DAMIANI.
No wonder that men fear you in their hearts,
And yield when you approach them!
ZACHARIAS.
But you questioned
About my recent journey to the hills,
That I might save Perugia from the craft
Of Rachis, the vile Lombard King. I went
And faced him ... all his treachery gave way,
The town was mine again; and more than this,
All his ambition vanished—at my feet
He promised to renounce the world itself,—
Like Carloman, the Consul of the Franks,
Who left his wife, his honours and his home
To dwell on Mount Soracte.
DAMIANI.
Carloman—
His fame spreads every day.
ZACHARIAS.
I felt a warmth
Myself to see the man, and when he came
A welcome rushed out from my soul, such life
Tempered the resolution of his face.
God dwelt in him—yet fitfully it seemed,
A fever in his blood, not constant health,
Unalterable habit, as with those
To whom God is the same now, yesterday,
And always. As I blessed him I became
Disquieted—his long hands were never still.
He needed discipline, such changeless hours
As make the spirit stable. Now he seeks
Another meeting, so this letter says,
To ask me some petition for himself,
And for his friend.
DAMIANI.
He leaves a noble brother,
Religious and undaunted, in his place,
Pepin the Mayor.