"To beg great Theodoric's noble daughter to speak one single word, a 'yes.' If you can say this 'yes.'--and I pray to God that you can--then I will serve you as faithfully as ever, so long as my grey hairs are spared."
"And if not?"
"And if not, O Queen," answered the old man sadly--"oh, then farewell to you, and to my last joy in this world!"
"What have you to ask?"
"Amalaswintha, you know that I was far away on the northern frontiers of the realm, when the rebellion here broke out, when that terrible rumour arose, and that fearful accusation was made. I believed nothing--I hurried here from Tridentum--I arrived two days ago, and not an hour passes, not a Goth do I meet, but a terrible doubt falls heavily upon my heart. And you, too, are changed; restless, inconstant--and yet I cannot believe it. One sincere word of yours will dispel all these mists."
"Why use so many words?" she cried, supporting herself on the arm of her chair. "Ask briefly what you have to ask."
"Say but one simple 'yes.' Are you guiltless of the death of the three dukes?"
"And if I were not, have they not richly deserved their fate?"
"Amalaswintha--I beseech you--say 'yes.'"
"You take a very sudden interest in the Gothic rebels!"