The rain, which began to fall shortly before daybreak, came to their assistance. The wind, thunder and lightning had ceased; but when the sun broke through the clouds it only illumined, instead of the granaries, a miserable heap of rubbish and ashes in the middle of the marble Circus. The King leaned against one of the pillars of the Basilica, sadly and silently looking at the ruins. For a long time he stood motionless, only sometimes he drew his mantle more closely over his heaving chest. A painful resolution was ripening in his soul, which seemed to have become as still as the grave. But round about him the place was full of the misery of the poor people of Ravenna, who prayed, scolded, wept and cursed. "Oh! what will now become of us?"--"Oh, how sweet and good and white was the bread which we received but yesterday!"--"What shall we eat now?"--"Bah, the King must help us."--"Yes, the King must give us bread."--"The King? Ah, the poor man! where will he get it?"--"He has no more."--"That's another thing!"--"He alone has brought us to this pass!"--"It is his fault!"--"Why did he not surrender the city to the Emperor long ago?"--"Yes, to its rightful master!"--"Curses on the barbarians! It is all their fault!"--"No, no, it is only the King's fault!"--"Do you not understand? It is a punishment from God!"--"Punishment? Why? What wrong has he done? Has he not given bread to the people?"--"Then you do not know? How can a bigamist deserve the grace of God? The wicked man has two wives. He lusted for the beauty of Mataswintha, and did not rest until she became his. He put away his lawful wife." Witichis indignantly descended the steps. He was disgusted with the people. But they recognised him. "There is the King! How gloomy he looks!" they called to each other, avoiding him. "Oh, I don't fear him! I fear hunger more than his anger. Give us bread. King Witichis! Do you hear? We are starving!" cried a ragged old man, catching at the King's mantle. "Bread, King!" "Good King, bread!" "We are in despair!" "Help us!" And the crowd gathered round him with wild gestures. Quietly but decisively the King freed himself. "Have patience," he said gravely; "before the sun sets you shall have bread." And he hurried to his room. There a Roman physician and some of Mataswintha's attendants awaited him. "Sire," said the physician, "the Queen, your wife, is very sick. The terrors of last night have disturbed her mind. She speaks as if in delirium. Will you not see her?" "Not now. Have a care of her." "With an air of great distress and anxiety she gave me this key," added the physician. "It appeared to be the principal subject of her wandering speeches. She took it from under her pillow, and she made me swear to give it into your own hands, as it was of great importance." With a bitter smile the King took the key and threw it on one side. "It is no longer of importance. Go; leave me: and send my secretary."