Tormented me that Hilperik was fled,
And Fredegonde in sanctuary safe,
The church of God’s own mother sheltering her.
“How thick the people pressed to gaze on me
With sullen brows, or angry, wondering!
Till suddenly a voice cried musical—
Lo, what a pearl Spain gave unto the world!
Then, turning at the well-remembered words,
I saw, above the shifting, changing crowd,
The poet Fortunatus wave to me