The Secret History

by

Procopius of Caesarea

translated by Richard Atwater

(Chicago: P. Covici, 1927 New York Covici Friede 1927)

Reprinted, Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press, 1961, with indication
that copyright had expired on the text of the translation.

13. . DECEPTIVE AFFABILITY AND PIETY OF A TYRANT

Justinian, while otherwise of such character as I have shown, did make himself
easy of access and affable to his visitors; nobody of all those who sought audience
with him was ever denied: even those who confronted him improperly or noisily never
made him angry. On the other hand, he never blushed at the murders he committed.
Thus he never revealed a sign of wrath or irritation at any offender, but with a
gentle countenance and unruffled brow gave the order to destroy myriads of innocent
men, to sack cities, to confiscate any amount of properties.

One would think from this manner that the man had the mind of a lamb. If, however,
anyone tried to propitiate him and in suppliance beg him to forgive his victims,
he would grin like a wild beast, and woe betide those who saw his teeth thus bared!

The priests he permitted fearlessly to outrage their neighbors, and even took
sympathetic pleasure in their robberies, fancying he was thus sharing their divine
piety when he judged such cases, he thought he was doing the holy thing when he
gave the decision to the priest and let him go free with his ill-gotten booty: justice,
in his mind, meant the priests’ getting the better of their opponents. When he himself
thus illegally got possession of estates of people alive or dead, he would straightway
make them over to one of the churches, gilding his violence with the color of piety-and
so that his victims could not possibly get their property back. Furthermore he committed
an inconceivable number of murders for the same cause: for in his zeal to gather
all men into one Christian doctrine, he recklessly killed all who dissented, and
this too he did in the name of piety. For he did not call it homicide, when those
who perished happened to be of a belief that was different from his own.

So quenchless was his thirst for human blood; and with his wife, intent on this
end, he neglected no possible excuse for slaughter. For these two were almost twins
in their desires, though they pretended to differ: they were both scoundrels, however
they affected to oppose each other, and thus destroyed their subjects. The man was
lighter in character than a cloud of dust, and could be led to do anything any man
wished him to do, so long as the matter did not require philanthropy or generosity.
Flattery he swallowed whole, and his courtiers had no difficulty in persuading him
that he was destined to rise as high as the sun and walk upon the clouds.

Once, indeed, Tribonian, who was sitting beside him, said his greatest fear was
that Justinian some day by reason of his piety would be carried off to heaven and
vanish in a chariot of fire. Such praise, if not irony, as this he treasured fondly
in his mind.

Yet if he ever remarked on any man’s virtue, he would soon revile him as a villain;
and whenever he abused any of his subjects, he would next as inconsistently commend
him, with no reason for the change. For what he thought was always the opposite
of what he said and wished to seem to think.

How he was affected by friendship or enmity I have indicated by the evidence
of his actions. For as a foe he was relentless and unswerving, and to his friends
he was inconstant. Thus he ruined recklessly most of those who were loyal to him,
but never became a friend to any whom he hated. Even those who seemed to be his
nearest and dearest associates he betrayed, and after no long time, to please his
wife or anybody else, though he was well aware that it was only because of their
devotion to him that they perished. For he was openly faithless in everything, except
indeed to inhumanity and avarice. From these ideals no man could divert him. Whatever
his wife could not otherwise induce him to do, by suggesting the great profits to
be hoped for in the matter she intended, she led him willingly to undertake. For
if there were an ever infamous, he had no scruple against making a law and then
repudiating it. Nor were his decisions made according to the laws himself had written:
but whichever way was to his greater advantage, and promised the more elaborate
bribe. Stealing, little by little, the property of his subjects, he saw no reason
for feeling any shame; when, indeed, he did not somehow grab it all at once, either
by bringing some unexpected accusation or by presenting a forged will.

There remained, while he ruled the Romans, no sure faith in God, no hope in religion,
no defense in law, no security in business, no trust in a contract. When his officials
were given any affair to handle for him, if they killed many of their victims and
robbed the rest, they were looked upon by the Emperor with high favor, and given
honorable mention for carrying out so perfectly his instructions. But if they showed
any mercy and then returned to him, he frowned and was thenceforth their enemy.

Despising their qualms as old-fashioned, he called them no more to his service.
Consequently many were eager to show him how wicked they were, even when they were
really nothing of the sort. He made frequent promises, guaranteed with a sworn oath
or by a written confirmation; and then purposely forgot them directly, thinking
this summary negligence added to his importance. And Justinian acted thus not only
to his subjects, but to many of the enemy, as I have already said.

He was untiring; and hardly slept at all, generally speaking; he had no appetite
for food or drink, but picking up a morsel with the tips of his fingers, tasted
it and left the table, as if eating were a duty imposed upon him by nature and of
no more interest than a courier takes in delivering a letter. Indeed, he would often
go without food for two days and nights, especially when the time before the festival
called Easter enjoins such fasting. Then, as I have said, he often went without
food for two days, living only on a little water and a few wild herbs, sleeping
perhaps a single hour, and then spending the rest of the time walking up and down.

If, mark you, he had spent these periods in good works, matters might have been
considerably alleviated. Instead, he devoted the full strength of his nature to
the ruin of the Romans, and succeeded in razing the state to its foundation. For
his constant wakefulness, his privations and his labors were undergone for no other
reason than to contrive each day ever more exaggerated calamities for his people.
For he was, as I said, unusually keen at inventing and quick at accomplishing unholy
acts, so that even the good in him transpired to be answerable for the downfall
of his subjects.