"Enough of this!" said Frederic. "To what end serves your discourse? It is but a waste of time to prove to me, now, that during the past two years we have plotted, and toiled, and fought in vain."
"In vain! Sire!--but why? Because you neglected the golden opportunity! Milan, the bulwark of Alexander's power, was in your hands; you should have levelled her to the ground!"
"Always ready, my lord, to tell me what should have been done! Why was not this advice offered sooner?"
"It is not yet too late," replied Rinaldo. "The German bands have passed the Alps; let their first exploit be the capture of Milan."
"The overthrow of the present _status_ of Italy, and the installation of Victor at Rome."
"And then the heretic Barbarossa, the persecutor of the Holy Church, will be put under the ban of the Universe!" replied Frederic, with a bitter laugh.
"Heretic? No! But the astonished world will hail in you the worthy rival of the great Emperor. What did Charlemagne, and Otho, and Henry III. do? Did they not give Rome to the Popes? And if you, their successor, should place in Rome a bishop of your own selection, who could dispute your authority? Act, break down all opposition, and the Papacy, henceforward, will be no more the enemy, but the obedient vassal of the Germanic Empire." Whilst Rinaldo spoke, Barbarossa seemed lost in thought; every word of the crafty statesman produced its effect, for it answered the ambitious cravings of his own nature, which had long aimed at the subjection of the spiritual to the temporal power. Could his dreams be realized, the Emperor would reign supreme, and the Church, shorn of all her prerogatives, would remain, as she had existed during the dark ages, the source of all faith, but a mere fief of the Empire.
The difficulties of the undertaking did not escape him, but far from causing discouragement, they pleased him the more, by their bold and hazardous originality. Rinaldo, in silence, with folded arms and down-cast eyes, watched narrowly the effect produced on the Emperor by his discourse.
Suddenly Otho of Wittelsbach advanced hurriedly.
"Bad news! Sire," cried the Count Palatine. "Cinola, your strong fortress on the Adda, is in the hands of the enemy."