We will not attempt to describe the effect of this letter upon the
Prefect, but will rather accompany the two friends upon one of their
evening walks on the charming shores of the Gulf of Neapolis.
After an early c[oe]na, they wandered through the city, and out of the
Porta Nolana, which was still decorated with some half-ruined reliefs,
illustrating the victories of one of the Roman Emperors over the
barbarians.
Totila stood still and admired the beautiful sculpture.
"Who can be that Emperor," he asked his friend, "on the car of victory,
with the winged lightning in his hand, like a Jupiter Tonans?"
"That is Marcus Aurelius," said Julius, and would have walked on.
"Oh, stay a while! And who are those four prisoners in chains, with the
long waving hair, who drag the car?"
"They are Germanic Kings."
"But of what family?" asked Totila. "Look there, an
inscription--'_Gothi extincti!_'--the Goths annihilated!" and, laughing
loudly, the young Goth struck the marble column with the palm of his
hand, and walked quickly through the gate. "A lie in marble!" he cried,
looking back. "That Emperor never thought that one day a Gothic Count
in Neapolis would give his boast the lie!"
"Yes, nations are like the changing leaves upon the tree," said Julius
thoughtfully. "Who will govern this land after you?"
Totila stood still.
"AFTER US?" he asked in astonishment.
"What! You do not think that your Goths will endure for ever amongst
the nations?"
"I don't know that," said Totila, walking on.
"My friend, Babylonians and Persians, Greeks and Macedonians, and, as
it seems, we Romans also, had their appointed time. They flourished,
ripened, and decayed. Will it be otherwise with the Goths?"
"I do not know," answered Totila uneasily. "I never thought about it.
It has never occurred to me that a time might come when my nation----"
He hesitated, as if it were a sin even to express the thought. "How
can one imagine such a thing? I think as little about it as I do
about--death!"
"That is like you, my Totila."
"And it is like you, Julius, to tease yourself and others with such
dreams."
"Dreams! You forget that for me and for my nation it has already become
a reality. You forget that I am a Roman. I cannot deceive myself like
most men; it is all over with us. The sceptre has gone from us to you.
It was not without much painful thought that I learned to forget that
you, my bosom friend, are a barbarian, the enemy of my country."
"But it is not so, by the light of the sun!" interrupted Totila
eagerly. "Do I find this harsh thought in you too? Look around you!
When, tell me, when has Italy ever flourished more than under our
protection? Scarcely in the time of Augustus! You teach us science and
art; we give you peace and protection. Can one imagine a finer
correlation? Harmony amongst Romans and Goths may create an entirely
new era, more splendid than has ever existed."
"Harmony! But it does not exist. You are to us a strange people,
divided from us by speech and faith, by race and customs, and by
centuries of hatred. Once we robbed you of your freedom; now you have
robbed us of ours. Between us yawns a wide abyss."
"You reject my favourite idea."
"It is a dream!"
"No, it is truth. I feel it, and perhaps the time will come when I can
prove it. I would build all the fabric of my life upon it."
"Then were it built upon a noble delusion. No bridge between Romans and
barbarians!"
"Then," said Totila, with some heat, "I do not understand how you can
live--how you could take me----"
"Do not complete your sentence," said Julius gravely. "It was not easy;
it was most painful self-denial. Only after a sharp struggle with
selfish feelings did I succeed. But at last I have ceased to live only
in my nation. The faith which already unites Romans and barbarians as
nothing else could; which more and more powerfully conquered my
repugnant reason by grief and pain--pain which turned to joy--brought
peace to me in the conflict of my soul. In this one thing I may already
boast that I am a Christian; I live for mankind, not alone for my
nation. I am a man, and no longer a mere Roman. Therefore I can love
you, the barbarian, like a brother. Are we not brothers of one
family--that of humanity? Therefore I can bear to live, even after
seeing my nation die. I live for humanity; that is my people."
"No!" cried Totila vehemently; "that I could never do. I can, and will,
live only for my nation. My nationality is the air in which alone my
soul can breathe. Why should we not endure eternally, or as long as
this earth endures? Persians and Greeks? We are of better stuff! Need
we fall because they have decayed? We are still in the strength of our
youth. Ah, no! If the day should ever come when the Goths fall, may I
not live to see it! Oh, ye gods! let us not linger like these sickly
Greeks, who cannot live and cannot die. No; if it must be, send a
fearful tempest, and let us perish suddenly and gloriously all, all!
and I the foremost!"
He had excited himself to the warmest enthusiasm. He sprang up from the
marble bench upon which they had been seated, and shook his lance in
the air.
"My friend," said Julius, looking at him kindly, "how well this ardour
becomes you! But reflect; such a conflict could only be kindled against
_us_, against my nation, and should I----"
"If ever such a strife arose, you should cling to your nation, body and
soul, that is clear. You think that would interfere with our
friendship? Not in the least. Two heroes can cleave each other to the
marrow, and yet remain the best friends. Ha! I should rejoice to meet
you in battle, with spear and shield."
Julius smiled: "My friendship is not of so grim a nature, my savage
Goth! These doubts have tormented me for some time, and all my
philosophers together could give me no peace. Only since I learned, in
my sorrow, that I owe service to God in heaven alone, and must, on
earth, live for humanity, and not for a nation----"
"Softly, friend," cried Totila, "where is this humanity of which you
rave? I do not see it. I see only Goths, Romans, and Byzantines! I know
of no humanity somewhere up in the sky, above the existing peoples. I
serve humanity by serving my nation! I cannot do otherwise. I can not
strip off the skin in which I was born. I speak like a Goth, in Gothic
words, not in a language of general humanity: there is no such thing.
And as I speak like a Goth, so I feel like a Goth. I can appreciate
strange nations certainly; I can admire your art, your science, and, in
part, your state, in which everything is so strictly ordered. We can
learn much from you; but I could not and would not exchange, even with
a people of angels. Ah! my brave Goths! At the bottom of my heart their
faults are dearer to me than your virtues!"
"How differently I feel, and yet I am a Roman."
"You are no Roman! Forgive me, friend, it is long since a Roman
existed, else I could never be the Count of the Harbour of Neapolis. No
one can feel as you do, whose nation yet exists; and all must feel as I
do, who belong to a living people."
Julius was silent for a short time. "If it be indeed so, then happy I!
If I have lost the earth, I have gained heaven! What are nations, what
are states, what is the earth? Not here below is the home of my
immortal soul, which longs for a kingdom where all is divine and
eternal!"
"Stop, Julius," said Totila, standing still, and striking his lance
upon the ground. "Here upon earth have I a firm footing; here let me
stand and live, doing good, and enjoying what is beautiful. I will not
follow you into your heaven. I cannot. I honour your dreams and your
longing for holiness; but I do not share your feelings. You know," he
added, smiling, "that I am an inveterate heathen, like Valeria--my
Valeria! I remember her at the right moment. Your earth-forsaking
dreams make us forget the dearest things upon that earth! Look, we have
reached the city again; the sun sinks rapidly here in the south, and
before nightfall I must take some seeds to the garden of Valerius. A
fine gardener," he laughed, "to forget his flowers. Farewell. I turn to
the right."
"Farewell. Greet Valeria for me. I shall go home and read."
"What are you reading now? still Plato?"
"No, Augustinus. Farewell!"