George Pachymeres

^A ζ) Construction from the contrary of the narrative concerning the rose. Assertio: That the narrative is plausible. P. For my part, I choose to love. η) Commonplace against a slanderer. Locus communis contra Maledicum. P. Men, judges, a man of few and learned words. θ) Encomium of Ajax, son of Telamon. Laudatio Ajacis Telamonii. P. If he had for his whole life. ι) Vituperation of Paris Alexander. Vituperatio Paridis Alexandri. P. Does anyone know also of profit from vice? ια) Comparison of the olive and the vine. Comparatio olivæ, et vitis. P. And the plants to resemble one another. ιβ) Characterization. What words a miser says when forced to entertain those who had previously invited him. Ethopœia. Quæ dixerit avarus, cum cogeretur eos in convivium vocare, qui eumdem prius convivio exceperant. P. Alas! how brilliant a host am I, and regarding the dinners. ιγ) Ekphrasis of the Augusteon. Descriptio Augusteonis. (o) P. The sanctuary of God, Hagia Sophia, with many and all manner of [perfections]. ιδ) Thesis: whether one should set sail. Propositum, an navigandum. P. Noble indeed are the gifts of the cities to their colonists. ιε) Accusation of the law ordering that those arriving from a shipwreck be despoiled by those there. Accusatio legis præcipientis, naufragium passos, et appellentes in aliquem locum, ab iis, qui inibi sunt, spoliandos esse. P. But I embrace the law that establishes the state. ις) To the contrary, concerning such a law and such a composition. Oppositum de eadem lege, et compositione. ^B ιζ) A thunderbolt having fallen, a thousand sets of armor are found in the house of Pericles, and he is judged for an attempt at tyranny. We declaim for the defendant, who speaks both as a general and as an orator, and who insists. The status is conjectural. Ictu fulminis in Periclis domo mille armaturæ adinventa sunt, et in judicium vocatur de tentata tyrannide. Declamat reus, qui ut exercituum dux sermonem concipit, et ut orator contentionem init. Status est conjecturalis. P. Nothing, as it seems, is more burdensome than a slandering man. ιη) A philosopher persuaded a tyrant to lay down his tyranny, and he asks for the reward of tyrannicides. It is countered by some. And we declaim for the philosopher. Philosophus suasit tyranno tyrannidem deponere. Et præmium postulat tyrannicidarum: denegatur illi ab aliquibus. Declamat philosophus. ιθ) A painter having painted shipwrecks and set them up in the ports is judged for public crimes because sailors did not put in. Pictor naufragii a se depictas tabulas in portibus appinxerat; cum nautæ non appellerent, publicorum criminum reus fit. P. Ought a painter some day to have come here accused of public crimes? κ) A general having burned his ships, thinking them to be of no use, and having conquered through these things, is judged for public crimes. We declaim for the defendant. Dux exercitus concrematis navibus tum inutilibus, et hostibus postmodum debellatis, publicorum criminum reus fit. Declamat reus. P. I, for my part, men, expected even to receive a reward for the things done. κα) In three days a law ordered that one should deliberate about war. Philip having seized Elateia, Demosthenes advised that they go out that very day and fight. Status is negotiational. Tribus diebus ex præcepto legis de bello faciendo consulendum erat. Cum Philippus Elatiam occupasset, Demosthenes hortatur eodem die urbe exire, et pugnam experiri. Status negotialis. P. Concerning many things, O men of Athens, I consider it incumbent upon you to struggle against Philip. κβ) One who had distinguished himself in battle asked for the head of a citizen as his reward. The city granted it. He is found to have slain him beforehand, and is judged for homicide. We declaim for the accuser. Cum in bello quispiam optime se gessisset, præmium sibi dari postulavit, civis caput. Urbs concessit. Cum ante impetratum præmium occidisset, de homicidio postulatur. Declamet accusator. P. For the valor, O young man, I have much to say, and you must blame the whole thing. κγ) It being wartime and a siege, a stranger went up upon the wall and performed a feat of valor, while the law ordered that no stranger should go up in such a time; and he is brought under the law. Premente bello atque obsidione, advena quidam ascenso muro prima præmia meretur. Verumtamen cum lex prohiberet, ne quis advena tempore belli murum ascenderet, de violatione legis postulatur. P. I, for my part, O men, even before arriving at a defense. κδ) A law says that the disinherited shall not share in the ancestral estate, and another says that he who persists on a ship in a storm is the master of the ship. A disinherited man persisted on his father's ship in a storm and is kept from it as being ancestral. We declaim for the disinherited. Lex est, abdicatus in paternis partem non habeat. Et alia, qui in navi tempestate jactata perstiterit, dominus navis est. Abdicatus in paterna navi procellis obruta perse- ^{C D}

^Avered; he is, however, driven from its possession because it is paternal property. Let the disinherited man declaim. [P.] If I, being the younger, wish to do the same as the others.

κε) The law states that he who is born of a harlot shall not speak from the rostrum. Someone born of a harlot is forbidden to speak. We are practicing upon him who is born of a harlot. [P.] If I am forbidden to speak in the assembly by this wonderful and persuasive orator.

κς) If a harlot wears gold, let her be public property. A certain harlot has been detected wearing gold, and someone says that according to the laws she is public property. But this person here, whom we are practicing upon, says that she herself is not public property, but the gold is, reading it with the acute accent on the antepenult [meaning "public things"]. [P.] It was not for pay, nor for the sake of gifts, that I undertook this accusation on behalf of one who has hitherto been deemed disgraced.

κζ) The remaining three states after the opposition of the counter-pleas are the counter-charge, the shifting of the charge, and the plea for pardon. And the first question is the counter-charge: a man of merit killed his son who was fornicating, and is prosecuted for murder. We are practicing upon the man of merit. [P.] Many and great are the proofs of my merit.

κη) Three hundred of the enemy fled at night, and having reached the gates of the city, they entreated the general to open the city gates that they might enter and be saved. Since there was a law that the gates should not be opened at night, the general did not open them. Their pursuers overtook them and killed them. The general is brought to trial for public crimes. We are practicing upon the accuser. [P.] Let no one, O those present, think that I am acting out of jealousy towards the general’s glory.

^B A general was captured by the enemies and tortured for a long time to tell the secrets of the city; having been forced, he spoke and was released from both the tortures and the captivity. Upon returning to his own people, he is brought to trial for public crimes. We are practicing upon the general. [P.] I should have died at the hands of the enemy under those tortures, men, before being forced to give an account of wrongdoing before you.

And then a comet star shone forth from the evening, concerning which I also made mention in the poems regarding my own life, writing thus:

1. Now the autumnal equinox was advancing, 2. And the sun held the desirable face of the Virgin, 3. And then a brilliant comet shone from Thrace, 4. Having an extended mane and leaning towards the east, 5. It flourished in the evening during so much of the night 6. Always rising higher now than it had before 7. As much as it was said to differ in its upward changes. 8. For it did not cut a path among the stationaries, 9. But came on every night with higher tracks, 10. Until it walked above the feet, ascending higher, 11. Where the tips of the hair first take root, 12. Slowly fading, become stunted, and then ceased.

^C And chapter 15: even if we, in composing poetry according to them, have followed their explanation. And below, and we have written thus in our own works:

1. The first foundation of the month stood in the month of Lenaion, 2. It was the time of the half-moon, and already its beautiful face was waning, 3. And then at the third hour of the night, almost from the evening, 4. It shone beside the chariot, and suddenly it became dark.

^A It is permitted for us in these matters, which we have explained in verse about ourselves, to go into their exposition. And below. And we have written in this way in our own works. I have not translated the poems; for it did not seem worth the effort. But so that you may pass a more secure judgment on such poems of Pachymeres, here are another twelve verses which he prefixed to his epitome of philosophy, as yet unpublished:

Accept the wool-bearing style of my labor, O Eumores, most glorious among all my servants and cities. Except that I brought threads of fine texture from Stageira, I wished to weave them in skilfully and naturally, So that not even a little of the fine weaving should be left out, Nor should the futile threads of ugliness be entirely lost. Yet, nevertheless, it did not escape our mind, How I might cover up the work with a labor superior to that. Within the faith of sacred forms brought to completion, By this first and quite unskilled page of transcription. Therefore, as much as has happened to the completion, let the gift be from above. And as much as has fallen away, let the fault be mine.

I am essentially iron, if anything in all antiquity is harder than these verses. Steel itself, and the anvil, and if there is anything in the nature of things rough and perverse, is softer and more tractable than these verses. It is well done that we have lost them, for in reading them we would learn nothing but iron; I now admit that the Muses of the later Greeks had no graces, no charms, and often spoke of everything except what pertains to human speech. Philippus Bechius translated these last verses as follows:

Eumores, and among those related and sacred ministers, My greatest care, reap the harvest of our labors Take the web, not lacking in utility, Rightly woven, though not containing all the threads of Stageira; I wished, however, to weave with my own wit According to my reason, lest from such clear warp Perhaps something be omitted, and the fragile threads perish Of an unlike web. Nevertheless, so that the meaning for us Stands firm, nothing at all shall be left behind, nor shall it perish. Certainly, that they might prepare a distinguished work for your studies, Completed through the pious fasts of sacred light, Which, inscribed on this fragile tablet, first Transcribe, and then deign also to note my errors. As far as it is perfect, may heavenly gifts be given to you; As far as it is the judge's, let that whole fault be imputed to me.

9. Of the same, on four mathematical sciences. In the library of the French king. Is it the same work as the one published by Psellus, or different?

10. Furthermore, there is preserved with me a small work of his in Greek, *On the preparation and construction of arguments*. It is all constructed by means of six [books/sections]. It is brief indeed, but full of pith.

11. Also the same, *Against those who say that for this reason the Spirit is called the Spirit of the Son, because it is of the same substance with him, or because it is presented by him to those who are worthy*. Read that, translated by me into Greek and Latin in my treatise on the perpetual consensus of both the Western and Eastern churches.

Whether he judged correctly regarding the faith? Possevinus reports that he was not well-disposed toward the Roman Church, and therefore he must be read circumspectly, and this is gathered from the Latin chapters and the History of Gregoras added to his own. Petrus Hallois, in question 2 concerning the writings of Dionysius the Areopagite, calls him truly catholic; an appellation that is certainly false. For he could not have been a catholic who defended the schism [r] and even defended it in writing against the Roman Church, and barked at her often, as is clear from his History. Manuel Phile lamented the death of Pachymeres in poems not inelegantly:

* The rhythm of the verse requires another word. The meaning is: If there has been any mistake.

(p) As Labbé mentions it, p. 417, Bibl. nova mss.

(q) Lib. II, ch. 2, § 13, pp. 516-522, and in Allatius, *Græcia Orthodoxa*, vol. I, pp. 390-395.

(r) Allatius inveighs against Pachymeres on this account, as in *De consensu*, lib. II, ch. 15, § 15, p. 781, and lib. II, ch. 2, § 11, p. 509. He indeed favors the schismatics, by speech undermining the cause of those who believe rightly everywhere, although there is no occasion, nor is he obscure. Yet the same man is called a sincere and most accurate writer of the Byzantine affairs of his age by Stephanus de Altimura, or Michael le Quien, in his *Panoplia contra schisma Græcorum*, p. 369. Nic. Comnenus, p. 257 of his *Prænot. mystagog.*, cites George Pachymeres' response to the calumnies of George of Cyprus; and his suggestion concerning the office of a patriarchal deacon, p. 398.

[As a man wishing perhaps to paint another, and to show him to the neighborly spectator, secretly hidden within a sage, I would have had the words themselves as immediate advocates, as though they were breathing life and strength into the forms. But since you have died, O teacher, the very pages of your words seem dead. I fear lest I bring a confused clamor to a man who is a sophist and free from passions. Yet if, while living, you prevailed in your writings from a heart devoid of pride, as nature has its eager course, now that you dwell in the tomb and cover the stone of silence, and have found an exhausted abyss of books, how can you count my words as nothing, and this when they contribute little for the sake of grace? But, O cities, you mourn the laws in common. For the pious Demosthenes among you does not stir the flame of rhetoric, lest the throne of the judges be seen as dry land, providing a goad of thorny testimonies. Homer, how is it that you are tranquil for so long? One ought to be writing a second Iliad, and weeping for the ancient one that is faring so ill. For if he were not among the teachers, he who now is silent and sleeping in the tomb, what would he have done? Having loosened the deep cloud of the weaving, he would have sent forth the bright clarity of writing. Now even you are dead, O old man Plato; for there is no transmigration of souls, nor is there a Socrates. But the identity of tongue and the power of art were purely and breathingly organizing the text. Aristotle, do you still boast? Yet it is necessary for you to be hidden and to keep silence, having heard of your own disastrous books. For the technical teacher according to you acquired the best and a friendly end, being analytically published to the Fathers. Rome reborn, groan and weave laments. For the world of words has been hidden in the earth. But if you have awareness again in words, Pachymeres, come forth and write, and overcome those who have composed the teachings, by lecturing on new discoveries for them. But that I may speak the appropriate things in summary, let the whole assembly of the wise be cut down for me. For the ark of our books has been overturned into the ark of corruption. Guardian of the laws, if it is still within your power, guard the statutes and be the arbiter in trials.]

NOTITIA

^A Proclaim, define dogmas, dissolve the conflicts, bringing forth an impartial judgment. For the zeal of before did not die with you. Could it be that even while living you looked toward the end, and well dramatized this life? O white swan, befitting the time, this man, alas, out of so many labors, has stolen for himself the three-foot grave of his end. O tongue skilled and divine mouth of the Scriptures, and mind pure, where have you hidden yourself? Tell me. Seeing it, I say, this mortal life, as it is nothing but an image of shadow, and a drifting specter in the lifting of the Euripus, and a bubble, and ash and a pouring of smoke, or an astragalos played with by youths, or a die standing on an unstable base: I entered into the place of burial here, awaiting the sound of the final trumpet, by which, being raised, I shall reach the meeting of Him who judges creation with a just word. Writing the unostentatious here, the solemn trinkets of the race fall silent. For the base and trodden dust, even if it be shaken and run toward the ether, yet it will descend again as dust, when the spindle of life has run its course. And all books, and words, and schemes, and syllogisms, and propositions, and positions, fall into nothingness, as a dream only. For the end brings the life to a close in the indemonstrable prosperity. But do not you wonder more than the others at the chosen poverty, the moderate character, the harmonious music of his entire life, and the voice of the soul, if you wish, stranger, through which he led the terrible boldness of the passions, imitating the tones of a musical lyre. How well it might be for you, and for the current words, O initiate of the sage teachings. For he does not keep silent, but even here he shows the matter of virtue all the more. So that you almost live, and seem to be writing something, dwelling, establishing, in the final stoa and the much-pursued departure or the previous Athens-like academy. But I myself, having learned now, know most of all that the just man, if he manages to die, will be toward rest, as the Scripture says, and lives a pure and strange life, having passed into the light happily as if toward evening.

SECOND NOTITIA

^A He seems not to have prolonged his life much beyond A.D. 1310 (although Lambecius in vol. III, p. 237 (c), and in vol. VII, p. 71 (d), followed by Neselius, says that he died in the year 1340). For he is not mentioned in the History of Constantinople after that time, and he would have continued his history at least until the end of the reign of Andronikos, who died in 1332; nor would he have stopped in his twenty-sixth year, A.D. 1308, if he had lived so long beyond his own age, and not just his own, but also had extended his years close to the centennial of the reign of the younger Andronikos, who was in his eleventh year of rule. There exist his *Byzantine History* books XIII, concerning events that occurred over forty-nine years, from the time of the birth of Michael Palaiologos, A.D. 1258, of Andronikos Palaiologos (the elder) up to A.D. 1308, which was the forty-ninth year of the same Andronikos’s life and the twenty-sixth of his reign. ^B The work is bipartite; for the first six books cover the affairs of Michael Palaiologos before the empire and during the time he was emperor; the subsequent seven books report what happened during the twenty-six years of Andronikos’s reign. Jerome Wolfius ^C prefaced to his *Nicephorus Gregoras* (Basel, 1502, fol.; reprinted Paris, 1567, fol.; Frankfurt, 1568, fol.) portraits of Pachymeres and the emperors, Michael and Andronikos, as well as Theodore Laskaris the younger (whose affairs Pachymeres also touches upon in the first part of his history), expressed from a manuscript codex. The same man, at the end of the volume, exhibits in Latin—translated by himself from the same manuscript codex of the Augsburg library—the arguments of the chapters of Pachymeres’s History. Certain fragments which Wolfius had noted as missing in the Augsburg manuscript codex were published in Greek by Dionysius Petavius in the *Synopsis of book V*, at the end of his *Historical Breviary of Nicephorus, Patriarch* (Paris, 1616, 8vo). ^D Many more places of Pachymeres's History, then still unpublished, were produced in Greek by Allatius in his writings, especially in his notes to *Acropolita*, printed at Paris in 1651. Peter Possinus, S.J., was the first to bring the entire work to light from the Barberini library codices 163 and 164; he translated it into Latin and published it with his own version and three books of observations at Rome in 1666 and 1669, in folio, in two volumes. These occur more rarely than other Byzantine writers printed in Paris and are sold for more than a hundred Lübeck marks. The first volume contains the six books on Michael Palaiologos, the second the seven on Andronikos. Of the three books of Possinus's observations, the first exhibits a glossary of more obscure words, the second notes and emendations, and the third a chronology. To this, one must attach the chronological observations on Pachymeres's *Michael Palaiologos* by Mauritius David, a presbyter of Dijon, which are also very rarely found, and which I have seen lauded in Boivin's notes to Gregoras, but have not yet come upon myself. [Rec. Venice in the *Corp. Byzant. Script.* vol. XIII and XIV, see above, p. 524]. The same Boivin notes on p. 760 that it would be worth the effort if one were to compare the Roman edition of Pachymeres with the royal manuscript codex 2548, written in A.D. 1448 (f), which Possinus did not see, just as he did not see the incomplete Augsburg codex, from which Jerome Wolfius brought forth the arguments of which I spoke above. I do not know if what Latinius the Latinist says in vol. II, epist. p. 102, should be understood of this Pachymeres: "Sirletus," he says, "stated that a certain George, a writer of various matters, had also recently been brought to light, who, while pronouncing judgment on philosophers of the first rank, also illuminated many obscure passages of Aristotle." Since he does not favor the Latins, he is called a rather unfair historian by Allatius in his book *On Consent*, p. 759, who nevertheless elsewhere (g) praises Pachymeres’s style; he notes furthermore that between the Lollian codex in the Vatican library and the Barberini codex, which he attests was transcribed more correctly and in an earlier, more elegant hand, there exists a great discrepancy not just in words and mode of expression, but also at times in the order of the narrated events, so that it is likely that Pachymeres wrote two editions of his History, tailoring them to his time and spirit, and therefore from both many errors are corrected, obscure things are illuminated, missing pieces are filled in, and finally the body of the history can be completed as one perfect and entire work. Since he [Possinus/Allatius] had commemorated the same manuscript codices of the same History—the mutilated Venetian one in the Library of St. Mark, the Escorial one, and from Possevino (who wrongly calls him Gregory instead of George), a third in the library of the island of Patmos, and a fourth of the most Christian King—he says, "I also have in my possession an integral copy of excellent quality (Fabr.)." In the Escorial codex (testified by Pluer in his *Journey through Spain*, p. 170), in [...] The index is said to have been written in A.D. 1443. Lambecius also, in *Comment.* vol. VIII, p. 1087, laments that Possinus lacked the *Codex Caesar* 67 (which Lambecius reviews copiously on p. 1066), in which are the letters of Gregory Cyprius, from which much that is necessary could have been drawn to illuminate the obscurity of the work of George Pachymeres, a difficult work. From the same codex he published on p. 1089 sqq., to supplement the History of George Pachymeres, book II, chapter 9, the formal formula by which the patriarchs promised to Gregory Cyprius’s adversaries that he would be publicly declared orthodox and entirely free from every stain and suspicion of heretical doctrine, if he would first promise in writing that, after receiving that public testimony of his innocence, he would without delay resign from the patriarchal dignity. In codex 39, vol. VIII, p. 819, there is a philosophical fragment of George Pachymeres, *on matter and form*, ch. 2, at the beginning of which George is called "philosopher and deacon, cleric, recorder, and *protodikios* of the great catholic Church of Christ." (HARL.)

Venetian manuscript Marc. 404 (according to the catalogue of Greek manuscripts, p. 196, although the latter book is mutilated) contains the first twelve books of Pachymeres' *Roman History*. According to Montfaucon, the *Bibliotheca bibliothecarum manuscriptorum*, Rome in the Vatican Library, contains Georgius Pachymeres' *Chronicle*. (I, p. 10. A.) Paris, in the Coislin Library, manuscripts 138-143, which were once joined together and inscribed as CII, are thirteen books. In the first manuscript, there are the first three books up to the end of chapter 16; on the opposite page there is a Latin version, different from the one which Petrus Possinus prepared and edited; there are also some scholia in the margin which do not appear in the edited version. How the numbering of the books differs from the edition, Montfaucon teaches in the *Bibliotheca Coisliniana*, p. 209 sq. Matthias Berneggerus was going to edit Georgius Pachymeres' *History* with a Latin version and notes, and had completed the greater part of the work; but, moved by the vain clamor of Tarinus, who was also attempting a new edition, by the authority of Rigaltius, and finally by the vehemence of illness, he abandoned his plan: concerning which he wrote more to various friends in his letters, published by Heumannus in *Poecile*, vol. II, p. 219, sqq. Especially p. 240 sq. (HARL.)

Concerning the Wisdom of the Indians, which Possinus translated from the Greek into Latin and placed under Pachymeres' first volume, or rather, dedicated to Michael Palaeologus

The *Specimen of the Wisdom of the Indians*, or the dialogue between Absalon, king of the Indians, and a certain gymnosophist, who, through skillfully crafted fables, revealed to him the thoughts of his soul and instructed him in morals—which Possinus, inasmuch as he was singularly commended by Michael Palaeologus in the presence of Pachymeres, appended in Latin to the first volume of Pachymeres—was translated by the same (Possinus) from the Greek codex of Allatius, which Simeon Seth translated into Greek from the Arabic around the year 1100, for the favor of the emperor Alexius Comnenus; afterwards, Sebastian Gottfried Starck [i] published this same book in Berlin in 1697, in Greek, from the Holstein codex, which exists in Hamburg in the Bibliotheca Johannea, though it differs here and there from the Possinian version. The title in Arabic is *Calila and Dimna* [j], whose edition was long ago promised by Tho. Hyde in his preface to the book *On the Games of the Orientals*. In Greek it is *Stephanites and Ichnelates*, as if you were to say 'the crowned one' and 'the investigator.' It is a book pleasant and useful to read, and stuffed with gracefully and ingeniously devised fables, by which the malice, frauds, and stupidity of men, frequent in common life and in courts, are painted to the life. It is said to have been written more than two thousand years ago in the Indian language [k], and then, for the sake of Chosroes, King of the Persians (by his true name Nouschiruan, or [l] Nuschi-rauan, contemporary with the emperor Justinian), it was translated into Persian [m] by Peroze, or Perzoc, a physician (others call him Stephanus of Edessa). It was no less translated into Syriac [n], and also into Arabic [o], and again into Persian [p] from the Arabic, then from the Arabic into Turkish [q], and, as I said, into Greek, which interpretation is in the codex referred to under the second (r), concerning which see the Bibliotheca Vindobonensis.

It is ascribed to Secundus the philosopher, though other codices, such as the Augustan, Florentine, Bodleian, Leidan, Holstenian, and Allatian [Paris. n. 2231, in the public library], and others, refer it, as I have already said, to Simeon Seth. Rabbi Joel mentions the Hebrew version (t) in German and Italian; and I know not who had given Starckius the hope of it, a membrane elegantly described some centuries ago and conspicuous for many ornaments of images. I saw the Latin [version] from the Hebrew at the home of Jo. Philippus Palthenius, of the Academy of Greifswald, when he was alive, an ornament to his field and for many years joined to me in friendship, who was preparing an edition of it, and without doubt would have given it [to the public], had he not been excluded from this and other more important and brilliant efforts by death, or rather had he not been snatched away by the many and great calamities which have afflicted his country since that time. I saw a printed copy without the year in folio format, with this title: *Directorium humanæ vitæ*, translated by John of Capua. I also saw a double Italian (u) version, printed at different times, and differing wonderfully both from each other and from the Greek. The French version of Gilbert Gaulmin, composed from the Persian of Nasrallah Ben Muhammed in 1644 and [printed at] Paris in 1698 in 12mo, and reprinted in Belgium under the title *Les fables de Pilpay* (x), an Indian philosopher, likewise differs greatly from the Greek, although it contains many of the same fables and apologues, and from there in this city [it was brought by] Christian Ravius, among whose collection of the Orient, Cent. I, num. 20, is the Ethical and Political book titled *Clile et Dimne*, in Persian. Starckius, in his preface to the *Wisdom of the Indians*, testifies that the codex of Ravius exists in the Berlin library; he notes besides that a Persian manuscript occurs at Vienna in the Imperial library, n. 137, and at Breslau and Leiden, and that it was among the Golius books. Huetius also mentions another Persian interpretation in *De fabulis Romanensibus*, page 22. It is said that Caliph Abiafar Almanzor then ordered this book to be rendered from the Persian idiom into Arabic; that someone else subsequently translated it from Arabic into Persian again, and that these Persian interpretations are another work, different from the former, yet to which the French translation (Gaulmin, under the title of the fables of Pilpay) is exactly conformed. Herbelot, in his *Bibliothèque Orientale*, p. 118, [writes regarding] *Anuar Sohaili*, the lights of Canopus: "This is the title of a very famous book throughout the Orient, which Hassan ben Sohail, Vizir of the Caliph Almanion, translated from the Persian into Arabic; that is why he gave it his name: for *Sohail*, in Arabic, signifies the star of Canopus. This work is originally written in Indian, and first bore the name of the *Testament of Houschenk*, ancient king of Persia of the first dynasty, and that of *Glavidan Kird*, that is to say, the wisdom of all the centuries. It was first translated from the Indian language into the Pahlavi language, which is that of the ancient Persians, by Buzruvieh, physician of the King Chosroes, surnamed Nouschirvan, whom this prince had sent expressly to the Indies to recover this book. This translation bore the Persian name of *Humaioun Nameh*, the august book. Aboul Mauli put this translation into the modern Persian language: but his work was retouched and enriched by Haussain Kaschesi, and bore from then on the title of *Calilah u Damna*, as well as that [one] which was made in the Turkish language for the Sultan Soliman. For it is a dialogue between two animals, to whom these two proper names have been given. These animals are called by the name of their species, jackal, and we have nothing in these countries that approaches it more than the fox, either for its figure or for its instinct." The same, p. 245: "Kondemir says that the book *Calilah u Damna* was composed in favor of Baharam Schah, the penultimate sultan of the Gaznevide dynasty, a prince of very great merit, and who favored men of letters very much. The author of the *Lebtarikh* (compare Schickardi *Tarich*, p. 144 seq.) writes in the Life of this same prince that he loved letters and those who made them their profession extremely: that many beautiful works were dedicated to him, and among others that of *Kalilah et Damnah*, composed by Nusvallah, son of Abdelhamid, in the state that we see it today in the Persian language in prose, and that it was the poet Roudeki who put it into verse later. This is the same book which was translated into the Turkish language, and which bears the title of *Anvar Sohaili*, the lights of Sohail, or of the star which bears the name of Canopus."

^C also at Hamburg in 1707, in 12mo, put to press with the Fables of Aesop. In these later editions, in the judgment of a most learned man, while they wished to provide more elegant French, they took away not a little from the excellence of the old: *on a gâté l'ancienne version en la mettant en meilleur françois* [one has spoiled the ancient version by putting it into better French]. Moreover, long ago Antoine Galland gave hope of seeing a much fuller French edition, if indeed he had obtained the Turkish version, which was more than four times as large as the published Fables of Pilpay, and thus a complete version of the same book made from the Persian, which bears the title *Humaioun Nameh*, that is, the imperial or royal book, because the Orientals are persuaded that the art of governing is contained in that book. A Castilian or Spanish version is mentioned in the preface to the Italian version; but the German, which is said to have been composed from the Latin of John of Capua under the auspices of Eberhard I, Duke of Württemberg, saw the light more frequently, and Starekio mentions the editions of Ulm, 1483, folio (y). *Beyspiel der alten Weisen von Geschlecht zu Geschlecht*, [Example of the ancient sages from generation to generation] et Argent. 1525, folio, *das Buch Weisheit, darin erlernet wird der Welt Lauff*, [the Book of Wisdom, in which is learned the course of the world] and without place notation 1548, 4to, *der alten Weisen Exempel, Sprüche und Unterweisungen*: [Examples, proverbs and instructions of the ancient sages] and Frankfurt 1565, 8vo, *das Buch der Weisheit der alten Weisen von Anbeginn der Welt von Geschlecht zu Geschlecht*. [The Book of Wisdom of the ancient sages from the beginning of the world from generation to generation.] Finally, the Belgic [edition] of Zacharias Heins, Zwolle, 1623, 8vo, *woorbelsels de oude wysen uyt d'lüdische spraacke in d'Arabische*, etc. [Regarding this entire passage, cf. the preface to the booklet inscribed *Stephánités kai Ichnélátés* [The Crowned One and the Tracker], edited and translated into Latin from a manuscript in the library of the Academy of Uppsala, in an academic dissertation which Petr. Fabian Aurivillius submitted for public examination under the presidency of Jo. Floderus, Prof., etc. - Upsalla, 1780, 4to. Beck.]

^D Other published writings of Pachymeres. Beyond the *Byzantine History*, of which I have spoken, and for whose Possinian edition one may also consult Jo. Gallæsius in the *Ephemerides eruditorum*, Paris, Dec. 6, 1666 and March 2, 1671, there exist other works likewise brought to print, by the same author, Georgius Pachymeres: 1. A paraphrase of the works of Dionysius the Areopagite to the Patriarch Athanasius of Alexandria, in which he has followed Maximus almost always, so that one would not consider Pachymeres to be more the faithful follower of Dionysius than of Maximus.

^A Combefisius calls him a paraphrast in vol. I of his *Auctarium novissimum*, p. 496. And when he praises the ancients, he especially means Maximus, who is called "one of the ancients" by Pachymeres, vol. II, in the edition of Dionysius by Corderius, p. 64. It was first published in Greek at Paris by Guillaume Morel in 1561, 8vo, under this title: *Of the most learned and wisest hieromnemon of the Most Holy Great Church of God, Georgios Pachymeres, Paraphrase on St. Dionysius the Areopagite, at the request of the most holy Pope and Patriarch of Alexandria, Kyrios Athanasios, who was visiting Constantinople*, to whom the preface is also addressed. Besides that edition (not printed collectively with the works of Dionysius, as Allatius writes from Simler, p. 367, concerning the Georges, but printed separately), this paraphrase also appeared in Greek, appended to the writings of St. Dionysius in the Greco-Latin edition of his works by Lansselius, Paris 1615, fol., except that Petrus Lansselius S.J. added his own translation to the paraphrase of Dionysius's epistles. Balthasar Corderius S.J. edited the whole work in Latin, and in Greek and Latin with the works of Dionysius and the scholia of Maximus, Antwerp 1634, fol. Possevinus also mentions a translation by the Carthusian Godfredus Tilmannus (z), and Allatius mentions another by Vincentius Marinerius, but they were not put into print. (FABR.) Compare above, in this volume, pages 9, 12, and 13, and regarding the codices, pages 14 and 15 (where the edition of Dionysius the Areopagite with the paraphrase of Georgios Pachymeres, Venice 1755, fol., vol. I, pp. 6-152 is also cited), and p. 17, see Jo. Fabricius, *Hist. bibl. Fabric.*, part i, pp. 112-116. Item, a fragment of Dionysius the Areopagite's *Celestial Hierarchy* with the paraphrase of Pachymeres exists in cod. Barocci in the Bodleian library, no. 65; the paraphrase, etc., exists in cod. Escorial, as witnessed by Pluer in his *Itinerary through Spain*, p. 170. The works of Dionysius the Areopagite with the paraphrase of Georgios Pachymeres exist in cod. Coislin 85, as witnessed by Montfaucon in *Bibl. Coisl.*, p. 140; add Bandini's catalog of Greek manuscripts in the Laurentian Library, vol. I, p. 289. (HARL.)

^B "...of the same essence, or because it is supplied to the worthy by him," against those who say that the Spirit is therefore called the Son's because He is of the same substance with Him, or because He is supplied to the worthy by Him, exists in Greek and Latin in vol. I of *Græcia orthodoxa*, together with the translation of the editor, Allatius, Rome 1652, 4to, pp. 390-399. Add the same author's *De Consensu utriusque Ecclesiæ*, p. 517, seq. (FABR.) Add below in vol. X, p. 384. (HARL.) Boivin to Gregoras, p. 764, vol. II, from the royal codex 3119. On the Augusteon, see Codinus, *Origines CPol.*, no. 32, Goar on Codinus, p. 150.

^C ...or rather 238, see Buhle in the edition of Aristotle's works, vol. I, p. 166, and Lambeck VII, p. 234, Bandini III, p. 285, note] comprised in certain libraries, where it is still preserved in its entirety in Greek; it was published (a), (b) *Epitome of the Logic of Aristotle*: "By the Deacon, Protecdikos, and Dikaiophylax of the Church, Georgios Pachymeres, an Epitome of Aristotelian Logic," in Latin, translated by Jo. Baptista Rasarius, Paris, at Vascosan's, 1547, 8vo, and in Greek ibid., 1548, 8vo, and in Greek and Latin, edited by Bernhard, Oxford 1666, 8vo. In this epitome, at the very beginning, one reads the work that Joachim Camerarius published in Greek at Leipzig, in 8vo, without a date (b), *On the Six Definitions and the Division of Philosophy*, along with Archytas's treatise *On the Ten Categories* and other works.

^D Pachymeres wrote that he was a contemporary of Athanasius. And indeed, he was not the same person as that ancient Athanasius, the hammer of the Arians in the fourth century; however, it is no less certain that in the age of Pachymeres there was a Patriarch of Alexandria named Athanasius, whom he mentions more than once in his *Byzantine History*, and to whom he inscribed his Dionysian paraphrase, composed at his own urging. (FABR.) In codex 996 of the Paris Public Library exists Georgios Pachymeres's letter to Athanasius, Patriarch of Alexandria, Libya, Pentapolis, and all of Egypt and Ethiopia. (HARL.)

(a) See Allatius above. (b) Jo. Camerarius, in his index of writers, not only gave this fuller inscription: "Archytas's Ten Predicaments: Anonymous on Logic: What and of what sort, how it seems one ought to define: Another's method *On the ways of philosophy*; Georgios Pachymeres *On the six definitions of philosophy*: all in Greek: with a preliminary Greek epistle of Joachim Camerarius to Michael Sophianus. Leipzig, at the press of Ernst Voegelin, 8vo," but he also asserts an edition in the year 1564; see the following note. Concerning very many codices, mention was already made supra in vol. III, in the chapter on Aristotle, p. 209, note oo: Georgios Pachymeres's *Exposition of the whole Organon of Aristotle* and *Epitome of all Aristotelian philosophy*; p. 210, Pachymeres's *Books XI on Philosophy* in cod. Bavar. 170 (of which some, e.g. *On the Heavens*, on *Aristotelian Ethics*, etc., are found separately in other codices): in cod. Bavar. 171 is Pachymeres's *Epitome on the Metaphysics of Aristotle* and other things, pp. 216, 220, 227, 229, 258, and more often. — In the Escorial Library there are in some codices Pachymeres's: 1) Epitome on all of Aristotle's Logic and both philosophies; 2) Logic and philosophy; 3) Paraphrase on the books of *Ethics to Nicomachus*; 4) *On Physics*, ch. 20; 5) On certain works of Aristotle, as witnessed by Pluer, l.c., p. 170. — At Florence in cod. Laur. Medic. II, plut. 86, Georgios Pachymeres's *Compendium of philosophy according to the mind of Aristotle*, consisting of 12 books, 47 titles, 258 chapters. See more in Bandini's *Cat. codd. Gr.* III, p. 285 sq. Add the following note. At Paris in the public library, codd. 1929, 1930, 1931, and 1935, exists Pachymeres's *Paraphrase on all of Aristotelian philosophy*; in cod. 2136, the opuscule *On the Soul*. At Vienna in cod. Caes. 67, nr. 1, Pachymeres's *some fragments on the Heavens*; in cod. 42 nr. 1, and cod. 44 nr. 2, and cod. 95 nr. 2, Pachymeres's *Prolegomena to Aristotle's eight books of Physics*, and nr. 18, cod. 44, excerpts from Georgios Pachymeres on the heavens, the sun, solar eclipse, days and nights, and the four seasons of the year; in cod. 43, Pachymeres's *Exposition on Aristotle's eight books of Physics*, see Lambeck, *Comm.* VII, pp. 237, 397, 173, 177, 178, 181, 182. At Turin in the Royal Library, cod. 365, Georgios Pachymeres's *Synopsis and compendious exposition of Aristotle's books on Physics*, not yet edited; in cod. 262, prolegomena to the eight books of Aristotle's physics, see *Cat. codd. Taur. Gr.* pp. 485 and 372. — At Venice in the Marciana library, cod. 203, an index of Pachymerian philosophy; in cod. 212, Aristotelian...

^A philosophy, which I reviewed above in lib. 2, cap. 13 (vol. 1, p. 834), in Archytas. In Latin, however, Oporinus [published it] at Basel in 8vo, with Porphyry's *Five Voices* and Aristotle's *Categories* translated by Joach. Perionius. And those which came forth in Greek and Latin with the version of Jacobus Foscaremus, *On the Definitions of Philosophy and the Five Voices and the Ten Categories* of Pachymeres, Venice, 1532, 8vo, with the addition of the manuals of Psellus and Nicephorus Blemmydes on Aristotelian Logic. ¸) *On Indivisible Lines*, a little book often published in both languages among the works of Aristotle and wrongly ascribed to Aristotle himself by many, before Camotius and H. Stephanus noted the error. Jacob Schegkius translated it into Latin. See, if you like, what I said in lib. 2, cap. 5, § 28 (vol. 3, p. 261). ¸) Finally, the Epitome of philosophy itself, in Latin, translated by Philippus Bechius, philosopher and physician, Basel, 1560, fol., with the orations of Synesius. The author dedicated this epitome to a certain Eumorus, as is evident from Pachymeres' verses to him (edited above, col. 419).

In the *Casauboniana*, p. 24, mention is made of Georgius Pachymeres' *Life of Chrysostom*, about which I do not recall reading anything anywhere. For the *Life* of Chrysostom which we possess, written by Georgius, is—as Casaubon could by no means have been ignorant—far older, and belongs to the Georgius, Bishop of Alexandria, already praised by Photius, about whom Hanckius writes at length in *De scriptoribus Byz.* part 1, cap. 10. But I shall transcribe the words of Casaubon: "Georgius Pachymeres' book on the *Life of Chrysostom* is excellent, both because of its subject matter and, in some measure, because of the writer himself: his style is pure (whereas Photius finds fault with the style of Georgius of Alexandria), and not devoid of all artifice, and [shows] care in diction: accusative constructions, such as we used to observe frequently in the historians."

*Unpublished writings of Pachymeres.* Besides the *Paraphrase on the Entire Philosophy of Aristotle*, about which I have already spoken, and the greater part of which still lies hidden in Greek in the libraries, and is preserved complete in the Vienna codex, [copies] are also kept in the Royal Library of France, cod. 3119. Pachymeres' *Exercises on the Progymnasmata and Status*. Allatius shows their individual titles and beginnings in *De Georgiis*, p. 369, 370, 371 (above, col. 413), among which is also the *Ecphrasis of the Augustae*, which I have already noted we possess through the kindness of Boivin. Regarding the *Letters*, which Gesner wrote were hiding in the libraries of Italy, the same Allatius testifies that he could never find them, though he sought them anxiously, and laments it: "For I suspect," he says, "that those would have been most elegant and full of ancient nectar of speech, beyond what the writers of that age were accustomed to; since there was less [skill] in others in composing..."

^B Nicomachean Ethics, 10 books, with the marginal paraphrase of Georgius Pachymeres not yet edited. See *Cat. codd. Gr.* p. 112 and 114, and above, vol. 3, p. 264. — In cod. Coislin. 164, Georgius Pachymeres' *Philosophy*, 12 books; see Montfaucon, *Bibl. Coisl.* p. 222.

...Regarding the codex at Vienna, the Emperor's codex 67, containing Georgius Pachymeres' *Epitome of all Aristotelian Philosophy*, divided into 12 books, 47 titles, and 238 chapters, V. Lambecius, *Comm.* VII, page 234 sqq., where among other things, he says: "which epitome was translated into Latin first by Phil. Bechius, philosopher, physician, and dialectic professor at the Basel Academy, from two other manuscripts, which, as he himself testifies, were very lacunose, faulty, and corrupt, and was published in Latin only in 1560 at Basel by the Froben press; but through the benefit of this third codex, the imperial manuscript, it will be possible for [the work] to be edited anew, much better and more accurately in both Greek and Latin." Sambucus himself indicates this in the same place with this inscription in his own hand: "Philippus Bechius, physician of Basel, translated this at Basel, and Episcopius printed it with Froben in the year 1560. But this codex is much more complete and sound than the two which the translator was able to use at the time. Bechius often neither grasped the words nor rendered the meanings." Sambucus bought this in 1583 with eight crowns, sent from Italy. In that codex, the preface is followed by an index of the whole work, which indeed Leo Allatius in his *Diatribe de Georgiis*, p. 367, falsely thought had been composed by someone else; whereas Lambecius contends that it was composed by Georgius Pachymeres himself, which is manifest from its connection with the preface. What Lambecius and Sambucus stated about the Vienna codex, [Bandinus] affirms also about the Florentine Medicis codex XXII, plut. 86, which contains Pachymeres' *Compendium of Philosophy* (as in cod. 2, praised in the previous note), *Bandin.* II, p. 365 sq., [maintaining that] with the help of that excellent and integral Medicis codex, a much better and more accurate edition could be prepared in both Greek and Latin. That codex, however, besides having the *dieresis* etc. from the beginning; the division of the dialectical topics, just as a certain Italian named Boethius divided them, which indeed were translated into the Greek language. Then, at the end, are added 100 sepulchral iambic verses by Manuel Philes on Pachymeres, in which he deplores the death of his teacher. In cod. 1, nr. 3, plut. 86, three excerpts from Georgius Pachymeres' *Paraphrase on the entire Aristotelian philosophy*. See Bandin. III, p. 281 sq. In the Caesarean codex 95, nr. 4, in the *Logical Syntagma* of Arsenius, Archbishop of Monembasia in the Peloponnese, are included various short works of Michael Psellus, Nicephorus Blemmydes, and Georgius Pachymeres pertaining to logic, and indeed Pachymeres' little book *On the Six Definitions of Philosophy*; the same author's *Division of Philosophy*, his little book *On the Five Voices*, and his little book *On the Ten Categories*. V. Lamb. VII, p. 380 sqq., who also noted that the same *Logical Syntagma* of Arsenius was edited in Greek at Paris, 1540, 12mo, and in Latin, translated by Jacob Foscaremus, ibid. 1541, 12mo. In cod. 39, nr. 6, is a fragment *on matter*, etc., as I have already noted above. In the Leiden Academy library are Hermias Ammonius on Porphyry's *Isagoge*, Magentinus on Aristotle's *On Interpretation* and *Prior Analytics*, and Nilus' little book *On Reasonings*. Also, Georgius Pachymeres' *Epitome of the Entire Aristotelian Art of Reasoning*, translated by Jo. Baptista Rasarius. Lyon 1547, fol. Psellus' *Introduction to the Six Modes of Philosophy*, etc.—Nicephorus Blemmydes *On the Five Voices*. Georgius Pachymeres *On the Six Definitions of Philosophy*, etc. Greek at Venice (as it seems), some things are inscribed in Greek: in *Cat. B. Leid.* p. 155, 163 and 165. Georgius Pachymeres' *Epitome of the Entire Aristotelian Art of Reasoning*, in Latin, translated by Jo. Baptista Rasarius. Paris, at Michael Vascosanus' 1545, 8vo. (Maittaire A. T. III, p. 379).

Pachymeres, as can be gathered from history and other treatises of his, may be playing the fool ^A (g). He reports, however, that he had found a short work of Pachymeres, *De apparatu et constructione argumentorum* (On the Apparatus and Construction of Arguments), the beginning of which is: Πᾶν κατασκευάζεται δ'. He also states that Pachymeres' short book *De quatuor mathematicis scientiis* (On the Four Mathematical Sciences) exists in manuscript in the royal library of France, but he doubts whether it is the same one that was published under the name of Psellus, and about which Allatius writes in his book on Psellus, ch. 37. Indeed, Arsenius himself, when he first published it in Rome, doubted whether it had Euthymius or Psellus as its author, although it is attributed to Psellus by many. Labbe, however, in his *Bibliotheca nova ms.*, page 147, mentions as distinct works Georgius Pachymeres' *On the Four Mathematical Sciences*—arithmetic, music, geometry, and astronomy (in which very order those disciplines are also treated in the Psellian book)—in royal codex 859, and those of Euthymius Psellus in codex 891. Concerning those of the same [author], [they are found in] the uncertain codex 581. (FABR.) According to the catalog of Paris codices, vol. II, in codices 2338, 2339, and 2340 are the institutions by Georgius Pachymeres or Michael Psellus on arithmetic, music, geometry, and astronomy; in codex 2511, Georgius Pachymeres' arithmetic (where the first chapter is missing), geometry, and stereometry. In codex 2458 (copied from a Vatican codex in 1594), no. 3, a description of Pachymeres' arithmetic begun four times by the hand of two different scribes; no. 4, a description of his harmonical studies begun. In codex 2536, a short work on Music, collected from the writings of the ancients and moderns by Georgius Pachymeres for the benefit of those who devote themselves to the musical art, an unpublished work, which begins: δευτέραν ἔχει τάξιν. In the Nanian codex 255 at Venice, *The Four-Book Work of Pachymeres*—then *Of the most wise Lord George the chief advocate*—*of Pachymeres, a system of the four mathematical sciences: arithmetic, music, geometry, and astronomy*. Thirty iambic trimeter verses follow: after these the work begins. The author of the Nanian codex catalog gave more [details] from that codex on page 448. At Leiden, among the Vossian codices, *Harmonical Music of Pachymeres*. See the catalog of the Leiden library, 394, no. 62. Whether those which are in the Augustan Vindelician codex (Reiser. cat. p. 87) also pertain to Pachymeres, namely an epitome of logic, mutilated at the beginning, with the remaining pages also largely eaten away; another epitome of arithmetic, etc., and another epitome of music, geometry, astronomy, etc., will be more certainly defined by collation with other codices. (HARL.)

Pachymeres mentions his ^B *Ta kath’ heauton* (Poems on his own life), and from them he brings forward certain hexameter verses in book X of his *Byzantine History*, chapters 14 and 15. (FABR.) In Florence, in the Laurentian Medicis codex V, plut. 87, which contains Aristotle’s *Physics*, books VIII, with a marginal exposition by Georgius Pachymeres; at the end are read certain heroic verses in praise of the book, with the name *tou Pachymerē* inscribed, which Bandini made public in his *Catalogus Græcus* III, p. 385 sq. In the Venetian Marcian codex, which contains Macarius Chrysocephales' *Podōn ōn* (?), fol. 231, there are cited excerpts from the poems which Georgius Pachymeres wrote about his own life, *From the heroic poems of the Lord George Pachymeres, through which he narrates his own affairs in nine parts*, and fol. 253 recto, *Of the same (Pachymeres) woven verses; the woven verse is, from above downward, and from below upward*. See the esteemed Villoison’s *Anecdota Graeca*, vol. II, page 7, especially page 76 sqq., where he published in Greek those verses, however barbarous and inept they may be. In the heroic verses praised, however, Pachymeres, according to Villoison, imitated the ancient poets, especially Homer and Gregory Nazianzen, not unsuccessfully. (HARL.)

(g) Add. supra, vol. I, p. 703. (HARL.)

GEORGIUS PACHYMERES ON MICHAEL AND ANDRONICUS PALAEOLOGUS: THIRTEEN BOOKS.

DEDICATION OF PETRUS POSSINUS.

TO THE HOLY MEMORY OF URBAN VIII, SUPREME PONTIFF, GEORGIUS PACHYMERES, REVIVED BY HIS BENEFIT, [OFFERS] IMMORTAL THANKS.

The holy Scriptures recall that a singular privilege was granted to the pontiffs of the old synagogue, that by their death they might manifest the return to the exiles. I experience happily today that the pontiffs of the new law and of the Church of Christ have more power, thanks to you, by whose grace I, who had long since died and was myself dead, have [received] light.

I had thought to extend my brief life into the perennial state of posthumous immortality, by writing while I lived the history of my own time, and of deeds not unworthy of being known that had been done under two princes, in whose service I too had borne some measure of name and honor, publishing them in a double volume from eyewitness knowledge. But I learned too late how uncertain are human expectation and foresight, realizing only after my death that these two works, labored over by me through long vigils but under ill-fated auspices, had found nothing at the citadel of Minerva, to which I had dedicated them, but a dungeon of Latona, where, bound in shadowy chains, they kept my fame buried with them in a kind of tomb of oblivion. Indeed, that Ottoman storm, which, upon the destruction of the Eastern Empire and the subjugation of Constantinople, submerged the wealth of learned Greece in a fatal shipwreck, also swallowed up most of the examples of my history in its barbarian floods, leaving behind only tattered remnants and wretched relics cast out as if upon certain shores and harbors of libraries. A heap of these was once seen at Augsburg by Wolfius, but he, like that evangelical Levite who encountered the traveler to Jericho wounded by the injury of robbers, being beside the place and seeing him, passed on. For what else was it, if not an abandoning of the duty of editing and translating, for him to be finished with the easy task of copying out lemmas and titles? The priest, the most learned Petavius, did somewhat more, for, descending by the path of searching out the monuments of the ancients, he chanced upon some fragments of my narratives, which, such as he found them, he published with Parisian presses. But he too kept his distance, rightly refusing the work of translating them, since they would certainly be wasted in such a corrupt exemplar as he had obtained. Truly (for it must be confessed) I was in a far worse state than the traveler wounded by brigands besetting the road to Jericho; for although the latter was mangled, he still breathed, whereas I had exhaled my soul, bereft of sense and spirit, little different from that man mentioned in the books of Kings, whom those who were about to bury him, hasteful on account of the fear of imminent brigands, threw into the sepulcher of Elisha—fortunate by chance for them: for by the touch of the prophet's bones the dead man revived. A like good fortune fell to me from you. Your mouth and your flesh, the most eminent Cardinal Francesco Barberini, taking me up—cried out for and abandoned and lifeless—lifting me, embracing me, at length brought it about that I should live, following your wishes and commands, that is: for you had received the complete copy of my work, brought thither from some corner of that Greece, and had urged and pressed that he should at length see it published. In this, he spared no exertion, contention, or expense. He sent, acted, and moved many things over a long time, until, by long-suffering and efficacious perseverance, the obstacles broken through and the goal desired, he stood forth as a true, beneficent, protective Samaritan to me who was abandoned and rejected. He raised me from the soil and dust, commended me as if to an innkeeper to this interpreter by whom I have been gifted with Latinity, and redeemed the work for publishing with money far beyond what was necessary for two transcriptions and the printing by scriveners and engravers; and then, instructed not only munificently but also magnificently with all other subsidies for emerging into the light, he brought me to this meridian of literary celebrity, where my History, like that statue of Memnon struck now for the first time by the rays of a sun it had not known, may break forth into voices that will proclaim your merit and that of your house, most holy Pontiff, in me and in the cause of letters, far and wide throughout the whole world. ^A

PETRUS POSSINUS TO THE READER.

I. That now for the first time Georgios Pachymeres, a historian no less worthy of the light of the Latin tongue than many of his peers and successors already long since published by our presses and letters, emerges, is due not only to his misfortune, but also to a certain fault of his own. A reclusive and antiquarian writer, whom it displeases to speak at all with the common crowd, and besides a composer of convoluted and disjointed sentences, he wrapped his vigils in such darkness that he deterred the cares and efforts of the most learned interpreters, to whom he was known, from attempting his edition; he suffered the same fate as they say of cuttlefish and torpedoes, which, because they are rarely deemed worthy of the honor of the table, use the darkness they pour forth and the numbness they shed—the one to repel the eyes of those fishing, the other their hands and arms—from the effort of lifting them from their native gulf.

II. Yet there was no doubt that it was worth the labor to publish his history, which records great and memorable things over nearly eighty years of an obscure century and one destitute of witnesses—if not always in eloquent, at least in prudent, diligent, moral, and generally faithful narration; which exhibits the beginnings of the final "scenes" of the Eastern Empire under the Palaiologan house in such a way that a prudent reader can perceive in them the manifest causes of the tragic catastrophe by which the royal city of Constantine succumbed to the Turks and Muhammad; which teaches many things mentioned nowhere else; which, filling a certain gap in public memory from Niketas and Akropolites to Kantakouzenos, lays a royal road, as it were, with the white chariot-team of historical truth, by which the pageant of triumph might be carried on even to our own times, without anywhere faltering or breaking off; and which finally unfolds the greatest and most celebrated affair of all time—the conciliation of the Greek and Latin churches—so from its earliest origins, and so from the secrets of deliberations and true arguments, through the mazes of devious arts on one side and sincere faith on the other, leads it to its results, that I do not hesitate to assert that this immense subject receives more light from no other Greek writer. ^B

^A

III. It does not escape me that a plausible objection may deservedly be raised against this, that I am publishing Pachymeres’ history, which not infrequently favors the schism of the Greeks, disparages the affairs and rights of the Latins in its narrative, and shows in many ways the author’s bias toward the worse side. I do not deny it, I do not excuse it; it is so, and I confess that in this regard our author has sinned greatly. Yet I contend that the publication of such a book is useful to the public, and indeed desirable even for the sake of the wounded truth and the orthodox faith. And to prove this, I shall not utilize the prejudices of the Church, which permits the reading and approves the histories of Eusebius of Caesarea, held by many to be an Arian; of Socrates and Sozomen, openly Novatians; of Nicephorus Callistus, who occasionally draws from the dregs of heresies; and of other writers who are likewise suspect. I say that, even if all whom I have named were to be exterminated, it is of peculiar importance to the Apostolic See and the universal Roman communion that this work of Pachymeres be placed before the eyes and handled by the hands of all. For in it, the soundness of the doctrine concerning the procession of the Holy Spirit from the Father and the Son, concerning the primacy of the Pope and the right of appeal to the Roman See from every patriarchate whatsoever; the sincere charity and true sanctity of Gregory X and other Roman pontiffs of those times; [and the integrity of] John Veccus, Patriarch of Constantinople, who most zealously embraced the side of the Latins and defended it most constantly—his immense erudition, his most free and most penetrating genius, his intrepid veracity, his blameless life, and his holy character, verified even by divine illuminations—are openly and magnificently proclaimed. And this is done by an eyewitness, and, which is the chief point, one produced from the very house of the adversaries, who himself does not conceal his sympathy for them; so that what he says in our favor should be understood as expressed by the evidence of truth, while what he introduces to the contrary must be recognized as ingrained by the vice of his upbringing, adorned by adulation, [prompted] by ambitious hopes, and extorted by the fear of tyrannical power against the conscience of duty. I dare say: if Pachymeres were entirely orthodox, he would be less helpful. There are snakes that are venomous-free and entirely harmless: but they do not make theriac. Vipers are needed, swollen with deadly juice and infested with a lethal tooth, from which a salutary antidote can be derived; so great is the utility that sometimes resides even in evils and pests! You have the reason why an edition of a schismatic writer is not only tolerable, but even desirable. Furthermore, although I see no more danger that a Catholic might learn schism from reading Pachymeres than that a Christian might be dragged into idolatry through the frequent mention of false gods encountered everywhere in the works of ancient Greeks and Latins commonly in use, I have nevertheless taken diligent pains in the notes on every tainted passage, so that the calumnies and falsehoods might not be to the author’s gain and to the reader’s detriment. ^B

IV. As for the rest, I pray, reader, do not begrudge me the space to set forth briefly the intentions, causes, means, and the whole plan of this edition. The Supreme Pontiff Urban of holy memory, the eighth of that name, preserved in his library treasury two historical works of Pachymeres, transcribed in as many distinct volumes of transmarine and very ancient hand, which were complete and not a little sounder than the codex which the Augsburgher [Wolf] had seen. The former volume, divided into six books, recounts the deeds of Michael Palaeologus before and during his empire; the latter, in seven books, exhibits a great part of the acts of the long principate of Andronicus the Elder. That most learned pontiff, having read through both commentaries, judged them to be worthy of being read in Latin according to the skill in the Greek language that he possessed; and he often and strenuously recommended to his most familiar and trusted associate, the most eminent Cardinal Francesco Barberini, his nephew, that he should procure this. How much diligence he has applied to this over the past twenty years and more, it would be endless to detail. Suffice it to say that nothing in this kind that could in any way be attempted has ever or anywhere been omitted by him. He offered, invited, asked, promised; he acted in person by voice, by written letters, and through friends who met with learned men; in short, he did everything possible so that a supply of a Latin interpreter for Pachymeres might be obtained from somewhere, even sending the very original codices far outside of Italy, as if they themselves could plead their own cause and move one to pity by their presence and supplications: many know that these had lain for many years in the desks of a most learned man on such an occasion. The result was such as the sacred fable of the assembly concerning the kingdom of the trees relates; for as the vine, the olive, and the fig refused, all being happy with their own status, the matter devolved upon the bramble. Although I was conscious of my own meager resources, lesser capacity, and time addicted to most diverse occupations, yet, having learned of the desires of one so eminent to whom Iowe so much, and as they exerted force upon my modesty and performed the role of imperial commands, I did not hesitate to dare beyond my strength, and to undertake the burden of the business, in the sustaining and finishing of which my whole effort and obedience had to be my rest and my genius. ^C

V. Thus, approaching this labor, in reviewing and translating, I had as a foundation the Barberini codex—the one about which I have said much, which I believe is the most complete and best of any that exist anywhere—on transmarine paper, of an antiquity equal to the author Pachymeres, in a hand not indeed the most beautiful or the easiest to read, but learned and exact. I consulted two others in doubtful places, the Vatican and the Allatian. I named the former from the pontifical library, where it is kept. It was formerly [the property] of the man of distinguished C. Aloysius Lollinus, Bishop of Belluno, who, when dying, bequeathed it along with other manuscripts, which he had collected in large numbers, to the Vatican library. In order that I might take it from there to my home and keep it for many months for continuous and freer use, the most illustrious Leo Allatius, prefect of the Vatican library, [offered it] from his private library holdings. It boasts an antiquity of easily four hundred years in the style of its paper and script, but it is [original-script column: see facsimile], mutilated by about ten introductory chapters, and similarly the end is lacunose.

The Vatican manuscript is of a much later hand. In the Barberini codex, two leaves having been accidentally torn out in chapters 5 and 6 of book 1, there were as many lacunae, which I could not fill from Allatius, who lacks the first ten chapters as I said, nor from the Vatican, which is not so much a copy of Pachymeres’ history as it is a compendium, expressing most things in different words and omitting not a few. Therefore I had recourse to the exemplar preserved in the library of the most Christian King at Paris, whence at my request the Rev. Father Philippe Labbe diligently transcribed and sent what was needed to patch up both lacunae.

VI. This is the peculiar excuse for that interpretation of mine, which is not anxiously rigid but sometimes even redundant in paraphrase, concerning this writer, who is the most obscure of all those who have published histories in Greek: some readers know Greek, others (who are the greater crowd) do not. I thought a version scrupulously painstaking, stuttering, and unrefined—which would make the jejune into the squalid, the intricate into the perplexed, and the ambiguous into the confusing—would be suitable for the needs of neither. For those learned in Greek, if indeed any have a desire to know the nature of Pachymerian diction, will attain that far more easily by immediately viewing the Greek context itself than by gazing at it as if in some mirror of a semi-barbarous interpretation, crawling with the most unwilling Latinity along a muddy path through all the traces of Greek style. As for the others, who might take up this history relying entirely on their knowledge of the Latin language, it is manifest that their wish or intent is not to undergo the experiment of passing through the nights and labyrinths of an ambiguous text, but rather to be taught the truth of the events hidden and buried there through clear and pellucid testimony. I have therefore striven, in order to accommodate them, to set forth the meaning of this writer, which I have for the most part investigated with great labor, as clearly as possible, and where the matter required, to render the distinct from the confused, the refined from the horrid, the plain from the twisted, and the open from the enigmatic.

VII. There will indeed be some (I know) to whom neither the work nor the defense of the work will find favor. Such men may even exterminate me with ostracism, provided they ascribe the reason to the shard: "We have proscribed you because you have made a most tenebrous writer intelligible at first glance." But may the Venusian—answering from the opposite direction—augur better things: [i]Solventur risu tabulæ, tu missus abibis.[/i] Truly, if an interpreter does not grasp the mind of the writing, if he invents alien things, if he does not represent whatever lies beneath it, he should by right be thrashed; until, however, he brings forth what is hidden, draws out the involved, digs up what is buried, and while he brings the heart, the innermost juice, and the pure marrow of the abstruse sentence extracted from the broken husk—like a dish of cooked and seasoned food ready for the reader—let those peevish men allow themselves to be served for their own profit, and let them fear to condemn that from which, unless they are dissembling, they feel they themselves are being helped. And yet I would not wish this to be taken as if I arrogantly assert that I have nowhere committed an offense, or that I deny the places where I might deserve to be blamed. One thing I beg: let not judgment be precipitated, and let not the long-suffering critic produce his sharp and black theta at the first sight of a blemish. Let him not be annoyed to learn first in the glossary and the notes what caused me to interpret thus. He will either acquit, or forgive, or perhaps judge more mildly once he has seen what the case is. Why should I demand that the printer’s errors not be imputed to me, when equity herself freely grants it? Every effort has been made with no small struggle that many and grave errors might not intervene: to avoid every light one was beyond human capacity. An index of the principal matters is appended at the end of the observations, by whose admonition the reader who has noticed something may help with his own hand and occupy the place of a good deed. We have set aside the chronological controversies (for there were also knots of that kind here worthy of a corrector) into a separate book, to which the title *Epimetron* has been applied. *The Specimen of the Wisdom of the Ancient Indians*, a book made Greek from the Indian, Persian, and Arabic through the third stage of successive translations, and as it was then most famous in Constantinople and praised by the Emperor who was lecturing there, imposed the necessity of searching for it on those who would otherwise not understand the place in which it is mentioned. Found in the rich storehouse of such things, the museum of the most illustrious Allatius, it has been seen by me through his kind favor, rendered into Latin, and at his judgment and encouragement it is published here in its entirety, likely to find favor, unless I am mistaken, for its not-unpleasant exoticism. Farewell.

GEORGIUS PACHYMERES: MICHAEL PALAEOLOGUS

OR HISTORY OF EVENTS PERFORMED BY MICHAEL PALAEOLOGUS BEFORE AND DURING HIS EMPIRE

^A 1. Prooemium of the author, and concerning the truth of the things narrated.

Georgius, a Constantinopolitan by origin, born and raised in Nicaea, and later having returned to Constantinople when it came under the Roman [dominion] by the providence of God, having reached the age of twenty less one, at that time preserved by the divine lot and having distinguished himself with ecclesiastical dignities, and having reached the honor of *protecdicus*, and having also been honored in the palace with the office of *dicaeophylax*, wrote these things. He did not receive reports from above without witnesses, nor did he believe by hearsay alone, as often happens to one wishing to write, if someone were to say that he had seen or heard it himself, and were to deem the accounts worthy of belief, if he only spoke, to compute them, but rather, as an eyewitness of most things and having seen them happen thus, or having learned accurately from those by whom the things were first seen as they occurred, and yet not without witnesses but rather supported by many others, so that the total time, having a nature to conceal most things through frequent cyclic periods, might not destroy these things, which gradually become evanescent in the passage of time because it is necessary that all things that have appeared should be hidden, as some one of the wise said and truly judged. ^B Yet it is not such that one should make the truth of less account than falsehood when speaking of such things; for history, as one might say, has truth as its soul, and the matter of truth is surely a sacred thing, and he who brings falsehood before it is, outright, a sacrilegious person. Furthermore, it is least of all our intent to add magnitude to things done, as if we were moved by hatred or indeed by goodwill, so that the more

^A likely it is that what has occurred badly should be disparaged, or what has occurred well should be praised, as the discourse charms the ears. For since the things that have taken place anywhere exist to be explained—which is indeed for those who wish to speak, though it is also permissible not to do so if there is no necessity—I am of the opinion that it is better to be silent than to speak otherwise than as they happened. And it is certainly better for the listeners not to know them at all than to learn them otherwise than as history truly desires. For from the former comes that simple ignorance which brings no disgrace, whereas from the latter comes the double kind, in which a person thinks he knows what he is in fact entirely ignorant of; and surely there is nothing worse than this. ^B However, I would not myself have undertaken to write had I not been led to hope that as time proceeds, worse things shall yet occur, and I have been conjecturing what is to come from present events, or rather calculating what will happen from what has already happened. For it is surely far more amazing to the ear that affairs should have progressed, from such a calm and stability as we indeed have tasted, into such a disaster, or that they should have appeared so and fallen from their former flourishing state, when a terrible storm had rushed in, until they withered at their peak, so that they not only failed to bring forth fruit, but did not even possess the breath of vital motion.

2. Why the deeds of those who reigned before are not recorded here.

As for looking back at those who held power before our time, and beginning from there to go through their deeds ^C in order to narrate as we now intend, although for those seeking subjects for speech, it is permissible to omit them and pass them over in silence, with no necessity compelling one to write—since it is indeed better, in my opinion, to pass over in silence than to report otherwise than as things were done (it is better for readers to know nothing of these things than to be taught contrary to how they were truly done, for from the one, a certain simple ignorance arises which carries no shame, but from the other, a double ignorance arises, in that a person thinks he knows what he is entirely ignorant of, than which there is certainly nothing worse). But indeed, even I would not have set out upon the task of writing, had I not been fearing ^D greatly, while estimating the future from the past, that more difficult and harsher times were impending for the future. For it is naturally much more wondrous to the hearing that our affairs should have fallen from such a tranquility as we have tasted into this final calamity, than that matters once composed as we now see them should, upon the encroachment of a new storm, be disturbed from that prosperity into a state of confusion so wretched that the fierce, oncoming tempest leaves hardly enough of the field—though it was but just now flourishing—as would be necessary, I will not say to bring fruit to maturity, but even to preserve, with the hope of shoots eventually emerging again, that vegetative life within, which is maintained with difficulty and wretchedly.

But it would not be easy, I think, even if one were most desirous, to return to those earlier times and [C (cont)] to the deeds of those who presided over affairs before our age, to lead the beginning of our history from there, explaining how they governed the republic securely and with the utmost prudence—for there is nothing better—securing their rule, even though it was confined within narrow limits, namely those of the three remaining cities: Nicaea, Prusa, and thirdly Philadelphia, into which, having been cast out of their fatherland for reasons we have learned, they were compelled to flee and remain. Truly, great things and such as are worthy of no brief writing happened under those rulers; but as I said, it is a very difficult matter for us to narrate, both because the exact and certain memory of the events of that time has not been carried down to us, especially regarding the plans and causes from which each thing then done came to be—for this subject was already occupied by others who, as I judge, applied themselves to it in good faith, not [D (cont)] with a view to present knowledge, but following the history of the events as they lived through them and saw them occur, which, as things were being done, committed them to writing immediately from sight and experience, thus eluding the contrivances of time, which always attempts to obscure the truth and, wrapped in the coils of its own lapses, to bury it as if it did not exist, setting things at odds with one another and, as the Greeks say, as if hurling arrows against those who oppose it—Mercury against Latona, or rather, the former anticipating the arts and strength of the latter and, as it were, breaking the machine. Wherefore the deeds of that time are left to us unsaid and unattempted, as not pertaining to the matter we are engaged in.

If I am not mistaken, one thing from that past memory is worth recalling here, not uselessly; for it is such a thing to which some attribute both the security and tranquility of affairs that existed then, and the perversion and confusion now seen, as one cause producing opposite effects—not in the same state or manner, but indeed working tranquility as long as it was present and applied, and after it was neglected and abandoned (which it should never have been), inducing the disturbance from which we now suffer.

3. How the ancients fortified the frontiers.

They, therefore, being besieged on both sides by two kinds of enemies—by the Persians on the East, and by the Italians on the West, who occupied not only the maritime coast but also the highlands—and being pressed into tight straits from both sides so as hardly to be allowed to breathe freely, would sometimes attack the Persians using the Italians as allies, and at other times, aided by the Scythians, who had newly appeared in these parts and begun to join in alliance with us, they would repel the Italians. Their goal in those circumstances was to fortify the middle ground with secure defenses. As for the part towards the sea, they could not strengthen it with any other fortification than the sea itself; for it was not possible, with the Italians holding the sea and also occupying the approaches, to secure the border so that nothing would be feared from that side. The boundary of the Eastern parts was of a different nature. For since high and craggy mountains stretched along that side, there was great hope of blocking the transit of the enemy, if the ridges and narrow defiles of the valleys beneath were occupied in advance. ^A Wherefore, since they were not equal to sustaining enemies from two different sides, they decided to remove them from those parts for the time being by placing castles and garrisons there, so that at least there might be peace from the Persians. And this was not very difficult, because the tract of rugged mountains there was long, and the guarding of the valleys, through which the passage was narrow, was generally neglected by the Easterners, who were intent on other things. Having therefore deferred the plan of fortifying the maritime towns until such time as they had ejected the Italians from the continent—a matter in which the chief effort was then being expended—they meanwhile purchased peace from the Persians by a pact of annual tribute, which they paid them in no small amount. Thus, rushing with all their force against the Italians, and sweating through persistent labors and most difficult wars, they finally drove them out and transported them across the sea in their own ships, ^B and thus established great tranquillity for the Romans living there. Then, regardless of whether the Persians willed it or not, they resumed the care of fortifying the mountains; and having summoned many robust newcomers from everywhere, they assigned them permanent settlements in those places, and committed the most strongly fortified castles, which they had built with most solid workmanship and which were almost impregnable, to their keeping. In this way, they placed the affairs of the Romans in a position that was indeed most excellent.

4. How they took care of the men and affairs at the frontiers.

Nor, indeed, did they leave those living by the mountains ^C uncared for, as if they were ready to migrate if the enemy should anywhere attack them, having nothing to persuade them to remain and to show valor against them beyond their strength if the situation allowed; but rather, they granted all of them exemption from taxes, and through the foresight of these men, ^D especially the more illustrious ones and those whose courage was bold, they provided for them through letters

^A of those who were dwelling in a state of pride, and having no other sign than that of wealth, and thenceforth keeping watch less sluggishly, but making incursions and resisting, if they were able, those who were doing harm to our affairs.

5.

How, the city having been captured of old by the Italians, affairs in the East were weakened; and concerning Chadenos.

And once approved, ^A he himself was sent to execute what he had previously advised. And indeed, having quickly reached those places (for he could not at all delay concerning the orders he had received), and having found men who were exceedingly wealthy and abounding in both property and flocks, he enrolled them from their own private resources—those upon which each man's livelihood was built—and, having assessed a sum of forty *nomismata* for each, he ordered the greater part of this, along with the remainder of the established tax, which was not small, to be brought into the imperial treasury. This, once done, since the men had first experienced what they had never hoped for, broke their spirit and discouraged their willingness to serve, and they grew lax in their efforts. ^B

5.

How the Persians occupied the Roman mountains.

From that time on, it seemed advantageous to those among the Persians who were warlike and lived by the sword—the others having submitted to the Tocharoi who had recently seized the rule of Persis—to flee to the more fortified heights of the mountains and, by raiding the neighboring areas in the manner of brigands, to eke out a living. And this having come to pass, very many joined together against them, and they often attacked our men, who had become weak, and by gradually overcoming them, they rendered them unable to yield. And they would perhaps have retreated every day to the ramparts of our forces, had it not been for the wages that were paid—for they did not have their own means—upon which the commanders of the armies from time to time also exacted shares from the thefts of the soldiers. But when the commanders became penurious even with these, and ^C the greater number of these men perished—some becoming slaves to the sword, others going over to the enemy, and still others moving elsewhere, since there was no escaping the dire events awaiting them there—and having lived as they could, the enemies occupied the fortifications during the great abandonment by the force that should have stood in their way. From these they were able to raid just as often as they wished and to do harm, not only to those in the neighboring areas (for they already had possession of these), but even to those who were far off. And they provided no small occupation to the Roman armies; those who had once stood firm, ^D resisting for a time, were scarcely able to maintain their positions, largely by their own resolve, though also by the help of many of the enemy frequently coming in, clearly revealing them to our army and often rendering the enemy's concentration ineffective. And these things continued as long as wages were paid at the appointed times, according to custom. They were restricted only from doing evil, and from advancing further or prevailing, and from seeking to injure those they had plundered; rather, they kept themselves to their own territory, remaining as if ready to fight whenever the enemy brought the war into the middle of our territory, but not fighting if the enemy did not wish to wage war. But when the commanders became penurious even about these things, and the multitude of these men was dispersed and consumed, with most being killed and many being subjected to the enemy either by force or by compelled surrender, then finally the fortresses in the Persian...

region were handed over; and those who were released from their other duties, lacking support—and especially those in the western parts, which were indeed depleted of eastern forces before this collapse occurred—not only brought losses to the eastern territories but were themselves in a helpless state, shifting from us to the others ^A and back again, and by this inconsistency of mind causing strain for both sides; for, when the armies were present without being forced to yield, upon a short truce being made, they would again easily defect to the other side if they only came against them with arms. With the affairs of the East in this state ^B and such difficulties arising, we shall speak later of how the situation there progressed according to fortune, having added the reasons; for now, however, we shall resume the narrative and restart at the beginning, from whence it is no worse to begin.

7. How Michael Palaiologos was verified in his loyalty towards the emperors under King John.

Already, while Theodore Laskaris was reigning after his father, Michael Palaiologos, a son-in-law by marriage to the ^C daughter of that man’s cousin, was distinguished by the dignity of Grand Conostaulos (which dignity held all the Italian military force and subjects under its control). He was always regarded with suspicion regarding the kingship, and it was evident from the things he was suppressing that he would attempt a revolution if he found an opportunity. Yet, having given the father of the ruler firm oaths of loyalty, and having further fortified himself with hierarchical curses ^D of excommunication against the faithful if he should ever choose to defect or act deviously towards the emperors at all—this was done at the time when he, having been entrusted with the command of the Westerners by the Emperor, had reason to make secret agreements with the Despot of the Westerners, Michael Angelos, on the condition that the Despot would pledge his own daughter to him in marriage, and he would hand over the Emperor’s territory and, being under him, would assist—as is natural—in the rule of the Despot and father-in-law. Having been reported for this to the Emperor by a servant—to whom he had even confided the details of the plan, as the accuser claimed—he was immediately seized, stripped of his command, and cast into prison in iron chains. As the accusation could not be made clear, it remained uncertain whether the accuser was speaking the truth, as he claimed, or was slandering him, as Palaiologos, while offering to fight a duel for the truth, maintained in his defense.

^A Although it was an ancient custom for emperors to yield to the bishops regarding the dubious accusations of the accusers, the emperor still had not let the suspicion slip away, nor had he cast off the reproach of his disbelief entirely. He kept him bound in prison for a sufficient time, and the suspicion remained. But since there was no one else who dared to intercede with the emperor on his behalf, the patriarch at that time, Manuel, who was staying with the emperor for several months in Lydia, because he was ready for a fight and it was clear that the emperor was inclined to grant the priest some favor, he released his other concerns and brought forward a petition on behalf of the man in shackles, imploring the emperor to take pity on him as he was being slandered. "If, however," he said, "you do not completely set aside the suspicion, O Emperor, he will give you a pledge of fidelity for the future, accepting upon himself the censures of the Church, by which he will not only be thoroughly established, but by the very fear of which, the unyielding thought of rebellion will not enter his mind, but, being a Christian, he will fear God's judgment and will keep his oaths regarding his fidelity to you and your kin without deceit." Speaking thus, he persuaded the emperor to hear the request, and he inclined toward compassion for the condemned man, pledging his own soul that he would be entirely ^B benevolent toward him if he, for his part, would make his future loyalty to him firm, as the priest promised. And indeed, the priest having arrived around Achyraous, along with several other archbishops, he sent to the emperor—just as the emperor had instructed him upon his departure—one of his own intimates, a man adorned with the priesthood. The emperor, having received him and heard him, immediately released Palaiologos from his chains and willingly sent him to the patriarch himself, along with the companions who had been liberated with him. When he had arrived, and after he had heard the grave warnings and threatenings of the Fathers, adapted to the case and the occasion in the synod, having humbly professed that he would refuse nothing of the canonical discipline and penalties if he should henceforth sin, he gave a new oath of inviolable fidelity with the emperor; and, being about to return, he appeared to the emperor to be so affected toward him that he would not have grudgingly granted it, if he had asked for any favor. Setting aside all else, he offered prayers for Palaiologos, and he prayed that he might take pity on him as one who had suffered calumny. "But if," he was saying, "you do not fully lay aside suspicion of him, O Emperor, he will certainly take precautions for you for the future by whatever pledge of faith you wish, and he will subject himself to the censures of the Church, for fear of incurring which he would altogether avert even the shadow of defection. For a Christian man will certainly fear the judgment of God, and will stand firm by promises sanctioned by His threatening; nor will he ever induce his soul to betray the pledge given to you and your kin, bound by such a ceremony." The emperor, having revered him while he was saying these things, ^C assented to his liberation from the wretched prison, promising moreover with a mind clearly benevolent toward him that he would be such, if he too, for his own part, as the patriarch guaranteed, would show his zeal and fidelity toward the prince. Hence, when the patriarch was present at Achyraous with many other bishops together, he sent to the emperor, just as he himself had prescribed to him upon his departure, one from his intimates who was endowed with the priesthood, by whom the emperor, having received him and listened to him, immediately loosed Palaiologos from his bonds and very willingly sent him to the patriarch himself, along with those who had been liberated with him. When he had arrived there, after he heard the grave admonitions and comminations of the Fathers in the synod, adapted to the case and to the time, he submissively professed that he would refuse nothing of the canonical animadversions and penalties if he should thereafter return to the prince, and he was honored with great benevolence and a manifestation of favor. He kept a sharp watch upon the state of his own affairs, looking about on all sides and observing most solicitously how he might keep himself superior to any evil suspicion. And in this care and custody he persevered all the more intently, as he perceived himself to be more exposed to envy and to the displeasure of those in power, especially at the pinnacle of the greatest dignity, and especially the suspicion of the younger of them, the successor designated in the principate, from whose suspicious mind he both feared for himself and took as much precaution as he could.

8. How the younger Laskaris, slighting many of those in office, replaces them with others.

But since he was of an ardent nature, and, while headlong in all other things, he was also very prone to think that he was being held in contempt (for the disease by which he was held and was much ^D oppressed made him an opportune and ready man to believe such things and to interpret the things he heard or perceived for the worse), he deprived Raoul Alexios, decorated with the dignity of protovestiarios, of his magistracy, and in his place he promoted George Mouzalon of Adramyttion, to whom he also gave in marriage Theodora, of the family of the Kantakouzenoi, niece of Palaiologos on his sister's side. He also made his younger brother, Andronikos, the grand domestic, having placed in marriage to him Cloista, the daughter of Raoul. Finally, the third of these brothers, the prothierakarios, or supreme head of the hawking ...

^A establishment and royal fowling, he appointed men who were entirely devoid of patrician nobility but were known and recommended to him by the familiarity of his boyhood, because they had appeared among the honorary youths from infancy. He even deprived two of the nobles of their eyes; of whom one was the son of Alexius Strategopulus, a man of high renown and most splendid, named Constantine, deemed worthy of royal kinship by the Emperor himself, since he possessed the grand-niece of the Emperor John, given to him in marriage. The other was Theodore Philes. These and many other new examples he showed daily, intent on depressing the arrogance of princes of royal blood, thereby creating safety for himself by a policy that he believed—and was indeed—prudent. For the disease did not allow him to breathe, as he imagined wicked things night and day.

9. How Colys persuades Palaeologus to flee to the Persians.

For when Palaeologus was prefect of Mesothynia, and had been placed as commander over those same nobles by the order of the Emperor, and was energetically conducting affairs against the Italians, a certain man from the palace, by the name of Colys, came to him, being one of his intimates, and whose face indicated that he was not a little distressed by the things he was coming to say. When these grievances were set forth, he added: "Unless you take yourself off in flight, in a few days your affairs will slide into a great calamity. But staying here is not safe for me either; rather, we must both defect to the Persians, if you have any care for your eyes." He said these things, and being a friend, he easily persuaded his friend, who was always fearing ^B the suspicion of usurped empire that was creeping toward him. For he did not allow even his uncle, Michael Palaeologus—who was also enrolled as a great chartulary—to be without danger. For when he was asked about the empire, he is said to have answered honestly: "If the ruling is owed to anyone by God, he who is called to it may seize it with impunity." When this statement was reported, he became hated and loathed by the Emperor, who judged it an unworthy and intolerable thing for such a man to raise his mind to such thoughts, and he was thrown into custody in chains. When he heard these things, fearing accordingly, he thought that for him to remain in such danger was difficult and most pitiable; yet he judged that to defect to foreigners was indeed safe, but shameful. Therefore, since both evils seemed present, and the danger urgent in choosing one, he chose what seemed the lesser of the two. And so, having taken great pains and diligence to hide his intentions, and having taken with him some of his household, he crossed the river Sangaris ^C and hastened by long journeys straight into Persia, and met with the sultan, who received the man with joy and the honors that were appropriate. Meanwhile, during this interval, while among foreigners under royal banners, he comported himself most bravely in battle against the enemies of the sultan, hoping thereby to conciliate—or at least appease—the Emperor, if he should happen to hear of it. Then, openly repenting of his flight and determined to return to his own people, he communicated his plan to the man who was then presiding over the Iconian Church, and used him as a suppliant before the Emperor, in case ^D

^A he might be able to obtain imperial letters, by which firm assurance might be given him that the Emperor's anger was completely settled, and thus a safe and secure return might befall him. But as the prelate pressed the matter, the Emperor, having sent letters without delay, assented and granted pardon, guarding the man with a signed document that he would suffer nothing harsh or severe from [the Emperor's] anger. He received him back kindly, embraced him as he was dismissing himself and approaching, and spared him, as he confessed he deserved no pardon, and restored him to his former dignity.

10. That Palaiologos, having returned and been received, is sent as commander in the Western regions.

Since reports and letters from our people regarding the capture of Epidamnos in the West were being carried [to the capital], and there was a need there for a prelate, a commander, and a military force, with the prelate having been proclaimed as Chalcoutzes, who held the honor of Great Skeuophylax at the Great Church, Palaiologos was sent together with him to fulfill the office of commander there, with a mandate ^B to use the counsel of the other commanders present there in deciding matters, but especially that of the priest. When they had quickly crossed into Thessaly and were already about to cross the river Bardarios, the commander crossed first with the troops, but found things there in disarray and leaning toward defection, since Manuel, the base-born and obscure son of the Despot Michael, had arrived there with a significant army, and having engaged in battle, at first joined in close combat, pushing the commander with his spear ^C and throwing him off; but when he had risen and remounted his horse, he received a lethal wound from him, and did not return the favor.

11. That Chadenos is sent to lead Palaiologos away in chains.

But when the prelate of Dyrrachium had returned to Thessalonica because of these disturbances, and was endeavoring, as the situation demanded, to have those sent who would stand against the rioters, a rumor ran ahead announcing that Chadenos, the count of the imperial cavalry, would soon arrive in Thessalonica, for no other reason than to seize Palaiologos and bring him to the Emperor in chains. And he (for he was at that time staying in Thessalonica), having heard what was rumored, was grieved, and turning it over in his thoughts, [he wondered] what in the world could have moved the Emperor to not bring him back to himself as he had sent him, but to want to compel him to return in disgrace after having sent him with honor; and [how he could treat] one whom he had deemed worthy of sympathy through letters and had seemed to forget his past deeds so firmly as to deem him worthy of a great command—how could he, breaking agreements, now condemn him as if for acknowledged betrayals? ^D Nevertheless, not knowing where to turn his thoughts or his steps, he decided to flee to God. He shared his intentions with the [prelate] of Dyrrachium, and begged him to join him in his entreaties to the Divine. Immediately, therefore (for the matter also seemed to be pleasing to God from the start), a supplication was sung in the monastery of Acatonius from the night of the evening, of the following

day; the bishop having set his mind to celebrate the holy mystery. As the day dawned and the hour approached for the bishop to perform the liturgy, he enjoined silence ^A on those outside, while he himself communed alone with God, and offered up the customary and preliminary prayers with the greatest possible stillness. It was then, it is said, that he heard the same voice for the third time, not all at once, but with intervals of time between. And the voice was not of a familiar word, nor indeed Greek, nor did it seem to appertain to any other language; for it was pronounced as *Marpou*, and nothing more. The bishop, having marveled at this, immediately approached the metropolitan of Thessalonica (who was the *disypatos* Manuel) and reported how he had stood for the supplication to God with psalmody, and how the voice had arrived unexpectedly, considering the things he had been pondering. And he, having thought over the word for a sufficient time, took the occurrence to his mind, comparing it with the ancient *Beclas*, and having unfolded the elements of the word, he declared plainly that the empire of the Romans was betrothed to Palæologus; for ^B *Michael Augustus Romanorum Palæologus Ocyus Vocabitur* (Michael, Augustus of the Romans, Palæologus shall be invoked swiftly), as he said, is what the word signified.

There are some who say that neither was this heard by the Dyrrhachian nor interpreted by the Thessalonian, but that he, being a wise man and one who was excited by such books as also outline the future of empires, had examined the matter more laboriously and had come to know of these things. And wishing to make these things known to the one to whom the dignity of the empire was betrothed, and to relieve that man of his grief, since he even feared for his very life, he said he could not say he knew them from books to convince him (for he did not hold firmly to books regarding uncertain outcomes), but he feared that if he said he had heard them clearly from God, he might not be believed concerning the account ^C if it happened often; and for this reason, he had communicated with the Dyrrhachian regarding such things, and had suggested to him to say that he had heard the voice, while he himself would pretend to unfold the word that he had composed. Both of them, believing that Palæologus would credit these things, suspended the man on good hopes, and left for themselves, if it should not turn out so, an excuse as having been mistaken in the interpretation, the voice perhaps signifying something other than what they had interpreted to him.

Meanwhile, however, the count of the imperial cavalry who has been mentioned, Chadenus, arrived, and he entered Thessalonica with winged speed, and immediately showed the truth of the rumor by his actions, holding Palæologus in safe custody. But he did not see fit to bind his feet with irons, as had been ordered for him, I know not whether out of reverence for the nobility of the man, or out of some friendship toward him; for the idea of suspecting something good concerning him did not allow for the dictates of anger. For the time being, having performed the courtesies ^D of honor toward him,

^A he ensures, as much as possible, that he not be disgraced before the many in the city by being bound in iron fetters, and he leads him out by night. When they had traveled far enough from the city, the one [the guard] acknowledges the orders he had received, and how he had—out of a sense of duty toward the honor of the other—disregarded those orders, but he did not wish to ^B push his boldness any further (for it was not safe for either of them); the other [Palaiologos], in turn, appearing to know how much he owed him for this, offered himself ready to carry out what was commanded. And so, having wrapped himself in irons, in such a way that he could even sit on horseback with his legs weighed down, thus they both finished the journey together. It so happened that during the journey, as it is told, a good omen appeared, like a prophecy of what was shortly to come to pass. The matter was this: they were going along, and naturally, one was anxious about the future, while the other, realizing the state of his sorrow, was trying to divert him to a more cheerful mood; after he had taken a breath from his deep sadness, he ordered him to chant, and to sing melodiously whatever came to his mind (for he who was carrying him, it seems, also had ^C knowledge of such things), so that, as he said, they might thereby be slightly relieved. Then, immediately, those words came spontaneously to the mind of him who was chanting melodiously: "Now the prophetic prediction hastens to be fulfilled," not sluggishly, nor as if put off, but with a fanatical fervor, raising his voice beyond all measure and beyond his strength. Whereupon it happened that the prisoner felt refreshed and gladdened, not only (as he had only wished) by the sweet sound of the voice, but mostly by the recollection brought by that song of the prophecy that had once promised him the kingdom, in the confirmation of which—by this unexpected singing, as if by a new omen of divine significance—he silently congratulated himself. Meanwhile, after some days had passed on the journey, the companion went immediately upon arrival to the emperor and announced the arrival of Palaiologos; but he [the emperor], not deeming him worthy of an audience, had him received into prison as a condemned man, even though, as we have said, he remained in his mind privately confident of better things from divine portents. However, the thorough examination of his case was deferred until such time as the emperor, in regards to his health, might be able to attend to the matter. This delay was long, as the prince's illness persisted and the prisoner remained in custody for so long—not, indeed, as one convicted of a major crime; for he was troubled almost entirely by those old suspicions, but also by those newly fanned by the malicious breath of informers, who kept whispering of imperial predictions allegedly cast about regarding Palaiologos. This was the true cause of his detention, for which the crime of aspiring to the throne was used as a pretext. But the narrative must be taken up from a higher point, so that the proposed matter may be treated in a way more suited to the reader's understanding. ^D

12. How the Emperor, being ill, suspected everyone of sorcery: and the case of Martha.

as it seems, was ^A from a natural boiling of the heart. Hence, I think that his natural wit, which was beyond what was fitting, was not enough to contain the distemper; and from this, the ailment deviated from the usual, so that it often did not send up useful respirations to the brain, which is the source of the faculty of reason. For on this matter, one might reconcile the contention of philosophers regarding the faculty of reason: for the heart is the source of thoughts, though they are brought up to the brain; and as that brain has symmetry or lack thereof, so the thing brought up is formed. At that time, then, because the disease fell upon him frequently, I know not whence, the sufferer supposed that the affliction was a sign of demonic sorcery. And the common people, those on the outside who were ready to believe such things, laid the blame on the Mouzalones, unreasonably and in a way they would not have expected, since they had already obtained honors; yet to the sufferer, everyone was suspect if only someone accused them of sorcery. Hence, many, even of ordinary people, were arrested if anyone happened to whisper an accusation. And the one pursuing the charge of sorcery often put forward the accusation against another on his own behalf or on his neighbor’s, as if he would also receive a reward after proving it; but when the accusation was brought before the emperor immediately (for he could not bear to listen to silence), he, fearing not on behalf of another but entirely for himself, commanded that it be investigated. And the standard for the one on trial to be acquitted—not that he was chosen by all the votes, nor by the production of witnesses, ^B or by any other means by which a lie is exposed—but there was one and only one thing that saved those who had been seized, if they could, with a daring hand, lift and walk three paces with a mass of iron already glowing from the fire, which they called holy; having previously, for three days before these things happened, been purified by fasting and prayer, and having the hand marked and covered with a piece of linen and a seal, so that no one might attempt to anoint it with anything to prevent touching or burning the fire. And the one who writes this saw, rejoicing at it at that time, some who underwent such things, yet escaped without harm, which was a marvel. At that time, then, it was arranged by the ruler that others also receive in marriage women of good birth, even if those men were often from parents who were not noble; yet that nobility was given by the ruler to them, and as they had to be honored with titles, the ruler set the relationship as a grace to both sides, so that those men were magnified in a way befitting matrons, as a Roman would say, and those women in turn shared in the honors of those taken. Accordingly, among others, the ruler commanded to a certain one of his attendants—those assigned to the pages while his father was still alive, by the surname Balanidiotes—that he enter into a lawful marriage with Theodora, the daughter of the sister of Palaiologos, Maria, or perhaps Martha, whom she had borne to the Great Domestic Tarchaneiotes. And the speech of the emperor was to them a form of binding betrothal, even...

as the bridegroom, emboldened, began to enter the girl’s house. But a short time passed, measuring out that betrothal, and I know not what came over the sovereign—though power holds itself superior to justice—but he bestowed the aforementioned girl, who was of noble birth, upon Basil, the son of Caballarios, who was himself noble. The latter welcomed the gift with joy, as a mark of favor, and pressed for the marriage. However, the women, who inclined towards the first agreement and were held bound by the shame of changing it, found the bridegroom repulsive. But for a time—since the sovereign was ordering it—the prescribed rites were performed in the hearing of those women, and the weddings were conducted openly. But the bridegroom for many days did not fulfill the husband’s duty toward the girl. And when the emperor inquired how this could be, the bridegroom at first gave evasive answers, as though he did not wish to reveal the truth, but when he was questioned more forcefully, he claimed that sorcery was the obstacle. ^B Immediately, a terrible suspicion and wrath arose within the sovereign, and he seemed unwilling to let the matter rest unless the sorcery were confessed. Thus, a sack of straw was brought, and the noble old woman, naked along with cats, was thrust inside; and as these were provoked from the outside by the pricking of needles, they would pierce the victim with their claws, so that she was compelled, even against her will, to reveal the secret. But she could say nothing more than that she was not aware of having practiced any such thing, and that the girl, bound by her affection for her former suitor, recoiled from the second. The emperor, hearing this, did not wish to rage further, fearing for himself because of the old woman, who was—as he suspected—practiced in dire incantations, lest she turn her sorcery against him if she were further provoked; or perhaps he feared that Palaiologos, hearing of such an atrocious injury against his own sister, might lean toward rebellion. And so, to prevent this, he sent for him, as we have said, and having stripped him of his command, he brought him in as a prisoner, ostensibly to answer to the charge of sorcery, but in truth the event was a pretext of fear to prevent him from hearing of it and attempting a revolt. This was clear from the fact that not long after, he did not summon him again from prison to show him sympathy, but rather, because he feared for himself and his own affairs due to his illness, he deemed him worthy of being a guardian to his family, and kept in mind his favor toward him in these matters, namely that, although he was worthy of suffering evil for his past deeds, he had not inflicted any irreparable harm upon him out of sympathy.

13. Death of the Emperor Theodore; and his achievements while still living.

By the same year, as it turned toward autumn, the sovereign departed this life, leaving behind four orphaned children, three daughters and one nine-year-old male, John, who was named after his grandfather. For the eldest of the daughters had already been given away in marriage: one indeed to the ruler of Bulgaria, Constantine Tich, and the other to the son ^A of the Western despot, who was...

^A destined for Nicephorus, the son of Michael. This event was also foreshadowed by a sign: for the sun had failed at the third hour of the sixth day, and deep darkness had overtaken everything, so that the stars even appeared in the sky. And so, a man not only born and raised in a royal manner, but also brought up and educated in a royal manner, was snatched away before his time. Even if he did not resemble his father in the profound and wise character of his words and actions, nor in the firmness and immutability of his resolve once a decision had been made, he nevertheless possessed from his grandfather an eager, noble, and spirited mind for all things, and from his mother a most beneficent nature, so that he would pour out wealth to his subjects with both hands, not only without sorrow but even with joy. He was, furthermore, most devoted to literature, and most accustomed to embracing men of letters with benefits, and was so intent on the meditation of the finest arts, and through his natural disposition—no less than through his formal training—attained such a great ability for elegant writing, that he could compose many things discursively whenever he deemed it worthwhile to apply himself to it. I will provide a single proof of this matter (while passing over many similar ones): when a more solemn feast of some saint had dawned, without any preparation other than turning his mind away from his business, and while simply listening to the clerics as they recited the six psalms in their calm and distinct manner—which are accustomed to be prefixed to the morning chant—he would compose on the spot an encomium for the blessed one (which they call a "canon"), weaving together the praises of him whose memory was being celebrated with a most skillful and ornate proclamation; this he would crown with such liberal generosity that he seemed to scatter it everywhere and almost cast it ^B to anyone at all. He left no one unrewarded—neither those who were chanting, nor those who were merely listening to the hymns, nor if there were someone among those keeping watch, or among the weapon-bearers and guards of the emperor, or if someone had come to serve the court in another capacity or had arrived from elsewhere. For he poured out royal mercy indiscriminately to all, and especially to the soldiers and those who were studious of literature. For there was not a day, nor a night, nor a time of dejection, nor an hour of joy, nor a rising sun, nor a setting one, when someone could see or hear of the emperor without a benefaction, or of him accepting one or others receiving the like. Yet, being such a man, he seemed burdensome to those in positions of authority, because he did not select those who were in charge of affairs based on nobility or royal fame, but on merit, and he honored them with the corresponding dignities. And those of his own blood who happened to be related to him, he judged it sufficient for them that this honor of birth was enough, and that their own lot and the fame of their lineage was already in place of great dignity. But this was, if one were to consider it, the virtue of a ruler who promotes and calls his subjects to the pursuit of all true praise. For he did not judge that the magistracies were rewards for sloth, but rather courses or prizes for heroic virtue; he decreed that these should be committed only to those who were judged capable of conducting themselves excellently in them and of governing others in a fitting and wholesome manner. And in his character there was also a terrifying quality, so that he was ready to punish one acting otherwise than he ought, and to recompense he who succeeds.

For a great man’s mistake is no small thing, nor, on the contrary, is his achievement; but the former is like a bodily mutilation, since it has great consequence for the whole nature to be beset and distorted, whereas the achievement is like the center of a circle, providing very great safety to the circumference if it remains in its proper place. And how indeed would he not be destined to administer the empire as was fitting—he who, under such a father, although not even bearing the name of emperor, while all things were in the power of that father, was nonetheless being taught in advance to herd the flock in safety?

14. How Lascaris was educated by his father John as he was being led to the empire.

^A As he went out one time for the hunt wearing gold-embroidered clothing, he returned from there and chanced to meet his father. And as he did obeisance, he [the father] pretended not to see or pay attention to him, and neglected him as he approached. This, which happened as a sign of his father's anger towards him—which was indeed the truth—seemed to be so. Whence, being anxious and thinking that he had sinned, he approached his father in private, not with much confidence. But he, having seen him, and immediately being moved towards him with indignation, said: "What good act, conscious of yourself, have you done for the Romans, that you squander theirs in pastimes possessing no necessity? Or do you not know," he says, "that these gold-marked and silken garments are the blood of the Romans, which it was necessary to use for their benefit, since they belong to them? And you ask to learn also when [you should use them] for their benefit? Clearly, when embassies from abroad stand before us, in order that we might show forth—by displaying their wealth—the glory of our attire. For the wealth of kings is reckoned as the wealth of the subjects; for which reason, for them to be in servitude to others while they are in such a state is something most detested. You, since you use these in vain, do not reckon how great is this offense." Thus, even in such matters as these, he who was to be led to the empire was educated.

15. How the protovestiarios Mouzalon became the guardian ^B of the young emperor John.

Then, after he had died, since the protovestiarios Mouzalon was announced to hold the guardianship of the underage emperor by the father and emperor who had donned the monk's habit, and inasmuch as that young ruler, John, was not able to—due to the immaturity ^C of his age—guard himself, nor yet possessed the strength to defend himself, ^D

^A it was necessary to provide a sure defense for him, lest he suffer something unexpectedly; for there were many who were plotting against him, and if even the slightest movement were made, they were immediately ready to bring about the greatest disasters. For this reason, those in charge brought him to the fortress of Magnesia near the Hermus, and stationed numerous watchers over him for imperial service.

The notables, meanwhile—some of whom still remained in their honors, while others, having been cast into corners of the earth in neglect, were jumping up from their wrath—possessed their affairs freely, but, not yet daring to speak with their tongues (for the Muzalones were standing over them), they restrained their anger. And all pretended to be obedient to them, as if they were supposedly subject to the young king, even if those who had suffered at the hands of his father—who had eaten the sour grapes of wrath and had made them drink the cup of bitterness—were still feeling the set teeth of the son. Yet, holding such ill will, some toward the young man who was being tutored, and others toward those who stood over him—having suffered something from them in the past, yet not even then did retribution permit them to stay quiet—since it was likely that those who had been honored would not nurse grievances maliciously, they bowed for the time being to the fear they felt toward them.

Then ^B the first of the Muzalones, he who had been honored with the dignity of protovestiarios, seeing the great and terrible envy creeping in, and [perceiving] that he was being suspected by many of aiming at the throne, and from this foreseeing the great danger, he, being prudent, knew to test the army by experience, and at the same time to recognize the disposition of the magnates toward him, desiring to demonstrate, by many prior symbols of submission and service, his zeal toward the underage master in all that he said and did. ^C Then, therefore, having summoned as many as there were of the senate, and as many of the royal lineage, and as many of the archons, and as much of the military order, with the brothers of the great-grandfather of the emperor, Lascaris, being present there—who himself had also formerly shone with the diadem of the empire and reclaimed the affairs of the Romans, which had fallen into confusion, as best he could—and with the blind also not being absent from there (these were Strategopoulos and Philes), and with every other magnate filling out the assembly, standing on high so that he might at once be heard by the first as well as the last, he spoke as follows:

16. Oration of the Protovestiarios Muzalon.

16. Speech of the Protovestiarius Mouzalon.

^A To recount our affairs from the beginning before you at this time, noble men and companions, would seem superfluous, I think, and alien to the present moment; for necessity urges us to pass over these things and proceed at once to what is pressing. For we were, so to speak, born in the palace, raised under a father who served the emperors, and then taken up and brought to the palace school to receive an education under our blessed emperor who guided our father. And that we served faithfully, attaching ourselves to whatever he might command, mixing love with fear—of this, you all could bear witness. For it was not in us to turn to anything else than to serve the master guilelessly, even if, perhaps, success was not to be found in our endeavors; for we hold that faith joined with zeal, even if one does not succeed, is to be esteemed, and that it overcomes ill-will. As for the fact that we received honors and dignities greater than we expected from our ruling master, that was his own choice. For what did we possess that was so admirable, that we should be honored with so much? Yet it seemed good to the emperor, and we remained in those dignities, though not in such a way as to maliciously ^B seek to harm anyone. Our conscience knows this. For neither did such a thing originate our honors, nor do we consider it a shameful act to strengthen them afterwards in such a way. For if a man who has great influence with a ruler trips up others by submitting what is not becoming, there is no one who would not justly feel resentment. But that we did not approach the ruler with base flatteries and ignoble machinations, dragging the gates of his favor toward ourselves by burdening others—this was shown by the many repeated blows we received from him, to the point that we were often scourged to the brink of death. And that we had love for each one of you, and that we valued your acceptance by him more than everything else, I think many who know the facts could declare. But if sometimes we did not succeed in our entreaties, I do not know that this is to be blamed on us. Yet, that the difficulty of the times surrounds even those who are guilty of nothing with the gravest suspicions, if one were to judge rightly, is not perhaps surprising. For the difficulty of the times, having affected even the greatest men, and those who should not have suffered according to justice, brought calamity upon them, and upon us suspicion (for... ^C ...we would say...) attached to us from plausible circumstances. Yet...

^A a judge might be expected to look upon the divine eye, which knows how to punish wickedness while having nothing to be deceived by. Thus are we free from such things, even if irreparable outcomes befell some others. For his will was everywhere a barrier, and to stand against it was not only to be in danger of necessity, but unseasonableness also attended it; for a king is more powerful by far when he is angry against the inferior. These things have been said so as to show that we neither strove to obtain our dignities, nor can anyone justly blame us for the anger of the king directed against some of the greatest men. Yet perhaps there was a mistake on the part of one, and in others there was a suspicion, even if not among the virtuous; and there was, regarding some matters, a will of the king stirred up by passion. And another, being good, was deemed unfit and overlooked, though he was in no way deserving of it. There was, therefore, a time for those things, as it seemed best to the Superior. But now, I think, it is time for relaxation. For behold! The one who was ruling is gone, and he who is worthy to rule from him is a young boy, as you see, and for this reason, there is a need for much care from those who are faithful, and frequent diligence, as they ought to keep watch both toward those within and those without, lest by chance any irreparable harm should occur. And how it is proper and just to maintain a more faithful service now than before to the master, I will speak without holding anything back.

^B First, to foster and not to weigh down the one reigning—which draws goodwill unto himself from that which is done by the ruled—since they suspect nothing that they might suffer, and with fear absent, they will not be timid, and he will be ready to show the things of love even for himself. For the zeal with which one serves, whether fear or love sustains it, even if we are necessarily bound to serve—with fear absent—the whole matter will turn upon love; and with pure and unclouded love present, there is no one who will let go of what is proper for service, so as even to neglect it. And this is the first point, but the second is this: that being ruled by a new master who is being established—when the kindness from him toward the subjects might not otherwise be necessary, the time makes it necessary—not that we should seek how we might escape suffering harm in the future, but rather how we might hope to fare well, expecting it. And it is possible for each to obtain whatever he wishes, if he only be judged worthy, and the abundance of generosity will be attendant. For the one who holds power is young, and being under guardians, he will not have the opportunity to yield to his own will—whence, often, there is the stumbling toward what is proper, when the pride of rule overcomes the reason. But to those ^C acting to serve a common master, I will speak, concealing nothing. First, that simplicity of the master, acting with childlike sincerity, without artifice or guile, concealing nothing, plotting nothing in secret or by hidden means, thinking nothing suspiciously of what the subjects do, what else is this but that which draws and captures the goodwill of all by a certain ineluctable grace, their zeal, and their most tender affections, especially toward a prince who is in every respect now lovable, from whom no one could even imagine—even in thought—that he might suffer anything that he would not wish? Moreover, with all fear excluded, there remains pure and free charity, by whose sole noble and praiseworthy impulse it is natural for each to show zeal toward the prince, from which there is clearly nothing for him to fear. Indeed, amongst the causes of the obedience of citizens toward kings, these two are almost the only ones: fear or charity. Therefore, since it has now been established that there is no place for fear, it follows that the whole is to be imputed to charity. But where true and sincere charity is present, it is impossible that anyone would refuse anything, or neglect any of those things that pertain to the service of him whom he truly loves. The other reason which persuades what I have proposed is this: the recent kindness of a just prince toward his subjects, which at another time might be free, becomes necessary at such a juncture of affairs. Not only, therefore, are we free from fear, but we are called into the best hopes; nor does our whole happiness lie in safety from evil, for beyond this, an expected abundance of good things is shown to us. What everyone wishes is at hand. Let him only wish, let him approach: he will receive, if he is judged worthy; generosity, being by no means avaricious, will meet even avid desires, for he is a youth, a prince, and one who does not dispense things by his own arbitrary will. But if this were so, one might fear the more that he might stumble if he were to manage his own affairs by himself. ^D

^A And since obtaining now through him the things one desires is easy, how is it necessary to submit to the emperor with all eagerness? But apart from these things—and I pass over most matters in silence, for at that time there was a fear that he who had succeeded might be tripped up, as others, pretending to have the imperial impetus, were accustomed to steal away the credit in whatever manner that was—for this reason there was no incentive to strive to do more than others, nor to attempt to do so, as there was no one present capable of speaking to the emperor and bearing witness clearly; and the zeal of one who was zealous was often in vain, deceiving him and damaging the approval he earned for what he had done. But now, when the affairs being managed in this way are well-ordered, it would be fitting for each person’s zeal to be clear and to be rewarded with better things. Therefore, we must be eager, for since it is not necessary to fear the emperor, it is necessary to fear on behalf of the emperor, so that from this or that—whether he is saved, or if things go badly, if he is not saved—it happens that we have reason to hope. And these points I have made to my fellow soldiers and comrades; [P. 26] but to those of you whose birth is eminent and whose dignities are resplendent, it occurs to me to speak with ^B the frankness and appropriate liberty demanded by the fact that the truth is about to be spoken. I have not approached the guardianship of the emperor out of my own private and self-willed motivations, nor indeed with any aim or study of my own, but I have been chosen to attend to these commissions, first of all by fulfilling the emperor's letters, and then... But I do not wish to speak of it. Nevertheless, I wish to attend to these, and only these. If then you wish to appoint someone else to oversee this, it will suffice for me to be placed in the lowest position. And even if someone were to appropriately prize the imperial salvation, and would be content to live as a private citizen, I will also entreat him not to let the master be angered if my dignity seems to trouble some of you. For it is better to serve safely as one of the soldiers than to live in fear and suspicions with dignity. Behold, therefore, by the entirely good providence of God, both the subjects are obedient and the military is well-ordered and the enemy is at rest. And there are many of you who are great, some being of the blood of the one in power, and others excelling in dignities and in whatever one might call good and noble. And since it is necessary that the emperor be cared for, let him who is not incompatible be selected, and I will see ^C and prosperities depend upon his. Thus far I have spoken to my fellow soldiers and comrades; next, I decided that these things must be said to those whose lineage is eminent and whose dignities in the republic are resplendent, with that liberty and confidence which the consciousness of truth inspires in the speaker. I did not approach the protection of the prince out of my own inclination and by private counsel, nor did I apply myself to being placed over so difficult a matter by art or ambition, but I first rushed forward obedient to the supreme commands of the emperor, and then— But I restrain myself, nor do I wish to use this kind of speech. I profess only this to you, that I am willing to persevere in this duty if you so command. Therefore, decide what is pleasing. If it seems best, appoint another to this care: I will yield willingly, and I will permit myself to be reduced to the ranks, content with the lowest position; and seeing that you have chosen another suitable person who, as is right, keeps watch over the safety of the young prince, I will embrace the lot of private quiet with a most equanimous mind. Moreover, I will even use the humblest prayers to the prince, that he may not take it ill that I withdraw from his care, because the fact that I am adorned with such a great and honorable prefecture may not be approved by some of you. For it is far more preferable to serve the republic in the condition and fortune of a soldier or a commoner than to live anxiously in dignity amidst fears and suspicions. Behold, therefore, through the beneficent providence of the Divinity, both the subjects are submissive to obedience, and the soldiers maintain discipline, and the enemies are at rest and allow us to be at rest, and this order of yours of most noble princes abounds in number, of whom some are blood relations of the emperor, some are illustrious in the highest dignities, and are most distinguished by gifts of every kind that could best commend any man. From these, let him be chosen who, as the situation demands and is necessary,

will exercise tutelage over the young prince. I shall assent, accept, and add my own voice to the common ballot; for it is not private calculations of our own state or fortune, but the interest and safety of the prince that we seek and prefer above all things before the common vote. ^A For we do not pursue private interests, but set the emperor's needs before all else. Even if someone among those voting does not wish it, he will achieve nothing if the other does not wish it; for your will shall prevail. I am so democratic in my outlook that I do not desire anything more for myself on any account; if you are willing that I remain in these matters, I choose to remain; if you are not willing, I want nothing else and will meddle in nothing, even if I suffer the most extreme consequences. I therefore implore you to speak the truth without concealment. For what necessity of fear is there that prevents one from standing and speaking? There is no one to contradict you, and there is no fear at all if one chooses to say what seems right. Therefore, let each man deliberate and act for the common good alongside the others, and say what to him seems safe to propose, for you will be listened to kindly no matter what you say. For to provoke a master is perhaps not safe, but when he is treated as an equal, the speaker gains an opportunity for frankness, as it is a greater thing ^B to judge than belongs to those men. But even with that absent now, he who says whatever he wishes has, on both counts, freedom from risk to himself.

The crowd let out a confused clamor, and seemed to approve of the man who had been placed under the emperor; they appeared to be glad for the ruler, while heaping onto the other man excessive and surprising praises, fawning upon the occasion no less than they feared the risk, or rather, than they spoke what was in their minds. As for the nobles, one offering one thing and another another to the present situation, it was clear that they were currying favor with the occasion, speaking grandly and elevating him even above themselves. They were so far from appearing to blame him for what had happened that they even laid the causes upon the emperor alone, and acknowledged that it was not outside of justice to have suffered so, unless it was for one thing: that being under a master who held their lives in his hands, they considered themselves accountable to him alone and were justly punished.

17. Apology against the speech of Palaiologos.

Now Michael Palaiologos, being at that time Great Conostaulus, whether truly favoring him whose wife's uncle he remembered himself to be, and thinking that by the communion of the family he would also come to participate in his glory, or because he himself, not being inexperienced in flattery, thought that it should be seized, ^C thus occupied a position free from danger, such as one who speaks to equals is not exposed to. No one here stands as an arbiter of what is said, eminent in princely rank; the condition of all is similar, and the judgment is common. Wherefore, if there is anywhere a place for free speech and for one not holding back anything out of fear—whatever side the opinion may lean—it is certainly here. After the protovestiarios had spoken these things, the crowded multitude cried out with I know not what mixed and confused voices, which seemed to declare that they were willingly subjected to him after the emperor; it was apparent that this was said with a desire to flatter the prince. They also showered the protovestiarios with liberal praises, even invidious ones, proclaiming that he was worthy to govern them. These were voices more of those serving the times and fearing the dangers of free speech than of those expressing their true sentiments. But the nobles, one by one, spoke submissively and perfunctorily about the present state of affairs, so that it was clear to all that they were currying favor with those who held power at the time. They praised the protovestiarios, and preferred him to themselves; but they were so far from accusing him concerning those matters which had turned out heavily and publicly invidious for some, that they clearly conferred the causes of everything upon the emperor, adding—as if to excuse him—that they had not suffered such things unjustly, if only because they had carried upon their necks a lord who held the power over their lives, to whom it seemed that they had been guilty and justly punished.

17. Response of Palaiologos to the speech of the protovestiarios.

But Michael Palaiologos, then Great Conostaulus, whether truly favoring him whose wife's uncle he remembered himself to be, and thinking that through the communion of the family he would also come to participate in his glory, or because he himself, not being inexperienced in flattery, thought it should be caught,

^A seeking after the occasion to insinuate himself into the favor of those who were then powerful, after the responses we have indicated from others and the submission they signified, he raised his voice more deeply and, as it were, more freely, and replied to the assembly: "How then, I ask, did it come into your mind," he said, "to hold the discourse you have just expressed to us? As if you did not excel all in merit and dignity, being preferred by the judgment of the emperor! Yet what false accusation has maligned us before you, as though we appeared to be hostile to one who held the office of the emperor? But who could justly blame you for the things which it happened that you suffered from the anger of the deceased prince? No one is so ignorant of affairs that the nature of him who previously held rule, quick to anger as he was, is not known to him. Who, moreover, is unaware how great was the bitterness of that time, which raged against everyone, and even more so against those who were close? ^B Indeed, no one was almost entirely free of this, unless perhaps one who was far removed from us and alien by birth. But since we are obligated by oath and agreement to show fidelity to him whom we possess as prince, even unbearable things must be endured if it should please him, provided no one incites him or goads him with malicious accusations against some wretched man to whom he is hostile. Where, therefore, the one who caused the injury is himself absolved—by the proper right of the realm known to all—it would be truly idle to attack others with suspicions of false suggestions, by which, forsooth, they would have kindled a wrath that was not already burning enough by itself. These things have happened and passed; and to dwell now on recounting such matters would be similar to instituting an anxious inquiry into why someone died when they were dead. For as in that case a fatal necessity, whether a serious disease has attacked or not, absolves the cause, so also it was our fate to suffer these things, just as even if none were to attack ^C or were to do so, suffering is near to necessity here, even if there might be those who suggest words and those who might not. And for one who is ordered under another and is a slave, as much as it pertains to suffering grief justly, so much does it also avail for consolation to suffer such things unjustly, even if they are the greatest things. Where, then, is the occasion for us, given the state of affairs, to remember such things and to attach a groundless accusation to you? That you should be honored by the emperor with greater dignities was not only the will of the emperor and a matter of chance, or some irrational and superfluous impulse regarding you (for anyone who would think so would be insane); but the natural advantages you possess, and the ability to know, speak, and act better than most, and your guileless and pure fidelity toward him, and your constant and great labors in the administration of the republic, and other things by which a true man of such rank would be adorned, these were the things that persuaded the emperor's ^D mind to hold you in esteem and to honor you with what is appropriate. And what harm has come to anyone because of this? As if it were not possible for others to be honored unless you were placed in the lowest rank. For if it were the case that others could only be honored by your being overlooked, you would have good reason to bring accusations: but since it was possible for both you to be honored and for others also to receive their due or desired dignities, when nothing prevented you from being adorned whilst others also received their merited or coveted dignities, when

it could have happened that those who were already in honors should keep what they possessed, and those who were worthy should none the less receive what was appropriate to them from the Emperor, how is it just to imagine things that are contrary and mutually exclusive, when they could have existed together? And by what right do some, if they have suffered any repulses, and if there are any exclusions from honors that pain them, assign them to the Emperor’s propensity toward you and to your own fortune as if these were the true causes? Cease, therefore, to turn such suspicions over in your mind, by which, when you express them in words, you distress your hearers in no small measure. And I, although I have many things that I could say concerning these matters, will only add this: if you, being such as you are, were living in some foreign land, I would pray with ardent vows that you might be translated hither by divine power in a moment of time and be set over the governance of our affairs, in the state they are in today, much less would I take it ill that you yourselves should procure your coming hither at your own expense and in other ways, and deign to undertake the difficult care of our state at this time. But you now, forsooth, as if there were some person more worthy than you to whom the administration of affairs should be handed over, await, as you say, a nod from us and a sign of our will. Yet who among us would arrogate so much to himself as to make void the Emperor's judgment of you? And whom besides you shall we find to correctly sustain the dignity of that supreme office and to manage the affairs of the empire, as is fitting, instructed with the resources and gifts and capable of being trusted without hesitation; you, who also excel in merits and dignity, and none the less in prudence and wisdom? Proceed, therefore, to govern the empire, and to provide for and watch over the Prince and the Roman state and its public affairs. We shall obediently follow. For all cannot command. It is not, I say, convenient or right for all to rule and command; for where all are in charge, no one is in charge. Since, therefore, it is necessary that one rule under the Prince, who is more worthy of this place than he who is pre-eminent in merits and dignity? ^A I have opened my mind, and poured out as much as I had in my thoughts. Let him speak, if any other view seems right to anyone. No fear stands in the way, speak securely. We shall all gladly hear whomsoever there may be who has in mind something that he thinks should be preferred. But there is no one among all, as the things themselves show, and as I hear the voices of many, who does not judge the same with us and clearly assent to these things which have now been said.” When the Great Conostaulus had finished these things, the leading men who were present in the council, as if all with one zeal and purpose, ^B put it forward as if they had nothing to add to what had been heard, that they assented to what had been said. Or rather, they even indicated that it would be grave and painful to them if any of those present were to suspect that they themselves thought or would think anything different from what had just been proposed. Whence they also vied with one another in assenting widely with speeches affected for the sake of favor, and each one vied in showing that he valued much more and would much prefer to be subjected to the Protovestiarius than to rule themselves. But these things were nothing other than a veneer and false ostentation, as the event demonstrated. Then, therefore, the assembly being dissolved, the Protovestiarius was clearly persuaded of what he wanted, namely, that the leaders wished and were pleased that both the affairs of the empire and the guardianship of the Prince should be entrusted to his single care and discretion. Wherefore, now secure and confirmed in certain confidence, having assumed all the forces with him, he set out for Magnesia; and there, for the guardianship of the Emperor, [he left] a certain cohort of his most faithful soldiers

having committed the guardianship of the sovereign to men faithful to him, and that of the royal treasury to others equally faithful and worthy, who gave security for the many [treasures], of which the then-logothete of the flocks, Hagiotheodorites, was in charge; he himself meanwhile attended diligently and closely to the administration of public affairs with the rest.

Orders were therefore being written and sent to all the cities of the Roman territory, for other needs as well, but especially and primarily to announce the death of the Emperor, and at the same time the proclamation of the new Emperor, and the requirement for all to swear allegiance to him by the customary oaths. The decrees were being copied out in great numbers; but because the new Emperor was not yet of an age to move his hand to provide the red royal signatures, they gave them over to the aforementioned logothete of the flocks to execute. The protovestiarius, for his part, was occupied with the cares of other matters and was busy, behaving freely, as he suspected no treachery in the plans being made against him.

18. An assault of the army upon the Muzalones.

The envy against him was, in truth, swelling and heavy, and it crept terribly ^A toward him while he was completely unaware of it. And the pretext for those angry with him against him seemed plausible: for they thought they were acting with faithful zeal toward the Emperors, both the father and the son, regarding the former of whom they believed he had been consumed by the magic arts prepared by those [the Muzalones] and had been removed by an untimely and dire death, while regarding the latter, they claimed he was usurping the rule and planning to snatch the power for himself, thinking more highly of himself than he should, despising the Emperor, and greedily laying claim to the empire under honest-looking pretexts.

As for the foreign Italians, whom the great constable had under his command—besides other causes—these were the more vehement reasons for their hatred and their meditated attacks: ^B that they remembered they had been deprived by the Muzalones, and especially by the one who was the eldest among them, of the donations and stipends decreed for them by the still-living Emperor, that they were held in contempt in matters where they contended they ought justly to be honored, that they were excluded from access to and the favor of the Emperor by his suggestions, and that they were treated with ignominy and insults by the command of the protovestiarius. Provoked by these and similar matters, the fair-haired and bloodthirsty race was ready to slaughter them, if only someone would urge them on.

The cause of this, as the story of the many has it, was their own commander of the phalanx, who—since they had previously been stirred up, and then, having been further inflamed and loosed from fear, were eager to dare the irremediable—quickly incited them to venture upon the slaughter, now that they had the opportunity. And the account of later events brings forward the probability of this; for they would not have dared it, being of foreign race and for the most part newcomers, had they not had someone to advance them. And if they were in such a state and dared to act alone, it is necessary to suspect above all else the one who was leading them.

But the envy against him was in truth swelling and heavy, and a terrible [conspiracy] crept against him ^C while he remained totally ignorant of it. And the accusation of secret dealings against him seemed plausible to those who were angry; for they claimed they were acting with faithful zeal toward the Emperors, both the father and the son, the former of whom they ^D considered to have perished prematurely through the magic of those men, and to have been unjustly removed from the empire by the bold violence of him who raised himself above a private station and hungered for the kingdom, meanwhile treating the age of the young Augustus with contempt and preparing the authority for himself under honest pretexts.

But as for the foreign Italians, who were subject to the personal command of the great constable, these reasons, besides others, were more vehement causes of hatred and meditated attack: because they remembered that by the Muzalones, and especially by the eldest among them, they had been deprived of the gifts and stipends promised to them by the Emperor while he was still alive, because they were disparaged in matters where they claimed they ought justly to be honored, because they were excluded from access to and favor with the Emperor by his suggestions, and because they were visited with insults and indignities by the order of the protovestiarius. Provoked by these and similar things, that fair-haired and bellicose race was ready to slaughter them, if one would only push them a little. It was also bruited about in the speech of many that the commander of that Italian phalanx had shared not a small part of this guilt, inasmuch as he had incited his men—who were always inclined to such slaughter, and at that time, enflamed by the new opportunity, were loosed from fear and eager to perpetrate the dire deed—to dare to break out in the way they had destined. Which rumor, from the things that followed, becomes probable: for they would not have dared so much, had they not relied on leaders and been stirred by suitable persuasions, being foreigners and for the most part newcomers; in which state of affairs, if men think to offer violence, it is utterly necessary to suspect that they were moved to do so by the instigation of someone.

19. How the murder was dared by the army even while the emperor was not appearing, and how they brought charges against the Muzalones.

^A Now the ninth day from the passing of the emperor had arrived, on which it was customary to hold his memorial. Therefore, all the clergy who were present there went up to the monastery of Sosandra, where the body of the emperor had been buried beside his father. All those who held office also went up, and besides them, the noble ladies, and all the household staff of the masters. The military, however, had been left below, by design, more in the vicinity of the emperor.

So when the Muzalones went up with their whole households, manifesting a private affection for the deceased above the others, the military, and especially the Italian and foreign units, seized the opportunity. Some, eager to defend themselves against those who had offended them, and others, taking pleasure in the acts—if those [ Muzalones] should dare them (for men always rejoice in innovations, and it is easier for one seeing a new evil come to pass to take delight in those who suffer it than to rejoice with those who enjoy a good)—mingling with the crowd, began to raise terrible cries from below to above, indicating the supposedly faithless ones, the Muzalones, while appearing to show a warm zeal for him and his family. ^B And, so that they might not come forward and do something before suffering, they pretended to be fearful and hastened the emperor’s concession against them, declaring at the same time: "If the emperor should allow it; if not, then they will rush forth and do away with them regardless."

While they were saying these things and clamoring at the same time, those entrusted with the emperor's guard—whether the outrage had been declared to them as well, or whether they were afraid at the very time of the clamor—immediately brought out the boy, hoping by his presence to create a sense of compunction that would cause the crowd to reveal the one who was ruler. But when the young man was revealed, the shouting grew even louder and they clamored in greater disorder, while those around him signaled for them to gesture with their hand. ^C This was a gesture that struck both ways and served a double purpose: both that it might restrain the tumult and that it might still yield his consent. For those around the young ruler, the gesture of the hand was left behind as a sufficient apology to the powerful later on, as if they were supposedly managing the situation to restrain the tumult, while to the others it was deemed quite sufficient for ^D the license to act as they wished. Immediately, therefore, a cry was raised...

as if ^A someone were withdrawing, and they were very zealously urging this. Those who were concerned for the Emperor were rushing together in a great crowd, and each one joined in, as an avenger of the Emperor’s safety, even going so far as to risk their own lives if it were necessary. Restraining one another in the confusion, they rushed toward the monastery of the Sosandri, intending, as they themselves said, to inflict the extreme of evils upon those who were hostile to the imperial authority. There were some who remained behind and did not go along, acting more out of foresight than boldness, intending, if they learned that those against whom they had conspired had been removed, to act more audaciously at the tents to carry off the treasures—for there would be no one to stop them once the owners had perished. When, therefore, some of them had arrived and stood inside the temple while the hymnody was being performed, and others were rushing along in a tumultuous crowd contrary to custom—and were already ^B visible to those inside, moving straight toward the monastery—some of the attendants who were outside suspected their uproar, fearing that they might even commit some of the forbidden acts, being almost beyond control, and at the same time suspecting a revolution, they made it known to those inside with pale faces. The latter with haste reported the matter to their masters, and earnestly suggested that the doors of the monastery seemed to be closed to those arriving—not even having a way to conjecture from where those who were rushing together were coming for their own ruin; at first they assumed that they were also coming for those communal rites. But when they went out again and, as the crowd drew nearer, suspected all the more the tumultuous and disorderly nature of it, they were even more struck with fear and reported what was happening with haste, and following them others came running, and others again; for there was no one at that time watching who did not believe that their arrival was for the greatest evil. Whence many, fearing for themselves because of those unfavorable suspicions, hid themselves elsewhere. But those who cared for the Muzalones more than anyone else approached them again, with disordered custom and countenance, reminded them of the entry of the men, and said that they must take care to seize their impetus in advance by barring the gates, lest they arrive and force their way in; for they said that such a great tumult could not be for any good, but would end in some evil. The others, however, did not listen at all to those who were voicing their fears; for fate, I suppose, was leading them, and the saying is true, that the Divine takes away the wits of those whom it intends to destroy. Moreover, not even the grandees who were present cared to hear ^C what was being done, or whether, by some foreknowledge of what was to come, they did not believe it concerned them. But they were all the more urgent that the doors of the temple should be closed to those coming; and they insisted with the greatest fervor that this be taken care of immediately. But those who heard them were neglectful, alleging as a reason that no suitable conjecture made it likely that this movement concerned any danger to them: for they imagined that that crowd was motivated by religion or by the desire to honor the deceased Emperor, and that they sought nothing more than to watch or to make more frequent the funeral panegyric of the late Augustus. But as those who had reported these things went out again and, as the crowd came nearer, sensed from close by the more terrible roar of the raging multitude, they were all the more struck with fear and repeated the report of the growing evil, announcing what they had learned more recently. This was soon confirmed by others who came in breathless haste, one after another. For by now, to anyone possessing their senses, there was no doubt that this fanatical onslaught would end in a tragic outcome. Wherefore many, fearing privately for themselves, hid themselves in various places, warned by the signs of the encroaching evil. But those who cared more for the Muzalones than for others, approaching them again with trepidation and troubled countenances, reported the assault of the armed men who were rushing in, and strongly entreated them to command that barriers be placed against the furious men at the gates and that the temple be closed immediately, as they were on the point of bursting in, if it remained open; for such a great tumult portended nothing good. They were telling this to deaf ears. They remained in the utmost danger, rashly secure. For a fatal blindness—I believe—was driving them toward their predestined misfortune. It is true, ^D indeed, what is commonly said, that whom God wishes to destroy, He first deprives of their mind. But neither did the grandees who were present seem to care much about what was being reported, whether by some foreknowledge of the events, or because they did not imagine it concerned them.

^A However, in the meantime, the incoming attackers seized and occupied the entrances, and immediately upon their entry within there was a great tumult, and it was clear from their actions and threats that they were intent on murder before they had even entered the shrine. Now the protovestiarios had a familiar grammarian, Theophylactus by name, my kinsman, who was in every respect like his master. When he went out to learn what was happening, the attackers were deceived by the likeness, ^B further aided by the fact that the mourning attire was the same for both high and low on account of the emperor’s death; assuming him to be the one they were seeking, they immediately slew him with countless blades. For there was not one among them who did not moisten his weapon in the man, even though he was already dead. And as I heard from one who was there, they even tasted the blood of the slain man in their mad frenzy. But they soon knew they had been deceived; for the black shoe that became visible on the foot of the dead man betrayed the manifest ignorance of those who had performed the deed. ^C And straightway, with the greatest possible madness and uproar, they burst into the temple with swords drawn. Immediately, when those murderers appeared, the sacred chant fell silent, the singers being scattered here and there and slipping into corners or wherever they hoped to be saved. The Muzalones: one ran into the sanctuary and, hiding himself under the mystic altar, thought he would be safe there; another, insinuating himself behind the church door, pulled it toward him with the greatest force and clamped it as tightly as he could against the opposite wall, so that the doors seemed to be joined together without any obstacle, excluding any suspicion that the space was large enough to conceal a human body. ^D The kinsman of those men—for he too, just as he had shared in their prosperity, was also destined to be a partner in their calamity—crept off to another place, near the imperial monuments, striving to lie hidden as best he could. The protovestiarios, however, having also entered into the sanctuary of the temple, and having come to the apse of the prothesis, climbed onto a certain column-like structure standing there and took refuge in the darkness of that place with the sanctuary, though he had no confidence in it. But there was no place for any of them to escape the danger. For the attackers were very numerous, and while they made others flee—each of them running for his own life—it happened that even the magistrates who were present had nothing to do. In their exceeding boldness and arrogance, they leaped about in a Bacchic and manic frenzy, searching meticulously and leaving no part of the temple unexamined. Consequently, as they found and seized one another, they put them to death cruelly in whatever manner they willed, while others meanwhile did not cease in their violence; for the many bystanders would surround each one of those captured, striking them, beating them, and mangling them, continuing their rage even against the lifeless corpse, so that the one body was cut into many pieces and scattered far and wide. Such madness pursued them, and they were driven to such a pitch of insane anger that, beyond what is human [next page begins]

^A they appeared as enraged wild beasts to those in power. A certain Carolus, however, having dared to penetrate into the inner sanctum in search of the protovestiarios, and having thoroughly searched many places, was about to turn back, having given up hope of finding him. But fate did not allow even him to escape the tragedy; for, having entered the inner chamber and cast his eyes here and there, he saw that most wretched man crouched down on his knees, and seeing him, he rushed to cut him down pitilessly. He [the protovestiarios] sought to stir his compassion, offering to ransom his life for a great sum, but the man was moved neither by the appearance of supplication nor was he softened by the promises made; instead, he immediately seized him and killed him with a dagger. ^B And when the deed became known, there was no one who did not rush to the spot; rather, each one standing over him, as they were, struck him and mutilated him with insults, and they hacked him to pieces to such an extent that those who later wished to bury him had to gather his mangled and severed limbs into a sack so that they could carry them out for burial. When this crime had finally been perpetrated by those savage men, they gnashed their teeth like boars, so that no one, even among the officials or magistrates, dared to stand near them, much less to rebuke them or ask what they had suffered and by whose instigation they were doing such things. They immediately rushed to the tents of those who had been murdered, and whatever each one happened to come across, they carried off with such secure audacity and laughter, as if nothing unusual had happened, all with the accusation frequently upon their lips: "The enemies and traitors of the emperors, ^C attempting to seize the principate, and in every way—had they not been prevented—about to arrive at tyranny, the detestable oppressors of the military order, who by the clandestine malice of magical arts had attacked the father, the Augustus, and who were plotting against the orphan son under the guise of guardianship and the provision of security, have paid the penalty as was fitting, and it has been done justly and deservedly as it ought! So that with a faithful and devoted mind we may alacritously serve the Lord, now that we are freed from the dire tyranny of the wicked!" They were saying these things, ^D and at the same time they were plundering their goods with impunity as if from the house of Mysians, carrying off the rich treasures from the full house of the Muzalones. These things were done in this manner, as no one thought himself to have as much authority or strength as was needed to restrain the fury of the unbridled multitude or to oppose the victors over the laws and the empire—some truly fearing, and others feigning fear. The proof of this is that when the wife of the protovestiarios was present there, seeing and lamenting such things and speaking as was appropriate, the great conostaulos, her uncle, severely rebuked her and ordered her to be silent, fearing that she might suffer the same things as her husband if she continued to provoke those raging men with her words. Therefore, with everyone in the pillaged house—masters and servants alike—restrained by the same fear, and with each one counting it as profit if he escaped safely, they finally departed from there, not caring at all where they were being carried, as if fleeing in no order; and they placed an even stronger guard than before over the emperor/prince, lest any new disturbance should arise from him. Thus, with everyone in confusion, each one was taking the most diligent care he could for his own safety and security.

^A

At that time, Caryanites, the protovestiarios—a man already of mature age, venerable, and of the greatest merit—fled that very night with his household and kin to the Persians, not because he was angry at the emperor, but because he feared for himself due to the confusion of affairs. For whether those who had attempted the initial sedition had acted on their own initiative without anyone prompting them—and one might reasonably fear they would attempt the same things again with impunity, at the greatest risk to those holding offices, upon whom a heavy envy fell—or whether others had egged them on, prompting them to move against the forces again, it was rightly feared by many, and especially by those in power, upon whom a great and terrible envy was creeping. Some, therefore, for these reasons, drove straight for Persia at full speed; others withdrew elsewhere, fearing the greatest dangers; while others still kept themselves as safe as they could. The Great Conostaulus, however, stationed his brothers—young men, yet prudent—the first of whom was named John, and the second after him Constantine, neither of whom had yet been honored with offices, as guards appropriate for himself. From then on, they frequented the emperor more often and spent the days with him, and frequently even passed the nights. They showed their goodwill and fidelity toward him—and even more so, vying with each other—in a manner that was manifest and at its peak. ^B [P 37]

XXI. How the nobles contended over the guardianship of the emperor.

Yet they also contended and began to quarrel among themselves. This contention arose from their ambition, for they were at odds with one another concerning the care of the emperor, as each of those in high position could not bear to be subordinated to his peers. For there were, on one side, the Tzamanturi of the house of the Lascarids, adorned by age and by prudence; and, moreover, their kinship and "grandfatherly" connection to the young emperor gave them much freedom to seek such things. ^C On the other side were those of the Tarchaneiotes line, the first of whom was the Great Primikerios. These men, indeed, also had a strong claim to the disputed guardianship, derived from their father’s intimate and fraternal relationship by letter to the young emperor’s grandfather, the Emperor John Ducas. From there, too, came the Strategopouloi, of which family Alexius was the most illustrious, who carried with him much awe, as he was respected by all for his great achievements and, furthermore, had performed many successful deeds. His son, Constantine, a kinsman of the Emperor John by marriage to his niece, having distinguished himself through excellence, was later deprived of his eyes during the brief reign of Theodore Lascaris—the cause being, it was said, that he acted too proudly toward the ruler, behaving with arrogance toward him ^D just after he had taken up the scepter following his father's death. And there were others of the noble Raoul family, who, as we have said before, had lost their position after their father—still

young, as well as the Palaiologoi. Along with these were the Vatatzai and the Philai, whose father, Theodore, had been blinded, as had the Strategopoulos for the same reason; together with the Caballarioi were the Nostongoi and the Camyzae, as well as the Aprenoi, the Angeloi, the Libadarioi, the Tarchaniotai, the Philanthropenoi, and the noble Kantakouzenoi, and all others of whom that magnificent, golden series of noble lords was composed. ^A George Nostongos, however, was also driven by rivalry; for he was puffed up beyond the others, as he was preferred for a royal marriage. For while the emperor was still alive, he had intended to betake his daughter to him in marriage and had entrusted the plan to many others, and he would have brought the arrangement to completion had not death come upon the emperor and stood in the way of the deed. But then, encouraged again by what had been agreed, the hope of obtaining this marriage made him greatly puffed up, and he used to disparage the others, and especially his own first cousin, who was the Grand Conostaulos, competing intensely against him. Hence, he would dwell freely in the royal courtyards, and for the sake of pleasure during the leisure hours, he would join the leading men as they rode, or engaged in breaking spears, or even in the sphere-game that was customary among them; with great boldness he would ride and play alongside them, showing off while the royal ladies stood nearby watching.

[KB'.] How the role of guardian of the emperor was entrusted to Palaiologos.

Meanwhile, since it was not safe for the boy-emperor to remain without a guardian—known as he was to be in delicate and tender age—the officials gathered together and reasoned that it was not secure to settle such matters without the Church and him who presided over it (and this was ^B Arsenios). Thus, they dispatched a messenger to the patriarch—who was then at Autoreianos near Nicaea—summoning him with all speed. While they themselves deliberated in the meantime, one favoring one man ^C for the guardianship of the emperor, another another, their common counsel finally converged on the aforementioned Palaiologos, as he alone among the others appeared sufficient for this task. For if anyone was, he was the most strategic of men; and thirdly, he possessed the requisite nobility from ancient times, and also the family connection to the reigning emperor, both directly and through his wife (for he was the second first-cousin, and on the other side the son of a second first-cousin), which gave him much greater claim to the guardianship of the emperor than the others. But while these were his just claims for being preferred over the others, and those who spoke on his behalf put these forward, it is also reasonable to suppose that he himself was ^D maneuvering the matter

^A variously, stealing the hearts of not a few with good promises, and more especially of those who had previously happened to fall from their offices due to the difficulty of the times. [P 39]. He for his part, not delaying to undertake the responsibility, consented, being poor and having nothing with which to live in a style more honorable than the measure of his rank; but so that he might not appear to those granting the favor to be accepting it with such readiness, nor yet to be declining it as if he were being burdened by a load, he sought the consent of the patriarch, who was soon to be installed—not more by necessity, but in order that what was being done might be established more securely. Furthermore, he demanded that the higher dignities of the guardianship over the emperor be added to him also.

XXIII. How Palaiologos was honored as Grand Duke.

They, for their part, desired that the authority of those resolutions of theirs should be no less than that which came from the Church, yet not so that they themselves would be compelled, through what had been decided for them, to change their minds; but they confessed that it was reasonable for the emperor’s guardian to be advanced to a higher degree of rank, and in some way or other, for this reason, the majority agreed upon it. And the controller of imperial affairs was transferred to the position of Grand Duke, being proclaimed nominally as the emperor’s [guardian], and being toward the cares of the common ^B good, and, by inescapable command, also co-operating with those in authority to follow these things through. And in some way, because of these inevitable needs of the imperial treasury, he applied himself to it. For there was a quantity of money stored up in Magnesia, not easily measurable, gathered and deposited by John Doukas, the emperor. For the other money, gathered separately by that son of his, Theodore Laskaris, sufficient in bulk for the empire, was safely stored in the fortress on the upper Skamandros, which is called, by a diminutive corruption, Astytzion. However, these were not spoils or unjust collection, nor was it the lives of men and the blood of the poor, no less than gold, but rather [it was] wealth gathered and increased from the care of his own affairs and from the offerings brought in from the property of others; for he collected some from agriculture, and the rest from foreign trade. Yet [they were] not stored away so as to be shared by no one, but, with the necessary [funds] for payments, for salaries, and for outlays excepted—and even more for the honors bestowed upon prominent men and for the support of the poor—so as to flow out like the flooding of perennial rivers, ^C all ordering them to those that ask, so that all might have [what they need] and no one be in want, the common [good] being shared and ^D the rest Palaiologos, as Grand Duke and guardian of the emperor, was in charge of the cares of the public sphere, and at the command of the one who provided [it], he conducted these matters alongside those in authority. And it happened that out of necessary need he reached into the imperial treasuries. For there was a multitude of money deposited in Magnesia, not easily to be counted, collected and stored by John Doukas, the emperor. For the other money which had been gathered separately by that son of his, Theodore Laskaris, was kept securely in the fortress on the upper Skamander, which is called by a diminutive term Astytzion, or "little city," being of a bulk sufficient for the needs of the empire. Moreover, these sums had not been accumulated from robberies and iniquitous extortions, nor were these treasures of a kind that one could justly say were accumulated from the lives of men and the blood of the poor; but they were riches acquired from temperate thrift, the fruit of domestic prudence gathered from the revenues of estates or from the just exchange of trade with foreign lands, a harmless kind of income, having nothing mixed in of odious exaction from others’ property. Nor, furthermore, was it held there by greedy custody, grudging necessary uses to the needy, but it was spent without stint when there was need, in donatives, stipends, and similar expenses, especially in munificent largesses by which, either to distinguished men for great labors and glorious deeds, a reward was counted out, or to the needy crowd, the means to live was provided, so that from these, as from fountains of royal mercy, into the public happiness they perennially [flowed].

And that which remained from these expenses was carefully conserved. For that which was in olden times said concerning Cyrus and Darius, held true of these princes also in every respect. And indeed, John was called the father of the Romans, while Theodore was named lord. ^A For John managed all things with such provident care that he did not even disdain, considering it quite worthy of royal dignity, to descend to the lowly management of agricultural equipment, or of animals of burden, whether for the plough or for drawing wagons; and he had appointed overseers and prefects of this kind throughout every camp and fortress, assigning to each citadel and its garrison certain villages, from which a supply of grain might not only suffice for the soldiers, but from the abundance of which the prince might have wherewith to pour forth his largesse of bounty to the many. Theodore, moreover, even if he was more effective in gathering gold from public contributions, was yet, out of a simplicity of mind not sufficiently cautious, all the more profuse in scattering it; so that, just as in the maritime tides of Euripi and Charybdis, here too there was seen a certain ^B alternate reciprocation of money flowing out and flowing back: for the losses of the treasury, exhausted by distributions, were soon repaired by an easy collection—or rather, what had been spent returned more abundantly through contributions of subjects, which, though small for each individual, yet, because of the multitude of those contributing, exceeded into very great sums; nor was the private wealth of any person exhausted thereby, as the streams of the prince's beneficence flowed far and wide to all, and in various ways nourished the home and fortune of every person with a kind of perennial course. For a large-hearted kindness was readily at hand for the needs of all, a prince more willing to give than to receive: for what else does the law of Christ prescribe, commanding one to give to everyone who asks? The blessed fruit of which is that all might abound, and no one might be in need, with the mutually useful compensation of vicissitude balancing out default, while there is One ready to repay from the public store what each one contributed from their private means, and, so that faint-hearted souls might not shrink from such commerce, God offers Himself as guarantor—a marvelous thing—promising that He will repay with multiplied usury what has been given.

24. How the Emperor John, falling ill, bestowed much upon the poor.

I wish, therefore, to narrate another thing of this nature, and I ask for pardon if, drawn by the usefulness of the argument, I indulge in digressions. The Emperor John, having recently been widowed of his excellent helper in good works, his wife—that, I say, admirable Irene, for whom words of praise as she deserves are lacking—was one day seized by an illness. The disease was indeed severe and grave, in that the case brought on seizures ^C similar to those of epilepsy, though perhaps these could more justly have been attributed to the infirmity of an already advanced age. With the physicians unsure where to turn, the sick man took refuge in God, and as much as he was able, he imitated His mercy toward all. Therefore, at his command, gold was ladled out from the treasuries in full sacks, and thirty-six coins of pure currency were divided to every one of the needy dwelling anywhere, besides those sums which were expended upon the holy temples of God, and monasteries, and men devoted to God, being sent by a liberality of that kind upon many heavily laden mules to where it was fitting. This mercy of the Augustus drew the divine [favor] upon him. Therefore, his illness first becoming lighter, he then completely recovered, ^D and with his joy and the profit of his soul,

also as he desired to apologize to the Romans, that the public funds had not been diminished by such a great flow of mercy, he brought forth that very person who had been shown mercy as a witness to the patriarch Manuel, saying that nothing had been drained from the public [treasury], but rather he had acquired these [things] by his own foresight and private industry, from which he never ceased to farm through knowledgeable men, and furthermore by taking care of the various livestock on those very estates. Thus was [his] godliness, and thus was [his] love for the Romans known.

25. How the Great Duke, by lightly handling the imperial funds, procured favor for himself.

At that time, when a large amount of money was stored at Magnesia, it was not permitted for the Great Duke and tutor of the prince to take and distribute it wherever he wished; for the Celtic axe-bearing guard stood over it, preventing anyone if they attempted [such a thing], and it was a guard for the treasuries, so that [funds] were given knowingly wherever the necessity of need demanded. But they were often given to some by his command, under the pretext of need, even when there was none. And from this he laid the foundations of favor for himself for those with whom it was not possible to forget the kindness, and [he would have been] someone who would justly apologize if he had not provided [funds] to someone, yet even so, on account of the poverty he possessed, he gave opportunities to receive [funds] in preparation for future events, as he demonstrated. Regarding his poverty, if he who writes this, being present and having heard what he said, should testify to it, he does not fear being convicted of falsehood, since that poverty was then a boast of glory for the one saying it. For he used to say that when he was emperor, the sum required for his household expenses amounted to only three [gold] coins. And he called the Angelos—who was the brother of his mother-in-law, [and] whom, having become emperor, he himself appointed Great Primicerius—being present, so that he himself might testify in his [the emperor's] favor regarding the dowry of his niece. That [man], standing near, testified, and we heard him speaking and adding an oath to what was said. Therefore, he was then currying favor with the many, and especially with those of noble birth, [and] caused [them] to enjoy the imperial funds on some reasonable pretext, he himself meanwhile conserving himself as superior to [such] gains and keeping his hands free from any greedy contact.

26. How the Great Duke showed great humility upon the arrival of the patriarch.

Meanwhile, it was heard that the patriarch was arriving with the chosen ones of the clergy and the archbishops; and upon immediately learning this, he himself, before all others, went out a great distance to meet [them], showing the greatest honor to the patriarch and the entire holy college, proceeding on foot,

as he was walking and holding the reins of the priest’s mule, ^A he even conducts him right into the palace. And indeed, he orders a royal tent to be set up for his sake, at once as a mark of honor toward him, by attending and waiting upon him in every respect, and at the same time as a necessary pretext for having the easiest access to the emperor, since the favorable opportunity granted him that same patriarch no longer be separated from the ruler for a moment. But he had willingly allowed him everything, as though he would not perform the guardianship unless he himself should order and the synod should assent. Whence, bringing the young boy into the hands of the patriarch, he acts in this way and in the midst of the others, and he makes the present situation depend upon the counsel of that man, and often he brings out and shows the treasures, silently revealing the power to be attached to him and to him alone, even if he himself should give orders, so that the others might have it from there. And it was, in fact, his wisdom to yield to him the rule of all things, while he himself, by courting the one who was leading, became able to provide things as though they were necessary; and since it was necessary that the things for the patriarch’s retinue, and especially for the archbishops, be provided from the public funds, he himself, taking them, would give them, and would further be munificent with even more—which, while ostensibly for necessary pretexts, was being done out of a desire ^B to blind the eyes of the wise with gifts and to win over their goodwill. This, in turn, produced daily great favor for him from them, and his state of honor and deference toward each of them was such that it took little to cross the distance, and he had them all in his nostrils, so to speak, and could lead them wherever he wished. For there was not one of them who would not, in favorable remembrance, speak of him in the public synod when he was absent, and who did not claim that Palaiologos should be set in authority over the others, and who did not proclaim him to be worthy of the greatest dignities and even "Father of the Emperor." These were the nightly missions and deliberations sent to them, and the pledges for the future reinforced by the greatest of compacts.

27. How those about the Grand Duke influenced the majority, and he became Despot.

For through this guile of mind and wheedling of manners, all were so captivated that when a church assembly was held, at which the hierarchs were to deliberate with those in power about the state, ^C and [[P 44]] the occasion required someone to guide the affairs, they all of the holy order spoke ^D on his behalf, even when he was not talking, saying that it was not fitting for the guardian of the empire—and such a one as he, at that—to be like the others, but to be set apart from the many with the greatest

^A dignity and imperial rank. For why, indeed, should he toil and drag the greatest fear within himself every single day, if he were to have no gain at all from having taken on such a great burden? And, moreover, the effectiveness of his command is such for him, if he is the one giving orders over the others. It is good for the guardian of the emperor to be honored with the title of despot; for in this way he will keep the matters of his goodwill unstained, considering the rank to be a worthy recompense for the one from the imperial line who is reigning. And what is strange in his being called despot, to whom even his maternal grandfather, being a despot, achieved the greatest successes against the Italians? For do we not know him to be God-beloved, as one having zeal for the good, as a lover of monks, and one who reveres the matters of the Church extraordinarily? The humility, democratic spirit, and cheerfulness toward all that reside in him bear witness to this; and his bounty and generosity will display the state of his wealth as being very poor, so that it would be fair and advantageous for the situation if, in addition to being father of the emperor, the guardian of the reigning emperor were also worthily honored. When some people proposed these things, many of the high priests assented to the words as seeming just, and it was approved by some of those in authority as well; but the others contended and set their opinions against one another ^B—those of the Laskaris Tzamantouroi, along with the sponger Georgios, who, though with difficulty, still conceded, even if unwillingly, that he should both be and be named βασιλεοπάτωρ (father of the emperor), yet insisted that the dignity of the title of Grand Duke was sufficient for the guardian. They argued that for him to be honored with an office bearing the name of the empire and with such ranks, which are better than those befitting him, might even be a transgression regarding the most important and precious things. For there are royal virgins, sisters of the emperor, who must be married to those who seem to excel; if not that, at least they themselves have a great right to be honored with such ranks along with their husbands, being by nature sisters of the emperor and βασίλισσαι (empresses) by third or even fourth imperial descent. Those around Alexios Strategopoulos and the sons of Philes, and along with them the Tornikioi and those who were blinded—who, indeed, wanted to take revenge for what they had suffered, and with them also all those who, by way of kinship or expected gain, were attached to the Palaiologoi—dragged [their view] strongly in the opposite direction, saying that it was just and otherwise advantageous for the one who is near the emperor and bears the name of father to be honored also with the title of despot. For in this way, that which had been granted to him by the

^A common consent and was otherwise useful, [is that] a man placed next to the emperor, bearing both the duty and the name of a father, should be honored with the title of despot. For it is agreed that he should be yielded to by all, since subjection to one, aside from the emperor, is marked by this title of despot. In this way, the course of public affairs will be prosperous. For who would think that one should obey a child who, by reason of his age, is not yet able to use reason? And if the one who rules in his stead is a private citizen, there will be no one who does not think it is entirely arbitrary to obey, since no force of greater authority imposes the necessity of compliance. Therefore, the passengers on a ship should be imitated; for they, although individually free and each under his own legal control, since they perceive that it is beneficial for all in common that the voyage—to the fate of which they have committed themselves—should be successful for the benefit of all, choose a helmsman and set him in charge, obeying his commands and nods with voluntary servitude; and whoever acts against his instructions pays deserved penalties, as one who has sinned most against his lord. Furthermore, they do not set him up in such a way that, having been elevated, he ^D remains thereafter of the same lot as the others, but they clothe him in a certain habit of veneration, of more distinguished authority; and so that all may revere him, they obtain this by a certain menacing character of majesty imprinted upon him. Thus, both the city and the entire empire will be rightly ordered if the one who presides truly excels above the multitude. Stronger and freer was the speech of the blind men, saying, “Do not let such an empire and so many matters be endangered for the sake of a little child.” But the present state of affairs ^B must be established into the likeness of a true empire if we wish to be saved. Or are we ignorant into what great unhappiness the Roman empire has fallen, to such an extent that the fatherland itself might be rooted out and lose the sum of its affairs, being encompassed by narrow borders? But yet, for those not to be governed according to custom, it is because they have been shipwrecked from a wonderful state of peaceful navigation. If, then, so many difficult things happened because of not being governed well to the required standard, how much is the danger of not being governed at all? As for us, fidelity to the empire is indeed considered to be something good, and it is also good to be saved while adhering to oaths; but if salvation is absent, fidelity is vain. And how would it harm the empire if to the caretaker there be added the dignity? Rather, in fact, it will contribute most things. For by putting on a venerable name, he will strengthen the authority over the actual matters for the one who rules; for with an abundance of power, he might deal with envoys, converse with the peoples, command soldiers and rulers, and establish nothing that is not as it should be, while all are filled with awe at the dignity. If, however, someone were to behave as an equal with those who are in command, he will not easily persuade others to do what he orders, as he does not reprove those who resist him from a position of superior power. ^C But would we be amazed if someone wished the Roman state to be governed in any other way than by a monarchy? Assuredly, let monarchy take the lead, even if the one holding power should be imperfect; for it will remain even so, and the custom will be preserved as it seems. And the Roman state among us will be governed by necessity. ^D

28. How the patriarch agreed with those speaking on behalf of Palaiologos.

When these words had been spoken, since the primate also threw his greatest weight ^B to those supporting Palaiologos—for he himself had long been prejudiced in favor of this man as one who would rule well, and he was also prompted by many motives to attempt something even greater. And this is evident from the fact that, when the news was brought to him in Nicaea that the emperor had died, before others had learned of it, he confided the report to one of his own intimates (this was Gemistos, who later reached the position of great oikonomos ^A in the city) when, on that occasion, a conversation had arisen between them regarding the administration of the commonwealth, the patriarch did not hesitate to declare Palaiologos the most suitable of all for that duty. [P. 47] Since, therefore, the discussion also concerned the management of affairs, he preferred Palaiologos to everyone. The patriarch, then, having been prejudiced on these points, was immediately in agreement with what was being said in favor of Palaiologos, and he voted for the title of Despot to be conferred upon him. And so, Palaiologos was transformed from Megas Doux into Despot, and the emperor, with the help of the patriarch, bestowed upon him the insignia of that dignity. From then on, both did he hold himself forth as Despot, and the multitude ^C generally recognized him as such. He sought to win the favor of the nobles with every kind of indulgence and with largesse from the public treasury, at the same time enriching the present benefits with most generous promises for the future; and thus, by the art of ambition, he prepared for himself great devotion from them. He employed the same mechanism of extravagant liberality to attach to himself the ecclesiastics, pouring out much with a lavish hand, both openly and in secret. For besides what was accustomed to be given to them from the public purse, which he bestowed openly and liberally, he also sent gifts to them by night, meanwhile whispering and smoothly insinuating that he was not yet sufficiently guarded for his own security, nor would he be in safety until he was proclaimed a partner in the empire and a colleague of the Augustus. To persuade them of this, he cited the fear of the dangers hanging over him, and he called to mind the case of the Muzalones, as having similarly perished in their case through envy, and ^D he demonstrated the danger of suspicion, as he himself...

^A when entrusted with another would be wary of many, and would not have the occupation of a guard, fearing for himself mostly. For it is better for everyone to be a guard than to be in need of a guard.

And he would take hold of the greater. For he argued that he alone, after the one who was of the lineage of the emperor, was worthy to rule and to be with him, and that it was necessary for those who had a full-grown emperor to determine what he should do. On the one hand, to wait for the age of the minor, lest someone in need of guardianship should arrive and become an obstacle before he who would fare well should reach a mature age; and on the other hand, for him who was at the head of affairs as guardian not to act as emperor, lest the favor be unstable and fickle. Those who were in power said these things, and they were persuading the patriarch, whose heart was being softened; for neither was he neglectful of the duties whereby the holy synod might be mollified. The day was therefore set for the proclamation, and it was the new moon of Hecatombaion, of the second indiction then current.

29. How Palaiologos, by making many suspicious, demanded [through them] also the greater thing.

While proposing these and such like things, he was insistent, and was demanding the greater thing. Indeed, those whom he held in suspicion, both those who were displeased with the present state of things and those who might have stood in the way of the future, having taken power from this and possessing the greatest authority, he put out of the way; some withdrawing voluntarily ^B and living by themselves, and others he himself imprisoned; and others he sent away to other places, and Tzamantouros he sent into exile to Prousa and established a guard over him as if he were a convict. Those, however, who were attached to him were greatly in bright hopes and were openly assisting in what they could. Furthermore, they bestowed upon one of the brothers, John, the dignity of Grand Domestic, which was supposedly from the emperor, making him conspicuous and one who had great power in affairs. Then, therefore, being warmed by even greater hopes, having gone to the patriarch and the synod, they were saying that they would not cease unless the Despot was raised to the next rank.

30. How the Despot of the West, Michael, was raised by new hopes of affairs.

In the meantime, the Despot of the West, Michael, the nephew of the former emperor Theodore, having heard how matters in the East were, and that with Laskaris removed from the way, John, his son, was still but a young child, while the Roman Empire lay open to any who wished to seize it as prey, turned his mind toward his uncle Theodore, considering how he too, being noble...

^A and of the line of the Angeli, and furthermore supported by most powerful affinities, might seize power. For among his daughters, he had as sons-in-law Manfred, king of Apulia, the brother of the Empress Anna, whom the Emperor John—already advanced in age—had taken to wife; and from his other daughter, Anna, he had the Prince of Achaia, William, as his son-in-law.

Through envoys sent to him, he had secured from Manfred three thousand picked men from among the Germans—brave warriors, whom they call *caballarii*—and he had brought over the Prince himself, with all his forces, as an ally in the expedition. He also had his illegitimate son, John, with significant auxiliary forces from the people over whom he held command. He had once married the daughter of the Taronas, a ruler of a populous nation, who had excellent forces under his banners and was exceptionally skilled in the art of war; he was, even by himself, sufficient for the undertaking of any great military task and for joining to his own dominion lands held by another. Indeed, he led an army composed of that people subject to him, who long ago had fought under the Greek race and name led by their emperor Achilles—they were now called the Megaloblachites.

Supported by the forces of that tribe, he was so powerful that, on his own, he was able to restrain the three enemy commanders—the Grand Domestic John Palaiologos, Alexios Strategopoulos, and John Raoul—from venturing past Beroea, even though they had numerous troops around them. The Despot, therefore, having gathered these men together, and having added to them as many of his own as he could possibly raise, first thought to do battle in line of formation against the enemy commanders, then, having vanquished them as he hoped, to proceed to attack Thessalonica and lay waste the western regions with raids, and even to attempt Constantinople itself. He had all the more opportunity for this, because, since Manfred had received a spirit of contumacy and rebellion against the Church from his father Frederick as if it were a hereditary trait, the Germans—whom the Despot had sent as auxiliaries, having been trained in previous Italian wars—were not at all disturbed by the proposal of besieging the city, as it was defended by the Italians, against whom they had long grown accustomed to fight as a race of enemies. Nor did the Prince go along unwillingly, as the regions subject to his rule—namely, all of Achaia and the Morea—stood in fear of the proximity of the Italians who held sway in the city. When, therefore, so many forces had gathered in one place and were now preparing themselves for battle (for the opposing commanders themselves, having heard of so many Italian troops ^B and having been the first to clash with them, ^C as the account goes, were turning their minds toward attacking Thessalonica and the western regions and even attempting the city of Constantinople itself; indeed, this happened to fall out favorably for him for the reason that Manfred possessed from his father Frederick, as a sort of inheritance, an apostasy from the Church, so that it was not strange for the Germans to fight against the Italians in the city. And the Prince was also on his own account interested in the whole of Achaia and the Morea. Since ^D therefore... the forces had gathered to the same place and were already approaching the city...

preparing for battle (for neither could the generals remain quiet, having learned that the Italian force was assembled, but they themselves also were making preparations elsewhere), so that, as they were ^A on the point of engaging, they were about to strike, that fabled Eris, she who cast the apple between the three goddesses out of rivalry over beauty, fell upon these men as well. And the cause was very nearly similar.

31. How the Prince of Achaia was captured by the Romans.

For it is said that certain of the grandees around the Prince—whom they call *caballarii*—cast eyes of desire upon the wife of Duke John, who, as the account showed, was also the daughter of Taronas. This was, in fact, an obvious insult and contempt toward her husband, and indeed, suffering from this affront, he did terrible things and threatened to retaliate against those who had insulted him. There was discord on both sides, which grew into war, and those who had been called to join forces stood against one another. It is said that the Prince himself, observing this, was indignant; he did not reproach his own men, but he mocked the Duke most severely, and quite brilliantly reproached his origins, as being illegitimate. And when he said, pointing to Nicephorus, “my brother,” the Prince replied with a raised voice, fixing him with a scornful eye: “You indeed are base-born and not free, nor do you merit, as a slave, to aspire to such right.” Having spoken these words with gravity, John—a second Achilles—was angered no less than that one of old, at the taunts of Agamemnon, and he burned with a wrath no less mindful and disastrous in its outcome.

Wishing to show that he was the whole strength of the army, and that whichever side he joined, they would be the victors, he sent letters by secret nocturnal courier to the generals, signifying that he would be with them and would attack the Italians by his side—men who were soft and effeminate—if they were only to make their move. He secured, however, oaths from them, keeping his word to those around his father and his brother Nicephorus, so that they would keep them safe and unharmed, while attacking the rest of the Italians, and especially those of the Prince. Having agreed upon this, and having exchanged holy amulets for their oaths, a great battle broke out—on one side, the Romans with the Persians and a great mass of Scythians, and on the other, the Prince’s Italians. For having threatened his father and brother with the terrors that would befall them from those around him, he caused them to be sluggish for the battle, and not only to postpone the fighting, but even to withdraw, while he himself, attacking the Italians from the rear, wrought terrible slaughter. And then the Italians realized they had been betrayed and fled. They did not, however, escape the danger, but many were overtaken by the Scythian army, and frequently ^{B C D}

^A fell, being wounded by arrows, while others were captured by the Persians. And the prince himself at last, having slipped into a certain thicket, hoped to escape notice from there, but he did not succeed at all; for they stood over him and captured him ignobly. And a great achievement was then performed in a narrow place without sweat, a youthful gain for little labor. Then, therefore, the generals, having carried off the wonderful and great spoils, among which was the prince of Achaia himself, marched toward the east together with the army that was with them, having first fortified the places in the west as much as possible, so that they might be guarded for the most part. As they returned, then, with brilliant trophies, Strategopoulos found the situation still in instability, but he also contributed not a little to Palaiologos’s desires. The prince, however, they handed over to the guard that was present at the time, but afterwards, when the city was taken (so that these things might be told in order and the continuity of the narrative not be interrupted, even if it happened later), when the city had been taken, and two years had passed, the prince, having bowed his arrogant neck to the Emperor and for the first time seeing him as the ruler of Romania, spoke of him as one who had ^B rightfully seized the throne, and convinced himself to bow down and enter into service for a sovereign who was indeed perfect. If he wished, he could also provide ransoms for himself that were the most excellent of what he possessed, and if the city had not been in the hands of the Romans, they would not have been deemed worthy of anything; but now, to be willing to receive them and to trust, and to be sufficiently magnified by those who held them. The prince, therefore, offered these things, asking also to be called a servant forever and to have some mark from the Empire as a symbol of servitude; but the Emperor, having heard both the ransom and deemed them sufficient (for he offered cities and no small portion of his own lands in the Peloponnese as a great mark of a Despotate), and having looked also toward the future servitude of the Latin, so that from this the Romans would be magnified and also gain, decided to make a pact regarding this.

He therefore releases him from the guard, and as many of those around him as were found to have survived; for the miseries of long custody had consumed some. He honored him and treated him with the splendor that was fitting; and he drew him so close to himself that he even wished for him to become the godfather of his own child through Holy Baptism as a most certain pledge of grace reconciled in good faith. After this, they agreed to fearsome oaths, as some say, such that they lit a candle together with the aforementioned oaths and curses, the most dreadful, and made them extinguish it—a ritual which the Italians think adds the greatest efficacy and firmness to the excommunications or bans, in their own custom, hurled against anyone. Further

^A the heads of the conventions between them were these: that the prince should cede to the Romans and to the emperor, as his most secure possession and to be transferred into his dominion in perpetuity from that time, these places situated in the Peloponnese: Monemvasia, Maina, Hierakion, [and] Myzithras (but Anaplion and Argos were left in the middle as matters of controversy and doubtful jurisdiction, as was the entire tract around Cinsterna, which extends to a great length and abounds with many good things); and that he himself should forever be called a servant of the Romans and of the emperor, and should take from them an office as a sign of this servitude. In return, the emperor, having honored this man with the dignity of Great Domestic, was to dismiss him with honor, free, along with those of his men who were then found to be surviving. And so, the treaty having been made, the emperor dismissed the prince with the honor that was fitting, sending along with him those who were to receive the ransom for his liberty, about which they had agreed. The prince therefore returned home, bearing the titles of Prince of Achaia and Great Domestic of Romania, and without any delay after his return, he paid all the ransom for his redemption as he had promised. And he would have remained forever in the faith of his agreements, having been bound to the Romans by the aforementioned office of Great Domestic, had not the Pope, upon hearing the matter, been moved to anger—both of his own accord and driven to it by the prayers of the King of Apulia—since it did not seem to the interests of either of them that a prince of his parts should remain a permanent stipendiary of the Romans. ^B Thus, he dissolved that pact and held the oaths for naught, as if [made] in captivity and in inescapable bonds, and not voluntarily, as it behooved one to act. Whence also, in the time that followed, there were continuous and great wars between them and both parties; and these things happened in this way.

32.

How the Despot Michael defeats the Romans and captures the Caesar.

The Despot Michael, however, being at that moment diminished in his forces—for he had enjoyed very great assistance from the alliance of the Prince of Achaia, but had later been subjected to many losses by the Sebastokrator John Palaiologos, so that he was in very dire straits both regarding the provinces and this military force—sent envoys to Manfred, King of Apulia, who was also his son-in-law (having married his daughter). Having received a very large auxiliary force, he handed the troops over to his son Nikephoros, who was strenuously contributing his wealth and effort to the same goal. He, having engaged the followers of the Caesar near Tricoryphum and having joined a terrible battle, caused a great many of the Nicaeans to fall, and, having killed many others and surrounded some, he captured the Caesar himself. As for the Caesar, when peace was soon made, he was released and did things in the city which we shall presently recount. Later, however, having again taken up arms with the Westerners and attacked, he was again captured by the Despot Michael and sent to Manfred, King of Apulia, and was given into custody by him; but after some time, he was exchanged for the Lady Anna, who was the sister of Manfred. But we shall recount these things in their proper places.

1. How the Patriarch Arsenius was concerned about the Empire

^A 90 Now for the Patriarch Arsenius, the beginning of new anxieties was brought about by the great and inescapable necessity of elevating Palaeologus to the empire. For except for a few, whose votes were overwhelmed by the multitude of those who thought otherwise, all were in full agreement, with a single desire and purpose to serve Palaeologus as emperor. For they generally praised as the best form of rule that which did not entrust the choice of a prince to the prerogative of birth, and thus leave it to the judgment of chance, by whose rash and blind rolling of the dice not only is an unworthy person sometimes set in authority, but often the very worst of men creep into the highest positions—men whom, were a grave and accurate scrutiny conducted, one would scarcely permit into the lowest rank of subjects. The safest method of selection, therefore, is that where the life and character of the one to be promoted are subjected to the examination of those over whom he is to preside: for this plan is equally useful to the people and to the princes themselves, as through it they understand why and to what duty they are called. For we would never call a physician deemed worthy to treat the sick merely by birth or fortune; and if we were to select a pilot for a ship based on his noble birth, we would be imposing on the vessel a person more likely to sink it than a capable captain. Furthermore, the risk is that those born into the kingdom might be the most inept at grasping the training, discipline, and art of administering the commonwealth correctly, since they are nourished in the bosom of luxuries and are constantly besieged by the plagues of the state—the swarms of flatterers—who so corrupt them that, excluded from the sense of truth by their enticements, they are unable to grasp any judgment of what is right and fair, nor the character of a moderate government. This is especially true when those who surround their sides and waylay their ears are constant companions, prepared to speak everything for favor, and who, as the old saying goes, embellish all the worst things with the names of the most beautiful, their minds having been trained to tolerate and believe such things by habit, to such an extent that they even gladly listen to the voices of the lowest dregs of men, who gabble most cunningly about even the cough of an ailing prince, as if they were composing a melody. If any wise person dares to intervene, or to declare what is true and just, he is immediately denounced as a man of the worst character, meditated upon for sedition; for to those who rule in this way, there is, in the place of every warning, an absolute and most free license to command anything they wish, while meanwhile even those who bear these things with annoyance are forced to join in with the flatterers, and beyond all measure to pronounce the greatest encomia to the prince, by which his pride is inflated more and more. And princes of this kind, putting on different masks for themselves as if on a stage, think that the brilliance of their royal birth is abundantly sufficient to rule well, as though the very seeds of those born in the purple carried with them some secret, primitive power, a necessary gift for governing excellently. Speaking these things, they were burning with an impatient urgency to see the true master of affairs and one worthy of the crown, believing themselves to have obtained their wishes, seeing that they were subjects to a prince of the form they had described. He also, whom they designated with these words, Palaeologus, ^B was likewise prepared from that point on to say the same things, and we shall provide attention to the ship. For in this way, he who is in need of purification, or rather training, in order to rule well, is in the greatest danger of being unclean—he who has been taken up from birth into royal luxuries and extravagances, with flattery lying in wait and truth banished far away, and where, as the old saying has it, the worst things are called by the names of the best. Where also even the rhythmical coughing of the flatterers had to be listened to by those who at once were ruling and were being afflicted by it; and if anyone whispered a word of admonition, he was slandered as ill-intentioned and a wicked man, as if they had commanded that the warning be silenced. But even those who were annoyed by what was happening were nonetheless forced to flatter, exaggerating the ruler beyond measure, and further increasing his arrogance. But they, as if putting on different masks on a stage, think that their birth is a sufficient guarantee for ruling well, as if in the first sowing of the seeds there were some royal powers for excellent leadership latent within. saying these things, they pressed more urgently to see the master and the crowned one, and they ceased not to press him continually. [P. 58] For Palaeologus, too, had been prepared from that time to say the same things, and

added that, if he were perchance to rule and had a son not endowed with the gifts and skills appropriate for good governance, he would voluntarily abdicate and reduce him to the common rank. To these things he added magnificent promises of what he would accomplish if he were declared emperor, things praised and desired by all: he would exalt the Church to the highest pinnacle, and would honor the sacred ministers most exquisitely. Moreover, he would bestow magistracies and prefectures only upon worthy men of the first rank. He promised to take charge of the courts, so that they might function justly and without calumny, and to appoint men as prefects who were tenacious of equity and inflexible toward favor. He gave a specimen and as it were a pledge of this matter even now in the case of a certain judge, at that time most renowned and the foremost of all, a man most learned and well-versed in the law, but infamous for injustice, whence the public called him "Evil Michael" and "Sennacherib." Him, he curbed for the future under the appearance of honor: reviving the dignity of "first of the secretaries"—which had previously been extinguished—he handed it to him, so placing under him many upright men as assessors, who would judge by secret ballots, so that, without respect of persons or any regard for or shame of any human, they would decree what was just. ^B He promised also that he would cultivate the learned and prefer them to all others. In addition to these things, he promised extreme care for the military order: paying stipends daily and presenting donatives, and—for those who had fallen in war and poured out their lives in service to the republic—paying back to their children, if they had left any, the rewards owed to their father. He would be so diligent in this that, if the wife of a slain soldier were pregnant, he would provide for the fetus conceived in her and ensure that the honoraria of the deceased parent were preserved for it. He would not allow the very name of unjust exactions to be heard, nor give any room for calumnies; hence, since the duel previously conducted for their repulsion was now inactive—as it was a matter of the greatest danger if any of those powerful and in office should be forced to hold the red-hot iron—no one proved his innocence by the contact of red-hot iron, as everyone knew full well that a great and most grave danger hung over him, if he but winked so much as to allow anyone to be driven to the testing of the red-hot mass. He promised, further, the highest security of public peace, through which even the poor and those formerly in need would now abound so much that they would not lack the means to show off their wealth and to adorn themselves and their households with domestic plenty, being entirely free from all fear. Above all, he would show himself most obedient to the Church, as is fitting, and would treat her as a mother, and would leave nothing undone that might seem conducive to preserving her standing and peace. As for this, in order to show his religion more abundantly, he was encouraged by the hope of a comparison being instituted by the people between his own deeds and the contrary examples of the recently deceased emperor, about whom he knew the suspicion had become prevalent that he did not value the authority of the Church greatly, and that he exalted himself over her with royal arrogance. Whence it had also happened during his reign that many offenses and causes of sorrow were offered to the patriarch, ^C so that he no longer dared to undertake the patronage of the people, nor to interpose himself as a supplicant in the sufferings of the wretched, since he had no hope of being heard, however just things he might say. Then, therefore, the patriarch and those of the prelates who had foresight for the future were distracted by thoughts mutually opposed and powerfully running into contraries on both sides. For whenever they considered the good state of the empire, it seemed to them and to the people salutary that the republic should be administered by the name and authority of both princes joined together; that the one, a ward, should be educated with due care until he reached perfect age, and that the other, in his own right and vigorous, should manage affairs by his own labor and counsel. Yet again, when they extended their mind to provisions for the future, there occurred to them how much good might be expected from the rule

of the one who was acting, ^A as well as how excellent it was to perform well for the subject. Together with this, they discerned that it was also a salvation for the subject. Further, regarding the successes that would follow, at once from the sufficient assurance they long had about the man, and also from what they heard him promising at the time, they were disposed to accept and support all that was intended to be done according to his plan. But whenever, on the other hand, they thought upon the uncontentious and peaceable nature of a single ruler, and the factious and warlike nature of having two, as well as the mutual plots and suspicions of each against the other, and finally the danger to the one who prevailed—they would disagree and argue against it. For the imperial office, they reasoned, was in any case a coveted thing and worthy of all, yet otherwise it was also suspect, such that even if there were no evil present, it might conjure up an image of it on account of the suspicion, and so compel the one who was in authority to act as though it were there, so that he might alone reign safely—even if he were pursuing what was not there. And if anyone should flinch at this, fearing to be thought by some to be attacking the monarchy unjustly, there would certainly occur to him a clever and ancient saying from tragedy which removes the blame for injustice from the one who is anxious for glory, saying, if one must do wrong, it is for the sake of tyranny, ^B that it is the best [reason] to do wrong.

2. How they released Paleologus from the curses to which he was subject.

They were ready to remove whatever seemed to stand in the way of the actions being carried out, out of a desire for these things to come to pass. For just as the agreements that had been made by Paleologus with the grandfather of the emperor, and the confirmations by excommunications—swearing that he would not plot anything against the imperial line—were set before them, the assembly of the archpriests tore apart those agreements like a spider’s web. For they claimed that such was not the most wicked counsel against the one reigning, but rather a cooperation with the empire and its unbroken preservation, according to the time in which the rule was shared with the young man. Nevertheless, they considered, ^C if it were not so, nothing would be... ^D [P. 60] They were readily willing to remove that which appeared to stand in the way of what was being done, through a desire that these things might come to pass. For just as the agreements previously made by Paleologus with the grandfather of the emperor, and the confirmations thereof by excommunications, swearing that he would not plot anything against the imperial line, were set before them, the assembly of the archpriests tore apart those agreements like a spider's web. For they claimed that such was not the most wicked counsel against the one reigning, but rather a cooperation with the empire and its unbroken preservation, according to the time in which the rule was shared with the young man.

2. That the prelates should release Paleologus from the oaths and curses by which he was held.

Furthermore, the sacred prelates, greatly desiring these things to be done, easily dissolved what appeared to stand in the way of their execution: for, in order that a new oath might be duly taken by Paleologus, the religion of the old oath—by which he had long ago pledged his faith by sacrament to the grandfather of the boy-emperor, not only regarding his person, but also his offspring and descendants, with added imprecations of anathemas and curses should he fail—appeared still to stand in the way. But the assembly of the prelates tore apart and rendered void all these things as if they were spiders' webs, declaring with great consensus,

^A that the fact that Palaiologos had happened to become a participant in the empire was by no means a wicked deed nor a crime contrary to his sworn faith; rather, it was a useful contribution of service to the state and for the preservation of the principality for the one to whom it belonged by right, without any hope of passing on this precarious power to his own offspring by succession. This collaboration, being wholesome at the time, was judged most opportune and necessary for the weakness of the child emperor needing such help. Therefore, with the religion of the former oath presenting no obstacle, a new oath was to be taken, having fixed and inviolable stability, since neither agreement contained anything contrary to the other that would prevent both from being valid at the same time. From this it would follow that Palaiologos would be held bound by the bonds of two agreements, sanctioned by an oath, and if he ever plotted any treachery against his young colleague, he would be guilty of double perjury. Palaiologos, admitting this, asked in turn that the young emperor also be bound by a mutual oath for his own security, with the young man also calling down upon himself curses and a ^B sentence of anathema to be incurred immediately and inevitably if he should ever contrive or do anything against Palaiologos. These things proceeded as had been agreed, with oaths taken on both sides and the whole matter duly recorded in public documents for memory and irrevocable firmness; these were written and committed to authentic registers by that "Evil" man whom we have named, who had previously been stripped of and—because of this—replaced in the office of the first secretary.

3. How the Romans swore an oath of service to both, and with what conditions.

It was also ordained that anyone, wherever they might be in the Roman Empire, should take an oath of service to both according to custom. However, there were added to the agreements, for the greater security of both, that the subject would be ready to attack with murderous hand anyone who might plot treachery against the other. For they were also swearing this along with the others, ^C out of fear, I suppose, or out of a true need for those doing these things, or so as not to bring civil wars upon the commonwealth, should this ever happen. Nevertheless, these things seemed best, and the matters resolved were proceeding into action. Therefore, they were laying on hands, and they swore upon the holy Gospels that they would indeed serve both and carry out these things.

4. How Palaiologos swore an oath regarding the child, and the nobles as well.

Meanwhile, the appointed day was at hand, which was, as has been said, the first of the month of Hekatombaion. And first, he who was being advanced to the empire swore regarding the child what was fitting and due to an emperor, though not as one who would serve, but as one who would advise him and who would plot nothing destructive through treachery. The nobles also ^D swore, both as those who would serve both and as those who would immediately avenge the one who had been plotted against, if someone else were to plot. And thus, once the oaths had been completed, he who was being prepared for the empire sat upon the royal shield, having first fitted his feet into the imperial symbols, and having been lifted by the hands of the high priests on one side and the nobles on the other, amidst imperial paeans

^A he was magnified and acclaimed by all.

5. How Palaiologos, having entered upon the empire, won over everyone with his generosity.

From that point on, the members of the senate were honored with offices according to their merits; to some, other gifts were either given or promised. His own brother John, who was then Great Domestic, he deemed worthy of the dignity of Sebastokrator, and joined him in marriage to the daughter of Constantine Tornikios, though the bestowal of the dignity was deferred to another time. His other brother, Constantine, who still remained in a private station, he intended in due time to create Caesar, and matched him likewise in marriage to the daughter of Branas, a noble woman; he acted thus wisely, binding the powerful families to himself through these marriage alliances. And in this way he magnificently won over the senators, increasing their pensions and heaping them with additional gifts, offering everyone cause for rejoicing, whether in the present enjoyment of goods conferred or in the certain expectation of those promised. ^B He also won over the army and the common people in various ways: many he assisted with daily donatives, and to those to whom something had been promised by documents sealed with gold, he fulfilled it with fidelity, thus making them secure and well-disposed for the future, as they were now certain that the subsidies and grain rations decreed for them would be available for themselves and their children for all time. The people he especially won over by opening the prisons; those who owed debts to the treasury and were unable to pay, he set free. Furthermore, he bestowed food liberally, consoled those who had suffered injustice, and punished their oppressors with condign penalties. There was much popularity in this manner of acting, for his ease of manner and most lovable kindness made the gifts, which were pleasing in themselves, appear far more grateful. For not rarely, as soon as anyone had reported some necessity of his to the prince, he would without delay place into his hand a royal document granting what was requested, from which the man would depart joyful, even if the pension were sometimes written to be paid only two years later. But if anyone, upon reading the writing, was vexed by the delay and brought back the document asking that the favor be provided immediately, he, calm and smiling, would examine the writing, and when he saw that the gift was in truth deferred to the second indiction, he would readily condemn the document as having been drawn up by a scribe who was little attentive and who had not grasped his intent, and he would order it corrected. For these and similar reasons, he poured out profusely the wealth previously stored in the royal treasury. And speaking everywhere to the crowds, with all things composed for popular favor, he would draw large sums of money with both hands from the public treasury, throwing them out most profusely, where they were most greedily collected.

6. How Palaiologos, not yet crowned, fortified the fortresses.

These things, then, were as they were. But he, thinking he would do a worthwhile thing if he fortified the fortresses, and同时 ^C simultaneously wishing to show to the peoples who had not been present for his acclamation a specimen of the supreme power entrusted to him, decided to set out for Philadelphia, having left the young colleague in Magnesia with a royal retinue, as was proper. He was followed by the entire army, surrounding the prince with every true sign of the highest benevolence, and ready for work, even where and against whom

he might lead them. Meanwhile, he sends the patriarch ahead to Nicaea, promising that he himself would follow shortly with the boy Augustus, for the purpose of receiving the royal diadem together with him in due form. Arsenius, therefore, having bid the Augusti farewell with the clergy and the prelates, set out towards Nicaea. The Emperor, having taken his forces with him and having bid his nobles farewell at his departure, set out for Philadelphia; there he applied his care to the fortifying of the citadels, sending garrisons to them, and receiving kindly those who were there, and cheering them with gifts as far as possible, and with magnificent and generous promises, sending them back well disposed to persevere in the faith of the trust committed to them, and full of the best hopes to where they had come from. Having proceeded a little from there, he surveyed everything in the circuit, and he won some over with kindly addresses, others with largesse, and some others with promises. He was able to mingle dread with clemency. Finally, he established everything there with the authority and wisdom befitting the majesty of the empire, and secured it for the future with suitable guards. For he was preoccupied with the care of Western affairs, as he did not ignore that those who were very powerful there were eager for new things, and awaited nothing but a convenient opportunity to refuse obedience and openly shake off the yoke. Hence, he also sent envoys to the Persians: partly to inform them of his accession to the empire, which was pleasing to them because of his former acquaintance and old friendship; and partly to communicate certain things to the Sultan regarding the mode and causes of the change that had recently occurred, which might avert him from fearing anything sinister therefrom to the heir of Theodore, the former emperor, whom he had known previously and even regarded as a great friend. Having completed these tasks, he returned most quickly, and having taken with him the boy John, he traveled to Nicaea with splendid apparatus and the magnificent pomp of a very numerous retinue. ^B When they arrived, without delay (for the anxiety over Western affairs did not allow time to be wasted), they immediately began to prepare for the solemn coronation. In this, the outcome showed that it had been hoped in vain by all that, just as had been agreed, the former would be adorned with the imperial diadem and the adolescent would be acclaimed Augustus, and that he would precede everyone in the triumphal procession which is accustomed to be instituted on such an occasion of the coronation of emperors, while Palaeologus and his spouse would proceed in second place after him. ^C

7. How Palaeologus violated the agreements of the coronation.

This was truly to stumble on the threshold and to stray from the very starting line through deceit and the infraction of the treaty; how steep the downward path would be from such a foul beginning, almost no one of the wise failed to perceive. But the majority of the powerful, preoccupied with benefits and suspended in hopes, kept silent: for ambitious largesses had bound the tongues of all, a very few excepted, so that they bore whatever might happen in silence. Some even, having suffered things they had not wanted from the boy’s father, tasted a certain sweetness of vengeance in the putting down of his son, by whom they thought they had been injured. Wherefore this was pleasing to them. The patriarch, however, entirely intent on hoping for what he desired, namely that the agreed-upon pacts would be ratified in the final matter, did not in these things greatly

^A scrutinize. He had shared his plan with certain of the high priests, and, arguing that it was not worthy for a child who was immature in age to receive the diadem of the empire—and that one who had already advanced in years and spent his life in affairs ought to take precedence in triumphs and acclamations—he was confident in having obtained promises that they also favored these things and, holding that justice lay with what was said, would prevail upon the patriarch to defer for the present the proclamations concerning the child, as he would be crowned at a more opportune time. It would follow from this, of course, that if he were not crowned as emperor, he would, in acclamations and all other things, be subordinate to the one who had already been crowned. But they said that the undertaking must be handled with craft, and that the matter must be moved at the very time of the ceremonies, so that the child, not perceiving what was happening, would not delay the giving of the crown and the diadem.

η'. How Palæologus was crowned and the child was disregarded.

[P. 65] These things were so, and the master of the days was at hand; all things were prepared, and the high priests, having put on the sacred vestments, were ready to perform the rites of the ceremony and were awaiting the emperors. But immediately the plan was set in motion, and there was a disturbance, some saying one thing and others another. From those of the senate, some began to threaten that they would do harm to the child ^B if the Church desired to act otherwise. Words, therefore, were exchanged, and they contended. The patriarch was in a state of helplessness and did not have anyone to whom he could turn. The day was passing, and they were unable to reach an agreement. At last, therefore, and after much contention, all the high priests, save for a few, yielded. These were: Andronicus of Sardis, Manuel of Thessalonica, byname Psaras, and Disypalus. But the one from Sardis, as soon as the patriarch’s opinion was persuaded by the majority, also yielded, with Germanus of Adrianopolis at Orestias contributing much to the submission, as well as Gregory of Ancyra and Constantine of Melangia. But Nicephorus of Ephesus, being a pious and honorable man, did not suspect what was being undermined, as he lived in simplicity, and he was immediately led along. This happened to many others as well. The patriarch, however, knew he had been deceived, but he did not know what to do, as ^C a great necessity had arisen. And so, these men indeed subscribed to the decided plan; but to the one of Thessalonica these things were not even to be heard, as he did not deign to receive them even with the tips of his ears; for he deemed that the heir of the empire should take precedence in all things. And when he was reminded of Mark, and the emperor, sending, rebuked ^D

as the one who had previously predicted the empire while he was still a private citizen, under the reign of the boy's father, ^A should now so stubbornly obstruct a matter necessary for the preservation of the dignity, he said that he remembered and approved of it, but that he would only assent to Palaiologos’ honor if he were allowed to take precedence over all, as one ruling by hereditary right. Then those who stood around the Thessalonian in this state of constancy admonished him to turn his mind toward the boy, for whom he was fighting so pugnaciously, who was indicating by sign that he would take it in good part if Palaiologos alone were crowned. Moved by nothing of this, he even heard the boy himself speaking to him in a stammering voice, saying that it would suffice for him at that time if he could live safe and secure from violence. For many were threatening to remove him from the midst if he resisted; and a cohort of Celts carrying axes was standing around, prepared with ambiguous obedience at the nod of those in power, whether to protect the boy or remove him, and to do whatever was ordered. But he despised these threats as well, expressed in the boy’s fear, remaining intrepid in the proposed intercession of the Thessalonian, always fixed upon the one thing he had said. But he could not persist to the end: for a clamor arose against him from many, vying with one another—some admonishing, others rebuking him—as to whether he was not ashamed, being but one, to stand against so many and such men in public. Overcome, therefore, he finally subscribed, but with words that to those who understood correctly indicated a subscription extorted from his hand, not a decision of his mind: for he added that he assented in like manner, remembering that among the poet "the like" is drawn to the signification of "the worst." Wherefore he thus implied that he had been coerced by extreme necessity, against his mind, to approve as good what he judged to be evil, with the persuasion of his mind reclaiming and excusing the insurmountable force ^C by conscience; and that therefore he had said he acted in like manner, that is to say, "most evilly," in which sense Homer used "like war" and "like old age."

IX. How Michael, having been crowned, won over the multitude both by words and by deeds.

As soon, therefore, as the ceremony of the coronation was finished and the Augusti had to proceed to the palace, those who had been crowned, Palaiologos with his ^B consort, went in front; behind them was the boy, not with a royal crown, but simply adorned with a band fringed with gems and pearls. And he did not care about this, of course, not yet perceiving it by reason of his age. And the reason that those present did not pay great attention to this was that, fearing everywhere whither these things would tend, they were turning their cares each to themselves and living either in fear or in hope of their own affairs. Moreover, divine vengeance, as we have learned, later overtook all who were participants in this insidious machinery in its own time.

Then, truly, the boy, living a carefree life, was entirely given over to games and the relaxations of that age. The emperor spoke to the assembly often during the day, and then, after he had finished, for the sake of winning over the multitude, he would throw silver from both hands into the midst of the crowded people. They, competing to gather it, would loudly praise the benevolent giver, telling the boy and his affairs to fare well, ignorant indeed of the evils into which they had fallen. For these were the beginnings of the plots of one of the Augusti against the other. But the people, having so quickly forgotten the vengeance sworn against the primary architect of the plots, while the tablets of the treaty confirmed by oath between the Augusti were still wet from the recent writing, were so far from drawing a sword against the author of the injury that they applauded him most effusively. In the ecclesiastical order, the clergy indeed, with the people...

were neglectful, but those who held the archiepiscopal office, having no other means to defend the boy or avenge the crime committed against him, insisted on binding the people with new and dreadful oaths to perform what they had promised. From this, one of two things necessarily had to follow: either that they should rush blindly into civil war and expose themselves to be slaughtered, or bind themselves before God with the unexpiable sin of perjury. But the popular saying is true, that what is to be altogether cannot be forestalled by any foresight. ^A Furthermore, Palaiologos, after those speeches, was wont to play with spears and balls with the princes, running through equestrian games to the great delight of the spectators. Moreover, by these speeches he had injected such hope and joy into the minds of the common people, that they augured for themselves a life for the future heaped with every prosperity, as if sure that their happiness would endure; and here and there, with familiar congratulations, they began to repeat and frequent in their conversation certain sayings from ancient memory that bore the omen of witty urbanity and liberty. These customs were that it was now permissible to smooth the hairs of one’s beard, to comb them, and to curl them by twisting them with one’s fingers, and that it was a time of leisure for those who were rejoicing profusely. Nor did the common folk occupy themselves in any other way with a kind of leaping alacrity, some parting the hairs grown upon their cheeks down the middle. And I remember seeing them acting thus with huge exultation, adding that the emperor so commanded, as he provided such blessed leisure for affairs and promised such for the future, while the morose sadness of ominous prophets—who for some reason or other had drawn from I know not where a confidence in divination—vainly clamored against such insane joys, warning of evils. Among these most inauspicious voices were such as: "You may indeed ^B vibrate the hairs of your cheeks for joy at the hope of the duration of this prosperous state of affairs, only to pull them out later through the fierce impatience of the famine that will oppress your throats." But they, in their playfulness, deigning not to pay attention to these things as if they were the babbling of old women, spurned them. Whether these things were uttered in vain, the outcome declared; and we shall speak of them in their place, adding nothing to the truth. Then, therefore, Palaiologos having spent some days in this manner at Nicaea, when it seemed opportune to return to Nymphaion, having greeted the patriarch and taken up the boy—and having renewed his promises to care for him as a father—he set out with the first nobility and the army accompanying him.

10. How Palaiologos, having returned to Nymphaion with the boy, received embassies from every side.

But when he arrived at Nymphaion, he heard the envoys of the Persians and accepted their gifts. To the sultan, who was in danger because his affairs had taken a turn for the worse, he promised that if he should come to him, he would receive him with open arms, and when his domestic storm had abated, he would send him back safe to his own. The reason for the sultan's fear was that he heard Melek was approaching, and he dreaded that he might be bringing with him such and so great forces as he himself would not be equal to sustaining. ^C Furthermore, the pledge of trust toward Palaiologos for the sultan was the friendship contracted and cultivated between them by mutual favors at the time when they had been in Persia together. There came at the same time to the same man a great embassy of Italians living in the city, to whom he granted a truce to the war that was being waged against them, promising that he would enter into a firmer and fuller treaty with them soon, if they would carry out certain things in advance which he said he would propose. But he treated the envoys themselves, inasmuch as they were Romans and sprung from Romans, as liberally as he was able, and

^A having nothing in the city, he gave what they asked for if he possessed it, for Despot Michael, being pressed, secured what was given with documents sealed in gold. From this he behaved toward them as if they were his own, and by giving and receiving proof, he drew out the matter of the negotiations, expecting something greater from what he learned while speaking with the envoys. But he had become attached to the Westerners. Consequently, he sent his own brother, John, who was still Great Domestic, with a great many forces.

11. How the Emperor's own brother, John, received his dignities.

When he arrived among the Westerners, he appeared fearsome to them, feeling lightened both by the warmth of youth and by the army around him, and with untethered speed he captured the fortress near Canina, and also that near Bellagrada, Pologon, and Coloneia; he subdued Castoria, Pelagonia, Duras, Tzernikon, Diabolis, Prilapum, Bodeena, and the island of Bostros, ^B and the lake, Petra, Prespa, Steridola, Achrida, and the fortifications of the Illyrians, and reached as far as Dyrrhachium, shaking his spear. He also attacked Patra and Trikke, and having gained those in the circuit by agreement, and the majority without battle, he struck great fear into the Despot and reduced him to a narrow strait. At that time, the ruler, deeming him worthy of a grand fortune, sent the symbols and appointed him Sebastocrator.

12. How Michael Despota, being pressed, sent his wife and son to the Emperor.

But Michael, after the alliances with the auxiliary forces sent by his son-in-law Manfred—concerning which I have spoken before—had turned out as they had against the Caesar, having come to his senses after the city was lost, sent to the Emperor his wife, Theodora, and his son, John; the former to negotiate peace for her husband, and the latter to be a hostage, though he was to be provided for—for as long as he lived—and ^C he would also be given a woman to wed, whom the Emperor would indeed provide. Then, having quickly subjugated affairs there and fought in the manner of Ares, or rather, having established order, thrown in guards, and set watches, he returned with brilliant and illustrious trophies, and having wrapped himself in no small amount of booty. The Emperor rewarded him, and with him many others, with the greatest dignities.

13. How the ruler honored the magnates with dignities.

He established John as Despot, and his deeds caused him to be named "Great" as well; and the other of the brothers, Constantine, he made Sebastocrator, after the Caesar; for ^D at the same time he named John Sebastocrator.

^A His father-in-law, the Despot’s Tornikios Constantine, he made Sebastocrator from the rank of Great Primicerius, though not on an equal footing with the first and his own brother; for that one he had honored with the imperial eagles according to custom, but this one he inscribed as Sebastocrator only in the blue garments, lacking those symbols. He also gave his daughter—the one born after the previous one whom the Despot had—to the Despot’s son from the West, John, whom, as we wrote before, his father had sent to the Emperor as a hostage. Alexios Strategopoulos, being old, he appointed Caesar. And the elderly Laskaris, brother of Tzamantouros (for he himself had donned the monk’s habit), he proclaimed Great Duke. John Raoul, son of the Protovestiarios Raoul, and Alexios, son of the blinded Philes—the former he joined in marriage to the niece of the Emperor, Theodora (the widow, as has been said, of the Protovestiarios Mouzalon, who had recently been widowed), daughter of his own sister Eulogia by a Cantacuzenus—and appointed him Protovestiarios; the latter he united in the same bed with Maria, the sister of this same lady, and appointed him Great Domestic. And Theodora, who had been born of another of his sisters, Martha, and whom Basilius Caballarius had possessed, he separated from him at the request of the sister herself, due to the circumstances that had befallen her through no fault of her own, and gave her in marriage to Balanidiotes, whom he also honored as Great Stratopedarches. ^B He kept the brothers of this woman—the sons of his sister Martha, who were still youths—in high favor and saw to their royal upbringing within the palace (their names were Michael, Andronikos, and indeed John). Much later, he also took Andronikos Palaiologos from the West—whom he wrote of as a first cousin, having come up alongside the Despot together with many other Western lords—and gave him as wife the widow of Andronikos Mouzalon, whom we have already recorded as having been Great Domestic, and appointed him Protostrator, at the same time bestowing upon him the colleague Alexios Philanthropenos with the same title of dignity. Then, to this position he appointed Alexios Philanthropenos. The brother of his mother-in-law, Angelos, he made Great Primicerius; he made Michael Nostongos Protosebastos, and Michael Palaiologos Mystikos, whom we say were cousins to the Emperor by kin. He promoted many other of the nobles to offices, moving the Logothete of the Herds, Hagiotheodorites, to call him Logothete of the Household, and appointing Michael ho Kakos to Protasēkrētis, joining him to a noble virgin of the line of the Philanthropenoi; and, in short, he was very generous in courting the favor of the nobles. ^C

14. How the Emperor sought with urgency to take the city, and how he took Selybria.

It was therefore his urgent desire to take the city, and he compelled himself by finding methods of battle against the Italians, and hastened to occupy the places around it in advance. Since, however, the ^D

neither side despoiled the other in battle, the Emperor thought it best to cross the Hellespont to Selybria, which had recently been captured, and there, sitting at a close distance, to deliberate on how the city might be taken for the Romans. But an event concerning the Church did not allow him to cross. ^A

15. How the patriarch Arsenius abdicates the patriarchate.

Selybria was being held, and by sending forces he ^B captured the city by storm and easily added it to Roman rule. Our people moved even closer to the city and occupied the suburbs, except for Aphamea, a fortress defended by a strong garrison of Italians. There were some inhabitants of that land who had come from Chrysea and further places, men who were free and of their own law, and who were of a double-minded favor toward the Romans and the Italians; and they were accustomed to incline toward whichever side they pleased. They were naturally inclined toward the Romans, as they were Romans themselves, but they trusted the Italians to keep watch over them because of their familiarity; for it was not possible to trust others. As for driving out the inhabitants, there was the danger that the wilderness would follow. Therefore, being in the middle between the Romans and the Italians, they were for this reason called "Thelematarii" (that ^C is to say, volunteers), because, as I have said, they were accustomed to incline toward whichever side they wanted with impunity, cultivating the fields near the city and living from them, while remaining at rest from both sides, as each side required their affection so that they would not be harmed. For it was evident that they held no love for those who were not their own; for it was possible for them to harm the Italians by withdrawing from there and leaving the place desolate, and similarly the Romans, if they were to attempt something, not only by refusing to assist, but also by obstructing them by force, because of their hatred toward them, being clearly inclined toward the Italians. After the capture of Selybria, therefore, there was nothing between them and our people, yet if they happened to meet each other, they behaved in a friendly way toward them ^D and they toward others.

For Patriarch Arsenius, whether weighing the act done to the Emperor, realizing how he himself had been deceived, while the heir of the empire remained unhonored and disregarded with everything being administered by Palaeologus, or whether someone else had pricked him as if he had performed very great and unforgetable things, or whether there was some other grief gnawing at him (for it was not clear what he was doing for which he was departing, but he feigned causes as if he were being despised and as if he gained nothing by speaking to the Emperor on behalf of the things pertaining to the Church), having spoken all this to the clergy, he suddenly, with a swift impulse, set out on foot and reached the gate of the city of Nicaea, and having shaken off the crowd around him, he went away irrevocably, having few companions with him. And having rested a little at a monastery near the wall called Agalmatis, he entrusted his journey to the night, and carrying himself off, he gave himself to the monastery of Paschasius, a monastery suitable for quiet.

situated appropriately, with the sea before it and the Dracon river on the other side, by whose bank it was built. ^B And there he settled into profound leisure, no longer exercising any of the proper functions of a patriarch, but, having set everything aside, he conversed with himself alone and with God.

But the clergy of Nicaea, and as many of the bishops as were then staying in that royal city on account of business, were moved, as was fitting, by such an unaccustomed deed, and they wrote to him suppliant letters, praying that he would return, and suggesting that it might happen that the Emperor, having heard of such a thing, would be offended; and that if any of the things that were being done displeased them, it would have been equitable for him, sitting upon his throne, to rebuke with patriarchal authority what was wrongly done; and if he could not cure it by himself, to refer it to the Emperor; nay, even if in the Emperor himself there were that which provoked him, he should admonish him, and even scold him by the authority received from God, and by exhorting and entreating him, recall him, while the other bishops would cooperate in that same matter to the best of their ability. ^C But to secede without alleging suitable reasons for such a novelty, he should consider again and again lest the counsel appear less than sound.

These things, and others to the same effect, were sent and delivered, though by the labor of those writing, and for him to whom they were sent, it was entirely useless. For they neither drew him from his hiding-place, nor did the silence of the patriarch, who obstinately persisted in not revealing the reasons for which he had seceded, leave them even a hope of achieving anything thereafter; for if these were known, as it usually happens that ills whose origin is not hidden can be cured, some useful method of remedy might perhaps have been entered upon. Now, in the blind ignorance of the old man’s inner thoughts, however many things they said, they were throwing words in vain, like those who cast arrows at an unseen target.

When some days had been consumed in these things in vain, and a return was despaired of, the rumor of the affair was carried to the Emperor, which indeed fell upon him as grave and very troublesome. ^D Therefore, having communicated what he had heard to the bishops who were by chance present, he inquired of them what they thought should be done on such an occasion. Their response was perplexed, first exaggerating the weight of an most unusual act—that the prince of the sacred rites had suddenly seceded from the midst of things without any known cause, in the middle of time of peace for both Church and state—and then adding that it was not a ready matter to move the first prelate from his position, or to seek another who might take his place. But above all these things, their anxiety was increased by the tension of him who was consulting them, for his own perturbation was evident from his face and was vainly dissimulated. For Michael himself, while he asked what was necessary to be done, feared greatly that he might hear what his own conscience (whose judgment, however, is inflexible toward favor) was inwardly reproaching him with—namely, that he himself had given the cause for the patriarch to secede, however much he refused to admit it, but by a certain feigned grief, the pretense of which he alone complained of, he concealed his own contempt.

Consequently, a gathering of bishops from wherever they might be is held at once. A deliberation is declared regarding the present matter to those called together. It was decided at last that Nicetas, the bishop of Heraclea, should be sent to the patriarch (for he was said then to be staying in the monastery of St. Diomedes) to carry to him the commands of the synod recalling him, and declaring that it judged his secession to be publicly harmful and ill-timed, and showing itself ready to hear from him the causes of his most unexpected and unratified act; in the meantime, however, it was going to rebuke him because he had acted wrongly, perhaps having been turned aside by some sickness of soul, but that sickness, whatever in the end it might be,

he should immediately provide for. And this, indeed, happened, and he gave his consent, if they so wished. ^A Since the intervention of the bishop of Heraclea had been added, which brought the dignity of the priesthood into the reasonable grounds for resignation, it stirred the man to anger, and there was confusion. And he said, “Why, not content with the written or even the active resignation, do you wish also to entangle us with unfavorable causes? We are withdrawing of our own accord from these affairs, and we care nothing for whatever may happen.” ^B Having thus been repelled, they in all gravity sent him away, traversed with speed the intervening distance, met with the Emperor and the synod, and reported what had been said to the patriarch, and finally, they also added their own account, confirming that his mind was unmoved. They also held out a safer test, if certain [envoys] were sent to take back his staff and the candelabrum, which he himself would immediately provide. This also took place, and he allowed them to take [them], if they wished. The Emperor, no longer deeming it tolerable to wait for these things, for a sufficient defense to the patriarch of future events, and considering the earnest request from himself, and, moreover, because Nicephorus of Ephesus asserted that the ordination of that man had not proceeded according to the canons (for there was haste on the part of Theodore, the ruler at that time, and ^C urgency due to the concerns of the Western frontier at that time).

Therefore, the Emperor permitted the bishops to do whatever they wished. And indeed, although they spent many days reflecting, there was nothing more for the Patriarch to suffer in terms of impatience and condemnation; that is, as far as saying and seeking correction for his own faint-heartedness and yielding the throne to others. Such was their view. But as it later turned out, the matter being sought was not merely difficult to remedy, but entirely incurable; therefore, by way of direct apology, he wanted to place the guilt of his own ignorance before God, since things had not progressed according to his hopes.

At that time, after the bishops had searched at length for who might accept the Church under the pledge of security—and especially those who were thought to be the best, and on whom the rest of the multitude of bishops depended—they finally came to one mind regarding the bishop of Ephesus, a man of piety and acknowledged for his virtue, and moderately adorned with learning, already old in years, who also possessed a zeal, both significant and—as if on behalf of the Church—burning. ^A

16. How Nicephorus, Patriarch of Ephesus, was restored.

There had occurred previously something which continued to sting him throughout his entire tenure in the episcopate (for he had been elected to the patriarchate by the synod under John Ducas, before the Patriarch Manuel, but the ruling emperor restrained the votes, fearing the man’s zeal, and saying, "If we can scarcely endure him while he is an archdeacon, how could we endure him as patriarch?"). ^B And so, although he had been appointed to Ephesus, he nevertheless contended that he had been wronged by the Emperor regarding his own proper honor. This preceding incident made the man compliant when he was summoned at that time, and he gladly accepted the election; for it appeared that he had been ordained to this by divine grace from that time forward, even if he had been hindered by the aforementioned cause—which was, however, sufficient to serve, now more than ever, for his own establishment, as the others who had taken his place by necessity were brought in. Thus ^C he, regarding the election as from God according to His just judgment, without any delay, was proclaimed Patriarch. And the Emperor, having sent him with very great honor toward Nicaea, and—

himself hastened to Lampsacus, intending to cross over to the opposite side, to Callipolis; for he had been gathering not a few forces against the Italians, ^A in order that, having sat down before it, he might attempt to capture the fortress situated opposite Byzantium, which is known by the name of Galata.

17. How the bishops of Sardis and Thessalonica did not agree with the others on these matters.

Then, therefore, Andronicus of Sardis and Manuel of Thessalonica (for Calophorus of Smyrna, even if he did resign, was yet accused of other motives which he thought were sufficient for his resignation)—they openly resisted; and while allegedly they were exhibiting zeal on behalf of the unjustly deposed Patriarch, they were secretly concealing and pursuing the matters for which the Patriarch had shown such zeal, as he was not yet achieving them. But Nicephorus, who was then presiding as Patriarch—he who had come from Ephesus—strengthened by the synod, and to a much greater extent by the will of the Emperor, and having also much gold collected from Ephesus, arrived at Nicaea. And at first he attempted in various ways to induce the dissenting bishops to join with him and be at peace, and he pursued them at length with threats; but he did not persuade them, and rather he further inflamed their zeal, and they laughed at his threats. And when, having done everything, he did not persuade them, he contemplated ^B introducing others to [their] churches, which indeed also happened later. He himself tried [to win over] the others, and there was much disturbance, and a great scandal arose publicly against him; except for those who had been appointed to offices of the Church, the rest abhorred his communion. However, some willingly and others unwillingly—though few inclined to his side by their own conviction—gave way, and those who were shaken in their resolves were fortified in their actions by those who were not persuaded. But the lay multitude sought the new shepherd far less than they sought the legitimate one.

Thus, therefore, with matters in turmoil, since he also learned that the sovereign was intending to wage a very great battle against the fortress of Galata so as to capture it, even if he were to suffer some harm (for he hoped for the taking of the great city from there), Nicephorus, having remained a little at Nicaea, departed immediately. And having arrived at the gate, he shook off the dust of his slippers, as if for a witness, and he set out. And through the sea strait at Helenopolis he hastened toward the Emperor, at once ^C finding refreshment there in the consolation of the Emperor, who was ^D favorable to him, and at the same time hoping for great things, seeing a battle being prepared against the city, as if it would soon be captured and he would be able to preside over the Church, having been relieved of Nicaea and the things there. While he was making the journey between, at Selybria and...

^A Andronicus of Sardis, having immediately departed from the church as if he wished to leave the matter to those who were absent, nevertheless approached and received the habit, being renamed Athanasius instead of Andronicus.

18. How the Sardian was tonsured as a monk at Selybria.

The Sardian, thinking he was doing something clever if he did not openly contend with the emperor by rejecting the patriarch whom he approved, decided to approach the ruler by another path. And so, when Joannicius of Philadelphia was celebrating the liturgy at the monastery of the Savior at the request of the emperor, and the emperor was present, and the Sardian was also present, he approached the emperor and reminded him that he intended to take up the monastic life at the hands of the Philadelphian. But he (for he was not ignorant of the guile in the mind of the speaker, as if he might at some point, if he chose, make a pretext of the arrival of the ruler, as if he had taken the habit under duress from him—for he supposedly held no desire for it by his own choosing), asked him what he had suffered that he wished to change his habit, and to what end he was choosing the quiet and inactive life. Nevertheless, he said, no one will stop you, if that is what you wish. As he was weaving his reasons ^B and removing through many arguments the opinion of the suspected scandal, the emperor cut him off. Since the liturgy had been completed, he approached the one who had celebrated and signed himself with the sign of the cross, and having taken the holy portion for sanctification, he departed from the temple, leaving them to do as they pleased in his absence. Nevertheless, the Sardian proceeded to his destination and took the monastic habit, being named Athanasius instead of Andronicus.

19. How many of the ecclesiastical leaders died in a short time.

One would wonder at the judgment of God at that time; for one could not suspect that the death of so many ecclesiastical leaders happened by chance. For in the space of almost nineteen months, men ^C who possessed much solemnity and dignity died. Regarding these, the one who had seen a dream before they died—this was John Veccus, who later, after having been chartophylax, became patriarch and suffered many terrible things, as the account will say at the proper time—related the dream in this way. He seemed, he said, to see the leaders of the ecclesiastical order riding on horseback across a level, wide plain, and having finished a long journey, they arrived at the bank of a very great and terrible river flowing by, and they began to cross in the order in which they subsequently died, first this one, then the second, and so on for the rest; for they did not cross two or three together, but each one separately. And as the one who was watching stood by, amazed and anxious about how he himself would cross, he heard a voice from somewhere indicating: "Why are you anxious? Not even you will cross the river now." For there is a time at which he himself will also of necessity ^D be crossed. "But now depart and be saved...".

reserved for a day of business." Thus he who had seen the dream related it long afterward, to our hearing and wonder. And he, being a man otherwise fond of truth, added an oath to confirm his statement, admiring at once the effective and inescapable power of Providence. ^A

20. On the attack upon the Galata fortress by the Emperor.

As the sovereign gathered his various and numerous forces and attacked Galata, he himself sat at a suitable distance from the fortress walls in a high and prominent place, surveying the proceedings, while at the same time showing himself to the enemy, to see if his appearance and presence might terrify them. ^B Like rushing torrents, the soldiers and commanders who were to lay siege flowed in from every side, and having pitched their tents out of bowshot, they stood ready to attack. They immediately made their assaults, dividing into parties; and in some places, having set up siege engines, they attempted to breach the wall. The multitude was greater than was required for the siege of such a fortress; for in addition to many other brave men, archers had been summoned by the Emperor from the regions around Nicaea, and since they were accustomed to strike the mark, they did not allow anyone from the fortress to show his head over the wall, piercing anyone who appeared with an arrow aimed straight at his face. ^C But the Italians, every day by means of fishing boats, sent in young men to replace those who were exhausted, entering through the sea gate; and having reinforced the interior walkway with large pieces of timber, they defended the wall strongly. The result was that many of those attacking from the outside fell, struck by missiles from hidden positions. For, with their feet placed in safety, these robust men, constantly relieved by fresh troops, strained at the catapults they had long learned to operate, and cast heavy projectiles of various kinds with great destruction to the enemy, themselves safe behind the breastwork of the walls, through the apertures of which they cast deadly missiles out of unseen cracks. ^D The labor of shaking the walls fell to those attacking from the outside; they hammered them not ineffectually with huge stones hurled by ballistae, and for their demolition they moved up ladders made of cheap wood, covering the parts exposed to blows with extended shields. When the men climbed those ladders to the top of the ramparts, their heads were indeed safe, protected, as I said, by shields turned upward; nevertheless, those who were inside, through the numerous gaps that riddled the wall, aimed their missiles and did varied harm, defending the fortress with all their might. Our men were animated by their own numbers, as well as by their valor, consciousness of their skill, and the art of war, but above all by the presence of the Emperor, who bore witness before his eyes to whatever each man did that was noble. The Italians were strengthened and kindled to a fierce tenacity in resisting by their own ardor, as they were fighting for their altars and hearths, by the sharp presence of their ready minds, and especially by the easy reception of the exhausted and the cycles of regular rest provided by the daily succession of fresh troops, as well as by a certain contest of praise, since those who were coming up always feared lest they might seem unequal to those who were departing. And for them, indeed, sallies were not safe, for they were overwhelmed by the multitude of the besiegers.

^A Struggle also prevailed for both sides: for the emperor's men, to take it, since with the fortress they would possess the city; for the others, to hold out, since the city would necessarily perish along with the fortress. The battle reached a stalemate for those fighting over time, for the emperor's men were plainly ashamed that, having fought with such a large force against a fortress held by so few, they had achieved nothing noteworthy, while the Italians turned it into a matter of pride that the places had not been taken, since they were so few that they did not even dare to come out, and at the same time they delighted that the emperor himself seemed to be vanquished and all his power gathered together at once. Then, indeed, many were struck down daily from the wall by weapons launched from massive catapults, so that they were even mocked with pity by those not wishing to shoot, but rather sending messages to the one walking within range, because of the proximity, saying he should keep safe for his wife, as they claimed. And at the same time, rumors spread that, as if by divine mission, many other strong men had arrived. Overwhelmed by deep feelings, both because of the futility of the labor, and after the loss of those who had fallen, even if he mocked the lack of success, he decided to break off the war, yet not by agreement, so that he might leave himself. ^B some hope for better outcomes in the future.

21. Regarding the corpse of the Emperor Basil Bulgaroctonus.

Then, some of the emperor's household, wandering about at their leisure to ease their minds, arrived at the monastery of the Theologian situated in the suburb called the Hebdomon. Nothing of the monastery remained but the name, its entire form having been destroyed by ruins. Having entered the temple that had been there, which also was destroyed and converted into a stable for cattle, they cast their eyes here and there, and not without some admiration they gauged, from the miserable sight of the remains, how great the sacred beauty of that building had been while it still stood. (Among these were Demetrios Iatropoulos and the then-logothete of the domestic staff). Suddenly, they saw, standing in a corner, the corpse of a man long dead, entire and whole in all its limbs, naked from head to feet. It also had in its mouth a reed of a shepherd's pipe, placed mockingly by those who were in charge of the cattle there. As they saw this, they admired the completeness of the body, yet they were at a loss as to who it could be, that one who was fixed there and was still composed of flesh, and they saw on the right a cenotaph, and on it verses inscribed declaring who was laid there. This was, as the letters indicated, Basil the Bulgaroctonus. As—

^A they reported to the Emperor what they had seen, the Emperor was immediately filled with pity and sent golden-threaded silk shrouds. Having further sent out the singers along with not a few of the magnates, the relic was carried with great honor and escort, beneath psalms and hymns, in a precious casket to Galata. There, he commanded his brother, the Sebastocrator, to place the casket in his own tent, and, having placed it beneath golden veils under an unquenchable light, to honor it as was fitting, near his own bed, until they departed thence to Selymbria, where they transported it honorably and brilliantly to be deposited in the monastery of the Savior. From there, therefore, they returned toward Nymphaeum to settle matters in the West, as the report of the Emperor’s approach had reached as far as Orestias and beyond, and it calmed the unrest.

22. How the Patriarch Nicephorus reaches Nymphaeum together with the Emperor.

When they reached Nymphaeum with great speed, the Patriarch, who was accompanying the ruler, since the Bishop of Thessalonica and the Bishop of Sardis, remaining immovably in their private convictions, had been banished out of the way, appointed others to replace them in the care of those Churches. He appointed Cydones Joannicius, formerly the superior of the monastery of the Sosandrans, to Thessalonica, and Chalazas Jacob, who had come over from the West to the ruler, to Sardis. He had also chosen for the see of Smyrna Isaac, a man himself also hono^Brable, originating from the monastery of Xeropotamou, which is situated in the Western parts. But while he was in the midst of preparations to ordain him, the Patriarch fell ill, and the Patriarch, by whose counsel and will—or rather that of his minister (for this also is said, since the former was bereft of the use of his senses and was breathing his last)—Nicetas of Thessalonica was promoted to the throne of Dyrrhachium. Now, the day decreed by death had dawned for the ruling Patriarch, and Theodosius, a Peloponnesian monk from the lineage of the princes ruling there, a pious man who had practiced the religious life for a long time, and who was moreover agreeable in his manner and pleasant and varied in his speech—such that anyone who saw him, even if they were deeply grieved, would depart filled with joy—and who, being well-born, was called the uncle of the ruler, was entrusted by the Emperor with the administration of the affairs of the one who was all but dead, especially since he was wealthy from the many riches of Ephesus. Then, indeed, it is said that he nudged the governor who was lying there to see if he would choose to be clothed in the monastic habit; but he was not only unpersuaded, but he even took the reminder poorly, as if he were a high priest about to die. And indeed, having passed away from human life as quickly as possible, his corpse was transported to Ephesus and was committed to the tomb in the metropolitan church—a man austere in his life, fearless in opposing princes, a contemner of dangers and threats, accustomed to virtue from childhood, but seen by many at the time as having been intruded into the patriarchal throne, not so much because he had been translated from the Ephesian see, as because he had been translated while the legitimate patriarch was still alive.

23. How the Emperor stripped the young John of his power.

The emperor, however, was as successful as he had planned in his own mind, with no one standing in his way (for the child was gradually being cast aside and was weakening in his hold upon the throne, to the point where even the very symbols of empire were felt by him as an empty burden; for it had been decreed that even these were to be taken from him). For this reason, he was in a state of truce and ease, pampered by the attentions of his own sisters, whom he used for everything. One of them, Martha—as she had appeared to him in the place of a mother ^A and had raised him in her home—was the wife of the Grand Domestic, a man highly valued by the emperor (that celebrated Tarchaniotes). The other, Eulogia, who also possessed a virtuous character and was even more deeply concerned for the emperor than the former, I know not if she did not also hold out good hopes to the emperor regarding the Great City, that he would capture it by destiny.

As for that destiny, by which the city was to be taken, she used to recount it with clear speech and wonder, saying—though she had to charm the boy before she related it—that when the emperor was still an infant ^B and lying in his cradle, he would often grow wild and whimper, warding off sleep. Because she needed to soothe him with some song on account of his wildness, she would weave together many things from memory; and with closed lips, murmuring endearments, she would run through the account of the city (for the saying went that when the emperor of the city entered through the Golden Gate, and when he had accomplished such and such glorious deeds there), the child would immediately be charmed by these words, as if by Sirens, and would be quieted, and would fall asleep in a soft and pleasant way.

Such were the emperor’s sisters, who even in the past had provided him with proper care, and now, too, showed him great consideration and protection. By their entreaties he performed many favors for people, and he would listen to their counsel and frequently agree to it. It is said, moreover, that it was by their advice, and especially that of Eulogia (for she had a softer disposition in most matters), that he decided to reduce John to the state of a private citizen.

24. Concerning the Caliph and the Persians, how they were subjected to the Tochari.

At that time, the Tochari—whom common usage calls the Tatars—having flowed into Persia like a winter torrent, the Caliph was put to death by them by having gold poured into his mouth, ^D not so much because they lacked a more expedient way of killing him, but as a reproach for his blind avarice, since, when he could have easily defeated the enemy by spending his gold, he had preferred gold over

his own life and safety, and by the very metal he had so desperately loved, he met a tragic end. And in this manner, by a judgment of God, he was fittingly strangled. ^A Meanwhile, the affairs of Persia were suffering under great troubles and impending dangers, which did not leave even Sultan Azatines free from fear. For the Persians were dreading that nation [the Tochari] greatly, and, as if the success of resistance were hopeless, they neglected the common good and were content to buy their own safety privately, as best each one could. Indeed, the state of the Persians was reeling from the beginning, with the satraps rebelling, so that even two of the great nobles from there defected to the Emperor, for they despised the Sultan, seeing that he led his life in a slothful and debauched manner, like a private citizen. ^B These "Basilici," as they were called—men originally from Rhodes, who had once gained the Sultan's favor through their skill in music and playing the lyre, but who subsequently, because they excelled in counsel and prudence, were counted among his primary intimates—were extremely wealthy, possessing much gold, both fashioned into cups and similar vessels or minted into the Chalybian currency. Moreover, the quantity of veils, precious stones, and pearls they had in secret was such that, had anyone seen them, he would rightly have been amazed. Recalling, therefore, the old friendship they had contracted with the Emperor when he had fled to the Persians while still a private citizen, and remembering also that they had observed signs of mutual benevolence toward them in him, they did not doubt that he was a man of the character they could trust not to ignore, now that he had ascended to the throne, the favor received during his private life, and that—possessing even greater power now—he would repay it all the more generously. ^C When they had first consulted with him [the Emperor] through secret messengers, and had received royal letters that fully guaranteed their safety, they packed their goods quietly, carried them off to safety, and made for the Emperor with all speed in the guise of deserters. He received them gladly and honored them as befitted them, appointing the one, Basilius, as the guardian of the bedchamber, and making the other, Basilicus, the Great Hetaeriarch. ^D He soon found them dexterous and industrious in all matters to which they were applied, and he frequently made use of their services, declaring his own favor toward them with no uncertain proofs. They, having much of their own wealth, and having received no small responsibility from the Emperor to manage, acted with great fidelity and goodwill, and—having transformed themselves into the customs and habits of the Romans—rendered the most faithful service to the Emperor; for nothing so inspires true love and sincere loyalty in subjects toward a prince as favor promptly returned for merits, and benefits spontaneously presented to those who are worthy and know how to reciprocate. Then the Sultan, as those around him were wavering more and more—both because of the nation of the Tochari that had appeared and because of his own private affairs, and having no idea what he should do while all were in turmoil—decided to flee to the Emperor with his wives, children, his aged mother (who was a most excellent Christian), and his sister, since from him alone at such a turn in his affairs could he be helped and hope for future assistance, so that, if ever that storm should subside, he might attempt to return.

^A For it was he that had previously, long ago, defected to the emperor and was being detained there, as the aforementioned Melech had been; and the emperor feared that if he were released, he might—day by day—appear with a multitude, and that it would not go well for the stability of his own rule. Yet he trusted in those old acts of kindness toward the emperor and felt confident that, by appearing, he would achieve whatever he desired. Having therefore gathered a multitude of gold coins not easily numbered, and having clothed himself in the wealth of the Persians, together with his wives and children, he proceeded to the emperor, guided by the governor of Pisidia. ^B The emperor, as was expected, received him gladly, though he had nothing in which he could make use of his services at that time, except that he showed him great kindness and gave him reason to be confident that, at the proper time, he would return and recover his rule with his, the emperor's, assistance; he allowed him to live in the way he was accustomed to at home as a ruler of Persia. Whence it was that he sat with the emperor on royal dais, had fearsome bodyguards around him, and used the symbols of authority, wearing the red-dyed footwear. But he had these assurances and expectations of success because of the favor recently enjoyed, which he thought superior.

But ^C this was not a steady hope for those who thought more deeply. For then the emperor, managing the occasion, sent those around him—and especially his wives and children—to Nicaea, under the guise of protecting them, that they might be kept there in safety and not be harmed by being unguarded; for it seemed unseemly for them, unaccustomed to such things and to the women's quarters, to campaign with the emperor, and, again, if they were to stay in the East while the emperor was withdrawing, it might result in danger. By taking the sultan about with him, however, with the appropriate honor, he obscured the action concerning the sultan's own affairs—which, in appearance, as has been said, he was ordering for their safety, but in truth was arranging so that their safety would ensure the sultan remained in safety and was not otherwise occupied. For he was preemptively securing peace with Chalaus, the prince of the Tocharoi, so that he might have an opportunity thereafter for things in Persia, with not even the name of the sultan being mentioned in it. ^D And for this reason, as days wore on after days, the affairs of the Persians were declining

to the Tocharoi, as one might say of those who are nomads and averse to the life of the state, not wishing to subject themselves, [P. 86] but preferring to be by themselves, having seized our fortifications, yet also suspecting the danger from this, if they should be attacked openly. In matters of general and universal concern, they were formally under treaty with the Emperor, but individually they would lie in wait by night and use theft against our people. And it was no trouble for our own people to do the same to them in return. But the Emperor, considering by every means the nation of the Tocharoi to be irresistible in its onset, as it appeared likely, having just stirred, he both held the Persians in the fortifications in great favor, hoping to use them as a defensive wall if the others should press hard, and he made it his practice to be under treaty with them for other reasons as well, namely, by marriage. For the thought of even considering war with them seemed so terrible, that even until that time, the very name alone brought fear [P. 87] and dread.

For previously, John Ducas had heard only the fame of them, and he would fortify the castles with grain and weapons. The grain he ordered to be stored for long periods, sealing the contents of the granaries with leaden seals, and he ordered them to be fed from other sources, and he provided the necessary items to those who held them, so that they would lack nothing for their maintenance. For he ordered that, after the holy icon, the weapons should be inventoried as part of the dowry; for he did not even know what the nation was that had sprung from their lairs, and what customs they practiced, whether they wished for peace or war. Such was the nation, unknown until then. Among many they were said to be dog-headed, and they were heard to use forbidden diets, so much so that they were believed to be cannibals. But when Theodore was reigning, since it was said that they were sending envoys to him from Persis, and the report was true, fear and turmoil ^B

25. How the former emperors felt when they heard the rumor of the Tocharoi.

And previously indeed John Ducas, having heard only their fame, had fortified the castles with grain and arms. And he ordered grain indeed to be collected in such quantity as would suffice for the use of the longest possible time, and he ordered each of the granaries to be sealed with leaden seals indicating how much was stored in each. And so that this number might be more certain, he had ordered those who brought in this grain not to take from it for their own sustenance, but that it should be supplied to them from elsewhere, so that meanwhile, while they were engaged in that transport, they might eat. But he considered an overflowing number of weapons to be necessary, deeming it to be such a kind of thing that there was never enough for those who used them, since even when their supply seemed to be abundant, a shortage was often felt at the time of need. For this reason, he ordered those whose duty it was to supply certain things for the soldiers without charge to record on the lists of items to be supplied from the treasury, after the sacred icon, arms of every kind and use. The cause of this such accurate provision to this prudent prince was the rumor heard from afar of a numerous and fierce barbarian nation preparing to break out, even when it was not yet understood what it was, how much it could do, for what reason it was coming out of its lairs, what customs it used, and whether it would prefer peace or war. For such panic had spread among the common people with horror and terror at the mention of the Tocharoi, a certain blind ignorance of the masses, that many said they were deformed with dogs' heads, and it was heard everywhere about their monstrous manner of life, and they were believed to satisfy their gluttony with human flesh. But when it was said that they were sending envoys to Theodore, he being recent in the empire (nor did the rumor lie), that matter moved him to great fear and perturbation. Nevertheless, the emperor decided

to outwit them by dissembling this dread. And first, he sent ahead men to pretend they were announcing in Persia that the Roman emperor was preparing to move against them with hostile banners. These were sent off one after another with the greatest possible speed, with mandates intended to greatly extol the power of the Roman empire, such that no nation, however fierce and numerous, could resist it; and they were to insist upon this statement with the utmost efficacy, until they should win belief. Lest they be deterred by the danger of this mission, provision was made by the greatness of the promised reward. For ^B ample daily allowances from the public treasury were established for those who performed this service for the commonwealth, together with fixed pensions to last for all time, by which, if anything human—as is common in dangerous service—should befall those who had earned it, their wives and children would benefit. He also designated others to meet the envoys to show them the way: but he instructed these to lead them deliberately through the most rugged and trackless places, excusing this by the nature of the soil and the difficulty of the location; and having thus seized the occasion, to praise this very service rendered to them—as though, clearly, the emperor, having heard of their arrival and being conscious of the ruggedness of the journeys, had sent them guides and indicators of the way with much kindness. He had also admonished them that if, perchance, any of the envoys, stumbling among the hard-to-overcome precipices of the cliffs and the tangled thickets, should ask if a more convenient passage could be sought elsewhere by a long detour, they should constant and concordant assert that nowhere was there anything better to be hoped for: for everywhere the Roman land was similarly steep and obstructed; for those who had arrived from abroad would easily believe this, given their necessary ignorance of so distant a region. Whenever, however, after much labor they finally reached the emperor, he had devised a method of presenting a scene to them there ^C of the senate and as many as were in high dignity, especially the princes of the imperial blood, all equipped for the greater majesty, both in robes and in the courageous disposition of their souls, as if they were about to destroy everything on foot; often passing through from unseen places to converge in the same spot, so that they were the same persons in truth, yet appeared to be different and different ones, never the same, in the manner of a finger-ring without a setting, if one should wish to observe the front and the back on it, as it is often taken to be the same, yet appears different by the change. He himself, arrayed in imperial fashion, lacking nothing of what is fearful, sat somewhere above, carrying a sword in his hands, surrounded by expensive tapestries, and with other fearful things stationed about—enough of these, too, to terrify the observer by themselves—and thus he would transact business with the envoys who stood far off, just enough so as to conjecture the emperor and see the things being done; then suddenly, from out of the unseen, the curtains would be drawn open so that they might see the emperor on the throne looking very solemn ^D and indeed as though he would instantly terrify them by his very appearance. For he commanded the forces to come together in one place, and having armed them by clans, tribes, and ranks, to stand at certain intervals of the roads, clad in iron, to strike fear as if in a game.

And having said a few things and heard a few things from some who were conversing in between, even though these things seemed terrible, as if they were spoken only for the sake of intimidation—and having thus performed the formal duty for a little while—he sent them back, with the same guides leading them back through the rugged paths. Such, then, were the former events, and it turned out that he retorted their fear with cleverness; but at that time, he undertook to negotiate with them very calmly and gently, both to send envoys to them and to receive envoys from them, as if he were planning to make peace ^A immediately for the sake of his relatives.

26. Regarding the Western regions and how the Caesar attacked the city in passing.

While the Eastern regions were thus being solidified and were in good hopes, the conditions in the West were surging again. For Despot Michael, not bearing easily that he was deprived of the fortresses and driven from the territory which his uncle and father Theodore—who had also been acclaimed emperor in the West, having been crowned by Jacob, the bishop of Achrida, and who had torn these lands from the Italians with great sweat and by the sword ^B and had appropriated them to his own domain—was not bearing that he was deprived of these, Michael took back the agreements he had made with the Emperor, and by subverting the Western affairs, he easily persuaded them to incline toward him again, because the Westerners were in any case fickle. For this reason, the Emperor ordered Despot John to lead out an army immediately to wage war against Michael. Furthermore, since the forces sent by the Sicilian royal authority had appropriated many of the Illyrian and New Epirus territories, he sent those who would oppose them there as well.

And so, having handed over the Scythian [forces] to Caesar Alexios along with not many other troops, he first set him out toward Thrace, with orders to arrange the affairs in Orestiada as well as he could—placing those matters in second priority. ^C For the Bulgarian side would not remain calm, but rather, because of the hatred and enmity toward the Emperor, Eirene, the first of the daughters of Theodore Lascaris—who had recently reigned—the wife of Constantine, whom report indicated as the King of the Bulgarians, was very warmly inciting him to ravage the country, supposedly in retaliation for what her brother John was suffering.

Therefore, it was commanded by the Emperor to the Caesar, once he had arrived in the regions of Thrace and the city, to approach in passing and to threaten the Italians with the sword, but not to do anything further; for he did not have a sufficient supply of troops. When, therefore, the Caesar had crossed the strait and reached Callipolis, he decided, before ^D proceeding to the lower regions, to arrive at Selymbria and to approach the city from the Western regions (for there was nothing that prevented him from doing so, as all the places there were subject to the Emperor), to observe it as it was at that time, and to learn what the state of affairs was within.

^A Since the nephew, Alexius, pressed him to act with force, and one of the volunteers named Cutritzaces declared with boldness how the work might be accomplished (for what is fated is inescapable, as well for cities as for living beings), he took heart and grew eager to prevail. When the others had also learned of this and had gladly agreed to cooperate in the ambush, the Caesar himself would sometimes go around to survey the place as was fitting; at other times, he would withdraw to avoid suspicion, staying out of sight and attending to what was suggested, well aware of the nature of the places, and considering how the planned action might be best and most quickly carried out, lest some turncoat reveal the secret.

He was also able to see the volunteers whom the narrative mentioned previously and to discuss with them his thoughts regarding the city. ^B Having arrived and pitched his tents in the suburbs, he summoned those of them who were considered key persons in private, and he confidently revealed to them his intentions, holding out for them the prospect of the greatest benefits if they were to contribute their efforts. When they replied that there was an opportunity to act—as they would strike at just the right time (for such of the Italian fleet as was in the city was occupied at Daphnusia, intending to capture the island, and had been sitting there for many days in distress, and besides, the crowd in the city was untrained in war)—and when they pledged their loyalty, promising their cooperation, and assuring him that the rest would also be of one mind on this, the Caesar would immediately take heart for the assault whenever he looked to their words and saw their eagerness to assist; but when he looked back again at the difficulty of the undertaking and the danger of the matter—whether such a city, which many armies had been unable to take, could be captured by him on the spur of the moment with so few men—he would hesitate and delay. Nevertheless, he accepted their words and set the plan for what was to be done.

27. How the city was captured by the Romans.

^B When, therefore, the whole plan was settled, and the time was fixed—for they knew that it would be to their advantage to launch the attack at night and by surprise, when it was least expected—it was their concern to climb the wall using ladders in silence, to cast down from above those who were stationed to guard it, and to open the gate of the Spring ^C by inserting wedges and tearing down the stone wall that was fitted to it ^D beforehand.

^A Since they were revealing the plot to those inside, the Caesar gave orders that they should draw the soldiers in readily and enter through the gate that had been opened. As soon as the appointed night arrived, they set to work, and, having estimated a suitable spot, they brought up the ladder, keeping the whole operation well-guarded, lest they be detected by the sentries ^B and thus ruin the trap; for it was a very great danger to them if they were caught plotting. The Caesar, meanwhile, having taken the Scythians and all his other troops that night, hastened toward the city. And since he arrived at the vicinity of the gate with his men before the others had accomplished what they had agreed to do, and as the night was passing away while they remained idle, he began to fear greatly that this delay might be the cause or effect of some great evil. He suspected, in fact, an enemy ambush or some double-cross. ^C But Cutritzaces relieved him of his fear and exhorted him to take heart, affirming that those who had climbed the wall were indeed doing something inside. Yet the Caesar did not abandon his suspicions—for he could not imagine where or why they were idling, nor why they had not yet destroyed the temporary wall made of dry stones built up behind the gate of the Spring, as they had promised to do immediately. This, above all, added a very disturbing terror to him of the great danger from the enemy who would soon be breaking out. ^D Therefore, he did not hide the grief on his face, as if in belated repentance, that he had allowed himself to be mocked and deceived, and himself and his army to be treacherously led into a snare. The man who was attempting to remove this error through consolation was making so little progress that he was rather making himself suspected, as though he were a participant in the trick attempting to advance it with his deceitful speech. Wherefore he decided to hold him as a conscious accomplice to the treachery and to hand him over to his own men for custody—which he did, while the man himself was willing and showed himself ready to undergo any punishment if any treachery were plotted by those who had already entered the city. Alexius confirmed what was being confidently said by Cutritzaces on that occasion, supporting his uncle and urging him to lay aside his fear. Therefore, he remained at rest around the monastery situated at the Spring, keeping the army in silence and intent upon observing the signal that had been agreed upon. This was the acclamation of the kind that is usually made to emperors, to be uttered loudly on the wall and widely intelligible. They, for their part, with great care for avoiding noise, climbed their ladders one by one and immediately came upon the guards—who were Italians—sleeping, and delivered to them a terrible dream; for suddenly, before they were even aware, they seized them and cast them down after first slaughtering them. Some of their companions, who were roused by the tumult and were preparing to flee, they caught and cut down with their swords, so that no one was left to report what was happening. Indeed, the zeal with which they had overcome the fear of the obstacles—fear which, when they were timidly approaching the walls, had made them waver—now, finally, with their spirits and courage increased by success, they had prevailed and extinguished [the opposition], and they openly showed that they would not hesitate to attack with arms anyone who might oppose them. Having advanced to the gate of the Spring, and finding this also obstructed by a wall from behind, they tore it down immediately by pulling away and scattering the stones which had been hastily and carelessly stacked, thereby creating a wide and unobstructed entrance for the army that was about to break through. Then, with bronze wedges, they set to work breaking and tearing off the hinges of the doors. By chance, there was present at this

^A moment a priest named Laceras, one of the volunteers; he helped them manfully, and together with a certain Glabas and others, he climbed the wall. So great was the terror that had seized him that he could scarcely speak; indeed, he was close to losing his voice entirely from fear, for his panic made the very wall seem to tremble and shake, as if it were about to collapse along with the man who was to proclaim the acclamation for the rulers. Nevertheless, being steadied by the others, he announced the imperial name in a trembling voice, and those below joined with those above, the voice growing louder the higher it rose. Then the Caesar’s men, who were watching for the signal, heard the voice, leaped from their ambush, and with winged speed rushed to the gate, and having anticipated it, they entered in a great throng. Since it was still only the first light of day, they rushed through the district, pillaging and plundering all they encountered. The Scythians, meanwhile, with wise foresight, maintained their military formation, holding back the crowd that surged from the rest of the city if anyone gathered, curious to learn what was happening—for those who reported the event as it truly was were not believed.

The Caesar, however, thoroughly schooled ^B by long experience in military matters and having frequently and for long been involved in the dangers of expeditions and sieges, and therefore reflecting on how precarious and prone to ruinous error the storming of cities is, proceeded with a cautious, wise reserve until the day had fully advanced so that he could learn more accurately the number of forces within. This timidity in his advance was interrupted by another commotion, caused by a significant number of Italians appearing in arms, appearing strong enough to offer defense. Because of this, he was close to ordering a retreat and abandoning the operation, for he did not think those he had sent into the city were a match for them in battle, believing them barely equal to the task of a surprise assault from ambush. But the volunteers—who were otherwise brave and good at war, and were made even bolder by the certainty of the extreme danger hanging over them should the situation be abandoned—joined them. For there was no doubt that if the Italians escaped that danger unscathed, they would utterly destroy the subject race that had attempted to ruin them, exacting a harsh vengeance for so grave an injury. Thus, gathering and ^C drawing themselves up in battle line, they resisted manfully and at last prevailed, having lost only a few of their own; they defeated and routed the enemy, driving those who had turned their backs to flee into the hiding places they knew, where they might preserve their lives under the cover of darkness. Only then did the Scythians safely and openly busy themselves with gathering spoils and plunder from the enemy, and, rushing into the storehouses of victuals, they filled themselves with food and drink. Yet, they still gathered repeatedly throughout the day around the Caesar and, surrounding him, stood guard and were ^D protected by him and the forces he led, so that all of them, if any new adversaries appeared, might eagerly...

^A attack them.

As for the Latin Emperor Baldwin, he was so struck by what he heard that he lost his wits and could think of nothing but flight. Abandoning the palace of the Blachernae, for he felt the land was no longer defensible, he hurried away—for he put more trust in the sea—toward the Great Palace, and just as he was, having cast off his headpiece and dropped his sword, the symbols of his own imperial power, he boarded a ship and entrusted his safety to it. On that day, the commanders of the Roman phalanx, intending to find and seize the reigning emperor, used these items as tokens of his flight. They were all the more encouraged by the fact that the man appointed to watch over the city had become a fugitive, and by taking up his headpiece and sword, they produced these as a sufficient first fruit and initial prize of the spoils taken in the city. At the same time, this was a sign to those who placed their hope in him that he had nothing left to hold onto, having chosen to flee. But when news of what had happened became known, even to those who were still fearful and could not quite believe what they held in their hands, it quickly reached those at Daphnusia. Whether it was rumor, or God acting through rumor, as soon as they heard, they fell into discord, fearing for their wives and children ^B.

Yet, they hastened to arrive and to defend the city as best they could; for the account holds that they used about thirty or more long ships, both single-banked and triremes, at Daphnusia. With all these fast-sailing ships, they rushed toward the city, encouraged also by the very large ship from Sicily, which carried many passengers, hoping that they too would join in defending their kin and meet their assailants head-on. While they were rushing forward with these hopes, the Caesar, anticipating their arrival, summoned the "Romans" [Pro-Roman Latins], who, as Romans, were helping our side whether they wanted to or not.

There was at that time a servant close to Baldwin named John Phylax—or Warden—a man of profound intelligence and endowed with the highest degree of prudence, who then introduced a plan very timely and suited to the occasion, which another would have hesitated to suggest, looking to the deadly outcome of the matter. For, knowing that they were fighting out of necessity and beyond their strength for their wives, their ancestral homes, and all their possessions, and that, like boars, they would throw themselves into the fray in order to either prevail or die with honor, he wisely divided the need, and advised them to set fire [to the city], ^C as the houses and surplus gear would be consumed—

^A—and as women and children would of necessity be kept safe by their sallying forth. In some instances, when they saw that the pure materials and wealth were also being saved, they would consider these—those who had seen from the ships their houses being devoured by fire, and women and children stretching out their hands for help—as of no account, as if they were no longer in existence, while these [men] would seek to save [the people]; and thus those who gave thanks would place them in the care of those who sought them out, rejoicing if they themselves and their wives and children were saved. For it was already prepared for them, even the triremes that had received the multitude, and if others wished [to join], they were also permitted—for the ship from Sicily was sufficient to receive them. ^B Thus, the plan having been proposed and appearing good, and because they could not hold out any longer due to the small number of men, they immediately set fire to where there were more houses and property. ^C This, spreading, began to consume the houses. Those in the houses rushed out in alarm like bees being smoked out, occupying the hills of the city, naked as they were, and at the same time terrified for their own safety, with tears and in helplessness as to what should happen (for whether they might succeed, it would not be well for them to have been stripped bare while danger was at the same time threatening their own; or whether they should not prevail, to perish utterly along with their wives and children) they turned to supplication and most fervently implored their own kin—if they wished, to save them along with the goods that remained, but if not, then to suffice them by receiving back their own kin safely. ^D Then, indeed, terrible and grievous things were done, the greatest that one has ever received by sight and hearing. For chaste women and virgins, covered only by a shift or a tattered tunic—whichever had first come to hand for those expediting their flight—ran with bare feet under the gaze of many, in dishonor, to their kin. And they paid the penalty directly to the Italians for the outrages which they themselves had once inflicted upon the Romans. At the same time, the ancient oracle was also fulfilled: "Alexius Alexopulus, and over these, Cutritzaces." For I, the writer of this history, remember that before the city was taken, I heard my father speaking with another about these and reciting the prophecy, the event of which had not yet been fulfilled. For since both of those were citizens of Constantinople and were being compelled to go into exile, they were searching the prophecies out of a desire for their fatherland, as is natural, [to see] if any...

^A capture of the fatherland might occur, and they were speculating about it by the light of a lamp at night (I myself was the one holding the wax candle and lighting it for them). It so happened that this was being talked about by them, as if they were knowing—or perhaps as if they were knowing [or] were guessing where it might be captured from; for they suspected that, upon the rise of a future emperor named Alexios, the capture of the city would occur, and of a few others whom the oracle mentioned. These were the Caesar Alexios, unequivocally; the nephew of that man, Alexios, who was contributing much to the plot; and the one who seemed to be [a leader] of the volunteers, Koutritzakes, who was also the first to signal the plan for the capture.

28. Regarding the Protasigretis Sennacherib, and what he did upon the capture of the city.

But these things concerning the city were done in this way. Since, however, the deeds had to be proclaimed everywhere—all the more so because of their miraculous nature, given that such a city was captured, as it were, in passing by those who had not originally arrived for this purpose—some of the swiftly-running messengers set off everywhere in the world to congratulate [the people], announcing that the Great City had been captured on a feast day of the Theotokos, that of St. Anna, in the month of Anthesterion, almost without a struggle and in a way that those who were captured had never expected would ever happen. And a sign of the truth of what was being said to them was a scarlet-dyed pike being displayed. ^B [p. 96] When they also arrived at Nicomedia, the feast day of the greatest among martyrs, Panteleemon, being in progress, that wicked Sennacherib happened to be there, boasting grandiosely in his office of Protasigretis. He heard the thing being rumored; at first he was incredulous and dismissed the report as a fabrication, but when he went out and heard and believed, he entered [his house], and at the same time he grabbed his beard with his hands and said, "What kind of things am I hearing? Was this stored up for our days? How have we sinned, that we should live to see such terrible things? Let no one hope for anything good from now on, since the Romans are trampling the city once again." Such things he said, and it was clear that he was in anguish over the things which were being marveled at by many; but where these things led, the account will relate in its proper place.

29. How the capture of the city was heard by the Emperor.

Then many hurried toward the emperor, who was staying at Nymphaion, and they strove with one another as to who would be the first to arrive and proclaim the good news. One outran them with great haste, not even carrying letters from the Caesar. And since it was not proper for anyone to hear the tidings before the emperor himself, and he was not able to gain an audience with the emperor, he went off and announced to the emperor's sister, Eulogia, that Byzantium had been clearly captured. ^C She, having immediately received the word, and having gone to the palace in the early morning contrary to custom, [begins...]

^A was clearly, in her manner, announcing things according to one's desire; yet she did not deem it fit to speak such news, for fear that he might suffer some sudden shock, and by hearing it unexpectedly, might lose his sleep all at once—acting with wisdom and not in the manner of women. For since the innate spirit, after food has been consumed, is occupied with digestion and withdraws inward, there is a necessity that the senses either lie idle in those who are sleeping, or be sluggish in those who are awake, not being dominant for them; and then, even if something should happen regarding the senses, they do not remain in their proper place in sleeping persons, and if they are pressed toward perception, if that which is perceived is ordinary and customary, they receive it suddenly, having been sluggish; but if it is otherwise strange, or on the contrary pleasant and unusual, they are not yet sufficiently able to take perception, and become disturbed, and [those who are] immediately disturbed in their soul, having been struck, cause a shock. At that time, therefore, she took thought for the safety of the emperor no less than for telling him pleasant things, and she managed a gradual awakening. For having grasped the greatest toe of his foot, she pressed it moderately with [her] fingers, as one would gently wake a person, and he woke up at once. And he, looking at the nun standing [there], began to inquire what had happened that she acted in such a way. She, with laughter and a cheerful face ^B, was immediately revealing the matters according to her mind, until his thinking should settle as is likely. But when he became settled and again asked to learn, longing for what was pleasant, as he suspected, then she added the "good news"—that the city had been captured and that the Caesar was living inside with the Scythian forces ^C—and that this was the "good news" from the one who had arrived, and concerning these things she asserted most strongly that as they were happening there, he was present. But when he also inquired whether this man had been sent by the Caesar, she said that she did not know, yet that the man himself being present was sufficient to answer. The emperor, however, pondering both the strangeness of the matter and indeed that the Caesar would not send [a messenger] for these things—also pondering the multitude of those who were following, as being less than [what was needed] to do these things, and as, had he wished, he would not have been able to, nor did he give himself over at all to the things being said. And [the thought occurred] that it might be a mockery, and [he feared] lest the one who planned this might be a fool. He therefore decided to sit and examine the one who had arrived, not in order to readily accept the things that were to be reported, but because he thought that the man, having been placed in fear of royal authority, would speak the truth, hoping to learn the truth. Therefore, at the emperor's command, he was brought in, and being questioned, he said, and

maintained constantly that he had seen the affair of the city's capture with his own eyes, describing minutely how each detail had occurred; by this he gained credit with many and moved ^A all to wonder and astonishment. But the emperor, wishing to appear to the crowd to know more than others—and especially in military matters—and considering with himself that if, in the end, this report should be found false, he would be branded with the mark of light credulity, nor would it be becoming for him to have dismissed the impostor's audacity once the lie was detected; yet if the truth of his words should become apparent in time and be confirmed by the consent of others who would shortly arrive, no harm would come to him by a brief delay of cautious suspicion (for the rewards ^B rightfully owed to the speed of one who had anticipated all others in bringing such joyful news could always be paid later), he ordered the man to be kept in custody in chains. Yet, because of this very report, whatever its ultimate truth might be, all were filled with joy; and with prophetic spirits, they anticipated the triumphal gladness with which they would be suffused once it was clearly established that the Italians had been driven from the city. But when, on the same day, many arrived sent by the Caesar, and among them one who brought the headpiece and sword of Baldwin as the most certain proof of the city’s recovery, along with the Caesar’s laurel-wreathed letters clearly affirming that the city had been recovered and was held by a Roman garrison, ^C the emperor doubted no longer, but, being now utterly persuaded, he bestowed more and greater rewards than he had first promised the messenger. He followed the leader and author of the success with the most ample thanks and praises he could; for he did not think it a small ornament added to his empire by such a renowned deed. And so he spent that day in the highest solemnity: having himself donned ^D magnificent robes, he gathered the nobles to him for the sake of celebrating their common joy, they themselves also arrayed in splendid and varied attire, and he delivered a speech of thanksgiving. Nor did he allow those who were absent to be without a share in his pleasure, but by letters sent everywhere—bearing the same sentiment as his speech—he exhorted all to offer thanks to God and to rejoice publicly.

30. Emperor’s address on the capture of the city.

"You know," he said to those present, "you men who are subjects of the Roman empire, all you nobles and those who are connected to us by blood, and the rest of the multitude who are gathered here: you know, I say, how long ago, when God was angry, our ancestors were driven from their homeland by the Italians as if by certain violent winds, and their territory was pressed into a narrow compass. And I pass over those ancient times, when the Roman empire had the Euphrates and the Tigris as its boundaries in the east, and in the west reaching to Sicily and the further parts of Apulia, and in the south it progressed as far as the Ethiopians, and toward the north to the regions touching the pole. I omit these things, mentioning only in passing what you have heard and learned by word of mouth: that within that sea, on the side of the continent, not only what can be traversed in a journey of two or three days, but what can be traversed in ten days and more, was in our power, besides all the islands, some of which are very extensive. But God willing, or rather permitting it in vengeance for the injuries done to Him, when our homeland—the very heart of the empire itself—was oppressed by the ultimate disaster, all the limbs of the commonwealth alike languished as if with a lethal disease, while some of them were occupied by the Italians, others by the Persians, the Bulgarians, the Triballians, and all the others...

divided them up, while some also, though owing allegiance to the Empire, had snatched them away and were acting as masters on their own account. Our own territories were defined as Nicaea, Prusa, and thirdly Philadelphia, along with the lands adjacent to them. What need is there to recount how the others were revived and are still being revived a little at a time, by the grace of God? Yet none of this could be kept secure while the Queen of Cities was lacking. For who among our contemporaries did not reproach us when we sent embassies, as if we were cityless people living, perforce, far from the imperial throne? ^A Therefore, when we sought through the stars to signify our homeland and to reclaim the rest from those who held them, the undertaking was not even reasonable. And because of this, though the emperors before us labored much, and we ourselves suffered not a few trials previously, nothing was achieved. For that men should keep watch in vain over a city being guarded, and that those attempting to seize it should labor in vain when it is within their reach, is most truly the work of God—God, who knows how to guard a city considered to be in danger and left unguarded, and how to deliver into the hands of enemies a city fortified with strong hoplites ^B if He abandons it to fall. For that those who had managed many and great affairs concerning it, and had passed through so many terrible things, should accomplish nothing—though they were many times more numerous than the inhabitants—was a sign that it was the work of God alone, and that it would be given solely by His mercy, for which the taking of it was also credited. Therefore, the mistress of compassion has arrived, and it is a strange thing that, while we are reigning, one might say that we possess something good. And indeed, it is just to give thanks now that we have recovered the homeland, and also to hope that, just as when it fell the rest collapsed with it, so now that it has been restored, there is no way that the others will not be restored as well. For justice will revolve in a backward motion, and the necks of many who were previously raging will (God willing) be bowed down to a lower state. If our fathers did not see this mercy of God, still it has come to pass for us to see, being their sons; for it is not upon persons, but upon generations that God’s favors and punishments are most fully bestowed. This was done also in the days of old. And to the fathers who had been promised that good land of old, long ago proclaimed ^D to Abraham as a state to be given...

^A to those soon to be delivered from Egypt, he caused the bones of the others to fall in the desert, but to their sons he fulfilled the promise, and the assurance did not fail. In such just measures and weights are the divine actions governed. Therefore, since God commanded the migration, not covered by the shade of leaves or branches in light huts (for these were in the olden days), but protected by the grace of God; and let one of the princes be sent from this very place, and let him take the houses and dwell there with all his household. If it should happen that the ancestral homes are still standing and those of the kin are still surviving, it would be well; but if not, let someone be chosen to find those that are suitable. For when God gives the grace, it was necessary to act according to his laws and to be eager to provide each person his share. For it is right to consider that the divine bestows blessings not only on us, but also on you; and just as it was a common lot to drink together the cup of the woe of banishment, so also they receive the blessing of being called back as a common gift. Others will follow in succession, and thus again what was emptied will be filled ^B with nameless and lowly people. However, one should not despise those who are here; for the security of those within is greatest if the surroundings are free from turbulence. These will be spared the turbulence if the inhabitants, together with the sent officials, truly value them. But these things will be spoken of and done in due time, by the mercy of God; but now, come, let us show gratitude—after God, to those through whom the grace was measured out to us, for it is just. Wherefore he immediately commands that thank-offerings be written, and those of the magnates who are sent are chosen, to whom he might entrust the distribution. For providing to the many was delayed, and his excuse was that since there was no one who took it by the sword, there was no one who could justly claim his own property in the city, if they happened to be present. For many of the common people still remained, even though the city had been held by the enemies for fifty-eight years. In which also all things would have remained if the emperors had had peace with them; for if not...

for the scarcity caused by the frequent battles, they would not have laid hands on the marvelous temples. Nevertheless, those holding the foreign parts, being ever in fear of being cast out of what did not belong to them, hastened, one after another, to grasp and steal away whatever foreign property they could get into their hands, though they mostly failed. ^A The emperor, having said and done these things, quickly sent to the Caesar, not just once nor all at one time, but sending many in succession, day after day, in order at once to learn from him as frequently as possible about every particular, and at the same time to give orders and arrange matters there, so that he himself might follow shortly with those about him; for he ordered that the palaces also be prepared. The nobles, for their part, each sent their own agents to request and take possession of their houses, for they were not to delay again once the emperor had taken action. These men, arriving, applied themselves to the tasks assigned to them, just as each had been instructed. The Caesar distributed the houses to the individuals according to their rank and dignity. ^B At the same time, he kept them constantly occupied, not allowing them even to catch their breath from their concerns, by day laboring, ^C as well as in the other anxieties of that place and time, so that he scarcely had space to breathe; intent by day on restraining the city's multitude. This multitude, consisting of Romans and Italians, he trusted the former, but watched the latter as suspects. There was a great mass of gathered plebs of a mixed sort, a mob mostly unwarlike, and occupied in various crafts to provide for their daily sustenance. Yet he was wary even of them, as they were, if they should become emboldened and prepare force (an easy thing, as the foreigners were uncertain of their status, fearing to be despoiled at any moment), formidable by their very numbers, while there were not enough armed men at hand to oppose them. ^D Therefore, although the mob seemed to acquiesce to their present lot, the Caesar was nevertheless not secure regarding them, but counting on uncertain outcomes, by day (as I began to say) he gave diligent care to suppressing disturbances and breaking up the assemblies of the many; this he achieved by traversing the squares with a suitable comitatus of armed men, and by carrying about the city a terrifying appearance of himself, striking a useful fear into them: by night he again ordered cohorts of guards to run through all the streets, and to inspect all the fora and alleyways, and to search diligently whether anyone had gone out from a house or had entered and was wandering into the city through the gaps in the walls, which lay open on every side and gave easy access. However, the flight of many of them daily, as they crowded wherever they could from that gathered multitude I mentioned, relieved the Caesar of a great part of his anxiety and rendered our people more secure.

31. How the emperor enters the city with the officials around him.

The emperor, having now sufficiently arranged everything, leading the whole retinue of nobles and familiars he had with him, and also his Augusta, his wife, and the tender shoot of the royal line from her, [Andronicus]»

whose name, indeed, also released his father from further anxiety over his namesake. The emperor, moreover, honored everyone around ^B him—for he was a lover of his father and mindful of him, setting his memory above all else—as well as the Grand Domestic, who was ever on his lips. Together with all the senate and the nobility, he took the path to the city, and having crossed the Hellespont, he journeyed thence toward Byzantium. Upon arriving and reaching the Golden Gate, he remained there for several days, keeping close watch and issuing timely orders so that the entrance into the city might be both godly and magnificent. He sent for the venerable icon of the pure Mother of God from the Pantokrator Monastery, which it is said was the work of the divine Luke, painted while she was present and beheld by him; it was subsequently given as a gift to the Augusta Pulcheria by her sister-in-law, the Lady Eudocia of Athens, a gift truly worthy to be both sent and received, arriving from Palestine. ^C Under her leadership, by whose grace he believed it had been opened to him and entrusted, he thought that entering the city was a sufficient way for him to show his gratitude to her. He also commanded one of the prelates who were present, George of Cyzicus, to don his stole, lead the solemn prayer, and fulfill the act of thanksgiving for the events that had taken place. The Golden Gate, therefore, having long been closed, was opened, and the prelate of the prayer began the service. The emperor and his entire retinue entered the city with slow and measured steps, his mind deeply intent upon God and offering the most profound profession of supreme gratitude, which was due to the Divine for such unhoped-for success, walking on foot and casting aside all the pomp of royal majesty, as if it were utterly incongruous for such a ceremony. It was ^D then the meridian hour and the height of the day’s heat, with the sun standing directly overhead and vibrating with fiery rays. Yet the devotion of those who celebrated the procession vied with the discomfort of the heat, as each one of them, and the Augustus above the rest, was prepared to endure willingly if his health suffered any harm from the intense vapor of the sun burning directly above them. As they were led in this slow gait to the Great Palace, the Blachernae was not yet fit to receive the emperor, for it was still full of smoke and Italian soot—which the cooks of Baldwin, from their great uncouthness, had smeared upon the walls of the palace, so that its purging was a task in itself. Furthermore, it was sufficiently secure for emperors who were for the first time entering a city whose affairs were in such a state of turmoil. The common people, rejoicing in the tranquility and seeing the Roman emperor for the first time in the palace, turned their astonishment into joy and hoped for the future, trusting that all things would turn out happily under his rule. It seems to me, moreover, that the Italians who remained in the city would also have been changed and satisfied by what had occurred in such a manner (for, serving such a master, they would not be disgraced), had not their native stubbornness blinded them to their own indifference.

^A Moreover, when that day had been consumed in triumphal applause and sacred hymns, the palace was secured by strong guards throughout the following night.

32. How the emperor conducted himself towards the Latin tribes after entering the city.

Early in the morning, the emperor gave his whole attention to deliberations on how to establish the affairs of the city, to fortify the citadel with guards, and to deal wisely with the leading men of the Italian tribes—these were the Genoese, the Venetians, and the third, the Pisans—so as to bring them under his direction. For if he could win over these groups, which were capable of the greatest actions in whatever direction they leaned, he would be able to keep the others quiet, even against their will. Therefore, he spent the whole day calling them in to conduct business, and by using the allure of better prospects, he drew them away from their kinship with their own people, little by little making them favorable to himself, and skillfully curbing their impulses through favors. These favors consisted of being permitted to dwell in a good part of the city, taking as much space as they desired, and following their own customary order under a governor sent by the common council of their own people, whom they might also refer to by their own laws, having immunity and freedom to use their ships for all purposes and to conduct their affairs with skill. These were the promises made to the Genoese, and similar favors were also extended to the Venetians and the Pisans—to the former under a *bajulo* (the Greek equivalent of which is *epitropos* [commissioner]), and to the Pisans under a consul (as we might say, an *ephor* or *aedile*), so that each might live according to their own laws, ^B transact their own business without hindrance, and dwell in freedom.

However, he could not fully trust the Genoese while they were confined within the city, because they were numerous and did not live together with the other two groups, but occupied separate quarters. He was not, however, displeased that they were diminished in number by being kept within. This policy of dividing the tribes, showing friendliness to those present while appeasing the impulses of those who were absent with gifts sent from afar, showed that he feared their coalition ^C and, more specifically, the fact that Baldwin had fled and joined Charles—a man haughty and harboring ambitions beyond his measure—and had struck a bargain, receiving Charles's daughter for his son, and pledging in the marriage contract the city of Constantinople as her dowry. Although the one who pledged it did not possess it, Charles nevertheless accepted it willingly, hoping that he would recover it by equipping a fleet, which he was at that time preparing. ^D

33. How the affairs of the city were ordered by the emperor. ^A It was, in the first place, the emperor’s task upon entering the city to bring the inhabitants of the suburbs inside, those who had previously dwelt near the sea. Second, to distribute hereditary property to the notables both inside and outside the city, as well as houses and lands for cultivation, while setting aside, however, that portion which in a spirit of grace he had reserved exclusively for those serving of their own free will, as a reward due to their zeal and benevolence. That portion consisted of the finest land, fertile in every kind of produce. He also excepted other parts that were very rich to be assigned to the monasteries. For it was his intention to unite the urban monasteries with those many others to be seen elsewhere throughout the East, which were wealthy and possessed enough to sustain a large multitude, thinking that in this way the abundance of the one might relieve the need of the other; this he considered the best method for the proper constitution of the city’s monasteries. He further decreed that to those invited to repopulate the city, places should be assigned where they might build, with a fixed tax to be paid to the treasury. ^B Before this, however, he instituted something even more worthy of mention: he decided to aid with royal support and favor the endeavors of those who sought to restore old and ruined monasteries to their former splendor. He also applied himself with great zeal to the repairing and strengthening of the city’s walls where they were gaping or beginning to decay, and to placing towers and ramparts for their defense, manned by quick and agile soldiers. For he understood very well that the Italians who had been driven out would not remain quiet, but would return as soon as possible with an armed fleet to attempt the recovery of the city they had lost. Thus he himself devoted his efforts to preparing and building a fleet. To provide for the naval service, he mustered thousands from the multitude that had gathered in the city from all regions. He did many other things as well, some out of necessity, others for the sake of causing consternation, thereby anticipating attacks.

34. What the councils of the high priests were regarding the Patriarch Arsenius. ^C It was, as it happened, a matter of concern to him that the Church was at that time devoid of a shepherd. Therefore, he gathered the bishops and held councils with them, wishing to learn what ought to be done. To some, then, it seemed that Patriarch Arsenius, who was still living, ought to be recalled; for they argued that the proceedings against him had not been conducted according to the canons; they maintained that it was necessary to persist in beseeching him, and not to let him go immediately, especially when he was without fault. Others, on the contrary, said that his own judgment of himself should stand; for his departure was sufficient evidence of his resignation, and his refusal to accept what was proposed, and his sending away of those who petitioned him, was a clear indication that he was rejecting the guardianship. ^D As these matters were being discussed and debated, the emperor appeared to listen to both sides, due to his concern for the affairs relating to him. For he believed that recalling him and placing him in charge of ecclesiastical matters would be beneficial if, under his patriarchate, matters of opinion...

^A regarding patriarchal authority might be strengthened by consent. For thus he could achieve what he had decreed, and at the same time remove for all people every occasion for offense or complaint. But again he feared that, if this hope failed, he might strike a great blow against his own affairs, and as if by stirring up some Camarina, might excite the most dangerous clouds of new tempests. On the contrary, if he persisted in keeping Arsenius far away and took care that another patriarch be elected, it occurred to him that it could indeed happen then, and be easily hoped for, that his designs to remove the ward from the hope of empire might succeed; nevertheless, he foresaw the disturbances that would arise from this, for those desirous of new things would not neglect a specious pretext to conspire against him; and the seditious efforts of these men would certainly gain favor among the populace, insofar as they would commend them under the most honorable guise of justice and religion in avenging the injury to a sacred head, a matter already very hateful. Suspended by these cares and ambiguous in either direction, he judged it best to leave the business, as if to the arbitration of fate, by allowing the bishops who had assembled to decide freely what they wished, supposing that—as is wont to happen—time itself and delay would bring forward something not inconvenient to the matter; and that this might last longer, he admonished the prelates who had been brought together ^B to take care to consider everything maturely, nor to bring their deliberation to a close until all of them should agree to a single harmonious opinion. He turned his own cares to the administration of pressing affairs, though not with his attention entirely averted from those things which were being done in the synod by the Fathers, whom he continued to observe with, as it were, furtive glances, while pretending to be occupied with something else.

35. How the Emperor sought to remove the young John from his path. And how the Italians were provided with a dwelling.

For the thing that was being plotted in his mind did not allow his thoughts to rest. ^C For it was no secret, from the suspicions that were appearing, that he was not kindly disposed toward the ward John, and was indeed applying himself to his circumvention, whence, drawing upon himself the crime of perfidy, he was being marked by the cross-eyed glances of most people who could not bear the indignity of the matter. It was agreed that he had severely punished on feigned charges certain men whose only fault was to have proclaimed John as emperor with a free voice; a colleague in supreme power, even in name, he could not bear to be associated (with himself). Nor did he hide his intention to reduce the boy to subordinate status and to exclude him entirely from any participation in the empire, and he considered his own fortune and safety to hinge upon this. ^D He was incited to this partly by men, and partly by circumstances. Eulogia, his sister, made no end of urging this iniquity. The boy Andronicus, son of the Emperor Palaeologus, growing day by day in promise and good character, by his silent appearance unceasingly goaded his father, as if begging him not to allow him to grow up a private citizen. By this he was so moved that he deemed it absolutely intolerable to see his dearest son excluded from the highest honor. Furthermore, a very vehement incitement to this most unjust machination was a huge ambition and an untimely pride, scorning to moderate itself and be contained within the bounds of due mediocrity, to which the recovery of the city—which was the principal seat of the empire—suggested some pretext and coloring to mask his greed, as if, having captured it, he had ascended the throne of the empire by right; and as if he had been summoned into it solely under his own auspices, so he ought to rule alone in it and from it. Moreover, he kept this intention hidden at first from the eyes of those who met him, in a way that was indistinguishable. Yet if any should look more deeply within, they might discern what was being plotted, both from other signs and from the fact that he did not bring John with him into the city

^A to his own quarters for habitation. He ordered that every race should have its own taxes and revenues, without being hindered.

36. Concerning the envoys sent by the emperor to the Pope and the Italians.

[P. 109] The emperor also sent envoys to the Pope with all speed, mollifying him with gifts. There were two envoys, one named Nicephoritzes and the other Alubardes, men who had previously served as secretaries to the Italian emperor Baldwin, but who were now accused of treason against the Romans. When they arrived in Italy, a grave danger befell them, in which not even the sacred title of envoy could save them from the worst of fates. But even if the emperor, in his own person, covered over the reproaches of treason with honors for those who had been sent from the city, they had nevertheless committed such great sins through the breaking of their oaths, that a penalty greater than what was being contemplated by the plotter was raised against them. Indeed, this was the source ^B of the great evils and intolerable confusion that befell the Romans. At that time, while trying to settle the affairs of the city as securely as possible, the emperor saw that the Genoese, both those already present and those expected to arrive, were too numerous and too insolent to be expected to submit in good faith to the Romans. Foreseeing that they might easily be incited to arms and rebellion by any light reason or pretext—being as they were arrogant and fierce men—he did not think it safe for them to dwell within the city itself, and he judged it necessary to set them apart in a place assigned to them. At first, indeed, he had moved them to Heraclea in Thrace; later, however, he judged it safer to settle them opposite, on the other side of the bay, near only the fortress of Galata. As for the Venetians and Pisans, since their number was not so great, he allowed them to remain within the city, but separated from one another and from others. Therefore, to forestall every danger as surely as he could, he ordered the immediate demolition and complete leveling of the fortifications, both the one constructed within the city at the maritime side of the market and the one outside in the suburb of Galata. Having thus stripped them of their ramparts, he commanded the Genoese to dwell opposite Pera, to the west, extending their houses in a very long row, and he ordered that tax and property assessments be provided to the others without hindrance.

For they were harsh in any case, and being further irritated by the loss of the city, they reached an even greater pitch of madness; upon seeing those who had been sent arrive, they were eager to punish them for the charges of treason. Consequently, they seized Nicephoritzes and, from feet to head, they flayed the man alive in a cruel manner, punishing him for the alleged crime and at the same time intending it as an insult to the one who had sent him. Alubardes, however, having learned what was being prepared for him, escaped the misfortune by a timely flight. And these were the events that befell the envoys sent to Italy in this manner.

III. What counsel the emperor took regarding the patriarch Arsenius.

^A The emperor, governed by his thoughts, and at length understanding that the affairs of the Church could by no means be set in order without a patriarch, deliberated with himself how he might obtain for the vacant see a patriarch, and at the same time have matters proceed according to his own intended plan. For he perceived that if one of these succeeded while the other failed, his position would necessarily limp. Indeed, he reasoned that if the patriarch were restored, he himself would be hindered in his designs, and he feared that he would fall from the greatest hopes into an equal misfortune; but if the patriarch were left where he was, and he himself enacted what he wished, he reckoned that he would scarcely be equal to the immense envy and the assaults that would erupt from such actions. For he knew that many would be ill-disposed toward him, imminent as they were for new developments, and would have a credible pretext for inciting a powerful faction, masking the hidden causes of their hatred—envy and ambition—with a publicly plausible and seemingly religious zeal to defend against injury and restore to the usurped throne the patriarch who had been exiled without cause. And they would likely boast that the emperor had wished to remove, by keeping him far away, a troublesome arbiter whom he knew well would never acquiesce to his ungrateful and unjust schemes. ^C And because he had preferred an illegitimate monarchy to the legitimate college of supreme power, he had also preferred an illegitimate supreme ecclesiastical magistrate, since from such a person, being as he was, he had hoped for support similar to himself. And by a double and most wicked injury committed against the father of sacred things, whom he had circumvented, and against the child prince, whom he had supplanted, he would show that he held impious opinions concerning God, as one who seemed to think that God either did not see the sins committed against him, or that He connived at these crimes, never exacting penalties for them. From these circumstances, it was evident that either through their own likelihood or through the artifices of his adversaries, a great disturbance would arise among the people, and there would be excited such a fierce conflagration of civil discord that the danger would be that his own head and family, together with the republic itself, might be consumed. Reflecting on such things and fearing them, the emperor desired to connect things that could not be connected, namely, the restoration of the patriarch and the exauctoration of the legitimate prince. But this was to weave a web, not by joining flax to flax, but by interlacing different materials that did not naturally cohere. Having proposed this, he set out above all to probe the mind of the patriarch, to see if the old man could be persuaded to leave the affairs of the child John in suspense and uncertainty, as they then were, and to agree to come to the city, and having ascended the patriarchal throne in his true metropolis, allow himself ^D to be softened so as to crown him there again with the most solemn pomp and ceremony. Nor did he despair that the matter could be proven acceptable to him, whatever had conflicted in the former coronation, since the cause was now suitable, as he who was the first of the emperors to have entered the city, captured under his sole auspices, would also be the first to be crowned there. If these things could be obtained from Arsenius, there was hope that he would agree in other matters as well, and that once what the emperor had planned was accomplished, he would acquiesce in the deeds. He found, moreover, three reasons that led him to hope that Arsenius would now be easier to persuade in these matters than before. The first was that it was likely he would be weary of so long an exile, and that by this weariness he would be softened to agree gladly to his return. The second was that it was scarcely doubtful but that

^A he would be glad to have the opportunity offered to him to prevent the evil of another being chosen patriarch while he was still alive, as had happened once before. The third was love of his country, by which he must necessarily be drawn to desire his arrival in the city, now recovered; just as it was probable that one so affected would by no means reject the offered condition of returning with the greatest splendor to his most beloved country, especially when he understood that if he rejected it, no hope remained for him of ever revisiting his native city. But if, when thus invited, he could not bring his mind to accept what was offered and promise what was sought, nevertheless that very humble invitation would serve as a suitable excuse before the people to turn away all blame of neglected duty from the Emperor, and to exonerate the whole odium upon him who, when summoned, had refused.

In about this manner the Emperor, having weighed the sum of his deliberations, entered the synod, which was split in two by contrary opinions—some recalling, some excluding, Arsenius—and he himself joined those who were recalling him, and by the accession of his vote, as if in a moment, he tipped the equilibrium of the until-then ambiguous deliberation toward the other side, with those also soon joining who had excluded Arsenius, especially when, through the synod, by the Emperor’s efforts, both their security and their honor were abundantly shielded by the decree of oblivion for what had recently been done, and by the sanctification that it would be to the prejudice of no one, whether it were called injustice or rashness, by which Arsenius had been deposed or Nicephorus elected. Communion was also suddenly restored to those who had been excommunicated on that account. It was also decreed that those ordained by Nicephorus should be accepted, so that the Church might not be rent by untimely moroseness. Having determined these things, the Fathers of the synod sent to Arsenius to invite him to return. When he heard them, he at first appeared to take it ill that he was only being invited, and not also being asked to grant forgiveness for the sins committed against him, alleging that the invitation was merely from those who professed themselves conscious of no sin; for if they acknowledged the fault, they would certainly have begged for pardon. However, when the legates, warned by this exception of his, had also applied their entreaties, the old man, softened, showed himself ready to go where he was called. And in actual fact, he betook himself by a journey partly by land and partly by sea to the estates of Rufinus, either for the sake of resting there a little while, or to respond more clearly and more certainly from a closer distance when he had ascertained more distinctly what was being sought.

2. How the patriarch, having been recalled, is brought into the city, and crowns the Emperor again.

^B There then, the patriarch having met with the embassies sent both by the Emperor and by the synod, and after a careful debate held on both sides by all, having partly granted and partly promised what was demanded, he crossed over quickly, and, having entered the city with the votes and calculations of all now in agreement, he occupied the patriarchal throne again. There, the Emperor, after he had diligently apologized for what had been done, reverenced him humbly and treated him with exquisite honors, and sent him into possession of the revenues and gifts liberally bestowed by him upon the Church. And he restored the sacred equipment and ecclesiastical furniture, which had been diminished by many adversities through the Italians, and reformed it to its former state, having set over the care of this matter the monk Rucha, an industrious man. ^C He adorned the altar anew; he rebuilt the ambo, the solea, and other things at royal expense; furthermore, he furnished the house of God with veils and sacred vessels to a becoming appearance of elegance. He also added new estates to the Church, besides those he had previously assigned for the nourishment and stipends of the chanters and sacred ministers, so that they, suffering no want of necessities, might not perform their duties more negligently. All those

things he received, as if they were done to the honor of God, and he considered the benefits conferred upon him as though they had been bestowed for his own sake. ^A Hence he wished to crown the giver, and he desired to consign to oblivion the things done against him by the bishops. As for those who were ordained by Nicephorus, he granted them all the functions of the priesthood, reserving only the right of concelebrating with himself; in all other respects, he treated them as equal to the rest, with the same rights. He held, in fact, that it was right to consider valid those things which had been done regarding them, and that he himself would be in agreement with it, provided that he accepted their communion at the altar. And since it was necessary to deliberate also about crowning the Emperor a second time, he readily consented to this as well. And so the appointed Lord’s day arrived, and he crowned him magnificently in the holy temple. There was no mention at all of John; rather, he had further gratified Caesar Alexius, so that because the city had been captured through him, he should be commemorated in the *synaptae* directly after the emperors and the patriarch.

3. How the Emperor sent embassies to the Tochari to form alliances, and to the Ethiopians.

[P. 146] Then, indeed, as the Emperor’s affairs had settled down well and as he desired, embassies were sent out to those far away, namely to the prince of the Tochari, Chalau, and to the Ethiopians. For he had the Sultan of the Persians, Azatinus, with him, living a most slothful life in the city, spending all his days in the intersections of the streets in feasting and drinking; for as the city was still empty of people, it happened that the streets were like a desert, and, observing that he could enjoy that solitude freely, he lived there as if in the countryside, far from observers, and in safety with his kin and the great men of his people and retinue, sitting at tables set up in public, celebrating daily bacchanals and openly gorging himself with wine with barbaric impudence. He had, therefore, the embassies I mentioned sent to them, and sought to receive others in return. To Chalau, he sent the monk and priest Princeps, to deliver his illegitimate daughter Maria, whom he had fathered with the Diplobatatzina, as a wife promised to him. ^B And Princeps, who was at that time the archimandrite of the Monastery of the Pantokrator, escorted the maiden with great display, luxury, and all kinds of wealth, carrying with him also a portable temple made of thick silk veils, having the icons of the saints fashioned in gold, supported by crosses and cords, and precious sacred vessels for the needs of the holy sacrifice. And thus the union was prepared with greater magnificence, even though Chalau died before they could reach them, and the maiden, having arrived later, was married to his son and successor, Abaga, who had been left as his heir in the government. But as for the Sultan of the Ethiopians, another need of the Em-

-^Aperor compelled him to enter into a treaty. For one of the Comans who had been sold into slavery—a man who, in his own nature, was sluggish in his impulses and soft, but who had sought to rise in status for a prudent reason—was near to receiving praise. For the climes of the earth that lie opposite one another, the northern and the southern, have innate powers that produce contrary dispositions in both body and soul, just as they produce different temperaments; in these not only can one find evident differences between brute animals of the same species, but also among humans. For in the north, animals are whitened, while in the south they are blackened. [P. 117] Humans in the north are, in other respects, unintelligent and scarcely rational; among them there are no logical sciences, no physical studies, no knowledge, no prudence, no economic organization of life, no mechanical crafts, and none of the other things by which men are distinguished from brute beasts. They possess, however, rash impulses and a readiness for battle, and they are easily stirred up if someone incites them, having a reckless and bacchanalian attitude toward one another, and they offer oblations to Ares. In the south, the opposite is true in every respect. For they are naturally gifted and exceedingly intelligent, and they are excellent in politics, the arts, rational disciplines, and in deliberations for battles; they would rather live in peace, preferring to have few things than to busy themselves over many. One who reflects on this physically might blame the sun: for the fact that it shines only a little and for a short time in the north means it does not heat the brain in a moderate way, from which natural intelligence is derived, while it compresses and hardens the skin and the limbs. On the other hand, in those other regions where the sun shines for a longer time, it heats the body to the point of intelligence, but it renders the whole of the body lax in terms of manliness; for natural reason teaches that the soul is transformed along with the body. For these reasons, the Ethiopians formerly held the Scythians in high regard, acquiring them unto slavery and otherwise employing them as soldiers on their behalf. At that time, since a Scythian had risen to the very authority among them, the Scythian people were sought after to form a military force, which they could not otherwise transport and purchase unless someone were to approach the Euxine Sea through the strait. The Emperor, not deigning to do this, rendered it impossible. For this reason, he bestowed many gifts upon him, to the end that the...

^B Other utilities of the Ethiopians impelled them to reach a treaty with the Emperor. He was of the Coman race, sold long ago into slavery, a condition which, once changed into royal power, he exerted himself with prudent and praiseworthy counsel to make the route easy for his own kin, feeling that they were in need of such assistance. For in truth, the northern and southern nations are not more opposite by their location than by their natural disposition and quality; their affections, both bodily and mental, are utterly contrary and diametrically opposed, on account of the difference in temperament and climate that intervenes between the two regions; tokens of which are seen in brute animals, which born and raised in the northern regions differ in no small way from those of their own genus born and nurtured in the southern regions; indeed, the very color of their bodies differs, being generally white in the north and black in the south. But the difference of mind in men is of greater moment, for those in the north are dull and scarcely make use of reason, among whom you would seek in vain for logical or physical disciplines, or for knowledge, for in their case, their works, when it comes to prudence, do not even possess the reason to prepare necessary food or appropriate clothing; neither crafts, nor mechanical arts, nor other things by which men differ from beasts are found among them. Conversely, those of the north are lively, sharp, and project themselves toward the contempt of danger; they are fond of battles, irritable, and if anyone provokes them, they rush with fanatic impulse into mutual slaughter—a race absolutely martial and bloodily pugnacious. All things among those of the south are the opposite; they are skillful, gentle, exceedingly cunning, consultors of political policy, industrious in the arts, capable of rational discipline, fertile in counsel, and in every occasion they see in a moment what is best to be done; conversely, they are lazy regarding labors and soft regarding battles, preferring to live in peace and wanting to be free from the effort of striving. If anyone were to attribute the cause of such discrepancy solely to the sun, he would not, if I am not mistaken, wander far from the truth. For since its rays illuminate the northern regions for only a short time and rarely, and obliquely, they do not bestow upon the human brain that measure of vital heat which would be required for performing the functions of the mind and for the sharpness of common sense. The natural cold of that sky, free from the admixture of solar warmth, condenses and hardens the skin of the bodies, and brings a thickness and solidity to the limbs. Conversely, under the meridian circle, or in lands approaching it, the sun, hanging more frequently and constantly and burning from above, melts the bodies subject to it and renders the limbs flaccid and languid for every alacrity of movement and boldness of battle. That souls are affected and altered by a certain consent with the qualities and temperament of bodies is taught by natural reason, with experience certainly supporting it. For these causes, the Ethiopians formerly took great pleasure in the abundant supply of slaves that they could use for every laborious ministry as well as for contention and the impulses of battle, which were necessary for defending the borders of their military; wherefore it is less surprising that the man who now ruled them, himself an outsider by birth and origin, should have sought for his own sake—and for the sake of the people over whom he ruled—the fellowship and custom of his own race, especially that military hand which he required, which could be supplied to him from nowhere else but from the youth bought and summoned from there. But since he could not safely transport the Scythians to himself except by ships sent to the Euxine—the mouth of which sea would undoubtedly be in the power of the Constantinopolitan city looming over them—the prudent barbarian easily saw that he could by no means obtain what he desired in any other way than by the grace...

and benefit of the ruler there. Wherefore, in order to enjoy him as a pacified and benevolent friend, he endeavored through many embassies and gifts sent along with them to attain his end. Nor did he fail in his wishes: for, with the emperor’s consent, those sent by the ruler of the Ethiopians were freely traveling into the Euxine [Black Sea] with much gold, bringing with them a very large number of Scythian youths purchased at great cost; which we know happened often, ever since the emperor, charmed by the allurements of the gifts, allowed that route to be opened and safely frequented. ^B

4. Concerning the giraffe, what kind of animal it is.

^C In the gifts provided for this reason there was also a giraffe, a marvelous and unusual animal, about which I wish to say a few words—for those who have seen it a reminder, and for those who have not seen it a lesson. Its body is not of great size, being roughly that of the large donkeys we call pack-asses. It is covered in a hide similar to a leopard’s, white and speckled with reddish spots, in the shape and size of scales. The posture of its body resembles that of a camel, rising from the hindquarters up to the shoulders, with the front legs exceeding the back ones in length by quite a bit. Its neck is extended to a great length like that of a crane and rises up to the head, giving the animal a haughty appearance. Its head is small and camel-like in shape. Its belly is white, and from its neck, along its entire ridge, and reaching to its tail, which is moderate in size, a black line is drawn perfectly straight, as if by a measuring rule. Its feet are slender like those of a deer, and cloven-hoofed. It is a tame and obedient animal, ready to ^D move whither one wishes, eating grass, and feeding on bread and barley just as a sheep. Its disposition is gentle. Its means of defense against those who annoy it—for nature has not denied to almost all living beings weapons with which to repel injuries—should anyone harass it, is not with a hoof like horses, nor with a horn like oxen (for it is not crowned with horns), nor with a bloody and terrifying tooth like boars, nor with claws like cats, but [only] with its teeth—I believe, through moderate bites, just enough to drive away an offender without causing injury; for no one has been bred with such teeth as those that nature arms such creatures with. This creature, as if it were a beast from that region brought to the emperor, was a daily spectacle and a joy to passersby as it was led through the marketplace.

5. How the Ethiopians, having increased, performed their deeds in Syria. And what happened concerning Noga.

[P. 119] But these things were done by the ruler with the conviction that they would be profitable to our affairs. And as much as the proceeding was aimed at peace, in other ways it caused very great harm; for by the constant transporting of the youths from the northern regions, a multitude of them collected in time and grew into a military force, which augmented the insolence of the Ethiopians and caused them to leap beyond what had been intended, so that often, relying on their own security,

^A they would carry out wars against foreign lands, and act like men against the Christians. For while the Italians held the entire coastline of Syria, governed Phoenicia, and possessed the power of Antioch itself—disputing from a position of superior strength, and holding the regions of Palestine in the belief that they were holy, and quite rightly so, given the Savior's sojourns there and the miraculous nature of the economy of salvation—the local peoples themselves, taking heart in the forces assembled from the Scythians, sallied forth and turned all that land of the Mysians—as the saying goes—into spoil. Until little by little—for the Italians could not possibly make a treaty with them, as they were their enemies and were called enemies of the holy cross—they ^B expelled them from those very great cities and razed them to the ground. And now the illustrious Antioch lies fallen, and Apamea lies fallen; Tyre and Berytus have been razed, and Sidon suffers the same fate. Elsewhere, Laodicea laments. Tripoli and Ptolemais, the great cities of the Italians, are reckoned as if they had never been. And indeed Damascus, the most beautiful, once the boundary of the Roman empire toward the East, has been completely obliterated, and in general, except for the regions that pay tribute to the Armenians, there is nothing left standing. The countless multitude of people who inhabited those fertile provinces has been scattered into every land, living in miserable exile, save for those who ^C have fallen by the laws of war or have been consumed by tyrannical torments for the sake of the Christian faith, because they refused to renounce it. See what the Christian commonwealth has reaped from our own lack of judgment, or from our malice, or from our independent impulses and desires! Yet we still endure the boldness of the Tochars—not indeed because of our power ^D or bold armies, but through friendly, or rather slavish, submissiveness. We show them support and frequently offer them gifts of the finest and greatest kind, such that another, second alliance was later formed with the Western Tochars, who appeared from nowhere and occupied the northern parts with a very great force. By an agreement with their ruler, Noga, the Emperor gave him another of his daughters, born from a concubine, Euphrosyne by name—from which it came about that they held in friendship the very things which it would have been difficult to acquire through the toil of war.

6. How the three queens were joined with husbands, and with what sort.

As for the Emperor, he subsequently decided to get rid of the queens—who were also the full sisters of the boy John—since they were thought to hold a claim to a share of the empire from their father. And for this reason, pondering the matter deeply, he did not [wish] to join them to any Romans, for fear that, should they be given Roman husbands, they might provide some [opportunity] for anyone to hatch new plots.

^A For one of them, he joined in wedlock to a noble Latin from the Morea named Maio de Belicurto, who had arrived in Constantinople; and the second to a Latin magnate—whom they would honorably style a "Count"—named Vintimilia, who had come at that time from Genoa to the emperor’s court following rumors of his reputation, and having bestowed upon him a wife and honored him with appropriate gifts, he sent him back. He gave the third to the Bulgarian Sphentisthlabos, a prince of the mountain regions of Mysia near the Haemus. And thus, being rid of them and having shaken off the cares that had attended them, he turned his attention to other affairs.

7. Concerning the Empress Anna Alamanna.

However, since she prudently feared to what lengths an uncontrollable love, incensed by the fury of despair, might break out in tyrannical license, she thought that the best course of action was to adopt a plan to soothe his burning desire. She told the Emperor that she was in no way averse to marriage with him, if some way could be found to enter into it legitimately and holily. Therefore, he should look to see if he might properly release himself from the marriage in which he was currently entangled. Once freed from such a tie, she would afterward, as it was honorable, do so not unwillingly. ^D Michael pricked up his ears at these words, and, having his mind excited by the hope held out to him, he eagerly turned to contriving, and then artfully insinuating, plausible reasons for repudiating the wife he currently had in his household. He said he did not deny that Theodora (for that was the Augusta’s name) was a woman in whom one could require nothing lacking in regard to the nobility of her royal birth, the honor of her chastity, or the holiness and affection of her character, and that he therefore confessed her most worthy to reign alongside him. Yet, he said, one must consider the grave necessity currently imposed upon Roman affairs by the terrible danger threatening them, that of cautiously anticipating the anger of the Latins, who were raging because Constantinople had recently been snatched from them. They were powerful in resources and numbers, and were also collectively incited by a plausible cause, having been driven from their long-standing possession and despoiled of many things which they had long held as their own and most dear. It was reported that the whole name of the Italians was stirred up, and that they were being seen arming themselves

with such a fleet, that the Roman Empire, in the state it is now, could hardly muster anything strong enough to oppose it. And there was no doubt that in terms of naval equipment we were not their equals, and we could only hope to trust in our land forces, which were already sufficiently occupied by the movements arising in Bulgaria; from there we heard that the ruler of the Bulgarians, Constantine, was being constantly stirred up against us by the most fervent instigations of his wife Irene, who was very hostile toward us, and was threatening an incursion into our lands through Thrace. ^A In such a great multitude and rage of the most ferocious enemies rising up against us from every side, who does not see that it would be a prudent course — for the sake of a republic surrounded on all sides — to strive to diminish their numbers, either by drawing some of them to our alliance, or at least by detaching them from the common conspiracy of the others? ^B It is already sufficiently clear that among the Latins, by their dominion and martial power, the kinsmen of Empress Anna are to be numbered. Furthermore, those people, already sufficiently inclined of their own accord by the communion of name and race toward the side of our enemies, would more savagely move against us for their own causes, namely, to demand back and bring home their kinswoman as if she were being held by us in unworthy custody, unless we took precautions in time and sought a remedy from the very cause of the evil, by contracting a timely alliance. By this, the anger of the kinsmen of the Lady Anna would not only be disarmed by removing the incentives for their hatred, but their love and aid would also be conciliated, as being then, by the necessity of a marriage with the sister of Manfred and daughter of Frederick, already as it were their own household members.

While the Emperor was revolving these things in his mind and attempting to justify them with sophistic reasons (for he was driven by an insane love that burned him within, not feeling that he was being mocked by Lady Anna and deluded by the empty image of a marriage that would never succeed), the Empress Theodora, hearing of it, bore it heavily, as was to be expected. For what an intolerable kind of insult it would be for her, the legitimate wife who had borne to her husband the Emperor three sons — first Manuel, snatched away by fate, second Andronicus, still surviving and educated regally by his father, and third Constantine, born in the purple there after they had migrated to Constantinople, and hence called Porphyrogenitus — to be repudiated after such great merits for no discovered fault, to be stripped of her husband, the empire, and all honor, to be cast away, and to see a rival intruded into her place on the throne of the empire. ^C Anxious from this fear, she sent to the patriarch, begging that those sent in her name should supplicate him that he might ward off such an atrocious injury from her, and deign by his authority to deter the Emperor from daring to mock the divine laws by exchanging wives so wantonly at his pleasure. ^D The patriarch, hearing of this, was extremely astonished that such things were being contemplated and attempted by the Emperor, who was openly panting after forbidden things and not fearing to rush into the service of his desires by trampling upon the laws, of which degree of wickedness he had not previously believed him capable. Wherefore, thinking that he who was breaking out into such shameless audacity should be chastised not gently, he rebuked him most gravely, partly by upbraiding him and partly by reproving him, with the threats of divine wrath also held over him. At the same time, he removed and blew away, like a spider's web, the pretexts alleged for his wanton licentiousness, wisely warning him that to fear the power of men and the divinity of God and the watchful vengeance upon crimes, and yet to spurn it with audacious license, is the behavior of one who judges most poorly of truly terrible things; being foolishly fearful of the former, but perversely secure regarding the latter. Whatever spectra of terror those who are perversely fearful may eventually invent for themselves, to revere the divine laws is the only true security. He should therefore cease to contrive vain things, and suppress his empty trepidation with a just and holy fear of God. These things and those consistent with them...

the Emperor, ^C fearing the Patriarch—who was a person worthy of such matters, and was clearly threatening to cut him off like a putrid member from the body of Christ if he persisted in these plans, rejecting all healing—or rather being confused by the awareness of a base desire and despairing of the outcome of his undertaking (as he realized too late) and the superior power of that man, and furthermore fearing that he might revive old grievances of the patriarch against him concerning the removal of John from the college of the empire, and clearly understanding at last that as he attempted in vain to deceive those who were perceptive, the ill-concealed fraud having broken forth into public knowledge, he stayed his oars, so to speak, and, as if checking himself from a course rashly begun, he "leaned upon the prow," as the saying goes, striving backwards, having taken ^D a new plan from the situation, namely to send back the Lady Anna, who had been equipped with abundant provisions for her journey to her own people, while requesting that in exchange for her, the Caesar who was held captive by her brother Manfred be liberated; for the Despot Michael, his father-in-law, had captured him and sent him thither, as has been said before.

Furthermore, that this anxiety which the Emperor displayed—concerning the need to take precautions lest the relatives of the Empress Anna conspire with the other Latins—was nothing but a hollow and unlikely pretext, cloaked in crafty simulation for the sake of the base love with which he was inflamed, was clearly apparent to those who accurately knew the state of affairs in Italy at that time.

8. Concerning the brother of the Lady Anna, Manfred, and Charles.

For Frederick and Manfred—the former of whom we have said was Anna's father, and the latter her brother—had both defected from the Pope and the Pope’s party, and, as they put it, being excommunicated by their Church, they held their own affairs separately. For they did not wish, like others, to be obedient and submissive to the commands and decrees of him who directed the Church; rather, they aspired to and usurped a license, subject to no one, of acting and deciding as they pleased, and thus to rule in Sicily and the surrounding regions with full authority, acknowledging no superior. The ^B Pope, suffering injuries from these things, having found an energetic man, a brother of the King of the Franks who held the rank of count—Charles—entrusted to him the war against them as if they were apostates, appointing him their king and inflicting upon them from that point an undeclared war. ^A How, then, could they who were so deeply at variance with Charles ever be going to engage in war alongside the Emperor?

Nevertheless, the project that was being considered was warded off, and the Emperor remained on his path and attended to his own affairs. And these matters were the weaving of plots with his commanders, so that the city might be rebuilt with all speed, while it was unclear what the Latins were planning concerning it (for there was fear that they might attack secretly), and so that it might be guarded for the Romans while the others were standing over it, and so that, should they appear, they would not plunder it by attacking with greater force out of necessity. For he would not rest even a little, nor did the others…

… ^A of those sufficient for the cultivation of the fields, wherever they might be, and to those by whom they were held—I mean those within the city—that they might have the means to farm, sowing and reaping so that there would be sufficient food for the people. [P. 125] In addition to this, salted provisions were brought in beforehand, partly of pork and partly of sheep's milk, and a vast quantity of hay remained for the horses. There was also enough for those farming inside the city to obtain what was needed for human consumption and for the animals, such that they had enough to provide adequate nourishment. The hides of bulls ^B were placed upon the planks, so that the enemy, by setting fires, might not cause them to burn. The work of the planks was thus carried out, and the towers were heightened by about three cubits, and the walls took on a height proportional to the towers; the rest was left ^C to be done in due time. As for the lightly armed soldiers who were to inhabit the city and were kept there out of great necessity, he assigned places in the city to very many Laconians who had later arrived from the Morea, providing them room to dwell as if they were natives, and he bestowed upon them annual stipends and many other honors, both within and without the city, for he used them as men possessing valuable experience in wars.

9. How the walls facing the sea were heightened with planks, and why. And concerning the Emperor's preparations.

It seemed necessary, therefore, to meet the impending threats by raising the city's walls with all speed, especially those facing the sea, which were naturally low because there was mastery of the sea at the time when Constantine, who first built them—a man whose deeds were no less worthy of reverence than his piety—was the sovereign. But as the occasion pressed, and since they lacked the stone and lime to carry out the reconstruction, they used wide, long planks along with strong beams to hold them against the pressure, and thus heightened both the towers and the walls. To be sufficiently supplied with those who would hold out within, he brought in from outside a ^D large number of light-armed soldiers and stationed them within the city, in dwellings near the pomerium; for there was no need for heavy armor or other heavy equipment for those who would fight from protected positions, guarded by the battlements of the walls. For sorties, should the necessities of war require them, and for open engagements in the field with those besieging, the cataphracts from the Emperor's larger camps were ready to assist. He provided also that these urban garrison troops would never lack food, however long the siege lasted, but that there would always be an abundance from which the necessities of life might be supplied to them from the city; for this purpose, he brought into the city a number of cattle sufficient for the cultivation of the suburban fields, by whose labor the industrious farmers, in plowing, sowing, and harvesting, might produce enough grain as was needed for the rations of those living in the city, and also—as they were likewise providing for the care of animals—to bring in the aforementioned salted meats and sheep's milk, and to keep enough hay for the horses. With regard to the Gasmulic and Hybrid...

^A troops, whom the Italian tongue would call mixed (for they were born of Romans and Latins), he found rest in sending them out on ships; for they possessed the prudence and sagacity of the Romans for warfare, as well as the impetuosity and arrogance of the Latins. He equipped a modest fleet and retook the closer islands, assigning them wages from the common treasury and increasing their zeal with gifts, while receiving in return greater labor and service from their diligence. For truly, he possessed a generosity toward all, and he drew it from both sources in great abundance; yet I know not whether by nature he was such, or if he assumed this spirit of generosity for other great considerations—creating compulsory goodwill, as if he had not ruled unjustly—or, for a third reason, by comparing himself to the favors of former emperors, even if he did not benefit them to the same degree, yet he did so nonetheless. ^B For a time, he was compelled to use these methods toward the emperors, lest he appear to be practicing rule only theatrically. For as the sun is not desirable if it does not offer its rays to the earth and to all humans and animals, neither does a real emperor appear to rule unless he benefits his subjects. "Whoever, while reigning, is stingy in giving, is managing a stage-performance of kingship, not a kingship." ^C Proof of this are the Agamemnon, Oenomaus, Oedipus and his descendants, and Adrastus, King of Argos, on the stage, and the rest—that I might not list each of the kings on the stage one by one. For when would one receive well-being from them, or be benefited, when they are merely acting out the roles of kings? But for those, it is possible to excuse oneself and avoid the censure of the crowd; for they are mere appearances of personas and not persons, and it is necessary that they benefit only by appearances. But for these individuals, what excuse is left if they do not give? And if, indeed, they are merely masking themselves as kings without being true kings, then what reason is there for them to be honored? For honor belongs to a king who is truly ^D reigning and not reigning theatrically. Seeing these things, and looking more from a position of anxiety at those who had been benefited by the departed emperors, he was pricked by his own conscience; and he did distribute benefits, though not as much as they, partly out of necessity and the fear of the reproaches that faced him as if they were present before his eyes, and partly—

^A as some say—the beginning was the silencing of the memory of him, so that people would not even suppose him to be a co-emperor. For it was inevitable that, since he was being crowned for the second time, he should also be honored and acclaimed with the other by the patriarch who was performing the crowning in a rather quiet manner; and it was easy for the rest also to be added, so that not even hope would be left.

By these reasonings the emperor was outmaneuvered—for the love of monarchy was inflaming him, and he valued fleeting glory more than the fear of God because of his craving for greater power—and he formed a plan, truly most shameful and truly far from God. He sent out orders to blind the child, a tender young boy who had ^B hardly yet learned anything fully except how to rejoice or feel sorrow, and who placed on an equal footing both ruling and being ruled, and who trusted only the patriarch and those who managed his affairs, and who did not even know what an oath was—a form of trust from which he himself derived confidence, not that he would be safe, but that those around him would keep him safe. Thus, as was commanded from the beginning, the boy who had just passed beyond infancy was deprived of his sight, the only show of humanity by those who served this foul crime being ^C that they did not pierce his eyes with iron heated in a furnace, but...

[P. 127] ...things in such a way that the evidence of the facts would be apparent, and people would speak of them with resentment, fearing as he did both the necessity of avoiding this ignominy and the inclination of his own good nature, which could not endure to misappropriate the lives of miserable men by withholding the wages justly due to their laborers, which the most ancient law forbids—with additional spurs, moreover, to a disposition not naturally inclined to well-doing. But these things perhaps we discuss in vain and inappropriately. Suffice it, therefore, to have demonstrated thus far that the desire to do good is conjoined with supreme power. With this he, being sufficiently endowed, sent gifts of no small value even to illustrious men throughout Italy, especially those ^D of the ecclesiastical order, long angling for their useful favor for the secret opportunities of plans and desires which he revolved in his mind.

10. How the emperor, in order to remove John from his path, blinded him.

One of these was a matter fixed and deeply rooted in his mind for some time: the removal of the ward, whose desire—hitherto somehow concealed—he now saw to be a convenient opportunity in the fullness of time, to bring out into the open. He thought it absurd and highly inconvenient to keep him as a colleague in the empire, nor was there anything more tolerable or easier than the saying that two heads cannot be covered by one cap. For besides the fact that he thought his own principate would thus be unstable and not at all secure—since the wills of men were divided, with some favoring one of the two Augusti and others the other, and there was a fear of the disturbance of the whole commonwealth and the inconveniences that follow from the rule of many—he thought it completely expedient to root out the seeds of innovation already in the minds of many who were planning dangerous ventures under the confidence of the boy, at the risk of the boy himself, but especially of Michael; for he had been crowned once and twice, without any acclamation or indeed any mention of him as a colleague in the empire; hence it was inevitable that this honor of his should gradually slip away and fade, so that it might be easy to add what was lacking, to finish the work already highly constructed, and to lay as it were the final hand upon the completed work, removing all hope for the future. Such were the impious thoughts that prevailed in Michael's mind, trampling upon the reverence for justice and equity, while insane ambition and blind love of principate urged him to prefer fleeting glory to the fear of God. Therefore, by these impulses, an attack was launched upon a crime as monstrous as it was hideous and hateful to God, as the emperor sent those who, by his orders, were to blind the child—still very tender, and not yet knowing, because of his age, what joy or pain was, and to whom it was all the same whether he ruled or was subject—a child who had scarce passed beyond infancy, ignorant of the difference between such things, yet relying solely on the faith and providence of the patriarch, knowing not what an oath was, nor the power of that religion, which not he himself, but those who had been concerned for his protection and security, had hoped for in vain. Therefore the little one, having but slightly passed beyond infancy, was deprived of his sight; the ministers of this barbarous command showing only this bit of humanity, that they did not pierce the tender eyes with iron nails glowing from the furnace, but by means of a certain glowing-hot vessel they took away the faculty of vision from the focus of his eyes, and gradually they...

extinguished the power of sight. After these things were dared on the day of the feast of the Savior, the very day on which He was born, by an unlawful hand and an even more unlawful command, they carried away this piteous burden, as if it were a lifeless object, to the fortress by the sea of the Nicetians at Dacibyza, and locked him securely inside, and guards stood watch, with a meager ration of food assigned to the prisoner. ^A And those oaths, and agreements, and the dreadful binding pledges, were swallowed like vegetables by an Emperor who appeared to have piety toward God, by which it was even preferred by the Church for the throne. But indeed the saying is true, that "Office will show the man"; for the office showed even him, how much he cared for justice and piety toward God. However, being blinded by the vanity of glory, he ordered the innocent one to be blinded in his body as well.

John having suffered such things unjustly—O justice!—and beyond what was expected, was deprived of his nose and lips. And he immediately, after putting on rags, entered the monastery of the Forerunner. And for these reasons, regarding many others with suspicion, he placed some in no account, and punished others. For such is the character of not ruling lawfully but tyrannically; for those who happen to sin—the ruler—suspecting that the well-conscienced among men look down upon them—since it is not possible for him to repent of what has been done and to ask for forgiveness, as he disdains it—it is necessary that he who is rightly distrustful should feel hatred thence toward those who are suspected, and punish them. ^B There was then in the palace a turmoil of thoughts, mixed with fear; for the thoughts did not allow even the naturally unfeeling to remain at rest, and the fear, lest someone should learn and report it, and the punishments should become inescapable for him, immediately repressed them—for fearful indeed in reports was the suspicion that someone might be attached to the boy John and feel sympathy for him.

11. Regarding Manuel Holobolos, and the suspicion felt toward the rest because of John.

Then also, having fabricated charges against Manuel Holobolos—who was still a child and at that time among his own kin—and because of this cause also, a little later, those against the ^C imperial throne rebelled because of John.

For this cause also, a short time later, others, whom he suspected and held in hatred for a like reason, he either punished with insulting neglect, having no regard for them in the distribution of honors and offices, or under sought-out pretexts he punished them ill. Such are the fruits of an empire not governed according to laws but exercised tyrannically. For it is inevitable that a prince of such a kind, who has sinned greatly, when he either perceives or suspects that he is censured by honest men of good conscience, should flare up into furies; and since those who think that to profess repentance for acts wrongly done, or to ask for pardon, is alien to their dignity and to be avoided worse than death, he applies his whole mind to deeming and asserting that the things he has done are just. Hence what follows, but that he is compelled to hate and, as much as he is able, to take revenge upon those who think otherwise of him? There was, then, in the court a confusion of thoughts, perplexed by fear. For on the one hand, no man, however savage and cold to the sense of humanity, could conceive in his mind the tragic spectacle of such cruelty exercised upon a child in every way innocent, without being inwardly moved and incited to vengeance; on the other hand, a fear and solicitation regarding himself constrained all equally, lest if any sign of these sentiments should emanate, it might be greedily collected by ready informers and reach the ears of the tyrant, to be followed immediately by an unavoidable and cruel punishment, since of all types of denunciation, those were the most powerful and swift to stir the mind of Michael to the wildest furies, which might happen to report that anyone felt sympathy for the boy John and bore his lot with difficulty.

12. Concerning the Zygeneis, how they rebelled against the Emperor because of John.

On account of which cause also, a little later, the country folk who inhabit the mountains near Nicaea, being farmers...

the mountain peaks of Nicaea, ^A being for the most part farmers and devoted to agriculture, yet bold in other respects and relying on their bows, and at the same time confident because of the ruggedness of the inaccessible thickets and mountains where they had their dwellings that they would not easily suffer any harm, no matter what they did to irritate the emperor, when they found a youth who had come from somewhere or other, blinded by disease, concerning whom the rumor had gone ahead, spread by those who had concocted the play, that he was the boy John, they gathered in great numbers and irrevocably clung to him as their lord. They supposed him to be the son of Theodore, who had lately reigned, to whom they thought themselves bound by the religious obligation of an oath formerly taken by them in the name of Theodore, his father and predecessor; and with great zeal they applied themselves to dare and undergo anything for his preservation and dignity, declaring themselves the avengers of the cruel injury done to him. Therefore, they openly defected from the emperor, demonstrating that if any should come against them from him, they would resist fiercely and would most willingly face any danger of battle. First of all, they clothed him in attire and finery appropriate to imperial majesty and, surrounding him with a retinue, they recognized and honored him as emperor, and declared themselves ready to cast the die of any danger on his behalf. ^B The emperor, however, having learned of these matters, was incensed with anger and could not contain himself, if such heights were to be torn away because of the fame circulating, from which it was likely that many others would also be incited to rebel. Wherefore, ^C gathering the royal forces at that same moment, he sent them to fight the civil wars. And many of those who were stronger than their own strength in the self-same belief—moved by the opinion of their goodwill toward the emperor—were vying as to who might risk danger first to offer him a favor. But those whom this preparation was attacking, when they heard that such a number of assailants were being sent against them as if they were truly rebels and enemies of the empire, exerted themselves to drive away the shame and odium of rebellion. On the contrary, they professed and even boasted that they were showing their loyalty and piety with a great proof, since they were submitting their heads and their fortunes to the ultimate danger to avenge the emperor from a most grave injury. Wherefore, animated by the consciousness of this pious cause of war, they had as a constant watchword in their mouths and mutual conversations the fixed and irrevocable resolution to win or to die altogether. Therefore, having occupied the fortifications with a great multitude, from them they launched a huge force of arrows with their bows, and defended the space within range so that no one should approach them with impunity. But soon with increased courage they would leap out from there, without breastplates or helmets, and dare to rush forward in a formed band, and freely provoke the attackers with a frequent volley of javelins. To these the emperor’s soldiers, not daring to descend into close combat or trust themselves to the level plain, responded with safe shooting from a distance, with great destruction to them, since among those packed together no missile went in vain. They, being indignant that they were suffering so much harm not from an army drawn up in line of battle, but from guards of stations positioned here and there—near which they were rushing—and thinking it a huge disgrace of their own if more were to be defeated by fewer, men hardened by mountain cold and rustic toil by those nourished in urban leisure and delicacies, they engaged with greater number and impetus, encouraging and helping one another; whence it happened that many of them fell and no small slaughter was enacted. Nor yet did that avail to diminish their audacity or relax the ardent impulses ^D

^A of those who dared to enter. Consequently, the most proven men fell daily, spurred on by the fervor of their own indignation; and they suffered changes of fortune not a little, as they were troops who judged themselves capable of overcoming vast forces, yet were being bested by a few men who were greater in number than themselves, and peasants at that, who had been worn down by the war for most of the season. To add to this, the [peasants] themselves were in safety, and whatever the outsiders did they did not notice, fortified as they were by the terrain, even if still more men were to attack them; for there was nothing for them to do but fall upon one another, [P. 131] and, lacking the power to stand against the force of the arrows, they were utterly destroyed. As for the others, if ever they were divided by the necessity of their duties, it happened that those who were left in small numbers here and there were in danger; for the reason that while those who held the region against them expected no danger from their rear, having their faces turned toward those in front, and being obscured and fearful of the trees, they regarded them with contempt, whereas those who expected the danger on all sides and awaited it in a circle regarded it with great concern, and thus ^B they were compelled by fear of the danger. There were also some who were far better ^C in the heat of their anger, and they were not a little transformed, being troops who thought they could prevail even over great forces, yet were being bested by a few men who were, compared to them, more numerous, and rustic, half-armed with plow and hoe, whom they were long fighting not even on equal terms, but in a far worse lot, with many of their men falling unavenged. Meanwhile, the state of affairs for the mountaineers was most favorable. They themselves, their homes, and their children were in safety, standing not only out of range of weapons, but even beyond the awareness and noticing of those who had long been besieging them in vain, being abundantly fortified by the natural position and the roughness of the terrain. Against which position, if it had pleased the attackers to act even like madmen, openly striving in battle array, what else would they have done but heap ignominy upon disaster, exposing their own heads as targets for the most experienced archers, who would never vibrantly cast their projectiles into the dense throng from on high and in safety with an idle cast? But if an assault were attempted not with the forces all together, but by scattered groups sent in separately, experience showed that this too would be done both in vain and perniciously. For those who, due to the narrowness of the places—which did not accommodate many at once—had hitherto necessarily been divided from the rest and had wanted to attack the mountaineers, had either fallen in the attempt or, having been badly mauled, had been forced to withdraw. The cause of this was that our men, not fearing that they might be surrounded by the consciences of the camps that were widely holding everything in the rear, and intent only on the enemies positioned opposite them—most of whom lay hidden, invisible among the branches of the trees and the shelters of the familiar woods—were carried away by a false security into places whence there was no retreat. And this was because the rustic folk, observing their incautious progress from a hiding place, would rise up and slay them with opportune sallies from the side or from the rear, from where it was least feared. Moreover, that very fear and solicitude of the mountaineers, reflecting that they were few against many, and enclosed in one place while being attacked by those who occupied the whole region round about, sharpened their vigilance on watch, lest they be suppressed by our men in any part unexpectedly.

And indeed, many considered death in war to be far better than the punishment expected if they were to yield and be betrayed, and for this reason they wished to hold out until the end.

Since they were using frequent excursions wherever an opening presented itself, and were fighting with clubs (for not all had swords), ^A in this way, with the war dragging on for a long time and matters being ground down, since they could not succeed in fighting against those who resisted, they prudently decided to approach in peace—not all at once, for it was impossible to yield by way of a treaty in such a manner; for they were ashamed to change their minds, each one fearing his neighbor, and the hopelessness they felt, as if they would perish if they gave in, attended them. For this reason, sending them one by one, they would promise them amnesty for what had happened and [that they would be received] by the Emperor, and they were also counseling them, if they wished, not to maintain a constant and basest unanimity with the others against the rest, and they led them—if they were willing to meet—to designated places, though with hostages (for they did not desire to deceive), ^B from which they could learn how many benefits they would receive from the Emperor if they surrendered their resistance, and if they betrayed the impostor who was rumored to be the Emperor; for [they claimed] that this man was not Laskaris, nor indeed that he was even John, even if everyone said so, for he had been shut up in the fortress of the Nicetiatae and was securely held in custody. And if someone wished to see him, having taken secured pledges under fearful oaths, it was possible for him to come and see. By these and further means they drew them away day by day, and at the same time they also sent sufficient gifts, with difficulty persuading and enslaving their minds by distributing gold. And so, approaching this one and then that one with the messages, they persuaded the many, and especially the prominent ones, by both placating them and making promises. ^C These, day by day becoming more softened, provided the others with suspicion of betrayal. However, even when they perceived the change, they did not have what they might do; for they supposed that only those who were making the treaty were to be saved, and [on] ^D those days many added themselves to those who were in danger. Yet there were some who thought death in war to be less bitter than the evil punishments to which they expected they would be subjected if they either yielded voluntarily or were betrayed by the treachery of others. Therefore, they hardened themselves in their resolve to resist and to fight until they either conquered or fell.

^C 13. Allegata montanorum inter sese pro eo quem ut Joannem acceptum apud se habebant.

The greater part of them were those who pitied the blind man whom they had with them, and who argued that it was unworthy to betray him, whoever he might be. "For by what right," they said, "could we hand over this stranger—whether he is John Lascaris or not—to his enemies for torture and a bitter death? For if we have put our own lives, our wives, and all our dearest possessions at risk for the salvation of him who fled to us for refuge, if we now suddenly change our minds and abandon him, what defense will be left to us, so that we might not be condemned by all for most treacherous betrayal? Shall we say that we were forced and compelled by him against our will? But he came to us when we were already prepared and eager to fight on behalf of the lord who had suffered injustice. Shall we allege that our affairs were thrown into confusion for his sake? But our own headlong audacity for innovation, rather than this man, will be blamed for this unrest. Or shall we say that he pretended to be emperor and begged us to assist him as such? First, who knows if he was pretending, and if he is not in truth the John he claims to be? And who can be certain that the other man, whom they claim to be ready to show us, whom they keep in custody as a blind youth, is truly John Lascaris? Furthermore, even if it were so, the innate and widely shared human desire to increase one’s own fortune—especially when an opportunity for advancement presents itself and the ambitions of men call them forward—detracts much of the odium from that fault, so that it may not seem worthy of such harsh punishment by us; for at such a time, who would not consider the ambition of one who did not refuse a kingdom offered to him by those willing to give it to be deserving of pardon? Why, therefore, should we, who are free from fault, heap accusations upon him? Since he came to us when we longed for him, and when he appeared we raised him up, even if he has sinned in some respect, we ought to be constrained to protect and preserve him, rather than exposing him to the greatest danger—which we cannot do without just reproach—by delivering him to his enemies who thirst for his blood. And even if he were clearly convicted of the most atrocious crime, and were the worst of scoundrels, the laws of divine justice and the reverence due to one who has fled to our faith and asylum should compel us to keep him safe and unharmed, in accordance with the common duty of humanity; for one should not then look so much at what he might justly suffer, as at what it behooves us to do."

As some were saying these things, they were able to persuade others that it was impossible to betray and hand over the suppliant to the enemy without the greatest infamy to their own people. Yet they were also anxiously inquiring among themselves, "What then must be done? Must we fight forever?" For this would necessarily follow from the resolve to persist to the end in the defense of the boy. Unless—which could not be expected—that small, single group of people could defeat the entire empire that had conspired against them, and even if it could not succeed, it was still considered worth attempting. In this situation, when they turned their minds to the one available method of arranging peace, namely the surrender of the boy they were harboring, they recoiled and turned away from it, preferring instead the uncertain and destructive plan of fighting to the end at any risk whatsoever.

Amidst these many anxieties, since no firm plan could be set in motion during the long delay of confused deliberations, the blind stranger, the cause of such great turmoil, was let go and fled to the Persians. Those, moreover, who had long ago begun to negotiate secretly with our side, now made their treaty public; and since they were forgiven and were, as I have said, both numerous and the leading men of the mountaineers, they [compelled] the remaining, weaker ones of that...

place to depart, though they would have gladly performed upon them the greatest punishment; yet they were restrained from doing so, lest they should lay bare the heights of men capable of resisting the incursions of the Persians. Having settled these matters concerning the Tricocciolitae and the mountaineers, the Roman forces returned home.

14. How the patriarch was affected upon learning the events, and how he excommunicated the Emperor.

The event that had befallen the boy John, being too great to be hidden, became known even to the patriarch. ^B Hearing it, he regarded the report as a terrible thing, and he knew not what he should do, nor could he contain his anguish. And then, having judged that it was not safe for him to remain silent in the face of such deeds and not to proceed with a reprimand, he summoned the prelates who were with him, and having first bitterly lamented that he had been mocked, and having expressed extreme indignation that the laws of God were being despised through the violation of oaths, he finally deliberated what he must do, so that falsehood might not boast over the truth of justice. "Therefore, what depends ^C on us," he said, "if she [justice] should be occupied elsewhere, it is right to do, so that we may appear to be haters of evil by being indignant at these matters." While the patriarch was saying these things, those around him were exceedingly distressed and detested what had been done, and they agreed that the whole matter rested with him, as they themselves would also agree to whatever he might decide. He, having groaned over those oaths and having remembered how they were confirmed and that others were unable to do what had been sworn, undertook to do what fell to his own share alone. Yet he did not choose to slaughter BODILY (for it was not becoming); but ^D as much as he possessed the power to act in spirit, he did not lack heart. This was by all means what happens through the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God, to divide the worthy from the unworthy, and to bless the one, and to cast the other out from the wholeness of the body of Christ. Having settled these things with himself—while the others were embarrassed by the righteous [duty] and restrained by the fearful consequences, lest they should do anything too rash—he sent out, at the same time rebuking him who had acted with impiety, and simultaneously applying the cutting of the spirit, which is excommunication. At this juncture—

he remained quiet, neither complaining (for it was not becoming for him), and he apologized for the facts of the matter as they stood. Yet, not unaware that he was held in inescapable bonds, he quietly tempered his anger and sought a time for repentance, in order that he might receive absolution. For he hoped that if he remained quiet for a short while, and then appeared to repent and sought his release, absolution would follow for him at once. ^A 15. How the people of the Roman fleet performed valiant deeds by means of their triremes. Someone might find fault with what occurred, as if the ruler did not act in the proper way ^A by giving place to righteous wrath, and another might defend those who acted as if they could not have done otherwise. The blame was that, having imposed the bond, he [the Patriarch] allowed the clergy to chant on his [the Emperor’s] behalf, so that they also communicated with him through the sacred rites, and he himself performed the holy mysteries, at which it was clearly necessary that he who was held by spiritual bonds be mentioned. The apology for this, however, was that the severity of the censure already had sufficient weight for such a person, such that if anything more were added, all things risked being overturned, according to the Empedoclean sphere—and that the Emperor, having acted with insolence, might proceed to something unreasonable. For if it is difficult for a great house to receive a small misfortune, just as it is for a small house to receive a great one, yet to have a great misfortune fall upon the greatest house and not be mitigated and slackened from its harshness according to what is expected, would have caused no little harm. The Oedipodes, the banquets of Thyestes, ^B and the wanderings of Odysseus will testify to this. Thus, then, the Patriarch having dealt with the Emperor’s boldness, he, willing or unwilling, accepted the censure. ^A He was indeed calm for a little while, and went about his affairs. But the gnawing of conscience fed upon his heart like a worm, and he seemed humble, even if he took care to maintain the dignity of the Empire, so that he would not be despised and fail to obtain his necessities. The navy, at any rate, set sail, and the triremes, putting in at the islands, captured not a few of them, and those captured were immediately secured with garrisons and added to the Romans, having formerly served the Latins. From these, Naxos was known to be captured, and Paros was heard of as being taken, as were Keos and Karystos...

together with Oreos in quick succession; and, to omit the rest, the mountainous regions of the Peloponnese around Monemvasia, together with Sparta and Lacedaemon, were brought under Roman rule through that expedition.

16. How the brothers of the emperor were entrusted with the administration of the Western regions. ^A [P. 137] The emperor then entrusted the Western affairs to his brothers. He handed over the Eastern forces to the Despot John, and ordered him to proceed overland, accompanied by the Scythian auxiliaries, and to strike into the lands of the Illyrians and Triballians, and beyond the Peneus river, into what is properly called Greece, to wage war against the Despot Michael; for the excuse was no longer available to that prince, that it was improper for him to hold those regions while the emperor was outside his own fatherland. He embarked the Sebastokrator Constantine on ships and sent him against Monemvasia, giving him also all the Roman forces that had previously campaigned in the region of Macedonia, and all the Persian troops as well; for the Despot John had taken the Italian contingent with him, as it was not considered suitable for fighting against the Italians. Many of the great men accompanied the Despot, among whom were Michael Kantakouzenos—who later became Grand Konostaulos—the Tarchaneiotes, his cousins, and many others who had defected to the emperor from the West. ^B Many others followed the Sebastokrator, among whom was the Grand Domestic Alexius Philes, and with him also Macrenus, whom the sovereign held as his *parakoimomenos*.

The fleet sailed from the spring until the star Arcturus, and in many respects it was successful. This fleet was led by the Protostrator Alexius Philanthropenos, a man venerable and noble, who was for a time kept back from being honored with the grand dignities to the same extent as others of equivalent rank; for a sibling of the old Emperor Laskaris, already far advanced in years and past his prime, was living in Constantinople, assisting the emperor with his counsels in the management of public affairs whenever possible. Philanthropenos, however, was closely related to the emperor, for he had taken as a son-in-law Michael, the son of the emperor’s sister Martha. Such was the man who was in charge of the fleet and set sail at the onset of spring; later, however, upon the death of the Laskaris, he received from the emperor the dignity of Grand Duke as a reward for his labors, as will be told.

These men, then, divided into three parts, pursued the Western affairs. The Despot pressed against the Despot Michael, demanding the return of his territory as belonging of old to the Empire. Michael had formerly had an excuse, and he used it persuasively, saying that there was no need for the emperor himself—who did not yet possess the throne of the Empire, that is, Constantinople—to reclaim the lost territories; for, he argued, it was more fitting for the Italians to be made to give up the throne than for him to return the Western lands, thus...

clearly seeing that all this must be forestalled, and that the matter was one to be settled quickly. For he claimed that the Italians were so far from returning the capital of the empire to the Romans that they were still—and not entirely without hope—coveting the ancestral territories, and that they possessed such formidable strength that their dominion could only with difficulty be contained at Thessalonica. ^C This, I say, was the sum of his speech, and all the bravado he had boasted of before was now cast aside; he merely alleged in his own defense that he held the region which his fathers had acquired through labors, through sweat, and, one might almost say, by dripping with their own blood. This inheritance, transmitted from them to their children, he possessed by the best of rights; why, then, should he relinquish it to those who were unrighteously demanding it? Indeed, if it were to be returned, it ought to be returned to those from whom it had been snatched. But it was not from the Romans, he argued, but from the Italians, who held those lands by right of war, that his ancestors had extorted them by force; and who would not admit that it was right and just for him—the scion and descendant of those men—to enjoy, as a patrimony of valor, the inheritance they had legitimately acquired? Truly, the old saying holds: nothing is considered more rightfully one's own than that which a man, through his own striving and peril, has won for himself by his own hand and by Mars. ^D Amidst these interminable altercations on both sides, with each party alleging its own rights, the forces under the command of the Despot John wasted the time in which they might have achieved their goal. Meanwhile, the Sebastocrator, besieging Monemvasia and the surrounding regions, engaged in daily conflict with the Prince; for he was not content with that part of the Peloponnese which the Romans had already captured, but sought to subjugate the whole of it, having as his lieutenants the Grand Domestic Philes and the Parakoimomenos Macrenos, and he struggled with all his might to achieve this.

17. Concerning John Macrenos, the Parakoimomenos.

The Parakoimomenos was highly esteemed and had a reputation among the enemy for his military prowess, and he displayed such fearlessness that, even after the Sebastocrator had later returned from there, he was left behind to lead the army. ^A Having fought successfully many times, they were nevertheless eventually defeated and captured in war, both of them. Then, while they were briefly held in confinement, the Grand Domestic died, and his mother-in-law, Eulogia, caused great difficulties for the Emperor by reporting that the Parakoimomenos had betrayed her son-in-law, and that he had been captured in the war by design, having dug a pit for his fellow commander; and she truly accused him, saying he had held talks and reached an agreement with the Prince to marry the daughter of the Emperor Theodore Lascaris (for she had been widowed of her husband while living there), and that, having betrayed the territory to them, he was acting against the Emperor. These things that Eulogia said, and added as well before her brother, seemed credible; for the Emperor had long heard such reports about him. And she reinforced these accusations with the man's own successes, arguing that it was likely that one so highly esteemed would have the audacity to seek out the Prince and plot such things with him. And she thought the prospect of a marriage tie with the Emperor’s daughter was more than sufficient to persuade him, as he would certainly esteem such a marriage, promising to enter into kinship with the most powerful houses. And because this same marriage...

^A stirred the man to anger because of the woman’s hatred and the imperial spirit, he did not accept the suspicion. Wherefore, accepting the plausible arguments as true, he wished to punish the man immediately, even while he was detained in prison by the enemies. Having had him sent, he exchanged him for the most important Italian figures, and almost immediately he blinded him—paying back worthy returns for the heroic deeds which he had performed during war, bravely and manfully resisting the enemies. But thus these things came to pass. As for the protostrator Alexius Philanthropenus, putting out to sea with the fleet, which he had excellently equipped with soldiers of the Gasmulic type, in whom he especially trusted for battles (using these only for war, while the others, whom they call Proselontes, were assigned only to rowing), and furthermore having with him the Laconians whom the ruler had removed from the Peloponnese—bringing all these on ships, he ravaged the islands and brought the wealth of the enemies to the emperor.

XVIII. Embassies to the Pope, and how the emperor managed affairs concerning the Haemus, while sitting at home

^C [P. 140] However, the emperor was not idle sitting at home, nor did he disregard affairs; how could he? Far from it. For he understood the future regarding his own affairs, and therefore suspected that this woman, being the sister of the blinded John, was hostile to him; stirred to violent anger, and accepting as true and quite certain what was so credibly reported, he determined to take cruel vengeance for even the first thought of this marriage, hateful to him, in Macrenos. Therefore, he ordered that he be brought to him, having been exchanged for the greatest figures of the Italian people while he was still held in the custody of the enemies; and upon his arrival, he immediately blinded him, paying him this, as it were, worthy reward for the heroic deeds performed by him, while he fought so often and so bravely and courageously against the enemies of the Roman name. And these things happened as they did.

Furthermore, the protostrator Alexius Philanthropenus, having set out with the fleet, which he had excellently equipped with soldiers of the Gasmulic kind, in whom he ^D especially trusted in battles (using these only for martial affairs, while others, whom they call Proselontes, were for rowing only), and moreover having with him Laconians whom the emperor had moved from the Peloponnese—with all of these he campaigned in the islands, and having ravaged them, he returned and offered the rich spoil from the enemies to the emperor.

18. Legations to the Pope; and how the emperor, being absent from the Haemus and residing at home, managed things well.

But the emperor did not remain idle or asleep at home, missing the opportunities for business. For whence could anyone suppose this of him, who was furthest of all from any such suspicion of negligence? For it can be said most truly that this man possessed a soul and spirit that were truly royal; nor did he endure being despised, since, being fully aware of this crime against himself, as he could not but despise those who were the authors of his ruin and who were so justly—or rather, by justice and right!—inflicting, out of malice and secret ambush, such monstrous cruelty upon the boy John, the brother of that woman, he himself—as he possessed a spirit that was kingly and did not endure being despised—followed in accordance with the custom and vice of malice by hating them in turn and wearing down those who were destroying him. Since, therefore, the Roman territory was bounded at Orestias and barely extended beyond that, with the Bulgarians holding the areas further on, he sent frequent detachments of military forces there, himself issuing commands from there, the wonderful one—for, regarding those points which he saw (or even those he did not see, by his knowledge of them) he would give instructions to those being sent, and where they should camp, and how they should engage, and from where they should launch an attack, whether in ambush or in the open, by day or by night, ordering everything appropriately from the memory of his visions, as if he were present before [...]

^A them. But if he had not seen the place, he would order those who knew it to draw it out for him, and thus he would appoint commanders; and there was a judgment hanging over anyone who disobeyed. Sending his forces in this way, he achieved many things in the regions under him. Philippopolis was captured, the fortress of Stenimachus was taken, and the entire ridge outside the Haemus Mountains was brought under his control. Myltza was also captured—as will be told—when he gave it up; and the great city of Mesembria, along with Anchialus, was also taken. Furthermore, the territories round about them, once they had tasted of the change, preferred to be governed by the Emperor. [P 141] This caused shock to Constantine; he had no means of repelling the enemy at that time, yet he was deeply vexed by what had happened, seeking an opportunity—for which they say the "soul of events"—to defend himself fittingly.

19.

How the Emperor, beseeching the Patriarch, sought the absolution of the excommunication

As the Emperor was doing these things, his thoughts were daily in turmoil. For his conscience would not allow him to rest; he considered that to be bound by such shackles was the same as being nothing. Therefore, having neither a place for an apology nor a way to ^B cast off the penalty, he was at a loss, and turned to intermediaries who lived holy lives and were familiar with the Patriarch. He implored them fervently to intercede for the suppliant to be released from the bond and, since he had repented, to impose a remedy that he might desire; for he was ready to do whatever he ordered, although it was entirely impossible to make what had been done undone. Those who went to the Patriarch reported both the Emperor's words and added many things of their own, out of favor to the Emperor. But he considered the request of no account and paid it no heed. For he said that he had placed a dove in his bosom, and that it had been transformed into a snake and bitten him unto death; he was indicating through both of these contrary animals the same Emperor and one man, not changing his nature, but his character in their eyes. The Patriarch added these and even more to this, saying that even if something were to happen, he would not lift the excommunication, even if he were to threaten evil or death itself. Those who went back and reported the words of the Patriarch cast the ruler into the greatest helplessness. And he, since they say that a face-to-face appearance is a counter-remedy (for this, they say, is also the meaning of the Gorgon in myths), decided that he himself would approach and meet with the [his] ^C duty of confessing and seeking the absolution. [P 142]

^A He went and prostrated himself before him as a suppliant many times; and having revealed the wound of his soul, he asked for the cure. To this, the patriarch bade him do the things by which so great an evil could possibly be cured. But he did not state what these things were, content to command indefinitely and obscurely. The emperor, however, begged him to indicate by name—so that he would not be burdened—what he wanted to be done by him, showing himself prepared to obey in all things whatsoever he might say. The patriarch nevertheless persisted in those indefinite prescriptions, and only said: ^B "Show the satisfaction for your fault, and I will accept it." But when he had many times asked that the remedies be prescribed to him clearly, and the patriarch did not reply clearly, they say the emperor said: "And who knows whether, when I have done many things, you will find it sufficient?" To whom the patriarch replied gravely that for huge crimes, the expiations also must be great. Then the emperor, in order to test the man’s mind more deeply, said: "What then? Do you bid me even to abdicate the empire?" And as he said this, he began to unloose the sword from his belt and offer it to him, to test what he might finally want. But the patriarch, eagerly stretching out his hand as if to take what was being given, caused the Augustus to draw back, ^C and he held onto the sword not yet freed from his thigh, and furthermore reproached him as if he were plotting against his life, that he would go about thus disarmed; and yet, having removed the covering from his head, he did not hesitate to throw himself at his feet with many looking on. The ^D patriarch, however, repulsed him bitterly and looked down upon him as he tightly clasped his knees, so fearful is a conscience of its crime. So venerable was the man! But when, as he was often asking and vehemently pressing while he retreated, he followed him, the patriarch straightway entered his cell and closed the doors tightly in his face, and left him idle. These things having occurred many times, and having both acted and suffered and achieving nothing, he immediately became enraged and accused the patriarch’s hardness over many things, and railed against him for ordering the common affairs to be abandoned, and for commanding him neither to collect taxes, nor levy duties, nor handle business, nor indeed to govern the authority at all—thus the "healer" of our affairs chooses to heal! And finally he would often add that since he also scorned the canons that prescribe repentance, it was time to fall before the Pope of Rome and beg to be saved. He, being in such a state, and from that point harboring a grudge and being burdened [by the interaction], turned again to the administration of public affairs, having renounced falling before him again (for he knew he would achieve nothing), yet he considered it necessary to prepare in due time the defense against necessary matters.

κ’. How the despots, John and Michael of the West, came together by agreement. 143 Then, therefore, he again made trial of [entries preserved]

and desired to see, one another. The despot, having accepted the embassy as having received the concession from the emperor, commanded that the oaths be taken. And indeed, having met with him on the appointed day, and having embraced him in a guileless manner, although he [Michael] was again concealing his deceit, he sent him back to his own lands.

κα’. How the despot John, having been relieved of the Westerners, attacks the enemies in the East. And a partial eulogy of him.

For it was not possible, it was not possible for him to remain in the same state, nor for a firm trust to be established from the relationship with them, and for this reason it was not possible for the despot John to remain quiet, even for a little while, using Thessalonica at once as a base and a starting point. From this, therefore, he again, although those in the East were suffering, sent the despot with very many forces. And indeed, having arrived at Thessalonica with the greatest speed, he arranged the forces and prepared to wage war against Michael. And having been heard of not even completely, he arrived as soon as he was heard of and at the same time fell upon the regions, and returned having gathered very much booty. And he indeed kept the forces wintering around the Vardar, so that he might attack again as soon as spring arrived; but Michael, seized by no moderate fear (for he feared the despot even by reputation, as he was blustering a great deal before that against the Italian army; for because of his kinship with the son of Frederick, Manfred, by his daughter, he had the military force from there ready to help), leaving aside his confidence in those men, he had recourse to treaties, and having sent, he besought John, lamenting his previous double-dealings, and gave oaths as a secure guarantee for the future. And he sought also to meet together at once.

^A [P 144] The emperor, however, having recalled the despot John from Thessalonica, after he had spent but a short time there, sent him with his forces toward the East, to engage with the Persians as was intended. And it was a delight to that man to be at the head of them, and to accomplish something worthy of his own glory. For the man was truly very sharp, so that he would be heard of in one place now, and then be present where one would never have expected him to be at all. Leaving behind those pieces of baggage and multitudes of companies and retinues, he would use horses that could travel rapidly when preparing at evening, and appeared where people did not even have his presence in mind. And in order that his body might not be worn down from moving on horses and from continual...

^A agitation, he kept his body girded and bound with swaddling bands. Because of these things he performed the greatest deeds of valor, being terrible to all, heard of and appearing at the same time. Yet he cherished the soldiery with words and attended to them with gifts; and what is most important, he did not behave toward them as a master, but as a brother, being a man God-beloved, gentle, kind, and unhypocritical. And in generosity he surpassed everyone. Chastity also flourished in him, so that it was never even heard that he was subject to the theft of illicit pleasure, except for his wife. But she, from an illicit union—and she was his only natural, though not legitimate, daughter—brought forth a child, who was even given in marriage to David, the Mepe of Iberia. Otherwise he was moderate and patient in all things, very ambitious for domestic order, and altogether conspicuous. And the precise signs of his love for the good and love of beauty [145] toward his household, from which it resulted that they were trained to precision and became true servants, was that after his death his attendants were deemed worthy to serve the emperor in the highest offices.

^B It would be more appropriate to speak of his lack of love for money, or rather his hatred of money, and of the fact that he was superior to the practice of providing everything for the soldiers—when it was within his power to have casks full of money and to be overflowing with wealth, having waged many and great wars and brought all countries to their knees through his military experience, and furthermore having acquired even more from his own household management—, at the very least because to many it seems a mark of supreme virtue to enjoy one’s own possessions without acquiring anything from outside. But he, with Fortune hurling such opportunities for wealth at him, utterly abhorred and hated such wealth-gathering as being excessively greedy, rejoicing only in glory, which he cared for more than anything else. For only glory, among the things of this life, is naturally destined to follow those who have departed. And the law of Christ, the lawgiver of the Christians, is not that of Solon or Lycurgus, but of the Creator and Maker and God Himself: to give from what one has at hand and to receive in return greater things in exchange. This is what one must necessarily believe, if one believes in Christ not only as one who is baptized, but as one who holds Him to be the Truth regarding those things which He promises. Having been baptized

^A and having professed that he irrevocably assents to Christian dogmas, for such a man not to believe the words of Christ, which promise a rich fruit for almsgiving, is proof that he did not even believe beforehand, no matter how much he may have pretended and affirmed that he believed. Nor is the remuneration a common one which the law of Christ promises to the merciful giver, but one that returns a hundredfold for every one. Indeed, even to me—and to any prudent man, I think, who judges things even by a merely human standard and sense—even if we were not commanded to expect any such thing, the very splendor of the glory flourishing from it, which shall endure for all time, would abundantly move one to do good to the needy; in the hope of this, I am not only turned away from greedily gathering superfluous wealth, but am also easily induced to withdraw even from my own needs what I might bestow upon the poor whom I encounter, without, however, condemning others or forbidding myself to reserve what might seem necessary for the needs of life, whether already pressing or impending in the future, especially when a present opportunity for giving does not arise. Such were the sentiments ^D that the Despot John harbored, deeply impressed and fully persuaded in his heart, and, acting in conformity with them, he tended toward the goal of glory set before him.

Yet this ardent zeal of his for generous giving was slightly dampened by the followers of the pseudo-monk Nilus, who had come here from Sicily to the great detriment of the Roman state, teaching men to attend to parsimony and counseling them to exercise great circumspection in giving, lest perhaps someone, having otherwise enough for his own needs and having artfully simulated poverty, should drain money from a not-very-cautious charitable person, casting upon him the stain of one who squanders his own things unadvisedly; and furthermore, that he should defraud that man of the fruit of such a work, which he expected in vain, since it is not to be credited to him as a reward, but must be numbered among vain and idle things. From this doctrine once believed and accepted, it necessarily followed that no one gave anything to another, and thus all provision from alms, by which the hope, sustenance, and status of most of the poor is maintained, was being utterly exterminated by this perverse discipline of theirs, under that plausible pretext of anxiously inquiring before the gift was made whether those who were begging were truly or feignedly in need, thus leaving no room for any charitable disbursement; and to such an extent, by this subtle caviling, the whole law of almsgiving was abrogated. Oh, who could sufficiently explain the ruin of this dogma, for which, indeed, a commentary of its own argument would be needed?

Therefore the Despot, among whose other praises was that of a love and veneration for monks, received into his household those who, from the sectaries of Nilus, professed that life and insinuated themselves into his favor, believing them to be good men because of their garb. Whence it happened that for a long time thereafter the fountain of beneficence flowed more sparingly, blocked by a kind of obstacle of this perverse doctrine, which the flocks of the destitute were accustomed ^B to draw from, having previously been so benignly irrigated. Such was the character and way of life of the Despot, a man truly rushing with keen impetus toward every excellence, and born, as it appeared, and divinely made to restore the Roman state to its former glory. Then, therefore, as the affairs of the Eastern border were in a bad state, he betook himself with the utmost speed to the regions surrounding the Maeander, for the sake of the great and illustrious monasteries long since built in those lands, which were the greatest good among other things, and which were saved by his providence and guardianship from destruction and absolute ruin. Some of these the Persians had already preemptively seized and held, as most of the towns and villages located in that vicinity had been drawn into the dominion of the Persians—either simultaneously or by force, or [because they had] voluntarily [surrendered] so as not to be dragged along.

^A He accepted petitions but imposed boundaries upon them, [limiting] how far they could descend from their encampments if they moved, under penalty of suffering the greatest retribution should they break the terms of the truce. In this way, the Despot established stability in the East, recovering its former state of distress and providing the inhabitants with the security to cultivate their lands and enjoy their produce without restraint.

22. On the wretched state of the Maryandeni, the Bucellarii, and Paphlagonia.

^B The regions of the Bucellarii, the Maryandeni, and Paphlagonia were suffering, and in a most wretched way. The cause of this was that the Emperor, having depleted the accumulated treasures on funerals and heavy imperial largesse, and having used frequent embassies to foreign nations—whether the alleged lack of funds for necessities was merely a pretext, I do not know, or whether it was rather, as was whispered under the breath, that he suspected his subjects of malice due to the events that had occurred and deemed it advantageous to punish the common people with fines so they would not rise up in ^C rebellion against him. ^D

[Latin section] ...if they moved, they should pay the greatest penalties if they broke the treaty. And by this means ^A the Despot, restoring the situation in the East from its former distress, reclaimed those in that land and provided them with the security to cultivate their own [lands] and gather the fruits freely.

22. How the realms of the Maryandeni, of the Bucellarii, and of Paphlagonia were in a wretched state.

The regions of the Bucellarii, the Maryandeni, and Paphlagonia, were suffering and lying in a miserable state; the cause of which was this: the Emperor having consumed what had been gathered by the parsimony of previous princes in so many largesses and ambitious donatives, and furthermore in costly gifts sent to princes or foreign nations by which they might be enticed to treaties and alliances, took care to replenish his exhausted treasury by frequently sending [agents] through all the provinces to collect money. I do not know, however, if that was the true cause of the emptying of the public treasury, or if it was not rather, as some who looked into the matter more deeply murmured, that the Emperor, having obtained that false pretext, really fearing that on account of envy...

^A of the blinded John and the excommunication following from the Patriarch, the provinces might rebel, judged it useful for his own affairs to despoil his subjects and deprive them of their means, so that they might not have the power to rise against him. Be that as it may, whether this was a true or a feigned cause for the emptiness of the treasury, the Emperor at that time avariciously and rapaciously conducted frequent censuses and levies through ministers sent everywhere; he employed for this purpose men of no account, whereas previously the highest nobility of the people had been accustomed to be appointed for assessing such tributes; for Caesar Romanus and the Grand Domestic, the Emperor’s father, had conducted assessments of this kind in the regions situated around the Scamander. These vilest of ministers, moreover, mercilessly extorted gold from all sides and heaped it into the treasury. When they visited Paphlagonia and the further regions to acerbicly rake in money, they offended those peoples all the more because a certain unseasonableness at that time aggravated an exaction that was already odious in itself. Those tribes, more devoted to agriculture than to commerce, abounded in the means of life which the earth produces, but had little coined money. Wherefore it was very difficult for them to count out the gold and silver coins that were demanded for each head; and they took it very indignantly that they were being compelled to do what was impossible, under threat of losses and seizure—especially because there followed from this the need for them to go without necessities for the whole rest of the year, since, in order to pay the sums demanded in any way they could, they were compelled by the inclement nature of the collectors to sell their harvests and vintages at an alien time and at a low price. Most of them had almost no experience in military matters, so that rebellion seemed less to be feared. Yet, since it is always a great labor to restrain a gain-loving people from a defection that appears useful—even if they were not provoked by any extortion—then ^B certainly, when they have been exacerbated by losses and bitter injuries and have been driven to desperation, any amount of industry will be used in vain to keep them in faith and duty. Therefore those people, and especially those whose habitations were nearer to the forts occupied by a Persian garrison, suffering, as they did, such atrocities from our side while hoping for better things from the enemy—the latter, of course, making promises to them and pledging a mild rule if they would surrender themselves voluntarily—decided to defect to the Persians, and there began continuous, daily transitions of one group after another to what they deemed more benign masters. This, attempted first by individuals and, when proven to be done with impunity, frequenting with more numerous examples, gave occasion for the irreparable loss of the whole province; for the Persians, using as leaders and helpers those who had passed over to their side and despising the few who remained constant in the faith sworn to the Emperor, began to infest their lands with frequent incursions; laden with booty from these, and having repeatedly despoiled the wretched, they would return home, not yet daring to settle there, until, with many of those people inclining toward the Persians through the experience of evils, and many redeeming the daily dangers of life through flight and voluntary exile, the Persians joined the now-easy-to-subjugate regions to their own dominion, and, having fixed their domiciles there, provided bad neighborhood to the adjacent lands, ^C infesting them with robberies. Hearing this, the Emperor neglected to hasten there, thinking that he would recover those provinces, situated as they were in the vicinity, whenever he pleased; and, being at that time wholly intent with hope and desire on the affairs of the Western regions—having his thoughts fixed on that one ambition—he followed the habit of the human spirit, which for the most part, while it gapes at distant things, loses what lies before it, and deems the pleasure hoped for from the acquisition of the absent to be more desirable (because it is unusual) than the fruit which is less pleasant on account of a certain nausea of familiarity, which is perceived from the habitual embrace of those things one once possessed.

23.

Concerning the comet that appeared from the north, and the emperor's expedition to the West; and finally, concerning the Patriarch Arsenius.

Thus, while those matters were faring poorly, a comet star shone forth from the west at dawn, from spring until autumn. It terrified those who saw it, casting forth fire mingled with smoke, as if portending some evil. For it had not been—or rather, it had been—that when such prodigies appeared in the heavens, some unusual event did not also occur on earth among the nations. And if among comets there be those that are the most dreaded, as that one was at that time, the evil to come was manifest. A testimony to this account is the common saying: "There is no comet that is not..."—for those well-versed in such things add the remainder—"...naturally an evil thing," so that the whole becomes an iambic line.

^{A B C} Accordingly, while these matters were being debated, rumors were also being directed toward the Patriarch regarding an accusation of alleged treason, and for this reason, notice was given for the Patriarch to meet him at Xantheia, two bishops having been sent for this purpose. Though he did not obey, he nonetheless—to manage the time—sent from his clergy to the emperor once and twice, both to inquire peacefully after the imperial health, and in part to provide an apology by offering what appeared to be a reasonable cause for his not appearing. The emperor, for his part, whether he willed it or not, accepted the apologies and feigned a peaceful intent; he sent back friendly messages to the Patriarch, appearing to be well-disposed towards him. As for the bishops, however—as one might discern, for he did not allow the accusation against him to be scrutinized furtively—it was not right, someone would argue while holding council, that the Emperor, who is the heart of the whole state, should not receive warmth from the Church, but rather should be in danger, receiving instead from there [the Church] disaffection like some pestilential air. And the sovereign was putting forward these and many other arguments, while pretending to hide the perceived hostility toward the Patriarch, but at the same time assigning to those others to investigate the situation at their leisure, as if it were a matter worthy of inquiry.

Then, it seemed good to the emperor, as the inhabitants of the western regions were again stirring and plundering the possessions of our people, to set out for Thessalonica, having gathered not a few forces, that he might better prepare the war from close by. Having arrived at Xantheia, he decided to stay there and have the troops winter. While time was thus being consumed—for many of the hierarchs had gathered around him, and there was discussion ^D of the Patriarch—there were some who did not hesitate to pronounce him guilty of irreligious contumacy for denying the penance required by the sacred canons. Therefore, according to their opinion, he was formally summoned and ordered to appear at Xantheia, two bishops having been sent to him for that cause. He did not obey, yet, yielding somewhat from his harshness so as to serve the time, he sent once and twice certain men from his clergy to the emperor, in a courteous manner to salute him, and to inquire, according to the custom of human friendship, whether the Emperor was faring well with his wife and children, and at the same time to excuse his delay in coming at that moment, as if for other necessary causes to be told. Although these courtesies did not fully satisfy the emperor, he himself nonetheless, masking the wound in his soul for the present, received both the greeting and the excuse with a calm countenance, and in turn, through certain delegates from his retinue, greeted the Patriarch as a friend, signifying that he was of a peaceful mind towards him. Moreover, among the bishops, the cause and the crime of the Patriarch were being handled by secret inquest. Regarding this matter, someone would declare in his exhortations that it seemed neither reasonable nor tolerable that the prince, who is the heart of the state, should not be nurtured by the Church—that source from which the public safety alone depends. What, then, would the outcome be if he were not only not nurtured by it, but, puffed up by a malignant and pestilential spirit of dissension, were brought into danger? Although these things were done by the secret management of the emperor, he nevertheless diligently feigned a mind toward the Patriarch that was fair and free from all offense, by means of those tokens of goodwill which we have recounted and many others shown to him, thus freely allowing the gathered Fathers, during their leisure, to consider what, in such a state of affairs, seemed best for them to do and to decide.

24. Concerning Veccus and Xiphilinus, those holding office in the Church.

^A A certain event occurred in the city which further exasperated the Emperor and incited him to vengeance—an event from which the ensuing evil obliquely struck the Patriarch himself, as the ignominy imposed upon others recoiled upon him. For while Veccus held the dignity of Chartophylax (to whose office it belongs as a privilege that nuptial blessings should only be performed at his instance), a certain priest serving in the temple of the Great Palace located at the Pharos performed a marriage for a couple without requesting the Chartophylax’s consent. Upon hearing of this, the Chartophylax immediately suspended the priest from his priestly functions as a penalty. When this was reported to the Emperor, he took it most severely, as if it were not some moderate censure but a true and supreme excommunication of a royal cleric. Immediately suspecting that this had been done with the knowledge and cooperation of the Patriarch, he was most grievously offended, considering himself held in contempt, and his anger flared violently against the entire ecclesiastical order. ^B Whence he broke out into shouts, exclaiming: "Truly, the Patriarch has wished it so, in accordance with his previous most insolent actions against us, so that he would let no opportunity pass for vilifying and trampling underfoot with extreme contempt the Imperial Majesty, even going so far as to subject the royal and imperial sanctuaries to an interdict." He said this because that priest had chanced to be found within the imperial palace when those sent by the Chartophylax informed him of the sentence of suspension. The Emperor, being fixated on thoughts of vengeance and unable at that moment to take direct action against the person of the Patriarch himself, considered how he might avenge himself more deeply upon the one who had scorned him, and how he might obtain ^C more than that. He quickly sent to the Sebastocrator Tornicius, ordering him (for at that time the affairs of the city were entrusted to him) to demolish immediately the houses of the Chartophylax and the Great Oeconomus (the latter being Theodore Xiphilinus), to root out their vineyards, and to send the men themselves to him in chains. He wished, by this means, to frighten the "lion," as they say, by the example of a mistreated dog; he hoped that, in their fear of punishment, they would incline to obey whatever the Emperor desired. If this were to happen, he expected that the Patriarch—finding himself alone, deprived of the assistance of such men who had been brought over to the side of the Emperor—would not only dare to do nothing against him, but would also be compelled to give way and relax his severity in the cause of the excommunication. ^D The Sebastocrator, therefore, was soon present, standing ready to execute these commands. But those two, having been forewarned of his hostile arrival, fled with their wives and children to the church, intending to enjoy the right of asylum there. When the Sebastocrator learned of this, calculating that great evil would befall him from the Emperor if he did not carry out what had been ordered, he attempted to drag them out of the temple, rushing in like a lion with drawn sword. But the Patriarch, meeting him, repelled the intruder, sternly rebuking him. "What are you doing," he asked, "wishing to pluck out our eyes, to cut off our hands, and to stop our ears?" He testified aloud to God and men that violence was being done to him through this sacrilegious injury, and that it was not lawful for men consecrated to God to be seized by secular persons. Stunned at this, the

one who a little while before had shown such haughtiness, as if he would drag them out, whatever might happen—he who had acted with such pride, as if he could achieve whatever any man should attempt against them—withdrew, frustrated. As he returned home having achieved nothing, Veccus and Xiphilinus remained safe and secure within the precincts of the sacred edifice. He could not cut down their vineyards, since neither of them possessed vineyards around Constantinople; he was also prohibited from demolishing the buildings which they used, it being declared to him that those were not their property, ^C but belonged to the Church, which granted the use of habitation there only precariously to its ministers. Therefore, this fierce avenger, being rejected on all sides and excluded from all that he had attempted, so as not to seem to have done nothing, sent certain men to Nicaea to carry out the devastation ordered by the Emperor upon their estates situated in that territory.

But since he was unable to send them bound, as he had been commanded, he insisted on persuading them to depart of their own accord to the Emperor, arguing that this counsel was useful, both to them and to himself; for if they should voluntarily leave the sacred asylum for the sake of approaching the Prince, he would have a suitable excuse to give the Emperor for having failed to seize and bind them, ^D and he would plausibly plead that the sanctity of the place and the authority of the Patriarch, who appeared and turned him away, had prevented him from taking them from within the temple. Furthermore, it was easy for anyone to see that it would not have been right for him to seize and put in chains those who were spontaneously yielding the protection of the sacred adyta to present themselves to their common lord, and that the Emperor himself would not have thought otherwise. He therefore demonstrated that they would have complete security of inviolable liberty from him, if they did what he advised. He also showed that no such danger was to be feared from anyone else, either because no one would dare to cause trouble for those making their way directly to the Prince, or because, once the patronage of the Patriarch was declared, in that he was openly protecting them, they would be safe everywhere and inviolable, out of respect for that great and most venerable power.

Finally, after they had arrived there, he said that they would receive the surest pledge of safety and security from the very countenance and sight of the Prince; for the face of the Emperor, when exposed to the eyes of those who looked upon it, even for a moment, was considered a necessary cause for grace and pardon toward those who beheld it, even if they were condemned criminals. By putting forward these and similar arguments, he persuaded those men to depart from the temple and journey to the Emperor. And indeed, having been granted leave by the Patriarch, who deemed their departure to be to their advantage (for the things that had befallen them were bitter, and it was as if they were being judged for high treason), equipped immediately with the priest’s prayers and blessings, they set out on the road to Thessalonica. Now, what befell them in Thessalonica upon approaching the Emperor is not for this present time to tell. Yet one might conjecture that they would not have fared well from that place, had it not been that they were compelled by the state of the times to suffer these things. This was that the Patriarch might be left isolated, those men having submitted, as the others had also done.

25. Concerning Sultan Azatin, and concerning the Tochari.

[P 153] One must also take up the story of Sultan Azatin, who became a sad and ill-fated destiny for the Macedonians—I would say also for the Thracians—and the ominous proclamation of the comet concerning the event...

^A For he had been pinned to Constantine for a long time, and daily expecting that he would return with the greatest power, since his hopes had turned to despair (for he knew that the Emperor was occupied with other matters, and marriage alliances with Apagan induced the belief that he would never return), he found at that time, when the Emperor's absence provided the opportunity he needed, [a person] to whom he could send a message. He communicated with one of his kinsmen, a man of some note in the regions towards the north of the Euxine Sea, imploring him to come to the aid of one who was guarded, though without chains, by a friend—the Emperor—who was in no way different from an enemy. For it was possible for him, if he wished to help, to join with Constantine and, spurring him on as he was already eager, [urge him] to attack the Emperor. He also planned to go to him himself, and thus, by being with him, to fall more easily upon the road into the hands of those [enemies], if only he were to go out with the Tocharoi along with Constantine and the Bulgarians. And if the Emperor himself were caught, what would that mean for those who were to attack him? If not, they would at least surround themselves with the greatest amount of bounty, and having also taken many of the Emperor’s possessions, they would return ^B home. He reminded him of their former kinship and glory. And even if he should not hasten to act out of these two motives—as a kinsman, and as one who hopes to share in greater things again—he should at least consider it worthy to cooperate for one of these reasons: either by helping a kinsman or because he knew of his misery and felt pity. Having revealed these things to his uncle in secret, and having received his pledges through letters, he feigned that seeing the Emperor was his heart's desire, and he indicated in his letters to the Emperor, and begged him to allow him to come to him; for it was not endurable to him to be so long deprived of the royal sight. If, therefore, he would command [he would come]; if not, he would come anyway, since longing urges and tyrannizes him. Upon learning these things, the Emperor (and how could he suspect the treachery?) granted in writing for him to arrive to him; for it was [granted] to him to see the western lands, which he had not been able to see while he was living in the East. The Sultan, therefore, having taken his leave, hastened his departure, and sparing a multitude of money, and furthermore also women ^C and children and sister and mother—partly solving the misery into which the prince had fallen, tied by the bond of such close kinship, [he] contemplated taking pity. But if these things were insufficient to move him to dare what was counseled, let him think of the rich profit that would come to him from it, either from the success of a lucrative war and the spoils of victory, or from the gratitude of the Emperor himself, who, after he had restored himself to his former state of fortune, would owe everything to his liberator. If these things, taken singly, seemed weak, yet all of them conjoined together, it was right that they have the greatest power over his spirit. He should act, therefore, and come to help, either out of respect for consanguinity, or out of pity for his unhappiness, the knowledge of which, if he laid it open to him, would make him appear to be bearing the indignity. Having exposed these things secretly to his uncle, and having accepted the assent and loyalty of his letters, he feigned in high degree to desire a sight of the Emperor, and he wrote to the Emperor concerning this opinion, begging again and again that he allow him to approach him. For it did not seem tolerable to him to be deprived for so long a time of the use and sight of his dearest and most honorable prince. He should therefore order him to come as quickly as possible; if he should delay granting this to him, he should know that he was being consumed by such a desire to see him face-to-face that he would hardly be able to refrain himself from venturing the journey without orders. And if he did this, it would be fair to be forgiven, for the force of desire is tyrannical, and its impulses, slipping beyond the bridle of reason and human judgment, mostly break out. The Emperor having received these things, and having suspected nothing of the hidden machinations we have spoken of, wrote back humanely, indulging what the Sultan requested, and even further inviting him to take the opportunity to visit the provinces and cities of the Western tracts, of which—having always lived in the East—he had never yet had the opportunity to know by sight and present experience. The Sultan did not delay to use the granted permission, but immediately, with a great force of money and other wealth, [and] his wives ^D and household, he accomplished [his goal], to the ruin of the public. After he had lingered for a long time at Constantinople in tedious delay, expecting day by day that he would be led back with a great army into Persia, where all his hope for this matter was extinguished for him at the roots—both through the long experience of infinite frustrations, and especially because he did not ignore what the Emperor was secretly treating with his enemies, and having found out about the alliance struck by him with Apagan, whence he understood well enough that he ought to have no remaining trust that he would ever return to his lost principality—having seized an opportunity suitable for his plans, the absence of the Emperor, he alleges to a man faithful to him that he should go to one of his kinsmen who was powerful in the northern tract of the Euxine Sea, begging that he come to his aid [to release him] from the iron and chains of the custody held by the Emperor, who was a friend in appearance, but in reality differed not at all from an enemy. For he could easily, if he wished, help him by uniting his forces with Constantine, and by inciting this man, who was already acting of his own accord, to rush unexpectedly upon the Emperor. He himself was already doing this, and he hoped he would achieve it, [that is] that he might be allowed to approach the Emperor, with the intention that, being present, he would dissimulantly cast him into the ambushes prepared along the way. He would only have to come and draw the Tocharoi he brought with him, together with Constantine and the Bulgarians, into a common expedition. And if indeed—which seemed easy to hope for—the Emperor were captured, it was easily seen how much good would redound to them from it. If that did not succeed, certainly it could not be doubted that this military campaign would be most profitable for him, in any case leading back from it forces laden with rich spoils, as much of other kinds of things as of the Emperor's apparatus and furniture, from which he could extract for himself whatever was most excellent, and [that he could] recover his own kinsman, freed from unworthy custody safe and free, with the precious spoils, home. He should remember his former glory, and from what

^A a state he had fallen, and act in a manner worthy of his noble lineage.

These things therefore, and at the same time thinking it best both to remove suspicion from the city and to clear away all obstacles, the emperor departed with those of his household from the city, and hastened to reach his kinsman. But he, the uncle in question, having gone to Constantine, the king of the Bulgarians—or rather to his wife—and proposing plans against the emperor, persuaded those who had been long since stirred up. And having sent word, he summoned a multitude of Tochari, as if they would gain immediate profit if they campaigned with him and the Bulgarians. These people, moreover, were a multitude that was still autonomous—for they had not yet been completely subjected as subjects to Nogai; for it was at that time that Nogai first began to revolt from his masters, and he was friendly toward them, living on equal terms with them, because even when he was sent out by them, he did not win the lands for the Khan, as they might say, but having seen that the lands were excellent, he usurped them for himself along with them. Hearing this, they were eager at that time, rushing ^B like dogs to devour rich lands. And moreover, the marriage alliance with Nogai was not yet established, which the ruler was later to bring about with his illegitimate daughter, Euphrosyne.

Those parties, having made their preparations, set out upon their journey; and they, whom I mentioned, having suddenly swept down with Constantine and breaking through the impassable and narrow gorges of the Haemus with an immense multitude, openly declared themselves enemies, having pitched their camp on Roman soil. Their order of battle was not unified and established in one place, but they were scattered in herds and small bands, and they attacked simultaneously with other forces, and did terrible things, plundering, slaughtering, carrying off captives, and omitting no evil whatsoever. The emperor, however, having heard of their activities as was expected (for they were not conducting their incursions secretly and guardedly, but like a ^C wild fire they were quickly illuminating the entire region), was shaken in his mind; as the news arrived suddenly, he was in total perplexity as to where he might turn. For there was no force drawn up to do battle; for the troops had been previously dispersed to their own homes, and he was returning with only a few men and those of his imperial retinue, and besides, the forces of the Tochari were invincible against the Romans. Nor did flight seem advisable; for, having occupied and surrounded the fortifications on every side ^D [P. 155] and having effectively blocked the routes, they were constantly appearing everywhere, so that there was nowhere they were not inflicting slaughter, and with a license for incursions everywhere, completely free from all fear, they ran about.

^A Indeed, each person was anxious only for his own safety, and they were made to neglect their neighbor, some by sensible fears, others by untimely cowardice; some who expected that they would be seized by necessity if they did not hasten, while others, not even knowing what the evil was, were brought into consideration and withdrew wherever one hoped to be saved by seeing others doing so. For it was not possible to receive the enemy while gathered in battle order; for he who was leading them was himself also in confusion from the suddenness, and was considering where he should flee. Therefore, keeping few around him, and especially those most intimate and whom he trusted most, he made his retreats from the fearsome along with them, and at the same time encountered other fearful things, so that some escaped while others stumbled, and before the fear of the former had subsided, he received greater ones. For even the very heights of the mountains provided a phantasm of enemies, with a speechless cowardice having fallen upon them. But the evil was also reported in another way; for there was no one who, while approaching or even appearing, did not report fear as soon as he was ready. And if somewhere it was prepared ^B for the emperor to concern himself for his own sake, so that he might be saved, a zeal for escaping was being made by each one, and they were made to neglect their neighbor, some by sensible fears, others by untimely cowardice; some who expected that they would be seized by necessity if they did not hasten, while others, not even knowing what the evil was, were brought into consideration and withdrew wherever one hoped to be saved by seeing others doing so. For it was not possible to receive the enemy while gathered in battle order; for he who was leading them was himself also in confusion from the suddenness, and was considering where he should flee. Therefore, keeping few around him, and especially those most intimate and whom he trusted most, he made his retreats from the fearsome along with them, and at the same time encountered other fearful things, so that some escaped while others stumbled, and before the fear of the former had subsided, he received greater ones. For even the very heights of the mountains provided a phantasm of enemies, with a speechless cowardice having fallen upon them. But the evil was also reported in another way; for there was no one who, while approaching or even appearing, did not report fear as soon as he was ready. And if somewhere it was prepared

^A to descend against the enemies, those around him—having crept into the fortress of Aenos because of the magnitude of the danger—were seized, looking only to their own salvation. With difficulty, then, aided by the nights and by bypasses, he ascended Mount Ganos, leaving the others to seek where they might be saved. For he was mostly despairing of those coming behind, as they were destined to be captured. These were the ones who were transporting the imperial treasury, and those around Sultan Azatinus. He, having gone under the mountain, sending out couriers, began on the one hand to watch the enemies approaching so as to escape them unnoticed, and on the other hand, he arranged for a fast-sailing trireme to approach the mountains as quickly as possible. And indeed, changing from place to place, he cleverly escaped notice while they were present, and learning that his own [trireme] had arrived having been readied, he came down with the others, boarded, and was saved at Constantinople. The others, scattering everywhere in Thrace, some were captured, and some, contrary to expectation, were also saved. But those of his household, to whom the public treasury had been entrusted, and with them those around the sultan, having with difficulty escaped the hands of the enemies, breathed again ^B in the fortress of Aenos. Nor, however, was the respite from their labors long, but they, having learned about the sultan, and that he was waiting at Aenos, and along with the others having gathered there in full force, and having assembled with Constantine, they besieged the city and did terrible things, being clear that they would make it desolate. They skirmished, therefore, daily, encircling the fortress, and threatened the worst to those inside if they did not surrender. But they, seeing that the terrible things were close at hand for them, and that there was no escape for their affairs if the multitude should persist, not even considering it for a moment, and seeing also that the fortress was as if razed and would give way at once if it were struck by siege engines, were in dire straits. Yet they did not neglect to provide for their own salvation. And in turn, those in charge of the public treasury were in greater perplexity than could be borne, as to how such a heap of wealth—as much as was seen in coins and as much as in various forms—might be saved. And considering it of more value than their own lives, and deeming it a terrible thing if, even with them having fallen, the public [treasury was lost] ; they besieged it, fighting as fiercely as they could, and openly showing that they would destroy the town and the fortress. Therefore, surrounding the fortification, they attacked it continuously by day with arrows and missiles, and threatened the garrison with the most atrocious things if they did not surrender. Those who were inside, however, feeling that they were caught in a trap, and with the fire—the inevitability of the evil—already having begun to scorch them, were restless and anxious and all but lost heart, in no way equal to repelling the assaults of the enemies ^C if they should rush in with full force, which seemed likely soon, for they saw that they were so inferior in number to them; and furthermore, they were penned in a weak and half-ruined fortress, the remaining parts of which were not of such solid construction as to be able to withstand the impulse of the siege engines soon to be moved up from everywhere. Nevertheless, in such great evils, mindful of their duty, they omitted no part of diligence and foresight, striving by every means to save both themselves and the fortress committed to their charge. Amongst these, a particular concern was the custody of the imperial equipment and public money, and as they weighed the moment of the situation and the debt of their own duty, they determined that it was their part to pour out their lives rather than to afflict the State with irreparable damage by handing over such a treasure into the hands of the enemies. Determined, therefore, to contend with every effort and industry in guarding the deposit of such value, they first stripped off the most precious gems and pearls from the veils into which they were woven, and together with the imperial ornaments and that which was of more exquisite value in the whole store, they buried them in the most hidden places underground and entrusted them ^D.

to the protection of the earth. They also stripped the jewels from their garments and hid them in secret, along with the imperial regalia; and whatever was bright and precious, they left behind, themselves preparing to fight along with the rest, and as far as they had strength, they readied themselves, shooting from within with bows and slings. But they accomplished nothing of note; for the enemy prevailed by their number, and having prepared ladders, they attempted to scale the walls; for the enemy were spurred on even more by the hope of the wealth that was as yet to be acquired, and they pressed on as if already grasping the spoils. But these were the thoughts of the common multitude, to whom there was nothing else at stake but gain above all else; but those in command, and those whose concern it was, while they indeed had the thought of gain—having such from those others and from outside the country at the ready, even exceeding the satisfaction of their own desires—they nonetheless considered it a matter of ridicule if they should fall short of what had been proposed from the start. Hence, having sent word after the onset of the desperate circumstances, and to show that they were capable of prevailing and had everything in their control, they placed all their hopes on the Sultan alone, and demanded that he, together with his people and money, ^B and from there they gave assurance of safety. To those who heard this, the counsel was divided: for to some it seemed better to concede freely what would soon be extorted by force, and by a benefit to redeem the destruction which was looming equally over themselves and the others, which they were striving to defend with a foolish obstinacy beyond their strength. Others dissented from these, arguing in opposition that such destruction as was feared from the enemies was more justly to be feared from the Emperor; who, if they should cast off their sworn allegiance through terror, would likely punish them with the unavoidable penalties of the laws. Wherefore, they said, the mind must be steadfast in the constancy of resistance, and patiently await the forces of the Emperor which would, without doubt, come to their aid before long; for a prudent prince would not neglect to save his own wealth, having sent a fleet with vigor which would bring aid across the open sea, sufficient to lift the siege: or if that were lacking, they judged that the head of the Sultan, once cut off, should be thrown from the wall above to the enemies, for they would either withdraw, having awaited the outcome, or if they were driven by the slaughter of their friend to rush more fiercely upon us to seek vengeance, a desirable opportunity would be given to us to either seal our faith toward our Emperor by our death in fighting for him, or, if God should assist, by a glorious victory. When they had tossed these things back and forth ^C for some time, the middle opinion at length prevailed, deciding that they must persevere for now and await the Emperor's help, yet not entirely cut off the enemy's hope of surrender; rather, it should be nurtured with industry and simulation, so that they might be kept in suspense in their minds, and by tempering their final efforts and dragging the matter out, allow leisure for the help of our men to move hither: as their affairs ^D

^A required that they should be cared for in the best possible way, so that we might resist for as long as possible, however much the aid was delayed; and if, in the meantime, a greater force should press upon us, we should never come to the point of either cutting off or casting away the sultan's head; for that would be the deed of those acting in rash fury and fetching upon themselves a shameful death in insane desperation. But whatever could be defended with the strength at hand—or rather, the remnants of those half-consumed—it is considered to be kin to wise foresight, when the ultimate crisis presses, to barter them for one’s life and head. When all had agreed upon these decrees, they immediately sent men to promise the enemy that they would do what they commanded, after they had granted them some delay, by ceasing the assault, to take counsel. A truce was granted for that one day, but when they requested that it be extended, they could obtain nothing more; indeed, on the very next day, they were forced to contend with all their might against an assault that was most vehement on every side. ^B There was a struggle on both sides with all their strength, until the besieged, already growing exhausted and seeing clearly that they would soon be overwhelmed by the superior multitude, at length sent men to promise a surrender, but on the condition that a solemn oath first be given by the attackers before God and divine things. This embassy was directed to Constantine, with whom it seemed that discussions could be held more securely; and he, assenting to the offers—also by the judgment of the council and the commanders of the army—brought in the prelate of the place for the ceremony of the oath, who, having donned his priestly stola and bearing the sacred images in his hands, went forth with all his clergy to Constantine. He made no delay in confirming, with God as his witness, the faith of the promises he had made according to the forms of the oath, under the authority and nod of the bishop who was present. When he had returned to his own men, those who held the fortress immediately released the sultan, along with all his goods and his entire retinue. Once he had been received, the enemies ^C departed immediately, causing no further trouble, for the formula of the sacrament had expressly provided that, once the sultan was handed over to them, they would be content and seek nothing more. By this event, the power of the inescapable divine decree was made manifest, against which strength and prudence, however great, strive in vain.

On the day following that on which the sultan was surrendered, the emperor's triremes appeared at sea; and when they arrived, those who had kept the fortress, seeing that they were now all but entering the harbor, were seized by a late repentance for their hasty surrender. But what had been done could not be undone. Since they could do naught else, so as not to leave the emperor's goods and treasure—which had been preserved through such great perils—in any further jeopardy (especially in a region teeming with enemies, and those most rapacious), they drew out those royal treasures, having armed men stationed in two lines from the fortress to the harbor, and placed them on the triremes; then, they themselves embarked and set sail. Upon arriving at Constantinople ^D and reporting what had happened to the emperor, he was immediately inflamed with such great fury at the news that he was uncontrollable in his anger and did terrible things. He arraigned the prelate before the ecclesiastical tribunal, and he was judged, and came near to being in danger of his own punishment for having mediated in the acts that were performed; but the emperor scourged his own men, and, having disgraced them with women’s stoles to mock their cowardice, he removed them from his sight. And having sent the sultan’s wife and daughter, and furthermore his mother next page begins: τέρα καὶ ἀδελφὴν ταττομένας, καὶ τοὺς ἐκείνου παῖ- Α ἀπέλεγον μὴ ζητεῖν ; καὶ τί…

and sister, and his children with all who were with them, he committed them to safe custody. As for the quantity of the sultan’s wealth that was there in gold and silver, both coined and uncoined, and in distinctive veils, and also in stoles and girdles, and even pearls and precious stones—a vast amount, as they say, and sufficient for Persian luxury—he placed it all into the public treasury.

26. How the patriarch received the emperor upon his return, and with what reproof and zeal.

^A Meanwhile, before these things happened, since the patriarch had long tried to dissuade the emperor from going on a campaign against Christians, as it would not be successful and would surely stir up civil wars, the emperor—having returned to Constantinople in a manner unbefitting an emperor and having made his way to the Great Church to pray and offer the sacrifices of thanksgiving—the patriarch descended and immediately rebuked him, while also adding the prayers of thanksgiving for his salvation to God. “Thanks be to God,” he said, “that you have been saved, and that you have not been delivered into the hands of the enemies who seek your soul. For what of the things said to you by me at that time? Do you not remember how I stopped the expedition, saying that it would not turn out well, nor that you should push civil wars and ^B your forces into battle against the Despot Michael and his armies? Do not you yourself bear the name of Christ, and does he not acknowledge Christ as Lord? Among such men, I said then, when a battle has commenced, for whom shall we pray? For which side shall we ask victory from God, and for which side shall we ask ruin, while we are ministering the sacred rites? We could not consider either side as enemies, being bound to both by the common covenant of religion. The prayers we offer for you are of equal value for them, since you both equally belong to the one fold of the shepherd Christ. But now, blessed is the Lord who delivered you from ^C enemies alien to the law of Christ, whom He sent against you to remind you that you ought not to have sought them out as enemies, and that you should show them as true enemies, as if saying: ‘These are they against whom it is holy and righteous, if you wish to fight, to pour out the full force of war; yet even these, you would strive in vain to defeat in battle, were I not present, willing and propitious.’ He therefore showed you the enemies, and was satisfied merely to terrify them and ward them off, and he rescued you, transferring you safe and sound from the perils of ambuscades. Thus does the Lord know how to execute judgment.”

As the patriarch said these things, the emperor meekly received the rebukes and assented; for he had no way to contradict them as being just and manifest. He only replied, as if in his own defense, that the purpose of his journey had tended rather toward peace, and that it was a marital alliance that had stepped in to confirm the future treaties. The emperor, therefore, having said this (for the time did not allow him to say more), was sent away

with the patriarch praying well for him at his departure. The marital alliance, moreover, of which mention has just been made, was as follows:

27. Marriage alliance between the emperor and the despot Michael, ^B Anna, daughter of Eulogia, sister of the Emperor, given in marriage to the despot Nicephorus, son of Michael.

Since the emperor had often sent forces and attacked the region of the West, and upon engaging the enemy had always been repulsed (for Michael was employing Italian auxiliaries and, being firmly established, was resisting with great strength so that the attacker achieved nothing, but rather was incurring losses through wasted efforts), finally, after much experience, the despot having beseeched him and by frequent embassies having mollified the emperor, he too inclined toward peace. And since Michael had three legitimate sons—of whom John was in the hands and power of the ruler, having been sent by his father and surrendered as a hostage by his mother who had come for the sake of reconciling the agreement, whom our account has shown above to have been made son-in-law to the sebastocrator Tornikios; while two were with their father, Nicephorus and Demetrius; and another, John, born of a concubine—Demetrius was at that time just entering adolescence, was immature for state affairs, and continued living in idleness. Nicephorus, however, was a widower, his wife, the daughter of the Emperor Lascaris, having recently died. They decided by mutual consent to join him in ^C marriage to the third of Eulogia's daughters, Anna, who already possessed the title and dignity of despot, received from his father-in-law, the Emperor John, by reason of his former betrothal. Accordingly, having sent Anna with a large bodyguard and a splendid retinue, the emperor celebrated these nuptials. Then, having summoned Nicephorus to himself at Constantinople, beyond confirming his dignity, he sent him back home, having honored him further with greater marks of distinction and gifts.

And thus, having settled matters in the West, he gave his attention to the recovery of the East, which had long been suffering, by sending many others there and especially the despot John, upon whom he relied most, fully confident that he was a man suited for correcting and repairing all the damage in that region and for helping and shielding the peoples who were in danger, to the extent that it was necessary for their preservation under the empire. For when the emperor was intent upon the Western affairs and was taking every care to join again and restore those severed limbs of the empire to the body, it happened that the provinces situated at the eastern frontier were weakened and enfeebled for a double reason: first, because the troops that previously defended them ^D were being drawn away from there to the West; and second, because they were being neglected on account of distance in the urgent necessities and the present failure of affairs. But when, as I said, the West was pacified, the emperor, having sent forces to those parts, devoted as much care as possible to recovering them and brought them almost back to their former state. For such was the virtue and such the fame of the despot John that, once he appeared there, it was impossible but that the Persians should stay quiet, or rather, that they should be restrained with even greater fear and terror.

28. Concerning the false report that went forth about the Tocharoi invading the city of Nicaea.

First, then, at daybreak on that day, with the sun having ascended above the horizon by about thirty degrees, and while men were occupied with their labors—some spiritual, others bodily—a report was suddenly spread, not in this part of the city or in that, but in a circle all around the city: that the nation of the Tocharoi, ^B emboldened by their numbers, had slaughtered the guards of the gates and had entered the city with the most numerous and grievous assaults, so that in an instant they were ruthlessly butchering those who unexpectedly ran into them. The rumor was uttered and immediately enveloped the city. Consequently, leaping out of their houses in whatever state each person was found to be in, they ran out in disarray through the alleys and lanes; and as some were swept along from one side and others from another, they collided with one another. Both parties were beset by one and the same struggle; and just as if the evil were pressing upon both from behind, they collided, each party wishing to learn from the other what the rumor was and if what was being said was true. Neither the one nor the other could give any certain account, except that all were in agreement in asserting that these things were true. ^C Each one felt unsure about his own safety, yet felt no uncertainty regarding the rumor. While they were in this state, others came running from behind, lamenting the unspeakable slaughter and claiming to have seen with their own eyes the invaders hacking to pieces anyone they encountered, so that the sight of them was at once a death that was most pitiful. I believe that fear was creating phantom images of sufferings, and it was playing tricks on the eyes of those who were awake, fashioning things that did not exist and deluding the visual faculty, diverting it from the truth. For such is the power of insane fear, where it captures the mind ^D at this part of the city or in that, but late through the whole city in one sweep from all sides, that the Tocharoi nation, relying on their multitude, had broken into the city after slaughtering the gate guards with the most rapid and savage assault at once, such that everywhere people were being cut down in the most inhuman way in an instant by those they met unexpectedly. And this rumor, once uttered, simultaneously filled and seized the whole city. People sprang out of their houses in whatever garb each was found to be in at that moment of the affair, running in total confusion through the streets and narrow lanes, rushing here and there, colliding with one another in a reciprocal clash, with effort on both sides that was contrary but equal; for into this they were being pushed by the opinion of the evil that each perceived to be instant at his back. They struck against one another and asked what this fame might be, and whether true things were being reported. But neither these nor those could confirm anything. However, all were asserting with a unanimous voice that it was true; for even though each was uncertain of the counsel regarding the way and manner of placing his own safety in a secure place, he felt so certain about the truth of the spreading rumor. While they were in this state, behold, others came running from behind, lamenting miserably the unspeakable slaughter, reporting that they had seen it with their own eyes—that the enemies were cutting to pieces limb by limb whomsoever they met; and it was a difficult judgment whether that cruelty of the slaughter was greater, or the spectacle itself more sad and miserable. I believe that terror, an invading part of Morpheus, had cast certain tetra-shapes of sleep before those who were awake, and just as sleep usually deludes the imagination by night, so it mocked the eyes in the daylight, showing things that were false. Indeed, such is the power of insane fear, where the mind...

^A catching hold of something fearful, makes it an object of sight, as if it had been darkened to those outside by the abundance of cowardice; and, looking in its own way, it paid heed to it as if it were a reality fashioned by fancy, and one surmised only what one imagined. For what purpose did it serve them to make certain of things that did not exist as if they had substance? Those who heard from people coming from the opposite direction drew back and ran home; some sought to slip into corners which they thought sufficient for their own safety, and some opened up the tombs of the long-dead and crept inside, while others entrusted themselves to secure places. Others, however, considering it a manly and courageous thing to do, donned armor, used spears and shields, and sought out a leader. There was at that time a man appointed to the protection of the city who was not well acquainted with ^B war, but rather with profits—Nicolaus the Manuelite—who held the honor of presiding over the city. There were others, too, very many of them, steeped in military experience, to whom it did not for a moment occur that the rumor so often bruited about might be false, but a common fear was deeply ingrained in everyone. And they wished not only to save themselves, but also the whole city. Armed, therefore, they ran through the entire city, ^C dashing forth from there with impetuosity. They saw nothing of what was being bruited about, but heard only wailing and groaning as if the city had been captured and the disaster were already upon them. The events presented the unmistakable appearance of a captured city, except that it was not from the actions of the perpetrators of these grievous deeds that it appeared so, but from the lamentations of those suffering the effects of capture. For no one empty was calling to another empty person as if to seize him for plunder, nor was someone already full of booty inciting another to do likewise. Rather, as if driven out of their minds by fear and stumbling against their own acquaintances as if they were strangers, they even suspected their friends of being enemies, refraining from killing them only because they were themselves guarding against being killed by them—such wretched men were they, and miserable was the fervor of each one of them! Then, even those ^D who were shackled in iron in the prisons (for many of the defeated enemies had been condemned to the prison of oblivion in Nicaea, as they would not easily escape) saw the common confusion and believed the enemies had entered and taken the city; this they judged not from anything they saw of them, but from the din of the inhabitants they observed. And so, having been freed from their foot-shackles, they were in the rear guard of the phalanx that was running ahead,

not because they wanted to fight or exact vengeance from the enemy, but because they gladly embraced the opportunity for freedom, such as it is, that had been offered to them out of weariness of their imprisonment. This rush of all those going thus was directed toward the gates of the city. A confused multitude of the people followed, as each one shuddered for himself, while considering how weak he was by himself to repel an encroaching evil, and thus attaching himself to the many; the sum of the errant thoughts of those moving thus was either that they would immediately die if the first of the armed men, whom they were following, fell by the iron of the enemy rushing in from outside through an open gate; or, if they used better fortune to repel the entering barbarians and by falling upon them with greater force restrained their violence, those individuals whom we said had slipped past the guards did not despair of finding in the common trepidation a way to provide for themselves privately, bursting out through the open doors together with the retreating enemies, and thus finding an escape somewhere. In the end, however, of this journey they found their own mockery and laughter. For when they had arrived at the gate for which they had intended, they did not return with the same heat and anxiety of mind with which they had come, but having proceeded tumultuously and in disorder, they retreated calmly and securely, since they found the guards of the gate sitting in quiet and as yet having no sense of the things that were being transacted through the city. Whence they were distressed for one reason, that they had been deceived, yet they were not yet free from all anxiety, considering that it could have happened that the enemy had penetrated into the city through other gates. Indeed, when they had thought more attentively, that very ^C excessive security, which they saw, moved and increased the anxiety of the guards themselves, imagining that the guards of the other gates, perhaps loosened by equal negligence, might have been easily overwhelmed by a sudden incursion of the enemy, and had offered the Tochari access into the city.

Wherefore, anxious once again, they divided themselves into two parties; and they approached the other two remaining gates (besides the Eastern one, which they saw was free from the calamity, and the maritime one, by which no one suspected that the enemy could have come); but when they did not find even in these any damage or suspicion, they breathed again, and their minds were clearly relieved of deep perturbation. Nevertheless, being still uncertain where to turn, where they might lie concealed, or from where the enemy had burst in, they were searching by looking around everywhere—saying, "What is this? Are we to think that they flew over the city through the air with wings?" But when finally they explored that very gate which faced the seashore and found it likewise free from all fear, and had been mocked and derided by the guards there, who were also reproaching them for their error and credulity, they then breathed freely from all dread, and with minds now eased, they investigated what the origin of the false opinion had been or who the author of the lying report was. For they assumed that it was not, clearly, by some rumbling of the earth that the voice which had announced that the enemy had entered had been produced, but that primarily some individual had been the messenger of a vain fear. But after they had spent a long time and been diligent in that inquiry, exploring everything around, they could find nothing else except a lying rumor born at many places at the same moment, growing simultaneously, and simultaneously filling the ears of the multitude and overwhelming their minds with empty terror. Only one cause of the public error, which rested on some semblance of truth, was mentioned: a supplication that was by chance being led through the city at that time, and the image of the Theotokos being carried around, as is the custom, upon a *thensa* during the procession solemnized on that day, with a crowd of women following and with the chant which is accustomed to be shouted in supplications by those praying to be delivered from evil, and, clearly, the things which at that time they most feared, distinctly

naming those whose liberation was to be requested, and not without wailing they repeated: "Defend us, O God, from the Persians; rescue us from the Tochari; protect us, O God, from the barbarians." As the fearful race of women, and the even more faint-hearted among them, shouted such things ^B more intensely, it is credible that those voices struck the ears of certain others who were busy with other things, and that by the very novelty and the tone, which instilled dread, many—as the rumor spread without investigation—were absurdly seized with the belief and conviction that those very people whose names they had heard were entering the city. For fear that the initial error might be quickly discovered, the perturbation born instantly from the dire mention had taken hold, and widespread conviction had sown it along with fear; thus they reasoned, conjecturing how the city's tumult and that insane panic had arisen and grown. But the emperor, when he later learned how this had happened, not only compassionately sympathized ^C with them in their error, but also, in letters he wrote, reproved the leaders and foremost men not at all perfunctorily, denying that it was the action of prudent men, or of those who possessed even a modicum of common sense, to have been so quickly and excessively disturbed by an unverified rumor—since they ought first to have investigated upon what foundation the rumor rested, especially since it reported things that hung together so poorly. For how could the enemies be within the city and at the throats of the citizens, when it had not even been heard that they were approaching from outside, nor that they were besieging the walls or moving towers against them? How could those who a little before were said to be lingering in Persia, suddenly having taken the wings of a bird, be standing above, imminent over their very necks, having in a moment traversed such a distance where there were also Roman fortresses and garrisons? By reproaching them through this letter with these and like things, the emperor was acting to make them more cautious in the future in the face of similar occurrences.

IV. Here begin the affairs regarding the Patriarch Arsenius.

^A The emperor, having thus far been entirely focused on soothing the patriarch and wheedling him with every service to persuade him to be more mild and to loose the bond of the anathema he had imposed, after he perceived that he was accomplishing nothing and completely despaired of a better outcome for this request of his, changed his course and set his mind vigorously upon the plan of removing him by any means possible. To prepare for this, he often convened the prelates and, bearing witness, exposed the straits by which he was constrained, ^B "caught between, on the one hand, the inescapable necessities of the empire which demanded the attention of the others, and which, if it were as it should be, a man striving and laboring might be dispatched, and, on the other hand, the opposing hardness of the patriarch, who obstructed him and dragged him, as it were, bound by the dire chains of an unspeakable anathema. Let them consider these things, and see if it were not more equitable for them to come and share with him in the public concern against this untimely and blameworthy obstinacy. The patriarch, whose role it is to apply a remedy to those who have fallen, has inflexibly hardened his mind in the pursuit of one of these two things: either that what has been changed by my sin be restored to its former state; or, if this cannot be done,

^A that the one who has been stung by his own conscience through the loss of the empire and wishes to pursue the offense in a private capacity, who genuinely wishes to repent, and who is clearly willing to accept the remedy, even if it were to be structured by cautery, is turned away—he conjoins despair with repentance, as if it were better not to repent than, having repented, to despair; for the former accuses one of insensibility, but the latter of eternal perdition. That he himself, even though he has approached many times, is sent away, and even though he seeks the methods of healing, does not receive them, but rather is reproached, and in the end learns nothing else except that there is a necessity for the wound to be healed, yet without learning how it might be healed, but rather being urged to act while knowing nothing of what ought to be done, or even suspecting the whole thing to be a mockery. It is time, therefore, to fear whether he, even while acting, might take up the offense—as if no one were sufficient—he might not receive it, and thus, having labored, I shall realize it was all in vain. That which he even obliquely signifies, if you were to hear it, you would know what is generally beneficial. [P 171] For he would not be able to ^B wish to pursue the offense in a private capacity, as you desire. But I do not find at all to whom it would be beneficial to consider this. For on public matters, it is self-evident at once, and there is no need to learn by asking; for while it is not within one's power to manage affairs, and when it happens, to withdraw—to deem solitude as something great—is nothing else, I think, than seeking a common bane and, like a Telchines, demonstrating it. But he who touches upon my own affairs even more distinctively than others—I would have extended the speech far, even if I were not able to demonstrate the harm from a single point alone. For what surety do I have to live peacefully again, having surrendered my authority? And what of my wife and children more? For whom, it is necessary to lie in wait for a fate which even a random person would not rejoice in. I do not have a dispute with him regarding his spiritual wisdom, even if he were to order something; for the time being, however, I am far from praising him in these matters. For where and among what nation has such a thing sprouted? And looking at what example...

Is there no hierarchy that might blamelessly hold ^A this view, and share it with us? Does it not know that life, once having tasted such a total change, has no way of ending other than by reverting? For by how many dangers is an empire besieged? And in how many has faith grown cold, while the imperial dignity is preserved, yet the Emperor, even when he has abdicated, is forced to hope for restoration? Even if they themselves do not act to harm him in other ways, yet toward him who once stood at the head of the government, as it is natural to feel rivalry, so it is easy to foresee the worst outcomes. Why, then, was there a need to bring him to power, whom it was desired to bring down again after but a little while, as if to let him taste it only to deprive him of it? Apart from these things, we believe that God, if He intends any other great matter, also understands the establishment of an empire. But to wish to scatter the counsel of God is ^B both arrogant and dangerous for those who dare it. Reflecting on these things, you ought to aid the justice of the empire, and not so neglect us, who are so greatly stifled by these reasonings.

What then? Has not penance been appointed for the Church? Are not its divine laws set forth? Do you not heal many according to those laws? Or are the laws of the Church different toward emperors than they are toward the multitude? If indeed they are, but if they are not the institutions of penance among you, they exist elsewhere in the churches, and I shall run to them and be healed by them. For my part, my mind has been spoken, but it is for you to deliberate with him [the Patriarch] on what must be done. For I will not endure any longer to suffer these things that are past remedy. For it is good either to be healed among you, or to seek the mode of healing elsewhere." ^C When the Emperor had spoken these things to the bishops, and had, as it were, skirmished at the start of the battle, those who were troubled by each of the things being said were clearly not accepting the Patriarch’s position regarding the Emperor, and for this reason, they themselves were putting forward many arguments and at the same time weaving them together to find a remedy, ^D while the lot of life such as hardly a common man who is easily satisfied might endure, would immediately confront him. While I reflect upon this, even if I would not bluntly deny that there exists perhaps a spiritual prudence in the Patriarch regarding other things which he prescribes, yet I could never be brought to believe that he, justly and wisely, could impose upon me, in the name of a medicinal penalty or a salutary penance, such a weight of detriment and calamity as this most pernicious exauctoration—involving my fortunes and my very life—contains. For where in the world, in what nation, have we ever heard that such a thing had happened? And by whose authority, pray, did he permit himself to excuse or even commend such a novelty, as if he had looked upon it as an exemplar? Or is it unknown that he who has been raised from private life to the empire, and has once tasted power, is shown no other condition than one conjoined with the most present danger of death, should he be forced to resume his former fortune? For a principate is always besieged by the snares of many; and the faith and love of most subjects toward a prince are displayed outwardly as a mere vain surface of obedience, having nothing solid within. Wherefore, it is necessary that he who was once forced to restrain the hatreds of the malevolent by nothing but the reverence of his power, once he is stripped of the protection of the empire, becomes exposed to the darts of envy, and is attacked by the insults of those who either openly oppose or secretly favor the opposition, against which he cannot safely stand. When it was proper for all just and wise assessors of affairs to weigh these things among themselves, it was most fitting for him who himself had first raised me to the empire by his own vote to involve me in this business, which is so invidious and exposed to offenses. Whence it is the duty of him who did the deed to defend it, not to act in such a way as to procure my exauctoration and, through it, to arm against me the envy of my rivals, so that the supreme honor he conferred might be turned into my ultimate destruction. For what was the point of raising to the highest pinnacle one whom he would, a little later, pull down thence to final ruin and cast away? [255 v.] But if some human matter of greater moment is adjudged by God to be a concern of special care—and we commonly and deservedly think that the election of someone to the Empire is a matter in which some more diligent providence of the Divine always intervenes—who does not see how rash, how insolently arrogant, and finally how dangerous to those who dare it, such a decision should be considered? Reflecting on these things with you, it is just, Fathers, that you should exert yourselves to have regard for the imperial dignity, as is right and pious, and not neglect us, who have for so long been miserably suspended and boiling in a poverty of counsel. For what is this? Has not penance been defined by the Church for those who ask? Have not its divine laws long since ordained this? Do you not daily cure, by these laws, whomever you must (and very many such are offered), by prescribing salutary satisfactions? Are emperors in a worse condition? Or does the Church wish them alone to be excepted and excluded from her universal indulgence toward her children, nor allow them to enjoy the benefit of the laws established for all? Answer whether it is so; declare, I say, that there is no place for penance among you, nor that you receive the one who is repentant and who seeks that salutary penalties be imposed on him to purge himself of his sin: then it will be my part to take counsel, and to seek elsewhere the necessary thing for which there is no supply here. There are other churches in other places: I will go to them; I will seek penance from them and I will obtain it. I have set out for you the innermost feelings of my soul: I leave it to you to consider, and to consult with the Patriarch himself, what is appropriate to be done. For I will not endure any longer to be cast aside for the sake of the person entrusted to me. Already, I say, it is fully decreed for me either to receive the mode of cure from you, or to seek it elsewhere." When the Emperor had spoken such things to the bishops, and through these things as it were the first

^A velitatione auspicato prælium, they signified their sorrow at each of the points that had been made, declaring that the harsh and severe stance of the patriarch toward the Emperor was by no means pleasing to them. And for that reason, after much discussion and debate between them, they showed themselves prepared to offer the Emperor a path to reconciliation. They did not, however, go further at that time than to promise that they would intercede with the patriarch as effectively as they could, urging him to send an embassy of suppliants to the patriarch on his own behalf, to which end they promised to cooperate with all their might to obtain what he requested.

2. How the Emperor sent Joseph, the head of Galesios, to the patriarch, seeking absolution from the excommunication.

^A The Emperor therefore ^B sent many others one by one, asking the hierarch to relieve him of his grief, as he was ready—as he promised—to fulfill whatever was commanded. Finally, he sent Joseph, the abbot of the monastery of Galesios—who was indeed more commonly called by the name Galesios—a spiritual man who had been established as a father to the Emperor, begging him to receive the embassy and to assent to the request. But the patriarch, though he was beseeched by the bishops—who argued that it was not worthy for the Emperor to be held under such a penalty for so long—and though he was similarly importuned by that spiritual and divine man, who asked him that he should differently manage the discipline and, having loosed the bond, might impose upon the Emperor that which was fitting, he was, on the contrary, ^B even more ^C harsh toward those who were sent, and he opposed Joseph himself with spirit, as he dared, so it was claimed, to undertake the Emperor's reception against his (the patriarch's) will. And an account also gained currency among many that he had even rebuked him for that which he had not received spiritual authorization to do; whether this actually happened and was concealed, or was violated and then dissolved, or remained indissoluble, or whether it was merely rumored not to have happened—as Joseph himself, when he later became patriarch, insisted in his own apology—nevertheless, a great storm burst forth from this upon the Church, as the Arsenites, who were divided, set forth this strong accusation against him during his patriarchate.

3. How a libel of accusation against the patriarch was given to the Emperor.

^C Then, therefore, while the month of Boedromion was passing and the usual fasts were being celebrated, during the feast which it is customary to call the Akathistos, one of the clergy who served among the notaries to the patriarch—following their primicerios, whom most are accustomed to call "the Mediator" (Mesites) as a mark of honor—by the surname Epsepopoulos, ^D of his own accord handed to the Emperor a libel filled with accusations, at night after the end of the hymn.

^A The Emperor, having called together those of the clergy who were present, asked them at the same time if they were privy to what had been done by Epsepopoulos. Since the listeners would not assent, save for one or two, he inquired about the articles [of the accusation], and of what reputation was the man who had handed him the libel. When the clerics gave the giver of the libel a mediocre testimony, but excused the crimes, the Emperor, supposing immediately that it was impossible that he did not have accomplices who would so eagerly throw himself into such a contest, took the written paper and held it, awaiting an occasion from it as if for a lion—the fierce quality of which he was experiencing—now that he had him in his power. He soon appointed a day for the examination. The articles contained in the libel were, to speak of each individually, essentially these: first, that at the beginning of the morning hymnody, the psalm for the Emperor had been cut by the Patriarch, who ordered that only the Trisagion and the commemoration upon it serve as a preamble; second, that he had shown himself too prone and familiar with the Sultan, so much so that he had permitted him and his companions to wash themselves frequently in the church's bath, where the symbols of the venerable cross were carved into the marbles, even though they were Hagarenes and strangers to the mysteries of Christ; third, that he had ordered the holy relics of the Eucharist to be communicated to his sons by his own monk, when it was not clear whether they had been initiated by holy baptism. Furthermore, the Sultan himself, with his ^B satraps, had been present at matins on the day of the bright and great Lord's Day [Easter], while the Patriarch celebrated the litanies, and had recited the litanies along with him. These things and others of this kind were contained in the libel. Furthermore, it was not entirely unknown to the Patriarch what was being done; nevertheless, he entrusted everything to God and kept quiet. The Emperor, having finally seized upon the papers, gathered the high priests who were then residing in Constantinople, and he put before them the writings that had been delivered to him, and requested that they consider together with him what he ought to do. For there was no reason to delay a matter that seemed to open a way to the goal at which he had long been aiming, even if it did not seem entirely sufficient to intimidate the Patriarch. For the latter, although not yet summoned to speak for himself, was answering the accusations—the first being about the psalm, saying that he himself had been the one to authorize that this psalm be sung at such a time, as was customary for the monks, and [that he] had introduced the use of it in the Church; but that he himself had subsequently disapproved of it and revoked it, as it seemed that the Trisagion with the commemoration were sufficient for the completion of the prayer. ^C And he would justly be able to defend himself: if he were to perform this [action] in this way, with the Emperor being in that state, how could he justly be accused if he had relaxed the strictness of the whole? As for the Sultan's [men] washing in the bath, he said that he neither knew of it nor ordered it. "For if they were justly to be excluded from all baths, this would be no less than from the one [that belonged] to the church, since the other [baths] are also graced with figures of the cross and holy images." But if this does not prevent their use from being permitted there, however much they may be strangers to the true religion...

why then should they be driven out from the bath of the church? But as for his conduct toward the Sultan and his sons, to have acted as one does toward Christians is, I believe, irreproachable, since he did so on the authority of a reliable witness, namely the Bishop of Pisidia, who vouched that they were such. But if it should be proven that they were by no means Christians, the blame for that action would be ascribable to him (the bishop) alone, and not to me."

But these arguments did not seem sufficient to those around the emperor to clear the patriarch of the accusations; rather, he wished to convene a synod of all the bishops, with there also being present in the city two patriarchs, Nicholas of Alexandria and Euthymius of Antioch. Whence, through imperial letters, he summoned the bishops from all sides so that, once the feast was passed, they might arrive without delay, with no excuse serving as a pretext for refusal. Thus, they gathered together in full strength, and the affairs concerning the patriarch began to be investigated by those assembled with greater care. ^B

4. How and where the matters regarding the patriarch Arsenius were investigated.

The place of their synod was the imperial Alexiac triclinium, chosen so that the ruler might preside, and the nobles and all who held high office might sit with him, the bishops might hold their seats, and the entire senate might be present. There were also present the leaders of all the monasteries along with their respective superiors. Nor was the most conspicuous and eminent part of the civil administration absent. And the accuser, coming forward into the midst, presented a petition. As it was read in the hearing of all and it seemed proper that the patriarch should be summoned, they sent three of the bishops and three of the clerics to call him to come and present his defense. ^C But he refused utterly, saying that while he did not reject the judgment, he did shun the manner of the trial, the location, and the persons—for which objection there was no lack of legal justification. For it seemed altogether unworthy and a matter iniquitously arranged that a patriarch should be judged in the presence of the emperor, in the presence of nobles and secular dignitaries, and in the palace to boot, especially when the emperor was disposed in such a way and was openly seeking an opportunity for vengeance. ^D As the patriarch spoke these things to those who had been sent, his words were committed to writing so that no calumny might intervene. Those who had been sent returned to the synod and faithfully reported everything to those who had commissioned them, and the assembly was dissolved. This happened a second and a third time, with certain intervals of time having passed—for those conducting these affairs were anxious not to omit anything that the canons might prescribe in such a case—but nothing more could be elicited from these missions and responses than simply that the manner of the trial was displeasing to the patriarch, and for that reason he refused to appear. To this, the answer of the Fathers, returned to the patriarch by his summoners, was that since it had long been considered right that the emperor be granted the preeminent place in the investigation of ecclesiastical affairs, it was neither just nor consistent with reason that the matters now being agitated, which were of the greatest importance, should be moved elsewhere or otherwise than in the presence and under the presidency of the prince.

5. How the patriarch came to the emperor and how he very nearly came to be deceived.

While these things were being done, the patriarch, considering...

that there was truly no other cause for these movements than the anger of the emperor seeking vengeance against him—in which pursuit there was the danger that he might add one evil to another as a remedy, that is, attempting to heal his hatred and rancor against the patriarch by securing the patriarch’s own condemnation, or rather by gratifying it—hoped that by a single encounter with the hostile emperor he might be able to prevent this crisis. Therefore, putting aside pusillanimity, he mounted a horse—a thing he was unaccustomed to do ever since he had arrived in Constantinople—and approached the emperor. The day on which these things were happening was the Lord's Day. The emperor, therefore, thinking that the long-desired remission of the anathema was being brought to him of its own accord (for that unusual riding by the patriarch, his unexpected arrival, and the likely conjecture encouraged him to believe that the patriarch had been driven by fear of the threatened judgment and the danger of impending condemnation to this attempt at conciliation), met him very humanely when he arrived, received him with benevolence and cheerfulness, and held him for a very long time in pleasant conversation.

^B When the time for the holy liturgy arrived and the ruler was already set to enter the temple, he sent one of his own men to alert those officiating at the liturgy, as was fitting, and commanded them that, as soon as they saw the emperor approaching, they were not to wait for him to go to the holy icons to pray, nor to delay for any other reason whatsoever, but that the deacon should immediately proclaim the "Bless," and the priest should bless God with a loud voice, as was customary, and begin the liturgy. This was entirely intended to achieve what the emperor was preparing for—to bring the patriarch together with him into the church and from there, silently, to manage and obtain the lifting of the sentence. And indeed, the arrangements for the holy liturgy had been prepared, and the entire clergy, having been instructed, were waiting for the emperor, who was expected at any moment.

The emperor, holding the patriarch by his sacred mantle, would stop at certain intervals—partly standing to converse, and partly leading him toward the temple. But when he finally set foot upon the threshold and the deacon cried out "Bless," and the blessing of the priest followed immediately, ^C the patriarch was startled by the unexpected act. Instantly perceiving the trick, he pulled back and slipped from the hand of the ruler, saying, "Why, you deceiver, do you steal the blessing, and why do you circumvent the Divine, being a man, when it is neither right nor beneficial to be tempted by you?" And furthermore, he added with reproach, "Are these things honorable and becoming to an emperor who professes to rule lawfully? Do you think that men, when they hear of such things, will be able to praise them, or even to consider them tolerable?" And with these words, he flew off like an eagle, leaving the emperor ashamed, and hastened away on foot as fast as he could through the iron gate of the triclinium. Where it was truly ^D evident that there is nothing else moving such things than the vindictive spirit of the ruler toward him, when he might be in danger of healing an evil with evil. Fleeing thus, [original-script column: see facsimile] he reached the sea, and having boarded a ship, he returned home. But the emperor, though full of indignation, and burning with deep inward pain at so shameful a repulse, nevertheless, with feigned magnanimity, proceeded to attend to the sacrifice, until the mass

^A was finished, and returning and standing in the Alexiac triclinium, having summoned those of the hierarchs who happened to be present and those of the clergy, he complained of the patriarch’s stubbornness, saying, "See how ignorantly he escapes from our hands! And if he appeared likely to be grieved, why did he even come to us? But as it seems, in striving to evade the proofs, he has unwittingly entangled himself all the more in the case. Let him not, therefore, profit any further from dodging the trial; but since the third summons ^B remains, let it, too, be convened when you are assembled; and if he appears, let him be judged, but if not, then it will concern you how you will pursue him for his evasion of the trial. As for my part, it must be left to God, that it may be ordered as is pleasing to Him." Having said this, and added with some foresight, and in an orderly manner, that the cause for which those who frequently reported to him regarding the affairs of their own churches were not heard was entirely due to the patriarch's enmity toward them, and that if that scandal were removed, they would see how much their prayers and expressions of will could accomplish with him, he ceased his speech.

On the day following this, after they had gathered ^C again, and after much had been said, and the emperor had offered a kind of refusal—as if he were not even willing to be present, were it not that the bonds of the Church allowed and compelled him—the remaining summons was sent, with hierarchs and clerks again mediating in this matter. But when the patriarch again refused to come, adding, "Whatever seems good to you, let it be done in my absence; for I would never appear, whatever happens," the hierarchs, after much deliberation, wishing to lean as it were upon the canons, ^D while they indeed had the canon of the Apostles regarding the evasion of trial which contributed much to their deciding what seemed best, nevertheless, wishing to act in safety, since these things were being done throughout the entire city, so to speak—the emperor managing it because of the suspicion of enmity that was being spread, and so that they might not again be divided when they learned what had happened—they brought Psētoupoulos into the midst again. The petition was read article by article, and the accuser was asked if he had witnesses who would testify. He replied, "For matters that are manifest, it is not necessary for this or that person to be the witness, but all together, since everyone is aware of the facts." As some from the clergy were selected

^A and asked concerning the Sultan, and whether, having joined in the liturgy with the patriarch, he had sat with him while the theological discourse was read according to custom, they immediately confessed that it had happened that way, but they claimed not to know whether the Sultan was a Christian or not; yet they did say that at that time they had looked upon him as a Christian in the full sense. Those, therefore, who were passing judgment were willing to accept only the fact that he sat with him during the liturgy; the matter of whether he was a Christian or not, they said, was something for them to investigate. Many were brought forward to testify to these things, stating that his reverence was not that of a Christian—though I do not know if this was the truth, or if they were merely trying to gratify the ruler. In the meantime, as we were later to learn—for these matters eventually reached their end—the Sultan, having sent word to the ruler after he had learned that the patriarch had been deposed for reasons having nothing to do with him, added this, along with other things he communicated, in a refined or rather a deeply cutting manner, requesting that he be sent the sacred items belonging to him, which common speech calls *encolpia*, and, if he wished, a cured leg of pork as well, that he might eat it as he desired. And this was, at that time, a direct refutation of the emperor regarding the patriarch, in that it showed his reverence for the divine icons, and ^B revealed, on the other hand, the nature of the emperor’s policy. At that time, as those who were deliberating about the Sultan considered it an unfinished matter, danger seemed to hang over the patriarch. There were others who attempted to press the accusations home more subtly, arguing that if he had truly been numbered among the Christians, it would have been highly improper for the patriarch to stay away from the Persian nobleman—for not even all of them, they said, were to be considered or held as Christians.

Now, when it came time to announce their decisions, most of them—or indeed all, save a few (this was Theodore of Pontic Heraclea, Alexius of Euchaita, and John of Brysis, and with them others—for Gregory of Mitylene, who paid much attention to the patriarch, when he saw the trial was pending, feigned illness and was absent, to whom the ruler, with sternness, sent me as a notary and ordered me either to appear or to submit his opinion; and he only with difficulty agreed to add his own opinion to those of Thomas of Larissa, John of Naupactus, and Germanus of Adrianople)—the rest, therefore, except for those mentioned, immediately cast their votes for the deposition of the patriarch, for the most part on the grounds of his refusal to appear for trial. For as to whether the Sultan was a Christian or not, they left it in doubt, as they thought it sufficient for the condemnation of the

^A accused that he was guilty of the crime of flight, just as they would consider it a crime in others. Others, however, stood against them with sufficient force, arguing that if the patriarch were to be tried for having communicated with non-believers, firstly, it was uncertain whether those people were truly non-believers, which would weaken the charge. But if, in truth, the Sultan was outside the fold of Christ, the patriarch was still not solely responsible for this, as the whole matter rested upon the witness—and that person was Macarius of Pisidia. If, then, the others who were Christians, and had been allotted to the divine sphere in whatever rank they were found, were also to be brought into judgment with the patriarch, it was also incumbent upon them ^B by necessity to remind the patriarch and restrain the defilement occurring there. That they, having overlooked these things, should establish a trial for the patriarch alone was not just at all, nor was it reasonably fair. Now the bishop of Pisidia, looking toward what was about to happen (for the charge was a demonstration that he too would be drawn into the condemnation—for they could not be thought to be condemning the patriarch justly if they did not also hold him accountable), remained sitting quietly. But the others cared so little for this that they did not even call him to learn from him the facts about the Sultan at the first. For a time, however, it was not possible for him to receive those who had been sent ^A for his sake, and it happened that, being exiled at the same time as he was deposed, or rather, that he also suffered default. And when many arguments were being stretched out at that time, in the end these also came together, willing or unwilling, with the others; the vote was ratified, and the patriarch was condemned to deposition. They broke up an impetuous assembly, to speak poetically, with the customary acclamations being given to the emperors. Moreover, two hierarchs were appointed by the hierarchs to go and signify to the condemned man the things that had been done by the synod.

7. How three prelates, having gone on the mission of the others, declared to the patriarch the matters of his deposition.

When evening arrived, they had met with him, and with the entire clergy present, they declared the decision and ordered him to prepare to leave. He, having first given thanks to God, showed himself ready and prepared to go wherever they might wish. Then, turning to the clergy, he said: "You know, my children, how my affairs have turned out, God allowing it; yet we must yield to the divine will, whatever it may be that Providence has ordained for us. We, having been appointed shepherds by the judgments known to the Holy Spirit, who called us although we were unworthy, yet as we were able, we have tended the flock and you, for the Church’s...

^A inner life is such that, even when we are burdened, you endure us as fathers, and when some things are burdensome, you likewise bear with those who cause burdens as if they were true members. Now, therefore, it is time to forgive one another our debts. And indeed, I, for my part, fulfill this and forgive everyone, and wherever it is pleasing to God, I willingly depart. As for you, as for the vessels and artifacts of the Church, and all that is within the precious veils, holy relics, and books, go and see each one, examine them to your satisfaction, and take them in charge, so that no one may accuse us of sacrilege. For the rest, rejoice in the Lord, children, and farewell. As for us, we take with us only our cloak, our writing tablet, and three coins, which we had upon entering the patriarchate in accordance with the rule of monks—these being acquired by our own labors from the copying of a Psalter—and we depart. Having said these things and other matters of this kind to the clergy, so that even some among them, in receiving the holy objects, were moved by this, he himself being of them.

Turning to those who had been sent, "Brothers," he said, "behold, I am prepared, and I shall not be troubled, whatever you may desire concerning me. That which is yours, as you say, has been accomplished. Let the Emperor do what remains, and let him command where we are to go from here, or rather let him send those who shall lead us away. For we shall not contend at all, even if he prepares a sword or even death." ^B Having said these things, he dismissed everyone in peace; he himself sat down, unconcerned about it all, awaiting the command from the ruler.

8. How the Emperor, having sent, leads the Patriarch out from the patriarchate, and what happened at that time.

It was night, around the end of the month of May, when the air is settled into a clearer state, having been freed from the hardships of the winter, having cast off much of the dampness. And indeed, at the first watch of that night, those sent by the Emperor arrive, in order to lead away the one who had been condemned to wherever they had been ordered. As he was being led down immediately, having mounted the Great Church and stood at the great doors, he rendered thanks to Christ the Master, worshiping and taking his leave. As he was about to exit through the eastern gate in order to reach the small cell of the wonder-worker Nicholas ^C located at the Barbara—which was at that time situated by the ^D

Barbara—which was at that time situated by the ^B sea—the clear sky was suddenly filled with a dark cloud, and a violent rain fell accompanied by hail; a strange wonder of lightning set the air ablaze, and the constant claps of thunder disturbed the ears of those who heard them. And he was dragged by those who were carrying him off through such terrible conditions until they reached the monastery. There, at least, having spent the day, on the following night they put him on a fishing boat and transported him around Proconnesus, enclosing him in the small cell situated there above the place that the locals of the area call Souda, and they stationed guards from the imperial retinue so that the exile could not be visited by any who wished to do so.

9. How the patriarchs of the East, he of Alexandria and of Antioch, were disposed concerning the deposition of the patriarch.

Having thus ordained affairs concerning him, since they thought it necessary that the patriarchs should also give their opinion on the matter, and the latter being requested, Euthymius of Antioch, who had long been impelled toward ^C acting against him, gave his consent, as he already felt a grudge for not being received into communion by him. And the cause was rumored to be—though I for one could not define whether it was true, yet the common people celebrated it in speech—that the Antiochene had communicated in some matter with the Armenians. Therefore, he eagerly seized the occasion for revenge and gladly embraced the deposition of his adversary, and added his own authority to the sentence, confirming it. But Nicholas of Alexandria was so far from approving the act that, having once and for all distanced himself from those who had condemned Arsenius, he never again admitted them to his communion, nor did he wish to change anything of what he had decided to the very end.

10. How the patriarch, when he was in office, wished to recall the bishop of Sardis as high priest.

^D Of the bishops, besides those former ones, Manuel of Thessalonica and Andronicus of Sardis, no one else was schismatic. We have said above that Andronicus had been tonsured as a monk. When Arsenius was restored to the patriarchal throne, knowing that he had been expelled for his sake and had donned the monastic habit to profit from his exile, he wished to restore him to his original state, but he was unable to elicit the consent of the other bishops for this. The matter was handled in this way. Andronicus consulted in secret with Arsenius, who was patriarch again, and from him he understood that it did not rest with him for him—having immediately laid aside the monastic patch—to resume his episcopal mitre once again: provided only that he saw to it that the will of the Fathers and of the synod was added. Having learned this, Andronicus decided to test the matter, and on a certain day, when the bishops were gathered with the patriarch (who was aware of the plan), he placed the episcopal mandyas on his shoulders and the headpiece on his head, and thus, sitting at the doors, he requested to be admitted. It was announced to the Fathers who he was, in what attire, and what he was requesting. It displeased the majority that he had dared, without their command, to resume the episcopal attire. Therefore, they rejected the man by their consent; and when someone produced a certain letter of his, to which he himself

had inscribed Athanasius with his own hand, it came about that the patriarch’s own impulse to assist him was blunted and the ardor of his zeal for him cooled, while he himself, having been repulsed, turned his mind toward embracing with greater constancy the quiet life which he had vainly attempted to shake off. But these things had occurred previously. At that time, however, many of the monks and of the lay order, separating themselves from the communion of those who had condemned Arsenius, gathered apart. They said, "Do not touch, nor handle at all," those who would agree to the deposition of the patriarch, or who would communicate with those who agreed. But the Emperor, since it was not right that the Church should remain without a shepherd, left it to the ^B bishops to vote for whomever they deemed fit; yet he himself, perceiving a profound matter and wishing to restrain the schisms, ordered a common assembly. And when all were gathered in the same place, from the window of his own chamber—which was fortified with iron rods, some upright and some transverse, intersecting each other and woven together in the form of a grate—he began to speak to them in this manner.

11. The Emperor’s address concerning the schismatics

[P. 185] "I imagine, O subjects of my empire, that none of you all has progressed to such a degree of foolishness as to be unable to use his own counsel, but rather must rely upon another’s. For even if seeking the opinion of others and conferring with one’s own is what those who deliberate are wont to do—whence also the Greek term for 'counsel' (symboule) is derived, as being a gathering together of two minds—yet this only has a place in matters where the judgment hangs in ambiguity, with balanced arguments on each side weighing the uncertain choice of affirming or denying. But where the right and the just incline toward one side with indubitable weight, so that on one hand what is proposed appears manifestly honorable and safe, while on the other what is presented is clearly seen to be harmful, then it is indeed vain and imprudent for anyone to abdicate the natural and innermost sense of his own mind and to use the counsels of others, which possess imprudence, greed, a prurience for novelty, and a certain persuasive sweetness for the inexperienced, joined with a restless tediousness for customary and daily affairs. You must, therefore, above all use your own minds and judgments as your authorities, and call to their examination those things which are suggested to you from elsewhere. For he who, having rejected his own reasonings, turns his mind to those offered from elsewhere and clings to them slavishly, is surely to be held as one confessing himself a fool and devoid of judgment. For it is the mark of a fool and of one utterly stripped of judgment to understand nothing of himself, but to receive whatever is offered from elsewhere with blind credulity, discerning nothing as to whether it be better or worse. And I do not see what benefit such a person could derive from counsel suggested by another. You know what has recently happened, ^C"

^A for it happened upon the authority of our command. For this has happened at other times as well. Yet, the fact that there is a difference in the causes will provide fuel for contention to some. At that time, a successor was substituted for one who had voluntarily resigned his position as patriarch; but now, as you know, since he has been deposed for specific charges, it is reasonable that another should be installed. He who has stumbled in his consideration of the past, [should] prepare the best course for the future. At that time, certain members of the unruly and uneducated mob—to whom the turbulence of the Church is a welcome thing—slipped into people’s houses, and from this came the schism. And even if we were present then, the brevity of the time stood as an obstacle to them in their disorder and to us in our pursuit of them. Something of this sort is being suspected to be happening now as well; for the disorder has not died out, as some who have seized upon [pretextual] causes are attempting to stir it up again and to tear asunder the Church of God. ^B To inquire after them—given that they have a nature, through constant habit, of lurking in corners and doing their work in secret—is, moreover, superfluous; but as for those who are so thoughtlessly led by their babbling, we shall not shrink from punishing the worst of them. For what—is someone perhaps scandalized? Because something in his opinion has been changed? No, nothing of our traditions has been violated, nor has the whole been breached. Is it because he has been turned away from his customary shepherd? No, one could say nothing [to that], even if one were to tire oneself out. But is it because, being under a shepherd—since he was persuaded by sufficient causes—you will not at all be prosperous [in the absence] of someone else? Nay, you will indeed be prosperous, and you will fare better, being pastured under him. For who from among you all has benefited from any action of his, or could possess the goods of our favor, which he might perhaps have fallen upon, though undesired by him? Why? And we have not brought you together here now considering how I might accuse our own authority; but I state the cause, and I do not conceal it, of why someone needing mercy might not obtain what is fitting through imperial consent. For neither are the things for us easy for him, so as to dissolve [this] hatred, nor do we [succeed] when we are not deemed worthy—not even by him—of his favor in regard to the one who is in need, where, even if he were deemed worthy, he would not obtain what is necessary. And, why must one conceal it? It is not that we are averse to doing good, but that he does not manage the favor with due regard. For we have learned that grace begets grace, and it was not [possible] to increase the grace that had been born without the one who had been born also being generated further. ^A For perhaps they might even say...

On the Schism and the Deposed Patriarch

^A For love that is born must needs grow, provided that another love, born after the former and called mutual love, or Anteros, arises with equal increase. Perhaps you may think me a storyteller when I say this. But a story that aims straight at the mark of truth is not rarely held to be useful and praiseworthy. Not wrongly did one of the ancients say that pride is neighbor to solitude, because no one cares for the proud, and no one approaches him, whence it happens that he is forced to live an isolated life, apart from the company of men. But what of the future? I say and assure you: you will experience a great change for the better. The kindly rays of our inherent beneficence will reach you, no longer intercepted by the cloud of patriarchal offense; nay, quite the contrary, with a pastor soon to succeed to the place of him who was cast aside and irreconcilable, and who will procure for you, through intercessions becoming that personage, the commodities you desire, you will feel the goods of every kind being poured out upon you. Only let no one of you allow himself to be led astray; nor, looking only to his own convenience, let him play in matters which do not admit of being played with, or attempt in earnest things which cannot be achieved. For the lapses of individual citizens who offend wrongly embroil whole cities in difficulties and disturbances, the nature of things being such that from one person sinning, punishment is propagated to the many. Flee, therefore, from conventicles; turn away from schisms. Many sack-wearers will insinuate themselves into your houses, not that they are eager for your good, but aiming at how they might provide for their own needs from you. ^B Then they will accuse the emperor; and mixing new things with old, they will suggest that the affairs of the Church are not in a good state, and for this reason, perhaps, that the remedy is being wrongly applied (for they themselves perhaps might even slander those who are doing wrong). What, therefore, must you do? To share what one has with others is no envy; let one do as he wishes in this. But to be brought under the sway of their words and to be led astray along with them seems to me neither tolerable nor safe for you. For this reason, the threat of punishment precedes the act, lest anyone, having experienced it in reality, should learn the hard way. For it is inevitable that the many be led astray by the few; and from this, who is so drowsy as not to seek to halt the rush? I, therefore, command every man and woman, both elder and youth, city-dweller and rustic alike, to first examine those who approach them, and only then, if he finds them good, to make use of them. For the sick should be helped by those who are healthy; but if those who are themselves corrupt in their judgment should approach them, what good could they provide to others? But as for them, perhaps time will show; but for you, who wipe off their wickedness and turn away from the right path, it will not turn out well. Even if they should escape, the charge will fall back upon you. I know that I am saying a great thing, yet it also seems so to you, that the crime of schism will be placed on an equal footing with apostasy, and he who is convicted of this will undergo the ^C penalties consecrated [for such crimes]. ^D

12. How Germanus of Adrianople is elected to the patriarchate, and what manner of man he was.

The emperor, having addressed these and other similar remarks to the people, was silent, giving place to the customary acclamations of the populace, and once the ^B assembly was dissolved, he sent each man home. The bishops, having received the authority to elect by free vote the person whom they deemed most suitable for the supreme leadership of the Church, all gathered at the holy and great temple of the Blachernae. After one had proposed one candidate and another another, in the end they all agreed upon Germanus, the bishop of Adrianople, a man of free character and one suited for the honorable performance of sacred duties, and who, moreover, had long enjoyed a favorable disposition from the emperor.

For the man was, in truth, a lover of beauty and a lover of learning to the highest degree, and knowing as he did everything good that might be useful in practical affairs, he was accustomed to prefer—often over mere praise—the person who possessed both readiness [of mind] and safety for the soul, and who lived in accordance with virtue at large, even though he might lead his life in society rather than in solitude. Whence, although he was not himself eloquent, he won over the eloquent by his wise and respectful habits, being a benevolent auditor of those who spoke, and an extraordinary professor of love for such men; through which things he attained [the esteem of the learned]—inasmuch as he loved the learning and wisdom that was in others, and seemed to possess much of it himself.

The virtue which he expressed in his life was not, however, that which the austere of today might praise, or rather, those who, with an arcane pride of conscience, deem themselves superior to the rest, ^C greatly pleasing themselves with a certain morose choice of foods and drinks, and by their own voluntary religion—beyond the common order assigned for specific days—affecting to complete their journeys on foot, which they also love to show off as always unwashed, sleeping on the ground, content with a single tunic, while yet putting mercy and charity—and furthermore, kindness and the human duty of grieving with the sorrowful—in the second place, and lastly, to sum it all up, discretion. These are certain harsh and supercilious censors, who set no measure or limit to criticizing and carping at everything they encounter, admiring only themselves, and pretending that they alone follow the right path of life, and that they alone possess wisdom, the power, and the glory of religion, while preferring themselves in all that they do.

Such was not, I say, the virtue of this man, but [one] of a far different kind, adapted entirely to the human capacity, as it is right for him to be distinguished who shows himself a true man through true humanity, especially as it befits one who is established in a position of authority, from whom it is not required that he be entirely devoid of perturbations, but that he have them in his power, tempered by a certain mediocrity; and if you remove discretion from such a life, you have lost everything from a single error. Being therefore adorned with such virtue—which some call "civil," and thus give the name "civil" to the life led in accordance with it, being a certain mean between the contemplative and the voluptuous—the aforementioned high priest of Orestias [Adrianople], having been preferred before the rest (for it was said...]

that he had practiced the greatest austerities of old in the monastery of the Black Mountain ^A located in the East), was requested to undertake the ecclesiastical prefecture of the city of Constantinople. With these [people], the emperor also, approving the choice, urged the man on, and for whole days, approaching him with all his might, he exhorted him and requested him not to reject the summons.

13. How Germanus is raised to the patriarchal see, and what he accomplishes.

And indeed, having been entreated, he yielded. And in the month of Maimakterion, on the feast of the Holy Spirit, he was proclaimed patriarch by a common decree, and having concelebrated the sacred rite with them, he took his seat on the holy throne and stood at the head of the others. But upon his reaching the throne, he judged that it was a work superior to all activity to honor with appropriate rewards of merit those who appeared to excel others in virtue and doctrine, some with dignities, others with all manner of bounties and gifts. For he was also a most profound despiser of gold, so much so that he deigned not even to possess a purse, but whatever was brought from anywhere, he ordered to be placed upon his pallet by those carrying it, so that being exposed there it would be ready for the needs of charity, to be distributed at his command wherever the needs of the ^B destitute might require. Such abundance of ease and simplicity in life provided this man with an accusation of license; but his modesty towards the emperor, and the care taken in dealing with him to avoid offense, cast upon him the taint of adulation and deceit in the eyes of many.

For because he, following a disposition sincere and free from all guile, was accustomed to address and receive anyone he met with a frankness secure from all suspicion, and because he permitted his own household a conversation of this kind equally free with anyone at all, this conduct, more secure for both sides, fell among the suspicious masses into an opinion of secret abuses. Furthermore, the pliant and modest way of dealing with the prince—from which he derived the confidence to suspend the effect of the patriarch's requests, doing so with that ambitious artifice of delaying a favor, the hope of which he did not take away, so that he might keep him as a suppliant and thus beholden to him for as long as possible—was the cause that when the things which the patriarch had received promise that he would obtain did not arrive on the day, those who had waited in vain complained that they had been given empty words by him; if, however, they knew that he had truly approached the prince, they judged it to have been done ^C by him too coldly and timidly—that is to say, flatteringly—and they missed in him the authority and firmness befitting the dignity of the patriarch, and for that reason held him to be less suitable for such a position.

These sinister judgments concerning Germanus, once they had taken root in the minds of many, flared up, with the torches of envy applied to them, into public offense, with many now regarding him as an intruder in place of the true patriarch, holding the Church unjustly snatched from an innocent man, and having dared impudently and recklessly to leap from the throne of the daughter to the throne of the mother (for that is how they called the churches). As these sentiments gradually grew, it happened that in the end he appeared so stained with the taint of this double crime that there was no one who could bear to say anything good about him, with the hatreds of both factions conspiring into one: namely, that which favored Arsenius, and the other which, following its own private interests, abhorred Germanus. Nor were there wanting malicious babblers, quick to slander, who called him in jest "Marmutzas," a name to him of Per- ^D

Persic origin, for the reason that his family lineage was near to the Lazi, and more remotely from the city of Gabra ^A in Persia. Meanwhile, reproaching the man’s character in this way, they disparaged him on the one hand as thoughtless and bold, as one who did not know his station, and on the other hand, as one who, through flattery, insinuated himself with the Emperor, bringing in his origin as being from the very place where his Persian lineage was acknowledged. Nevertheless, being an old man and possessing the ancient ecclesiastical instruction of the blessed Germanus, he restored many things of the Church’s order that had been neglected with time and carelessness.

14. How the Patriarch transferred Holobolus to the Church of God, honored him with the office of Rhetor, and appointed him a teacher.

The greatest point is that, being also a lover of learning and having become firmly attached to Holobolus—a man of natural talent and full of letters—the Patriarch considered him sufficient for the present need, both for his own consolation in the suffering that had been inflicted upon him, and for the education of the young clergy ^B of the Church. Thus, to have him leave the monastery of the Forerunner and be attached to the Church, he set it as a task beyond all other preoccupations to intercede for him with the Emperor, putting forward as the incitement for his request that, "Already Georgios Acropolites, the Grand Logothete, having labored for a sufficient time by your command, O Emperor, in delivering lessons, has now become exhausted; and there is need for others to be brought forward, and not least from those of the Church, inasmuch as it is necessary for these to advance in discourse, as they will be most useful for ecclesiastical needs. Grant, therefore, to us who ask as if interceding on behalf of the Church, and be reconciled with Holobolus, and accept him, and as is fitting, honor him and appoint him as a teacher to those who attend for the sake of logical education." And the Patriarch having said these things, the Emperor immediately agreed and bowed to the request. For in truth, he himself was also spurred on toward the ancient splendors of Constantinople, to the extent that he had established [two] bodies of clergy, placing one in the celebrated temple of the Apostles, the other in the church of the Blachernae, and had added singers as servants of hymns to the clergy ^C of the city.

to assign stipends to the clergy of the city, and also to organize a school for grammar at the ancient orphanages near the church of the great Paul, and to confirm both the teacher and the boys with annual stipends, so as to oversee the school at times, and to observe how each one and in what way he was progressing in his studies; there was even occasion for him to offer customary rewards, and if nothing else, to grant the boys a rest from their studies according to some ancestral custom. Moved by the petitions of the hierarch, ^A he suddenly relented and ordered the one previously condemned to be released. This man, having received this act, was rejoicing in many good things, and the patriarch, having sealed the appointment with his office, also named him a rhetor, and under him, as he taught, he opened up to all the school of learning.

15. How some of the palace were accused of high treason, and implicated the patriarch Arsenius.

In that same year, the crime of high treason was also brought against those around Phrangopoulos—who was a kinsman of the emperor—and others who were counted among them, twelve in all. They were said to have conspired against the emperor, and resolved to kill him as soon as they might find any convenient way to accomplish the deed, ^B if they were successful. A certain Carolus, by whom the story earlier showed the slaughter of the protovestiarios Muzalon to have been carried out, was also included, but he, not enduring to perpetrate evil by cooperating in the murder of the emperor, turned the whole ruin upon the heads of those who had plotted so great a crime, by whom he had been invited into their conspiracy. For he turned them in and revealed the matter; whereupon they were all suddenly arrested. Then, being tortured with rack and scourge to name their accomplices—and specifically being asked about the patriarch—they named no one else, but they declared that the patriarch had indeed been privy to their planned crime, whether from the truth or whether the force of the tortures compelled them to lie.

For those men, heavy judgments ensued, inflicting various punishments according to the nature of their sins. ^C But the patriarch was not excused from the crime imputed to him; rather, the emperor, holding back and even more vehemently pressing the case, brought the accusation concerning the synod, and acted terribly, as if he would not tolerate it if justice were not served. For he argued that if he brought them to justice for ecclesiastical crimes, then as for himself, if the one clearly accused were not to be subjected to another appropriate trial in the case of the charge against the emperor, he could not bear the whole state of affairs, even considering what he had previously suffered; for it was neither good nor just that he who ought to cherish the emperor should be abandoned to his enemies. As they were therefore deliberating ^D on this matter, it seemed good to send and

^A to ask him, and even if he should confess or even if he should not confess, to bring forward the penalty; if not, then to deliberate again. The emperor requested that the excommunication sentence of the synod be drafted on the spot, and that those whom they might appoint go and inquire; and if he confessed, the penalty which was just for one who contributes to those who would place a burden upon the emperor regarding the emperor, should be laid upon him; and if not, and even if he did not confess, the bond should remain and be hanging over him for whatever he is conscious of regarding these things, so that he might be held liable if he were eventually found to be acting wickedly, and if not, he should be free of the burden as one being unjustly slandered. The multitude of the high priests agreed to these things which the emperor required.

16. How the author, together with the high priests, is sent to him, and what happened to them.

And thus the document of the trial is drafted, and they choose with all speed two from among themselves: both the bishop of Neocaesarea, Monoconstantinus, being a friend and even more so to him, and the one of Mocessus, who was then presiding over the Church of Proconnesus by way of an addition [of duty], and from the clergy, Galen, who was in charge of the secreta at that time, and I myself was the fourth with them, compelled by force and by imperial command, yet partly quite willingly because I wanted to see the man to whom I was devoted in whatever way possible. On the twenty-fifth day of July, we boarded a ship ^B. He then held the twenty-fifth... and we, having boarded the ship, two days later reached the island, appeared before the patriarch, and discussions were held with him concerning the matters proposed. He was enraged at once, not bearing it even from the beginning, and he said with the greatest pain and anguish: "What evil have I done toward the emperor, if I, when he was a private citizen, raised him to the imperial throne, while he, having found me patriarch, deprived me of honor for no good reasons? And now I sit on this mountain peak like some dishonored exile, awaiting day by day the mercy of Christians. Nevertheless, those things which have happened are fine, these things are fine, and let the patriarch himself bless what is being done by him along with Eulogia." The discourse indicated the emperor's own sister, with whom he was greatly displeased because she had advised the emperor regarding the matters of the child John. But as the document was being unfolded to be read, he, having perceived from where the writing therein was coming, was strongly resisting and pulling away, not wishing to hear at all, and he was quickly retreating while it was being read so as not to hear. And as they were overtaking him as he was fleeing against what was proper, with moving and rapid ^C feet, he placed his ears to the appendages of his cap, so that not even

the reading of the letter might be heard. Finally, being distressed, he called upon heaven and earth with a very loud voice as witnesses to what he was suffering; and he judged it proper to pay no attention to where those who held him were speaking, but he would also answer them back, if indeed he deemed it worth his while to consider it at all, had they not pressed him heavily, and had they not greatly threatened that they would be punished by God if they persisted in any way. And as he said: “Well, indeed, would he who lately held the office of patriarch speak, while weaving a murder for the emperor, and we, having been cast away into this extremity, pray that God might be well pleased to accept his soul, even if he kills us in this wilderness by hunger and thirst as if we were condemned prisoners!” Having uttered these and other such things in anguish of soul and bitterness, partly reproachful to the emperor himself, partly to him who had been placed upon the throne, or rather having lamented them, he sent them away. We, having approached him again on the following day, and having accomplished as much as was set before us, immediately departed from the port; and as the north wind was blowing brightly, we thought it safer to sail along the western parts of the island, keeping the mountains as a shelter. But a very great swell arose, and the sea labored more, and with great difficulty we brought the ship to the port called Galenolimen, which you might call a calm port, so to speak. The local inhabitants, in the common tongue, by a corruption of the old term, call it Galilolimen. There we were exercised by great dangers, I suppose as a penalty for the blessing ^A that was not sought for and received from the patriarch at our departure. For this was what each one of them had wanted to do separately, as they later confessed to one another, regretting it; but fearing the accusation that would result from it, they had neglected it. For at midnight a heavy earthquake occurred, and the mountain, being fractured, fell into the sea and inundated the area there, causing us to believe that we, too, would be engulfed as we stayed along the shore. But with great difficulty, having endured much at sea, we arrived at Constantinople on the sixteenth day of the month of August, and having first approached the patriarch ^B and reported all that had happened, we begged him most fervently, with as much authority and favor as he possessed with the emperor, to be present with us as we reported what had been done, and if there was anything of necessity that we had to say that might sting the mind of the Emperor, he himself, being present, might soothe it with whatever art he could, and take pains that he might take everything in good part. He did for us abundantly what we requested; and with this success we soon dealt with the emperor, so that he, having been placated toward Arsenius and having accepted his defense, voluntarily signified that he believed that if Arsenius had known anything of the plot made against his life, he would have attempted ^C to turn the conspirators from their wicked undertaking; and that if he knew anything of these matters, he had kept silent, restrained by a certain religious scruple, because he did not think it fitting for his own person to provoke the prince against his subjects by revealing these machinations to him. Moreover, at the same time he heard from us of the poverty and misery with which he was struggling in exile, he was moved to such mercy that he immediately ordered three hundred gold pieces to be assigned to him annually for the sustenance of himself and his own, and he asserted in his own excuse, with an oath also interposed, that he would have decreed that [pension] to him before— ^D

had he but entertained hope that he could be induced to accept a pension from him; but since he understood that the old man, owing to a certain superstition, shrank from any communion with him whatsoever, he did not dare to thrust upon him that which would offend his overly scrupulous conscience. And not even now, he added, did he wish to cause distress to the man’s weak conscience; and therefore, fearing that he would refuse the necessary subsidy if it were offered in his own name, he consented that it be attributed to the Empress. In short, he wished to have some of his friends sent to him for the consolation and relief of the calamitous old man, and to have those three hundred coins delivered and handed over to him as a gift from the Empress, with a firm promise that an equal sum would be returned by the same hand every year. ^A This was done not long after. Indeed, those delegated to Arsenius were Gemistus, the *hypomnematographos* of the Church, along with the lampadarius of the royal clergy, Oenaiotes, and a third, Marcus, a monk of the monastery called Hiera—men all formerly very dear to him—who brought with them the aforementioned subsidy from the Empress. When I reflect upon this more deeply, I suspect that this concern for the old man, so little equitable to himself, did not spring from the Emperor merely out of pity—not for a man who was, in any case, by no means simple, nor one accustomed to look only to the obvious in the things he did; rather, I believe he saw more in it, and by this act endeavored to fortify and smooth for himself the path toward his long-standing goal of obtaining absolution; the more vehemently he desired this, the more shrewdly he deliberated by what best means and from whom he might more easily and honorably achieve it.

17. Of the manner in which the Emperor planned his absolution, and by whom.

The sum of his contemplations, furthermore, was directed to the fact that he considered it necessary for himself to be released from the bond of anathema through the patriarch and the synod. Regarding the patriarch, he feared he might accomplish little by petitioning him—though the patriarch himself would gladly have assented—but since his grace and authority among the people were slight, ^B it was to be feared that the envy of the author [of the absolution] might invalidate the act, and that most people would hold such an absolution as null and void, as if issued by a man in whose authority they had little trust, and concerning whom it was doubted whether he had been legitimately promoted, on account of the translation from throne to throne—a thing forbidden by the canons. The author and suggestor of these anxieties to the Augustus was the aforementioned Joseph, the prefect of Galesius, who was not so much moved in this by any pity for Arsenius as he was indulging in an unconcealed hatred toward Germanus, whom he openly blamed for having lept from a humbler see to the supreme one in an ambitious leap, and one not permitted by the sacred laws. ^C Hence, not only did he himself separate from his communion, but he also implanted in the Emperor’s mind those aforementioned adverse thoughts and fears regarding Germanus, denouncing it as to be feared that he did not possess the fit power to grant absolution; and, as was the consequence of this, if the Emperor were to have been absolved by such a one, he would not be considered truly free from the dire bond either before God or before men. The Augustus, hearing this from one whom he held in the place of a father, to whom, as the arbiter of his conscience and as one most expert in all things pertaining to the care of souls, he everywhere gave great faith and veneration, was seized by the greatest anxiety, ^D which increased more and more subjoined as the schism grew day by day among many who, due to envy of the translation of Germanus, turned away from his communion, while he himself remained too secure, sleeping through such a great injury to himself, and attempting nothing to purge or soften at all the burgeoning envy. For although they all reported to him the things that were being said and done against him, he censured no one, restrained no one, and not even the least—

^A harm did he cause to anyone. The emperor, however, having changed his mind, was greatly preoccupied with how he might by these means cause Germanus to depart from the throne, and if he would not depart on his own accord once he had learned of this, then he should persuade another to advise him to withdraw. Joseph was ready for this immediately, yet he did so ambiguously, and in such a way that one might think the emperor knew nothing of it; for the emperor maintained this suspicion to the very end.

18. How Joseph advised Germanus to lay down the patriarchate.

And so, with the emperor having yielded, ^B Joseph went in secret to Germanus in the guise of a well-meaning advisor and counseled him to lay down the patriarchate. For, he said, the disturbance was great, and it would not be possible for him to withstand it for long, even if he were supported by the emperor; for the emperor himself would also eventually grow weary once he learned of the schism. "Or do you not see how many are gathered around Hyacinthus and how many, in turn, are around Theodosia and her own brother, John, the son of Martha, and their half-sister who formed the Nostongonissa party? Do you not see the monks streaming forth from the monasteries in which they had grown old, having devoted their lives to ascetic labors? And if you trust in Eulogia, look at her sister Martha, look at her daughters, how they cling to Arsenius and despise you as if you were nothing. And the laity—I have no words to tell you how they are attached to Hyacinthus and to the nun Nostongonissa, whom you know to be the sister of the aforementioned Theodosia and John. What, then, will be left for you if the emperor, out of fear of the schism, ^C should abandon you? Make haste to depart with honor while you have the opportunity to act of your own accord, lest a time come upon you when you are forced to do things against your will, and you become a laughingstock, departing from the Church against your will [and in disgrace]."

These things, then, he wove together in the manner of a piece of advice to him who held the patriarchate; but the desire [of the emperor] thwarted the listener, and the speaker did not persuade him. For how could it enter into his mind that the emperor also agreed with these things, and that this advice of Joseph had been prompted from that quarter? He remained, therefore, and even heaped up [appointments], ordaining clerics and bishops, looking ^D toward the emperor’s favor. But that was a mere mockery and

a jest; and to rely upon him was for the emperor much like a man sailing on the foamy surface of the sea, who, hoping he might be supported by a fragile crust of floating refuse, of mossy turf, or of seaweed that falsely mimics solid sand, hopes ultimately to be saved from sinking if he should fall from his ship. The emperor, however, following his own designs, and wishing to avoid any suspicion of aversion toward Germanus, persisted remarkably in the simulation of fostering and protecting him, not only by his expression and speech in his meetings—showing every sign of true benevolence—but also by generously donating money, through which he might reconcile to himself wills that were opposed to him. In this regard, it happened that as the feast of Palms approached, on which a solemn procession through the city with the chanting of prayers is customary, when the patriarch had confidently indicated to the emperor through his own men that he was in need of linen lines equipped with hooks and bait, ^A by which he might draw men to himself—the emperor understanding him to be asking for money, with which he might purchase the support of the populace who were ill-disposed toward him as the procession drew near—he immediately sent a great quantity of copper and silver coins. Through these, he saw to the crafting of those things commonly called *epikompia* [procession-gift packets], and ordered them to be cast out to the people along the entire path through which the procession of suppliants moved, as far as the temple of the Forty Holy Martyrs. So crafty was the emperor in this artifice of deceitful simulation that he cast a veil over the eyes of the over-credulous prelate, lest he should in any way scent the secret will by which he desired him to be removed from the patriarchal throne.

19. Concerning Hyacinthus, who he was and whence he came, and those about him.

It would not be amiss to speak also of Hyacinthus, and of Theodosia herself, and of John, and of their half-sister, the woman from Nostongonissa. Now, Hyacinthus was a monk from the West, ^B who had traveled to Nicaea, and in a certain temple of the Prince of the Celestial Host, near the patriarchal palace that is in that city, he took up residence as a stranger unknown to most. He gathered boys together, and by training them, he provided for his own sustenance. But it was reported to the patriarch that he was a monk who allowed disorder, in that he was teaching boys. When he was summoned by him and questioned in person, he appeared an active and diligent man, and furthermore fearless, and prompt in word and deed for whatever task was required. Since he also claimed to have been initiated into the priesthood, the patriarch took him and held him in the number of his familiars. Later, when the events regarding the patriarch that we have spoken of occurred, and since he [Hyacinthus] appeared a man proved in his zeal for the patriarch's cause, he was bound to him all the more closely by the tie of friendship. ^C And when, once again, the patriarch was installed upon the throne in Constantinople, he was present with him as the most faithful of his familiars, together with Ignatius the Rhodian, a man also filled with piety and the gravity becoming a monk. These two, therefore, were both companions to the patriarch in his sufferings and his counsels, and they showed themselves all the more zealous for the causes for which the patriarch himself was struggling. But when that man [the patriarch] was cast out from the patriarchate, they too, as far as they were able, crept away and withdrew from sight; for it was not permitted to them to add themselves as companions to him as he went into exile, and counting that calamity and disaster as their own, they bore the ineluctable evil in grief and sorrow. Not long after these things, Ignatius exchanged his life for death; Hya-

Hyacinth ^A together with those around him, fearing the Emperor's wrath, thought he must seek protection against it with Martha, the sister of Ignatius, whom he had observed to be strongly attached to the Patriarch and to grieve greatly along with him, since he had been driven into exile. Therefore, by visiting her often, he so insinuated himself into her favor that he even obtained his sustenance from there, while the Emperor was utterly ignorant of these things. Now the nun Martha had a son, John. For though she had borne three sons, Michael and Andronicus were with the Emperor, whom he would shortly after honor with titles—for Michael received from the Augustus the rank of Grand Primicerius, later than Andronicus, while Andronicus was appointed Great Conostaulus; because of which ambition for honors, as the first envied the second, many things happened between these brothers which we shall relate as much as is necessary in their proper place. In this manner these two were involved in the Emperor’s retinue, taking no part in these affairs. But John, being younger than both, was being educated in the house and under the court service of his uncle, the Despot John. Observing his mother to be kindly disposed toward the Patriarch, he ^B also inclined to that side and became excessively zealous, "Do not touch, do not handle," even in the most trivial matters and by maintaining a fastidious avoidance. With him was also his sister Theodosia, who was attached to the same views, having already been widowed by the death of her husband, Balanidiotes. Joining them in the same conviction was the nun Nostongonissa, whom the discourse showed to be of a different mother, born to Tarchaneiotes from a former wife. All of these, therefore, were gathered with Hyacinth, and were zealously—oh divine laws and justice!—lamenting the Patriarch, who had been unjustly driven into exile. But enough of these matters.

20. How the Emperor also attempts to use Chalazas of Sardis against the Patriarch Germanus.

The Emperor, however, devised yet another trial for the patriarchate. For since Chalazas, the bishop of Sardis, had spent a sufficient amount of time in Constantinople and could not delay his return to his own church, and was already in the midst of preparations for his departure, the Emperor secretly entrusted him with instructions to meet the Patriarch in person and say the same things to him that Joseph had unsuccessfully attempted, or rather to write and send a letter from Chalcedon when he was setting out towards the East. The scheme was as profound as it appeared plausible; for to speak to him as one of the bishops of the high throne ^C gave the same weight that others had, and because he was one whose consecration the Patriarch and Arsenius had refused to accept, it seemed that to counsel the Patriarch in such a way—when he ought to have been grateful to have been received by him—would show that he was digging something else much deeper by saying such things; ^D and for that very reason it was insinuated

^A that the matter of his translation would seem to others a strong accusation against the man being translated, so that he would even be compelled to withdraw; but for him, having received the high priesthood from such a one as Nicephorus of Ephesus, great difficulties would arise, as it would not be so much a condemnation of the other as of himself, if he were to say such things. The Patriarch at that time, having received the letters from him, since he ^B crossed the Thracian Bosphorus and, as he was stepping onto the ship, was at the same time writing such things as to set in motion the necessity of his resignation, was led into dark suspicions, thinking that the man would not have dared to write such things and insult the Primate unless he had a source of confidence from elsewhere. For a time, however, testing the matter by experience, he decided to send the letter just as it was to the Emperor, thinking it would be the most truthful evidence of what might come from the other side. He thought: if the Emperor is distressed by what was written, he will consider the matter grave, to such an extent that he would even compel the man to return and explain himself. He therefore ^C announced: "You have the man in your hands, for the canons so provide, and there are many judges around you for such cases; do with these things as you wish, and make inquiries as you please; for to the Emperor it is not—" ^D [P. 201]

ON MICHAEL PALAEOLOGUS BOOK IV.

Germanus was encouraged to believe that the counsel of such an author was sincere and proceeded from true zeal, as it seemed personally advantageous for Germanus to remain in the patriarchate, through which he was indeed recognized as a true bishop. However, since the man himself was counseling a withdrawal from there against his own interests, the conjecture was obvious that he was being moved by certain more hidden reasons, different from those which were commonly alleged. For the fact that it was customary to except against Germanus regarding his translation of see had no manifest weight at Sardis, because it was established that he had received from that patriarch his own ordination, which he upheld as legitimate—the very man whom everyone knew had been translated from the Ephesian see to the Constantinopolitan. For how could he consider the promotion of Germanus from the Adrianopolitan throne, on account of that translation, to be invalid, as he himself had not only recognized the passage of Nicephorus from the Ephesian to the patriarchal see of the city as canonical, but, having received his own inauguration into the Sardian see from such a man, of which see he professed himself the true and just possessor, could not reject—not without condemning himself? Wherefore it was fitting to think that a great something else had been seen by the Sardian, prompting him to flee to the protection of imperial grace, by which he was driven to such an unexpected suggestion. ^D Therefore, Germanus, having received the letter of the Sardian who was boarding the ship for his departure across the Bosphorus, which counseled the abdication of the patriarchate, fell into a state of bewildered suspicion, rightly reasoning that it would never have come to pass that the man would dare to write those things and put himself forward as the first to offer advice so insulting to a patriarch whom the Emperor openly approved, unless he had perceived that this would not be displeasing to him. Desiring, therefore, to make a test of a doubtful matter, he immediately sent that letter to the Emperor, thinking he would thereby elicit the most truthful evidence possible from the outcome of what could then be known, by which he might clearly understand what secret thought regarding these matters lay in the Emperor’s mind. For if, upon seeing the letters, he were to signify distress and show that the act displeased him, and were to send someone after the author of the letter to bring him back from his journey and detain him in Constantinople, to be brought to account in a legitimate trial for his irreverent audacity in having dared to present such a document in his own name to the prince of sacred things, then indeed it would be manifest that these things had happened without the Emperor’s knowledge, and that his own position was secure in that regard. But if, upon learning all the facts, he seemed to make nothing of that crime of rashly written letters, but instead sought pretexts to excuse him or suspended judgment as if he meant to inquire into the facts in due time, or if he even wrote back in a kindly manner, using a not-unknown artifice, as if it were his duty to soothe and mitigate the situation, then certainly there would be no need for him to wait for a more certain verdict to understand clearly that these things had been written because the Emperor had already been won over by his own counsel and will. With this mind and design, Germanus—having received the letter from the Sardian and added another of his own, in which he signified that he was vehemently offended by the matter—sent it to the Emperor through a trusted man, in his deepest grief, to make his sorrow known. The Emperor, however, upon receiving and reading the letters, was so far from grieving for the sake of his friend that he rather complained, taking it ill that he was being treated unfairly, and that while he was oppressed with the most grievous cares of the republic, the burden of his own anxieties regarding the patriarch should be added with no mercy. And having spoken these things indignantly, he immediately turned to the messenger and rendered to him a response to report back to the patriarch to this effect: that he should have the man himself in his hand, subject to his power according to the prescription of the sacred canons. There were present many prelates, legitimate judges of such things. Let him go, let him institute an inquiry, let him do what he wished: for the Emperor would not involve himself in such business,

but one occupied with many public administrative duties, both tumultuous and necessary. Upon these things being reported to him, the patriarch finally recognized what the sovereign truly desired, however much he might be dissimulating. Being certain that it was vain and foolish to contend against the manifest will of the Emperor, he prepared to withdraw from the patriarchate.

^A 21. *How Germanus left the patriarchate.*

The month of September had begun, and the festival of the venerable Cross was being celebrated, which we call the Exaltation. ^B Having clothed himself in his sacred vestments for the last time, and having performed the exaltation of the Cross and celebrated the divine liturgy of that day, he withdrew in the evening at dusk, and, retreating to his own cells which he had built for himself by the sea at the Mangana, he decided to live there in quiet for the rest of his life. But at dawn the next day, the Emperor, having heard the news, arrived immediately with the senate, the bishops, and the whole body of the clergy; he feigned grief, imploring him to return and threatening that he would force him if he did not yield to his prayers. In short, he left nothing undone that might serve as a sign of his sincere will and genuine concern, to such an extent that he was believed to desire with all his heart that Germanus should be restored to the throne.

To these things Germanus replied by playing the Cretan, as they say, with the Cretan, and persisted with great gravity in the simulation of ignoring the innermost mind of the sovereign; he returned many thanks for such great kindness, which he said he would now and hereafter always remember and, where he could, repay. He stated, however, that broken by old age and infirmity, and therefore unequal to the burden of such a great administration, he was most ready and prepared to offer the resignation of the Constantinopolitan see, duly written out, and he begged the Emperor and the bishops present to accept it. While saying these things, he handed over the written formula of resignation, declaring gravely that they should not hope that he would yield at all, whatever might happen, or that he would abandon his decision, or that he would ever again assume the rule of the patriarchal church, even if the Augustus himself tried to force him to do so.

^C Then the Emperor, having now in his hands what he had desired in his silent prayers, nevertheless persisted in acting the part he had once assumed, contending—though without command and violence—that he should not persist in his intention of refusal. He expressed in every gesture and manner the person of one taking the matter hard, and when after a long time he achieved nothing, as if vanquished, he descended to the sincere purpose of truly and always honoring him exceedingly and profusely.

He began to execute this by first asking very benevolently for Germanus’s opinion regarding the election of his successor, plainly presenting himself (and, evidently, striving by that very act to soothe any offense that might remain in him, if perhaps he had perceived the hidden will of the Augustus, out of respect for which he had been forced to abdicate)—plainly, I say, declaring that he wished full discretion to be reserved to him regarding the choice of the new patriarch. He added, moreover, that he had decided to keep him from then on in the place of a father, and he celebrated this honor toward him in ambitious letters with such a title, which was made more splendid by being attributed, as it was said, by Germanus himself first of all to the Emperor, the glorious surname of the new Constantine: for what ^D could seem greater than to be received into the affection and authority of a father by a new Constantine? Nor shall I omit, on any occasion, to explain this nomenclature somewhat more distinctly. Its inventor, indeed, and first architect was Germanus, led toward the devising of it by his own innate disposition of most obsequiously gratifying those who reigned. The Emperor accepted it, however, not as a compliment rashly offered, but as a thing in which he was glad to see how the omen of a certain old domestic prophecy had not been in vain for him, by which, as he used to say, he remembered he was accustomed to be called Constantine by his parents when he was a little boy. There are some, however, who do not

^A accept this, but say Manuel; and I myself hold this to be more true, because the calculation based on the letters of his name corresponds to the duration of his life—of his calling, that is, and his surname. This calculation indeed deceived some who were assigning the times to seventeen years; for the name "Michael Palaiologos" bears a certain number of letters, but when "Manuel" is added, it indicates exactly the twenty-fourth year of his reign. At that time, therefore, when providence was watching over him and promising not a few things—saying, "God will see to the one who is sufficient to herd, and He will also take upon Himself the heavy tasks of sacred cares"—it was also deemed a great and honorable thing by the Emperor that he should be established as a father. But to whom is it allowed to be called father to one whom God Himself has taken up for adoption as a son, unless He whom He alone judges worthy of the stewardship? Yet, as for the provision of necessities, he has the One who feeds the nestlings of the ravens. "Moreover, my own church" (he was designating Adrianople) "being wealthy in my high priest, has enough to feed us both, and at the same time is providing for God." These things, then, were what Germanus said at that time, respectfully declining all that was proposed. ^B Yet the one whom he mentioned as having been proclaimed at Adrianople after him by his own hand was his nephew Barlaam, or rather Basil, who was indeed very negligent regarding spiritual discipline.

22. Concerning Basil, or rather Barlaam, of Adrianople

Being otherwise a lover of finery, he used horses, and sometimes arms, and he even loved to show off his generosity by engaging the enemy at close quarters. For this reason, while his uncle was still alive, he was forgiven for doing these things, even though they were condemned. Later, however, when other charges were also brought against him, and the old man had passed away, he was summoned to trial and for many days pretended to have a seizure, feigning that he knew nothing of the matters concerning him; in the end, he underwent deposition by the synod. And immediately, after a few days, he who had supposedly been out of his mind,

^A having prepared regarding the patriarch, was deliberating with the priests, as if he were entirely ignorant, and not even having it ready in his heart, he was casting the seeds of it beforehand. Those then to whom these matters were not a concern, and who pondered these things superficially, had different thoughts suggested to their minds, some in favor of one man, others in favor of another. But as many as penetrated even to the mind of the sovereign and were well-versed in his intentions, to them one man alone appeared suitable for the administration, the one who was also agreeable to the emperor. Thus, having consulted together, they elected Joseph of Galesios, a man who was spiritual and good, simple and gentle in his ways, bearing also something from the imperial palaces, since, while living with his wife, he had been listed among the clergy of the late Empress Irene, and had served as a reader; and he showed sufficient marks of his freedom of spirit. ^B He also loved to share with others what fell into his hands, to such an extent that he would confidently declare that others, indeed, were those among us who were tight-fisted. And it was unique that in his monastic life, while delighting in psalmody, in vigils, in fasts, in abstinence from drink, when it was necessary, in gentleness and justice, and in a character that was kind and simple and, in general, blameless in his conduct, he did not even neglect human virtues, such as meeting someone or embracing them and talking of friendly things and smiling and relaxing into laughter, if something was said by someone in jest, or even ^C if it were drawn to him by his intent toward martial matters; therefore he would offer himself for some military command, by which, once endowed with it, as he had long desired, it might be permitted to him to engage the enemy with his hand, and having routed and slain them, to set up frequent trophies. This news, when the emperor heard it, provoked in him a most grievous suspicion, which proved fatal in the end. For the Augustus, considering that he who spoke these things would easily carry out what he threatened, especially since he lacked neither the flower of his age nor the strength of his limbs, nor, which was the main point, any experience in such daring deeds, shifted to that fixed opinion from his suspicion, that one must fear, by all means, lest if a free opportunity were given to him to do what he wished, either by defecting to the enemy or by adding himself to some faction hostile to the state, he might bring his restless spirit and gladiatorial strength to the ruin of the fatherland, and might dangerously plot and attempt many things against public order. He thought, therefore, that this man of rash disposition must be constrained, and that, by consigning him to prison, he must be forestalled, as he said, lest he should accomplish through some damage what he had said he was meditating for the destruction of the enemies. But truly, wishing afterwards to be rid ^D of this double concern of keeping the accused in a difficult custody, he ordered a certain Tzykandyles, an energetic minister suitable for such tasks, to take him away to Nicaea—him and with him the Bulgarian, and Tzuilas, who was himself suspected of defection—and before leading them into the fortress, to deprive both of their eyes; which, indeed, was done after this.

23. How Joseph was elected as patriarch by the archpriests. The emperor, however, having removed Germanos from the seat, was searching along with the bishops for one who was suitable to be placed upon the patriarchal throne, while excellently dissimulating what he had in his heart and in no way revealing by any sign that one man was ready and already marked out in his mind, whom he immensely desired to be preferred above all others. As many of the prelates as were ignorant of the emperor’s hidden intent, since they were judging matters from the surface, and believed that they truly had the freedom to advance whom they preferred, were each designating their own candidates, according to their own minds and silent reflections. But to those who were more discerning, whom the inner feelings of the emperor did not escape, one man alone truly seemed fit for that prefecture, whom the prerogative of the emperor's favor and his silent hopes for this end recommended. Therefore, having held counsel among themselves, with concordant votes they elected Joseph of Galesios, a man who was spiritual and good, simple by nature and easy in his ways, drawing something besides from the elegance of the palace. For having a wife, he had lived in the household of an imperial woman, having been inscribed long ago into the domestic clergy of the Empress Irene of pious memory, serving there in the order of readers; whence many traces of a generous confidence, as is accustomed to be in the nurseries of courts, remained in his speech and in his manner of conversing. Furthermore, he loved to share by giving to others whatever fell into his hands, so that he would openly show it, just as others, whom we know, store such things away and serve their own avarice. To these habits of his was added something unexpected, which was that he, a man who openly evinced in his soul a monastic sanctity in psalmody, in vigils, in frequent fasts, in abstinence from drink,

^A when need arose, in mildness, in justice, in a benign spirit and simplicity—in a word, in an irreproachable life—did not, however, neglect the humanity of urban custom; showing a cheerful face to those he met, embracing those he encountered, detaining them with pleasant conversation, not merely smiling, but even breaking into laughter if something were perchance said by someone wittily or done elegantly to give pleasure. He was likewise not ignorant of the art of insinuating himself with princes, of requesting things of them for others, and he did not shun delicate tables with wines of various kinds and sweetmeats; he even hosted many of common stock, especially those whose means of subsistence were narrow, who neither had [food] of their own nor knew how to provide it from elsewhere, and who therefore were in need of the hospitable kindness of friends. The emperor raised this man, approved by the just number of suffrages, to the patriarchate on the twenty-eighth day of the month of December, in the tenth indiction, in the year 6775. Soon after, on the calends of January, he duly received his episcopal ordination; concerning which ceremony something of this sort occurred.

24. How, Pinachas of Heraclea having been disregarded, though he held the ordination of Germanus, Gregory of Mitylene ordained Joseph.

The monk Pinachas, who had received his ordination from Germanus, was the chief shepherd of Heraclea in Thrace, to whom there belonged by ancient right, sanctioned from the time of Byzantium, as it had been subject to the see of Heraclea since earliest times, the privilege of ordaining the patriarch. Joseph, however, was unwilling to receive the laying on of hands from him. The emperor, therefore, devised a timely method of resolving this knot. He summoned the aforementioned Pinachas to the imperial palace and placed him in charge of the palace services, ^B so that he might celebrate the sacrifice of the Mass there in the solemn rite; and while he was gladly accepting this honor—which was joined with great gain because of the very rich stipends decreed for those performing this duty—Gregory of Mitylene, against whose ordination, as being ancient, there was no exception, was chosen to ordain the patriarch. For the whole of that month, the emperor, since nothing was of more importance to him than the lifting of the anathema to which he was subject, granted the patriarch time to consider with the other bishops how this might be brought about in a proper and becoming manner, while he himself, anticipating [the requests], ^C continued to provide most easily for all that the patriarch desired of him, as he heard him speak with such pleasure that he even ordered that decrees sent everywhere throughout the Roman empire should be received by those in authority as if they were his own personal commands, alongside the letters of the patriarch, with threats of punishment also added for those who did not fulfill what was ordered according to the patriarch’s writings. He even opened the public prisons and released many of those detained from their chains; he granted sympathy to the condemned, recalled the exiled, and pardoned the offenses of those to whom he had been hostile, through the intercession of the patriarch.

25. How the emperor was freed from the anathema by Joseph.

The second day of the month of Lenaion arrived ^D and, at last, the emperor was present for the decreed absolution.

^A Since it was also the day on which the Church celebrates the feast of the Hypapante, the patriarch, together with all the bishops by the light of many lamps and with hymns appropriate to the feast, and still further with prayers to God on behalf of the emperor, as was right, having kept a brilliant vigil, performed the holy liturgy. And when it was all finished, the emperor, who had stood apart, with the royal bodyguard accompanying him, together with the entire senate and the citizenry, approached the holy doors, while the bishops stood within the sanctuary. Having therefore laid aside the head-covering from his head, with his head bare, he fell before God and prostrated himself previously at the feet of the patriarch, and with a most fervent disposition requested forgiveness, loudly confessing his transgression. And indeed, with the emperor lying on the ground, the patriarch, holding in his hands the paper on which the absolution was written, as he went through it and expressly stated the transgression regarding the emperor’s son, namely John, granted him forgiveness with a clear voice; and after him another, and after that one yet another, and so on, all the others, at whom each one prostrated himself and asked for forgiveness, they, holding the paper in their hands one by one, granted forgiveness in the same way as the patriarch, with many tears being shed, especially by those from the senate, in order to propitiate God. And finally, having risen and partaken of the holy feast, and having suitably worshipped as was appropriate, he took his leave of the gathering and withdrew to the palace. ^B He also ordered, for the maintenance of food and clothing, that sufficient provision be made for John, who was locked up in the fortress of the Nicetiatae at Dacibyza, often showing him great concern and almost daily treating him kindly with necessities. From then on, he turned more diligently to the administration of public affairs.

26. Concerning the marriage alliance of Andronicus Tarchaniotes, son of the emperor’s sister Martha, and the daughter of John who was ruling in the West.

^C For when, upon the death of the Despot Michael, the western regions again began to swell and threaten turmoil, he had indeed transmitted his lordship to his legitimate successor, Nicephorus, but for his son by a concubine, John, he had set aside a not insignificant region of his own for him to enjoy for his own use. And while Nicephorus was content to dwell quietly with what was his own, John, a man of restless spirit, eager to leap beyond the boundaries [set for him] and sparing his brother’s [possessions], began to seize things that were ours, plundering whatever he happened upon. The emperor, however, did not think it best to go to war against him, being as he was a man of fierce temperament and young, having just laid hold of power; rather, he deemed it far better to approach him through peace and to arrange a truce by means of a marriage alliance. Whence, he softened his harsh and arrogant nature with embassies, and since he also had a ^D daughter of marriageable age, he invited the man to confirm peace with a marriage treaty, that she should be joined to one of the emperor’s kinsmen. This John was a man strenuous in character, prompt of hand, rash in spirit, and into whatever he threw himself, he was vehement; and to these qualities he added such experience in military matters, that

he often struck fear into the Despot, lest perhaps, by applying himself to these same things, he might circumvent him and be able to cast him into the disrepute of victory. For these reasons, the Emperor, having made haste very wisely and securely, forestalled his [John’s] goodwill, and gave [the hand of] the daughter of this John to his own nephew, the son of Martha, Andronikos, having sent a not-inconsiderable retinue to fetch her, and bestowing it as a marriage; and he honored the son-in-law with the dignity of Grand Conostaulos, and the father-in-law, John, with that of Sebastokrator. ^C And so, while peace was established with John because of this, and things were as settled as they could be for that part of the Roman armies, neither did he neglect to care for the rest; but he was energetic in these matters, navigating the seas with his fleet, and on the other hand, watching over the Triballoi and Illyrians on land. The fleet was led by the brave man Philanthropenos, holding the position of Protostrator, as the Grand Duke Laskaris was now old and no longer able to concern himself with wars and battles, being weighed down by age, and [Philanthropenos] was fulfilling his function. And Philanthropenos held the supreme power, being overall prefect of the naval forces, while beneath him he had many men, greatest in the titles of the inferior commands, ^D tribunes, commanders of divisions, counts, and naval commanders. For the fleet was great, consisting of a huge number of ships full of a fighting force of youths eager for spoils. A part of this [force] was from the city of the Gasmouloi (whom a Roman would call of mixed descent), born of Roman mothers and Italian fathers; others mostly from the Laconians (whom the common people corruptly call Tzakones), whom the sovereign had moved to Constantinople from the Morea and the western parts—a group simultaneously numerous, warlike, and including wives and children, for the replenishing of the city. There were also present among them, in the rank of attendants, those who had gathered from everywhere, as one might say, rowers of the ships’ fore-ranks, whom the sovereign had appointed in great numbers and of good quality along all the coastal regions; for it was not possible, as he himself used to say, to hold the city securely for the Romans unless they were masters of the entire sea.

27. How and with what forces the eastern territories were lost, while the Despot was commanding and often present in the western regions.

For the Despot John, when conducting affairs on land, had under him many and great commanders, and the military was composed of the *allagia*—as those would say who discuss military ranks—consisting of the greatest numbers. For the Paphlagonian [unit] was numerous and very large, and another, by its multitude as well as its strength...

was from the Alizones, whom common parlance calls Mesothinitae. There were Thracians from one side, Phrygians from the other; Macedonians from this side, Mysians from that, and Carians—others and many more. Those from Magedon, and indeed the Scythian [forces], were ^A added to them, as well as the foreign Italian [mercenaries], and a great many others. To put it simply, the whole body was marshaled into an irresistible power; and the despot, when he moved it and deployed it wherever he might appear, was fearsome, especially to those in the West. ^B For this reason, the eastern regions also weakened, as the Persians took heart and invaded the lands, there being no one to hold them back in that desolation. Hence, the Maeander valley was likewise deserted, not only by the men from those most numerous and largest regions, but also by the monks themselves. For that area around the Maeander was another Palestine; it was excellent not only for grazing and for raising herds and flocks, nor merely for bearing a crop of men, but was ^C also excellent for establishing a multitude of those heavenly citizens on earth, the monks—exceeding Palestine in all other respects to the same degree that it yielded in one, yet greatest, respect: that the earthly sojourn of my Lord and God, Christ, took place there. And so, little by little, the Maeander was depopulated, as those who had previously lived there moved further inland because of the incursion of the barbarian nations; and that whole ridge, previously occupied by ^D newly founded fortresses—Abula, and the lands bordering the Caÿster, and Magedon, and all of the renowned Caria—was trampled by the impious raids of the enemy. I need not mention Tracheia, and Stadia, and Strobilum, and the lands opposite Rhodes, which, though they were subject to the Romans only yesterday and the day before, became in a short time strongholds for the enemies. As for the nations toward the other sea—not to speak of those in the center—as many as were in Maryandynia and among the Mosyni and among the great-souled Eneti, who were subject to the Romans, along with those further inland as far as the Sangarius, they were so thoroughly wasted and destroyed that they would require a Maryandynian mourner to lament those parts worthily. For since the forces, many and marvelous as they were, were being worn down in the West and consumed little by little, the danger surrounding those in the East became so great that it was no longer possible for those departing from the city even to travel on foot as far as Heracleia on the Pontus; the borders there were hemmed in by the Sangarius, and everything beyond was rendered as booty not to the Mysians, but to the Persians. Only those fortresses toward the sea were left, around Cromna and Amastris and Tium and Heracleia, preserving nothing but the names of the places; and indeed, had they not used the sea to obtain aid through commerce,

these lands, being held by the Persians, would long ago have perished, for their inhabitants had no peace, but were being encroached upon. ^A One thing that contributed most to this ruin, as well as to that of other things, as the emperor himself later said when, shortly before his death, he trod upon that ground and beheld it—and that too with a not inconsiderable army, and mourned most of it—was the avarice and stinginess of the commanders sent there, and their zeal for taking, limited by no measure or satiety, and their deceitfulness toward the ruler, to whom they reported that no military action was taking place, that very little had been lost, that the damage was minimal, that the whole situation rested on petty details, and that what had been taken away could be recovered with little effort; and all the other things with which, like constant but deceptive potions, they bathed the imperial ears—sweet to appearances, but saline in truth—both in writing and in messages. The cause of the campaign, as the emperor himself admitted, was the schism that had erupted in the Church, and the great multitude of unruly, ragged, and sack-clothed ones, and the great heap of accusations they leveled against him, and the emperor’s fear in the face of these things, suspecting an apostasy. Nor was it easy for those people to weave together so many [accusations] against the emperor, as if he had wronged the heir, ^B as if he had driven the patriarch from the throne. "But the oaths," [he said], "but the agreements, but this and that," by which they were wont to gain for themselves, receiving very much from the listeners, "but as for me," he says, "fears and cowardice possessed me, lest some innovation contrary to my will might take place." From which arose suspicions necessitating that he remain on his guard and quiet, holding his own position in high regard, and entrusting matters to whoever might happen to be there. This the sovereign later said to Athanasius of Alexandria, as he himself reported to us, when he was in the company of the emperor during the campaign, offering him comfort as he looked upon the desolation of the lands beyond the Sangarius and heard of such things, the ruler lamenting the desertions. But we shall speak of these things more fully in their place.

28. On the Church schism, and on the Pantepopten monastics.

^C Then, in truth, the schism [was such that] common people, everywhere invidiously incriminating the ward—who had been bypassed and oppressed by that tutor—of having nefariously stripped the child of his ancestor’s patriarchal/imperial inheritance, and the lawful successor and son of Augustus of the empire, as well as the ejection into exile of the patriarch driven from his throne; all this, heaped with perjury and perfidy by one who had respected no oath by which he might have bound himself, nor agreements that he might have ratified—these things (and they exaggerated many of them one by one) they were proclaiming; and by these things, popular and plausible to the masses, they were ^D draining the credulous commoners of their money and harvesting huge spoils. And that they would not desist from an enterprise so useful to them privately was probable. Therefore, I say, the Augustus, understanding these things and fearing that by such strong winds of sedition the fire of open rebellion and civil war—most difficult to quench later—might be inflamed, declared—in a familiar conversation with Athanasius, the patriarch of Alexandria, who was his companion at that time on the journey, and to whom, as a man of confidence, he was opening up his own mental anguish and his not vain fears and suspicions, which he, hearing, did not fail to soothe with whatever consolation he could—that he had undertaken this journey as a necessary precaution against such a great evil, and to investigate by personal inspection the fidelity of those to whom he had entrusted fortresses and provinces without having sufficiently examined them. We learned these same things from Athanasius himself, who later related what he had heard. He added that on this occasion he saw with his own eyes the truly wretched and most deservedly deplored state of the regions beyond the Sangarius, desolated by extreme ruin. But we shall also treat these matters more fully in their own place.

28. On the Church schism, and on the Pantepopten monks.

This, moreover, at the time in which we are engaged in the telling,

the Church grew, so that even within households those ^A within were divided, and in one way a father would live, in another a son, and a mother and daughter, and daughter-in-law and mother-in-law. There were also more of the monks around Hyacinthus, restless men wandering from place to place, zealous on behalf of the patriarch who had been exiled. Others, too, renowned for virtue, both from Galesios and from other monasteries, such as those who at that time were sitting in the Monastery of the Pantepoptes, having broken away from the flock, were living each by himself, in no way accepting Joseph into communion; this, on the one hand, as he himself had allegedly mounted the throne to trip up Germanos, and on the other hand, because he had first been zealous for the patriarch and had turned away from communion with Germanos and encouraged others to do the same. But ^B he also had an individual crime greater than the preceding one: for the former had taken offense at the translation, but Joseph at not receiving the emperor into spiritual sonship. The monks at the Monastery of the Pantepoptes were even more daring and attacked him more boldly, considering him to be both an intruder and an excommunicated person while he held the patriarchate. For from this they also drew a great conclusion: that he was binding what could not be bound, and rather to condemnation and intensification, not only by being barred from communion, but by the one who was binding being involved in the same things himself. They also brought great persuasiveness from their words, both due to the venerable nature of their own persons, and because they were joined in zeal with those for the patriarch Joseph, whom they heard was sitting on the patriarchal throne like a vessel that had fallen. Regarding these men, prioritizing either persuading them or removing them (for reproofs are like pricks against a conscientious soul), he dealt with the emperor in a plausible manner, and since to persuade them was not possible (for how could it be?), he [treated] the men

with merciless resistance, preferring to punish them. The matter was therefore entrusted by him to George Acropolites, a man of great rank among the logothetes and highly learned, yet one who cared little for the promptings of conscience. And indeed, having brought them into his house, he tortured them severely, flogging, hanging, and scourging them, and treating those who were superior to others among them with dishonor, parading them disgracefully through the marketplace on charges most base and fabricated—men who possessed great dignity in their way of life and in their status—whom, even after having treated them with such bitter cruelty as he could, he sent into exile, men who had once and for all turned away from the land and earthly things. And then for the first time, Joseph broke the consciences of many, and by the comparison with these, the former [patriarch Arsenius] was carried off as the better one, as having troubled no one in any way, even as they said. ^B Indeed, the ruler also made use of him again, both calling him father, having him for counsel, and making use of him in many ways as a fellow-worker, and he gladly listened to him acting as a mediator. For this man was both accustomed to the world, and clever at approaching rulers, and at persuading them when the time was right, and at softening their temper or making it fierce. He held, moreover, along with his own judgment and ^C the strength of his body, [the habit] of often making an approach to the emperor once a month or even in the course of the week, this both on his own initiative and when called.

29. How the former patriarch Germanus was sent into Pannonia with the great duke Lascaris, and brought back from there a bride for the emperor's son, and how they were crowned.

Since the emperor’s son, Andronicus, had already grown to be a man, whom he was preparing as his firstborn to be his successor in the imperial power, and it was necessary to join him to a suitable spouse, the Augustus looked around to see where he might find one suitable for this purpose. And as for sending an embassy to the Italians, it did not go well, with Charles lying in between in Apulia, whom he knew to be an undeclared enemy of himself and of the Romans because of the City and the kinship that existed between him and Baldwin regarding their children; for having already destroyed Manfred, he was magnified, he who was previously count, as being the own brother of the king of France; for this was to him the agreed-upon reward from the Church for the assault upon Manfred by the one who was defecting, if he were to win in the end. ^D Considering these things, the emperor turned his mind and hopes toward Pannonia, and decided to send envoys there. The king who ruled there—

^A was by birth a Roman, born to the king of the Pannonians from the daughter of the old Lascaris. For the emperor then reigning had three daughters; this one was the first, the admirable Eirene was the second, whom John took and reigned after succeeding his father-in-law, and the third was Eudocia, who was given in marriage to the great lord in the city. From that first daughter, the king of Pannonia—having been born to the king and father—took for himself as wife a woman from the Comans, a captive, as they say, but one chosen for her beauty. This woman, the emperor wished to betroth to his son, as she was of noble birth and descended from the Lascarites. And indeed, for this embassy concerning these matters, he chose this Germanos, who had been patriarch, and the grand doux Laskaris—who was already advanced in years, because of his kinship to him; for he filled the place of the grandfather to the king, even as a brother of the emperor Laskaris. They, having gone ^B and performing the duties of the embassy on foot, brought back the king’s daughter as a bride for the son of the emperor and emperor himself, upon whom the ruler bestowed the name Anna; he then celebrated the wedding, brilliant and grand, for her and his son at the holy and great temple of the Wisdom of the Word of God, with Patriarch Joseph offering the blessing. And again, in the following year, on the eighth of the month of Mounychion, the emperor and father ceremonially bound them with a royal fillet, along with the one acting as patriarch, and further assigned to him his duties as emperor in a more magnificent manner. He also assigned to him three of the offices as being specifically necessary: he re-established Libadarios as pincerna, honored Bryennios with the management of the royal table, and lastly, set the one from Christoupolis, Tzamplakon, as tatās of his court. A royal staff, gold-plated over wood, was also prepared for him, to be held by him during the divine hymns, as was the custom, along with his father. And this was done, as we ourselves saw, once or twice or even more often while he was emperor. Afterward, it seemed good to the emperor (for since the rule is one, and the staff is the symbol of rule, it followed that this should also be one) that this should be abolished. Permission was given, however, to command and sign in the royal manner, though not to date by month, as was the custom for emperors, but to write in red ink in his own hand: “Andronikos, by the grace of Christ, Emperor of the Romans.” Then, oaths were exacted from the new emperor to his father, along with a written assurance of his faith toward God and the Church, ^C that he would not conspire, but would be subject, and truly ^D secure...

^A for whereas the people took oaths of fidelity to him, so also did those of the Church. The archbishops also subscribed, formulating a sentence of excommunication against anyone who might rise up against the emperor. For he still harbored suspicion toward his brothers, and especially toward the Despot John, seeing how great a fervor existed for him in battles, and how all were drawn to him by his generosity and his readiness to grant requests to those who asked. For nothing so enslaves the souls of men as beneficence exercised with grace. And if you should take away this beneficent power from rulers, you will find them to be but clanging cymbals, which possess a sound only because they are hollow. Thus too, a word from a ruler that is not made effective is vain; for it is better that he who can do good should have the word as a deed, than that the ruler should merely promise and prove a liar. And an unlying testament to this are the healing herbs, so useful to the life of man, which silently provide their benefits. ^B If any, acting with petty meanness, are grieved by the lack of wealth, let them show its presence and tell us what it contributes to pleasure. And if they seek pleasure, it is far better to possess that which is present and to hope for that which is to come, being anxious for the future. Let them know that for Ptolemy and Alexander and that other one who defined kingship by beneficence (I cannot recall the name, but I think it was Titus), these riches were the means by which, having purchased immortal glory for themselves, they left it to us, having spent nothing. And this is that unfailing wealth: beneficence, which that man possessed toward all, and was praised even above emperors. For this reason, being viewed with suspicion, he was forced to renounce many of his possessions. For at the beginning, he was allowed not only to have Vardariotai and cortinarioi, and those in charge of his bedchamber, and also those in charge of entry—whom they call hetairiarchs—but even more of the imperial household to accompany him. But as time went on, he was weakened, being deprived of these things, sometimes voluntarily, sometimes against his will; for much of his administration was also taken away. For all the islands that had been his before—I speak of Mitylene and Rhodes—and many and very great territories on the mainland which had been for his sufficient provision, were removed. And then, while demonstrating his servitude to the newly crowned emperor, if there was anything for the sake of honor, such as a cloak...

^A that he received from the emperor, although he was a grown man, it was so small that it barely covered his knees. And that hero took more pleasure ^A in the childish garments found at court than in his own, which were fitted to his body. In this way, by his outward deeds and habits, he revealed his inner disposition and his hidden thoughts—to the point that he even laid aside his pearl-encrusted cap and his bright white regalia, in a manner which shall be described shortly, anticipating his own humble state for the sake of the security it provided, being thus ^B above all suspicion.

30. The defection of the Grand Konostaulos Tarchaneiotes to his father-in-law, John.

But before relating this, let us speak of the grand konostaulos, Andronikos Tarchaneiotes, the nephew of the ruler. We have already mentioned that he had become the son-in-law of the Sebastokrator John Doukas. To him had been entrusted the administration of the region of Orestias and the inner parts of the Haemus; and his residence, along with his wife, was in Adrianople. Having spent a long time there, for some reason—or, as most say, deeply resentful at the promotion of the emperor's younger brother, Michael, to the position of Grand Domestic, and feeling incredibly slighted both towards him and towards the one who had promoted him to that rank—his mind turned to a plan which was utterly disgraceful and unworthy of his lineage.

Planning to defect to his father-in-law, because he saw that in the current state of affairs he could not accomplish this defection safely or with impunity, he decided to imitate the cuttlefish. ^C For that creature (I pass over the natural explanation, not as if it receives the black substance as an excretion, but as an involuntary discharge flowing forth suddenly when the creature’s retentive power is constricted by fear, and since this happens to it, the animal uses it for assistance and to flee from dangers), since it wishes to flee from its hunters, it vomits forth that black ink and muddies the sea, and thus it makes its escape easily. So, desiring to throw things into confusion, he imagined that he could aid his own escape through that very chaos, and he prepared for the Tocharians to descend; they, appearing, overran that entire land as though gathered for spoil. But what those people did at that time requires ^D a separate account for the telling thereof, although it must be said beforehand that the Andronikos Tarchaneiotes who was the grand konostaulos and nephew of the ruler had, as we said, become the son-in-law of the Sebastokrator John. However, because he despaired that he could carry this out safely and without hindrance while the state of affairs was tranquil, as it was then, and in order that his scheme might succeed according to his wishes, he thought he should imitate the cuttlefish clinging to the rock. I will not omit stating briefly the nature of this aquatic creature, for those who observe it more carefully report that the ink is not under its control—as if it vomits it forth voluntarily—but that this black liquid caught in the entrails of the fish is an excrement which must necessarily be poured out when the weak and fearful creature’s members are contracted by terror. Yet it is attributed to a kind of cunning that the creature, as it were, turns the necessity itself into a strategy, and by this effusion of black liquid, it generally secures its own safety, thus escaping the hands of those catching it. For when it senses the fisherman looming over it and trying to catch it, it vomits the ink, and the water in which it is, which was formerly clear, becomes muddied and dark; and in that darkness it finds a way of escape. Thus Andronikos Tarchaneiotes, in order to carry out his deliberate defection securely and without impediment, decided first to disturb and confuse everything by summoning the Tocharians into Roman lands; they immediately rushed to the promised plunder and were seen in great numbers within the borders of the empire. As for the extent of the slaughter and injuries of every kind that they inflicted upon the inhabitants of those wretched regions, this would be a task of no small proportions, for the magnitude of these atrocious evils is something to be written not in letters, but in tears.

The truth, however, as one might safely say, is that these events were no less severe than the slaughter that occurred earlier under Constantine. He himself, seeking aid for his confusion, fled with his wife to his father-in-law. What kind of welcome he received there it is perhaps superfluous to recount, though it did provide fuel for the kindling of war. For until that time, the Duke, content with his own resources, had remained quiet, waiting; ^A there were, however, times when he was preparing his own path by constructing fortifications against the Emperor, and by subduing the regions around Ioannina. Yet it was not at all in the nature of that man to remain peaceful, relishing as he did battles and wars, from which he always hoped to reap some profit. For the leisure of a man of action, even when he seems to be doing nothing, accomplishes the greatest things; for just as it is in the character of an idle and slothful soul to waste time in trivialities, so it is characteristic of a fervent and diligent one to grapple closely with reality. Thus, he was using such matters as his own experience and strategy offered to those whom he engaged, not fighting whenever it seemed best to his enemies, but rather rousing the helpless by his own activity.

31. Expedition of the Despot John with many thousands of troops against Duke John; and of the latter's notable exploit.

^B These events then took place, and the Emperor, pained by these developments, prepared greater forces—a multitude, it is said, of about forty thousand, including the naval elements—and having entrusted them to the Despot, sent him with all speed against John. He also sent with him many others of the commanders and great men, one of whom was he who also held the office of Domestic of the Table. This was the Caballarius Alexius, a generous and manly man, who later tasted the fruits of war, having been struck by an arrow in battle by some person, which secured him glory on the one hand, and on the other, a glorious death—a fate for the young that is most beautiful to fall in. As the Despot took command of these forces and marched toward the West, confident in his preparations as if he were about to shake the very earth, the Emperor likewise armed the people by sea, and having equipped a sufficient fleet from the city and from wherever there were regions and shipyards, so that the total number of long and fast-sailing ships amounted to seventy-three, he entrusted them to the Protostrator

^A Philanthropenos and sent him away, ordering him to attack the Latin territories whenever an opportunity might arise; for he thought that the war on land would prosper better if the Latins, keeping their fear of the assistance for John to themselves, were to hold back. And as soon as the Despot arrived with all speed at the place of the new Patras, fear and confusion seized everyone, so that while the regions came over to him from that point, the garrisons hesitated, having resisted only a little—just enough to fulfill their obligation of loyalty to John, not being able to endure the assault; for where else could one have hoped to be saved by any other means or stratagem? John, however, having only those around him and being far inferior in numbers, attempted to save himself through ingenuity. Therefore, moving now here, now there, he secured his position as best he could; for to engage in battle seemed one of the impossibilities. But the men of the Despot, tracking him like someone, pursued him more persistently, ^B occupying in advance the places in which they thought he might be safe, whereby he indeed led them on in his withdrawing, but by showing fear he made them emboldened to attack; for they prevailed in number and grew careless as they pursued. And when he now suspected, as the satiety of all things having been seized, that he should entrust himself to a fortress, he betook himself to Patras, a strong and newly-established city, and entrusted himself to it as one who would be guarded. And he indeed found a strong refuge in Patras, but those around the Despot, having learned of this, besieged the city in a circle. And frequent messages were sent from the Despot to those inside, that they should provide for their own best interests and save themselves by handing him over; for he would not withdraw from there, nor turn anywhere else, nor fail to take thought for the surrounding area, burning and digging up the fields and cutting down the vineyards, and in the end, treating them too as enemies, destroying them completely, even if time were to drag on. While the Despot was sending such messages, those inside, whether out of truthfulness or being urged on by him while he was inside, were defending themselves gently and entreating them to release them from the impulses, promising soon to betray even John. Since therefore time was being wasted in the interim, and the one side were keeping the betrayal suspended by delays, and the others were hoping to accomplish everything any moment, John decided to attempt something of his usual sort. And one must look on as best as possible. For at night, having let himself down by ropes through the wall, so that he might not be detected through

^A soldiers' camp walking, he immediately changes his appearance ^B and puts on a black cloak, and holding in his hands the bridle of a horse, and having prepared himself as a groom, around the middle of the night he went through the whole camp, asking in an inquiring voice repeatedly about a horse he pretended had been lost. And some were feeling sorry for him, while others, from within their tents, excused themselves, claiming they had not seen it at all, and he urged them on, promising a generous reward for its discovery. And having thus escaped the knowledge of everyone, he is released from the Roman camp, and having equipped himself at dawn, and having reached Thebes in a few days by secret paths, with none of his own knowing it (for not even those within Patras, except for his own kin and those he trusted, knew, and they intended for days to hide the drama from those in the city, with John not appearing there), he comes upon the great lord there, who was his namesake (for he was called Syrioannes in the local tongue), and he immediately ^C beseeches his aid, and as a pledge of the treaty he also proposed an alliance, so as to take that man as a son-in-law for his daughter. But the great lord John excused himself regarding his own situation, saying it was not even possible for him to be united in marriage, being a sick man and struggling with a terrible gout; but he offered his brother, the young man William, whom he presented as a son-in-law for he liked him very much and pointed him out as highly useful. But as for the matters of the alliance, he said they would be concluded later, the agreements having been confirmed, which indeed happened; but at that time, having given him three hundred cavalrymen, or even more, as is said, he sends him away from there, men who were warlike and superior to many others in certain respects. Taking these and joining them to his own by secret paths, so that he might be detected by no one, having watched for a favorable time, he falls upon those who were unaware of what had been done and expecting nothing, but living in complete relaxation of mind, as if he were still locked up inside. Meanwhile, as he enters

the army, having heard, was almost thrown into confusion, not knowing the drama. Then, therefore, having joined in battle, on the one side were the Persians under Rimsan, and a large force of Romans and elite troops under the Despot; on the other side were the Italians under John and his own many and expert soldiers, who charged together. And, having engaged, the few conquered the many. For the former, trusting in their own formation, being fresh and ready from that very thing to attack in order, charged in; but the latter, being thunderstruck by the unexpectedness of it, and also because they were a mixed multitude, among whom it was inevitable that some would also fear beyond what was required, were fighting in disorder and as if not trusting in themselves. And finally, the first phalanx having been broken, those in the rear, not being ready, were seized by cowardice and were thrown into confusion, disturbing themselves, and, retreating a little, finally looked toward flight; and the attacker was pressing upon the one before him, and another was pressing upon him, and thus, being confounded, they were casting off their arms and releasing their horses, trusting only in their feet for salvation, while the Despot was doing much, partly to embolden them, partly threatening them, and at times even urging them on. ^B The battle turned, as one might say poetically, and they disregarded the voices of the Despot, each one trembling for himself. For they did not think there were three hundred, or twice or three times that number, but rather they imagined that the number of the adversaries, in conformity with their own size, was so great, as if they would not have been bold unless they were more numerous and attacking with such great forces. Then the Despot also, having looked in vain for hope, turned his reins and, letting his horse go, fled with all his might. From there it was possible to see some falling, others fleeing, others hiding themselves in the bushes and being ready to supplicate for their own safety; others seizing upon gullies and rocks; others again being led away captive, for as many as the cruel hand of those [vanquishers], having suddenly changed by the reversal of fortune, spared contrary to their expectation. For all, the fate was destruction: in body, in money, in arms, in horses, in their very clothing; for that they were of the same race did not entirely persuade them to slaughter, yet to strip the captive as of his garments was, for all, the same. Finally, having attacked the portable dwellings of the grandees and of the Despot himself, they carried off much wealth.

^A For they were diligently collecting even the very spurs of the horses, and they assigned it to gain, such success clearly demonstrating how wise a prayer it was of Antisthenes to wish all good things for one's enemies, provided they lack intelligence; for it is as if all that was among them would come into their possession, if only they had that intelligence. They also gave proof of the utility of good counsel to their opponents, and how much more useful it is; for he who had devised a plan to count thousands as myriads, those who yesterday were wealthy and living in luxury were today, in the eyes of the masses, humbled and impoverished, their own lack of judgment having vied against them. For a commander must be put to the test, and in the midst of danger he must show either that he will be victorious or that he will fall gloriously. For why should he even command, if he did not provide for those others whom he was set to command? And indeed, a commander is not held accountable if he does not forewarn and take precautions; but he is entirely accountable if he does not anticipate the dangers of those for whom he was set as a guardian? Not at all; indeed, far from it. Thus, then, as the unreasonable turn of fortune had occurred and those who had been left behind were terrified, Rumor, that goddess as she is said to be, having let loose her wings, announced the disaster, ^B to some for grief, to others for astonishment, and to others for mockery, whom it indeed persuaded to despise those who were no more and to set upon those remaining. For having heard of the naval force at the Euripus, which was being equipped to a number close to thirty ships, they grew emboldened against those who were more than twice or thrice their number. And indeed, having boarded ships on their own account against the imperial fleet, they set out for those anchored somewhere near Demetrias, as if by appearing suddenly they would make a capture. And having rushed all together, they arrived, hoping with that dash and sheer audacity to strike terror into those who were already dismayed by their previous misfortunes. But even for these, by a small margin, there was no small danger. This, being reported to the Despot who was staying at Drimianis, or, to speak more truly, who was quite overcome by the great misfortune that had happened, stirred up the impulses of his soul, and he suffered exceedingly, fearing for the fleet lest the fated portion, now that so much had occurred, might not be sated, but might go even beyond what had happened. And indeed, in the space of two days, or rather of one entire night, he gathered the remnants of the infantry forces, and having taken them with him, he [reached] Demetrias.

^A arrived just as the fleet was in the very peril of being captured. For the ships of the enemy were already visible, having attacked at that time. As they were drawn up in lines, they attacked together, while the Romans advanced in formation by groups of ten; the men of the first decade were receiving the first clash, and the first of the decade pressed forward, where the Protostrator Philanthropenos also was, and the imperial scepter was raised, as was customary, and indeed having clashed, they stirred up a mighty battle. But it was not possible to withstand one group [of Romans] when many [enemies] had broken in; hence they even prevailed by attacking those who were fighting, slaughtering those holding their ground, and casting down those resisting. Then many became the work of swords, and many also slipped on the water and died, while others, having become wounded, held out to the end. But they pelted the Protostrator with many javelins, and since it was not possible to pierce him, armed [as he was] and fallen, they thrust their swords into the armor and ^B were tormenting him. This turned the rest of the ships, even apart from the danger facing them, into irreparable cowardice. But the Despot, standing on the shore, was stretching out his hands and entreating [them] with loud cries, and as he himself the Despot was lamenting, and [encouraging them] that [help] was near and that they might have aid, and that the time might be to recover from their slip, if only they would take heed. He was stretching out his hands from the outside to those within, and provided signs of encouragement, as though he would send help from there. But they, even beyond expectation, were acting courageously, and were being slaughtered like wild boars. He, meanwhile, was sending a tireless company to the fishermen's boats that happened to be there, and was assisting [them], and with voices and gestures he was calling [them] to defense, so that matters there might not fail. As the danger to them hung as if by a razor's edge, he judged it best to exhort and fervently entreat in that very same humble habit, for because of the terrible resistance on both sides, many of those falling were [there], and the sea was flowing with blood.

32. How the Protostrator Philanthropenos defeats the Italians by force at sea, with the Despot John assisting from the land.

^C Already the leading ship was being condemned and was already being led away by the enemy, in which was also the commander of the ships, and the imperial standards, and the foremost of the fighting men. And at that time ^D and because its crew was no longer able to resist, the rest of the land army, which was in extreme danger, found the [Roman] fleet there. Hostile ships appeared from the deep, arrayed readily to engage in battle. The Roman ones stood opposite, deployed in lines of tens, the battle line deep through multiple ranks; the front of which was the first decade, which had already begun to engage, receiving the first impact of the Latins attacking with great force. Among these ten of ours, the flagship itself was the leader, in which the Protostrator Philanthropenos was carried, from which the imperial scepter, conspicuous on high as was the custom, was extended. It had moved forward before others in a swift dash and had mingled with the enemy, and was fighting strenuously, while the nine others imitated him with all their might. But when the Latins, rising up from all sides with most vehement efforts, rushed against that one [ship] that had moved out of formation, it could not withstand the savage force to the end, and the victors, who had struggled against the constancy of our men – who were resisting most bravely, slaughtering their opponents, casting down those who obstructed them – brought about a miserable slaughter. Then the sword consumed many of the pierced, and many it swallowed after they had fallen into the water of the sea. Still others, though half-dead from wounds, resisted to the end. They sought to strike the Protostrator himself with many missiles, which, since they could not carry the blow into his body, protected everywhere by strong armor, they barbarously tormented him by insinuating their swords through the cracks and joints of the armor, stabbing through to the insides. This, having been observed by the soldiers of other ships, who were struggling against the most fierce attacks of their own, finally broke the stubborn constancy of that place, injecting a sad and incurable fear from despair; when the Despot appeared from the shore, stretching out his hands, and vociferating with a suppliant cry, [imploring them] to stand their ground in spirit: behold, he himself the Despot was bringing aid; the occasion was at hand to repay the enemy for the recent slaughter, if only they would strive a little. Speaking these things with his face, his eyes, [and] the extension of his hands, he was admonishing them, looking from the land at those fighting in the ships, with a nod, a gesture, and every other sign indicating that he was bringing very strong aid and would soon be present. For this truly availed much. Our soldiers, having had their courage restored by the known face and the known voice, were being slaughtered not with impunity, like boars that are encircled by nets and gnashing diry in death itself. Meanwhile, the Despot, having by chance found fishermen's boats, was sending them to assist [the] selected detachments of warriors; and with voices as well as signs from afar, as he had begun, he was animating them; stirring them up to vengeance, warning that this would be the final time for maintaining the Roman state, which would undoubtedly perish if a maritime disaster were to be added to the disaster on land. Though he was doing these things most ardently, he was making little progress; for the danger was being intensified, and the situation was little short of a heralded ruin. Observing more and more the Romans falling, the slaughters being doubled, the cadavers of his own men being heaped up, the sea discolored with gore, and the victors rushing with irresistible force, he judged that help must be sought from elsewhere, [and] he fervently invokes the aid and mercy of God in the most humble habit as a suppliant, not in vain, as will soon be seen.

Jam prætoria nostra expugnata vi hostium ab ipsis abducebatur, et in ea universæ classis præfectus, imperatoria insignia, ipsumque adeo robur nostræ militiæ navalis, lectissimi fortissimique bellatores, quando, ut dictum est, novam addendi

their eagerness, the Despot throws his head-covering to the ground, sprinkles himself with dust, and with most piteous tears beseeches them not to abandon the symbols that were being taken away. By thus entreating them at length, both with words and gestures and with the humility of his demeanor, and by adding many others from outside to fill the places of those missing, he roused the fighters and encouraged them; and even those who were falling were insensible to it, appearing to others as if endowed with endurance beyond what was expected. And finally, they overcome the enemies with much toil and labor. Indeed, of the ships, but two or three having escaped, the rest were captured by force. Some, slaughtered, fell into the sea and were drowned, being dearer to the fishes than to their wives and children; others, shut up in the belly of the ship, were each carried off to the city, wretched men, having provided whatever small comfort they could for the failures and disasters that had preceded. The Despot and those with him, being stripped of everything, arrived at Achridenus Ceramea, a sight truly pitiable and worthy of tears, and were clothed and cared for by those who found them, as was fitting, and restored as much as possible. Then the Despot, feeling extreme pain and sorrow at the calamity, and fleeing the despotic manner, in that he had risked falling into slavery ^A along with the symbols—or if he had reached that state, at least a portion of them and the entire force—he laid aside those symbols of despotism, as many as were in his head-covering and footwear, and in the caparisons of horses and bridles, and in the purple signature; thus deciding to appear before the Emperor, I know not whether in accordance with his own grief or for the sake of appeasing the other. Dressed in common clothes and a woolen cap, he went to appear before the Emperor. And indeed, having appeared, he calmed much of the anger by the removal of the symbols, and by the mere sight—a man pitiable to one who before had been most wrathful.

V. How the Emperor was between grief and joy on account of the events in the West.

^B Thus, indeed, concerning the events in the West, and the disaster on land having been compensated by the success at sea, the Emperor was between grief and joy. Yet, to his reflections... ^{C D} [E'] [P. 230] Thus, then, concerning the events in the West, and with the disaster on land being balanced by the success at sea, the Emperor was between grief and joy. Yet, as for his reflections, he resigned the rest to the free judgment of men, for the estimation of both deeds, and leaned rather toward the more auspicious side.

^A He attributed the mishap to the stealthy incursion of the enemy, and the victory to the heroic generosity of his own men, and considered it right that all the injustices of fortune should be charged to the strength of those who openly broke through by force of arms. He argued that the former should be treated with contempt, as a mere jesting mockery of a contract-breaking scoundrel attempting things beyond his power, but that the latter should be highly valued as an arduous and glorious demonstration of true warlike virtue, to which the honor of a trophy was most rightfully owed. Joy, therefore, easily overcame sorrow in his mind, especially as the memory recurred of so many enemy ships added to his own fleet, and so many enemies captured in them and thrust into custody, where, bound in iron, they stood in silence as a sort of spectacle and trophy of Roman felicity.

Yet, lest the Emperor’s benefit of mind be entirely unalloyed, the danger to Philanthropenos tempered it, for he lay so prostrate from wounds received in the naval battle that his life was despaired of. One of these wounds, located especially in the kidneys, was quite grave, from which many predicted that death would follow. This sad foreboding, however, vanished as the physicians strove strenuously and not without success to treat the sick man, so that in a short time, with clear signs of returning health appearing, those who had been anxious on his account were relieved of their care. When the Emperor judged that he ought to console such a man, who had suffered and risked his life for his cause, he repaid him for his hardships and wounds with ample reward, honoring him with the rank of Great Duke.

The brother of the Emperor, John, when asked why he had laid aside the insignia of a Despot, replied subserviently and gracefully, that once the sons born to Augustus had grown into men, it was not right for the title of Despot to reside in strangers. This response was accepted, and the Emperors gladly allowed John to continue in that modesty. Therefore, instead of the gold-embroidered cap he had previously worn, he placed an ordinary, common cap upon his head; he also shod his feet in black shoes and adorned his own horses with black saddles. Nevertheless, he did not cease to be called Despot in the future, as before, with the people deferring to him out of custom; and the Augusts, not envying him, left it as a title empty of reality.

^B

2. How, as the schism was spreading in the East, the patriarch went there for the sake of reconciling peace.

[P. 231] The affairs of the Church, however, were manifestly sick, and the schism was rising to a great height, with the Arsenites multiplying more and more, so that not only those who had actually seen the patriarch Arsenios and had been zealous for his sake were seen to be separating themselves from the communion of his adversaries and openly struggling for his restitution, but others also, who had never seen him at all, were being drawn into these factions by the intrigue and zeal of his partisans. ^B Above all, the rumor celebrated by everyone’s mouth concerning Joseph—that he was conscious of having contracted excommunication—vehemently disturbed the minds of the many. And although that man strove to extinguish the envy and seek favor through beneficence by distributing the money he had received from the Prince to that end—and was so inclined toward such indulgence that no one asked him for anything without immediately obtaining it—yet he did not even so succeed in avoiding the observation of a great and sad isolation surrounding him. The Emperor, facetiously alluding to this, would often take hold of the patriarch’s pallium when he was present and say that he had opened for him the gates of Paradise, by which he himself

^A should enter, in order that he, along with him, might be trusted to go in behind him, with no one hindering. Now, as for the others who were residing in the city and were openly declaiming against Joseph—as they were leading the populace astray—he thought it best to disregard them, having nothing else to do but to care nothing for their claims to honor and authority; he did not even deem them worthy of notice, but even despised those who spoke most loudly. But knowing that there were spiritual men laboring in the East and living for God alone, and hearing that they too were being scandalized, he hastened to preoccupy their minds, having been seen by them with his own eyes. And having communicated with the emperor concerning these matters, and having been equipped with great sumptuousness, he traveled to the East. And having arrived at the men—among whom was the admirable Blemmydes, who was great both in virtue and in discourse—he exerted much effort to win them over. He persuaded them by saying that he himself was also attached to Arsenius and considered him to be the patriarch, and that he cared not the slightest for the machinations that had been vainly ^B contrived against him; nevertheless, since there was a necessity for the Church to be pastored, there was a necessity for someone to fulfill his place, since he was not available; for he himself was also attached to him and had satisfied the emperor, so that not only would no harsh or irreparable things happen to those attached to him, but also that good things would come to many others, [P. 232] thanks to the emperor’s kindness toward him. He said this to other spiritual men as well, and this he said to Blemmydes himself, and he drew off their goodwill by being courteous. But for Blemmydes, there was another goal in mind that persuaded him to receive that man. For since he was living a philosophical life, wholly removed from these things, and was dispassionate toward what was happening—neither having an attachment to anyone nor being swayed by passion, but his mind was as if it were not entirely contained by a body—he reasoned that Arsenius and Joseph were one; not attending to the bare events happening, as if to judge the one as having been wronged and the other as the intruder—for such things he considered the mark of a lowly mind possessing no more of higher contemplation than the present—but knowing that the stable and immovable belongs to God, while the fact that nothing ever remains the same in anything, even for a moment, belongs to men (^C

(for it has been said—both by Heraclitus, that it is not possible to dip twice into the same river, and even more so by Cratylus, that it is not possible to do so even once, since worldly things flow past like a ceaselessly rushing ^A stream), that such a thing is neither strange nor foreign, even if Arsenius were being treated unjustly. For the necessary thing, and the only pious thing, is to live according to his way; and when this is preserved, all other things must be cast aside by those who choose to live in this manner. For this reason, Joseph also accepted it, even though he felt such toward him that he would not even exit his cell to meet him, nor even rise from a distance to greet him when he approached, nor perform any other fawning or servile act to show him favor. For his inclination toward philosophy, and his grasp of the forms—and only the forms—of things, rendered him relentless toward material things, and while he kept the desired object in his mind, he overlooked the one desiring it. ^B Whence, focusing not on human beings but on things, he maintained his awe and profound astonishment for the latter, and chose to honor others rather than human honors, or those hand-kissings, encounters, servile stances, and other matters in which we human beings take pleasure. And while he behaved with such honor and profound admiration toward those virtues, considering them gifts of God, he behaved toward those who possessed them—as far as he could perceive—based on the fact that not everything that happens occurs according to God and worthily, but sometimes also happens according to man, with God permitting it. He always averted himself from such superstition, and he displayed this disposition to Joseph at that time as well, not intending to dishonor him, but having chosen to hold his judgment in equal measure for all. For in this way he fulfilled the philosophical life philosophically, by not taking into account ^C persons in such a judgment, as he himself had decided. However, as Joseph too was a man, and knowing the necessity of serving, since he had arranged his personal affairs and committed his intentions to paper—which was that he should always remain in that very monastery, and that nothing—according to no one—should be [allowed to change]. ^D

He ordered that the money he possessed, derived from the largesse of emperors and totaling the sum of one hundred pounds, should be held sacred and property belonging entirely to that same monastery of God—for this was the holy house’s own designation—and be assigned in perpetuity as an increase to the endowment or as a supplement for what had been lost or had failed through any manner or chance. ^A He desired that the patriarch should sign this document of his specific decisions, and he importuned the emperor, upon his return to the city, to authorize it and to fortify it with his power to the greatest extent possible. And this was done, though at little cost of effort. For when Blemmydes subsequently died, all those promises and hopes vanished into thin air, as they say, and the testament was rescinded, its confirmation revoked and rendered void. Indeed, the money was assigned to the Great Church ^B as an augment to the dowry, but the monastery for which Blemmydes had so solicitously provided was made subject to the authority of the Galesios monastery and was ordered to be dependent upon and to serve it. The patriarch Joseph, having spent some time in the East, returned to Byzantium.

3. How the daughter of Eulogia was given in marriage to Constantine, king of the Bulgarians.

Not long after the passing of Irene, the spouse of the Bulgarian king Constantine, the sovereign, desiring to bind that king to him with a stronger tie and thus to secure peace and quiet for the regions subject to the Haemus, as well as for Macedonia and Thrace—which he deemed all the more necessary at that time because a large part of the Roman army had been exhausted by ^C constant campaigns and wars—sent envoys to propose a treaty, promising to give him as a bride his own niece, Maria, the second of the daughters of Eulogia, who had previously been married to the grand domestic, Alexius Philes. As the negotiations reached the point where Mesembria and Anchialus began to be included in these terms—for these were cities then held by the emperor, and the king argued they should rightfully be returned to their former possessor as part of the dowry for the marriage—the emperor fulfilled those requirements of the betrothal very generously and in a kingly manner. For the emperor himself and the patriarch ^D went out with the bride-to-be, and, having arrived at Selymbria, they there regal-ly prepared the woman who was being led to marriage with Constantine and sent her off to him under a powerful escort, while they themselves returned. The emperor fulfilled the requirements of the marriage in this way, but regarding the cities, he delayed, knowing in truth that the Roman state would from that point be deprived of its strongest assets; yet he feigned plausible excuses to Constantine, among others that the inhabitants of the cities would not immediately accept the transfer. For he claimed they were part of Rhomania and

and that it was not possible for him, however much he might strive, to remedy this aversion of theirs. That affairs might happen smoothly, it seemed best to wait until a son should be born to Constantine by his new wife; for then, it was hoped, all things would become more favorable, the king of the Bulgarians now having an heir of Roman blood, to whom it would not be unseemly for the Romans to pledge their allegiance. These were the things being alleged, which, to speak the truth, were a mere evasion ^A and a falsehood ^B cast like a veil over the time through promises; nor did it entirely deceive Constantine, although he, willing or unwilling, was compelled to dissemble, and to grieve silently at the fraud practiced upon him by the imposition of a wife who had been given not so much as a helpmate to him as to the Roman land. But after Maria had borne Constantine a son, Michael, all excuse for delay being removed, she too began to side openly with her husband and indignantly to accuse the injury done to both, persistently urging her husband to reclaim the cities unjustly denied him by war. Whence many evils arose; and more and graver ones would have followed, had not the Augustus in good time secured for himself Nogas by a new treaty, by giving him his illegitimate daughter Euphrosyne as a wife. Bound by this necessity, Nogas openly informed the emperor that he would bring the Tocharoi, whom he commanded, into the borders of the Bulgarians as soon as Constantine should begin to raid the Roman territories. This fear suspended the designs of the Bulgarian, and brought about a truce of evils for the Romans.

4. Concerning Nogas and the Tocharoi, how they were before. And concerning their first king and lawgiver.

This man Nogas was the most powerful of the Tocharoi, having attained great skill through long experiments in the art of war, and being trite in the usage of affairs in the management of business. He, ^C with great forces sent from the kin of the Tocharoi themselves—whom they call Mugulii—by the princes of that race (whom they call Canidae) dwelling around the Caspian gates, had invaded the peoples dwelling north of the Euxine [Sea], who had once been subject to the Romans, but [who], after the city was captured by the Latins and the affairs of the empire were driven into a narrow pass, had been neglected by their masters and were then their own masters. These he seized and enslaved easily and without any great struggle at the very first showing of himself. And observing lands that were fruitful and peoples sufficient in themselves to establish a kingdom, he shook off the bridle of the empire by which he had been sent, and began to mind his own affairs, having established a principality of his own. In the process of time, those who dwell inland mixing themselves with them—namely the Alani, Zicchi, Gotthi, and Rhossi, and the various races of people inhabiting the lands bordering upon these—gradually learned their customs, and adopting their language and dress through usage of life, they also became their allies in war. And not long after, the people of the Tocharoi who had arrived gave way to a superiority of number, and they became irresistible wherever they went with their forces, so that even some of the superior lords who were rebels against them by the law of war were ^D not only unable to prevail against them, but also fell into the loss of most of their own people, and, having received great defeats, considered it a gain that a few should have a safe return. This race takes delight in a simple life; they adhere to one another by a mutual bond of civil charity; they are tolerant of labors, most prompt for wars, and needing little for food and clothing,

^A nor do they gather or store up for the future with greedy providence. It was a certain ancient legislator of theirs who formed them into this discipline—not, indeed, Solon or Lycurgus or Draco (for these were wise men for the wise, and learned men for the learned, who established precise laws for the Athenians, the Lacedaemonians, and certain others), but an obscure and ignoble man, worn down by the labor of a vile craft, a blacksmith at first, who was then brought out from the soot of his workshop and furnace into imperial power and declared "Canis"—for thus they call a prince. He stirred up that nation not to hesitate to sally forth from the Caspian gates, daring to promise that, wherever they might wage war, they would never be defrauded of victory if they devoted diligent attention to the laws established by him. The sum of the laws was this: Let them shun luxuries. Let them be content with what is at hand. Let them maintain the charity of mutual society. Let them avoid consulting for themselves privately at their own discretion. Let them aspire to nothing refined in life or diet. Let them partake of whatever food without any distinction of clean or unclean. Let them keep several wives at once, and let them delegate to these the care of providing things for their sustenance and clothing; from this they would gain the multiplication of the race, and from this too an abundance of necessities. Let them spurn the possession of landed property and soil. Let them not linger in the building of houses, but let them embrace a nomadic life, moving constantly hither and thither wherever utility calls. Whenever food is lacking, let them procure it either by arrow and hunting, or let them suck the blood from a vein cut in a horse. If there should be need of more solid food, let them place the intestine of a sheep filled with blood under a saddle. Thus, the blood congealed by delay and cooked by that heat is to be devoured when the desire for eating arises. Wherever any scrap of cloth or skin happens to be found cast away, let it be lifted up and stitched at once to the garment with which one is covered, even if ^B it is good and needs no mending. By ordering this to be done even without necessity, he was acting so that, when there was need, no one might be ashamed to mend his own garment by hand and be clothed in rags patched together from old remnants. Furthermore, by these prescriptions he hoped to ensure that all his people should enjoy the greatest security of life and should always be ready at a signal, not being hampered by any anxiety anywhere, since they were effectively provided for in all things—spear, saddle, clothing, and food, in which alone they had need—by womanly service from the women's quarters, so that they themselves might attend solely to the business of war and the plundering of others, having no other business, nor curiously inquiring what might happen. The author of such laws was Tzinciscanis. For since this man was called by his own name "Tzincis," the word "Canis," which means king, was added to his private designation, producing the name Tzinciscanis, a name now occurring to my memory (for when I began to write about this, it had not yet come into my mind). But these peoples, acquiescing in these his prescriptions, came to hold to truthfulness in speaking and equity in acting: the former of these befits the liberty of the mind, the latter, the rectitude of morals. The former, in turn, renders the listener safe from the fraudulent deception of a lying associate; the latter frees everyone from the insidious wiles of those who attack others. When the emperor, having then entered into a treaty of alliance with the prince of this nation, Nogam, sent many gifts—as many as were shown in abundance concerning the instruments of luxury—to invite him to the delicacies of Roman custom, he achieved very little, at least as far as persuading him of the softness of clothing is concerned. For although he had taken care to provide various [foods of exquisite taste to be offered to him...]

alongside entire jars of aromatic wines, which he accepted not unwillingly, he also accepted gold and silver when presented in vessels and goblets. But as for the variegated items, whether head-coverings or garments for the limbs (for the emperor was also generous in sending these as well), he would take them in his hands and ask the messenger if the head-covering would serve to keep his head free from pain and suffering, and if the pearls sewn into it possessed the power to ward off lightning, so that the wearer might not be struck by the thunderclaps; or if the stone would help with that, and if the precious garments could further contribute to the relief of his limbs. If they said no, he would cast them aside; even if he had put them on for a short while, merely to fulfill the demands of friendship, he would immediately take them off and return to his customary fur or sheepskin, and he felt more at home wearing that than in his costly robes. He did the same with the head-coverings, preferring those necessary for use over the superfluous ones, even if they were of great value. But if the one who had brought them, feigning, said that it would prove beneficial to the wearer in any way or place, he immediately believed him and wore it, caring not for the stones or pearls, but for the utility promised. ^B Having, therefore, such a powerful prince ready to invade Bulgaria whenever Constantine stirred from there to plunder or in any way harass the regions subject to the empire, the emperor held on securely and tenaciously not only to Mesembria and Anchialos, but also to Sozopolis, Agathiopolis, Canstritzis, and certain other fortresses, which had been captured by his commanders using the opportunity offered; these he had seized in such a way that he seemed certain never to let them go from his hands, nor ever to return even the shadow or any small fraction of these newly acquired fortifications. For he believed that he held Mesembria, which he had possessed of old, by his own right, since it had been granted to him by its then legitimate lord, Mytzes.

5. Regarding Mytzes, and how he surrendered Mesembria to the emperor.

This Mytzes, to relate the matter more distinctly by going further back, was a son-in-law of Asan, having married his daughter, and was a brother-in-law to Theodore Lascaris, being joined to him by the same degree of affinity as Asan. Now this Asan is the one whom history records as having been an ally to the emperor John Ducas and, having joined his forces with him in a common expedition, having overrun the Western regions, displaying signs of every refinement. But when John had died and Asan received the kingdom of the Bulgarians, being a Bulgarian by birth, it happened that he offended the emperor, with these rivalries breaking out into open war, as Asan more than once opposed his forces to those of the Romans. But it also happened that he became displeasing to his own people, the Bulgarians, with many of the chief among them being gravely offended and hostile toward him. Whence he fell into no small troubles, as the nobles, whom envy had alienated from him, inclined toward Constantine, who drew half his lineage from the Serbs; for ^C he, lacking any kinship with Asan, was nonetheless lacking nothing in terms of support for his lordship.

^A And so, while it fell to him to incur the hostility of many of the greatest of the Bulgarians and to fall into unwarranted disturbances, for that very reason they inclined toward Constantine, who drew half his lineage from the Serbs. As far, then, as he fell short of those from his own race for the principate, having nothing of Asan’s blood, by taking the granddaughter of that man as his wife for the son he had sent, he stood on equal legal footing with Mytzes regarding the kingdom of Asan. And while Mytzes held Ternovo and bore the glories of the kingdom magnificently, Mytzes, ruling the surrounding regions, was at times content with these and kept the peace, while at other times he contended again against Constantine—whom, in fact, he once pursued and shut up in our own Sthenimachus. And had he not used the forces of the Romans for help, he would perhaps have been captured and destroyed. But fortune tips the scales, and having gained strength again, Constantine pursued Mytzes more vigorously. ^B Mytzes then, having reached Mesembria with his children, from there beseeched the emperor to receive him and take the city as his ransom. The emperor therefore sent Glabas, the Curopalates—who was later Great Papias—with others and a sufficient army; upon reaching Mesembria, he took possession of it for the Romans, while Mytzes was led by land through Haemus to the emperor. He received him with great kindness and, having refreshed him with every sign of affection, assigned him rich lands near the Scamander, whose annual revenue was abundantly sufficient for his maintenance and splendid style of living. There he subsequently resided with his children, having previously concluded an agreement with the emperor, by which it was mutually settled between them that the eldest son of Mytzes, John, would be betrothed to the eldest daughter of the emperor.

6. Concerning the treaty of the emperor with the Serbs, and the journey of the patriarch to Serbia for that reason.

Thus was the marriage provided for Irene, the eldest of the emperor’s daughters. As for the second, Anna, her father decided to send her to the kral of Serbia, Stephen Uroš, to be married to his second son, Melotinus—for the eldest, his father’s namesake, already had a wife, the daughter of the king of Pannonia. Since everything had been agreed upon beforehand, the emperor sent the patriarch as his legate to carry out the pacts, and along with him the virgin bride, attended by a magnificent royal retinue. ^C And when they had all reached Berrhoea together, it seemed to them generally expedient that the chartophylax Veccus be sent ahead to Stephen Uroš, and that the bishop of Traianopolis, Cudumenes, be sent with him. It had been specifically instructed by the Augusta to the chartophylax that he should proceed ahead of the bride, and, arriving first in Serbia, should explore clearly what kind of people they were, what their manner of life and custom was, what the organization of their public affairs, and what the law and usages of their principality were. ^D For when she had lavished upon her departing daughter equipment and pomp of the most royal kind possible, and had provided, both in appearance and in cost for magnificence, and in use and abundance for softness and luxury, she wished, with typical feminine curiosity, to know whether she would find there anything equal to them, or to what proportion they might correspond to her daughter’s things. For that reason she had ordered Veccus to proceed there first, and to signify to her by messenger what...

he had discovered, before the patriarch set foot in Serbia. But when they arrived, they not only saw nothing there that was worthy of such preparations, nor even of the most ordinary rank, but Uresis himself, observing the equipment and the household—and especially the eunuchs—stood as if struck with astonishment at such an unexpected thing, and asked what on earth these were and what purpose they served. When he heard from them that this was merely the royal order, and that they had followed the queen in preparation for her, he was restless and said, “Alas, alas, what is this? This manner of life is not customary for us.” And he spoke, and at the same time showed them his daughter-in-law, wearing poor clothes and occupied with wool-working, and pointing with his hand, he added, “Thus do we treat our daughters-in-law.” Indeed, their entire way of life was simple and modest to the very end, as if maintained by hunting and theft. When those who had been sent returned and described precisely to the patriarch what they had seen and heard, they dampened the enthusiasm of those around him, and they felt dread for themselves, lest they should fall into some trap; for they had no reason to trust men who were not deterred by shame or blame. For a time, they continued their journey sluggishly, being suspicious of everything. But when they reached Achrida, they left the royal maiden there with her personal attendants; they themselves continued their journey slowly, having sent messengers to Uresis to inform him that they would await his commands and the encounter with those sent by him at Pologus. This name, in the language of the Serbs, signifies, as they say, “Grove of God.” As they went toward Lipanium, an embassy from the Kral met them, the head of which was a certain Georgius, who held an office there similar to that which we call the ^B *mesazon*. Our men had already heard of the damage he had inflicted through an ambush and robbery, and they learned of it with greater certainty from his own account. And just as they had been shaken at the first report of the affair, so, having received this confirmation, they felt most downcast at what sort of people and places they had come to; for what was there not to fear, rightly, in such a license of barbarism? Or how could they hope that those who did not even refrain from the most extreme injuries against their own people, and those even distinguished by the same office, would spare foreigners and hold back their greedy hands from foreign treasure? Moreover, regarding the business itself and the treaty between the two princes, this Georgius spoke so inconsistently and ambiguously that he drove every hope of success from the minds of the prudent. First of all, it was discovered that an error had been presented to the Emperor regarding the actual matter and substance of the affair, while he believed he was betrothing his daughter to the younger son of the Kral, who was nonetheless—on account of the incurable illness of the elder—the undisputed heir and designated successor to the kingdom of Serbia. Now, however, it was understood from the words of Georgius that the claims that had been touted about a broken leg and the desperate health of the first-born, who had the daughter of the King of Pannonia in marriage, had been empty. Regarding the other matters pertaining to the affair, the same envoy brought no less unexpected and ambiguous news, proposing other matters of which no mention had ever been made before, and deviously weaving circles around the issues, shrouding those things which had been definitely agreed upon in an artful silence. All these things concurred as our people wondered ^{C D}

^A regarding the road, which was infested with banditry, and these were feared not without cause; the envoy himself, recounting the losses of that kind recently sustained, made this fully credible. A factor of no small import also added weight to the new decision: what the chartophylax had reported having seen firsthand regarding the squalor and domestic misery of the king of Serbia, and what he said the Augusta had urgently entrusted to him regarding providing for the dignity and comfort of her daughter, whom, as matters stood, it was manifest—if they were led to the destination intended—would be consigned not to a kingdom or the hope of a kingdom, but to a most wretched servitude. These considerations checked the zeal of the patriarch and the others in that company who were conspicuous for their leading rank, as they reckoned that no benefit or even tolerable outcome of their undertaking, and no fruit of a long and laborious journey, appeared to be hoped for; nor did any faith seem likely to be placed in the agreements, if one were to judge the future by the present. What point was there, therefore, in plunging deeper and more irrevocably into a matter confused by ambiguities and devious windings, as if into a blind and intricate labyrinth, and not rather, having discovered the fraud even if late, withdrawing their foot immediately and at last taking counsel for the honor of the empire and the dignity and safety of the imperial maiden?

While they were debating such things and were still uncertain of their purpose, something occurred which turned these suspicions into fear and an expectation of suffering something grave and fatal if they proceeded further. For the inhabitants of the region, approaching ^B and receding in bands whenever they saw them at close quarters with a less than friendly countenance, thus providing the appearance of people who had occupied a place with traps, from which they might burst out by night and launch an attack upon the travelers whose journey they had scouted and whose amount of booty they had observed with their own eyes, brought terror upon our people, which soon passed into grief. For not much later, nocturnal raiders arrived secretly, and with suspended step and greatest care to avoid noise, they led away our people’s horses and fled as far as they could with them. At dawn, the Romans, having discovered the theft, sought the authors of the deed, questioning those they met as to whether they knew anything of these matters. But the pursuit of gathering evidence and testimony from those who were accomplices in the thefts against their own countrymen and associates—whose rapacity they seemed more willing to imitate than to accuse—was clearly ^C vain. And so it was the prudent counsel not to press this matter too much, lest the barbarian race, provoked by that very insistence, should, while hiding a beastly ferocity under a human appearance, plot something worse and more deadly. Nevertheless, so as not to leave any avenue untried, they approached the magistrates of those places, asking them to see to it that the horses be restored to them, without which they could not complete the intended journey to their king. But nothing could be obtained from them except that they offered horses of that region, in no way comparable to those lost. Seeing this, our people were finally forced—to use the common expression—to lean into the prow and resolve to turn back the journey.

Therefore, withdrawing their foot with all the speed possible given such difficulties, they retreated to Achrida, and there, taking up the imperial maiden again, they escorted her to Thessalonica, and having abandoned all thought of that unworthy and pernicious alliance, they returned to the emperor. ^D

7. Of Dyrrachium, and of the earthquake by which that city was overturned.

Around this time or shortly thereafter occurred the miserable catastrophe of Dyrrachium, worthy of the tears of all, which happened in approximately this fashion. In the beginning of the month of March, sonorous rumblings from the earth grew into a noise almost

incessant; if one were to disclose them, one might call them moans, and they were clearly signs of an evil approaching from nearby. For one day, at any rate, the clatter sounded more continuously and more loudly than before. To some, the fear that had taken hold gave them the impulse to live somewhere outside of the city, in case, if it should increase further, they might escape it. But night was coming upon those diurnal rackets, and a heavy earthquake struck, greater than those recorded. It was not, as one might say, a shaking of the earth moving sideways, but a violent upward pulsing, such that in an instant that whole city was overturned from its foundations and fell to the ground. Those houses and rising structures, not resisting even in the slightest, gave way and collapsed, with men being caught inside, having nowhere to flee. For the density of the buildings stood in the way of their flight, and it was far easier to be saved inside the houses than by going out—except that even those were saved only in part; for there was not one that remained intact. For one fell upon another, and whoever escaped the danger of the collapse of one, was caught by another falling through some chance.

And immediate was the disaster, but difficult such that anyone could escape by fleeing. And to many, it appeared even in a dream—they who, before they could learn what had happened, were swept away and perished. Young children and infants, not even knowing the hardship, were suffocated among the ruins. ^B Such, moreover, was the sudden crash and uproar, that even with the sea churning from the outside, those who survived suspected not merely that those events were the "beginning of birth pains," but that the very consummation of the world itself had come to pass; for since that city was by the sea, and a terrible shaking suddenly fell upon it, with such an uproar having occurred from the people, and such a crash from the buildings falling upon one another, those found outside, being more greatly persuaded, had nothing else to suspect but the disappearance of the entire world. When, therefore, the earthquake had prevailed for no small time, so that nothing remained standing, but everything inside fell and buried the people together—save for the acropolis alone (for that alone held fast and did not succumb to the earthquake)—when the day appeared, the neighbors ran together with mattocks ^C to save what they might, if anyone still remained under the heaps. ^D And a most wretched lot it might have appeared to be for the majority, whom death seized while asleep, like a sad dream: for they gained an advantage by anticipating the anguish, if they had been awake, of the extreme fate, the most savage horrors of fear and desperation, which—having been consumed by a sudden calamity—they did not even know they were perishing. This was the chief happiness of the sucklings or the children who had not yet attained to the age of reason. For such, crushed suffocatingly, experienced only one misery of the body, not exacerbated by any previous anguish of the mind. Among these things, as to the sound of falling roofs, to the cries and groans of perishing men, was added the horrible roaring of the sea, which was simultaneously seething with an unwonted tide; those who still survived, seeing these initial trials of such evils, thought this did not portend some ordinary misfortune of human affairs, but rather the final consummation of nature and the whole world. For since the city of Dyrrachium was situated by a sea that was more turbulent then than ever before, and since from the varied ruin of the whole city, from the collision of falling masses, from the chorus of the distraught or the dying, a horrible mixture of immense sounds and crashes filled the air, those who were outside Dyrrachium that night, receiving with astonished ears this most tumultuous confusion of voices and most horrible noises, could surely suspect nothing milder than that the end of human affairs had arrived, and the day fatal to the destruction of heaven and earth. The earthquake, having raged with this violence for no small space of time in the city, had left nothing else there upon which it might continue to vent its fury; save for the citadel, which alone stood unharmed, all the buildings had collapsed, and all the men found within them had been buried in a common grave. As the rising sun displayed that tragic sight far and wide to the eyes, which such a dire outcome

had made manifest, those from the surrounding districts ^A rushed there from the countryside in the greatest possible numbers, taking into their hands mattocks and picks and every instrument suited for moving earth that each could lay his hands upon. With these they began to dig into that vast heap of ruins—which but the day before had been a city—tossing it aside from every side. They were driven either by the urgency of charity, in case they might save some wretch still breathing among the debris and the wreckage of the ruined houses from destruction, or—which was the case for the majority—by the instinct of greedy cupidity, so that they might seize for their own use such great riches buried there along with their possessors, who had perished, together with their offspring and entire kin, leaving no other legitimate heir behind, and they had no fear of legal entanglements or any interdict concerning violence. For several days the labor continued, during which that pile was turned over and examined, until at last it was leveled into a flat surface. From this field many reaped a golden harvest, using their mattocks as if they were sickles—the Albanians and other surrounding inhabitants—and finally, once they had withdrawn with the booty, they left that once-city completely deserted. Now it shows only slight signs of where it had been, being numbered among cities for form's sake, and only [in name], since it is no longer a city. Its bishop, Nicetas, alone among those found among the ruins, survived—though indeed he was saved while bearing on many parts of his body the ^B marks of that danger, carrying on his person clear evidences of the peril he had survived: a bitter physical memory of a disaster he had witnessed and felt to be more atrocious than any opinion could conceive. He was so struck that he fled the place and could no longer bear to stand upon the tomb of his own metropolis, which this final departure of its shepherd left completely desolate.

8. Concerning King Charles, and how he prepared his fleet

At that time, the fortune of Charles, King of Apulia, who had long since defeated Manfred, was at the flower and peak of its prosperity. First of all, he was considered powerful and fearsome due to a massive naval armament. He openly declared himself hostile to the Emperor on account of the alliance, confirmed by affinity, which existed between him and Baldwin. As if to claim his own previous right, he was preparing an expedition against the city of Constantinople, and he had acquired and gathered ships that were both extremely sturdy and numerous, and remarkably well-equipped for the purpose, both with men and arms and other necessary supplies. Nor, being content with this, did he fail to petition the Pope, urging him with ardent prayers that he himself might become the author of such an expedition against Constantinople and place himself in charge of this affair; for he argued that this war, by which the inheritance of his children was to be reclaimed, was worthy to be waged in the name and under the auspices of the common Father. As they consented to these things, the Church also approved the plan and promised to cooperate as much as it could toward the fulfillment of his wishes. Charles was then intent on discussing and bringing these things to pass. The Emperor, however, feeling himself entirely unequal to sustaining such a war and not doubting in the least that the Roman state would succumb if Charles were to lead against it both the aforementioned highly-equipped fleet and the very strong land army he had also prepared, to be deported from Brundisium to the harbor of Dyrrachium—which was either already empty or lay exposed to whoever might seize it—knew that he had to deal with the war against him in a different way. And indeed, he frequently sent his own messengers to the Pope (for he could not access any of those standing at his doors...)

^A but also secretly sent letter-bearers—indeed, those among the Latins he knew were well-regarded and identified with their clique, and sometimes even those whom they themselves call "Freres" (Friars), as if they were brothers—coaxing and flattering them. He was extremely earnest in entreating the Roman High Priest and imploring him not to allow Charles to carry out his intentions, nor to permit Christians to wage war upon Christians; for the Romans, whom they call Greeks, were also, like the Italians, of the same Christ and the same Church, and they also considered this very man their spiritual father and ranked him as the first among high priests. He even began to promise him better things: ^B namely, that the Church of God might become one sheepfold, and the scandal in the midst, which had been introduced into the Churches to no profit long ago, might be removed; for there would no longer be any obstacle to these things coming to pass once those in exile had been restored to the city. He frequently signaled these things, and by sending gold to the cardinals—the Greek might call these "hinges" [(στρόφιγξιν)], as if they were the doors of the Pope in imitation of Christ—and to others, he made them his advocates, and Charles was restrained. ^C But the Emperor himself, tightening the bond of peace with the Church even more, kindly received those coming from there, and especially if they were of that Church, just as he once did the Bishop of Croton, a learned man skilled in both languages in accordance with divine science, whom he also sent to the Patriarch and, after a time, arranged for him to change his attire to the more Greek style, desiring and managing for the church to be given to him through the gift of his own expertise, as if he were free from his former charge; and it would have come to pass, had he not been discovered to be ill-disposed and harmful to our interests; so, while he was permitted to continue wearing Greek attire, he had nevertheless lost the Imperial favor and was exiled somewhere near Heraclea in the Pontus. ^D For the time being, however, there was no obstacle to the Church using him as he was. He received many other Friars, too, and sent them to the Church to be admitted by the bishops and the Patriarch, through the offering of their communion in the psalms, in the entrances to the sanctuary, and in the [participation in the divine bread, which they call *antidoron*, in all these things...]

except only for the reception of the holy chalice (for they were not seeking this), which he had pledged and undertaken to strive and to labor to procure—he was even now auspiciously initiating the peace of the Churches and gradually preparing the way by removing obstacles. ^B

9. *How the emperor sent ambassadors to the King of France.*

[p. 246] He also sent men of the Church, of great dignity—owing both to the merit of their virtues and to the authority of the offices they held—to the King of France, who was by birth the brother of Charles, though in his ways he bore little resemblance to his brother. These men were the chartophylax of the Church, Veccus, and the royal archdeacon of the clergy, Meliteniotes. ^C Since they were not permitted to cross directly to Brindisi on account of the fear of Charles who held sway there, it was prescribed that they should travel by land on horseback to Aulon, and from there, having boarded a ship and traversing the sea, they should make their crossing to the King, wherever he might happen to be staying. The purpose of the embassy was to soothe him with gifts and words as much as possible, and to endeavor to induce him, whom rumor reported to be studious of peace, to persuade his brother by written letters not to disturb the Orient with war. ^D For it was considered likely that the authority of the elder brother—who had been king from the beginning, who was so much superior to him in power, and who was moreover held to be upright in life and blameless in his ways—would have great weight in softening the spirit and curbing the fierce impulses of Charles, the younger brother, who had only recently begun to be called king and possessed a more narrow kingdom, inferior to his brother’s in resources. For a straight line should not be adjusted to the standard of a crooked one (in truth, this would be a depravation, not a correction), but the crookedness of the distorted must be leveled to the straight, as the very definition of the term *rule* [regula] indicates, being derived from "steering" and "directing." But if he could not persuade his brother, he should at least act before the Pope on behalf of the Greeks, being their brothers and also dignified by the same name of Christians, and thus attempt to break his brother's machinations against the Romans. Having received these instructions from the emperor, the legates set out, accompanied by a numerous and ornate retinue and guard, and equipped with royal finery and splendid furnishings, with imperial images and vessels, so that the long procession of those carrying these things, and the rest of the magnificence of the illustrious pomp, created a marvelous sight to the peoples as they left the city in astonishment. Arrived at Aulon, where they boarded a ship, they reached Pachynum in Sicily, only to learn that the King had crossed to the opposite shore near Carthage, which they now call Tunis, to make war against the Ethiopians holding Africa. Therefore, having waited there for a few days, they set sail to cross the Sicilian strait toward Tunis, but on that course, they wrecked their ship and narrowly escaped being swallowed by the sea. But when, having suffered much, they finally disembarked, they delivered the imperial letters to the King, who was lying ill with a grave sickness. The King, uncertain what to do, being pressed on one side by his illness and on the other distracted by the cares of war, was delaying his expedition and...

and was looking toward his recovery. Every day our people saw a piteous sight between the Saracens and the Latins. For the Italians had dug a long trench from the sea, and they held the space that lay between it and the sea. The Ethiopians, using Carthage as a fortress and a base of operations, remained in safety, yet had the means from there to sally forth boldly. They fought continuously day by day against each other, so that very many fell on both sides. A severe pestilence was also pressing upon them; they died in ever greater numbers, and there was no one to bury them, nor were funeral pyres lit for the dead. That trench, which was wide and deep, and kept the living safe, received them also when they died; and so many did it receive that it was in danger of being filled up and leveled with the ground; so many were falling there daily, some struck by the enemy’s steel, others destroyed by the pestilence. Yet the survivors remained spirited; conscious that they were in danger for the glory of the cross, and drawing fervor and audacity from the cause of the war, they struggled most bravely against however great the injustice of fortune. The King, meanwhile, as the disease grew worse and he was reduced to such a state that his life was despaired of, addressed the envoys, showing a great inclination toward securing peace between the Emperor and his brother. He promised that he would promote this reconciliation with all his might, if his life held out, and meanwhile he bade them wait and rest. After these words, the next day was his last. When the King had died, those who stood by him—convinced that his soul was most precious to — ^B having prepared the body straightway, as if it were a soul reconciled to God, anointed it with perfumes and boiled it in a cauldron, placing the remains into precious caskets so as to carry them back to his fatherland; however, the envoys, it is said, returned with empty hands, contrary to what had been promised. But the Emperor, although frustrated in his hope by the King’s death, did not cease from advancing toward his goal by other means; instead, having employed many other intercessors with the Pope (for the great fear of Charles persuaded him to try everything), he attempted to obtain from him that he might hinder the expedition of Charles.

10. How, upon hearing of the fleet, the Emperor prepared what was necessary for the defense of the city. ^B Nor did he feel such confidence in these efforts—in the art of averting war—as to assume sure success, and thus neglect military preparations; rather, he devoted diligent effort to providing for everything that might be necessary to repel force in any event. ^C [P. 248] First of all, he brought grain into the city in such abundance that, after the public granaries and the towers were fully stocked, there was still a great deal left over, which he deposited with the citizens in a marked quantity, to be returned by them in equal measure when it should be called for. He also introduced very large herds of swine, which he likewise distributed among the citizens, assigning ten or so pigs to each. Those who received these were ordered to butcher them immediately, and to keep the entrails for themselves, while saving the solid, salted portions for the public treasury. To these, he took care that an immense supply of arms of every form be brought, especially javelins, arrows, and missiles of every type.

^A He likewise prepared the entire navy. He set numerous builders and overseers to double the city wall on the side facing the sea, for the part facing the land had already been doubled throughout. He also organized a great number of fighting men—as many as he deemed sufficient for such warlike preparation—distributing them from that very moment, so that they might be brought in at the right time with their arms and supplies. Sending them out, he fortified some of those along the shores and the islands, and drew others back.

He did not approve of the shipyard at the Blachernae, considering it disadvantageous for naval encounters with the enemy. He deemed it difficult for the ships to fight there in a head-on position, as they could not stand their ground firmly. He felt the same way about the old shipyard—and I do not mean the one that the Latins used just the other day, near the monastery of Christ the Benefactor, but the one near the gate of the shipyard, which took its name from it—because the entire horn of the harbor was exposed to the sea, and offered the same convenience to the Roman ships as it did to those of the enemy. ^B But knowing that fighting with one’s back to the enemy is, on the one hand, more courageous for the men in the situation, and on the other, more secure for the maneuvering, he intended to rebuild the Vlanga Contoskelion. He wished to surround the surrounding area with massive stones, to deepen the sea within, by pouring in liquid mercury to the bottom, and to build a structure there sufficient to provide shelter for the ships. He also ordered iron gates to be fitted to the stone entrance from the outside, so that he might keep the fleet safe, and at the same time, when the enemy’s ships were putting to sea (for they could not stay due to the turbulence of the sea), our own ships could fall upon them from the rear.

He also secured the Genoese living in Pera, so that, keeping their treaties, they would not join [the enemy] in the attack; indeed, he took precautions regarding their communication with those who were coming, lest, even if they refrained from war against them because of their kinship, they might otherwise be enticed or made into his own (one might call them his *ligii*) through his acts of kindness. ^C While busy with these arrangements, he did not hesitate to dispatch frequent embassies to the Pope by way of the sea, especially because the Popes were constantly passing away. And regarding the matter of the embassies, ^D the principal issue placed at the head of all these negotiations with the Pope was the attractive and long-desired matter of the union of the Churches.

^A For, comparing the synodal decision made in the time of John Doukas—which, for no reason other than the desire to secure from there an alliance for those in the City, had refrained from [actions], as our people were ready to celebrate the liturgy there and commemorate the Pope, provided these things were promised (and Andronikos of Sardis and George of Cyzicus were sent, and it might well have been accomplished, had those [Latins] accepted)—comparing that event to the present one, and finding the current situation more compelling than the former—in so far as then they were hastening to gain what they did not possess, whereas now they were in danger of losing what was at hand—he put forward the same [proposals], and in the same way, to them. For he believed that there was no other way to persuade the Pope to fight for the Greeks, unless he promised and did these things; for the scandal stood in the way, and the fact that the Latins regarded the Greeks as "white Saracens" was a greater grievance. This, therefore, is what he was also managing through the peace negotiations, ^B and through the removal of the scandal, hoping to check the fleet of Charles, and by doing so, to ensure the Romans could once again hold their homeland securely, not having to leave it again to return, after having only just seen it yesterday or the day before, having barely recovered it with such difficulty, and at the risk that, in addition, danger hung over the majority of them. Revolving these things in his mind, he was insistent in persuading the Patriarch and the synod. They, however—though they listened to these things only cursorily and perfunctorily, rather than willingly—at the time nevertheless feigned that the mention of this was grateful and pleasing to them, as if their ears were being smoothed by it—a pretense which was false, and far removed from their hidden thoughts. But for them, just as the business did not please them, so they lacked the courage at that moment to openly oppose the prince to his face, by whose favor and reverence they were wretchedly constrained, and so they offered the appearance of acquiescence. At any rate, they were certain that they would continue, as before, in the established possession of independent authority, through which they firmly intended to guard the Church, as before, from all absolute subjection to a foreign primacy, lest they should ever be subjected, as they loathed to contemplate, to the judgment of petty peddlers and base men. Yet they thought they could safely dissimulate in these early stages, first because it never crossed their minds that the matter the Emperor was initiating would be brought to completion in such an instant, but rather they trusted—as had often happened to other emperors who had attempted the same things—that the event would turn out the same way, namely, that the business would be disrupted by itself, through circumstances having arisen spontaneously, as

^A a person who had gained a reputation for virtue and a zeal for the ancient peace and concord of the Churches, having been called to the papal office and already performing the journey from Syria to Rome, it occurred to him—for he had heard through the emperor’s messages to the Pope that he was choosing the peace of the Churches—to send to the emperor and salute him warmly, and at the same time to make known his own calling, and how he yearned immensely for the peace of the Churches. And if the emperor also desired this, there would be no better time for it to happen than when he himself held the papal office. When Gregory had communicated these things through the Friars, it was evident that while the ruler was seeking peace with Charles out of fear, as if there were no other thought in his mind than this, Gregory and those around him sought it out of this very love for peace and the union of the Churches. For it was neither just nor at all reasonable for such nations to disagree over trifling matters, but rather that he who was blamed should restore the grounds of complaint and provide peace to the ^B brothers.

11. How, with Pope Gregory established, the emperor set about peace with him

While these things were being agitated, Gregory, who was in Syria—a man widely celebrated for the fame of his virtue and significantly studious of the ancient peace and concord of the Churches—having finally been called to the papal dignity and now traveling from Syria to Rome for this purpose, it came into his mind to send certain men to the emperor with letters, who would first greet him most benevolently on his behalf, and indicate his own vocation to the papacy, and finally declare that he burned with an immense desire for procuring the peace of the Churches and for conciliating a firm concord between them. Wherefore they should signify that, if the emperor were held by an equal zeal (for Gregory had heard what had begun to be set in motion by him regarding this matter, and what he had already taken care to have reported to his predecessor, Pope Clement, on this subject), there would never be for him a more commodious time for treating of this business than when he himself was holding the papal dignity. When Gregory had announced such things to the emperor through the Friars, it was manifest that the emperor had applied his mind to that design of procuring the peace of the Churches solely out of pusillanimity, terrified by the preparations of Charles, and would never have undertaken any thought of such a matter without this; whereas Gregory was applying himself to the same endeavor, captured only by the honesty of the matter, because he saw how much ^D

^A good would redound to the public happiness from this reconciliation, reflecting that it was neither just nor convenient for such and so great peoples to be involved in eternal rivalries over petty causes, and how much more beneficial it would be, whichever of them should be discovered to be at fault, to correct and purge its own crime in good faith, and, the offense being removed, to offer peace to the brothers, and in turn to cultivate that which was received with a sincere mind; or certainly, if after examination it was established that there was nothing in either side that could rightfully be blamed, to persevere tranquilly, both remaining in its own offices and rites established by legitimate use, blaming nothing in the other, and not, as hitherto, to lead the thread of irreconcilable and destructive dissensions for both, having committed themselves to mutual hatreds and contentions; for it was sufficient for both that there were enemies of the cross, whose end is destruction. Abundantly, I say, and much more than is sufficient, there were hostile nations in the attacking of whom those who are accounted by the name of Christ could prove their martial virtue, in which wars both to conquer is glorious and to be conquered is salutary, on account of the huge reward for those who demonstrate their own zeal, and even their efforts, though fruitless in success, most faithfully to God. Thus affected toward one another in their minds were the emperor and Gregory; the latter was indeed proceeding on the path he had begun, about to receive his ordination; the former, however, was persistent in soliciting the synod and coaxing the patriarch’s consent to those things which he was devising, everywhere mentioning and repeatedly inculcating to all that Gregory was a man most studious of peace, and in truth had a desire for the public good and the splendor of the entire Christian estate. Shortly after Gregory had been inaugurated and duly established in the apostolic see, there arrived in Constantinople the envoys of the friars, one of whom was named John Parastron, by origin a citizen of ours, prudent and eloquent in the Greek language. ^B He affirmed both by word and by deeds that he burned with immense zeal for bringing about peace between the discordant churches, so much so that he was often heard to wish and to pray for death for himself, as if he considered there remained nothing else for him to desire in life if only the business of peace being treated could proceed happily to the desired end; and he subsequently became master of his wish. These things he said; and he was in truth a most ardent promoter of ecclesiastical concord, to such a degree that, often discussing the business with the patriarch and the synod, he would most vehemently beg those Fathers not to be reluctant to contribute to the common study the things that belonged to the parties of each, meanwhile holding our affairs in high regard—using our ceremonies, I say, and praising and openly pursuing them with the highest veneration—so that sometimes, when the patriarch was performing the sacred rite, he would uncover his own head, and, having adopted the other signs of deepest reverence, and taking his companions with him, he would enter the adyta and, standing before whomsoever he found there, read the mystical prayers together with him with every fervor of religion. And he indeed behaved himself with such piety and decorum toward men of our rite. But looking at the Italians who were present, he said it was fair and safe that they, having dismissed and removed the scandal of the addition to the symbol, should be reconciled with the brothers whom they saw before them, so that a true peace might finally coalesce. At the same time, however, he warned our people that it was fitting for them also not to spurn the excuses which the Latins alleged for the addition inserted into the symbol, but rather to accept them as suitable. But those who, with all composition rejected, wanting to persist with unconquered obstinacy on both sides in the contention, shouting out on one side that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son, and on the other, from the Father through the Son, with no end to their quarrels ^C or of the peace, which indeed comes to pass later. He said these things, and he was in truth a most warm seeker after peace in reality, so that often, even when meeting with the patriarch and the synod, he would plead and hasten this on, extolling things among us, so that sometimes even when the patriarch was officiating, he, taking off his head-covering, and not only he but also those with him, would enter the adyta, and standing beside the bishop who happened to be there, he would read the mystical prayers together with all enthusiasm. To our own people, therefore, he behaved with such decorum and reverence, but looking toward the Italians he said it was good and safe that, having let go of the addition to the symbol which had been set forth as a scandal to the brothers, they should thus live in peace. But if, then, they were also defending themselves regarding the addition, he said it was just to receive them, so that he was even accusing those who said it proceeds from the Father and the Son, and you who say the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father through the Son, of being deranged, and both of peering into the mysteries of God. He used to say these things, and he was shadowing over the boldness concerning the symbol, being an envoy and wishing to accomplish what was being pursued more than anything else ^D ; but those of the Church

^A said, we affirm that peace is a good thing, and how could it be otherwise? And especially for Churches such as these, which hold the position of head for the disciples of Christ the peace-maker wherever they may be; yet with security, and not as if by chance. For the danger is great for those who err in any way concerning the truth. And this did not just happen to us recently, so as to have a cause for innovating what no one has done before, and for not wishing to return to that which we were before; but great men, virtuous and wise in knowledge, spoke about these things and differed, and they disagreed in the opinion they held. And for the contention to be extended beyond what is moderate was neither willed by them, nor, among those who exceed, is the redundancy anything other than ignorant and bold. ^B Furthermore, for us to even propose the addition to you, that would then have place, and we would be justly reproached, if we were writing to condemn you of impiety or ungodliness—the worst thing—on account of the addition, as if we were also acting impiously by the addition. But since you are attempting to move toward a totality after having been secured, even if you say you are within the truth, what right do you have to propose similar things to us? For who among us has ever dared to confess with an addition as you say? It is good and profitable, therefore, for you, who are hastening for the peace of the Churches, to try to establish it in this way, wisely managing the removal of the scandal among the Italians, and we are the ones who are blamed for the scandal, justly reproaching us as being ready to receive the reproach. But if the scandal sprouted among them, it is necessary, since you are spiritual and an ambassador of peace, to try to push them to recognize the sin in the innovation of the Symbol. » Thus spoke those of the Church, and they were so disposed that they would not listen to the Emperor, even if he were to order them in these matters, and even if he were to threaten the greatest consequences.

12. How the Emperor compelled those of the Church for the sake of peace.

But the Emperor, once having set his mind upon such a purpose...

pursuing this undertaking, I know not whether willingly or by compulsion; what he hid from them, he indicated to us, through his tangled speech betraying an anxious concern over the wars hanging over us and the much blood to be shed; in order to avert these evils, he remained immutably fixed in his resolve to urge the business he had begun, whatever anyone might allege to the contrary. One day, therefore, when the patriarch, the prelates, and some of the clergy had gathered at the emperor's, the emperor discoursed more pressingly and effectively with them concerning the business of peace, interweaving, as was his custom, into his oration the horrors of the dreadful evils, which this one plan alone offered a means of avoiding. ^A He added that there was no danger in assenting to what the Latins desired, demonstrating this by many arguments: for he had those who would suggest a wealth of such arguments to him, authors zealous for this peace, the archdeacon Meliteniotes, the protapostolarius George the Cypriot, and a third—though less ardently, but rather for the sake of appearances and peripherally embracing such a matter—the rhetor of the church, Holobolos. He therefore brought forth from the storehouse of ^B their memories examples of ancient history, especially that of the emperor John Ducas and the prelates who were then present together with the patriarch Manuel; how they had consented and promised, even sending bishops who would agree to these things, that they would communicate with the Latins in the holy liturgy and would make mention of the Pope within it, if only he would abstain from aiding those Latins who held the city. To confirm this matter, the code of the Church, in which these things were written down, was brought into the center. Concerning this deed, the emperor discoursed, comparing the state of affairs that then existed with the present. He also produced the judgments of the prelates of that time, written down and fortified by their own hands, and contended that they ought to be considered as belonging to the very men who were now in that same position, ordering them ^C to reflect that those Fathers had entirely abstained from arguing against the Latins on grounds of impiety or heresy because of the addition attempted in the Creed; for they sought only that this should be removed from the Creed, indulging them so that in other respects it might be held and read just as the other texts were read. He then recalled, distinctly detailing, the greatest mysteries in which the Greeks would not hesitate or even in the least delay to communicate with the Latins, and indeed made it appear that their transition [from Greek] to our rites was something similar to if a person were to exchange one language for another, preferring to use the Latin tongue after having first spoken in Greek, or vice-versa. Moreover, what do the canons have against the utterance of the name of the Pope being pronounced publicly in church? Especially since the custom has prevailed, and necessity has led those who ^D are not popes to share in this kind of communion when many are present in the church assembly, the priest celebrating and granting the grace of the Trinity to all in common. Furthermore, to call him a brother and the first has less offense, as the rich man in the flame called Abraham father, being separated from him by as much character as the great chasm then placed between them demonstrated. If, however, we give an appeal, there is surely a danger that one might sail across so vast and hostile a sea [in order to seek it]? While the emperor was discoursing on these and similar things, the patriarch, who was present, when he had for some time waited in vain for the chartophylax, in whom he trusted as one both learned and prepared with an argument, to refute what had been said for the Latins by example, realizing that the emperor, demonstrating his contrary sense and purpose openly, was holding him back by shame for fear that he might dare to do what he had promised,

^A and bringing the evidence to the chartophylax, that he might immediately refute him by the violence he had exerted, and involuntarily imposed upon him an anathema while he stood there, by which he was forced to say what he felt in his own judgment regarding the Italians. Caught between two fires—on one side by the fear of the emperor, and on the other by the reverence for the anathema—he was left in the middle, and he confessed his distress, stating that he was hanging between the fear of both and that the things of the spirit were to be preferred to those of the body. Then, making a distinction, he said: "Some exist and are called heretics; others are neither nor are called such; others are called such but are not; and others, conversely, are such, but are not called such. In this last group the Italians must be placed, for while they are not called heretics, they are in fact guilty of heresy." This emboldened the patriarch all the more, but to the emperor it seemed dreadful ^B and heavy. He dissolved the hasty assembly immediately, being unable to bear these words; for the hunt was now stirred up against the emperor, and he had nothing to say in response, as the necessity itself seemed to make him speak the truth. But those around the archdeacon and the protopostolarius, like wasps stirred up on the road, fiercely opposed Veccus, attacking him as one who judged wrongly, even though he was a learned man and seemed to be wiser than most.

13. How John Chumnos accused the chartophylax Veccus.

In this manner that day passed, and the chartophylax became objectionable to the emperor, who was seeking pretexts to harm him. By an excess of anger, he set up John Chumnos as an accuser, claiming he had conducted his embassy poorly. Chumnos brought this charge to the synod. Against this, Veccus argued by a preliminary objection of falsehood, contending that the accusation itself should be rejected as late and untimely, adding that it was sufficiently apparent that this accusation was not Chumnos’s, but the emperor’s; for as for himself, he did not have enough strength or resources to litigate against his master. He spoke thus before the synod, persisting in the very spot where he had previously sat, with Chumnos, who was accusing him, standing in the middle. Senators and magistrates were present at the synod by order of the emperor—the great logothete ^C Acropolita, the logothete of the domestic affairs, the Iatropoulos, and certain others—sitting together with the Fathers. These men labored intensely on behalf of the emperor so that the charge might be accepted and a trial held. However, the bishops refused, saying it was unlawful for a cleric to be judged by any but the patriarch himself. The patriarch, for his part, openly refused to allow it; for having once found an assistant for what he desired, he had determined to protect him with all his might and contention. This knot, having been thrown into the business, kept both the Fathers of the synod and the magistrates I mentioned in ignorance of what to do. Until at last, the great logothete stood up and, exiting the synod, said: "The chartophylax drags the synod by the nose wherever he wishes; hence, since it is not sufficiently clear to us what ought to be done, seek out this ^D

^A great logothete, who at that time was criticizing the synod." Or he departs immediately to the one summoning him, and before appearing, as if being led by the nose by the chartophylax, the synod—and what is to be done I do not know. Rebuffed in this way, they returned to the emperor and reported what had happened. However, the chartophylax, shrinking from his own personal involvement, so as not to appear to be offending the emperor, went away and begged him not to be angry at one who was innocent. For he was ready, he said, both to lay down his office and to surrender all the income he derived from it. He was, he said, of the body of the clergy; nevertheless, of whatever status he might be, he did not refuse the emperor’s favor, since he esteemed it highly and desired it for his own sake for the sake of the Church, so that he might not appear to be dividing the Church. If, however, the sovereign wished to send him into exile, he was ready even to undergo that evil. The emperor, hearing these things and considering the shame of his anger to be a disgrace to himself if it were revealed, concealed it under a feigned appearance of benevolence toward Veccus and sent the man home without a word. But he prepared himself for exile, and having deposited his personal belongings in the storehouse of the church, except for the meager clothing he had provided for his immediate use, he entrusted himself and his companions to the great church as a sanctuary. When the emperor discovered this, seeing that he could no longer accomplish what he was planning because of the sanctity of the place to which Veccus had fled, he sent royal letters sealed in red, calling him to himself with all honor. He did not refuse, but immediately exited and went straight to the one summoning him. But before he was admitted, he was seized and shut up in the prison of the Anemas tower, and handed over to the Celtic soldiers to be guarded. And he was in these circumstances. ^B

14. Regarding the Tome which the emperor sent to the Church.

The emperor, having availed himself of the learned men around him, of whom the first and most powerful were the previously mentioned archdeacon and the protopostolarius, composed a Tome, and from various histories and quotations presented the situation regarding the Latins as blameless. And having sent it to the patriarch by the hand of Arsenius, son of Acapnius—a man grave and honorable, but one who, regarding these controversies, limped on both legs, as they say—he signaled that he should accept this Tome and draft a common rebuttal to these things, but only from histories and scriptural quotations. "For to speak from the belly is otherwise weak and empty; but neither will I myself accept it." He spoke thus, trusting that no one would be able to strip away what was written; for he held the chartophylax in an unguarded state—in whom he had expected everything to be shaken, and whom he thought he would defeat by arguments. But the patriarch, after deliberating with the synod concerning the Tome, thought to assemble those whom he believed to be of his own faction. They were...

the very flower and select members of the Church. ^A Ternicicopolus Joannicius and his followers were also present, who though they had openly separated themselves from the patriarch, yet for the sake of common utility, they thought it best to put aside for a time those minute offenses of mind and the causes of their discord. With them was present the emperor’s own sister, Eulogia, and everything that was held in high regard for distinction and excellence among the monks and the learned of other orders. Their mind was one, and a zeal was put forth, conspiring toward this: that a written response be prepared contrary to the volume sent by the emperor. To this end, it seemed opportune to read aloud the imperial scripture before all who were present; and that whatever point was heard from it, each person should immediately bring forward whatever might occur to him as useful to allege to the contrary. The task of collecting all these things and organizing the diverse material into one was undertaken by Iasites Job, who was chosen for this; ^B he also had other assistants and participants in his labor, primarily the author of this history. All of them, with diligent care in arranging and placing in order the sentiments of the various contributors, finished the volume in a short time. They read it aloud before the common assembly, with each person suggesting if anything should be changed or tempered, while all were intent especially on this: that nothing should be left in it that was stinging or harsh, by which the emperor might be offended. Finally, when the work had been polished as much as was deemed necessary, they sent it to the emperor by the same Arsenius. Upon receiving it and reading it attentively, he acknowledged that he was much deceived in the opinion by which he had thought the matter would be finished immediately by the sending of his composition. Yet he hid this very present feeling of his mind, thinking that the necessity of being ashamed, if it were discovered, should be thus prevented. He deferred the public reading of the presented writing with a certain contempt, as he wished it to appear; but the true cause of his delay was the fear of conviction, veiled under the pretext of an arrogant disdain. ^C

15. *How Veccus, detained in prison, was nonetheless solicited and drawn into [their] party.*

Repulsed in this success of his plans, the emperor and those who thought with him resolved that they must proceed by another way, by testing Veccus himself within the prison. For observing that a man of the sort that Veccus was—wise and learned—could not be overcome more certainly by any other engine than by arguments and testimonies drawn from ecclesiastical erudition, they offered to him, while he was detained in custody, selected sentiments from the sacred books themselves which favored the cause of the Latins. Taking these into his hands and reading them attentively, he was gradually inclined toward peace, supported therein by two gifts: a certain candor of mind free from deceit, and an innate love of truth. By the former, he attained that, as he approached the investigation of what was proposed simply and without prejudice or suspicion of fraud, he was easily led by the simulation of truth, suffering the same thing that those who are moderately doubting are accustomed to do, who, by a light moment, incline toward the other side, and when they see the reasons for doubting—by which they were previously held in suspense—even slightly diminished, they immediately consider they have found suitable causes for laying aside their doubt, and they believe they hold the matter itself and that the business, previously obscure, is now clear to them. But by that other sincere zeal for professing the truth, he was prevented from affirming what was not; since he did not yet feel all the darkness wiped away from himself, he truly could not endure to feign that what had only begun to appear to him and to flatter him with its first appearance was clearly perceived by him: but, hindered by no evil shame, he ingenuously confessed that he did not yet see most clearly into the matter.

The reason for this, he stated, was that being occupied with Hellenic studies, he had not been able to exercise himself in the divine writings. He did wish, however, to see the books and read them more diligently, so that he might apply his mind to the Scriptures, and thus either be persuaded and hold the courage of his convictions and stand firmly in whatever direction he might incline, or, if he were not persuaded, to be able to set forth the manifest reasons why he would not be persuaded. The emperor agreed to these words, and having brought the books out of confinement, he gave them to him to read at his leisure. The patriarch, however, remained concerned about each of the replies to the emperor, being now more heavily pressed and not allowed to find rest.

15 How the patriarch, exercising his judgment in writing and not ^A having accomplished the undertaking, did not accept the peace.

Seeing this, the monk Job Iasites, fearing for the patriarch's judgment, lest he might yield and give up his opposition, devised a certain scheme to strengthen the patriarch's mind. For he suggested that he should write and send a pastoral letter to all the faithful subjects under his care, in which he would admonish them as to what ought to be held in these matters, and to persuade them more effectively as to the constancy of what was recommended, he would publicly interpose an oath that he would never deviate from the rigor of the judgment once fixed, or descend to that point, however much he might be dragged by anyone, to receive into communion those whom he had hitherto considered rightly severed from the Church by law. Acquiescing to these suggestions of Job, the patriarch committed to him the business of forming a circular letter to this effect. When this was immediately composed, before being sent out, it seemed best to the patriarch to take an experiment of the judgment of the bishops concerning these matters, so that he might perceive therefrom whether they appeared so minded that one could rightly trust that they would remain inflexibly persistent in the refusal to the very ^B end. Therefore, when they were gathered, the judgment of the patriarch, written as I said by the monk Job, was read. And they were immediately asked individually whether they themselves were of the same mind, and whether they had firmly decided to persevere therein. All immediately assented, and the letter, confirmed by the private subscriptions of all except for a few who were more farsighted, was sent in every direction. Once this was published, and the patriarch was bound by an indissoluble tie so that he could not relax himself into any change regarding these matters, since it was no longer open to him to retreat from a judgment declared by such public profession—bound, that is, by the religion of an oath—he indeed showed openly that he would deny the emperor what he sought and would never consent to the concord of the Churches which was being treated. Wherefore, the emperor, despairing of the assent of the patriarch on account of the inescapable obstacle of the oath, was troubled in mind, foreseeing that the outcome of the business would be difficult from that point. For the emperor desired both things equally: that the concord be initiated and that the patriarch consent to it. Nevertheless, repulsed from that course, he applied himself more vehemently to urging the bishops. In the meantime, Beccos also, having spent time with the books, and ^C seeing from them much assistance for the action, ^D so that nothing was available for him to draw them to [a] more favorable [disposition], so that even those who were occupied might accept the first [proposals]. Being persuaded by these words, the hierarch leaves it to him to set out the judgment, and he set it out as quickly as possible. But before it was sent, it seemed good to test the high priests, so that he might learn if they would hold out to the end. Therefore, when they were gathered, the judgment of the patriarch was read, and they were asked whether they themselves also had the capacity to remain in accordance with it. And they confessed at once, and each confirmed and secured the judgment with his own private signature, except for the more prudent ones. When, therefore, the judgment was sent, and the patriarch was in inescapable straits so as not to change anything even if it happened (for he was caught by the oaths), he was manifest also to the emperor, asserting that he would not perform [the union] nor complete the undertaking. But the emperor, having despaired of his concurrence from this point (for oaths are terrible to hinder), considered what had occurred to be in a difficult situation (for it was equally desirable to him that the action proceed to an end with the patriarch), nevertheless, being repelled by him, he approached the archpriests more weightily.

^B When Veccus had read the books, and had observed in them many things which demonstrated that the agreement of the Churches was much more possible than he had thought—inasmuch as it was evident that the sum of the Latin fault consisted only in the addition of one word to the Symbol, and as for the dogma itself, there existed the testimony of the holy Cyril, which reconciled us and them on this point, that namely in which that holy doctor says the Holy Spirit substantially exists from the two, that is, from the Father through the Son—the whole controversy was reduced to a little preposition, as both sides equally acknowledged the fellowship of the Son with the Father in the procession. The only difference was that the Latins said the Spirit proceeds *from the Son*, and the Greeks *through the Son*; this was a small difference of no moment, which in no way hindered the Churches from appearing to agree on the sum of the dogma. ^C These things, I say, and many such considerations having been weighed, Veccus also found another primary testimony to this matter: that of St. Maximus in his letter to Rufinus, where, after many things, he writes thus: "From which they did not show that they call the Only-Begotten the principle of the Spirit, but intended to signify that he proceeds through him, and by that reasoning established the cohesion of an inseparable substance." He was also persuaded by the authority of the great Athanasius, who explicitly affirms that it is impossible for the Spirit to be recognized in the order of the Trinity, unless he exists from God through the Son, not continuously, but efficiently, as they say. By these and similar things, Veccus, having been strengthened, and with every scruple of conscience now removed, inclined entirely toward peace. This matter was a great incitement to the emperor to urge the undertaking. Therefore, he now more confidently alleged those fears familiar to him—namely, of the wars, if an agreement were not entered into, and of the blood that would be shed—adding that there was no cause to omit so necessary a precaution, when that which was sought to avert such great evils was, in the judgment of the leading theologians, something secure and innocuous, and remote from all danger of error or fault. Wherefore, he was persistent in pressing the bishops and urging them with all effort to complete the business, while those who had arrived from the Roman pontiff as legates were awaiting the return of the others, in the hope of finally obtaining what they requested.

17. Regarding the emperor’s legates, and the departure of the patriarch.

This was then the state of the pending business. At this juncture of affairs, it seemed now mature and likewise necessary to send mutual legates to the Pope, so that, in this way, the feared expedition of the Latins—to attack the Greeks as schismatics, under the pretext—now removed—of Charles, whose legation was in Italy—might be the more securely suspended, for they recognized the Roman Church as the first church and professed obedience to it, and venerated her as their own mistress and mother. Therefore, those chosen as legates were: Germanus, who had been patriarch, and Theophanes, bishop of Nicaea, and besides these, from the senators, the Great Logothete Acropolita, the head of the vestiary Panaretus, and the great interpreter Berroeotes. ^D Two triremes were given them by the emperor: one boarded by those who were from the Church, the other used by the royal party, except for the Great Logothete. They carried with them many and precious sacred gifts: stoles, I say, and golden effigies, then incense compounded of various spices of great price. In addition to these, they also took the *endyten* of the Great Church, or altar cloth, of a rose color, embroidered with gold and inset with pearls. This the emperor, when he was released from the anathema, had consecrated to the divine temple, a gift worthy of such a person and of such

^A a ceremony. He had received it back to himself, intending that another should be fashioned of similar form, to be dedicated by him to the great temple of the princes of the apostles. Taking this opportunity, invited by the departure of the Roman legates, he handed it over to them, promising himself that he would abundantly compensate for whatever might seem lost to the Church by the subtraction of this gift that had long been made to it. And they, indeed, departed in this manner toward Italy.

But the emperor could not easily bear to be torn away from the patriarch; for he clung to him like a limpet to a rock, whether from a sense of the benefit—since he remembered that he had been absolved by him from the anathema—or from ancient custom and the trust born from that, of attaining his salvation through him. Wherefore, desiring to separate him in any way possible from the cause of the schism (for he had finally drawn other bishops over to his own view), he came to an agreement with him: that he should depart from the patriarchal palace and reside in the monastery of the Peribleptos, with his revenues preserved for him and his honor in the sacred commemoration kept as usual. If any matter should hinder the legates sent to Rome from accomplishing their business, he was to return to the patriarchal residence and resume the duties of his own dignity as before, and then receive the bishops into communion, bearing no ill will against them for having consented to peace with the Latins. But if the undertaking were carried through according to his desire, with him remaining steadfast in the rejection of the peace—since he did not consider it lawful for him to acquiesce because of his oath—then he would certainly withdraw from his honor, and yielding his place to another, would concede it to him for the Church. With these things agreed upon between them, the patriarch descended into the monastery of the Peribleptos and ^B took up his residence on the eleventh day of the month of Hecatombaion, being of the second indiction of the year 6782, enjoying there his annual revenues without diminution. Thus, the body of the Church was indeed in a certain state of tranquility, though not so those who were over it.

18. Concerning the emperor’s duress toward the clergy.

For the sovereign held them to be highly suspect, supposing that they would not easily concur, especially since they had not acquiesced to Veccos, who was frequently discussing with them and putting forward the testimonies of the holy Fathers by which he himself had been convinced; rather, they persisted in their own opinion, manifesting that they would not at all accept the matter if it should proceed. Hence, the sovereign was provoked and devised imputations to cast upon them: as if they were revolting against the subjection owed to him, and were upbraiding the bishops who approved of the peace, and cursing the emperor himself for having drawn them over to his own view. ^C Yet, before he pursued these things more hostiley, he thought it best to try them with flattering persuasions, to see if he could lead them over, once they were soothed. Having therefore summoned them and received them very honorably, he sat in their midst and recounted those things familiar to him and often alleged before, professing that he was moved to negotiate this peace for no other reason than the necessary precaution against the inevitably imminent, unless agreement were reached, of atrocious wars, and out of a pious parcimony for Roman blood, which otherwise was in present danger of being shed most inhumanly. Nor, furthermore, should they doubt that after this peace also, the Church would remain in its pristine state, without any change of greater moment. This, he asserted, was close to his heart; and they could be certain he would ignore nothing in his care for it. ^D Finally, he would confine this whole matter concerning [E] the Church of the Romans to three chapters only—

the primacy, the right of appeal, and the commemoration ^A of names. If anyone considers each of these carefully, it must appear that they will end in nothing. For when will the Pope, having traveled to Constantinople, come to take possession of this primacy and presidency of his? And whom, pray, would they imagine would bring a case to Rome, and—separated by the great interval of a vast sea—pursue a trial there, asserting the right of the Roman Pontiff to judge the appeal? Furthermore, what could possibly seem to those who judge wisely to be a deviation from the right path, if the Pope is commemorated in our primary cathedral church, and likewise in that great one of yours, while the Patriarch is officiating at the sacred rites? Are the ways in which the Fathers, for the sake of what was expedient, have used acts of economy unknown to you? Even God himself becoming man and enduring the cross and accepting death—things otherwise unbecoming for God, if it were not for the body he assumed—occurred, yet this took place by the highest economy, and by those things which were unbecoming for the God who became flesh, the whole world has been saved. Thus, the economy is a marvelous thing. And as for us, if we should evade the impending danger by way of economy, not only will this not be reckoned as a sin, but it will be commended by those who are best skilled in knowledge. You, however—as I hear—are turning yourselves even against the bishops who have given their consent to this, and you are attempting to rend the Church, and, as has been reported, you are calling down curses upon us. These things, then, the time ^B is at hand to settle and fully explain. It is neither seemly for us to hear such things, nor safe for you to say them and to strike fear into many, as if we will not stand firm on these matters, but will allow ourselves to be forced to change our customs and confess as they say. There is time to clarify these things, and we shall clarify them. But for now, we need counsel from you, and let each man say what seems good to him, only let him not lean upon his own will, pleasing himself entirely, but rather, since he is a churchman, let him speak in a churchly manner. For that which presses upon us is one thing: to flee the necessary danger if we were to do these things. As for the extent of this, let each man, after reflecting within himself, proffer his opinion in such a way that, without it, these things could neither be set in motion by us, nor would it be of any benefit for you to consider the matter of them at all.” By addressing the leaders of the Church with these and other similar arguments, ^C the emperor swayed them; they considered it both unseemly for them to curse the emperor and, in other respects, dangerous; and they altogether denied it, showing themselves ready to undergo whatever punishments, if they were truly found guilty of it. But as for being at variance with the bishops, they asserted that they were not among those who were failing in their duty; for they said that those who are divided in their actions naturally hold contrary views. Moreover, they had conducted this disagreement without malice toward their adversaries, and were concerned ^D that the matter be clearly understood. For it is neither decorous for us to hear such things, nor safe for you to speak them, and to strike fear into the people, as if we were intending to proceed in this business of peace further than we have proposed, and that we have it in mind to change our customs and rites to match those of the Latins and to profess the same thing in all respects. The time is now, as I said, to explore these things clearly; and we shall make it our endeavor that they be understood completely. For the present, we are in need of your counsel; wherefore let each one say what shall seem good to him. Only let him not indulge too much in his own feelings, pleasing himself alone, but since he is a churchman, let him speak as a churchman; for the one thing that urges us is to escape the danger, which is inevitable if we do not do these things. But as for how great that danger is, let each one, reflecting with himself, judge prudently first, and thus let him say what he deems necessary to be done. Certainly, were it not for that danger, we would not be initiating these things. But it would be useless for any of you to take up a judgment about this whole matter as if it were still an open question. When the emperor had pacified the leading men in the Church with these or similar words, they first of all took pains to clear themselves of the crime of which they were accused: namely, that they had spoken evil of the prince; for they considered this to be highly unbecoming to them, and no less dangerous from other quarters. Wherefore they immediately denied it, and offered themselves as ready to endure any punishments, if they could be truly convicted of it. But they confessed that they had disagreed with the bishops who had embraced the contrary sentiment: this, they said, was not inconvenient, since it was very logical that the views and words of those whose deeds were contrary should also be contrary. As for the rest, they had engaged in this disagreement without cursing their opponents, and...

they were not ^A complaining that they blamed their own conformity. For everyone is master of his own opinion, and what may not seem right to someone today, he might perhaps approve and love tomorrow, not because he is fickle or veering by mere chance, but because he is a slave to logical reasons; and as those reasons shift, he acts in accordance with what he deems beneficial. And we believe that this does not go against one’s conscience. ^B But as for our being asked about the matters set before us, first of all, since we have no authority to deliberate on these things according to the canons—being subject to a patriarch, whom we are bound to follow—what should we say? Nevertheless, let each one be asked privately on his own, and perhaps, with your Majesty not imposing your will upon the proposed matter, there will be no fear in stating one's views.

At that time, therefore, when they were being questioned, one man rejected all three points; for he argued that the Church had never made use of one head alone, and that they ought to keep and pass down to those who will be born later what they themselves had received from their predecessors. "And if danger is being brandished," he said, "it is not our duty to be anxious, except to pray; but it is solely for the ruler not to relax in any of the matters that concern his care."

As for the first—giving only the primacy and the right of appeal—they granted it as if they were the only ones capable of putting on a show, keeping the appearance and the name, but without anything actually taking place. But as for the commemoration of the Pope, who was seen as differing on the Symbol of Faith—even regarding the most forbidden things—that was a different matter.

Xiphilinus, who was Great Oikonomos at that time, trusting in his old age and his familiarity with the Emperor, stood and pleaded, and soon even fell to his feet, clasping the Emperor’s knees, and entreated him with these words: "See again and again, my Lord, lest in your anxiety to avert external war from us, you entangle us in a more difficult internal one, and thereby destroy both kinds of peace—the ecclesiastical and the civil. For even if we should agree to this peace, not all of them will remain at peace."

19. How the clergy, being slandered as ill-disposed, were harassed.

^C [P. 265] In these matters the day was finished. Having waited for a few days, the Emperor, having learned that the affairs of the Church were in a storm, and that the supposedly unyielding ones were not accepting what was being imposed upon them, first drew up a *Tomos*—the purpose of which was to show favor toward the Emperor—and ordered them to sign it. ^D

They too signed it readily, addressing these words of God to Abraham: “Those who bless you shall be blessed, and those who curse you shall be under a curse.” Afterward, he sent his own men to search the house of each one, investigating who was guilty and who was not. And the excuse was that, since he himself had taken the city, all the houses in it had passed into his own legal possession; and that, while he was willing to grant free use of these to those who were loyal to him, he would not extend this favor to those who resisted him in any way, but rather would exercise his right to demand the rental value for the duration of the preceding years from those who lived in them. Consequently, they were immediately dunned for the money owed for the use of the houses over many years past, and its immediate payment was exacted, and this most harshly, by the immediate seizure of pledges and the carrying off of household goods for this purpose. Thus, whatever ornamentation or precious items the citizens had in their houses was swept up. Ships were also being prepared to deport those who already seemed sufficiently convicted and condemned for his crimes to various places of exile. And now they were no longer lingering in threats or the mere expectation of evils, but the miserable men were being dragged off to the present experience of these sufferings; some were being restricted to Lemnos, others to Skyros, others to Kea, and others finally to the city of Nicaea. Others again were being banished from the city—some involuntarily, others because they were exiled by command, and others taking precautions against necessity of their own accord; for some, while they were still deliberating, exile had been set as far as Selymbria and ^A Rhaedestos, and for some, as far as the port that is by the Pharos; many of whom, drawn by misfortune to assent and professing that they acquiesced to the peace, returned home by right of postliminium.

20. Narration of the atrocious punishment inflicted upon the rhetor, and the historian's lamentation

To these, let there be added the narrative concerning the rhetor—a story terrible to behold, and even more terrible to suffer, though it did not happen at this time, but earlier. We link these severe matters to the severe events to illustrate the violence of that time. ^B Alas, alas for us hapless ones! That, having suffered so much, we are unfairly judged—I would say, even judged—by those who came later, who were not even seen, nor did they speak, nor suffer, but remained hidden in obscurity and for that very reason were not deemed worthy of any concern at all, and so they neither cared nor deigned to think about those who were instigating these things. By these, I say, we are judged; and what do I say "judged"? We are even now judged by them. I address you, O ecclesiastics! Where did you stand, or where did you advance, or what beneficial thing did you display for the common good? But this is not your fault. Those who accepted these things are to be blamed; although there is something else greater for which we are angry with them. For not content with having tolerated or approved what others were doing, they themselves came to participate in the injury; we ourselves have experienced them attacking us as enemies, making their own help available to our oppressors. But enough of these complaints. Let us rather do what we intended: for we have chosen this time to relate a new and unexpected matter. It was the day of an ecclesiastical assembly in the sacred palace. All the priests and monks who were then in the city had been gathered into that holy assembly. The patriarch was present with the entire synod. The subject of the deliberation

^A was the peace of the Churches, which had been the business proposed. When all were now seated, and the emperor had honored with a seat those two men whom he used as his trusted assistants in that affair—the archdeacon Meliteniota and the protoapostolarius Cyprio—the rhetor Holobolus stood waiting for the emperor to bid him also to take a seat. But when he had waited a long time in vain, he went out and sat down nearby.

When the discussion had begun, the rhetor was called for, as his assistance seemed likely to be useful for the business at hand. He was summoned and stood by, but with a heart implacable toward the emperor, deeply indignant that he had been slighted and that his claim to a seat had been completely ignored. Therefore, when first questioned, he remained silent beyond expectation. But when the emperor pressed him, confident that he would speak in accordance with his own opinion as before, he, not hiding that he regretted his previous actions and now showing himself to be following a course of action contrary to the emperor, freely declared that the business which was being proposed did not seem to him at all useful. Struck by this most unexpected statement, the emperor flared up and rebuked the man with great shouts, vociferously charging that this was not the first time he had been hostile to him, but that he had long been ambiguous and wavering in contrary directions, and that he was driven into opposition for no other reason than a malevolent desire to thwart him, whom he hated with the utmost bitterness. He said that he bore the marks of that malignity of his upon his nose, which had been cut off some time ago as a punishment for his defiance of the emperor. Hearing this, the rhetor, carried away by ill-considered anger—which his inability to control his ambition, combined with the scorn he felt, pushed beyond measure—very freely confessed the true cause of that punishment for which he was now being reproached. He said clearly that he had been mutilated in his nose because he had shown the loyalty and goodwill due to the child John, the rightful emperor.

When he had said this, those who were around the emperor, rushing up from various sides—thinking thereby to gratify him—sought to tear the man to pieces as if they would rend him asunder. But the emperor, under a pretense of moderation, restrained them, not condoning the penalty but deferring it to another time, as appeared later. Fearing the emperor’s anger, the rhetor fled to the church, hoping to use the sacred asylum for his safety. But the emperor, having extracted him from there with smooth inducements, persuaded him to betake himself, as if for the sake of his own peace of mind, to the monastery of Hyacinth, a convenient stopping place; having done this, under the guise of providing for him humanely, he relegated him to Nicaea, where that monastery was situated.

Not a year had yet passed when, amid these, our more ardently stirred controversies regarding the concord of the Churches, the emperor, having learned through certain messengers that Holobolus had openly recoiled from the judgment he had previously shown regarding the wisdom of that peace, taking it very ill, easily ^B lent his ears to those who brought calumnious charges, and to certain indignities attributed to Holobolus, alien to such a man. Wherefore, thinking it a convenient opportunity at once to take vengeance on the man he hated and to bring us down from the opinion we had of his authority as a man of excellence and his distinguished learning, he ordered him to be brought to the city in chains. Here, first, the emperor ordered him to be cruelly and inhumanely beaten with scourges, and then he conducted him in a procession of this new spectacle through the faces of the citizens. With a long rope pulling them by their necks, first was Holobolus, in the second place Jasites Melias, then others in a continuous series of men filling the number of ten, and attached was an eleventh, a woman, the niece of the same Holobolus, who was dragged forth as if she were a sorceress, and they were led in a foul triumph through the entire city and particularly around the church, ^C as he claimed, [to demonstrate] his loyalty and goodwill toward the child John and the emperor. And he [Holobolus] spoke, but those around the emperor, as if feigning goodwill to win favor, leapt up from here and there, urging to tear him apart. But the emperor, as if feigning philanthropy, prevented them, granting a time for vengeance, as appeared later.

The rhetor, then, suspecting the wrath of the ruler, took refuge in the church, and hoped to be saved by it. But he [the emperor], having taken him from there, confined him to Nicaea, sending him to the monastery of Hyacinth as if, forsooth, for his own benefit. The time was not yet finished when, as our affairs were then in motion, since he heard that he [Holobolus] also was dissenting from the things determined, having received him and charges not even in any way fitting to him, thinking it a time to punish him from another cause, and to strike fear into us, being the one who had emboldened him, he sends and has him brought under bonds, and first he orders him to be whipped severely and inhumanely, ^D and then he brings about that new triumph of his. For having ordered him to be bound by a long rope about their necks, him first and Jasites Melias second, and others in succession, until the number of men reached ten, and lastly his niece for the alleged proof of sorcery, those [involved]...

^A who were the first two, since they obstinately denied the charges brought against them and sufficiently proven, were led forth bound in sheep's entrails, still filled with dung, and burdened with them; and in a singular act of dishonor to Holobolos, he was ordered to be beaten continuously along the entire way upon his mouth with the livers of the same sheep, recently extracted from the belly, and thus he was paraded in triumph around the church throughout the entire city, being dishonored there all the more as a demonstration of fear and threat to the clergy.

Now these things were done on the sixth of the month of Elaphebolion of the coming year, the patriarch Arsenios having died on the island six days before these events took place, being the thirtieth of the month of Gamelion. The clergy, seeing the danger hanging over them, besought the ruler to stay his anger and allow them to remain in peace until the envoys returned from Rome; but they did not persuade him, though they entreated him much, but were directly judged as guilty of lèse-majesté against the emperor, unless they should fulfill the requirements of the signature. As ^B some were fleeing in fear of being subjected to even more, the emperor immediately gives the order, and a document is set forth, a chrysobull, full of the most dreadful curses, and also full of the most grievous oaths, [affirming] that he would not force them further, nor perform any action, nor attempt anything, nor even ^C bring to mind [the idea of] adding even a single tittle or iota to the creed, but would be satisfied only with the consent of all to the three chapters of the primacy, of appeal, and of commemoration, and that these, too, were being conceded only in name, for the sake of public peace and security. If they did not comply, they should be certain that the most pernicious and utterly destructive things would soon come upon them from him. Having inculcated and insisted upon these threats as vehemently as possible in that diploma, which was written, subscribed, and secured with a golden bull, he sends it to the Church by the first secretary, Michael of Neocaesarea. Persuaded and made secure by this, the majority subscribed; yet because some even then refused to do so, they were sent into exile, but after some time they repented, gave their consent, were recalled, and joined to the Church, with no one from the clergy remaining who did not consent to the peace of the churches according to the will of the emperor.

21. How the emperor's envoys suffered at sea.

^D [P. 269] But we must also speak of the envoys. For they, having set sail at an improper time (for they embarked on their ships and sailed at the beginning of the month of Kronios), arrived at the tip of Malea—which it is customary to call "wood-eater" [Lignivorus] because of the frequent shipwrecks there—in the final decade of that month. There, on the fifth day of the Great Week toward evening, they suffered a miserable shipwreck. For suddenly the sea swelled, and a powerful wind from the Hellespont, falling upon them, covered both land and sea with pitch-black clouds. It was not yet night, for the sun had not yet entirely set; but another night, no less dark than the natural one, was spreading far and wide, customarily induced by the shadow of the earth's globe, yet even more dismal in that no light of the moon or stars tempered it

^A The instability and confusion of the air increased the sea’s ferocity, and a dire danger gripped those sailing. First, the swell tore the ships apart from one another, and those within them could not know where either was going; for they surrendered to the wave that was flooding in fiercely, wherever it might dash and carry them in its wild state. Whence also those with Germanus and the Great Logothete thrust the trireme out toward the open sea, having trusted in the sea more wisely than the others. For they, having lost heart because of the danger, and hoping to be saved if they might encounter a harbor while near the dry land, were wary of the earth, fearing the danger from it, yet on the other hand, they did not trust the sea either. Whence, as the helmsman little by little was overcome by the force of the waves, they struck the shores unseen, and thus they were swallowed up, bereft of oars, sinking those royal gifts and the precious altar-vestment of the Great Church along with the men—only one man was saved, who became the messenger of the calamity. And so, the party with the commanders was reported to have perished; but those around the churchmen and the Great Logothete, ^B fighting the sea, and having often come near to foundering, with difficulty and with great force arrived at Methone as the day dawned, having escaped the imminent danger against all hope. Having rested there for several days, in order to learn if the other trireme might have fared through the surge somewhere, they soon received the bitter news. These men, being the only ones left, since there was no way to turn back, set their course forward and sailed to Rome. And after a few days, reaching the Pope, they fulfilled the embassy, the Pope graciously receiving the envoys, even to the point of honoring them with tiaras, miters, and rings, according to the custom held there for bishops. Having spent the spring and summer there, and being treated with the customary kindness by the Pope, they arranged the matters of the embassy. And at the end of autumn, they reached the City together with the imperial envoys.

21. How the Pope was commemorated after the patriarch had ceased his functions.

22. It was thus, from that point on, that the patriarch was fully to cease his functions according to the agreements, and the Pope was to be commemorated, and thus thereafter the one in line to be patriarch was to be elected and installed. ^C The instability and confusion of the wind-tossed air and the conflict of the winds colliding against each other with a horrible roar increased the tumult, and a very grave danger threatened those sailing. At first, the force of the storm tore them apart, driving the two triremes so far from one another that the crew of neither ship knew what had happened to their companions, or where the force of the sky and the salt waves was driving the other ship. They only realized this much equally: that they were yielding to the necessary and inescapable force of the surging sea, not knowing with what great impetuosity they were being driven. In this uncertainty, however, the pilots of the trireme in which Germanus with his colleagues and the Great Logothete were being carried, decided more wisely, pushing the ship into the deep and taking the wind that was driving them away from the land with full sails, judging rightly that in such a time one should fear the shore more than the open sea. In this, the judgment of the others failed—fools, through cowardice, avoiding the open sea and seeking the proximity of land as if a hope of safety were shown from there, by easily finding a harbor if they coasted along the shore. But although they meanwhile took sufficient care, as it seemed to them, to avoid hitting the projecting shores by holding the ship so that it would not be moved closer to the land by the swell, yet in the end, overcome by their limited skill and all their efforts, they were struck by the very powerful impulse of waves rushing toward the shore, drove the ship into the bank, and were submerged and perished with it, one excepted, who swam as a messenger of the calamity, from whom that sad event transpired as it did. In this shipwreck, besides the men, the sea swallowed the royal gifts ^D of which we spoke, and among them the notable and precious endytes, or altar-pallium, of the Great Church. But the bishops, with the Great Logothete, after struggling for the whole night against the surge and the sea with all the industry of sailors, and often brought to the extreme crisis of foundering, with difficulty and great force reached Methone as dawn approached, having escaped the present danger past all hope. There they rested for some days, expecting a sign as to what had happened to their companions, if by any chance the storm had likewise brought the companion trireme safe to land. But not long after, the sad news of that shipwreck struck them. From this, understanding that they were now alone and that there was no need to await their colleagues any longer, nor any reason to return with the mission unaccomplished, they set sail for Rome, and arriving in a few days, they performed their embassy to the Pope, who received them very humanely, so much so that he honored them with tiaras, miters, and rings—the insignia with which it is customary to decorate bishops there. Therefore, having spent the spring and the following summer there, treated by the Pope with all tokens of benevolence, they transacted what they had in their mandate. Then, in late autumn, they brought back to Constantinople the envoys joined to them by the Pope.

22. That the Pope was commemorated in the holy silento of the deposed patriarch.

From this arrival of the envoys reporting that peace had been made, two things followed, as established before: the removal of the patriarch, and the public commemoration of the Pope in the sacred liturgy; and they were even openly called to the election of a successor to the patriarchate, those who have the right of suffrage in this matter. And as regards the first of these...

it was arduous to force the patriarch to retire, since he did not ^A of his own accord resign his office.

Since, however, it was not possible to have him resign, they brought forward witnesses of his words to the emperor—these were the people around the Dikaiophylax Scutariotes—to the effect that the patriarch had supposedly promised a voluntary withdrawal if the project were to succeed. The bishops judged this claim to be a complete resignation, and furthermore, they judged his oath to be a plain obstacle. For to swear, on the one hand, not to accept the transaction, and on the other hand, to promise to withdraw once it should have come to pass, was a clear indication of his own resignation as the matter proceeded; for why else would there be, in church affairs, this vacating of the office for the sake of which he was setting oaths not to accept it, and also making promises to withdraw immediately? For these reasons, they condemned him to idleness, and on the ninth day of the month of Hecatombaion, his commemoration ceased, and he moved from the Peribleptos to the Laura located by the Anaplus.

On the sixteenth day of the same month, with Nicholas of Chalcedon officiating at the palace, the epistle—as they call it, or rather the reading from the book of Acts—was read in two languages while the messengers were present there with the emperor (for the feast of Peter, the chief of the apostles, was being celebrated, which the Church celebrates for the Placing of the sacred chains); and likewise the divine Gospel was read both in Greek and in Latin. And thus, in its proper place, the Pope was also commemorated by the deacon. The one who was commemorated as the supreme high priest of the apostolic Church and ecumenical pope was Gregory.

23. Concerning the schism of the Church in general.

From this point on, the affairs of the Church were in toil, and men were separated from one another; and one person would communicate with another in the divine mysteries, while others, saying, "Do not touch, do not handle," were even being particular about their cups and greetings. A greater schism arose, and he who had been satisfied with someone yesterday was turning away from him today. And just as if someone already having an internal ailment, upon the occurrence of another disease, has a twofold pain, and the former is increased by the assault of the one that has arisen, and these ^D again differ from one another so that what is for the cure of the one becomes an increase for the other, and they forbid the...

^A Church of God from standing firmly. For as the schism regarding Arsenius was already sufficiently underway, this second one also fell upon it, so that both being great infirmities, they were able to injure the great body of the Church and keep it from stability, while in themselves they were also utterly incompatible. Those of each side further disagreed among themselves, the ones being disposed in one way, the others in another, and some being disposed simply, while others more precisely, in the matter of the schism. Who could worthily lament the things of that time, where every one of the aforementioned transgressions seemed nothing, and even appeared tolerable in comparison to communion? For not even what had actually been done was reported to those outside, but they added more and worse things, being lavish with the basest slanders so as to entice even the person who was keeping entirely quiet. For the wickedness of those speaking and the simple-mindedness and rustic nature of those listening brought credit to what was being said. It ^B would be prudent, then, for the rustic man not to busy himself with many things, but to remain undisturbed and be saved. But if anyone were to move or excite him toward the pretext of safeguarding matters of faith, alas for the ^C amount of such folly! Yet whatever one might persuade that man—telling him to follow moderation in these matters, as one who knows nothing beyond his mattock, his spade, and a life free of involvement—many found such masses of people (for the account does not apply to everyone) to whom the discourse of the controversy had been presented, and who were concerned with history and writing, and who paid attention to ^D the arguments and knew how great the accusation was. And yet they did not use the facts less with moderation than with safety, but they made the schism greater than it needed to be. For it was perhaps necessary, as much as their difference with the Latins had been yesterday, to have held as much toward their own kin, especially since some, even at that time, when according to the need of the moment they were in communion with them based on what one might say, were separating from their own brothers as if they were most defiled. But as for them, matters were so, and the discourse has been carried beyond what is likely, as passion has moved it. For it was not my intention to accuse, but to narrate. Whence also the account presents merely the things done, and it will be for the person who wishes to judge.

21. Regarding the election of the Chartophylax Veccus to the patriarchate.

Then, therefore, when the patriarchal see was vacant, as has been said, through the deposition of Joseph, and by him who suc-

succeeded in the care of the Church, many men ^A seemed fit for this, both from among the monks and from the other clergy. But the vote slanted more toward the Prince, a man noble in lineage, descending from the Princes who ruled the Peloponnese from of old. From there, having gone away as a youth to practice a more perfect life, he shut himself up in one of the monasteries in the eastern reaches, on the Black Mountain, where, as we said, the ex-patriarch Germanus also practiced the monastic life. Thereafter, after some time, he approached the Emperor; and having been entrusted with the Pantokrator monastery, he presided there with the authority of archimandrite. Then, having performed an embassy to the eastern Tocharoi and having brought the Emperor’s illegitimate daughter Maria to be wed there to Apagas, he returned and lived in tranquility in a certain cell of the Hodegon monastery. Later, he was even installed as patriarch in the Church of Antioch. Even while he was there, living in quiet, the vote of the rest of the people leaned ^B more toward his being in charge of the Church in Constantinople. And this would have come to pass, had not some of the prelates been well-disposed toward Veccus, who was at once chartophylax and also great keeper of the holy vessels, and who enjoyed the greatest renown. When the matter of the votes was laid before the Emperor, he accepted Veccus, as being more worthy, both in other respects and because the man was learned and had the capacity to settle the schism through his long experience in ecclesiastical matters and his wisdom. Whence the prelates, having assembled in one place at the divine and great temple, voted for the one and same man both a first, second, and third time. And Veccus was proposed as patriarch on the twenty-sixth ^C of the month of Pyanepsion, on the feast of the holy Fathers of Nicaea; and on the second of Maimakterion, on the following Sunday, the illustrious day of the Spirit, he received the things of the Spirit through holy ordination and was perfected as high priest. The Emperor, however, having kept his mind occupied with him for a short while, so that he might be established in that spiritual office [P. 274], turned his attention for the rest to worldly concerns, knowing him to be a man sufficient to steer the affairs of the Church, with enough experience and profound wisdom in such matters. He showed himself ready to assist Veccus in whatever he might need, hoping in return to experience the same from him. He also gave him room for boldness to intercede for men the things that were fitting, and, indeed, to succeed, since he would not be petitioning beyond what was right. For he portioned himself in two ways, both for those in need of good treatment out of mercy, and for those who were being ^D treated in accordance with, or even in avoidance of, their crimes. And for those who were making those petitions before him—

and with squinting eyes, he sought ^A the emperor’s mercy, himself confessing the fault on behalf of the other, yet begging for the relaxation of the penalty imposed because of the fault. For others, he fought more boldly for the sovereign, as though they were being wronged, and sought their release. For he did not require an interpreter to learn how the matters of the petitioner stood, but hearing them himself, and only demanding that the one speaking truth, as the words would be made effective, he himself would distinguish the petitions according to the judgments for the emperor. And the petitions to the sovereign followed in accordance with these requests. For he used to arrange beforehand for what was useful regarding each petition, namely which should be put forth first and which should be placed after, and which one would be heard first and which would come later, so that it often happened that the document of the petition was rewritten, so that second or third or last, it might not stir up agitation—which the emperor might have suspected from such things—but first, or as one that would be easily fulfilled or would appear as a kind of pleasantry. For on this account, even the many grew bold, so that they might ^B speak instantly concerning their own rights, as if to speak a true opinion through him to the sovereign. Such was the man, most approved regarding the petitions of men, so that he might even anticipate—no inferior to any of his own—a proof of exact frankness and [of his] perception concerning justice. It was the height of summer, and the sovereign, at the most stationary time of the midday, after his post-prandial sleep, was sitting in the middle of the dining hall, catching the cool air. The patriarch also sat with him, having come from nearby in the country, at the time the emperor was awakening from sleep, to arrive easily. He was having an interview, therefore—and the interview was an earnest request on behalf of a certain man whom the priest perceived to have been wronged, but regarding whom the emperor, not being well-disposed, did not consent to grant safety. And the contention from both sides was enough to trouble even the one listening. For to them it did not cease as yet; but for the one who was speaking as if for a righteous cause, his zeal boiled over and he struck more frankly; ^C but in the emperor, the hatred toward the one being interceded for [was such] toward the one interceding…

[alt-version omitted]

…to be considered through a largition, the other, when the crimes of those in peril were brought forward, where either the effective service of a patron might be sought for the repelling of matters falsely objected, or the authority of an intercessor to obtain pardon for a crime. For he embraced the causes of these with such zeal as to act out through his very bodily posture those helpful and medicating Litae of the human race, which Homer describes as lame, wrinkled, and with squinting eyes, by such appearance catching the commiseration necessary for his protégés, himself indeed confessing the sin in their name, but begging the penalty be forgiven to those who repent. For another class of miserable people, those void of fault, he intervened more confidently, striving earnestly and urging the prince, that he might not delay in bestowing at least the aid owed by a certain right to those laboring under penury, being most swift to understand the necessities of the indigent, and making the labor or shame of explaining them more fully [of no account], with the quickness of a benign mind hearing and at once comprehending all things, without delay or the labor of a more diligent interpreter. And the charity of the patron abounded to abolish every suspicion of falsehood and to win full [hope] for his clients while they were telling their own distresses. He occurred even to the diffidence of the petitioners, and asserting that they themselves were asking for things that could be obtained, he added further to those acting timidly the spirits to dare, and suggested reasons apt for persuading, according to the kind and state of the case, to win the requested goal; and he ordered these in an arrangement adapted to the desired end, skillfully judging which of them ought to be proposed first, which put after, and which should be relegated to the last place. Whence it happened that it was often necessary that the petition be refashioned and rewritten, even when it had already been presented to the prince, sometimes even to the offense of the same prince, whom it stirred sometimes to stomach and to suspicions, because the petition was inculcated in him again and a third time regarding the one thing, so that he who had already received the first proposition with a placid and benign countenance and had raised hope, might wrinkle his brow at the so often repeated instances, fearing lest he be tricked by his own facility, especially as the confidence of the many increased, who, relying on the patriarch—the reconciliator of admission and the same [person] as the advocate of the supplication—exhausted the ears of the emperor by endless audiences to be sought and prolonged, and ^D [P. 275] clearly wearied the patience of the man of irritable nature and station, while among the people the grace of the patriarch accumulated, because he would see him, in order to consult for the wretched, not even avoid the expense of his own favor with the prince. So effusive and effective in the new patriarch was the zeal for aiding the needy. It will not be useless to relate some singular example of this, from which the prudent reader may take a specimen of the free confidence of this man and of his strong constancy in defending justice. It was the height of summer, and the emperor, while the sun was at its highest point under the middle of the day, was recently from his afternoon sleep catching the cool air in the middle of the dining hall. The patriarch, however, was besieging the doors, awaiting an audience, having set out from nearby for this purpose and sitting there, so that he might stand ready for the first admission by the emperor who had awakened. Having length been admitted, he began to plead the case of a man, as it was known to him, unjustly condemned. But the emperor, prejudiced by a certain hatred toward this man, did not grant the safety of the wretched man which the patriarch was seeking. Hence, with the prelate insisting on the appeal, while the prince persisted in the purpose of denying, a contest arose from both sides so inflamed that the listeners were disturbed, since the patriarch would not make an end of urging, nor the Augustus of refusing. At the extreme, the patriarch, conscious that he was fighting on behalf of justice, flared up into zeal, and stung the emperor with more free words. He, the hatred with which he burned against the accused, into too vehement, as he thought, his pa—

passion turned, and he replied more harshly himself. The dispute had almost escalated into a quarrel, as the one demanded and the other refused, the one entreating more effectively, and the other growing angry against him. ^B Finally, as the prelate attested that an injustice was being done to the man, and the prince showed that he cared nothing for it, and the prelate declared he would act even more forcefully if he were not heard, while the prince on the contrary showed that whatever he might do or say, he would gain nothing—not even then did the patriarch withdraw beaten, or endure the abandoning of his undertaking, but carried away by the heat of the zeal seething within him: "What then?" he said; "do you think it is right that bishops should be of no more account among you than cooks or grooms, whom it is necessary to obey you in all things and serve at your nod?" At the same time as he said this, he cast his pastoral staff, the symbol of patriarchal dignity, at the emperor’s feet, and rising with a sudden impulse, he threw himself outside with very swift steps. Seeing this, the emperor, considering that it tended to his own disgrace, rose anxiously, with many attempting to hold the departing patriarch, and others being sent one after another by the emperor in his name, begging him to return to the Augustus, who was calling him and bearing this departure of his most grievously. Deaf to all things, he kept his course until he arrived on foot at the neighboring monastery where he was staying, showing by his very deed what the nature of zeal is, and how it, when it has God as its author, is not hindered by the reverence felt for even the most exalted person present. At other times again (for my account rushes forward in a headlong fall after having once been diverted by this impulse), at other times, I say, the patriarch would pray again for the man, for whom he judged it was just that what he stood in need of be granted by the emperor, but though it was repeated often, the prayer availed nothing; and already the delay of the requested aid seemed long and indeed infinite. For the emperor, not swayed from his opinion, sought the fragment, while the patriarch in turn begged pardon for the poor man. And to the emperor, who excused himself by saying this was not the season for granting such pardon and asked that the matter be deferred, the patriarch replied that it was fitting to join indulgence toward a man with the reception of grace from God; then he asserted that he would never grant the sacred bread unless the emperor gave what was being asked. The struggle had no end, until at length the Augustus insisted with a more intense supplication that the bread be given to him, not so much for his own use or benefit, as he said, as to avoid offending the watching people, among whom he would suffer a loss of reputation if he were to depart empty and [deprived] of the sacred ^{C D}

But since he did not grant it, [the patriarch] said that he was taking it for judgment, unless he could relieve the pain of one who was grieving in vain; and that the emperor changed his cheerful demeanor into anger; and having added nothing ^B more, he said, "We have celebrated a feastless feast," and departed for the palace.

25. How the emperor, not bearing the harassment from the patriarch, appointed the third day.

[P. 277] Upon these things, the emperor, having respect for the man, greatly desired to devise a cause from elsewhere so that the man’s unyielding nature might be humbled. Yet, in the meantime, while apologizing to those around him for how often he resisted and was not persuaded, he would blame the patriarch's constant proximity for his disobedience, and how, being ^C continuously bothered, he suffered something similar to those who are short-tempered when many dishes are set before them; for they grow angry if someone does not clear away what has been placed there. And [he complained] that he himself was overwhelmed by many matters every day, and these not by messages, but face-to-face, whenever the debate had occasion to be softened toward agreement, as many people flowed in from elsewhere, dragging the emperor’s mind in different directions to be attentive to each one. And he asked to learn and sought a private moment for an audience, one day out of the seven having been chosen for this. And the third was selected, as this was to be the only day of the whole week that was a time for an audience before the emperor on behalf of men by the patriarch, and a specific clerk was assigned, Michael Xiphilinus, to whom it fell to write down the solutions to the petitions. Thus the third day was consecrated to God for mercy and consolation.

And so that the day of this privilege might not be taken away, if the sovereign were occupied with other matters by necessity, the monastery in the vicinity was designated as a resting place for those with the patriarch, to which he would sometimes return; and if he had not accomplished something from the morning due to a necessary occupation that had befallen the emperor, the late, dark hours, even until the night, would complete what had been left undone. And many people benefited from the patriarch’s zeal regarding these things. But these things are to that extent, for the discourse has also brought in, according to the sequence, those things which it recalled.

26. That legates should again be sent to the Pope. 27. That Icarius, having defected to the emperor, is placed in command of the fleet.

^A The emperor, for his part, having prepared legates, sends them to the Pope, both to announce the completion of the business [P. 278] and to learn the situation regarding Charles, and whether he had let down his intensity and inclined toward a more humble state. Having arrived, the legates announced the peace and were well received; however, they found Charles there breathing fire, clinging insistently to the Pope, and begging him to allow him to make an expedition against the City. They saw him daily throwing himself at the Pope’s feet, and being possessed by such frantic rage that he even gnawed with his teeth the scepter in his hand, which it was the custom for the magnates of the Italians to hold, since, despite his entreaties and the fact that he was putting forward his departure for the operation and presenting his alleged rights, he could in no way persuade the Pope to release him, but was speaking to a deaf man. For the Pope countered by putting forward the rights of the Greeks, that the great city belonged to them and had returned to its ancient owners, and that this is the law for men, and that cities and riches are the spoils of war, and, what is more, they are children of the Church and Christians. And [he said] that for Christians to be pitted against Christians was something not to be done, lest we also provoke the anger of the Divine.

^B Thus, with Charles being checked, the emperor, relieved of the anxieties regarding him, applied himself more strongly to his immediate concerns. He also received Icarius, who had defected, a man who possessed great experience in battles and who ruled over a very large island, [P. 279] which those who live there are accustomed to call Anemopylae ("Wind-Gates"), but who had fled from there by a twist of fate. At any rate, he transferred the island to the emperor, and he himself was enrolled among the emperor’s own retinue. The emperor, having shortly before lost the sebastocrator and having also lost the despot—his own brothers—and before them others: another sebastocrator, and a Caesar, and a protovestiarius, and a megas doux, and, simply put, those who held the greatest dignities, was under a necessity to install others. And indeed, he kept this Icarius, who was still in the rank of private individuals, and, having placed him on ships along with infantry forces, he sends him to the Euripos to join the great lord John. And when the army disembarked from the ships at about Soreos, John, having learned of their disembarkation, even though he was suffering from gout, did not shrink from the battle against them, but, having immediately drawn up his line and readied the Latin force, he went straight to where he heard they were. And having engaged in a fierce battle, he is struck by a javelin and falls; for the pain in his feet did not allow him...

to remain firmly on either side of the saddle-cloth, but at the same time he was struck and immediately fell and was captured. And many others were entangled with him, including the brother of Icarius. ^B Meanwhile, an army also invaded from the land, led by the great stratopedarch John Synadenos and the great conostaulus Michael Caballarios. And having made a rush for the fortress of Pharsala—which the ancient account calls Phthia—with the intention of bringing provisions to the garrison, they stumbled upon the illegitimate John, who, having engaged them in a fierce and manly battle, captured both Synadenos and the great stratopedarch. However, as for the great conostaulus, the Italian soldiers under him who were pursuing him could not catch him; rather, he gave his horse full rein and fled, and he outran those who were pursuing him by a great distance. But it was not for him to escape his fate, even if he did everything possible. For while he was riding his horse with less than perfect control, thinking he could outrun those behind him and having his mind only on how to escape them, he collided with a tree at the full speed of his horse and crushed his chest. With difficulty, some men stopped the horse (for he was not concerned about the horse, but about his wound and his death) and took him down half-dead; and as they were heading toward Thessalonica, they brought him there, and after he died, they buried him. ^C Joannes, meanwhile, together with his men, having committed many acts of slaughter against our people with impunity, carried off much booty and precious spoils as a prize of victory. On this second occasion, the Romans were taught by bitter experience who and how great this illegitimate John was in war: for he did not launch a frontal attack in the open field, but by attacking from an ambush—as he was a man for such things—he struck terror when seen, and having bravely defeated a choice force well-versed in battle by an unexpected reverse, he carried off the glory of the highest renown. As for the naval force, those who were on the ships were kept unharmed, or rather, having brought home the spoils of battle, they returned to the sovereign with eager hearts alongside the great lord John. Thus, those around the great lord were put in chains and under guard, and Icarius was rewarded for his struggles with the dignity of the great conostaulus. The people of Thebes, however, set up John’s brother, William, as the great lord in his place. The emperor, having given him a brilliant reception and tested him, took him as a son-in-law and released him under secure oaths. But the marriage remained merely in promises. For as soon as he reached his homeland, he fell ill and died. He was succeeded by his brother William, whom the account also describes as the son-in-law of John, and who held the entire dominion of the deceased. And he was opposed to the Romans, even if the fleet, attacking that place every year, afflicted his lands

^A with great damage; nor did the vigorous Icarius, now leading the fleet with the authority of a great duke, grant William any respite to act successfully or even to breathe, being opposed to him as an enemy.

28. Concerning the expatriarch Joseph and Veccus.

Since, as has been said, Joseph was residing in the monastery situated at Anaplus, the patriarch John—Veccus, that is to say, the same man who had formerly been the chartophylax—was seized by a severe illness. During this period of weakness, having suffered much from the malady itself and the remedies, and seeming to be somewhat better, it appeared to the physicians that the invalid ought to be moved to a place removed from the bustle of affairs, where he might be treated at leisure, ^B without the nuisance of daily toil interfering. In that quietude, they had decided to administer certain purgative medicines, intending to drain away the remnants of the disease and the noxious humors that were its cause. The most suitable retreat for this purpose was considered to be the Laura, that very place where he who had been patriarch, Joseph, was living, whom the emperor had therefore decided to place elsewhere, not considering it appropriate for the predecessor and successor in the patriarchate to be lodged in the same dwelling. But John, simultaneously knowing the gentle and cheerful character of Joseph, and being aware that it was he who had, one might say, openly supported his own recent advancement to the helm of the Church—for it was by the emperor's desire, when he wished to explore Joseph's opinion concerning his successor, that he had consulted him regarding the person he judged suitable for the office; and Joseph had chosen Veccus before many others, as he was ^C otherwise eloquent and learned, and moreover well-versed in the administration of affairs, and, in addition to other qualities, relying on his tranquil and peace-loving nature—John, for these reasons, opposed Joseph's being moved. Joseph therefore remaining there, he himself also went to the monastery, frequently sending messages to Joseph and receiving in return his friendly and most gracious responses. For that man was peaceful and cheerful, and was so averse to the Church’s course of action that he was not even ashamed to say often that the oath was a hindrance to his being among them in these matters, since, as he supposed, matters could not be otherwise than they had occurred. Living in these circumstances, John had in his hands and read many of the writings composed by those who persisted in the schism, the purpose of which was to show that this whole business of peace was suspicious, and led us far away from God and the true religion; ^D furthermore, that the Italians were held guilty of heresies, not veiled in any way or ambiguous, but evident and known in the light of day. They said they possessed proof of such assertions, manifest and clearly convincing testimonies of authoritative writings, which, with much ambition, they wove together and brought forward. And if any utterance of the holy fathers was opposed to what they said, they first took exception—as one might say—that it was arbitrary, that is to say, that it was adapted only to the will of those striving for peace to confirm the concord offered. Then they conceded that peace should indeed be made, but only when no consensus was demanded in that which it was certain offended God: for they said that one should not purchase tranquility at the cost of God; and that it was much better

^A to be in danger of failing from God and the true religion than to keep quiet. They wrote and disputed these things, shaping them into a most Catholic-seeming form, and gathering many things to that effect with careful lucubrations, by which it appeared that this whole business ought to be seen as doubtful and full of danger. Reading these, he seemed bound by necessity to refute them with opposing writings and to respond to each point individually. But being aware that from this conflict of those affirming and those denying, scandals would erupt for the readers—who, though endowed with a keen spirit, could not easily discern with sound judgment the semblance of truth in the arguments of those contending on both sides, nor could the writer, however cautious, maintain such moderation in treating such an argument as to sufficiently withdraw himself from the reproaches of many, or indeed from the crime of apparent collusion in most important matters—he restrained himself from writing and remained quiet. Indeed, to Xiphilinus, a grave man and then the great oeconomus of the Church, he confirmed that he would by no means give his effort to the elaboration of commentaries of that kind: "Lest we seem," he said, "to call into question once again what has been settled, as if we would cast into the hazard of a new dispute that which we have once decided to hold as fixed; for by the very fact that we would voluntarily descend into a contest with those who openly think the contrary and whom we consider innovators in ecclesiastical matters, we would be sustaining to hear and acknowledge what they allege for themselves. For since it is manifest that they are attempting to tear down the dogmas once established and held as ratified, one and the same defense is sufficient for us against all their urgings, in the manifest consensus of the Church standing for us; and the path of escape is clear, ^B by which, being abundantly secure, we may make an end of stirring up strife and quarrels, and it is permitted for us to make a shortcut by declining argumentation, by which, however clearly we might bring forth arguments for our side, we can scarcely hope to succeed in having what we have alleged attentively acknowledged; but we can much more probably fear that the refutation and revocation into doubt of dogmas once established with all firmity might be imputed to us; which is an act more hateful, and a crime to be avoided by us above all." He said these things as often as he took into his hands the commentaries of the authors who were still clinging to the schism; which, however, when he subsequently read, and noticed much of their corruption and fraud, he was sometimes seized by an impulse to refute splendidly what was mendaciously asserted, and to strip the mask from their dissembling reasonings. But he was held back, lest he do so, by the reason I have mentioned; by which, however, he was finally shaken, being compelled to come to the trial of dispute by writing against those who thought the contrary; whence it happened that he fell into many and grave straits. Then, having stayed for a good many days at the Laura, and having been now fully restored to health, he returned to Constantinople, having greeted Joseph most humanely upon his departure. ^C

29. On the rest regarding patriarch Joseph. But some were not able to be quiet from then on, nor to allow Joseph, enjoying that withdrawal, to be quiet; but they troubled the man with daily encounters, causing him much business, while they attempted to stir up his zeal, which was, as they complained, languishing due to an excess in the simplicity of his manners, and, as if by applying torches underneath, they sought to kindle it into a more fervent state. For the man was of such a cheerful and moderate nature that, even if there was a need for some of those who communicated with the Church to approach him, and the one who approached wished to be a partaker of his blessing, there was no need for anything else than to prostrate oneself and seek the blessing, and he would at once profusely bestow it upon whomever was admitted to communion. ^D

including those who were associated with him and others besides, which was intolerable. Therefore, the people who resorted to him daily grew bolder and bolder to break away completely. When this was reported to the sovereign, he abandoned that belief he had formerly held regarding him, and complained of what had been conceded to many out of a purpose that was not very moderate, as if he himself were not suffering justly. For if he, on the one hand, rejoiced in his enjoyments and accepted them as was to be expected, that man, on the other hand, treated with kindness and great intimacy, as though they were very close, men who stood very far apart from him, so much so that he was rending the body of the Church. It was incumbent upon them to follow him, and not for him to follow them, as they were openly enemies and disagreed on the greatest matters. He sent, therefore, men to forbid him from receiving them, if he cared to remain in peace. Joseph replied that if he wished to restrict him and those around him, and thus necessarily not receive those who approached him, it was not right for him to be accused beforehand if he happened to receive some who came to him; for there was a necessity ^B that they should resort to them, as well as those who were strangers. Or else, let him restrict him, if he wished, or if he were to let him go free and unrestrained, let him not complain. These things Joseph replied, not because he wished to add more to the hardship of those present, but because he trusted in his disposition, while at the same time he mixed into his words no small amount of gravity, as if, having ostracized him from honor, he wished to make him destitute of the consolation of men. The emperor, as if having derived from his words what would be advantageous to himself, and because he who would be persuaded had begun, as he was himself wishing to do something according to the respect he had for the man, refrained; and having made it seem proper from this point of view to restrict him—since he had been the first to mention it—he sent and took him out of the Laura, and restricted him in Chela (this is a small island fortress near the ends of the Euxine Sea), where it is easy to spend the spring, but very difficult to pass the winter, for the north wind blows directly against the mouth of the island, breathing out the bitterness of the cold. He also exiled some of the monks who were attached to him, ordering one here and another there to the islands in the Aegean.

He sent the monk Jasites Job, ^A a man of Chagae (this is a fort lying on the river Sangaris), to be kept under secure guard there.

30. How the emperor humbled the Genoese in the city.

At that time, as the emperor was preparing for an expedition against Orestias, he wished to humble the Genoese, who were acting with such overbearing insolence. ^B Previously, the Venetians had undoubtedly surpassed them in wealth and every other kind of splendor, so that their leaders—from whom their public council and the senate of the race were constituted—appeared far more affluent than the Genoese in riches, arms, and every sort of equipment. The cause of the difference was that the Venetians made greater use of the sea, and by traveling back and forth constantly in long ships, they amassed a greater sum of money ^C through most profitable trade than the Genoese, who traded within more confined borders and, as it were, more timidly. But from the time the Genoese became masters of the Euxine Sea, with the emperor granting them full liberty and immunity from all duties and taxes, they applied themselves to the business with such attention and assiduity that they did not hesitate to cross the Pontus even in mid-winter, using ships that were not entirely round, but of a contracted length, ^D which they call *taritae*. By this energy and diligence, they not only closed off all the paths of maritime trade to the Romans, drawing the profit and gain of all naval commerce to themselves, but they also succeeded—in the amount of money and, as usually follows, in the cultivation and luxury of attire, and in the domestic pomp of showy and precious furnishings—in leaving the Venetians themselves behind them. Hence, following the tendency of human nature, they happened to exalt themselves more arrogantly, not only holding themselves superior to other Latins but even to the Romans themselves, who held power in the East.

The emperor had, in fact, conferred a particular favor upon a certain noble Genoese, Manuel, called the son of Zacharias, regarding the mountainous regions of Phocaea in the East, which contain alum mines. Dwell- ing there, he worked them with a multitude of laborers subject to him. Having derived much from the industry, and desiring to have even more out of the favor and disposition of the emperor towards him, he requested that the Genoese not be allowed to bring down alum from the upper regions through the Euxine Sea, since many make use of this for dyeing wool-woven fabrics in various colors, as may be seen. The emperor, consenting, issued the order. Those Genoese, therefore, in the city, partly out of reverence for the imperial command and partly because they had the city as their final port of call, remained in the manner of fulfilling what had been enjoined. But certain others from Genoa, holding the command as naught, having built a larger, round cargo ship than the heavy freighters, sailed out.

^A And showing themselves to be quite regardless of their past custom—by which they had been accustomed, as soon as they appeared in these parts, to go straight to the palace of the Blachernae, and to transact no business nor turn aside anywhere else before they had worshipped the emperor and paid him due homage—they, I say, now neglecting these agreements, and making use of a fair wind from the south, sailed off without a care, and having passed through the mouth of the Euxine, they anchored in the ports of the sea that were heavy with grain. There they spent no little time pirating. Later, having also plundered a cargo ship that held no small part of merchandise, including alum, they loaded everything into their own ship and, feeling secure, sailed home. The Emperor, learning of the crossing, took this contempt in ill part, and pondered how it might be possible to get his hands on these people who had so disdained him. Nor was the Emperor’s will at all hidden to those men. Therefore, they were deeply concerned to make their voyage successful and to escape the danger which they learned from the Emperor was hanging over them.

So, as they sailed from there, the mountains of the East came into view. Sometimes they sailed with fair winds, and sometimes they also sailed obliquely against the wind that came on, as the breeze might favor them. In other places, such a method was sufficient and adequate for a smooth voyage, but when they arrived at the Pharos, only one wind was deemed useful, namely that from the North. [P. 286] Yet it was not a slack or sluggish wind such as to put the state of the air to doubt due to a calm—since it touched the sails at least—but such as one of the mariners might perhaps call the Tanaite. In this wind alone they determined they could trust, having despaired of others, for the sake of the ambush the Emperor had prepared for their journey. And indeed, after days of expectation, it arrived, to their great joy, blowing brightly and as a fair wind ^B for the ship. Trusting in this, they took courage, and having immediately spread their full sails, they were borne along with the current. They were confident in the force of the wind, but nevertheless, they also reinforced the sides of the ship with raw hides and armed themselves, so that the ship would be sufficiently resistant to fire and every projectile launched, and so that they themselves might fight if any were sent by the Emperor. The Emperor, having learned about these things, issued—

^A orders to the Genoese in Pera to send those who would stop them; and though they sent many to forbid the others from sailing further, they were unable to persuade them. The latter, however, were indeed averse to this opposition, yet, looking only to their own interests—both their goodwill toward the Emperor and their relationship with their own kin—they left the whole matter to him. The Emperor, however, considering this an extreme slight, and indeed a matter of greater ignominy if they were to sail out after having slackened their pace, mobilized the merchantmen (holkades) found at the city, and also gathered—like a huntsman gathering dogs—the Gasmuli of the city, and placed over them the Vestiarios, Alexius Alyattes. And he, having crossed the Bosporus with those around him, was doing terrible things as he issued his commands; and he considered it equal to being stripped of his office if they did not overcome them. Having therefore made their arrangements, those on the ships, and others stationed on the shore, awaited the merchant vessel as it came down. Those who were approaching ^B and enveloping it in a circle performed the task of warriors; but they accomplished nothing at all. For the force of the wind from the stern and the height of the ship aided them greatly, and the zeal of those resisting was in vain. Some pressed on, eager to halt its progress, while those on the merchant ship ignored them, as if they were accomplishing nothing; for while many were shooting at the ship with the wind, it proceeded forward, and moved on more than it could be stopped by those hindering it from below, and little by little it glided away and escaped those attacking it in a circle, who were many against few. The Emperor, sitting somewhere outside, was seething as he watched the attacks and the escapes, and he kept sending many, encouraging some, and ordering and threatening others. But the efforts were fruitless, and the ship escaped the hands of those straining for it by the favorable wind. As they were in difficulties, and the Emperor in great despondency, thinking the affair a mockery and an open laughingstock, one of those around him introduced a plan that seemed as if it would be useful. It was this: having borrowed from the Catalans their ship, which was the largest ^C of the others, to have capable warriors board it, and thus—having deployed its fire-throwers against the wind that was beating upon it—so as to confront those who for some time had been raging, and in this way to stifle them so that they might gasp for breath, and, having thus relaxed the intensity of the ship bearing down upon them, to unleash those who were on the other side. This, having been planned, was put into effect as soon as the word was given; and indeed, having boarded as quickly as possible from the stern, they found themselves on the ship as it was being brought down; for it also happened that the ship was nearby, and it was easy to transfer to the vessels in front. And as that one fell ahead, the second wind's [forces] ^D and many-footed [cables?] doing their work of rigidity... [alt-version omitted]

^A forced the ship [to remain immobile]. As both sides fell upon the other—those who were enemies toward that [ship], and those from below bringing aid—they struck with the greatest zeal. And thus, as others boarded after those first, and still others after them, while the emperor encouraged them from without, they took the ship, which by then had proceeded far out into the sea, in a mighty battle. They brought her down and anchored her at the imperial dockyard, and punished those aboard with just penalties. Many of them had their eyes gouged out with whatever stakes were at hand, ^B driven under the eyelids of the wretches—a debt, as they reproached them, for the punishment of those who had not feared to hold the August majesty in contempt. There occurred also another incident not unlike this one, whence heavy public hatred and the indignation of the prince were kindled against these same Genoese. For when one of them had spoken boastfully to Proselontes, saying, "The city will once again be taken by our people," he, full of indignation, struck the Latin so hard a blow that he deprived him of the use of his eye; but he did not do so with impunity, for the striker was immediately run through with a sword and died. The emperor, hearing of this, was moved, and began a method of investigating what had ^C surely happened. He demanded that his rower be returned to him by the Genoese, urging the matter gravely and threatening them if they did not do so. But as they did not return him (and indeed they could not produce one who was already nowhere to be found), he held them convicted by this very fact of the murder committed, and thinking the deed intolerable, he suddenly ordered Manuel Muzalon to exterminate the entire Genoese race without delay. He, in a moment, gathered all the soldiers who were in the city and as many as were in the suburban vicinity. An army stood nearby, terrifying to behold, ^D more formidable by their threats and readiness to rage than by much else, to those, at any rate, against whom the present ruin was aimed. They surrounded the houses of all of them at once, burning with an impulse at the immediate upcoming work, awaiting nothing but the nod of the emperor. This spectacle broke their spirits, however bold they had otherwise been, and suppressed the hearts of those whose innate ferocity had been irritated by the new offense. For when they considered with a calmer mind how precipitously their affairs and their safety hung, they easily saw that it was not the time to test their strength, which, they did not doubt, would succumb if engaged in an ill-matched conflict with the emperor’s power. Having therefore restrained their own anger by the power of his, they applied the most effective balm to disarm the external one they feared: the submissiveness of suppliants. Prostrating themselves in a humble manner at the feet of the prince, and making an appearance with ropes tied about their own necks, they implored mercy, declaring themselves guilty and ready to undergo whatever the Augustus might decree, acknowledging that they were inferior to the imperial power and swearing piously that they would obey his nod. They saw one safe refuge for themselves in his clemency from the impending slaughter: to take refuge in it, and they prayed again and again that they not be excluded even from that. Thus, that crowded multitude, subdued by fear into modesty, abandoned the stubbornness it had previously shown, promptly doing what was commanded. For they paid out a great weight of gold in the name of a fine, counting it no small gain to be able even in this way to appease the emperor's wrath and turn it away from their own heads at the cost of however much of their fortunes, acknowledging at last that it was more effective for avenging crime than was their own unbridled rashness for daring and perpetrating it. And these things indeed happened so.

^C

VI.

How and from what causes matters at Mt. Haemus were again disturbed.

[P. 292] The Emperor was again beset by cares, as matters at Mt. Haemus were once more in turmoil. For the agreements and the marriage-treaty of Constantine, which had been cemented by family ties, were already being confounded, as Maria was inciting her husband to hostility against the Romans, doing so with all the more effect since she had become more influential with him after having borne him a son named Michael, while the fulfillment of imperial promises was meanwhile at a standstill. For although the Emperor had accepted that he would cede Mesembria to Constantine as part of the matrimonial contract, he had not yet handed it over; and it was sufficiently clear that he had determined to devise pretexts without end to avoid giving away what he would be most unwilling to lose. ^B To this already burning fire of offense, a new injury was added: the neglect and scorn shown by the Emperor toward Eulogia, who was the mother of Constantine’s wife. The cause of the dissension between them was Eulogia’s clearly declared favor for those parties of the ecclesiastical factions which were less acceptable to the Emperor—a leaning the Emperor attributed to the hatred his sister bore him. Indeed, this matron’s zeal in this matter was so manifest that, not content with merely separating herself from the communion of those who agreed with her brother the Augustus, she openly strove to win over, favor, and protect with her patronage many of the leaders and participants in the schism. Maria, hearing of these things from those who visited her daily (for there were not a few monks who cherished their entreaties toward her, and who constantly traveled between mother and daughter, intent on traffickings in female influence for the sake of the schism), began to plot grievous things against her uncle. Although she herself was reluctant and indeed abhorred an act that appeared impious—as she used to say to the monks who implored her aid—she nevertheless made excuses, saying that she could not allow the aversion that the Emperor displayed toward her mother to go unavenged. ^C And so, attempting to repay a like measure of hatred, she strove to do more harm than could likely be feared from a woman; for she sent a certain Joseph, nicknamed the Cathar, along with others, to Palestine, partly so that they might reveal what had been done to the patriarch of Aelia, and partly to stir up the sultan ruling there against the Emperor through his agency, with these men also collaborating as much as they could. The intention was that, while the sultan attacked from that quarter, the Bulgarians would burst in from another, and the provinces subject to the Emperor would be harassed by a twofold evil from both sides. For they argued that the Emperor was in any case hateful to God because of the changes he had made regarding ancestral rites in religion, but that God was most of all moved and provoked to anger against men if He saw them corrupting the long-sanctioned dogmas of ecclesiastical doctrine and the legitimate use of sacred things through the introduction of innovation, and that there was nothing else that provoked God against men than that they should transgress the glory that had been believed from ancient times to be due to Him. ^D Those sent by Maria easily persuaded the patriarch of what they related, as he had already heard of it from others; and so, since these messengers were only adding to the magnitude of the affair, he regarded them as true ambassadors and did not act with excessive curiosity regarding the one who had sent them, nor did he think it necessary to inquire suspiciously into the whole purpose of this embassy, or whether any secret artifice or private political motivation was hidden under the specious pretext of zeal for religion. Thus he applied himself to the business with such zeal that he declared that even if Athanasius of Alexandria and Euthymius of Antioch were to agree with the Emperor, he alone would not hesitate to oppose him. As for the sultan, this embassy arrived for him quite unexpectedly, since

it was of a kind such as it was reported no prince of Egypt ^B had ever received before. The obscurity of the Bulgarian nation, until then little celebrated and judged to be of no great power, also gave offense; wherefore the entire matter was viewed by him with suspicion and contempt, and the legates were sent away in silence.

However, the opinion of the patriarch of Aelia, Gregory, did not deceive him in those things which he had surmised concerning the other two patriarchs. For the Antiochene had already arrived in Constantinople, having been liberated from the hands of the King of Armenia. For this king, being hostile to that patriarch and desiring to remove him from the midst, when he had the man in his hands, delivered him over to certain men to be taken away to a place where it would be necessary for him to perish shortly. And they, having received him, committed him to a desert rock surrounded by the sea for certain destruction, as it was completely devoid of every human means of support and commerce. But he, having been delivered from there, as he said, by the celestial aid of the wonder-worker Nicholas, fled to the Emperor, betaking himself to Constantinople.

The Alexandrian, moreover, having arrived after the things ^C which had been done—concerning the religion recently established which some disapproved of—did not seek to undo what had been done; wherefore he remained quiet, all the more securely because, on account of the distance of the places where he lived from Constantinople, he trusted that he would not be sullied by any envy of the affairs transacted there, especially toward those to whose counsels he had not been invited. It was added that for many, where he was—living among Barbarians, the enemies of the true religion, and embroiled in adversities—he did not think it best to obstruct the port of the Emperor's grace, which he possessed as a refuge ready for him. Therefore, he showed himself amenable to him from whom he might expect solace, in no way censuring the things established by him, but embracing quiet, yet abstaining from an explicit endorsement of things already done, truly judging it to be untimely now for him to move a controversy regarding matters once established. ^D

2. *How Maria deceived Sphentisthlabus.*

In the meantime, Maria caused her son Michael, of immature age, to be crowned, and from then on she raised and educated him royally, assigning him a place in public acclamations after his parents. But a troublesome suspicion disturbed her, intent as she was upon these things, regarding Sphentisthlabus; he had a claim, certainly not unlikely, to the principality of Bulgaria, and was supported by no small power to defend it, especially since he was already a despot. Therefore, she thought it best to attack him with guile, taking a pretext for fraud from the same source whence the cause for her fearing for the child was greater—namely, from the sickness of the King, her husband Constantine, who was lying ill without hope.

She therefore sent certain men to Sphentisthlabus who, after they had given him the most religious and sincere pledge of Maria's goodwill toward him by means of oaths, asked him most invitingly to come to her and not be burdened. Persuaded and relying on the sanctity of the oath, he repaired to Ternovum. Nor did the aged man there spurn the ridiculous adoption offered by so young a woman, which would make him, the elder, a brother to the suckling child. The event was celebrated openly in the church as follows: after the solemn rites and blessings for such occasions had been performed by the priest, and with a great number of torches shining, Maria, drawing apart the royal mantle, placed both Michael the little boy and the old man Sphentisthlabus on either side in her arms; and with these terms of the treaty established in this manner, he returned home carrying the new title of son.

While the boy, adopted as a son by the mistress of the Bulgarians, was measured by time, the so-called mother, having practiced treachery, ^A killed the one who believed he was being adopted. But Justice did not, as is her frequent custom, neglect this, but raised up one who would seek blood for the one unjustly murdered. And the narrative wishes to trace back the events of the story from the beginning.

3. Events concerning Lachanas from the start, and how he murdered Constantine.

There was a peasant there pasturing pigs for hire, called Cordocubas; the Greek language takes that name for “herb” [lachanon], and he is named Lachanas from this. He, carefully tending the pigs entrusted to him, neglected himself, not occupying himself with food or clothing, but living on bread alone and wild herbs, he lived simply and artlessly. And to his companions—those who were the same as he was, to whom he frequently discoursed—it was evident that he cherished great notions about himself. They mocked him no less than they believed him. Hence he, having buoyed his mind with such hopes—I know not from where—began to pay ^B attention to himself, and offered prayers to God as he chanced to have them; for where would there be for him, while in the fields, having things equal to those he was pasturing, even the thought of divine scriptures? Being therefore for the most part lost in thought, and setting nothing as more important than the establishment of some authority, he frequently explained the same things to those peasants and swineherds, speaking of certain encounters with saints and the promptings from them to be moved and to rule the nation. Since he spoke of these things frequently, he was believed. And now they paid attention to him differently than before; for he indicated that the deadline for being moved was near. So, once, he said he had received the signal for the impulse, and he immediately drew them toward his own attendance, and they followed him as if hoping to accomplish something great. They went, therefore, into the country, and they proclaimed the name of the swineherd as one to whom the signal had come from God to rule. And by saying this at once, they persuaded, and more were added each day. And he, too, began to change into a more orderly state, donned a cloak, girded on a sword, mounted a horse, and gained confidence for works greater than himself. Since Constantine, therefore, was infirm in his body (for he had a broken leg and was immobile, and even if it was necessary to travel somewhere, he was carried on a wagon, which was an empty burden), many despised him, and especially the neighboring Tochari, making incursions every day ^C and truly [making] the Mysians their prey.

[Latin column content:] ...tuendi principatus, quem quasi ad scopum acta et meditamenta cuncta sua dirigeret. Habebatque de talibus ad suos illos sodales rusticos et subulcos serios sæpe sermones, memorans mira etiam visa et quasdam apparitiones sanctorum, a quibus impelli se aiebat ad jugum excutiendum et sibi usurpandum gentis imperium. Ejusmodi tam sæpe disseruit, ut quantumvis incredibilium fidem faceret. Jamque alio ei plerique studio quam prius attendebant, maxime cum ediceret fatale tempus decretæ sibi divinitus potentiæ imminere, moxque se erupturum in ejus arripiendæ conatum, quem prospero successu fortunandum sciret. Ad hæc arrectis aliquandiu subito diem pronuntiavit, qua die proditurus esset e latebris et maturo jam præclaro cœpto felix auctore Deo auspicium daturus. Nemo dubitavit aut renuit. Conclamarunt omnes duceret quo vellet; se alacriter in cunctis obseculuros. Nec facta dictis abfuere. Addunt addicuntque ipsi se frequentes, magnis elati spebus. Cursant per ^D regionem proclamantes subulcum a Deo missum, et ad manum jam conflatam ingentem certatim undique accurrentium aggregant numerum. Crescebat in dies multitudo, et novus dux ad consentaneum assumptæ dignitati se fingens habitum, abjectis centonibus honestiorem induit vestem; enseque succinctus, equo inscenso, ad opera majora quam ejus hactenus fortuna caperet, palam se accinctum ostentare ausus est. Valetudine tum, ut dictum est, Constantinus infirma utebatur: nam crure dudum fracto facultatem incessus amiserat, et si quopiam esset necesse proficisci, curru pondus iners trahebatur. Ea res contemptum illi conciliavit plurimorum. In his Tochari finitimi, fera gens et

^A accustomed to living by plunder, fearing nothing from a lame prince, were making very free incursions into Mysia and laying waste to everything far and wide, customarily practicing the raids of the Mysians with impunity, as the ancient proverb says. Lachanas, encountering one band of these with his own men, destroyed them utterly. The next day, catching another similar cohort of theirs, he killed them as he had the former. Consequently, in a few days his name became famous, and his resources naturally grew with the accession of no small numbers of both people and regions, as everyone placed their highest hope in him to remedy public misfortunes. Meanwhile, the trumpet of fame was ambitiously sounding the name of Lachanas everywhere. Not a day passed wherein his army did not grow in numbers, and wherein he did not distinguish himself by some notable victory over the enemy. These things troubled Constantine not a little as they were announced one after another. Indeed, when the fame of these events, at first not believed, was finally established as fact, the emperor himself was also vehemently moved by this most unexpected novelty. His own prudence compelled him to suspect this man, lest some unknown evil lay beneath it; for how could so base a man advance so securely, unless he relied upon the confidence of resources not yet apparent, and far greater than those which were visible, of which he was aware? But while all were in common admiration, Constantine alone, whom the proximity of the danger pricked, having made levies in haste throughout the whole region, thought he must strenuously apply a remedy to the evil, for it was growing—and most unexpectedly—far beyond what anyone could have imagined. Furthermore, the emperor had not yet finalized his plan for war; nevertheless, he determined that he must set out towards that frontier, partly to ascertain more certainly from close quarters and, if anything were to fail there, to strengthen it; and partly to occupy with garrisons and suitable fortifications those approaches that lay open from that side into Roman territory, through which they feared Lachanas might burst in as word of him spread. With this intention, while he hastened with rapid horses toward Orestiades, traveling through the fields frozen stiff by the harsh winter, it befell him to suffer grave peril. For the horse upon which he was riding slipped on the ice and, when it threw its rider, it collapsed upon him with its entire bulk, ^B and nearly crushed him, wounding him in the hands and face so severely that the wounds could scarcely be healed during the whole time of his protracted expedition, nor could it be prevented that clear scars would still disfigure him upon his return to the city. But then, as he arrived at Adrianople on that journey, a certain messenger met him with news of the slaughter of Constantine. For, as the power of Lachanas grew day by day, and the Bulgarians were everywhere defecting from their king, despising him for the swineherd, and no one remained who could have resisted, Sphentisthlabus having earned his ruin through the treacherous blandishments of Maria; and as for the nobles of the nation who had been most loyal to Constantine, some had been killed by the wicked machinations of Maria, while those who still lived were partly falsely suspected as if they favored the rebels, and were partly, having truly taken offense at those reigning, hanging onto the ascendant faction; Constantine, left almost alone in the middle, was compelled by sharp necessity to hazard the fortune of war with a few remnants of his former power and to expose himself to Lachanas, who already despised him. Therefore, bringing against him a drawn-up battle line, he himself riding in a chariot, and the few who were faithful to him, they attempted to restrain the assaults of those who had hitherto been raiding with impunity. But Lachanas, encountering them as they came against him, as soon as he saw them, he moved, and rushing in with mad impetus, he slaughtered the army and conquered them completely; and

reigning over them, he treated some of his people in the same way he did the rest, as his own. Having already firmly taken possession of the country, he was laying hands on the cities as well, and would not stop demanding them for himself, being proclaimed ruler and emperor. But as for his own affairs, in this way, and thus day by day, he was increasingly aggrandized, and meeting with success, he prospered.

4. How the Emperor joined Asan to his daughter Irene in marriage.

^A The Emperor, while grieving at the unexpected event, as was natural, sought to secure his own affairs as best he could, as far as he was safely able after the fall of Constantine, wishing to increase his leverage through ties of kinship with Lachanas. He sent envoys to test the Barbarian, wishing to discover if he was capable and how far he might advance, thus making a beginning simply, but by good fortune attaining the greatest results. He also considered taking him as a son-in-law for his daughter, if it should seem to them that he was capable of handling the rule of the Bulgarians itself. However, seeing also the instability of fortune—how it gives the greatest things and at the same time takes ancient ones away, inclining the scales—and considering that virtue is the proper accompaniment to what is added, and that what is removed is not unexpected, he mistrusted fortune’s ways in many things, lest, having given much, it might suddenly take everything away ^B and, without virtue, even what little had been given by it might be darkened, so that one would not reach the point of being amazed and pitied by obtaining it, or, failing, by not obtaining it.

For this reason, revolving these things in his mind, he called a council, summoning those about him. For he saw that the Bulgarian rule was in need of someone to govern it by necessity; he proposed to them both Lachanas and John, the son of Mytzes. And concerning the former, he knew that he had fortune, audacity, and the capacity for practical affairs that would contribute to attaining the rule, but he discerned that John had a lineage and connection to himself that made him more suited to a firm rule. The council was pleased by the proposal that the son of Mytzes should become son-in-law to the Emperor, and thus, having been established ^C in the previous kingdom, he would be raised up, and from that point, [P. 298] as Emperor, partly because of the right belonging to Mytzes and the affection his fathers had shown toward them, and partly because of the Emperor’s disposition toward—

^A himself, providing as much care as a father-in-law owes a son-in-law. It was also probable that Lachanas, who had suddenly been puffed up by chance, would, upon the appearance of the Roman forces there, either fall back into the slavery previously known or flee and hide somewhere, having nowhere else to turn or to show strength. Furthermore, it would be easy for the Ternobites to betray Maria and her son, for they were both in their power; it was not credible that they had already forgotten the many and recent injuries that woman had inflicted upon them.

5. How the Emperor, having sent regarding this matter, sought counsel also from the Patriarch.

The Emperor, having pondered these things, sent and sought the counsel of the Patriarch in secret. ^B And not only did he incline greatly toward Mytzes, but by his writing, he gave a certain weight to the requested advice. The hieromonk Theodosius, surnamed Princeps, also wrote this, having been ^C asked for his advice on these matters as well, for he was already among those being considered for the patriarchate—the Euthymius of Theopolis having died. ^D As for how the remaining bishops—some arriving from there, others already present there upon his urging—were moved: for the counsel of Theodorus of Anazarbus also pleased them in these matters, as he was already lying ill; at the Patriarch’s urging, he saw to it that enough were convinced to ensure that the one to be called after him would be chosen blamelessly and sufficiently. Thus, when the one to serve was being sought, and no one was rejecting the Princeps, it was immediately a matter of both casting votes and summoning the man. But the Emperor, foreseeing something wise in these matters, suspected the mockery, and he took care lest he incur the ridicule that hung over this suspicion. Indeed, he was not unaware that the Princeps was not entirely united with the Church due to previous events, and although he thought of bowing to the extreme honor proposed, yet he could not firmly trust it. If, therefore, having been elected, he should refuse, it would remain for him to say that he had been beckoned but did not comply—a sufficient honor—while those who had called him would necessarily have to bear the lesser part, in that even after they had requested him, they were not accepted. He wrote these things in secret to the Patriarch, [P. 299] attempting to know the mind of the Patriarch on this matter, sending letters by trusted men. He, having long since been inclined toward Mytzes of his own accord, commended that plan in swift correspondence at great length, and indeed, by the prerogative of such authority, added final momentum to the deliberation hanging in the balance. The concurring judgment of the hieromonk Theodosius, nicknamed Princeps, was added to this: for the Emperor had also asked for his advice in writing, as he had been designated patriarch, by the just number of votes, in place of the deceased Euthymius of Theopolis. It would not be out of place to set down something more distinct here about this whole business. The patriarchal see of Antioch being widowed of its shepherd, many of the Eastern prelates were present, some having set out for Constantinople for that reason, and some already called beforehand by Euthymius, who was living there. For the bishop Theodorus of Anazarbus, who was assisting him as he lay ill from the disease of which he died, had persuaded him to summon to himself, even now, an adequate number of the prelates of his own patriarchate, who, if anything should subsequently happen to him by human lot, could elect his successor by just suffrage. Among these, as they discussed the man worthy of this place after Euthymius had already died, it was sufficiently evident to the common judgment of all that no one seemed preferable to the Princeps. Nor was there any delay by any of them in immediately bringing forward the decree of his elevation to that dignity, and having been duly called, he would have been inaugurated into it, had not the Emperor ordered that the deliberation be briefly superseded and suspended. He feared, out of the deep prudence with which he was accustomed to perceive the intimacy of current events, that he might allow himself to be deceived and mocked in this business, and deservedly would owe a laugh to the wise if he permitted a man who thought differently regarding the controversy then raging in the Church to be armed with such sudden authority against himself and against the cause he considered better. However, because he saw that the same Prince was not masking his own inclination toward the faction severed by the schism, but nevertheless did not seem so fixed and irrevocable in it that it could not be hoped he would transition to the side of those who would have merited everything from him by the voluntary bestowal of his supreme honor, he believed it necessary to gamble neither prematurely nor too dangerously on the promise of this hope. For what if, having been proclaimed and inaugurated as patriarch, he were to turn out differently than hoped; and being of the highest dignity, which he had accepted from those foolishly trusting him, he were to lean with his full weight upon the depression of those very same people who had thus promoted him without first having explored him? For these reasons

^A a testing was conducted through the writer of these things: for this man, having the greatest familiarity with him, was judged before others as suitable for this test. Therefore, in accordance with what had been ordered in secret by the emperor to the patriarch, and by the patriarch to the writer, he frequented him often, and by setting forth matters concerning the patriarchate, while [the candidate] was unaware of the goal, he hunted for his mind and sought to lay claim to his intent; and he gave firm assurance, having been himself assured, that if he were called, he would obey and accept the calling to the patriarchate. These things came to pass, and as if toward one who was already a candidate for election, the emperor acting thereafter sent friendly epistles and made him a partner in necessary matters according to his counsel. When he had then accepted their advice, and before that, the advice of the [empress] ^B consort, he performed the tasks of the plan in reality, and sending out, brought to himself John from the regions of the Skamander in the Troad (for there he was conducting his life, having sufficient means for his provision) and having changed his attire, he called him his son-in-law and King of the Bulgarians. He also translated him to the [status] of his grandfather Asan throughout all the ^C lands [surrounding him], and as he triumphed in that name, and added judgments along with the honors for those who did not speak thus, [he remembered] the need. And of the Bulgarians, he summoned those who were ready to join him as if he were immediately about to benefit them, and those who were also providing for their own safety he sent gifts and gladdened them, strengthening them with hopes that they would fare well if they were to accept John as king, abandoning Maria. These things, then, he managed from Adrianople, and he immediately swayed ^D some who were joining him for the reputation alone [by which he was established], and he demagogued the Bulgarians with promises.

6. How he also made Michael, who had arrived from the West, his son-in-law.

When [the emperor] had returned to the city, the arrival of Michael from the Western tracts, which was at hand, was announced. He was the youngest son of the Despot Michael, called Demetrios at the beginning, but upon the death of his father, he took up his name in memory of him, having set aside his own. The portion of his father’s territory, which had by right fallen to him, did not appear to suffice for the magnitude of the dignity which he was then entering as son-in-law to the emperor (for he had already begun to be called thus, the daughter of the Augustus having been betrothed to him by her father); having abandoned it, he transferred himself to the emperor, trusting in his letters confirmed by oath. There were

indeed, for the emperor, with regard to both of his daughters, Irene as well as Anna (for Eudocia was still small), arrangements prepared for their husbands; but the wedding of Irene was celebrated with greater splendor for Asan, who was already being proclaimed king of the Bulgarians. For he used imperial symbols, in regard to color indeed only on the trappings and the saddle cloths, which were merely of wool, but in other respects the same as those of the Augustus himself. ^A And the agreements were, that if they successfully arrived at Trnovo together with the emperor's forces, they should endeavor to acquire that city and with it the kingdom of Bulgaria for the new son-in-law of the Augustus; if, however, fortune should not respond to the undertaking, he would be honored with the title and authority of Despot in the imperial court. The marriages for these parties having been completed, continuous consultations were added as to how the matters facing them might proceed with ease.

^B But the marriage of Michael and the second of the emperor's daughters, Anna, had encountered an obstacle from the canons of the Church, which Sisinnius had long ago established and strengthened with secure excommunications. For Anna, the wife of the Despot Nicephorus, was the first cousin of the emperor's daughter Anna, since she was born of the sister of the same emperor, and Nicephorus and Michael were full brothers. Since, therefore, the connection between them was found to be in the sixth degree, consisting of four degrees from one side and two from the other, it required a synod to decide upon that impediment. But when it seemed good to the Fathers, on account of the good of the peace which was expected to come from such a resolution, to judge it a just cause to grant a dispensation to the royal spouses from the canonical obstacle that forbade their union, they proceeded with common consent to the opinion that the marriage should be permitted, regarding the benefit to the public peace as abundantly outweighing the indecency, if any existed, of violating the canonical prescriptions in a union of persons previously bound by such kinship. Therefore, by the votes of all, that which the princes were asking for was granted, and Michael, honored with the title of Despot, was duly united in marriage to the lady Anna, the emperor's daughter. ^C From that point, this same Michael bound his faith to the Augusti by an oath of clientage. John Asan, on his part, swore and promised that he would preserve his alliance with the Romans if a secure possession of the Bulgarian kingdom fell to him; but if that did not succeed, he would remain as a subject of the Augusti in a client relationship, at a rank lower than the Despot, and, should the hope for the Bulgarian kingdom not succeed, he was to be designated by this title of dignity.

7. Concerning Maria, and how she lived with Lachanas

^D The emperor was eager to seize Maria before she could look to her own affairs and establish them well, and so place an impenetrable barrier against the plans and hopes of the emperor; rather, he was in a hurry to keep sending many envoys to her, not so much to march there in a hostile manner or to devastate the region, but to persuade the Bulgarians in a gentle manner to surrender Maria and to accept the son-in-law and daughter of the emperor into the kingdom in her place. [898 B] And Maria, indeed, understanding that she had been brought into straits and was hemmed in between two evils—for on one side, there was the newly appeared evil of Lachanas, who was pressing upon her...

^A region with victorious forces, desolating the land and seizing everything wherever he turned upon his first arrival, and who had already become master of most of the places around Trnovo; and on the other side, the forces coming from the emperor were increasing, whose commanders were seen to have the intention, with respect to the Bulgarian kingdom, of saving Maria and the boy Michael, with the result that they were despoiling whatever outside the city lay weak and exposed to injury, while inside the city itself they were seducing the leading nobles with promises to defect—she was agitated in her soul by fearful anxieties for herself and for her child. Not being able to stand against both parties, she decided to appease one, doing so only to the extent that she might be spared from the daily disasters, and the greater ones.

She judged it, then, to be among the expected and otherwise proper things to turn to the emperor, both so as to preserve her sense of modesty and the duties owed to her departed husband (duties which surely did not include joining with his slayer), and because she sought safety from the one from whom she had also received her position of honor. For these reasons, therefore, she decided to send to the emperor and to supplicate him, these being the just courses. But how much this would be for her own advantage according to what she was desiring, she knew to be very dissonant; for it was her eager desire to secure her position of honor for herself and for her son Michael, but the emperor—even in his dreams—would not desire to let go of the children, whom he had indeed begun to establish, to surrender the power to them.

Thus, she was thoroughly convinced that the proposals ^B from the emperor were hopeless, and she considered it pointless to send to the barbarian and request that she be allowed to remain as ruler of the nation in accordance with her own terms; for it was impossible for one who was claiming that power for himself to make a treaty with one who currently held it. And reflecting on the things from the emperor, she could not find rest; for the emperor, once he had begun to concern himself with the children for the sake of the power, would not be at peace. She decided, therefore, to disregard the duties to the departed one, and to disregard as well the judgment of people, should she, being who she was, yield herself to such a man, and to look only to what seemed to be to the advantage of herself and her child. This meant, as she thought, giving herself up entirely to the swineherd, and opening to him the gates of the palace and the city, and to be with him and live with him as a royal lady. Having considered these things, she immediately sends—for the emperor's envoys did not allow her to rest—those who would reveal to the barbarian her intentions and her request. And he, having heard, first of all indeed acted with haughtiness, for effect, and gave himself airs before those who had been sent, acting as though he were putting on a show, as if the power, which he was just about to grasp, were to be achieved for him by a sword and a power superior to hers.

^A Yet he also accepted the marriage, base as it was and profound, not as one might say out of a love for women or as a lover of the women’s quarters; for he was immediately on his guard against the softening of the character of those who accept such things, and he was wary of being held in contempt. Otherwise, in times of peace, he accepted the situation so as not to have blood shed in civil wars, as if he were giving a favor rather than receiving one. Therefore, upon oaths and treaties having been made by both sides, she opens the gates to him, and having brought him inside, she celebrates the marriage with him, and they accept the ribbons of royalty once again, and he prepares for the king an opponent who, as he thought, was sufficient. This event, when it occurred and was heard of, disturbed the king quite sufficiently and as much as was possible, although he too feigned not to be despondent, nor to be frustrated in his hopes, but rather to be indignant at her unmerited lapse, since she had disgraced the family and ruined the authority by handing it over to one who was worth nothing. For he did not believe that he ^B would be able at all to withstand and sustain that force from the Tochari, which was likely to fall upon him—both as a manifest enemy and as one who was also despised by his own men. Saying these things, he did not cease, and once again he sent forces to struggle, and he made preparations for the suppression of Maria.

Lachanas, therefore, was both disgusted at the sensitivities of this woman and wished to live in a barbarian fashion, holding in very great esteem those around him. For he knew that wars were being prepared from both sides, and that such indolence was in no way capable of soothing the dangers from the wars, so that he even frequently struggled against her, exerting blows. But he himself, judging the matters gathering around him to be above all other concerns, made the princes of the Bulgarians his own, and prepared both sides for war. For it was not possible for the Tochari, due to what had been done, to make peace, nor for the king's men to be attached in any way. For this reason, as far as he was able, he resisted.

^A He undertook a beginning which he did not hope for, and he hastened not only to keep it, but also to establish it. Yet, as those on the outside attacked him daily, he was compelled, even against his will, to fight; for he knew that even a barbarian, if he does not wish to fight, is forced to do so by necessity. For this reason, these matters regarding him were becoming entangled in a more perilous way. For neither were those resisting able to withstand the assault of the undisciplined [forces], and success was delayed for those who were advancing, as the victor would not use [his victory] well. For to fall into the hands of Lachanas was equal to death, due to his extreme severity; for barbarian customs know not how to soften the pitiable [fate] brought by fortune. ^B And often, having prevailed by their boldness, they would immediately be constricted by the expectation of evils, and if they were captured, they were destroyed. Lachanas was indeed surrounded by the forces around Asan; yet those from there, sometimes even taken against their will, were in good circumstances because of falling immediately—as if, forsooth, they had departed from the tyrant.

8. How Maria was delivered to the king, and Asan.

^C Affairs were languishing, and there was no hope of deliverance from these evils ^D unless there were a release from the barbarian. For when he had quickly departed as a governor—for it was not possible for him to escape the shiftiness of fortune, and having been puffed up, he had attributed everything to chance; whence he was reported as defeated by the Tochari—the news fell upon the Ternobitæ. A long-desired opportunity arose against Maria, and they decided at the same time to betray her and her son to the emperor’s men, and they accepted Asan as their master, since the affairs of the Bulgarians had belonged to him from of old. Maria, therefore, being pregnant with the offspring from the barbarian, was led with her son Michael to the emperor (for he had come to Adrianople for the second time), where

she was given over to appropriate custody. But Asan, and with him Irene—not at the same time, but after Asan, once the emperor had returned to the city—were received into Ternovo with great celebration and were proclaimed kings. ^A Among the principal figures there was one Terteres, a man of huge standing and favor among that people, and one accustomed to being extolled by them with the highest honors and praises. The emperor wished to join him to Asan through a bond of affinity and to honor him with titles; for the burgeoning desire for the throne from that man was great, since it was evident, even from his military commands, that he was aspiring to something greater. The obstacle to these plans was the wife whom Terteres then had; for if, while he remained in that first marriage, the emperor were to heap honors and benefits upon him, it would assist Asan in no way, but would rather increase his danger by strengthening the power of his rival with new accessions of wealth and, as it were, by heaping up fresh fuel for the fire, so that the feared conflagration might the more easily flare up. Therefore, the emperor took care to propose to Terteres that he would make him a Despot if he would repudiate the wife he had and take as his new bride the sister of Asan. These things were done, with Terteres quickly assenting, and his former wife, along with her son, called Osphenthlabos, was led to the emperor and by his order was committed to custody at Nicaea. But the sister of Asan was wed to Terteres, ^B and they were officially honored with the title of Despot.

How Asan departed from Ternovo.

From this, Asan indeed seemed for a time to have the great men for his cooperation, and a short amount of time measured out the principality of the Bulgarians to him. But since it had quickly begun to shift—for the Bulgarian character is ready for perfidy, and it is safer to trust the shifting breezes of the winds than their goodwill—and the signs of defection were clearly laboring from many quarters, Terteres was secretly fanning the flames of their intentions, already aspiring to royalty. While he was otherwise obvious in his suspicion, he was covered only by his affinity with Asan, as if he clearly would not betray one to whom he was joined by kin. Asan, observing the shift and fearing lest, by preempting him, they might inflict disaster and the dangers of the situation would become inescapable, ^C devised how to make his flight honorable and even profitable. And indeed he did go on to profit: for the affairs of the kingdom of the Bulgarians—those things which they held to be most beautiful, having obtained them long ago from the Romans when they were defeated under the generalship of the emperor Isaac and which had been stored away more for show than for actual need—these, and whatever other load

^A of property belonging to the patriarchate, they packed into sacks in secret and, casting them out of the city by night, themselves assumed the guise of those going out toward the parts outside the city for relaxation and luxury, and fled at full speed straight toward the great city. And arriving first at Mesembria with royal pomp and luxury, so as not to be caught in flight, they thus took to the sea and sailed toward the city. And indeed, having been brought down to the monastery of the archangel Michael near the Anaplus, the sovereign did not receive them for some days, being vehemently angry at the flight, which he judged to be untimely, and attributing the whole plan to empty and cowardly fear, by which he lamented that the fruits of many labors and expeditions were lost in a single moment through inconsiderate levity. Finally, however, since what had happened could not in any way be undone, he permitted them to enter the city and present themselves to the emperor; but Terteres seized the empty throne of the kingdom, with the consent of the Bulgarians. And in a short time he was simultaneously heard to be ascending the kingdom, and at the same time, being crowned ^B according to the custom of emperors, he was master of the Bulgarians. But these things are so far as this; what happened thereafter we shall tell later.

10. How accusations were constructed against the patriarch Veccus.

Now that four years had passed since John ^C had held the honor of the patriarchate, ^D grievous accusations were fabricated against him in the month of Lenaeon of the seventh indiction by some of the clergy; these were indeed entirely false and empty, yet they were not such that the sovereign was reluctant to receive them. For it was a matter of the utmost urgency for him to slacken the tension of the patriarch's zeal, and especially because of the things he had recently done, concerning which mention was made above. For these things, and many other matters that kept occurring, fanned the emperor's anger, yet he had no way to restrain the man [the patriarch] from his impulse—a man who was, moreover, impetuous and fervent, though not in matters concerning himself (for he was careless about these), but rather in those concerning others. Therefore, as he sought a way by which he might subdue the lion, the things accused were useful, although otherwise they seemed neither true nor acceptable. For one would sooner blame Peleus for licentiousness, or charge the most incorruptible of men, Aristides, with sacrilege, than justly attach such charges to him. But the charge that he had cursed the emperor was immediately exposed as a slander upon being heard. For he, having long served as an envoy to the emperor on behalf of some of those in need of mercy, had often, by way of trial, put forward what he thought would be beneficial, and as many times he had toward

the emperor achieved nothing at all. Of the three, one (as was often necessary) requested more insistently, another applied himself more firmly, while the emperor delayed and put things off. And the one begged to keep reporting back again, while the other—having learned by experience that he would achieve nothing (for he knew that he would also provoke anger if he spoke again)—defended his own position to the petitioner as if he had not been negligent in presenting his just cause to the emperor, and he introduced God as a witness to his earnestness, saying, "God sees the things about which you are making representations." But the one who was present there, having slandered the argument, fabricated a lie, as if the priest were calling upon God against the emperor for the sake of avenging the wronged. They thought that by these things, as if by some powerful battering-rams, they would shake the tower of that man’s soul. But the one who was fanning the impulses in them was Isaac of Ephesus, who was established as a spiritual father to the emperor, yet had no cause for enmity against the patriarch beyond his choosing to cooperate with the emperor in whatever seemed best to him, or at any rate in this one thing, or perhaps a second: his desire that the patriarchal sees in the East should be placed under himself, holding that the patriarch should have no more ^A authority in a parish than what was restricted merely to Constantinople, while those outside this should remain subject to the patriarchal power; those which were outside the city should be subject to the authority of those prelates who governed the dioceses where those places were situated. This was something he had long desired, and then he brought it to pass, not employing any more effective machine than the emperor’s [desire] to provoke or promote dissension on the part of the patriarch. This he did, helping the accusers and fanning the flames with all his power.

11. How the imperial novella proceeds in regard to the stauropegia (patriarchal churches).

For an imperial novella went forth, determining and ordaining many other things, but above all this: that whatever places or monasteries had been considered subject to the patriarch alone—wheresoever they might be—should from then on be subject by ordinary law to the bishops whose own proper dioceses they were in. For the practice that had existed from long ago—the Constantinopolitan jurisdiction holding authority outside its own borders—appeared as an offense and against the canons, nor did the one saying this understand that he was curtailing the ecumenical [nature] of the patriarch, confining him within Constantinople, and not even granting him as much of a parish as is alloted to an ordinary bishop. But Isaac, having seized the moment of enmity as a windfall, was securing for his own bishops—and, so to speak, for himself as well—the rights of Constantinople. The emperor, however, would not let the patriarch go for two whole months, sometimes setting him to work on judgments, ^B or else standing for him and bringing the charges against him ^C to the emperor ^D as someone trying to be a help to those who are wronged by others. Such was the man who was accepted by the emperor and, as far as possible, by him cherished.

And thus he was anxious and succeeded by no other device than by dividing the priest from the emperor, which he accomplished by receiving those who brought accusations and, so far as possible, cherishing them.

Now, the argument of the decree was added: that it appeared as an abuse and as an attempt against the authority of the holy canons to have done what had been practiced for a long time—that indeed the Constantinopolitan patriarch should have proper jurisdiction beyond the boundaries of his own diocese. And he who said this did not understand that he was stripping the patriarch of the title of "ecumenical," since he was shutting him up within the city of Constantinople, and not even granting him a diocese of the size and sort that is accorded even to any common bishop. But Isaac, at that time having no care for this, and counting as a piece of gain the opportunity offered to gratify his friends, the bishops—many of whom were offended by these exceptions of places within their own dioceses which were taken away from their ordinary power and subject to the authority of the patriarch—they contended widely that the Constantinopolitan [see] had no more right in foreign dioceses than any one of them had in the Constantinopolitan [see]. Moreover, the emperor [kept] the patriarch...

^A exercised him according to his own desire in these calumnies for two whole months, now permitting the judges to sentence him, now appearing to support him and to clear him of the charges, asserting that the accusers were lying and bringing forward nothing but mere slanders. Yet he maintained, as if on a stage, a double role: on one hand, openly permitting the accusers to criminate the patriarch and to throw the accusation in his face publicly; on the other, solacing him again in private, pretending to grieve for him as one most unjustly vexed by calumny. How poorly his deeds accorded with his words was manifest. For if the innocence of the accused was as clear to him as he wished to appear, why did he permit the informers to clamor so licentiously for so long a time—they who, it escaped no one, would not have dared even to whisper if the emperor had once declared to them that what they were doing displeased him? But all perceived that this was done by the astute prince so that the patriarch might understand he was paying the penalty for the contentious obstinacy with which he had not feared to quarrel with the prince. That quarrel, however, and his contentious pugnacity he labeled “religious zeal” for protecting those oppressed by calumny or any other injury.

12. What befell the patriarch regarding the mission of the Kolybas

^B It will not be irrelevant to relate what occurred at the beginning of these accusations, as it is witty and amusing to tell, so that from this specimen the reader may estimate how much malice allows itself and what it will not achieve when an opportunity is seized. It was the custom everywhere and at all times, during the celebrated and august ritual of the anniversary feast of the Hypapante, that some more exquisite ceremony be added at that time in favor and honor of the emperor, because he had been, as was said, restored on such a day to the communion of the Church and absolved of the anathema by Joseph. Among those things that were bountifully added to the customary rites of his religion, it was usual that there be offered to the patriarch for blessing at the altar, to be sanctified, parched wheat—together with the fruits of the harvest—in bronze platters variegated with encaustic work and bearing a painting of autumnal produce; then one of these platters, the most excellent, was carried as a kind of first-fruit to the Emperor who was dining.

Since it was necessary that a great many such bronze platters be collected from outsiders for these uses, among those that had been loaned by various people for this year, one was seen to be by chance more beautiful than the others, and thus worthy above all to be offered to the emperor, so it was set aside for this very purpose. Furthermore, besides the appearance of brilliantly applied paint, there were also Egyptian characters inscribed upon it. For it is the custom, as they say, for the Egyptians, in marking veils, candelabra, and other vessels, to affect this method of ornamentation with their letters beautifully painted. It happened, however, that the Egyptian elements which painted this platter intended for the emperor expressed, in an honorable way, the name of the detestable Machumet—or, which is the same thing, Moameth. The accusers did not fail to notice this abominable word inscribed around the circle of the platter. ^C When it was still in the temple, as has been said, awaiting its delivery to the emperor, they sent a certain man to report to him that the platter intended to be offered to him had been studiously chosen by the patriarch, and that it was profaned by the ascription of a detestable name, so that, evidently, in place of the grace the emperor hoped to receive from partaking of this sacred gift, a stain of the contagion of an unspeakable crime might, as it were, be smeared upon him like some cursed superstition. Hearing these things, the emperor, ^D wishing to know by trial the truth of what was reported, sent at once the keeper of the bedchamber, the imperial Basil, who was learned in the letters of the Hagarenes, and he read both—

them, and reported to the Emperor that the business had been truly announced. As the dish was brought to the Emperor whilst he was dining, as was his custom, he would not have it served, as if from a religious fear of incurring guilt and out of a desire to obey the Apostolic mandate, which orders that he who recognizes that food set before him has been previously offered to an idol, should abstain from eating it for the sake of conscience. ^B Furthermore, on the following day, this new charge was added to the other accusations against the Patriarch, in a most odious manner as the greatest of all.

13. How the Patriarch Joanna renounced the throne.

Since, as I said, this accusation against the Patriarch had dragged on for two months and nothing was being accomplished—but rather it was all a mockery, an insult, and everything that could be called the worst, (for what could one hope for in the way of what is good and fair from people who even transformed the form of a ladder—which appeared in foreign letters, in a sort of painter's game of arboreal shapes of pleasant variety, drawn in a basin—into a terrible calumny, as if it were a foul sacrilege, the mere mention of which should lead one to proclaim the ultimate extermination of anyone accused of such a monstrous crime?)—since, I say, this trial was nothing but a petulant insult and an ignominious vilification of the Patriarch's name and reputation, and it was easy to see that the authors and abettors of this tumultuous accusation aimed at one thing: that he, being unable to bear such vexation and infamy, should, losing heart, renounce his seat and honor; ^C John, understanding this, in the middle [P. 312] of the Lenten fast in the month of March, ordered me, the writer of this history, to draft a formal letter of his abdication. When he had offered it to the Emperor, and the latter pretended not to accept it, he immediately withdrew and hid himself in the monastery of the Panachrantos. The Church was therefore widowed of her pastor, as he did not appear, and the Emperor was entirely unwilling to appoint another in his place. For among those whom he sent during that time to recall the Patriarch from that retreat and to urge him to return to his public office and his own duty, he ordered his own son and colleague in the empire, Andronicus, to go to him and try to entreat him.

14. Regarding the legates of the Pope and the Patriarch John.

While these things were happening, the legates sent from the Pope in Rome met the Emperor who was returning to Adrianople, before he had yet entered that city. He, for his part, was first of all eager to color the recent events regarding the Patriarch in the least odious way possible, and to obscure what could not be hidden by fictions, saying that the Patriarch, weighed down by the labors of his office, had withdrawn from the patriarchal palace for a time so that he might breathe more easily and refresh himself away from those labors; he would, however, be available for them to meet with him at certain monasteries in the city. He also sent men to Veccus ^D asking him to lay aside all pusillanimity, and to impute what had happened to the times rather than to his own will; he urged him not to refuse to go to the monastery of the Mangana to meet with the legates who would arrive there, and he prayed him not to reveal anything of what had recently occurred. Having thus prepared the Patriarch, the Emperor entered the city with the legates; and as he understood the purpose of that legation, he took care that they should not [come] with the synod and with the

^A be content with words alone regarding the peace of the Churches, but should show by their deeds that they likewise confessed the faith in accordance with them, and thus assure the union. For they were urged even to this, also by those among our own people who were, as one might say, schismatics—men who, by mixing mockery with many of the garrisons ^B among them, said that the peace was a farce, and that it must be tested whether they themselves also spoke of the Creed in this way. They thought that they would thereby lead the Emperor into anxieties, so that, by necessity, one of two things would happen: either, if he did not submit, the peace would be confounded; or, if he did transgress any of the established articles, he would sin the more grievously, and they themselves could strongly declare that they were still justly fleeing the union as one which had openly transgressed. The Emperor, having understood these things, and knowing that both those who had heard them suddenly and those who were hitherto maintaining the peace would be thrown into confusion, sent and called for the bishops and the entire clergy, and took them aside (for he had forbidden the laity to be present).

45. Assurance of the Emperor to those of the Church regarding the unreasonable demands of the legates.

"Things present," he said, "are as you surely know, since they have not been ^C allowed to occur without affecting me with such insensibility. For I know that I even overlooked the Patriarch—I mean Joseph—whom I loved equally with him who begot me, and even more, seeing that the one was the cause of my progress toward you, but the other was the cause of my return to what is better. And I forced many, and scandalized friends, and besides, I grieved our own people. Let those who are in custody be witnesses, who have suffered their present misfortune for no other reason than the matter acted upon with the Italians, and the disdain toward us, and the anger from us in turn. I had, therefore, intended to finish everything by my own reasoning, so that the Italians would seek nothing more; for I was making certain agreements with you, and the chrysobull ^D word in the Church will provide testimony for these words. But since some of our own—as I have learned, and especially those to whom schism is pleasing—I do not know what has come over them, unless one were to say this is a trial of us and a subversion of anxieties—by encountering garrisons somewhere on the other side, they have called the peace a mockery and a fraud, and have pushed them to seek more according to

^A a standard of proof; and this is the head of the embassy of superintendence. I wish, by first saying a little to you, to assure you, so that you might not be disturbed by hearing something suddenly, nor, by seeing again our handling of things regarding them, be cast into evil suspicions about us. For I myself, even if God be witness, for the sake of not relaxing any of our affairs—even to the very iota or tittle—I myself promise to insert that very divine Symbol of the Fathers into the standard, and to fight not only against the Italians, but also against every nation disputing these things. And this is the assurance which I give to you; ^B otherwise, to handle them and to send the envoys away with peace is, for me, no fault at all, nor for you an injustice in any way. I ask, therefore, that you also accept them in a friendly manner and greet them kindly, lest we might scare away the prey, as they say, and all the more so since a new Pope has been born, and one not as well-disposed to our affairs as Gregory was. From this point on, it shall be my concern, not having taken a deadline for deliberation, of the answer to them."

When the Emperor had said these things, the Patriarch stood at the monastery of the Mangana, and ^C thus his own affairs were arranged so that not even those who were sent to him were offered any knowledge of what had been done concerning him; and when the hierarchs and the notables of the clergy had gathered around him, the envoys also arrived. And as they set in motion the matters of the embassy, they were clearly putting forward those things which the Emperor had previously declared; for which reason, having already been prompted, they listened favorably, which things, had they not learned them beforehand, they would have heard with great displeasure.

16. How the envoys were sent to see those who were in custody.

The Emperor, therefore, to convince them that the peace was not a mockery, sent Isaac of Ephesus with the envoys to show them those who were detained in the public prisons. ^D These were the protostrator Palæologus Andronicus, the pincerna Raoul Manuel, his brother Isaacius, and the fourth, the protostrator’s nephew, Palæologus John; who, adorned in a rough way, one might say as a poet would, each occupied a corner of the square prison with heavy chains. Then the pincerna Raoul, seeing the Ephesian, and being as it were greatly distressed that he should live in ease and remission, while he himself and his companions were struggling with the miseries of a grim prison for an ecclesiastical cause, for which he himself, of course,

^A should rather have struggled than they. He stealthily gathers up the heavy volume of chains which he was wearing, and advancing as near as possible, and having gathered the links into a bundle, he casts it at him with the intention of striking him; and even though he missed, the chain—as he pulled it toward his own neck—returned to him with the bishop remaining unharmed.

17. How John was brought back to the patriarchal throne for the second time.

But the Emperor, having thereby pledged his faith to the envoys that he would act truthfully, puts above all else the necessity of bringing the Patriarch back again. For the request was not acceptable to the bishops, even if the Emperor were to receive it; but in any case, this request did not at all profess that he was unworthy of sacred affairs, but only [spoke of] noise and ^B senseless confusion from certain ones, and [the complaint] that, because of the damage to the consciences of some against these matters, he did not consider it right to wait, lest—as he says—some approach while against their conscience. But what could this have to do with a request for resignation? Unless it be to hinder it. Whence, by common deliberation, they judge that from the beginning the man should have received the oversight. But he did not obey, seeking vengeance for the calumniators. ^C This was also among the things impossible for the Emperor, who put forward as an excuse the senseless custom of the rulers, according to which it is decreed that, while the calumny is indeed to be dismissed and the victim of the calumny to be freed from danger, the calumniator is by no means to be punished, even if he were to invent the most extreme things; for it was deemed that the truth could not [otherwise] be learned by the Emperor, where it might happen that danger was attached to one who would not prove it. Therefore, since he was not achieving this, and was rather being urged to forgive the offense, bearing an imitation of Christ, he accepts the proposal; ^D and on the sixth of Poseideon, under a brilliant escort of both senators and ecclesiastics, of the same indiction, he is brought back. Then, having composed a letter of apology to the Pope (where Urban was then), with many signatures—there being neither bishops present nor bishoprics existing—by one and the same hand of the scribe, as if indeed

they were secured by many holy and great men. If it seemed to the Patriarch, I know not, but for the moment it certainly seemed to the Emperor, who was anxious to bring proofs regarding the union of the Churches from people who, according to them, were many and were bishops. For the bishops had been multiplied among them to such a degree that their synod could be counted in the many hundreds. This is why he wanted to make our numbers equal to theirs and resorted to this. By many other writings of our Fathers—those, for instance, which speak of the Holy Spirit "flowing forth," "being granted," "given," "shining out," "being manifested," and the like—they resolved the word regarding "procession," declaring also this, that "we subject to just penalties those who do not agree to peace." But this turned out to be a dream, and when they were accused of falsehoods, the apologies they offered did not dissolve the charge, but were recognized by those who knew as actually confirming it. And this was to be, for these wretches of the Church, a stumbling block later on, as they were accused of having declared the orthodox to be under anathema, and the letters written to the Pope at that time were to be cited as the surest witnesses of this—letters which, as they say, were very wise proofs. But how that was, at least as far as I know, it was otherwise, even if it was written so to the Pope according to a kind of sycophancy.

18.

Concerning Ignatius and Meletius, and how they were sent to the Pope.

That these sycophantic efforts were vain for them as well, Meletius and Ignatius showed. Though they were plainly breaking away from the Church and, having stood trial before the Emperor, were ordered to be led away to the Pope so as to suffer such and such, they were handed over to legates and were being taken away. But the Pope was so little concerned with punishing them that he even pitied them for standing in the way of the peace of the great Churches. And with all cheerfulness they were sent back to the Emperor, with the Pope requesting that he himself also, as a man thought by some to be holding firmly to the faith, should act with cheerfulness along with the Emperor in accordance with piety. So these letters, too, were in a like manner sycophantic. But in turn, the Latins themselves did not fail to flatter us in this matter, as appeared in the case of Meletius and Ignatius. For those who openly and publicly proclaimed themselves separated from the Church were condemned by the Emperor and handed over to the Pope to be punished by him with severe penalties—and they were delivered to the legates returning to Rome and were brought there at last. But the pontiff was so far from discerning any punishment for them that he even pitied them, because they were burdened with the odious suspicion that they wished to obstruct the peace between the great Churches. And so, with every token of benevolence, they were sent back to the Emperor, and they even returned with letters of recommendation from the Pope, in which he requested that men who were suspected without cause, and who appeared to be upright and safe...

[GREEK COLUMN] ^A ...and proceeding along a different path, so that many might acknowledge the proclamation. For inasmuch as some of the superfluous and shallow, who had no understanding at all of the affairs of the Church of the Latins, nor indeed did they deign to understand—how in times past they were at first more than others united, and even if some unexpected event had loosened the bond, still the mysteries of Christianity remained for us and for them unbroken; so that no one should dare to attempt any innovation regarding the completion of baptism and priesthood and marriage and the monastic state and the rest of the things by which the one and catholic Church brings up her own foster-children, but as if they were from the beginning from an oak or from a rock, knowing nothing of that which belongs to Christians and on account of these things turning away from them strangely, and regarding with abomination as holy things those of our own, and giving them over to precipices and rivers and mountains as being nothing worthy of honor, and from thence were hindering the things of the faith—the emperor takes up zeal, and calls all the bishops to himself and the monks, and also at times some of the schis- ^B matics, though they were illustrious for their safety, of whom one was the one in Phryganoi, Acacius, and his disciple Germanos and many others. And he stands in their midst, and beseeches them by the Ichnelata Parabolica, so that those who were setting upon them might not forestall these who were idle, as he also mentions many, having prefaced according to what was fitting, not to overlook religion in danger, nor through a guise of piety to account as nothing that which is betrayed and held in honor, but to defend in every way the institutions of the Church. [P. 318] For there is great pain, which by reason of some of those things not customary having slipped in by economy, an unavoidable necessity having befallen, they themselves, departing from the Church, not only do not keep that which seems good to them among themselves, but also dare to dissolve the laws of the Church, for whose audacious acts only one evil is lacking, not to confess that they are Christians. So that while this was present, they might have power to restrain [the schismatics] by the bond from the Church, by which they themselves also, being caught in fear, might abstain from that which is against their own bowels...

[LATIN COLUMN]

...[of] the path of religion, that he himself might also receive them gently and humanely and hold them by himself. And just as these things were acted and written flatteringly on the part of the Latins, so also were those, which I have mentioned, the letters given by our side to the Pope, not devoid of the dye of flattery, professing evidently that there was no longer acknowledged anyone who held the Latins or those adhering to them as excommunicated, and if anyone in the future should be detected daring to do this, he would not suffer it with impunity, although it was known to many that there were not wanting those who thought thus and openly said anathema to those embracing peace. These were certain unnecessarily morose persons and superstitious in their delicate distastes, who, although they were ignorant and cared not to learn the affairs of the Church of the Latins, namely that they had formerly been united with them even most intimately in the principal dogmas and mysteries of the Greeks—and although I know not what then happened to have loosened for a little while that bond of ancient concord—yet even afterwards there remained on both sides an inviolate consensus in faith and in the use of the capital sacraments of Christianity, so that in no place had anything been rashly attempted by public counsel concerning the rite of baptism, the priesthood, the marriage, the monastic state, and the remaining mysteries by which the one and catholic Church was accustomed to initiate her children. When, I say, these people knew no more of these things, which had long been current in the republic of the Christians, than if they were oak stumps or stone masses, and were carried by that very ignorance into a haughty contempt, they not only violently turned away from the Latins themselves, but our sacred things themselves, after peace had been confirmed, as if polluted and profaned by the admission and fellowship of the Latins, they did not fear to execrate, to devote to curses, and (as were their blasphemous voices) to be thrown and destroyed by precipices and rivers and the pathless desolate regions of the mountains, as if they were no longer keeping the ^C dignity of ancient religion, but were rather rushing with the imitation of those hastening impatiently in their business than applying a delaying cessation for those giving space for a maturity to be cooked—the projects of those proceeding slowly to late successes. Having thus entered upon his speech, he besought all who were present not to despise religion in danger, nor to endure to see idly without care of helping, while by a pretense of piety the most holy things were being betrayed. For to whom, rightly disposed toward the Church, would not the rash petulance of certain men bring grave sorrow, who, not bearing to be introduced to anything into use beyond the custom, although that [innovation] was done through a prudent accommodation for urgent causes, break out into savage movements, rebelling against the Church; and they do not wish to bear this fury even silently and conceived in their mind without hiding it from the conscience of men, but they do not hesitate to break the laws of the Church openly, for one thing only is lacking to whose audacity—that they might confess they are not Christians. Since they neither dare nor can deny this, by that very bond of ecclesiastical conjunction, by which they still acknowledge themselves to be held, we ought to understand that there is conferred to us the force and authority to restrain them fully by our power, so that, even repressed by fear, they may cease to [thrust] a sword [into the] bowels of their own mother the Church, as if some factional...

desire to act impiously ^A were leading them. These things were then being put forward to the emperor: not to publicly denounce men who were securing themselves, nor even that, but to curb wickedness as it advanced beyond what was expected. Since many of those who were annoyed by that peace were present there and cast their votes for the curse upon those who insulted the sacred things. A testimony to what is being said is that, of the many and great men who were completing that assembly, no one hesitated, no one spoke against it, no one broke away, nor even showed an inclination of wavering. But it was necessary to be sure, if Christians were thus to be publicly denounced so wantonly. But in truth, that which was done there was a problem of piety, so that not everything could be dared by the one who first presented himself to some, but also so that the curse might be a matter of consideration for those who piously approach sacred things. But so much for these matters. ^B

40. Again concerning Lachanas, and how he was killed by Nogai.

In the same year, since it was not to be expected that Lachanas would remain quiet after having been ousted from the royal city of Ternobon and his queenly wife, he gathered a sufficiently large army and sat down to besiege the people of Ternobon. Asan was still remaining within that city, holding with himself Tzasimpaxin, who served him in the office of protostrator, whom the emperor had formerly honored with the same title, though he was then well-disposed toward Asan. Throughout that siege, the Romans were worn down by great disasters at the hands of Lachanas. For, in the first place, about ten thousand of our own soldiers, who were coming to the aid of the besieged under the leadership of the protovestiarios Mourinos, having encamped at the place called Diabaina, were attacked by Lachanas with a few men; and on the seventeenth day of the month of Anthesterion, having joined battle, he defeated them with great force and wrought much slaughter, some in the battle, and others whom he captured himself and later cruelly slaughtered. Again, a little later, on the fifteenth of Poseideon, ^C he fell upon those surrounding the protovestiarios Aprenos near the outer pass, who were leading about five thousand fighting men, and he killed them as well as Nogai. ^D

And once Asan had departed, and Terteres was reigning there, Lachanas decided to flee to Nogai and implore his help. Elsewhere...

the Emperor, not being neglectful of Bulgarian affairs, sent Asan to the same Nogai with many gifts, requesting in the strongest terms that he should not allow the legitimate king of the Bulgarians, who relied upon his hereditary right of birth, to be destitute of help—especially since he was bound to Nogai by a sort of fraternal necessity, as the wives of Asan and Nogai were sisters; therefore, he ought not to be loath to assist a man joined to him by such close affinity, when he was in need of his aid to recover a principality that had been unjustly taken away. Nogai had already received Lachanas, who had come earlier, in a humane manner, and he also kindly admitted Asan when he arrived later. However, while he accepted the gifts of both, he heaped an immense and wearying trouble upon them by detaining them both for a long time and leading them around with him wherever he went. ^B The sole aim of both embassies was to obtain assistance against Terteres, their common enemy, from whom they were fighting—not least against each other, as they laid out the foundations of their legal right to the Bulgarian kingdom. They pleaded their cases as if before a judge, yet he (Nogai) listened in such a way that he never delivered a judgment, but suspended them on an endless delay, selling himself back and forth to each, promising one, then the other, while they, however unwilling, were slaves to his whims. Finally, he sat them down for a feast, and as the drinking went deep into the night and they were filled with wine and their judgment was led astray, Nogai, suddenly waking as if from sleep, and remembering those disputes—for he had Asan sitting beside him, and Lachanas with his protostrator Tzasimpaxis below them, though they were opposite one another ^C —gave orders to his men as casually as if he intended to do nothing at all, that they should seize Lachanas where he lay. While they did this, he said, "This man is the enemy of the Emperor my father, and is utterly unworthy to be allowed to live." Hearing this, they seized the unhappy man from both sides, thrust a knife into his throat, and killed him right there as he fell. Immediately, his wild command was repeated against Tzasimpaxis, who was watching from the opposite side; he was struck on the neck by the hand of a guardsman and slaughtered with an axe. Struck with terror at this tragic spectacle, Asan feared greatly for himself, and not without cause, for he would have suffered a similar fate had he not, through the intercession and efforts of Euphrosyne, been saved and allowed to depart safe a little while later. And these events happened in this manner.

20. How the Emperor Andronicus campaigned in the East

The Emperor, having learned that affairs in the East were crumbling—for ever since the despot John had been taken from the world, the Persians had gained such confidence that they did not hesitate to invade the Romans at will, and they were devastating their territories by widespread incursions—saw that the regions around the Maeander, Caria, and Antioch had already been lost. And even the areas within these were severely debilitated and lying in ruins, desperately needing the help of a healing savior. Places near the Cayster and Priene were being plundered.

The Milesian territory and Magedon, and the regions bordering these, were in total destitution of any guard and were being wiped out by the injuries of enemies. When the Augustus reflected on these things, he resolved that he must send his son and colleague in the empire, Andronicus, there with as many troops as were available throughout the eastern provinces. Having therefore set out with the Augusta, he restored the situation there, having with him, among many other dignitaries, the Great Domestic Michael Tarchaniotes (whom they used to call Palæologus, deriving his name from his mother, and whom they later promoted to the rank of Protovestiarius), and Nostongus, the warden of the Great Seal, and with them very many of those who hold the ministries of the palace. The Emperor Andronicus, while traveling along the Mæander, saw the city of Tralles, once a very great city, but then laid low, and, captivated by the advantages of the location and the pleasing charm of the place, he conceived the purpose of restoring it and populating it by bringing back in the aftermath those citizens who had long ago been extirpated, and by adding others from wherever possible to complete the just number of a great city. ^B He decided to give the restored city a new name from himself, so that it would henceforth be called not Tralles, but Andronicopolis or Palæologopolis. He therefore applied the greatest zeal to this, and having appointed the Great Domestic to oversee this work, he ordered him to rebuild it with the utmost speed. And just as the work began to show promise and the structure was rising, a chance discovery among the ruins—an oracle inscribed on marble, suggesting that some person would arise to restore this city and bring it back to a better state of fortune and happiness than before—increased his eagerness even more. These tokens seemed to point to this new restorer of the ruined city of Tralles, which seemed to apply conveniently to Andronicus, so that it was not thought doubtful that these very events which were then being carried out were the true realization of that prophecy; and therefore the prince who was present was clearly the very one whose more auspicious leadership those prophetic letters promised would restore it to a more flourishing fortune than ever before. Hence, naturally encouraged, Andronicus was tireless in pressing on the work, ^C enticed especially by the hope of the vast expanse of life and reign that seemed to be promised there by divine providence to the restorer after the restoration of Tralles. Therefore the work was carried out with the greatest haste, and the building of such a great city was completed in a short time. But that inscription was a mockery and a dream: for it was in truth destined by fate, as events later demonstrated, that many thousands of mortals—who had recently fixed their homes there—would perish miserably, as we shall presently teach. For as the walls were erected all around, a great city arose once more from the ruins, situated on the bank of the Mæander as it flowed peacefully by. Furthermore, so that it would not flourish in fame only by its structures for the new founder, it was of course necessary that it be populated by summoning a great number of colonists. This was taken care of with the greatest dedication, with such success that in a short time the multitude of citizens recently brought there was reckoned at thirty-six thousand souls. These all, keen with the best hopes, since they were promising the most auspicious omens, celebrated the inaugural festivities of their new habitation, unaware that they lacked the most necessary thing. ^D For they had not prepared cisterns, nor reservoirs for water, either excavated by hand and constructed all around and reinforced with a sturdy coating to collect water from the sky when it rained, or for drawing it from the river for domestic uses and for the provisions of uncertain times of year. The cause of this neglect was, if they had paid attention, necessary, for the nature of that soil was devoid of veins of water flowing underground, so that

^A to the greatest extent, it was not natural for water to settle at any depth. This proved the ruin of most of those who settled there. For they were content for a time to drink from the river, and failing to foresee the future, they lived without care. They were ignorant, then, that Prometheus is much better than Epimetheus, and that which happens by necessity has no room for counsel.

21. How the Tralles, having been rebuilt, were captured by the Persians.

They were therefore in this state, and, relying upon such favorable hopes, lived as citizens differently from the rest of the Emperor's subjects, when a multitude of Persians came upon them; for the zeal of those who resist tends to act against what is expected and to stand on behalf of the rest. And Salpacis—whom their language would call a brave man—Mantachias by name, exulting much in his numbers, attacks the city and lays siege to it. The great general and chartoularios Livadarios was in every kind of difficulty, while those inside were starving and suffering still more from the ^B scarcity [P. 323] as far as possible, and it was not natural for water to settle at any depth. This proved the ruin of most of those who settled there. For they had been content for a time to drink from the river, and failing to foresee the future, they lived without care. They were ignorant, then, that Prometheus is much better than Epimetheus, and that which happens by necessity has no room for counsel.

21. How the Tralles, having been rebuilt, were captured by the Persians.

For the new Trallians, in that congratulation of happy auspices, promising themselves golden ages (for what would they not presume in hope, of the Junior Augustus, in whose favor they were to be forever, as special clients and citizens, from the moment he began his long and flourishing reign?), there came upon them, behold, a most unexpected army of Persians, whom the very same causes that had moved Andronicus to found this colony were now driving to oppose its beginnings; for just as he had wished this to be a bridle on the license to plunder and a repository for forces looming over the disasters of Persia in that vicinity, so they, fearing exactly this, judged that they must apply themselves with every effort in good time to shake off this yoke as if it were placed upon their necks, and to remove a certain destruction from their border. Therefore, a certain Mantachias, by surname Salpacis—which in the Persian tongue sounds "brave"—with the countless men whom he led,

^A approached and, finding that they were touching upon things forbidden, and that, being in distress for water, they were searching for some kind of liquid mechanism, they began to drain the blood by constantly cutting the veins of their horses. But from this source the entirety of their thirst could not be assuaged, and they died ever more frequently. For against the famine they held out even more; there were available to them the bodies of the dying beasts of burden, and, as these too died often, they were in such straits of necessity that they even resorted to them. But for the thirst, which was even more violent, there was no remedy to be devised—and this while the meridian sun was scorching. Whence, they even went over of their own accord to the enemy, deeming every manner of death more tolerable than that by famine and thirst; and, as they pressed their parched lips toward them in the hope of finding mercy, they were pierced and fell unburied, not even deemed worthy of a tomb. As for the Persians, even against those who still held out within (for they hoped that help or at least some succor from their calamity would arrive from somewhere), they devised the most cruel measures; many of the shield-bearers, ^B by bringing up their bucklers, clung to the walls. These, even when pelted from above with stones, ignored the projectiles; for it was merely the clatter that seemed formidable to them, while from below they were undermining with levers and crowbars. This having occurred in many places, they would undermine the foundations of the wall, and the superincumbent structure of the buildings was propped up with wooden timbers, and there was nothing left but to set fire to them so that they would not hold out even for a little while. And indeed, having many times wished to persuade the city by terms of surrender—as they also sent messengers to demand it, and to save those who remained—they were rebuffed; upon which, those they had plotted against were captured by battle and cast down, and that city—which formerly relied upon oracles and hung upon glowing hopes—was razed to the ground, and that entire multitude, not easily numbered, was made the work of the sword. This, the second success for the Persians after the first one at Nyssa, in which the keeper of the seal, Nostongus, had involved himself and those with him in the greatest evils, so that after the slaughter of some and the capture of others, he himself was also taken, greatly emboldened them, and they ravaged the eastern regions more powerfully. The young emperor, meanwhile, was staying at Nymphaeum, being prepared in stages to meet his father. ^C

XXII. How the Porphyrogenitus Constantine is sent to the Western regions.

The Emperor, wishing to instruct the Porphyrogenitus Constantine, who was brother to the young emperor, in how to ^D

proceed in military arts and experience, took the pretext of a certain movement among the Triballi to send him on an expedition. This movement had progressed so far that a certain Cotanitza, having defected from the emperor, was reported to be making incursions into the regions subject to the empire as far as Serres, causing devastation and havoc. Constantine, therefore, acting on the command of his father, moved into the West; his father assigned to him many men of primary dignity, and many great companions of his military power and ministers of his authority. The Augustus himself, however, having discovered once more through sure reports that the East—as far as it extends around the Sangaris region, from its mouth back as far as Prusa—was being endangered and vexed, immediately prepared himself as best he could with the forces available, crossed the Bosphorus, and pitched his tents at the roots of the hill of Saint Auxentius. There he remained, awaiting the army of the Western frontier, which was in the meantime assembling at designated locations, so that once joined there with the emperor, it might accompany him on the expedition.

While he was dwelling there, petitions were brought to him from Joseph, who, as has been said, was living in exile on the island of Chele. From there, he requested to be transferred, citing the inclemency of the weather there during the winter; having already spent one winter there, and knowing its severity from experience, he asserted he was certain he could not survive another winter there with his life intact. Thus, he argued, to be forced to remain there was no milder a fate than to be killed. The Augustus consented to these pleas, and immediately summoned the old man to stay with him in his tents, during the month of Maimakterion [June]. He deemed his welcome guest worthy of his former benevolence, treating him with the greatest humanity, visiting him often during the day, and listening gladly to the requests he made; and thus, it came to pass that many were then able to obtain from the emperor through his intervention what they desired. ^A He also assigned to him a more comfortable place to dwell, which he might use henceforth, namely, the monastery of Cosmidion. ^B By these tokens, the elder was won over, and he dealt with the Augustus peacefully and in a friendly manner. With grievances forgotten, he lived with the Emperor on terms of equal familiarity, to such an extent that in a certain conversation of this kind between them, the Emperor said jokingly to the old man that he wished to restore him to the patriarchal see; to which Joseph, smiling in return, replied that he was ready for this, provided that what had already been done were revoked. But those matters had already coalesced into such firmness that they could not be rescinded at that time. Indeed, upon the news of the creation of the new Pope, Nicholas, the Emperor, intent upon binding the pacts more strongly, dispatched other legates to him. He then sent the domestic of the Church, Mandas—or Mercurius—to the regions of Apulia, trusting that he would be unharmed on account of the favor which the Emperor was known to hold with the Pope. And because he understood that ecclesiastical matters could be more effectively managed through pontifical favor, he made use of him for the handling of matters of state rather than secular ones. Yet, this hope did not entirely fail him in this regard; for when King Charles had taken Mandas prisoner and placed him in custody, the Pope, having been informed that he who had been cast into prison was a chanter of the Church, immediately saw to it that he was released and set free. ^C In this way, the emperor was greatly occupied with cementing that peace, even if it was colored over and not genuinely coalesced. Therefore, the discourses brought against it by Joseph—who held his former favor with the prince, restored by a new reconciliation, to such a degree that, having been restored to his former familiarity, he was also provided with a more convenient lodging according to his wishes—found no place with the emperor. ^D

23. How Veccus, writing for a certain cause, also stirred up controversy over the dogmas.

As for the patriarch Veccus, he could not keep himself [from...]

^A strictly within the bounds of the agreements by which he had voluntarily bound himself to that preeminent man, the Great Oikonomos of the Church, Theodore Xiphilinus, promising that he would not write or contradict regarding dogmas, whatever others might say. For since he received daily new writings from his opponents, in which they invidiously exaggerated the crime of having communicated with the Latins—which they contended was nothing less than a nefariously apostasy, thinking they demonstrated this by the specific testimonies of Scripture which they cited, and further maintained that those very people were in a false and perverse security, by which they acquiesced through an error of a deceived conscience in an impious act as if it were right and laudable—he found himself inflamed with anger and the hatred of others on account of that blindness of soul, whereby, not knowing the evils in which they were entangled, they were pleased with themselves. Since, I say, he saw many libels of this opinion appearing and being scattered among the populace, he was at length drawn to write, and to demonstrate from the testimonies of authoritative writers that neither he nor those who followed his side had erred in all that they had done hitherto for the sake of reconciling the Churches, but that, even if no account were taken of the immense benefits which redounded to the whole commonwealth from this reconciliation, the concord itself was most honorable and remote from any danger of wounding the conscience, for its equity and holiness were egregiously commended and proven by the authorities of the ancient Fathers and by the most weighty testimonies of sacred antiquity of every kind.

The Great Church once held in honor as its chartophylax him who later, as archbishop of the great city of Thessalonica, was enriched ^A with five books exploring the divine Scriptures on behalf of the peace of the Churches. Having used these as a kind of foundation, Veccus wove together the greater part of his work. While he wished to strike at the target of the things written by those men, nevertheless, moved by a gluttonous appetite for the Scriptures, he investigated more diligently, and directed everything toward that first target of his, as if he were managing matters safely. Yet he did not limit his arguments to those that were manifest, but, searching also into those that were not suitable, to which a reasonable contradiction was attached, he suffered the same thing as those who are infirm of stomach; for when they have taken food that is useful and easy of digestion, they subsequently heap upon it things that are not wholesome, drawn by the greed of a gaping throat, whence, having contracted nausea, they vomit up the beneficial nourishment together with the harmful.

What resulted from this? A struggle at an inopportune time and a contention were set in motion; the essence of the struggle was that dogmas were brought forward. O ^B miserable men, was it forbidden to you to use these dogmas, and to go into the house of the Lord, and—to say the same thing—to speak of dogmas, whatever you might say? Yet it was not allowed for others to remember these dogmas when defending ^C themselves. ^D

^A Was it a terrible thing to provide constant kindling for strife? I do not think so. Nevertheless, some carried the accusation even to the imperial ears, and promised that there would be peace if the emperor would explicitly command that no one speak of any dogmas, no matter what they might say or how. Yet the emperor, wishing for peace between them, but disapproving of the request, issued dogmas in writing, seeming to secure that which they sought, but otherwise presenting a test for them. For he said that God should be remembered more often than one should breathe. A dogma, therefore, is the memory of God. He nevertheless commanded that any deviation from the Scriptures be strictly forbidden. Yet the patriarch was not freed from the reasons for ^B the conflict; desiring to suddenly soften a matter hardened by the passage of most long ages, and that while the emperor directed the greatest punishments toward those who rebelled. It would have been wiser, therefore, if he had remained silent and borne the accusation meekly; for it was less of an evil. By flaming up at every contradiction, and by providing new fuel to the strife already burning more than enough of itself, he ignited contentions that would eventually erupt into something ruinous for him. For he could not dispute so many things with such caution that he did not provide handles to his adversaries, which they, in turn, seizing upon, later brought no light damages upon him and his followers.

Then, upon learning of Joseph's arrival, and furthermore knowing that the Bishop of Ephesus was constantly with the emperor, he entered into not groundless suspicions that it was easy for these men to move something against him. He devised this method to forestall the danger: he wrote to the Ephesian, and to win him over by the very address, he styled him not simply "Most Holy"—the title usually attributed to bishops—but "All-Holy" ^C at the head of the letter. Then, in the letter itself, he begged him again and again not to be burdened to obtain for him the opportunity of meeting with the Emperor, promising to heap benefit upon him if he would endeavor to have the emperor himself invite him. Certainly, he should act effectively so that he might agree to allow him to come to him at least in a placid manner. He would be indebted to him for his great favor for all time if he accomplished this wish according to his desire. The Ephesian, having received the letter, resolved to persist diligently in the simulation of friendship. Although, therefore, it was by no means hidden to his close associates how much an arcane offense against Veccus for recent deeds burned deep within his soul, he nevertheless approached the emperor, and having explained the patriarch's desire, he persuaded him to grant what he wanted. As for the aversion of the Ephesian toward Veccus ^D

^A it was not agreeable in that way; rather, unless he could demonstrate that the previous ones had strayed from the Scriptures, they would not accept peace with them, nor could they endure to live. Hence he convened frequent synods, and invited many from outside, and unrolled books, and set forth many others, demonstrating, as he held, that the peace possessed security, and he was very eager to pry into the most part. For it was necessary that Damascene, and the divine Maximus, and furthermore the divine Tarasius—or, to say the same thing, the entire seventh synod—since all of them also subscribed to his confession which had been sent to the Easterners, and through that addition therein to such a confession: for we are taught by them to say that it proceeds from the Father through the Son; it was necessary, therefore, that this ought to be brought forward instead, and he himself, as far as that addition was concerned, ^B both to be healed and to heal, and to attempt nothing contrary to the interpretations. But he collected many [passages] of the Scriptures. And having found the great Basil [concerning the Son] with the ‘from’ [regarding] the ‘through’—attempting to adapt them as if the prepositions were interchangeable, as in [the verse] ‘I have acquired a man through God’—

I judge it worth the effort to explain the causes here more distinctly. There were, indeed, other incentives for this hatred not known to many; but the main and most incurable point among them, and one that stood out most of all, was that both the Ephesian himself and very many other bishops who felt the same way, driven by great evils to embrace peace, had consented to it only to that extent: that, putting aside the consideration of the dogma and with nothing at all changed in the writings and ^C decrees—the time for questioning or discussing which anew they denied—they might maintain peace outwardly with the Latins, believing that, with their duty to the faith and religion unimpaired, they could consent to it for the sake of the accommodation necessary for the times, examples of which they had in the histories of the ancient Church. They believed, I say, that only in this way could they with a safe conscience admit the communion of the Latins, not as a thing acceptable in itself or in every way accurate to the rules of the faith, but as something that could be prudently tolerated for fear of greater evils; and that it should be commended and considered good, not as it was viewed in itself, but—to speak as masters of the art of rhetoric—comparatively, insofar as it was compared with the greater goods that would arise from this. Thus, they held, Paul had shaved his head and used other Jewish purification rites; thus by him Timothy was circumcised; thus the third synod refrained from excommunicating Theodore of Mopsuestia; thus before this the great Basil had accepted ^D the gifts brought to the Church by Valens; and thus we find other things of this kind in the primary records of historical events, not to pursue each one individually. Thus, therefore, did they accept the peace recently ratified, so that they might acknowledge that sin was seen in it by those who judged the matter by itself, and regarding the duty of religion by which we are ordered to reject the communion of those who stray from the faith, and would determine it severely and by cutting the matter to the quick. But this exception did not please Veccus, but unless he could demonstrate and prove from certain, as he believed, testimonies of authentic writers that the ancients had erred in rejecting the communion of the Latins, he did not consider his life to be worth living. Whence he convened frequent synods, and summoned many from the outside also, and unrolled old books, and published many new ones, moving every stone to prove that all could and ought, with every security of conscience, to adhere to this peace as one good and just in itself; and he left nothing undone in this for the sake of extreme contention, indulging in zeal intemperately. For when Veccus should have been content with what Damascene, and the divine Maximus, and over these the divine Tarasius also—or, what is the same thing to say, the seventh ecumenical synod, whose Fathers all followed the prerogative of the same Tarasius and subscribed to the confession on this article which had been sent to the Orientals—had handed down; since from these, while they explain the dogma itself on the occasion of the addition inserted into such a profession, we are taught to say that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father through the Son—since, I say, Veccus should have utilized the words which our Fathers used in explaining this mystery, making the addition of the Latins accord with them as far as he could, and purging or diminishing his own and their ill-will by excusing them, he on the contrary, wandering outside the limits of the undertaken discussion with the subtleties of declarations, gathered many passages of ancient writers; among which, having found that [passage of] the great Basil regarding that which is said of the Son, [he treated] the "from" and the "through" as if they were interchanging ones, as if these prepositions were equivalently mutable one for the other, as is proven by these authorities of Scripture,>

^A *Possedi hominem per Deum*, that is, "from" God, and *Factum ex muliere*, that is, "through" a woman, so that the divine Apostle might not be thought to have insinuated that heresy in which Christ is imagined to have passed through the Virgin as if through a conduit. Bringing together these and many similar things from all sides every day, he was blending the "from" into the "through," and by this means supposedly curing the "from."

Having found the utterance of the divine Damascene which calls the Father the emitter of the enuntiatory Spirit through the Word, and taking "emitter" as equivalent to "cause," he was not indeed calling the Son the cause of the Spirit, but he confessed the Father to be the cause of the Spirit through the Son, since the Father is likewise called the emitter, or rather the cause, of the Spirit through the Word. Some did not accept this statement as a spurious offspring of Father Damascene, but others, even while accepting it, would change "emitter" into "provider," ^B and did not interpret the enuntiation as implying eternal existence, but as an eternal manifestation.

Yet such things provided grounds for great scandals for those who came later, just as did the utterance of Father Gregory of Nyssa, which advances according to distinction and speaks thus: that we believe the one thing to be the cause, and the other to be from the cause, of which ^C again we conceive another difference: for the one is immediately from the first, while the other is through the mediation of the Son, which continuously is from the first, by which mediation the Son both guards for Himself the property of being the Only-Begotten and does not cut off the Spirit from the relation of the Father. The Patriarch was putting forward these things, showing that the mediation of the Son of necessity introduces the "through," and that through this he allowed the "from" of the Latins, as if the prepositions were substitutable for one another.

But those around the Bishop of Ephesus and Meletius of Athens and very many others were scandalized, ^D thinking it a greater evil to move and recall into dispute doctrines once established than they could themselves agree to, although for the sake of anticipating grave evils they had accommodated their consciences to admit that lesser fault, whereby they felt bound to make peace with those who erred in divine doctrines. But Meletius was even very free-spoken, so that one day, after he had declaimed much upon this argument in the synod, he ordered his attendant, having taken up his mantle and girded himself for a journey, to be ready to follow him as if he were prepared to depart into exile immediately for this cause. The Bishop of Ephesus behaved more moderately out of respect for the Emperor, before whom he foresaw he would cause offense if he were seen to set stumbling blocks and causes of turmoil before those who, in good faith, were acquiescing to the agreements. Yet he himself was inwardly chafing, suffering most grievously with his own party at what was being done by Veccus; and it was apparent that they would not hesitate to attempt, if they could, to remove him from the patriarchal see by clandestine arts.

^A

24. How the patriarch went to the mount of Saint Auxentius; and concerning the acts of the emperor there.

Then, on the twelfth of the month of Anthesterion [July], we crossed the Bosporus and proceeded directly to the emperor, being received as guests along the way at the monastery of Lychnia. From there we associated with the emperor daily. What was being done by him at that time is worth writing of with tears rather than with ink. For the emperor, raging with fierce and disordered thoughts and suspecting everyone—I know not for what reason, unless that he wished to appear, or to be seen, as anxious on his own behalf and on behalf of his own supposed religion—was acting dreadfully, complaining most unjustly that he was being dealt with wickedly by those who, although they omitted no effort or contention in seeking and holding to the straight path of divine worship and sound doctrine, were nonetheless accused of perverting the faith through the greatest calumny. Hence, having sent out his guards, he brought forth from prison those noble men whom we mentioned previously: the brothers of the Raul family, Manuel and Isaac, and a third, John of the Cantacuzenus family (for the protostrator Andronicus had already died in prison), and brought them before himself as condemned men. For many days he vexed them with most bitter words and with the most severe insults and torments. Finally, since they would not submit to the will of the potentate, he ordered that Manuel, and then Isaac also, be deprived of their eyes. ^B This cruel punishment was inflicted on these two alone, for the Cantacuzenus (John), being confined separately from them and terrified by the threats, had given his submission—he would undoubtedly have suffered what those two suffered had he not purchased his safety and the use of his light with his obedience. They two, therefore, alone bore the glory of an unconquered constancy, acting and suffering on behalf of the ancestral customs, which no one else would have dared to do or undergo.

But before they were blinded, with very free voices they reproached the patriarch himself to his face: that they had believed he would credit what they had learned from him at that time when he spoke from his own heart, when he tolerated punishments and bonds for that faith; but that they were unwilling to believe what he now taught, corrupted as he was by ambition, having obtained the patriarchate as the price of his changed opinion. ^C Beneath this, one day saw those whom a single womb had brought forth deprived of their light; and those whom the bond of brotherhood and the cause of their suffering had joined were dragged far apart from each other—Manuel being relegated to Cenchreae, by the Scamander, and there shut up and guarded in a squalid castle, destitute of human cultivation; and the other led away elsewhere.

After this, another spectacle was given, also bitter to behold. John, son of the despot Michael, whom his mother had once brought from the Western parts to Constantinople as a hostage for the emperor at the time the treaty was struck, and whom the emperor had later made son-in-law to the sebastokrator Tornikios (although he himself, averse to his wife, led his life apart from her), the emperor caused to be brought in chains from Nicaea. For there, as a general of the army, he had achieved success and was glorified by many trophies over the Persians, upon which he had incurred the suspicion of aspiring to the empire, since no other arguments persuaded the ruler of this than the man's success in war and the fact that he was accustomed to bringing him fame among the people in a way that excited envy. ^D This suspicion was fueled in the emperor by the fact that he had heard that the monk Theodore Cotyn [would hold] frequent and long [meetings] with him, hidden from observers by day and by night...

This Cotyn had formerly been a layman; having learned of the experience of the man who was at that time the Grand Conostaulos, whom the emperor had wished to blind, he had come to him, warned him out of friendship, and fled with him into Persia. ^A Since the emperor—who at that time aspired to the throne—happened to recall that this man had (as events subsequently proved, not falsely) predicted this success for him, he supposed that he must have engaged in some such discussion with John, and that this was the subject of those secret conversations between them. He therefore ordered that Cotyn be arrested and brought before him.

The public accusation against John was that he had spoken disparagingly of the Porphyrogenitus. It was rumored that, when an order had been conveyed to John from the emperor to wage war against the Persians, he had replied, not without an ironic sting: “Let the Porphyrogenitus come by order of his father, and he shall successfully execute whatever is commanded.” Regarding this, John was questioned in broad daylight. But there was another, nightly interrogation concerning him, in which the emperor most curiously sought to extort some conjecture that might confirm the suspicion that especially troubled his mind—namely, that John was aspiring to the imperial power. ^B Since John could not be convicted of such a crime by anything other than the testimony of Cotyn, the emperor pressed the latter with grave threats to confess the truth, warning him that if he did not, he would subject him to the cruelest torments, and he continued most insistently to demand what in the world he had discussed during those long and frequent conversations with John.

To this, Cotyn replied that the reason he was constantly with John and spoke with him frequently was a bond of intimacy established between them. He also added that their business involved the sale of a piece of land that had come to Cotyn by paternal inheritance, which was called the “Old Woman’s Spring.” As for the eventual succession to the empire, he affirmed most strenuously that he had no more memory or knowledge of any mention or discussion having been made of it than one might have of the affairs of the Antipodes. The emperor, being in no way persuaded by these things, wished furthermore to investigate the physician Perdiccas, to see if he could extract anything from him—since it was established that he, too, had long lingered with John—by which the suspicion he had conceived might be corroborated. ^C He therefore ordered him also to be handed over to custody.

Cotyn, meanwhile, he handed over to the Celts to be hanged and driven by dire torments to reveal what he was hiding. But as he was being bound for the hanging, he collapsed, lifeless from fear; and this piteous burden was taken away and committed to the earth, with no one watching. Yet this desperate outcome did not benefit John. For already, by way of a certain prejudice, he had been disgraced, for the head-covering—which was an insignia of high dignity usually granted to the foremost men—had been stripped from him, which the emperor had previously bestowed upon him. The emperor acted immediately, handing over the same John to the Prefect of the Imperial Bedchamber to be taken to Damatrys and blinded there, instructing him that he should conceal as cautiously as possible throughout the whole journey what he was about to do there. ^D Before this was carried out, Michael the Despot pleaded most insistently that the grace of such a dire punishment be granted to his brother. He sought the support of the Augusta with lowest entreaties; he sought the support of both the old and new patriarchs, and of any men whose reputation for holiness made it understood that they might have some influence in persuading the ruler. Nor did they refuse the duty or perform it sluggishly. But however much effort they exerted, they achieved absolutely nothing. When

^A the earth at midday was shaken by an earthquake, Perdiccas, it is reported, said that he did not marvel that the earth should quake, but that the mountain nearby did not collapse upon those who were doing such things. For this remark, he suffered the penalty of the cutting off of his nose. And another, because he had embraced with affection a youth who was a relative of his from long-standing acquaintance, suffered the mutilation of his nostrils for this sign of affection toward the boy.

It must also be told what happened to George Pachymeres, a man of letters, outstanding in his craft and otherwise honorable. He had recently been working at Heraclea Pontica, serving the prefect Michael Strategopoulos. Since he was prevented by the prefect's public duties from performing his task during the day, he had mostly been holding his classes at night. The emperor, having heard this, interpreted it atrociously; he suddenly relieved Michael of his command, reduced him to the ranks, and summoned him to himself to stand trial for aiming at the throne. The sentence of the wretch was not delayed; the punishment of blinding was decreed and was to be carried out immediately, had not the Empress, through unremitting entreaties and the utmost contention—for she was his niece—with difficulty obtained a postponement of the punishment.

The anger directed against Pachymeres, however, knew no bounds. Because of the fame of his learning, when this was compared with those nightly congresses which had been reported, the highly suspicious prince became convinced that he was one of those hunters of future omens who are accustomed to scouring hidden books and, with bold conjectures, sell to inquisitive seekers the fates of empires and the lines of succession. There existed also another fuel for hatred, not known to many: a horror derived from the omen of the name. For the emperor, himself also a greedy seeker of prophecies, had heard some murmuring or other whereby the name of Pachomius was being entwined with the fatal web of his own destruction ^B. He, as a good interpreter of prophecies later explained, not clearly understanding to what end it tended or where it pointed, and fearing it uncontrollably, snatched at the conviction that this Pachomius was portended to succeed him in the empire. Believing this truly to be avoided by every means, he seized that unfortunate man and rendered him unfit for the empire by the savage gouging out of his eyes.

Nor did the more wretched man, even so, having been dragged into a cruel crime by his own blind hopes, avoid the impending calamity—or rather, he provoked it—which awaited him not long afterward in Macedonia, in the field called "of Pachomius," for the punishment of this and other crimes. Meanwhile, the most wretched Pachomius, blinded and deprived of the light of his literary profession, was no longer able to foresee things to come by the indication of secret books, to the point that he could not even discern present things, and he could not avoid colliding with those he met while walking unless he was warned by others, to the wonderment of all who saw1 this, even up to the schoolmasters, men totally removed from the ranks of the kingdom, who did not deign to descend into the suspicions of one who was fiercely emulating his military fury.

The emperor, afflicted by this same black rage, soon broke out in hatred against the monks—not for the reason that they were rebels against the Church causing a schism, but because they were numbering his days and defining the times, believing that with his death they would be freed from the evils they were suffering. He afflicted these men with fierce and burning threats; yet, he was held back from immediately putting them into effect by a certain concern for his reputation and a fear lest he appear to be acting with cruelty without a proper cause. Nevertheless, shortly after overcoming this regard, he plucked out the eyes of Galaction and cut out the tongue of Meletius. ^C He decreed mere exiles, when he resolved ^D

ostensibly for the sake of simplicity and guilelessness, to bring into a suit of high treason those who had stirred up the Western rulers against the Emperor, though he was sojourning somewhere outside our borders. Having promoted Icarius, who was invested with the title and rank of Grand Duke, he had him seized, and by proposing the treasonable charge ^A he offered him an escape if he would accept the peace; but if not, he was to be subjected to the judgment. He, however, persisting in his opposition, remained under the penalty. I pass by the Cocci monks and those who were with Him, for the Emperor was so provoked that whoever merely brought up any matter regarding the controversies that were then being stirred up, in a sense contrary to his own, would immediately meet with a present penalty. Nor did he use any discrimination or selectivity in admitting such accusations; but he gave credence to anyone who accused another at the first word. Indeed, he even relied upon mere suspicions against his subjects as if they were testimonies; and when he was chided by grave men, to whom it was permitted to deal with him freely, for excessive severity in this matter, he alleged against them in his own defense the imperial laws and the way of acting customary to princes, adding that it was by no means fitting for the Romans to be governed by the Emperor as monks are by their superiors, who consider it sufficient to expiate the faults of their coenobites through penances. He excused the facility of his believing accusers by the necessity of effectively forestalling burgeoning evils, saying that whatever crime was indicated to the Emperor, whether truly heard by the informer or maliciously fabricated, the accusation was for the common good ^B of the enmity against one's neighbor; yet he himself heard that it was a necessity to carry out the charge. He often apologized for these things, and claimed that because he had been a friend of monks since childhood, he had been brought by necessity to hate them on account of their ill will. By "ill will," he meant their refusal to approve of what was being done. For which reason, perhaps, they even searched for the times when—not (for without a ruler they knew well it was not expedient to live, just as a body cannot live without a heart) the Emperor, but—others might deliver them from the evils upon them. Whenever a person’s mind is known, they having been created with free will, to be driven by a single will, even if forced, if he sees the danger in the body, it is a very grievous thing (for it is the same for the ruler and the ruled, and otherwise it is not possible for them to be saved, unless they are willing and agree); and if it concerns the soul, since then it is a life-saving deliverance in every way. The man who is perhaps seeking to be released by the one in power from terrible things grasps at it. And while it is necessary to straighten what is crooked toward the straight, so that they may be balanced, he ^C on the contrary was straightening the straight toward the crooked.

Thus, this moderation saved Lazarus Gorianites, a venerable man; for when he had sent out those who were to blind him, he was satisfied to banish him once they were recalled. But neither his most innocent simplicity—which had earned him the surname "the Dove"—nor the distance of the places where he lived, far from our borders, removed Macarius from the cruelty of the Emperor. For he had him seized through Icarius, who was then prefect of the fleet with the title and rank of Grand Duke, on a charge of high treason, as if he had attempted to stir up the rulers of the Western regions against him. And once he was captured, a condition was offered: either he should pay the due penalties of a man guilty of treason, or he should redeem them by approving the concord of the Churches (to which he had until then refused to agree). Because he hardened himself against the reconciliation, he was tried by law. I pass over the Cocci monks and those who were with him. For he was so irritable in this regard that whoever merely uttered anything concerning the controversies that were being stirred up then, in a sense contrary to his own, would immediately incur a present penalty for his utterance. Nor did he apply any judgment or selection in admitting such denunciations; but he gave credence to anyone whosoever accused, at the first word. Nay, he even cast himself upon mere suspicions against his subjects as if they were testimonies. And when he was accused of excessive severity in this matter by grave men, who were free to deal with him, he alleged for his own defense the imperial laws and the manner of proceeding customary to ^D princes, adding that it was by no means right that Romans be governed by the Emperor as monks are by their superiors, who are satisfied to expiate the faults of their monks by penances. He purged the ease of believing accusers by the necessity of effectively resisting burgeoning evils, when he said that whatsoever crime was reported to the Emperor, whether truly heard by the accuser or maliciously fabricated, the accusation was for the common good.

^A And yet, I do not deny that there was fault among the monks, with some of them carried away by an intemperate, misguided zeal, which was entirely unbecoming. But I trust that wise men, having carefully examined the circumstances of what then occurred, will judge that the Emperor himself, in opposing these men, did not maintain the middle path of praiseworthy moderation, but by exceeding it, fell into the opposite extreme. Furthermore, since on both sides there was a semblance of reason to color their actions, this should have sufficed to extinguish or at least to temper the insane ardor of both parties, so that the monks might not so contumaciously resist the Emperor—who was indeed procuring the peace of the Churches, which is most useful for the state, through an accommodation that many approved—and that, in turn, the Emperor might more mildly restrain those whose fear of sinning—albeit a vain one—was such that it was equitable to forgive their infirm consciences. However that may be, the result of this was that the liberty of contradiction, once suppressed in public by cruel examples of punishment, erupted into the furtive license of slander, and infamous libels were scattered at night in secret, in which the Emperor was reproached for his past crimes—for the usurped empire through perjury, and for the blinding of the rightful heir who had been deprived of his status.

The Emperor, with his own men, was excessively irritated by this; and as he could not pour out his rage upon the authors of the libels who were safe in their hiding places, he satiated himself with the cruelty of punishments upon those who had taken up and possessed these writings. For they considered the bringing of such charges, however true they might be, to be the greatest insult; and they judged the true authors of this insult to be those who had read the impious writings—which ought to have been destroyed at first sight—and kept them to be read by others. Therefore, a law was posted in public to this effect: “Whoever finds an infamous libel, if he reads it himself, if he tells others of it, or if he does not burn it immediately, or if he is caught in possession of it, let him be condemned to death.” Hence, sharp investigations and dire trials ^B became frequent concerning this crime, which was called *basilographium* (imperial libel). To be caught with even one such pamphlet in one's possession was enough to be declared guilty. Upon conviction, death was threatened.

25. Concerning Caloida and John Doukas.

How far from vain and how irrevocable that threat of extreme punishment was, the event that befell Caloida amply demonstrated. He was a man of signal piety and highest sanctity, living in virginity and diligently exercising himself in almsgiving and other such works of compassionate charity toward his neighbor, without distinction or choosing of persons. He was, moreover, from the family of the Empress, entrusted with the care of her household provisions. That he was caught in possession of just one such book, his own piety did not save him, nor did the most earnest intercession of his patroness, the Augusta—who did as much as she could for a faithful and dear client and minister—protect him. It was only after his wife’s most ardent and very frequently repeated prayers for Caloida that the Augustus reluctantly relented, allowing the sentence of death to be commuted to blinding. By his command, therefore, the condemned man was brought to the pillar of the forum in the Constantian quarter. Clerics were also summoned to that place with a sudden and menacing order that threatened those who might delay, though they were ignorant of the reason for the summons. The Emperor wanted them present so that this order of men, whom he had long suspected of contumacy, might be terrified by the example of such a dreadful punishment. Those, therefore, who did not know what was being done arrived; those who had sensed what was afoot made their escape as best they could. When Caloida was brought to the place, his hair was shorn—not down to the skin, but leaving the hairs standing up from the root to a certain height, so that they might serve as fuel ^C for the fire that would then deeply penetrate the skin itself and the scalp of his scorched head. Then, papers soaked in pitch were tightly pressed onto the miserable man's head, so that together with them...

burners, and then by shearing the skin with a knife, they would smear [the substance] little by little and frequently, until they left the miserable man half-dead, or rather, half-alive. ^A But these things happened a little later, when he had returned to the city. At that time, on the sixteenth of December, after the feast of the Theotokos, the emperor had departed, and the patriarch had departed, after the former patriarch, Joseph, had been sent off to the Cosmidion. But the emperor, having sent him away, also brought along Gabriel Sphantzes—who was the first cousin of the already blinded John —whom he had previously honored with the office of keeper of the great seal, but later, on account of certain charges, had caused his eyes to be gouged out. He united him to his kinsman, John, and taking him along with him, he was riding toward Nicomedia and the regions surrounding it. The patriarch, meanwhile, having crossed the neck of the sea by the causeway, ^B hastened straight to Nicaea. And indeed the emperor, taking the blind men along, was looking for a place where he could confine them under safe guard; while John, not bearing the punishment and feeling the injustice, would not take food, would not look to drink, nor would he allow any other of the things necessary for the care of his eyes to be done, but was carried along as a mere empty burden, casting his head against the earth or a stone wherever he happened to be, as if he were about to die. And perhaps he would have died from these things long before, had he not been restrained by his guards. But the feast of the Exaltation prohibited lingering. Therefore, he too, in pursuit, on the thirteenth of Gamelion [September], met the city. And as for his own position, being cautious lest he seem to hold the events in contempt, as soon as he disembarked from the ship he went to the emperor, spent the day in favor, and being invited by the emperor for the feast, he was ready to come and perform; for in every way he was restraining himself [from the actions] ^C that would lead to his death, and thus he departed from a life of pain, and the emperor was freed from the anxiety concerning him. The emperor himself, having visited the fortresses around the Sangarios in passing and having secured them with his own presence as was necessary, returned to the city in the month of September. The patriarch, however, having proceeded as far as the vicinity of Nicaea and having taken lodging at the "Ennaton" or "Ninth," did not wish to enter the city. The reason for such a decision was that he had nothing at hand at that time with which to bestow gifts upon his kinsmen and associates, who were living there in large numbers. It seemed unseemly and ungrateful, and neither worthy of his own dignity nor advantageous to his affairs, to have his first public appearance after achieving the highest honor without distributing anything to his own people. Therefore, "turning the prow," as the saying goes, and retreating from there, he passed Polypithia and decided to return immediately; for the approaching feast of the Exaltation of the Cross rebuked all delays. Hastening, therefore, he reached the city on the thirteenth day of September. And being solicitous regarding his favor with the prince—which he feared, not without cause, might be cooling on account of what was happening daily in the matter of the schism, with most people laying all the blame for those resisting peace upon Veccos, and complaining that he was tearing down the boundaries of the Fathers and fixed dogmas by his own writings ^D and was being carried away beyond all measure—for these reasons, I say, fearing for himself, the moment he disembarked from the ship, he went straight to the palace and stood most dutifully before the emperor for the entire day, and he presented himself as ready to go and celebrate when the emperor invited him to the feast. For he was miraculously changed from the man who had formerly dared to resist the prince so freely, and now he was fashioning himself to his nod in everything, having been tamed, of course, by those evils which we related above, which he suffered when he had been incited by the emperor's displeasure at his previous freedom. And

^A regarding Constantine Acropolites and Theodore Muzalon—of whom the one he had taken from the great logothete, his father, and brought up, educating him and making him a member of his household in the highest degree; while the other, he had taken from a military rank and, having surrendered him to studies, honored him as the logothete of the general office, and having yoked to him as wife the daughter of Cantacuzenus, he used him as a mediator of public affairs. Him, then, the Acropolites he only pretended to be angry with, and he kept his wrath against him within moderate bounds; but with Muzalon he was extremely enraged. ^B Therefore, when a time of embassy to Rome arrived, the emperor, having been excused from other things, chose, I suppose, to pin more weight on him to undertake the embassy, as a test. But when by ordering him he accomplished nothing more than appearing to speak to a deaf man or to make signs to a blind one, and the cause of the refusal was not unknown, immediately he was overcome by a fury he had not previously maintained; and having ordered his brother, whom he held in the office of receptionist, he having brought about the service, he struck him many and heavy blows, so that the rod he held in his hands—striking him repeatedly in the king's anger against him—did not suffice, but even that having broken, another was brought in to fulfill its work. But it was not ^C

26. Concerning the Logothete of the General Office, Muzalon

This happened also to very many others, and it had happened ^D that the fruit of this obedience stood him in good stead. For however much the emperor did not approve of the controversy concerning dogma being stirred up, and in the matter of peace did not wish the affair to be carried further than the necessity of strictly maintaining the conventions agreed upon with the Latins required, he persisted with the greatest constancy in protecting Veccus, whom, as I have said, public complaints everywhere traduced as if he were the source and author of the present disturbances, for the reason that he was not content that the concord be merely tolerated and practiced, but endeavored further to demonstrate that the Latins held the correct view on the dogma concerning the procession of the Holy Spirit, and he scarcely acknowledged their fault, recognizing it only in the addition attempted to the Creed. These things incredibly inflamed the minds of most. And the opinion of many was not unlikely, that if Veccus had tempered himself in these matters, it would have come to pass that the fervor of the schism would have gradually withered away and all things would have been composed in time unto tranquility. Since, therefore, it came about from these things that some, everyday more fervent in inconsidered zeal, broke forth into denying obedience to the emperor in those things which he prescribed for observing peace according to the pacts, and accused the patriarch of desertion to the side of the Latins, the emperor, enduring the contempt of his own disobedience by his subjects more patiently, was so inflamed on behalf of the patriarch that he seemed worse than death itself in avoiding those accusations cast against him. And when he was vehemently angry on this account with all, of whatever order or rank, who murmured such things, he was then most powerless with indignation as often as he saw those doing it whom he had embraced with special charity and raised from boyhood, having exalted them with honors, and therefore he believed them bound to obey him in anything by the enormous benefits conferred upon them. From these, besides very many others who were stomachized at Veccus not without punishment, two were above the rest, Constantine Acropolites and Theodore Muzalon, whose fall—especially Muzalon's—it will not be irrelevant, I think, to linger upon here. The former of these, received from the great logothete, his father, the emperor had brought up in his own house and had cared for him to be instructed in the best arts, and already held him intimately in his most familiar circle. But the latter he had brought in from the military order, and had commanded him, at his own expense, to be imbued with letters and disciplines, and had honored him with the dignity of logothete of the general office; and, having added thereto, he had further favored him with splendid power by affinity (for he gave him the daughter of Cantacuzenus as wife) and used him as a principal minister in the government of public affairs. And in the Acropolites, indeed, he held his wrath in his own control in avenging himself, not raging further than depriving him of the position of favor he had previously granted and removing him from his familiarity: but against Muzalon he released the whole reins of his anger. For when, on the occasion perhaps pressing to send legates to Rome, he had invited him above others to undertake that embassy for the sake of exploring, as I suppose, his mind, and he, on account of his aversion to the Latins and to the concord with them—which was evidently known to all—had flatly refused to admit it, and the emperor had accomplished no more through repeated instances to him than if he were singing to a deaf man or signaling to a blind one, at last, having shaken off all his former moderation, he became inflamed, and having had his brother, whom he had made his receptionist through his own recommendation, brought in, he ordered him to seize a rod and strike his associate most powerfully. He did this, not perfunctorily, while he looked on

and he did not delay in moving for his mediation in common affairs. He continued to be disregarded until, through self-signed guarantees, he not only accepted the peace, but was even more ready to act, if he were to command. But the Emperor, satisfied with the present, and further condemning him as one who had supposedly cooled in his zeal, while also not bearing it himself to appear to deviate at all from the agreed terms, once having received him, ordered him to abide only by what had been done.

27. How the Porphyrogenitus returned from the West, and matters concerning Cotanitzes.

^A [P. 339] In the same year, Emperor Andronikos returned from the East, having left behind the Despoina there; and before this, the Porphyrogenitus had also returned from the West, bearing no trophy other than having brought Cotanitzes under his hand through sworn agreements that he would suffer nothing irreparable from the Emperor. And while he, abiding by the oaths, was intent on keeping his faith to the end, the Emperor did not merely look to his own side, but he also desired to blind him, looking towards a future service from him and a subsequent unfeigned goodwill; he was contemplating, too, the lateness of the times. For he did not want to perjure himself—as if to be caught in perjury—but he desired that [it be done] by the son on his behalf, even if he did not agree at all. He foresaw the evil as evil, not by the law of divination, but by natural knowledge foreseeing what was to come; for a man who has come to experience plundering will never love one who does not serve the impulses of another. Thus, as the Emperor was immovable on this, and the Porphyrogenitus was offering oaths, he freed him entirely from perjury by his words (for he argued that he himself keeps the oaths, as he neither betrays nor consents to the whole proceeding, and that for him who was free of the oaths, it was safe to act). Having forbidden [him from continuing] with his words and the supplication for the petitioner, which he saw was laboring on his behalf, he who had received the advice introduced [the idea] to the one in danger to flee ^B to the Mountain and put on the monastic habit, if by this means he might be saved; for he believed that no one could reasonably be suspicious of one who had once laid aside the things of the world through fearful vows.

And the Emperor, holding to this purpose, from which he could not be turned—which he held so inflexibly that, when the rod had been broken into fragments by the violence of the blows in the hand of the striker, he ordered another to be taken and the stripes to be piled on, nor did he see this as the end of the evils for the wretch—he also removed him from his sight and from the administration of affairs. And he persisted in that disdain for him, until he, overcome by evils and unable to bear the longing for his former fortune, descended to the lowest prayers; and having demonstrated repentance for what he had done poorly, and having provided witnesses and pledges as it were, by the exhibition of contrary works and feelings, he secured a promise by which he bound himself not only to acquiesce henceforth to peace, but also, if anything further in that regard were dear to the Emperor, to obey everything he might command without any exception or delay. ^C In this also he was excessive, as the Emperor himself judged, for while he accepted what was offered only so far as to rejoice that Muzalon would henceforth stay within the established peace of the Churches, he severely disapproved in his own mind the preparation of spirit that he was displaying for proceeding further, if he were commanded. In this, he noted, not without silent contempt, that the man’s zeal had grown cold to the point of a relaxation of the necessary constancy, which it is the duty of a Christian to exhibit as unconquerable in matters of religion. The Emperor himself, then, both at that time and always at other times, held it before him that he was entirely averse to conceding more to the Latins than what they had stipulated in their agreements. Therefore, receiving Muzalon back into his original position, he ordered him to hold inviolate only those things which had been agreed upon by both sides in their peace negotiations.

27. How the Porphyrogenitus returned from the West; and the affair of Cotanitzes.

In the same year, Emperor Andronikos returned from the East, having left the Lady there. Before him, the Porphyrogenitus had returned from ^D the West, bringing nothing toward a trophy. For he had not conquered in war, but was bringing back with him Cotanitzes, who had voluntarily subjected himself to his power, after he had guaranteed to him by oath that he would suffer nothing grave from the Emperor. And the Porphyrogenitus, so far as lay in him, wished to the end to provide the promised fidelity. But the Emperor, having a well-nigh sufficient perspective on the turbulent nature of Cotanitzes, and although he saw nothing to be feared from him in the present, fearing providently for the future lest, having seized some occasion, he might cause trouble for his heir, and having laid aside the mask of obedience which he had adopted usefully for the moment due to the desperation of his affairs, he might return to his customary frauds and perfidy, desired to forestall the feared destruction by the blinding of the suspected man. Nor did he argue that he was held back from doing so by the religion of the sacrament, especially since he himself had not sworn, but his son had, without his order or consent; he thought it sufficient for fulfilling his pledge that he himself abstain from punishing the suppliant, and that it did not pertain to him if the father decreed anything else by his own counsel. Furthermore, the Emperor held it as certain that the evil man—not taught by oracle or by any force showing the future, but presaging what was to come by natural prudence, and not allowing himself to be persuaded that a fierce young man, having once tasted the sweetness of banditry, would live in good faith under a foreign empire or moderate himself in the occasion of overturning things to throw off the yoke—the Emperor, [I say], was determined on this. And from this purpose, to which he clung inflexibly, the Porphyrogenitus tried in vain to move the Emperor, putting forward the oath he himself had given. For the father replied to him that for the security of conscience, it was enough that nothing had been determined against the one who had surrendered, in a manner other than what he had hoped, through his own betrayal, advice, or assent; but as for himself, he would allow...

^A the king’s majesty to prevail, that he might accept the one who had put on the habit and not punish him. Speaking these words to him, and introducing the plan which seemed likely to be of benefit, the Porphyrogenitus made it clear that he was absolving himself of the accusation, provided he were not put in danger by his actions; for as far as it lay within him to help, he had done all that was possible. To Cotanitzes, therefore, and to the son-in-law of Tornikios, who saw that the danger was imminent, the plan seemed good; and he used the one who had proposed it as a mediator with the emperor, on the condition that he would put on the monastic habit, having bidden farewell to the world and its adornments. When it was required of him, he agreed at once to take the perfect habit, and having been released, he fulfilled the monastic vows; he who yesterday was playing the brigand was seen to be sober and innocent—not, however, in the intention of his soul, but only in outward appearance. For the mind, occupied as it was with worldly concerns, was far from this, and the act was weak, proceeding from necessity. How far he continued in this, we shall recount later. The Porphyrogenitus, thereupon, set out for the East, and in the absence of the ^B king from there, he himself performed the duties in his stead.

28. The death of the Empress Anna, and the events of that time.

But a short time passed, and the Empress Anna departed this life there where we have said she was staying, and the news was announced shortly after to the emperor. He, in his desire that his son, who was also emperor, should not learn of it—as if it were a guarded secret—sent his own archdeacon, who was also the chartophylax of the Church, Constantine Meliteniotes, with instructions to bring the body to Nicaea as was fitting. At the same time, having found a suitable occasion for the Porphyrogenitus, who had put aside his red garments on account of his mourning, not to wear them ever again, he prepared other-colored garments, adorned with white, purple, and gold, and having placed thereon the imperial symbols, the eagles, all set with pearls, and having sent sandals and bridles of the same, he ordered his son to parade in them as his insignia, ceding the red ones to the emperor alone. It was a clever move for the time, so that the emblems might not be accepted by the Porphyrogenitus Constantine, his younger son; for that which he had indulged him in until then—namely, that he should use red garments and also sandals just as he himself did—was no longer timely, now that his firstborn, Andronicus, had reached adulthood and had been elevated to the imperial dignity. For rivalries and ambitious hopes born from that source could have set the brothers against one another, with the consequent disturbance of the public peace. Therefore, in order that what needed to be done might be accomplished as painlessly as possible at an appropriate and fitting time, the emperor, thinking this moment to be most suitable for that purpose—since Constantine himself had voluntarily put aside the red garments on account of the mourning for the late Empress—ordered Meliteniotes to present to him what it was fitting for him to wear from then on.

^A His intention was to indicate that it was reasonable for Constantine to henceforth use only garments of solid, unmixed purple, leaving the multi-colored ones, woven with gold and embellished with pearls in the imperial Phrygian style—which had been the privilege of the sovereign—to his elder brother, who was now Emperor. The archdeacon diligently carried out everything he had been commanded, and having traveled very rapidly and secretly to the East, he delivered to Constantine Porphyrogenitus, before all others, both the orders and the gifts of his father the Emperor, although they brought little joy.

However, the death of the Empress could not be kept secret for long, so as to deceive her husband, the younger Augustus, who, once he had learned of the most mournful event, bore it as best he could. The body of the deceased lady was thereupon prepared and laid out according to royal custom, spending sufficient time on this so that it could be brought out and displayed in a procession befitting the dignity of the Imperial Majesty. It was then transported to Nicaea, with magnificent funeral rites arranged by both the Porphyrogenitus and Meliteniotes, and accompanied by a great retinue. The Patriarch, having been sent by the Emperor, met it there with all the bishops then in Constantinople, as well as the flower of the entire city clergy. Magnificent funeral honors were paid to the deceased there, in a manner truly royal, with the Emperor sparing neither care nor expense to ensure the splendor of the apparatus and the most august appearance of the procession. ^B Having fulfilled these funeral ceremonies, the Patriarch generously distributed to many of his long-time acquaintances and associates the gold pieces which he had acquired in such abundance at that funeral, thus demonstrating the readiness of his soul to give through the very expression upon his face and his eager demeanor, so that it might be sufficiently clear that his resources did not match his will, and that his generous mind was prepared to lavish far more than what the hand, in accordance with the giver's desire, could furnish.

Having done these things, Veccus returned to the city. On the way, having heard that Andronicus, now Augustus, having crossed the Bosporus, was making his journey toward the East, ^C he turned aside from his path and met him where he was lodging at the foot of the hill of Saint Auxentius. It was then the end of June, and the feast of the holy Apostles was approaching, which Andronicus had decided to celebrate there. For this cause, he delayed the Patriarch there for a little while, and by conversing with him, provided an opportunity for longer discussions with the Augustus—as he was clearly well-disposed and found pleasure in his company. Finally, after the solemn sacrifice of the feast day of Saints Peter and Paul had been duly celebrated by the Patriarch at the monastery of the holy Archangel Michael, he bade farewell to the Emperor, and having prayed for him in the customary manner of one departing, he returned to the journey he had begun towards the city.

29. Expedition of the Emperor Michael toward the Sangarius, and events there.

^D 502. The Emperor, having again been informed by clear reports that the regions beyond the Sangarius were in distress, and that the Persians, having thoroughly learned through frequent incursions of the weakness of the Roman forces there, had gained such confidence that, having crossed the river in complete security, they did not hesitate to raid and pillage even the tracts on this side of the Sangarius, mustered such forces as the time and the present supply allowed him to gather, and with the greatest speed hastened there, crossing the Sangarius. Then, seeing there a certain Scythian—as it is commonly called—desolation, he was so burned with a sense of sharp pain that he was little short of

^A tearing the hairs from his own head. For he deeply lamented the place in an extraordinary way, and bemoaned the mockery of his own people. Addressing the Patriarch of Alexandria, who was staying there to comfort the Emperor, he persisted, with deep sighs from his heart, in asserting the cause of this desolation: he recalled how the place had been previously, when he himself held military command there by commission, and seeing the extent of the calamity to which it had sunk, to the point that it was not even passable for men, being overtaken by high-foliaged trees. The cause, he said, was the attack of the zealots, and their hastening to make the subjects hostile to the Emperor, as they spoke of such and such things as "plagues," and as the Emperor acting lawlessly, and other things by which they estranged the hearts of men from the ruler, causing them to make the Emperor fear for himself; and it came about that his heart, when it was necessarily possessed by fear of his own subjects, dragged his limbs along with it. For delay immediately ensued, ^B and the fact that affairs in the localities were administered only by the commissions of generals, who, being defeated by the greed for profits, and fearing that they might suffer anything from the Emperor for being remiss in what was expected of them, covered up their failures, and writing falsehoods to the authorities for their own safety, were laying waste the land and finally rendered the habitable world a desert.

Speaking these things, having abandoned royal delicacies and all care for himself, so that he ate whatever was at hand, he proceeded further than he had before. As for the Persians, as much as he advanced, they were drawing back under the foot of the Emperor, who was passing the days there, as he was even finding their hearths still warm; where the Emperor had taken his stand, they were moving their camp from there to a new location a day or even two before they arrived. There was a multitude of fruits strewn under the trees, so that from this the greater part of the military was nourished; for the bringing in of any victuals there was, due to the fear, strictly forbidden. Hence, often, the Emperor would display his hard lot—sending the delicacies of his own table, the hard bran and black bread, to his wife, his mother-in-law, the Patriarch, and his acquaintances—writing that he was not even able to provide himself with spring water, the ^C

draught being barely potable only after it had been strained through linen and cooled in the open air. ^A Since he did not have sufficient strength at that time to pursue the Persians into difficult terrain, and also because a shortage of necessities was pressing upon him, he decided for the time being to fortify the area. In fact, he partitioned the banks on both sides of the river with numerous forts, repairing and solidifying those which had been weakened by time, and constructing others himself where the river was shallow and could be forded, so that through both the density of the fortresses and the pre-occupation of the necessary sites, the affairs of the Persians might be rendered helpless. Wishing also to restrict the inroads of incoming raiders—so they would not be able to cross wherever they pleased and make unexpected incursions without being observed—he ordered a great number of axe-bearing men to be gathered. He measured off the length of the river needing fortification, and having calculated the sufficient width, he ordered the trees to be cut down with haste and felled one upon another, and thus to thicken the area with the branches of the trees so that not even a snake would be able to pass through. Having commanded and completed these tasks for the present, and having been worn out by the labor, he finally provided enough grain for those in the forts, along the river, and until he withdrew from the regions of Prusa, ^B leaving for a convenient time the completion of their inspection, so that the enemies might be utterly driven away.

30. On the apocrisiaries sent to Pope Martin.

It happened that at that time, while the Emperor was staying at Prusa, he learned the situation regarding the Pope; for Martin was the one who had succeeded Nicholas. He had previously been in a hurry to send to him Leo, bishop of Heraclea, and Theophanes of Nicaea. But they, having arrived, were not received by those at the Pope's court in accordance with the hopes with which they had been sent, but rather entirely the opposite. For having learned the state of our affairs as they really were, and having suspected what was actually the case—that the peace which was being greatly boasted about was nothing but a sham and a mockery—they considered the whole thing to be a jest and not in truth (for, aside from the Emperor alone and the Patriarch and a few of those around them, everyone was hostile to the peace, and especially because the Emperor also wished to secure it with unusual penalties). They treated those envoys with dishonor and provided access to the Pope only late and with difficulty. Finally, they subjected the Emperor and those around him to excommunications, as mockers and as those who did not walk in the truth, and they sent the envoys away without deeming them worthy of any of the courtesies that were appropriate. When the Emperor heard these things from the Bishop of Nicaea (for the one from Heraclea had died on that journey), he took it very indignantly, so much so that when, during the holy rites...

the deacon was about to make the customary commemoration of the Pope, the Emperor prevented him. He complained openly to his intimates, saying that this was the fine fruit he was reaping for his charity toward the Latins: that for their sake he had risked conflict even with his own kin—not being able to restrain them, let alone obtain their gratitude—only for the Latins to return him curses and execrations for his great constancy in their faith. ^B He wished, therefore, to revoke all that had been decreed and to rescind the entire treaty of union. And he would have done so immediately, had not a certain consideration stayed his council. For he reckoned that if he were to destroy in a moment that which he had accomplished with such long and laborious effort, and at such great cost to himself, he would both be openly declaring his own prior conviction—which he had so clearly espoused—to be void, and would perhaps be arming the hatred of ill-disposed men against himself; and it would likely come to pass that it would not be to his advantage for these prior actions of his to be seen as condemned by his own judgment. He was fearful, seeing that the affairs of the Church were disposed toward a notable change, that if he were to rush into this recantation and publicly divulge it and do what he might one day wish had not been done, it would be better to refrain. Although he trusted that if Joseph, who was about to be restored to the patriarchal throne, should be reinstated, he would personally attempt nothing hostile or sinister against him—having observed his mild and pacific character—yet he also knew that Joseph was easily led by the impulses of others, and it seemed certain that there would be those who would incite him to provide examples against the authors of this hated peace. Thus he judged that he should refrain from condemning himself. How he did not vainly fear such a thing from the followers and advisors of Joseph, a recent event demonstrated, ^C which had occurred near the Sangarius.

31. Of the testament of the Patriarch Joseph.

For when at that time Joseph, being near death (as was then believed), had determined to draw up his last will and testament, he made mention of the Emperor therein, in the customary manner, praying well for him; yet he did not append the title "Holy" (that is, *sanctus* or *sacer*), by which it was customary for emperors to be honored everywhere, ever since they had been inaugurated with the anointing of holy oil. The Emperor, having read these documents brought to him, wondered at this strange omission and wrote to the Patriarch, complaining of the matter; he also wrote to the Prefect (the one entrusted with the city), ordering him to inquire seriously into what error or by what counsel this had been done: "See," he said, "whither Joseph has brought me into order and diminished the majesty of our empire by denying the title of the 'Holy': or does he perhaps judge me specially unworthy of it?" He wrote in the same vein to the Patriarch of Antioch, the Prince. When both had sent to Joseph, inquiring why he had written thus—as the Emperor wished to know—he shifted the cause of this to the monks around him, and he put forward another version of the text, which was the same in all respects save that it included the title of holiness. ^D He said that he had written this version in the first place, but since those around him were scandalized, he had rewritten it into that form which had been presented to the Emperor. By this ingenuous confession, Joseph declared both his own peaceful disposition and the envy of his ministers against the Emperor; and he gave the Emperor just cause to fear, lest men who were so ill-disposed toward him might seize some occasion to accuse him as if he were [corrupting the Church].

^A toying with the truth, and not seeking it, he deferred the investigation of these matters to a later time.

32. How the events at Belagrada came about.

While the Emperor was occupied with these affairs, news arrived of what had happened at Belagrada. But we must go back a little to the beginning. Certain Illyrians, having cast off the yoke of the Emperor, were acting as if they were their own masters. Having found the city of Dyrrhachium leveled by the earthquake that had occurred previously, they rebuilt it and inhabited it, settling there with certain other rebels against the Emperor. As for King Charles, they were on friendly terms with him due to his proximity to the people of Canina, and they were at peace by treaty. However, Canina had formerly belonged to Philip the Admiral, a man of the greatest influence, of whom the Despot Michael was afraid. And, because Philip had gained more power against Manfred—the man defeated by Charles—to the point of even slaying him and seizing his realm with the ^B greatest support from the Church, the Despot sought to take precautions; and having sent off the woman who had formerly lived with Sphantzis, and who was in fact his own wife's sister, now a widow, he joined her to him in marriage, ceding Canina and Coruphus to him.

As for Philip, when he had been treacherously and wickedly murdered by men sent to shoot him with arrows from hiding—and the drama was played out, and the Admiral was dead—he [the Despot] wished to hold Canina for himself, but the Italians who were found there stood in his way; these men, having also ^C brought about the time of the defeat, once again inclined toward Charles. Charles, having sent forces and secured the fortress, treated it as his own and wished to make it a base from which to sally forth against the Romans. Then, therefore, he was encouraged both by the defection of the Illyrians, and because he harbored a grudge from the beginning—having been frustrated by the Emperor's machinations regarding the voyage against the City—he crossed the Ionian Sea with a sufficient force, both cavalry and infantry, amounting to some three thousand. Having seized Canina and having made preparations as best they could, they began to sally forth from there, such was their daring ^D that they pushed on toward the city of Thessalonica, and even planned to engage the city itself on foot. They relied so much on their strength that they were already dividing up lands and cities among themselves, each according to his own expectation of success. Leading them all was Rhos Solymas, who surpassed everyone in spirit, a man most advanced in age, but haughty in his—

^A blond hair and an arrogant carriage of the neck, showing a certain natural ardor through his agitated movements. I believe that he also received his name from this, on account of his resemblance to the Rhos, since his hair was blond and the color of his face was ruddy, with the known appearance of the spider called the Rhox.

Relying on this confidence, then, the Italians dashed first toward Bellagrada—this is the name of the fortress—which they had hoped to capture at the first onset. The site of this fortress is as follows: on one side, it has a river flowing before it, called in the local language the Asunes. The fortress lies adjacent to the river, not on level ground, but on a certain elevation of a natural hill, at the base of which the river flows. To prevent the garrison from being hindered by hostile force in drawing water for daily use, there was a branch of an embankment, constructed long ago for uncertain and perilous times, reaching from the roots of the slope down to the river. The river is so close to the fortress that any of the foreign besiegers who wish to draw water from it, if they attempt to do so where the river is nearest, are within reach of the spears of those staying inside; wherefore they cannot approach to draw water unless they are protected by shields. On the other side of this, another hill rises above the plain, lying opposite, and the river called the Booses flows between, cutting the plain and dividing the territory of the Canini. After crossing this river in great numbers, the Latins occupied the hill, greatly alarming those in Bellagrada ^B who saw them encircling the fortress, and soon, having moved up stone-throwing machines, they began to shake the wall with powerful blows. As the report of this, moving with winged speed, reached even the royal ears, it disturbed the mind of the Emperor and caused him to tremble for the whole situation.

For if one were to say that their daring was a fire mixed with oil, he would not miss the mark. For he could conjecture nothing else than that the forces which had been held back from the machines and positions by the sea were not going away, but were now advancing by land, having gained the advantage of being able to live off the gains of the battle from the very start. He therefore resolved both to flee to God and to prepare forces sufficient to withstand the multitude, so that as soon as they appeared, they would stand fast, and having learned from the first attempt, would find the approach inaccessible. ^C And so, the things towards God were being prepared as follows: for it was proclaimed to the Patriarch and the bishops, along with the entire clergy, first to spend the entire night in a wakeful vigil beseeching God against the enemies, and then, at dawn the next day, the Patriarch, having taken with him six others of the chief bishops, all of them arrayed in sacred vestments, while all the others meanwhile were calling upon God, was to duly perform the solemn blessing of the holy oil; then, being prepared for this, they were to dip the bundles of papyrus strips into the consecrated oil,

and so give them ^A to those who were to carry them to the army, in such a way that there would be sufficient for the multitude of soldiers, so that each one might receive a single strip of papyrus and advance to close quarters with the enemy. These things were devised and accomplished with the utmost speed, and the holy bundles of papyrus, having been placed in glass vessels, were sent off with both prayer and safety. The Emperor, having entrusted sufficient forces for the operation ^B to his son-in-law, the Despot Michael, and to the Grand Domestic Tarchaneiotes—that is, the same Michael—and further to the Grand Stratopedarch John Synadenos, and to a fourth person together with them, the eunuch Andronikos, who at that time was of the palace and surnamed Eunopolites, sent them out, casting away from them all timidity and instilling in them great courage through the communion of the prayers of the priests.

These men then departed and camped at as great a distance as was feasible, and they no longer dared to attack suddenly (for they thought it reckless to resist with unreasoning daring, and this was particularly the opinion of those around the Grand Domestic, to whom the whole affair had been entrusted, and who always honored the seat of forethought), but rather to provide grain to those who had already been reduced by famine to ^C sending it. For it seemed that the river flowing past the fortress would contribute much to their relief, both because of those transporting at night ^D and because of the wedge—according to the need for water—that would be used for the transport of the loads to the fortress in safety by those appointed to the grain supply. Having contemplated these things, they made the carriers ready, and having heaped up a sufficient amount, they entrusted it to the river and sent it, and having stationed those who were around the riverbank to be sufficient for a skirmish with those who would seek to interfere. This proceeding, not escaping notice, enraged the Italians, and they rushed out to stop it if they could. They stood on the other side of the river Asounes, ready to both defend against those approaching and to prevent the grain supply, hoping to take the fortress by famine. But Rhos Solymas, together with those around him—who were very many and strong—decided to cross the river and defeat those who had come up to the bank to keep watch. They cast themselves into the current with great momentum, and having stemmed the onrush of the water and reaching the other side with all speed, they thought that by their snorting and by their horses, which alone were proud in their manner, they would strike terror into everyone who stood against them. As they were thus leaping forward in reckless confidence against those who had been sent

^A to them, they were met, partly through caution and partly through tactical design, with a steady resistance; but finding a suitable spot, they rained arrows upon them as they approached weighed down by their armor. ^A Though they thought it impossible to reach them, they kept aiming at the horses, hoping that by striking true, they might unhorse those boisterous infantrymen. Some of the horses were indeed wounded, and the mare of the Rhos Solymas was also struck—not with a mortal blow that would cause her to collapse immediately, yet, disturbed by the pain of the wound that had penetrated quite deeply, she began to lose much of her former mettle, and she carried her rider, who now clung to her sluggishly and unsteadily, until, by chance stumbling into a pit dug for the storage of grain—as is common—she was unable to free her entangled foot and collapsed, throwing down the rider who had been so arrogant and fierce. Our men, running up from all sides, seized him where he lay immobile beneath the weight of his armor, and led him away. ^B The capture of the enemy leader was immediately known throughout the emperor’s camp and within the besieged fortress itself. Those in the camp had the certainty of their own eyes, seeing the prey that was now in their hands, and they openly mocked the man who, only a little while before, had been so full of pride, now reduced to such humble servitude. As for the besieged, even before those sent to announce the event could reach them, they knew in some way of the accident that had occurred, and gave signs of joy, from which our men in the distance understood that they knew what had happened. Therefore, at dawn, our men all took up their arms, and each holding in his hand a scroll dipped in holy oil, crossed the river and rushed upon the enemy, who were in disarray due to the disaster of their leader. They were immediately scattered and put to flight; for those few who turned to face them were moved more by the curiosity to see what was happening than by the will to resist, and were quickly struck down. ^C Our men pursued the backs of all those who were now fleeing, striking them down with forceful missiles. Thus, the riders were thrown to the ground, cast down by wounds or by the stumbling of their horses. Most of them perished; some were taken alive, cut off in their attempts to reach their objectives. Their one great desire was to reach the Booses river, and having crossed it, to find safety. Our men, for their part, contended in various ways to delay that advance, both by harassing them from the rear and by outrunning them to block their path. Amidst this, the Italians, confused by their fear of being prevented from escaping to safety, and thrown into the most disorderly scramble with the baggage and the women whom they were dragging along with them, and by whom they were hampered, pushed and threw one another down, blindly crashing into and trampling upon each other, so that many of them were crushed by the hooves of the horses running toward the river; and these prideful cataphracts, afflicted by their fall, were easy prey for our agile light infantry. Many of them were captured at once and dragged off to the fortress to be guarded, while those who had led them away immediately returned to seize others, and others again, placing them in secure custody as soon as they had apprehended them. In this crisis, it was observed that while the common folk and the rank-and-file were killed, the more distinguished and primary ones were kept alive. ^D Amidst this tumult, those of the Latins who were finally able to reach the banks of the Booses threw themselves into the river, preferring death to ignominious captivity under the Romans. There were, however, some who succeeded in swimming across. These very few, from out of the many, finally found a safe refuge from their headlong flight in the fortress of the Caninae, naked and unarmed, they who but a short while before had been arrogant and threatening to the entire Eastern Empire

^A expecting in their hope to seize Roman territory like a nest of unfledged birds, to be snatched up in sport.

33. The Triumph of the Captors at Bellagrada.

It would, moreover, be wrong to pass over that triumph which was celebrated in the City in gratitude for this success. For after the Emperor’s men had won a most complete victory—or rather, had accomplished such wonders against the arrogant boasters so easily and without toil—they despoiled the dead, from whom they gathered vast riches in the way of arms, clothing, horses, and expertly crafted vessels of every kind. As for the survivors, they gathered them together along with their horses; some they bound with inescapable fetters, while others they let go as pack animals, taking the entire force into their own ranks (for there was no reason to fear from that point on, since the entire host of the enemy had been captured). They then set out to return to the Emperor, carrying splendid spoils—a spectacle truly most marvelous to those who were well-disposed toward the Romans. The Emperor, having received his men and learned exactly what had been done—and having further looked at each one of the captives along with their horses and gear, seeing some wasted away and showing only bones and skin of their former prosperity, wearing rags not perhaps the very ones they had used before, but whatever incidental scraps those who pitied them had allowed them—thereby observing these men standing in a row, ^B some of whom one would describe not even as bodies, but as shadows of the giants of old—their souls, while crushed by their own plight, still showing in the tension of their faces and the gravity of their character their former freedom—was himself moved to deep compassion at this human misfortune. He raised his hands to God and with a clear voice offered Him thanks; and, wishing that this gratitude of his should stand as a witness for future times, he ordered that the whole series of this victory and triumphal procession be painted upon the walls of the palace; indeed, not only this, but also other prosperous successes with which God had previously deigned to bless his empire. This work was immediately begun in the vestibule of the palace porticoes, but it could not be brought to completion before the death of this Emperor Michael, which occurred shortly thereafter. Yet, wishing to show to all God’s grace—not indeed magnifying himself because of what had just been accomplished, like some ignorant and small-minded man, but rather knowing God to be the cause and intending to magnify Him—he ordered a triumph to be brought in. And there was [P. 352] the Emperor, standing on high in a vantage point in the palace of the Blachernae, looking toward the west and the sea, so that he might at once enjoy the spectacle and himself be widely visible to those watching. They were led in a row, one by one, as each had his horse, sitting on one side. ^D Each was permitted to hold a spear from

papyrus or some other cheap material, an obvious badge of the military offense by which they had been reduced to such a plight. A dense crowd stood on both sides; some lamented the adverse turns of fortune, especially when their eyes fell upon the princes and leading men brought to such ignominy, while others mocked and insulted them, calling out that it was fitting they should bear the fruits of their own madness—a late repentance, which is the usual offspring of thoughtless folly, soothing those it carries off at the beginning but punishing them most severely in the end. There were some, especially from the dregs of the populace, who even hissed at the miserable men. ^A The pleasure of this sweet spectacle lasted for those lingering in one place; they had no need to move elsewhere to enjoy the sight of what was passing by. For one man constantly succeeded the one before him, displaying a mockery consistent with his own disgrace, and feeding the eyes in abundance, so that they felt no need to follow or seek out those already passed. Rather, the sweetness of watching increased as the satiety was forestalled by a certain continuous change of scene, with the mockery of the common crowd and the petulant youth offering material for laughter, particularly the shameful tonsuring of their heads, which was a pleasant novelty to the commoners. Just as the eyes took pleasure in this, so too were the ears soothed by the confused insults thrown at the enemies, who were suffering what they deserved; these were like a new song, which, as the old saying goes, is wont to please the people.

^B The procession was marked by great variety, which was itself delightful; as a youth succeeded an adolescent, and men were interspersed among youths, the changing shifts of this multifarious spectacle always offered something unexpected, while one naked man was dragged along behind another who was clothed, a bareheaded man succeeded one with a cap, an obsequious man with a downcast face followed one who was arrogantly defiant, and a lean man followed a fat one; one who bore his misfortune abjectly followed another showing a high spirit through the constancy of his expression. These were like varied courses at a meal, and for that very reason most gratifying, being exquisite feasts for the eyes, stretching out over such a length of time as the very long chain extended, binding together many hundreds of men at fair intervals between each. Moreover, each of them, as he reached the place from where the emperor looked down from above, was compelled to pay him homage, even against his will, by bowing his head deeply from his horse, though most of them pretended to do this willingly out of a show of modesty, and even those who were wasting away within deeply disguised the grief of their souls with the feigned hilarity of a smiling face. Thus having entered the city, and having been led through the whole of it insofar as it extends, in a procession of shameful disgrace, they were cast into the prison of the Zeuxippus, there to be mocked by the unrestrained derision of the common people, while those more elegantly bred and by this more humane sympathized with their unhappiness. And these things were done in this manner.

34. Concerning the leader of the Lazes, John, and how the sovereign made him his son-in-law.

^C [P. 353] It was a concern for the emperor, not only that those who lived with him and under him should keep themselves within the bounds of decent moderation, but he also extended this foresight to outsiders who sometimes swelled with a confidence of their own power, the results of which…

^A he had learned were dangerous both to themselves and to those who had been forced to use moderation through the turning of the sword—some having autonomy by fortune, and others, who in another way leaped beyond the boundaries and were in danger of being punished according to the laws of the empire. To the ruler of the Lazoi, John, who was parading around with imperial insignia, although he had no right at all to an empire, he sent word many times, declaring that he might freely enjoy the power over his own people as he wished, but that he should refrain from imperial titles and insignia. For it was not at all proper, while he himself was emperor, occupying the imperial throne and city, for others to be proclaimed by the higher and supreme dignity, but rather, as a part, he should attach himself to the whole, and not bring confusion into the imperial order in such a way. By doing this many times, he achieved nothing more than appearing to achieve nothing. For the barbarian, being proud and ignoring the status of the situation, pretended to have certain excuses for not being the one to begin the transgression in this matter, but that he had it from his fathers; further, he said that those around him would not allow him to curtail in such a way a paternal dignity that had come down from long ago, nor that they themselves should be inglorious, ^B being deprived of the part of imperial glory when he was stripped of it. For they claimed that there was less envy in being of the color of scarlet sandals and the name of empire to one [P. 554] who possesses the greater things; and those things were, as he said, submission and servile meeting and peaceful treaties and all that was ceded to him in all respects. The sovereign therefore decided, because of these things, to deal with John in another way, and more so because he was also young, being established in power. Wishing therefore to provide also for an alliance, and to remove the suspicion he had of wanting to curtail the power in another way and not to proclaim the change of robes according to the very right of the empire (for he did not want to leave room for his own children to allow the right to be diminished for them), he decided first to fulfill the embassies to him from long ago with the greatest and most wise men, so that at the same time, by the dignity of the persons, he might have arguments sufficient to show them to be worthy of belief, and at the same time, by their knowledge of words, he might persuade him of what he was saying and strike down every ugly suspicion. For this reason, the great logothete Acropolites, still alive, was sent, and the great oikonomos of the Great Church, Xiphilinus, to mediate both the affairs of the alliance (for the emperor had also a third daughter, Eudokia, whom he wished to join in marriage to John), and to per-

provide the young man with some assurance and good faith regarding his journey to the emperor, while ^A he himself kept his hopes steadfast, calling him to come forward with confidence as if to good things. The emperor, to be sure, said these things, while not allowing them at all to come, nor was he eager for his arrival; for many years before, those from the neighboring regions were accustomed to marry among their own rulers and to remain by themselves, learning the emperor’s affairs from the stars, and choosing their own modest circumstances before the good and great things from her. Thus, since the envoys, by various counsels, did not persuade them—saying that they considered everything else secondary to the emperor’s will—they returned to the emperor, having achieved nothing at all. Yet the emperor did not give up his attempt until the end, but, by sending frequently, he would threaten on the one hand, and on the other hand, he would entice them with the good things that would happen to them from him, if only they would be persuaded and come. Finally, he sends the logothete of the domestic affairs, Iatropoulos, and with him a presbyter of the Church—the one for the honor of the person being called and to lead the good things from the emperor, ^B and the one concerning the things said, as if the Church were also acting as an envoy for these things, being ignorant of anything in such a way, as he persuaded by saying, concerning things upon which he might even agree to swear, so that, abandoning their suspicions, they might judge by the very facts whether he would wish to make him a son at the same time and also wish him evil. Saying these things, they persuaded them, and having taken oaths that John would indeed become the emperor’s son-in-law and would return with a multitude of good things, with the matters concerning him also being well-ordered, they boarded a long ship and set sail for the city. And since the emperor happened to be away at that time, staying at Lopadion (for there, having crossed the Sangarios and as he was secure, he had halted his march, as from there he would secure the heights at Acheraus), and as John was entering the borders of the Romans, the envoys introduced a counsel to those around John to lay aside his red [footwear] and to put on black sandals, ^C as indeed the dignity belonging to him would immediately be conferred by the emperor. For it had been concluded among them, ^D and they did not doubt that they would trust in the promises for which the Church, which knew not how to deceive, would exhibit itself as a sort of guarantor, and the Augustus attained his heart’s desire. For when both of them affirmed for themselves, each with best faith and will, that he was calling John into an alliance, and that subsequently, with fatherly affection, he would enrich him with every kind of good, at length, with the shadows of suspicion dispersed, they clearly assented to the Lazian; and having accepted an oath from the envoys, by the name of the emperor and by their own faith they solemnly pledged that it would surely come to pass that John, journeying to Constantinople, would there take the daughter of the emperor as his wife, and would soon be sent back home, heaped with goods and honors, bringing back his companions also, enriched by the liberality of the Augustus; together with them, having boarded a long ship, they set sail toward the city. But since it happened by chance that the emperor was then away from the city, staying at Lopadion, and was intent there upon either diverting damages or repairing the ruins of the regions around the Sangarios (for this he had undertaken as he traveled toward those parts, thinking he must stay at Lopadion, in order to strengthen from there the neighborhood and his other provisions against the Persian force at the citadels located near Acheraus), the envoys leading the Roman John the Lazian, that absence of the emperor having been learned by the way—as soon as they reached the Roman borders—they seized the opportunity there aptly of suggesting to John that he would act elegantly if he were to put off his red shoes for a little while and put on black ones until the return of the emperor, who would soon arrive. For even though at the departure it had been agreed between them that John would travel with the insignia of despotic power customary to him, nevertheless they disputed that it was a suitable reason why he should yield anything in that matter then, since he would soon receive from the honorable judgment of the Augustus with interest of glory that which he was willingly for a very short time.

and he was worried about what concerned the despotship ^A, for he was not only at peace, but was even again confusing those treaties, and [the symbols] were clearly being sought again as soon as the child was born. Moreover, that he should take up the purple-dyed [symbols]—those two-colored ones—was not altogether inappropriate, besides the fact that it also looked difficult for the emperor in other respects. Having said and done these things, they approached the city, and having disembarked at the harbor of the Golden Horn, they were lavishly entertained in some of the buildings in the city. And for a few days, having shaken off the tumult from the sea and having received the emperor's instructions, they proceeded to Lopadium. And having been treated with the customary kindness, they made use of the voyage with the emperor himself and arrived at the city. For the wedding of his daughter was pressing him, and [the news] that the Tocharoi were arriving from the West, whom the emperor had again requested from Nogai against the sebastokrator Ioannes, and he was receiving them as [Nogai] sent them. At the end of the month of Gamelion, having appeared, he celebrated the wedding of his daughter. Having spent the whole month of Elaphebolion, he readied his forces and prepared for an expedition. 35. How the emperor called the Tocharoi against the sebastokrator Ioannes. [P 356] For the sebastokrator Ioannes was not ^B at rest, but was again attempting things that did not befit him. But the emperor, having no way to hold him back from his plans (for his impetuous and arrogant nature led him even to a declaration of him as a rebel), unless, having brought the Tocharoi, he would plunder all his lands and place him in a tight spot in terms of matters and hopes, if indeed he might escape the danger—revolving these things in his mind, he brought over the Tocharoi. It was timely also for the coming winter; for it is customary for them to campaign even in winter. And he was pressing to forestall them, so as to encounter the Tocharoi outside the city. But surely the contemplated concern, while in a way befitting a soldier, was altogether inappropriate for a Christian; for to stir up impious [men] against Christians and atheists against holy [places] is an act that might not be far from those who are utterly unconcerned with the fear of God. But the emperor's request to Nogai was moving them, and the desire to utterly disappear him and those lands and the enemy. But divine justice was not then to be neglected, but, being changeable, it was instead leading the way, as the account will say shortly. And then, the month of Mounychion having arrived, he was preparing for the expedition, not so much because of the multitude of men with him and the forces...

^A which he trusted to the Tokharoi; but the Augusta, on account of the clamor and commotion caused by the Augusta, inasmuch as she perceived this, both with regard to the unreasonableness and untimeliness of the campaign, and also because she observed the illness—a result of the hardships of the summer—that was hanging over the emperor, and further suspected something of the disasters that were to follow ^B, or rather, because her soul was prophesying the outcome—was restraining him more vehemently and would not allow him to set out. This she did not do in a formal way, as one might say, or indirectly, but with extreme insistence and openly, as if the expedition were of necessity bringing about some great evil. "What has come over you," she said, "that you spare neither your body nor your life itself? Even if something else were not causing evil suspicions and dire omens, this disease itself and your lack of strength would be considered enough to restrain you." But the truth of the matter in his mind was that, while he was afraid for himself, he intended to reach Thrace, meet the Tokharoi, and rouse them with speeches and gifts, but not to campaign with them; rather, he intended only to go as far as was feasible, hand those people over to his own men, instruct them in what must be done, and return himself. The evidence for this was that he brought his sons and sons-in-law with him, including the very man who had married his daughter ^C just two days before—John. Nevertheless, though the Augusta's concerns—which were not so hidden within the inner chambers of the palace that they did not burst forth to the knowledge of outsiders—made it clear to those outside that the future was being corrected, or rather that the soul was prophesying the outcome, the emperor, perturbed and yet also relaxed, deciding that the fearful apprehension of the Augusta was not a good omen, took leave of his acquaintances and set out. He and his sons traveled as far as Selymbria on horseback; but when his illness progressed and he could no longer travel on foot, he determined to use the sea and a ship from there as far as Rhaedestus. And no sooner had they boarded (for word came that the Tokharoi were near, and there was no way to delay or, indeed, to neglect things or postpone them on account of his illness; for he was in pain, and his entrails were in a wretched state), than one who observed him and his sons boarding at that time, and who was endowed by nature with the keenness of mind to perceive future events, could have accurately guessed the future ^D from that very moment.

36. How the emperor, while in danger at sea, died after leaving later.

For suddenly, when it was clear, the weather turned into something more wintry, and the sea, which was previously calm, transformed into a state of turbulence.

It was no longer possible for the ship carrying the emperors to remain steady; instead, it was harassed by wild waves, tossed here and there, unmanageable and unyielding to command, ready to capsize with all hands, so that it often sank and failed to rise again, and just as often one despaired of its ever rising again. The sailors and the captain were perplexed as to how to cope with the sea.

At that moment, the emperor, seeing the manifest danger and fearing for himself and all his children, said to the captain that they must struggle even beyond their strength; for if not the whole world, at least the entire Roman state—carrying both emperors—was contained upon that small piece of wood. The captain replied that he had not been remiss until now, nor would he omit anything in the future that effort and industry could provide—adding, in words showing that he was unwilling to speak of the futility of his best efforts, that there was no way to avoid being swallowed up by the gaping sea, unless God should help, so far was all nautical skill overcome by the violence of the encroaching evil. At last, after struggling long and hard against the waves and winds, and often being brought to the brink of disaster, they arrived at Raedestos, half-dead from fear. There, having rested for a few days from the agitation, they again mounted their horses and rode until they reached the region of Allage. ^B

Allage was the place where it was fated that the ruler would meet his end. Pachomius, who had previously been blinded, had shown how vain were the suspicions concerning his succession to the empire. The field to which the name of Pachomius had become attached by its owner, because of a common oracle whose ambiguity had rendered Pachomius a suspect figure, now fulfilled its prophecy through a fatal event. For while the emperors and the army were encamped there, the disease weighed more heavily upon the senior Augustus.

The Tochari soon arrived, having been summoned by urgent messengers, but it was not granted to them to enjoy the desired meeting on either side, as the emperor was forced to lie in bed due to his illness. He was not able to be seen riding on horseback, nor to speak with them while resting on the island, as it were. And when he happened to sign a royal decree in his bed, noting the month then current, November, with the letter N, he added certain strokes to complete the other elements of the word, and handing over the signed paper, he said: "Behold, November is concluded." ^C By this, with a deeper meaning than he himself intended in speaking, it was indicated that all the emperor’s actions were concluded, his own soul presaging this and uttering that very omen in those words.

Meanwhile, the meeting and conversation with the Tochari were deferred in the expectation of an improved state of health. But when the hope for this was diminished because the illness grew worse day by day, and a greater fear arose that the savage nation, despairing of the prince's recovery, would plunder with their customary rapacity those regions into which they had been summoned to enter, the emperor was forced to admit the leaders and notables of the Tochari to an audience, and to speak to them from his bed. Therefore, the common soldiery of that nation...

were satisfied by the gifts, while the emperor sent for the leaders and notables, and arranged to receive them in his bedchamber. This was done with as much decorum as the present situation allowed. The necessary attendants and courtiers of the emperor stood on either side. He himself, having exerted himself as much as his bodily weakness permitted, sat upright on his bed, and highly commended the devotion of his well-meaning allies who had so zealously responded to his friendly summons, declaring that he would commit this service to his memory as a debt of gratitude. First and foremost, he declared that he owed and felt the greatest thanks to Noga, for having so promptly and readily granted what he had requested; he added that just as he was obligated to those present before him for having come so strenuously to his aid, so in the same way he would be eternally bound to him who had so kindly sent them. He said that this illness had come upon him at a most inconvenient moment, and that it was the more grievous because, by reason of it, he was prevented from receiving those noble allies who had journeyed such a long way for his sake, and from showing them the signs of true affection he had intended. However, he hoped that he would soon be restored, and that once his health was recovered, he would soon have the opportunity to show his gratitude toward them with benefits befitting both their merit and his own zeal. These things were spoken by him with few words and with difficulty. The Tochari, for their part, showed that they were pained by the distress of their friend, the prince, and that they desired and hoped for his restoration to his pristine health; and that then they would receive with more sincere joy the benefits he had promised. So much for them. But the sickness began to grow thereafter, and with the force by which it raged so savagely, it was clearly pushing the Augustus toward his end. Not long afterward, there arrived for the sick man that final day that is recognizable by unmistakable signs, when the physicians, seeing that nothing was milder than an imminent death, were openly predicting the passing of the one lying there. The actuary Cabasilas, however, lacked the courage—prevailing fear of causing offense restraining him—to inform the Augustus of his danger. For this, indeed, is the way the approach of a fatal hour is wont to be particularly harmful to mortals, in that it causes those who bring such notices, however well-intentioned, to be almost detested as if they were the cause of it. Furthermore, Cabasilas rightly deemed it a religious duty not to let the Augustus depart from this life so unprepared. Therefore, he thought he would discharge this duty toward him if he announced the extreme danger of his father to his son and successor, Andronicus, which he did at once. But not even Andronicus dared to bring such a sad message to his parent. Yet he devised a plan to compensate, in some way, for his own silence. The symbols of the Lord’s death ^A were suddenly brought forth by his order, which a priest of the palace clergy, filled with reverence and adorned as was fitting, took and approached the Augustus, who was completely unaware and thinking of nothing less. The sick man happened at that moment to be looking toward the wall, intent upon his personal concerns (for he was still strong in his reasoning faculties). The priest therefore stood at the other side, holding the holy gifts in his hands, and stood in silence for a long time, waiting for him to turn his attention toward him and him alone. Whether the emperor suspected something of the sort, or whether some other thought came to him, he turned toward the priest; and as soon as he saw him, he immediately understood the situation, and asked, "What is this?" When the priest replied that they had prayed for him and were bringing in aid those gifts which would contribute to his health, the emperor interrupted him, took heart, and raised himself up from the bed, and asked for a girdle. He went through confession of the holy mystery, saying, "Lord, deliver me from this hour," and having made befitting supplications to the Most High, he received the holy communion. And falling back again, after a short time had passed, he gave up his soul. Indeed, having died, he was honored by the tears of his own kin no less than those of the Tochari. His corpse...