Athalaric, Amalasuntha, Theodahad, last of the Amal blood,
had held the throne in brief succession and were gone; warriors
chosen at will by the Gothic host, mere kings of the battlefield,
had risen and perished; reduced to a wandering tribe, the nation
which alone of her invaders had given peace and hope to Italy, which
alone had reverenced and upheld the laws, polity, culture of Rome,
would soon, it was thought, be utterly destroyed, or vanish in
flight beyond the Alps. Yet war did not come to an end. In the plain
of the great river there was once more a chieftain whom the Goths
had raised upon their shields, a king, men said, glorious in youth
and strength, and able, even yet, to worst the Emperor's generals.
His fame increased. Ere long he was known to be moving southward, to
have crossed the Apennines, to have won a battle in Etruria. The
name of this young hero was Totila.
In these days the senators of Rome, heirs to a title whose ancient
power and dignity were half-forgotten, abode within the City, under
constraint disguised as honour, the conqueror's hostages.
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