Davis Introduction: Theodoric II reigned over the Visigoths in South Gaul from 453
                to 466 A.D. He was the grandson of Alaric the Conqueror.
            He is a prince well worthy of being known even by those not admitted to his intimate
              acquaintance, to such a degree have Nature and God, the sovereign arbiter of all things,
              accumulated in his person gifts of varied excellence. His character is such that even envy
              itself, that universal accompaniment of all royalty, could not defraud him of his due
              praise. 
            You ask me to describe his daily outdoor life. Accompanied by a very small suite he
              attends before daybreak the services of the Church in his own household; he is careful in
              his devotions, but although his tone is suppressed, you may perceive that this is more a
              matter of habit with him than of religious principle. The business of administration
              occupies the rest of the morning. An armed aide-de-camp stands beside his throne; his band
              of fur-clad bodyguards is admitted to the Palace in order that they may be near to the
              royal presence; while in order that there may not be too much noise, they are kept out of
              the room; and so they talk in murmurs, inside a railing and outside the hangings of the
              hall of audience.
            Envoys from foreign powers are then introduced. The King listens much and says little.
              If their business calls for discussion, he puts it off; if for prompt action, he presses
              it forward. At eight o'clock he rises, and proceeds to examine either his treasure, or his
              stables. When he goes to hunt, he does not deem it suitable to the royal dignity to carry
              his bow upon his own person; when, however, .....anyone points out to him a wild animal or
              bird, he puts out his hand, and receives his bow unstrung from a page: for, just as he
              regards it as an undignified thing to carry the weapon in its case, so does he deem it
              unmanly it should be prepared by another for his use. He selects an arrow.....and lets
              fly, first asking what you wish him to strike. You make your choice and invariably he hits
              the mark; indeed if there is ever any mistake, it is oftener in the sight of him who
              points out the object than in the aim of him who shoots at it. 
            His banquets do not differ from those of a private gentleman. You never see the
              vulgarity of a vast mass of tarnished plate, heaped upon a groaning table by a puffing and
              perspiring slave. The only thing that is weighty is the conversation: for either serious
              subjects are discussed, or none at all. Sometimes purple, and sometimes fine silk are
              employed in adorning the furniture of the dining room. The dinner is recommended by the
              skill of the cookery, not by the costliness of the provisions: ---the plate by its
              brightness, not by its massive weight. The guests are much more frequently called upon to
              complain of thirst, from finding the goblet too seldom pressed, than to shun ebriety by
              refusing it. In brief, one sees there the elegance of Greece and promptness of Italy, the
              splendor of a public along with the personal attention of a private entertainment,
              likewise the regular order of a royal household. After dinner Theodoric either takes no
              siesta at all or a very short one. When he feels like it, he picks up the dice quickly,
              looks at them carefully, shakes them scientifically, throws them at once, jocularly
              addresses them, and awaits the result with patience. When the cast is a good one he says
              nothing: when bad, he laughs; good or bad he is never angry, and takes both
              philosophically....
            About three in the afternoon again come the cares of government, back come the suitors,
              and back those whose duty is to keep them at a distance. On all sides is heard a wrangling
              and intriguing crowd, which, prolonged to the royal dinner hour, then only begins to
              diminish; after that it disperses, every man to seek his own patron. Occasionally, though
              not often, jesters are admitted to the royal banquet, without, however, being permitted to
              vent their malicious raillery upon any persons present. When he has risen from the table,
              the guard of the treasury commences its nightly vigil: armed men take their station at all
              approaches to the palace, whose duty it will be to watch there during the first hours of
              the night.