gone. He lost his head, was beaten terribly, fell back on Ostia, and
then the end came. Isaurians from within helped in Goths by night.
The Asinarian gate was opened, and Rome was in the hands of the
Goths.

And what was left? What of all the pomp and glory, the spoils of the
world, the millions of inhabitants?

Five or six senators, who had taken refuge in St. Peter's, and some
five hundred of the plebs; Pope Pelagius crouching at Totila's feet,
and crying for mercy; and Rusticiana, daughter of Symmachus,
Boethius' widow, with other noble women, in slaves' rags, knocking
without shame at door after door to beg a bit of bread. And that was
what was left of Rome.

Gentlemen, I make no comment. I know no more awful page in the
history of Europe. Through such facts as these God speaks. Let man
be silent; and look on in fear and trembling, knowing that it was
written of old time--The wages of sin are death.

The Goths wanted to kill Rusticiana. She had sent money to the Roman
generals; she had thrown down Dietrich's statues, in revenge for the
death of her father and her husband. Totila would not let them touch
her. Neither maid, wife, nor widow, says Procopius, was the worse
for any Goth.

Next day he called the heroes together. He is going to tell them the
old tale, he says--How in Vitigis' time at Ravenna, 7000 Greeks had
conquered and robbed of kingdom and liberty 200,000 rich and well-
armed Goths. And now that they were raw levies, few, naked,