The flight of the Emperor and his uncle, and the blinding of their eyes

38. When news of this reached Michael, fearing that the rebels would suddenly come upon him and lay violent hands on him [104] there in the palace, he embarked on one of the imperial ships, and landed with his uncle at the holy Studite monastery. There he laid aside his emperor's garments and put on the clothes of a suppliant and refugee. As soon as this information became known in the City, the hearts of all men,**73 hitherto filled with fear and grim foreboding, were relieved of anxiety. Some made thank-offerings to God for their deliverance, others acclaimed the new empress, while the common folk and the loungers in the market joined in dancing. The revolution was dramatized and they composed choral songs inspired by the events that had taken place before their eyes. More numerous still was the crowd that rushed in one wild swoop upon the tyrant himself, intent on cutting him down, on slitting his throat.

39. So much for them. Theodora's companions meanwhile sent a guard for him. The guard commander was one of the nobles**74 and I myself accompanied him (I was a personal friend of the man). Actually, he had invited me to advise him and help in the carrying out of his orders. On our arrival at the doors of the church, we saw another guard, composed of volunteers, a company of citizens who had completely surrounded the sacred building. They were ready to do everything but tear it down. So it was not without difficulty that we made our way into the church. Along with us a great multitude of folk poured in, roaring abuse at the accursed fellow. All manner of indecent epithets were hurled at him.

40. Up till then I too had gone along with the mob with no particularly moderate feelings about him. I was not indifferent to his treatment of the empress, and a certain mild resentment against the man stirred me on my own account. But when I reached the sacred altar where he was, and saw both the refugees, one, who had been an emperor, clinging to the actual Holy Table of the Word, the other, the Nobilissimus, standing on the right of the altar, both with their clothes changed, their spirit gone and utterly put to shame, then there was no trace whatever of anger left in my heart. I stood there dumbfounded, mute with astonishment, as though I had been struck by a hurricane. I was transformed at the strangeness of the thing. Then, recovering my spirits, I began to curse this life of ours, in which these strange and terrible things so often come to pass, and as if some spring had welled up within me, a flood of tears beyond control poured from my eyes. This outburst finally gave way to groans.

41. Now the mob that had entered the church gathered in a circle [105] round the two men, like wild beasts longing to devour them, while I was standing by the latticed gate on the right of the altar, lamenting. Both of them saw that I was greatly distressed and not entirely hostile to themselves. They detected in me some signs of moderation. Both therefore converged on me. Changing my manner somewhat, I began with gentle censure of the Nobilissimus. Among other faults I charged him with voluntarily supporting the emperor in his persecution of Zoe. Then I turned to him who had formerly been all powerful, asking him what possible hurt he could have suffered at the hands of his adopted mother and mistress, that he should add such woe to her tragic story. Both answered me. The Nobilissimus denied that he was privy to his nephew's plot against Zoe. He had encouraged him in no other designs. 'If I had wished to restrain him', he said, 'my reward would have been some calamity. The fellow was so headstrong,' — and here he turned to the emperor — 'so headstrong in all his desires and ambitions. Had I been able to check his enthusiasms, the whole of my family would not have been mutilated, a prey to fire and sword.'

42. I would like to interrupt the history for a moment and explain what he meant by this 'mutilated'. When the emperor exiled the Orphanotrophus, thereby bringing down, as he thought, the pillar of the family, he hastened to the destruction of the rest. All his relatives, most of whom had already reached their full stature and were bearded men, who had become fathers and been entrusted with offices of great dignity in the state, he compelled to undergo castration, making of their life a semi-death. The truth is, he was ashamed to kill them openly: he preferred to compass their destruction by mutilation, a punishment apparently less severe.

43. Such was the reply of the uncle. The tyrant, however, slowly shaking his head and forcing a tear from his eyes (not without some difficulty) said, 'Truly, God is not unjust' — those were his very words — 'and I am rightly paying the penalty for what I have done.' With these words he again laid hold of the Holy Table. Then he prayed that his change of garment might receive legal sanction and the ceremony of reception into the Church was performed in respect of them both. Nevertheless, they were utterly dejected, filled with apprehension and dread lest the mob should attack them. For my own part, I thought their turbulence would go no further. I was still fascinated by the drama of the thing. The unravelling of the plot [106] bewildered me. But this proved to be indeed only a short prelude to the worse tragedies which followed. However, I will describe what happened in detail.

44. Day was already drawing to a close when suddenly there arrived one of the newly-appointed officials, saying that he had received an order from Theodora to remove the refugees to some other place. He was accompanied by a crowd of citizens and soldiers. Approaching the altar at which they had sought sanctuary, he invited them, in a somewhat peremptory manner, to leave the church. Despite this, when they saw the mob talking of public execution and when with their own eyes they perceived the mob leader signalling that the moment was at hand, and when they observed the change in the man — he was more insolent than usual — they refused to come forth and clung more resolutely than ever to the pillars that support the altar. The other thereupon laid aside his insolence and addressed them with greater respect. He swore by the Holy Relics and used all manner of persuasion, saying that they would neither suffer any evil nor would he, the Empress's envoy, treat them with any more severity than the occasion demanded. Even so, they remained deaf to his entreaties, filled with dread and expecting all kinds of disaster to follow their present distress. It was better, they thought, to be slain in the sanctuary than meet with any and every outrage in the open.

45. So the official gave up all hope of reasoned persuasion and resorted to violence. At his command the mob laid hands on them and without more ado proceeded to break the law, hounding them out of the church like wild beasts. The victims emitted cries of anguish unrestrained. They lifted their eyes to the Holy Lamb, praying fervently that they might not be disappointed of their hopes, that they might not be cruelly driven away after seeking refuge in the house of God. And most of those who were there with us were indeed put to shame by their sufferings. They did not dare to resist outright — affairs were now hurrying on to the climax — but they did make a bargain with the mob and they relied on the sworn word of their leader. So they handed them over to him, with the air of men who have concluded a treaty, and then continued to escort them, presumably in order to give them assistance once they were driven from the church. In reality, nothing could help them; circumstances were far too unfavourable and the people's hatred too general. [107]

46. Theodor"'s adherents were aware of Zoe's jealousy. They knew that she would be quite willing to see a stable-lad on the imperial throne rather than let her sister share power with herself. They drew the natural conclusion that she would in all probability scorn Theodora completely and promote Michael to the throne a second time, by underhand means. Their unanimous decision, therefore was to do away with the fugitive emperor. The moderate element, however, was not disposed to favour sentence of death: the ambitions of Michael and his uncle would have to be extinguished by some other device, and after careful consideration, they determined their course of action. Bold, resolute men were despatched with all speed. Their instructions were to burn out the fugitives's eyes, as soon as they saw them outside the sacred building.

47. Actually they had already left the church, and a shameful reception awaited them outside. The rabble made fun of them, naturally enough under the circumstances. Sometimes the insults were tempered with laughter, but malice inspired others. Anyhow, they brought them out, intending to drive them through the centre of the city, but they had not gone far on the journey when they were encountered by the man who had been commanded to blind the two miscreants. His party showed their instructions to the mob and they proceeded to prepare for the execution and sharpen the iron for the branding. Meanwhile the victims heard what wretched fate was in store for them. There was no longer any hope of escape, for while some applauded the sentence, the others did nothing to oppose it, and the two were instantly struck dumb with fright. In fact, they would have nearly died, had not one of the senators stood by them to help. He offered consolation in their misery and little by little restored some courage in their hearts.

48. In spite of this encouragement, the emperor, overwhelmed by the situation and his wretched misfortunes, showed the same weakness of character throughout the whole time of his tribulation. He moaned and wailed aloud. Whenever anyone approached him, he begged for help. He humbly called upon God, raised hands in supplication to Heaven, to the church, to any other thing he could think of. His uncle, on the other hand, although at first he followed his companion's example, once he was convinced that safety really was out of the question, braced himself for the trial, and having armed himself, as it were, against the shock of catastrophe, he faced [108] suffering bravely. The fact is, he was a man of more dignified and steadfast character than his nephew, a man who would not willingly surrender to adverse fortune. Seeing the executioners all ready for their work, he at once offered himself as the first victim and calmly approached them, waiting with hands athirst for his blood. And as there was no clear space between himself and the mob — for everyone there present wished to be the first witness of their punishment — the Nobilissimus quietly looked round for the man to whom the miserable job had been entrusted. 'You there,' he said, 'please make the people stand back. Then you will see how bravely I bear my calamity!'

49. When the executioner tried to tie him down, to prevent him moving at the moment of blinding, he said, 'Look you. If you see me budge, nail me down!' With these words he lay flat on his back on the ground. There was no change of colour in his face, no crying out, no groaning. It was hard to believe the man was still alive. His eyes were then gouged, one after the other. Meanwhile the emperor, seeing in the other's suffering the fate that was about to overtake him too, lived through Constantine's anguish in himself, beating his hands together, smiting his face and bellowing in agony.

50.The Nobilissimus, his eyes gouged out, stood up from the ground and leaned for support on one of his most intimate friends. He addressed those who came up to him with great courage — a man who rose superior to the trials that beset him, to whom death was as nothing. With Michael it was different, for when the executioner saw him flinch away and lowering himself to base entreaty he bound him securely. He held him down with considerable force, to stop the violent twitching when he was undergoing his punishment. After his eyes, too, had been blinded, the insolence of the mob, so marked before, died away, and with it their fury against these men.**75 They left them to rest there, while they themselves hurried back to Theodora. Actually, of the two empresses, one was in the palace, the other in the great cathedral of Santa Sophia.

51. The senate was unable to decide between them. Zoe, who was in the palace, they respected because she was the elder: Theodora, who was in the church, because it was through her that the revolt had been brought to an end and to her they owed their preservation. Each, therefore, had a claim on the Empire. However, the problem was settled for them by Zoe. For the first time, she greeted her sister [109] and embraced her with affection. What is more, she shared with her the Empire they had both inherited. The question of the government was thus resolved by agreement between them. Next, Zoe brought her to live with herself, escorted by a procession of great magnificence, and made her joint-ruler of the Empire. As for Theodora, she lost none of her respect for her sister, nor did she encroach on her prerogatives. On the contrary, she allowed Zoe to take precedence, and although both were empresses, Theodora held rank inferior to the older woman.