Teja.
Verily? Thou thinkest it? Then I give ear.
Bishop.
Behold, like the spirit of divine wrath, so hast thou risen up among
us, young man.... Not thy years did the nation count, only thy
deeds.... Old men bowed willingly to thy youth, and since thou hadst
yet a long time to serve, as one of the humblest, wert thou already our
ruler. From the golden throne of Theoderic, where mercy had sat in
judgment, where Totilas bestowed pardon with a smile, rang out sternly
thy bloody word ... And woe clave to us as a poisoned wound.... Pursued
hither and thither beneath the hot outpourings of Vesuvius, we are now
encamped with women and children; while Byzantium, with its hireling
soldiers, holdeth us surrounded.
Teja.
That it surely doth, ha, ha! Not a mouse can come through.
Bishop.
Our gaze wandereth wistfully seaward: for thence hath God promised us
bread.
Teja.
No tidings of the ships?
Ildibad (softly).
Nothing.
Bishop.
Before we armed ourselves for a new war with misery, as free men, true
to the ancient law, we determined to choose thee a wife, for in his own
body should the King taste why the Goth loveth death.
Teja.
Found ye that your King loved life overmuch?
Bishop.
My King!
Teja.
Nay, that dared ye not, for every hour of this life would hold ye up to
mockery.... And even if the ancient law required it, why must ye weld
me with this young thing which, trembling for fear before me and ye,
hideth in her mother's skirts? And especially on so fitting a day, when
hunger doth furnish the marriage music.... Look upon me, Queen--I must
call thee by thy title of a half-hour, for, by God! I hardly yet know
thy name. I pray thee, look upon me! Dost thou know me?
Balthilda.
Thou art the King, Sire.
Teja.
Yea. But for thee I should be man, not King.... And knowest thou what
manner of man standeth here before thee?... Behold! These arms have
been hitherto plunged in reeking blood, not the blood of men shed in
manly strife, I speak not of that, that honoureth the man--blood of
unarmed pale children, of--(_shudders_)--Thou shalt have great joy, if
I come with these arms to wind them about thy neck.... Dost thou indeed
hear me? Have I not a beautiful voice, a sweet voice? Only it is a
little hoarse. It is weary with screaming loud commands to murder....
Peculiar pleasure shall be thine when thou hearest tender words with
this bewitching hoarseness. Am I not truly a born lover? These wise men
knew that; therefore they taught me my calling.... Or believe ye, it
was your duty to beguile your King in the weariness of camp life; as
the great Justinian dallied in golden Byzantium, and sent forth his
eunuchs to slay Gothic men? Ha, ha, ha!
Bishop.
My King, take heed lest thou be angry.
Teja.
I thank thee, friend. Yet that signifieth nothing. It is but my
marriage humour.... But now I will speak to ye in earnest--(_Ascends to
the high seat of the throne_.) On the golden throne of Theoderic, where
mercy sat in judgment, can I, alas! not take my place; for that is
being chopped into firewood at Byzantium.... Neither smiling like
Totilas can I pardon, for no one longer desireth our pardon.... From
the glorious nation of the Goths, there hath sprung a horde of hungry
wolves therefore it needeth a wolf as master. Thou, Bishop, didst call
me the spirit of divine wrath, which I am not.... I am but the spirit
of your despair. As one who all his life hath hoped for nothing, hath
wished for nothing, I stand before you, and so I shall fall before you.
That ye knew, and therefore ye are wrong, ye men, to reproach me
secretly. Contradict me not!... I read it clearly enough between your
lowering brows.... Because it goeth ill with us, make not a scapegoat
of me--that I counsel ye.
Theodemir.
King, wound us not.... The last drop of our blood belongeth to thee.
Cast us not into the pot with these old men.
Euric.
We old men fight as well as they; and love, young man, as well as they.
Teja.
Then let that suffice. Your Queen shall soon enough learn how, in
misfortune, friends quarrel among themselves. And as ye pass through
the camp, tell the warriors, the only thing that frets the King this
day this day of joy, is it not?--is that he hath not the power to offer
them a worthy marriage feast ... or yet perchance-- Ildibad.
Ildibad.
(_Who on the right has secretly spoken in bewilderment to a watcher who
has just entered_.) Yea, Sire.
Teja.
What have we still in our stores, old man?
Ildibad (_controlling his emotion_).
Truly, thou hast given away almost all thy provisions.
Teja.