batters down the walls, he is
ready to burn the town. He will turn the evil place into a
sheep-pasture. Belisarius flatters and cajoles him from his purpose, and
he marches away with all his captives, leaving not a living soul in Rome.

But Totila shews himself a general unable to cope with that great
tactician. He divides his forces, and allows Belisarius to start out of
Ostia and fortify himself in Rome. The Goths are furious at his
rashness: but it is too late, and the war begins again, up and down the
wretched land, till Belisarius is recalled by some fresh court intrigue
of his wicked wife, and another and even more terrible enemy appears on
the field, Narses the eunuch, avenging his wrong upon his fellow-men by
cunning and courage almost preternatural. He comes upon them with a
mighty host: but not of Romans alone. He has gathered the Teuton
tribes;--Herules, the descendants probably of Odoacer's confederates;
Gepids, who have a long blood-feud against the Goths; and most terrible
of all, Alboin with his five thousand more Burgundians, of whom you will
hear enough hereafter. We read even of multitudes of Huns, and even of
Persian deserters from the Chosroo. But Narses' policy is the old Roman
one--Teuton must destroy Teuton. And it succeeds.

In spite of some trouble with the Franks, who are holding Venetia, he
marches down victorious through the wasted land, and Totila marches to
meet him in the Apennines. The hero makes his last speech. He says,
'There will be no need to talk henceforth. This day will end the war.
They are not to fear these hired Huns, Herules, Lombards, fighting for
money. Let them hold together like desperate men.' So they fight it
out. The Goths depending entirely on the lance, the Romans on a due use
of every kind of weapon. The tremendous charge of the Gothic knights is
stopped by showers of Hun and Herule arrows, and they roll back again and
again in disorder on the foot: but in spite of the far superior numbers
of the Romans, it is not till nightfall that Narses orders a general
advance of his line. The Goths try one last charge; but appalled by the
numbers of the enemy, break up, and, falling back on the foot, throw them
into confusion, and all is lost.

The foot are cut down flying. The knights ride for their lives. Totila
and five horsemen are caught up by Asbad the Gepid chief. Asbad puts his
lance in rest, not knowing who was before him. 'Dog,' cries Totila's
p