But Attila, though struck and admiring, forgot not himself in wonder--that passion of the weak. From the beginning to the end, while Saint Leo spoke, the mighty monarch fixed upon his countenance the same stern, immoveable gaze, under the influence of which every inferior mind gave way, every ordinary heart lost courage. Twice his swarthy brow slightly contracted as the prelate spoke those bold words which Attila's ear was seldom wont to hear; but his face was moved in no other feature: and he made not an effort to stop the orator in the course of his eager and energetic speech. When he had concluded, Attila continued to gaze upon him thoughtfully and intently; but, apparently, neither scornfully nor displeased.
At length he said, "Thou hast spoken like a god; but know that not the gods themselves shall turn back Attila from his course, unless he have the justice he has demanded. Thou art reverenced, oh Leo! as one of mighty powers--as one inspired, perhaps, by the God whom thou servest, with eloquence above that of mortals; and willingly will Attila hear thee discourse on the matters of thy high calling, as to whether there be more gods than one; as to the nature of the soul of man; the powers that govern him throughout life, and the fate that awaits him beyond the grave. On such matters shalt thou be listened to willingly, nay, more, with reverent ears, as becomes those who hear the words of one touched by the spirit of a god. We will attend to thine exhortations in favour of Rome, to thy warnings in regard to those who conquer it, even to thy menaces against the life of Attila himself. But Attila turns not aside for words! He whom the embattled line of enemies cannot impede is not to be overawed even by a holy man as thou art. He fears not the sword; he avoids not the spear. The twanging of the bowstring makes not his eyelids fall; the shout of the enemy is pleasant on his ear. His battle-horse shall bear him onward whithersoever his fate directs; and if the destiny of Attila lie within the gates of Rome, to Rome herself and to her capital will Attila go to seek it. Death comes but once, and chooses his own time. The sentence is written on high; and so help me Mars and my good sword, as I would not reverse it, were it to be fulfilled to-morrow. My grave is already dug by the hand of destiny, wherever that grave is to be. And what matters it to Attila whether he lie beneath the gray olives of Italy, or the green birch-trees by the Danube?"
He paused a moment, gazing thoughtfully upon the prelate; and a slight smile might have been seen upon the lip of Ardaric, to hear his mighty leader adopting, as he went on in the career of victory, so much of his own doctrine of fatalism.
In a moment Attila proceeded. "Thus much I have spoken," he said. "Looking upon thee as a messenger from the gods, and filled with the spirit of the knowledge of the future, willingly on these points will I discourse with thee at large, seeing that in all the lands I have visited I have never met any one like thee. But if thou comest as an envoy from Valentinian--lord of these lands, but unto me a slave, on whose neck I set my foot--thou must speak of other things if thou wouldst turn me from the path which lies before me. Thou must speak of offerings to atone for the past; of tribute to show his subjection for the future; of the complete satisfaction of all my just demands. Thou must show Attila that the glory and honour of himself and of his people are to be maintained and increased by following the course that thou wouldst have us pursue, ere thou canst hope to stay these myriads on their forward way, or turn the sword of Attila in another direction. Do this. Leave my justice and my honour no plea against him, and I will raise up a wall between you and the desolation of my presence. Your fields shall flourish in the sunshine. Your rivers shall flow with the accustomed wine; the land teem with oil and bread; and ye shall rear your children up in peace, safe from the destroying sword, till the name of Attila be no more than the whisper of the wind through the gorges of some distant mountain." A bright and heavenly smile beamed up over the noble features of Saint Leo, and he replied at once, without pause or hesitation, "Monarch, I will turn thee back!"
There was something so dignified, so majestic, so sublime in the air, the tone, and the manner with which the pontiff pronounced those few words, that Attila himself was visibly struck and surprised. "How so?" demanded he: "how so--how wilt thou turn me back? Wilt thou bring down fire from heaven?"
"I will do more!" replied Saint Leo--"I will give thee such justice that even the heart of a conqueror can demand no more! Thou hast said that thou wilt turn back if I will satisfy thine honour and thy justice. I have offers for thee, which, as a minister of God's word, I declare to be as full and complete satisfaction as ambition itself could demand. Wilt thou hear them now, oh king?"
"No," replied Attila, "I will not. Thou art weary with travel, and hast many years upon thy brow. Attila has kept thee too long already without offering thee bread and rest. This night shalt thou repose in tranquillity and peace. The wine shall flow for thee, and the feast shall be prepared--"
Saint Leo waved his hand, "Fasting and prayer," he cried, "fasting and prayer shall be my companions. Prostrate in the dust, lifting my heart unto the throne of God, humbly calling upon the name of my Saviour, beseeching the Spirit of truth to guide me aright! With fasting and with prayer will I entreat the almighty Disposer of all hearts to soften thine, and change its stern nature into mercy. Be it as thou hast said, oh king! I will seek repose. Those who came with me have need of it; and in the mean time my words have fallen upon an ear that will not lose them lightly. When may I hold further commune with thee?"
"Two hours ere noon to-morrow," replied Attila. "Till then, seek refreshment and repose, and Attila will take counsel as to the very smallest offering which he can receive as a propitiation to suspend his sword. In the mean time, I give thee unto the care of these my officers. Thou fearest not to rest within the camp of the Huns?"
"I am in the hand of God!" replied Saint Leo, throwing wide his arms and looking up to heaven--"I am in the hand of God! Why should I fear?"