As for the religious disputes: Anastasius, though inclined to the theory of the single nature, had, as I have explained, found it politic to nominate a Pope who favoured a compromise between this and the Orthodox, or double-nature, view. The Blues were Orthodox for political reasons; the Greens were either for compromise with Monophysitism or for plain Monophysitism. One day such rioting broke out in the Hippodrome over these religious differences that the old Emperor had to stand as a suppliant by the race-post (as Theodora and her family had done some nine years previously), and offer to resign his throne. The Blues pelted him with stones, but the Greens stood by him, since to them, as the stronger faction, he had allotted the best seats in the Hippodrome. In gratitude, he gave the Monophysite cause every possible support. But not long afterwards the Blues massacred a party of arrogant Monophysite monks; and because Anastasius did not venture to avenge their deaths, the power of the Blues became dominant in the City and Senate. But Vitalian, a Green of patrician rank, raised an army of 40,000 Thracian Monophysites and led them against the Blues, laying siege to the City. In fear of his life Anastasius then announced that he would assemble a General Church Council to resolve the whole religious difficulty; at which Vitalian disbanded his army before any fighting had taken place. But Anastasius did not keep his promise.
Such matters concern my story more closely than appears at first sight, because this queer fellow Justinian played a leading part in the negotiations between the Emperor, the Blues, and Vitalian on behalf of the Greens. Justinian represented the Blue faction, and assured Vitalian that matters could be arranged honourably to the satisfaction of both Colours and both Dogmas and of the Emperor himself. He even took the Eucharist at Vitalian's side as an additional proof of the Blue faction's good intentions towards him, and swore an oath of brotherhood on the Bread and Wine. Justinian was offered patrician rank for his services, but did not wish to accept this honour until he had first married our Theodora, with whom he was still infatuated. His aunt, Justin's wife, however, a virtuous old country woman who could talk no Greek, or very little, opposed the marriage — horrified that her nephew should consort with a woman who had once been a prostitute. Justinian was thus in a predicament: once he had accepted patrician rank he could not marry Theodora, and yet to refuse the honour would seem disloyal; and he was afraid of his aunt. He consulted with Theodora, who smiled and said: 'Accept the rank, for I cannot stand in the way of your advancement.' Theodora also went to the aunt, to tell her the same thing: which so pleased the old dame that she withdrew her opposition to Justinian's friendship with Theodora, if only she would leave her quarters at the club-house — as a decently repentant Mary Magdalene should already have done. So Theodora left us for a fine mansion, well-staffed and furnished, that Justinian gave her, and drove about in a carriage drawn by a pair of white mules. Justinian himself used a chariot with silver wheels and frame, and a team of four black horses harnessed abreast.
It was not long after this time that Helisarius came to Constantinople to study at the cadet-school, but my mistress Antonina saw nothing of him. She and the other ladies had given up the club-house, which had proved very profitable. Chrysomallo had married a rich wine-merchant, and Indaro had gone to live with Theodora, as her companion. My mistress thought that she might as well marry too. She found a solid, middle-aged Syrian merchant whom she could rely upon to treat her indulgently, not to live too long, and to leave her comfortably off when he died. She met him by accident: he was on a business visit to Constantinople and had taken a furnished house near the docks, of the sort that the owner lets, wife and all complete, while he lives uproariously by himself at a wine-shop. In this case the rented wife had died suddenly and the merchant was left without cither a bedfellow or a house-keeper. My mistress consented to manage for him temporarily; and pleased him so well that they were legally married within a few days. He is not of great importance to this story, because (to be frank) he was not even the father of the two children of my mistress who survived — her son Photius and her daughter Martlia — and of only one of the two who died. But he did just what was expected of him in life and death, and it seems that my mistress satisfied him as the best of wives, since he described her so in his will.
Their home was at Antioch, where he was Treasurer of the Blues at the local Hippodrome, and president of the silk-merchants' guild. He proved to be a much richer man than we had suspected. Peace to his memory. It was to please him that my mistress was baptized a Christian, along with three other women. That was a memorable ceremony in the hearty Syrian manner, with a young priest and a young deacon officiating. The women were immersed naked; but for decency's sake no man beside the priests was permitted to be present. I was not excluded, being a eunuch. Well, the proceedings at that baptistry included many jokes, drinks, kisses, and a little Christian ceremony. All seven of us ended in the water.
In the second year of our life at Antioch, which is a city of which I was extremely fond (especially when one can escape the heat in summer, as we did, by retiring to a country estate in the Lebanon among flowers and cedars), we heard news of the death of the old Emperor Anastasius. Soon afterwards came the surprising report that his successor was not one of his three worthless nephews, Green factional rubbish: he was Justin, the veteran commander of the Imperial Guards. Justin had been given a great deal of money by Anastasius's Court Chamberlain with which to bribe the Guards to support his own candidate for the throne. Justin gave the Guards this money honestly enough, but he tricked the Chamberlain: he himself put on the purple robes panelled with cloth of gold, and the purple stockings, and the scarlet jewelled slippers, and the white silk tunic, and the crimson scarf, and the pearl diadem with the four great pearls dangling behind. The Guards cheered him enthusiastically. Justin's baptismal name had been Istok and he had no surname, but he had arranged to be adopted into the ancient and noble family of Aniciaus, His old wife, however, said that all this pomp was ridiculous for a woman like herself: she refused to wear her own Imperial finery, or to move into the Sacred Imperial suite, until Justin had given her a new name instead of her old one. So from Lupchin (which signifies 'sweetheart') she became Euphemia, and caused a great deal of merriment in the City by her country ways. It was a sight to watch her distributing Sunday alms to the poor in the Cathedral Church of St Sophia, with her elegant train of women and eunuchs behind her. Lupchin had an excellent sense of the purchasing power of money, but could not accustom herself to the notion that gold coins by the hundred thousand were now hers for the asking. So she would solemnly deal out single pieces of silver to the long line of approved beggars, and if one old woman perhaps, having received her coin, took her place again at the end of the line, Lupchin would not fail to recognize her and would box her cars soundly; as she still used to box Justinian's cars if he spoke out of turn or otherwise displeased her.