When at last the old order of things had so completely collapsed that the phantom Emperor was no longer allowed to retain his phantom title, it must have been obvious to all thinking men that changes so far reaching had come over Italy as to make it almost another world. The invaders had mingled largely with the conquered nation, inter-marriages were frequent; and it must, in justice to the barbarians, be admitted that they rapidly assumed the manners, and, indeed, the thoughts, of civilisation. If we compare the Court of Theodoric to that of Honorius, or even to that of Valentinian III, the superiority of the Gothic ruler in statesmanship, and even in superficial attainments, is manifest. But wars and invasions desolated the unhappy country. Belisarius defeated the Goths and regained Sicily and the South of Italy for the Emperors of the East. Although the Byzantine dominion was not of long duration, traces of its existence may still be found in those regions by the curious. It must not be forgotten that the Goths introduced new blood into the country, and that every new invasion tended to modify, if not to alter, the national character of the Peninsula. But while Italy was suffering for ages from the invasions of the Lombards, the Saracens, and the Normans, it must not be forgotten that she was steadily increasing in wealth, until, in the Thirteenth Century, she became the great money market of the world, and retained that position until shortly after the discovery of America. Wealth produced its usual effect of giving men ample leisure, and leisure created the demand for intellectual and artistic gratifications. Sicily was the favourite abode of the Emperor Frederick II, and at his brilliant Court poets were encouraged and minstrels rewarded. The Troubadours of Provence offered to Italy in noble verse that chivalric spirit of gallantry and love so congenial to the taste of the age. What the Italians so much admired, they naturally desired to emulate. But in order to do so they required a language capable of expressing thoughts with accuracy and adorning them with splendour. It is no exaggeration to say that from the decadence of the Latin language arose, not one tongue, but many dialects. These dialects were fostered by the division of the Peninsula into many principalities, townships, republics, and kingdoms. It was, therefore, incumbent upon the Italians to combine from existing materials a literary language. By a fortunate coincidence, the most gifted writers arose in Tuscany, where the most promising of these dialects was spoken. Thus it happened that the Tuscan idiom became the standard for literary composition. It was felt, even by the least discerning, that the Latin language, no longer the living property of the nation, was not suited to express the inspirations of contemporary poets, however advantageously it might be retained for legal, theological, and historical works.