of Constantinople awoke to their danger when they heard that the enemy was within twenty miles of the city, and when they saw the crowd of rustics who pressed in for refuge lamenting the loss of their flocks, the destruction of their homesteads, and the outrages of barbarian hordes who respected nothing—not even monks. In this densely populated city there were about five thousand soldiers in all, and these could not be relied upon. The factions of green and blue were ready enough to murder each other, but they would not go out to face the Bulgarians; and nothing was farther from the thoughts of the enervated Greeks than that they who had so often bought the service of mercenaries should fight for their own safety. Yet it seemed as if now they must either fight or else, like sheep, hold up their throats to be cut.
Justinian ordered the removal of all the gold and silver vessels from the churches in the suburbs of the city, and then sent for Belisarius. Not even the immediate proximity of the danger would induce this most unwarlike of emperors to take the command himself. Some sovereigns, like Louis XIV., love to assume the credit of others' ability; some even venture their own reputation on a campaign; others, like Justinian, openly make use of the best officers and repay them with ingratitude. Belisarius came, and speedily sallied forth with such troops as he could get together. He could reckon on a small body of 300 veterans: the rest had seen no service and had small stomach for the fight. He took with him a body of peasants, whom he set to
