"Despise it not, Hun!" said Theodore, as he saw the keen bright eye of his companion running over the charger's limbs; "despise it not. It has carried my father through a bloody field of battle, and has borne me through a long and painful journey, after which it may well show some signs of weariness; therefore despise it not, though it be unlike the rugged brute which thou ridest thyself."
"I do not despise it," rejoined the Hun. "In former times its soft and silken coat, its delicate limbs and weighty body, might have provoked my scorn; but I have learned to know that all things have their uses, and to despise nothing but vicious luxury, effeminacy, and cowardice. I see no reason why there should not be tribes who fight, and tribes who cultivate the land: each may be useful; and so with your horse and mine. Mine will carry me with a swiftness, and to a distance, and for a length of time, impossible to yours; will bear weather, and food, and cold, under which yours would die; but, very likely, in the shock of battle yours would bear down mine--if I did not prevent it--and, perhaps, might perform feats that mine could never learn. It is only when I see man debase himself to carve images, and paint pictures, and work gold, and spend years in making a dwelling to cover his miserable head, and lie upon the feathers of birds, and cover himself with the woven excrements of a worm, that I now feel disgust. Gems, and jewels, and cups of gold and silver, may be wrought by other nations, and may be used by us; but it is the part of bold and brave men to take them from those who are weak and effeminate enough to make them."
"I cannot argue with you, barbarian," replied Theodore; "my mind wanders unto other things: but I have heard my father say that all the graces and elegances of social life are the true touchstone of the noble heart. Those who are inclined by nature to evil will become effeminate and corrupt under their influence; while those who are brave and virtuous only gain thence a higher point of virtue and a nobler motive for daring. The diamond, when we throw it in the fire, loses nothing but the dirt and dust it may have gathered, and comes out clearer than before. A barbarian fights because he has nothing to lose but life, which has many miseries and few enjoyments; a Roman, because he has a duty to perform, although a thousand ties of refined pleasures and multiplied enjoyments bind him to the life he risks."
"Therefore is it that the Romans fight so feebly," replied the Hun; but as he saw the colour mounting in the cheek of Theodore, he added, "Be not angry, youth: my words shall not offend your ear in a land which thou hast sought, trusting to our hospitality. Thy father might well speak as thou sayst he did, for he was one of those that showed his own words true."
"Thou doest my father justice, my country wrong," replied Theodore; "but the day may come, Hun--the day may come when Romans, rousing themselves from the sleep into which they have fallen, may teach those who now mistake idleness for cowardice, who take the love of repose and peace for timidity, that the lion yet lives, though his roar has not been heard for years."
A grim smile hung for a moment on the lip of the barbarian, and then passed away; but he replied nothing directly to the tart answer of his young companion. At length, as they rode along by the rushing Danube, winding their way once more between the forests and the river, he pointed first to the one and then to the other bank, saying, "Lo, Roman civilization--Scythian rudeness! and yet, as thou sayst, the time may come--nay, it may be near, when the trial will take place, of which country produces, which habits nourish, the boldest hearts and strongest hands. But setting that apart, I say, give me the forest and the wild meadow, and the simple hut or tent of skins, truth, justice, freedom: for it is my belief that simplicity and honesty are one; luxury and falsehood are not to be divided. Look at this forest," he continued, after a brief pause; "it seems almost impervious, yet thou hast found a way through it; and at the foot of the hill which we are now mounting you will find a paved road, leading into the heart of the land. It was constructed by thy ancestors, nearly in a line with the famous vallum Romanum; and if at any time need or fancy should make thee wish to see the nations which live beyond this woody barrier, follow that road, and ask for Onegisus, the friend of Attila the King. Thou shalt find safety, friends, and protection. But see! we are at the top of the hill, and I must leave thee. Yonder, on the other side of the stream, where the blue mist is rolling up the mountain, lies Margus. Lo! its many towers! Thou canst not miss the way. Now Mars protect thee!"
[CHAPTER IX.]
THE BISHOP OF MARGUS.
The two sides of that mountain were like the prospect laid out beneath the eyes of man when, in the midst of life, he pauses to survey the past and to scrutinize the future. Dark and gloomy, on the one hand, stretched masses impervious to the eye, wrapped in uncertain mists and vague, undefined confusion, where nothing was known, nothing was sure, but that there lay ruin, chill neglect, and desolation, even unto those regions where the Cimmerian darkness of the grave covered and confounded all. On the other hand, stretching out like the sweet memories that lie along the path of youth, was seen a fair and beautiful land, with the Danube rushing on through the midst towards Margus: valley and hill, fragments of the Dacian forests, but broken by broad cultivated plains, a watch-tower here and there; then, within their guardian line, a farm, a villa, gardens, and pasturages, with the towers and walls of Margus at about eight miles' distance; and beyond, but to the right, the Mons Aureus rising, like a pile of lapis lazuli, in blue majestic splendour to the sky.
Theodore paused to gaze; and feelings, mingled, intense, and even painful, woke in his bosom at the sight of those fair scenes from which he might so soon be driven, contrasted with that dark and gloomy land which might prove his only refuge.