"Why do you allude to this circumstance, so painful to us both," he said. "There are some things which must be placed even above the feelings of the heart. On the honor of a knight, Clemence, I look upon you as the noblest of women, and yet, with me the Guelphic dynasty in the North will end." "I know the chancellor's famous discovery of our consanguinity!" replied the Duchess. "Henry, you know that the plea is false. If our divorce will make you happier, I would submit, without a murmur; but the certainty that this divorce will imperil your immortal soul, wrings my heart with anguish. Henry! I implore you, give up this guilty project! Trust to the future.--Perhaps--perhaps, my days are numbered." At this moment a horse's hoofs rang on the pavement of the outer court, and almost immediately Rinaldo stood before the arbor. Clemence rose hastily; although pale and trembling, her tears had ceased, and she gazed upon the chancellor with a look of horror. Slowly leaving with her child the presence of her husband, she cast upon him one lingering glance in which were reflected the feelings of her soul. Robed in the magnificent costume which he wore only on great occasions of ceremony, wearing on his finger the pastoral ring of the Archbishopric of Cologne (conferred upon him by the Emperor), a costly chain of triple gold around his neck, and on his head a splendid mitre, the Count of Dassel, with a smiling face, saluted the Saxon Duke. "I have ridden over to examine the tower which your Highness has built," he said, with a low bow; "what a noble piece of work! I can only compare it to the one constructed by the Emperor for the Siege of Cremona." This was one of Henry's weak points, and the crafty Dassel knew it. "You are in error, my dear Count," he replied; "it is very true that my Imperial cousin constructed a splendid machine for that siege, but his tower could not accommodate, by two hundred men, as many as mine. Besides, it could only be moved slowly and with much danger." Rinaldo did not venture to doubt the superiority of the ducal construction. "Oh, if that is the case, the perfection of your edifice threatens to become dangerous." "Dangerous! and how so?" "Yes," said Dassel; "dangerous to the fame and aspirations of more than one hero who has built up his dreams of glory and renown upon the taking of Milan. Think of the disappointment of the Count Palatine Otho, of the Duke of Austria, of the Landgrave of Thuringen, and a host of other illustrious captains, when they see the Suabian lion float over the ramparts of the city." The Duke laughed boisterously. "The thoughts of your triumph recalls to me naturally the certitude of your good fortune. His Holiness, the Pope, has expressed his readiness to annul the marriage which you have contracted with your relative." At these words the Duke's face darkened as his right hand began to play with his beard, while the left sought angrily his sword-hilt.