of his reign, which belong to the history of the empire rather than that of the city. He successfully escaped the great danger of that attack upon his capital which was meditated by Robert Guiscard in imitation of William the Conqueror's conquest of England. He broke the power, after many ineffectual efforts, of the barbarous Patzinaks, who invaded him from the north, and he carried on with varying success the never-ending war with the Turks. The prodigality and reckless expenditure of the court, the multiplication of offices, and the necessity of amusing the people with expensive shows, obliged him to disband the greater part of his army after every campaign, and to commence each new enterprise with newly levied troops. He debased the coinage; was conspicuous, even in a superstitious age, for his superstition; burned heretics, to the great joy of his subjects in the capital; alternately protected and repressed astrologers; invented new titles to secure the allegiance of his courtiers; and reigned a despotic monarch among a crowd of pensioned relatives, who stood near the throne but enjoyed no power.
To the citizens of the capital, the greatest event of the reign was, of course, the arrival of the Crusaders. It is a thrice-told tale. First came the multitudes of Peter the Hermit and Walter the Penniless, with swarms of women and children. Thousands of them had perished long before the expedition drew near Constantinople. But though only 7,000 reached the city with Peter, the numbers continually grew by the arrival of fresh bands, as helpless, as poor, and as wanting in discipline. They
