Behold, like the spirit of divine wrath, so hast thou risen up among us, young man.... Not thy years did the nation count, only thy deeds.... Old men bowed willingly to thy youth, and since thou hadst yet a long time to serve, as one of the humblest, wert thou already our ruler. From the golden throne of Theoderic, where mercy had sat in judgment, where Totilas bestowed pardon with a smile, rang out sternly thy bloody word ... And woe clave to us as a poisoned wound.... Pursued hither and thither beneath the hot outpourings of Vesuvius, we are now encamped with women and children; while Byzantium, with its hireling soldiers, holdeth us surrounded.
Teja.
That it surely doth, ha, ha! Not a mouse can come through.
Bishop.
Our gaze wandereth wistfully seaward: for thence hath God promised us bread.
Teja.
No tidings of the ships?
Ildibad (softly). Nothing.
Bishop.
Before we armed ourselves for a new war with misery, as free men, true to the ancient law, we determined to choose thee a wife, for in his own body should the King taste why the Goth loveth death.