ataswintha."

Duke Guntharis was silent.

But Arahad cried: "Then thou hast never loved her!"

Witichis started; the force of his grief and his love redoubled. His
cheeks flushed, and casting an annihilating look at the alarmed youth,
he cried:

"Talk not to me of love! Blaspheme not, thou foolish boy! Because red
lips and white limbs flash before thee in thy dreams, darest thou to
speak of love? What knowest thou of what I have lost in this wife, the
mother of my sweet child? A world of love and faith! Irritate me not.
My heart is sore. I control my pain and despair with difficulty. Do not
exasperate them, or they will break loose!"

Duke Guntharis had become very thoughtful.

"I knew thee, Witichis, in the wars with the Gepidae. Never saw I
ignoble man deal such noble strokes. I know that there is nought false
in thee. I know the love which binds a man to a good wife. And thou
hast sacrificed such a wife to thy people? That is much!"

"Brother, of what thinkest thou?" cried Arahad. "What dost thou intend
to do?"

"I intend not to allow the House of the Woelfungs to be outdone in
generosity. Noble blood, Arahad, demands noble acts! Tell me one thing
more, Witichis. Wherefore hast thou not rather sacrificed thy crown,
even thy life, than thy wife?"

"Because it would have been the certain destruction of the kingdom.
Twice I would have yielded the crown to Earl Arahad; twice the leaders
of my army swore that they would never acknowledge him. Three, four
Gothic kings might have been chosen, but, by my honour, Earl Arahad
would never have been acknowledged. Then I tore my wife from my
bleeding heart; and now, Duke Guntharis, remember thou also the people
of the Goths. The House of the Woelfungs is lost if the Goths are lost.
If Belisarius lay the axe to the roots of the trunk, the noblest
branches will fall too. I have renounced my wife, the crown of my life;
renounce thou the hope of a crown!"

"It shall not be sung in the halls of the Goths that the freedman
Witichis was more self-sacrificing than the chief of the nobility! The
strife is at an end; I greet thee, my King."

And the proud Duke bent his knee to Witichis, who raised him and
pressed him to his heart.

"Brother! brother! what shame thou dost me!" cried Arahad.

"I look upon it as an honour," said Guntharis quietly. "And as a sign
that my King sees no cowardice, but rather nobleness, in my homage, I
beg a favour. Amelungs and Balthes have ouste