Thus we may note that all these foreigners, Be it the daintiest English dame alive, Or damsel born in fair America, Or Russians of a royal family, Or Frenchmen of the very noblest stock, Or Viennese as elegant and _fesch_[12] As even Viennese can be produced— Wherein they wellnigh rival Baltimore— Are still regarded by the Italian with A doubtful smile, who as he smiles exclaims: “_Sono forestieri_”—which indeed Means “They are foreigners”—and yet the word Comes from _Foresto_—savage—desert—wild— And so do ancient thorns live round the rose. And thus strange things do happen in the world. Now it befell that in the Lombard time When Dieterich-Theodoric was king, And from Ravenna ruled all Italy, The court religion was the Arian, To which men nowadays an Unit add, Yet do not add by the process—that I see— Aught to its value; but the odd result Was that the Gothic warriors nothing knew About the mystery of the Trinity,— Nay, they were even far more ignorant Than was the English curate, who when asked What he did understand by the Holy Ghost, Replied: “I am not sure, but I believe It is a kind of pigeon.” These poor Goths Had never learned so much as this youth knew. And thus strange things do happen in the world. Now it befell that once a Visigoth Stately, while all unconscious of his state, And proud while nothing thinking of his pride, Went stalking onwards through the streets of Rome, Unheeding all the casual passers-by Who turned to look at him—as a grave bull Might walk through many sheep—or as my lord Guy de Plantagenet just now walked by Before my window, where I writing sit, In Florence—true he came _bien à propos_. And thus strange things do happen in this world. Well then, this fierce barbarian from the North, Who as I said was densely ignorant Of Trinitarian theology, Was not much further in the Italian tongue, Seeing that that which he essayed to speak Was of the _pidgin_ kind,—oh, marvel strange! Oh, wondrous miracle!—lo, how the Muse Brings up that word to keep me to my tale! Ah! what strange things do happen in this world! Now as he strode along the Roman street, With thoughts of dinner flitting through his soul, Lifting his eyes he saw upon a sign The picture of a dove with outspread wings Above the door of a _trattoria_, Which means a place where you can treat yourself To what you want—that is, a restaurant. And ’neath the bird he read inscribed in gold: _Spirito Santo_; and he gazed at it, And took an object-lesson, and exclaimed: “So _that_ is the Italian for a dove! I must remember it.” So in he went Repeating ever to himself the words “_Spirito Santo! Santo Spirito!_” Those who o’erheard him deemed him a devout And fervid follower of the Trinity. And thus strange things do happen in the world.