Yea. But for thee I should be man, not King.... And knowest thou what manner of man standeth here before thee?... Behold! These arms have been hitherto plunged in reeking blood, not the blood of men shed in manly strife, I speak not of that, that honoureth the man--blood of unarmed pale children, of--(_shudders_)--Thou shalt have great joy, if I come with these arms to wind them about thy neck.... Dost thou indeed hear me? Have I not a beautiful voice, a sweet voice? Only it is a little hoarse. It is weary with screaming loud commands to murder.... Peculiar pleasure shall be thine when thou hearest tender words with this bewitching hoarseness. Am I not truly a born lover? These wise men knew that; therefore they taught me my calling.... Or believe ye, it was your duty to beguile your King in the weariness of camp life; as the great Justinian dallied in golden Byzantium, and sent forth his eunuchs to slay Gothic men? Ha, ha, ha! Bishop. My King, take heed lest thou be angry. Teja. I thank thee, friend. Yet that signifieth nothing. It is but my marriage humour.... But now I will speak to ye in earnest--(_Ascends to the high seat of the throne_.) On the golden throne of Theoderic, where mercy sat in judgment, can I, alas! not take my place; for that is being chopped into firewood at Byzantium.... Neither smiling like Totilas can I pardon, for no one longer desireth our pardon.... From the glorious nation of the Goths, there hath sprung a horde of hungry wolves therefore it needeth a wolf as master. Thou, Bishop, didst call me the spirit of divine wrath, which I am not.... I am but the spirit of your despair. As one who all his life hath hoped for nothing, hath wished for nothing, I stand before you, and so I shall fall before you. That ye knew, and therefore ye are wrong, ye men, to reproach me secretly. Contradict me not!... I read it clearly enough between your lowering brows.... Because it goeth ill with us, make not a scapegoat of me--that I counsel ye. Theodemir. King, wound us not.... The last drop of our blood belongeth to thee. Cast us not into the pot with these old men. Euric. We old men fight as well as they; and love, young man, as well as they. Teja. Then let that suffice. Your Queen shall soon enough learn how, in misfortune, friends quarrel among themselves. And as ye pass through the camp, tell the warriors, the only thing that frets the King this day this day of joy, is it not?--is that he hath not the power to offer them a worthy marriage feast ... or yet perchance-- Ildibad. Ildibad. (_Who on the right has secretly spoken in bewilderment to a watcher who has just entered_.) Yea, Sire. Teja. What have we still in our stores, old man? Ildibad (_controlling his emotion_).