were living;
of the "Romans" half only were alive, and all had lost their bristles.
Ridiculous as the manner of divination was, it furnished no inapt type
of the miseries which the Gothic war was to bring upon all concerned in
it, and not least upon that Latin population which was still so keen to
open its gates to Belisarius.

But, as I have said, when Neapolis had fallen, the brave Gothic warriors
felt that they had submitted too long to the rule of a dastard like
Theodahad. They met in arms, a nation-parliament, on the plain of
Regeta, about forty-three miles from Rome in the direction of Terracina.
Here there was plenty of grass for the pasture of their horses, and
here, while the steeds grazed, the dismounted riders could deliberate as
to the fortunes of the state. There was found to be an unanimous
determination that Iheodahad should be dethroned, and, instead of him,
they raised on the shield, Witigis, a man somewhat past middle age, not
of noble birth, who had distinguished himself by his deeds of valour
thirty years before in the war of Sirmium. As soon as Theodahad heard
the tidings of his deposition, he sought to escape with all speed to
Ravenna. The new king ordered a Goth named Optaris to pursue him and
bring him back alive or dead. Optaris had his own wrongs to avenge, for
he had lost a rich and beautiful bride through Theodahad's purchased
interference on behalf of another suitor. He followed him day and night,
came up with him while still on the road, "made him lie down on the
pavement, and cut his throat as a priest cuts the throat of a
victim".[145] So did Theodahad perish, one of the meanest insects that
ever crawled across the page of history.

[Footnote 145: There was perhaps an interval of some months during which
Theodahad was in hiding. His deposition is fixed by one authority
(Anastasius) to August, and his death, by another (Agnellus), to
December, 536, but all our chronological details as to this part of the
history are vague and uncertain.]

Witigis, the new king of the Goths, had personal courage and some
experience of battles, but he was no statesman and, as the event proved,
no general. By his advice, the Goths committed the astounding blunder of
abandoning Rome and concentrating their forces for defence in the north
of Italy. It is true that a garrison of four thousand Goths was left in
the city under the command of the brave veteran Leudaris, but,
unsupported by any army in the field