“Let us wait,” said the Emperor, “until our messengers return, and we learn what Isaac proposes to do.”
“Do you not fear, your Majesty, that he will violate his word?” asked the Bishop of Mayence.
“What has happened once, or a thousand times, of course may happen now. But it seems to me our messengers will know definitely when they return.”
“We shall know for certain if they bring no message of peace.”
“In that case they would hurry back, I think, for that would clearly be their duty. I suspect the Greeks will prove faithless.”
“It is almost certain,” said the Bishop of Passau. “Greeks cannot keep faith.”
“It is not yet absolutely certain,” replied the Emperor, “and we must do nothing rashly. Still, I confess I am not over hopeful, for, alas, too often has the hatred between the members of the two Churches manifested itself and brought harm to both.”
“Then let us attack at once,” cried the young Duke of Swabia, Frederick’s second son. “Let us fall upon them like a thunderbolt out of the clear sky, before they can make their preparations to help the Turks.”
“Gently, my dear son,” said the Emperor. “You are carried away by excitement. We can do nothing until we have actual proof of their perfidy. Your ungovernable zeal would make an enemy of our ally if he were not one already.”
“He is our enemy,” replied the Duke of Swabia. “My messenger who is at hand will tell you so. Tired of the long delay, I despatched an alert and trusty friend to get some news of your messengers. His speedy return proves that my assertion is correct.”