensibility! Behind those curtains the greatesthero of the century is dying, and you think already of the partition ofhis garment!"

  He turned his back upon them and went slowly to the window, where hepassed 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 atthe marble staircase, "who is that man in the blue steel helmet, who isjust coming round that pillar? Say, who is it?"

  "Let me see," said the youth, bending forward. "That? Oh! that is EarlWitichis, 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 theminister.

  "Let him alone," sighed Amalaswintha. "If he will not, no power onearth can make him."

  Further questions on the part of Cethegus were cut short, for thethree-fold curtain, that shut out all the noise of the ante-chamberfrom the King's bedroom, was parted.

  It was Elpidios, the Greek physician, who, lifting the heavy folds, nowentered, and announced that the sick man, just awakened from a longsleep, had sent him away, in order to be alone with old Hildebrand, whonever stirred from his side.