The power and glory of Totila were now at their height. His happiness
was completed by his union with Valeria.
The betrothal had just taken place in the church of St. Peter, and was
solemnised by Cassiodorus, assisted by Julius, now a Catholic priest,
and also by an Arian minister. When Cassiodorus had betrothed the
daughter of his old friend to the King, and they had exchanged rings,
the royal couple were led in solemn procession over the Janiculum
towards the right bank of the river, and across the Theodosian and
Valentinian Bridges, which were decorated with triumphal arches.
Following the course of the river, the procession entered a villa
situated on an eminence overlooking the river and the campagna, and the
betrothed couple took their places under a magnificent baldachin in the
great hall.
There, before the assembled national army, under the golden shield of
the King, which was hung upon his spear, the Roman bride stepped into
the right shoe of her Gothic bridegroom, while he laid his mailed right
hand upon her head, which was covered with a transparent veil.
Thus the betrothal was completed according to ecclesiastical, Roman,
and Germanic custom.
This ceremony over, Totila and Valeria took their seats at the centre
table upon the terrace of the villa; Valeria surrounded by noble Roman
and Gothic women, Totila by the dukes and earls of his army.
Grecian and Roman flute-players played and sang alternately; Roman
dances followed the sword-dance of the Gothic youths. Presently,
dressed in a long, white festive garment, the hem embroidered in gold,
and a wreath of laurel and oak-leaves upon his head, Adalgoth stood
forth in front of the royal pair, cast an inquiring look at his teacher
in war and song. Earl Teja, who sat on the King's right hand, and, to
the accompaniment of his harp, sang in a clear voice:
"Hear, all ye people, far and near,
Hear, Byzant', to thy dole:
The Gothic King, good Totila,
Thrones on the Capitol/
"No more is Belisarius' name
In Rome with honour decked:
Of Orcus, and no more of Rome
Cethegus is Prefect.
"Of what leaves shall we weave the crown
For good King Totila?
Like sweetest rose upon his breast
Blooms sweet Valeria.
"Peace, freedom, right, and law protect
His shield, his star, his sword:
_Olive_, thy peaceful spray now give,
Give for the peaceful Lord!
"Who carried terror and revenge?
Who bore the Grecians down?
Come, _laurel_, leaf of victory,
Make rich my hero's crown!
"But his victorious strength grew not
From Roma's mouldering ground:
With leaves of young Germanic _oak_
Let his young head be crowned.
"Hear, all ye people, far and near,
Hear, Byzant', to thy dole:
The Gothic King, young Totila,
Thrones on the Capitol."
A burst of applause rewarded his song, during which a Roman youth and a
Gothic maiden, kneeling before Totila and Valeria, offered each a crown
of roses, laurels, olive-leaves and oak-leaves.
"_Our_ songs are also not quite without sweetness, Valeria," said
Totila with a smile, "and not without strength and truth. I owe my life
to this youthful minstrel." And he laid his hand upon Adalgoth's head.
"He struck thy countryman Piso, his colleague in the art of song, most
roughly upon his clever scanning fingers--as a punishment for having
written many a verse to my Valeria and raised the deadly steel against
me with one and the same hand!"
"There is one thing that I would rather have heard, my Adalgoth," Teja
said to the boy in a low voice, "than your song of praise."
"What is that, my Earl of harp and sword?"
"The death-cry of the Prefect, whom thou hast only sent to hell in thy
verse."
But Adalgoth was called away down the steps by a crowd of Gothic
warriors, who would not part with him for a long time; for his song
pleased the Gothic heroes who had fought with Totila much better than
it will perhaps please you, my reader.
Duke Guntharis embraced and kissed Adalgoth and said, as he drew him
aside:
"My young hero! What a resemblance! Whenever I see thee my first
thought is: Alaric!"
"Why, that is my battle-cry!" said Adalgoth, and, engaged in
conversation, they disappeared amid the crowd.
At the same time the King looked back at the vestibule of the villa,
for the performance of the flute-players stationed there was suddenly
interrupted.
He quickly perceived the cause and started from his seat with a cry of
astonishment.
For between the two centre and flower-wreathed columns of the entrance
stood a form which seemed scarcely human. A maiden of wondrous beauty,
clad in a pure white garment, holding a staff in her hand, and with a
wreath of star-like flowers upon her head.
"Ah! what is that? Lives this charming figure?" the King asked.
And all the guests followed the direction of the King's eyes and the
movement of his hand with equal wonder, for the small opening left
between the pillars by the masses of flowers was filled up by a more
lovely form than their eyes had ever beheld.
The child, or girl, had fastened her shining white linen tunic upon her
left shoulder with a large sapphire clasp; her broad golden girdle was
set with a row of sapphires. The long and pointed sleeves of her dress
fell from her shoulders like two white wings. Wreaths of ivy were
twined about her whole figure; in her right hand, which rested on her
bosom, she held a shepherd's staff, wreathed with flowers; her left
hand carried a beautiful crown of wild-flowers and was laid upon the
head of a large shaggy dog, whose neck was likewise surrounded with a
wreath.
The girl looked without fear, but thoughtfully and examiningly, at the
brilliant assembly. For a while the guests stared and waited, and the
maiden stood motionless. Then the King left his seat, went towards her,
and said with a smile:
"Welcome to our feast, if thou art an earthly being. But if--which I
almost believe--thou art the lovely Queen of the Elves--why then, be
welcome too! We will place a throne for thee high above the King's
seat." And with a graceful action he opened both his arms, inviting her
to approach.
With a light and gentle step the maiden crossed the threshold of the
vestibule and, blushing, replied:
"What sweet folly speakest thou, O King! I am no queen. I am Gotho, the
shepherdess. But thou--I see it more by thy clear brow than by thy
diadem--thou art Totila, the King of the Goths, whom they call the
'King of joy.' I have brought flowers for thee and thy lovely bride. I
heard that this feast was to celebrate a betrothal. Gotho has nothing
else to give. I plucked and twined these flowers as I came through the
last meadow. And now, O King, protector of the orphan's right, hear and
help me!"
The King again took his place near Valeria. The maiden stood between
them. Valeria took one of her hands; the King laid his hand upon her
head, and said:
"I swear to protect thee and thy rights by thine own lovely head. Who
art thou, and what is thy desire?"
"Sire, I am the grand-child and child of peasants. I have grown up in
solitude amid the flowers of the Iffinger mountain. I had nothing dear
to me on earth except my brother. He left me to seek thee. And when my
grandfather felt that he was dying, he sent me to thee to find my
brother and the solution of my fate. And he gave me old Hunibad from
Teriolis as a companion and protector. But Hunibad's wounds were not
fully healed and soon re-opened, and he was obliged to stay sick at
Verona. And I had to nurse him for a long time, until at last he died
too. And then I went alone, accompanied only by my faithful dog Brun,
across all this wide hot country, until at last I found the city of
Rome and thee. But thou keepest good order, O King, in thy land--thou
deservest all praise. Thy high-roads are watched day and night by
soldiers and horsemen. And they were friendly and good to the lonely
wandering child. They sent me to the houses of good Goths at nightfall,
where the housewife cherished me. And it is said that the law is so
well obeyed in thy realm, that a golden bracelet might be laid upon the
high-road, and would be found again after many many nights. In one
town, Mantua, I think it was called, just as I was crossing the
market-place, there was a great press, and the people ran together. And
thy soldiers led forth a Roman to die there, and cried: 'Marcus
Massurius must die the death, at the King's command. The King set him,
a prisoner of war, free, and the insolent Roman ravished a Jewish girl.
Sang Totila has renewed the law of the great Theodoric.' And they
struck off his head in the open market-place, and all the people were
terrified at King Totila's justice. Now, my faithful Brun, thou mayest
rest here; here no one will hurt thee. I have even ornamented _his_
neck with flowers to-day, in honour of thee and thy bride."
She slightly struck the powerful dog on the head; he immediately went
up to the King's throne, and laid his left fore-foot confidingly upon
the King's knee. And the King gave him water to drink out of a flat,
golden dish.
"For golden fidelity a golden dish," he said. "But who is thy brother?"
"Well," the girl answered thoughtfully, "from what Hunibad told me
during the journey and upon his sick-bed, I think that the name my
brother bears is not his real one. But he is easy to be known," she
added, blushing. "His locks are golden-brown; his eyes are blue as
these shining stones; his voice is as clear as the note of the lark;
and when he plays his harp, he looks up as if he saw the heavens open."
"Adalgoth!" cried the King.
"Adalgoth!" repeated all the guests.
The boy--he had heard the loud shout of his name--flew up the steps.
"My Gotho!" he exclaimed in a jubilant voice, and locked her in a
tender embrace.
"Those two belong to each other," said Duke Guntharis, who had followed
the youth.
"Like the dawn and the rising sun," added Teja.
"But now," said the girl, as she quietly withdrew from Adalgoth's arms,
"let me fulfil my errand and the behest of my dying grandfather. Here,
O King, take this roll and read it. In it is contained the fate of
Adalgoth and Gotho; the past and the present, said our grandfather."