"That was a good thrust, Theudigisel," he whispered. "But let us see how it will end. This King is losing the best moment."
And so it seemed. For meanwhile the nobles had somewhat recovered from their confusion, and, though no longer quite so insolently as before, but still defiantly enough, Gundomar stepped forward, saying: "You are a hero, O King! It was ungrateful to doubt it, but you are not easy to understand, yet we neither will nor can serve and obey even a hero as our ancestors, Genseric's bears, served him."
"It is neither necessary nor possible," Modigisel added. He attempted to lisp and drawl according to the Roman fashion, but, carried away by genuine emotion, soon forgot the affectation. "We are no longer Barbarians, like the comrades of the bloody sea-king. We have learned from the Romans to live and to enjoy. Spare us the heavy weapons. Ours, indisputably, securely ours, is this glorious country, where men can only revel, not toil. Pleasure, pleasure, and again pleasure is alone worth living for. When death comes, all will be over. So, as long as I live, I will kiss and drink, will not fight, and will--"
"Become a slave of Justinian," the King angrily interrupted.
"Pshaw, those little Greeks! They will not dare to attack us."
"Let them come! We will drive them pell-mell into the sea."
"Ah, if the kingdom were in peril--the Gundings know that honor calls them to the head of the wedge in every Vandal battle."
"But no war is threatening."
"No one is trying to quarrel with us."
"Only it pleases the Asdings to make it a pretext for ordering the noblest of the Vandals hither and thither like Moorish mercenaries or ready slaves."