y," said Procopius, "when he has only his left hand. I
thank you, and will follow your advice, Cethegus. I will write the
'Secret History' in revenge for the 'Edifices.' But now it is your turn
to tell your story. I know the progress of events, through letters and
the report of fugitives from Rome, or legionaries set free by Totila,
until the time when you were last seen in your house, or, as they say,
were last heard. Now relate what happened afterwards, you Prefect
without a city!"

"Immediately," said Cethegus. "But tell me first, how did Belisarius
succeed in the last Persian war?"

"As usual. You should not need to ask such a question! He had really
beaten the enemy, and was on the point of forcing the Persian King,
Chosroes, the son of Kabades, to conclude a lasting peace. Just then
Areobindos, the Prince of Purple Snails, appeared in the camp with the
announcement of an armistice of half a year's duration, granted,
unknown to Belisarius, by Byzantium. Justinian had long ago entered
into secret negotiations with Chosroes; he needed money; he again
pretended to mistrust Belisarius, and let the Persian King escape for a
hundred tons of gold, just as we were about to draw the net over him.
Narses was wiser. When the Prince of Purple Snails came to him, on the
Saracen side of the scene of war, he declared that the ambassador must
be either a forger or a madman, took him prisoner, and continued the
war until he had completely vanquished the Saracens. Then he sent the
imperial ambassador back with an excuse to Byzantium. But the best
excuse was the keys and treasures of seventy forts and towns which he
had wrested from the enemy during the armistice, which Belisarius had
respected."

"This Narses is----"

"The greatest man of our time," said Procopius, "the Prefect of Rome not
excepted; for he does not, like the latter, wish for impossibilities.
But we--that is, Belisarius and the cripple Procopius--always growling
and grumbling, yet always as faithful as a poodle-dog, and never taught
by experience, kept the armistice, gnashed our teeth, and returned to
Byzantium. And now we wait for new commissions, laurels, and kicks.
Fortunately, Antonina has renounced her inclination for the flowers and
verses of other men, and so the couple--the lion and the dove--live
very happily together here in Byzantium. Belisarius, day and night,
naturally thinks of nothing but how he can again prove his heroism and
devotion to his impe