One does not hear what was done to the authors of the mischief. Perhaps they were sitting on the shore of Galata, laughing over the brilliant success of their exploit. But the effects of that drinking bout were very remarkable and lasting, as will be seen. It is indeed seldom that one can follow the consequences of a crime, a vulgar, thoughtless, and brutal crime, so fully, or with such clearness.
For, first of all, when the richest part of the city had been burned down, and the stores of wealth destroyed, it was impossible for the imperial government to seek for aid among the resources of private citizens. The golden candelabra and the vessels of St. Sophia, the Byzantine mother-church, when melted down, went but a very little way. And then Alexis, this young boon companion of Flemish roysterers, was fain to seek the Latin camp and confess that he could not pay the money.
Dandolo was not displeased. So far as things had gone, it seemed possible that Venice would get no good at all out of this costly and dangerous business. He said that they were in no immediate hurry. They would wait the convenience of their imperial hosts. They would stay where they were for six months longer. In six months, surely, the money could be raised. Mean time the Greeks would have the pleasure of finding provisions for the Latin and Venetian armies, which, for their part, would continue to keep their camps on the more desirable and fertile portions of the campagna, so that neither revenue nor harvests could be looked to from that quarter. Also, their soldiers should continue to pay
