untroubled by the cares of kings."

"Beatus ille qui procul negotiis," quoted the learned lady, sighing.

"But, because I honour science, because I, a scholar of Plato, desire
that the wise should govern, I wish that a Queen should reign over my
fatherland who is only a Goth by birth, but in her soul a Greek, and by
her virtues a Roman. For her sake I will sacrifice my leisure to hated
business. But only on condition that this shall be my last office of
state. I will undertake your commission, and answer for Rome with my
head."

"Good; here you will find the legal documents which you will need."

Cethegus looked rapidly through the records.

"This is the manifesto of the young King to the Romans, with your
signature. _His_ is still wanting."

Amalaswintha dipped the Cnidian reed-pen into the vessel filled with
crimson ink, which was used by the Amelungs as well as by the Roman
Emperors.

"Come, write thy name, my son," she said.

Athalaric, standing and leaning with both arms on the table, had keenly
observed Cethegus during the above conversation. Now he stood erect. He
was accustomed to act with the usual arrogance of a Crown Prince and
the petulancy of an invalid.

"No," he said impatiently; "I will not write. Not only because I do
not trust this cold Roman--I do not trust you in the least, you proud
man--but it is revolting that, while my noble father still breathes,
you already quarrel about his crown. You dwarfs! About the crown of a
giant! Shame on your insensibility! Behind those curtains the greatest
hero of the century is dying, and you think already of the partition of
his garment!"

He turned his back upon them and went slowly to the window, where he
passed his arm round his lovely sister, and stroked her shining hair.
He stood there for some time; she did not notice him.

Suddenly she started from her reverie.

"Athalaric," she whispered, hastily grasping his arm, and pointing at
the marble staircase, "who is that man in the blue steel helmet, who is
just coming round that pillar? Say, who is it?"

"Let me see," said the youth, bending forward. "That? Oh! that is Earl
Witichis, the conqueror of the Gepidae, a famous hero."

And he told her of the deeds and triumphs of the Earl in the last war.

Meanwhile Cethegus had looked inquiringly at the Princess and the
minister.

"Let him alone," sighed Amalaswintha. "If he will not, no power on
earth can make him."

Further questions on the par