seized by the desire of
drinking wine from the skull of his dead enemy. Flushed with wine, and
careless of the feelings of his wife, he bade her, following his
example, drink from the ghastly cup. Rage and desire for revenge filled
Rosamunde's heart, but of necessity she obeyed the cruel order, though
at the same moment she resolved upon a terrible retribution for the
horrible deed. Through her personal charms she won Helmichis, the royal
shield bearer, and while Alboin lay sleeping upon his couch after a
heavy repast, he was pierced by the murderer's sword. To make sure of
his death, Rosamunde had fastened Alboin's weapon to the bedpost so that
he might the more safely be delivered into the hands of her lover.
Helmichis's hope to succeed to Alboin's throne was vain. He was
compelled to flee with Rosamunde to the eastern Roman prefect, Longinus,
at Ravenna. Tired of her now useless tool, Helmichis, the treacherous
woman was easily persuaded by Longinus to do away with the murderer and
to marry the prefect. She offered to Helmichis, who was arising from his
bath, a cup of poisoned wine. While drinking it, either the taste of the
wine or a triumphant glance in the eye of his mistress suggested his
fate, and, sword in hand, he forced Rosamunde to drink the rest of the
poison and thus to die with him.

Turning from this ghastly tragedy, we may read the first story of
romanticism. This is the tale of the love and marriage of fair-locked
Authari, a successor of Alboin in the kingship of the Langobards, to
Theodelinda, daughter of Garibald the Bavarian duke. A brilliant
embassy, headed by King Authari himself, who was incognito, arrived at
the Bavarian court to sue for the hand of the beautiful princess. At a
solemn festival, King Authari besought that Theodelinda herself should
give him a draught of wine. The lady gratified his desire, and Authari,
charmed by so much loveliness, caressingly stroked the hand of his
future bride; she, blushing at his boldness, modestly cast down her
eyes. Later on, she complained to her nurse of the boldness, but the
wise old woman consolingly assured her: "No simple Langobard nobleman
would have dared the deed; this man can be no other but the king himself
and your bridegroom." Having obtained the consent of the duke and the
princess, the Langobard embassy, accompanied by a host of Bavarian
nobles, joyfully rode homeward. Arrived at the frontier, Authari, his
heart swelling with love, raised h