During the negotiations the Pope had remained for the most part in Venice, while Frederick had not been allowed to enter the city, but had remained in the neighborhood in order that the envoys might pass more quickly to and fro.  The terms of the treaty were finally assented to by the Emperor at Chioggia, July 21, 1177.  Alexander now prepared to carry out his cherished project of holding a mighty peace congress at Venice; and there, at the news of the approaching reconciliation, nobles and bishops and their retinues came together from all parts of Europe.

Now that the peace was to become an accomplished fact, Venice outdid herself in preparing to honor the Emperor.  The latter, too, was determined to spare no expense that could add to the splendor of the occasion.  He had negotiated for a loan with the rich Venetians, and he now imposed a tax of one thousand marks of silver on his nobles.

Frederick’s coming was announced for Sunday, July 24th, and by that time the city had donned its most festive attire.  Two tall masts had been erected on the present Piazzetta, and from them floated banners bearing the lion of St. Mark’s.  A platform had been constructed at the door of the church, and upon it was placed a raised throne for the Pope.

When the Emperor landed on the Lido he was met by cardinals whom Alexander had sent to absolve him from the ban.  The Doge, the Patriarch of Grado, and a crowd of lesser dignitaries then appeared and furnished a brilliant escort with their gondolas and barks.  Having reached the shore Frederick, in the presence of an immense crowd, approached the papal throne, and, throwing off his purple mantle, prostrated himself before the Pope and kissed the latter’s feet.  Three red slabs of marble mark the spot where he knelt.  It was a moment of world-wide importance; the Empire and the papacy had measured themselves in mortal combat, and the Empire, in form at least, was now surrendering at discretion.  No wonder that later ages have fabled much about this meeting.  The Pope is said, with his foot on the neck of the prostrate King, to have exclaimed aloud, “The lion and the young dragon shalt thou trample under thy feet!”

As a matter of fact Alexander’s letters of this time express anything but insolent triumph, and his relations with the Emperor after the peace had been sworn to assumed the friendliest character.  On the day after his entry into Venice Frederick visited him in the palace of the Patriarch, and we are told that the conversation was not only amicable, but gay, and that the Emperor returned to the Doge’s palace in the best of moods.

A year after the congress at Venice the antipope—­Calixtus III had succeeded Paschal in 1168 without in any way altering the complexion of affairs—­made a humble submission to Alexander at Tusculum.  Therewith the schism ended, and a year later, in 1179, Alexander held a great council in the Lateran, where it was decreed that a two-thirds majority in the college of cardinals was necessary to make valid the choice of a pope.  There was no mention of the clergy and people of Rome, none of the right of confirmation on the part of the Emperor.