"Tenax propositi!" cried Procopius, amazed. "You have not, even now, given up hope?"
"Can I give up myself? I have sent Licinius to enlist a wild and savage race, the Longobardians."
"God protect your Italy if they ever set foot in it."
"I have also succeeded in winning the Empress to my cause, and by her means the propositions of peace made by Cassiodorus were refused at the last moment. For Rome must be freed from the barbarians! But when shall I find means to move this lazy colossus, Justinian? When will fate call me to my battle-field--Italia?"
At this moment Syphax entered the room. He brought Cethegus a message from the Empress. It ran:
"To the Jupiter of the Capitol. Do not leave your house to-morrow until I call you.--Theodora."
On the next day the Emperor Justinian was standing buried in deep reflection before the tall golden crucifix in his room. The expression of his face was very grave, but without a trace of alarm or doubt. Quiet decision lay upon his features, which, else not handsome or noble, at this moment betrayed mental power and superiority. He lifted his eyes almost threateningly to the crucifix.
"God of the Cross," he said, "Thou puttest Thy faithful servant to a hard proof! It seems to me that I have deserved better. Thou knowest all that I have done to the honour of Thy name! Why do not Thy strokes fall upon Thine enemies, the heathens and barbarians? Why not?"
He was interrupted in his soliloquy by the entrance of the chamberlains and wardrobe-keepers.
Justinian exchanged his morning garment for the robes of state. His slaves served him upon their knees.