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 theThermæof 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."
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 hisunreason, 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 fromyourtyrant."
"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 againstonething. 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."
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 toexculpate."
"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 onlyappearsto 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 miracleagainstthe 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'sworstenemy. 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!"