Count Belisarius

Nevertheless, I went on boldly: 'Mistress, it appears to me that if I were to go to Belisarius and tell him, what I believe has never been revealed to him, that Photius confessed under torture to having slandered you; and if I were to swear to him that you and Theodosius were never lovers; and if I were to tell him further that your oaths to Cappadocian John were sworn- were they not?- at the order of the Empress and that you have asked pardon of God for this offence and for your other blasphemies – would you not do that immediately, dearest mistress, to placate Belisarius? – and that you have far more cause to be offended by him than he by you…'

'O wise Eugenius, go with my blessing. Yes, I will ask pardon of God – I would certainly not let that trifle stand in my way. Tell him all that you have just said; and then, if he forgets his pride and anger, you may assure him that I never did love anyone else but himself, and that I will not rest until he is restored to freedom and honour – then he and I will never again be parted.'

'You will appeal to the Empress?'

' I will. I will remind her of the services that I rendered her lately in the matter of Cappadocian John, and of our old friendship, and of the friendship existing between her father, the Bear Master, and mine, the charioteer…'

But I said: 'Dearest mistress, I have a further suggestion to make. I believe that I am in a position to accomplish the final ruin of Cappadocian John myself. If this is done and if you take the credit for it, surely the Empress will give you everything you ask?'

'How?' she asked, eagerly. 'How can you bring this about?'

I replied: 'This afternoon, in a wine-shop, I fell in conversation with a poor young man of Cyzicus, who is dying of a wasting disease and has not long to live. He and his whole family, old grandparents and wife and three young children, have been driven from their home by order of the Bishop of Cyzicus. He came alone on foot to Constantinople, and today applied for justice and relief at the Palace; but the officials drove him away, because the Bishop is in good standing at Court. I sympathized with him, and gave him a piece of silver, telling him to meet me under the statue of the Elephant of Severus tomorrow at noon. I did not disclose my name or that of my employer, and I am not known in that wine-shop.'

'Well?'

'Give mc five hundred pieces in gold, mistress, and that will be sufficient to destroy Cappadocian John.' 'I do not understand.'

'Give me the money and trust mc to undertake the matter.' 'If you succeed, Eugenius, I will give you fifty thousand and your freedom.'

'What is money but bodily comforts, which I already possess? What is "freedom" but to be well considered, as I already am? No, Mistress, my sufficient reward will be that you and my Lord Belisarius and the Empress are relieved of an old enemy, and that the death of your father Damocles, my former master, is avenged, and that I shall have been the means of reconciling the Empress to my Lord Belisarius.'

That evening I sought out Belisarius at his mean lodgings. Though weak from a return of his malarial fever, he rose from his couch to welcome mc. With a smile that concealed the depth of his feeling, he asked: 'And are you not afraid to visit mc, Eugenius, old friend?'

I answered: 'No, Illustrious Lord. With the message that I bring I would have risked passing through fire or a camp of Bulgarian Huns.'

He grew a little impatient: 'Do not address me by titles of which I have been deprived. What is the message?'

I related, as from myself, all that I had agreed with my mistress to say. He listened most eagerly, crying 'Ah!' when I told him that his wife had asked pardon of God. Then I showed him the State papers in which Photius's confession was recorded – having bribed the copying clerk to the Assistant-Registrar for a day's loan of them. Belisarius read them hastily, and then again with great care, and at last he beat his breast and said:' For my jealous rage and my credulity I deserve all that I have suffered. But alas, Eugenius, it is too late now. Your mistress will never forgive me for what I did to her at Daras, even if I make her a full apology.'

I urged him to be of good courage: all would yet be well. Then I repeated my mistress's message, which at first he would not believe to be authentic. He said: 'If your mistress Antonina will indeed still listen to any words of mine, tell her that the fault was wholly on my side – but that it was only an excess of love for her that made me guilty of such madness.'

That night Belisarius and my mistress met secretly at his lodgings. Nobody but myself knew of it. Both embraced me, kissing me on the cheeks, and said that they owed their lives to me.