his abyss of misery. Justinian is a man; he is a

prince; does he not dread for himself a similar reverse of

fortune? I can write no more: my grief oppresses me. Send me, I

beseech you, my dear Pharas, send me, a lyre, ^30 a sponge, and a

loaf of bread." From the Vandal messenger, Pharas was informed of

the motives of this singular request. It was long since the king

of Africa had tasted bread; a defluxion had fallen on his eyes,

the effect of…

s actual misery was imbittered by the recollection of past greatness, the daily insolence of his protectors, and the just apprehension, that the light and venal Moors might be tempted to betray the rights of hospitality. The knowledge of his situation dictated the humane and friendly epistle of Pharas. "Like yourself," said the chief of the Heruli, "I am an illiterate Barbarian, but I speak the language of plain sense and an…