DAMIANI.
Your hand is bleeding.
I see!—Although I took away your silex
You yet have braved my will.
MARCOMIR.
I need the rod.
DAMIANI.
You need obedience. Flog yourself again,
You will be locked in prison like your friend.
MARCOMIR.
[in a low voice]
He has no guilt.
DAMIANI.
No guilt! You have not heard
I caught him flushed with triumph at the news
That Astolph in defiance of the Pope
Is laying siege to Rome. Good Rachis wept
As well he might, but Carloman blasphemed
Would I were with your brother! and for this
I had him shut in darkness fourteen days.
The term is over, and to change your sullen,
Ascetic mood—it is a festival—
You shall restore your friend to liberty.
You err through over-discipline, a fault,
But one that brings us honour; stubbornness
Like his disgraces the whole brotherhood.
Admonish him! If he is quite subdued
He shall be suffered to resume his rank
Among his fellows: for yourself, remember
Humility is satisfied with penance
The Church inflicts. No private luxury!
Do not offend again.