"All is over!" he then said, in a faint voice. "O Manilia! Julius, I loved thee! And he died with _his_ name upon his lips! All is over!" he cried again, but this time in a voice of anger; "the last bond which united me to human love I have myself cut, deceived by mocking accident! It was my last weakness! And now all tender feeling, be dead to me! Lift him on to the horse.--This, my Pluto, shall be your last service.--Take him--up there I see a chapel--take him there, and let him be buried with all ceremony by the priests. Merely say that he died as a monk--that he died for his friend. He deserves a Christian burial. But I," he added, with a terrible expression on his face, "I will once more seek his friend; I will unite them without delay--and for ever." And he mounted his horse. "Whither?" asked Syphax. "Back to Taginæ?" "No! down into that wood. He must be hidden there, for thence came Julius." During these occurrences the King had recovered, and now rode with Adalgoth, Aligern, and a few riders, straight out of the wood, on the outer edge of which the road ascended to the chapel hill. As they issued from the trees they could distinctly perceive the walls of the building. But they themselves had been seen, for they heard a yell to their right, and over the open level a numerous troop of horsemen came galloping towards them from the river. The King recognised the leader, and before his companions could prevent him, he spurred his horse, couched his spear, and rushed to meet his enemy. Like two thunderbolts from the lowering heavens, the two horsemen crashed together. "Insolent barbarian!" "Miserable traitor!" And both fell from their horses. They had met with such fury, that neither of them had thought of defending himself, but only of overthrowing his adversary. Furius Ahalla had fallen dead, for the King had pierced him to the heart through gilded shield and breastplate with such force, that the shaft of the spear had broken in the wound. But the King also sank dying into Adalgoth's arms. Ahalla's lance had entered his breast just below his throat. Adalgoth tore Valerians blue banner out of his belt and tried to stanch the streaming blood--in vain; the bright blue was at once dyed deep red. "Gothia!" breathed Totila, "Italia! Valeria!" At this moment, before the unequal fight could commence, Alboin arrived upon the spot with his Longobardians. He had followed the Prefect, not being inclined to remain idle while the fight was going on round the walls of Taginæ. The Longobardian looked silently and with emotion at the corpse of the King. "He gave me my life--I could not save his," he said gravely. One of his horsemen pointed to the rich armour worn by the dead man. "No," said Alboin, "this royal hero must be buried with all his royal trappings." "There, Alboin, on the rocky height above us," said Adalgoth, "his bride and his tomb, self-chosen, have waited for him long."