In order to favour this return, the King promised not only a general amnesty, but equal rights with the Goths; the abolition of all former Gothic privileges; the right of forming a native army; and--what was especially effective by contrast--the abolition of all taxes upon Italian soil or property until the end of the war. Further, as the aristocracy favoured the Byzantines--the farmers, on the contrary, the Goths--it was a measure of the highest prudence which provided that every Roman noble who did not, within three months, subject himself to the Goths, should lose his landed property in favour of his former tenants. And, lastly, the King placed a high premium, to be paid out of the royal purse, on all intermarriages between Goths and Italians, promising the settlement of the pair upon the confiscated property of Roman senators. "Italia," concluded the manifesto, "bleeding from the wounds inflicted by the tyranny of Byzantium, shall recover and bloom again under my protection. Help us, sons of Italia, to drive from this sacred ground our common enemies, the Huns and Scythians of Justinianus. Then, in the new-born kingdom of the Italians and Goths, a new people shall arise--begotten of Italian beauty and cultivation, of Gothic strength and truth--whose nobility and splendour shall be such as the world has. never yet beheld!" When Cethegus the Prefect, awaking at morn on the field-bed to which his wound had confined him, heard the news of Totila's accession, he sprang from his couch with a curse. "Sir," said the Grecian physician, "you must take care of yourself and----" "Did you not hear? Totila wears the Gothic crown! It is no time now to be prudent.--My helm, Syphax." And he snatched the manifesto from the hand of Lucius Licinius, who had brought the news, and read eagerly. "Is it not ridiculous--madness?" asked Lucius. "Madness it is if the Romans be yet Romans! But are they so? If they are not--then we--and not the barbarian prince--work madness. The thing must never be put to a trial, but be at once nipped in the bud. The blow directed against the aristocracy is a masterpiece. It must not have time to take effect. Where is Demetrius?" "He marched against Totila last evening. You were asleep. The physician forbade us to awaken you, and Demetrius also." "Totila king, and you let me sleep! Do you not know that this flaxen-head is the very genius of the Goths? Demetrius wishes to win his laurels alone. How strong is he?" "More than twice as strong as the Goths; twelve thousand to five thousand." "Demetrius is lost. Up--to horse! Arm all who can carry a lance. Leave only the wounded to guard the walls. This firebrand Totila must be trampled out, or an ocean of blood cannot extinguish him. My weapons--to horse!" "I have never seen the Prefect look so," said Lucius Licinius to the physician. "It must be fever? He grew pale." "He is without fever."