Such forces met not, nor so vast a camp,
When Agrican, with all his northern powers,
Besieged Albraeca, as romances tell.
The city of Gallaphron, from thence to win
The fairest of her sex, Angelica,
His daughter, sought by many prowess'd knights,
Both Paynim, and the Peers of Charlemagne.
PARADISE REGAINED.
Early on the morning of the day following that which we have
commemorated, the Imperial Council was assembled, where the number of
general officers with sounding titles, disguised under a thin veil the
real weakness of the Grecian empire. The commanders were numerous and
the distinctions of their rank minute, but the soldiers were very few
in comparison. The offices formerly filled by prefects, praetors, and
questors, were now held by persons who had gradually risen into the
authority of those officers, and who, though designated from their
domestic duties about the Emperor, yet, from that very circumstance,
possessed what, in that despotic court, was the most effectual source
of power. A long train of officers entered the great hall of the Castle
of Blacquernal, and proceeded so far together as their different grades
admitted, while in each chamber through which they passed in
succession, a certain number of the train whose rank permitted them to
advance no farther, remained behind the others. Thus, when the interior
cabinet of audience was gained, which was not until their passage
through ten anterooms, five persons only found themselves in the
presence of the Emperor in this innermost and most sacred recess of
royalty, decorated by all the splendour of the period.
The Emperor Alexius sat upon a stately throne, rich with barbaric gems
and gold, and flanked on either hand, in imitation probably of
Solomon's magnificence, with the form of a couchant lion in the same
precious metal. Not to dwell upon other marks of splendour, a tree
whose trunk seemed also of gold, shot up behind the throne, which it
over-canopied with its branches. Amid the boughs were birds of various
kinds curiously wrought and enamelled, and fruit composed of precious
stones seemed to glisten among the leaves. Five officers alone, the
highest in the state, had the privilege of entering this sacred recess
when the Emperor held council. These were--the Grand Domestic, who
might be termed of rank with a modern prime minister--the Logothete, or
chancellor--the Protospathaire, or commander of the guards, already
mentioned--the Acolyte, or Follower, and leader of the Varangians--and
the Patriarch.
The doors of this secret apartment, and the adjacent antechamber, were
guarded by six deformed Nubian slaves, whose writhen and withered
countenances formed a hideous contrast with their snow-white dresses
and splendid equipment. They were mutes, a species of wretches borrowed
from the despotism of the East, that they might be unable to proclaim
the deeds of tyranny of which they were the unscrupulous agents. They
were generally held in a kind of horror, rather than compassion, for
men considered that slaves of this sort had a malignant pleasure in
avenging upon others the irreparable wrongs which had severed
themselves from humanity. It was a general custom, though, like many
other usages of the Greeks, it would be held childish in modern times,
that by means of machinery easily conceived, the lions, at the entrance
of a stranger, were made, as it were, to rouse themselves and roar,
after which a wind seemed to rustle the foliage of the tree, the birds
hopped from branch to branch, pecked the fruit, and appeared to fill
the chamber with their carolling. This display had alarmed many an
ignorant foreign ambassador, and even the Grecian counsellors
themselves were expected to display the same sensations of fear,
succeeded by surprise, when they heard the roar of the lions, followed
by the concert of the birds, although perhaps it was for the fiftieth
time. On this occasion, as a proof of the urgency of the present
meeting of the council, these ceremonies were entirely omitted.
The speech of the Emperor himself seemed to supply by its commencement
the bellowing of the lions, while it ended in a strain more resembling
the warbling of the birds.
In his first sentences, he treated of the audacity and unheard-of
boldness of the millions of Franks, who, under the pretence of wresting
Palestine from the infidels, had ventured to invade the sacred
territories of the empire. He threatened them with such chastisement as
his innumerable forces and officers would, he affirmed, find it easy to
inflict. To all this the audience, and especially the military
officers, gave symptoms of ready assent. Alexius, however, did not long
persist in the warlike intentions which he at first avowed. The Franks,
he at length seemed to reflect, were, in profession, Christians. They
might possibly be serious in their pretext of the crusade, in which
case their motives claimed a degree of indulgence, and, although
erring, a certain portion of respect. Their numbers also were great,
and their valour could not be despised by those who had seen them fight
at Durazzo, [Footnote: For the battle of Durazzo, Oct. 1081, in which
Alexius was defeated with great slaughter by Robert Guiscard, and
escaped only by the swiftness of his horse, see Gibbon, ch. 56.] and
elsewhere. They might also, by the permission of Supreme Providence,
be, in the long run, the instruments of advantage to the most sacred
empire, though they approached it with so little ceremony. He had,
therefore, mingling the virtues of prudence, humanity, and generosity,
with that valour which must always burn in the heart of an Emperor,
formed a plan, which he was about to submit to their consideration, for
present execution; and, in the first place, he requested of the Grand
Domestic, to let him know what forces he might count upon on the
western side of the Bosphorus.
"Innumerable are the forces of the empire as the stars in heaven, or
the sand on the sea-shore," answered the Grand Domestic.
"That is a goodly answer," said the Emperor, "provided there were
strangers present at this conference; but since we hold consultation in
private, it is necessary that I know precisely to what number that army
amounts which I have to rely upon. Reserve your eloquence till some
fitter time, and let me know what you, at this present moment, mean by
the word _innumerable?_"
The Grand Domestic paused, and hesitated for a short space; but as he
became aware that the moment was one in which the Emperor could not be
trifled with, (for Alexius Comnenus was at times dangerous,) he
answered thus, but not without hesitation. "Imperial master and lord,
none better knows that such an answer cannot be hastily made, if it is
at the same time to be correct in its results. The number of the
imperial host betwixt this city and the western frontier of the empire,
deducting those absent on furlough, cannot be counted upon as amounting
to more than twenty-five thousand men, or thirty thousand at most."
Alexius struck his forehead with his hand; and the counsellors, seeing
him give way to such violent expressions of grief and surprise, began
to enter into discussions, which they would otherwise have reserved for
a fitter place and time.
"By the trust your Highness reposes in me," said the Logothete, "there
has been drawn from your Highness's coffers during the last year, gold
enough to pay double the number of the armed warriors whom the Grand
Domestic now mentions."
"Your Imperial Highness," retorted the impeached minister, with no
small animation, "will at once remember the stationary garrisons, in
addition to the movable troops, for which this figure-caster makes no
allowance."
"Peace, both of you!" said Alexius, composing himself hastily; "our
actual numbers are in truth less than we counted on, but let us not by
wrangling augment the difficulties of the time. Let those troops be
dispersed in valleys, in passes, behind ridges of hills, and in
difficult ground, where a little art being used in the position, can
make few men supply the appearance of numbers, between this city and
the western frontier of the empire. While this disposal is made, we
will continue to adjust with these crusaders, as they call themselves,
the terms on which we will consent to let them pass through our
dominions; nor are we without hope of negotiating with them, so as to
gain great advantage to our kingdom. We will insist that they pass
through our country only by armies of perhaps fifty thousand at once,
whom we will successively transport into Asia, so that no greater
number shall, by assembling beneath our walls, ever endanger the safety
of the metropolis of the world.
"On their way towards the banks of the Bosphorus, we will supply them
with provisions, if they march peaceably, and in order; and if any
straggle from their standards, or insult the country by marauding, we
suppose our valiant peasants will not hesitate to repress their
excesses, and that without our giving positive orders, since we would
not willingly be charged with any thing like a breach of engagement. We
suppose, also, that the Scythians, Arabs, Syrians, and other
mercenaries in our service, will not suffer our subjects to be
overpowered in their own just defence; as, besides that there is no
justice in stripping our own country of provisions, in order to feed
strangers, we will not be surprised nor unpardonably displeased to
learn, that of the ostensible quantity of flour, some sacks should be
found filled with chalk, or lime, or some such substance. It is,
indeed, truly wonderful, what the stomach of a Frank will digest
comfortably. Their guides, also, whom you shall choose with reference
to such duty, will take care to conduct the crusaders by difficult and
circuitous routes; which will be doing them a real service, by inuring
them to the hardships of the country and climate, which they would
otherwise have to face without seasoning.
"In the meantime, in your intercourse with their chiefs, whom they call
counts, each of whom thinks himself as great as an Emperor, you will
take care to give no offence to their natural presumption, and omit no
opportunity of informing them of the wealth and bounty of our
government. Sums of money may be even given to persons of note, and
largesses of less avail to those under them. You, our Logothete, will
take good order for this, and you, our Grand Domestic, will take care
that such soldiers as may cut off detached parties of the Franks shall
be presented, if possible, in savage dress, and under the show of
infidels. In commending these injunctions to your care, I purpose that,
the crusaders having found the value of our friendship, and also in
some sort the danger of our enmity, those whom we shall safely
transport to Asia, shall be, however unwieldy, still a smaller and more
compact body, whom we may deal with in all Christian prudence. Thus, by
using fair words to one, threats to another, gold to the avaricious,
power to the ambitious, and reasons to those that are capable of
listening to them, we doubt not but to prevail upon those Franks, met
as they are from a thousand points, and enemies of each other, to
acknowledge us as their common superior, rather than choose a leader
among themselves, when they are made aware of the great fact, that
every village in Palestine, from Dan to Beersheba, is the original
property of the sacred Roman empire, and that whatever Christian goes
to war for their recovery, must go as our subject, and hold any
conquest which he may make, as our vassal. Vice and virtue, sense and
folly, ambition and disinterested devotion, will alike recommend to the
survivors of these singular-minded men, to become the feudatories of
the empire, not its foe, and the shield, not the enemy, of your
paternal Emperor."
There was a general inclination of the head among the courtiers, with
the Eastern acclamation of,--"Long live the Emperor!"
When the murmur of this applausive exclamation had subsided, Alexius
proceeded:--"Once more, I say, that my faithful Grand Domestic, and
those who act under him, will take care to commit the execution of such
part of these orders as may seem aggressive, to troops of foreign
appearance and language, which, I grieve to say, are more numerous in
our imperial army than our natural-born and orthodox subjects."
The Patriarch here interposed his opinion.--"There is a consolation,"
he said,"in the thought, that the genuine Romans in the imperial army
are but few, since a trade so bloody as war, is most fitly prosecuted
by those whose doctrines, as well as their doings, on earth, merit
eternal condemnation in the next world."
"Reverend Patriarch," said the Emperor, "we would not willingly hold
with the wild infidels, that Paradise is to be gained by the sabre;
nevertheless, we would hope that a Roman dying in battle for his
religion and his Emperor, may find as good hope of acceptation, after
the mortal pang is over, as a man who dies in peace, and with unblooded
hand."
"It is enough for me to say," resumed the Patriarch, "that the Church's
doctrine is not so indulgent: she is herself peaceful, and her promises
of favour are for those who have been men of peace. Yet think not I bar
the gates of Heaven against a soldier, as such, if believing all the
doctrines of our Church, and complying with all our observances; far
less would I condemn your Imperial Majesty's wise precautions, both for
diminishing the power and thinning the ranks of those Latin heretics,
who come hither to despoil us, and plunder perhaps both church and
temple, under the vain pretext that Heaven would permit them, stained
with so many heresies, to reconquer that Holy Land, which true orthodox
Christians, your Majesty's sacred predecessors, have not been enabled
to retain from the infidel. And well I trust that no settlement made
under the Latins will be permitted by your Majesty to establish itself,
in which the Cross shall not be elevated with limbs of the same length,
instead of that irregular and most damnable error which prolongs, in
western churches, the nether limb of that most holy emblem."
"Reverend Patriarch," answered the Emperor, "do not deem that we think
lightly of your weighty scruples; but the question is now, not in what
manner we may convert these Latin heretics to the true faith, but how
we may avoid being overrun by their myriads, which resemble those of
the locusts by which their approach was preceded and intimated."
"Your Majesty," said the Patriarch, "will act with your usual wisdom;
for my part, I have only stated my doubts, that I may save my own soul
alive."
"Our construction," said the Emperor, "does your sentiments no wrong,
most reverend Patriarch; and you," addressing himself to the other
counsellors, "will attend to these separate charges given out for
directing the execution of the commands which have been generally
intimated to you. They are written out in the sacred ink, and our
sacred subscription is duly marked with the fitting tinge of green and
purple. Let them, therefore, be strictly obeyed. Ourselves will assume
the command of such of the Immortal Bands as remain in the city, and
join to them the cohorts of our faithful Varangians. At the head of
these troops, we will await the arrival of these strangers under the
walls of the city, and, avoiding combat while our policy can postpone
it, we will be ready, in case of the worst, to take whatsoever chance
it shall please the Almighty to send us."
Here the council broke up, and the different chiefs began to exert
themselves in the execution of their various instructions, civil and
military, secret or public, favourable or hostile to the crusaders. The
peculiar genius of the Grecian people was seen upon this occasion.
Their loud and boastful talking corresponded with the ideas which the
Emperor wished to enforce upon the crusaders concerning the extent of
his power and resources. Nor is it to be disguised, that the wily
selfishness of most of those in the service of Alexius, endeavoured to
find some indirect way of applying the imperial instruction, so as
might best suit their own private ends.
Meantime, the news had gone abroad in Constantinople of the arrival of
the huge miscellaneous army of the west upon the limits of the Grecian
empire, arid of their purpose to pass to Palestine. A thousand reports
magnified, if that was possible, an event so wonderful. Some said, that
their ultimate view was the conquest of Arabia, the destruction of the
Prophet's tomb, and the conversion of his green banner into a
horse-cloth for the King of France's brother. Others supposed that the
ruin and sack of Constantinople was the real object of the war. A third
class thought it was in order to compel the Patriarch to submit himself
to the Pope, adopt the Latin form of the cross, and put an end to the
schism.
The Varangians enjoyed an addition to this wonderful news, seasoned as
it everywhere was with something peculiarly suited to the prejudices of
the hearers. It was gathered originally from what our friend Hereward,
who was one of their inferior officers, called sergeants or constables,
had suffered to transpire of what he had heard the preceding evening.
Considering that the fact must be soon matter of notoriety, he had no
hesitation to give his comrades to understand that a Norman army was
coming hither under Duke Robert, the son of the far-famed William the
Conqueror, and with hostile intentions, he concluded, against them in
particular. Like all other men in peculiar circumstances, the
Varangians adopted an explanation applicable to their own condition.
These Normans, who hated the Saxon nation, and had done so much to
dishonour and oppress them, were now following them, they supposed, to
the foreign capital where they had found refuge, with the purpose of
making war on the bountiful prince who protected their sad remnant.
Under this belief, many a deep oath was sworn in Norse and Anglo-Saxon,
that their keen battle-axes should avenge the slaughter of Hastings,
and many a pledge, both in wine and ale, was quaffed who should most
deeply resent, and most effectually revenge, the wrongs which the
Anglo-Saxons of England had received at the hand of their oppressors.
Hereward, the author of this intelligence, began soon to be sorry that
he had ever suffered it to escape him, so closely was he cross-examined
concerning its precise import, by the enquiries of his comrades, from
whom he thought himself obliged to keep concealed the adventures of the
preceding evening, and the place in which he had gained his information.
About noon, when he was effectually tired with returning the same
answer to the same questions, and evading similar others which were
repeatedly put to him, the sound of trumpets announced the presence of
the Acolyte, Achilles Tatius, who came immediately, it was
industriously whispered, from the sacred Interior, with news of the
immediate approach of war.
The Varangians, and the Roman bands called Immortal, it was said, were
to form a camp under the city, in order to be prompt to defend it at
the shortest notice. This put the whole barracks into commotion, each
man making the necessary provision for the approaching campaign. The
noise was chiefly that of joyful bustle and acclamation; and it was so
general, that Hereward, whose rank permitted him to commit to a page or
esquire the task of preparing his equipments, took the opportunity to
leave the barracks, in order to seek some distant place apart from his
comrades, and enjoy his solitary reflections upon the singular
connexion into which he had been drawn, and his direct communication
with the Imperial family.
Passing through the narrow streets, then deserted, on account of the
heat of the sun, he reached at length one of those broad terraces,
which, descending as it were by steps, upon the margin of the
Bosphorus, formed one of the most splendid walks in the universe, and
still, it is believed, preserved as a public promenade for the pleasure
of the Turks, as formerly for that of the Christians. These graduated
terraces were planted with many trees, among which the cypress, as
usual, was most generally cultivated. Here bands of the inhabitants
were to be seen: some passing to and fro, with business and anxiety in
their faces; some standing still in groups, as if discussing the
strange and weighty tidings of the day, and some, with the indolent
carelessness of an eastern climate, eating their noontide refreshment
in the shade, and spending their time as if their sole object was to
make much of the day as it passed, and let the cares of to-morrow
answer for themselves.
While the Varangian, afraid of meeting some acquaintance in this
concourse, which would have been inconsistent with the desire of
seclusion which had brought him thither, descended or passed from one
terrace to another, all marked him with looks of curiosity and enquiry,
considering him to be one, who, from his arms and connexion with the
court, must necessarily know more than others concerning the singular
invasion by numerous enemies, and from various quarters, which was the
news of the day.
None, however, had the hardihood to address the soldier of the guard,
though all looked at him with uncommon interest. He walked from the
lighter to the darker alleys, from the more closed to the more open
terraces, without interruption from any one, yet not without a feeling
that he must not consider himself as alone.
The desire that he felt to be solitary rendered him at last somewhat
watchful, so that he became sensible that he was dogged by a black
slave, a personage not so unfrequent in the streets of Constantinople
as to excite any particular notice. His attention, however, being at
length fixed on this individual, he began to be desirous to escape his
observation; and the change of place which he had at first adopted to
avoid society in general, he had now recourse to, in order to rid
himself of this distant, though apparently watchful attendant. Still,
however, though he by change of place had lost sight of the negro for a
few minutes, it was not long ere he again discovered him at a distance
too far for a companion, but near enough to serve all the purposes of a
spy. Displeased at this, the Varangian turned short in his walk, and
choosing a spot where none was in sight but the object of his
resentment, walked suddenly up to him, and demanded wherefore, and by
whose orders, he presumed to dog his footsteps. The negro answered in a
jargon as bad as that in which he was addressed though of a different
kind, "that he had orders to remark whither he went."
"Orders from whom?" said the Varangian.
"From my master and yours," answered the negro, boldly.
"Thou infidel villain!" exclaimed the angry soldier, "when was it that
we became fellow-servants, and who is it that thou darest to call my
master?"
"One who is master of the world," said the slave, "since he commands
his own passions."
"I shall scarce command mine," said the Varangian, "if thou repliest to
my earnest questions with thine affected quirks of philosophy. Once
more, what dost thou want with me? and why hast thou the boldness to
watch me?"
"I have told thee already," said the slave, "that I do my master's
commands."
"But I must know who thy master is," said Hereward.
"He must tell thee that himself," replied the negro; "he trusts not a
poor slave like me with the purpose of the errands on which he sends
me."
"He has left thee a tongue, however," said the Varangian, "which some
of thy countrymen would. I think, be glad to possess. Do not provoke me
to abridge it by refusing me the information which I have a right to
demand."
The black meditated, as it seemed from the grin on his face, further
evasions, when Hereward cut them short by raising the staff of his
battle-axe. "Put me not" he said, "to dishonour myself by striking thee
with this weapon, calculated for a use so much more noble."
"I may not do so, valiant sir," said the negro, laying aside an
impudent, half-gibing tone which he had hitherto made use of, and
betraying personal fear in his manner. "If you beat the poor slave to
death, you cannot learn what his master hath forbid him to tell. A
short walk will save your honour the stain, and yourself the trouble,
of beating what cannot resist, and me the pain of enduring what I can
neither retaliate nor avoid."
"Lead on then," said the Varangian. "Be assured thou shalt not fool me
by thy fair words, and I will know the person who is impudent enough to
assume the right of watching my motions."
The black walked on with a species of leer peculiar to his physiognomy,
which might be construed as expressive either of malice or of mere
humour. The Varangian followed him with some suspicion, for it happened
that he had had little intercourse with the unhappy race of Africa, and
had not totally overcome the feeling of surprise with which he had at
first regarded them, when he arrived a stranger from the north. So
often did this man look back upon him during their walk, and with so
penetrating and observing a cast of countenance, that Hereward felt
irresistibly renewed in his mind the English prejudices, which assigned
to the demons the sable colour and distorted cast of visage of his
conductor. The scene into which he was guided, strengthened an
association which was not of itself unlikely to occur to the ignorant
and martial islander.
The negro led the way from the splendid terraced walks which we have
described, to a path descending to the sea-shore, when a place
appeared, which, far from being trimmed, like other parts of the coast,
into walks of embankments, seemed, on the contrary, abandoned to
neglect, and was covered with the mouldering ruins of antiquity, where
these had not been overgrown by the luxuriant vegetation of the
climate. These fragments of building, occupying a sort of recess of the
bay, were hidden by steep banks on each side, and although in fact they
formed part of the city, yet they were not seen from any part of it,
and, embosomed in the manner we have described, did not in turn command
any view of the churches, palaces, towers, and fortifications, amongst
which they lay. The sight of this solitary, and apparently deserted
spot, encumbered with ruins, and overgrown with cypress and other
trees, situated as it was in the midst of a populous city, had
something in it impressive and awful to the imagination. The ruins were
of an ancient date, and in the style of a foreign people. The gigantic
remains of a portico, the mutilated fragments of statues of great size,
but executed in a taste and attitude so narrow and barbaric as to seem
perfectly the reverse of the Grecian, and the half-defaced
hieroglyphics which could be traced on some part of the decayed
sculpture, corroborated the popular account of their origin, which we
shall briefly detail.
According to tradition, this had been a temple dedicated to the
Egyptian goddess Cybele, built while the Roman Empire was yet heathen,
and while Constantinople was still called by the name of Byzantium. It
is well known that the superstition of the Egyptians--vulgarly gross in
its literal meaning as well as in its mystical interpretation, and
peculiarly the foundation of many wild doctrines,--was disowned by the
principles of general toleration, and the system of polytheism received
by Rome, and was excluded by repeated laws from the respect paid by the
empire to almost every other religion, however extravagant or absurd.
Nevertheless, these Egyptian rites had charms for the curious and the
superstitious, and had, after long opposition, obtained a footing in
the empire.
Still, although tolerated, the Egyptian priests were rather considered
as sorcerers than as pontiffs, and their whole ritual had a nearer
relation, to magic in popular estimation, than to any regular system of
devotion.
Stained with these accusations, even among the heathen themselves, the
worship of Egypt was held in more mortal abhorrence by the Christians,
than the other and more rational kinds of heathen devotion; that is, if
any at all had a right to be termed so. The brutal worship of Apis and
Cybele was regarded, not only as a pretext for obscene and profligate
pleasures, but as having a direct tendency to open and encourage a
dangerous commerce with evil spirits, who were supposed to take upon
themselves, at these unhallowed altars, the names and characters of
these foul deities. Not only, therefore, the temple of Cybele, with its
gigantic portico, its huge and inelegant statues, and its fantastic
hieroglyphics, was thrown down and defaced when the empire was
converted to the Christian faith, but the very ground on which it stood
was considered as polluted and unhallowed; and no Emperor having yet
occupied the site with a Christian church, the place still remained
neglected and deserted as we have described it.
The Varangian Hereward was perfectly acquainted with the evil
reputation of the place; and when the negro seemed disposed to advance
into the interior of the ruins, he hesitated, and addressed his guide
thus:--"Hark thee, my black friend, these huge fantastic images, some
having dogs' heads, some cows' heads, and some no heads at all, are not
held reverently in popular estimation. Your own colour, also, my
comrade, is greatly too like that of Satan himself, to render you an
unsuspicious companion amid ruins, in which the false spirit, it is
said, daily walks his rounds. Midnight and Noon are the times, it is
rumoured, of his appearance. I will go no farther with you, unless you
assign me a fit reason for so doing."
"In making so childish a proposal" said the negro, "you take from me,
in effect, all desire to guide you to my master. I thought I spoke to a
man of invincible courage, and of that good sense upon which courage is
best founded. But your valour only emboldens you to beat a black slave,
who has neither strength nor title to resist you; and your courage is
not enough to enable you to look without trembling on the dark side of
a wall, even when the sun is in the heavens."
"Thou art insolent," said Hereward, raising his axe.
"And thou art foolish," said the negro, "to attempt to prove thy
manhood and thy wisdom by the very mode which gives reason for calling
them both in question. I have already said there can be little valour
in beating a wretch like me; and no man, surely, who wishes to discover
his way, would begin by chasing away his guide."
"I follow thee" said Hereward, stung with the insinuation of cowardice;
"but if thou leadest me into a snare, thy free talk shall not save thy
bones, if a thousand of thy complexion, from earth or hell, were
standing ready to back thee."
"Thou objectest sorely to my complexion," said the negro; "how knowest
thou that it is, in fact, a thing to be counted and acted upon as
matter of reality? Thine own eyes daily apprize thee, that the colour
of the sky nightly changes from bright to black, yet thou knowest that
this is by no means owing to any habitual colour of the heavens
themselves. The same change that takes place in the hue of the heavens,
has existence in the tinge of the deep sea--How canst thou tell, but
what the difference of my colour from thine own may be owing to some
deceptions change of a similar nature--not real in itself, but only
creating an apparent reality?"
"Thou mayst have painted thyself, no doubt," answered the Varangian,
upon reflection, "and thy blackness, therefore, may be only apparent;
but I think thy old friend himself could hardly have presented these
grinning lips, with the white teeth and flattened nose, so much to the
life, unless that peculiarity of Nubian physiognomy, as they call it,
had accurately and really an existence; and to save thee some trouble,
my dark friend, I will tell thee, that though thou speakest to an
uneducated Varangian, I am not entirely unskilled in the Grecian art of
making subtle words pass upon the hearers instead of reason."
"Ay?" said the negro, doubtfully, and somewhat surprised; "and may the
slave Diogenes--for so my master has christened me--enquire into the
means by which you reached knowledge so unusual?"
"It is soon told," replied Hereward. "My countryman, Witikind, being a
constable of our bands, retired from active service, and spent the end
of a long life in this city of Constantinople. Being past all toils of
battle, either those of reality, as you word it, or the pomp and
fatigue of the exercising ground, the poor old man, in despair of
something to pass his time, attended the lectures of the philosophers."
"And what did he learn there?" said the negro; "for a barbarian, grown
grey under the helmet, was not, as I think, a very hopeful student in
our schools."
"As much though, I should think, as a menial slave, which I understand
to be thy condition," replied the soldier. "But I have understood from
him, that the masters of this idle science make it their business to
substitute, in their argumentations, mere words instead of ideas; and
as they never agree upon the precise meaning of the former, their
disputes can never arrive at a fair or settled conclusion, since they
do not agree in the language in which they express them. Their
theories, as they call them, are built on the sand, and the wind and
tide shall prevail against them."
"Say so to my master," answered the black, in a serious tone.
"I will," said the Varangian; "and he shall know me as an ignorant
soldier, having but few ideas, and those only concerning my religion
and my military duty. But out of these opinions I will neither be
beaten by a battery of sophisms, nor cheated by the arts or the terrors
of the friends of heathenism, either in this world or the next."
"You may speak your mind to him then yourself," said Diogenes. He
stepped aside as if to make way for the Varangian, to whom he motioned
to go forward.
Hereward advanced accordingly, by a half-worn and almost imperceptible
path leading through the long rough grass, and, turning round a
half-demolished shrine, which exhibited the remains of Apis, the bovine
deity, he came immediately in front of the philosopher, Agelastes, who,
sitting among the ruins, reposed his limbs on the grass.