nd they are right. But we, we
are the fools to trust them."

There ensued a pause; the youth had become very grave, and asked:

"So thou holdest friendship to be impossible 'twixt them and us?"

"No peace between the sons of Gaul and the Southern folk! A man enters
the gold cave of a dragon--he holds the head of the dragon down with an
iron fist; the monster begs for life. The man feels compassion because
of his glittering scales, and feasts his eyes on the treasures of the
cavern. What will the poisonous reptile do? As soon as he can he will
sting him stealthily, so that he who spared him dies."

"Well then, let them come, the despicable Greeks!" shouted the gigantic
Hildebad; "let the race of vipers dart their forked tongues at us. We
will beat them down--so!" And he lifted his club and let it fall
heavily, so that the marble slab split into pieces, and the old temple
resounded with the blow.

"Yes, they shall try!" cried Totila, and from his eyes shone a martial
fire that made him look still more beautiful; "if these unthankful
Romans betray us, if the false Byzantines come," he looked with loving
pride at his strong brother, "see, old man, we have men like oaks!"

The old master-at-arms nodded, well pleased:

"Yes, Hildebad is very strong, though not quite as strong as Winither,
Walamer and others, who were young with me. Against North-men strength
is a good thing. But this Southern folk," he continued angrily, "fight
from towers and battlements. They carry on war as they might make a
reckoning, and at last they reckon a host of heroes into a corner,
where they can neither budge nor stir. I know one such arithmetician in
Byzantium, who is himself no man, but conquers men. Thou, too, knowest
him, Witichis?" So asking, he turned to the man with the sword.

"I know Narses," answered Witichis reflectively. He had become very
grave. "What thou hast said, son of Hilding, is, alas! too true. Such
thoughts have often crossed my mind, but confusedly, darkly, more a
horror than a thought. Thy words are undeniable; the King is at the
point of death--the Princess has Grecian sympathies--Justinian is on
the watch--the Italians are false as serpents--the generals of
Byzantium are magicians in art, but"--here he took a deep breath--"we
Goths do not stand alone. Our wise King has made friends and allies in
abundance. The King of the Vandals is his brother-in-law, the King of
the West Goths his grandson, the Kings of the Bur