The Emperor Henry was a tyrant who wearied out the patience of God.

God said to Rome, 'I give you the Emperor Henry'; and from these hills that surround us, Hildebrand, Pope Gregory VII., raised his austere and potent voice to say to the Emperor, 'God did not give you Italy that you might destroy her,' and Italy, Germany, Europe, saw her butcher prostrated at the feet of Gregory in penitence.

Italy, Germany, Europe, had then kindled in the heart the first spark of liberty." The narrative of the dinner passed the censor, and was published: the Ambassador of Austria read it, and found, with a modesty and candor truly admirable, that this passage was meant to allude to his Emperor.
He must take his passports, if such home thrusts are to be made.

And so the paper was seized, and the account of the dinner only told from, mouth to mouth, from those who had already read it.

Also the idea of a dinner for the Pope's fete-day is abandoned, lest something too frank should again be said; and they tell me here, with a laugh, "I fancy you have assisted at the first and last popular dinner." Thus we may see that the liberty of Rome does not yet advance with seven-leagued boots; and the new Romulus will need to be prepared for deeds at least as bold as his predecessor, if he is to open a new order of things.
I cannot well wind up my gossip on this subject better than by translating a passage from the programme of the _Contemporaneo_, which represents the hope of Rome at this moment.