"'Thou shalt go on the lion and the adder; the young lion and the dragon shalt thou tread under thy feet.' "'It is not to thee, but to Saint Peter, that I kneel,' muttered the fallen tyrant. "'Both to me and to Saint Peter,' insisted Ranuci, pressing his heel still more firmly on the neck of Frederick; and it was not until the latter appeared to acquiesce that the Pope relaxed his hold, and suffered his Majesty to rise. "A _Te Deum_ closed this remarkable ceremony; and on quitting the cathedral, the Emperor held the sacred stirrup and assisted his tormentor to mount." How the recollection of this narrative incites the fancy, and how the Piazza, but just now so empty, is crowded to {8} overflowing with representatives from East and West and the Isles of the Sea! From the different stories of the Ducal Palace, and extending quite around the square, from every possible projection, float the standards and banners that have been taken from the enemies of the Venetians; while the great scarlet banner, with its embroidered Lion of St. Mark, waves gently above the principal entrance to San Marco, where the bronze horses now stand. Rich stuffs in the brilliant coloring of Eastern looms, and cloths of gold and silver fall from the balconies thronged with ladies pressing eagerly forward to watch all that happens in the square below. On the roofs are hundreds of human beings, and every corner that affords a view of San Marco and the Piazza is fully occupied. Men perch like birds on such slight and insecure footholds that they seem like colored statues made fast to the edifices themselves. Here and there a few proud chargers champ their bits and strive to free themselves from their grooms, who wait impatiently, as we do, for the sound of the trumpets to proclaim the rising of this august conclave. Just here a soft, musical voice deprecatingly suggests: "The Signior has not chosen his lodgings, and one knows not where to take his luggage." THE FEAST OF LA SENSA. Pope Alexander, as indeed he ought, wished to confer all the benefits in his power upon the Venetians, and gave the papal sanction, rather unnecessarily as it would seem, to certain customs which this independent people had for some time followed without authority. They were now duly authorized to seal their letters and despatches with lead rather than with wax; to use tapers and trumpets, {9} and even to display the silken canopy and sword of state when ceremony made them fitting. This silken canopy is disagreeably contracted into an umbrella by some over-careful writers, but there is good reason to believe that long before this time the Doges had indulged in this luxury.