Eudocia 
 
By 
 EDEN PHILLPOTTS 
 
 EVANDER 
 
 Green Alleys 
 
 Orphan Dinah 
 
 Miser's Monet ' 
 
 The Grey Room 
 
 A Shadow Passes 
 
 Storm in a Teacup 
 
 The Banks op Colne 
 
 Plain Song, 1914-1916 
 
 Chronicles op Saint Tid 
 
 The Human Boy and the War 
 
E u d o c i a 
 
 (A Comedy Royal) 
 
 BY 
 
 EDEN PHILLPOTTS 
 
 JBeto gotk 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 1921 
 
 All right* 
 
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 
 Copyright, 1921, 
 By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 
 
 3et«up and printed. Published October, 1921. 
 
 Press of 
 
 J. J. Little li Ives Company 
 
 New York, U. S. A. 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 No historical value attaches to this romance, for 
 one has but taken half a page from Gibbon and 
 elaborated the good story against its gorgeous back- 
 ground — a Court as magnificent to the eye as con- 
 temptible to the heart of man. By its own momen- 
 tum the huge organisation of the Eastern Empire 
 rolled on for certain centuries after the reign of 
 Eudocia and Komanus, though the fabric of the 
 mass had long begun to shed its substance and the 
 axe was at the root. 
 
 History is but a reverberation; and the forces 
 that brought down the Byzantines similarly com- 
 bined against all earlier civilisations and will re- 
 solve all later. We have seen them operating in 
 this our time, raising new kingdoms and destroy- 
 ing old, through the dynamic genius of an irrational 
 humanity that changes not. Only reason can 
 secure and endure stability; but reason has yet to 
 find her place in the sun of man's favour ; no kings 
 or peoples bring gold and frankincense to that 
 cradle. The comedy is not, therefore, archaic ; but 
 read in the light of to-day, alive — at least in spirit. 
 
 E. P. 
 
 472048 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2008 with funding from 
 
 Microsoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/eudociacomedyroyOOphilrich 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGB 
 
 I The Palace 1 
 
 II The Prison 99 
 
 III Beside the Vineyards 181 
 
 IV The Cathedral 259 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 THE PALACE 
 
EUDOCIA 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE PALACE 
 §1 
 
 At Constantinople, during the year one thousand 
 and sixty-seven, a great apartment in that quarter 
 of the royal palace known as "Daphne" was set for 
 an assemblage. Widowed Eudocia reigned alone 
 at this moment, and she better liked the "Daphne" 
 than those huge and brazen and echoing vaults of 
 "Chalce," where bygone monarchs had dispensed 
 Byzantine justice, or injustice, through the cen- 
 turies. 
 
 Daphne's throne was set amid a semicircle of 
 lower seats and lighted by a rainbow dome of 
 many-coloured crystal. Behind the regal cushion, 
 in an alabaster wall, there stood doors of silver, 
 whereon was chased the story of victorious wars; 
 
 3 
 
4 EUDOCIA 
 
 16 the west of the council chamber ascended a 
 row of slender pillars, and beyond them opened a 
 broad piazza, shielded from the noon sunshine by 
 awnings of russet and gold. Here, on marble, 
 spread the skins of bear and tiger, lay scattered 
 silken cushions — orange red, azure, and ivory-white 
 — and stood couches of ebony, gemmed with mother- 
 o' -pearl and onyx. In the midst a fountain played 
 out of a round basin overlaid with gold. Trees 
 waved their topmost branches along the balustrades 
 of this uplifted balcony, and behind the dusky 
 glitter of ilex and the feathers of phoenix palms 
 there spread the silver-shot waters of Marmora; 
 while beyond, separating sea and sky, lay south- 
 ward in a purple cloud the lands of Lesser Asia. 
 
 A flight of steps rose from the gardens to the 
 balcony, and now there ascended a boy and a little 
 withered man with a face like a monkey. He was 
 clad fantastically, as became a jester, and his 
 dwarfish body shone in a doublet of green silk 
 slashed with scarlet. Upon his grey hair he wore 
 a velvet bonnet with a great bronze brooch in it; 
 his shrunken legs were gartered white over black. 
 
 "Lizard," cried the child, flinging himself 
 among the cushions, "make me laugh. I am tired 
 of my book." 
 
THE PALACE 5 
 
 He dropped a little manuscript bound in tor- 
 toise-shell and turned to his attendant. Saurus, or 
 the "Lizard," for none knew him by another name, 
 had been a jester at the Court of Constantine, and 
 now was nurse and watcher to the dead monarch's 
 son, Michael. For Eudocia loved the mannikin and 
 trusted the prince with him; while Michael Ducas 
 himself, precarious heir to the throne, generally 
 found happiness in the companionship of the 
 ancient creature. 
 
 The child spoke in a querulous voice, like the 
 whimper of a young hawk. His black hair was cut 
 straight across his forehead above a pair of black 
 eyebrows and eyes dark brown and beautiful. These 
 he had won of his mother ; but his face was feminine 
 in feature and his pretty, red mouth seemed rather 
 made for kisses than commands. He was emotional 
 and impetuous. Already he loved and hated 
 heartily; already he hungered to know more than 
 was good for him and strove to win state secrets 
 from Eudocia's women, or herself. He wore a 
 jerkin of purple, and on his small brown hands and 
 leathern shoes sparkled many a gem. 
 
 "Won't your book make you laugh, Prince?" 
 inquired the dwarf, as he sank to rest in the shade 
 beside the boy and took off his cap. 
 
6 EUDOCIA 
 
 "It's all about dead people," answered Michael 
 Ducas; "and when I laugh I think: 'But these who 
 make me laugh are dead/ And then I can laugh 
 no more. I hate death— I hate it." 
 
 Saurus shook his head. 
 
 "Better to laugh along with jolly dead men than 
 weep with the sad living," he answered. "Small 
 matter makes for laughter in these days. Every 
 twilight holds a trouble, and some are grown so big 
 and brave, they'll soon fright the noonday sunlight. 
 Dark deeds are brewing and dark history mak- 
 ing." 
 
 "I'll love you no more, Lizard," cried the boy. 
 "You croak like an old raven to me and keep your 
 fun for others." 
 
 "A man may hide from the wise and prudent his 
 worst, or best thoughts, and reveal them to babes, 
 my Prince." 
 
 "I'm not a babe. My mother said but yesterday 
 I was growing very wise. A prince is always wise. 
 If you must croak, then croak the truth. I order 
 you, Lizard. I know there is trouble even at Court. 
 I see trouble in the people's eyes, and their lips 
 whisper." 
 
 "It is your friend, Nicephorus. Alas for us all ! 
 
THE PALACE 7 
 
 his sun is sinking, Michael. Soon he will be gone, 
 and in the sunset flames of such a mighty one, even 
 the Evening Star herself may lose her light." 
 
 "Nicephorus ! He loves my mother best of all," 
 said Michael. 
 
 "Would that she knew it, Prince." 
 
 "She knows everything." 
 
 "False knowledge slays the true," murmured 
 Saurus. "Her ear's abused. The Caesar " 
 
 Michael interrupted him. 
 
 "Uncle John loves mother, too. He was my 
 father's right hand, she says." 
 
 "A hand, perhaps ; but Caesar never had a head," 
 answered the little man thoughtfully. 
 
 Michael stared aghast at such audacious words. 
 
 "You'll lose your own head, Lizard, if you dare 
 say such things. Is not Uncle John wise?" 
 
 "He is kind and good and honest and loyal, 
 Prince ; but he has ears, and at them, they who buzz 
 loudest win to the chambers of his royal brain. The 
 Patriarch and Psellus " 
 
 Again Michael broke in. 
 
 "I hate Xiphilin — I hate him! And I hate 
 Michael Psellus more. I will never read his books, 
 for they are sure to be full of lies. I often wish I 
 
8 EUDOCIA 
 
 were not called 'Michael/ because that name be- 
 longs to him as well." 
 
 "Think only of the good Archangel, Prince." 
 
 "Michael Psellus makes my blood run cold when 
 his eyes look at me, Lizard. They eat me. I know 
 he would gobble me up like a wolf if he could." 
 
 Saurus was interested. 
 
 "Children and dogs seldom err — so they say. 
 They have a gift to read their enemies. Psellus and 
 the most reverend Xiphilin hold the Caesar safe — 
 safe in the hollow of their hands, Michael. Your 
 royal uncle, John Ducas, is honest, but he has no 
 imagination — an apt tool for dishonest men who 
 have plenty. The future all belongs to Xiphilin, 
 our Patriarch; and not only shall he hold the 
 keys of hell and heaven, Prince, but his supreme 
 word may soon be shutting and opening our prisons 
 and our palaces on earth. He is hungrier for power 
 than Satan." 
 
 Michael snorted indignantly. 
 
 "Black-bearded pig ! Does dear Nicephorus know 
 that the Patriarch and Psellus are his foes, Lizard?" 
 
 "Aye, he knows well enough." 
 
 "Be it as it may, my mother is the Empress and 
 needs none to help her, though ministers fret and 
 
THE PALACE 9 
 
 quarrel," said the child; but Saurus shook his 
 head. 
 
 "On God's good earth there's but one weaker 
 than an Emperor, and that's an Empress, Michael." 
 
 "How dare you say that? My mother would 
 chop out your wicked tongue if she heard you." 
 
 "None knows it better than she; and better still 
 will know it when Mcephorus has fallen." 
 
 He sighed, put his face in his hands, then lifted 
 it and spoke again. 
 
 "Nicephorus was her sword, and they have 
 whispered to her that Roman blade is poisoned. 
 Even his friends, who wish him no more than peace 
 — even they tell Eudocia that his edge is blunt from 
 a lifetime of service, and must now hide in a 
 dishonourable sheath. What a race are we — we 
 Byzantines ! When we would punish a mighty one 
 for ever fallen from power, what do we do, 
 young Michael?" 
 
 "Put out his eyes, and cut off his nose and his 
 ears," answered the child promptly. 
 
 "That is our strenuous custom," admitted 
 Saurus; "but sometimes we choose a more Chris- 
 tian way, and leave him his eyes, to find the road 
 to heaven, and spare his ears, that he may heed the 
 
10 EUDOCIA 
 
 message of the Church and save his soul. Such 
 subjects of royal clemency go to the priesthood, 
 with a snug monastery for their prison-house. Yet 
 is it well, think you, that a servant of kings, flung 
 down for crime against the Empire, should, for his 
 disgrace and scourge and punishment, be made a 
 minister of the Most High?" 
 
 But the boy quailed before a vision, and was not 
 concerned with the general problem. 
 
 "Mcephorus turned into a monk with shaven 
 head!" he cried; "his white hair cropped off his 
 skull. Mother could not " 
 
 "The Caesar is convinced; the Senate go with 
 him." 
 
 "But he is good, I tell you, Lizard. The Csesar 
 is very good. Was he not my own father's 
 brother?" 
 
 "Granted, Prince; and none judges goodness so 
 shrewdly as a knave, or quicklier uses the goodness 
 of a good man to better his own wickedness. Da- 
 mascus steel must keep its temper, though in a 
 villain's hand." 
 
 "Listen to me, old Lizard. My mother is the soul 
 of all things good, and cannot she and Uncle John 
 make of their goodness strength to save Nice- 
 phorus?" 
 
THE PALACE 11 
 
 "When good meets good, evil often follows, 
 Prince." 
 
 But the boy denied it. 
 
 "Now you lie, Lizard, for I have a book that says 
 two rights cannot make a wrong." 
 
 "Then burn your book," answered the jester. 
 "Your book is the liar, not I. All history, all knowl- 
 edge prove they can. Meant not they well who 
 forced the hemlock on Socrates and crucified the 
 world's Saviour for blasphemy? Meant not they 
 well ?" 
 
 He broke off, for two men had entered the Daphne 
 from a minor door. 
 
 "See who come here — one a well -meaner — and 
 
 one- 
 
 Michael had risen and run to the shorter of the 
 approaching figures. Both were attired for a ses- 
 sion of Court, but while Michael Psellus, the his- 
 torian and statesman, wore few jewels upon the 
 rich amber and russet of his gaberdine, John Ducas 
 displayed about his short, full-bodied and unim- 
 posing person the decorations of the Caesar, his 
 green shoon and open tiara. His frock was stiff 
 with gems, and he sought a chair and passed a silken 
 handkerchief over his fat and kindly face, as his 
 nephew hastened into his arms. For a moment 
 
12 EUDOCIA 
 
 anxiety left the Caesar's countenance: he smiled 
 upon the child and only lost his smile when he 
 heard young Michael speak. 
 
 "Uncle John, dear Uncle John, what terrible sad 
 thing is this I hear? Oh, say it isn't true." 
 
 "True things are terrible and sad sometimes, my 
 pretty one," answered Ducas, sighing. 
 
 "But Mcephorus — the Lizard tells me that dear, 
 dear Mcephorus must shave his head." 
 
 "Or lose his head," replied Michael Psellus. He 
 was a tall, thin man with an aquiline face and lofty 
 brow. His hands were long and beautiful, but they 
 were restless and seemed to be always itching for 
 the stylus. Men feared him, as all who wrote were 
 feared at that time ; but the Caesar esteemed him for 
 a fountain of wisdom and entertained no suspicion 
 of his loyalty. 
 
 "Perhaps a lesser evil," snapped Saurus, who 
 feared none and hated the man of letters. 
 
 Whereupon Psellus flashed lightning on the an- 
 cient imp. 
 
 "Guard your lips wiser, fool," he answered. "It 
 is well for you no priest heard that." 
 
 Meantime John Ducas listened to his nephew. 
 
 "And so Michael turns to business of the State?" 
 he asked, stroking the boy's sleek hair. 
 
 "There's none like him — none like splendid 
 
THE PALACE 13 
 
 Mcephorus in all the world," vowed Michael, while 
 the Caesar grew grave. 
 
 "Indeed I hope not, nephew. Get yon back to 
 your books and games ; and yon, Saurus, entertain 
 his young ears with sweeter stuff than politics. 
 Keep his heart clean and his forehead free a little 
 longer." 
 
 "Mcephorus will fight," cried Michael in a 
 passion. "He will fight you, Psellus; and I, too, 
 will fight against you." 
 
 "Be wise and only fight your enemies, not your 
 friends, most noble Sir," answered Psellus, smiling. 
 
 "And so you shall fight," promised the Caesar, 
 "and buckle on a good sword, when your young 
 body is stout enough to bear it. Now begone. The 
 Court assembles here." 
 
 "Come, Prince," begged Saurus; and Michael, 
 still heaving with childish anger, loitered away to 
 the steps. 
 
 "I want my mother," he said petulantly, as he 
 disappeared with his grotesque guardian. 
 
 §2 
 
 Upon the boy's departure, Caesar and Psellus 
 proceeded with a conversation into which he had 
 broken. 
 
14 EUDOCIA 
 
 "It is done as I have declared to you," said John 
 
 Ducas, " well done, but painfully done. The 
 
 Empress is now convinced, and the issue of the trial 
 upon our evidence can only be his destruction. She 
 was upset. Mcephorus enjoyed my brother's trust 
 for so many years, and she has long regarded him 
 as her pillar and stand-by. But Eudocia is just. 
 He must fall, for he will not deny the charge. She 
 knows that it is not my fault ; and yet in her eyes 
 I see our old friendship strained a little." 
 
 "That was bound to be. A woman always finds 
 it hardest to forgive those who lay bare her errors." 
 
 But the Caesar shook his head. 
 
 "She committed no error. The thing that 
 Nicephorus has done was hidden from her until I 
 revealed it. It was but the natural attitude our 
 human nature is prone to take towards the bringer 
 of ill news. For a moment we associate messengers 
 and their tidings. Well she knows that she and 
 her little son are very near my heart. The State 
 alone is nearer. Do you mark this new jewel in my 
 neck chain? The heaviest emerald known on earth. 
 Eudocia must needs give it me upon my birthday." 
 
 Psellus scanned the amazing gem, but showed no 
 admiration. His thoughts ran on. 
 
THE PALACE 15 
 
 "You're a genius," he said. "Much I feared that 
 Eudocia would resist us at the last, and cleave to 
 him against all report." 
 
 "Not mine the credit," answered the other, strok- 
 ing his emerald with a fat forefinger. "Proof is 
 proof, and Xiphilin's word it was that drove home 
 the charge. The Patriarch pleaded subtly with her 
 and showed the increasing danger." 
 
 Psellus nodded. 
 
 "It is not only Mcephorus, but what must follow 
 his fall ! Had she not the wit to look ahead, count 
 the cost, and guess the sequel?" 
 
 "No; nor I the heart to show it her," answered 
 the Caesar. "Yet, perchance she saw," he con- 
 tinued, again wiping the perspiration from his 
 round brow. "There's little she cannot mark with 
 those wonderful eyes. They may look as far into 
 the future as our own." 
 
 "Ours see a goal that Eudocia will not love, for 
 she's proud. But the Nation was never less a toy 
 for a woman than to-day. Nicephorus pandered to 
 her." 
 
 "I would not say so. She has had to thank you 
 largely for her education, Michael Psellus, and you 
 have never denied her to be an apt pupil. Eudocia 
 
16 EUDOCIA 
 
 is wise and has served a stern apprenticeship. My 
 brother, Constantine, owned some philosophy, and 
 imparted it to his young wife." 
 
 "Not such philosophy as she will need now, how- 
 ever," answered Psellus. "Granted her gifts, her 
 light is out ; and the late Emperor is to be thanked 
 for that." 
 
 "How so? You deal ever in enigmas," replied 
 John Ducas somewhat warmly. 
 
 "No enigma, great Caesar. Did not Constantine 
 ordain for her the widow's portion under sacred 
 oath? But Byzantine queens, if queens they still 
 would be, need husbands. So she departs, whither 
 we know, and he — young Michael — and yourself 
 jointly share the throne. Thus only is your dynasty 
 guarded. Your royal brother foresaw as much 
 when he imposed the oath upon her in his dying 
 hour." 
 
 "I never held it so." 
 
 "Great Prince, you must hold it so," answered 
 the other firmly. "Those sworn to your service 
 may speak without fear of being misunderstood. 
 Then what is the truth? A Caesar in these times 
 may lose his eyes as swiftly as a slave. For you, 
 to-day, John Ducas, the throne's the safest place — 
 perhaps the only place of safety." 
 
THE PALACE 17 
 
 The royal man puffed out his breath impatiently 
 and his forehead showed a frown. 
 
 "I loathe conspiracy," he answered; and Psellus 
 ran on in level accents : 
 
 "Why call it that? To ingeminate healthy 
 change is not conspiracy, but rather patriotism. The 
 State has crying need of you, and you of it ; though 
 you better love the cares of mart and field. United 
 with imperial power, you stand; divided, who 
 knows? But this we know : none may be separated 
 from his destiny." 
 
 "I fear, Psellus; I fear." 
 
 "There's nothing to be feared but dalliance and 
 shirking of duty, Caesar. I am used to read men — 
 it is my business as chronicler — and I know you 
 better than you know yourself. You cannot fear. 
 And remember that the Church has spoken clearly. 
 Xiphilin is of my mind. Indeed his inspiration 
 showed the inevitable way." 
 
 "It were none the less better — a thousand times 
 better — if she might wed again," answered the 
 brother-in-law of the Empress; and then it was the 
 part of Michael Psellus to reveal impatience. 
 
 " 'If 'if ' " he said. "We cannot waste 
 
 our brains with 'ifs,' royal Sir. They're doubtful 
 slaves at best and fatal stumbling blocks to action. 
 
18 EUDOCIA 
 
 That matter is settled for ever — as unutterably 
 fixed as the rooted corner stone of our walls. She, 
 the Queen, beside her dying husband, took oath to 
 wed no more. The Patriarch heard her vow, and it 
 is written on parchment and shrined within St. 
 Sophia's — to last till Doom. To her dead husband 
 and her living God she is a widow for ever, and, 
 being so, must yield the throne to her son and you. 
 The dynasty demands that sacrifice, if sacrifice it 
 be." 
 
 "I love her, Psellus," answered the elder. "Not 
 for her bearing only, but her pride, her grace, her 
 joy of life. Is it not hard that such a royal spirit, 
 such a rich soul, should doff the robe she wears so 
 well, yield up the sceptre and steal away to some 
 sad, holy nook to eat her heart out?" 
 
 But Psellus was no sentimentalist. 
 
 "You speak as a relative, not a statesman, when 
 you ask me that," he answered. "A Caesar must 
 banish domestic predilections. One Empress less 
 and one nun more is little matter in a nation's story. 
 Let women reign over women if they will, not over 
 half the world. She was not born in the Porphyry." 
 
 Caesar changed the subject. 
 
 "Does Nicephorus know that his hour has 
 struck?" he asked. 
 
 "Well enough. The Court is full of spies. Where 
 
THE PALACE 19 
 
 the corn is, the vermin are not far off. Was sen- 
 tence hinted at? Did Xiphilin tonch it?" 
 
 "Yes — the Church — a monastery where he best 
 pleases." 
 
 Psellus showed disappointment. 
 
 "Nicephorus is safer in his grave," he answered. 
 "A man may doff the hooded robe as easily as 
 he puts it on ; but he cannot put on his head again." 
 
 "Her trust is dead," answered John Ducas; "yet, 
 for old time's sake, she will never take his life. A 
 tender memory often rides over present wrong, to 
 weaken policy and soften judgment. Be warned. 
 Urge no capital punishment nor bodily outrage upon 
 Nicephorus, or you will lose her friendship. He 
 must go to the cloister — no hardship that for one 
 of his philosophy and contemplative spirit." 
 
 " 'Philosophy,' " sneered the writer. "Is it 
 philosophy to wait on the event and never stir until 
 a thing has happened? In statecraft, or life-craft, 
 who but a fool does that, knowing the time we waste 
 is not wasted by our enemies?" 
 
 "There are spirits too great for politics, that cry 
 so loudly always for instant deeds," replied the 
 other wearily. "Only a small mind knows how to 
 make itself up quickly, and too much brain often 
 begets too little action." 
 
 "In these days your waiting, watching intellect 
 
20 EUDOCIA 
 
 breeds death," answered Michael Psellus. "An open 
 mind at our helm will wreck the shuddering ship, 
 for each wave may be the last." 
 
 As he spoke figures ascended from the palace gar- 
 dens; a cross of gold flashed and came forward, 
 where three acolytes walked abreast ; while behind 
 them followed two priests and Xiphilin, the Patri- 
 arch of the East. 
 
 He was a square-built, solid man, clad in a black 
 robe unadorned save for a cross of precious stones 
 upon his bosom. He wore a black hat without a 
 brim, and his remarkable face was swarthy, round 
 and heavily bearded. His eyes shone with a bold 
 and fierce lustre, his heavy nose was hooked, his 
 beautiful voice rang like a clarion and spoke of 
 birth and breeding. For Xiphilin was a Patrician 
 — one who had abjured the privileges of his rank 
 and entered the Church, to seek therein higher 
 power than a neglected and impotent nobility could 
 offer. Ambition burned in his eyes, and from his 
 supreme, sacerdotal eminence he already sought 
 nearer worlds than heaven to conquer. At the age 
 of five and forty he had reached the Patriarchal 
 throne, to find a thorn ; for the gulf that separated 
 the formidable sovereignty of a Western Pope from 
 an Eastern Patriarch, making the latter a small 
 
THE PALACE 21 
 
 figure by comparison, tortured Xiphilin in his sleep- 
 ing and waking hours. Under the Eastern consti- 
 tution he must remain a servant of the Throne, 
 and any servitude was poison to his soul. Now his 
 constructive and restless mind had entered into 
 court intrigue and he held that the Church, for her 
 own welfare and the nation's salvation, must aid 
 the State at a crisis, dethrone the widowed Em- 
 press and advance the Caesar and her son. In com- 
 mon with others he dreaded a woman's rule ; nor did 
 he love Eudocia, but guessed that John Ducas 
 would prove a more compliant monarch and friend- 
 lier to his purposes than she. He hated sex, and 
 set its potency in affairs to the credit of women 
 rather than men. His theological bias set fero- 
 ciously against all things feminine, and he had as 
 yet known no high interests served by human love. 
 The lust of the flesh was a hunger unfelt by him ; 
 under the lust of the spirit he went in chains. 
 
 The Caesar and Psellus saluted Xiphilin with 
 reverence. Then the historian paid compliment to 
 his recent diplomacy. 
 
 "You have done well, Patriarch, and won her 
 Majesty," he said. 
 
 "Not unto me the praise," replied Xiphilin, from 
 force of habit. "Rather thank Heaven, that opened 
 
22 EUDOCIA 
 
 Eudocia's heart to wisdom and convinced her we 
 spoke truth. You must leap into the saddle in- 
 stantly, Psellus." 
 
 "Her wish ?" 
 
 "Her need — the Nation's need. Mcephorus can- 
 not fall unless you rise. The Senate knows there 
 is none else." 
 
 Michael Psellus saw the ambition of long, patient 
 years gratified at last. He stood the Prime Minister 
 of the East. For a moment he closed his eyes and 
 breathed gently. His fingers still seemed reaching 
 for a pen. 
 
 The Caesar's voice recalled him to himself. 
 
 "There is more work yet. The Governor of 
 Thrace answers his indictment — high treason to 
 the Throne." 
 
 "Romanus Diogenes is doomed," declared Xiphi- 
 lin. "The witnesses are come along with him: 
 Zonaras and Philagrius — very honest, high-born 
 men, who heard with their own ears the thing he 
 said. My brother, Bardas, their present host, is 
 much cast down, for he and Romanus were old 
 camp-fellows, and Bardas held him in great 
 esteem." 
 
 "Much I mourn this catastrophe also," answered 
 
THE PALACE 23 
 
 John Ducas; "for Romanus was a very great 
 general." 
 
 "Also a very great fool/' added Michael Psellus. 
 "As many generals are." 
 
 "Right must be done; flagrant treason must be 
 paid," asserted the Patriarch. 
 
 "And yet they whisper that the mercenaries will 
 make grave trouble if ill betide him," ventured the 
 Caesar. 
 
 As he spoke there entered a small company, and 
 two Thracians, about to testify against the Gover- 
 nor of Thrace, together with Xiphilin's brother, 
 Bardas, a centurion and a small band of Varangian 
 guards came into the Daphne, ascending thereto 
 from the groves beneath. 
 
 Bardas, the Protostrator, was a showy man of 
 thirty-five — taller, more shapely and younger by 
 ten years than the Patriarch. As keeper of the 
 royal hawks and hounds he filled a position of no 
 political importance, yet not a sinecure. He prided 
 himself upon his skill in all matters pertaining to 
 sport ; the people adored him, for he ordered their 
 shows in the hippodrome; he was of a convention- 
 ally handsome exterior, with a beard, which he 
 combed and curled after the Assyrian manner, and 
 
24 EUDOCIA 
 
 rolling eyes the women loved. He had not shone in 
 war, and revealed no ambition again to desert the 
 palace for the field. He feared his brother, and 
 Xiphilin despised him. 
 
 Philagrius and Zonaras were elderly men, who 
 came not willingly to Court. Weary from their 
 journey, they saluted the Caesar as he greeted them. 
 
 "Welcome from Thrace, good friends," said John 
 Ducas ; "would that you were at Constantinople on 
 a happier errand." 
 
 "And so would we," replied Zonaras. "We share 
 the Caesar's lament and are here unwillingly." 
 
 He spoke without awe and revealed indifference 
 to the splendid figures about him. 
 
 "Romanus was dear to us," explained the other. 
 
 "And ever shall be," added Zonaras. Then Phi- 
 lagrius, the suaver man, proceeded : 
 
 "We sat at meat with him — his guests. We drank 
 his wine, were merry and set no value upon the 
 fatal words. But secret enemies, hungry to stab, 
 shared the board. They told the thing again in its 
 nakedness, unsoftened by the circumstances, and 
 out of its setting." 
 
 Bardas strutted and fumed while the Thracians 
 spoke. He talked in a big voice and showed indig- 
 nation. But he was a theatrical soul and acted 
 
THE PALACE 25 
 
 from habit even when in earnest. He knew the 
 grace of his deportment, his charm of movement, 
 and though these were in a measure lost under the 
 bejewelled robes of Court he now wore, yet the man 
 presented a figure sufficiently imposing as he glit- 
 tered and strutted like a peacock. 
 
 "Trash! Trash and insensate folly!" he cried. 
 "It must not be. It shall not be. Romanus is the 
 heart, the soul of our Northern armies. Crush this 
 trumped-up knavery in the bud and save him, 
 brother." 
 
 He turned to Xiphilin, but the Patriarch refused 
 the light of his countenance. 
 
 "Windy words are vain," he answered. 
 
 "And what were the words of Romanus but a 
 gust of wind in his cups? A jest for friends; no 
 more." 
 
 "Not so the informers say," replied Caesar. "Ro- 
 manus Diogenes is as temperate as he's chaste. He 
 spoke in earnest." 
 
 "Then he will die in earnest," added Michael 
 Psellus; and Bardas exploded with wrath. 
 
 "Oh blessed God! Are these the days for slay- 
 ing generals? We need more — a thousand more— 
 than we can find. This man's a mighty captain. 
 They who fought beside him, as I have, know it; 
 
26 EUDOCIA 
 
 and better still those who have fought against 
 him." 
 
 "Heroism cannot prevail against high treason," 
 declared John Ducas. Then he directed the centu- 
 rion to fetch his prisoner. 
 
 The soldier ventured a word before he departed. 
 
 He was a fair, burly man with a tanned, red face 
 and close-cut sandy hair — a mercenary who had 
 drifted into the employment of the Eastern Empire 
 with thousands of his countrymen. 
 
 He spoke with an accent that amused his listen- 
 ers; but he spoke to the point. 
 
 "Let a plain man address your honours — one who 
 knows the general and his might — one who has seen 
 the Seljouk Turks fly before his shadow. Touch 
 but a hair of his mane in Constantinople and the 
 Varangians " 
 
 Psellus cut him short. 
 
 "Peace, barbarian ! Who is this that threatens? 
 Fetch your prisoner." 
 
 The Varangian looked at him without fear. 
 
 " 'Peace,' you say, great lord? These Patricians, 
 who came along with us, will tell you what peace 
 you are like to enjoy in Thrace, dare you destroy 
 that man !" 
 
 He gave a word of command and disappeared 
 
THE PALACE 27 
 
 with his detachment. They were big, fair, broad- 
 shouldered Northerners like himself. Bardas fol- 
 lowed them, still gesticulating. 
 
 "You silence him," said Zonaras ; "but he tells the 
 truth. Sound statesmanship had let this matter 
 pass, or, for a lesson, deprived the informers of their 
 long ears." 
 
 "Do you teach us our business, Zonaras?" asked 
 the historian. 
 
 "It seems we can," replied the Thracian stoutly. 
 
 "Indeed it was most innocent treason," continued 
 Philagrius. "For consider ; where, after all, is the 
 crime when a man wishes he might wed a widow?" 
 
 "Take heed, Philagrius," replied the Patriarch 
 sternly. "A crime, and worse than a crime, that 
 man commits who would seek a widow sworn to 
 widowhood. Are sacred oaths held so lightly in 
 Thrace?" 
 
 "You'll rob the State of her first soldier and the 
 armies of the leader they best love," answered Phil- 
 agrius, while Michael Psellus exhibited impatience. 
 
 "What a stir and splutter we make about this 
 Governor," he said. "What has he done above his 
 duty? One would think a thousand victories stood 
 to his credit. Where are his statues? Where are 
 his triumphs?" 
 
28 EUDOCIA 
 
 "It is for him to ask a selfish and ungrateful 
 State that question,'' replied Zonaras. "He earned 
 them, and not for gratitude but justice he should 
 have had them." 
 
 But a greater than Romanus now appeared upon 
 the stage where he was called to answer for his acts. 
 
 § 3 
 
 Mcephorus, the fallen Prime Minister, entered 
 with no larger retinue than a couple of old men and 
 a clerk ; while the two Thracians went their way to 
 the balcony and thence descended to the gardens 
 beneath. 
 
 The statesman who had controlled the destinies 
 of the realm under his late master, Constantine, 
 presented a contrast to those that now saluted him. 
 He wore the toga and pursued in spirit the ancient 
 ideals. He was tall, still upright, with thick, short, 
 snowy hair and a large, clean-shaven face. His 
 eyes were grey, his features fine, but heavily mod- 
 elled, his forehead little lined. His chin was still 
 round and firm, and his mouth cast in a genial ex- 
 pression, which echoed the twinkle of his eyes. He 
 might have been a great comedian, save for the 
 brow, broader than any comedian ever carried. 
 
THE PALACE 29 
 
 There was something akin to a mask in this large, 
 fleshy face, and indeed, mnch that belonged to 
 Nicephorus no man had fathomed. A naked arm, 
 that protruded from his white robe, was still firm 
 of muscle and finely moulded to the thick wrist and 
 square hand. He belied the Caesar's criticism, for 
 Nicephorus betrayed will in his face and resolution 
 in his walk. He could act as well as scheme; he 
 could read men, in virtue of wide sympathies, and 
 control them by the art to win. He knew that 
 nothing was to be had for nothing, and carried that 
 experience into politics. The turns and twists of 
 fortune had left him as they found him — indifferent 
 to personal prosperity or private gain. He had 
 striven with a single heart for the Empire ; and now 
 he was not discontent to take his departure, yet 
 mourned the manner of it. A master of statecraft 
 and a man of larger intellect than those who now 
 held the whip hand of him, Nicephorus possessed in 
 addition two qualities alike rare in his day. His 
 outlook upon life was clarified by a sense of humour 
 and purified by "aidos," — that ethical virtue which 
 may be translated "ruth." These endowments of 
 laughter and pity were radical to the man, and had 
 sustained his spirit and often puzzled his peers. 
 He was a childless widower, and certain noble 
 
30 EUDOCIA 
 
 women understood him better and more rightly 
 valued in him qualities that men accounted levity 
 and weakness. He knew the peril in which he now 
 stood, yet felt not deeply concerned to extricate 
 himself, nor guessed what singular chance might 
 give him the opportunity to do so. 
 
 "Still the Koman manner !" sneered Michael Psel- 
 lus under his breath to Xiphilin; then the Csesar 
 spoke, in a voice that embraced both melancholy and 
 respect. 
 
 "Mcephorus, hail !" said he. 
 
 "Mcephorus, hail !" echoed the Patriarch with a 
 different inflection. 
 
 "All hail, Mcephorus!" added Michael Psellus. 
 
 The white-headed man acknowledged their greet- 
 ings. 
 
 "The living salute the dying," he said. "That is 
 to change our gladiators' order." 
 
 Then he challenged directly, yet with a sort of 
 humorous irony that lightened his speech. 
 
 "Tell me, Caesar, since when hath our most lordly 
 king of beasts chosen to hunt with the lesser crea- 
 tures? Could you not pull down this ancient 
 quarry all alone?" 
 
 John Ducas flushed and puffed his cheeks. 
 
THE PALACE 31 
 
 "The State welcomes every helping hand, so that 
 it be guided by a loyal heart," he answered. 
 
 "Why, that is wisely said," admitted the other; 
 then Xiphilin took up the theme. 
 
 "And when such hearts chime in harmony " 
 
 But Mcephorus interrupted. 
 
 "Wisdom in numbers, Patriarch ! Well, that too, 
 is an opinion. This, our modern world, is full of 
 opinions. They take the place of ideas." 
 
 Michael Psellus went deeper and the fallen coun- 
 sellor understood his meaning. They had measured 
 swords for ten years. 
 
 "Our life itself is only an opinion," summed the 
 historian. "If we live, then the world must know 
 that, in our opinion, life is yet worth while." 
 
 "True ; and if we cease to live, we tell the world 
 our life's grown worthless," replied Mcephorus. 
 
 "Only when our own will makes an end of it," 
 said the matter-of-fact Caesar ; whereupon Xiphilin, 
 quick to resent doubtful doctrines, reminded them 
 that life came from God. 
 
 Nicephorus answered in pagan terms. 
 
 "We're bid, no doubt, to lift the load at the 
 Almighty's time; but by His grace it is our privi- 
 lege to drop it when we choose," he answered. 
 
32 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Can you say that and claim to be a Christian?" 
 asked the priest. "You have yet much to learn." 
 
 Psellus brought the matter back to a personal 
 channel. 
 
 "Are you, for one, not weary of your life, 
 Nicephorus?" he asked bluntly, and the other an- 
 swered that he was not. 
 
 "Of old I may have been ; but never less than to- 
 day, Michael," he replied. "Life, when you have 
 learned to live, can be a very good and wholesome 
 thing, my friend. The problem's there. Our Xiphi- 
 lin teaches us how to die ; but flouts the ancient wis- 
 dom, that reminded us the beasts and fishes and 
 fowls of the air can die as well as we. No, no, you 
 must not suppose your difficulties will be banished 
 that way. I'll not willingly quit the cabin till the 
 chimney smokes, for the place is still habitable ; the 
 sun is warm upon my head ; the air is sweet in my 
 lungs; sleeping I am still glad to know I shall 
 waken again." 
 
 Ducas regarded him with curious interest, for he 
 had suspected Nicephorus might choose to make his 
 own exit after the curtain fell on his affairs. 
 
 "You say that, standing where you stand?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "He does not stand, he has fallen, Caesar." 
 
 Psellus spoke and Nicephorus turned to him. 
 
THE PALACE 33 
 
 His voice had lost its banter, but no shadow of 
 temper tinctured it. He spoke earnestly. 
 
 "Aye, Michael — fallen, but not shattered. This 
 brings neither terror nor heart-break in its train for 
 me — nor yet much astonishment, for I guessed from 
 the first that what I have done would reach your 
 ears and the Senate's. But no stroke of fortune 
 from without can hurt our holy of holies. There 
 Xiphilin is with me. One only death a man needs 
 to fear : the death he breeds himself when his hope 
 fails him. Men hawk at power as falcons at the 
 heron; and those who win it and do not abuse it 
 are still the salt of the earth. Remember that, my 
 learned history-writer, if you, in your turn, would 
 offer clean material for future pens." 
 
 "You preach better than you have practised," 
 answered Psellus, "you, who would patch and patch 
 again with peace for ever — a coward peace, won at 
 a coward price." 
 
 "We must be just," answered Nicephorus im- 
 personally, as though he defended another than 
 himself. "When enemies are battering at the gate, 
 Michael, be advised and parley with them — if you 
 lack power to hold the gate." 
 
 "But was it well to kiss the infidel's robe, when 
 Christ's good sword should find his heart?" 
 
 Nicephorus smiled again gently. 
 
34 EUDOCIA 
 
 "The sword of Christ needs sharpening, Patri- 
 arch," he answered. "We lack the means, though 
 not the wit to find the means, to make it flash 
 again. Our cocks shall yet crow a glad new 
 morning and the Empire waken to sleep no more." 
 
 "Yea, wake to live," added the Caesar ; "for now 
 it fears to wake, lest it should wake to die." 
 
 Psellus became personal again. 
 
 "You are lost," he said ; "because you thought to 
 bar the sun from rising, idly wasted our priceless 
 opportunities and dallied with base intrigue, while 
 strangers rent the Empire." 
 
 Nicephorus shook his head. 
 
 "Mend the indictment before Eudocia hears it," 
 he answered. " 'Strangers?' No. Ourselves, not 
 strangers, are crumbling the Empire like rotten 
 bread. These things have happened from within. 
 You stand, as you aver, for the patricians ; but cast 
 back your thoughts, for he who writes history 
 should think historically, too. Who stole the crown 
 from Stratioticus, and left in the lurch our old 
 Sixth Michael for the first Isaac?" 
 
 "That was to the good," interposed Xiphilin. 
 "Patrician power had nearly perished, deserted by 
 a State that our God struck blind for passing sins. 
 
THE PALACE 35 
 
 But now again patrician strength is waxing, to the 
 country's salvation: the Church stands for it." 
 
 "Did Christ?" asked Nicephorus. 
 
 "He willed that Caesar received what rightly was 
 Caesar's to administer and control. Why do you 
 still covertly gibe at the Fountain of Justice, old 
 man — at the Service you yourself may soon be 
 called to enter?" 
 
 Nicephorus bowed his head. 
 
 "Hath Eudocia already willed the cord and cowl 
 for me?" he asked. 
 
 "Her imperial mercy inclines that way," an- 
 swered John Ducas. 
 
 "Only if you desire it, Nicephorus. You can 
 'leave the cabin if the chimney smokes,' " murmured 
 Psellus. 
 
 The elder smiled. 
 
 "A hit, Michael," he said, and then the Caesar 
 challenged him. 
 
 "Hear me — you who were my brother's best- 
 loved servant. Since Fate decrees that the burden 
 must fall into other hands from this day, 
 Nicephorus, I bid you think upon your legacy for 
 those called to the dangers and difficulties ahead. 
 The future's dark — we know it. The Turks are 
 
36 EUDOCIA 
 
 triumphing from Persia to the Hellespont ; Danube 
 pours out her hordes, like gnats from a marsh at 
 evening, and new, strange, savage foes are on the 
 frontiers, sprung out of the womb of darkness." 
 
 The fallen minister turned and sat himself in one 
 of the chairs set for the approaching trial. For a 
 moment he was silent, with his eyes staring into the 
 past ; then he made answer. 
 
 "Willingly I speak, and pray that Caesar will 
 hear as willingly. Let us ascend for a bird's-eye 
 view. 
 
 "We bless the Isaurian princes, who laid the deep 
 foundations of our realm in a manner worthy of all 
 admiration ; and we ban the Basilian dynasty, that 
 went far to undermine the good work of the past. 
 Now we are called to restore again those old founda- 
 tions as best we may, or down the fabric quickly 
 comes. We are confronted with a mountain of toil- 
 some, patient, unseen work — laborious, ungrateful, 
 hidden from the popular eye and understanding. 
 Such achievement wins no breath of praise from 
 this generation. There's none, my friends, who 
 will proclaim your pains — it is no work for dema- 
 gogues; and the Factions — 'Blue* and 'Green' alike 
 — will only spit upon your self-sacrifice. You must 
 go to work like moles in the dark, be content if 
 
THE PALACE 37 
 
 historians unborn applaud your honourable in- 
 dustry and trust your fame to them. 
 
 "You will wiseliest begin with the Court itself. 
 To-day we see courtiers struggling for the states- 
 man's seat — a sign of utmost danger — and eunuchs 
 are squeaking in every lofty place, till the few men 
 remaining stare up in wonder, to know how the 
 creatures climbed there." 
 
 Psellus interrupted. 
 
 "For that cause — to purify a foetid Court — we 
 seek the restoration of our order, Mcephorus. We 
 do not need direction upon the road we already go. 
 Patricians long have stood aloof, to escape the 
 stench, but now our duty to the Empire and the 
 Throne demands that we remind the world of our 
 existence. You, too, were born noble; but it was 
 you — not we — who courted the popular voice." 
 
 "I seek the people?" asked the old man, sur- 
 prised into bland wonder. "That's news indeed!" 
 
 "All are tempted to do so," declared John Ducas ; 
 "and thus the internal danger has grown out of 
 self-seeking among the great. We combine to spoil 
 the multitude and make them supine, feeble as a 
 child bored with too many toys. We win their 
 voice by thinking of the hippodrome, not where the 
 lonely outposts of our kingdom grow weak and 
 
38 ETJDOCIA 
 
 neglected for lack of means. Nicephorus is right : 
 pageants buy our popularity, and the people only 
 demand that money should be spent to make their 
 pleasure, for pleasure is more to them than safety. 
 Shows they understand; but stint that we may 
 build another aqueduct, or break far distant roads 
 for the feet of the legions — what care they then?" 
 
 "And what does Eudocia care?" struck in Psellus 
 boldly. "Not the least charge against you, 
 Nicephorus, is this: that you have always been 
 content to please the woman rather than instruct 
 the Queen in queenship." 
 
 "That should have been your work, my persistent 
 gad-fly," answered Nicephorus. 
 
 "Yet Psellus is in the right," urged Xiphilin, 
 well content to broach the vital subject lying behind 
 the fall of the minister. "The life of the Empress' 
 must lie bound up only in the State — for that alone 
 to have her being and draw her daily breath." 
 
 "You lack human nature, my good Patriarch," 
 answered Nicephorus, again smiling. "There have, 
 I grant, been kings that were something more than 
 men ; but no empress was ever more than a woman. 
 They're made of precious earth; but clay is clay, 
 though moulded into royalty. The hopes and fears 
 and ambitions and dreams — the plagues and pangs 
 
THE PALACE 39 
 
 and petty griefs that prick the least and greatest — 
 these do not fly away because the creature wears a 
 crown." 
 
 "The Empress," answered Xiphilin, "should for- 
 get that she is a woman, even as rare emperors have 
 learned to forget that they were men. I speak in a 
 spiritual sense." 
 
 " 'Forget that she's a woman?' When Eros and 
 Athene forget it — not sooner." 
 
 "Dead, heathen gods should be on no tongue that 
 addresses me, Mcephorus." 
 
 "Why not, Patriarch? Why scorn the gods our 
 great forefathers knelt to? They at least blazed 
 out a way to victory. But now, at sound of foe, we 
 fly to Church and dip our heads deep under her holy 
 walls, like ostriches in the sand. The world that 
 you and I call 'heathen' laughs at us." 
 
 Xiphilin's eyes flashed in anger. 
 
 "For that you'd die at Rome," he said. 
 
 "We are surveying the present situation; there- 
 fore, let us think on all you stand for, Patriarch," 
 continued Mcephorus. "The spirit of Religion, I 
 submit, lacks something, too. Correct me if I err, 
 when I assert that it has sunk to show and cere- 
 monial, unconsciously influenced by those for whom 
 it caters, as we all are. We nurse the martyr's 
 
40 EUDOCIA 
 
 bones in our bosoms until they turn our hearts 
 cold ; and our prayers are purgative, not tonic ; they 
 emasculate, but do not fortify. Our festivals in- 
 crease to folly and our time is spent in worshipping 
 dead saints, rather than serving a live monarch." 
 
 "There's truth in that," declared the Caesar ; "but 
 our pretentious religion has vast compensations. 
 Remember the suppliants who daily fly to our 
 Christian arms; consider how Armenia, Scythia, 
 send to us their mightiest. Nor do they come 
 empty-handed for support. The fugitive wealth of 
 Alexandria, Tyre, Sidon, fills the Golden Horn, 
 knowing our Christian banners spell security as 
 well as sanctity." 
 
 "Thus the Church is doing what the State should 
 do — and cannot," summed the Patriarch. 
 
 "Has Mother Church then gone into trade?" 
 asked Nicephorus mildly. "Do you, unashamed, 
 seek the sovereign power and embrace the sover- 
 eign's commerce?" 
 
 "Only that ruler will be served whose power is 
 sovereign," answered Psellus, and Nicephorus, 
 alive to the implication, rose from his chair and 
 turned upon him. 
 
 "In this land," he said, "the measure of our 
 reigning prince has ever been the measure of public 
 
THE PALACE 41 
 
 happiness. Our freedom is a reflection of the mon- 
 arch's freedom, who is now a woman and a rare 
 one. Were she free, the nation would know a large 
 measure of content; but free she is not, and you 
 priests and counsellors, who would cringe to a man, 
 pardon his guilt and applaud his whims, conspire 
 to bully this lonely woman in the purple. You little 
 know her virtues, or her promise. She is endowed 
 with all that best becomes a mortal throne — all save 
 a bodyguard of faithful spirits to guide her steps." 
 
 "Her soul is royal if ever soul was royal," an- 
 swered John Ducas ; "but her mind inclines to paths 
 of peace and her heart knows its own emptiness. 
 The throne can never satisfy her inward genius." 
 
 "Enough! Enough!" answered Mcephorus. "I 
 know all that you would say — all that Church and 
 State have taught you, Caesar. So her light is to 
 be quenched for ever, and our Eastern throne loses 
 a ruler, who, had she been served as she deserved, 
 had written many a nobler page in time than will 
 John Ducas. Why look astonished, friends? Am 
 I not right? Noble Caesar here will soon doff his 
 green buskins for the red, wear a shut diadem for 
 his open crown, and dip an imperial pen in purple 
 ink." 
 
 "Who heeds a meaner colour?" asked Psellus. 
 
42 EUDOCIA 
 
 "And you," continued Nicephorus, "you take my 
 empty place, Michael. Does Caesar grasp the 
 sceptre willingly? Has he scanned the doubtful 
 countenance of duty and remembered the lesser 
 passions prone to masquerade in that name? Has 
 he even condescended to think upon the peril? 
 Still she's a well loved queen. Is it highest wisdom 
 to reckon thus without her?" 
 
 He was not answered, for the blare of loud trum- 
 pets from within the palace ended their conversa- 
 tion and the Court approached. 
 
 § 4 
 
 The silver doors behind the throne were opened, 
 and at the same moment there entered from the 
 gardens, Bardas with Zonaras, Philagrius, a full 
 guard of the Varangian troops and Romanus 
 Diogenes. 
 
 "The other villain!" said Mcephorus. "Hail, 
 soldier !" 
 
 Romanus saluted the Caesar, did reverence to 
 Xiphilin and turned to the statesman. The Gover- 
 nor of Thrace was at that time in the fulness of his 
 strength and fame. He possessed the sort of beauty 
 Greece had worshipped and made immortal in the 
 
THE PALACE 43 
 
 Golden Age. Taller than he appeared, by reason of 
 his exact proportions, he stood somewhat above six 
 feet high. He was dark, with curly hair and a face 
 masculine and stern, yet so perfect in every feature 
 that power mated beauty and neither lessened the 
 other. He lacked, however, the passionless serenity 
 of the old ideal. He walked with the free stride of 
 unhindered limbs that had seldom known the gar- 
 ments of state, and though he gazed upon the judg- 
 ment seat without fear, he was anxious and sorely 
 troubled. Tremendous disaster had fallen upon 
 him, and the issue depended upon the slender 
 thread of the royal will. He believed that death 
 awaited him, and his highest hope was only that a 
 kindly fate might permit him to choose death where 
 he best desired to meet it. 
 
 "You, too, arraigned?" he asked. "Our Con- 
 stantine for ever leaned upon your shoulder, 
 Nicephorus." 
 
 "He's dead," answered the old man; then two 
 trumpeters entered the silver doors, stood one on 
 either side, lifted their tubes and blew. To the 
 clarion there came first minor officials bedizened in 
 silk and gold, while senators and courtiers to the 
 number of a hundred followed. Magnificent was 
 the pomp, stupendous the wealth and decoration, 
 
U EUDOCIA 
 
 exhausting the opulence of precious metals, rare 
 gems and primary colours displayed by that gather- 
 ing; for no such aulic splendour as lighted the 
 Throne of the East has been recorded in the history 
 of mankind. 
 
 Many women followed the senators, and while 
 great officers took the seats prepared for them, the 
 women grouped upon the right hand of the throne. 
 There, among others, stood Irene Ducas, aunt of 
 the Empress ; Theodora, her first favourite and tire- 
 woman ; Maria, descended from a vanished dynasty ; 
 Euphrosyne and Gregoria, young girls of the family 
 of Mcephorus. Irene was a widow of a free tongue 
 — grey-haired, peppery — who adored Eudocia with 
 passionate fervour; Theodora — a child companion 
 of Eudocia — had been translated from obscurity 
 when Constantine took his young bride. She loved 
 her royal playmate dearly, but with divided devo- 
 tion now, for Theodora was betrothed to Bardas, 
 and knew that the Empress did not approve the 
 match. 
 
 A single herald followed the main assemblage 
 and stood, like a pillar of burnished gold, between 
 the silver doors. In a voice loud and sonorous he 
 cried: 
 
THE PALACE 45 
 
 "Eudocia Augusta ! Eudocia Augusta ! Eudocia 
 Augusta !" 
 
 Then he moved aside, the trumpets screamed 
 again and unseen music thundered. 
 
 The Empress entered alone. Other queens had 
 been almost hidden by the amazing robes and re- 
 galia of the monarch. They had peeped like dolls 
 from these gorgeous habiliments and trembled 
 beneath their weight. Not so the widow of Con- 
 stantine. She was tall and strong, and supported 
 her glittering, gem-encrusted garments as easily as 
 she held the great orb and sceptre in either hand. 
 Her face was rich in its complexion and her lovely 
 neck supported the huge diadem without being bent 
 by it. The erection towering above her brow imi- 
 tated the fashion of the Persian kings. Its silken 
 pyramid was covered with precious stones and 
 blazed as though on fire. The crown was formed 
 by a golden and jewelled circlet from which rose 
 arches of gold to their intersection, where stood 
 a globe and cross; while the cheek pieces fell in 
 lappets heavy with great pearls. 
 
 But the woman was not hidden under her fine 
 feathers. She owned no classic beauty, yet her 
 dark eyes, straight eyebrows and large finely- 
 
46 EUDOCIA 
 
 turned mouth were of that order that makes decora- 
 tion vain and dwarfs physical perfection by the 
 greater distinction of character. The power to feel 
 and the brain to think alike appeared in her fea- 
 tures — impassive now under the mask of state they 
 wore. She was proud and moved proudly. She 
 swept with leisured stateliness to her throne and 
 spoke to Irene as she did so. The old woman 
 loosened a bracelet on the left wrist of the Empress. 
 
 A troop of the household guard came after her in 
 shining armour, and the silver doors were shut 
 again. Adoration of the Monarch followed — an 
 absolute and servile obeisance that sent the assem- 
 bly grovelling upon the marble floors, so that the 
 Court suddenly resembled a gigantic flower-bed 
 flung under the radiance poured from the dome 
 above. As the trumpets again sounded, every man 
 from the greatest to the least sank prostrate, while 
 the women fell upon their knees. Eudocia and the 
 soldiers alone stood, and she looked without emo- 
 tion over the recumbent and abject multitude. 
 Then, as she sat upon her throne, Theodora ordered 
 her robe, the trumpets brayed for the last time, the 
 hidden music ceased and the people rose to their 
 feet. 
 
 There followed a stir and movement, while a 
 
THE PALACE 47 
 
 cumbrous ritual was observed to the last small de- 
 tail and a thousand petty trifles accomplished. 
 During these moments the palace troops, in their 
 burnished brass and steel, gazed with curiosity at 
 the Varangians, toil-worn from their march, but 
 taller by a span than themselves. Then they cen- 
 tred their admiration upon the famous figure of 
 Romanus Diogenes. 
 
 All was fulfilled at last and a great silence fol- 
 lowed. Thereupon the Caesar walked out into the 
 open place before the throne. To his right were 
 grouped the Patriarch under his golden symbol, 
 Michael Psellus and Mcephorus; upon the left 
 stood the mercenaries and their centurion with 
 Zonaras, Philagrius, and the Governor of Thrace. 
 Bardas had taken the Protostrator's station. 
 
 "Welcome, my brother," said Eudocia, in a voice 
 of soprano note, mellow and clear. 
 
 "Hail, Majesty," replied John Ducas. "Now, 
 for our grief, two malefactors are come to know 
 your will. And first be pleased to hear your minis- 
 ter, Nicephorus. Then must you try this Cappa- 
 docian, your Governor of Thrace, Romanus Di- 
 ogenes, who in recent years hath done great service, 
 but now falls under high treason proved against 
 him." 
 
48 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Proved?" she asked. Her eyes had rested for a 
 moment on the soldier, while a light of memory that 
 none saw flashed for a moment in them and went 
 out. 
 
 "The witnesses that heard him speak are pres- 
 ent," answered Caesar. 
 
 Mcephorus spoke. 
 
 "Think, Majesty, and think again before from 
 these great shoulders, you fling down the valiant 
 head that crowns them," he said in his gentle tones ; 
 while with lowered voice Eudocia answered. 
 
 "Alas, Mcephorus, your good word no longer 
 betters the fame of any man." 
 
 "Be it so ; but remember that the armies from the 
 North, now come to Constantinople with this gen- 
 eral, hold him next to yourself and your son in 
 their stormy bosoms." 
 
 "It is the truth, Majesty," spoke out resolute 
 Zonaras in his harsh fashion. "Komanus is their 
 God." 
 
 The Empress gazed upon him and her dark eye- 
 brows seemed to join for a moment. 
 
 "A man their God?" she asked. "Barbarians we 
 knew they were — these great, tawny men; but are 
 they turned heathen too? It is time you loosed 
 your monks upon them, Patriarch." 
 
THE PALACE 49 
 
 None replied and she spoke again. 
 
 "Mcephorus, stand you here. Let Michael 
 Psellus speak." 
 
 The white-robed minister and the historian 
 walked out before the throne and John Ducas 
 joined Xiphilin. 
 
 Psellus was no great orator, but the magnitude 
 of his matter filled his mouth to-day; though his 
 manner had ever been bookish and artificial. 
 
 "The charge we bring against your first minister 
 is this, Majesty. That over-long he has ignored 
 the Empire's need and dark fortune. His policy is 
 ever to delay action by evasive shift, and suck from 
 every new problem a way to burk another. Each 
 fresh disaster serves him as an excuse to ignore the 
 last, and he thinks not synthetically but in pieces. 
 He confounds himself, and his thoughts do not come 
 together. There is no continuity of design, but a 
 policy of expedients hatched from day to day and 
 hour to hour. He clings to worn-out usage, and 
 shrinks in fear from each new-born ill, because the 
 old medicine will not serve and the new surgery is 
 beyond his strength to apply. The only good before 
 his fading eyes is present peace — peace at all cost 
 of honour — peace at the price of death. But death 
 should be the price of victory, and peace, before 
 
50 EUDOCIA 
 
 victory comes, is one more nail driven into the coffin 
 of the Empire. Leave the power longer with him, 
 and soon, upon the horns of the Crescent tossed and 
 gored, we must fall, as one a bull has caught ; for 
 he'll delay till Alp Arslan is thundering at the 
 Golden Gate ; and even now, so fatally hath he in- 
 trigued with our first enemy, that genius shall 
 scarce avail us to salve this most deadly wound. 
 'Too late' will be our cry too soon, if this man 
 holds longer his false and feeble way. And since 
 the definite word must be spoken, we blame him 
 now for treating privily among our foes and send- 
 ing to Alp Arslan's self messengers to stave off the 
 infidel under a secret treaty. Prove that, as we 
 can, and it needs neither voice of mine, nor an- 
 other's, to show that Mcephorus is all that I charge 
 against him and deserves a fate as dark as any trai- 
 tor ever won." 
 
 "Let the Patriarch speak," said Eudocia, who 
 had listened to Psellus without revealing her 
 thoughts. 
 
 Then Xiphilin approached the steps of the 
 throne. His noble voice rang to the roof with per- 
 fect rhythm and modulation; yet for all the art 
 of the priest and his measured oratory, enthusiasm 
 he never inspired. His light was bright, his words 
 
THE PALACE 51 
 
 perfectly chosen at all times ; but there lacked heat 
 from them, since none who in secret sets self first, 
 is gifted with the fire that wakens answering fire. 
 Art cannot emulate the conviction that a selfless 
 honesty inspires. 
 
 "Thus, Majesty, I declare," began Xiphilin. 
 "The Spirit of the Church is charity, and in the 
 name of our Master, I would extenuate this awful 
 charge from wickedness to human weakness. Let 
 the past colour justice with the gentle ray of mercy, 
 Eudocia Augusta. Mcephorus has moved far down 
 the vale of years and his judgment totters. Within 
 this hour he spoke jestingly of holy things and, 
 even to me, could name the names of dead deities. 
 Therefore I perceived that Almighty God had al- 
 ready thrust a finger into your minister's subtle 
 brain and broken up the gear. A great machine, 
 that falls from its perfection, may make deadly 
 havoc for those who would still trust it ; but a mind 
 outworn is not an engine we can mend again. The 
 time has therefore come when Mcephorus should 
 cease his activities, ere ills are done beyond our 
 sounder wits to cure. He must depart, and the 
 manner of his going lies in your decision. I speak 
 not to palliate his crime, save in the spirit for which 
 I stand; for treason such as his, unless my words 
 
52 EUDOCIA 
 
 have weight, can only be paid with the supreme 
 penalty of death." 
 
 Eudocia raised her hand that held the sceptre 
 and Xiphilin ceased. 
 
 "Nicephorus," she said. 
 
 The Patriarch fell back and Nicephorus spoke, 
 in no set phrase, but languidly, as though the mat- 
 ter were of little account. 
 
 "Your Empire, Majesty, is to-day a lion that 
 hath slain a stag, but cannot hold his game against 
 the other beasts that wait upon his hunting." 
 
 Eudocia accepted the challenge. 
 
 "Nay, our simile is worthier and has been praised 
 by yourself ere now," she answered. "Our Empire 
 is the link between the Eastern and the Western 
 humanity — a jewel, that lies between the breasts of 
 the great world, to hold the robe that clothes them." 
 
 "A Christian fortress rather," interposed the 
 Patriarch. "Call it the barrier against Islam, lifted 
 to cry halt to unfaith and raise the blessed Cross 
 as high above the Crescent, as a steadfast star above 
 the young moon." 
 
 "And more than that," declared Eudocia, bend- 
 ing forward. "We'll conquer first the huge body 
 of all unfaith, then lead the infidel to the eternal 
 fold." 
 
THE PALACE 53 
 
 "Meantime the star sinks and the young moon 
 grows," declared Mcephorus. "This, indeed, is no 
 day for metaphors. Psellus has told you that I 
 am prone to wait upon the event, but that is false. 
 My purpose is ever to anticipate, because I know 
 that God on high is mostly minded to help the 
 strongest, and in His wisdom permits might the 
 foremost voice in all human affairs. But while the 
 lion's strength is over-clouded, as now it is, he must 
 call to him the serpent, that her tongue may serve 
 to charm the enemy and arrest his hand until the 
 lion has breathed again. Then shall you find that 
 God helps the wisest also. We are sick, Majesty, 
 and neither East nor West spares a physician for 
 us, since neither cares how soon we perish." 
 
 "Is not that treason?" asked Eudocia, but with 
 interest rather than anger. 
 
 "Only biting truth," answered the old man. 
 "Not Rome would own us Romans; not Greece 
 would claim us Greeks. We are become no more 
 than the aliens of the East, who have renounced 
 not alone the garb and quality, but the very speech 
 and spirit whence we sprang." 
 
 The man of letters spoke fiercely. 
 
 "Leave Latin to the Latins," he said, " to 
 
 the Latins and the Franks, for they are one. The 
 
54 EUDOCIA 
 
 golden tongue of Greece is sweeter far and apter 
 for our philosophy." 
 
 Nicephorus smiled and followed the issue. 
 
 "And where homes philosophy on the Bosporus, 
 Michael?" he inquired. "What tongue makes great 
 a feeble thought? That giant's trumpet needs a 
 man well-ribbed and stout of lungs to wake its deep- 
 toned music. It was forged of primal thunder and 
 the murmur of the wide-wayed sea; it was built 
 to hold the voice of the myriad of men, the mourn- 
 ing and the triumph of hosts, the crash of war, the 
 song of victory, the lamentation of the fallen. And 
 it has uttered for all time the highest wisdom, the 
 noblest poetry that this earth ever heard since 
 chaos. And now that organ, fit for the song of the 
 stars — what present purpose does it serve? Our 
 poetasters string their tinkling epigrams upon it 
 and their doubtful jests and city verses — as though 
 one tamed an elephant to dance, for fools to laugh 
 at. Greek became Plato's thought, not your his- 
 tory, Michael. It was that master's high ideal to 
 dream philosopher and statesman in one. But 
 birds of such feather have been rare, and much I 
 doubt that you will ever spread a wing to fly with 
 them." 
 
THE PALACE 55 
 
 Laughter followed, for culture still hid at Court. 
 Eudocia smiled that this rare ray should thus have 
 pierced the solemnity of the moment; and she 
 smiled the more to see Michael Psellus scowl. But 
 she forbade his answer and spoke what was in her 
 mind. 
 
 In leisurely and desultory fashion were even the 
 great Courts held, and even such a vital matter as 
 the present might remain a long while retired be- 
 fore it was attained. 
 
 "Two Empires we would rule," she said. "The 
 Empire of the East, and that mightier, boundless 
 realm which men have called the Empire of the 
 Mind. For the one we wield our adamant, Roman 
 justice; for the other, the everlasting wisdom of 
 Greece." 
 
 The Patriarch took a higher view. 
 
 "Both must lie vassal and slave to what's above 
 them both, Majesty," said he. "The earth we rule 
 and that uncertain land where uncertain reason 
 reigns — these sink to nothingness and bend sup- 
 pliant heads before the Lamp of Revelation burn- 
 ing above the Throne of the Soul's Empire." 
 
 Then a strange voice, fearless and deep, fell upon 
 their ears. A man — Romanus Diogenes — addressed 
 
56 EUDOCIA 
 
 Eudocia and every eye was bent upon him. He 
 spoke as though the mountain winds he breathed 
 still echoed within his great breast. 
 
 "Majesty," he said, "I pray you listen to a 
 tongue that must soon be stilled, and give heed to 
 reality, if indeed reality be possible within the 
 walls of a palace. I choke in this drizzle of words, 
 and I tell you that until man is something more 
 than man, his sword remains the only arbiter. We 
 buy the sword — we, who should possess it as a part 
 of our inheritance. The spirit that should enter 
 every new-born child with its first breath is dead, 
 and our countless gold pours out to the Sclav, the 
 Bulgar and any men who still know how to do 
 man's work. Not love and honour guard the Em- 
 pire, but minted metal and piled stones. Even the 
 ships that protect our trade are not our own; our 
 admirals live in palaces ashore and hirelings pull 
 our triremes and fight the pirates. We wear silk 
 rather than steel; we have felt neither Scythian 
 arrow, nor Arabian spear. 'A cold hand and a 
 talkative voice' — that is the name we have achieved 
 among the nations, and our religion — what does 
 that teach us? To conquer? No. To prosper? 
 No. To fortify our sublime inheritance and win 
 
THE PALACE 57 
 
 back glory by the way of discipline? No. What, 
 then — to whine and yield? Yes. 
 
 "With gelded temper we trust to our knees, 
 rather than our arms, hoping that the God of Bat- 
 tles will help men for ever on their marrowbones. 
 But what deity draws his bow for such a cowardice 
 of curs as run your streets? Mesopotamia and 
 Cilicia swarm with Seljouk Turks; Syria they de- 
 vour like locusts; in Csesaria our fellow country- 
 men are slain as sheep. St. Basil's sacred fane 
 has been plundered of that wilderness of wealth a 
 thousand votaries brought; and not the prayers of 
 priests nor the tears of nuns could save a groat. 
 For our honour, then, gird up your loins, and wake 
 the nation from its dreams. Tell your people where 
 they stand, and let them feel for once the raw air 
 of truth upon their tender skins." 
 
 Eudocia regarded Romanus intently during this 
 impetuous speech. She followed every fiery word 
 and flushed when he poured scorn upon her 
 subjects. 
 
 "Yet war must be a losing war and bring us grief 
 that well may be escaped," said Nicephorus, and 
 the soldier admitted it. 
 
 "To-day that's true; but we may still keep the 
 
58 EUDOCIA 
 
 field and threaten greater than we can perform," 
 he answered. "Parthian tactics should be practised 
 while, unseen, we lick our wounds and build our 
 broken legions. I indict your past neglects, Con- 
 stantinople. The armies are starved in Thrace and 
 on the frontiers, far and near." 
 
 "Nay, nay, Romanus Diogenes. You're here for 
 judgment, not to judge," protested the Caesar. 
 "Let us listen again to Mcephorus." 
 
 "I see the State like a dying camp-fire in a savage 
 field," answered the old man. "A fire whose flames 
 serve awhile to show the eyes ringed round of 
 watchful, fatal things that only wait to spring. 
 Nor shall the dawn scatter them, for they are not 
 the foes that Diogenes Romanus would destroy; 
 they lurk within our walls; they harbour here." 
 
 Some emotion marked this statement. Senato- 
 rial heads bent together; suspicion and distrust 
 exchanged glances. Angry eyes were flashed upon 
 the fallen statesman. 
 
 "See them stir!" he continued. "Like beetles 
 when we lift the stone that hides their secret bur- 
 rows. They, who would tear from the brow of 
 Majesty the Eastern crown, are even those who 
 fling themselves for her to walk upon." 
 
 An undertone of angry voices hummed through 
 the multitude. Those that doubted, were tempted 
 
THE PALACE 59 
 
 to believe the old man; they who knew that 
 Nicephorus spoke the truth, denied it noisily. 
 
 "This may be as you declare," answered the 
 Empress. "All thrones are built on trust, and we 
 who sit upon them are called to trust — not always 
 willingly. At least we trusted you. Oh, Nice- 
 phorus, in this hour that's darkling over your dis- 
 honoured head, we ask you but one question, which 
 sums all that men have testified against you. And 
 we pray to God that you can say 'no' in answer to 
 it. Were you in secret treaty with Alp Arslan 
 before he withdrew his armies?" 
 
 "I was," answered the statesman; "and for that 
 reason he did withdraw." 
 
 "You're judged; you're judged! cried Psellus, 
 and others echoed him. But the eyes of Nicephorus 
 were on Eudocia alone. He preserved his measured 
 speech and imparted to it no note of entreaty or 
 protest. 
 
 "Our mightiest foe had trodden these halls, our 
 city conduits had run blood, Majesty, but for the 
 statecraft that held him off with one hand and 
 with the other incited his enemies to proceed 
 against him in his absence. Diplomacy remains 
 our only hope, while aggressive war is impossible." 
 
 Eudocia shook her head. 
 
 "The Emperor Constantine loved you and trusted 
 
60 EUDOCIA 
 
 you. Well that he did not live to learn this great 
 betrayal," she answered. Then she addressed the 
 Caesar. 
 
 "Let him be taken to Marmora to await our 
 pleasure," she said. 
 
 Mcephorus did obeisance ; then he rose and gave 
 himself to a guard of the household troops who 
 now surrounded him. 
 
 "Farewell, Majesty. May Heaven's all watching 
 eye maintain your throne, and you, and the son of 
 Constantine. I shall leave this life as indifferently 
 as I entered it, if that should be your royal pur- 
 pose; and yet I mourn to think how the courts of 
 Hades must shiver at my shadow, and the shade 
 of the dead Emperor grow pale at news of the 
 sword I leave hanging above your ever glorious 
 head." 
 
 "Farewell," answered Eudocia with a deep sigh. 
 
 Nicephorus turned to John Ducas. 
 
 "Look to the Kuler," he said gently. "Seek 
 strength from God, and set not your trust on His 
 vicegerent here, or on our historian. They who 
 would sap a throne may, like Samson, bring down 
 the pillars upon themselves." 
 
 He moved away, and his great white head van- 
 ished among the plumed helmets of the soldiers. 
 
THE PALACE 61 
 
 In the silence there was a sob and the two girls, 
 Gregoria and Euphrosyne, of the household of the 
 fallen man, wept in each other's arms. Eudocia 
 bent to them; while elsewhere Xiphilin, the Caesar 
 and Michael Psellus spoke aside together. 
 
 In a few moments the Empress lifted her voice 
 again. 
 
 "The charges against Romanus Diogenes, onr 
 Governor of Thrace," she said. 
 
 Thereupon Romanus stood out before the throne 
 and Zonaras and Philagrius accompanied him. The 
 Caesar spoke. 
 
 "Here, Majesty, are Patricians, loyal Thracians," 
 he answered, naming the witnesses. "They have 
 come to bear their testimony of the things they 
 heard." 
 
 The travellers did obeisance and Zonaras opened 
 the matter. 
 
 "Upon compulsion, Majesty, we stand before 
 you; for we, who were this man's guests, would 
 rather suffer great ills than do him one." 
 
 "Others, not ourselves, reported him," explained 
 Philagrius. 
 
 "And would you have concealed high treason?" 
 asked Eudocia, regarding their care-worn coun- 
 tenances. 
 
62 EUDOCIA 
 
 "In truth we would have forgotten his ill-con- 
 sidered speech." 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 "For justice, Majesty," replied Philagrius. 
 "Words as much depend upon the ear that hears as 
 the tongue that utters ; the spirit alone quickeneth, 
 and there was no treason in the spirit of Romanus. 
 Diogenes is one not used to weigh the intricate 
 pattern of woven words; and this blunt wish has 
 been transformed to treason on the tongue of his 
 foes." 
 
 "What spake he?" she asked. 
 
 Philagrius turned to his companion, who pro- 
 ceeded : 
 
 "We had poured libations to his old master, the 
 late Emperor Constantine — a pagan rite in truth, 
 yet we held it meet to do honour to the dead. And 
 then, Majesty, Romanus spoke of Eudocia Augusta 
 and said, with soldierly forthrightness, that she 
 was exceeding fair and sadly undefended, as every 
 widowed empress must be. He, having seen you, 
 swore that to do so meant everlasting loyalty and 
 worship — pity, too, now that you reigned alone. 
 'Oh would to God, my friends/ said he, 'that I 
 might wed the Empress of the East and for a 
 marriage gift, her armies recreate invincible, all 
 
THE PALACE 63 
 
 conquering as of yore !' So, with foolish rhetoric, 
 the general spoke within the circle of those he 
 trusted." 
 
 "A double treason," commented Michael Psellus. 
 
 "And what more did he say?" asked Eudocia. 
 
 "No more," answered Zonaras. "We warned him 
 instantly that such a speech was dangerous as a 
 jest, and, if made in sincerity, the more dangerous 
 still. Too late he saw that he had spoken treason, 
 though only with his lips. Base jealousy alone has 
 imputed disloyalty to him." 
 
 "He prayed us forget his folly," added Philag- 
 rius. "But who that is loved, as Komanus is 
 loved, escapes an enemy? Secret foes have stabbed 
 him, Majesty, Pll swear to that." 
 
 Eudocia spoke to the culprit. 
 
 "When did you see us, Romanus?" she asked. 
 
 "Once only, Majesty," he answered, "while the 
 late Emperor lived. Affairs of a campaign sum- 
 moned me to Court and I beheld you by my master's 
 side." 
 
 She considered this and recollected the occasion. 
 
 "We wondered when first our eyes had fallen 
 upon you," she replied. "Now we remember. Can 
 you deny what has been said against you?" 
 
 "Not one word," answered Romanus calmly, 
 
64 EUDOCIA 
 
 "nor would if I could. I am noble : no Cappadocian 
 family exceeds my own in ancient dignities and 
 honour, and many of the mightiest in Asia Minor 
 are linked with me. So much for that, Majesty; 
 and for the rest I worship and adore you. I would 
 spend ten thousand lives for you, and in this dark 
 hour I ask you, not to spare me, or pardon my 
 crime, but, of your royal mercy, to let me choose 
 my end. Suffer me to die before your foes. I have 
 at least deserved to be torn by lions in the field, 
 rather than eaten alive by city rats." 
 
 "Impiously you spoke," she said. Her face had 
 flushed a little and her 'eyes were bent upon the 
 Governor, indifferent to the many eyes upon her 
 own. 
 
 "My words rang so," he confessed. "But I did 
 not perceive the awful force of them, Majesty, be- 
 cause my memory still saw you a moon beside the 
 sun of the Emperor. Fool that I was and sluggish 
 of imagination, I still mirrored you in my thoughts 
 a lesser light reflected from Constantine's sun. My 
 muddy senses failed to remember you were the risen 
 orb itself, reigning and burning in the blue of 
 heaven — sole source of light for all your servants." 
 
 "You pitied us," she answered. "You dared." 
 
 "Aye," he said. "I dared that, when I looked 
 
THE PALACE 65 
 
 back and minded how I had seen you, so ineffable — 
 a budding flower of infinite and holy beauty — 
 thrown into the gardens of withered age and sun- 
 dered from all youth. For youth cleaves to youth, 
 Majesty ; youth seeks its natural joy and hope and 
 highest wisdom, too, from youth. Youth burns to 
 youth, as flame leaps up to welcome brother flame, 
 so only justifying itself. How shall the grey and 
 age-worn ministers of dead Kings speak to the 
 heiress of our present cares and future hopes? Why 
 must young Time and all that he promises be 
 chilled and manacled by men who suck their worm- 
 eaten caution and sagacity from a dead past? 
 
 "I saw you encircled with heads all bald, or 
 shaking — forgive a soldier. I saw a Court that 
 reeked with monks and eunuchs, and my thought 
 rebelled against such martyrdom ; my blood boiled 
 — boiled over, God forgive me — so that I cried to 
 myself how glorious a fate to wed the Queen, then, 
 like a hurricane, loose cathartic lightnings to 
 scorch and cleanse, search out each foul nook and 
 cranny and slay the seeds of vice and cowardice 
 and treachery fostered within them, for crops of 
 pestilence to come. I longed that a clean soldier, 
 like a desert wind, should slay the noisome, slimy 
 things I saw, stand at Eudocia's side and do man's 
 
66 EUDOCIA 
 
 work for her ! Even so I dreamed and, in a waking 
 dream, spoke it again." 
 
 Eudocia raised her hand, to still a dozen furious 
 voices that simultaneously shouted for death upon 
 the speaker. 
 
 "He who would love us stands a branded traitor 
 to Michael, son of Constantine," she replied to 
 Romanus. 
 
 "Not so, Majesty," answered he. "The son of 
 Constantine has nothing to fear from one his father 
 used as the blessed dead used me. He gave me 
 trust, advancement, honour, reward. If there be 
 a rival on this earth for Prince Michael, I am 
 that man's first enemy." 
 
 The Caesar spoke while still Eudocia gazed with 
 parted lips at Diogenes. 
 
 "Return we to your crime, Governor of Thrace. 
 Of your lunatic words we have heard enough. The 
 evil that you did was worse — far worse than any 
 thought against a coming King. You linked your 
 name in men's ears with that of your Empress, 
 knowing her to be sworn to widowhood. Is death 
 too mild reward for that?" 
 
 The Varangians moved uneasily and a low sound, 
 like a distant wave, rose from among them. Their 
 centurion silenced the murmur. 
 
THE PALACE 67 
 
 "Have you not heard — you that seem half a mad- 
 man and half still a child — have you not heard that 
 our imperial oath before the Almighty is taken to 
 wed no more?" 
 
 Eudocia spoke and Romanus made prompt reply. 
 
 "If that were all, Majesty!" 
 
 Then he turned to the Patriarch, who had al- 
 ready torn the soldier to pieces with his eyes and 
 was fretting to let fall his thunder. 
 
 "What wit of man can bind, wit of man can loose 
 again," he said scornfully. "Is Xiphilin not usurer 
 of the Holy Ghost and tax-gatherer to the Trinity? 
 Trust him to find a way had Eudocia the will !" 
 
 The priests and people looked to the blazing 
 dome above them, and many honestly expected the 
 bolt of an outraged deity. The Patriarch cried 
 aloud and voiced them nearly all. 
 
 "Profane wretch, would you call Heaven's fire 
 upon your accursed and blasphemous head?" he 
 asked, trembling with passion. 
 
 But Eudocia stilled him. 
 
 "Let Romanus Diogenes speak on," she said. 
 
 "I dreamed the dream, Divine One, and men who 
 dream such dreams must perish for them," an- 
 swered the general. "But dream not you — dream 
 not that your oath cannot be absolved. Shall crafty 
 
68 EUDOCIA 
 
 speeches, whispered in the ear of a dying king, bolt 
 and bar the door of life against all that life has 
 to give of what is best and most sacred for any 
 woman?" 
 
 "We have indeed heard enough!" cried John 
 Ducas. "I implore Majesty to silence him. Shall 
 the demented wretch preach passion of earth to 
 your widowed ears?" 
 
 "Do you not tremble, Romanus?" asked 
 Eudocia. 
 
 "I know not how to tremble," he answered. "In 
 death's shadow now I stand, but never have I feared 
 that stroke and never could. Rightly I am ac- 
 cused of crime, for to love you as a woman was a 
 crime; but to adore my Empress, to desire that I 
 might rebuild your broken armies and breed within 
 your subjects' hearts a sense of shame and awaken- 
 ing manhood — that was no crime. For now the 
 Nation gasps and totters like a poisoned man. Foul 
 marasmus creeps through all its fibres, and it has 
 fallen from every great tradition. At the roar of 
 battle we tremble; and in time of peace we still 
 tremble, when the 'Greens' howl at the 'Blues' over 
 their petty politics. We're only brave when we're 
 drunk; and wine, not honour, makes us threaten 
 valiant deeds sobriety shrinks from. 
 
THE PALACE 69 
 
 "Had I lived, I had striven to change that, as I 
 have changed it in Thrace. But take heed, Majesty 
 — you who are called henceforth to guide and 
 guard this realm. Build up to their ancient 
 strength your armies; and remember this, that 
 stern self-denial and the Spartan road are not for 
 soldiers alone. And, last, I pray for the young and 
 blessed Eudocia Augusta that her youth and glory 
 shall not wither in loneliness, for no woman's heart 
 can brook loneliness — not even hers." 
 
 "Swords strike! Shut his accursed mouth for 
 ever!" cried Michael Psellus. 
 
 "By all the Seven Synods destroy him!" urged 
 the Patriarch approaching the throne. 
 
 The frantic men broke etiquette, and Eudocia 
 frowned. 
 
 "Let there be silence," she said. Then she turned 
 to Diogenes, who awaited his guard and dismissal. 
 Curiously she looked upon him and, with imperial 
 indifference to the press around her, spoke: 
 
 "Come to us, Romanus. Approach us, even to 
 this step. We would see if you can bear yourself 
 as bravely as you speak." 
 
 He obeyed, and slowly ascended the steps of the 
 throne until he stood eye to eye with the monarch. 
 For a few moments he looked steadfastly upon her 
 
70 EUDOCIA 
 
 face and neither her gaze nor his own faltered 
 under the ordeal. That singular trial lasted not 
 long; then the soldier covered his eyes with his 
 hand, as though a light hurt them ; he knelt, kissed 
 the hem of the imperial robe and rose to his feet 
 again. Meanwhile the woman showed no trace of 
 any emotion and only herself heard her heart's 
 beating. She spoke, and a level tone for the mo- 
 ment being impossible, against the inward flutter, 
 threw scorn into her voice. 
 
 "You, too, can feel fear, Romanus!" 
 
 He answered for her ear alone. 
 
 "That's not its name. Had I not kissed your 
 robe, I had kissed you!" 
 
 Then he returned to his soldiers. 
 
 Xiphilin, having marked the scene with horror, 
 was inspired to a course his friends found perilous. 
 But he bided his time while the Queen spoke very 
 calmly. 
 
 "What tortures you have earned, Romanus 
 Diogenes, we shall determine at another hour than 
 this. To the State Prisons upon Marmora let him 
 be taken." 
 
 The Varangians, ill at ease, hesitated at their 
 centurion's order, while the man himself showed 
 dismay. The royal guards revealed answering 
 
THE PALACE 71 
 
 anger against the mercenaries, and Romanus 
 quelled his own men with a word. 
 
 "To Marmora, dogs!" he shouted, and, with 
 Bardas, departed among the soldiery, followed by 
 Zonaras, Philagrius and others. 
 
 § 5 
 
 Heads wagged together; voices murmured; eyes 
 rolled in fear at the sullen barbarians* — a handful 
 from a great army at present assembled in the city. 
 Old men buzzed ; younger ones showed indignation. 
 Amidst the stir only Eudocia sat as still as a statue 
 carved in ivory and gold, staring out at the blue 
 sky beyond the balcony. She had overcome her 
 discomposure and turned to the Caesar as he spoke 
 to her. 
 
 "This man must not be spared, royal sister," said 
 John Ducas in anxious tones. "Delay will mean 
 disaffection throughout the foreign armies; and 
 that might threaten unspeakable disaster." 
 
 "Soldiers are but a swarm of bees ; they fight for 
 hive and queen till she is dead, and then forget her 
 and choose another. Let them know instantly this 
 Cappadocian is destroyed and they will grow 
 calm." 
 
72 EUDOCIA 
 
 It was the historian who spoke. 
 
 "We are the soldiers' queen bee," answered 
 Eudocia. "Angel of life are we, not death, to all 
 our people. Why such clamour to slay? You bring 
 before us an old, wise man, beloved by Constantine 
 for good reason, and this Governor, dear to our 
 foreign legions. Shall both die?" 
 
 "That Eudocia Augusta may live," answered 
 Michael Psellus. 
 
 "Nicephorus," began the Caesar, "though the 
 Patriarch and Psellus differ " 
 
 But Eudocia was roused. She had read the spirit 
 moving in the hearts of these men and anticipated 
 them. 
 
 "We had rather see them differ," she replied 
 sternly. 
 
 "This is to flout both Church and State together, 
 Majesty," declared Xiphilin. 
 
 "Be it so, then," she answered. "They shall 
 work apart, and work the better apart. Allay your 
 heresies, heal your schisms, and strive for peace in 
 your own household, Patriarch, and leave Michael 
 Psellus, now our first minister, to make the peace 
 in ours." 
 
 "What is this you say?" asked the priest blankly. 
 
 "That while we reign," she answered, "no Pope 
 
THE PALACE 73 
 
 shall keep our conscience. Leave spiritual domina- 
 tion to the West. We know the evil issues of it 
 there. Our human heart is its own temple, and 
 therein none shall ever minister but the still, small 
 voice that speaks to us from God Himself." 
 
 She broke off, then proceeded upon another 
 theme, desiring no response to what she had 
 spoken. 
 
 "Too much — too much for a monarch's peace 
 have we heard and suffered before these fearless 
 tongues of fallen men. Death and disgrace blow 
 down upon us from all the winds. Our provinces 
 are lopped off, our power broken." 
 
 "The boughs may shed a branch here and there, 
 Majesty; but what great tree can come through 
 every blast unscathed?" asked the Caesar. "Our 
 trunk is sturdy and will sprout again." 
 
 "Still Eudocia reigns from Nice unto Belgrade," 
 declared Michael Psellus. "Her sceptre sways all 
 Thrace and Greece and Macedonia, Cyprus and 
 Rhodes, the fifty blessed isles of the iEgean." 
 
 "What are these? A rag to cover our shame," 
 she answered. 
 
 "Is Constantinople nothing?" asked John Ducas. 
 "Mighty Byzantium glows, the first gem of the 
 earth, the bulwark of Christian Europe against the 
 
74 EUDOCIA 
 
 infidel — the wealthiest, most populous, rarest, 
 holiest Queen of Cities this world hath known, or 
 ever shall. Our palaces, our churches, our har- 
 bours, our marts exist forever impregnable behind 
 our walls — those mountains built by the genius of 
 the past to laugh at Time." 
 
 "Who laughs at Time but a fool, brother?" asked 
 Eudocia. "Man is the rust and canker that Time 
 uses to do his work quickliest. The lightning is 
 slow and the tempest idle to the destructive force 
 of human hearts. What matter mountains if only 
 mice lie behind them? Heard you not Komanus 
 Diogenes — how he said that what wit of man can 
 build, man can pull down? The world breeds men, 
 even as a cheese breeds mites — to its own destruc- 
 tion. 'Men' we say. Where shall we seek for 
 them? The Cappadocian was a man and told the 
 truth to me." 
 
 "Majesty," answered Psellus. "Romanus spoke 
 as one already dead and therefore careless of what 
 his lips uttered." 
 
 "He is not dead," answered the Empress; and 
 then Xiphilin, feeling that his hour had come, 
 addressed her. 
 
 "I pray you, listen, Majesty, to those of your 
 counsellors who hold tradition sacred. We are at 
 
THE PALACE 75 
 
 a moment in our affairs when the royal heart must 
 beat for Empire only ; we face a stupendous crisis 
 of our destinies, when it must become you, as you 
 yourself have told us your custom is, to call upon 
 the Living God and follow where His Holy Finger 
 points. Well, indeed, the Empire knows that you 
 are wise and most devout — a fit Queen for the 
 mother city of Christendom. Therefore I say, be 
 swift to hear the still, small voice that whispers at 
 the altar of your spirit. Without fear I urge upon 
 you, in Heaven's name, that if it be demanded 
 what you so nobly hold should as nobly be re- 
 nounced — then follow the Sacred Hand, though it 
 may lead beyond your throne to higher things." 
 
 The Court moved again, and new fear and anger 
 flashed from many eyes. The Caesar shared the 
 fear. He whispered to Xiphilin. 
 
 "For God's love, choose your words! This is 
 no time " 
 
 But Psellus supported the Patriarch. 
 
 "He's right, John Ducas. A ripe moment. Say 
 it sternly now, and let her think upon the drift. It 
 must come swiftly, and why not to-day?" 
 
 Eudocia, who had echoed none of the strong feel- 
 ing that now surged around her, and flamed on the 
 faces of her women, asked Xiphilin a question. She 
 
76 EUDOCIA 
 
 understood him well enough, but pretended as yet 
 not to do so. 
 
 "What more shall we renounce than is renounced 
 already by our oath, Patriarch ?" 
 
 "Look in your own heart, Empress, and seek 
 there the wisdom and the celestial way that leads 
 to the only answer," he replied. 
 
 "Already !" she said, smiling. "Now we perceive 
 — still dimly, but with a waxing light — what 
 Mcephorus was thinking." 
 
 "I pray you hear me," begged the high priest. 
 
 "We shall hear. But do not our people love us 
 still, with living and human love, or are you per- 
 chance the echo of sounds that have not yet struck 
 our ears?" 
 
 "Of human love I pray you not to speak, Maj- 
 esty. We've heard enough of that from the gross, 
 doomed soldier," answered Xiphilin. "Love of 
 State, love of principle, if need be love of sacrifice, 
 alone remain to her who took your sacred oaths." 
 
 "The murder's out !" she said ; and a sudden hiss 
 and deep growl ran through the blazing figures 
 around her. Irene spoke loud and shrill, while her 
 aged countenance was wrinkled with passion, and 
 she glared at the arch-priest. 
 
THE PALACE 77 
 
 "More traitors come to Court than are con- 
 demned by it !" she cried. 
 
 Michael Psellus lifted his voice and struck home 
 without fear. 
 
 "An emperor the Empire demands to-day as 
 never yet in its history," he declared, "and they 
 are traitors to the dynasty — they are traitors to 
 the throne of the East — who dare deny it." 
 
 Eudocia restrained her threatening courtiers and 
 called for peace. Then she turned to the last 
 speaker. 
 
 "And what are we, Michael Psellus?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "A woman, Majesty," he said. "And your re- 
 vered sex, by its nature, cannot reign alone." 
 
 She smiled again. 
 
 "We must not wed, and may not reign, it seems," 
 she answered, as though reflecting rather than 
 making a reply. "Not home or sovereignty, not 
 love or power, shall be permitted us." 
 
 Then she frowned, the colour deepened on her 
 face, and she fixed her eyes upon Michael Psellus. 
 
 "Your memory is weak for one who would write 
 history," she said. "We pray you cast it back a 
 little to royal women, they the people loved, who 
 
78 EUDOCIA 
 
 have written their reigns in letters of gold. Do you 
 account us another Martina, to be hurled down by 
 the nation's righteous rage and hate?" 
 
 "The people indeed would worship you, if they 
 dared, my sister," declared John Ducas; "but the 
 mob is full of moods and, like the Inland Sea, they 
 smile to-day and sink a ship to-morrow." 
 
 "Nevertheless we would trust them sooner than 
 some voices that we have just heard; their wel- 
 coming shout is sweeter music to us than any 
 speech of counsellors — sweeter and dearer to our 
 hearts. Because we know the voice of the multi- 
 tude is the voice of our God." 
 
 "Madness, Majesty! Believe no such folly, but 
 seek your God in Heaven," said Xiphilin. 
 
 "He chose us out of the myriads of women to fill 
 this throne," she answered. "That at least admits 
 no question; and shall we desert it for some cold, 
 cowardly nook in that uplifted tomb of living dead 
 men call a nunnery?" 
 
 Again a sibilant tremor passed through the ranks 
 of the women. 
 
 "Your thought is unripe and harsh, Eudocia 
 Augusta," replied Xiphilin very earnestly. "The 
 cloister, not the throne, promises an everlasting 
 fame that seldom yet has crowned a king. Is it not 
 better to be the haloed saint of heaven, with life 
 
THE PALACE 79 
 
 consecrated to holiness, than still a royal doll, 
 having no purpose nobler than the people's futile 
 will?" 
 
 Cries of indignation gathered, and he turned 
 upon the Court and lifted his voice, clarion clear, 
 above the rest. 
 
 "Think not I dread your tongues, ye godless 
 sycophants! Be warned, for he who would dare 
 flout me, questions the Name of Him for Whom I 
 speak." 
 
 He turned again to the impassive Queen. 
 
 "Oh, save your soul alive by your own august 
 will, Majesty. Fly this vain and hollow pageant; 
 quit this empty life of glittering worthlessness, to 
 seek God and reality by devout and close com- 
 munion with eternal truth ! There only your high 
 destiny beckons — the life of service, worship, hu- 
 mility — all higher than a throne. Trample beneath 
 your feet the asp and basilisk ; slay pride ; conquer 
 lust " 
 
 Something like a scream broke from the elder 
 women who listened, and men also displayed furi- 
 ous indignation. Irene voiced a hundred. Forget- 
 ting the place and time, she leapt down, as though 
 she would tear the Patriarch's eyes with her with- 
 ered fingers, and stood panting against him. 
 
 "Thou wretch!" she cried, "to sully the driven 
 
80 EUDOCIA 
 
 snow of the imperial heart with thine impurities! 
 Out upon thee, traitor to the Throne." 
 
 Xiphilin fell back before a roar of hearty temper, 
 and the Caesar, who was trembling, spoke to him. 
 
 "You've gone too far," he said. 
 
 "Fear not," answered the Patriarch. "I saw her 
 eyes shine upon her accursed general. She under- 
 stands that I have spoken no needless word." 
 
 Caesar mounted to the steps of the throne, where 
 silent, and without visible anger, the Empress sat 
 regarding Xiphilin. Neither orb nor sceptre quiv- 
 ered in her steady hands. 
 
 Psellus also warned the high priest. 
 
 "You will fall," he said. "This may destroy us 
 both. The army is still with her. We have gone 
 too fast." 
 
 "We are unconquerable," answered Xiphilin, 
 "while we remain of one mind and in the right." 
 
 Then the situation cleared and the storm passed 
 at the Caesar's voice. 
 
 "Audience is ended," he announced, and the 
 heralds echoed him. A great movement swayed 
 the people, and a sound like a falling wave escaped 
 from the mass of them. Under it ran fury still. 
 Only the woman on her throne sat motionless and 
 silent, gazing at the Patriarch. 
 
THE PALACE 81 
 
 His attendants approached him, and beneath the 
 acolyte's golden cross, he made obeisance and 
 uttered a last word. 
 
 "Not in my own name, but for the King of 
 Kings I have spoken, Majesty." 
 
 She did not answer, and her eyes followed him 
 until he had disappeared. 
 
 The Court obeyed its rites; the trumpets again 
 sounded; the silver doors were opened, and the 
 Senators marched through them, followed by their 
 retinues. The throng thinned gradually to music, 
 while Irene and Theodora disrobed the Empress 
 and relieved her of robe, diadem and many heavy 
 ornaments. The marks of royalty were borne away, 
 and with her gauds Eudocia seemed to fling down 
 the part they dressed, and grow younger and more 
 human. She was very silent, but smiled at Theo- 
 dora, who, with a silken kerchief, cooled her hot 
 forehead. 
 
 The Caesar spoke. 
 
 "We leave you, but will sup with you, sister," 
 he said. Then he followed the company into the 
 palace with Michael Psellus. 
 
 Soon the doors were shut again, and only the 
 guard remained, while Eudocia, descending, 
 walked with the women to the balcony. There she 
 
82 EUDOCIA 
 
 rested while two little negresses fanned her, and 
 small page boys waited with basins of fruit and 
 sweetmeats, and crystal flagons of white wine. The 
 Empress loved the ministry of children, and de- 
 lighted to see young things about her. 
 
 § 6 
 
 The Monarch discarded sovereignty with its 
 emblems, but active care sat upon her forehead 
 and clashed with much that moved in her brain. 
 Light flashed fitfully through the cloudy weather 
 of Eudocia's mind, and none guessed all that was 
 stirring there. Irene came close and took her 
 hand. To Theodora, the golden-headed, a child 
 brought a frame, whereon she worked in silk; 
 Maria — a dark woman — sat by the balustrade with 
 her eyes upon the sea; while the maidens 
 Euphrosyne and Gregoria, squatted together on 
 the marble floor, whispered of Nicephorus, and 
 played at knuckle-bones. 
 
 Irene spoke, and her voice still panted with past 
 anger. 
 
 "If eyes could kill, then you'd have slain the base 
 thing. I shall not live again till Xiphilin has paid 
 the price for this." 
 
THE PALACE 83 
 
 "My ears drank poison. Yet, though I have long 
 understood what was growing, it finds me unpre- 
 pared. I am a true Byzantine — slow to action." 
 
 "An avenging angel you should be," said the 
 ancient. 
 
 "Why do Churchmen think so evil of women?" 
 asked Theodora. 
 
 "Because they misread the Faith, torture their 
 Creed, forget Christ, and flout at Nature," an- 
 swered Irene. "They hate us all because they may 
 not love us. Whereon Nature takes her revenge, 
 and makes the sweet and fair look foul and evil in 
 their eyes. You kept your temper with him, Eu- 
 docia! I could not." 
 
 "My temper will soon be all that I have left to 
 keep," answered the Empress. 
 
 "Would to Highest God that you might love!" 
 murmured Theodora. "I, that know love, marvel 
 how any woman endures her life without it. Love 
 is the only rainbow in the clouds — the clouds that 
 mostly make our lives." 
 
 "And passion the crooked lightning in those 
 clouds. Be sure that both are fleeting, Theodora," 
 warned the dark girl with her eyes on the sea. 
 
 "Leave that stuff to Xiphilin, Maria," replied the 
 betrothed of Bardas. "Wait till you know better." 
 
84 EUDOCIA 
 
 "True love is not fleeting," declared Eudocia. 
 "Though I have never felt it, my heart reverences 
 true love beyond all true things: it is the very 
 height of truth." 
 
 "Grant now, Theodora, that to Bardas, the Cap- 
 padocian was an oak to a reed," cried Gregoria. 
 "I never saw such another. May a Romanus love 
 me some day !" 
 
 "Seek Bardas," said the Empress. "I have a 
 command. Go you, Theodora: you'll best know 
 where to find him." 
 
 The bright-haired girl rose happily. 
 
 "It is his hour with the hawks, if he be not still 
 with Diogenes," she answered, and descended into 
 the garden. 
 
 "How the lady loves!" sighed Maria. 
 
 "I would she loved a better man," answered her 
 mistress. "Theodora is a thousand times too brave 
 and beautiful for our Protostrator." 
 
 "They do adore each other* — even their hands 
 can't keep from clinging," said Euphrosyne. 
 "They creep out to each other in secret, like little 
 birds. I've often watched them." 
 
 "Yet time runs seldom on the side of passion," 
 mused Maria. 
 
 "A poor thing is our Bardas," declared Irene 
 
THE PALACE 85 
 
 frankly. "Shallow and vain, and a coward as I 
 think under his booming voice. I marvel that the 
 Patriarch should have a fool for a brother." 
 
 "Surely it is no misfortune to be a fool, for fools 
 at least are happy," answered Eudocia. "Bardas 
 is the only happy man I know." 
 
 "What shall you do?" asked the old woman. 
 
 "As yet I cannot think; but something resolute 
 and swift. I trust the people, Irene, for all they 
 say against them." 
 
 "And never sovereign safelier trusted. Let your 
 cry reach them, and the factions will rise — the 
 'Greens' and the 'Blues' alike — and the army also, 
 in such a storm that these ugly things must soon 
 be swept to perdition. Mcephorus warned you. 
 Scarcely was his back turned when these wretches 
 began their disloyal work." 
 
 A young voice rang up from the garden. 
 
 "Is my mother there, Maria?" 
 
 "Yes, gracious Prince," she answered, and a 
 moment later, Michael Ducas, followed by his 
 guardian, ran up the steps. 
 
 Meantime Irene had spoken to Gregoria. 
 
 "Bid the new singer come — the girl from Cyprus. 
 Majesty is out of heart — she may amuse her for a 
 moment" 
 
86 EUDOCIA 
 
 Gregoria crossed the main hall and disappeared, 
 while Michael ran to Eudocia's couch. 
 
 "I'm thirsty," he said, and took fruit. 
 
 "And what have you been doing?" asked his 
 mother. 
 
 He held up a great yellow plum to her. 
 
 "Kiss it — to make it sweeter inside," he de- 
 manded. 
 
 "What a courtier !" laughed Euphrosyne. 
 
 "Saurus has turned into a hateful crow," de- 
 clared Michael, "and he shall be mine no more." 
 
 "Our Lizard turned into a crow?" asked Irene. 
 
 "Crunk — crunk! He croaks, and — and — every- 
 thing's so sad," replied the child. He gave a little 
 sob and bit fiercely into his plum to hide the sound. 
 
 "Why, you've been crying, Michael!" said the 
 Empress. 
 
 "I have not!" he answered, with his mouth full. 
 "It wasn't crying; but my eyes blinked without 
 leave — Mcephorus — I love him so ; and now you've 
 sent him to be turned into a monk." 
 
 "Only outside — a cowl doesn't make a monk," 
 grunted Saurus. He sat on a cushion beside the 
 royal couch. 
 
 "Or diadem an Empress," said Eudocia. 
 "Would you like to see me take the veil, Irene?" 
 
THE PALACE 87 
 
 "I'd tear it off with these gouty claws," she 
 answered. 
 
 "The Patriarch would rather see me saint than 
 queen, Saurus," continued Eudocia. She appeared 
 to be uttering idle words, while her real thoughts 
 moved out of sight. She was cast down and sighed 
 sometimes. 
 
 "Of course he would," answered the little man. 
 "Saints are easier to manage. Saints, in this land, 
 are many, queens are few." 
 
 "And Xiphilin's a knave — an insolent, godless 
 knave," snapped out Irene. "Strike before you're 
 struck ; cast him down and choose another priest — 
 a man who knows his place — not a greedy patrician 
 masquerading as a humble servant of the Lord. A 
 bandit in a cope, a mitred thief — a traitor to his 
 Empress. If there had been a man at Court he 
 should have been slain to-day." 
 
 "You are a heroine, Madam," declared Saurus 
 gravely. "Yours the courage to say what all think, 
 yet fear for their lives to whisper." 
 
 "The Patriarch would destroy all womenkind at 
 once through me," admitted Eudocia. 
 
 "Then, for all womenkind, destroy him," urged 
 Irene. "Is it not vile that men whom we have 
 borne, and given their flesh and blood and chance 
 
88 EUDOCIA 
 
 of eternity, should thus revile the sacred sex of 
 their mothers?" 
 
 , "Too late to rage," replied the Lizard. "She's 
 hung up her sword to rust by Marmora now. Only 
 Mcephorus would brave our holy father, and 
 Xiphilin knew it. He has long waited his chance." 
 
 "There is the Caesar," answered Irene. "He was 
 angered beyond measure with Xiphilin, and bade 
 him be silent." 
 
 "John Ducas is a willow wand that bends to any 
 breeze. He was frightened perhaps — not angry," 
 answered the Lizard. Then Eudocia silenced him. 
 
 "Peace," she said. "Prate of other things." 
 
 "Did I not tell the truth when I declared he 
 croaked and croaked?" asked Michael. 
 
 "Make him ask us a riddle, or tell us a story," 
 begged Euphrosyne. 
 
 "Come, then, so I will," answered the dwarf. "I'll 
 do both, and first give heed to a true tale of a 
 ghost, girls." 
 
 He drank wine and spoke. 
 
 "Dion, the Syracusan, after he had freed his 
 country from tyrants, with great glory to himself, 
 sitting in his house about noon, beheld suddenly a 
 woman in habit of a Fury, of huge size and most 
 hideous ugliness. Without speaking a word she 
 
THE PALACE 89 
 
 swept the floor of the chamber with a broom, and 
 perceiving her to be no human thing, but a spectre, 
 Dion lifted his voice and called his people, where- 
 upon she vanished into the air. And, even as Dion, 
 we may soon see dark spectres wielding their 
 ghostly brooms within the palace, for what fol- 
 lowed to that hero? The evil pre-signified by this 
 phantom came swiftly upon him. His son perished 
 of an accident, falling from his chariot, and con- 
 spirators lay in wait and slew Dion himself under 
 his own roof, thereafter dragging his wife and 
 daughter to prison. Thus was his house swept 
 clean indeed." 
 
 "Oh, hateful Lizard!" cried Michael. 
 
 "A riddle now — a riddle," ran on the little man. 
 "Come, the reason for mankind, Maria?" 
 
 "Not mankind nor womankind can tell the 
 reason," replied she. 
 
 "For a right good reason too," declared Irene. 
 "It's not on earth. Not all the wit of all the wise, 
 alive or dead, can tell." 
 
 "Perhaps love could," said the Empress. 
 
 "Can Saurus?" asked Euphrosyne. 
 
 "Yes, I know," he replied. "Such a pearl should 
 be kept close; but since none of you will believe 
 me, no harm is done. The mightiest truths run 
 
90 EUDOCIA 
 
 naked through the world for lack of credence to 
 clothe them. So they outrage our all-conquering 
 falsehoods, and go to prison for indecency. We 
 are here for a condiment and sharp sauce, to keep 
 the celestial dishes from tastelessness. That is the 
 whole matter. At the immortal dinner-party up 
 aloft the gods drink blood — not wine — to keep their 
 chilly ichor warm. Man means death — the tiger 
 in the arena. He gives flavour and counter-flavour 
 to keep the meal sapid. For unto them this death 
 of ours is the unknowable and wondrous thing, the 
 fascinating mystery, the cream they can never 
 taste. Our incense makes them cough; our sac- 
 rifices bore them to despair ; but when we're at each 
 other's throats, then they wake up and clap their 
 hands and laugh, to see what ridiculous and bloody 
 pains we take to make our short days shorter." 
 
 "Never will I believe it," cried Irene. 
 
 "Of course you won't. I said you would not," 
 answered the Lizard. 
 
 "The reason for us is hidden with God," de- 
 clared Maria. "He wills that crown of knowledge 
 shall be denied us here." 
 
 Bardas entered at this moment with Theodora. 
 
 "Bardas came into the world, I'm sure, for The- 
 odora's happiness," declared Euphrosyne. 
 
THE PALACE • 91 
 
 "It is well said," answered her mistress. "May- 
 hap we all come into the world to win our eternal 
 salvation by bringing happiness for others." 
 
 She turned to Bardas. 
 
 "You know Malthus?" she asked, and he said 
 that he did. 
 
 "Red Malthus of the prisons, Majesty? I know 
 him well enough." 
 
 "Go to him then ; and let him hear that 'tis our 
 wish you share his present task. Take up your 
 quarters there, for there are now two beside Mar- 
 mora who must be treated as becomes their state. 
 Attend Romanus Diogenes and Mcephorus until 
 we summon you again, and see that their apart- 
 ments look toward the sun and stand high upon 
 the southern face of the great tower." 
 
 "Malthus is a surly bear," declared Bardas. 
 "His calling turns him into Cerberus. I'll go at 
 once and gallop. May Theodora come, Majesty, to 
 ride with me an hour and return?" 
 
 "Let me go with him," begged Theodora. 
 
 "Who would separate soul from body? Not I," 
 answered Eudocia. 
 
 They departed together, and Michael spoke to his 
 mother. 
 
 "Bardas has bought a gift for Theodora," 
 
92 EUDOCIA 
 
 he said. "A black monkey with a sad, white 
 face." 
 
 "That sounds more like a monk than a monkey, 
 Prince," laughed Saurus. 
 
 Then returned Gregoria with the singer and two 
 musicians. The island-girl was tall and full- 
 bosomed, clad in purple, and decorated with tin- 
 kling, brass trinkets. Of the two men with her, one 
 played a pipe, the other a theorbo, or arch-lute — a 
 great, stringed instrument to accompany the voice. 
 
 "The Cyprian, Zoe," said Gregoria. "Pray let 
 her sing to you, Majesty." 
 
 A line of poetry passed through Eudocia's mind 
 and she repeated it, as though to herself alone. 
 
 " TJpon that land the foam-born leapt to earth, 
 And morning laughed with a new loveliness 
 When her shell stranded on the expectant shore.'" 
 
 She turned to the kneeling singer. 
 
 "What can you sing, Zoe?" she asked, and the 
 girl answered. 
 
 "Of all things, Majesty." 
 
 Eudocia smiled. 
 
 "Then sing to us a song of love, my nightingale." 
 
 "And let it be a happy song," added Irene. "We 
 want no dumps." 
 
THE PALACE 93 
 
 The Empress, however, was not of her mind. 
 
 "I will no happy song," she said. 
 
 "A song of sad love then," added Gregoria, "but 
 not too sad." 
 
 "There are more songs wrote and sung of sad 
 love than all other things," answered Zoe. 
 
 She reflected a moment, then turned to the mu- 
 sicians. They sat to play, and the company also 
 reclined. Saurus took up Theodora's silk frame 
 and proceeded with her work ; Michael went to the 
 fountain, kicked off his shoes and dabbled his feet 
 among the black and silver carp that swam there. 
 
 The flute throbbed and the arch-lute drummed 
 gently while Zoe sang. 
 
 "The Song of the Wbeath 
 "Where are the orange flowers I hid away, 
 So silvery and bright, 
 My sisters wove 
 Out of their love, 
 To make a little wreath upon the day 
 That saw me bride, 
 When sunshine died 
 Upon this wedded night? 
 
 "Oh, perished sweetness from my mother's home 
 Under the olive hill, 
 It was not dew 
 But tears that slew 
 Your loveliness; and mine to this has come. 
 Would ye were now 
 Gold on the bough 
 And I a maiden still." 
 
94 EUDOCIA 
 
 When the last notes had ceased, Eudocia spoke. 
 
 "May you never feel what you so sweetly sing," 
 she said. "Give the girl this." 
 
 Euphrosyne took a bracelet from the wrist of the 
 Empress, and the singer thanked her, bending low. 
 
 "Hail, Majesty. Your slave doth bless your 
 gracious bounty!" 
 
 "And now she's rich enough to taste unhappy 
 love herself," commented Saurus. 
 
 Eudocia desired no more music, and the mu- 
 sicians departed. Then Maria spoke in her gloomy 
 fashion. 
 
 "Full many a wife hath wished her wreath back 
 upon the bough," she murmured. 
 
 "But what is that to me?" asked the Empress, 
 as Irene rose. 
 
 "Well, rude hunger is digging at my old ribs" 
 she declared. "He waits for neither grief nor joy, 
 nor God nor man. It's time to eat and drink, my 
 Empress." 
 
 "Depart — all of you," answered Eudocia, "and 
 leave me awhile. Go your ways. My appetite is 
 sleeping." 
 
 "There is better bread than is made of wheat; 
 and God help those who do not sometimes hunger 
 for it," said Saurus. Then the company entered the 
 
THE PALACE 95 
 
 palace, and only Michael was left with his mother. 
 At the same moment the silver doors opened and 
 the guard changed. Two rows of metal-clad raen 
 departed; two rows took their place, to stand as 
 silent and motionless as the pillars of the outer 
 balcony; and since they were beyond earshot, Eu- 
 docia and her son held them as no more human 
 than the columns of stone. 
 
 "Now you're alone," he said, lifting his feet out 
 of the fountain; "alone with only me, mother. 
 That's how best I love you." 
 
 "I'm never alone — with you, Michael." 
 
 "You're safe enough," he assured her, "now that 
 I wear a dagger. It is sharp too. I cut my thumb 
 this morning, but that's well again. Why are you 
 sad and pouting, mother?" 
 
 "How do you know that I am sad?" 
 
 "I always know, because your lips keep comfort- 
 ing each other, and your tongue peeps out some- 
 times, to try and cheer them up, and your eyes stare 
 at things you can't see. Why don't you laugh, like 
 other pretty girls?" 
 
 "Perhaps I have nothing to make me laugh 'like 
 other pretty girls,' Michael." 
 
 "Why have you not then — you, who might have 
 everything?" 
 
96 EUDOCIA 
 
 "I'm lonely," she answered, "but nobody can en- 
 dure to be quite lonely, so Romanus told me. If 
 some one loved me, Michael — then, perhaps, I 
 should be lonely no more, and laugh at the others — 
 they who do not love me." 
 
 "Everybody loves somebody," the child assured 
 her. "If people love you not, mother, then make 
 them love you. You're the Empress. You have but 
 to command and say, 'Love me/ then the whole 
 world must fall down and love you." 
 
 "I only want my share of love, Michael — the love 
 of just one real, living man would be enough I'm 
 sure." 
 
 "Why only one? An Empress should have ten 
 thousand men to love her, and die for her." 
 
 "Let all love the Empress and one love the 
 woman, Michael boy." 
 
 "Where is he then? He shall be brought, though 
 we send to the moon for him, mother." 
 
 "You love me well enough?" 
 
 "Of course I do." 
 
 "And many others you love too?" 
 
 But he shook his head. 
 
 "Not many. It's tiring to love many. Only old 
 Lizard — I said I hated him, but I don't — only old 
 Lizard and Nicephorus. Oh, how sad — how sad! 
 Must he be a monk? I should have thought there 
 
THE PALACE 97 
 
 were enough already. And he indeed loved you. 
 I know he did, though he's so ugly. Ugly people 
 can love as well as pretty ones." 
 
 "So thought I, Michael. I thought that he was 
 faithful. Now they say I must not trust him. So 
 only my boy's left." 
 
 "I saw Romanus go — he was gloomy, and terrible 
 to look at. Lizard swore Romanus loved you too." 
 
 "And dies for it — did he tell you that?" 
 
 "Romanus dies! That huge man to die! I'm 
 sorry then; I'm very sorry he is going to die, be- 
 cause he was so strong and so beautiful, like a 
 statue made alive. Oh death is horrible — I hate it 
 — I hate it, mother. Why do you kill people?" 
 
 "You saw him marched away?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes ; we climbed upon the wall and watched him 
 go with the strange soldiers — and they were 
 angry." 
 
 Michael broke off, filled with an inspiration. He 
 looked anxiously at his mother, sideways, from 
 under his dark brows. He was desirous to speak 
 his thought, yet feared a little. At last he plucked 
 up courage, while in her mind Eudocia watched 
 Romanus Diogenes enter the prison by Marmora. 
 
 The boy's voice broke tremulously on her ear, 
 and brought her back to him again. 
 
 "Mother sweet — mother sweetest, if — if great 
 
98 EUDOCIA 
 
 Roinanus loves you, don't you think perhaps it is 
 a pity to kill him? Because — because, if you kill 
 a great general when he loves you, all the rest will 
 feel a little frightened — won't they?" 
 
 She smiled, and seeing she was not angered, he 
 put his arms round her neck and his face close to 
 hers. 
 
 "Oh forgive — forgive him just this once," he 
 whispered. "To pleasure me, mother. It's far 
 easier to forgive than you might think — I know, 
 because Fve tried it!" 
 
 She cuddled her cheek to the child's, and was 
 happy for a little while. 
 
 "You're a darling!" she said. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE PRISON 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE PRISON 
 § 1 
 
 The apartments of Romanus Diogenes in the State 
 Prison on Marmora stood at the summit of a great 
 tower that sprang directly out of the sea. Under 
 a full moon the waters rippled to its base, breaking 
 there in little waves, that flashed a thread of silver 
 along the stone. The living chamber had been 
 sombrely furnished. The walls were frescoed in 
 tones of auburn and dusky purple ; upon the eastern 
 side hung an ikon of gold, and before this emblem 
 was suspended a lamp in a ruby glass. Upon a 
 table in the midst stood another lamp of Greek 
 workmanship, the oil cup and wick of which were 
 carried by a squat Silenus astride a wine-skin. 
 Near it stood a large brass hand-bell, a book or 
 two, a beaker of red wine and a salver containing 
 grapes and figs. A couch extended against one 
 wall, while round the table were drawn massive 
 chairs. The window, shooting upward in three tall 
 
 101 
 
i02 EUDOCIA 
 
 lancets, was uncovered, and the lamplight did not 
 serve to kill illumination from the moon, which 
 twinkled in the clear glass and flung down a pat- 
 tern of light upon eastern rugs that covered 
 the floor. 
 
 Into this cage, where the Governor of Thrace 
 now passed his waking hours, there entered three 
 men, to find it empty. 
 
 Two were wrapped in dark cloaks and hoods, 
 while masks concealed their features; the third, 
 who had brought them, was uncovered. He stood 
 taller than the visitors, and displayed a massive 
 and brawny shape, a head and beard of Venetian 
 red, and a face of stern aspect. 
 
 Malthus, Governor of the State Prisons, had 
 brought these persons to see Romanus Diogenes. 
 They came armed with a signed mandate from 
 Michael Psellus, which insured their admittance, 
 though Malthus knew them not. 
 
 "Where is he now?" asked the taller of the two 
 masked men. 
 
 "With Bardas, playing chess," answered the 
 chief gaoler in deliberate, heavy tones. Then he 
 voiced a grievance. 
 
 "Why is the Patriarch's brother sent hither? 
 Does Eudocia doubt me that this poppinjay ?" 
 
 The stranger spoke again. 
 
THE PRISON 103 
 
 "It is her whim and means nothing. He'll soon 
 be gone." 
 
 "Busy fool!" growled Malthus. Then he pre- 
 pared to depart. "Bide here and I will send 
 Romanus to you," he said, and so left them. 
 
 Alone, the pair removed their masks and threw 
 off their hoods. Then the Patriarch addressed his 
 companion, Michael Psellus, now Prime Minister. 
 Xiphilin, it seemed, had something to confess, and 
 his instinct prompted him to an explanation very 
 needless in his present company. 
 
 Psellus and he were come in secret that they 
 might win the fallen general with a lie; and while 
 they waited, Xiphilin touched upon the ethical 
 significance of their deed. 
 
 "Falsehood," said he, "still labours under a 
 stigma ; and it is well that it should be denied the 
 herd. But what say the Fathers, Psellus? They 
 rightly hold that it be permitted under certain cir- 
 cumstances. Thus, if a sinner stand in the shadow 
 of death and damnation, and a falsehood will se- 
 cure his life, he may use it, that his days shall 
 be lengthened and afford him time to repent and 
 save his soul alive. If, therefore, a man be allowed 
 to speak what is false to save himself, how much 
 more shall untruth be justified when employed to 
 save the soul of a fellow man? For our duty to 
 
104 EUDOCIA 
 
 our neighbour is to love him as ourself. To take 
 a higher flight, how amply, then, is the falsehood 
 privileged that would save the State and the count- 
 less souls depending upon its security." 
 
 "It is a weapon which may well become the 
 patriot," replied Psellus, entertained in secret that 
 the Patriarch should be at so much trouble to 
 present his conscience spotless. 
 
 But Xiphilin proceeded to a profounder con- 
 sideration. 
 
 "Indeed, one can say more," he continued, "and 
 after long and prayerful pondering upon this deep 
 matter, light has come and I perceive that the 
 question of the origin of all evil is to be explained 
 in very direct terms. It is not a complicated prob- 
 lem, as we make it by metaphysical thinking, but a 
 difficulty that yields to common sense. For what 
 can be more elementary than the fact that good and 
 evil, even as light and darkness, or heat and cold, 
 depend upon each other? Without wickedness 
 there could be no goodness at all; without false- 
 hood, truth is an empty name. Thus operate the 
 categories of earth; but I conceive that our words 
 'good' and 'evil' have no meaning in heaven, or hell, 
 where opposites are reconciled by the absolute. 
 Eternity, Michael Psellus, lies beyond such con- 
 
THE PRISON 105 
 
 cepts, even as nature lies outside them. They are 
 but the scaffold erected by human consciousness, 
 the machinery by which civilisation and the great- 
 est good to the greatest number may be advanced, 
 if not secured. This is not milk for babes, 
 but you will comprehend ; and it follows that good 
 and evil alike are merely instruments put into our 
 human hands to employ with wisdom and high 
 purpose. A fool can be trusted with goodness 
 alone, and commanded to keep within its limits 
 for the common weal; for evil is two-edged, and 
 only to be employed by the mighty on mighty 
 occasions." 
 
 "You beat the air," answered Psellus. "Until 
 man has agreed what is good and evil — what is 
 right in itself and what in itself is wrong — the 
 terms are as easily changed and exchanged as those 
 we apply to the weather. To-day sunshine is good ; 
 to-morrow the rain makes goodness and the sun 
 spells starvation. Our task is to win Romanus 
 Diogenes, and with him the armies, for the welfare 
 of the State, that we may the easier empty the 
 throne of a woman whose weakness grows danger- 
 ous to all. That done, since the object is good, any 
 efficient means to attain it must also be good. One 
 does not seek for a straight stick to kill a snake 
 
106 EUDOCIA 
 
 if a crooked one is at hand. The value of the stick 
 lies in its power to kill the snake. Who can af- 
 firm what is spiritual loss, or gain? To-morrow 
 gives to-day the lie, and good and evil are only the 
 colours on a chameleon reflected from its sit- 
 uation." 
 
 He proceeded to the present. 
 
 "Did you see John Ducas this morning?" 
 
 "I did," answered Xiphilin. "He grows exceed- 
 ingly fearful. The man's a coward, but cowards 
 are easily controlled. The Caesar is pig-headed. 
 Constantine, his brother, was the like. All of the 
 race of Ducas are pious and obstinate." 
 
 "To make him follow, believing that he leads, is 
 no great task," answered Psellus. "As for this 
 soldier here, we must edge our appeal with the 
 abundant love of life and freedom that belongs to 
 such a man. Hell be impatient of this stern mew- 
 ing up, and long to spread his wings. He does not 
 guess how formidable his strength becomes." 
 
 "His ignorance is deluded easily," replied the 
 Patriarch. "Once set him free at the head of the 
 armies, owing, as he will think, his life to us, and 
 he'll do our bidding thankfully enough and help to 
 make the Caesar sure." 
 
 Then there entered Romanus, soberly clad, his 
 great neck and beautiful head ascending above a 
 
THE PRISON 107 
 
 sad-coloured trunk and hose, that served to reveal 
 the splendour of his frame. 
 
 Their faces were turned from him, and he spoke 
 before he had recognised his visitors. 
 
 "Well, my blackbirds, and have you come to end 
 it? Has she been merciless and denied me death 
 in the open?" 
 
 Then the Patriarch and Michael Psellus revealed 
 themselves to the soldier's amazement. 
 
 "Xiphilin — and you! Is it from Eudocia Au- 
 gusta you come?" he asked. 
 
 "Happily not," answered the historian. "We're 
 here unguessed by all. We visit you for reasons 
 of State alone." 
 
 Romanus recollected the last occasion of their 
 meeting, and supposed that the head of the Church 
 must for ever be his enemy, even though Psellus 
 were not. 
 
 "The Empress knows nothing of your coming?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "Nothing, nor shall she. Give close heed to us, 
 Romanus Diogenes, for your existence depends 
 upon it — and far more than that." 
 
 The listener was in a measure reassured. Had 
 these men pretended friendship, he must have been 
 at once convinced of their insincerity ; but that they 
 were here for weightier reasons than his welfare 
 
108 EUDOCIA 
 
 imparted a suggestion of truth to what they told. 
 Yet the soldier quickly found himself doubtful, for 
 Psellus cast him into confusion. Truth and un- 
 truth to his ear struggled in the historian's state- 
 ment, and the lie was too large. 
 
 "Eudocia has made decision," began Psellus. 
 "Her judgment was swift, but her sentence on your 
 crime is in its nature slow. She has taken your 
 folly in a spirit that you might have foreseen had 
 you known the Empress as well as we. To-morrow 
 you are to die." 
 
 "So be it then," answered the culprit. 
 
 "So it shall not be," replied Michael Psellus. 
 "The Church and State alike say 'no.' Think not 
 it is the man, Romanus, whom we are here to save : 
 to pretend so would be to insult your intelligence 
 after what passed at Court. But you are a soldier 
 and the leader of these hosts now quartered in the 
 city. You are, therefore, a very needful piece in 
 the game that is playing now. You guard more 
 squares than you guess at, and your destruction 
 to-day, at the gust of a woman's passion, might 
 breed grave and far-reaching disasters. That, in- 
 deed, she knows well enough ; but so she has willed 
 it, setting a personal revenge on your mad audacity 
 above the call of the hour." 
 
THE PRISON 109 
 
 "This sounds incredible to me," declared 
 Romanus. 
 
 "Nothing is incredible where woman holds the 
 reins," replied Psellus. "Your great crime has 
 twisted her reason somewhat out of bias — a thing 
 easily done — and she does not perceive that, though 
 you merit death, the needs of the time demand 
 your freedom, if not your pardon." 
 
 "A tyrant, Eudocia!" 
 
 "That is she, Romanus. Her nature welcomes 
 excuse for secret cruelty, and her fire leaps on the 
 just and unjust. None, indeed, is safe until a man 
 fills the throne of the East again ; and so it must be 
 filled, for our design is to lift the Caesar, that he 
 may share sovereignty with youthful Michael, son 
 of Constantine. In your power it lies to advance 
 these salutary steps; it is at once your duty and 
 your good fortune so to do, for thus you establish 
 your own loyalty to the house of Ducas, and secure 
 the highest place the army holds, when Caesar shall 
 be Emperor. And — if that counts — you are, by the 
 same stroke, quits with the woman who now means 
 to shed your blood." 
 
 "What has Eudocia willed for one who would 
 have died for her?" 
 
 "Not the sword of the Saracen. You are con- 
 
110 EUDOCIA 
 
 demned to be burned alive. In secret you will 
 perish, for she fears the Varangians. Her sentence 
 is devilish — a pretty sample of the way women use 
 their feline wits. The legions are to be hood- 
 winked, and when you die, they will learn that you 
 have escaped by Marmora, to join the Seljouk 
 Turks and fight for Alp Arslan against the 
 Empire." 
 
 "Burned alive! Good God of War!" murmured 
 Romanus. "She plotted that against me?" 
 
 Then Xiphilin spoke. 
 
 "An Empress does not plot: she wills," he an- 
 swered. "I love you not, Diogenes, for you are a 
 godless animal; but since the statesmen have in- 
 vited my opinion upon your threatened doom, I am 
 content to leave your life in the Hand of an out- 
 raged Maker, and preserve it from your insulted 
 Queen. And that I do, believing that you may not 
 only serve this kingdom, but perchance win time 
 to remit the reward of your own blasphemies by 
 faithful duty done." 
 
 Diogenes regarded them silently, almost sul- 
 lenly, for a moment, while they waited for him 
 to speak. 
 
 "I saw no such fate in her eyes," he said at last. 
 
 "Women can train their eyes to lie as easily as 
 
THE PRISON 111 
 
 their tongues," answered the Patriarch. "The 
 truth of them is hidden in their hearts — out of 
 men's sight." 
 
 "To burn alive is no new thing to me neverthe- 
 less," declared Romanus. 
 
 "Only lack of imagination prompts to flippancy 
 at such a moment," said Psellus impatiently. "We 
 are not here to bandy words, but indicate your 
 peril and offer salvation — at a price." 
 
 "Yet we will bandy words," replied the soldier 
 calmly. "We will at least exchange opinions, for 
 I doubt this tale. Eudocia never thought to torture 
 me. Her record is not hidden: she is a clement 
 prince, and the world knows her to be merciful. 
 Those who have died for crimes committed since 
 she reigned have not suffered our barbarous mu- 
 tilations or devilish torture, but perished at a 
 stroke. Not she would burn a man alive . . . you 
 lie to me!" 
 
 His voice rose till the vault of the stone roof 
 echoed. 
 
 "Take back your lie," cried the minister, and 
 Xiphilin intervened. 
 
 "Romanus, it is to your credit that you are slow 
 to think evil, as all men should be; but in thus 
 seeking to doubt of Eudocia's purpose, you accuse 
 
112 EUDOCIA 
 
 those who would befriend you. Be not so foolish, 
 for what is your fate to us outside the mightier 
 fortunes hanging upon it? If you perish, the 
 armies run out of hand, and something not far 
 short of civil war appears between our barbarian 
 forces and the city troops. You know who would 
 conquer — those you lead; and did they hold Con- 
 stantinople for an hour, their first act would be to 
 avenge your destruction, for it cannot be concealed 
 from them. What would they do? Sweep away 
 the brother and the son of Constantine like straws ; 
 and so you die traitor to the late Emperor. But 
 live as we bid you live, and you play a worthy part 
 to the dynasty. Therefore escape this night and 
 be the soldiers' oriflame again — a force for right 
 and honour in this distracted Empire. Your head 
 is thick, but loyal, Romanus Diogenes. Therefore 
 use the brains that God has given you, and lift your 
 own fortune to its desert." 
 
 "There is no dilemma here to waste two thoughts 
 upon — if you are sane," added Psellus. 
 
 But Romanus withstood them. Upon the man 
 of letters indeed he spent no more speech, but 
 Xiphilin he answered sternly, and left no doubt of 
 his determination. 
 
 "With two tongues you speak," he answered, 
 
THE PRISON 113 
 
 "and I believe neither one nor t'other. You are 
 hiding truth, and you are not here to serve the 
 sovereign, but to advance your plot against her. 
 I'll keep no trust with you, Patriarch." 
 
 As he spoke Bardas entered with the Governor of 
 the Prisons. 
 
 Xiphilin's brother exclaimed : 
 
 "You here — and Michael Psellus!" he cried in 
 evident fear. 
 
 Then Romanus thundered his gathering rage. 
 
 "Bid them begone," he shouted. "Despatch them 
 out of my sight, Malthus, or I shall forget that 
 they are old, and dash their heads together!" 
 
 "Holy God !" gasped Bardas, "do you know who 
 speak to you!" 
 
 Xiphilin drew Psellus away. 
 
 "Come," he said. "Ours the familiar reward of 
 well doing, ill repute. The man is mad." 
 
 He turned once more to Romanus. 
 
 "Think better of it, soldier," he urged. "Ask 
 yourself again what are we to you?" 
 
 "Rank enemies and traitors while I draw 
 breath," replied the other. 
 
 "Then earn your fate, noisy fool," answered 
 Michael Psellus. "Worse than fire would light you 
 down to Dis, if I had my way." 
 
114 EUDOCIA 
 
 Xiphilin drew his angry companion aside. 
 
 "We need waste no more words here. Let us 
 seek the soldiery. They must tear him out of 
 prison against his will if it can be done." 
 
 In a moment the pair were gone, and through 
 the silence that followed, Romanus panted like a 
 furnace while Bardas and Malthus stared at him. 
 
 "Dogs! Mongrel dogs!" roared Diogenes, while 
 Bardas groaned. 
 
 "Like enough you'll die for this," he said. "My 
 brother knows many things, but never how to 
 pardon." 
 
 "A rascal — a cunning, loathsome rascal, Bardas 
 — a traitor to heaven and earth, I tell you !" 
 
 "Hold your tongue, man! The walls have ears. 
 Your strength is an infant's when opposed to him. 
 His intellect pierces all mysteries, disarms and 
 crushes all foes. He has the first brain in the 
 Empire." 
 
 "None need fear a knave," answered Romanus, 
 growing more calm. 
 
 "All will soon fear Xiphilin, and for very good 
 reason," replied Malthus. "He has now chosen 
 to become a Statesman and handle higher matters 
 than the Church. A time is coming when Xiphilin 
 will twist this nation round his finger like a ring; 
 
THE PRISON 115 
 
 and they who bend not to his will are fated to be 
 broken. Nicephorus knows it." 
 
 "Why came the Patriarch to you, Romantis?" 
 asked his old friend. 
 
 "Unless he and that cursed writer lied, I die to- 
 morrow," answered the soldier. "They say that 
 she has willed that I pay for fire with fire. Because 
 my heart burned and men saw the flame, now must 
 my body burn. Yet do you, who know her, credit 
 that?" 
 
 "To burn you — oh, monstrous crime!" cried 
 Bardas, "oh, most unqueenly crime! Yet, if they 
 told you so, it is true enough. God pity the un- 
 fortunate wretch who wakes her anger." 
 
 "To burn alive!" exclaimed Mai thus, "that was 
 never sentence of Eudocia's." 
 
 He left them then, and Romanus continued. 
 
 "I looked into her eyes," he said; "I plunged 
 into their steadfast depths. There was no murder 
 there." 
 
 "But trust her not and hope nothing," urged 
 Bardas. "She's a most ungrateful woman — aye, 
 and cruel as hell. Even I have smarted under her 
 scorn. I am her Protostrator, as you know, and it 
 is pretty generally granted that never monarch had 
 a better. The world acclaims my mastery of horse 
 
116 EUDOCIA 
 
 and hound, and all things pertaining to every royal 
 sport. Nobody has the wit to make such hunting — 
 I am a Mmrod; and on horseback, as you can tes- 
 tify, it is as though you saw a centaur — man and 
 horse one." 
 
 "She does not love your capers?" 
 
 "She is cruel," repeated Bardas. "Not only be- 
 fore my official accomplishments, but in a matter 
 personal and sacred to myself. I am espoused to 
 Theodora — the first confidante and favourite of the 
 Empress. They were children together, and now 
 that girl is the dayspring of my life, the very breath 
 I draw. The world for her is empty without me, 
 and we pine an hour apart. Yet, Eudocia, well 
 knowing what we are to each other, cares not a jot 
 for our passion. She hates love, as many others do 
 who have not tasted it; and hating love, hates 
 lovers also. Thus your case is the blacker, for she 
 will neither forgive nor forget the thing you did. 
 She has a heart of ice under her affectation of sym- 
 pathy. Indeed I think she'd banish me for espous- 
 ing Theodora, if she dreaded not my brother." 
 
 "She dreads no living creature," answered 
 Romanus. "She was not made to fear ; but terribly 
 she errs to drop Nicephorus now. All soldiers know 
 it. Given his guile and craft to hold back the 
 
THE PRISON 117 
 
 Turks a few months longer, while we made haste 
 to build " 
 
 "His head is shaved," replied the sportsman. 
 "He has become a priest. He is very calm, and 
 by no means so weary of life as you might suppose. 
 He'll much lament your murder, comrade, for 
 murder it will be. And bitterly I shall mourn it, 
 as a vital loss to myself, besides a disaster for the 
 State. We've had good days together, Diogenes. 
 I'm somebody, however — yes, somebody, thank 
 God, and I will do what a man may to-morrow. 
 Eudocia loves my betrothed, if indeed she loves 
 anybody but herself, and Theodora shall plead for 
 you. Her voice hath a quality to dissolve a flint. 
 It is small, yet as sweet as a wood dove's. Oh, what 
 a wicked sin, Romanus, to speak slightingly of me 
 in Theodora's ear! She stood beside the Empress 
 at Court when you were tried. I marvel you did 
 not observe her. But I have her picture. It lives 
 beneath my left nipple, as near my heart as 
 possible." 
 
 Bardas drew up a miniature that hung round his 
 neck upon a little golden chain. 
 
 "She's beautiful," admitted the other, regarding 
 Theodora's radiant features where they smiled 
 from a little tablet of ivory. 
 
118 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Far lovelier than the queen," declared Bardas, 
 "and of a far nobler nature and spirit." 
 
 He restored the picture to his heart, and made 
 farewell. 
 
 "I shall yet storm the Court for your life, and 
 flout the personal peril of so doing. But if nought 
 avail against her and my terrible brother, then — 
 then, old friend, do not forget me and Theodora 
 when you come to Heaven." 
 
 § 2 
 
 Romanus stood for a little while when the prat- 
 tler had departed. 
 
 "There's a lie thrusting its poisonous tongue in 
 my affairs," thought he. "And how to fight a lie 
 with both hands tied behind me — who can do 
 that?" 
 
 He turned from the table and went to the win- 
 dow. Moonlight rained silver over the sea, while 
 far away, Prinkipos, amid the Isles of the Princes, 
 rose faint and dim. 
 
 Here stood the general in the darkest moment of 
 his fortunes, stunned with the horror of what he 
 had heard, yet hardly believing it, while in his 
 heart burnt a new and strange emotion. Nothing 
 
THE PRISON 119 
 
 had, indeed, been further than real love from his 
 mind when he spoke the idle words that now 
 threatened to destroy him; but since they were 
 spoken, since he had actually been called to answer 
 them and stand before the wronged Eudocia, he 
 was, in truth, fired by a fervour of passion. Into 
 his virgin heart it stormed tempestuous and won- 
 derful — the revelation of woman; but it was seen 
 and felt on the brink of his grave, where now he 
 stood. He did not lose all hope,, for he was a san- 
 guine spirit; but his ambition rose no higher than 
 at first: to die at the head of his armies. What 
 reaction, and what impression the courage of him 
 and his trenchant speeches, so frank and free, had 
 created within the mind of his Empress, he did 
 not consider. She had, indeed, spoken of tortures, 
 but not, he remembered until he himself had whis- 
 pered of kisses, thereby most certainly earning the 
 promised flames. Yet, as a child can sometimes 
 read a woman better than may a man, so his im- 
 pression, that his Empress bore him no fatal ill 
 will, was not mistaken. He clung to it uncon- 
 sciously. 
 
 He debated with his eyes on a little ship, that 
 crept dark-sailed against the moonlight; then 
 Malthus reappeared, and with him he brought a 
 
120 EUDOCIA 
 
 stunted creature who wore a dark mantle and a 
 peaked cowl. 
 
 It was Saurus, who carried a parcel wrapped in 
 black cloth. 
 
 "What tiny man are you?" asked Komanus, as 
 the dwarf sat down panting, after traversing many 
 steps with his short legs. 
 
 "One that yields not to wealth, nor power, nor 
 beauty," answered the Lizard; "and being so sane 
 is naturally called lunatic." 
 
 "Saurus, the poor Court dwarf, has come with 
 a mandate," explained Malthus. 
 
 "Why 'poor/ you red ruffian? What in your 
 grim lot makes you pity mine? Dwarf — soldier — 
 gaoler — are we not the self -same earth?" asked the 
 Lizard. 
 
 "Yes — when we are back in earth," answered 
 Malthus; "but while we play our parts, a man may 
 pity a midget." 
 
 "Why? Where is the special privilege to stand 
 six feet off the ground and groan for ever under the 
 cares that are demanded of so much humanity?" 
 
 "They are a part of manhood, shrimp," answered 
 Romanus. " ? Tis a sign you deal with a man when 
 you can put a man's burden upon his back." 
 
 "Or a camel, when you can load it with a weight 
 
THE PRISON 121 
 
 worthy of a camel. So wags the world, Diogenes. 
 I much hate work and yet am made to work, while 
 you, hungering for detestable toil, are denied it I 
 sigh for peace; you think only of wars. Yet I am 
 wrong there, for if you had dreamed of nothing but 
 your business, you were not here now. And yet I 
 am wrong again, for is not love every proper man's 
 business at least once in his life?" 
 
 "As for peace, little fellow, that's a taste easily 
 acquired," admitted Romanus. "But only if you 
 lack ambition. There should be no peace when you 
 are doing man's work — whatever it may be. Peace 
 is stagnation. To be left in peace is to be slighted ; 
 to be sent to peace signifies that your work is done. 
 I'd rather use my life than waste it." 
 
 "Most lives are wasted in the using," answered 
 Saurus. "But I'm here on business, great general. 
 There is a festivity at Court to-night, and a swift 
 chariot waits my return. I bring a message from 
 Eudocia." 
 
 "Happy little mite, and much to be envied! 
 What is her blessed will, my atomy?" 
 
 "No, no, I am not the actual messenger. I come 
 only to prepare his way. By no gate does he ap- 
 proach, nor ask the leave of Mai thus. Here are the 
 lad's wings." 
 
122 EUDOCIA 
 
 He opened his parcel and dragged out a rope- 
 ladder fashioned of ivory and silk. 
 
 "This," explained the Lizard, "must be lowered 
 from your casement. So he'll mount. But, look 
 you, make it fast, for the boy to climb it is one 
 counted very dear unto the Empress." 
 
 "Is there, indeed, a lad dear to her?" asked 
 Romanus. 
 
 "Her son, Prince Michael, doubtless," said 
 Mai thus, "but surely he ?" 
 
 "Fear not. He is my charge, and I'll have no 
 pranks in the moonlight for a coming king, even 
 though a rope-ladder is more stable than a throne," 
 said the dwarf. 
 
 "Do I hear true, that I must die?" asked the 
 prisoner. 
 
 "As true as you're born, soldier. Mayhap of 
 her imperial mercy, she's sending you the means 
 to quit without help from the hangman." 
 
 Romanus took the ladder. 
 
 "How if I tarry not for her messenger, and use 
 this rope to take my leave of Mai thus?" he 
 asked. 
 
 The red man laughed ; but he did not fear. 
 
 "That costs my head," he answered. 
 
 "Nay, this gossamer was not meant for a man 
 
THE PRISON 123 
 
 elephant," answered the Lizard. "Wait in peace 
 and sooner trust even women than the sea, for they 
 have hearts sometimes: Marmora has none." 
 
 "Why, if indeed it is so, must Eudocia take his 
 life, Lizard?" asked Mai thus. 
 
 "By way of boon if that's her will," replied the 
 other, "since no man's happy till this plaguing 
 breath is out of him. But why suppose her merci- 
 ful? He has committed notorious crimes, and the 
 Empress perchance knows that she will best de- 
 stroy him by using him, and punish with life in- 
 stead of death." 
 
 "That is all I pray," declared Romanus. 
 
 "Then more fool you, for all your six feet of silly 
 brawn. You dared to declare love and she was the 
 last that heard of it. But he who eats figs before 
 they're ripe must get a blistered mouth, great 
 Diogenes, even though he be as good and beautiful 
 a piece of innocence as yourself. If I were she, I'd 
 devise a pretty torment for you. I should employ 
 you upon a task so difficult, so delicate, so cursedly 
 dangerous, that death itself were luxury compared 
 with failure." 
 
 "Are these her purposes, or your jest?" asked 
 the general. 
 
 "Our royal one I think was suckled by a tigress," 
 
124 EUDOCIA 
 
 answered Saurus. "She is terrible when she is 
 roused — terrible and swift. The Caesar's growing 
 bald : that's well for John Ducas, because only so, 
 when the time comes, may he escape shaving in 
 his turn." 
 
 "And not the first who lusted for the diadem 
 and found a tonsure on his pate instead," growled 
 Malthus. "But you talk treason." 
 
 "While others act it," said Romanus. 
 
 "Shut the casement," continued the Governor of 
 the Prisons, "and save your nostrils, Marmora 
 breathes foul in her sleep." 
 
 The ladder had been lowered, and its last rungs 
 were lapped by the wavelets that broke a hundred 
 feet beneath. 
 
 "This city supplies the several scents and 
 stenches of the world," declared Romanus. "All 
 that are sweet and all that are sour drift through 
 your streets. I pant for the open marches, Malthus 
 — the smell of woods, the fragrance of the thyme 
 and mastic and myrtle — aye, and the reek of flesh- 
 pots upon camp-fires. Your city-bred wretches 
 know not even the savage glory of hunger." 
 
 "Life is but fume and perfume," said the Lizard. 
 "I could reduce to a whiff of odour everything we 
 call existence, and reckon life in terms of the nose. 
 
THE PRISON 125 
 
 Keep watch by the casement, prisoner. A black 
 pinnace with a golden beak, and bank of twenty 
 oars at midnight." 
 
 "It's midnight now," declared Malthus, as the 
 dwarf prepared to depart. "Can you find your 
 way, Lizard?" 
 
 "My way !" cried Saurus. "Did I not fester here 
 for six good months, and waste a summer with 
 your red beard for telling the truth to Emperor 
 Constantine about his scholarship? To be jester 
 to a monarch without humour — what a fate!" 
 
 He was gone, and Romanus spoke from the 
 window. 
 
 "The sea's alive with little ships to-night," he 
 said. 
 
 "Pray God it will not be alive with enemy's 
 triremes before the Birth of Christ comes round 
 again," answered the other. Then his prisoner pro- 
 claimed an approaching pinnace. 
 
 "Here she comes like a black dragon — tearing a 
 silver line through Marmora!" 
 
 Malthus turned to the window. 
 
 "I hate these silly pranks," he said. "What are 
 doors for?" 
 
 "Windows are doors if the Empress wills. 
 They're here," answered Romanus. Then, as the 
 
126 EUDOCIA 
 
 great vessel backed her oars and presently drifted 
 under the rope-ladder, he shouted a caution to an 
 active youngster who had already seized it, and was 
 preparing to ascend. 
 
 "Have a care, boy ! Go slower — a monkey takes 
 more heed. Steady — you've got a mile to climb yet 
 before you're safe." 
 
 He kept his eye on the small, black figure ascend- 
 ing, and spoke to Mai thus. 
 
 "He's swaying like a spider on a thread." 
 
 The Governor of the Prisons had bent from the 
 window. 
 
 "A royal pinnace sure enough," he grunted. 
 
 "Leave me then with the lad. If I have need of 
 you I'll summon you." 
 
 "No craft, Romanus?" 
 
 "A soldier's word, my friend. Well you know 
 that you can trust me. If my mistress wills me 
 free, you shall be satisfied of the order before I 
 obey. Go rest and sleep." 
 
 " 'Rest and sleep !' " growled the gaoler. "How 
 do I sleep while you keep this sea-borne company? 
 Prisoners sleep better than those set to watch 
 them." 
 
 A face appeared at the window, but it was 
 
 .U. 
 
THE PRISON 127 
 
 masked under a black cap, from which flashed a 
 solitary scarlet feather. 
 Romanus offered his hand. 
 
 § 3 
 
 As Malthus went out, the climber came through 
 the window and leapt to the floor. 
 
 "Safe, my young night-hawk," said the soldier. 
 "A mariner must you be to climb a rope like that. 
 I feared we had no sailors left." 
 
 He saw a slim, neat and youthful form in a 
 page's costume — all black and close-fitting, save for 
 a purple scarf about the breast and the feather in 
 the cap. More than that he saw. 
 
 "Good God in Heaven!" he cried, then he fell, 
 as though stricken through the knees, and made 
 obeisance. 
 
 Eudocia took off her mask and flung it down 
 impatiently. 
 
 "How did you know?" she asked. "Saurus told 
 you, and shall suffer for it." 
 
 "Blame him not, Majesty. Your eyes, not the 
 dwarf, told me." 
 
 He rose and stood before her with bent head. 
 
128 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Can eyes speak?" she asked. 
 
 "In Persia they would forget the sun and wor- 
 ship them if you were there. Have I not seen them 
 already? How should I forget?" 
 
 She surveyed him, but steadily and without 
 suavity. 
 
 "Guess why I have done this," she said, and he 
 answered that he could not. 
 
 "Because I want to look at a man," she declared, 
 walking to a chair beside the table and flinging 
 herself into it. 
 
 "Are there no men at Court, Majesty?" he ven- 
 tured, answering her dark eyes by standing to his 
 height and crossing his great arms upon his breast. 
 
 "Did you see any? Nay, you need not pose and 
 strut, Diogenes. It is not breadth and height, nor 
 bone and muscle, that build men. They share the 
 stuff they're made of with the creatures who go on 
 pad and wing — more beautiful and worthy than 
 human kind. Your speech, not your shoulders, 
 proclaimed you a man to me. They use you well?" 
 
 "They serve me well; there's only one can use 
 me, Majesty. That's my Queen ; and since she has 
 deigned to fly hither by night, like a rare migrant 
 bird, I pray her to let me speak, and then she shall 
 learn how God has put this deed into her royal 
 brain." 
 
THE PRISON 129 
 
 "I very well know it was the thought of my 
 God," she answered, though not with conviction. 
 
 "And why? To save your throne against two 
 dark rogues who plot its instant downfall. Do you 
 know that the Caesar aims at sovereignty?" 
 
 "Poor brother John," she replied, almost with 
 pity. "He aims at nothing higher than to hide his 
 byzants, save his vintage, prosper his treasure ships 
 and live in peace. They've thrust this upon him in 
 the name of righteousness, to gain their own ends. 
 His terror, not his conscience, sides with them." 
 
 "Since you have willed I am to die," said Ro- 
 manus, "again I implore that you will let me fall 
 fighting for you alone. Grant that much, Eudocia 
 Augusta. Waste no wood on me ; faggots are better 
 burned to cook your meat than roast your slave. 
 Who should eat me? You may yet need the sticks 
 for your winter hearth, and wish them back again." 
 
 She puzzled at these things. 
 
 "Who spoke of faggots?" she asked. 
 
 'Tour first minister and his Beatitude, the Patri- 
 arch of the East. They seek to save me from your 
 avenging hand if they can." 
 
 He still spoke lightly, for his heart leapt, and he 
 knew that he was saved. More, perhaps, than that 
 he knew, yet could not have found words for the 
 dim hint of such a revelation. Indeed, he doubted, 
 
130 EUDOCIA 
 
 even while a conviction slowly took shape in his 
 bewildered brain. The times were free and spa- 
 cious. It was little wonder that even a queen 
 should amuse herself in secret thus; but for no 
 prank was Eudoeia's nocturnal adventure under- 
 taken. He felt convinced of that. 
 
 "They meant that you should thank them for 
 your life, not me, and for gratitude take arms 
 against your rightful lord," she said. 
 
 "Let me sweep their heads off their necks!" he 
 cried. 
 
 "To save your life from me, who thirsted to take 
 it, and bring you to your soldiers, that you might 
 turn your blade against a woman and drive her 
 down into darkness." 
 
 "The knaves knew me not," he answered. "How 
 should they know soldierly honesty when they 
 saw it?" 
 
 "Some might weep at this," declared Eudocia, 
 looking into his face. "I laugh, for the net they 
 spread is doubtfully strong enough to catch my 
 feet." 
 
 "Let my sword cut it," he urged; "bid me and 
 my legions deal with these traitors, Majesty." 
 
 "There is only one way by which soldiers can 
 get the better of statesmen, Romanus Diogenes; 
 
 & 
 
THE PRISON 131 
 
 and we have not reached that way as I think. 
 Nicephorus, before he fell from grace, warned us 
 that they of our own household were our foes. 
 Would that we could have trusted him." 
 
 "You were wrong," he said. 
 
 "How do you dare to say that we were wrong?" 
 
 "I dared to love you," he answered. "Little 
 matter else what I dare. You were deluded, and 
 will terribly err to destroy him." 
 
 She considered. Once a relenting gleam hovered 
 on her mouth, but she banished it. Then, to his 
 joy, she became personal. 
 
 "Soldier, you were a fool," she began. "Not first 
 for loving me — that was your own mad affair — but 
 for blazing abroad your love in common ears. For 
 that I well may punish you. Had you told her 
 most involved — why then, at least, your crime had 
 been hidden from an outraged world, and she might 
 have found a way to forgive. How can she now? 
 What do you know of love — a being dedicated only 
 to war?" 
 
 "Nothing of love I know, save that I love you," 
 he answered. "With such a love, Eudocia, that 
 giant though I am, all made of steel and marble, 
 my knees shake while I stand before you." 
 
 "Sit then. I would not have you shake. But it 
 
132 EUDOCIA 
 
 is a touch of ague belike? Our city breeds fever on 
 summer nights." 
 
 "Not ague looses my joints and makes them 
 tremble in adoration," he answered. "When I 
 looked on your divinity, my love was created, for I 
 have never loved a woman till now. It sprang out 
 of your eyes, broke chrysalis and soared as high as 
 heaven's gates in one passionate terrific moment. 
 
 At a flash, being so near I saw " he stopped and 
 
 sighed. 
 
 "What did you see?" 
 
 "The ineffable." 
 
 "Have all my soldiers such flowery tongues?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "No tongue can speak what I saw then," he an- 
 swered. "Yet you demand to know, and I must 
 strive to tell. Behind the awful symbols that you 
 held, beneath the crown that flashed like a rainbow 
 on your glorious head, I saw — a woman — the first 
 that I had ever seen to understand. Then the rest 
 was as nothing. There only remained the fairest 
 wonder made by God in some moment of supreme 
 inspiration. I saw the dew upon her lip, the violet 
 deeps of her eyes, and the lashes that bent to wor- 
 ship them; and I saw her bosom lifting as she 
 breathed, and her hands, that made the orb and 
 
THE PRISON 133 
 
 sceptre coarse and clumsy against their heavenly 
 workmanship. And I knew that all living men 
 must love and adore such a woman though they 
 died ten thousand deaths for it. I was human, 
 therefore I loved ; and my heart has made songs of 
 joy and thankfulness ever since, that it should have 
 lived to love before it ceased to beat. 
 
 "And still I adore you, with a passion far greater 
 than myself, Eudocia — a passion so immense and 
 immortal, that when I'm dead and gone it must for 
 ever remain and haunt your royal side undying. 
 Yea, when the sunshine breaks a cloud, to pour 
 gold upon your path ; when the trees whisper and 
 fold you in their murmurings; when the birds 
 break into sudden song of worship over your head ; 
 or when some stream utters its liquid music at your 
 feet, answering your unspoken thought, as quiet 
 waters will; then know henceforth, the light and 
 song and little voices are Romanus." 
 
 He lowered his head in his hands, and she looked 
 at the close, curly hair under the lamplight. 
 Unknown to him she shut her eyes and smiled a 
 moment ; but never yet had he seen her smile. For 
 a few seconds she did not reply, then answered, 
 though without any sign that he had interested her 
 save by his statement of a fact. 
 
134 EUDOCIA 
 
 "You, too, found a woman in the purple? The 
 Patriarch made the same sorrowful discovery 
 after you were gone to your doom. And harshly 
 he rated me for daring to be a woman." 
 
 "Unfinished wretch !" 
 
 He stretched out his arms over the table 
 until they nearly touched Eudocia. She looked 
 down upon his beautiful hands, palm upward, ex- 
 tended towards her. 
 
 "Light of Heaven! when you came to be the 
 Empress, did you cease to be a woman?" 
 
 For the first time her voice shook, and she could 
 not trust her eyes; but she escaped by pretending 
 mirth. 
 
 "You are finding out as quickly as you can," she 
 said. "Rash boy, you should be trembling, instead 
 of which you're — you're making love to me." 
 
 "Love! Think it not," he answered. "This is 
 but humble talk between a slave and his Queen. If 
 I made love, I should make it as I make war, 
 Majesty. I should not twitter then, or coo like a 
 turtle. I could never mince and ape and dance 
 about a woman. The she that I loved would soon 
 find herself in a whirlwind. But now my fires can 
 never burst to flame. I'm modest, meek — a peni- 
 
THE PRISON 135 
 
 tent at your footstool. I speak upon deaths cheer- 
 less brink. I loved a memory first — a dream, re- 
 member — the dream of you beside my dead lord. 
 But now I love reality and am dumb." 
 
 Then suddenly he heard her laugh — like a chime 
 of bells. 
 
 "If this is to be dumb — God help those who hear 
 you chatter," she said. 
 
 But he shook his head, and in his turn preserved 
 solemnity. 
 
 "Speak yet again," she said, and he obeyed, but 
 dared not share her mirth. 
 
 "I am a ghost already, and with a hollow voice I 
 tell the dangers which I may not share, and from 
 which I may not shield you." 
 
 But in his soul he began to know better now. 
 She also knew that he comprehended. 
 
 "Proceed — if I must hear," she said ; "and banish 
 your melancholy: I have enough of hollow voices 
 and hollow heads at Court. Let me win something 
 from this adventure that I could not have won 
 without it." 
 
 Romanus took the hint. 
 
 "Your clothes," he explained. "What infinite 
 peril — what insensate risk! There's not a single 
 
136 EUDOCIA 
 
 woman in all the city but would hunger to kiss such 
 a paragon of pages !" 
 
 "I love my black, and often don it on moony 
 nights," she answered. "It was a thought I had, 
 to play at being free sometimes. A queen should 
 see her subjects close — in their homes if she can — 
 even when the homes are prisons." 
 
 "What say you? 'To play at being free?' Are 
 you not free as air?" 
 
 "I free? The men cooling their heels in the pin- 
 nace and cursing my delay are freer than Eudocia. 
 You are more free than I." 
 
 "Who then is free on earth?" he asked, and her 
 gleam of happiness faded. 
 
 "The Patriarch. With him lies the supreme 
 power in Constantinople now. His chains are 
 heavier than mine ; all the vital secrets of the State 
 are in his brain alone. Already there is much 
 hidden from me, though not what they design for 
 me. And now, through all this far-flung realm 
 there's not a man, Romanus, to defend my right 
 and challenge Xiphilin. Not one, I say, and I dare 
 you to deny it. I, who might have done so much 
 with manly aid! We're sinking into nothingness, 
 soldier; we shut our eyes to the movement and 
 progress of the world, nor is there anything alive 
 and precious in us to compensate for the loss of 
 
THE PRISON 137 
 
 power. Our Art is dead ; our Science is dead ; our 
 Letters never lived." 
 
 "They had no chance to live," he answered. "We 
 substitute for books the homilies of monks, and 
 condemn as false to Christ all that wise men 
 thought and told us before Christ came. But to 
 know our evils and to see them evil is a brave step 
 to curing them, Majesty." 
 
 She brightened again. 
 
 "How closely we agree, Romanus! I have often 
 wondered, did fortune lead me to a man, whether 
 he would see eye to eye with me." 
 
 "You living light !" he cried. "You jewel of the 
 world, speak no more of lost liberty to me. You 
 are omnipotent and, had I lived, my eyes had 
 seen " 
 
 "Why so much set on death?" she asked. 
 
 "Not I: it is you who are set upon my death," 
 he answered. 
 
 She made a show of weighing the problem still. 
 
 "My little son told me that you should be par- 
 doned. He said that if I slay a great general for 
 loving me, the others may grow anxious. To let 
 you live because you love me — is that enough to 
 make your life worth living? Just to love — love 
 from afar, and labour?" 
 
 "It is enough. Thankfully I'll live — live to teach 
 
138 EUDOCIA 
 
 the nation to fight for you ; live to make your people 
 bless and your enemies fear; live to right your 
 wrongs and exalt your glories." 
 
 "And what the price of labours so gigantic?" she 
 asked, and he lost his opportunity, being for the 
 moment blinded by promise of liberty and his own 
 ruling passion. 
 
 "Leave to perform these things is payment rich 
 and rare," he answered. "I pant for the field, 
 knowing our daily loss and the gathering contempt 
 of our weakness that will nerve the arm of your 
 foes when we do meet. The Turks laugh at us in 
 the heart of Phrygia, Majesty. So loaded are they 
 from our treasuries that their women carry their 
 spears and swords, leaving men's hands for 
 weightier things. But give me the power and I'll 
 drive them beyond Euphrates at a breath and, with 
 my second wind, deliver all Armenia. It can be 
 done even now." 
 
 She brought him back to herself. 
 
 "Queens there have been — brave, wedded queens 
 who went to war," she said. 
 
 "Such glorious women braved vast perils and 
 bore themselves the guardian angels of their 
 armies," he answered. 
 
 "I, however, may not wed, Romanus." 
 
THE PRISON 139 
 
 "Let me but hear the name of man linked with 
 your own, and he shall die by this hand !" 
 
 She flashed at this, but it was only sheet 
 lightning. 
 
 "Who, then, are you to roll your eyes and claim 
 the right to jealousy?" she asked. "What if I love? 
 How can any woman's heart beat bravely on if it 
 be empty? Must the mightiest in all the East be 
 also the loneliest? Have I no skill to love, think 
 you — I, who could love grandlier far than any 
 woman I have ever seen, aye — and be as big a fool 
 as any maid over some stupid man?" 
 
 "A stupid man, Majesty!" 
 
 "A stupid, idiot of a man, if I say so. Are not 
 all men stupid?" 
 
 "Eudocia Augusta could never love a dolt," he 
 assured her. 
 
 "Tell me the measure of a man I might love 
 then." 
 
 He considered, and was honest with his ideal. 
 
 "One fearless in thought and act; one not un- 
 comely and worthy to stand by such an Empress — 
 a man who loves the realm only less than he loves 
 you. Against the heart of such a hero you'd be 
 lonely no more, Eudocia ; but he must be a man of 
 huge patience and self-control, of a sound judg- 
 
140 EUDOCIA 
 
 ment, and a living force in world affairs. A states- 
 man and soldier both should he be ; and since few 
 are such, then let him prove modest enough, wise 
 enough, to court the ablest men and make them 
 serve both you and him — not for fear, but loyal 
 love. At home your husband should be such an 
 emperor; and, when he took the field, the nation's 
 light and saviour. And higher yet, above all else 
 that I have named, he must be one of honour un- 
 spotted, to stand with a single heart and pure 
 before his God." 
 
 She bowed her head, rejoicing to hear him speak 
 thus. 
 
 "Even such a man is within my eyes, Romanus," 
 she declared after a moment's silence. Then she 
 lifted her face and regarded him steadily. 
 
 "Within your eyes?" he echoed, rather blankly. 
 "Where is there such a man?" 
 
 "Look in them and find him," she said. 
 
 He leapt to his feet panting. 
 
 "I such a man, Divine One?" 
 
 "And more and more than that !" she cried. 
 
 "Dayspring of Light P' swore Romanus almost 
 glaring upon her. 
 
 But she held up her hand. 
 
 "And yet I fear," she said. 
 
THE PRISON 141 
 
 "Call it not back, call it not back !" he implored. 
 "Let the blessed words remain, my morning star !" 
 
 "A queen alone of all unhappy women must 
 confess love if she feels it, since no subject dare," 
 explained Eudocia calmly. "And so we lose a joy 
 our humblest fellow women command by right — to 
 hear themselves entreated. But I blame you, and 
 you must heed me. It was no sign of greatness not 
 to know your greatness. I liked you far better as 
 my fearless prisoner at Court. The minds are only 
 second-rate that undervalue their own gifts — dear 
 heart." 
 
 "Not for me to question, Majesty," he answered. 
 "I'll never doubt my genius again." 
 
 "What then?" she asked. 
 
 "You know." 
 
 " 'Fearless;' you said — 'fearless in thought and 
 act.' " 
 
 "I love you." 
 
 " 'Against the heart of such a hero you'd be 
 lonely no more.' " 
 
 "Come to it then!" 
 
 She approached him; but he knew the tremen- 
 dous strength of his arms, and was gentle. 
 
 "All that I have shall be dedicated to you, 
 glorious love," he whispered. "My hand, my brain, 
 
142 EUDOCIA 
 
 my soul. I will be your lightning to let loose on 
 the round world — your sword, your shield, your 
 adoring lover too." 
 
 She shut her eyes and was silent a moment in his 
 embrace, then put him away and sank into a chair 
 by the table. 
 
 "Love is a perilous glory," she murmured, hold» 
 ing her hands over her breast. "Your awful fire is 
 beating at my heart, Komanus; I hear the music 
 of the flames — I hear them, I hear them." 
 
 He knelt beside her, but did not touch her again. 
 
 "This, then, is heaven," he said. "They are 
 right who tell us a man's heaven is of his own 
 making." 
 
 "I burn you ! The torch is yours." 
 
 "Wed me, Eudocia, and the earth will lie van- 
 quished at our feet. No power can withstand us 
 two." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "My oath — my sacred oath, Romanus." 
 
 "Bid me throw St. Sophia's to the earth, and 
 tear the parchment out of your accursed Patri- 
 arch's hands." 
 
 " 'He must be one of honour unspotted, with a 
 single heart, and pure before his God.'" 
 
 "Is it unclean that we set out to sweep away the 
 
THE PRISON 143 
 
 unclean?" he asked. "Let this oath, spawned from 
 callous craft, be vanquished and annulled. Make 
 me the minister of righteous Heaven to free you." 
 
 " 'Heaven helps the wisest,' so said Nicephorus," 
 she answered. "Are you wise as well as brave, my 
 treasure?" 
 
 "He was wisdom, light, and air to you. And 
 therefore the rats and beetles hated him and strove 
 for his destruction." 
 
 "My Michael loved him too, Romanus. Infancy 
 has subtle senses that adolescence loses. I begin 
 to fear that I did a great wrong to cast him down." 
 
 "They did the wrong, not you ; but you can right 
 the wrong. Oh, my love, my crown, my glory, call 
 him back to serve you yet. He is here — at hand 
 — under this roof. Awaken him — bid him come to 
 you and hear this world-shattering thing that has 
 happened to us." 
 
 "He will not forgive me, Romanus. He can- 
 not," answered Eudocia ; but the man felt no fear 
 on that account. 
 
 "He'll not forgive you, because he never blamed 
 you. He understood that you had no choice. His 
 philosophic mind works with that large wisdom 
 given to the old, who still can laugh. He has no 
 illusions and yet enjoys the full tide of life. His 
 
144 EUDOCIA 
 
 thoughts are ever upon his Empress. Last night 
 we played at chess, and he declared the game 
 greater, because purer, than war or politics." 
 
 "Who won?" asked she. 
 
 "Nicephorus did," admitted Romanus — "not, 
 however, very easily. I kept forgetting everything 
 but the Queen." 
 
 "Summon him then, since you command." 
 
 "I entreat; I do not command. He's shrewder 
 far than Psellus, subtler than Xiphilin, honester 
 than either. They would never have risen to face 
 a fallen fortune as this man has done. So big he 
 is, that he makes his fate look small." 
 
 Romanus struck the bell upon the table, while 
 Eudocia declared that she hoped little from her 
 fallen minister. 
 
 "Men are at their worst wakened from sleep," 
 she feared. "He will be dull and slow. Shall I 
 reveal myself?" 
 
 "That you cannot fail to do : he'll know you fast 
 enough," promised the soldier. 
 
 § 4 
 
 When Malthus entered, Eudocia, who had re- 
 sumed her mask, addressed him. 
 
 "Nicephorus, the fallen minister, must now 
 
THE PRISON 145 
 
 attend Romanus here. Brook no excuse. If he 
 sleeps, waken him. I come from Court on urgent 
 matters." 
 
 The Governor was in bad humour. 
 
 "No doubt, my chatterbox. Since when has the 
 Empress chosen to send urgent matters by Hop-o'- 
 my-Thumb through windows?" 
 
 "Hasten — hasten, Malthus, good friend. Every 
 moment is precious," declared Diogenes ; and when 
 the other had departed, Eudocia turned in triumph. 
 
 "He knew me not," she said. 
 
 "Nicephorus must." 
 
 "I'll wager he'll never guess," she answered. 
 
 "What will you wager?" 
 
 But then her animation waned. 
 
 "Nay, we must be serious, for I see no hope, my 
 brave one. What, after all, can he do that we 
 cannot think? Our love is crossed and counter- 
 crossed. It is marred by many dark and fatal 
 stars, Romanus." 
 
 "We will forge our own fate, not leave it to the 
 spinning of distant stars," he vowed. "You are 
 my star and I am yours. Let the rest grow pale; 
 I do not fear them." 
 
 "Twin stars — you and I — to circle lovingly, yet 
 never, never meet," she sighed. 
 
 "Such love as ours will crush the obstacles 
 
146 EUDOCIA 
 
 between, for it is mightier far than they," he an- 
 swered. "Do you not feel unconquerable? Your 
 love would make a mouse a hero ; then what shall it 
 make of me? Rest sure that soon we shall blaze 
 together in one united orb of power. Read only 
 that in the stars, Divine One." 
 
 And then Mcephorus appeared. He wore a long 
 close gown, with sandals upon his feet, and his 
 white head bore the tonsure. He yawned — a 
 drowsy, old man, wakened out of slumber. 
 
 "What now, Romanus? Is not noon of night 
 sacred to these ancient bones?" he asked. 
 
 "Here's one full of weighty secrets — a messenger 
 direct from Eudocia Augusta," declared Romanus. 
 "He wills " 
 
 Then the Queen interrupted him. 
 
 "Nicephorus must hear me," she said. 
 
 At her voice the old man started and did instant 
 obeisance, while Romanus smiled. 
 
 "Would I had made that wager," he whispered. 
 
 The fallen minister drew his gown about him. 
 
 "I am in no case for audience," he murmured, 
 now wide awake enough. 
 
 "How did you know me?" she asked. "Your eyes 
 are dull with sleep, you yawned in our faces." 
 
 "But my ears are quickly wakened, Majesty. 
 
THE PRISON 147 
 
 Your voice, like our cathedral's silver bell, has a 
 note that once heard we do not forget." 
 
 She took off her mask and faced him. 
 
 "I am here to beg your forgiveness, Nicephorus. 
 Is it mine?" 
 
 "There is nothing to pardon, Majesty," he an- 
 swered. "Effect must follow cause. I'm not too 
 far gone to know that." 
 
 "Then we three are friends," she declared ; "and 
 we two command you, implore you, sustain and help 
 us in this great moment, with the past forgiven." 
 
 "Poor, patient past!" he said. "May it forgive 
 mankind as willingly, for we need the past's for- 
 giveness often enough." 
 
 Then he turned to impatient Eudocia. 
 
 "But you have shaved my head, Majesty." 
 
 "The brains are in it still,. Mcephorus." 
 
 "An ancient head should be kept warm." 
 
 "Nay — brains are better cold. We need a brain 
 of ice and steel. Romanus Diogenes and I are one 
 now — one in heart and hope — and love. Such 
 things will happen to a woman, Nicephorus. And 
 well I know they do not happen without the 
 Almighty will them. There's only you to trust. 
 You are our pharos above the storm that's brewing, 
 the last of the tradition — all vanished now, but you 
 
148 EUDOCIA 
 
 — that gave us half the world. You must return; 
 you must come back to me before it is too late. 
 The Caesar's being driven to the throne like a sheep 
 to the slaughter; the soldiers shout and roar for 
 my Romanus." 
 
 "Is there no later news from Court, Majesty'. 
 
 "I have told you. We love — this man and I are 
 one henceforth, to breathe and see and think and 
 act. That is the stupendous event." 
 
 Mcephorus regarded them with deep respect. 
 But he said nothing. 
 
 "Sit here between us and speak to us; cheer us, 
 encourage us; say this is good that I tell you," 
 entreated Eudocia. "You should rejoice to know 
 that I am happy. You must be happy too, 
 Mcephorus, and use your mighty wits to make us 
 safe, as well as happy." 
 
 "Farewell, Mount Athos!" exclaimed the old 
 man, half to himself. "So fate is no respecter of 
 persons, and would pick me out of her play-box 
 again — to make another game for the gods." 
 
 He took a chair beside the table, while the Em- 
 press reclined at his right hand, and Romanus sat 
 upon the table at his left. For a moment there 
 was silence, then Nicephorus addressed them. 
 
 "Man and woman, you stand upon a precipice," 
 
THE PRISON 149 
 
 he said. "Therefore look back and hear me pa- 
 tiently awhile. When first the Greek was driven 
 to ally himself with Rome he was free still. But 
 soon he cringed, for most of his heroes' blood was 
 drained away, and lost his honours, until Vespasian 
 laughed at him, taunted him, and truly said that 
 he had forgotten how to be free. Severus threw 
 all down ; Caracalla built up again, after a fashion. 
 Then came Gallienus and put us to the sword once 
 more. But, like a shorn hayfield, we sprang from 
 under the steel, until in splendour rose Constan- 
 tine's city on Byzantium's ruins. Our past mocks 
 our present, and our story sounds the echo of an 
 echo. It tells one tale: our good and evil came 
 from our own virtues and vices. Therefore, first 
 estimate the quality of them you call your people." 
 
 "The people are black cowards. One laughs at 
 them for fear one should spit on them," said the 
 soldier. 
 
 "None save an idiot laughs at human nature, 
 Romanus Diogenes. Satire's self is but a small and 
 fruitless cleverness. The scourge cures no wounds, 
 and satire has little excuse since the Saviour of all 
 could don flesh and dwell amongst us. Men are 
 black and white upon the surface only. A hero and 
 a coward may jog in one skin and chance alone 
 
150 EUDOCIA 
 
 decide which part the man is known by. Even as 
 the sun itself, the noblest nature will often suffer 
 most absolute eclipse. What, then, is the Greek?" 
 
 "The Greek is indeed two men rolled in one," 
 admitted Romanus. 
 
 "Nay; he is three," declared the Empress. "I 
 love him, but I have often found that he'll tell one 
 story with his tongue, while his mind plots a sec- 
 ond, and his act, when he is driven to action, may 
 accord neither with speech nor thought. We need 
 to create character and singleness of purpose and 
 make our people trustworthy." 
 
 "To create character — a royal wish," said 
 Mcephorus. "But for enduring achievement the 
 material should be fine. 'Unstable as water, he 
 shall not excel. , " 
 
 "Then Eudocia Augusta must mix the magic 
 wine of her spirit with that water !" cried Romanus. 
 
 "Good. But listen first — here on the threshold 
 of your tremendous adventure. A priest may 
 preach. She's at the summit now, and all ways 
 that lead therefrom are downward." 
 
 "I'll stop upon the summit then," answered 
 Eudocia. "Justinian's Empress said that a throne 
 was the most glorious of sepulchres. I will reign 
 on it, or die on it." 
 
THE PRISON 151 
 
 "Are you sure, Majesty, that it is worth the 
 sleepless and eternal pains? The throne has ever 
 been a precarious, slippery perch in our Byzan- 
 tium, and the royal bird a mark for many fowlers, 
 being still a sort of master prize for the sons of 
 men to gambol on. Quit it and you enjoy a peace 
 of mind denied to monarchy; but cleave to it and 
 policy must ever fight at odds with conscience in 
 such a heart as yours." 
 
 Eudocia displayed some indignation. 
 
 'Would you have me slink from my destiny for 
 'peace of mind'?" she asked. "That peddling ideal 
 of shopkeepers and citizens offers no charm for 
 the Empress of the East." 
 
 "Power is the last temptation of greatness," 
 answered the old man, "and the lust of it, like a 
 false dawn, will often hoodwink and deceive the 
 sharpest eyes." 
 
 "Are you turned monk inside as well as out, 
 Mcephorus?" asked Eudocia blankly. 
 
 "Fear must be your companion," he continued; 
 "sleeping and waking the infamy of the infamous 
 hangs heavy upon your pillow, till the story's told 
 in one more drop of blood on the scroll of our grim 
 history." 
 
 "Thou ancient coward!" exclaimed Romanus. 
 
152 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Was it for this the Empress called you back to 
 her?" 
 
 But Eudocia knew Nicephorus better than 
 Diogenes. It was his custom to paint the gloom 
 of any picture first and come gradually to the 
 brighter passages. 
 
 "Enough!" she said. "We've heard the monk 
 until we are weary of him. Let him return to his 
 former trade and be our dearest, first and best of 
 ministers. The hooting of an owl is no sound for 
 lovers' ears." 
 
 Nicephorus smiled. 
 
 "I'm Empress and remain so," she continued. 
 "I'll reign, though my realm is desolation, and 
 dust and ashes all I have left to rule. I will reign, 
 Nicephorus, and I will love ; and fear shall not dare 
 to keep me company, for love casts out all fear. 
 My heart I give into the keeping of this man; my 
 soul rests where it always shall. The hand of 
 Romanus, as I think, now holds the salvation of 
 our State, and you are called to strengthen it — you, 
 our sole trust — philosopher and statesman in one — 
 Plato's ideal of which you spoke." 
 
 "Two taskmasters for one slave," he said. 
 
 "Romanus trusts you, and he does not err." 
 
THE PRISON 153 
 
 "I thank him for his good esteem. So we have 
 come to the entrance of the theatre and must choose 
 our mask — the tragic or the comic." 
 
 "Tragedy surely lies before us," declared 
 Eudocia, but Mcephorus shook his head. 
 
 "I'm grown too old for tragedy. Let veterans 
 go smiling in gentle sunset's laughter, Queen." 
 
 "You misread the times," answered Romanus. 
 "The wind that blows for Michael Psellus and the 
 Patriarch should be sharp-edged and steely. To- 
 night they came laden with lies to me." 
 
 "To-night they came?" asked the old man. 
 
 "Even so. They told me that the Empress was 
 fixed upon my immediate death, and bade me fly 
 at once to my Varangians, that with the armies I 
 might cast down the monarch and lift Caesar to the 
 throne." 
 
 "And what said you?" asked Eudocia. 
 
 "I had looked into your eyes," he answered: 
 "Only a miracle saved them from death. They 
 hopped off — black toads — to spit their venom else- 
 where." 
 
 "Such men are something too slight for tragedy," 
 mused the old minister. 
 
 "It is not them I fear, but Heaven," explained 
 
154 EUDOCIA 
 
 the Empress. "My oath to the royal dead darkens 
 the way, not these living men. Beside Komanus 
 they are shadows." 
 
 "But why the oath, Divine One?" asked her 
 lover. "They who have been forced against their 
 will to swear, swear nothing." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "I will not escape so. I knew what I was doing. 
 How say you, Mcephorus? Think ere you speak, 
 for two lives and an empire hang upon your answer. 
 Is there any way?" 
 
 "In the affairs of the spirit, the Patriarch must 
 be allowed all powerful," he answered. 
 
 "But there are good spirits and evil," argued 
 Romanus. "If a man is subject to the devil, as 
 Xiphilin is, then he is not omnipotent." 
 
 "So love can quicken even martial wits it would 
 seem," answered the elder. "Perchance your cap- 
 tain has the key, Eudocia, for if we hold the Patri- 
 arch is about to cast his vote with the black angels 
 of treachery, then we more righteous folk may well 
 propose a question to his claims." 
 
 "The price! The price!" she cried. "Even the 
 devils have their price." 
 
 "The Patriarch is not a devil, Majesty. He is 
 a very great and able man — a genius of many parts. 
 
THE PRISON 155 
 
 But he is vain, as men of genius often are. Pride 
 is his only vulnerable point, and the more so 
 because he knows it not." 
 
 "Then fling him out of power, and since you a 
 priest would be, Mcephorus, let Eudocia Augusta 
 elevate you to the high priest's place, so that this 
 cursed fraud on parchment may be burned once 
 for all." 
 
 Nicephorus shook his head. 
 
 "I did wrong to commend your wits," he an- 
 swered. "Such fiery deeds would quickly send you 
 where your Varangians could not help you." 
 
 "Why say so?" argued Eudocia. "If you, 
 Nicephorus, were Patriarch and held it a seemly 
 thing " 
 
 "Ah ! There's the hitch, Majesty. If I were his 
 Beatitude, the Patriarch of the East, being not a 
 vain man, and armed where Xiphilin is open, then 
 who knows but that I should hold you to your oath? 
 Let me be therefore and meddle not with my Roman 
 conscience. But we have to deal with Xiphilin, and 
 the case is a thought hopefuller." 
 
 "Oh, blessed man, you know a way !" 
 
 "Since Xiphilin is Xiphilin, Majesty, a way is 
 within the bounds of possibility — I say no more 
 than that" 
 
156 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Kiss our hand, Mcephorus !" she cried, and he 
 obeyed. 
 
 "The journey's long," he said, "and we must go 
 in patience if we would reach the goal sought by 
 you twain. The Fates, however, for once seem 
 bent on comedy — at least for some of us — and 
 Psellus and the Patriarch, though men with little 
 laughter in them " 
 
 "The way — the way?" begged Eudocia. "Why 
 did you keep it hid? This should have been told 
 in our ear long, long ago." 
 
 "Why, Majesty? You never desired a way, nor 
 could I have answered till now ; for even if I knew 
 that some day you'd love, I could not guess where 
 the royal heart would come to rest." 
 
 "You knew that I should love?" she asked. 
 
 "Because you're perfect woman," vowed Ro- 
 manus. "Did I not well to pray that you would 
 trust this subtle friend? But let him speak on. 
 Can we uncut such a knot without the edge of my 
 sword?" 
 
 "Without it, or not at all. Swords will not save 
 us. Xiphilin alone hath power to serve the Em- 
 press now, and he's a man of peace." 
 
 "He'd rather die than loose me," she declared. 
 
THE PRISON 157 
 
 "But when you wed, you wed the armies, and are 
 impregnable, Eudocia," explained Romanus. 
 
 "How may that be done, dear general, if only 
 Xiphilin can let me wed? Even had he the power, 
 which he would deny, he would refuse us:" 
 
 "Depose him." 
 
 "But can the lady depose her conscience?" asked 
 their counsellor. 
 
 "Forward then," said she. "We trust you with 
 our lives and loves, Mcephorus, and you have 
 promised that a way exists within the power of 
 royalty to follow." 
 
 "Agreed; but there's sour powder for your deli- 
 cate tongue, Majesty, ere you feast." 
 
 "We shall share it," she answered. "And first, 
 before I move a step, Romanus Diogenes must be a 
 free man." 
 
 "Indeed, no, Queen. The soldier stays here," 
 explained Nicephorus. "Into this labyrinth we 
 must wind like a serpent, the clue, alas! guile. 
 Take a false step and our comedy is turned to 
 tragedy, our art all marred. Romanus shall be held 
 in pawn for your mercenaries. The legions may 
 play their part in the last act, not the first." 
 
 "What of John Ducas?" she asked. 
 
158 EUDOCIA 
 
 "He, good soul, must have the dust in his eyes 
 a little longer. Trouble not for him, Eudocia. 
 He'll presently thank you on his knees for saving 
 him from the terror of the purple. Intrigue shall be 
 met with intrigue, and yours the move." 
 
 "Intrigue is no weapon for imperial power," she 
 argued, but he convinced her to the contrary. 
 
 "You cannot set an army in array to fight a 
 brace of weasels; we do not attack vermin with a 
 phalanx. There are things only to be destroyed 
 with smoke, and mean enterprises that may vanish 
 under the wind of honest laughter." 
 
 "Eagles do not catch flies, Mcephorus." 
 
 "But flies can buzz about an eagle's eyrie; and 
 flies can sting. Our task, then, to draw their stings. 
 Grant your Patriarch's a wasp, then this most 
 holy hornet keeps a pot of honey stored in his 
 nest — is it not so?" 
 
 "My oath to wed no more." 
 
 "To beg that honey is our plan, upon such plea 
 as his invincible piety may grant." 
 
 "Beg to him!" cried the Empress. "Beg to a 
 lynx or tiger to lose its living meal ! Vain words. 
 You grow sleepy, Mcephorus. You'll only win my 
 oath when Xiphilin is dead." 
 
 "Indeed, no : that would be to lose our last hope, 
 
THE PRISON 159 
 
 Majesty. He must not die, else all is lost. Xiphilin 
 dead is Xiphilin spoiled and useless for our purpose. 
 Listen now to what shall happen. Let a few days 
 pass — then call me back to Court, but not to office. 
 As a forgiven man I return, in charity with all — 
 my foes as well as friends. Meantime Michael 
 Psellus remains Prime Minister, and presently 
 puzzles to know where I stand. He will smell a 
 plot, but must not taste it until the hash be ready. 
 Diogenes remains here under the shadow of your 
 darkest ire. If he escape, my trouble and your love 
 are both wasted. It is, indeed, vital that he should 
 be fast bound — why, I shall tell you when I return 
 to you. And now let me pray the Divine One to 
 depart and seek her rest. I have to speak with 
 Bardas." 
 
 "The Protostrator — what of him?" asked Ro- 
 manus. 
 
 "He, of all worthless men, shall not be dragged 
 into this matter, Nicephorus," declared the Em- 
 press. 
 
 "Nothing is worthless," answered the veteran. 
 "There's a proverb, Majesty, that, hoard it long 
 enough, and every piece of rubbish will be found to 
 have its use. The turn has come for Bardas." 
 
 "But he is a man of no parts," she answered — 
 
160 EUDOCIA 
 
 "a vain, futile thing, who lives for hawks and 
 hounds, and shows in the hippodrome. He has 
 won my own Theodora, and it is a grief and shock 
 to me that one I love can love a Bardas." 
 
 "The friendships of our dearest companions often 
 shock us," answered Mcephorus. "One may need 
 self-control and patience to stomach our friends' 
 friends. But do not hate your showy Bardas. He 
 can help us vitally — though not with hawks and 
 hounds. Theodora, you say, has plighted her troth 
 with him?" 
 
 "She has, but won no smile from me. She 
 knows that I despise him." 
 
 "Good. That helps us. You must forbid this 
 match, Eudocia. You must decline to sanction any 
 such betrothal." 
 
 But she shook her head. 
 
 "Ask not that, though like enough you ask well. 
 She loves him and I, who know what love means — 
 I could not part them." 
 
 "Yet I think you must," he insisted. "If only 
 for a season you shall break it off implicitly. Like 
 enough the maiden will bless you in time to come. 
 But you have leave to be subtle, not violent. Your 
 part shall be to say no finite word, yet by your 
 actions ignore this engagement, as though, for you 
 at least, it did not exist. Bardas will do the rest, if 
 
THE PRISON 161 
 
 I know him. We must not deny the gifts of the 
 gods, for they are not offered twice. Therefore 
 smile upon your servant Bardas. Court him; de- 
 mand his constant company; order his instant re- 
 turn, and favour him handsomely when he has re- 
 turned. Bardas, believe me, is vital to the comedy. 
 He was, perchance, born for these events alone." 
 
 "Shall I trust Xiphilin's brother?" she inquired 
 doubtfully. 
 
 "You are not asked to trust, but only to smile," 
 answered the old man. "We're often called to 
 smile where we trust least. But Bardas will re- 
 spond readily enough, and make the way easy. 
 Bestow large friendship upon him and ready com- 
 panionship." 
 
 "I hate to play so mean a part," she said. 
 
 "The game is nothing, the stake everything, 
 Eudocia. An Empress of the East plays many 
 parts; that is her destiny." 
 
 "Come with me now then — now — now, Nice- 
 phorus. By stealth return with me, and burst upon 
 the Court to-morrow with the sun!" 
 
 She was already hastening to the window, but 
 her ancient counsellor laughed. 
 
 "You shaved my head and would you break 
 my neck?" he answered. "There is a mist on 
 Marmora, and I have a catarrh. I'm tired and 
 
162 EUDOCIA 
 
 very sleepy, Divine One ; nor is ray work done yet. 
 Say yonr farewells and begone. Meantime we 
 live for you." 
 
 He turned his back upon them, and lifting his 
 hand put his great chin in it, while Eudocia picked 
 up her mask. 
 
 "For Heaven's sake be careful, my little life," 
 implored Romanus. "It is a cruel drop." 
 
 "Bid me be patient, not careful," she said, with 
 her hand in his. 
 
 "The immortal only can trust time," he an- 
 swered; "but I must be patient too. Would you 
 were in your pinnace." 
 
 "My body will guard the treasure hidden in my 
 soul, Romanus." 
 
 He embraced her, and she rejoiced for a moment 
 in his arms. 
 
 "God guide your feet," he murmured. 
 
 "Has He not guided them to you?" she asked. 
 
 "Blessed silk and ivory to bear that load sub- 
 lime," he whispered. "Oh, how I grudge it them. 
 Do the boatmen know they rowed the Queen?" 
 
 "Not they. Farewell, Mcephorus. Come quickly 
 to us." 
 
 "And gladly come when all's done here, Divine 
 One," he answered. 
 
THE PRISON 163 
 
 Then carefully she descended, and at sight of her 
 swaying above them the drowsy rowers made ready. 
 
 "She's like a little night-moth, twinkling in the 
 silver of the moon!" murmured Romanus, and his 
 words roused Mcephorus from reverie. 
 
 "Your name's unlucky," he said. "Two have 
 reigned Romanus — First and Second. But neither 
 tempted the smile of fate. Think you, soldier, you 
 are great enough for so tremendous a fortune?" 
 
 The other, however, barely heard him. His eyes 
 were upon the descending figure. 
 
 "She is safe!" he exclaimed at last. "The pin- 
 nace shoots away. We are alone. Is it a dream, 
 Mcephorus? Am I a living, or a sleeping man 
 this night?" 
 
 The other considered the question. 
 
 "A just distinction, for to sleep is not to live. 
 Yet must we sleep to live and dawdle a third of our 
 short time in shadowland, that we may employ the 
 rest. Mayhap our Maker regrets that we do not 
 slumber more. Eight hours of every day blotted 
 out; and I like ten myself, when Hypnos meets me 
 in a generous mood." 
 
 "I'll not eat nor sleep again until " began 
 
 the soldier; but Nicephorus stopped him. 
 
 "Make no rash oaths ! See what a coil the royal 
 
1S4 EUDOCIA 
 
 oath has brought to us, and go to tout bed now. 
 Sleep may not be your friend, but it is the best 
 we old men can count upon." 
 
 "Shall I be weak while Eudocia is made of cour- 
 age? Shall I sleep while she labours?" 
 
 The other struck the bell upon the table before 
 he answered. 
 
 "Draw up the ladder and, if you must wake, 
 spend the night kissing the rungs her feet have 
 trodden. You will soon be free should I win my 
 bout with the Patriarch ; but at your peril make any 
 attempt to leave the prisons sooner. Xo, not if 
 Eudocia's self command it. Mark this gem." 
 
 He held up his left hand, whereon appeared a 
 solitary ruby set in massive silver. 
 
 "That and that only must guide you forth. 
 Now get you gone. I have to do with Bardas be- 
 fore I slumber." 
 
 Bomanus drew in the rope-ladder and spoke as 
 he did so. 
 
 "Shall I not hear what you must tell him?" 
 
 •Not half a syllable. Mad lover that you are, I 
 should find your fingers on my throat, or his." 
 
 Diogenes stood in doubt at a speech so strange. 
 
 "I trust you utterly," he said. 
 
 **You must, my general," answered the old man ; 
 then Mai thus entered. 
 
THE PRISON 165 
 
 "I was asleep," he grumbled. Then he looked 
 round the chamber. 
 
 "Wheres Hop-o"-my-Thumb? Hast eaten him?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "Swallowed the flittermouse between us," re- 
 plied Xicephorus. "We shared the creature's heart. 
 And now bid our gallant Protostrator attend me. 
 I have a message. for him." 
 
 "Know you not that it is near two of the morn- 
 ing, Mcephorus? Do you set speech with that 
 windy nothing before your wholesome rest?" 
 
 "We must mortify our weary flesh a little longer, 
 and suffer fools gladly if they stand as high as 
 Bardas. Be cheerful. Hell return to Court to- 
 morrow." 
 
 "He's only fit for Court," answered the gaoler. 
 
 Then, with Romanus, he departed and left the 
 statesman alone. 
 
 § 5 
 
 Nicephorus sighed, bent his brows, coughed and 
 patted his chest. Then he shut the window and 
 returned to his chair. He was eating grapes and 
 planning his attack when Bardas entered in a 
 dressing-gown, the curls of his beard screwed for 
 the night. 
 
166 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Not abed, old man? Remember monks keep 
 earlier hours than courtiers." 
 
 Mcephorus regarded him thoughtfully. 
 
 "The Arabs," he said, "hold that our fate is 
 written in the sutures of our skulls, which is Allah's 
 caligraphy, graven in the womb, and beyond human 
 wits to cipher ; but we know better, and guess every 
 man's fate lies in the brain his skull conceals." 
 
 "What then?" asked Bardas. 
 
 Still Mcephorus surveyed him with the deepest 
 apparent admiration. He plucked a white grape 
 from a bunch and held it under the light of the 
 lamp. 
 
 "No doubt your nimble mind has marked that 
 this, our world, is very like a grape, Bardas? It 
 holds both sweet and bitter ; day lights it upon one 
 side, while upon the other darkness shadows its 
 rotundity. Both reach ripeness — one on the vines 
 of heaven, the other in the vineyards of earth, and 
 both gradually grow to their perfection. Presently 
 they will shrink and all their treasure die. A 
 bunch of grapes, or galaxy of worlds — Nature holds 
 sun and berry alike." 
 
 "Confound you! Have you roused me from my 
 first precious sleep to talk nonsense, Nicephorus?" 
 exclaimed the indignant man. 
 
THE PRISON 167 
 
 "When a grape is ripe, that is the time to eat it, 
 Bardas. They say that you are vain and pride 
 yourself upon more gifts than God has granted you ; 
 but I think not so. You do not guess the half that 
 lies within your power. No need to tell you when 
 grapes are ripe." 
 
 "You speak truly. Indeed I am modest as men 
 go, Nicephorus. I know my gifts — only a fool is 
 blind on such a subject. But my powers are 
 slighted." 
 
 Nicephorus turned the leaves of a volume upon 
 the table. 
 
 "Do you read Lucretius, friend?" he asked. 
 
 "Read a poet — I, that am one? No; I read in 
 nothing but the book of life." 
 
 "And skip a deal of that — most men do. Hence 
 often come their deserved misfortunes. But much 
 we may not miss. Strange that such piercing eyes 
 — eyes that can see the towering hawk when it is 
 lost to common sight — should have missed such a 
 page of life as lies open before you now." 
 
 "Not at all strange," answered Bardas. "Am I 
 not mad with love? What matters all the arid 
 wilderness of open pages when a man reads two 
 eyes aright?" 
 
 "In love? If that indeed is so, then should you 
 
168 EUDOCIA 
 
 be safely caged with Diogenes. For are you not as 
 great a man as the soldier?" 
 
 "And if I am?" 
 
 "Why, then, no doubt you'd love as high and aim 
 as high. Only the highest would content you." 
 
 "The Empress? Good God, what senile dream 
 is this, Mcephorus? I love her not — in your ear I 
 do not even like her. Who should know her hard 
 heart better than you, now cast into a monastery at 
 her decree? I am betrothed to her confidante and 
 first friend, the adorable Theodora. We only live 
 when lip meets lip. But Eudocia hates to lose the 
 girl, and frowns upon our love with most cursed 
 selfishness and cruelty. I almost fear to speak 
 before her, though no coward, as all know." 
 
 "Well may you fear, you witless fool! Indeed 
 you are a madman — blind, deaf, rapt away from 
 the terrific reality. It was time — more than time 
 that we had secret speech together, for, in the 
 struggle near at hand, I much depend upon you." 
 
 "You shall not tempt me from my duty. You are 
 a prisoner and I am set to guard you. There can be 
 no plots here, Mcephorus, and no intriguing. You 
 have yet to know me if you dream of escape." 
 
 "Bat ! Owl !" answered Mcephorus, laughing in 
 his face. "It is you who are bound hand and foot ! 
 I am as free as air." 
 
THE PRISON 169 
 
 "A prisoner? I? What folly is this? Have the 
 grapes made you drank?" 
 
 "Credit me, Bardas, and face reality. Your life 
 may hang upon it," said the elder quietly. 
 
 "My life! I, that avoid politics as I would a 
 snake? What have I done?" 
 
 He was alarmed and his dark eyes rolled, while 
 he clutched his bedgown about him. 
 
 "What you have done, and what you have not 
 done, make together a mountain of your short- 
 comings, my poor soul. Did not the Empress will 
 me here to watch on you and mark how you took 
 exile from her? Is it not for the sake of this night's 
 work that I have endured these prodigious dis- 
 honours? Come close. None save the crickets, 
 that chant so huskily, must hear us. A mighty 
 matter indeed ! See, the moon sinks on Marmora, 
 Bardas, and the very mists slumber. So shall all 
 the world sleep, but you and I. Know, then, I 
 still serve the realm — actively — and Eudocia — and 
 you." 
 
 "For God's sake link not our names," implored 
 Bardas. "There's danger in it — awful danger for 
 me." 
 
 He was trembling. 
 
 "You, too, might be a statesman if you would — 
 and more than a statesman," answered Nicephoras. 
 
170 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Your sagacity, I think, should match your cour- 
 age, Bardas. Nor is Eudocia without these quali- 
 ties. None knows better than she — perhaps none 
 so well — that the State has ever hated woman's 
 rule." 
 
 "They rise young Michael with the Caesar, and 
 send her to a nunnery. It is as good as done, and 
 I shall not pretend a regret I cannot feel," declared 
 Bardas. 
 
 "Whether indeed they do so will largely depend 
 upon you and me," answered Mcephorus, shaking 
 his head with solemnity. "Eudocia has learned all 
 particulars of their disloyalty. But we — you and I 
 — to us she looks in her need. What think you 
 quickened the imperial wits?" 
 
 "You, doubtless, if you have no desire to see 
 her deposed." 
 
 "Nay, Bardas : a greater far than I, and Eros is 
 his name. She loves !" 
 
 "Romanus?" 
 
 "So well that he is here, and there runs a whis- 
 per abroad that he will die." 
 
 "That indeed is so," confirmed Bardas. "By 
 fire she slays him; I had forgotten. In any case 
 she could not love, and happily for men she may 
 
THE PRISON 171 
 
 not. Her oath draws her talons, and my brother 
 will see that she is never absolved from it." 
 
 "Who can tell?" asked Mcephorus. "True love 
 has always been a foe to the churchmen, and will 
 often find a trick to circumvent them. A strange 
 thing has happened — a great portent, and I wel- 
 come it as you will. There was but one man she 
 might have loved with any shadow of hope, and 
 the gods, all knowing, find that man." 
 
 His listener denied it vigorously. 
 
 "There's no such man in the world," he declared. 
 
 "I say he exists," replied Mcephorus, "and 
 Bardas is his name !" 
 
 The Protostrator reeled into a chair and 
 crouched there as though he had been a rat in a 
 trap. He held his hand to his forehead and stared 
 in horror at the speaker. 
 
 "Love me — Eudocia?" he gasped. 
 
 "That you should ask the question amazes my 
 mind," replied Nicephorus calmly. "No doubt this 
 wild-goose chase after her tire-woman has obscured 
 your natural perception. Yet can you have ignored 
 the tr^lc of her eyes — her pouts and frowns and 
 slights, her wayward moods to send you upon this 
 or that business, or change the time when you had 
 
172 EUDOCIA 
 
 planned your hunting? Could you misread direc- 
 tions sd clear, that only royalty had dared to give 
 them? Look back and reconstruct the past in the 
 gleam I shed upon your perilous darkness. Why, 
 man, this night her thoughts are on you, and I have 
 received a direct message from her!" 
 
 Bardas panted like a furnace; he mopped his 
 head and stared upon the other as though he had 
 been a spirit. 
 
 "Dear God!" he whispered, afraid to speak 
 aloud. "Did the Patriarch dream of such a tragedy 
 he'd banish me the kingdom, even if he spared my 
 life." 
 
 "The time has come to trust me, not Xiphilin — 
 to trust me and your own rare self, friend." 
 
 "Folly — annihilation — the darkness of death, I 
 tell you ! He's a thousand times stronger than you ; 
 and as for me, he'd crush me like a poor, innocent 
 insect if he heard of this." 
 
 "Do servants crush their masters?" asked 
 Nicephorus. "Your wits lag, Bardas. You shrink 
 below yourself a little. Here's a path straight to 
 the throne! Is that clear to your understanding? 
 With such a man as you at the head of the empire, 
 things strange and new and wonderful would most 
 surely happen. We, indeed, should hardly know 
 ourselves." 
 
THE PRISON 173 
 
 "But is it true — true that she loves me?" 
 
 "Only play your great part, and she will love 
 you even better than she does at this moment," 
 replied Nicephorus. "Rise to your destiny, my 
 heroic Greek, and answer this gift of fortune in the 
 voice of one who deserves it! Why, Bardas, both 
 fates and furies are upon your side. They leave you 
 little but a triumphal march. I see, indeed, no 
 more than one cloud upon your sky." 
 
 "Aye — a cloud with lightning in it for my head," 
 answered the Protostrator. 
 
 "Not so. It will be for you to wield Jove's bolt 
 henceforth. I only mourn for Theodora." 
 
 "If that were all," answered the other, "what 
 should she matter now? We forget the glow-worm 
 when the moon rises. A woman's nought, Nice- 
 phorus : I know them well enough. One woman's like 
 another; but an Empress — I cannot credit this." 
 
 "Your pride and ambition should surely help you 
 to do so. Why may not Eudocia love you?" 
 
 Bardas reflected. He was growing calmer, but 
 still lacked control of his voice. 
 
 "Of course you throw a light on many doubtful 
 things if this, indeed, is true," he admitted. "Her 
 hatred of my dallying with the fair girl ; her send- 
 ing me on duties that detained me from her sight — 
 these and a thousand other petulances that I have 
 
174 EUDOCIA 
 
 failed to read. What took her? My horseman- 
 ship? And yet she never praised it, But, though 
 one may admit, perhaps, the truth of this as not 
 very amazing, the thing itself is impossible ; she and 
 you must know that, Mcephorus. If my brother 
 were called away into a better world — if death 
 overtook him — then — possibly — but only so." 
 
 "You must not hope for any deliverance there. 
 Yet, if I have opened your eyes and inspired your 
 ambition, all is so far well," answered the old man 
 steadily. "A battle of the giants we shall have, 
 Bardas. And for the Patriarch, fear him not at all. 
 Leave him to me. Your part is pleasanter : to make 
 swift amends for your most dangerous oversight, 
 to play the gallant with all your charm and skill, 
 that you may win her swift forgiveness. Easy 
 enough will it be as you shall find. But take heed 
 at every step, my lad ; use all caution and the utter- 
 most sense that God has given you. It is a stu- 
 pendous task, even fate helping, to reach a throne. 
 Keveal your courage and hope high. The man who 
 courts a princess must work hard; therefore con- 
 cern yourself with her alone. Give heed to none 
 else, none other. Lastly, remember the fate that 
 overtakes the spider's husband." 
 
THE PRISON 175 
 
 Bardas shrank again and turned to pale from 
 red. 
 
 "Death !" he answered. "Why say you that?" 
 
 "For good advice. She is no spider, but has 
 high spirits. And first cool the old love gently, 
 firmly. Theodora, who thought you loved her, 
 must be undeceived. Your experience and natural 
 gifts will help you there. And one thing more. 
 That all may go as you would desire, meddle not at 
 all with politics. Set your heart only on Eudocia. 
 Take no thought upon me, or any man, and when I 
 presently return to Court, as visitor and friend, but 
 without power of office, do not bate your courtesy 
 to those who seem to rule — to Michael Psellus, 
 Caesar, the Senate. It must soon happen that the 
 soldiers, hungering for him, will clamour after 
 Romanus, seek him here and strive to get him. 
 But that shall not be, for did he guess that Eudocia 
 designed to lift you to the throne, he would smudge 
 you out like a mosquito. ,, 
 
 "Another peril! But happily he is to die at 
 once." 
 
 "Think nothing of him. This place is proof 
 against the Varangians, and we can win them at the 
 right moment to the side of the Empress." 
 
176 EUDOCIA 
 
 "When do I return to Court?" asked Bardas. 
 
 "To-morrow," answered the counsellor. "And 
 see that you do so. She'll welcome you and expect 
 a change of vision, now that this mighty secret is 
 dropped in your ear." 
 
 "Follow me quickly, I beseech you; I shall need 
 your voice and wisdom, if I am to rise to this dizzy 
 height," said Bardas. 
 
 "Fear not : I soon return." 
 
 "And now for yourself?" asked the younger, still 
 sweating heartily, and with a leaping pulse. 
 "These are amazing services, and I am beholden to 
 you for a change in fortune beyond my hugest 
 hopes. Of course you mean a bargain?" 
 
 "Why, of course I do. It was certain that you 
 would so regard it. All life's a bargain, Bardas. 
 Each huckster brings his basket to the market-place 
 and hopes to sell his rubbish to some fool. My 
 price can wait. I'll win it out of the time to come. 
 I aim at peace — at stern retrenchments and self- 
 denials for us all. Then a mighty stroke launched 
 on the Saracen. My highest dreams may depend on 
 your forthcoming achievements, and if only you 
 play your part, good shall follow." 
 
 Mai thus entered at this moment. He carried a 
 lantern. 
 
THE PRISON 177 
 
 "The soldiers are broke loose," he said, and even 
 as he spoke there came the distant murmurings 
 of many voices. 
 
 "A noise to frighten kittens," answered Nice- 
 phorus; but the Protostrator was perturbed. 
 
 "Are we safe?" he asked. 
 
 "The prisons are impregnable," replied Malthus. 
 "They want Romanus Diogenes. The murder's out, 
 I find, and the Varangians have heard he is to 
 die." 
 
 "Once he is dead " began Bardas; but 
 
 Nicephorus interrupted. 
 
 "Nay, leave him to Eudocia. Her opinion con- 
 cerning him will know no change. Go, seek your 
 rest against to-morrow. Malthus can assure the 
 legions that their general is not to perish." 
 
 "Yes, < yes, do that," urged Bardas, "then the 
 night shall know peace. It will calm them and 
 draw them off to their camps. To-morrow it is 
 certain, nevertheless, that Romanus must die, and 
 that will now be best. At daylight I withdraw 
 again to Court and leave you in sole command." 
 
 He bade Nicephorus farewell until the morning, 
 and departed. Malthus asked a question : 
 
 "Must the general die? Did Eudocia's messen- 
 ger bring that ugly news to him? I've seen many 
 
178 EUDOCIA 
 
 pass from here to death and wasted no sigh upon 
 them, but the Cappadocian " 
 
 "Fear nothing for him, save his escape," an- 
 swered Nicephorus. "Romanus is safe enough with 
 you; but yield him up to no demand, whatsoever, 
 until you have had speech with me." 
 
 The thunder of distant voices rolled through the 
 night, and Nicephorus continued : 
 
 "I'll speak to them; and, for your ear alone, 
 Malthus, I am here no longer as a prisoner, but 
 for purposes of state. Eudocia and I are again 
 at one." 
 
 "Thank God for it," answered the red man. "I 
 do not want you here, and would rather welcome 
 those you may send me than yourself. Come now 
 and speak from the outer walls to these barbarians. 
 They'll heed you willingly." 
 
 Nicephorus rose with a sigh. 
 
 "Sorry, sorry the stuff we mortal men are made 
 of," he said. 
 
 "Poor clay and coarse, most of us," admitted the 
 other. 
 
 "So coarse that few go perfect even to the firing, 
 Malthus. The potter mauls a thousand upon his 
 wheel for one that he turns true. If life be the art 
 of God, then why does He make so few master- 
 pieces?" 
 
THE PRISON 179 
 
 "Perchance in other worlds, if such there are, 
 the material is better." 
 
 Then Malthus extinguished the lamp and they 
 went out together, leaving only a pattern of moon- 
 light to climb the eastern wall and silver the ikon 
 that hung upon it. Landward the growling of the 
 soldiers lifted and lulled; then it broke into a 
 louder shout and sank back to silence, that 
 Nicephorus might be heard. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 
 § 1 
 
 The royal domain spread southerly of the palace, 
 and where the gardens of pleasure ceased a semi- 
 wild region extended to the vineyards. Here, in 
 this mediate space, lay a nook beside a knoll 
 whereon were scattered the remains of a little 
 sanctuary. To other times and other gods it 
 pointed, and in the midst of fallen pillars, where one 
 or two still reared to carven capitals of the grape, 
 there stood a ruined statue of Dionysus. The deity 
 had lost his arms, his breast and trunk were much 
 weathered, and moss was got into the vine leaves 
 that adorned his hair ; but still he possessed beauty 
 from the golden time, and revealed, in limbs and 
 face, a perfection unperceived by those who now 
 came and went before him. 
 
 Beneath the temple spread a little amphitheatre 
 of grass, while behind it rose a pine or two, lifting 
 
 their ruddy trunks through thickets of oleander 
 
 183 
 
184 EUDOCIA 
 
 and myrtle. For here ran a stream, and the flower- 
 ing shrubs flourished with their feet in water. 
 
 Now, near four o'clock of the afternoon, there 
 came the murmur of a brook and a louder murmur 
 and hum of human voices from the vineyards not 
 a hundred yards distant. There a thousand men, 
 women and children were busy gathering the royal 
 grapes, and to-day, following an ancient custom, 
 the Empress designed to visit the workers, make 
 festival, and move among them. Her resting-place 
 was to be this green space beneath the ruins, and 
 there, at sunset, the annual rite would end with a 
 procession of the husbandmen. 
 
 As yet the prelude of this entertainment had not 
 begun ; but now two men appeared at the meeting- 
 place and held brief speech before the arrival of 
 the Court. Michael Psellus and the Caesar came 
 together, and Mcephorus was the subject of their 
 conversation. Both looked anxious, and while the 
 historian was cold and reserved, concealing the 
 impatience that tormented his heart, John Ducas 
 made no attempt to hide care. 
 
 "Have you spoken with him again ?" he asked. 
 "He shows no enmity that I have observed, and 
 moves freely and cheerfully as of old; but that's 
 the man." 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 185 
 
 "We have yet to be sure that he feels enmity," 
 answered Psellus. "There's nothing visible as yet. 
 He vows that he is thankful to escape office, and 
 tells me that if it lies in his power to serve me, he 
 will do so. He angles for my purposes, but deftly 
 and with no indiscreet desire to know them." 
 
 "Is he content, then, to play looker-on and feel 
 the indifference he assumes?" 
 
 Michael Psellus shook his head. 
 
 "It is little likely. He never suffered passion 
 to cloud his plans. His patience would restrain 
 him. If he designs some counter-stroke — but what 
 should he design? He cannot fail to know that we 
 are right." 
 
 "He cherishes no personal hate, though we 
 planned his downfall openly." 
 
 "Why should he?" asked the statesman. "He 
 must grant that we had reason, for the proofs were 
 plain enough. But that Eudocia should have 
 called him back shows the man has not lost his 
 cunning. I would give much to know how he 
 achieved that. Once restored to her confidence, no 
 doubt he had the wit to prove the treaty made in 
 secret with Alp Arslan was no treachery — either to 
 the kingdom or the throne — but how did he win her 
 private ear? I do not find she favours him ; indeed 
 
186 EUDOCIA 
 
 my friends at Court assure me she sees little of 
 him." 
 
 "That is true enough," answered John Ducas. 
 "To me he shows a manner very urbane. He's 
 easy, humorous and mild. But one thing troubles 
 him. He told me frankly, touching Eudocia, that 
 in the ten days during which he was retired she 
 has changed. He finds her lighter and strangely, 
 unexpectedly given to folly." 
 
 "Trust him not," warned the other. "If he 
 thought her wrong he'd keep it hid. He knows 
 well enough what is afoot, but not the approaching 
 day and hour of it." 
 
 "But does he know?" asked the Caesar. 
 
 "Most certainly he does." 
 
 "Then he may approve — not for our sakes, but 
 hers. Is it not possible that, looking ahead, and 
 only concerned with her future happiness, he al- 
 ready feels that deposition will be best? To-day, 
 unless Xiphilin fail, we shall better judge his true 
 opinion. The Patriarch has speech with him pres- 
 ently, and will dig deep. He, too, goes in doubt 
 what means this return. He does not trust Mce- 
 phorus in anything, but is determined to probe him. 
 The old man made no demur, and willingly agreed 
 to a meeting." 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 187 
 
 "Has she spoken more of Romanus Diogenes?" 
 asked Psellus. 
 
 "She avoids the subject. There's a mystery 
 hidden there, for she is acting out of her character. 
 She was always quick in statecraft, and knows, as 
 well as we do, that it is folly to keep him in prison. 
 But thought of that man turns her to stone. I have 
 prayed her to release him, and so have you. Our 
 prayers, I think, preserve his life, but cannot win 
 his freedom. I had not thought she could be so 
 hard." 
 
 "Cannot Bardas serve him with her?" asked 
 Psellus. "He was a close friend of the general, 
 and used to brag about it. Now they tell me that 
 Bardas is taken into Eudocia's highest favours." 
 
 "Another mystery. She always despised the 
 man, as one of her intellect might well do; but now 
 she smiles upon him, and he walks two inches 
 taller." 
 
 "Nicephorus may know what's in her heart," 
 answered the Prime Minister. "I hate this crawl- 
 ing, baffling uncertainty ; but a week hence sees all 
 answered. When Eudocia's gone, Nicephorus shall 
 vanish too— but not to a monastery." 
 
 "He'll drop his mask to-day — if indeed he wears 
 one," said the Caesar. "Xiphilin is in earnest, and 
 
188 EUDOCIA 
 
 will not be content with jests at life. He'll burrow 
 to the bone and learn what Mcephorus truly feels 
 about the things that are to happen." 
 
 "His great forbearance is not all it seems — be 
 sure of that," replied Psellus. "I do not hope he 
 will declare himself on our side." 
 
 "Your sense should see the danger, if there be 
 one," declared the Caesar. "You have the genius 
 to don another's mental garment and so judge an 
 enemy's designs." 
 
 "I cannot don his mental garment," confessed 
 Psellus. "If he means to oppose he must have 
 power; but wherein lies any power to his hand, 
 seeing that the Senate and the army are ours? Yet 
 I do not trust him." 
 
 "Do you trust Xiphilin?" whispered John Ducas, 
 first gazing over his shoulder to see none might 
 overhear the question. 
 
 The younger frowned and hesitated before re- 
 plying; but an answer was not given, for now 
 suddenly appeared Michael Ducas with his 
 attendant. 
 
 Csesar smiled and took the boy's hand, while 
 Psellus saluted his future monarch. 
 
 "And has the Empress set out, Michael boy?" 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 189 
 
 asked John Ducas. "Yet I need not ask: I hear 
 her trumpets." 
 
 "They are coming, but the bonny hawks do not 
 fly to-day," explained Michael. "This is the day 
 of the vintage, and my mother will pluck red and 
 white grapes with her own hand, and the wine they 
 make will be royal. And we go among the people 
 and scatter money, and they sing their songs to 
 us." 
 
 "We shall be there," promised the Caesar. "Re- 
 member to find a rare bunch for me, Michael." 
 
 "So I will then, Uncle John," answered the 
 Prince, "but the best and biggest bunch of all I 
 find I shall keep for my mother." 
 
 The men departed to pursue their subject, and 
 Saurus spoke to Michael. 
 
 "Forget not to pluck for Theodora," he said. 
 "She will have none to pick for her to-day." 
 
 "I'm sorry — very sorry, Lizard ; but I'll not pick 
 for her. She's my friend no more." 
 
 "Why? You are fickle, Prince." 
 
 "My friends must be happy. Theodora's grown 
 strange and sad. I hate sad people — they are so 
 dull." 
 
 The guard entered and took open order about the 
 
190 EUDOCIA 
 
 glade. Then followed pages and servants laden 
 with cushions and rugs, tables and plate to set upon 
 them. Wine and fruit, cakes and sweetmeats were 
 spread out, and the place transformed as though 
 by magic. After ten minutes all had been com- 
 pleted, and a little silver throne set for Eudocia in 
 the midst. Then came the silver trumpets and men 
 on horseback led by the Protostrator. Eudocia 
 rode a black Arab, whereon her scarlet robe flashed 
 like a fire; Theodora, Maria and Euphrosyne also 
 rode, but Dame Irene came in a litter borne by 
 four. All dismounted as the Senate arrived, and 
 Eudocia welcomed old and young with animation 
 and a heart far lighter than her counsellors 
 guessed. For the elders were aware of the ap- 
 proaching stroke, and few believed that the Em- 
 press herself could be ignorant that her downfall 
 must now be a matter of days. 
 
 The Court assembled round the Queen. The 
 horses were led away. Having seen a purple awn- 
 ing quickly lifted, for protection against the 
 westering sun, Bardas took his place on a cushion 
 beside the throne. Irene was favoured with a 
 couch, but the rest sat or stood, while refreshments 
 were handed to all who cared to partake of them. 
 Then there was movement, and while they waited 
 Eudocia's signal for the vineyards, men and women 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 191 
 
 strolled together, some examining the mossy marble 
 Dionysus amid his fallen pillars, some walking 
 under the shadow of the myrtles, or plucking rosy 
 clusters of oleander bloom. In the sky was the first 
 tinge of evening gold, but the heat had not yet 
 abated, and Eudocia delayed awhile, to the sat- 
 isfaction of those old men who shared the 
 ceremonial. 
 
 § 2 
 
 "Come, Theodora, sit by me," said Eudocia, while 
 the many-coloured movement of her guests made 
 the dingle as bright as a rainbow. "We'll rest a 
 little while, then seek the grapes that Dionysus 
 sent to help the world's goodwill." 
 
 Her tire-woman, whose countenance was sad, 
 approached and Bardas jumped up with show of 
 courtesy to make room for her, while Eudocia 
 winced to see the pain in the girl's face. 
 
 "We'll speak together presently," she said. "I'll 
 bid them go without us." 
 
 But Theodora alike ignored her lover and the 
 Empress. She sat silent and melancholy beside 
 Eudocia's footstall. 
 
 Then it was that from the chatter about the 
 throne young Michael spoke. 
 
192 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Let me see the lovely dagger that my mother 
 gave you, Bardas?" he said. 
 
 The Protostrator handed him a brilliant toy set 
 with gems and having a haft and sheath of gold. 
 
 "Take care of the blade, my Prince; it has a 
 double edge," he said. 
 
 "It is not as sharp as mine," declared the boy. 
 
 "Shall you do aught with it but cut your nails?" 
 asked Saurus of the Queen's new favourite, and 
 Bardas, who hated the dwarf, having no ready 
 answer, scowled at him. 
 
 The people came and went, and certain eminent 
 men whom she had not yet welcomed were pre- 
 sented to the Empress. She was very gracious to 
 all and greeted her guests gladly. 
 
 "What of the royal vintage?" she asked Bardas. 
 
 "All that's good," he answered. "It flows 
 abundantly — a most generous year. There shall be 
 enough of your imperial, golden wine for all the 
 mighty of the East to drink." 
 
 "Pray we do not brew for our enemies. It is 
 their blood we should lap, rather than wine," 
 growled the Lizard ; and Bardas, who desired to be 
 even with him, scolded the little man. 
 
 "Weigh your words better, reptile," he said. 
 
 "Fear not. I learned to weigh them at my 
 mother's knee," answered Saurus sharply, "and 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 193 
 
 when I failed to weigh them I weighed her hand on 
 my ear. But no man shall weigh your words." 
 
 "And why not, imp?" 
 
 "Because they never weighed a poppy-seed, and 
 never will." 
 
 "Think not because you cannot understand it 
 that a word is of necessity light," replied Bardas 
 loftily. "Men do not always mould their meaning 
 to the wit of mice. The great must weigh their 
 words: it is a part of greatness to do so, knowing 
 what they utter will cast down, or raise up, and be 
 the voice of prophecy for lesser men to mark." 
 
 Eudocia smiled upon him. 
 
 "Bardas, your speech is ever native music, 
 whether you weigh your words or no," she said. 
 "Saurus flings his thoughts like stones from a cata- 
 pult, caring not what suffers." 
 
 "Indeed his aim is wild," declared Irene. "But 
 they promise that our armies shall drink blood 
 enough ere long." 
 
 "We have not yet forgot the road to fame and 
 glory too," said Bardas. 
 
 "A road seldom strewn with silken cushions, 
 however," snapped Saurus. 
 
 "Shall our throne never know glory and fame?" 
 asked the Empress; and Saurus replied: 
 
 "Glory and fame, Majesty? What are they? 
 
194 EUDOCIA 
 
 Glory's the lightning flash against a storm cloud 
 and fame the thunder-clap that follows. They make 
 us jump — that's all — and then both are gone, 
 helter-skelter, and clean forgotten in an hour." 
 
 "You tell of false glory and false fame, manni- 
 kin," answered Irene. "Fame is slow-footed; it 
 follows conquest from afar, tardily, doubtfully, 
 marking what is lost, what gained. Fame is a 
 cautious thing." 
 
 "Death and great deeds are nought to it," added 
 the solemn maiden, Maria. "No, nor wreaths of 
 oak and laurel. Long years must pass and a man 
 be dust before the world can tell the truth of what 
 his own generation thought too great, or held too 
 little." 
 
 "That is time's ultimate justice, Maria, not 
 fame," answered Eudocia. "Fame is a frenzied 
 thing, born of immense actions and the rise and fall 
 of dynasties and empires. It is a pulse of a nation's 
 heart, a tempest, a convulsion. It is the wail of 
 nations at the chariot wheels of conquerors; the 
 smile of the world; the universal tribute poured 
 out for saviours and heroes, alive or dead. Fame's 
 triumph song soars to the stars. Oh, would that 
 we might hear such music!" 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 195 
 
 "When God so wills, we shall," promised Bardas. 
 "Peace claims her victories too, Eudocia Augusta." 
 
 "And whither do they lead but to gorged sleep?" 
 asked Saurus. 
 
 "Sting no more, bitter midge," answered the 
 noble. "Leave politics: the game's not worth the 
 candle. They blot the purity and emasculate the 
 joy of life. Remember, too, there are spies behind 
 every grass-blade. Who can say, among those bent 
 heads hobbling behind us in the ruins, where 
 treason lurks? Yonder marble god sneers at the 
 pack of them." 
 
 Michael's treble pipe filled a silence. He sat 
 beside Theodora. 
 
 "Play at cat's cradle with me, Theo, till we 
 start," he begged. 
 
 But the lady shook her head. 
 
 "Nay, dear Prince. Ask Gregoria." 
 
 Michael snorted impatiently. 
 
 "You never grant the least small thing, Theo- 
 dora. Instead you mop your eyes, and soon you'll 
 cry all the blue out of them." 
 
 Theodora turned away at this rebuke, and 
 Eudocia, rising, concealed her friend's confusion." 
 
 "Away into the vineyards!" she said. "Let all 
 
196 I IDOCIA 
 
 :•.,. .in.l we shall quickly follow Despatch t lit* 
 guard, loo, Itardus, and give Ihem leave lo pluck 
 and 1111 t 1m ir helmets." 
 
 -Hurrah!" shouted Michael. "Come on, Liiard, 
 I know where Ihe fattest hunchcH han- " 
 
 lie was oil llrsl of Ihe throng, :iml Ihe glittering 
 concourHe rolled away ; while Kudocin's guard, 
 thrusting (heir spears in ;i ring where I hey had 
 slood, followed tifter. A shoul greeted Ihe com 
 puny an i! entered Ihe vineyards and tillered here 
 and then* among Ihe laneH of Ihe vines. They were 
 si rung on low t rcllises as high as a man's waist, and 
 Ihe folk gathered, then transferred Ihe contents of 
 their hand baskets lo great wains that waited for 
 Ihe harvest. 
 
 "Now, pretty one," said the Kmpress, when she 
 and Theodora sat alone, "come close, closer, and 
 put your hand in mine and (ell me tin 1 meaning of 
 these many tears, thai Michael says will drown (he 
 blue of your dear eyes. Woman to womun, Theo- 
 dora, and friend to friend." 
 
 "Woman lo woman, Majesty?" 
 
 "Kvcn so. I know yon are unhappy. Now hare 
 your heart to me and all ils aches; and tell me, 
 tirst, why have 1 lost your love, Theodora?" 
 
 "l>o you need (o ask? Woman lo woman, you 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 197 
 
 know right well, Eudocia. I tell you it is a cruel, a 
 wicked thing that you are doing — to lift him up to 
 dream idle, idiot dreams. They are such visions as 
 his own nature is only too prone to play with. And 
 what man would not dream under such temptation? 
 You are fooling him — why, God knows — and I must 
 submit to see all — all that makes my life and hope 
 — tortured for royal whims. And worse than that : 
 you turn the man into a gull and laughing-stock 
 for the Court. Oh, I could hate him now, for show- 
 ing himself a blind fool, if I did not already love 
 him so dearly for being himself. It is you who 
 bewitch him, transform him into something he was 
 not — beat a deadly light upon him. Yet how can 
 I scorn where I have so deeply loved? How can I 
 do less than weep my soul away to see him turned 
 into a puppet, dancing on your tune? Woman to 
 woman, you have come between this man and me, 
 great Queen, in fashion most unqueenly. You bade 
 me speak ; now punish me, destroy me ; I care not." 
 "Theodora," said the Empress gently, "we have 
 been precious friends since we were little, happy 
 girls together. And I remember how once we fell 
 out bitterly about a doll. Who suffered then? The 
 doll, not our love. The poor toy came in half be- 
 tween our furious hands; and when we found the 
 
198 EUDOCIA 
 
 stuff our puppet was made of, common disgust 
 made us kiss again. We swore eternal devotion 
 over the mommet's ruin." 
 
 "A man is not a doll stuffed with bran, Majesty." 
 
 "Few men are stuffed with trash so honest. 
 Would you keep all his laughter and jests — his 
 merry eyes and his merry melodies to yourself 
 alone? Must love be so greedy, Theodora? Why 
 may not I win some pleasure from my Protostrator 
 too?" 
 
 "What pleasure? You would make him your 
 lover." 
 
 Eudocia frowned and flushed. 
 
 "You speak to the Empress," she said. "Have 
 a care, Theodora. Your anger bears an evil sting 
 of insult." 
 
 Theodora turned her sad eyes to the earth. 
 
 " Woman to woman' — so you bade me speak, 
 Majesty." 
 
 "I forgive. You had forgot my oath, perchance, 
 and trusted to your jealous eyes; but from this 
 day, pretty one, believe my words are truer than 
 your sight." 
 
 "The wrong to him remains," murmured 
 Theodora. 
 
 " 'The wrong to him?' Our wrongs come from 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 199 
 
 within — so we are taught. If Bardas loves you, as 
 an honest man loves a woman, his heart is surely 
 steeled against all syrens, Theodora — against the 
 wiles of every other woman in the world. Tell me 
 how he has changed to you." 
 
 "He avoids me like the pestilence, in natural 
 fear that you " 
 
 "Think no such foolish thought, child. I do not 
 rob my subjects, and he knows it." 
 
 "Have you not robbed me of my old respect and 
 trust, Eudocia? Have you not changed the aspect 
 of Bardas to my vision?" 
 
 "Why, that's serious," admitted the other. 
 "But you must build upon his actions, not mine. 
 It is certain that I could not take from you any- 
 thing you possessed, Theodora." 
 
 "Oh, Majesty, be reasonable," begged the un- 
 happy maiden. "Who, then, has taken from me 
 what I possessed? Who but you — you, who once 
 treated him harshly, indifferently, and when I 
 rejoiced to win his love, though living kindness to 
 me in all else, were vexed and cold to hear my great 
 news? Men are but men. Who is there but must 
 run when Eudocia beckons?" 
 
 "Respect him, then, no less and blame him no 
 more," answered the monarch. "If he has but done 
 
200 EUDOCIA 
 
 what any man would do, who shall censure 
 him?" 
 
 "This is to play with words, as you are playing 
 with me," sighed Theodora. "I love him, Queen. 
 He swore to me that life was death apart from me ; 
 but now " 
 
 "If I were in love " began Eudocia; and the 
 
 other interrupted : 
 
 "You are. Do I not know the signs — I, who 
 have endured all their sweet and sour, felt them 
 burn through me, and fought to hide that I was 
 on fire?" 
 
 "Why, then, it is for you to pity me, not I, you," 
 replied the Empress. "Answer now this question : 
 have I once broken word to you in all our lives, 
 Theodora?" 
 
 "No, never once." 
 
 "Then I promise this. You shall be the wife of 
 Bardas, if anon you come to me and say you will 
 to wed him. And of all my summer palaces you 
 shall choose for my wedding gift which you will." 
 
 "I thank your generous Majesty. But how shall 
 I wed him if his love be dead?" 
 
 "If his love were dead, you would not wed him, 
 even though I commanded it. I know my Theodora 
 and her pride. Her pride first won me. Think 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 201 
 
 this : his love is lulled to sleep by potent charms — 
 not mine, Theodora, not mine; but potions brewed 
 for other ends than his delight, or yours. Wait and 
 be patient a little longer until Bardas wakens. 
 Hold him but as a slumberer, who presently will 
 move and rouse and rub his eyes and see Theodora 
 standing beside his couch in silence, until his 
 dreams are ended. 
 
 "Men are like butterflies, while we women 
 nearlier resemble ants. The butterfly, finding an 
 open flower, will only rest there while the sun 
 shares his bright throne. When the cloud-shadow 
 falls, he's away to seek the golden light again, my 
 Theodora. Men, you shall find, are greater slaves 
 to pursuit of happiness than we. But if an ant 
 meets some small treasure, how she cleaves to it 
 through foul weather, or fair! How presently, 
 with toil enormous, she drags it to her nest, or 
 breaks her heart in trying. . . . You, too, shall 
 have your treasure in your nest, love, if you still 
 desire it when this tale is told, and all eyes are 
 opened. Be very silent, very secret, very brave. 
 Kiss me now, woman to woman, please." 
 
 Nicephorus approached the Empress. He walked 
 slowly, clad in his white toga. 
 
 "Join the vintagers and be of good cheer. Still 
 
202 EUDOCIA 
 
 think him dreaming, and trouble him not until he 
 wakes." 
 
 "You give me back my heart, kind Majesty," 
 murmured the stricken maiden. 
 
 "I wish I could," answered Eudocia. "Perhaps 
 some day you'll tell me that with deeper gratitude 
 than now. Keep your heart safe, Theo, and treas- 
 ure it for him that's worthy of it." 
 
 § 3 
 
 The girl went her way with braver tread, mysti- 
 fied indeed, yet happier than she had been for many 
 days; while the Empress turned impatiently to her 
 old minister. 
 
 "The sad, tender child!" she cried. "It is a bit- 
 ing shame that she is called to suffer so. I've 
 wrecked her happiness, and see her daily fretting 
 out her heart for that base fool." 
 
 "Which fool?" asked Mcephorus. "There are 
 so many and various at Court. But you mean your 
 Protostrator. Well, is she blinded with her tears? 
 Can she not perceive that you have mercifully 
 rescued her from a bad mating? If she has not 
 thanked you yet, surely she must." 
 
 "I am at the limit of my endurance, and will 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 203 
 
 play actress but little longer," she assured him. 
 "Bardas is terrible to me — his smiles and dreadful 
 gallantries. When he was timid one suffered 
 enough; but now that he has grown bold, poor 
 
 man ! But where is Romanus? Now's the 
 
 hour and time appointed. Oh, I know he is near, 
 Nicephorus ! The birds are singing out his blessed 
 name on every bough." 
 
 "And men are speaking it. Things rush swiftly 
 to the climax. Only your nuptials now stand be- 
 tween you and destruction." 
 
 "Time will right all. But let me forget every- 
 thing with him for one little minute," she begged. 
 
 "Forget nothing, Queen. He had my ruby, and 
 came down your rope-ladder last night." 
 
 "He's near! He's near!" 
 
 "Yes — picking grapes with an earth-stained face, 
 disguised as a vintager." 
 
 "Can anything disguise him?" 
 
 "Even heroes depend a little on their daily shards 
 to show the men they are. Smeared with mother 
 earth in rustic clouts, your general hoodwinks all 
 eyes but God's. The Lizard is bringing him up the 
 watercourse, and you will be safe here for a few 
 brief moments. But run no risks, for we are at the 
 climax of the plot now. The Patriarch will come 
 
204 EUDOCIA 
 
 anon to worm the truth out of me — little dreaming 
 that Satan lies in wait for him as well as I. The 
 others hope to win me as an issue to our duel. 
 Why, Eudocia, must falsehood ever travel hand in 
 hand with State affairs? Why can man never ac- 
 complish his great national or international .issues 
 without lying? Why are our leaders ever liars 
 too?" 
 
 "Nations trust their leaders because they must. 
 Every storm comes to a head; every tumult and 
 tribulation reaches its summit, like the foam of a 
 bending wave. There will ever be the mighty few 
 who lead," she answered. 
 
 "Yet, till they are all hanged, the humble many 
 will know no peace." 
 
 "Mankind needs leaders, but ever lacks quality 
 of judgment to choose his leaders," she declared. 
 
 "It is not that," he told her. "They often choose 
 wisely ; but there is an awful sleight in possession 
 of power to modify character and, in politics, to 
 weaken a man's honour. He comes to it burning 
 with high ideals, thirsting to better the lot of the 
 nation and the nation's people. Then steals the 
 poison into his heart, and he finds that, as in art, 
 the medium kills inspiration; so in politics the 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 205 
 
 possible is ever at odds with the desirable. Be- 
 tween 'practical politics,' as we call them, and ideal 
 legislation, there is a gulf fixed, and in that gulf 
 the souls of many men are lost." 
 
 "Until we will to work in the light, it must ever 
 be so," admitted Eudocia. 
 
 "And the answer to that is this : While the staple 
 of every nation is its fools, we cannot work in the 
 light. Human ignorance, human passions, human 
 greed are the obstacles, and the highest appeal, the 
 noblest conviction ever falls upon the deafest ears. 
 To enter politics is, at best, to make a compact 
 with the Evil One, and to endanger our immortal 
 part. Yet who fears the peril, or sees it till too 
 late?" 
 
 "Bardas smiles and gambols like a monkey on 
 a pole," she said. "Yet blood is thicker than water. 
 He's true brother to Xiphilin at the core, and 
 already talks of power." 
 
 "Dangerous operations are performed with little 
 knives," answered the old man. "Humour him but 
 a short time longer after you are free — if, indeed, 
 you are freed. Within an hour we may know the 
 best or worst" 
 
 "God sharpen your wits," she said earnestly. 
 
206 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Pray that he will dull Xiphilin's. I may mis- 
 read the Patriarch. Here comes Saurus. Be wise 
 and speedy. We run a needless risk." 
 
 "No, no," she declared. "I'll but look into his 
 eyes and listen to his voice a moment, for thence all 
 my strength and courage spring." 
 
 "Doubtful fountains when a man's in love," he 
 answered. Then spoke Saurus, who had appeared 
 behind the ruined temple, and now approached 
 them. 
 
 "The general's here," he said. 
 
 "Post yourself by the cypress clump, my friend, 
 for that's the way Xiphilin must come to the 
 tryst," answered Mcephorus. "Scream like a pea- 
 cock when he approaches, and the sound will dis- 
 miss Romanus and summon me." 
 
 They departed then, Mcephorus towards the 
 vineyards and the Lizard in an opposite direction. 
 Even as they did so, there broke a great, ragged 
 figure from the oleanders and Eudocia leapt to his 
 arms. Behind the low shrubs and broken marble 
 they were hidden. 
 
 "My life, as a beggar man I come," he said. 
 
 "Dear pagan treasure! Oh, Romanus, why can 
 we never meet but one of us is mumming? First it 
 was I, as a cup bearer, and now my joy is stained 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 207 
 
 like a peasant, and his limbs hung with horrid 
 tatters. Let me wash your face and dry it with my 
 handkerchief, my brown baby!" 
 
 "Nay, I must be hid a little longer yet. I have 
 the advantage to-day, for I see you as you are. Oh, 
 to hear that ring of heavenly bells men call your 
 voice, Eudocia — to look upon your loveliness! But 
 you're pale, my golden bird." 
 
 "Only with happiness. How did you fare? Did 
 the guards note you?" 
 
 "Indeed they did, cursed me for a cur, and bade 
 me join the army like a man, not pull grapes like a 
 woman. I growled an oath at the brave lads and 
 slunk away from them." 
 
 "If they had known that under that ragged coat 
 beat the heart they love!" she cried. "There's sad 
 unrest amid your Varangian men — they who call 
 themselves English. Alas! they hate my name." 
 
 "They'll bless it soon. They set me high, but 
 not as high as I set them, my dearest treasure. 
 They are a people unlike others, and have that the 
 rest of savages lack. Where, in its fog and naked- 
 ness, lies the far off, desert isle that spills them into 
 civilisation, I know not ; but this I know : they have 
 a trick to fight with such a leaven of mirth in their 
 fury that the world fears them. They kill laughing, 
 
208 EUDOCIA 
 
 and laughing die. Their quality terrifies and 
 maddens common men. Michael's heavenly host 
 never took such a joy of battle as these." 
 
 Eudocia put her hands on his shoulders and 
 looked into his face. 
 
 "If all goes ill," she said, "you shall be free to- 
 morrow to join them and fight for Psellus and 
 Xiphilin against me." 
 
 "My life! What thoughts! Nought can go ill. 
 Mcephorus, so the Lizard tells me, reasons with the 
 Patriarch in this hour." 
 
 "He does. The sweet air will reek with lies. 
 This image of Bacchus will tremble before such 
 falsity. The wholesome grass will be parched for 
 a breath of truth. Oh, Romanus, it is not the least 
 of Eudocia's griefs, that even the happiest future 
 she can dream must be built on falsehood, founded 
 upon fraud. Yet so only can Mcephorus triumph." 
 
 "Trust Heaven, paragon of women," he an- 
 swered. "Trust Heaven to order all things rightly. 
 Life is a mystery, and only mental weaklings make 
 too deep and curious search into the springs of 
 action. When a lily opens her white chalice, do 
 the honey bees who sing there and gather her sweet 
 provender, dazed with the scent and lustre of her 
 glory, stop to think the lovely thing is eating ugly 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 209 
 
 food under the earth? God is a conjuror, and from 
 our human weakness and necessity can bring forth 
 noble and gracious actions. All tragedy, my 
 Queen, is based on blind-eyed error, human limita- 
 tions; and the heavenly need for faulty man to 
 suffer sorrow, grief and wrong. 
 
 "Yet, out of his torments and the far-off crimes 
 of mighty agonists, we pluck the divine flower of 
 art, whose tonic beauty lifts our souls to courage 
 and endurance; heals, fortifies and teaches us to 
 face our own little lives and make them greater." 
 
 His arms were round her, her head upon his 
 ragged breast. 
 
 "Ah!" she said, "within this circle the world 
 looks different to my eyes and unfriendly fortune 
 shrinks away. I am brave again, Romanus ; but it 
 chills my spirit, boy, that we must be so beholden 
 to another — older and wiser than we. I had loved 
 to think that you and I — we two — were strong 
 enough to beard a thousand Xiphilins." 
 
 "We are," he answered. "And so he'll find us. 
 If Nicephorus fails in comedy, as well he may with 
 that iron-fronted, solemn soul, then with tragedy 
 we will tempt our star — aye, Eudocia, and act a 
 tale for the poets to embalm, when we have lived 
 it out to the glorious dregs ! Your throne is greater 
 
210 EUDOCIA 
 
 far than my love for it; your crown shall never 
 touch another head while I am on earth." 
 
 "Great lover! My own! Romanus, you are 
 dearer than any crown to me. You are my crown. 
 And I am blessed and happy at least in this : that 
 love and honour point one way for both of us. I 
 would give my life for my people, and will do so 
 when they demand it ; I would hide for ever behind 
 convent walls for them if duty called me there; 
 but no shadow beckons that way, for well I know 
 the State would live again if you were Emperor." 
 
 "The people would be no enemies to me if I were 
 beside your throne." 
 
 "They should not, but they might," she answered. 
 "For Xiphilin to them is the mouthpiece of the 
 Eternal. Therefore it comes back to him. If he 
 thundered against you in the name of righteous- 
 ness, they would echo him, and curse you, and call 
 God's wrath upon me for loving you." 
 
 "Do not fear the people," he urged. "It is a 
 people's way before all else to ask a sign. They 
 reverence deeds and welcome the appeal to their 
 seven senses. Soldiers have taught me that. Action 
 they account better than windy threats of power 
 unseen. The free man is no more superstitious 
 than the ox or ass. If you would banish from this 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 211 
 
 nation the poisoned terrors that your hierophants 
 are skilled to plant in its heart, exhibit stirring 
 deeds and doughty men who do not fear liberty. 
 Once, Eudocia, when a pagan legion dreaded the 
 foe, they erected an altar to their heathen gods, 
 then walked round it, whimpering like a pack of 
 frightened girls. Thereon I challenged them and 
 destroyed their altar and spat upon it. They stood 
 in the extremity of panic terror, and were tempted 
 to cast down their arms and fly. But, seeing that 
 no almighty hand struck me to death for impiety, 
 they took heart, cried out that their god was dead, 
 found they must trust their own might, and so 
 swept to battle like a hurricane, and conquered. 
 But plague upon me to waste our time with war. 
 Come one little moment — here, close upon my knee 
 and let me hear all the East tell me she loves me." 
 
 He sat upon a fallen pillar with the Empress in 
 his arms. 
 
 "Love you ! Where's the human word can voice 
 a tiny part of all I hold for you, Romanus? It 
 would task a mightier speech than mine. Only 
 Nature could echo all you have kindled in one small 
 heart. Her wordless speech will best tell it. Listen 
 to the sea kissing your stormy cage on Marmora; 
 to the deep and gentle thunder that melts along the 
 
212 EUDOCIA 
 
 mountains tenderly on feverish nights, and the 
 wind whispering at your casement, and the angel 
 of the rain. Their unfettered voices can tell my 
 love better than I." 
 
 "The music of all these things shall be multiplied 
 a millionfold in sweetness since you have named 
 them. Henceforth they will mean your lips, my 
 Queen !" 
 
 "You speak of deeds," she said. "And for that 
 I most adore you. The purpose should " 
 
 From the distance came the harsh shriek of a 
 peacock. 
 
 "The cruel signal comes!" he murmured. 
 
 "I always hated peacocks, and now they shall be 
 birds of ill-omen. Say it was not Saurus, but some 
 real feathered wretch who cried." 
 
 Again the hidden dwarf uttered his warning, and 
 Eudocia rose. 
 
 "Tell me that you are happier before I go," he 
 begged. 
 
 "Happier far," she assured him. "Happier than 
 I have been for many a cloudy day, Romanus. 
 Happier for knowing that neither you nor I desert 
 the Throne. We will be faithful. Let me steal a 
 tiny way beside you for good fortune." 
 
 "But a short distance, my blessed flower. My 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 213 
 
 hiding place is too thorny for your delicate petals. 
 I lie where this streamlet empties to the sea, and 
 after dark the Lizard brings a boat to row me back 
 to red Malthus. He will endure some evil hours 
 until I'm safe again." 
 
 They crept beyond the ruin, and a moment later 
 there appeared two deacons and a cross-bearer, who 
 walked before the Patriarch. At the same moment 
 Nicephorus approached from the direction of the 
 vineyards, whence still arose the sound of many 
 voices, and the snatches of folk song. 
 
 § 4 
 
 Thus met the man in black and the man in white. 
 
 At a signal his cross-bearer and deacons with- 
 drew, and Xiphilin turned to the familiar figure. 
 He was bent upon some understanding, and de- 
 signed to thrust the statesman into a position from 
 which he could make no escape without an expres- 
 sion of his opinions. Now, however, the Patriarch's 
 own diplomacy was blocked, and he found himself 
 moving over new and uneven ground. He designed 
 to attack ; instead he was soon upon the defensive. 
 
 "Speak your whole mind in open ears," said 
 Nicephorus. "I desire nothing better than an 
 
214 EUDOCIA 
 
 understanding, and would wish, despite the past, to 
 think that we shared at least one ambition : to serve 
 the State." 
 
 "I am a man to whom guile and stealth are 
 anathema," answered Xiphilin. "I offer no excuse 
 for what I strove to do, believing that your time of 
 usefulness was ended, and that our situation de- 
 manded your removal." 
 
 "You pleaded eloquently and mercifully. Be- 
 lieve me I did not miss the spirit of your appeal. 
 I bear you no grudge, knowing that more went to 
 my fall than you could guess." 
 
 "Let all that be forgotten," replied the Patriarch. 
 "You are again at Court by Eudocia's goodwill; 
 and think not I regret the fact. The past is past, 
 and we are to understand that you return as friend, 
 not counsellor. But can one steeped in diplomacy 
 and used to command, stand by indifferent at such 
 times as these? You know our purpose, yet not 
 the Caesar, nor the Senate, nor Psellus can win 
 from you either commendation or censure. There- 
 fore I entreat of you to speak with me plainly. Can 
 you honestly declare that the thing we presently 
 shall do is not directed to the welfare, nay, the 
 salvation of the Empire? We fear you not, Mce- 
 phorus, for no human power can stay the stroke 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 215 
 
 now to fall. But must we think that your judgment 
 disapproves our plan?" 
 
 "To set an Emperor upon the Throne?" 
 
 "Even so. This revolution has Heaven's sanc- 
 tion ; indeed I affirm that it is inspired of Heaven. 
 But we are reasonable men and invite you, while 
 yet there is time, to walk our way, that your own 
 way, after these events, shall remain open to you." 
 
 Nicephorus did not answer immediately, and 
 when he did, ignored the threat. 
 
 "In the vanished past, Xiphilin, I often wished 
 that you and I might work as one," he said. "I 
 recognised your surpassing abilities as a youth, and 
 when you chose the Church, and in swift time 
 reached supremacy, I believed that with you at the 
 helm of the people's spirit, we statesmen might 
 work the needed miracle. But now I do not trust 
 you." 
 
 "Wherefore should you refuse to trust?" asked 
 the Patriarch. "I grant that I was glad to see your 
 downfall, for reasons deeper than politics. It was 
 natural, and since you speak plainly, I will do the 
 like. I have too often perceived you exercise a 
 malign influence against the Church, and when you 
 say that we might have worked together, it is for 
 me to distrust, not you. You never strengthened 
 
216 EUDOCIA 
 
 my hands, but would have weakened them if you 
 could." 
 
 "We have both erred by temperament and dis- 
 position," answered the elder. "I take your blame ; 
 but the future is now our concern, and wide-eyed, 
 all-seeing, let us weigh its import and its hope and 
 fear. I speak as one withdrawn from any hand or 
 voice in affairs. I was resigned and reconciled to 
 a life of peace. My hair does not yet hide the 
 tonsure, to which without a murmur I submitted. I 
 had indeed said farewell to statecraft, and was 
 turning to what better fits old age. Yea, believe 
 me, I should now be reclining upon philosophy, as 
 a sick man upon his pillows. So I saw an autumn 
 time to grow mellow ere the plucking. Thereupon, 
 our Eudocia, learning that her fate was sealed, 
 cried out for me, hoping doubtless to strike from 
 my old brain some flash of aid against her depo- 
 sition. But things will happen as they must, Patri- 
 arch. The warp and woof are blending swiftly, 
 inexorably, to show what pattern her future takes 
 — while you direct the weavers." 
 
 "Not I, Mcephorus. We are at best blind 
 artificers. It is the Master Weaver of all looms 
 who sets the pattern." 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 217 
 
 Nicephorus pointed to Eudocia's little silver 
 throne by which they now stood. 
 
 "Rest you here awhile and I will make confession 
 to your Beatitude," he said. "Not on my knees-- 
 alas ! they are too old to bend easily, but from my 
 heart. ,, 
 
 "It is the throne of the Empress." 
 
 "An augury ! Sit, man ! This senseless toy can- 
 not proclaim you impious. Be seated, and I will 
 recline upon the cushions." 
 
 Xiphilin, weary of standing, obeyed, but his 
 black eyes searched the trees. 
 
 "Fll strike to the root and voice my inner dreams, 
 knowing the secret safe with you," continued 
 Nicephorus. "It is agreed that the sceptre of the 
 East has grown too heavy for any woman's hand." 
 
 "If you grant so much, what divides us?" 
 
 "Humanity," answered the statesman. "Plain 
 humanity first, diplomacy afterwards. I love our 
 gracious Monarch. She is a woman of noble nature 
 — sunk just now from her lofty ideals by two 
 tormentors — love and despair. But I am not blind. 
 Her last hope is centred in the people's will. 'Let 
 me be at the mercy of my people' — thus she prays." 
 
 "A woman's wish," answered Xiphilin. "The 
 
218 EUDOCIA 
 
 people have no mercy. None will show one spark 
 of ruth when the appointed hour strikes. She is 
 angering her people at this moment. Why does 
 Romanus Diogenes still lie chained by Marmora? 
 For female spite and folly. His troops debauch the 
 capital, and if we had delayed much longer, it is 
 not we but the Varangians and Romanus who had 
 wrecked her throne. I speak assuming that he still 
 lives." 
 
 "Supposing the general free, wherein would lie 
 your hopes?" asked Nicephorus. "Can it be that 
 they chime with my own?" 
 
 "I think thus," replied the Patriarch. "Our 
 watchwords should be 'policy' and 'oppression/ 
 At the centre power absolute — a power rich in all 
 resources, prompt in all actions; a brain whose 
 thoughts, echoed by a thousand willing ministers, 
 can flash to the confines of empire quicklier than 
 the thunderbolt; a mouth whose slightest whisper 
 awakes the sleeping sword or puts it up again. Our 
 ramparts should be built, not of dead earth and 
 stone, Mcephorus, but palpitating flesh and blood 
 fired by a nation's spirit. Power should be con- 
 served jealously, and handed only from the strong 
 to the strong. Power in the hands of the weak 
 means death to all. It is summed in that word, 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 219 
 
 power to protect and punish, power to threaten and 
 breed fear, power welling from the nation's heart 
 to her boundaries — power — ever more power I 
 crave !" 
 
 "You do yourself a wrong to say you are no 
 statesman," answered Nicephorus. "Had politics 
 tempted your genius, yours the mouth and brain 
 ere this that held the saving word, the pregnant 
 thought, the whirlwind on its leash. The army, 
 then, you hold our foremost problem." 
 
 "Power, more power — bred out of pure patri- 
 otism first, and then pure intellect to govern and 
 apply it." 
 
 "We have the intellect, but patriotism is a rare 
 flower — so many weeds masquerade in her name." 
 
 "No great nation wholly lacks it," argued 
 Xiphilin. "The germ abides in Greece, and if the 
 mighty ones but light their beacons on our moun- 
 tain tops, the lesser flames will flash their answer 
 till all the nation's in a blaze. Let it be our task 
 to kindle such a flame; and that we may do so, a 
 man is needed on the Throne." 
 
 "Weighty and worthy words," declared Nice- 
 phorus. "I bow to them. A great man we need, 
 to light the Empire's heart and to teach the people 
 what a woman cannot teach them. To-day we buy 
 
220 EUDOCIA 
 
 our soldiers in open market, as cooks their kids 
 and porkers, chaffering to get them cheaply. We 
 give our gold for the living carcases of Sclav and 
 renegade Turk, Bulgar and Englishman, to fight 
 for our skins. Yet how can these love alien soil, or 
 erect that barrier of a nation's spirit sprung un- 
 conquerable from its own mother's sons? Hired 
 spears never fight to a finish — unless, indeed, one 
 they love leads them." 
 
 "Even so," grunted Xiphilin. "A queen cannot 
 take the field ; John Ducas can." 
 
 "John Ducas! Poor Caesar! Would you send 
 him to the wars fretting his fat in fear and shiver- 
 ing under mountain tents hardened by frost? He 
 was not born to make the soldiers love him. Think 
 again, Patriarch. My heart! How oft I mourn 
 that it is forbidden our Empress should wed a 
 hero." 
 
 "I do not crave another hero in the purple," 
 replied Xiphilin. "Byzantium has seen enough of 
 heroes; they put too heavy a strain on the State. 
 Let the heroes strut the field and be as terrible 
 there as you will. In time of peace there is no 
 greater or more dangerous nuisance than your hero. 
 Our ultimate ideals are never those of fighting men, 
 and the land that lets the blade turn against the 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYAKDS 221 
 
 wit that forged it, fares ill. As for her — Eudocia — 
 she has sworn away any thought of a second spouse. 
 If fifty right heroes came in chariots of thunder 
 from the sky, she never weds again — not while God 
 reigns in heaven and I stand for Him on earth." 
 
 "I wish most heartily you did so stand," retorted 
 Nicephorus. 
 
 "And do I not?" 
 
 "No, Patriarch. I'm glad you put the question, 
 however. It will help us forward. You and I have 
 never fairly grasped each other's problems nor have 
 we measured each other's strength. I often con- 
 sidered your self-denials and abnegations, but give 
 you large credit I could not, because I saw that 
 these trials were forced upon you and your gigantic 
 ambitions were fettered. So the lesser thing 
 commands what your heart tells you is the greater, 
 and you accept the fact that in the East our politics 
 come first, our religion second. Even thus we 
 stand, and you are a servant, but not to God only. 
 Soon now you must bend under the will of the 
 translated Caesar and the mercy of Michael Psellus. 
 Holy Church at the beck of the historian ! That is 
 why I shake my head and deny you the power that 
 you pretend." 
 
 " 'Pretend,' Nicephorus?" 
 
222 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Pretend you must, Patriarch. Reality is denied 
 you, for only the shadow of power is yours. Your 
 loftiest claims fall far short of real power, and who 
 knows it better than yourself? A ghost and faint 
 simulacrum your rule appears when we contrast it 
 with any potent Prince of the Church. The 
 Cardinals in Rome are greater men than you. You 
 stand unto their substance as a shadow beside the 
 ponderable thing that flings it. The Church of 
 Rome is a scourge of many thongs; ours — what? 
 A slave, to feel the lash, not wield the lash." 
 
 "To my everlasting shame I grant you speak the 
 truth," admitted the Primate, with troubled fore- 
 head and fierce eyes. 
 
 "The shame does not lie with you — unless, in- 
 deed, you are content," answered Nicephorus. 
 
 " 'Content P lam not made of stuff that can be 
 moulded to content." 
 
 "No, you are not. Life, doubtless, disturbs you 
 and you mourn the vision of what should be, op- 
 posed to what is. But shall your pitiful pretence 
 and mummery flourish to the end of time because 
 the Constitution of this realm has emasculated our 
 Church?" 
 
 In Xiphilin's soul awoke suspicion of this 
 tempting tongue. 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 223 
 
 "Not so you talked upon your trial," he said. 
 
 "Not so I thought upon my trial," answered the 
 other. "Many and magical things have happened 
 since my trial — things that you might have marked 
 as swiftly as I, yet failed to do so. I will come to 
 them. Let us pursue first this tremendous theme. 
 I am confessing, remember, and I ask myself, in 
 the light of a great and immediate possibility, what 
 irrevocable fate still holds our Church in its an- 
 cient bonds, to limp, a prisoner, at the chariot 
 wheels of temporal power? Why, for an example, 
 should the Roman See outshine ours of the East 
 as a risen moon beggars the stars? Tell me what 
 virtue lies in popes, that Christian monarchs 
 tumble over each other to kiss their omnipotent 
 toes? I only ask to learn. Why is the West so 
 quick to grant the Almighty's first minister his 
 pride of place and amplitude of power, while the 
 Orient denies it to him, and cynically curbs his 
 sacred claims? Is it right, or wrong? Is it the 
 highest wisdom, or a gross impiety? Might not 
 some devout souls say that we come near to flouting 
 Heaven's self when we flout Heaven's vicegerent? 
 Indeed I doubt not there are men we know would 
 declare that it is for this offence we suffer the pangs 
 of failure, tribulation and defeat on many fields. 
 
224 EUDOCIA 
 
 Thus might they say God wills to open our blinded 
 eyes, by humbling our might again and again be- 
 fore the infidel." 
 
 "Believe, I have bitterly felt all that you speak," 
 answered the Patriarch. "I have smarted under 
 it, writhed under it and taken my tortures with 
 many a groan and prayer before the Everlasting. 
 The Pope and I are equal touching the Light we 
 profess to hold aloft; but the difference between 
 us lies in this : he of the triple crown is a traitor to 
 God, and by blackest treachery arrogates temporal 
 power, cleaving to it with devilish cunning, and so 
 prostituting the message of the Most High. In the 
 spirit of the Devil he utters his threats and 
 promises. He reigns by terror over friends and 
 foes alike; his statecraft extends over the souls of 
 men, and out of their superstitious dread of the 
 hereafter, they grovel in the present. His power 
 rises out of man's ignorance, not God's wisdom, and 
 the West was ever fertile soil to spawn his proud 
 and vast authority. But the East still feels a ques- 
 tioning spirit — a spirit bred by pagan men before 
 the dawn of Christ. What they wrote and taught 
 still bears doubtful fruit of reason, and it is 
 through the golden and temperate mean, between 
 reason and faith, that I would lead mankind, 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 225 
 
 Nicephorus. If I could shout and bellow half as 
 loud as impious Rome, I should be heard as far; 
 but I am a Christian, in truth as well as name ; the 
 Pope is not. The outside of his cup may be bright ; 
 the inside is foul. Yet who shall deny the better 
 part is mine: to yield the earthly power for 
 spiritual?" 
 
 But the elder shook his head. 
 
 "That will not do," he answered. "You make 
 a virtue out of your impotence, neither deceiving 
 me nor satisfying Xiphilin. Your path upward, 
 into the splendour of historic fame, would run by 
 wider channels if you had the strength to make it. 
 These surely are times when heavenly claims cry 
 for earthly genius to keep them in the forefront of 
 our affairs, lest they recede and are for ever lost. 
 These are times when Christ's humility — always 
 beautiful — may prove perilous to His Church. He 
 brought a sword, knowing the need thereof. Yet 
 you suffer it to lie rusting in the scabbard. Does 
 not your own office show that I speak truth? At a 
 nod — an Emperor's nod — a monk has often passed 
 from the cell to St. Sophia's throne; and thence 
 again — to nothing. But our patriarchs should be 
 sacred once they reach supremacy. The fault is 
 their own, however, since they deem the sword 
 
226 EUDOCIA 
 
 becomes them less fittingly than a shirt of hair. 
 Remember, Xiphilin, that your Maker willed you 
 to be a patrician first, a priest afterwards; and 
 God does nothing without purpose." 
 
 The Patriarch was perturbed. He drummed 
 upon the arm of the little throne and stared darkly 
 at his companion. 
 
 "Are you an angel to counsel, or a devil to 
 tempt?" he asked. 
 
 "Neither. An old man who only yearns to see 
 this State assured ere he leaves it for the peace of 
 his grave — the State stronger and the throne 
 secure." 
 
 "A woman reigns," said Xiphilin, "and at her 
 wilful whim stands the plenipotentiary of the 
 Almighty." 
 
 "A thorn to prick any high priest," admitted 
 Nicephorus. "But are you not a Christian first 
 and a subject afterwards? Now is your hour, your 
 opportunity ! Time dawdles for you ! Be another 
 Photius, man, and set the Pope and all his works 
 under your heel !" 
 
 "Then must the Eastern Crown be under my 
 heel also," answered Xiphilin, looking upon the 
 fires of the sunset sky. 
 
 "That, too, and why not? Our Christian Asia, 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 227 
 
 our Christian Africa, and all the Islands go peace- 
 fully enough at your command, then why not Con- 
 stantinople?" 
 
 "You ask mighty but idle questions. Only time 
 to come can see them answered," replied the other 
 with a sigh. 
 
 "Answer them yourself. Make Time your accom- 
 plice, not your enemy, Patriarch. Use this ripe and 
 teeming hour, for never yet was one strong hand 
 in reach of such fruit ready to fall." 
 
 "You dream, Nicephorus. These blessings can- 
 not come for this generation. It is the soldier's 
 hour, not ours. While on every frontier there 
 howls a different foe, the Church can only watch 
 and pray." 
 
 "And would our armies not fight for Holy 
 Church as they have never fought before? I say : 
 1 Secure the temporal power, and all the weightier 
 things will be added to you.' Ascend the Throne, 
 Xiphilin! Reign by proxy, and from that exalted 
 place your vision will indeed scan reality; your 
 hand pour down spiritual food upon the realm, as 
 manna from the clouds. You seize the less for the 
 sake of the greater, answering first the cry of the 
 Nation's stricken body that you may anon heal 
 her soul." 
 
228 EUDOCIA 
 
 Xiphilin breathed deep and his nostrils opened 
 widely as he respired ; but his forehead was moody ; 
 his eyes shifted to right and left, like those of a 
 nervous horse. 
 
 "What has inspired your thoughts to this 
 stupendous vision?" he asked. "The desire of my 
 downfall, perchance? You would egg me on to 
 work time's revenges for you? I cannot forget that 
 you ever scoffed at the verities, Nicephorus." 
 
 "Not I," answered the other. "You wrong me 
 there; and you wrong me to suppose that I dream 
 of revenge. Look back and see when I have sought 
 revenge on any man. Religion undefiled won no 
 flout or scorn from me; but to watch the soul 
 choked out of righteousness with idle pomp " 
 
 "Religion appreciates the value of the eye, the 
 ear, the nose. Men may be drawn by these to holi- 
 ness, for all have eyes, ears, noses; few possess 
 understanding." 
 
 "You ask whence come these deep and pregnant 
 thoughts, Patriarch. Believe me, loyalty, not 
 treason, breeds them. Our Eudocia must wed." 
 
 He waited for the explosion, and it came. 
 
 "That she shall never do. Her eternal widow- 
 hood is as sure as that the sun is setting. The 
 world united does not shake my determination. It 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 229 
 
 is for this reason that the Throne passes to Caesar, 
 since our cry is for an Emperor." 
 
 "That's her cry, too." 
 
 "Then I pray wisdom is whispering her to ab- 
 dicate, that our course may be the peacefuller." 
 
 "Wisdom," said Nicephorus, "has whispered her 
 to share the Throne, not leave it. Nature knows no 
 obligations, recognises no oath. Providence has 
 willed that the Empress loves." 
 
 "Do not take the name of Providence in vain, old 
 man. It is the Devil, not Providence, who has 
 breathed this appalling impiety into her wanton 
 heart." 
 
 "I feared that you would think so; yet I much 
 mourn your attitude. It is a disaster for the 
 Church, and therefore a universal tragedy." 
 
 "The Church is not involved save to do right," 
 answered Xiphilin, but the counsellor explained 
 himself. 
 
 "Directly, vitally, fatally involved. So deeply 
 that, in this emotion of the Monarch, I repeat the 
 hand of Providence alone is lifted — both for Church 
 and State." 
 
 Again Xiphilin deeply doubted ; again he became 
 personal. 
 
 "You are not used to talk so dangerously, or 
 
230 EUDOCIA 
 
 show your spirit naked. Can accident and change 
 and chance and unexpected things unveil you 
 thus?" 
 
 "A natural wonder. Yet it is so, Xiphilin. For 
 consider the significance of my first discovery on 
 return to Court. I came and found the Empress 
 had lifted the Protostrator to her right hand, had 
 wakened to see him in a roseal light that, between 
 man and woman, means one thing alone." 
 
 "Bardas!" cried Xiphilin. "That gilded piece 
 of emptiness!" 
 
 "Empty vessels can be filled ; he is your brother ; 
 and though he bears himself proudly, it is first 
 because he is your brother that he does so. He 
 shows at least a very seemly reverence for you, and 
 is under your authority more than your little 
 finger. In truth you are your brother's keeper, for 
 good or ill ; and did he reign, then you and only you 
 are monarch of the East — to control Church, State, 
 all. Did fate but set you on that Olympian perch, 
 my friend, I think your thunder would reach as far, 
 your lightning strike as sharp, as any pope's. We 
 old men dream dreams and see visions. I — in your 
 ear as penitent — confess that I have dreamed how 
 an oath, made to a dying man, might well be an- 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 231 
 
 nulled — to no base purpose, but for the salvation 
 of a distraught kingdom. To me, in this waking 
 dream, it seemed incredibly strange that such a 
 trifle should thrust between a nation's hope and 
 despair. My vision showed how easily our helm 
 might be safe in a steadfast hand, our sails sure set 
 at last before the steady breath of Heaven's will; 
 while forward, to her appointed destiny, our ship 
 stood out upon the obsequious deep. But you must 
 pardon me these images, for, as you teach me, I am 
 too backward in matters of the spirit." 
 
 Xiphilin's black eyes stared before him, probing 
 the future. His brain worked; for a moment 
 suspicion grew dull. 
 
 "Answer this," he said. "Does Diogenes still 
 live?" 
 
 "I have her word he does. She knows the pas- 
 sionate adoration of the armies for his name." 
 
 "Speak on then, Mcephorus. Bare the depth of 
 your amazing thought. It will go no farther." 
 
 "Mayhap I have spoken too much already, Patri- 
 arch. But within your pontifical heart this secret 
 is safe enough. I have confessed; it is for you 
 to absolve and forget." 
 
 "You are a statesman," answered Xiphilin, "and 
 
232 EUDOCIA 
 
 your prescience in policy needs no condemnation 
 or censure from me, since the thought behind is 
 pure and the devotion to State transparent." 
 
 "You speak the truth and judge me fairly," an- 
 swered the elder. "It is not only for you that I 
 have laid my ambition bare. Grant at least, 
 whether you will to wield it or no, that this weapon 
 appears one of heavenly forging, well tempered for 
 such a tremendous test." 
 
 "What weapon?" asked Xiphilin. 
 
 "Why, her heart — the heart of Eudocia, now 
 afire under the unanswerable, unreasoning goad of 
 love. There is one soul on all the earth she might 
 espouse, to your enormous gain, Patriarch, as 
 Father of the Church. And were that granted, as 
 swiftly as her love and our policy might accomplish 
 it. . . . But I am weary ; I talk in vain. You will 
 not make the answer that my heart had hoped to 
 hear from yours; so mine grows cold." 
 
 The Patriarch did not reply immediately : he was 
 pursuing his own reflections. 
 
 "What trashy baits will take them!" he said at 
 length, looking up at Mcephorus, who had risen, 
 and now stood beside him. "Nevertheless there is 
 inconsistency in this woman. I cannot think that 
 she would lose her old, unconcealed contempt of 
 Bardas at a breath." 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 233 
 
 "Warn him; warn him of his peril. Bid him 
 begone swiftly. A whisper from you will despatch 
 him. At a wink he'll fly to the ends of the earth. 
 Only passion has tempted him thus far. Yet I 
 blame him not, for who under such direct provoca- 
 tion could have held in?" 
 
 "Strange is the sound of the still, small voice in 
 a human ear," mused Xiphilin. "So doubtfully 
 indeed sometimes it whispers, that even those best 
 in tune to receive the message may err." 
 
 "But not always so," answered the other. 
 "None can speak so clear as conscience when clear- 
 ness is demanded. Now my cry is for an expert of 
 the oracles to tell this dream of mine and spell its 
 meaning. And who better than you should read 
 it?" 
 
 "You hold that she actually loves him?" asked 
 Xiphilin. 
 
 "Watch them together and judge. That will be 
 easy." 
 
 "It is not in her character so to do," declared the 
 Patriarch. "Never have her taste and inclination 
 sought the things that Bardas lives for." 
 
 "Such was my opinion also. And still I think 
 it," answered Nicephorus. "They differ pro- 
 foundly ; and that is massive evidence in itself, for 
 Love takes joy to play these magic sleights and 
 
234 EUDOCIA 
 
 involve by his indecent wit right opposite men and 
 women who, but for his mad games, would be the 
 first to feel and see their own deep disparity. Love 
 will link such together, while fools laugh and wise 
 men take shame." 
 
 "How did he dare to fly so high, think you?" 
 
 "Would he have dared without some huge in- 
 spiration to exalt his spirit and make him fearless? 
 And the Empress — would she suddenly view him in 
 this new light did no fire drip from love's torch into 
 her soul? Your brother Bardas is not the first to 
 be an Emperor, who loved his horse and hound. 
 When I was caged by Marmora I played at chess 
 with him and often thought how destiny has willed 
 to crown a pawn, yet little guessed that I should 
 live to see the thing happen. And can we now deny 
 that the reason for this wonder rests within the 
 sleepless mind of an over- ruling Providence? You 
 are still the vane to mark which way the wind of 
 Heaven is blowing on this people. Then mark it 
 now for me." 
 
 Xiphilin, thrown into agitation, took some steps 
 and walked irresolutely up and down, while Ni- 
 cephorus stood still and watched him. Then the 
 priest spoke again: 
 
 "What would be the issue if such a revolution 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 235 
 
 burst upon this slumbering State? And what is 
 your personal hope out of this, did it, indeed, hap- 
 pen? You must have considered the situation as 
 it touched yourself." 
 
 "I have not looked as far as that. Had I done 
 so, I had probably been silent, for fear. I was only 
 desirous to reveal what seemed an evangel of great 
 worth, and bring it to you in all its splendour, 
 danger and significance, that your impartial mind 
 might resolve whether it comes from Evil or 
 Good?" 
 
 Xiphilin weighed these words; then he began to 
 nibble the bait with infinite circumspection. He 
 sat again and expounded the situation with a soph- 
 istry that was his second nature in matters of the 
 soul. 
 
 Slowly and surely he began to deceive — not his 
 listener, but himself. 
 
 "The doubt lies with the dead," declared he, his 
 brows bent in a double task: to display the case 
 luminously and to bend the argument in the direc- 
 tion of his gathering conviction. "If Constantine 
 was wholly conscious when he exacted Eudocia's 
 oath, then not I, nor angels, nor archangels could 
 rescind so irrevocable a bond. But if we were in a 
 position to say that the Emperor had already 
 
236 EUDOCIA 
 
 turned into the vestibule of death, that his hold 
 on consciousness was weakened before Eudocia 
 swore " 
 
 "Why, then, indeed, no doubt could exist," 
 replied Mcephorus. "The point must ever remain 
 obscure to mortal mind. But we cannot in honesty 
 ignore the doubt. The doubt itself is the point ; for 
 grant the uncertainty of Constantine's condition at 
 the fatal moment, then the case is largely altered, 
 and it becomes a question for you and you only, 
 whether the benefit of the doubt may not be con- 
 ceded. Your problem is not complex and reduces 
 itself to this: whether — not for her own sake, but 
 for the mightier issues now before you — to the 
 Empress shall be given the benefit of doubt." 
 
 Xiphilin nodded, but scarcely heard. He was 
 pursuing his natural way through the labyrinth. 
 
 "If often happens that a man will reveal a mas- 
 ter passion at some moment great with his own 
 destiny," he said. 
 
 Mcephorus regarded him ; but the old man's face 
 revealed no tremor, nor was there a breath of irony 
 in his voice as he answered : 
 
 "Most true, Patriarch ; I have seen it with these 
 eyes !" 
 
 "The late Emperor's was jealousy," continued 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 237 
 
 Xiphilin. "Of that there can be no question. A 
 young wife will often waken it in an old husband, 
 though she may be innocent. Many a time I 
 warned our Constantine against this futile emo- 
 tion. But since that was so, we may go a careful 
 step farther and grant that, even were he in pos- 
 session of his full faculties, the motive that in- 
 spired the oath he put upon Eudocia came not 
 from Heaven. You follow me? Jealousy — strong- 
 est in his weakest hour — wholly dominated Con- 
 stan tine's sinking mind; and thus, whether fully 
 conscious or no, he erred. I will not actually 
 affirm that he did wrong, Nicephorus. He may 
 mentally have passed the point at which wrong- 
 doing can be imputed to him ; but err the late king 
 did and, either way, it leaves the Church free 
 enough." 
 
 "A potent argument," admitted the other. 
 
 "Let us now consider what follows," continued 
 the priest. "Eudocia's young ; she might in course 
 of nature bear a son and blot the dynasty of Ducas 
 out!" 
 
 The veteran knew that his battle was won. There 
 remained only to gather the trophies. He relaxed 
 and began to paint with a coarse brush. 
 
 "Well may you ask what follows! Your own 
 
238 EUDOCIA 
 
 blood flows into the purple and you found a dynasty 
 yourself! It staggers an old brain to think that 
 such deeds lie within the stroke of one man's hand. 
 And such a man." 
 
 "I must pursue this tremendous subject on my 
 knees," answered the younger. He was wiping his 
 brow whereon his emotion beaded. His breath had 
 quickened — he almost panted. Mcephorus per- 
 ceived in him phenomena akin to those exhibited 
 by Bardas in prison. 
 
 Xiphilin continued : 
 
 "I'll hide myself in some lonely House of God. 
 I will withdraw and listen whether the Voice 
 that guides my least and greatest thought speaks 
 clearly." 
 
 But delay did not commend itself to the 
 statesman. 
 
 "Is not your soul already upon its knees?" he 
 enquired wearily. For he was skilled to keep 
 triumph out of his face and speech as easily as 
 failure. "Be assured, Patriarch, that the still, 
 small voice you tell me guides your every deed, 
 now speaks loud enough and assures you that the 
 noblest form of prayer is action. When the trum- 
 pet sounds from the clouds, our spirits leap to 
 answer, for that celestial summons may not come 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 239 
 
 twice. Heaven bids to her banquets when they are 
 ready and offers fruit ripe for instant plucking. 
 Things happen at God's good time, or never. We 
 must gird our armour on with despatch, for sur- 
 prise is often the secret of success." 
 
 Xiphilin nodded acquiescence. 
 
 "The army first," he said. "If Psellus and the 
 
 Caesar suddenly find me cold But neither 
 
 matters much before this avalanche. The Empress 
 alone — she and the future Emperor." 
 
 "And you." 
 
 "If she were publicly absolved of her oath, Ni- 
 cephorus, and bidden, on pain of divine displeasure, 
 to forego her hatred against Romanus Diogenes — 
 then we are trebly armed and as safe as wit of man 
 and will of God can make us." 
 
 "And this I promise," added the other, "that 
 when the truth is out, Romanus and his armies will 
 be firm for the Throne. Opposition is of no account 
 while you hold the powers of Heaven and earth in 
 your two hands." 
 
 "The Senate ?" 
 
 "When you have sanctified Eudocia's love, the 
 rest must happen as the cataract falls over the 
 precipice. We know the Senate." 
 
 Xiphilin rose to his feet. 
 
240 EUDOCIA 
 
 "My Master speaks!" he said in his deepest 
 tones. 
 
 "So be it," answered the other, quick to answer 
 theatricals with rhetoric. "Mark the sky, Patri- 
 arch, tinged with the rapture of a sun in sight of 
 rest. Let this gracious light gild your blessed deed 
 and link Nature's hour of peace with your most 
 glorious enterprise." 
 
 "She shall be free, Nicephorus, before the sun 
 has set !" 
 
 "Amen to that," answered the old man devoutly. 
 Then he saluted the Patriarch. 
 
 "Heroic priest! I have known some — few they 
 were — who, by rare texture of their souls, flashed 
 meteor-like through life, to influence the story of 
 mankind. So come the rare comets from outer 
 space, to cleave the skies and vanish, yet leave be- 
 hind in mighty births, or other portents, a message 
 from beyond our ken. Will that this joyous thing 
 be broken joyously ; for Constantinople is quick to 
 take a mood of hope or fear from you. If you are 
 dark, men falter; if you smile, they know all's 
 well." 
 
 "Joyous it must be, since God hath sent the 
 great news to earth," declared Xiphilin. "Cleave 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYAKDS 241 
 
 to that, Mcephorus. Be very sure I glean my 
 mandate from on high and shall so proclaim it. 
 The thunders of thanksgiving will drown the 
 danger." 
 
 "Cite Heaven only ; but I need not counsel you." 
 "I will go," continued Xiphilin, "and bid my 
 people to the shrine in St. Sophia's. Then, with a 
 guard of Churchmen, they shall bring along the 
 reliquary that holds her oath. Within the hour all 
 is done." 
 
 He hastened where his little company strolled 
 beside the vineyard hedge ; and swiftly despatched 
 them with a cipher message to the cathedral. 
 
 § 5 
 
 Nicephorus watched the Patriarch depart, but no 
 elation marked his countenance ; indeed melancholy 
 harboured there. He felt conscious of his immense 
 accomplishment, yet found slight savour in the 
 taste of it. 
 
 Walking slowly he stood by the shattered 
 Dionysus; and then Eudocia, who had for the last 
 few moments watched unseen, slipped from the 
 undergrowth and stood beside him. 
 
242 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Is it life or death?" she asked, and Nicephorus 
 did not reply, though implicitly his words answered 
 her. 
 
 He pointed to the statue. 
 
 "The boyish god, Majesty — our Dionysus of the 
 destinies, who from Dodona leapt into the world, 
 to wreak his will upon the hearts of men with 
 might and madness. His cantharos has fallen with 
 his hand to the dust, else he might have drunk to 
 your Patriarch and the furies now sharpening their 
 talons for a soul. In truth his maenads and cory- 
 bants, streaming with blood and wine; his fauns 
 and nymphs and old grey satyrs — the whole shriek- 
 ing, crazy company — are but a fairy dance to the 
 throng of Christian fiends and devils soon to haunt 
 your jubilant arch-priest." 
 
 "What has happened to him?" she asked. 
 
 "Destruction. The man's spirit shall scorch 
 under the white light of truth anon, and her 
 ghastly glass reflect for him the secret of his un- 
 doing. Now he goes drugged to his awakening and 
 he, who worshipped a greater Christ than Diony- 
 sus, falls like Lucifer." 
 
 "Speak plainly to me, Nicephorus." 
 
 He turned and took her hand tenderly. 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 243 
 
 "A thorn has scratched your cheek, Majesty. I 
 pray you now be milk and honey to the Patriarch. 
 The sun is setting on one happy man at least, and 
 may rise upon a city full of them. The light has 
 flashed, like a sword, into your enemy's heart, and 
 he is an enemy no more." 
 
 "Then you have triumphed !" she cried. 
 
 "A tasteless triumph too. His own pride won 
 the bout, not I, and Xiphilin was an easy prey to 
 Xiphilin. Our lives are childish puzzles for the 
 gods to piece and play with, Eudocia; yet man 
 beats his Maker sometimes, if one may judge by the 
 wagging of the world. I will seek Xiphilin's 
 friends now, who wait in some anxiety the issues 
 of these interchanges. Lies cannot stand alone, 
 Divine One. They need the comfort and support 
 of each other. When he approaches you from 
 yonder, salute him pensively and let him know you 
 love. You shall hear no harsh sermon from him 
 to-day. Indeed he brings a mighty gift for his 
 Empress." 
 
 "My liberty !" 
 
 The Patriarch had observed Eudocia and now 
 came forward. 
 
 "I will not spoil his pleasure. And I pray you 
 
244 EUDOCIA 
 
 to laud and honour Bardas. Breathe his august 
 name as though it still were music," said her 
 counsellor. 
 
 "So it is," she answered. "Indeed it should be 
 if I owe him my fortune. But you are sad; you 
 speak with weariness; there is no light in your 
 eyes, Mcephorus." 
 
 "Not sad," he said, "but hungry for simple 
 scenes, without the need of stratagems and wiles, 
 to catch poor fellow men in snares woven from 
 their own weakness. Much I envy the pure in 
 heart — they who stand before the throne of Reason, 
 intent upon her voice alone, at peace with all man- 
 kind. But I should have thought of that before I 
 turned statesman." 
 
 He left her then and, passing the Patriarch, 
 spoke before he went upon his way. 
 
 "I have not declared your revelation," he said. 
 "From you alone must she learn the boon." 
 
 The Patriarch now stood by his Empress, who 
 sat again upon her little silver throne. Excitement 
 had faded from her eyes and she simulated mel- 
 ancholy. Indeed there was no great need for 
 acting: Mcephorus had cast her down. 
 
 "Alone, Majesty?" inquired Xiphilin. 
 
 "Would that I were," she answered. "A woman's 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 245 
 
 never alone while her whole heart is full of some- 
 one else. But what know you of hearts, Patri- 
 arch?" 
 
 "I know that for any heart a throne's a lonely 
 place." 
 
 "Why, you are like him in a way," she said, re- 
 garding the priest ingenuously. "You have his 
 nose, Xiphilin ; but there is a gentler lustre in his 
 eyes; his forehead is not so proud as yours, and 
 he can laugh." 
 
 Xiphilin pretended a great ignorance. 
 
 "Men of distinction like not to be compared with 
 others, or learn of fancied resemblances," he 
 answered, "yet, if I bring any pleasant vision to 
 your memory, it is well. I seek audience, and here 
 is opportunity." 
 
 "Nay," she said. "I am in no mood for hard 
 blows to-night. I know what is in your heart, and 
 mine is heavy enough without that added burden. 
 My destruction comes apace and I am prepared. 
 'Twas your brother, Bardas, you resembled for a 
 moment, but now no longer." 
 
 "Do you speak of the Protostrator, Majesty?" 
 
 "I would exalt him to a station more consonant 
 with his rare gifts. Men rate Bardas too low. He 
 has been valuable to me." 
 
246 EUDOCIA 
 
 "You are the only judge," he answered. "I have 
 some admiration for him. But in a Churchman 
 pride of race is blameworthy. He would, however, 
 grace advancement. Leave him now and listen. I 
 come not to bring trouble or warning — far other- 
 wise. I am the messenger of amazing and joyful 
 tidings." 
 
 "There's no joy but in freedom, Patriarch." 
 
 "We both know that, Eudocia Augusta. To 
 spirits such as ours, freedom is the air we breathe." 
 
 She showed wonder in her looks. 
 
 "Why, you are come friendly disposed! I 
 thought you hated me and would dethrone me, 
 because I was a woman." 
 
 "Foolish thought," he answered. "I feared for 
 you and urged a happier, holier future than the 
 throne can promise; but why should I hate God's 
 anointed? Eudocia, I have, since last we met, 
 heard mighty messages that must change my vision 
 of the future. Your name has been spoken 
 melodiously in my ears on sacred tongues. It has 
 been murmured to me on immortal lips, for in 
 Heaven's high councils you are remembered." 
 
 "Blessed news! But rather would I hear my 
 unhappy country is not forgotten, Patriarch." 
 
 "It is not forgotten," he assured her. "The 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 247 
 
 Mind that counts the sparrows holds both this stu- 
 pendous realm and its Sovereign. We are within 
 the cognizance of the Highest; we " 
 
 He broke off, for Bardas approached briskly from 
 the vineyards. 
 
 "A suppliant, Majesty," he exclaimed. "The 
 vintagers are troubled and disconsolate. Their 
 rites remain undone, and while the sun sets, our 
 sun is not yet risen. The folk thirst and hunger 
 for you to bless the day's labour." 
 
 But Eudocia waved him away. 
 
 "Anon, dear Bardas," she said. "I have much 
 to learn of your brother. He has a message " 
 
 "Your pardon," replied the Protostrator, with 
 his eye on Xiphilin. "I did not know " 
 
 But the Patriarch was sternly gracious. 
 
 "If Majesty wills, we can go together," he de- 
 clared. "What I have to tell should be wel- 
 comed by all who love the Queen ; and you, Bardas, 
 are one of them." 
 
 "My life is hers," answered the younger 
 reverently. 
 
 "It is a life precious to me," murmured Eudocia. 
 
 Then together they departed, while Xiphilin 
 revealed how in a vision he had learned that 
 Eudocia's oath must be annulled. 
 
248 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Godless men still dare maintain that the days 
 of miracles are passed," he said. "But you shall 
 hear " 
 
 They passed into the vines and a mighty shout 
 greeted Eudocia's advent to pluck the royal 
 bunches of custom. 
 
 § 6 
 
 Elsewhere Psellus and the Caesar walked to- 
 gether and awaited Xiphilin. But the priest came 
 not and, instead, there presently appeared M- 
 cephorus. They saw him mark them, then ap- 
 proach. 
 
 "Fortune is kind," he declared, as he greeted 
 them; "above all men I seek you twain. Black 
 news is up on bitter wings, Caesar." 
 
 "At last then, Mcephorus, you are at the trouble 
 to discriminate between good and bad, and remain 
 no longer indifferent." 
 
 Psellus spoke. 
 
 "We know of no black news," he added. "Per- 
 chance the blackness lies in your own mind. You 
 will not tell us that the Patriarch shares your 
 concern?" 
 
 "No, we see differently," admitted Mcephorus. 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 249 
 
 "Take it, then, that we stand with him, not you." 
 
 " With him,' Michael Psellus ! Know you 
 whither he is going, what doing? Such a man 
 laughs at strategy and wastes no words upon the 
 weak. 'With him,' you say? And does the Caesar 
 echo that? His purpose " 
 
 "We know it and all the world knows it. John 
 Ducas mounts the throne," answered Psellus. 
 
 "Then you are hoodwinked also, Michael — you, 
 who thought that you could read to the heart and 
 pierce all disguises. This dethroning of the 
 Monarch is but a stalking-horse, the feint under 
 cover of which Xiphilin pushes his real forces to 
 the battle." 
 
 "What do you mean, Nicephorus?" asked the 
 Caesar in bewilderment. 
 
 "I mean the dynasty! Attend, while there is 
 time, if indeed there be time left you. Your treach- 
 ery — to dethrone Eudocia — he smiled upon as we 
 smile upon the chatter of children. Have you of 
 late marked the Empress and Xiphilin's brother?" 
 
 "Her eyes are much on him," admitted John 
 Ducas. 
 
 "Her secret thoughts also. Can you not see 
 whereto this leads? Let but Bardas ascend the 
 throne and Xiphilin is omnipotent." 
 
250 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Her oath makes that fancy vain. He has hood- 
 winked you, not us, if he pretends any such thing," 
 declared Psellus. 
 
 "Her oath lies in his hand; and knowing that 
 Bardas courts her, he has absolved her of her oath. 
 Within this living hour she shall be free to wed 
 again !" 
 
 "We met his people," said the Caesar. 
 
 "Yes — hastening for the parchment. Ere you 
 sleep, the oath's annulled." 
 
 Psellus regarded the old man with deep sus- 
 picion. 
 
 "How stand you to this monstrous dream?" he 
 asked, and as he did so, faint music stole from the 
 vineyards. 
 
 "Thus I stand," replied Mcephorus calmly. 
 "Rather than she should wed a Bardas, I'd see 
 her in her coffin. Others can plot as well as you, 
 Michael Psellus, and go deeper far." 
 
 "This, if the truth, is a stroke against our blood — 
 aimed at our very race," exclaimed the Caesar in 
 trepidation. "Did this happen, my brother's son 
 would never see the throne. We must smite while 
 the power is ours." 
 
 "Are you with us, or against us?" asked Psellus. 
 
 "With you, so long as you will that this shall not 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 251 
 
 be," answered Nicephorus. "Trust me and I can 
 enlighten you ; doubt me and I proceed alone. But 
 know that I stand absolutely for the Empress 
 against all who would oppose her." 
 
 "She would do this foul thing to keep her 
 throne," declared Psellus. "No less an ambition 
 could sink her to Bardas. It is an infamy against 
 the royal dead." 
 
 "Blame her not, however, since you know 
 nothing. How should you judge what mighty 
 forces are working upon her heart?" replied Ni- 
 cephorus. 
 
 "Take it that I trust you, and command you to 
 aid me for the dynasty," urged John Ducas. 
 
 "Trust him or not, we may trust Romanus," 
 declared the Prime Minister. "Diogenes is now 
 our hope. Let him be free and we swiftly turn the 
 tables on the Church." 
 
 "An inspiration that I willingly acclaim," 
 admitted Nicephorus. "You hit the truth, Michael. 
 The key lies with Diogenes; and that key I 
 hold." 
 
 The music grew louder, flung into the red air of 
 evening by rough voices and rough instruments. 
 
 "His time has come," continued Nicephorus. 
 "Count on me for the general. Meanwhile keep 
 
252 EUDOCIA 
 
 cheerful faces now, and show no more than deep 
 astonishment when he voices his message. But 
 hide your hearts and waste no anger. Question 
 him, as you design to do, concerning me, and he'll 
 say that I am wise and worthy of trust. He will 
 expect opposition, but offer him none. Restrain 
 yourselves and let him not guess that we have 
 spoken. We'll meet when the world slumbers. 
 Pray seek me after midnight at my house." 
 
 He went his way, and scarcely had disappeared, 
 when the procession from the vineyards streamed 
 into their view. 
 
 Psellus and the Caesar spoke hurriedly to- 
 gether. 
 
 "Can this be true?" asked John Ducas, and the 
 other answered that he believed it. 
 
 "To what end should Mcephorus have spoken 
 if it were false?" he responded. "Only a Xiphilin 
 could have conceived such gigantic crime." 
 
 "Shall we be safe with Mcephorus?" 
 
 "Yes, if we oppose the Patriarch. Meanwhile 
 our own great purpose lies in the dust. This means 
 blood, and the first sword out will shed it. 
 Romanus must be freed. Mcephorus declares Di- 
 ogenes in his power, and if that be so, to-morrow 
 will prove the truth of it. In this shuffle we must, 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 253 
 
 for the present time at least, side with Nicephorus 
 against Xiphilin, even though we pretend to let 
 the Patriarch convince us." 
 
 "He has forced this thing upon Eudocia," said 
 John Ducas; but the other denied it. 
 
 "Look at them," he replied. "See how she walks 
 between Xiphilin and Bardas, and smiles upon 
 both. Is that joy unreal?" 
 
 Now came the Court, to rustic music played on 
 pipes and cymbals. Eudocia led the way with the 
 priest and his brother, while behind them followed 
 the women, the senators and a brilliant throng 
 from the vineyards. Michael Ducas, with Theo- 
 dora and Gregoria, laboured along under mighty 
 bunches of fruit; then marched the soldiers to the 
 spears they had left stuck in the ground around 
 the glade, and resumed their stations. There 
 followed the vintagers with laden hock carts. 
 Mounds of green and purple fruit were piled upon 
 the wains, and mighty, mouse-coloured bullocks, 
 with gilded horns and melting eyes, drew them. 
 The throng of country men, women, and children 
 assembled before Eudocia; then their music 
 changed, and the folk sang an ancient vintage song, 
 relic of pagan days. 
 
254 EUDOCIA 
 
 "The Vintage Song 
 
 "Bless ye the bud and pour the pearly dew; 
 Fling forth a joy of green once more; 
 Awake the glory that anew 
 Leaps in a living fire along our trellised shore. 
 * Ah — yee Theeoneesee ! 
 Ah — yee Theeoneesee! 
 
 'Bless ye the fragrant blossoms when they break 
 Like foam upon the leafy flood; 
 Where honey bees their pleasure take 
 Before the nectar mounts to make the berries' blood. 
 
 Ah — yee Theeoneesee! 
 
 Ah — yee Theeoneesee! 
 
 "Bless ye the swelling grape and load the bough 
 With purple and with amber bright ; 
 The while we praise and lift our vow, 
 Kiss earth with all our knees and own they godhead's 
 might. 
 
 Ah — yee Theeoneesee! 
 Ah — yee Theeoneesee!" 
 
 Others had joined the company while the song 
 was a-singing, for Xiphilin's deacons returned, his 
 cross-bearer and acolyte stood beside him, and 
 there had also come from the cathedral a throng of 
 priests in black and purple, and russet-clad monks. 
 They brought a casket of gold and a small tripod 
 whereon now fire was made. Bardas stood beside 
 Eudocia; Psellus and the Caesar were together in 
 converse with the Patriarch. The Court, aware 
 
 * A7te Aioviaie (phonetically sung). 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 255 
 
 that some unexpected matter was forward, grew 
 intent, clustering like bees about the throne. The 
 vintagers now waited for their expected dole, but 
 the bronze coffer that bore it was not yet to be 
 opened. 
 
 Xiphilin stood forth to address rich and poor 
 with melodious flow of words, while the sunset 
 made more brilliant a concourse already splendid 
 as a pride of peacocks. 
 
 "It is fitting," cried the Patriarch, "that you 
 who have now celebrated our joyous rite of God's 
 good harvest, should hear my weighty words — 
 noble and simple alike — ere home you go, your 
 duty done and your pleasure taken. For I have 
 joyful tidings and wondrous news, that shall echo 
 like heavenly music in all loyal ears. Let it be 
 blazed abroad, to glad our friends and terrify our 
 foes, that I, the humble servant of you all, the will- 
 ing mediator between His faithful ones and most 
 high God, have seen in a vision an angel from 
 the realms of Light and heard, out of his celestial 
 lips, the will of our everlasting Father. 
 
 "Heaven, ye people, hath willed that Eudocia 
 Augusta shall be free. Her realm demands an 
 earthly King to share the throne, and the King of 
 
256 EUDOCIA 
 
 Kings, for love of us all, directs that her oath to 
 Constantine, of glorious memory, be cancelled!" 
 
 Those who apprehended the tremendous signifi- 
 cance of this utterance held their breath in amaze- 
 ment or consternation, while the peasants, hardly 
 understanding, stared in wonder upon the thrilled 
 company from the palace. Through the emotion of 
 the Court, the country people perceived that some 
 tremendous thing was about to happen. 
 
 The Patriarch, having spoken, instantly took the 
 golden box and, opening it, drew out a scroll of 
 vellum, snowy white and sealed with a crimson 
 seal, that hung from a ribbon of silk. 
 
 "Henceforth," he said, "our Empress, in earthly 
 liberty but under heavenly control, must now fol- 
 low where the Lord may will to lead her heart, unto 
 her unknown spouse; for with this parchment, 
 which I now consume in the flames, her oath van- 
 ishes from the records of earth and Heaven alike." 
 
 He gave the scroll to Eudocia and she placed it 
 upon the brazier, where it quickly withered into 
 ashes. All was done with the utmost celerity and 
 no hands from the dazed throng were thrust to 
 intervene, no voices lifted to question. Thereupon 
 the people, having now grasped the meaning of this 
 liberation and seeing future nuptials, future holi- 
 
BESIDE THE VINEYARDS 257 
 
 days, feasting, benefactions and great hours in the 
 hippodrome, shouted very lustily. 
 
 There was much cheering and much concern. The 
 old men grouped and bobbed their heads behind the 
 throne; the priests and monks held together; the 
 folk shouted "Eudocia Augusta!" "A King for 
 the Queen !" "A husband for our Empress !" 
 
 Then the bronze coffer was opened and young 
 Michael first dipped into the gold it contained, to 
 send a shower flying for the peasants. Bardas, 
 Gregoria, Euphrosyne and other young men and 
 women helped him, while the people, scrambling for 
 their gift, cried "Hail, Prince !" "Hail, Michael, 
 son of Constantine !" "Hail, the Protostrator !" 
 
 Xiphilin spoke aside to Psellus and the Caesar, 
 who listened with amazement but displayed no 
 wrath ; the soldiers stood stiff and motionless, and 
 many a gold piece tinkled against their armour 
 where they stretched in a line between the Court 
 and the struggling peasants. 
 
 Then the sun sank and purple shadows spread 
 through the roseal light that still descended from 
 above upon the flash and glitter, the swift surge 
 and movement, the shower of gold pieces, the dust 
 and din of tumbling, sprawling men and boys. 
 
 Radiant, calm, her thoughts with Romanus 
 
258 EUDOCIA 
 
 Diogenes hidden by the shore, her heart envying 
 every drop of the brook that hastened to him, 
 Eudocia sat in the midst, while the pipes still 
 pierced, the shouting and the cymbals crashed. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE CATHEDRAL 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE CATHEDRAL 
 § 1 
 
 That mighty basilica of Justinian, the Church of 
 the Divine Wisdom, lay under a morning of cloud- 
 less blue, and the squat, sunbaked mass of it 
 appeared to exude bubbles, where the gleaming 
 domes hove up above the walls. St. Sophia's is 
 best appreciated from within. Its sprawling plan 
 robs the exterior of the majesty that belongs 
 thereto; but from the side galleries, or within the 
 nave its grandeur may be measured and its dignity 
 felt. The last spoils of paganism adorned this fane 
 and many shrines of obsolescent gods were robbed 
 for its greater glory. We know also that Justinian 
 himself, clad in a workman's blouse, laboured with 
 his ten thousand workmen and master builders; 
 while, when all slept save the watchmen, these 
 guardians related how angelic hosts, answering to 
 the impatience of Heaven, carried on the work by 
 night. Nor should it be forgotten that an arch- 
 
 261 
 
262 EUDOCIA 
 
 angel appeared to a lad who minded the labourers' 
 tools, while they were at their mid-day meal, and 
 bade him recall them to their toil. The boy hesi- 
 tated to abandon his duty, but the spirit com- 
 manded and gave heavenly promise to watch faith- 
 fully in his place until he should return. Upon 
 hearing these things the crafty Emperor instantly 
 despatched the youth, sending him for life to the 
 Cyclades; and thus the outwitted archangel still 
 keeps his promise, and will hold watch so long as 
 St. Sophia's shall stand. 
 
 On the ruins of previous churches rose this mas- 
 terpiece. Four destructions preceded it, and as we 
 view it on Eudocia's wedding day, five hundred 
 years and more after its erection, a venerable age 
 already marked the pile. It was a building already 
 perhaps the most interesting in the world. Mketas 
 Choniates, speaking of the dome, calls it "an earthly 
 heaven; a throne of Divine magnificence, an image 
 of the firmament created by the Almighty." 
 
 But this flower of Byzantine art looked other- 
 wise than now, upon the morning of the royal nup- 
 tials. A cross crowned the prodigious fabric then, 
 and the four marble minarets, to be raised by 
 Islam in later centuries, had not yet leapt from 
 earth at the conqueror's will. 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 263 
 
 To-day the western face of St. Sophia's was 
 adorned with ten thousand silken flags and wreaths 
 of flowers; a wide crimson cloth spread through 
 the porches of the first and second narthex to the 
 Court of the Medresse, but at present this great 
 space was empty, guarded by troops to the north 
 and south, for the Factions had not yet been 
 admitted. 
 
 The air was heavy with the hum of myriads 
 moving in the city. Minor processions came and 
 went along the swarming streets, but only a hand- 
 ful might hope to see the crown of the pageant, and 
 those earliest afoot were already in the cathedral 
 gardens and the Great Court. Thence to the west- 
 ern entry the way was barred ; while the northern 
 Court had been reserved and covered with gay 
 awnings for the officers of State and those bidden 
 to the occasion. 
 
 Soldiers stood together before the western en- 
 trance, or reclined in groups about the balustrade 
 of the stairway. Their duty would be to pen the 
 multitude right and left and set a fence of spears 
 between them and the processions as they entered 
 the cathedral. 
 
 Here, under the pillars of the first narthex, 
 strolled three men already clad in wedding gar- 
 
264 EUDOCIA 
 
 ments. Mcephorus, the Caesar and Michael Psellus 
 were met before the event, and while only the first 
 knew the full outcome of the future, John Ducas 
 and the historian understood from him that the 
 wedding would be opposed and prevented upon the 
 arrival of the bride. All were gorgeously attired 
 for the ceremonial; the royal man glittered with 
 precious stones and precious metal from his diadem 
 to his heels; while his companions only shone less 
 splendid. 
 
 Mcephorus spoke. 
 
 "It is thus with them," he said. "I have now 
 delivered to the Patriarch my ring, which sets 
 Romanus Diogenes free. The Varangians have 
 learned their leader returns to them, and though 
 Xiphilin dreams that he has the Cappadocian and 
 his forces behind himself and Bardas, we know 
 otherwise. What shall be our reward, who thus 
 have fooled the bulwark of Christian Europe, I 
 dare not reflect." 
 
 "He has earned destruction," declared the Caesar, 
 "and deserves that it should fall now; when he 
 stands at the summit of fancied security — safe with 
 the army, and safe with the people, who welcome 
 this outrage as promising more trivial pleasures for 
 themselves." 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 265 
 
 "And there lies a danger we ignore," added 
 Michael Psellus. "The people do most heartily 
 applaud this marriage, and both Factions will 
 oppose all who stand against it. Granted the army 
 is omnipotent and comes between Bardas and 
 Eudocia, what have we to offer Constantinople for 
 its disappointment? The Empress, also, will need 
 to be reckoned with. Now that she is free of her 
 oath, the need for swift deposition, in my judg- 
 ment, grows greater even than before." 
 
 "She will not brook this bitter trial easily," ad- 
 mitted the Caesar, "or remain supine before the 
 down-throw of her dreams. Moreover the nation 
 will support her cause. To deal with Xiphilin 
 may not be difficult if we have the army ; but what 
 if Romanus declines to move against the Empress? 
 My thoughts are much with her and I mourn for 
 the woman's griefs. Indeed this may break her 
 proud heart." 
 
 "Freed from dread of threatened kingship, John 
 Ducas breathes again," commented Nicephorus. 
 "Mourn her not, soft-hearted Caesar. In her reso- 
 lute spirit lies a precious possession — the touch- 
 stone of kings. Her sure determination has ever 
 been to put the State before personal desire, and 
 when the deadly danger and real meaning of her 
 
266 EUDOGIA 
 
 love for Bardas are set before her presently, she 
 will renounce him and bend to circumstance." 
 
 "It is well to prophesy, but who shall convince 
 her on the very threshold of her longed-for 
 happiness?" 
 
 "Not you, Michael, nor the Caesar, nor I. To-day, 
 since the people's destiny is involved, we will let 
 them cast the vote and strut, for once, the centre of 
 the stage. What more seemly, for do they not love 
 her and proclaim her their Mother? Our stroke 
 shall be, then, to cast the burthen on them, know- 
 ing that under skilled inspiration, they will carry 
 it which way we intend." 
 
 Psellus showed impatience. 
 
 "Still you play with ambiguous words and keep 
 us groping," he answered. "The people have al- 
 ready chosen. They rejoice that Bardas shall be 
 King and dote on him for the new toys he has 
 already promised them. They will most surely 
 stand beside the Patriarch." 
 
 "And the Senate also goes with Xiphilin to a 
 man," explained John Ducas. "He has won the 
 highest to his side with fabulous bribes and 
 squandered the wealth of the Church in secret. 
 He has forgotten nothing. He may, indeed, have 
 won Romanus behind our backs." 
 
THE CATHEDRAL W7 
 
 "That, at least, should be beyond his power." 
 replied Nicephorus; "and for the Factions and 
 Senate, they are made alike, to barter the common 
 weal for pleasure and pelf. They do not hide their 
 mean ambitions. But keep steadfast hearts. To- 
 day a comet should reign over us, for great omens 
 are to come and you shall see twain mighty forces 
 combining, to flow in one resistless flood. The 
 Crown and People will move in harmonious unison ; 
 I see the certainty and greet already the result. 
 Believe me, within this hour our self-sacrificing 
 Eudocia shall weave a new and living bond be- 
 tween her heart and theirs." 
 
 Psellus shook his head. 
 
 "An idle fantasy. Did you not once remind 
 Xiphilin that she was, after all, a woman? Now 
 yourself you need to remember that. You assume 
 that she will sacrifice all that she desires and hopes 
 without a murmur, or a pang, and fling herself 
 upon the people. But if you knew the awful km 
 of women for those who win their hearts, you'd 
 perceive that this nebulous idea — her goodwill to 
 the mingled rout she calls her nation — must weigh 
 as thistledown against it. Her love for Bardas is 
 the life's blood in her veins; her affection for her 
 people, one with the regalia and trappings of 
 
268 EUDOCIA 
 
 royalty — donned for the public eye, and no more 
 a part of the woman than her clothes." 
 
 "Most true," declared the Caesar. "This appal- 
 ling surprise and discomfiture may well unseat her 
 reason and disgrace the day. She might even 
 publicly renounce the Throne. And what is worst 
 and most calculated to drown her spirit in gall 
 appears in this: that Romanus Diogenes strikes 
 the fatal blow." 
 
 "We strike the blow; he drives it home," said 
 Michael Psellus. 
 
 "She is made of far sterner stuff than any man 
 can guess at," answered Eudocia's ancient coun- 
 sellor. "Believe me, we can trust her." 
 
 "Even so, you certainly cannot trust the people 
 to oppose her. What if they insist on the Protos- 
 trator?" asked Psellus. 
 
 Then the great bell of the cathedral beat noon, 
 and Mcephorus reminded his companions that the 
 tolling stood for a signal. 
 
 "We will get within for a space and address 
 them presently before the Patriarch, when they 
 have settled to their stations. As for your question, 
 Michael Psellus, trust me a little yet, both of you 
 — at least in this: to make such short work with 
 our Protostrator that he'll vanish like a leaf in the 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 269 
 
 wind before the breath of the public lungs. They 
 love him not : only what he gives them. When did 
 the people know gratitude?" 
 
 They retired into the cathedral and there still 
 walked and talked, while the barriers fell in many 
 streets and both the Factions, like a sea of billows, 
 green and blue, came surging to the cathedral 
 steps. They poured to their appointed places, the 
 "Greens" upon one side, the "Blues" upon the other, 
 while the soldiers lowered their spears to form a 
 pale, waist-high, between the shouting thousands 
 and the central ascent under its crimson carpet. 
 For once the Factions were in holiday humour. 
 Indeed, of late years their differences had become 
 trifling, and the terrific battles and bloodshed of 
 Justinian days were forgotten. Most vital ques- 
 tions now stood composed, and their rivalries cen- 
 tred in the hippodrome; their opposed champions 
 were athletes. The Empress found herself well 
 beloved by both parties, and they brought nothing 
 but good temper to the present festival. They bel- 
 lowed cheerfully across the intervening space, ex- 
 changed the names of great men and chaffed their 
 mail-clad guardians, while they fluttered their 
 scarves and displayed on a hundred banners of 
 welcome their rival colours. Chiefly they cried for 
 
270 EUDOCIA 
 
 "Bardas" with high approval. About the Protos- 
 trator's name centred such friendship and regard 
 that it seemed already the crown was upon his 
 head. Yet one who knew the mob and its heart 
 from the experience of a lifetime, came now with- 
 out fear to throw down the idol of the hour. 
 
 Eminent men ascended the steps and entered the 
 cathedral. They were greeted, some with applause, 
 some with hisses; and when their popularity be- 
 longed to one Faction alone, mingled cheers and 
 groans awaited them as, impervious to either, they 
 appeared. 
 
 Then the great central door of St. Sophia's was 
 thrown open and a concourse streamed out from 
 under the shadows of the first narthex and grouped 
 above the people. There came bishops, priests and 
 monks — the prelates, bright as birds of paradise, 
 in copes and mitres. A host of lesser dignatories 
 surrounded them, while Xiphilin, shining in utmost 
 splendour, followed under a towering cross of gems. 
 Mcephorus, Psellus and the Caesar were with him. 
 They stood at his right hand, while he addressed 
 the Factions. 
 
 Men and women had knelt at his entrance, and 
 now all rose to their feet and listened to his 
 harangue. 
 
 "Auspicious the hour and happy this people !" 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 271 
 
 began the Patriarch, "for here are we united in the 
 hands of faith, loyalty and love, making common 
 cause to bless our own good fortune. Yes, happy 
 indeed are ye, for Heaven bestows upon your 
 Kingdom one ye have long honoured, to share the 
 life of our sovereign lady. My noble brother, 
 Bardas, loves you too, and none before his time 
 hath wrought so faithfully, so zealously to give the 
 people joy. Oh, ye Factions, how little did I guess 
 that when the Empress was released by Heaven of 
 her bond, a radiant, human love should light her 
 pathway to one of my own race! Yet now the 
 ancient and unsullied line from which I spring is 
 called both to the heights of Church and State, 
 where, in the name of God, and ever jealous for His 
 righteousness, as Priest and King, we dedicate 
 ourselves unto your eternal and temporal welfare." 
 
 The Factions cheered and manifested utmost 
 enthusiasm. "Eudocia and Bardas!" they cried; 
 and "Long life for the Patriarch !" 
 
 Psellus spoke to Nicephorus. 
 
 "How shall you change that concurrent and 
 emphatic howl of one united will?" he asked ; while 
 C«sar uttered a vain wish. 
 
 "If we could get the Factions in two minds," he 
 said. 
 
 "Nay ; in one mind I would have them," answered 
 
272 EUDOCIA 
 
 the elder. "In one mind, so that they wheel to- 
 gether simultaneously, like birds that warp upon 
 the air, when an impulse changes their direction 
 and turns the flight of a thousand as the flight of 
 one. Soon they shall dart to a new purpose, as 
 shoals of shadow-frightened fishes dart — inspired 
 by sudden fear of ill." 
 
 "Where is the syren voice can turn this multi- 
 tude from its settled hope?" asked Psellus. 
 
 "A weather-cock answers one wind at a time — 
 and that the last," replied the statesman. 
 
 Then Xiphilin approached. 
 
 "Speak to them, Mcephorus," he said. "They 
 desire at all times to hear your voice." 
 
 "Why, so I will," answered the old man, and 
 Xiphilin turned to the Factions. 
 
 "Give heed to your lifelong friend, the most 
 noble Mcephorus," he cried, and the folk shouted 
 "Mcephorus !" "Our friend !" "Hail, Mcephorus !" 
 
 The counsellor stood out before them, and 
 Psellus, before he left his side, whispered a word. 
 
 "We'll guard you if they show their teeth." 
 
 But the old man feared nothing. 
 
 "My tongue has already saved my life," he said, 
 "and may again. As for these, I fear them less 
 than an old harper dreads the strings he strikes. 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 273 
 
 The mob is a lyre easily played upon, given mastery 
 in the performer. If I waken discords blame me, 
 not them." 
 
 He turned to the Factions, gravely saluting both 
 "Greens" and "Blues" before he addressed them. 
 
 "Listen well to me, ye last holders of the glori- 
 ous name of Rome ; give heed before it is too late, 
 lest infamy and statecraft turn this city to a prison- 
 house, whose gaolers stamp out your liberties with 
 iron-shod feet. To-day, even in this glad hour, our 
 foes threaten to strangle all our feeble strength, 
 and fear no more our answer than the wail of gnats. 
 But shall our courage and our virtue also be stolen 
 from us? Is our genius dead that we, whose feet 
 have trampled Asia and left their stamp on all 
 foreign earths, now whine as though we were chil- 
 dren hurried off to bed because the sun has set? 
 With you, men of the Factions, now it lies to an- 
 swer and determine whether court intrigues and 
 party interest, personal hatreds, frauds and dark 
 diplomacy, hatched in corners out of sight, shall 
 fatally wound your glorious destiny, befoul your 
 patriot hopes, destroy your fame and bind you and 
 your children hand and foot — defenceless slaves." 
 
 "Cease! Cease!" cried Xiphilin. "Are you mad, 
 Nicephorus? What key is this to tune their 
 
274 EUDOCIA 
 
 thoughts on Eudocia's wedding day? What peril- 
 ous ground do you tread?" 
 
 "And fearlessly tread since I am shod with the 
 shoon of candour," answered the other for all to 
 hear. "Now I play no more on one man's heart, 
 but seek to wake some echo of the old, mighty music 
 from the hearts of the nation. The way that we 
 shall tread lies upon firm, not perilous, ground, 
 Patriarch of the East ; the pitfalls gape on yours !" 
 
 He turned again to the people. 
 
 "To loyalty and manhood I address myself — to 
 these who are Constantinople. Men, men, be deaf 
 no more to the gathering moan and murmur at the 
 very palace doors of your Byzantium ; be blind no 
 more to the despotism subtly planned by this un- 
 priestly hierarch ! All action is caged and shackled 
 by his cunning. He plots away your sole and 
 sacred heritage — free thought for all free people; 
 and by the chains that he has forged in secret and 
 to-day would publicly set upon the necks of us all, 
 we're doubly bound, in mind and body. Thus shall 
 we be an innocent prey to our enemies, who crouch 
 at hand to make the tiger spring that lays us dead ! 
 No nation can survive such a double yoke; and if 
 you still would save your liberty, then rise, all men 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 275 
 
 as one, deny and confound these nuptials, fight for 
 liberty before it is too late !" 
 
 Immense commotion ran like a heaving wave 
 through the multitude. About Xiphilin, now 
 grown flaming and furious, the churchmen 
 thronged; while the "Greens" and "Blues" listened 
 in mingled alarm and doubt. Thus far Nicephorus 
 had held them; but now, while many shouted ap- 
 proval, others sided with the Patriarch and cried 
 "traitor" against him. These and himself now 
 Xiphilin voiced in furious passion. He seemed 
 disposed to rush upon Nicephorus, and threatened 
 Heaven's aid to destroy him. 
 
 "Peace, profane and traitorous wretch!" he 
 cried, "else will I call God's Hand upon thy 
 throat." 
 
 Nicephorus made answer, but to the people, not 
 the Patriarch. 
 
 "The traitor lies in the heart under that breast- 
 plate," he replied. "Courtiers — priests — eunuchs 
 — that is the servile pageant Empress Eudocia is 
 bidden to keep — that is the foul stuff through 
 which she has to step day by day. And that 
 masquerade is all we show the world. We play at 
 life ; we abuse our womanish manhood and wander 
 
276 EUDOCIA 
 
 in shameless dreams, like rustics through a fair 
 gaping at shows. Come, ye listening men, tell me, 
 tell me, where are the Nation's triumphs? In the 
 hippodrome. Whence spring our heroes? Only 
 from the circus. Where blaze our mightiest strokes 
 of grandeur, splendour, power? In church ; so that 
 we find clergymen, gladiators and charioteers are 
 all we can number to defeat Alp Arslan, when the 
 Saracens come with fifty thousand spears. Where 
 are our spears? Where is the sword of fire whose 
 flash aforetime blinded half the world? Where 
 are those men whose tramplings shook the earth 
 and flung their thunder to the stars? Tell me 
 where has vanished that ancient music? Tell me 
 why you better love the blare of circus trumpets 
 and the moan of organ reeds shaken by the wind? 
 But such weak melodies reach not to any fainting 
 province; they who thirst to hear salvation on the 
 march will not be comforted with our hymns. 
 
 "The Franks are near — those barbarians, num- 
 berless and grim as death, whom the genius of a 
 Charlemagne summoned from the antres of the 
 North and made into a people. The Arabs, our 
 old, inveterate foes, waste the Empire, slaughter 
 your brothers like rats and drive your sisters into 
 cursed slavery. The Latins hate our name and 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 277 
 
 hound us from their sight; the Ottomans trample 
 the futile servants of Christ beneath their horses' 
 hooves, laughing at us and whipping us for our 
 cowardice. And now, while helpless, friendless, 
 stricken, we stand the scorn of Christendom, there 
 shines suddenly a light above our heads! We are 
 not forgotten, my patient friends, and on celestial 
 paths from Heaven, a new hope sweeps to warm our 
 hearts and save our souls. The Empress is free; 
 Eudocia Augusta lies in the hollow of her people's 
 hand; and love of any human lover is nought to 
 her compared with her love of that wide and glori- 
 ous humanity which makes up her nation. Her 
 first, deepest, purest passion is yours alone. And 
 this I tell you and in her royal ear shall proclaim, 
 that in these awful times, the Nation must be 
 leader. It is for you, fathers of Constantinople, to 
 stand upon your immemorial right and in your 
 citizen wisdom see that for our Emperor we have 
 a man — a man of regal might, a man of war, a man 
 of sovereign strength to do your will and stem this 
 tide of evil that flows in flood to sweep all away !" 
 Nicephorus with these easy platitudes was break- 
 ing down what opposition remained. His naked 
 adulation tickled ten thousand ears. The people 
 shouted "Nicephorus knows!" "We are the wise 
 
278 EUDOCIA 
 
 ones!" "A man for Emperor!" "A mighty man 
 to reign over us!" 
 
 The old fox proceeded : 
 
 "Most sagely spoken, and in you alone can she 
 trust at this great hour ; there is none else, for your 
 deep voice and not the buzz of Court, or Church, 
 echoes the eternal mandate. A man of men is our 
 vital need, and woe betide the statecraft that would 
 fob you off with shadows. You are right — i Blues' 
 and 'Greens' both; and look to it that you have 
 your way while yet you can; for fail now, and 
 swift, bloody Nemesis will fling all in the dust." 
 
 "Who but a man shall wed her?" roared 
 Xiphilin. "Where's the man to vie with Bardas 
 in the nation's love and honour? Who is dearer 
 to the hearts of all than he, thou traitor to the 
 Throne?" 
 
 " 'Traitor?' " asked Nicephorus. "Yes, high 
 priest, to thee I am a traitor, but not to them, and 
 not to their Empress. Shall this tame thing — this 
 keeper of hawks and hounds be rayed in the sacred 
 purple? Shall this spark with a curled beard, who 
 plays a dulcimer and kisses women's fingers, win 
 the smile of Mars and lop the heads of a million 
 foes? Shall this poppinjay, so skilled in taming 
 gazelles and love birds, know how to tame Alp 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 279 
 
 Arslan when he meets him face to face, but not 
 rather ape Jehovah and show only his hinder parts? 
 Shall Bardas, who pours ointment on his hair, pour 
 fire upon the Saracens? Shall he, who bathes his 
 carcase in milk and wine, while children are hungry 
 and men thirsty, go forth in galling steel to drive 
 off the wolves, whose howling upon stilly nights 
 echoes its baleful promise along our walls? Shall 
 mincing, faithless, shameless Bardas come as the 
 day spring of our hopes to lift the sun and wake 
 the clarions of victory? Never while we are sane !" 
 At this significant moment fate smiled upon 
 Nicephorus and brought the Procession of the 
 Bridegroom. 
 
 § 2 
 
 The Protostrator had followed his mind's meagre 
 bent, and thinking to win all by the reminder of 
 those pastimes for which he stood, brought along 
 with him a train of circus folk — gladiators, chario- 
 teers of the "Green" and "Blue," boxers, acrobats 
 and huge beasts, presently to fight and perish upon 
 each other's horns and tusks for the pleasure of the 
 mob. Elephants, tigers, rhinoceroses, chained and 
 
280 EUDOCIA 
 
 guarded, came first and passed by the silent 
 Factions. Then, when they were gone, followed 
 the great performers and favourites, and presently 
 there marched the bridegroom's bodyguard — a hun- 
 dred little boys, long-haired, clad like parokeets and 
 flashing in the sunshine. 
 
 Lastly walked Bardas alone — a very rainbow — in 
 a long frock stiff with gems, a hat of gold upon his 
 brow and a heavy wand of gold in his hand. But 
 his pageant departed to bewildering silence that 
 already made his knees shake ; and as he ascended 
 the crimson footcloth, his heart also shook, for 
 instead of the thunder of applauding thousands he 
 had counted upon, there came to his dumbfounded 
 ear a deep-mouthed growl. 
 
 Then Mcephorus continued: 
 
 "See your salvation, Constantinople! Welcome 
 your Emperor! Kneel to this doll who toddles to 
 the Throne of the East!" 
 
 There came the answering roar: "No Bardas!" 
 "Away with him!" "Give us a man!" 
 
 The Protostrator in acute alarm reached his 
 brother's side, to find that all had gone amiss. But 
 Xiphilin was quick to counsel. 
 
 "Treason is loose — treason to the Queen and her 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 281 
 
 affianced," he said. "Caesar gapes like a stuck pig 
 and this hoary knave is set to ruin our cause. They 
 yell for a man; then show them you are a man! 
 Draw your blade and strike down Nicephorus. He 
 stands for nothing but himself. Let the Factions 
 see you will not brook this villainy. Slay him 
 before them, and they will do the rest." 
 
 His words fell over each other and he trembled 
 with fury. 
 
 Nicephorus spoke. 
 
 "Aye, they will do the rest; therefore yield to a 
 greater power than your own. Our people have 
 heard and their eyes have seen. They do not will 
 this puppet set upon the throne for you to pull the 
 strings. Wise they are and most prevenient. They 
 dare not see the tables of our law derided by a 
 priest." 
 
 "What of the Empress then?" asked Bardas, his 
 hand on his dagger, his heart fluttering under the 
 gathering din of the Factions. 
 
 "She has yet to know her people's will," answered 
 Nicephorus. "That, indeed, we all must know and 
 reverence." 
 
 Bardas turned to his brother and spoke in his 
 ear. 
 
l'Sl' EUDOCIA 
 
 "We're safe enough. Romanus Diogenes is free 
 and with his legions. They will be here as swiftly 
 as the Empress, to succour us and her." 
 
 "Do we know that he will pardon her?" asked 
 Xiphilin. 
 
 "We do," answered Bardas. "I was with him 
 in secret last night and have his oath that he is on 
 her side." 
 
 Then Michael Psellus joined in the perfidy of 
 intrigue, cross lies and oaths. He had planned to 
 side with the Patriarch until the last moment; 
 though neither he nor John Ducas knew of this 
 final throw and the larger scheme of Mcephorus, to 
 let the Factions play out their comedy. Now the 
 historian spoke to Xiphilin and still posed as his 
 friend. 
 
 "Be of good hope. He is near. Under this up- 
 roar I hear the steady fall of the Varangians' feet. 
 He'll strike at Eudocia's nod, and silence this mad 
 trash." 
 
 The Factions were out of hand ; they shouted for 
 Nicephorus and howled against the bridegroom, 
 where he stood among the churchmen. The guard 
 held men and women back with difficulty, and here 
 and there they smote with flat swords to quell the 
 ringleaders. 
 
 "A man for Emperor !" roared the mob. "Bardas 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 283 
 
 shall not reign!" "The Patriarch shall not reign 
 over ns !" "No priest for Emperor !" 
 
 At the height of the confusion the royal trumpets 
 thrilled and restored peace. Their silvery scream 
 grew nearer, and the Procession of the Bride 
 approached. 
 
 For the Empress remained a generous and 
 friendly greeting. "Eudocia Augusta!" "Our 
 Queen!" "Our Mother!" began to shout the 
 people. 
 
 Meantime Xiphilin doubted and answered 
 Psellus. 
 
 "Who can be sure that Romanus is loyal? It- 
 was he — this wolf in sheep's clothing — who yielded 
 me the ring to set him free." 
 
 "The biter's bit," replied Psellus. "A mightier 
 wolf than he shall consume him, and soon his 
 venomous carcass will writhe under a thousand 
 swords, since that coward fears to strike." 
 
 He pointed at Bardas, but the Protostrator was 
 far beyond any shame at personal insults. His ears 
 strained for the armies; his terrified eyes thirsted 
 for Romanus. 
 
 "When he comes we will withdraw with Eudocia 
 into the cathedral, and he can hold the populace at 
 the door until we're wed," he told them. 
 
 Then he uttered an exclamation of relief. 
 
284 EUDOCIA 
 
 "The armies move!" he cried. "Hold together 
 a minute longer and we are saved.' ' 
 
 The distant tramp deepened and all heard great 
 forces marching. 
 
 A tremor seized Bardas. He clutched the shoul- 
 der of his brother. 
 
 "My God ! If she has changed her mind I shall 
 lose my head, Xiphilin." 
 
 "She has not changed her mind. It is these dregs 
 of the city, stirred by him, that threaten this 
 dangerous evil. It is he and you, who lacked man- 
 hood to slay the old ruffian, who are equally to 
 blame." 
 
 "Eudocia Augusta! Eudocia, Empress!" 
 "Welcome our Mother!" "God bless our 
 Queen!" So shouted the Factions as the Bride's 
 Procession poured out before the cathedral steps. 
 
 In an open litter came Eudocia with a guard of 
 Court soldiery about her — giants, every man. She 
 was clad in white and moved like a woman made 
 of pearl. The tiara was upon her head, and in her 
 hands the orb and sceptre. Girls flung a shower 
 of flowers before her feet as she alighted, and the 
 crimson cloth was soon white with a snow of 
 blossoms. Her son, Michael, walked beside her as 
 her own page, and behind them came fifty maidens 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 285 
 
 all in azure, wearing golden chaplets from which 
 floated rosy veils. Following them walked Irene 
 and Gregoria, Maria and Euphrosyne, with many 
 matrons and noble women ; but Theodora was ill of 
 a fever and could not come. Senators and Patri- 
 cians crowded upon this company, and when the 
 Patriarch descended to meet Eudocia, the Factions, 
 with one hurricane shout of greeting, flung out 
 their scarves on either side of the great stairway in 
 a whirlwind of blue and green. Joy and welcome 
 was in the thunder of their cheering, and for a 
 moment it seemed that Bardas had been forgot. 
 But still the people cried : "A man for Emperor !" 
 
 It was at this moment that Michael Psellus took 
 his opportunity to quit the priestly forces and 
 range himself where the Caesar stood beside 
 Nicephorus. 
 
 And then the truth burst upon Eudocia's senses 
 and she revealed amazement at an ugly sound 
 which greeted her betrothed as he thrust forward 
 after his brother. She had reached the upmost 
 step and welcomed Bardas, when the harsh peal 
 struck her. 
 
 "Down with him!" "Down with Bardas!" 
 Xiphilin shall not reign!" yelled the mob, its 
 many eyes on Nicephorus. 
 
286 EUDOCIA 
 
 Eudocia started, then stood still, as though sud- 
 denly turned into a glittering white stone. She 
 moved at last and handed the orb and sceptre to a 
 chamberlain. Then she addressed the Protostrator. 
 
 "What is here, Bardas? Why this frosty wel- 
 come? Do they not love you?" 
 
 "I thought they did," he answered. "But yonder 
 aged serpent you set free has been pouring poison 
 in their ears." 
 
 "And into their hearts," added Xiphilin. "Here, 
 on holy ground, he preached sedition and opposed 
 their love for us all." 
 
 "Mcephorus !" cried Eudocia in a sudden silence, 
 while every eye searched her. 
 
 "Aye, that villain damned to the uttermost hell 
 of Judas and black Brutus!" answered Xiphilin. 
 "See now how the Caesar ranges beside him, and 
 Psellus — our friend till you appeared — has also 
 gone over. Slay him now! Bid them destroy the 
 man before your people and cleanse the infected 
 air. Only his death will convince this besotted 
 multitude that he is false. Bid Bardas draw and 
 smite him under Heaven's avenging eye!" 
 
 Eudocia exhibited profound astonishment, con- 
 fusion and grief. 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 287 
 
 "Then is Nicephorus not our friend?" she asked. 
 
 "Your bitterest enemy on earth — the devil that 
 would bring down Church and Throne together." 
 
 All waited for Eudocia's answer, and she spoke 
 clear and loud. 
 
 "If that be so, you, Bardas, who have come to 
 wed your Queen, draw instantly your dagger and 
 slay her foe." 
 
 But the craven was powerless. 
 
 "I — I — cannot send his sinful soul to hell. I 
 have never slain a man." 
 
 "Then slay yourself — that's not to slay a man!" 
 piped a thin, acid voice. It was Saurus, and the 
 people, seeing his familiar figure in holiday blazon, 
 cried approval. "Kill yourself!" "Away with 
 Bardas!" "Eat him!" they shouted; and "Long 
 live the Lizard!" bellowed the "Greens," who held 
 the dwarf of their Faction. 
 
 The march of the army sounded louder. A drift 
 of white dust came before. 
 
 "Kill him and strike him dumb!" urged 
 Xiphilin ; then Nicephorus spoke. 
 
 "Haste, Bardas, haste!" he said. "I wait my 
 death. Fear not ; the road is short through a gate 
 of lean ribs to this old heart." 
 
288 EUDOCIA 
 
 But he would not strike. Instead he cursed. 
 
 "God of Light, am I an executioner? Call slaves 
 and strangle him!" 
 
 The troops came onward, swinging into the great 
 blazing square before St. Sophia's. Company after 
 company they strode — masses of men under their 
 officers, armed with swords and bucklers, beneath 
 the banners of battle. 
 
 Bardas broke off. 
 
 "Romanus comes!" he shouted, and again 
 Eudocia, keeping within her part, revealed aston- 
 ishment. 
 
 " 'Romanus comes?' " she echoed. "Who has 
 dared to free Romanus Diogenes?" 
 
 "Ask that knave," answered Xiphilin. "He set 
 the soldier free for treachery ; and let him reap the 
 first harvest of these loyal swords. Fear thou not 
 Romanus, Majesty. He will support the right 
 against this man — aye and against the Caesar too. 
 Hasten forward — enter with Bardas and trust the 
 general and his Varangians to hold back this rag- 
 tail rout." 
 
 "What say you?" she asked. "John Ducas a 
 traitor — Constantine's brother a traitor to my son? 
 And our people our enemies? You are fallen into 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 289 
 
 madness, Patriarch. Let but a soldier hurt one of 
 our children and he wounds Eudocia Augusta." 
 
 A silence followed, while every man and woman 
 of the thousands crowded upon that scene watched 
 the great battalions wheel and halt. To right and 
 left they massed ; then through their midst, on foot, 
 with a dozen of his officers, came Diogenes — a 
 mighty figure in blue steel, armed as though for 
 war. Sternly he swept forward, his black-crested 
 helmet some inches above the best that strode with 
 him. The crowd roared a doubtful greeting and 
 many trembled, both high and low ; for the dullest 
 had perceived that here, before this sudden advent 
 of irresistible, armed power and discipline, diplo- 
 macy and the voice of the mob were alike of no 
 avail. The key of the situation lay wholly with 
 Romanus, and fear began to instil the many hearts 
 that knew of his imprisonment. But the soldiers 
 were lost in joy at their leader's return. There was 
 no anger in their faces. It seemed they bore the 
 State no grudge. 
 
 § 3 
 The troops and officers saluted Eudocia where 
 now she stood alone on the topmost stair. Behind 
 
290 EUDOCIA 
 
 her was the darkness of the great central entrance, 
 now thrown open. Upon her right hand huddled 
 Xiphilin, Bardas, the monks and priests, the 
 acolytes and sacred emblems. At her left, equally 
 withdrawn from her, were Nicephorus, Psellus and 
 the Caesar, with little Michael Ducas beside Saurus 
 and the women. 
 
 Again the scarves of the Factions danced and 
 their lungs gave out a mighty roar as Romanus 
 walked up the stairway. 
 
 He stopped before Eudocia and once more 
 saluted. 
 
 "How comes it that Romanus Diogenes, at our 
 command cast into prison for grave faults, is free?" 
 she asked, speaking slowly and shutting her eyes 
 to hide her delight. 
 
 He bowed his head, then lifted it and spoke that 
 all might hear. 
 
 "On this great day, Eudocia Augusta, your 
 armies hungered to share the universal exultation ; 
 and I have heard, Divine One, that it was your will 
 for a brief hour to let me look upon your face again. 
 A prisoner I come, and if upon this day, so rich in 
 hope for all your Empire, you cannot pardon me, 
 then I return under seal of my unbroken faith to 
 Marmora. Or free, or bound, I love you with an 
 absolute unquenched loyalty ; I only pray to devote 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 291 
 
 my life to your cause and, if need be, lose my life to 
 maintain your sacred throne." 
 
 The Factions proclaimed their satisfaction and 
 boldly called upon the Queen to pardon her gen- 
 eral ; but still it seemed that she was doubtful. Her 
 part was now to yield a little of her own vast popu- 
 larity into the safe keeping of Romanus. 
 
 "Audacious one!" she said. "But if my people 
 love you " 
 
 Then, Xiphilin, on thorns to get the affianced 
 pair to the altar, spoke vehemently. 
 
 "Nay, pardon him without demur, Majesty, and 
 end this most dangerous farce. Peril lurks in it, 
 therefore crown the hour with blessed mercy, forget 
 the past and win the vital succour of this honest 
 man. Never have you needed honesty about you 
 as at this moment, while knaves share the very air 
 you breathe and spread pestilence upon your inno- 
 cent subjects." 
 
 "Hear us, then," she said. "And let Romanus 
 Diogenes also hear. Ever ready to heed your 
 united voices, we are pleased to restore our general 
 to his heroic and devoted troops, that he may lead 
 their might against the enemy. To-day let them 
 and him and his brave leaders rejoice with all of 
 us, and soon we promise him a grateful nation's aid 
 — wholehearted and ungrudging — to strengthen his 
 
292 EUDOCIA 
 
 needs and fit him for his tremendous task. Hence- 
 forth we trust Romanus Diogenes, much value 
 him, and take his fearless love as an earnest of his 
 pains to fight and conquer for our realm." 
 
 The Factions shouted approval and the troops 
 added a strange quality to the din, for they made 
 a hollow thunder by beating on their shields with 
 their swords. 
 
 Then Romanus, having first knelt, and risen 
 again, replied: 
 
 "Before anointed Majesty I make my vow to do 
 her will with all my wit and strength and soul. 
 From her royal inspiration her armies, led by a 
 thousand faithful men, of whom I am but one, shall 
 win such might that soon her myriad foes must be 
 her slaves." 
 
 Eudocia, now smiling, spoke in joyous tones: 
 
 "So be it, Romanus. You have answered 
 graciously and we are well content. Now to our 
 nuptials you are bidden, since, guided by God's 
 angel, Xiphilin, our reverend Patriarch, hath set 
 me free to wed at the dictates of my heart." 
 
 She turned and again Bardas stepped to her side ; 
 but though he approached boldly, his feet soon 
 dragged before the ominous yell of anger that broke 
 from both Factions. They were in earnest and had 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 293 
 
 not forgotten. Rage made their voices ugly as they 
 bawled again: "A man for Emperor!" "Bardas 
 shall not reign!" 
 
 Then Eudocia, waving the bridegroom back from 
 this challenge, addressed herself once more to the 
 people. 
 
 "Answer us," she said. "Do you not will that 
 Bardas, the brother of your Patriarch, shall be your 
 King?" 
 
 Xiphilin was at her elbow while the Factions 
 shouted their reply. 
 
 "Bandy no words ! Be swift. What madness is 
 this, to cast your destiny to them?" 
 
 "Nay," she said. "Mad, or sane, I must know. 
 See, they love him not. There is no voice lifted for 
 him." 
 
 "You court a monster," he hissed under his 
 breath, his eyes on Nicephorus. "When did power 
 defer to the passion and ignorance of the mass? 
 They only echo that accursed traitor. Slay Nice- 
 phorus ; then turn from them and bid Diogenes hold 
 them here. Take my brother's hand swiftly and go 
 with him. They will snarl awhile, but forget all 
 when herded in the hippodrome. In God's name do 
 not play with this danger." 
 
 "My destiny lies with my people," she answered 
 
294 EUDOCIA 
 
 loudly, and the Factions roared again their parrot 
 cry: "A man for Emperor!" "Xiphilin shall not 
 reign !" "Away with Bardas !" 
 
 The Protostrator had fallen from fear into rage. 
 He issued an order to Romanus. 
 
 "Slay this old jackal first, then sweep the 
 Factions back!" he cried. "Order a legion to set 
 barriers between them and us." 
 
 But the great man in steel ignored him and 
 turned to Eudocia. 
 
 "Is it Majesty's will I drive them off?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Touch them and you destroy me," she answered, 
 then faced the crowd, while John Ducas and Psellus 
 stared to see emerge at last the true meaning of all 
 that was done, and Mcephorus, intent on every 
 word, smiled in his heart at the royal pupil's ac- 
 complishment. Each syllable, each gesture was as 
 perfect as wit and love could make it. 
 
 "These men and women are myself!" declared 
 the Empress, sweeping her hands and arms to right 
 and left. "Their will is mine — my only pride and 
 content is to be in their true hearts. There only 
 my throne is set, and there I reign, or nowhere. 
 Let them hear how well I trust them ; let this peo- 
 ple feel that I am theirs — their mother, their sister, 
 their Queen ! For me the Factions do not exist ; I 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 295 
 
 recognise and reign for one united people, to whom 
 I am precious, while to my heart they are dearer 
 far than crown and orb and sceptre. Let them 
 speak fearlessly in this great moment, tell me their 
 thoughts and declare their omnipotent will, 
 whether widowed I shall remain and rule alone, 
 or, at their wish, learn to love one whom they love. 
 And, if that be so, and they crave an Emperor, let 
 them declare him, so that I may know which way 
 their spirit turns!" 
 
 The Factions burst upon this speech with a 
 reverberation of many cheers. "Eudocia trusts 
 us!" they shouted. "We are the wise ones!" 
 "Eudocia Augusta loves us !" "She is our Mother !" 
 
 And then, acting no more, but deeply moved by 
 this emotional display, Eudocia called them to come 
 to her, bade her guards lower their spears and, for 
 the first time in Byzantine history, suffered the folk 
 at the hem of a royal garment. 
 
 "Closer come!" she cried, as the women of the 
 people, awed to silence, but braver than their men, 
 went forward. "Come, ye women, come men also 
 — all are dear to us." 
 
 Then she dropped royalty and spoke in her own 
 person, while a hundred courtiers trembled to see 
 the "Greens" and "Blues" flow close about her. 
 
 She seemed lost awhile in the flying scarves of 
 
296 EUDOCIA 
 
 the Factions, and her tall, white shape sank in the 
 billows of blue and green. But they only sur- 
 rounded and made clumsy obeisance; they did not 
 touch the hands she outstretched to them. 
 
 "Choose my husband for me!" she said. "Raise 
 to my side your sovereign choice, my people — a 
 man worthy of your throne and made royal by your 
 vote. Then I shall tell this glorious wonder to the 
 world: that I had my husband at my people's 
 gift!" 
 
 Lives hung in their answer, but the comedy was 
 safely played. As Mcephorus had prophesied, the 
 last word must be spoken by Constantinople, and 
 it was the word that the old dramatist meant 
 should be spoken. 
 
 Care and subtlety went to his own attack and he 
 had very truly paved for Eudocia's feet; but she 
 and Romanus also played their parts to perfect 
 purpose, and the three of them now won their 
 hazard with triumph. 
 
 Mcephorus had palmed Diogenes upon both 
 Factions, and with one consent they volleyed his 
 name till the great cliffs of the cathedral front 
 throbbed and echoed with it. 
 
 "A soldier for Emperor !" was the cry ; "Romanus 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 297 
 
 Diogenes!" "Romanus Diogenes for Emperor!" 
 "Eudocia and Romanus!" 
 
 Then, after this terrific explosion of a united 
 will, whereto the soldiers had added their desire, 
 there fell a wonderful silence. 
 
 Xiphilin and his brother stood frozen. But the 
 Patriarch now saw all, and while Bardas streamed 
 sweat and gaped with a fallen jaw, Xiphilin, look- 
 ing forward, directed his people to retreat into the 
 cathedral. His mind ran on sanctuary, yet he knew 
 that not St. Sophia's nor any corner of the 
 Kingdom could offer safety now. 
 
 Then Eudocia spoke with a resigned dignity. 
 
 "Ye will and I obey. So must it be. Amen !" 
 
 She bent her head to the people, who preserved a 
 moment's silence before the climax of their achieve- 
 ment ; and then she summoned Romanus, who stood 
 apart among his leaders. 
 
 'What say est thou, Cappadocian?" she asked. 
 
 "This I say," he answered: "Before the Face of 
 Almighty God, I will dedicate my being to your- 
 self, your son, and the dynasty." 
 
 He stood with his eyes upon the Empress, then 
 turned to her women and spoke again. 
 
 "Michael, son of Constantine, come to me!" 
 
298 EUDOCIA 
 
 The small, white-clad figure of Michael stole out 
 nervously and Romanus took his hand. 
 
 "Your father was my King," he said, "and your 
 future crown shall be sacred while I live to fight 
 for it." 
 
 The Patriarch, his brother, and the churchmen 
 had already retreated into the cathedral, and un- 
 observed the great doors were closed within the 
 second narthex. But they yielded swiftly enough 
 to attack, and then a tumultuous company swept 
 into the building — the soldiers and Factions min- 
 gling. Many of the Varangians and their centurions 
 surrounded Eudocia and Romanus, to lift them 
 together upon a platform of their shields. Thus 
 they were borne into St. Sophia's. 
 
 A sudden peal of bells broke out overhead, while 
 a great organ and instruments of brass rumbled 
 and blared together within. 
 
 The church was quickly filled and thousands 
 remained outside. 
 
 Then, by a little western entrance secluded from 
 observation, hastened the Patriarch in a black 
 cassock, shorn of his robe and mitre ; and after him 
 followed the figure of Bardas. Two old monks 
 alone supported them; and rough fellows insulted 
 the Patriarch, while they stopped the Protostrator. 
 
THE CATHEDRAL 299 
 
 He screamed, but Xiphilin hastened forward, while 
 a gang of the "Greens" knocked off the hat of 
 Bardas and laughed, when, in terror of death, he 
 offered them his fine feathers to let him go. They 
 stripped him, and in his under garments he rushed 
 on and overtook his brother. 
 
 Time alone would reveal their temporal punish- 
 ment ; but for Xiphilin no mortal ingenuity might 
 plan a deeper anguish than the hour had brought 
 that saw him fallen. Bardas rubbed his bruises, 
 and his tears fell, while already in thought he 
 trembled for his eyes and his nose. 
 
 "It is a dream," he gasped. "We shall awaken, 
 for such things cannot be." 
 
 "We have awakened," answered the other, "and 
 only death heals such an awakening. Depart from 
 me, accursed shadow of a man, and see my face no 
 more. One thrust of your dagger had kept the 
 world stable; but now you have cast our race into 
 outer darkness for all time, so that the world will 
 ever scorn my name and spit on yours." 
 
 A great choir chanted in the cathedral and the 
 music rolled out over the heads of the crowds. 
 Through the open doors, where light of many 
 colours fell from above and shot the gloom, they 
 could see, dwarfed by distance, the uplifted altar 
 
300 EUDOCIA 
 
 and the throng before it. A thousand waxen 
 candles made golden haze of the incense smoke, 
 and a new Patriarch, attired in the robes fallen 
 from Xiphilin's shoulders, stood above the kneeling 
 pair with his hands uplifted over their heads. 
 
 Then on that royal comedy, at once so barbaric 
 and unreal, so gorgeous, so massive without, so 
 puny and transient within, the curtain fell. Time 
 was already spinning the thread and weaving the 
 pattern of solemnities to follow, and Fate, having 
 thrust a comic interlude upon Byzantine history, 
 instantly opened graver themes and composed a 
 spectacle more tremendous. That also was 
 succeeded in its turn by mightier pageants of 
 destruction and despair, before the drama of the 
 Eastern Empire darkened to its ending and the 
 generations of Christian Constantinople vanished 
 as a tale that is told. 
 

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