Numbers of poor people were streaming away from
the open space by the Pope's palace, loud in angry talk, its purpose
intelligible enough to any one who caught a few words. Decius heard
maledictions upon the Holy Father, mingled with curses no less
hearty upon the Greeks who held Rome.
'It was not thus,' cried an old man, 'in the time of King Theodoric,
heretic though he might be. We had our bread and our hog's flesh,
prime quality both, and plenty for all.'
'Ay,' cried a woman, 'and our oil too. Since these Greek dogs came,
not a drop of oil has there been in my cruse. Heretics, forsooth!
What better is the Holy Father who lets Christians die of hunger
while he eats and drinks his fill?'
'Evil go with thee, O Vigilius! The pest seize thee, O Vigilius!
May'st thou perish eternally, O Vigilius!' shrilled and shouted all
manner of voices, while fists were shaken towards the pontifical
abode.
Decius hastened away. The sight of suffering was painful to him, and
the cries of the vulgar offended his ear; he felt indignant that
these people should not be fed, as Rome for so many ages had fed her
multitude, but above all, he dreaded uproar, confusion, violence.
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