His massive and noble countenance gradually assumed a
thoughtful expression. The ambassadors moved forward a few steps--
perhaps to make a final entreaty, perhaps to depart in despair; but he
signed with his hand in command to them to be silent and remain where
they stood. The marauder's thirst for present plunder, and the
conqueror's lofty ambition of future glory, now stirred in strong
conflict within him. He walked to the opening of the tent, and
thrusting aside its curtain of skins, looked out upon Rome in silence.
The dazzling majesty of the temples and palaces of the mighty city, as
they towered before him, gleaming in the rays of the unclouded sunlight,
fixed him long in contemplation. Gradually, dreams of a future dominion
amid those unrivalled structures, which now waited but his word to be
pillaged and destroyed, filled his aspiring soul, and saved the city
from his wrath. He turned again toward the shrinking ambassadors--in a
voice and look superior to them as a being of a higher sphere--and spoke
thus:--
'When the Gothic conqueror reigns in Italy, the palaces of her rulers
shall be found standing for the places of his sojourn.
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